mycroft-queenofcake:

twotwentyonebbakerst:

wearemagnetised:

…

nO.

whiskersandmagic:

timeywimeyconsultinghufflepuff:

babylocked:

thenextdragonborn:

gunslingerannie:

alichay:

gunslingerannie:

yankmywand:

#it’s the night before #and he knows he will never see sebastian again

At least one of my followers will enjoy this.

And by “enjoy” I mean “kill me for reblogging”.

FUCK YOU

FUCK YOU ALL

I SAW IT AND THOUGHT OF YOU

sherlocked-inside-the-tardis:

barely-breathe:

inspired by this lovely poem by Mary Elizabeth Fry. x

crayoladinosaurs:

This makes me ridiculously happy….

While simultaneously making me want to cry.

thebritishteapot:

Resized from this post

sketchlock:

bakerstreetbabes:

For Cesca 

OH GOD!!!

mycroftss:

sherlock meme ; six characters [6/6]
you’re a bit like my dad. he’s dead. no, sorry— when he was dying, he was always cheerful, he was lovely. except when he thought no one could see. i saw him once. he looked sad.

the life and lies of richard brook.

(as prompted by agates-link)

Sherlock knew better than to care about what John was doing. It didn’t matter how many times the army doctor had visited his therapist in the last year (21, each time more useless than the last) or whom John was now dating (a teacher by the name of Mary Morstan whom Sherlock didn’t see lasting more than three weeks) or how long it had been since John had last stepped foot into 221B (11 months, 3 days, and 2 hours); all that mattered was that John was safe. After all, caring was not an advantage, Sherlock thought to himself as he clutched a rag to the wound on his arm and watched the figure across the street limp away. 

(Trying out a new style. Seeing as how I usually write the dialogue out first before I fill in the rest of the scene, I’m going to try and write a dialogue-only snippet)

“Mum! Mum, there’s a new article about Sherlock Holmes in the paper! Have you read it yet? Wait, no, don’t spoil it for me! I’m sure this one will be even more brilliant than the one with the aluminium cane!”

“Mum, what’s a f- a ‘fraud’? And why does the paper say that Sherlock’s dead? He’s not dead, is he Mum? I mean, he’s a master of disguise, and he once got punched in the face just to help catch Irene Adler, so… so…”

“Mum, people that brilliant just don’t die! They— they just can’t! They can’t…”