They Came Through Cracks In Time

dangling-thpider:

I will ship the HEART out of you!

shercocklocked:

When John dreams, it isn’t of the war anymore. When John dreams, it’s always of Sherlock. They are always distorted, dark, perhaps vague memories of the times they spent together.

Sherlock isn’t himself. He makes coffee for John and remembers that John doesn’t take sugar, just a bit of cream. But that’s okay, because, John thinks, ‘he’s here’. John watches him as long as he can. Sometimes Sherlock’s mouth moves, but there’s no sound. That’s okay.

He’s here.

This is worse than dreaming of the war, he believes, when he blinks his eyes open and there’s no Sherlock, only the stale air of a flat he hates. It’s devoid of Sherlock’s smell and clutter, there’s no skull on his mantle, no spray paint on the wallpaper…

John prefers dreaming his dark, convoluted dreams because there, he can watch Sherlock for hours, or days. There, he isn’t alone and his best friend isn’t dead and he doesn’t have to visit a grave and wait until Mrs. Hudson leaves his side so he can cry. He only sees what he wants to and he says words he resisted when Sherlock was still there.

jimthefishisaninnuendo:

Source (x)

(Source: djfreeman)

skallagrimjones:

Dark chocolate cake with raspberry mousse filling and white chocolate buttercream.

wickedredhead:

*idiotic snorting*

Sherlock 1 to 10 [1 episode] — The Reichenbach Fall
“My best friend, Sherlock Holmes, is dead.”

shercocklocked:

Le·tho·log·i·ca [leth-oh-lah-ji-kah]
noun
—The inability to recall a precise word for something