Getting on track.

Ask me anything Independent Molly Foster blog. Muse is based off of Molly Foster- Graham from the book Red Dragon with some modifications to career. AU-friendly, people-friendly, crack-friendly PB is Glenda Braganza. Icons come from Hollow Art.

[mollyannfoster]

screeches

i got the things

[ohterribilita]

ooc (x-post ohterribilita, princessmonstertrxck)

They made me full time at work! (yay)

But that also means I’m currently working full time and taking two college courses! (boo)

So this is probably going to effect my rping, unfortunately. At least until the first week of august. :/ I’ll try to keep up with posts, but I probably won’t be as chatty as normal.

[alwayswillgraham]

It was like being a patient, which was preferable to being an inmate. Her demeanor was professional without being cold, and he appreciated it.

"Proper medical care agrees with me. I feel better than i have in months," he replied conversationally.

[mollyannfoster]

Molly smiled briefly, then took him by the wrist, extending his arm past the bars with their white lacquer that was peeling in places. There were flakes of it on the floor by her feet. The cage was anachronism, as was the institution, but there was good money in this, and the dentist had already said that Willy would need braces in a few years. Not to mention the car insurance, the house payment, there were so many things-

"That's good. I understand you were pretty sick." She was far away, she blinked twice and looked down, tying a thin strip of plastic around Will's upper arm. She extended two fingers and tapped at his inner elbow, then swabbed it with a sterile pad.

[feederofswines]

[ open ]

[feederofswines]

"Doktor." Sergei managed to speak, his voice raspy enough to scratch against his throat. He couldn’t allow himself to die. Not just yet. There were businesses he needed to finish first. People he needed to contact in case he were to perish. But there were secrets that would have to be uncovered. And Sergei didn’t trust any of Mason’s staff with his secrets. A large tattooed hand tried to reach out for Molly Foster, fingers managing to wrap around some part of her forearm, tugging at it gently but urgently. His stomach burned. His blood felt like corrosive acid.

"If something happens I need favor," His accent weighed down his words. Sergei whispered, hoping the rest of the medical crew would be busy enough ensuring his safety to hear his plead. "I need you to go to my home. In my room, there is notebook in closet. Under floor." He hisses loudly, the sensation of fabric brushing against his open wound causing chills down his bones. "Burn it." Sergei had his brow furrowed, his heavily-lidded eyes making an effort to remain open. "Tell Jack Crawford what you do." His grip on the woman’s arm tightened. "You do this? You promise?"

[mollyannfoster]

Molly felt the tug on her arm and was startled by it, her eyes jolting away from her work to the dying man's face. She wouldn't ignore him, of course. and her eyes stayed fixed on his face as he spoke. It didn't make much sense, though he had lost a lot of blood. Molly didn't know the name Jack Crawford, but she did know that it would be unlucky to deny the last request of a dead man.

"Of course." She murmured back. "Of course. I will, I promise." The head surgeon was eyeing her oddly. She just shrugged. Were they supposed to treat the man like an animal? She squeezed a blood pressure cuff around Sergei's upper arm. "You need to relax. You're going to go into shock soon." Actually, it was a miracle that he hadn't, yet.

[mooringsbuiltonsand-blog]

"See, it’s just cute when you wear mine.” The curve of her hips disappearing down into the waistband of his boxers, the soft curve of her stomach, the shapes of her breasts unburdened by a bra. Will gives her an appreciative once-over and smiles lopsidedly.

"I can tell this kind of bra’s for taking off, though. It’s trying to take off from me." He reaches ineffectively behind himself, trying to find the clasp and undo it, and. Not succeeding. "Here wait. If you’re me, and I’m you, we have to act it, too." 

[mollyannfoster]

Molly watches him struggle with the bra for a few more seconds, then she steps back over to him. Her rib cage might be smaller than his, but her hips and thighs certainly aren't, and the fabric of his boxers rides up her legs as she steps around him. She inspects the clasp of the bra for a second, then reaches forward and slips it off of him, instead reaching for her discarded cotton bra from the bed. She loops it around him and the fabric gives enough for her to actually close it in the back.

"See?" She says, sticking a finger in between the band and his skin. "Stretchy." She grins, licking her lips and taking a step back, then she slips her hands into the waistband of his boxers in a weak approximation of the way she's seen him saunter around the house.

"Oh, Molly-" She says, tossing her thick black hair over her shoulder. "You have such a perky butt and such wonderful taste in underwear. How did I ever land a dime like you?"

