sher lock

sher-lock-combs  asked:

Does your universe Riddler know American Sign Language?

He does, and Edward very good at matching his face to his signs (thus making him very capable of relaying sarcasm in ASL).

Other Signers include Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Harleen Quinzel, Alastor Sharpe, Harvey Dent, Vic Sage, Slade Wilson, Barbara Gordon, and James Gordon.

Jonathan, as with many languages, can understand it, but can’t sign back. Waylon knows “I don’t know how to sign” and “Hello”. Oswald can sign, but as he refuses to publicly show his left hand, he won’t sign. Instead, he brings in a translator when necessary - pretending he needs to know what’s being said (a good ploy for seeing if he’s being taken for a ride).

Jason Todd says he knows one sign. We all know what he means, and we don’t ask.

Every time - Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x Reader

Hey ! Let’s take a little break from writing about the batfam and give Sherlock some love. So here, number 44. “EVERY TIME I SAY THAT YOU ALWAYS MAKE THE SAME PUN” for @whovianayesha, it wasn’t an easy story to write, I hope I didn’t mess it too much, like I hope the characters are not totally out of character, like that it’s not just PLAIN FUCKING BAD and that you’ll like it :s : 

(My masterlist blog : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

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John and Mary Watson enter yours and Sherlock’s shared apartment, and discover you laughing loudly on John’s ex-chair, in front of a very confused Mrs. Hudson. 

Your boyfriend, Sherlock Holmes, is no where to be seen. 

John, being the genius detective best friends understands immediately what was going on, and isn’t able to hold a little chuckle in, under the curious gaze of his wife. 

Mary turns to Mrs. Hudson with a questioning look, and the older lady answers : 

-I’m not sure what happened. They were being cute in the living room. He was trying to solve a case, sitting on the floor in front of her, she was playing with his hair oh it was so cute you should have seen it ! …And then all of a sudden, he stood up, quite annoyed, and left to go lock himself in his bedroom and she has been laughing ever since ! That happened over half an hour ago ! 

John smiles at the confused landlord, and approaches you. He lays a hand on your shoulder, and finally, you notice him. Your laughter finally subsides, and you look at everyone in the room. 

-Oh hey guys. How long have you been there ? 

-Mrs. Hudson, since half an hour apparently, us ? Only a few minutes. 

You smile mischievously and none of them can stop themselves from smiling back at you. Before Mary can asks further questions, because she’s still quite…disconcerted as to what is going on, John continues : 

-Did you say it again ? 

-I have no idea what you’re talking about John. 

-Oh come on, was he stuck on a case ? And you said it right ? 

Your smile broadens even more, turning almost sly, and in a breath you say : 

-Maybe. 

-What was it this time ? How did you annoy him ? 

-Puns. 

-Puns ? 

-Yup. Puns. Terrible one at that. 

And without any warning, you start to chuckle lowly, but it rapidly turns into a full on laughter ! 

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types of tumblr taggers

the silent one: literally vacant, you wonder if they’re real and have a soul

the berserker: you can’t tell if they’re the destroyed ones or the keyboard
#KSJDKFHGFAL, #ALYAJ, #WHOW, #SOOA, #GOJOD!!, #LKEI!!, #WWO!!, #YAHAH FHITHS NYOA SDOGOSA

the complimenter: compliment anything, especially the friends
#so beautiful!, #I love you, #<3<3<3 wowowow!!!

the over-organized one: tag every detail, super organized
#gif, #fan art, #art by op, #not my gif, #edit, #edit by op, #picture, #face, #door

the hater: reblog something to spread the rage in the tags
#so ugly, #I hate this ship, #ugly edit, #I hate you all, #you all need jesus

the blogger who’s constantly queueing posts: seriously, where are they
#queue, #q: not here, #queueue, #q

the jerk: add jokes, mainly about themselves
#this monkey looks like me, #hahah me, #I’m the garbage can

the lost one: add tags which have nothing to do with the post
#oh man I gotta study what am I doing here, #gotta do the dishes, #mom’s angry

the criticiser: silently add some recommendations
#this is good but I don’t get this one bc .., #pls change this into …

the squad member: tag all friends, confusing everyone but the squad
#fred, #harry, #janice, #squad look at this

the ruler of punctuation: add nothing but punctuation characters no one but themselves can decipher
#!!!!!!!, #?!!!?!?!?!, #…:::, #!.!:.!:

