UK
Sherlock. Doctor Who. The Avengers.
Hunger Games. Supernatural.
Harry Potter. Merlin. Glee.
DFTBA!
The Rachel to my Santana.
The Quinn to my Santana.
The Blaine to my Santana.
So, in the wake of reading this terrifying shit, Postcard and I started chatting, as you do, about the zombie apocalypse. Here are some things Postcard and I enjoy: zombie media, common sense, and YELLING ABOUT STUFF. Thus, for your reading pleasure, please enjoy our simple twenty-step guide to NOT DYING in the unlikely event that a zombie apocalypse ravages humanity:
- IN THE EVENT OF AN ACTUAL APOCALYPTIC SITUATION, ASSUME THAT THE FOLLOWING THINGS ARE GOING TO STOP WORKING: running water (this includes toilets); anything that relies on electricity (this includes gas pumps); anything that relies on natural gas lines (this includes gas stoves/central heat); basically, anything that relies on there being a factory of some variety at the other end of thing you want to make do stuff. THAT’S ALL GONNA BREAK. THIS INCLUDES THE INTERNET. Thus, the most important thing to do in the event of a zombie apocalypse is:
- RESEARCH. For as long as you possess the internet, do everything you can to learn as much as possible. Research edible/medicinal plants (or seriously, go into a bookstore and loot your shit a guidebook, they’re not large, they sell little tiny ones, you can put it in your pocket, WHY DOES EVERYONE IN EVERY ZOMBIE MOVIE NOT DO THIS). Research, from available information, how the zombies work/which of their senses are functional—for example, if they operate largely by smell, you want to work on smelling not alive. If they operate largely by sight, DON’T LIGHT FIRES AT NIGHT. And speaking of fires…
Amanda Abbington, on watching Reichenbach Falls with Martin Freeman.
(via voldemortcrazed)
Was he married?
#it just really gets to me how tony will go out of his way to hide his kindness #he offers the most extravagant things like it’s nbd #”i’ll fly you to portland pfft whatevs” #he jokes that phil’s first name is ”agent” and yet #he knows about the cellist #and wants phil to have a love life #and offers to fly him wherever so he can have it #and then pretends he’s not sure when steve asks him #because god forbid anyone finds out that tony stark gives a shit
((I think my soul just died.))
NEW - Elementary - 4 min Exclusive Preview uploaded for people who live outside the U.S & are blocked from watching it on youtube…here ya go!
“Lestrade, show me the body.”
“Sherlock What the hell.”
John’s little and gets tired easily.
so cute
And I’m just going to sit here and wait for the ficlet…..
(Well, here goes…)
There had been something new amiss at Baskerville, and Sherlock had been called back in to investigate. One of the employees had been stealing an experimental anti-aging drug and selling it to other countries overseas.
Unfortunately, in the process of apprehending the thief and recovering the drug, John was injected with a large dose of it and woke up the next morning having retrograded to the physical age of about five years old.
He’d been rather distraught, naturally—even moreso when Sherlock insisted on taking a case instead of getting right to finding a cure for John’s condition—but in the end Sherlock convinced him to tag along, promising that he’d come up with some sort of excuse for having a child with him.
On the way, John fell asleep, his tiny head resting against the door of the cab. Sherlock shook him awake when they arrived.
“John. We’re here.”
“Go ‘way,” he grumbled, curling closer to the door.
“I need your assistance with this body, John. Get up,” said Sherlock, more sharply this time.
“Piss off.” The cabbie looked back and glared accusingly at Sherlock at that.
Sherlock grit his teeth. “Get up right now or I shall carry you out myself.”
“Fine!” The boy-shaped man crossed his arms stubbornly, eyes still closed. Without another word, Sherlock opened the door and marched around the cab to the other side, pulling John’s door open and wrestling him out of his seat. John struggled for a few moments before glaring and shutting his eyes again, his head falling against Sherlock’s shoulder. Sighing, the consulting detective adjusted his grip and carried the sleeping child into the crime scene. Several members of the Yard’s finest gawked as the he walked past, but he ignored them and approached the Detective Inspector.
“Lestrade,” he said in greeting. “Show me the body.”
Lestrade looked at him, then to the boy, then back to him. “Sherlock. What the hell?”
I hope you don’t mind if I continue this…?
.
Lestrade glanced around awkwardly as the mothers on the team glared at him. “Well he has just brought a—”
“It’s John,” Sherlock muttered as he shifted him from one side to the next. John yawned sleepily, eyes falling shut as his face pressed against Sherlock’s coat and arms went around Sherlock’s neck.
“Sher,” he murmured sleepily, and Sherlock hushed him with a gentle hand rubbing his back. “Sher.”
Lestrade watched, amazed, as John breathed in deeply, fisting his hands in the coat. ”He’s…”
“A child, yes,” Sherlock sounded bored, though a small smile appeared on his face as John’s breathing evened out. “There is no reason to panic.”
“No reason to panic? How long is he going to be like that?” John shifted in Sherlock’s arms, opening one eye grumpily.
“As long as it takes us to find out what’s going on around here, Anderson.” Sherlock raised an eyebrow, starting to walk past them. “And as easy as that would generally be for me, your constant nattering about the most obvious things is hardly helping. Did something happen to you as a child? Did your mother drop you on your head and make common practice of you pointing out things everybody already knew to preserve your brain, because if that was her aim, she did not—”
John sighed on his shoulder, suddenly pressing a small kiss to his cheek and giggling madly. Sherlock paused, eyes wide as John hugged him and continued to rest silently. Lestrade snorted, opening the door and disappearing through it. “Cute, John, but we are talking about Sherlock, here.”
Sherlock stood still, staring at John for a few more seconds before brushing sandy hair out of blue eyes and pressing a small, awkward kiss to his tiny cheek.
Rolling his eyes, he walked quickly to the door, mind already three steps ahead.
I need more, I loved it <3
Oh my god this is so freaking cute!!
ANON requested: ’Speaking of RDJxHimself… Sherlock Holmes & Tony Stark? :D’
“Are you reading us The Little Red Riding Hood again, mother?”
“Thor is scared of the Big Bad Wolf.”
“I am not!”
“Now, now, boys. When you are feeling afraid or sad, remember that you have your brother beside you. Brothers protect each other.”
“Even if he’s really annoying?”
“I am not!”
“Especially when he annoys you. Or when he turns you away, when he is cruel or even when he hurts you; never forget that you are brothers, and protect him.”
Enough! You are all of you beneath me! I am a God, you dull creature, and I will not be bullied by…
wow you get the full effect of the whimper on this one … nice
In between the smashing you hear him like go uh uh too
i know you’re supposed to laugh but awwwwww bb
Remember when everyone in the theater laughed, but we just sat there like but don’t you guys hear loki. guys don’t you hear him. HE’S NOT THE EVIL ONE, YOU ARE HIS WHIMPERRRRS.
There was always such a huge laugh at that whenever I went that I never really heard the whimper before and MY GOD IT’S GLORIOUS.
