poison case

Another humans are weird/space orcs idea that came to me while trying to drink water upside down:

Humans are apex predators. We’re unbreakable and relentless and legion and lethal. Nothing gets to us- except us.

It’s the stupidest little things that can stop up a human.

Many aliens have theorized about this. Perhaps with no natural enemies, the species tried to threaten them with themselves in a desperate search for some kind of challenge. Maybe it’s cosmic karma for being nigh unstoppable. Maybe they had transcended so much that the nuances of life were tiny and incomprehensible to them. Maybe it’s natural selection trying to thin the herd.

Whichever the cause, it’s a strange combination of disturbing and amusing to see a human be defeated by itself. It’s a little alarming to see the most resilient and powerful species in the universe be completely shut down with things that pale in comparison to their normal challenges.

Seeing a human function almost completely fully with several broken bones… but absolutely crippled and reduced to using one arm when faced with a large hangnail.

My dad broke his leg in a snowmobile accident in such a way that the bone was sticking out of his leg. He crawled a half mile in the snow to the nearest house to ask for help. But when he stubs his toe on the coffee table every few weeks, it’ll bring him to his knees.

I recently got a double conch piercing done- two massive needles shoved through the thickest cartilage in my ear, one right after the other. I’ve got 5 other piercings. None, not even the conch, hurt as much as getting a single hair yanked out of my head.

I see people eat some of the world’s hottest foods all laced with capsaicin which can kill things, and drink alcohol that’s literally poisonous, and break pen cases with their teeth. But a too cold slush drink? Unable to talk or move, head between the knees, for about two minutes, because brain freeze. Or, better yet, sometimes we literally choke on spit. Nearly asphyxiate. Because we regularly ‘swallow down the wrong hole’. 

Alien: Why did you say, last month, that your broken ribs and arm and massive blood loss was ‘fine’, but when you got a paper cut today, you cried for ten minutes and now still refuse to unwrap your wound? It is tiny in comparison to some things that you’ve faced without hesitation.

Human: Honestly it’s really stupid and I don’t really know, but I will swear up and down and until the day I die, a broken bone hurts way less than a paper cut.

Alien: But… no. It’s not worse. It… that doesn’t make sense.

Human: I know, right? But it’s true. 

Type Specialist Stereotypes

In an industry as competitive as this one, of course people are going to stereotype one another. It’s all in the name of memes and banter. 

Water: Pretentious, emotional, and preoccupied with battling beautifully. They want to win majestically or not at all. 90% chance that they own a book of profound poetry. 

Fire: Loud, hotheaded, extrovert. Probably a jerk. They gamble a lot and ‘play with fire’ as they battle, taking risks and relying heavily on instinct. 

Grass: Tree-hugging hippie who doesn’t know how to shout. Peaceful. Drinks a lot of tea and probably a vegetarian.  

Electric: Fun, but never knows when to shut up. A contrasting stereotype exists - that of the cool, unruffled electric specialist who manages to do the most mundane actions (like opening a door or eating a Pot Noodle) in a badass way. Such associations have likely come about due to Volkner and Elesa’s presence in the media. 

Ground: Down to earth, pleasant, but not the sharpest tool in the box. The infamous ‘Confused Ground Specialist’ meme circulated for months, centring on the assumption that ground trainers are always the last to figure out what’s going on. The meme escalated to ridiculous proportions and is now viewed as an embarrassment.

Rock: Fairly similar to ground, but with extra jokes about how they want to roll around in the earth. 

Steel: No sense of humour, boring, likely to battle completely to the rule book. Oddly enough, no famous specialists comply with this stereotype, so nobody is entirely sure where it came from. 

Normal: Overly defensive of their type to the point that they will scream about how they could decimate a dragonite with a skitty. Compensates for the dismissal of their type in competitive play by exaggerating its prowess.  

Fighting: Never stops talking about their damn work-out routine. Claims that they wrestle their hariyama four times a day. 

Bug: The biggest nerd you will ever meet. Encyclopedic knowledge, would cry over a bug, and never pushes their pokémon hard enough because they think they’re all beautiful and perfect. 

Ghost: No sense of priority when it comes to what they are afraid of. Will happily walk through a haunted house with blood all over its walls. Will claim that ghosts are innocent and fuzzy babies. Likely to be killed because they let a haunter lick them. 

Psychic: Completely bizarre. Probably believes in aliens. There aren’t many consistent stereotypes for psychic trainers outside of the belief that they’re all utter weirdos. 