the thirsty ones: mainly over people or characters they cannot reach in real life
#I love him, #he’s mine, #my husband, #my waifu, #AAAHHH he’s so hot

the mad one or that’s what you think: #ok #good

the one consistently using secret tags for anything: #my husband, #my son, #smirko

the constant screamer: #WOOOOOOOOAHHHHH!!!!!!, #AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, #CRYING!!!, #OMG, #NHHGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, #WHAT IS THIS I CAN’T TELL, #MAN THIS SHIT’S SO REAL

the constant laugher: #AHAHAHAHHA, #AHUHGAHGAHGHYA, #JAJAQJJAJJAJ, #XAXHAXHAXA, #SDKASJDKAYAYAJHAHA, #HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

the one on the verge of death: #I canyat bretahe, #hkeop, #helpppppp, #aahhhhhhhh, #hjsdfhakrefregreg

the priest: add wise and (long) quotes
#why are you people like that? everytime I see this I ………, #this life is awful and so are you people, #make a change and start with yourself

the forgetful: tag everything in a mass because they can’t remember the tags
#sherlock holmes, #holmes sherlock, #sherry, #sh, #hs, #sher, #lock, #shrlck

the one who always gets reminded of something sad: #I miss you #this cat reminds me of jess, #come back, #jack come back, #I hate my job

Their first kiss takes place at the bottom of the stairs, where their first laugh was. And, that’s where it starts, the ‘double-tap’, Sherlock calls it.

As John slowly separates their lips, he tugs Sherlock’s forehead down to his own and brings their temples gently together twice. Though Sherlock notices it happening, he has no urge at all to question it. Not when his mind is already spiraling after the first touch of John’s lips against his own. Foreheads be damned. 

But, Sherlock notices the double-tap again. This time at night, in their bed. John’s holding Sherlock from behind, arms secured around the detective’s waist. Sherlock is drifting off into the milky feeling of sleep, when he feels a small ‘bump-bump’ against the bare skin along his spine – followed by a small puff of warm air as John sighs contently.

What was it? Why does John do that?

Sherlock applies some rather embarrassing internet searches to the topic of forehead-bumping your partners…but comes up with nothing but juvenile sites for teens venturing off into the ‘Exciting World of Relationships’, as well as sites that gives tips on executing a successful headbutt that will knock out an attacker in one go.

Neither of those help. So, Sherlock assumes it’s just a John-thing. Which is fine, because that means it’s going to be easier to figure out. Sherlock just needs to focus on it better.

Two and a half weeks into the Bump Study, and Sherlock’s not really gotten anywhere.

What originally Sherlock thought was an action done after kissing, turns out to be an action done before falling asleep, after saying hello, before saying goodbye, after an argument, after tea, in the middle of watching a film, etc.

What does it mean??

One day, Sherlock gets fed up with not knowing. He hates not knowing.

“What is that?” Sherlock asks, and in confusion, John looks down at the only thing he has currently.

John waves a hand toward his plate. “Toast with peach jam…?”

“Damn the jam, John.” Sherlock rubs the heels of his palms against his eyes. “The head thing, what is it?”

“Your skull…?”

“Oh, John. I envy you.”

John rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know.” He says. “Lucky John gets to be an idiot, while I, the Sherlock have to lug the weight of my big brain around.”

Sherlock peeks up from between his fingers. “You take that back.”

“You probably only have curls to hide the massiveness of your head that your brain causes.”

“I just. Want to know. Why you bump me with your forehead.” Sherlock can’t believe the conversation they’re having.

“Oh,” John’s frozen for a moment, then he’s shifting about. “It’s just…”

Sherlock is quite literally on the edge of his seat. “Yes??”

John is blushing. “I do it for a lot of reasons.”

Sherlock’s mouth falls open, then snaps shut. “Goodness, John. Your ability to specify leaves our country forever indebted.”

“Prick,” John dry-laughs. “Anyway, it’s words, Sherlock.”

“…Words?”

“Each tap is usually a word, and sometimes it’s a single word with two syllables.”

“Tell me. Which words?”

"Okay,” John says. “Warning though, this is very sappy.”

“So be it. Sap on.”

