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sherlockedwithasonic: tardismyoldgirl: tennants-hair: tardis-mind-palace: doctor-john-with-trenchcoat: bakerstreetbabes: Always reblog the no-look pass. Could he just make an entrance like in the first gif every time he enters a room? He looks so cool when he does that. No, but what if every time John walked into a room that Sherlock was in, he would just throw something to Sherlock, whatever had to do with the case, or just a pen, and Sherlock would use it, because John could tell what he wanted each time. Pen, shoe, scarf, phone, tea mug, anything. Then, the day after Reichenbach, out of habit, John walked into the flat, and instinctively picked up and pen and threw it. He only remembered Sherlock wasn’t there when he heard the pen clatter to the ground. nice to meet you satan Three years have gone by and finally John has lost the habit of throwing things to a man who is no longer there. He’s broken at least 8 mugs since Sherlock’s dea- no. He still cannot think the word. As long as he refuses to believe Sherlock is gone, he will still be there. One night after a particularly long day consisting of far too many meetings John walks home to 221B. He imagines Sherlock’s eye-rolling, and scoffing reactions to Anderson’s many idiotic theories about their latest killer, and smiles to himself. He unlocks the door, enters, and throws his jacket over the nearest chair. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sherlock’s old mobile, and for a moment forgets everything that happened. He wraps his hand around the device, and tosses it behind him, silently cursing himself for probably breaking one of the last pieces of Sherlock in his possession, as he waits for the inevitable clatter of plastic on wood. But there is no sound. “Hello, John.” YOU MADE IT BETTER YOU SOOTHED THE WOUND
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sherlockedwithasonic: tardismyoldgirl: tennants-hair: tardis-mind-palace: doctor-john-with-trenchcoat: bakerstreetbabes: Always reblog the no-look pass. Could he just make an entrance like in the first gif every time he enters a room? He looks so cool when he does that. No, but what if every time John walked into a room that Sherlock was in, he would just throw something to Sherlock, whatever had to do with the case, or just a pen, and Sherlock would use it, because John could tell what he wanted each time. Pen, shoe, scarf, phone, tea mug, anything. Then, the day after Reichenbach, out of habit, John walked into the flat, and instinctively picked up and pen and threw it. He only remembered Sherlock wasn’t there when he heard the pen clatter to the ground. nice to meet you satan Three years have gone by and finally John has lost the habit of throwing things to a man who is no longer there. He’s broken at least 8 mugs since Sherlock’s dea- no. He still cannot think the word. As long as he refuses to believe Sherlock is gone, he will still be there. One night after a particularly long day consisting of far too many meetings John walks home to 221B. He imagines Sherlock’s eye-rolling, and scoffing reactions to Anderson’s many idiotic theories about their latest killer, and smiles to himself. He unlocks the door, enters, and throws his jacket over the nearest chair. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sherlock’s old mobile, and for a moment forgets everything that happened. He wraps his hand around the device, and tosses it behind him, silently cursing himself for probably breaking one of the last pieces of Sherlock in his possession, as he waits for the inevitable clatter of plastic on wood. But there is no sound. “Hello, John.” YOU MADE IT BETTER YOU SOOTHED THE WOUND
Zoom
sherlockedwithasonic: tardismyoldgirl: tennants-hair: tardis-mind-palace: doctor-john-with-trenchcoat: bakerstreetbabes: Always reblog the no-look pass. Could he just make an entrance like in the first gif every time he enters a room? He looks so cool when he does that. No, but what if every time John walked into a room that Sherlock was in, he would just throw something to Sherlock, whatever had to do with the case, or just a pen, and Sherlock would use it, because John could tell what he wanted each time. Pen, shoe, scarf, phone, tea mug, anything. Then, the day after Reichenbach, out of habit, John walked into the flat, and instinctively picked up and pen and threw it. He only remembered Sherlock wasn’t there when he heard the pen clatter to the ground. nice to meet you satan Three years have gone by and finally John has lost the habit of throwing things to a man who is no longer there. He’s broken at least 8 mugs since Sherlock’s dea- no. He still cannot think the word. As long as he refuses to believe Sherlock is gone, he will still be there. One night after a particularly long day consisting of far too many meetings John walks home to 221B. He imagines Sherlock’s eye-rolling, and scoffing reactions to Anderson’s many idiotic theories about their latest killer, and smiles to himself. He unlocks the door, enters, and throws his jacket over the nearest chair. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sherlock’s old mobile, and for a moment forgets everything that happened. He wraps his hand around the device, and tosses it behind him, silently cursing himself for probably breaking one of the last pieces of Sherlock in his possession, as he waits for the inevitable clatter of plastic on wood. But there is no sound. “Hello, John.” YOU MADE IT BETTER YOU SOOTHED THE WOUND
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sherlockedwithasonic:

tardismyoldgirl:

tennants-hair:

tardis-mind-palace:

doctor-john-with-trenchcoat:

bakerstreetbabes:

Always reblog the no-look pass.

Could he just make an entrance like in the first gif every time he enters a room? He looks so cool when he does that.

No, but what if every time John walked into a room that Sherlock was in, he would just throw something to Sherlock, whatever had to do with the case, or just a pen, and Sherlock would use it, because John could tell what he wanted each time. Pen, shoe, scarf, phone, tea mug, anything.

Then, the day after Reichenbach, out of habit, John walked into the flat, and instinctively picked up and pen and threw it. He only remembered Sherlock wasn’t there when he heard the pen clatter to the ground.

nice to meet you satan

Three years have gone by and finally John has lost the habit of throwing things to a man who is no longer there. He’s broken at least 8 mugs since Sherlock’s dea- no. He still cannot think the word. As long as he refuses to believe Sherlock is gone, he will still be there.

One night after a particularly long day consisting of far too many meetings John walks home to 221B. He imagines Sherlock’s eye-rolling, and scoffing reactions to Anderson’s many idiotic theories about their latest killer, and smiles to himself. He unlocks the door, enters, and throws his jacket over the nearest chair. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sherlock’s old mobile, and for a moment forgets everything that happened. He wraps his hand around the device, and tosses it behind him, silently cursing himself for probably breaking one of the last pieces of Sherlock in his possession, as he waits for the inevitable clatter of plastic on wood. But there is no sound.

“Hello, John.”

YOU MADE IT BETTER

YOU SOOTHED THE WOUND

(Source: ughbenedict)

nodisc3:

kindofspooky:

strider69:

megumiovvo:

perfectangelfighter:

iamtonysexual:

spazztastikim:

iamtonysexual:

so this happened

and this was my face the whole time…

image

They actually read all that. OUT LOUD.

I am the champion of talking

excepted

that face

holy christ on a cracker

image

not just headcanon kankri voice but holy shit how did you learn to talk like that??

dead.

I WAS LISTENING TO THIS WHILE SCROLLING MY DASH IN ANOTHER TAB AND I FOUND THIS FUCKIN GIF

masterkfox:

fullmetal-dipshit:

the-nicest-asshole:

UK grading system
75-100 A+
70-74 A
64-69 A-
60-63 B+
55-59 B
50-54 B-
46-49 C+
43-45 C
38-42 C-
35-37 D
0-34

Time to move to the UK

Dude I would kill for that grading scale

Hah hah oh man I remember I got one of my first assignments back during my study abroad and I got a 56 and I was like D8 until I realized that was pretty okay.

They just leave you a ton of room to encourage over achievement.

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