Dark: Would sell their own mother for half a sandwich. 

Fairy: Never has any idea what is going on. Childish and pure. Daydreaming cinnamon rolls who forget everything you’ve told them five seconds after you’ve finished saying it. 

Ice: Mysterious, silent, secretive. They could be a member of a secret agency and you’d never know. Their memories never die. It’s likely that they know more about you than you do. You should be afraid of these people, just in case. 

Poison: Loves alternative music and has a collection of Doc Martens. Probably went through a rebellious phase and is lowkey still in it. Doesn’t shower enough. Ready to fight at all times.

Flying: Too serious and will punch you if you say you don’t like birds.   

Dragon: Noble, haughty, has an inflated sense of self-importance. Can’t get through a conversation without mentioning that they’re a dragon tamer. People make ‘found the dragon tamer’ jokes much like they do ‘found the vegan jokes’.  


something to work on between classes… harley x ivy lovin’s. i couldn’t pick which side of harley to do, so i just did both lmao


A Concept

One day Ladybug mentions how her favorite flower is *insert some rare blossom here* and Chat knows he has to get her a bouquet. So he goes home thinking he’ll just stop by the florist the next day and pick one up. Easy right?


Adrien goes around to no less than 14 flower shops before realizing that not one florist in Paris even stocks those types of flowers because they only grow wild and are not typically seen as desirable for bouquets because they are considered weeds. Disappointed but not undeterred, Adrien takes matters into his owns hands, scouring every park and garden and patch of green earth he can find until he manages to scrounge up a bursting bouquet’s worth of the elusive flower, which he presents to Ladybug the next time they meet up for patrol.

He’s got thorn pricks in his fingertips, a sore ankle from falling into a riverbed, and a mean case of poison ivy, but none of that matters when Ladybug lights up with a brilliant smile when she sees her gift.

(She gives him a kiss on the cheek)

(Chat silently screams)

(He ends up finding a way to grow *insert same rare flower here* in his yard so he can bring one to Ladybug every week)

Trunk Or Treat: The Bullshittest Halloween Event And Why You Should Avoid It

Every year as halloween draws closer, churches start handing out those fucking flyers for their bullshit ass ‘Trunk or Treat’ event, where the church members all line their cars up in a circle in the parking lot and you take your child on a quick 15 minute circuit of the cars, where they get like 3 bits of candy from each trunk and then go home. No one really likes it and it’s a ritual done out of fear and sheeplike cowardice born of the often circulated lie that for some reason on one night a year your neighbors turn into bloodthirsty assholes intent on drugging, poisoning and cutting your children. 

Heres a list of reasons why to avoid Trunk Or Treat.

1) It’s Not Safer

If your neighbors are gonna go nuts and try to kill your kids on Devils Night, why the fuck would being in a church lot change that? It wouldn’t is the answer you’re looking for.

2) Your Fears Are Bullshit

No child in the history of ever has ever been given poison or drugs on Halloween by a stranger. Not ever. 100% of poisoned/drugged candy cases were done by the parents. You are more of a danger to your kid on Halloween than Mr. Connors  down the street. 

3) Trunk Or Treat Is No Fun For Anyone

With the restricted costume list stifling your kids creativity, the ridiculously low age limit for who can trick or treat and even lower for who can wear a costume, the quickness of the event, the planned route and the limited candy, Trunk Or Treat is incredibly boring for the kids and even more boring for the adults, it feels mechanical and stupid. 

4) The Religious Aspect

Halloween is a time for fun, not a 20 minute dusty sermon about respecting Jesus and rejecting the Devil followed by a 20 minute rabbit-on-a-track walk around to peoples sparsely decorated shitty hatchback mom cars, listening to each of them say “god bless” and being made to thank them for each measly roll of sweet tarts. 

5) Costume Restrictions

You are crushing your childs spirit each time they get hyped to be Hellboy or a Vampire or an Imp for Halloween opnly to be told “You can’t wear that Demonic™ and UnGodly™ costume here.” You’re also making your older children, who are often barred from costumes at all, resent you, and trust me, they will carry that hate forever, DAD.

6) Its Too Quick

Half the fun of Halloween is not getting home until 9, its dark and spooky out and you have a bag full of candy and a pumpkin with a face on it, it’s little kid heaven. Unless of course you’re a shithead who took their kids Trunk Or Treating at 5 in the goddamn afternoon, starting and finishing well before sundown, in which case its just a church trip with shit candy at the end, and a lasting resentment for Disney Channel shows that portray Halloween the way it should be. 