“The words are: ‘thank you’,” John gets out of his chair. “’Need you’, ‘want you’, ‘love you’, ‘hate you’…” He stops in front of Sherlock, leans down until he’s close enough to softly bring their foreheads together twice. “’Sher-Lock’.”

John breaks the name into its two separate sounds to show how it fits into the double-tap.

Sherlock doesn’t know why he feels so near tears.

Requested by thestrawberryblondehobbitbatch:  Sherlock x reader. Jim kipnaps Sherlocks wife. He finds you weeks later. Weak from lack of food and water. Once at the hospital the doctor finds ‘Did You Miss Me?’ Cut into her back

(gif note mine but writing is)

Where is she?

“Where is she?” Sherlock shouts as he worryingly paces around 221B Baker Street. John stood nervously watching. On the table Sherlock’s laptop was open. He was currently having a group video chat with his brother Mycroft Holmes who works in the British government and Greg Lestrade, inspector at Scotland Yard.

“Where is (Y/N)?” Sherlock yells whilst picking up a book and throwing it across the room. The book had knocked some items off of the mantelpiece. Sherlock walked over to them and picks up a shiny rectangle. It was a photograph of Sherlock in a black suit hugging you in your white wedding dress. The happiest day in both of your lives. Gazing at it lovingly, Sherlock gently strokes the frame before putting it back ontop of the mantlepiece.

“We have our best people on it.” said Greg.
“The case is our top priority.” added Mycroft. Angrily Sherlock slams down his laptop lid, ending the chat. “Idiots” he mumbled as he walked back over to the photograph.
“They’re trying their best.” John says, trying to reassure him.
“I need her John… I. Need. Her.” Sherlock pleas as he starts to stroke your face in the picture.

You had been missing for a week now. It was so simple, you went to the shop but never returned home. There were no leads, your mobile was uncontactable, you had completely vanished. No contact from you or your captor. Sherlock had no idea who had abducted you and it was tearing him apart. You were his other half, a half that he didnt knew he needed before. He often described you as more powerful than any drug and more interesting than any case.
Permanently glued to his chair, he barely ate or slept. Only having the minimum amount, so he was always ready if he heard any news. John and Mrs Hudson took it in turns to watch over him.

John had walked into the room after making some toast. Sherlock was still in his chair, one of your dressing gowns draped over him. Placing a slice of toast next to Sherlock, John sat in his chair. Sherlock nuzzled the dressing gown whilst he was twisting his wedding ring around his finger. From what John could tell, Sherlock was in his mind palace.
Suddenly Sherlock’s mobile phone vibrated on the table, making him jump. The screen illuminated with the words ‘1 new message from unknown number’. “Finally” Sherlock mumbled as he grabbed the phone. He hesitated before opening the message, mentally preparing himself for what it might be.

Sherlock’s eyes widened in shock. It was a photograph showing your face and neck. Tears streaming down your face. Your watery eyes were framed by black rings of fatigue under them. You were clearly in distress. Bruises made from fingertips were on your neck, suggesting that a restraining hand had previously been there. A man’s lips were kissing your neck. Unfortunately the photograph only showed the very edge of them, making their owner difficult to discover. Under the photograph was a caption which read 'Thank you for the gift Sherlock. She is too delicious to resist!’

Tears filled Sherlock’s eyes as he stared at the image. “She looks different.” he whispered. John walked over to look at the message. Placing a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder he said “It could just be the camera angle.”
Sherlock’s eyes interrogated the photograph. “No, that’s not it. Something is wrong with her face. It’s… It’s thinner.” he said trying to keep his voice steady and attempting to suppress his quickly growing anger.

For the next week Sherlock frantically ran around London, trying to figure out your location. He took his mobile to Lestrade in an attempt to track the number that sent the message. Sherlock knew that it would not work but he had to try anyway. Using the photograph he analysed the background but there was too little information to go on. He was running around in circles and he knew it. Despite his desperate efforts, you were unobtainable. Slowly, it was breaking him.

Sherlock laid on the sofa in 221B. John had tried his best to keep him positive but it had been weeks now. All Sherlock would say is “How can I be a consulting detective if I can’t even find my wife… I miss her so much.”
Sherlock’s mobile buzzed with another new message from an unknown number. He turned around and sat up on the sofa. His eyes filled with tears, he had been silently crying again.

