molly's fault

Like I’m sorry but Molly Hooper is almost 40 years old? What 40 year old woman spends her days slicing lemons and pining over gay men for seven years? What 40-year old woman’s ultimate wish is to have said gay man say “I love you” to her even while knowing he doesn’t mean it? GOD DAMMIT take up a hobby! Go for a walk! Have some self-respect!

It makes me so fucking furious because I know that it’s not Molly’s fault that she’s written that way, and it’s not Loo’s fault that she has to play Molly that way. It’s mofftiss’ misogynistic writing to make her a pathetic lovelorn mousy fucking plot device when WE KNOW she’s so much more than that.

But GOD it’s so fucking goddam unrealistic that a beautiful, intelligent, accomplished, GROWN FUCKING WOMAN would EVER act this way for a man. ANY man. Or would hold onto these unrequited feelings (that she FOR SURE KNOWS are unrequited) for this many years. Like…it’s actually ridiculous to even consider for me.

If Molly had “fallen” for Sherlock at 15 and she was 22 now….okay. I believe she could still be hung up on him due to age and lack of life experience. But this isn’t the case with our Molly. There is NO WAY a woman of Molly’s age would act THIS way after THIS long.

It’s like mofftiss took every bit of strength and agency and self-possession Molly had or developed over the years and flushed it down the toilet for the opportunity to use her as a wet rag plot device once again. Why?? Whyyyyy????


Molly was standing in the kitchen, bouncing little Rosie in her arms, talking sweetly to her and trying to focus on just her and not the mess that had unfolded in the last few days. There was no normal. The entire situation felt unreal in every way.

She knew Mary would always be in danger, and that she would always have the shadow of her past following her around. But she never thought that shadow would catch up.

And now, John Watson was a broken man. He had locked himself away in his house, and Molly was the only one allowed in. It was good thing too, that she was there because John was too distraught to care for Rosie.

Molly had tried to talk to him, hoping that maybe she could talk him into letting Sherlock back into his life, but when she would speak he would shake his head and stare at the floor. It disturbed her to see him like this.

The buzz from the phone on the counter snapped her back into reality. It wasn’t uncommon, his phone had been ringing off the hook as people heard what had happened. Molly never alerted him of the texts and calls, she knew he didn’t care.

And she wouldn’t have even given much thought to the text on his phone if she hadn’t glanced over to see it was a picture message.

Still holding Rosie, she leaned closer to the phone to see the message. It didn’t resemble the other’s words of consolation and he certainly hadn’t received a photograph before as someone sending their condolences. And the name of the sender wasn’t even complete. All it said was “E.”

So she unlocked the phone. Sherlock had told her John’s password, just in case she would ever have a need for it. When the text came up she saw that this message wasn’t a condolence at all. In fact, the cheerfulness of the message conveyed that they didn’t even know what had happened.

It was a selfie. A picture of some red-haired woman smiling with her hand up as if she were waving.

“Miss you! 😊”

Trying to grasp what she was seeing and hoping that what she was reading could be out of context- how it could be out of context she had no idea- she scrolled up to see the above messages.

She dropped the phone on the counter and went to put Rosie in her crib.

She then came back, grabbed the phone and burst into the living room, where John sit on the couch in the same place he had been for days.

“You left your phone in the kitchen.”

She held it at her side in a fist.

“I don’t care to see any-”

“I know you don’t.” She was shaking, as was her voice. “You bas-” she stopped herself and let out a breath.


“You got a message,” she sneered as she threw his phone at him, landing on the coffee table and cracking the screen, “someone named ‘E.’”

He sat frozen, staring at the phone, with 'E’s face smiling through the cracked screen.

“Now you listen to me. I do not care that you were cheating on Mary. You must feel awful because now she’s dead.” Her voice gave out as the word “dead” came out of her mouth. She threw her hand up to cover her sob.

“But you… will not take this out on Sherlock. You’re doing this because you feel guilty. This isn’t just grief, it’s guilt, and you’re making yourself angry at Sherlock so that you don’t have to feel like you did something wrong. It was Sherlock, right? Sherlock’s fault.” She still shook.

