I want there to be punching. There needs to be a homoerotic fight.
John’s just caught in a period of latency. Activate rage mode countdown.
(Source: vhis)
au meme - sherlock as cabin pressure
↳thanks to the people who gave me their favourite quotes/i borrowed concepts from
(also please excuse john/arthur’s excitement in the polar bears gif.)
Via CUMBERLAND
iwaspromisedteaandcakeordeath:
The Bakerstreet Boys
Ginger, Baby, Posh, Sporty, Scary.
Yep, that’s where my mind went.
They’re boy band. Totally are.
This needs serious attention on the part of the BBC. Now. Make recordings.
LOLING SO HARD! especially sporty, I can’t even.
Reblogging for that^^^ GINGER, BABY, POSH, SPORTY, SCARY
omg.
So who’s the lead singer?
I’m kinda scared of how accurate that is.
‘pecially Sporty and Baby. :’D
As long as you consult me
Show me the meaning of being jammy
Quit playing games with my umbrella
Shape of my football ball
I want it that way
Mark… dont look at me like that, I actually got goosebumps
“Some people have that roar in their head, but I’m not sure I ever did. That live-fast-die-young thing. No one wants it really, it’s not good”
(Source: sherleck)
Via To Frolic in Matt Smith's Follicles
Dear Sherlock’s buttons,
Give up… please… just give up.
Serenely,
The entire friggin Sherlockian fandom
Via DAME BENADDICT CUMBERLORD
“Your brother sent me something interesting this morning.” John grinned cheekily.
Sherlock huffed an annoyed sigh from the kitchen table; his eyes steeped right into the eyepiece of his microscope. “Interesting by whose standard?”
“Mine, I guess. You know, were cute when you were four…” The doctor tossed back casually. “…what happened?” He teased.John couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard Sherlock’s chair immediately push back with a low scrape. There was a brief breeze that accompanied the body of the consulting detective as he leaned over the chair - ignoring John’s personal space, as always, in order to view the content on his laptop.
“Oh god.” Sherlock groaned. His mouth turned down into a childish pout, which accompanied his furrowed brow brilliantly.
There was a picture of him,: Sherlock, age 4.
“Christ, you look just as severe then as you do now.” John muttered, glancing at the intruding head beside his. “But… cute as a button.”
Sherlock petulantly reached forward and closed the laptop. “I require a picture of you at the age of four to square the field. NOW, John.” He tantrumed.
(Source: dramatis-echo)