The message was another photograph. It was of your hand being held by a man’s hand. He could spot your hand instantly especially because of your engagement and wedding rings. The man’s hand looked strangely familiar but Sherlock could not think of whose it was at that moment. A caption read 'I think we have really bonded’ this was then followed by a list of numbers.

John sat next to him on the sofa, looking over his shoulder at the message. Mrs Hudson also stared in from the kitchen as she made cups of tea for the three of them. “Coordinates” Sherlock said whilst looking at the numbers. Suddenly something happened that Sherlock did not expect. His phone rang. His mobile illuminated with 'unknown number calling’
With a trembling hand he answered it and put it on speaker phone. His eyes widened as he heard the sound of your voice.

“Hello my love. He knows that you have figured out the numbers.” your voice was shakey and weak. “Sherlock, he says that he is going to leave you a message… What is that? Why do you have that? No please, no!” you let out a blood curdiling scream. John could see Sherlock’s heart breaking. He was in agony.

Almost instantly Sherlock stood up. “We. Go. Now!” Sherlock growled as he put on his coat and taking a bag from the side. John hurriedly did the same as they both ran out the door and hailed a cab.

Following the coordinates, the taxi pulled up outside an abandoned office building. As they stepped in they could see long corridors filled with offices, all of them looking identical. John had the bag on his back and a gun in his hand. “Look at the walls. I should have known it would have been here.” Sherlock said.
“We couldn’t have gotten here any sooner.” John reassuringly replied.
In one of the offices at the other side of the corridor. Sherlock could see a figure slumped on the floor.

“Sher…lock” you said though your voice was no louder that a whisper. Slowly lifting your head, a smile spread across your face as you saw your husband. You would be crying with joy if you weren’t so dehydrated. Sherlock ran towards you and knelt down besides you. He gently hugged you and planted kisses all over your face before tenderly kissing your lips. It was as if you both couldn’t quite believe that you were finally reunited. Both of you were completely overwhelmed.
Looking at your dramatically thinner body, John rang for an ambulance.

Reaching into the bag and pulling out a bottle, Sherlock pours some water into your mouth. It was what you had been craving for weeks. You welcomed the feeling as a drop slipped out of your mouth, washing over your dry lips. John kept guard in case your captor was still around as Sherlock placed a cube of chocolate on your tongue. “I’ve missed you so much.” you whispered as Sherlock stroked your cheek.
“Are you talking about me or the chocolate?” Sherlock said which made you giggle. He savoured the sound of you laughter as a happy tear ran down his cheek.

Holding your hands he helped you as you shakily stood up. Your black form hugging dress now looked baggy as it hung off of your body. You started to walk but your legs buckled. You would have fallen on to the floor but Sherlock had caught you by placing a supportive hand on your back. This made you whimper in pain.
You shook your head. You felt like you didn’t want to be touched, especially there. Thoughts of you captor filled your mind and you shuddered in fear.

Without warning Sherlock scoops you up and starts to carry you. He was slightly alarmed by how much lighter you felt in his arms. You could start to hear sirens in the distance. Laying your head against Sherlock’s chest, you closed your eyes as you listened to the relaxing sound of his steady heartbeat.

You woke up in a white hospital bed. Sherlock was sat on a chair next to you holding your hand. His eyes staring at you. A smile crept onto his face as he watched your eyes open. He stood up and leaned over you, gently placing a kiss in your forehead before sitting back down again. You mouthed the words 'I love you’ which made his smile bigger.

You looked around the room. “John’s working on a few of the leads I have. Your captor seemed familiar but I just can’t quite put my finger on who it is yet.” Sherlock said with disappointment in his eyes.

“I see that I have come in at the right time.” said a doctor as he walked into the room. “(Y/N) as you know you are severely dehydrated and malnourished. I have given you some quick working syrups to help build your strength up. As long as you rest for the next few weeks, you will feel better in no time. You have also lost a lot of blood. I found something very strange when I examined you - ”
You cut him off as Sherlock looked at you with a confused expression.
“Please can I tell him… In private?” you ask with a look of shame on your face. The doctor nodded as he left the room.

“Sherlock…” your words trailed off as tears filled your eyes.
“What is it?” Sherlock asked lovingly as his hands cupped your face.
“You know how you said that my captor seemed familiar to you. Firstly, you know him. Sherlock it’s difficult. I hate him, you hate him. I can’t even say his name. The message he said that he was going to leave you… Well…” you say shakily.

