Australian advertising is freaking brilliant.
The bowing down was the best by far.
can this exist in America?
“Take my wallet and leave me alone!”
This is what Ant-Man is going to be like.
and the real story of the consulting detective and his faithful blogger friend was all an imagination of the 10 year old John, whose reality at the orphanage was too hard for him to bear, and even harder to share with the 7 year old Sherlock. John was too old and Sherlock was too sick and neither would ever be adopted. Instead, John made up a game to solve the mysteries of their missing friends, who seemed to disappear every so often, taken from them by Moriarty, who, in fact was far too nice and far too helpful in finding children new homes and new parents. Children except for John and Sherlock. Sherlock couldn’t understand where their friends went, and never would, if John kept the game elaborate and interesting enough.
and then they go grab extra food the orphanage cook Mrs Hudson would sneak them, try to hinder all the hard work the genuinely nice and altruistic Mr Moriarty puts into finding children good homes, and jeer angrily every time Jim’s ‘clients’ came to pick up their new sons and daughters. Sherlock’s brother Mycroft keeps egging them on to find deeper truths in their adventures, wanting to open his little brother’s eyes to the truth but not having the heart to tell him directly. He just keeps hoping Sherlock will find out himself. Lestrade doesn’t care for any of this nonsense, but cares even less to stop it. Sherlock is addicted to his medicine if only to survive and John writes down the stories of their adventures to read to Sherlock and their friends too sleep. Sherlock never realizes that it’s all made up, and John carries both of their burdens from being rejected for adoption each time, until when Moriarty himself adopts little Sherlock and takes him to his loving family in Reinbach Falls.
And John is alone.
5am brain is dead rambling #drylaughter
THOMAS, YOUR TUMBLR IS SHOWING
Saturday died in my arms last night. yesterday i had a feeling it would be that day. i just had a feeling. i have never watched something die before. he wouldn’t eat or drink and just wanted to snuggle, and as soon as he stopped breathing, his teeth clenched and his entire body went stiff. i was really confused and am really fucking sad. he had a nice last day, though. after i came home from the darkroom my dad and i gave him a warm bath in the backyard while he nibbled on apples. then i wrapped him up in a little towel burrito and we walked all around the neighborhood and it sounds stupid but i just showed him all these flowers, because i thought maybe he, in his lil rabbit brain, would think they were really pretty or something. i think he did. and i talked to him a lot yesterday, more than usual. told him about when i first met him, told him about a bunch of nice times we’d had together in case he’d forgotten in his old age. i sound retarded being this sentimental about a rabbit but honestly he was one of my best friends. and when someone or something is there almost your whole life, whether it’s a person, or an animal, or even something dumb like a table or a blanket, you feel it when it leaves. i suppose it was time. but it doesn’t make it easier. he has been there almost my whole life. (14 years! he was insane) it’s crazy. fuck. loved that little buddy. so fucking much.
story time when i was 16 my mom and i were watching ellen and my mom says
‘oh look my favorite lesbian!’
and i said ‘i thought i was your favorite lesbian?’
and she just stared at me for a moment and said
‘oh ok. ‘
and we just continued watching
and thats how i came out to my mother
you know who else judges an entire category of people based on the actions of a few
your move, atheists
is fandomism going to become a thing?