Sure. Why not? (Warnings for the following fic being very, very dark indeed.)
“You can’t do anything Molly,” Greg said, giving a sigh and rubbing at his temple.
“That’s the problem!” she snapped, tapping her foot impatiently, curling in against herself. Never had she felt so useless.
“It’s been five months – there aren’t any clues – no real leads. It’s been declared unsolved.”
And that was supposed to comfort her? “He’s out there,” she said softly. “I know he is. I can’t just sit about and do nothing. There has to be something I can do, Greg!”
“There is nothing!” Greg said his voice almost a shout. He sank forward, fixing his eyes on hers. His features were sunken with defeat. “Sherlock’s gone, Molly. We can’t do anything about it.”
please please please
oh NO a GIRL!!!!!! with HAIR in places that HAIR GROWS !!!! AHH!!!!!
i won’t lie
i am in fact an “attention whore”
i need to feel like i actually matter to people
i need to feel like i’m not a totally horrible person
i need to feel like there are people who love me
because i’m certainly not gonna do it myself
you guys should stop making me want to watch new tv shows i’m supposed to live a life
british people are so fucking cute
they called christmas lights ‘fairy lights’
they called sweaters ‘jumpers’
sneakers are ‘trainers’
they say ‘you alright/you ok’ instead of ‘how are you’
fuck off you condescending twat
Most British sentence I’ve ever heard