Bubblegum Bitch

(via the-organizedinsanity)

(via leaky-sneaky-oprichniki)

sherlocked-inside-the-tardis:

honeyyoushouldseemeinacrown:

faceityourenevergonnamakeit:

sherlocked-inside-the-tardis:

avengingshit:

“He said you do that.”

#skdjajkaygh #i just think about sherlock being alone during his hiatus and talking out loud and then looking around and realizing john isn’t there

“…and then, when I told her about the cologne on her boyfriend, she tried to—” Sherlock looked up to find that, once again, John wasn’t there. It had been almost month since his ‘fall,’ but he still couldn’t seem to get used to not having John around. He had managed to get used to nearly everything else, but not having John around was going to take some work.

He sighed and got up, wishing he had his violin, even though he knew it wouldn’t help. He picked up his phone and flipped through the texts he had received since the fall.

Went to your funeral today. You would have found it boring. Sentiment and all that. You pretended not to understand it, didn’t you. -JW

I made two cups of tea again. I left yours by your chair. Maybe you’ll come back. -JW

The tea was still there when I woke up. Maybe you weren’t thirsty. -JW

I’ve started working again. Not at St. Barts, though. Can’t deal with that place right now. -JW

I got a call from Harry. Says I should go live with her. I can’t, though. I keep thinking that you’ll come back. -JW

Please come back, Sherlock. -JW

I won’t even complain when you play the violin at three in the morning. -JW

I met a new girl today, but could already tell that she was a chronic cheater. I guess you rubbed off on me. -JW

My therapist says I should stop texting you. Maybe she’s right. Then again, I don’t know what’s right anymore, though. -JW

You’re probably not even getting any of this. -JW

Lestrade visited today. Offered to let me stay at his for the night. Just for some company. I couldn’t do it. -JW

Anderson was gloating about how he knew you were a fraud all along. He left with a bloody nose. -JW

I don’t think Sally’s too pleased. -JW

They tried to take your violin away. I wouldn’t let them. I wouldn’t let them touch anything in your room, in case you do come back some day. -JW

I’m having the nightmares again. But this time, I just see you falling. And I try to catch you, but it’s always too late. Always. -JW

I was supposed to protect you. I guess I can’t do anything right. -JW

I thought I saw you at work today. My heart literally lept, but you disappeared. You always do. -JW

God, just give me a sign. Anything. I just need to know you’re alive. Please. -JW

Sherlock looked away from the phone. The texts still came in a steady flow every day. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. He was already running risks, checking up on John in various disguises. He had nearly been caught a few times, too. He leaned back in his chair, his legs stretched before him, crossed at the ankles, phone dangling from a hand that hung off of the arm of the chair.

He missed John.

—

A year and a half passed. He was getting closer and closer to completely eliminating the web. The texts still came in a steady flow every day. It kept Sherlock sane. Kept him from using. Kept him alive.

I was watching crap telly again. Not the same without you shouting abuse at them now. -JW

Your brother was quite insistent that I go back to my therapist. I’d rather not, though. It’s not helping. -JW

It still hurts, Sherlock. It’s been over a year and it still hurts. Why does it still hurt? -JW

I still make two cups of tea a day. You still never drink yours. -JW

—

Two years later, he had finally cornered the last member of the web, taking care of him with one clean shot in the temple. After the man was dead, Sherlock sat down, staring at the corpse for a good two hours.

It was done.

The web was disintegrated.

And then, out of nowhere, he felt an almost manic explosion of laughter burst out of him. He was laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. Or was he crying? Emotions of glee and desperation racked his body, reducing him to a shaking pile next to a dead man. Finally, he managed to stand up and pull himself together, leaving the corpse where it lay and quickly typing out a text before heading back home.

Put the kettle on. -SH

Oh my lord :D

John stared at the text before him, rubbing his eyes a few times, not quite trusting his eyes anymore. It didn’t vanish this time, like so many of the others had before it. Was he dreaming then? No, he was definitely, definitely awake. Even though this felt like a dream, like a daze. Was it actually happening? He stared at the text again, willing the words to shift and change, twist or fade, something, before he started believing them.

Put the kettle on. -SH

The words were still there, no matter how many times he stubbornly screwed his eyes shut, trying to blink them away. Why wouldn’t they move? He frowned, his brows knitting together in thought as he even went as far as to prod the screen — move already, would you? They stubbornly stayed put, however. So, real then? The furrow in his brow deepened, the corners of his mouth stretching downward and his lower lip jutting out as he thought about this, the implications of the message finally hitting him all at once.

