Okay, everything else awesome about Scandal in Belgravia aside (which is actually everything)
Is anyone else imagining John and Sherlock playing a game of Cluedo that gets so heated Sherlock stabs the fucking board to the wall.

I giggled at the milk. 

“It was the dagger on the Cluedo board in the living room!”

This clearly happened because, somehow, John beat Sherlock at Cluedo.

Sorry guys i accidently a board game crack ficlet.
7:10Sherlock fails to grasp the concept of Cluedo. 7:18Sherlock still fails to grasp the concept of Cluedo. 7:23“Where’s the logic? How can i deduce the motives of plastic pieces?”7:26 There is a mad rush for the best Cluedo characters. In the end, John claims Colonel Mustard, Sherlock is Professor Plum, Mycroft has Reverend Green. Greg is left with Miss Peacock. 7:27Greg sulks. John tries not to laugh. 7:28 Sherlock asks if he can take Reverend Green in for interrogation. John explains that’s not how the game works. 
7:28John sees Lestrade’s cards reflected in the mirror behind him. He now knows it was the lead pipe. 
7:29Sherlock asks for all the other characters cooperation in recreating the scene of the crime. John explains that’s not how the game works.  7:32Sherlock wants to know if the victim is related to any of the suspects. John explains that’s not how the game works. 
7:33Mycroft can see through John’s paper due to the lamp behind him. He now knows it was the lead pipe in the kitchen.    7:34Lestrade can only seem to roll the numbers one or two and so never actually manages to get into any room. He sulks. 7:35Sherlock is choosing which room to enter, John gets out Miss Scarlet and has Colonel Mustard chat her up. 7:35Sherlock sees Miss Scarlet and Colonel Mustard getting a bit too friendly in the billiard room and decides to investigate.7:36Reverend Green gets restless whilst waiting for his turn and starts dancing with Mrs White in the ballroom. 7:37Sherlock thinks Mrs White has an uncanny resemblance to Mrs Hudson. 7:37 Mycroft chooses to say nothing. He is a little frightened that anything said against Mrs Hudson would result in him taking several trips out the window.  7:40John sees Mycroft flinch and forces back a smile. He agrees that yes, she does have an uncanny resemblance to Mrs White. 7:38The game has turned into a soap opera. Colonel Mustard is having an affair with Miss Scarlet who is engaged to Reverend Green. Professor Plum knocks over Miss White in a fit of rage and Miss Peacock seems to still be wandering around the corridors aimlessly.7:45John reveals the cards and wins the game, the truth is that it was Professor Plum in the kitchen with the lead pipe. Everyone looks at Sherlock with mock how could you expressions that soon crumble when he gasps “that cannot be right!” and looks for all the world as if he has just been framed for a real murder.7:46Sherlock refuses to accept that he was the murderer without knowing he was the murderer. 7:46Lestrade tells Sherlock it is just a game and he won’t be taken into police custody. 7:46Sherlock gives Lestrade the evils of a lifetime. 
 Sherlock throws Professor Plum like a toddler throwing a tantrum. John will find it a week later on top of the bookshelf. 
 7:47John proposes they play Monopoly.Sherlock proposes they burn Cluedo in the fiery depths of hell. 
 In the end, Sherlock stabs the Cluedo board to the wall in a fit of rage and John wonders, not for the first time, if the consulting detective is actually five years old.

Headcanon accepted.

Approved, thrice over. 
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“Sherlock” - Poster Illustration by Sam Spratt
Archival art prints Available >HERE<
If you haven’t seen the amazing show yet, the first season’s on netflix instant—if you have, I’m sure a lot of the details will be very familiar to you.
Follow my: portfolio website,  tumblr,  facebook artist’s page and twitter.

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theimprobableone DISCOVERED!

By artfulingenue on Monday, February 27th, 2012


theimprobableone rejects capital letters


theimprobableone is ee cummings

(via gayeverdeen-deactivated20120603)

Best, ever.

(via s-s-s-sherlock)




Forget me. Just let me fade away…

Whoever made this… I hope you stub your toe, and it hurts.

i remember someone making a post about how Sherlock was just a figment of John’s imagination, a way to help him cope, and this? THIS SHIT is what that would be like.

i can’t…

(Source: jamandfezzes, via s-s-s-sherlock)




I have waited so long for this fucking soundtrack my god I’m so happy right now


(Source: dramatisecho, via thepowerofstories)








(via s-s-s-sherlock)

Police: “Tumblr, you’re under arrest.”

By artfulingenue on Thursday, February 23rd, 2012










XMFC fandom:

Supernatural fandom:


Suck it, SOPA.

(via girlwhosouffles)



Saw this picture on imgur and just had to post it here, because this is without a doubt, one of the most badass women alive. Meet Katrina Hodge, a corporal in the British Army and Miss England 2009. According to Wikipedia, she enlisted back in 2004 after her brother challenged her to and earned the nickname “Combat Barbie” after showing up at her assigned unit wearing false eyelashes, kitten heels (whatever those are) and carry a pink suitcase. In 2005 her unit, the Royal Anglian Regiment, was deployed to Iraq, where she saved the lives of her comrades from a prisoner by wrestling not one, but two rifles from him and then knocking his ass out with her bare hands.
With her bare hands.
Then in 2009, she decided to compete in the Miss England competition to destroy stereotypes about women in the military. She didn’t win (she placed runner-up), but still became Miss England after the woman who did got into a fight and gave up the crown. While Miss England, Hodge convinced the people running the competition to ditch the bikini contest, because she felt that it was more important to be a role model than looking good in a bikini.
In 2010, she handed over the crown and returned to military service, being deployed to Afghanistan.
This woman is both a BAMF and a HBIC. Damn.

