mightymissjane asked:

Mormor 40 please? I enjoyed the prison thing very very much

I'll burn that bridge when I get to it Answer:


Dear Jim,

I’m bored as tits and this goddamn fucking investment banker won’t move his bloody ass two fucking inches to the left so I can make his brain into wallpaper. My ass itches and my arm is asleep and if I have toes at all they’re not fucking talking to me. Who the hell schedules a fucking job on a fucking roof in goddamn fucking Moscow in January?

 Do you remember that time in Rome when you brought the switchblade to bed? You put it to my throat and rode me. Each time I pushed up into you the blade pressed down in me, and your hands were slipping in my blood, and you couldn’t stop cutting. I thought when I came you might kill me.

I’ve never felt so alive.

Should have told you more often that you could take it out on me.

Oh, I think he’s moving, hold on –

No, false alarm.

You’re a fucking prick, Jim, have I mentioned? You’re a fucking prick.


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mormor letters writing fanfiction ohh seb you poor poor man why is jum such a fucking shit? he deserves to wait for a day



queenofthemindpalace reblogged your post and added:

if we need to hold a…

I’m sorry… (∩︵∩)

But why does everyone wants to be friend with me? 


Just… I’m sorry for being so weird.

F is for furiously loves on you

U is for u are gonna be okay

N is for no need to be alone

down here with your american buddy~



i think i will go to bed now after you put all the blankets and stuffed animals on me that's a good reason to go to bed plus school and all i am sorry for being so shitty really you are so fucking nice :((




talk to me about amputee!Sebastian Moran

James never made fun of him, and that was something Sebastian always appreciated. In arguments where slurs and anger were prevalent, the insults never jabbed deep enough to even near the topic of the tiger’s missing leg.

Except once. When Sherlock Holmes was a hot topic between the two men prior to bed, James had pulled on his pyjama trousers and scoffed, “You act jealous or something, Sebastian. You need to shake that, truly.”

Sebastian, standing by the other side of the bed, sank down to sit to pull his own trousers off, preparing for a restful night’s sleep. “All I’m saying,” he started with a low growl of a voice, “is that I don’t like how you’re obsessing over this fucker. Every time I turn around you’re either looking at photos of him, texting him… It’s disgusting.”

"Disgusting?" Jim had snorted, deliberately rolling his eyes and shaking his head, "You’re just angry because I’ve taken up interest with someone else. Don’t worry, tiger," Jim comforted, "he won’t replace you."

"I don’t care what he will or won’t replace," Sebastian said, glancing over his shoulder, "All I care about is that you don’t get too involved with this. Besides, what does he have that I don’t?"

And Jim, precious James Moriarty, with his whip-like tongue and too-quick wit, snorted, “Legs.”

The silence fell thick as London fog and heavy as a ton of bricks.

"I see," Sebastian said.
"I didn’t mean -" Jim started.
"Yes, you did," Moran interrupted. He tucked his head down and tried not to look too hurt, as he pulled off his prosthetic leg and tugged on his trousers, trying his best not to stare at his stump.

"Sebastian…" James started, but Jim was never one for apology. Instead, the criminal slowly slid onto the bed, and crawled across it, until he was right behind the tiger. James draped his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders, and hugged him from behind. Burrowing his face against the tiger’s neck, Jim breathed out an honest, "I love you."

It was the first time he’d ever said it, and Sebastian suddenly felt less shameful of himself as a warmth swelled in his chest, spreading to the very tips of his fingers. He raised a hand up and cupped it over one of Jim’s, and simply smiled, nodding once. All was forgiven.

mormor amputee!seb eyyyy i like it

queenofthemindpalace replied to your photo “queenofthemindpalace Thanks for being so damn smooth. But still. /I…”

Okay but that anon was not me. I’m simply agreeing that you’re one of my fav potatoes. 💜 Also I reread was I was typing to you when I was drunk and just….HOW DID YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND ME?!?!??


I’m used to drunk texting, I am the one who receives them all the time. Plus it’s a bit abstract thinking and guessing. Like a quiz with missing words and letters, you know?

And It wasn’t that bad just a bit more confusing but that’s fine.

queenofthemindpalace i had fun





jessjessbc is the CUTEST OF POTATOES this is not up for debate sorry she just is


Monika NO.




But… Look I am not the perso who I seem to be. 

I am shit, I am selfish, I am broken, I have no value whatsoever and I certainly don’t deserve anything remotely close to friendship.

Just so you know, there is nothing which you’d love if you knew me IRL… You would avoid me.

and you don't make vodka from rotten potatoes at least not good one