Welcome to my lair. Make yourself useful. Pull up your own chair. When you get tea, bring me some as well (1 sugar with milk if you don't mind). *ahem* Feel free to look around - I just hope you don't scare too easily. And be aware that you'll have to deal with many, MANY fandoms, and lots of random crap. Some basic facts you should probably know... I am a Sherlockian. I am a Whovian. I ship Sherlolly. Benedict Cumberbatch - just in general. I hate my layout and can't seem to make it better. We're out of milk. Angels Have the Phonebox
THE FINAL FRONTIER
THESE ARE THE VOYAGES OF THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE
ITS FIVE YEAR MISSION
TO EXPLORE STRANGE NEW WORLDS
TO SEEK OUT NEW LIFE AND NEW CIVILIZATIONS
TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO ONE HAS GONE BEFORE
[AGGRESSIVELY HUMS THEME TUNE]
you know that unexplainable sickish feeling where youre not really sick and you dont really have a headache but you just feel wrong and you cant get comfortable or find something that youre really into but you kinda feel too ill to sleep or eat its like your body saying “i dont know what i want you to do but this isnt it”
That’s called anxiety.
That explains at least half of my life then
I don’t think I’m ever going to stop being angry at Voldemort’s death in the movie
He was mEANT TO DIE AS NO MORE THAN A MAN IN THE END. IT WAS IMPORTANT.
How the fuck does
“Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snake-like face vacant and unknowing.”
FINALLY SOMEONE GETS IT