nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

Molly Jane Hooper! At your service! I work at St. Bartholomew Hospital. Well--In the morgue, anyhow....

Due to personal reasons, I have moved Molly to a new home. A side blog, in fact. If you are interested in following, still, do not hesitate in doing so. Just click the link and we can interact--or not interact--as to your heart's desire.

Pssst, if you guys could actually help people know that I moved, that'd be rather great.

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

Right, okay. So I am moving Molly to a side blog for my own reasons, okay. If you are tagged in this, I find it important to you to know this. 

First, Molly Hooper is a character that honest to god makes me the happiest being in the universe but it is totally smushed by the shit I put up with as a Molly Hooper roleplayer. I think if I manage to move, then maybe a better and more positive influence will be inflicted upon me. Because, on all honesty, this blog does nothing to me except make me depressed.

Second, I am going to make sure I have the same url. So..we have that.

Third, this is going to be good for me. If you want to follow me on my move, than you can. This is blog is going to be deleted when I think I have everything in the right place. THank you for your patience and I hope to see most of you on my other blog. I will add a link in a new post soon.

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Molly's eyes widened and she shook her head slightly. "I mean I suppose this isn't something I was expecting, if that makes any sort of sense." She soon shut herself up by taking a few more bites from her food, narrowing her eyes at the plate before his disposition seemed to slowly change. "Well...I am rather--erm--biased. I don't know if my words would actually mean that much on how you attract people." Granted, his social skills were not that great (and neither were Molly's, but on a different level of awkward) but he was attractive. But she wasn't going to blatantly state that aloud. Not here. Not now. Perhaps if this wine kept working its magic.

Molly drank the last of her wine, already feeling a small buzz in the back of her mind. A smile curved her lips at the comment about Toby. "He isn't the same as a person companion would be..But he is always there when I need him." She shrugged her shoulders as her own glass was refilled. At the mention of her family, she pursed her lips after taking a sip from her glass. "My dad isn't with us anymore. Mom left a long while ago while I was still little." She fed herself another few cut pieces of food. "But I was close to my dad." The pathologist smiled sadly before cocking her head at the detective. "What about you?"

The first date

Sherlock frowned at her choice of words. Crazy? What in the world was she talking about? Right well. He wasn’t about to comment on it. This was going to the first and last date he was going to be on. He knew why he didn’t usually go on dates. Because he was rubbish at them. He hated being rubbish at things.He shook his head, a small smile quirking up at the corner of his lips. “Look at me. How many people do you imagine I attracted,” he said as he cut food. He asked for a refill of his wine and took a bite of his food.

He nodded at the waiter and took a sip of his wine as she spoke about Toby. He chuckled lightly, nodding. “That’s nice. To have a companion I mean,” he said quickly. He felt himself get a bit heady at the wine he’d been drinking and was glad he wasn’t driving home. He took another bite of his food and looked up at her. “Are you close to your parents? I’ve heard you speak about her on a few occasions,” he said, trying to make conversation. Was that weak? Maybe just a bit. Oh well. He tried.

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

Right, I feel the need to apologize for my behaviour last night, so if you feel obligated to, my words are underneath the doobly doo.

'If you're so stress, why not take an hiatus?' Good question. Because due the lack of work on any replies or anything, really, on this blog, I feel like I am on a temporary hiatus all the time anyway.

But it just sucks to get on, all ready to get some stuff done, and then just flop on your face because of failure.

If that makes any sense. I am not going to lie. I am not feeling really coherent today. 

But I am sorry for worrying you all last night. I am so, so sorry.

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Room mate came in and saw me in a precarious placement.

I have now been given some sleep medication that should take affect very soon. I will apologize for my behaviour when I come back to. Whenever that may be.

I am sorry throwing my waves of depression upon you all. I am an asshole. I am sorry. Now, my room mate states I must go.

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

honey we love you don't forget that. sometimes i have similar thoughts to the dark ones that cross your mind, but i try to remember all the nice things people have done for me. remember this message and live on. you're wonderful and deserve an awesome life. a lot of people would miss you people would ask you not to be dead, so please, don't be dead. be more alive than ever before, live for the moments of joy, live and help others who have the same thoughts, live and be awesome *boops you* i care

I am not upset because of my blog. Let us just get that straight, okay. I am contemplating my choices because I AM A FAILURE AS HUMAN BEING. I am not even worth your time. Who is this we, anyway? Where are they? Huh? A lot of people would miss me? I can’t believe that. I can’t.