“He has tried to contact you, and to help, I had to turn him away yesterday when he came 'round, I had to tell him that you wanted anyone but him. You should have seen the look on his face, John, oh, I wanted to die right there. And so did he. And it’s not because it was his fault, Mary threw herself… in front of the bullet. You’re taking this out on Sherlock, John, because you’re guilty, and you need to stop because you’re going to kill him!”

Rosie began to cry in the other room at hearing the yelling.

“Sherlock’s not the one at fault, John. It’s you.”

The room filled with silence. Molly wiped her face with her hand and looked out the window, gathering herself.

She looked down at the floor and cleared her throat, then looked back up at John who faced her with the same expression he wore before, if not slightly worse.

“Anyway, I’m taking Rosie with me to the store. I’ll be back in a bit.”

She turned and left the living room, entering into Rosie’s room to gather the crying child into her arms to cry with her.

Worth fighting for (Sherlock X Reader)

Word count- 2699

Imagine: You and Your boyfriend Sherlock are dragged to a bar hopping party because of Lestrade and all of your friends for a Friday night of drinking. Sherlock feels like it’s a bad idea, but because both of you know the consequences of not showing up, you both go. At one of the many bars that you and the group visit, a sleazy drunk begins to hit on you, which turns into harassment of a physical nature. Sherlock being the gentleman he is, steps in and it ends with a trip to the emergency room at Saint Bart’s for a few bandages and some cleaning up.


“Really Sherlock?” Molly asked as she began to dab a wet cloth to the small gash on Sherlock’s forehead. Sherlock hissed slightly, but did everything he could to sit still as Molly continued to clean him up. “It really wasn’t his fault Molly. It was mine” You answered from your place on the opposite medical bed. You looked down as you still tried to hold up the torn strap of your favorite cocktail dress. “And why do you say that (Y/N) I started the fight, but it was hardly your fault. That man deserved what was coming to him” Sherlock replied giving you a worried look even if his tone sounded poisonous as venom. “So what happened then? Why did you start a Bar fight, that hardly sounds like you Sherl” Molly chided as she gently took off Sherlock’s dress shirt so she could reach his damaged arm. “Well… Sherlock was trying to protect me because a drunk man was hitting on me and making me very uncomfortable. He tried to kiss me and as you can see by my torn dress strap he was trying something else” You answered quietly and returned Sherlock’s worried gaze. “Aww Sherl you were protecting (Y/N)? That’s so sweet of you” Molly gushed as she walked into the other room to grab some more antiseptic.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked towards the room where Molly had disappeared. “It was logical for me to protect someone that is important to me” Sherlock answered flatly and then closed his eyes. “Still it was very sweet of you and very brave of you to do that Sherlock. Thank you” You said softly walking over to where he still sat on the medical bed. “No need to thank me, you know I’m not a hero though. I’m a highly functioning…” Sherlock began to say before you gently placed one of your fingers against his soft lips to silence him. “I know you’re a highly functioning sociopath. I’m just lucky that you’re my sociopath” You whispered softly and earned the smallest smile from him. He opened one grey-blue eye and then slowly the other so that his gaze was locked with yours. “He didn’t hurt you did he?” Sherlock asked scanning your eyes for an answer. “Not really. I got a few bruises from being knocked down, but I’ll be ok. Are you ok?” You asked gently taking his good hand in your grasp. “I’ll be fine, you know I’ve been through so much worse” He said causing you to think back to the time that Mary had shot him and nearly killed him. You shook your head for a moment trying to chase those thoughts out of your mind. That was the past and it didn’t matter now. “We sure get into some real messes sometimes huh?” You asked earning a small chuckle from your brave detective. “That my dear (Y/N/N) is an understatement” Sherlock said gently pulling you close to him.

