Miss me?
Holy water cannot help you now A thousand armies couldn't keep me out I don't want your money I don't want your crown See I've come to burn Your kingdom down

Maybe, when I fall to my knees, dying for your cause, you will realize how far I was yours

posted on 03.09.2014 at 12:20 via m0untain-bird - 1 note [ reblog ]
tagged as: #landscape


Norway, 2014 | by Atle Rønningen

posted on 02.09.2014 at 8:35 via trenzalre © foxmouth - 4,171 notes [ reblog ]
tagged as: #landscape

"I am you. Prepared to do anything. Prepared to burn."




intelligence is such a turn on

so is a huge co*ck

why did you put an asterisk you still spelt the whole word

See spicegorl? that’s what we’re talking about

❝Spend your free time the way you like, not the way you think you’re supposed to. Stay home on New Year’s Eve if that’s what makes you happy. Skip the committee meeting. Cross the street to avoid making aimless chitchat with random acquaintances. Read. Cook. Run. Write a story.❞

--Susan Cain (via lovequotesrus)
❝I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.❞

--Sylvia Plath, from Lady Lazarus (via violentwavesofemotion)

posted on 02.09.2014 at 8:18 via violentwavesofemotion - 912 notes [ reblog ]
tagged as: #words


What is happening? (⊙︿⊙)

The proposal was always going to be a spectacularly bad idea. 

Molly Hooper had been growing distant, no matter how many extravagant bunches of flowers Jim had delivered to her at work, nor evenings he spent with her cat in his lap, discussing the future of forensics or the last episode of fucking Glee. It had started after that day at the lab, his introduction to Sherlock Holmes. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but she’d most certainly been trying to avoid him. And when they were together, she looked at him just a little too closely, like she was trying to see through him. 

Jim didn’t like losing. It didn’t help that, upon sharing the issue with Sebastian, his sniper had laughed so hard that he’d almost snorted imported German beer through his nose, leaning back on the sofa and clutching his stomach. Jim had scowled, sat beside him with a bowl of expensive olives. 

He stood now, holding a ring box, the rock inside pathetically small, but believable for an ‘IT. Worker’ salary. He’d picked it out of a high street catalogue, for fuck sake. 

The water was running, and he could hear Sebastian singing quietly, like he did when he thought that no one was listening. Jim always listened. He liked his sniper’s voice. 

He had to tell him, he knew. If not only to brag that things were going better now, that he had confidence in the plan. But then again, he might try and stop him.. Sebastian wasn’t exactly keen on sharing, even if it was for a job, even if Jim assured him that it wasn’t actually.. him. 

He decided to take a calculated risk.

”..Seb..” He called, stretching out the vowel in a way that was sweetly innocent, suggesting that he might want something. The singing stopped, and rather suspiciously, Sebastian called back;

”..What have you done?”

Jim toed on his shoes. He straightened his suit jacket, pocketed the ring box. He braced one hand on the wall, ready to run. 

"I’m going out."

"Where are you going?" The words were still suspicious, and Jim could imagine him standing still beneath the water, eyes narrowed slightly, knowing that something was.. wrong. 

"To see Molly."

He eyed the front door, bracing himself, not letting Sebastian reply before adding a hasty; “..I’m proposing.”


Sebastian was out of the shower in a loud clatter of thundering feet, a hand on the door tearing off the lock, though Jim was already at the bottom of the stairs and racing for the door. Sebastian came chasing after him, and Jim cursed himself for choosing a restaurant that was so damned close to the flat. Molly had suggested it, unaware that Jim lived so close. Unaware that he had something planned.

Jim laughed a little breathlessly, ring box clasped in his hand as he swung through the restaurant doors, staggering to a stop, the maitre d and other diners looking around alarmedly. Jim cleared his throat, straightened his jacket, and sauntered to the desk.

"I’m meeting a Molly Hooper." He managed, trying to compose himself. Sebastian wouldn’t try anything here. By the time he’d had time to get dressed, put on shoes, the deed would be done - even if he’d seen where Jim had gone. 