[mollyannfoster]

ooc

I figured out my OTP

it is will graham's butt x existence

you're welcoem

[mollyannfoster]

ooc

none for you, mason verger

[mollyannfoster]

ooc

but seriously i want everyone to bang everyone

[mollyannfoster]

teachustobestill said: THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE PUBLIC: are you team hannibal or team molly?

When it comes to Will Graham, do you mean?

..

Porque no los dos?

[mollyannfoster]

//WHICH SIDE DO YOU CHOSE HANNOLLY MUN WHICH SIDE DO YOU CHOOOSE?

WHAT

[bansheegrahamtao-blog]

don’t be ridiculous

[sickassjigsaw-archive]

✉ (do they ever not text drunk, is the question)

Send me a ‘✉’ for a drunk text from my character.

[text] hey hye molly heyyy eyy

[text] i’m durnk agian

[text] are u drunk

[sickassjigsaw-archive]

[text] uhhh thnik it was some kidn of wisky

[text] whatevre it was its goen now hehe

[mollyannfoster]

[text] Don't you have work tomorrow?

[notjoshgraham]

"Well, I didn’t have anyone sitting next to me on the bus in high school mom. Plus there was baseball… I mean… I know dad had baseball too, but… maybe he was better at handling all of it than I was. I mean… I walked away… I panicked… Dad… he didn’t panic like that did he?" Willy knew all sorts of stories about his father, and in each of them the man was a shining memory and a beacon of something true and honorable… something impossible to live up to. Certainly not for a kid who had nightmares most nights and who could read judgement in other people’s eyes. Or the kid who grew into a man who dropped out of his sport and a near sure thing career due to panic attacks.

"Yeah… something I’m not sure age fixes mom"

[mollyannfoster]

It would be dishonest for Molly to say that she had handled Willy leaving his college's baseball team to enroll in a police academy well. She had been heartbroken, in fact, and more than a little angry. Not at Willy, though.

You can't have my son! Haven't you taken enough?! She had shrieked, remembering heavy footsteps in the summer house hallway, the sound of glass breaking, Will yelling, gunshots and the sight of a streak of blood on the wall, shooting that deranged man twice in the head-

She was far away. She forced her eyes to focus on Willy again, and she smiled.

"No, your father never had panic attacks, not that i know of. But, Willy.." She shook her head. "You have a career now. You're good at your job. Your social life just sucks. Mine did, too, when you were young and your father was gone. But I met Will, didn't I? And Will was.." Her voice trailed off as she took a moment to think.

"Good." She said finally. "Will was good." Is good, she reminded herself. Sometimes she wondered if he was still sitting in the chair he'd been in when she told him she was leaving.

[sickassjigsaw-archive]

✉ (do they ever not text drunk, is the question)

Send me a ‘✉’ for a drunk text from my character.

[text] hey hye molly heyyy eyy

[text] i’m durnk agian

[text] are u drunk

[sickassjigsaw-archive]

[text] that suuuuuuuu

[text] uuuuuuuuu

[text] uuuuuuuuuuuucks

[text] u shoud come ver and we cna drnk togthre

[mollyannfoster]

[text] Whatcha drinking, hotshot?

[sickassjigsaw-archive]

✉ (do they ever not text drunk, is the question)

Send me a ‘✉’ for a drunk text from my character.

[text] hey hye molly heyyy eyy

[text] i’m durnk agian

[text] are u drunk

[mollyannfoster]

[text] zellerrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[text] rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[text] rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[text] Just kidding I'm at Johns Hopkins.

[notjoshgraham]

grabby hands

I promise I haven’t done anything reckless since I talked to you yesterday!

((deep down he’ll always be a mama’s boy))

[notjoshgraham]

Willy laughed sneaking a piece of chicken from Molly as she cut. “Oh I know… but it’s not my fault. I’m a very good boy with so much to offer” He teased “I’m not sure whose fault it’s supposed to be though… and it’s not like I’m not planning on getting married. It’s just… I’m not that old… and you tell find me the girl willing to put up with… me…” He shrugged “someday… maybe…”

[mollyannfoster]

"Well, I met your father in high school, so what do I know?" She's gotten better about talking about him, the further away from the tragedy she's managed to get. Still doesn't say his name, though.

"You're young. You have time. Don't worry about it."

[meme-archive]

Send me a ❖ and my muse will kiss yours