~Flashback brought to you by Martin the Hedgehog, because nothing is cuter! ~

You stood in front of the long mirror that was in the room that you now shared with your boyfriend of a year and a half. You and Sherlock had been invited out for Friday night bar hopping with Lestrade, Anderson, and a few of the guys on Scotland Yard. Of course both of you would’ve rather stayed home and worked on a case or watch a movie, but because Sherlock owed Lestrade a favor he wasn’t really allowed to refuse this one. That’s why you and Sherlock were now reluctantly getting dressed so that you could meet the group at Charlie’s in about an hour’s time. You decided to wear your favorite (Y/F/C) cocktail dress with the intricate straps that rests perfectly on your shoulders. As you tore a brush through your (Y/H/C) hair you looked at Sherlock through the mirror. The detective knew how to tie his scarf around his neck, but he seemed to struggle with bow ties. You chuckled and pulled your hair up into a pony tail. “Hold on Sherl let me help you with that” You said softly as you walked over to him. You took the silky piece of fabric in your hands and gently began to tie it around his neck. “Thank you” He said quietly and then you realized that something was up with him. He probably felt like you, this probably wasn’t a good idea. “Alright why are you so quiet?” You asked as you walked over to the mirror again so that you could pull on your favorite necklace that Sherlock had given you for your birthday last year. “I’m not very fond of doing this and I know that you aren’t either. I don’t believe this is a good idea and I wish that we didn’t have to go” Sherlock said simply and stood up so that now he stood behind you. “I knew you were going to say that. I don’t want to do this either Sherlock, but you know that Lestrade does have a point. You promised him this since he did cover you for what happened at John’s flat last week” You reminded him earning an eye roll from him. “Of course because it was completely my fault that the experiment I was doing got a little out of control” Sherlock retorted pulling on his suit jacket and then holding open the bedroom door for you. You smirked and walked out of the bedroom and then with his escort you both walked out of your home on a cool Friday night.

You sat at the bar because you were waiting for the drink order for the guys back at the table. This was the fourth bar of the night and you didn’t really like this one. It wasn’t quaint like the first one you had visited, it was loud and the neon lights shined so bright that you weren’t sure how someone didn’t go blind from them. Sherlock had been aloof the whole entire time, but you expected that from him. He absolutely hated places like this on a regular day because he could describe all the things that could go wrong. Instead of having alcohol the detective had stayed with seltzer water, tea, or at this place a glass of root beer. Anderson had complained that Sherlock hadn’t drank anything ‘fun’ so your boyfriend, being the smartass he could be, ordered root beer. You sighed and sat there waiting for the drinks when a tall, broad figure plopped down messily on the stool next to you. “Eh, so uh I wuz wonderin’ wha’s a pretty, delicate dame like you doin’ in a place like this?” The figure slurred. You turned an eye towards him seeing he was burly and a bit dirty looking. His breath reeked of alcohol and he looked like he desperately needed a shave. “Well… I’m here with my boyfriend and few other friends” You stated calmly pointing over the group of laughing members of Scotland Yard. “Oh yea? Whose yer boyfriend eh pretty girl?” He asked standing in front of you know and blocking your path. You gulped slightly and pointed to Sherlock who was resting back against the far edge of the booth and awaiting your return silently. “Ha! That scrawny mate? If ya wanna real man all ya gotta do is ask” He smirked and got uncomfortably closer to you. “I’m fine with the man I have thank you. If you’ll excuse me I have to be getting back to him and my friends” You answered trying to sound calm and collected even if you were actually very frightened now. “Yer not leavin’ till I get a kiss lady” The drunk growl grabbing onto the strap of your cocktail dress and pulling you back towards him. He slammed you against the counter and proceeded to kiss your cheeks. You tried to squirm out of his grasp and in the process tore your dress, you yelped as the creep too advantage of that and tried to kiss your shoulder blade that was now exposed because of the dress. “SHERLOCK!” You yelped feeling the drunk’s lips crash down on yours to shut you up. The bastard’s hands began to trail over your body like you were a toy and he began to rub against you, you could feel his erection against your leg.

You were ready to give up and black out because you felt sick to your stomach now and you just wanted the drunk to go away. Suddenly you felt the man’s weight being pulled away from you and you heard a resounding crack of bone meeting bone. There Sherlock stood with blood dripping from his hand, his eyes an icy blue and filled with a burning rage that you had only seen when Moriarty had threatened to kill you. You stood there silently as you watched the man you loved with all of your heart fight a man that was probably double his size. That was until Lestrade and Anderson came over and broke it up. In the end Sherlock got out with only a few minor injuries such as a sprained arm and gash on his forehead. The opponent had a black eye, broken nose, and few other sustained injuries. He groaned loudly as he was handcuffed by a pretty sober Lestrade and taken away. You felt like everything had happened to rapidly and the tears began to creep at the edges of your eyes. Your boyfriend had just won a fight for you and now he was sitting on the bar stool next to you nursing his forehead wound to the best of his ability. “Are you alright?” His deep voice asked filled with concern. You sniffled and nodded softly, but Sherlock took this as the sign to leave with you.

