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MY β €MIND β € 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐒 β € AT β € π™Žπ™π˜Όπ™‚π™‰π˜Όπ™π™„π™Šπ™‰ β €β€”β €β €β € GIVE ME⠀𝑷𝑹𝑢𝑩𝑳𝑬𝑴𝑺 ! GIVE ME β €*π—ͺ𝗒π—₯π—ž !

221B Baker St., London W.
Joined June 2020
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❝ Any ideas? ❞ ❝ β€” * 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍, 𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒓. ❞ 𝐒. fem!sherlock holmes - bbc 𝐒𝐒. literate & descriptive 𝐒𝐒𝐒. 6+ years experience 𝐒𝐯. mv & selective ship 𝐯. canon & 18+ 𝐯𝐒. penned by #𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴
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That’s just not how it works.
If she got pregnant again, they’d /have/ to have a boy this time…right?
β€œLunchtime…” The responses comes out as nothing short of a whine – yet another hurdle in her day. β€œI’m not hungry, you go on without me.”
β€œπ‘΅π’π’˜ we’re talking.” The pride on John’s face is difficult to contain, and, therefore, conceal. He smiles at her, offering her a slow, long nod. β€œAnd... do you know what time it is?” John clears his throat. Lunch time. It is lunch time.
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❝ Any ideas? ❞ ❝ β€” * 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍, 𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒓. ❞ 𝐒. fem!sherlock holmes - bbc 𝐒𝐒. literate & descriptive 𝐒𝐒𝐒. 6+ years experience 𝐒𝐯. mv & selective ship 𝐯. canon & 18+ 𝐯𝐒. penned by #𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴
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Sherlock’s own harsh, knotted brows seem to falter, β€œRight. Tone… Tact...” The slight shift on her heels might indicate unease or regret to the trained eye, β€œAll things I’m working on.” A pause. She’s forgetting something… π‘‚β„Ž! β€œSorry.”
How many timesβ€” it’s the way you say things, not what you say, Sherlock. [ Though his words are severe, his expression is softening now. John can’t stay mad at her for too long. ]
Hasn’t she been patient enough? Would he rather her lie, and pretend, standing there nodding her head, not retaining a single word he said? OR explain that her head is elsewhere and she’s not in the right mindset to hear him out at the moment? Up to him.
Her words earn a glare from John β€” the kind that can only be classified under the β€˜ bit not good ’ section.
β€œAre you quite finished? I’ve a ton of work to do.” This is her attempt at being polite. In her defence, they’ve been droning on for well over 5 minutes with no end in sight.
A nearly imperceptible smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, pleased with the doctor’s response.
If Anderson possesses any braincells at all… they certainly haven’t been firing since the early 70s.
I’ll be home in an hour! And I’M the dramatic one?... Good GOD.
𝑨nother year, another birthday : another chocolate cake eaten alone by the dimmed light of her laptop.
Text to; Molly Hooper (@MorgueMouse79) I have something to return to you. Before you say anything, just know what’s done, is done. SH
// Felt called over here. Would anyone like a banter starter?
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Too easy.
Someone has fallen asleep at his desk. It's him.
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If anyone needs me, I will be in the lab, but someone had better be dead or dying.
I can almost tolerate the blubbering when the clients come with their dogs.
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