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For everyone who still says that Molly is John’s mirror, remember that Sherlock made it clear that …

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Irene Adler even respects Molly because while Irene was capable of sort of seducing Sherlock, Molly is the only person he could ever romantically love.

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Sherlock: What makes you think I’m flirting with you?

Molly: Why are you naked on my bed!?

Sherlock:

Sherlock: Don’t change the subject

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Once a woman (not the woman) blatantly came on to Sherlock and he and Molly handled it very well.

Sherlock: “While I’m flattered I am quite contentedly, as you would say, ‘in a relationship.’”

Woman: “Aw, well she doesn’t have to know, does she?”

Molly, popping around the corner: “Actually, I do. Hi, I’m Molly, Sherlock Holmes’s fiancée.”

She shakes the woman’s hand.

M: “I’m also a pathologist.”

S: “Which means she can make it look like an accident.”

W: “Excuse me, is that a threat?”

S & M: “Yes.”

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[x] [x] [x] [x]

All credits for the quotes go to @iamjohnlockd on twitter.

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#54 for the drabble challenge!!!

WHO’S READY FOR THIS PROMPT TO GETMORE COMPLICATED THAN IT NEEDS TO BE?

54. Why’s there a pregnancy test in the trash rubbish?

We’ve been invited to a party. SH

Yeah, Molly’s. Tonight. JW

Did you get her a gift? I wrote it on the fridge. JW

Yes. SH

Probably. SH

Not sure. SH

I’ll know tonight. SH

John rolled his eyes, tucking his phone into his pocket;he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with his cryptic best friend. Hedoted on Rosie, smiling and blowing raspberries into her skin as he changed herinto her gorgeous lilac party dress, the infant expressing her delight throughadorable squeals. An hour later, they arrived outside Molly Hooper’s flat; shegreeted them with a large smile and warm hug, a glass of wine in one hand.

“Happy Birthday, Molly,” John said, balancing Rosie on hiship as he retrieved her present from the changing bag slung over his shoulder, “sorryabout the wrapping. Someone wanted to lend a hand.”

“Aww, thank you,” Molly giggled, pressing a soft kiss tothe top of Rosie’s head, “help yourself to drinks. Food’s in the kitchen. I’vecordoned off my room if Rosie wants a little sleep.”

“Thanks. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” He onceagain bounced Rosie, wrinkling his nose pointedly, “nappy emergency.”

“Be my guest.”

He hurried inside, weaving past the drunk party-goersscrambling to coo over the ‘cutest baby ever’ and ducked inside the smallbathroom, breathing a sigh of relief for the moment of peace; honestly, he’donly just arrived. One foldable changing mat and clean nappy later, Rosie wasgood as new.

“There you go, baby girl,” John whispered affectionatelyas he fastened the nappy securely around his daughter, dropping a kiss to hercheek, “ready to slay them all.”

He opened the pedal bin when something caught his eye. Apregnancy test sat atop the waste, it’s positive double lines staring up athim; he knew he should just dump his bag and pretend he hadn’t seen anything.He glanced at Rosie, who was sucking her fingers as she watched him.

“Well,” John finally found his voice, closing the bin. Heapproached the sink and quickly washed his hands, “that’s one hell of abirthday present.”

Twenty minutes later, after successfully settling Rosie inMolly’s bedroom, John finally emerged wearing an expression of stunned horror.He barely noticed he’d wandered over to Sherlock, who was leaning against thewall in the corner of the room. His eyes were fixed on the goofy dance thebirthday girl was engaging in with Greg Lestrade, the two laughing wildly.

“Is this the kind of thing we should be filming?” Sherlockinquired, gesturing his own glass of wine at the foolish couple. He raised aneyebrow, clearly intrigued by the grinding pair’s actions, “it’s only fair. Irecall a certain stag night-”

His glass of wine was removed from his hand and swallowedby the shorter man standing next to him. The shorter man who seemed to behaving some sort of existential crisis; he shook his head, lowering his voice…eventhough the closest person to them was Molly’s elderly great aunt.

“I have to tell you something.”

Sherlock looked far too amused for John’s liking. “That thebirthday girl is pregnant?”

“You know?” John shouted, loud enough to be heard over themusic and earn the momentary attention of Aunt Hillary. He ran a hand over hisface, lowering his voice once more, “how is it you know everything?”

