Doth mother know, you weareth her drapes?
(via welcomethoughts)
People can preach all they want and feel wise, but only half of them actually adhere to their beliefs.
AVENGERS
8I Me gusta.
This is the best day ever.
Made Madrigals and got into National Honors Society. /It’s a fantastic day~!/
I think if I were to make one wish to a genie, it would be that everyone would be happy. That sounds stupid, and general, and stereotypical… but it is truly the best wish I can think of.
bluh
Le editing photos and drinking 7-up while I wait for some watermelons to grow on Minecraft.
It’s a good night.
Can I just say that you make an awesome fem!Sherlock? :)
I just convulsed in my chair. Thank you! You can have my heart if you need a transplant!
Bros
Did the Mapcrunch challenge, got put in birth-town. Already on the highway to the airport. I am so lucky. Suck on that.
George Bush Turnpike is long… :P
I hope I overcome this suckitude that has swallowed me. It’s kind of gross in here.
A Blog of Deductions: 0john-hamish-watson0: I’ll bring him a paper towel anyway, just so...
I’ll bring him a paper towel anyway, just so that he will wipe off his hands.
John walked back in to a thick, condensed atmosphere. Mycroft was studying Sherlock who was doing the same. Sherlock seemed to be multitasking though.
Hmmm… why didn’t he tell anyone about…
“Did you have to wait for so long?” John didn’t mean to sound snappy but he was. Mycroft wasn’t passing the paper towel.
John rolled his eyes and strode across the room and took the damp wad. Mycroft could have handed it to him. They were always so deep in thought they couldn’t perceive outside interactions. John dabbed Sherlock’s cheek and lip. “You might have to get stitches for this.”
He could have at least taken off his bloody ring before he punched Sherlock.
John shrugged and said, “My stomach is still grumbling so I’m going to grab a few crackers.” As John headed to the kitchen, the door buzzed. Sherlock flew upstairs to his violin as John set for the door.
John twisted the knob to welcome a smirking, judgemental-as-ever, Mycroft. John welcomed him in and took his umbrella and coat and hooked them onto the rack.
“How have you been?”
But Mycroft was frozen. “Where is he?” He inquired.
“Hm?”
Mycroft turned to John and said steely, “Where is Sherlock?”
John gulped and stuttered, “U-Upstairs he is. At that violin again… He arrived last night.”
Mycroft turned and took long strides up the stairs.
John couldn’t tell if he was angry or concerned but which ever it was, Sherlock was in for it.Mycroft was definitely angry, Sherlock could feel his eyes on his back as he entered the bedroom. He put his violin away in its case before turning to face his brother. “Mycroft, I…” He didn’t get another word out as Mycroft’s fist connected with the side of his jaw. His hand instantly reached up to gently massage his jaw. “Weren’t you clever to fake your own death.” He didn’t expect Mycroft to know that he in fact did not die. “He was going to have you and the few other people I care about killed. I couldn’t let that happen.” He said quietly. Mycroft left the room and headed down to the living room where John was. He followed after him after wiping a small bead of blood from his lip.
Sherlock didn’t understand how he knew that he was still alive. Had he been careless and been seen by someone? No. He was cautious. No one could, should, have known he was alive.
John saw Sherlock come down after Mycroft; Sherlock’s lip was scarlet. Gauze and band-aids were in the lower cabinet. “I’ll get you a piece of gauze for that.” John scurried in to the kitchen.
Jesus, he didn’t have to punch him. He didn’t want to be in the same room as those two while they were having a fit. Both of them have mastered hand to hand combat… Surely they won’t beat each other up.
The gauze was old, but it would work.
Sherlock costume in progress for Murder mystery(which I am in the process of writing.)
Of course I’ll be a fem!Sherlock(and I’ll get my hair curled) but yez. c:
I feel really snazzy in that coat.
John muttered something along the lines of, “Ignorance? Oh piss off.”
John sighed and fished for his phone in his pockets. Keys, his ID, and…. aha! His phone. It was smooth, scratched; the one he got from Harry was stowed away after Sherlock died. John bought a new phone by that time and has liked it ever since. Easy to navigate.
“Mycroft, could you spare time to visit the flat today? Sorry we haven’t talked in a while, but Mrs. Hudson is still gone for her nieces wedding and won’t be back and I was wanting to have tea with someone. Come whenever. JW”
John smiled, “There haven’t been many things going on in a long while.”He watched him pull out his phone, his new phone. “You got a new phone. I quite liked the old one.” Mycroft would be coming over today and he expected one of two reactions from him. One of which results in something worse then getting slapped by John. He walked over to the window and watched the streets below. “No, no there haven’t.”
It was so natural to have him back. Maybe he should cancel that meeting with his therapist.
Come to think of it, his limp wasn’t affecting him again.
John perked up as his pocket buzzed, NEW TEXT FROM: Mycroft H.
“Good for you, I was just down the street picking up a few things from the bank. I’ll be seeing you soon. MH”
“He’ll be here momentarily he says. Want a bite to eat? You haven’t eaten yet today have you?”