"Of course, sir. This way."

The waitress lead him to a table in the back, like he’d requested - champagne on ice and dim lighting, and Molly Hooper was already sat there, looking rather nice in a black off the shoulder number, if Jim was allowed to say so. 

He smiled, nodding at the waitress and then taking his seat, kissing Molly’s hand with a nervous titter, falling easily into his Richard Brook. 

"I hope you haven’t been waiting long.." He fretted, dark eyes wide, and Molly laughed herself, quiet and shy, and shook her head.

"Oh - no.. not long at all. I think I must have only gotten here a minute or so before you did!"

"Great timing!" Jim complimented with a smile, and they both laughed, the picture sickeningly sweet. Molly reached across timidly, and rested a hand on Jim’s own. Perhaps this was salvagable after all then.. She’d almost certainly agree to marry him. 

The waitress approached to take their drink orders, and Jim looked up serenely - only for an ear splitting smash to disturb the peace, Molly screaming and the other diners leaping from their seats. 

Sebastian stood outside the shattered window, a gun hanging from his hand and his eyes dark enough to strike a kind of dizzying heat into Jim’s chest. 

He was completely naked. 

Jim got up slowly, a scowl beginning on his face, though Molly was clinging to him, trying to pull him towards the back of the restaurant, to hide from the gunman. He let her, angry at him, at his clear intention to ruin this mission. This mission that Jim had put blood, sweat and tears into. 

"Jim! Come on! Please, let’s move!" Molly pleaded, and those dark eyes fixed on him, Sebastian stepping inside, ignoring the screaming staff as they threatened to call the police, one man even frantically waving a fire extinguisher. 

He walked over slowly, holding Jim’s gaze, the shared stare burning. Molly continued to push Jim back, but he stopped allowing her to do so, going stiff. This mission was ruined. Sebastian had made sure of that. It would not go without punishment. 

"You." The sniper growled, and jabbed the gun in Jim’s direction. Eyes swivelled to him, terrified diners, staff and Molly. "Me. Home. Now." The gun was jabbed back at the window, and Molly gave a whimper of "..Jim?"

She was holding onto his arm, confused. 

Jim scowled, narrowing his eyes. “No.” He said stubbornly, folding his arms over his chest. 

"Jim." Sebastian clenched his teeth, those eyes dangerous. "Now." He ordered slowly. 

Jim tilted his nose into the air, looking away. He didn’t care if he was being petty. “..No.” He said simply. 

A beat passed.

And then.


The gun was tossed down with a clatter, hitting broken glass, and a few of the diners jumped at the sound, all watching intently as Sebastian marched towards Jim, and then rather unexpectedly sending a shoulder into his stomach, bending him double and then lifting him under an arm. 

Molly gasped, shouting Jim’s name, but Jim just wriggled, fucking mortified, kicking his legs and trying to hit out at his sniper, to no real effect. His shoes and fists met air, but when they met skin, Sebastian didn’t react. He gave an about turn, marching straight back out of the restaurant.

"Sebastian! You fucking let me down - you let me down, right now! I’m going to fucking kill you..-“

They were in the street now. Jim could hear anxious voices follow them from the restaurant, the wail of a siren in the distance. His heart thumped with a kind of excited thrum, though that indignant anger still burned in his chest, humiliated. But heat fizzled down into his stomach at Sebastian’s words, a low growl of a teasing threat.

”..You just wait until I get you home..”

posted on 02.09.2014 at 8:12 via burntsherlock © mormorphone - 153 notes [ reblog ]
tagged as: #mormor

posted on 02.09.2014 at 7:58 via dortlich - 14,729 notes [ reblog ]
tagged as: #landscape
❝Speak softly and employ a huge man with a crowbar.❞

--Going Postal - Terry Pratchett (2004)
❝Never apologize for burning too brightly or collapsing into yourself every night. That is how galaxies are made.❞

--Tyler Kent White  (via 90377)