Sherlock took your hand in his and draped his suit jacket over your shoulders and then with careful precision he led you out into the night. He quickly sent a text to Lestrade apologizing for the event that had taken place and then he sent another quick text to Molly explaining that you and him were ‘dropping by’. He hailed a cab for the two of you and then held the door open for you. You got in and quickly buckled your seat belt. “Where to mate?” The cabbie asked Sherlock as he got in and gently wrapped an arm around you. “Saint Bart’s Hospital” He answered and then held you to his chest protectively. He rested his chin on top of your head and you laid your head against his chest trying to calm down. You sighed softly and glanced up at Sherlock, the anger that had once been present in his eyes had now disappeared and been replaced with concern. He knew you didn’t want to talk about it so he respected that and just held you.

~End of flashback~

You now rested in Sherlock’s lap feeling his strong arms encircle your waist. He might not always be the best boyfriend in the world, he might be the most annoying to others, but after tonight you would never again question his love for you. He basically got beat up for you and that was enough to prove that saying “I love you” isn’t always important. You two sat together in a comfortable silence on the medical bed waiting for Molly to make her report so that she could release you. “Not a word of this to John right?” You asked probably already knowing the answer. “I would agree to that except that Lestrade and Anderson are not known for always keeping secrets from him” Sherlock stated and you knew it was the truth. At least he wouldn’t be giving you two the lecture because for once it wasn’t your faults. “Wanna go and get some tea and biscuits from Speedy’s when we get out of here?” You asked smiling a little again and gently kissing Sherlock’s cheek. “Sounds like a better evening than what we’ve had already” He replied causing you to chuckle and nuzzle him softly. He felt warm and it was the place that you would forever feel safe, you didn’t care what the world said about him because you knew who Sherlock Holmes could truly be.

Suddenly the moment was finite when you both heard footsteps come towards the door to the room. “Ok you two can go home now, I give you both a clean bill of health, just don’t get into anymore bar fights for the night” Molly said giving you a small package that had a few more bandages and antiseptics in it for later. “Thank you again Molly, your services have been very helpful” Sherlock said as you both jumped off the medical bed and headed towards the doors to the morgue where you both had been fixed up. “Don’t worry Molly we won’t we’re gonna go to Speedy’s and then head up to our flat” You replied with a weak smile bidding your friend a goodbye and a goodnight. She waved at the two of you before she continued with her last assignments of the night so that she could also go home to her flat.

You and Sherlock sat in the back booth at your favorite little sandwich shop that was under your flat. It wasn’t the most romantic way to end the night, but after the ordeal that you both went through tonight, it was a very welcoming change. “I’m sorry” Sherlock had said softly looking down at the table as you both had waited for a nice pot of tea and a plate of chips that Matilda was getting for you both. “Sorry for what Sherl?” You asked looking at your boyfriend confused. “I’m sorry that I let that drunk man harass you like that” Sherlock answered with a low growl. You shook your head and gently lifted his chin so that his eyes met yours. “Hey you don’t have to be sorry for that. You weren’t expecting that and neither was I. I guess I should’ve seen it coming though, I hate bars because of that reason. Anyway, Sherlock you got hurt for me and you don’t know how thankful I am that you came to my rescue” You said softly taking his larger hand in your own. “Of course I would. I told you I would defend a woman that I care for deeply. I was raised that way” He answered with a ghost of a smile on his face. You leaned over and placed a small kiss to his lips. “I expected that from a Holmes boy” You said teasingly and gave his hand a squeeze.

After you both drank your tea and finished off your chips you paid Matilda and then headed up to your shared flat. The rest of the night was filled with what you both had wanted to do in the first place, cuddling and talking about random things that you both liked. At one point you ended up falling asleep to the sound of Sherlock singing, his voice was sweet and it lulled you into a peaceful sleep. He smiled and pulled a blanket over the both of you, it wasn’t long and then he was asleep to. He smiled a real smile for the first time of the night as he held your sleeping form close to his own sleeping form. Somethings in life for him were worth fighting for, especially you.

