John: Knew it was dangerous.
John: Letting you watch “Merlin”.
OMG YES YES YES YES YES
HE HE HE HE HE HE HE HE…
Boss: The cover is coming off of this book.
Me: Oh, that's not good.
Boss: Yeah. I'll have to send it downstairs to be mended.
Me: It's not bad. We might be able to fix that with a little tape.
Boss: Nah. Not our division.
Me: Did you just -
Boss: I -
Me: Was that -
Boss: Wait, do you -
Me: You watch -
Boss: DO YOU WATCH -
Me: OH MY GOD
Boss: OH MY GOD
Boss: You may take your break early today.
Reblog if u crey every time
I’m done with this site
i will never stop reblogging this.
The best gif set of 2012, HANDS DOWN.
“YOU’RE SO MISOGYNIST AND RACIST,” screamed Elementary fandom, waving its latte.
“YOU’RE HOMOPHOBIC AND INACCURATE AND A COPYCAT,” sobbed Sherlock fandom.
“Children, please,” Granada fandom sighed from its wingback armchair. “Settle down and fetch me a drink.”
“WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ASSHOLES” Sir Arthur Conan Doyle yelled from his grave
AU: Sherlock is hired by SHIELD as an interrogator
OH MY GOD. YES. THIS. YES.
30 Day OTP Challenge Day 1: Holding Hands
Over the past 3 months, Sherlock Holmes has gone over his reunion with John approximately eight thousand times in his head. This may or may not be an exaggeration. This number is only slightly more than the many different scenarios he has envisioned for their reunion.
There is the dramatic re-entrance to 221b. John would be sitting in his chair, as he does, either the laptop propped on his knees or else his head buried in the morning paper. He’d have a cup of tea with him, of course, strong, plain. The mug of tea would shatter when John jumps up in his surprise. Inevitable. Sad about the laptop though, would have to be replaced. In the newspaper scenario, pages fly dramatically through the air.
The scene diverges into two further possibilities here: John reacts violently, angrily. Blows are dealt, both of the physical and verbal variety. Sherlock stands and takes it, he deserves it (although there is one scenario in which he pushes John roughly down onto the couch and Sherlock’s mind rather glazes over after that point generally). The other option, of course, is…well. Relief. Joy. Passion. And so on.
Sherlock has cradled that scenario in the corner of his mind on the nights he needed it most—on nights when he struggles to deal with wounds that should logically send him to hospitals he cannot afford, nights when another thread of Moriarty’s web dangles just beyond his grasp. He holds the thought of John embracing him in the middle of 221b close to his heart.
But it’s rubbish, really, the cold, logical parts of his mind tell him. There is little reason for John to be back at 221b at all. It’s been over a year. It would be masochistic of John to stay there. Expensive too.
No, John would have moved out. But Sherlock has other scenarios planned for that as well.
Did I get the plot right
idk why but i’m picturing him on the train going to hogwarts
WHAT IF HE IS A PROFESSOR AT HOGWARTS
Finally, a decent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.
oh god yes
John is the new flying instructor and Quidditch referee, who retired from his professional Quidditch career after some kind of accident
Lestrade is the Transfiguration teacher
Molly is a nurse
Jim teaches Potions
Anderson and Donovan are the annoying as fuck prefects
Mycroft holds a minor position in the Ministry of Magic
Boom. Someone fic this.
It seemed to be some sort of tradition that Hogwarts had to have at least one professor no one could stand. Before, when Harry Potter was around, it was the infamous Professor Snape. After that, there had been an Arithmancy professor named Wiggins who was so unbearable that most students blocked him out of their memories completely. Now there was Holmes.
He wasn’t so bad - at least according to the girls who sighed and fawned over him. And some of the boys. Certainly enough, Holmes was good looking, but that seemed to be a running trend among the staff lately. Professor Lestrade, in Transfiguration, couldn’t go more than an afternoon without a student coming in for extra practice, usually with form. Professor Watson, who doubled as flying instructor and the dueling team’s coach, had more broomstick and wand jokes aimed at him than anyone cared to hear in a lifetime. But he had an easygoing personality that made him easy to joke around with. Even the teensy-bit unbalanced potions master, Professor Moriarty, had a sort of deranged charm to him, and Nurse Molly was sweet and remembered all her patients’ names.
