#; pathologist

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learningthaticount

                        Well, it's confusing to feel. That's mainly it. They confuse him.                    Each one crushes his logic into the ground, screws up his thou-                    ght patterns, crosses his associations.       And so it's difficult for                    him to admit he's ever had feelings for anyone,     especially her.                    Because she knows him best, truly.   She knows his weakness-                    es better than anyone.        She knows that most of his strengths                    are but a show, and are not strengths at all.                         It doesn't take him guts to ask her to lunch.   It takes a regime                    change and a nonchalant gaze and the smallest of  smiles  and                    the words slip through his lips before he notices them.  And it's,                    “ Will you join me for lunch? ”   and it's only the lack of crisps in                    his hands that could possibly signal her that he's serious.

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{ here have some more angst bc ily } "I can’t do this anymore."

                                        She's crushing his heart under a steel-toed                                   boot.   Actual, unfaked love is so seldom come                                   by, especially for Sherlock,  and the emotion is                                   so pure and so true and so innocent that bare-                                   ly a word is spoken upon the subject of it.        It                                   cannot be mentioned that he loves her any mo-                                   re than the world itself for he does not  love  the                                   world, nor any of its embellishments.     And so                                   this hurts him,   more than it should,    because                                   if she can't do this, he most certainly can't.                                        “ S-sorry.  I won't...   I won't...   I'll refrain from                                   speech. ”

[nxtdead]

leт мe love yoυ || ѕн + мн

notamouse-hooper

էհε ωօɾlძ ἶʂ ղօէ მ րlმƈε ἶղ ωհἶƈհ էօ ჩε მlօղε.                        [ molly hooper:                               pathologist.                               safety net.                               saviour.                          she has caught him                                 every time he has fallen:                                 from sanity;                                 from sobriety;                                 from a roof.                            she is beautiful;                                 like the growing light of the sun                                 in the morning,                                 the winter gleam of dew                                 on a blade of grass,                                 the furred appearance of pink blossoms                                 on a cherry tree.                                 he could write a novel                                 with the analogies he has.                            sherlock holmes,                                 contrary to character,                                 is nervous,                                 terrified,                                 of what he is about to do:                            confess.                            confess.                                 confess to the existence of his heart.                                 confess to the existence of feelings.                                 confess to the existence of love. ]

                       [ he's prepared.                                everything's perfect.                                well... as perfect as the universe gets.                                no coincidences.                                no second chances.                                it's do or die.                                the last moments of this innate calm                                are precious to him,                                but the moments after                                are in flux.                           the lab:                                in retrospect,                                probably the least romantic place possible,                                but any other would be considered...                                suspicious.                            okay, sherlock.                                deep breaths.                                slow your pulse.                                heighten your senses.                                release your emotions. ]

                            “ molly, may i... speak with you? ”

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✂

send me one of these for a letter from my muse( ✂ = unsent letter )

;; Dear Molly,             Thank you.              I don't really know how to say this. You've always been so kind to me and all I have ever offered in return has been ignorance, and rudeness, and cruelty. I have been an unappreciative idiot, and, for not only that, I apologise.             You have saved me so many times. I owe you my life. I don't know what's wrong with me.             No      no, now I do. I was too blind before, but now...  Now I see. I'm a sociopath. I mean, I knew that before but I never fully understood the implications.              I'm a sociopath. I cannot allow myself to become attached, to participate in society. It is a rule, the weight of which I always bore. But now...               Now I see the errors of that plan. Now I see the errors of my ways. Now I see what you really mean to me.             I... I think I... I think I love you, Molly Hooper.             No, I'm sorry. I'm going to ruin this aren't I? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have written this. I shouldn't have ruined this.                                                      Sherlock Holmes.                                                           Consulting dick.

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[text]: Is there something I should know?

send me one of these to see how my muse reacts

[ text ] what do you mean? sh[ text ] do i have to disclose every detail of my life to you? sh

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"Listen, I’m not very good at goodbye’s"

                              “ molly, don't                                           don't leave.                                       ...please. ”

[nxtdead]

                               [ he'd be lying                                        if he were to say                                        'i'm okay'.                                        molly hooper.                                        molly hooper.                                        the person that                                        mattered the most                                        of everyone.                                        what she must think of him now.                                        drugged-up,                                        wasted.                                        it's for a case.                                        it is,                                        but that doesn't mean                                        you can't enjoy it. ]

                                                                       “         ...                                                                                        ...i was undercover. ”