HAVE THE JOHNLOCK FANS SEEN THIS YET OR
Lmao! I’ve seen this! Omg.
I can only imagine how shippers will react if something like this happened in Series 3… EVERYONE WILL PROBABLY GO FUCKING APESHIT!
I have never laughed so much in my life
WHAT THE OMFG WHAT IS AIR
you must understand Watson my emotion run very high when ever I solve a mystery
I AM SCREAMING
will someone please take photoshop away from me
I love this.
Benedict explaining the difference between the two characters
Victoria and Albert Museum, London, UK (by Arnodil)
richard speight jr:
okay so today I was at the mall and this girl walking in front of me and tripped and fell and instead of helping her up like a normal person would- I decided to make her feel less embarrassed and fall down too
but I guess another guy had the same idea because we fell at the same time
and then another person fell
and suddenly I was lying in the middle of an impromptu fainting mob and a lot of people were shouting
and the girl who’d originally fallen looked so fucking happy
OH MY FUCKING GOD
So we did this to our band room last week, and I wanted to take a mini Misha to Misha when I saw him at Comic Con, so I ripped one off for him, but the head came off! (I ripped a second one but brought the first to show him haha) When shown the picture of our tear-off sheet he chuckled :D he’d never seen one like that before haha Then I have him tiny headless Misha and he held him up to his head so I could take a picture!! xD Brilliant brilliant man right there folks ❤ reblog if you love this man!
Jackunzel Week: Day 4
She’d slipped right through his fingers. He’d watched her, and there wasn’t a thing he could do.
It was all his fault. He brought this upon them both.
Pitch had wanted revenge. He wanted to destroy Jack…and he had succeeded.
She was the only thing that had ever made him truly happy in his entire immortal life. The only ray of sunshine, the only thing that could bring a genuine smile to his pale, tired face.
And now she was gone. She’d been stolen from him.
At first he didn’t know why she suddenly stopped responding to him. One day, he’d entered the shadowy tower only to find her huddled on the floor, completely dejected and broken. Her green eyes were empty and shattered. Her blond hair was dull, having lost its usual golden luster. He approached her gently, uttering her name in a soft, fearful voice that was so unlike him.
She did not answer to it.
In a sudden panic, he raced around to look up into her face. All he saw was destruction and fear. He searched desperately for some form of recognition in her eyes, but there was none.
With a sickening jolt, he realized what Pitch had done to the girl he loved. Nightmares—so, so many ruthless, horrible nightmares had haunted her mind and tainted it with fear. They had drained the light out of her. Her fervent belief in everything good—something that had once made her dance and sing and shine—had been extinguished by darkness. And it was all because of him.
With a shaking hand, he reached out to touch her shoulder.
And his worst fears were at last confirmed.
His hand passed right through her, nothing more than a ghostly vapor that didn’t exist. His breath hitched in his throat and his view of her blurred with tears. This was his darkest nightmare, the only thing he could think of that honestly terrified him. He was completely invisible to her for a second time.
She had forgotten him.
He searched desperately for a trace of her former self, some vestige of the beautiful, laughing girl she’d once been.
But that girl was gone, replaced with dead eyes that could no longer see him.
“Why can’t you see me?” he whispered, his voice trembling. Then, when the fear had rooted itself firmly in his chest and he fully realized what this meant, he clutched his head and screamed. “Why can’t you see me? You said you would never forget me! You said you’d never leave me alone again! Why did you lie, Rapunzel? Why don’t you believe in me anymore?”
She remained still as a statue, with only the slight rising and falling of her chest to tell she was really alive. But she wasn’t really, was she?
Suddenly he backed away from her as if he’d been shocked. He felt cold. The sensation was so foreign that the starkness of it scared him. Inevitably, snow began to fall in the room, lightly at first, but gradually it grew heavy. Made sense. The cold followed him wherever he went. Now that she was no longer his source of warmth, why not here as well?
This was all his fault. If it hadn’t been for him, this would never have happened to her. She didn’t deserve it, but he…he did. He was the one who had damned them both.
He’d watched the last of her innocence fade away, and he could never get it back for her. Now he would live out the rest of his immortal life eternally banned from his sunshine.
With a heavy, aching heart, he leapt onto the windowsill and was swept away on a bitter breeze.
Credit to Anna, whose headcanon this was based off of!
Kirsty Mitchell’s late mother Maureen was an English teacher who spent her life inspiring generations of children with imaginative stories and plays. Following Maureen’s death from a brain tumour in 2008, Kirsty channelled her grief into her passion for photography.
She retreated behind the lens of her camera and created Wonderland, an ethereal fantasy world. The photographic series began as a small summer project but grew into an inspirational creative journey.
‘Real life became a difficult place to deal with, and I found myself retreating further into an alternative existence through the portal of my camera,’ said the artist. (read the rest here).
this man is my fucking president oh my god