“It’s obvious.”

“Not to me,” he hissed, staring into his empty wine glassas if hoping it would magically refill itself. Shaking his head, he looked upat his friend, “so, what are you, godfather or something?”

“Not exactly…” the detective smirked briefly beforeadding, “she’s not keeping it.”

“What?” John looked over to Molly, then; she was fanningherself and giggling as Greg took a bow and playfully kissed her hand before leavingto fetch drinks, “well, what about…him?”

Sherlock frowned, “who?”

“Greg,” John gestured, growing steadily more annoyed with hisfriend, “it’s his baby too.”

Sherlock looked from the army doctor over to Molly andGreg, a look of utter confusion on his face. After a long pause, a wide grinspread across his face, “that’s…true.”

“Do you think I should say something?”

“Yes, YES!” Sherlock seized his shoulders and beganfrogmarching him towards the kitchen where Molly was currently alone, “talk toher, give her advice or whatever it is you do. Convince her to keep it. You’rea doctor, aren’t you?”

John was too confused to even protest at being shoved insuch a manner, “okay, but why-”

Sherlock gave a final push and John stumbled into thekitchen, finding himself alone with Molly; she was refilling her wine glasswith…apple juice. So, not drunk. He felt slightly better with that knowledgealthough he still had many questions. How far along was she? Did Greg know? Howlong had they been dating? Why did Molly want to terminate her pregnancy? Whywas Sherlock so keen for her to keep it? Was he-

“Oh, hi, John. I didn’t-”

“Why is there a pregnancy test in the rubbish?” Johnblurted out abruptly, causing the pathologist to choke on her sip of applejuice; she gawped at him unblinking, opening and closing her mouth rapidly. Heruffled his hair awkwardly, “I was changing Rosie- I didn’t mean to-”

“It was just a one-off mistake…just five minutes of fun inthe back of an ambulance with a dear friend,” John was unable to refrain fromraising an eyebrow; he didn’t know Greg had it in him. Molly was wringing herhands, watching as John poured himself rather a large glass of wine, “I don’twant to bring a child into the world because of that. It’s not fair. To either ofthem.”

“I understand,” John finally said after swallowing thelast remaining drop of his wine. He approached his friend and gently held hershoulder, smiling, “if there’s anything you need, I’ll always be here for you.”

Molly smiled in return, hugging the army doctor tightly, “thankyou, John. I really appreciate your support.”

“Don’tmention it,” he replied, wondering how he was supposed to reunite Greg andMolly before the birth of their baby.

Soon enough, the party crowd had dispersed until it wasjust John left with Molly, Greg and Sherlock, three people he was determinednot to leave alone under any circumstances; the consulting detective was busytexting whilst Greg bustled around helping Molly fill various rubbish bags,cracking stupid jokes every now and again. John took this as his cue to gatherRosie’s carrier and make his first attempt to leave the expecting parentsalone.

“Right, Sherlock. We’d better go. I’ve got to get Rosieinto bed,” he smiled over at Greg and Molly, praying Sherlock would take thehint. Of course, the super git just shrugged.

“Surely you don’t need me for that.”

John gritted his teeth. “She likes it when you read her astory.”

“So, I’ll read her a story another time.”

“Sherlock!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, I’ll read her a bloody story,” Gregexclaimed, taking the carrier from John’s hands and peering inside to makefaces at the cute youngster. He turned to Molly, winking politely, “thanks fora great time, Molly. See you later.”

John began to protest as Greg left the flat with hisdaughter, although, before he could say anything else, Sherlock was

“He’s not the father. Goodbye.”

Sherlock closed the door in John’s face, unable to keepthe smirk off his face at the look on John’s. He turned back to Molly, watchingher hurry around the flat tidying up as she tried to avoid him. Finally, shecould stand the silence no longer and discarded the rubbish bag, running a handthrough her hair.

“Do you have them?” Sherlock reached into his coat pocket,removing the abortion leaflets she’d asked him to collect. He flipped throughthem with a sigh.

“Everything you need to know. The procedure, aftercare…”he trailed off, holding out the papers. Molly swallowed, reaching out; theirfingers brushed briefly and she caught his eye. He smiled although there was nohumour, “I do wish you’d reconsider.”

Tearfully, Molly asked, “why?”