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

otterwithafunnyhat replied to your post: Read More →

No please don’t please really please don’t. You know I’ll miss you. I adore you and Molly and I’m sorry they unfollowed you but you are amazong.

Fuck it, I can't even run a fucking blog correctly. Ask anyone in this stupid, stupid house how well my performance with anything is. They'll probably tell you how mediocre it is as well. Not smart enough, not creative enough, not good enough.

I want to do something right and I can't seem to do that. Can't do anything right. I hate that. I don't even think anyone would notice if I was gone.

There is no fucking point anymore. No one would miss me, no one would care. So what's the point.

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Why do I even fucking try anymore? It is just like this with everything. I can't win anything.

Perhaps I should off myself. Lord knows no one would actually miss me. I don't even feel worth the fucking time anymore.

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

somehow I cannot hide who I am though I've tried

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The Herd rehearsals, part two. Part one here. (x & x)

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

Sherlock & Molly in ‘The Reichenbach Fall' [1/?]

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

Molly crossed her ankles, working to keep herself in a cheerful disposition. She wanted this to go well. She wanted this to work. "No, no...It's fine. Just a little crazy, you know." Molly picked up her fork carefully, twirling the metal utensil in her hand before working to carefully cut her food into precise, acute squares. If she ate, it had to be with some sort of order. "You are kidding." She looked to him with a sort of shock before taking a bite of her food off of her fork. In her thoughts, she hadn't thought anyone would actually leave him be. She had thought he had done this plenty of times.

A small hand reached out for her own glass and she took a sip, eyes widening at Sherlock as he asked her his question. Quickly, she swallowed, chuckling in embarrassment. "Toby normally doesn't let me go out. You saw how he stalked you when you came in the door." Molly stated pointedly, now crossing her legs entirely. Whether it be because she wished the tension to flee or it left on its own, Molly felt a bit more at ease. She trusted Sherlock, more than she probably should have. 

The first date

Sherlock closed his eyes and internally rolled his eyes when she blushed. Everything he said was wrong. It was definitely a mistake trying to get her out tonight. “Apologies,” he said one more time. He pursed his lips and took another sip of wine. He leaned back when the waiter came to serve them with their food. He waited for her to start eating before her tucked into his food.

He shook his head and took yet another sip of wine. He was going to get inebriated if he was going to keep this up. “No you’re not. It’s fine. I uhm. Understand. No I haven’t actually. This is the very first time for me,” he said with a small smile. “How about you? I doubt you have a shortage of suitors,” he said trying to defuse the tension that had settled over the table.

[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

Her expression was a tight one with her lips pursed and with her face looking downward. Absently, she prodded at her stomach before looking up to Sherlock and nodding. "I don't eat a lot. Not at all." She murmured--almost out of earshot. She squirmed in her seat, thinking back to how he was when they had first gotten to this place, how polite he had been. How...gentlemanly he had been.

It made her blush at her cheeks darkly.

"Thank you. I just...--Sorry. I am being a bit of a downer, aren't I?" She pushed her hair away from her face, gingerly scooping the paper napkin bits into her hand and dumping them into her nearby purse. She did not exactly care if he saw her little art project at this moment. "Have you gone on a date before, Sherlock?"

The first date

Sherlock’s eyes widened, alarmed. He hastily shook his head and held his hands up. “Molly no, that was not what I meant at all. Please forgive me,” he said quickly. His mind was scrambling for an explanation. He hadn’t meant to call her fat. Anyone could see that. And even He wasn’t rude enough to say things like that. He took another sip of his wine before looking up at her.

"I.. I meant that.. You’re still very intelligent despite having normal eating habits. That’s what I meant. I mean it when I saw you’re intelligent. I’m not trying to just pacify you," he said, still alarmed. He looked at her apologetically and helplessly, feeling really bad.

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                                 You have some visitors, Miss Molly!

eternal-guardian

brothersineternity

Molly had been walking home from work. Her messenger bag was slung over her shoulder and weighed down with various paperwork she was going to have to finish at home. Her thoughts were not exactly cohesive and she soon got lost in them, not paying attention to them a single bit. Her shoulder connected with someone's and her bag filled with paperwork fell to the ground, a few scraps flying out as it did so. "I--Oh geez-- I am so, very sorry." The pathologist murmured, slinking down to collect her work before it got trampled on.

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[nolongerlittleredridinghoop-blog]

I did touch his (Benedict Cumberbatch’s) armpit hair once. Not in that way

Louise Brealey (x)

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