Sherlock.

Sherlock was coming home.

At some point in the future, he would wonder how Sherlock survived. Why he never told him. What he’d been doing all these years, damn it, but for now, for now, he pushed all of that aside, focusing only on the revelation.

Sherlock. Alive. Coming. Now.

He hit the reply button, carefully typing out a response. His insides were doing strange things — his stomach was falling through to his feet even as his heart was rising up toward his throat. His palms were slick with sweat, but his hands were steady — a natural reaction to stressful situations, wasn’t it? That’s what Mycroft had said at their first meeting all those years ago — he wasn’t haunted by the war; he missed it.

He and Sherlock had fought a war all those years ago, and they had won. Not without heavy casualties, of course — Sherlock himself being one of them until just a few minutes ago. That is, if this was actually happening… John couldn’t make up his mind, every few seconds changing his opinion — was it real, not real? Did it make a difference? He’d been sending Sherlock texts every day for the past three years, what difference would it possibly make if it turned out to just be his mind playing a trick on him?

What did he really have to lose?

He looked down at the typed message in his hands, reading and re-reading what he had written. To send or not to send? He took a deep breath, pushing SEND on the exhale.

How far away are you? -JW

His phone went off immediately, before he’d even had a chance to put it down.

Five minutes. -SH

A reply. Well that was new. Either he was going mad(der than he already was), or this was… 

real.

This was real.

It hits him all at once, suddenly, and he lets out a startled chuckle, overcome with emotion. Relief, worry, nausea, anger, joy… everything rushing through him at once, coursing through his veins, filling him with things he had thought were long-dead. The chuckle soon turns into genuine laughter, though he cannot tell why exactly he was laughing — joy? stress? Was it the stress? Was he finally broken? He typed out another message, giddy from the thought that Sherlock, his Sherlock, would actually be coming back to him. He put his phone down and pivoted, heading into the kitchen to make the tea Sherlock had requested. Perhaps tonight the second cup would be drained as well.

—

Sherlock stood outside of the familiar door to his — their — flat. It had been a long time, far too long. 221B. He reached down into the pocket of his long coat automatically as he heard the chime — John’s customised tone — indicating he’d received another message.

I’ll be waiting. -JW

He smiled to himself as he returned the phone to its pocket. He extended his wiry arm, giving the door one sharp rap as he waited for the long-overdue reunion with the army doctor on the other side of the door.

Reblogging for the continuation. :D THIS IS BRILLIANT. 

(Source: vitalyorlovs, via noottersontheflightdeck)

bakerstreetboyfriends:

fwips:

okay grade my dive on a score from 1-10 okay john john are you watching make sure to watch okay

Hahaha, Mycroft, guise.  Mycroft.

(Source: fuckmesherlock, via bbcsherlockftw)

bakerstreetboyfriends:

kirsten-johnlock:

dederants:

mycroft:

djpilapitiya:

Defensively Heterosexual John Watson  (Part 2)

Oh, Mrs. Hudson…

This one’s even better than the first one

But I didn’t say I’m not bisexual. DYING.

random-nexus:

mirabilelectu:

do-you-have-a-flag:

damianzworld:

YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR YELLOW CAR 

(via bakerstreetboyfriends)

scapegraces:

suuntaaminut:

invisiblefromimportance:

catchthelasttrain:

anowen18:

Have you ever noticed that when Sherlock talks to someone (usually Watson), there’s almost no personal space? 

personal space is overrated anyway

i see them as sherlock holmes and john watson being reincarnated over and over again just to meet each other in each lifetime… different face, different setting, different history, but their souls are just destined for each other.

oh god what am i doing

^ yes, what ARE you doing, you just can’t say stuff like that OH GOD

I’ll just go sit in the corner, curl up and rock back and forth while screaming. Because Johnlock. Their relationship is so perfect, it’s IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO CAN ANYTHING ANYMORE

^ WAIT I’M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO DOES THAT

I mean ACTUALLY DOES THAT

(via johnlockisreal)

bakerstreetboyfriends:

worldsonlyconsultingtimelord:

nichellen:

Kulula is a low-cost South-African airline that doesn’t take itself too seriously.
Check out their new livery!  And have a read about their Customer Relations.

