barack-not-obama:

badgalfaashion:

underplay:

progressmarchon:

I’m sorry but I WILL FOREVER REBLOG THIS. I’m not sorry. This is amazing. 

fucking insane. mad respect

what the hell , I cant even draw a tree.

What if he screws up drawing the other eye

(Source: gaksdesigns, via ugly)

tjlc:

if johnlock isn’t real what was the thing that sherlock always meant to say but never had

I think about this on a daily basis.

(via sherolck)

meetingyourmaker:

The Great Game (Jim’s POV)
Actual events on that pool encounter.

meetingyourmaker:

The Great Game (Jim’s POV)

Actual events on that pool encounter.

(via moriartyaddiction)

puppyeyedandrewscott:

lokiyouwhore:

#Stand a little fucking closer why don’t you

Moriarty isn’t used to people with personal space issues because all of his employees fear and respect him too much to step too close… He has noticed that Sherlock tends to stand too close to people, especially John, but he is surprised when Sherlock is suddenly standing directly infront of him. Sherlock’s coat brushes his, he can feel his breath on his face. It smells very faintly of toothpaste. So he hadn’t eaten that day. Not even had coffee. Moriarty is flattered that he doesn’t need a stimulant to focus on him. He has to fight the urge to step back or push Sherlock away. For a moment he lets him talk, give his, “I may be on the side of the angels—” speech while he tries to calm himself down enough to remember what the plan was. He has to adjust a little bit but he is nothing if not flexible when it comes to his plans.
Suddenly Sherlock stops talking and Moriarty squints against the sun. He knows Sherlock is trained in martial arts - he has seen his certificate on his bedroom wall - and knows, that Sherlock could disarm and immobilise him in seconds at this distance. So he keeps him distracted by answering his pathetically theatrical speech about angels and grabbing his hand. He’s so close, he could just shoot him, even though he isn’t a perfect marksman, and walk away. But where to? Possible futures race through his head, genius plans that would go unappreciated because Sherlock would be dead and the police were just too stupid to get the funny little hints and clues he’d leave. Trying to get his henchmen to get excited about his clever ideas and just getting blank stares, like he was talking to a pet. Mycroft would be a nice challenge but that man was too cold. He didn’t like to play, he would just try to find him and stop him for good. Boring. His mouth has almost finished the sentence and he takes a split second to focus and review what the words had meant. “Good luck with that”. He pulls out the gun and Sherlock - finally - jumps away from him. For a second he can breath more easily again, then the barrel of the gun scrapes against his teeth and his finger closes around the trigger.

puppyeyedandrewscott:

lokiyouwhore:

#Stand a little fucking closer why don’t you

Moriarty isn’t used to people with personal space issues because all of his employees fear and respect him too much to step too close… He has noticed that Sherlock tends to stand too close to people, especially John, but he is surprised when Sherlock is suddenly standing directly infront of him. Sherlock’s coat brushes his, he can feel his breath on his face. It smells very faintly of toothpaste. So he hadn’t eaten that day. Not even had coffee. Moriarty is flattered that he doesn’t need a stimulant to focus on him. He has to fight the urge to step back or push Sherlock away. For a moment he lets him talk, give his, “I may be on the side of the angels—” speech while he tries to calm himself down enough to remember what the plan was. He has to adjust a little bit but he is nothing if not flexible when it comes to his plans.

Suddenly Sherlock stops talking and Moriarty squints against the sun. He knows Sherlock is trained in martial arts - he has seen his certificate on his bedroom wall - and knows, that Sherlock could disarm and immobilise him in seconds at this distance. So he keeps him distracted by answering his pathetically theatrical speech about angels and grabbing his hand. He’s so close, he could just shoot him, even though he isn’t a perfect marksman, and walk away. But where to? Possible futures race through his head, genius plans that would go unappreciated because Sherlock would be dead and the police were just too stupid to get the funny little hints and clues he’d leave. Trying to get his henchmen to get excited about his clever ideas and just getting blank stares, like he was talking to a pet. Mycroft would be a nice challenge but that man was too cold. He didn’t like to play, he would just try to find him and stop him for good. Boring. His mouth has almost finished the sentence and he takes a split second to focus and review what the words had meant. “Good luck with that”. He pulls out the gun and Sherlock - finally - jumps away from him. For a second he can breath more easily again, then the barrel of the gun scrapes against his teeth and his finger closes around the trigger.

(Source: altair, via insanemoriarty)

Tags: i

nyxweaver:

grandtrilobyte-eleshnorn:

nyxweaver:

sarkhan-volkswagen:

nyxweaver:

abzan-houses:

nyxweaver:

y’all remember that game in elementary school where each person would say one word and the next person would say a word etc so it’d create a cohesive story? let’s do that:

Two

Thousand

men

ate

their

dicks.

well playtime is over you’re all grounded

(via hotdamnmikey)

grrrlfever:

my life became 600% better when i started acting like a self obsessed piece of shit like 10/10 would recommend

even if u don’t actually genuinely love yourself its fuckin fun to act like you think you’re the human embodiment of perfection go on try it life’s too short to not fall in love with yourself

(Source: lesbolution, via i-hate-boy-bands)

thatsmoderatelyraven:

you could spell pennslyvnaia wrong and usually no one notices

(via allteensrelate)