Getting up and out of the bed, you stood in front of Sherlock. Turning around so you now faced the wall, you pulled your hospital gown up. Sherlock’s heart sank as his fists clenched in anger.

Carved deeply into your back were the words 'Did You Miss Me?’

“Moriarty” Sherlock growled through gritted teeth.

consider. the 616 avengers are (hate)watching bbc sherlock (just go with it) specifically the irene adler episode. and the phone thing happens. the password is “SHER.” “I AM SHER-LOCKED.” everyone’s talking about how ridiculous that is

anthony edward stark sweats nervously. he started a new digital project yesterday and the voice password to access it is “two hours ago steve called me his best friend for the 19th time this month”

If You’re Not Averse...

Part 2! :) 

Greg walked up to the ornate house, swallowing harshly. His fingers clasped the strings of the red gift bag at his side, nervously raising and lowering it in a stressful fashion. He had no idea what to buy Mycroft Holmes for a Valentine’s Day present; he hoped the other man liked what he’d gotten him. He readjusted his charcoal suit, fluffing his hair and fixing his tie. Before he knocked on the door, Mycroft was already hauling it open and hauling Greg inside, drawing him into a sweet kiss.

When it ended, Greg smiled at him. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Myc.” He said with a charming smile, proffering the bag to his boyfriend. “It’s not much, but you’re a difficult man to shop for.”

Mycroft chuckled softly and took the bag from the other man, not yet opening it. “Yours is in the kitchen. Come on.” He said, turning on his heel and leading the other man deeper into the house.

When Greg entered the kitchen, he noticed how spotless it was. Mycroft had cleaned the house for this very occasion. Everything was put away as it should have been, except for a small lidded cake plate in the middle of the table. Greg furrowed his brow and glanced at Mycroft.

“Go ahead. That’s your gift, Gregory.” Mycroft said, stepping to the side to let the other man open it. He glanced at the bag in his hand, but he wanted to see Lestrade’s reaction to the cake first. Greg removed the lid from the platter and his eyes widened.

“Whoa…” He gasped, licking his lips as he saw it. “D-did you make this, from scratch?” He glanced up at Mycroft, who had suddenly started blushing. He nodded.

“Do you like it?” Mycroft asked. “Everything I thought about buying you seemed wrong, and since you’re such a great cook I thought, maybe I could tr—

Mycroft never finished his sentence, as it was cut off by Greg’s lips against his. Greg steered him back against the countertop, holding him there and kissing him roughly, but sweetly. The impact was enough to knock the gift bag from Mycroft’s hand.

The passion flowed from the both of them, and Greg grinned into the kiss, drawing away with a chuckle. Mycroft raised his brows. “Should I take that as a yes?” He said, scratching his face a little as Greg turned back to the cake.

“You didn’t have to go through so much trouble. I know you don’t cook that often, let alone bake such an elaborate cake.” Greg’s gaze was positively overflowing with affection at this point.

Mycroft shrugged and waved a hand. “It wasn’t a problem, honestly.” Luckily, years of being a Holmes and acting as the British Government made him an expert liar. Greg whistled, impressed.

“I love it. Thank you. I can’t wait to taste it… if it’s anywhere near as good as the chef, it should be positively exquisite. It’s your turn to open your gift now, Myc.”

Myc glanced at the bag he had been holding, bending over to pick it up. He reached into the bag and withdrew a DVD case. He glanced down at it and saw the title, Roman Holiday. It was a romantic film from the 1950s starring Audrey Hepburn, and it was one of his favorite films of all time. But that wasn’t all; it was a collector’s, platinum edition complete with bonus featurettes and scenes. Mycroft beamed as he looked on it.

“Gregory… this is wonderful!” Mycroft exclaimed, gently enveloping the other man in a hug. “Is this the plan for our first Valentine’s Day, cake and a film?”

“I don’t see why we have to go out and do anything over-the-top. Nights in with you are the best. But instead of watching the movie on your couch, let’s lie in bed and watch it together.” Greg winked at him, and before he could reply further, Mycroft was already dragging him upstairs to his bedroom. Mycroft didn’t have a TV in here, but he had his laptop, and cuddling with his boyfriend in his bed topped the entertainment experience of his home theater system anyway.

Before he opened the DVD case, he withdrew an envelope from his pocket with Greg’s name on it.

