#mollyandsherlock

[the-one-who-counts]

A small grievance

Is anyone else bothered that Anderson is the one who ships Sherlolly!?????

I only say that because he is literally made fun of all the time by Sherlock for being an idiot and sometimes I feel like it's the writers saying our ship is dumb. I realize this is very odd and not even true probabaly...but does anyone else feel this way????

[timetravellerwhovian]

Day#3 ✨ " You're wrong. You do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you.." So, my another favourite couple is not even a couple and never were. Funny. Molly and Sherlock are in strange type of relationship that I don't completely understand but I love them anyway.😰 Even with all the tragic of the only one-way love and difficult temper of Sherlock. All of these make their ralationship interesting. And they develope which is important! I don't know what will happen next in the new season of Sherlock If there'll be one but I'd love to look at their communication.🌌🌟 P.S. If someone likes that couple, too, I read pretty good fanfic about what happens after the season finale! I liked it so much that I even translated it in my language! So feel free to ask for a link If you'd like to read😌 #sherlolly #sherlockholmes #mollyhooper #relationship #mollyandsherlock #OTP #unrequitedlove #tragic #benedictcumberbatch #louisedrealey #fanart #drawing #pencildrawing #watercolor #otpweek

[ktlinger-blog]

His Next Threat

The pool was dark, silent but for the drips of leaking pipes. Sherlock’s hands sweat in his pockets, and he was unable to find a way of occupying them. “I did as you asked,” his words echoed, shaking with fear and anger. “I planted the bomb, I lied to Lestrade. Now…” his breathing was faster. “Just let her go, please.” A few seconds passed, no response. “Please!” he repeated, exhaling heavily. A muffled snicker sounded from across the pool, and Jim Moriarty stepped out from behind a wall, strolling slowly and casually across the pool floor. “Ah, it’s fun to hear the great Sherlock Holmes beg. Do it again!” Sherlock’s chest was surged with anger, which he could barely contain. “Tell me where!” “Beg!” Moriarty laughed. “/Please./” Sherlock shouted achingly. “Ooh, there we go. So desperate.” Moriarty started pacing down the edge of the pool, staring in, starting closer towards Sherlock. “Sher-lock Holmes…” he started so say in a song-song voice, “in loooove…” he twisted on his foot and widened his eyes at Sherlock. “You know I used to think you were boring but no. Human’s aren’t. They’re hilarious!” he smiled sadly and now looked Sherlock up and down from just a few feet away. “Molly…” “Oh, her. Yeah, she’s fine. I’m taking good care of her. You know, she’s kind of cute. I’m starting to like her…” Sherlock jumped forward and grabbed Jim by the shoulders, piercing his eyes with a pure look of hate. “You don’t touch her.” “Whoah, woah.” He smiled, then stared into space with dead eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it… unless you don’t behave…” he smirked. “Now let me go or I can scream, and my men can do a lot of damage to that pretty little face of hers.” Sherlock shoved him away. “I admit, you fooled me. Two and a half years ago, I thoroughly thought you hated her. But I guess not… and will you look where we are… re-u-ni-ted! And all because of my ex girl-friend. Should’ve kept that one.” He tilted his head. “I had it all wrong. I used Molly Hooper once to get to you, but ooooh-” he stepped forward with each word. “I can get so… much… /deeper./” Sherlock looked down upon Moriarty and clenched his teeth. “How do I know she’s alive? How can you prove it?” “I’m a man of my word, Sherlock,” he said softly, smiling. “I told you she’s alive- she’s alive. I told you I would burn the heart out of you… and see it in flames! It’s /killing/ you.” Molly was the only thing keeping Sherlock from murdering Moriarty right there in front of him. His breaths were heavy with restrained rage. Soon Jim turned and strolled slowly towards the exit from which he came. “Say your prayers for Molly!” He shouted at the ceiling, echoing it across the walls. “You’re my puppet now, Sherlock. I have some strings to tug. By the time I’m done with you…” he stopped before disappearing. “You’ll wish your head really had hit the pavement.”