Oh, that’s a rubbish title, forget that title.
Seriously; Matt’s upset face is the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.
It’s like the look a child gets when you’re trying to tell them their rabbit’s gone to heaven.
#There is something very young and vulnerable about the way he cries #Like he’s not trying to mask the tears or make them ”manly” #But they’re just there #And raw#Like his emotions #Matt Smith #is a phenomenal actor
i want to hug him and stroke his hair and tell him everything is going to be okay and omg his face. i cant.
oh my god my dad just went out to walk the dog and he must have got halfway down the street and then he just came back and I was like “what’s the matter” and he just said really quietly “i forgot the dog” and my dog was just siTTING BY THE DOORSTEP WITH HIS LEASH ON LOOKING REALLY SAD kOMFGYOD
quick speedpaint ‘cause this has been in my head for ages. phone depicted above is Sherlock’s, not John’s.
And then, on good days (when he can stand to think about him and all the good memories they had), John calls Sherlock’s cell just to hear his voice before he leaves a voicemail. It’s a ridiculous sounding message, but so inherently Sherlock, spoken in that bored and exasperated tone John knew too well: “Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. Don’t bother leaving a message if it isn’t pertinent to a case.”
And, sometimes, hearing his voice would be enough for John. Enough to make him smile and laugh, and hang up and go about with his day.
Sometimes, though, he’d have to leave a voicemail. Just a “Hey, Sherlock, I’m not going to be at the flat tonight, just wanted to let you know” or even “Mrs. Hudson said you shot her wall again. I’ll let you take care of it this time.”
And, just once, years after Sherlock’s death, he said,
“I love you.”
Once was enough.
OMG UGLIEST CRYING
John stops blogging. He can’t see the point of it; nothing ever happens to him anymore - he’s just staying alive. But the good days begin to outnumber the bad ones through sheer bloody-minded placidity, and John fills the inbox of Sherlock’s phone with inane little messages and expects nothing back. With: “How many times can I get into a row with the chip and pin machine before they ban me? -JW”, or “Triple murder in the papers today. You’d have loved it. -JW”, or simply “Bloody raining again. -JW” - hundreds of texts about everything and nothing at the same time. And John stops blogging. But he never stops talking about his day.
JFC AS IF THE WOUND ISN’T FRESH ALREADY!
why are you doing this to me
all my brainings are crying mushes now
no why did you type any of that
One day, years later, John Watson left the message “I love you” on Sherlock’s phone, just once. And he didn’t call him again, he didn’t want to think that his words went unheard. One day shortly after the phone went missing, and John searched frantically for it. He turned the house upside down for days, wanting to feel the weight of that phone in his pocket, against his breast. He was about to give up when he saw it again, the text messages checked, voicemail cleared. He was confused, and went through the phone trying to find out what happened. And there was one message in the drafts folder, and after a moment of hesitation he checked it.
I love you too. -SH
He stared for a long moment, confused and feeling his heart beat fast in his chest. A moment later, there was a text, from an unknown number, and he checked it after a shaking moment of hesitation.
Once isn’t enough for me. -SH
And in retrospect, John realized it wasn’t enough for him, either.
Akatora’s death scene.
noooooo ububububu u brave bamf bb
I was browsing through my own dash because of reasons and as I was at this Ju-On post, I HEARD A KAYAKO-LIKE CREAK FROM SOMEWHERE IDK UPSTAIRS NEIGHBOURS MAYBE ASKDJASLDFASHIONFASJFSG
I JUMPED LIKE 5M MJASKFDF HELP OMG freaked out