Anyway don’t take your kids Trunk Or Treating. 

kagua321-deactivated20171025  asked:

Can u tell me any secrets the characters have?

Mikasa: Looks at the other girls’ panties
Reiner: Watches Bertl sleeping
Bertholdt: Knows Reiner is watching him
Annie: Steals sweets from the MP
Eren: Masturbates (everyone knows)
Jean: Has drawings of Mikasa in his closet
Marco: Once intentionally killed a bee
Sasha: Likes to gossip
Connie: Had a huge crush on Annie once
Historia: Picks her nose
Armin: has dyslexia
Ymir: Had a straight phase once
Levi: Hates undercuts, but it’s the only thing he knows how to cut
Hanji: Likes the sweaty smell
Erwin: Is actually a dragon
Nanaba: Owns rat poison in case someone’s rude
Mike: Thinks Levi smells awful
Moblit: Always gets drunk after duty


You can only be nice for so long when you’re a villain.

C.R.O.W.N. - Continental Reconnaissance Operations to Ward Neutrality
a disney princess modern spy au - written by Brenna, graphics by Drew

Agent 0405-38
Codename: SNOW
Status: ACTIVE

Name: Marie Weiss.
Alias(es): Margarethe Lohr.
Birthplace: Berlin, Germany.
Occupation: Biochemist.
Division: Forensics.
Specialism: computer science; forensic science; knowledge of various poisoning methods’ unarmed conbatant; technical skills.
Additional Knowledge: bilingual (English and German); certified CPR practitioner; university degree in biochemistry with specialty in toxicology.
Medical Records: Agent SNOW has displayed high tolerance and, in some cases, immunity to particular toxins (see file: Lab Incident Report #1934); agent is being subjected to further testing.
●  Grimm, Veronika; maternal aunt and stepmother. (See file: ARACHNE_FAIREST)
●  Klein, Bertram; adopted uncle. (See file: Agent BASHFUL)
●  Klein, Dietrich; adopted uncle. (See file: Agent DOPEY)
●  Klein, Dr. Nikolaus; adopted father. (See file: Agent DOC)
●  Klein, Gervas; adopted uncle. (See file: Agent GRUMPY)
●  Klein, Hugo; adopted uncle. (See file: Agent HAPPY)
●  Klein, Samuel; adopted uncle. (See file: Agent SLEEPY)
●  Klein, Severin; adopted uncle. (See file: Agent SNEEZY)
●  Weiss, Johann; father - DECEASED.
●  Weiss, Ava; mother - DECEASED.

Marie Weiss was sick her whole childhood, pale as death and always on some new medication via her stepmother’s orders. She never asked where the drugs came from or why she had to take them until she came across a file lying on Grimm’s desk detailing all the ways she was being poisoned. Marie fled the house, changed her name, and disappeared from public record - until years later, when C.R.O.W.N. brought her in to crack down on several high-profile poisoning cases; needless to say, it didn’t take long for Marie to determine the culprit.

fun fact: most cases of poisoned halloween candy were done by relatives or someone who knew the child. often a parent and also i can’t believe 90s era fake chainmail stories are still being passed around in 2017, when we all have a high speed internet connections and google right at our fingertips every second of the day

anonymous asked:

So it's pretty clear that Lisa isn't going to appear anytime soon😥😪 So any Goldenvibe or Poison (Ivy Golden) Glider headcanons?

Oh man, I miss Lisa.

Headcanon - after leaving Central after her dad’s death, she went to Opal City for a while. She met up with Shawna there and they were planning on getting Len out of Iron Heights but Mardon beat them to it (about which Shawna is displeased because dammit, now she still owes Snart).

Lisa moved on to Gotham after that. It’s a wacky place, but now that her life involves metahumans and more, why not see what all the fuss is about. And boy is there fuss.

Gotham is nothing like Central. It’s not really like anything. She almost wonders, when she first gets there, if she’s fallen into another dimension. The architecture, the rain, the way the entire city seems to brood. And Centralites are used to their Flash and metahuman terrors, but they were never so casually habituated to crime and corruption. 

She thrives. Lisa knows how to play the game. She’s always had anger to spare, and she knows how to use a simper, a well-placed smile, a perfectly poised threat. Lisa’s hair’s been getting blonder each time she’s in the mood for something new. She tries some red just for fun one time.