Fuck yeah.

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ahahaha such a troll

Love love love.

(Source: salviaplaths, via thepowerofstories)


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By artfulingenue on Tuesday, January 17th, 2012



(Source: girlwhosouffles)

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Plato: For the greater good.

Karl Marx: It was a historical inevitability.

Machiavelli: So that its subjects will view it with admiration, as a chicken which has the daring and courage to boldly cross the road, but also with fear, for whom among them has the strength to contend with such a paragon of avian virtue? In such a manner is the princely chicken's dominion maintained.

Hippocrates: Because of an excess of light pink gooey stuff in its pancreas.

Jacques Derrida: Any number of contending discourses may be discovered within the act of the chicken crossing the road, and each interpretation is equally valid as the authorial intent can never be discerned, because structuralism is DEAD, DAMMIT, DEAD!

Thomas de Torquemada: Give me ten minutes with the chicken and I'll find out.

Timothy Leary: Because that's the only kind of trip the Establishment would let it take.

Douglas Adams: Forty-two.

Nietzsche: Because if you gaze too long across the Road, the Road gazes also across you.

Oliver North: National Security was at stake.

B.F. Skinner: Because the external influences which had pervaded its sensorium from birth had caused it to develop in such a fashion that it would tend to cross roads, even while believing these actions to be of its own free will.

Carl Jung: The confluence of events in the cultural gestalt necessitated that individual chickens cross roads at this historical juncture, and therefore synchronicitously brought such occurrences into being.

Jean-Paul Sartre: In order to act in good faith and be true to itself, the chicken found it necessary to cross the road.

Ludwig Wittgenstein: The possibility of "crossing" was encoded into the objects "chicken" and "road", and circumstances came into being which caused the actualization of this potential occurrence.

Albert Einstein: Whether the chicken crossed the road or the road crossed the chicken depends upon your frame of reference.

Aristotle: To actualize its potential.

Buddha: If you ask this question, you deny your own chicken-nature.

Howard Cosell: It may very well have been one of the most astonishing events to grace the annals of history. An historic, unprecedented avian biped with the temerity to attempt such an herculean achievement formerly relegated to homo sapien pedestrians is truly a remarkable occurence.

Salvador Dali: The Fish.

Darwin: It was the logical next step after coming down from the trees.

Emily Dickinson: Because it could not stop for death.

Epicurus: For fun.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: It didn't cross the road; it transcended it.

Johann von Goethe: The eternal hen-principle made it do it.

Ernest Hemingway: To die. In the rain.

Werner Heisenberg: We are not sure which side of the road the chicken was on, but it was moving very fast.

David Hume: Out of custom and habit.

Jack Nicholson: 'Cause it [censored] wanted to. That's the [censored] reason.

Pyrrho the Skeptic: What road?

Ronald Reagan: I forget.

John Sununu: The Air Force was only too happy to provide the transportation, so quite understandably the chicken availed himself of the opportunity.

The Sphinx: You tell me.

Mr. T.: If you saw me coming you'd cross the road too!

Henry David Thoreau: To live deliberately ... and suck all the marrow out of life.

Mark Twain: The news of its crossing has been greatly exaggerated.

Molly Yard: It was a hen!

Zeno of Elea: To prove it could never reach the other side.

Chaucer: So priketh hem nature in hir corages.

Wordsworth: To wander lonely as a cloud.

The Godfather: I didn't want its mother to see it like that.

Keats: Philosophy will clip a chicken's wings.

Blake: To see heaven in a wild fowl.

Othello: Jealousy.

Dr. Johnson: Sir, had you known the Chicken for as long as I have, you would not so readily enquire, but feel rather the Need to resist such a public Display of your own lamentable and incorrigible Ignorance.

Mrs. Thatcher: This chicken's not for turning.

Supreme Soviet: There has never been a chicken in this photograph.

Oscar Wilde: Why, indeed? One's social engagements whilst in town ought never expose one to such barbarous inconvenience - although, perhaps, if one must cross a road, one may do far worse than to cross it as the chicken in question.

Kafka: Hardly the most urgent enquiry to make of a low-grade insurance clerk who woke up that morning as a hen.

Swift: It is, of course, inevitable that such a loathsome, filth-ridden and degraded creature as Man should assume to question the actions of one in all respects his superior.

Macbeth: To have turned back were as tedious as to go o'er.

Whitehead: Clearly, having fallen victim to the fallacy of misplaced concreteness.

Freud: An die andere Seite zu kommen. (Much laughter.)

Hamlet: That is not the question.

Donne: It crosseth for thee.

Pope: It was mimicking my Lord Hervey.

Constable: To get a better view.

Yeats: She was following the Faeries that sang to her to come away with them from the dull, bucolic comfort of the farmyard to the waters and the wild.

Shelley: 'Tis a metaphor for the pursuits of man: though 'twas deemed an extraordinary occurrence at the time, still it brought little to bear on the great scheme of time and history, and was ultimately fruitless and forgotten.

Tolkien: Chickens are respectable folk, and well thought of. They never go on any adventures or do anything unexpected. One fine spring day, as the chicken wandered contentedly around the farmyard, clucking and pecking and enjoying herself immensely, there appeared a Wizard and thirteen Dwarves who were in need of a chicken to share in their adventure. Reluctantly she joined their party, and with them crossed the road into the great Unknown, muttering about how rude the Dwarves were to take her away on such short notice, without even giving her time to brush her feathers or fetch her hat.


Does anybody else hear a bump when it lands?