#molls.family

[molly-hooper-uk]

Look at my love. ♥

Sherlock’s parents are absolutely lovely. Just absolutely lovely! 

I think Sherlock forgot to tell them we were coming because they came home from Cardiff and looked absolutely shocked to see him there. Then they seemed doubly shocked to see ME there. And then further shocked still when they learned who I was. Not my name, they knew my name, of course (I don’t know why that surprised me, but it did). They were surprised to have Sherlock introducing me as.. 

“This is Molly Hooper. My... you know.” 

After an uncomfortable moment of Sherlock looking vaguely digestively-disturbed, myself smiling far too large with awful red cheeks, and his mum and dad exchanging flummoxed looks, his mum finally verbally nudged him. “You know...?”

He looked fully digestively-uncomfortable by then and quickly spat out, “Oh, you know what. My girlfriend!”

And before he could stick around to see the truly baffled expressions on their faces, he grabbed up Basil’s leash, announced “Walkies” and he and the puppy tore out, with the door slamming behind them. Before it fully closed, however, he told us to “talk amongst yourselves... or whatever, you know.”

For a moment after, I watched Sherlock’s mum and dad stare at each other in bewilderment before they both seemed to come to life at once. “A girlfriend!” His mum exclaimed before I was pinned to her chest in a surprisingly tight hug.

It turns out, we didn’t need Sherlock there to get on just fine! We let him walk off his relationship anxiety while we chatted just like old mates. His mum made tea and his dad opened a box of biscuits and we tucked into that at the old kitchen table. By the time Sherlock came home, I was knee deep in photo albums with them in the living room and before he could fully roll his eyes to Surrey and back, his mom had him trapped in a hug as well. “My booooy!” She said first, before she whispered, “We like her.”

“Well of course you like her. She’s Molly Hooper!” he said in annoyance, like she ought to have known. Thankfully though, he was less tense now and eventually joined us to look at “Oh, good. Embarrassing pictures of Mycroft.”

I’ve got to say.. this was just about the best day I’ve ever had.

- Molly ♥

#sherlolly #mollock #221B.SL2 #molls.the science of he and i #molls.him #molls.family #molls.rambles #molls.blog

[molly-hooper-uk]

Hello, fellow. ♥

Him (While he’s posing): “Molly Hooper, I find your tendency to take photographs from above and behind me very bothersome when I’m trying to concentrate.”

Me (smiling, as I ready the picture): “Well, you always pose!”

Him (still posing): “Yes, well. It’s still bothersome.”

His mum from the kitchen sink: “He’ll pose for an hour as long as he gets to complain while he does it.”

Him: (Gives a thumbs up.)

Me: (Tittering, I take the picture.)

His mum:  “You two.”

Mycroft (From the other side of the table): Tell me, is this the appropriate time to vomit?

#sherlolly #mollock #molls.the science of he and i #molls.him #molls.family #molls.mycroft #molls.blog

[molly-hooper-uk]

Reproduction deduction.

Well then, after a go at a few of our conversations, I figured I ought to right and proper update my blog. It’s been years, really. Life takes over as it’s wont to do and time just gets away from you. I’ll try to fill you all in as best I can with the little time I have right now.

If you’ve followed my blog at all, you’ll have probably guessed that Sherlock brought up the idea of having a child. I confess, it was the last thing I thought would ever happen, aside from US happening at all. Because of that, we’re having quite a lot of sex right now. He’s got charts, a thermometer, vitamins. He treats this endeavor between us with the same obsessive fervor he approaches everything else. He’s meticulous, and while you would think that would take away from the experience, it’s so bloody Sherlock, I can’t help but find it charming. Just last night we were... you know.. and right in the middle of it all, he pauses, takes my temperature with a temporal thermometer, and then carries on like he hadn’t done it at all. It was quite funny, though he seemed rather put off that I laughed. “This is serious business, Muh-LEE. Do try and keep up.”

Before this, our sex life wasn’t exactly active. He abstains from everything when he’s on a case; food, fun, pleasure, though he has never seen himself as a very sexual person and in turn, neither have I. Sherlock is Sherlock and it’s Sherlock that I love. Sex, no sex, we have just as much fun talking cases and post-mortems. There’s intimacy in our sharing information with one another. He’s taught me so much and in turn he’s refined my intuition. I love him and though he says it very rarely, I know the sentiment is returned in his way. When he says something meaningful, it’s always out of the blue and it never fails to give me the wubblies. “I like your clothes.” He said once, recently out of no where. “My tatty jumpers?” I asked. His answer, “Yes.” And that was the end of it. And it was enough. It was more than enough.

Out of the home front, Kingston, Sherrinford’s young son has topped up a bit to be a bit of a mischief maker. He’s bought a series of Native American romance novels with Sherlock’s Amazon account and I’ve been reading them and regaling Sherlock with the litany of hilarious words and phrases peppered throughout the pages. Kingston also purchased an entire set of The Walking Dead prayer candles, which he immediately deposited all over Mycroft’s flat upon their arrival, much to his chagrin.

I think it’s quite funny, the image of Kingston Holmes standing at the end of the dark hall with a Daryl Dixon candle lighting his face. I wish I could have seen Mycroft’s face. I often wish I could see his face when it comes to the things Kingston does. I think he’s been good for Mycroft. He’s still same old, Mycroft, but Kingston connects him to the world in a way I think he’d been missing.

Well, I’d better be off! Sherlock’s standing in the door with the thermometer again and giving me THE LOOK he gives me when he’s about to tell me to hurry because his time is being wasted by him waiting for me to finish my blog. He has things to do, like put eyeballs on the ceiling or thumbs in the kettle. (We’ve gone through 6 kettles since I’ve lived here. Six kettles!)

- Molly ♥

#molls.blog #molls.rambles #molls.him #molls.family #221B.SL1

[molly-hooper-uk]

West Ham did so shit, I'm getting a divorce and cultivating cheeses in Dorset for the rest of my bloody life.

-Text from my brother. (Cultivating cheeses?)

#molls.blog #molls.family #221B.SL1

[molly-hooper-uk]

Home from work.

And what's waiting for me? EastEnders, that's what. Or more specifically, my mum's EastEnders phone call. My mum is completely obsessed with it and I don't understand. More than that, I don't understand why she's got to phone me right in the middle of it to complain about it. But she doesn't complain to me, she complains to the TV and I've got to just sit there and listen to it. She keeps a tally of how many characters have died because she DOES things like that.

"Molly, fourteen people have died on EastEnders since you've had a proper date," she said to me once.

Can you believe that!?

It makes me laugh all over again, it's so absurd.

Me mum, everyone. Best mum ever. Most ridiculous mum ever.

- Molly ♥

#molly hooper rp #molls.blog #molls.family #221B.SL1