Why do you feel the need to communicate by standing outside the building and shouting up at a person, 4 stories above you, in the hopes that he will hear you through the window?
In fairness, he did, but I’d rather not here your shouted conversation about whether you should go to the pub later.
If you’re ever sad remember that Sam Winchester decorated his tree with air fresheners.
AsylumWaiting Room of the Big Three.
it’s funny because it looks like the sherlock fandom are sane here
Sherlock bustled about the kitchen, throwing a cupboard door open and pushing aside a box of nicotine patches to retrieve two mismatched mugs. A kettle whistled plaintively in the background, like it had been trying to draw attention to itself for a while now. Setting the mugs aside, Sherlock absently pulled the kettle off the stove, poured tea into the two mugs, and carried them into the living room.
Doctor Who was sprawled over the same chair it had collapsed into last night, when it had appeared at the door muttering inanely about lost regenerations and knackered navigations systems. It made a whining noise as Sherlock tucked the shock blanket it had thrown off in the night back around its shoulders.
Supernatural was in similar straits, curled up on the floor with a throw pillow and a tattered trench coat around its shoulders and alternating between sobbing and muttering about domesticity potential.
A thudding on the stairs indicated the ruckus had finally awoke Merlin, who poked its head into the room, hair sticking up at all angels as it tied its scarf around its neck. Blinking blearily at the mess, it seemed to realize what had occurred when it picked up a discarded bow-tie from the floor, holding it between forefinger and thumb, “Is it that time already?”
“It was bad this year,” Sherlock whispered, trying not to exacerbate the already fragile fandoms under its care.
“I remember what that was like,” Merlin muttered, running a hand through its hair and pulling a cape off the nearby coat rack, “I’ll go to the store. We’re out of milk again. May as well pick up some fish fingers, custard, and salt.”
Supernatural gurgled something quietly.
“No, I won’t forget the pie.”
I just don’t understand why this campus is so fucking noisy. Between the hours of about six and 10 all I could here was an incessant alarm going off, and then some guys decided to take a break from the revision they were probably not doing and run up and down the corridor shouting about ducks, and then I heard all the people smoking outside talking and this morning has been a flurry of reversing lorries with that bleeping sound it makes to warn you. And then, every 15 minutes to can here the fucking clock tower go off. Who needs to be warned of the time every fucking 15 minutes?
Yeah that’s right you take your perfect smile and go.
*trips over my low self esteem*