And she’s making friends, so many new friends. Most people not from Gotham can never match it’s speed. Lisa feels like she’s found home for the first time.

So when it happens - the poisoning - she’s a little surprised, but probably shouldn’t be. You can’t trust anyone in Gotham. Except things don’t really go the way her poisoner planned. In retrospect, much later, it’s not that hard to figure out why. Central City, dark matter, it’s the same old story. It’s latent in her cells, just waiting for the right trigger. And this, apparently, was it.

When she wakes up in the hospital, she’s not just Lisa anymore, not just the Golden Glider. She’s so much more. And she’s going to need a new alias.

thedancingbookworm  asked:

If you're still taking prompts...Killian is sick but carries on and the team don't notice. Cue guilt when they figure out he's been suffering in silence (bonus points for Charming figuring it out)

i LOVE THIS PROMPT! I hope this is okay lol. Set in season 3 cos, why not?

The fact he was late should have been the first sign something was wrong. He entered the inn slightly out of breath and looking paler than usual. Dark circles were still visible underneath his eyeliner and his clothes disheveled.

“Too much rum last night?” David sniped, taking in his haggard appearance.

“Something like that.” He offered without gusto.

“Now you’re finally here, we need to arrange search groups to tackle the north woods.” Emma interrupted, getting them straight down to business.

She split them into two. Herself, David and Killian would scout the north-west while Regina and Robin would gather the merry men and take the north-east.

“You ready?” Emma asked the pirate rising slowly from his chair.

“Aye… i’ll meet out out front.” he informed her before disappearing down the hall towards the bathroom.

Neither took any notice, heading towards the front of the inn to head out.

The trek through the woods was quiet. Killian kept falling behind being rather sluggish in his movements, much to Emma and David’s irritation. A sheen of sweat had formed on his skin causing it to glisten in the freezing temperatures.

“Look, if you’re too hungover you might as well head back.” David offered none too kindly.

“I’m not and i’m fine.” Killian gritted out.

His words didn’t convince them as he leaned against the nearest tree for support, knees almost buckling as he turned his head and began dry heaving.

Emma and David turned with mild disgust, letting the man empty his stomach in private.

They turned back to find him panting, weakly grabbing for the flask in his pocket.

“Yeah, that’ll help.” Emma snapped. “Seriously, just go back, Killian.”

He swilled a mouthful of rum around before spitting it out, rinsing his mouth of the horrible aftertaste. His jaw clenched as he stubbornly put the flask back and marched forward passing the two sheriffs.

“I said i’m fine. Let’s carry on, shall we?”

Both Emma and David sighed at his reluctance to give up. He clearly seemed pissed off that they’d called out his drinking habit, so if he wanted to make himself feel worse by proving some point, they weren’t going to stop him.

It got to lunch time and they’d had no such luck. They decided to head back to the diner to regroup and go over anything they might have missed.

Keep reading



He spent the next five days retracing his victims’ steps.  He talked to so many people. Devoured past interview transcripts.  Phone records.  Tried to think of every damn stone he could turn over.  His efforts finally provided a link between the two men. 

Both had a history of domestic abuse.  

After conducting some interviews of his own, he was pretty sure he could rule out the wife and girlfriend as suspects. 

He found one more commonality though.  But he needed to talk to Claire about it first.  

It had been five days since they’d had pizza and wine together.  Five days since he’d taken her hand and watched her flinch as if burned. It didn’t take his detecting skills to figure this out.  He was certain now.  The evidence was too convincing.

Claire Randall saw things.  Visions. Premonitions.    

Claire Randall was a Psychic.  

He wasn’t innocent.  He knew the signs of an aroused woman.  Pupils dilated. Cheeks flushed.  Breath short.  Every time he touched her, she reacted. 

When they parted five days ago she was furious. Twisting her hand from his she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, and brought him to within mere inches of her face.  She cursed him.  Hard.  

“You fucking bastard!“  Then she shoved him out of way, and disappeared inside her townhouse before he was able to make it to the bottom of her front door stairs. 

He could hear the music before he reached the basement of the building.  The pounding of the drums loud and jarring, the words coming fast and hard.    

This doesn’t mean I lost my dream,

It’s just right now I got a really crazy mind to clean.

Can you save

Can you save my

Can you save my heavy dirty soul?

