So um…did someone secretly promo me while I was sleeping or something? Just curious really, because I see no other reason why I should have gained that many followers overnight.

Not complaining though, just curious! Hello everyone, lovely to see you!





pernillo:

deareje:

Benedict Cumberbatch and Matt Smith attend the Esquire & Mr Porter London Collections: Mens Party at Corinthia Hotel London on June 15, 2012 in London, England





People fall out of the world sometimes,

He had fallen – fallen not just off of a building, not just down to the pavement, but straight out of John’s world never to return. The fall had only lasted a moment, really, a heart-stopping, eternal moment that hung frozen in the air for so long it seemed that time would never start again and yet was over in the blink of an eye. One blink, one gasp, one horrified breath of utter disbelief and shock at the impossible thing that was happening, and then it was over. Sherlock had fallen, fallen further and faster than John could ever hope reach him and left nothing but broken pieces behind. Shattered fragments that needed to be gathered up, but couldn’t. An empty life that needed to continue, but shouldn’t. What was there to live for now?

but they always leave traces, little things you can’t quite account for:

It would have been easier if he had vanished entirely. If he had simply been erased from John’s life, gone without a trace and never to be seen again, it would have been so much easier to move on, let go, and heal. But it could never be that simple, that painless. Life was full of little reminders, little shards of memory that appeared to wound and cut when John was least expecting them. Sherlock was around every corner, hiding in plain sight, filling up the empty shell of John’s life in death just as he had in life. The flat was too much – it was soaked in reminders of happier days and shared laughter, leaving nothing but a jagged edge to constantly reopen the wound and recall to him what it was like to live without pain. And so he fled, running from the remnants and the memories and the traces of what he had lost and hoping in vain that he could forget. 

Read More



So here I am, casually checking on this story not expecting much of anything.

And then I see this







I can guaruntee you that if I’ve ever expressed an opinion about something, Neil Gaiman’s articulated it better.



eliminated-impossibilities:

Oh Arthur, how we all adore you :P

eliminated-impossibilities:

Oh Arthur, how we all adore you :P





lunayda:

20 Day Sherlock Challenge: 
Day Ten - Favourite Scene in The Blind Banker: - Sherlock in the bank.

lunayda:

20 Day Sherlock Challenge: 

  • Day Ten - Favourite Scene in The Blind Banker: - Sherlock in the bank.


l-o-t-r:

And the leaves are now turning from green to gold…





with-cherry-on-top:

Brittany said it’s OK to post it.

Of course I did, it’s FABULOUS.

with-cherry-on-top:

Brittany said it’s OK to post it.

Of course I did, it’s FABULOUS.



Seriously, there’s an outrageous amount of running involved.



People fall out of the world sometimes,

He had fallen – fallen not just off of a building, not just down to the pavement, but straight out of John’s world never to return. The fall had only lasted a moment, really, a heart-stopping, eternal moment that hung frozen in the air for so long it seemed that time would never start again and yet was over in the blink of an eye. One blink, one gasp, one horrified breath of utter disbelief and shock at the impossible thing that was happening, and then it was over. Sherlock had fallen, fallen further and faster than John could ever hope reach him and left nothing but broken pieces behind. Shattered fragments that needed to be gathered up, but couldn’t. An empty life that needed to continue, but shouldn’t. What was there to live for now?

but they always leave traces, little things you can’t quite account for:

It would have been easier if he had vanished entirely. If he had simply been erased from John’s life, gone without a trace and never to be seen again, it would have been so much easier to move on, let go, and heal. But it could never be that simple, that painless. Life was full of little reminders, little shards of memory that appeared to wound and cut when John was least expecting them. Sherlock was around every corner, hiding in plain sight, filling up the empty shell of John’s life in death just as he had in life. The flat was too much – it was soaked in reminders of happier days and shared laughter, leaving nothing but a jagged edge to constantly reopen the wound and recall to him what it was like to live without pain. And so he fled, running from the remnants and the memories and the traces of what he had lost and hoping in vain that he could forget. 

Read More



inthetardiswithmartincrieff221b:

dearjimmoriarty:

For Brett and all of you in the Cabin Crew!



This is the most accurate summary of the Cabin Crew I have ever seen.

inthetardiswithmartincrieff221b:

dearjimmoriarty:

For Brett and all of you in the Cabin Crew!

This is the most accurate summary of the Cabin Crew I have ever seen.



planets-bend-between-us:

time and relative dimension in space

planets-bend-between-us:

time and relative dimension in space



icarusing:

belgravias:

HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT ABOUT HOW LONELY MARTIN CRIEFF IS AND HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO HUG HIM AND TAKE HIM IN AND TELL HIM HE’S MAGNIFICENT AND MAKE HIM SOME NICE FOOD AND OFFER A BED FOR THE NIGHT AND HOW YOU WANT TO HELP HIM WITH HIS BUISNESS AND HOW LOVELY HE IS TOO AND HE DOESN’T DESERVE THE SHIT HE GETS AND



T H E M E