Kulula is an Airline with head office situated in Johannesburg.  Kulula airline attendants make an effort to make the in-flight “safety lecture” and announcements a bit more entertaining. Here are some real examples that have been heard or reported:


On a Kulula flight, (there is no assigned seating, you just sit where you want) passengers were apparently having a hard time choosing, when a flight attendant announced, “People, people we’re not picking out furniture here, find a seat and get in it!”

                —-o0o—-

On another flight with a very “senior” flight attendant crew, the pilot said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve reached cruising altitude and will be turning down the cabin lights. This is for your comfort and to enhance the appearance of your flight attendants.”

                ——o0o—-

On landing, the stewardess said, “Please be sure to take all of your belongings.. If you’re going to leave anything, please make sure it’s something we’d like to have.”

                ——o0o—-

“There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane.”

                —-o0o—-

“Thank you for flying Kulula. We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride.”

                —-o0o—-

As the plane landed and was coming to a stop at Durban Airport , a lone voice came over the loudspeaker: “Whoa, big fella. WHOA!”

                —-o0o—-

After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in the Karoo , a flight attendant on a flight announced, “Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, after a landing like that, sure as hell everything has shifted.”

                —-o0o—-

From a Kulula employee: ” Welcome aboard Kulula 271 to Port Elizabeth.  To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight. It works just like every other seat belt; and, if you don’t know how to operate one, you probably shouldn’t be out in public unsupervised.”

                —-o0o—-

“In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child travelling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs. If you are travelling with more than one small child, pick your favourite.”

                —-o0o—-

Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but we’ll try to have them fixed before we arrive. Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you, or your money, more than Kulula Airlines.”

                ——o0o—-

“Your seats cushions can be used for flotation; and in the event of an emergency water landing, please paddle to shore and take them with our compliments.”

                —-o0o—-

“As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your belongings.  Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants. Please do not leave children or spouses.”

                —-o0o—-

And from the pilot during his welcome message: “Kulula Airlines is pleased to announce that we have some of the best flight attendants in the industry. Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight!”

                —-o0o—-

Heard on Kulula 255 just after a very hard landing in Cape Town : The flight attendant came on the intercom and said, “That was quite a bump and I know what y’all are thinking. I’m here to tell you it wasn’t the airline’s fault, it wasn’t the pilot’s fault, it wasn’t the flight attendant’s fault, it was the asphalt.”

                —-o0o—-

Overheard on a Kulula flight into Cape Town , on a particularly windy and bumpy day: During the final approach, the Captain really had to fight it. After an extremely hard landing, the Flight Attendant said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to The Mother City. Please remain in your seats with your seat belts fastened while the Captain taxis what’s left of our
airplane to the gate!”

                —-o0o—-

Another flight attendant’s comment on a less than perfect landing “We ask you to please remain seated as Captain Kangaroo bounces us to the terminal.”

                —-o0o—-

An airline pilot wrote that on this particular flight he had hammered his ship into the runway really hard. The airline had a policy which required the first officer to stand at the door while the passengers exited, smile, and give them a “Thanks for flying our airline. He said that, in light of his bad landing, he had a hard time looking the passengers in the eye, thinking that someone would have a smart comment.  Finally everyone had gotten off except for a little old lady walking with a cane. She said, “Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?”  “Why, no Ma’am,” said the pilot. “What is it?” The little old lady said, “Did we land, or were we shot down?”

                —-o0o—-

After a real crusher of a landing in Johannesburg , the attendant came on with, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain in your seats until Captain Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt against the gate. And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silenced, we will open the door and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the terminal..”

                —-o0o—-

Part of a flight attendant’s arrival announcement: “We’d like to thank you folks for flying with us today.. And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you’ll think of Kulula Airways.”

                —-o0o—-

Heard on a Kulula flight. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you wish to smoke, the smoking section on this airplane is on the wing.. If you can light ‘em, you can smoke ‘em.”

                —-o0o—-

A plane was taking off from Durban Airport . After it reached a  comfortable cruising altitude, the captain made an announcement over the intercom, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.  Welcome to Flight Number 293, non-stop from Durban to Cape Town , The weather ahead is good and, therefore,  we should have a smooth and uneventful flight.. Now sit back and relax… OH, MY GOODNESS!”  Silence  followed, and after a few minutes, the captain came back on the intercom and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I am so sorry if I scared you earlier.  While I was talking to you, the flight attendant accidentally spilled a cup of hot coffee in my lap. You should see the front of my pants!”  A passenger then yelled, “That’s nothing. You should see the back of mine!”

Guys.  Guys.  Guys.  It’s MJN.