Jamie stopped at the double doors and watched her through the window.  She was laying bones out on a table from a box.  

He watched her hold each piece of the skeleton for a moment.  Internalizing. Listening.  Then lay it out in its correct spot.  She did this with each and every vertebrae.  Solemn,  Respectful.  She pulled out a humerus. She smiled as if remembering something special. Whimsically.  Fondly.  What had Claire Randall held in her arms to make her smile like that? She pulled out the skull. Ran her long, delicate fingers over the cranium.  She closed her eyes, and he saw her shake her head sadly.  What did she see?  

Down here, hidden away, the music drowning out the world around her, Claire was free to be herself.  To let her gift flow without fear.  The bones spoke to her. A good woman.  Her death was peaceful, of that Claire was sure.  And she had loved, and been loved.  

Jamie watched with fascination.  Heavy dirty soul. What was it that weighed her down?  Why did such a beautiful woman, eyes that could shine with golden light, choose to lock herself away in solitude?  

The song was still pulsing.  He pushed the door, and felt the resistance.  He reared back.


Death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit.

He banged on the door.  The music prevented his intrusion.  So he waited. Man, those drums. They were relentless.  He didn’t understand how she could concentrate.

The song finished.  He knocked and watched her head snap up.  

Their eyes locked for a moment.  He could see the war raging in her mind. So, she had been avoiding him.  He held up the file in his hand, and shouted, “I think I found something!”

The next song kicked on and she jumped.  More drums, heavy bass.  She set the skull down gently, and came over to unlock the door.  She hit the button on her sound system as she passed it drenching the sterile room in silence.

The lock slide free.  She didn’t bother to open the door, just turned and walked away.  Jamie stepped inside the cool room and let the door whoosh closed.  

“Thanks for yer time.” he said by way of hello.  “I have a couple of connections in the poisoning cases, but one needed yer expertise.”

Claire went back to her work removing bones without a word.  Jamie followed her over to the table.  “What do ye have here?”

“Woman.  Brought in for me to see if I could identify her, maybe connect her to a missing persons.”

“What did she die of?”

“Nat-” Claire stopped.  “I won’t know until I examine everything.”   Her hands gripped the edge of the box, and she let her head fall forward. She grit her teeth until she could feel the pulse in her jaw jump.  Where had her guard gone? Where had her carefully constructed persona gone? 

What’s your question?”  Claire kept working.  Keeping it professional.

“The autopsy report said the stomach contents were the same.  Can ye confirm somethin’ for me?”

Claire gave him the briefest of glances.  “I can try.”

“Would ye say both men ate at the same place before they died?”  He watched her eyes widen just a little before answering.

“I don’t really know for sure.  I mean, it’s possible.  If I remember correctly I indicated they had similar meals.  I can’t confirm they were from the same place.”  Claire turned back to the box and closed her eyes for a brief moment revisiting the impression that hit her during the second postmortem.  Glass cases.  Fresh, crisp vegetables.  Bright blue floor.  Small tables.  Sunlight.  

She grabbed a mandible.  This one had been chatty in life. 

Jamie leaned across the table at her, trying to meet her eyes.  She did know. Instinctively.  He wished she would trust him.

“Talk to me, Claire,” he said, soft, and caring.  Pleading.  A lover’s voice. 

“That’s what we’re doing,” she said, clipped and hard.

“Yeah.  How about ye tell me the truth.  Without ye dropping yer head, or swearin’ at me?”  He’d never met a woman so closed off.

“Look.  I’m busy, and I want to get this done because I’m hungry.”  She took out another bone, a rib, and laid it on the table.   

“Here,” he said, stepping around the table and reaching inside the box, “let me help.”

“No!” Claire shouted, blocking his way with her arm.  She would never get the whole picture if she didn’t connect with every single bone.  She moved too fast and made a mistake. She accidentally placed a hand on his chest trying to hold him off.  

Right above his heart.  Laughter.  Affection.  Joy.  So much joy. 

She pulled her hand back, fast.  Her breath was irregular.  She grasped at the first excuse she could think of to cover her behaviour.  “You don’t have gloves on.”

Now, Jamie thought.  Now we talk about it.  He stepped closer to her.  

“Ye know what we could be.  But ye don’t think we should be together.” He tried to catch her eye, but she was having none of it.   

“That’s right,” Claire said.  Another bone on the table.  “I think I’ve been very clear.”  