“Why?” He stepped closer, extending his arms as if to holdher but thinking better of it. Instead, he took her hands, pressing her knucklesto his lips, “you’re my family. Ambulance or no ambulance, baby or no baby. You’llalways be my family,” her tears were falling freely now and she pulled himclose, burying her face into his coat for the first time in weeks. He strokedher hair, continuing, “whatever you decide, I’ll always love you and be herefor you. If it is still your wish to go through with-”

“No, no…” Molly shook her head, extracting herself andholding his face in her hands; she sniffed, giving a watery grin, “this is allI’ve ever wanted. You. You’re my family, too. I love you.”

He lifted her into his arms, her legs circling his waist. Sherlockraised an eyebrow, “so, we’re doing this?”

“We’re doing this,” Molly giggled, snogging the breath outof him and professing her undying love between each desperate kiss. Oh yes,best birthday ever.

Two days later, Sherlock returned to Baker Street –slightly dishevelled and giddily happy but otherwise unchanged – to find Johnsitting at the kitchen table surrounded by address books and phone numbers. He wascurrently on the phone, chatting away to Molly’s ex-fiancé.

“…no, Tom. Nothing’s the matter. I just wanted to asksomething…”

“That’s not necessary,” Sherlock commented, hanging hiscoat on the hook outside their flat. John waved a silencing hand in hisdirection.

“Yeah, John from the wedding, that’s right,” the formerarmy doctor replied with a tone that suggested he was slowly losing the will tolive, “I’m calling about Molly Hooper. When did you last have contact with her?”

There was an irritating tap on his shoulder. “John-”

“Noooo, I mean did you get her pregnant-”

This time it was less a tap and more of a shove. “John!”

“What?” John whirled around, the phone still pressed tohis ear.

“I’m the father of Molly’s baby,” Sherlock said, the satisfactionof at last saying the words was almost as fulfilling as the look ofbewilderment on John’s face. He patted his shoulder, “we’re in love, we’regoing to be parents and we couldn’t be happier,” he gestured at the phone, “butdon’t let me disturb you. Carry on.”

The whining drone in John’s ear faded to background noiseas he imagined new and creative ways to murder his very best friend.

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2017: the year of women replacing men in major roles, female super heroes breaking records, and the black panther trailer

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Carl the Animator: “It’s kinda cheesy, but I still like the whole ‘Shaggy and Scooby ice cream with a pickle on top’ thing.”

Ted the Animator: “…wait, that’s not a pepper?”

Carl the Animator: “Nah, it’s a pickle in the script, so I drew a pickle.”

Ted the Animator: “That… no. Pickles are rounded on the ends.”

Carl the Animator: “Lies. Look, it’s got the curve, just like a pickle!”

Ted the Animator: “Have you never seen a pickle before, Carl?”

Carl the Animator: “Yeah, I get them in chopped in burritos and stuff all the time.”

Ted the Animator: “…those are peppers, Carl.”

Carl the Animator: “You’re pulling my leg.”

Ted the Animator: “Google it.”

Carl the Animator: “…”

Ted the Animator: “See?”

Carl the Animator: “Ok, yeah, those… those might have been peppers.”

Ted the Animator: “Did you ever go to a self-defense shop, and ask to buy some Cucumber Spray?”

Carl the Animator: “Oh, shaddup. Let me be unknowledgeable of deli items in peace.”

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Mary: Describe Molly Hooper in one word.

Sherlock: Mine.

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Mrs. Hudson: Knock knock

John: Who's there?

Mrs. Hudson: Nacho

John: Nacho who?

Mrs. Hudson: Nacho housekeeper

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Molly Hooper getting married + outtake

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Sherlock, yelling across the room : Holmes!

Molly : Hooper!

Sherlock : HOLMES.

Molly : HOOPER.

Sherlock : HOLMES!!!

Molly : HOOPER!!!

John : Wait, why are they both shouting their own last names?

Mary, not looking up from her book : They’re fighting over which one to use when they get married.

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Ever So Subtle

prompted by @mychakk: #53, “I’m flirting with you.” Post-TST but Mary’s still alive.

“Ah, Molly, what a lovely surprise,” Sherlock grinned.

“Surprise? You asked me to bring you more thumbs,” Molly laughed.

“Yes, well, Rosamund and I did not expect you so early,” he explained.