There was no longer a curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, but after the first week with Holmes, most students wished it would come back. He showed up five minutes late for the first lesson and then burst in with a swish of his trailing cloak, mouth going at a thousand miles a minute.
“Wands out, everyone, and you’d better behave responsibly if you’ve been trusted with them for three years. That means no poking, no unauthorized spells, and no being idiots, understand? Most professors like to say there’s no such thing as a stupid question - I disagree; there are a lot of stupid questions, especially if you don’t listen. Take every word I say as gospel and don’t fall asleep or I’ll throw the nearest projectile, and don’t think I’ll pity you if you can’t deflect it in time. There will be no skiving off, because I’ll know if you’re lying, and random pop quizzes through the term. We’ll start with Shield Charms, something even the most inadequate first-years can grasp, shall we?”
Even if he hadn’t talked to them like babies at the end, everyone hated him.
Holmes was never happy with anyone, never smiled, and never gave praise, even if a student did something truly brilliant and inspired with his lessons. The closest he would get at complimenting someone was to lean back in his chair, feet on the desk, and say, “You could have done worse, I suppose. At least you didn’t kill me.” He only ever looked interested when a student lipped off in class or Professor Lestrade showed up for a word.
That was another funny thing about Professor Holmes. He liked mysteries, but not in the way that most people liked mysteries. He solved them, even mundane ones like missing magical creatures that escaped into the forest, or students who cheated on their exams. Professor Lestrade seemed to have a lot of trouble with cheaters, and Holmes always found them, which only made the student body resent him even further.
His pursuits brought him to dueling club practice one day, where for the first time he met Professor Watson. The moment he entered the practice room a hush fell over the students, causing Watson to look up in alarm; they all knew that one of their number was going to get in big trouble.
“So, the best technique would be to - guys?” asked Watson, turning to see Holmes in the door. His eyebrows rose. “Oh, Professor Holmes, what a pleasant surprise. Are you here for a lesson?”
There were scattered giggles around the room as Holmes scowled. By then it was common knowledge that, though he was a genius in almost every other respect, Holmes was a terrible duelist. “Actually, I was going to correct your form,” he retorted.
Hushed “Ooooh”s spread across the room. Watson smirked slightly. “Really? And what’s wrong with it?”
“It’s - ah - crooked.”
More giggles. “Perhaps it could be more improved if you didn’t have a psychosomatic limp.”
“You heard me loud and clear. Your limp is psychosomatic. It’s all in your head.”
“And what does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, really. But I bet you ten Galleons I can fix it.”
Watson dodged immediately away and shot back a spell of his own. They weren’t even on the dueling tarmac, and students had to quickly back away against the walls as the fight very quickly got messy. Holmes either didn’t know the rules of dueling or disregarded them completely, amplifying his voice and shrieking or shooting off blinding sparks to disorient Watson before shooting a curse. Though even then Professor Watson managed to keep the fight even.
With an almost lazy flick of his wand the spells momentarily stopped flying, and Watson snapped, “This isn’t exactly a fair fight, Professor.”
The taller man grinned. “Oh, come on, Professor, even your Muggle sister could do better after indulging her alcoholism.”
Watson dropped his wand and charged at him. For a moment Holmes’ eyes widened with pure panic before immobilizing Watson with a leg-locker jinx. He knelt at his colleague’s side, handing back his wand. “I told you it was in your head,” he smirked before getting up again to point at Miranda Hodgins. “You. With me to the Headmaster’s office, now.”
He swept out, with Miranda timidly following and the remaining students in awe. Watson reversed the jinx and gaped after Holmes while absently stretching his leg. Holmes was right; he hadn’t limped at all during the fight.
Most students thought the professors would hate one another on principle after that incident, and were taken by surprise when the pair were practically inseparable from that moment on.
Many thanks to L.H. for sending me the scan.
Benedict is such a lovely troll. You should read this.
Title: Sherlock Layton 2
The Sherlock Fan Orchestra present their debut piece: The Main Theme from Sherlock
Over 70 submissions from musicians all over the world have been received over two months in preparation for the release of this piece.
Holy Sweet Mother of Melted Panties.
if that’s not an eye fuck then i don’t know what anything is anymore
Excuse me while I stare at this gif forever