i hate one direction fans so much
i need my whole room to cool down but no this damn thing only blows one way
I will never get over the inequality that men’s jackets have inside pockets and women’s jackets don’t.
I have nowhere to put my sonic screwdriver.
or my fake fbi badge
Or my pocket magnifying glass
or my wand
or my psychic paper
Or my precious
I lost it at my precious
so did smeageol
Alpacas are so much fucking cuter then llamas.
YOU FORGOT THE FOLLOWING POINTS:
- LLAMAS HAVE BIG ASS TEETH TO RIP OUT YOUR FUCKING THROAT
- ALPACAS HAVE FUZZY LIPS TO NUZZLE YOU GENTLY TO SLEEP
- LLAMAS WILL CHARGE AFTER YOU IF THEY SMELL FOOD AND FEAR
- ALPACAS AMBLE ALONG LIKE THE WORLD IS MADE OF GUMDROPS
- LLAMAS ARE THE FUCKING DEVIL INCARNATE
- ALPACAS ARE NOT THE FUCKING DEVIL INCARNATE
This has been the most informative post I’ve seen on Tumblr.
Yes, they’re cuter. But, look at that fucking llama. He may not be ADORABLEASDFGHJKL, but he is one regal looking motherfucker.
John and Dean need to start a club
the My Not-Boyfriend Thinks He’s Heterosexual Club
My Not-Boyfriend Thinks He’s Heterosexual Club
Merlin can join them.
I love the look of disgust on John’s face. He’s like “Are you serious right now?”
Merlin can join them.
um yeah we’re slash shippers that’s what we do
Merlin can join them.
Merlin: We’re two sides of the same coin! I don’t get why Arthur just… what a dollop-head. Sorry, I’ll just drop the subject. You’d think the King of Camelot would be less oblivious… More wine, John? I hear it’s tough with you after the whole Irene debacle.
John: …If anyone still cares, I’m not gay.
Merlin: Of course you’re not. (indulgent beaming)
John: You don’t believe me, do y- fine. But it is ridiculous how he carries on. Yes, more wine would be lovely, thank you.
Draco: (muttering to himself) Stupid Potter. My father will hear about this.
IT GOT BETTER
So much better…
Dean: *walks in*
John: Dean, late again.
Dean: Sorry, Sam was being a fucking bitch and Cas was… well…. Cas.
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.
I love you so much…^
TEAL, LOOK WHAT I FOUND FOR YOU.
I love this so much. Everyone’s roles fit so perfectly. I wish there was more!
I’m writing a fanfic for a fanfic. Hush.
The commotion from their duel could be heard throughout the halls of Hogwarts, catching the attention of prefect Sally Donovon. The moment she saw what was happening in the practice room, she rushed off to get her Head of House.
Bursting into the Transfiguration room, she interrupted a lecture that Professor Lestrade had been giving the first years regarding the proper technique to transfigure a frog into a candlestick. The younger students stared at her with wide eyes, grateful for a reprieve from the lesson.
“Professor!” She panted. “Professor Holmes and Professor Watson are dueling in the practice room.”
Professor Lestrade shook his head, he really couldn’t be bothered with the antics of other professors, much less when Professor Holmes was involved.
“Not my division.”
this is perfect
it got better!
I really would love to see that crossover, repeatedly, in every possible position. Even if it would end in tears because let’s be real, everything the Winchesters touch ends in tears. Poor little shits.
“Look kid,” Sam says. It’s the third time he’s tried the good cop routine and Dean can hear it wearing thin. “We know you had nothing to do with the murders. But we also know you’re not the only werewolf in town.”
The kid tips his head and sucks on his lips, the total absence of fucks glaringly obvious. Dean is both frustrated as hell and grudgingly impressed because, hell, they’ve dealt with demons less sassy than this.
Sam sighs, and Dean has to cough into his hand to keep from laughing because that particular brand of exasperation is usually reserved for him. “Just be straight with us.”
For some reason, that’s hilarious. It takes a second before Dean remembers the dude they’d seen the kid with before they’d picked him up. Big, serial killer looking guy, sporting leather and a possessive hand on kid-snark’s back. Oh man.
Dean snorts and gives Sam patented ‘what? it’s funny’ shoulders when it earns him a glare.
“Trust me, dude,” the kid says. “I’m being as straight with you as…well, I was gonna say humanly possible but…”
A flash of canines has Sam rolling his eyes and sue him, Dean sorta wants to high-five the kid. You know you’ve been hunting for too long when you start rooting for your mark.
“You’re driving a stolen car,” Sam says. “You’re carrying a fake ID. Every word out of your mouth so far has been bullshit-”
“Says the hunter posing as an FBI agent,” the kid says, tapping a nonchalant beat on his water bottle.
Sam pulls out bitch-face number eleven. “Is anything about you real?”
The kid grins and bobs his head. “My boobs.”
Dean laughs so hard he almost pulls something.
So I walked into the dentist this morning. My dentist asked me how my weekend was. I said “Good, I watched Captain America last night. I really liked it.” And my dentist says “Oh, my son is in that movie.” At first I thought he was joking but then I realized
Dr. Robert Evans
I looked it up
My dentist is Captain America’s dad