“You’re watching Rosie?” she asked. He nodded in confirmation. “By yourself?”

“Yes, of course,” Sherlock defended. “Why does everyone find me incapable of caring for my goddaughter?”

“Never said you were incapable,” Molly shouted from the kitchen. Rosie was gurgling as she played with the activity gym set between the two chairs. She walked back to the sitting room and set herself down on the floor next to their goddaughter. “You’re a happy baby today, aren’t you?” Sherlock couldn’t help but smile at the scene before him.

“So, Molly,” he began. “You look…becoming. And your intellect is most admirable.”

“Um, thanks,” she inwardly cursed herself for blushing. He watched a few moments longer as Molly played with Rosie. She was always glowing in the presence of the little Watson.

“You know,” Sherlock spoke up, “motherhood would look well on you.” Molly looked up at him, furrowing her brows at the strange remark.

“Where is all this coming from?” she questioned.

“Well, Rosamund, it seems your Aunt Molly sees but does not observe,” he teased. The look on her face displayed her confusion plainly.

“I’m flirting with you,” Sherlock elaborated. Molly’s eyes fluttered in realization and her lips softened into a smile. He joined her on the floor, taking her hand in his. “Domestic bliss would look well on you too.”

“Oh?” Molly replied. “However will I find it?”

“I hope you will find it with me,” he spoke softly. Molly cupped his cheek, tracing her thumb along his cheekbone. She inched forward, her lips tenderly caressing his.

John and Mary arrived moments later to pick up Rosie only to find them snogging.

“Look at you two playing house,” Mary teased. John gaped at the sight of Sherlock and Molly. They separated quickly at the sound of Mary’s voice. Their faces were flushed from being caught.

“But you–Molly–I, what?” was all John stammered.

“You owe me fifty quid,” Mary smirked at her husband.

fanfiction.net | ao3

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Molly: I told you! I'm over Sherlock!

Mary: But your not.

Molly: Yes I am.

Mary: No.

Molly: For God's sake! I'm with Tom.

Mary: Yeah, but he's boring.

Molly: No he's not!

Mary: Yeaah he is.

Molly: No he isn't.

Tom: Do these socks match... never mind this one's slightly darker.

Mary: *smirks*

Sherlock: *walks in soaking wet and covered in feathers and mud* Does anyone want to go for tea? It's been a day.

Mary: Well we know Sherlock isn't boring.

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Make Me Choose (2.5k Celebration) → @mouseymodesty asked:

The Blue shirt of sexiness OR The Purple shirt of sexiness

No way I could choose between these two! The purple shirt, is the purple shirt!! And the blue shirt just came and stole my heart too… And this man can really wear any color and he will look amazing!

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I think it’s funny how y’all don’t even try to hide your ugly ass favoritism anymore. All of y’all rushed to make sure Vernon felt valid as a white-passing POC and praised the hell out of his looks whenever he mentioned getting bullied for being white mama mixed. Y’all marketed Somi on Produce 101 better than the show did and got her the #1 spot. She isn’t white-passing but she has Eurocentric features thanks to her white dad and her looks won her the show.

But nobody fought like that for Lee Michelle when she was on Kpop Star. Her dark skin, thick hair, and Afrocentric features were a turn-off for y’all so not only were judges n contestants rude/awkward with her but she was ignored as an artist up until she switched to performing hip-hop recently. And even now, y’all praise those crusty anti-black rappers over her.

Samuel is a Korean Latino with brown skin, a wide nose, and naturally non-straight hair. Y’all have literally ignored this child from the start of Produce 101. The only posts made in support of him were by other POC (mostly Black and/or Latinx). People on the show said he could never be a visual, making him upset for no reason, and nobody jumped to his defense like y’all did for Vernon and Somi. He mentioned himself that he felt viewers weren’t voting bcuz he isn’t fully Korean, which shows that he sees at least some of the ugly things said about him by colorist, xenophobic, anti-latinx ppl.

All of you white allies love making posts about colorism, appropriation, racism, and all that (while basically just repeating POC) but when you could have put your numbers to use and actually helped someone who is negatively impacted by all those things, y’all were nowhere to be found and some of you actively made jokes about Samuel thinking nobody would care. So fuck all of you.

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Why Sleep

Why sleep when I can read another 50 chapter FanFiction