💕2 Years of #sherlollytextchats💕
  • *Molly's flat*
  • Molly: *getting ready for a date*
  • -doorbell rings-
  • Molly: *sighs; goes to the door and opens it*
  • Sherlock: *holding a wriggling baby Watson; grins* Ah, Molly. A little help, if you will.
  • Molly: ...
  • Molly: *confused* I'm...sorry?
  • Sherlock: It seems you are the only one capable of settling young Sharlotte here *hands over his goddaughter and steps into the flat, smug*
  • Molly: *raises her eyebrows* Really?
  • Sherlock: *drops onto the sofa* Oh, yes. I wouldn't make something like that up.
  • Molly: *smiles* No. Wine's in the fridge *leaves for her bedroom*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *hurriedly retrieves the wine and two glasses*
  • -a few minutes later-
  • Molly: *returns; smiling* She was out like a light...quite tired. As if someone had been keeping her awake *raises an eyebrow*
  • Sherlock: *holds out a glass, chuckles* Deductions suit you, Molly.
  • Molly: *takes the glass; sips the wine* Chinese? I'm starving.
  • Sherlock: *frowns* Fine...
  • Molly: *bends over her laptop, typing*
  • Sherlock: *glances at her; gulps his wine* Um, I thought you had a date.
  • Molly: *stares at him over her shoulder, at the wine and glasses*
  • Sherlock: *looks at the glass in his hand; bites his lip* Well that was devious.
  • Molly: One of us had to do something. The excuses were getting pathetic.
  • Sherlock: And the dress?
  • Molly: *finishes typing and closes the laptop; shrugs* It's new.
  • Sherlock: *nods, replaces his glass* So...this is a date.
  • Molly: Yup.
  • Sherlock: *stands up* Fair enough *strolls over and snogs her; smiles* I do have the best ideas.
  • Molly: *stares blankly at him*
the cafeteria food at ebott university (and other unfixable atrocities)

i cannot believe while working on the sadfest that is hellfire (im almost done with chapter 4 i s w e a r) i took a break to write a trashy college au cHRIST

ao3 link

slow burn sans/grillby, eventual alphys/undyne as well

summary:  Grillby doesn’t think he can handle another disgusting meal provided by the EU food courts. Luckily, he has a solution.

Grillby had a problem.

The problem was that the food in every single one of the food courts was absolutely disgusting. The salads were greasy, the meats were gristly, and the soups had the consistency of slime. As a culinary major, it felt like a personal offense every time he choked down what was only a burger in name.

Keep reading

When We’re Together

or A Series of Adventures in Dating

Inspired by the lyrics of When We’re Together by Mark Harris 

I’d like to sail to lands afar… Out on a boat that’s built for two

‘This is all your fault.’

Molly glared at Sherlock incredulously. ‘My fault?! If I recall, I was against this whole idea, but you insisted!’

The detective reached up and readjusted his hold on the keel, his hands scrambling to hold the slippery wood. He glared at Molly over the curve of the capsized rowboat. ‘You wanted a romantic date!’

‘Romantic, not disastrous!’ Molly shouted. She stretched her arm, kicking her legs hard to get a higher grip ‘I would have been ecstatic with a candlelit dinner at Angelo’s without you complaining about the ‘overly sentimental ambience’!’

Their argument was interrupted by the sound of a motor chugging around the bend in the river. They both turned to see a New Scotland Yard police boat heading their way, Lestrade at the helm and a laughing grin on his tanned face.

Sherlock dropped his head against the capsized canoe with a groan.

Beneath a canopy of stars… that would be just like a dream come true

Molly shivered and tucked her chin into the blanket.  ‘If they weren’t frozen, my fingers would be around your neck right now.’

‘Mmmmph,’ Sherlock grumbled in reply from his own cocoon. The wind battered them, turning their cheeks red and making their eyes water.

Molly huddled deeper into her blanket and shot him a dirty look. ‘Why are we here? Can’t we go back inside? Sit by a nice fire, sip some tea… you know, not die of hypothermia?’

‘Just wait.’