“Well, I need to be clear, too.”  Honesty.  It felt like the right way to go in this case.  “I feel this. Just as ye do.  I can’t ignore it.”

“Well, you have to.”  She prayed the floor would open up and swallow her whole.  

“I can’t.  I dinna want to.”  Jesus, Jamie thought.  Am I actually begging right now?

“Not my pig, not my farm, Fraser.”  She would not get into this.  She was doing fine without another Alpha Male in her life. She dug through the box.

“Can you?”  He asked her, his voice mocking.

“Can I what?”  Claire was being purposely obtuse.  It served her well, at times. A collarbone set in place.  

“Ignore it.” His voice reflected his impatience. 

“Yes.  Quite easily”  Which wasn’t exactly the truth, but Claire decided it would have to be her truth for right now.

“I don’t believe ye.”  He would not give in without a fight.  “Why do we have to ignore it?”   Persistence.  It’s what made him a good detective.   

She slammed the femur down on the table with a crash.  The clang of the metal table reverberated around the room.  Jamie jumped back.

“Dammit. STOP.”  She realized she wouldn’t get any peace until she spelled it out for him.  Fine.  He wanted her secrets, did he?  Damn him.  He had no right to them. 

“Now you listen to me, James Fraser.  I get how perceptive you are.  I understand that you think you know me.  But you don’t.  I will say this once, and only once.  Am I attracted to you?  Hell, yes.  You’re too damn good-looking by half, and smarter than the average man which makes you even more alluring in my eyes.  But there cannot be an ‘us’.  Understood?  I like the men in my life to be like my cadavers.  Simple.  Silent.  And dead. ”   

“But that’s not what ye see.”  Jamie’s eyes narrowed like a cat’s.  

Claire threw her hands in the air, exasperated.  

“Do yer visions ever not come to pass?” he persisted.

Claire counted to twenty before she answered.  Fucking, stubborn Scot. 

“No,” she whispered.  “I haven’t been wrong.  Yet.”

Finding “The End XX”?

Because of The Lost Special update, with the header saying “The End- XX”, I decided to do a quick word search of all the times ‘end’ appears in The Final Problem:

“Kills you in the end.”- the security guard about Eurus’s violin playing, and Sherlock replies that it’s “still beautiful, though.”

“What advantage did your moral code grant you? Is it not, in the end, selfish to keep one’s hands clean at the expense of another’s life?”- Eurus to John after she’s killed the governor’s wife.

“And here we are, the end of the line.”- Moriarty’s video message playing while Sherlock aims the gun at Mycroft.

And then, why not do the rest of the s4 eps for completeness ;):

The Six Thatchers:

“I mean, we were at the top of our game for years. And then it all ended.”- Mary about her time in ‘A.G.R.A’

I don’t like loose ends. Not on my watch.”- so says Mycroft ;)

Oh. I knew it wouldn’t end like this. I knew Moriarty made plans.”- just before Sherlock watches Mary’s DVD.

The Lying Detective:

By the end of this, you’ll be free to go, and don’t worry, by the time you’re back in the outside world, you will not remember any of what you’ve heard.”- Culverton during his “TD 12 meeting.”

“Presumably you downsized when you… when you left your job and maybe when you ended your relationship.”- Sherlock to the woman he believes is Faith.

So, when I tell you that this is the most dangerous, the most despicable human being that I have ever encountered, when I tell you that this, this monster must be ended, please remember where you are standing, because you’re standing exactly where I said you would be two weeks ago.”- Sherlock to John after interrupting his therapy appointment.

“We’re going to have endless fun, Mr Holmes, aren’t we?”/  “Oh, no. No, not endless.”- conversation between Culverton Smith and Sherlock.

I think you slightly gave away the ending.”- John to Sherlock after Sherlock describes the ‘Blessington the Poisoner’ case.

“The third, of course, will be the end of a walking cane.”- Sherlock boasting to Culverton about the number of impacts in the footsteps he will hear as Faith approaches.

Funnily enough, you know where ‘the end’ doesn’t appear? At the ‘end’ of The Final Problem, the ‘end’ of series 4. Because it’s not the end. ;)

Originally posted by iamuniquedreamer

my top 5 lesbians movies r (in no particular order and off the top of my head)

  1. but i’m a cheerleader
  2. gia
  3. the runaways
  4. heavenly creatures
  5. blue is the warmest color (i know)

reblog with your top 5 lesbians/wlw/bisexual movies!!