She rolled her eyes at his impatient tone, but was pacified when he slipped his arm out and moved her in front of him, leaning down slightly and wrapping her in his blanket. Molly smiled, warmer and content, and leaned back in his embrace.

‘There!’ Sherlock suddenly pointed at the clear night sky. Molly followed his line of sight and gasped in delight. Across the stars, multiple streaks  of light began to rain down, their trains lingering in the sky.

‘Is that…?’

‘The Perseids,’ Sherlock finished for her. ‘A common annual meteor phenomena named from its apparent source in the constellation Perseus. Though what idiot thought that particular formation of stars looks like a man…’

Molly sighed happily and rested her head against his chest as the meteors rained down around them, the cold completely forgotten as his voice rumbled over her.

I’d like a castle on a hill… Where you and I could spend the day

‘Sherlock, get down!’

The detective threw himself to the ground at John’s disembodied command just as a volley of arrows flew through the air where he had just been. He turned onto his back just in time to see the three hooded figures draw their bows back once more.

Scrambling to his feet, he ran down the hall toward an open door a hand reaching out and jerking him around the corner just as another round of arrows whipped passed. He stumbled into his rescuer, nearly knocking them both to the stone floor. Molly steadied him and grabbed his hand, tugging it behind her as they broke into a sprint.

‘Hurry up!’ John shouted from down the corridor, holding a large door open. Stitches in their sides, Molly and Sherlock raced toward safety, slipping inside and slamming the door closed. A trio of metallic thuds vibrated against the wood seconds later.

‘‘Come to Scotland’,’ Molly sang in a false baritone as they scrambled down the winding stone staircase.  ‘’It’ll be fun. We’ll visit some castles. You and Mary can do that shopping thing women do.’’

‘Is it my fault they’re using this place as a secret drug courier hideout?!’ Sherlock spat back.

Molly glanced back at him with a withering glare. ‘One holiday, Sherlock! One holiday without getting shot at! That’s all I ask!’

‘But they’re ninja archers, Molly!’

‘Now’s not the time, lovebirds!’ John shouted over his shoulder, just as the door above them banged open with a thunderous crash.

And I’d love to go where time stands still… And all that doesn’t matter fades away

Baker Street was an utter disaster. Molly froze in the doorway, her mouth dropping open at the mess in front of her. Tissues littered every available surface, half-filled bowls and cups were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, and there was a familiar Sherlock-sized lump on the sofa, buried beneath a mountain of blankets.

Dropping her work bag at her feet, she picked her way over to the lump and, shoving aside a pile of dishes and sitting on the edge of the table.

‘Sherlock?’ She whispered, pulling back the edge of the topmost blanket. Ruffled curls peeked out and a muffled groan sounded from somewhere underneath. ‘Sherlock, are you sick?’

The blankets shifted as he turned over and tugged them down away from his pale face. ‘What gave it away?’

‘Oh, dear,’ Molly tsked and brushed a hand across his feverish forehead. ‘Why didn’t you call? I could have taken off a shift or two.’

‘D’nt wan to be a probl’m,’ he sighed and closed his eyes.

Molly smiled fondly and shook her head, brushing his sweaty curls away from his face. ‘You’re never a problem. I’ll go call John for a prescription and let Mike know I’m taking the next few days off.’

Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, but Molly cut him off with a kiss to his forehead. ‘No arguing, Mister Detective. Now, how does a hot, relaxing shower sound?’

‘Bloody marvelous,’ came the tired reply.

Worries seem to fade away… they become as distant memories… When we’re together

‘You’re supposed to step back.’

‘I did!’

‘With your right foot, not your left!’

‘Oh.’ Molly smiled sheepishly up at him, her shin still smarting from where he’d knocked into it. Sighing heavily, with a hint of a smile on his face, Sherlock held out his hands.

‘Let’s try it again.’

Her shoes abandoned long ago, Molly held the skirt of her dress off the ground with one hand, the glittering diamond on her finger now accompanied by a silver wedding band; her other hand was held tightly in Sherlock’s, the cool metal of his ring sending a thrill up her arm straight to her heart.


Unable to hold back her smile at the word, Molly absolutely floated as he led them around the dance floor in a smooth waltz, their audience forgotten.

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow and smirked. ‘Aren’t you glad we practiced?’

Rolling her eyes fondly, Molly pinched his fingers. ‘Oh… shut up.’

They took that piece of you away from me, long before I even claimed you as my own. Not your fault, Fitz. Not your fault.

Molly, Fool’s Assassin.

I tuned Molly out the first time I read the books; I did what I think is pretty common in fandom in that sense, and just tuned out the female love interest and dismissed her. But the more I reread, the more I really, really appreciate her. I appreciate how well she knows Fitz, I love that she cares about him and that she understands (in the above quote) that the way Fitz thinks was messed up pretty early and that normally he’s trying his best. The way she knows how important it is to put the blame in the right place. Yes, she and Fitz’s relationship in RA is problematic, but I still love them together. And I really, really love Molly. 

Gonna post some more Molly quotes later, I don’t see them around enough tbh. 

  • Molly: *relaxed sigh* Mmmm, that's nice...God, I'm so glad Mary talked me into this.
  • Masseuse: *deep chuckle; massaging Molly's back* 'ow ees zis?
  • Molly: *nods* Good.'s good, oils are nice...your hands *sighs* Very nice.
  • Masseuse: 'ave an 'ard day? *rubbing her neck and shoulders* Lots of tension 'ere.
  • Molly: *long sigh* Comes with the job, I'm afraid. But you're very good with your hands.
  • Masseuse: *smirks* I 'ave been told zis *massages lower* And I am certain you deserve ze attention.
  • Molly: *soft chuckle* You have no idea. I might have to hire you for some private you do that?
  • Masseuse: ...
  • Masseuse: *wipes brow; mouths* Oh my God, Molly!
  • Masseuse: *flustered; forgets accent* I-I'm sure we can make an arrangement.
  • Molly: *smiles* If you think I don't know that's you, Sherlock Holmes, your reputation should be called into question.
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *continues to massage her* Shhh, Molly.

Why does this fandom always have to end up making everything worse than it already is? Yes it fucking sucks that Stana and Tamala were fired - yes the show is not going to be the same without them if they renew it. BUT it is NOT Nathan’s fault. It’s not Molly’s fault. It’s not Toks’ fault. They don’t make these kinds of decisions and should not be attacked. 


Yes, you have every right to be pissed off and hurt, but not at the cast who have nothing to do with the hiring/firing of other cast members. 

Molly grew up on this show and it has to hold a special place in her heart and if I were her, I probably wouldn’t want to let it go either. So I don’t blame her for wanting to be optimistic about the future of the show, even if it’s most likely gonna flop if they get a season 9. 

And as for Nathan, y’all would hate him for anything. Hell, you probably blame him for global warming. But you hated him for not saying anything and now that he has said something, y’all are still hating him. So I don’t fucking understand what you want from him. Yes it doesn’t make sense to think about this show without Stana, but I’m not going to hate him for six words. Especially since he’s got to be in a fucking hard place right now. IF he does sign a contract and the show gets renewed, he’s going to be continuing withhold his partner, his female lead and you just know he’s going to be hated for it. But if he doesn’t sign on, some many other people will also be out of a job. So he’s in a rock and a hard place and NONE of us know what that feels like. 

You don’t like to like them, but you sure should fucking respect them because I don’t think Stana or Tamala for that matter would appreciate y’all dragging and hating on their cast members, who are probably like a family to them when they had nothing to fucking do with this. 

And as for the whole Stana and Nathan thing, WE DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM. All we know are the rumors and trash from trash sites and I can’t believe that y’all are that stupid and gullible, to believe everything you read on the internet. Especially from gossip sites. We may never know what went down between them, if anything actually did, but you know what? It’s also none of our god damn business if something did go down between them because it’s not our lives. 

Another thing. The fact that some of y’all have apparently given up on this season, knowing that this cast and crew have worked their asses off and put so much hardwork into giving these episodes makes y’all just as pathetic as ABC. Stana doesn’t deserve this, Tamala doesn’t deserve this, the cast doesn’t deserve this. Watch the rest of this season, give these characters this one last farewell and if we get a season 9, you don’t have to watch that. And I won’t blame you. But don’t punish the cast and their hardwork because ABC is a bunch of fuckheads