“What’s this?” He asked, about to open it. Mycroft tugged it away from him, biting back a smirk. “Not yet. Wait until after the movie.” Greg raised an eyebrow, but nodded as the other man played the film.

As their movie watching experiences went, they heard more of the movie than they saw. And after it was over, even though it was only early evening, they lay in bed together, their noses brushing against each other and their lips pressed together more times than they weren’t. The kisses trailed across each other’s face from their nose, to their cheeks, their jaws, and back to their lips. It was a wonderful night full of joy and affection. Then Mycroft stopped kissing Greg long enough to give him the envelope.

Greg tore into it and scanned the page.

My dear Gregory,

Normally, I am not one for soppy messages and letters of affection, but as I have said many times before, you are the exception to every rule. So here you are, my very first Valentine’s Day message, for my very first Valentine.

When you first asked me to dinner, I was very perplexed by the entire notion. Why would anyone want to have dinner with me, especially someone as delightfully charming and handsome as the best Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard?

But then the relationship kept evolving and improving, until I finally worked up the nerve to ask you to be my boyfriend. And what a night that was!

You have made me an extremely happy man, Gregory, and I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for us as a couple. Although I may not understand affairs of the heart, I understand one thing: I absolutely adore your company and you, and I do believe I have one more gift for you besides that red velvet delight in the kitchen.

If you are not averse to it, I am ready for the world to know about us, the consequences be damned. History cannot define us, and our relationship isn’t predicated upon social norms. Apologies for the rambling, but with your consent, I believe we should let our friends and family know. Whether that is in-person or via social media outlets, I have no preference. But I am tired of keeping you, my most brilliant boyfriend, a secret from everyone.

Happy Valentine’s Day, my dear Gregory. You have stolen my heart with your charm and charisma, and there is nothing that compares to the feeling of warmth and joy that you fill me with every single time you cross my mind.

Most sincerely yours,

Mycroft H.

Greg finished the letter and looked up at him. “Of course I’m okay with it, Mycroft. Let’s do it right now.” He grinned and rolled over, grabbing his phone from the table on his side of the bed. Mycroft did the same, altering his relationship status from the single it had been all the years he had had the account to “in a relationship.” It might have just been a silly social tradition, but seeing those words on his profile sent a wave of adoration for the Detective Inspector pouring over Mycroft Holmes, who leaned sideways and kissed Gregory Lestrade just as both of their phones started blowing up with notifications from family, friends, and colleagues.

Tags below the cut! Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged! Or untagged. Thank you for reading~

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Dead Bear Walking - Gusjay Gupta
Dead Bear Walking - Original G-String AKA Crowd Pleasa
The Amazing Psych-Man & Tap-Man, Issue 2 - Watson Williams
Shawn, Interrupted - Suggs
Indiana Shawn and the Temple of the Kinda Crappy, Rusty Old Dagger - Brutal Hustler
Heeeeere’s Lassie - Fellatio Del Toro
Santabarbaratown - Sh'Dynasty
Santabarbaratown 2 - Gurn Blanston
Juliet Takes a Luvvah - Immaculate Conception
100 Clues - Domo Arigato
Right Turn or Left for Dead- Yarnis Gustafson
Juliet Wears the Pantsuit - Blue Ivy Carter
Santa Barbarian Candidate - Bill Ofrights
Dead Air - Vijay Armitraj
Dead Air - Django Unchained
No Trout About It - Burton Trout
No Trout About It - Bad News Marvin Barnes
Psych: The Musical - Lil’ Wayne
S.E.I.Z.E. the Day - Trending Ontwitter
Remake A.K.A. Cloudy… With a Chance of Improvement - Robert “Booooooooooob” Jones

In the Season 8 episode Cog Blocked Gus took the lead and came up with some names for himself. Here’s the list of names he told the waitress at the Buena Vista Lounge:

Dr. Alan Champion
Angela Bennett
Jack Devlin
Jason Bourne
Jack Bauer
Tony Stark
Billy Elliott
Ferris Bueller
Edward Scissorhands
Hans Solo
Hans Landa
Han-Na Montana
Mr. Popper
Mr. Bee
Mr. Ripley
Mr. Deeds
Mr. Pink
Mr. White
Mr. Brown
Mr. Blonde
Mr. T
Dr. T
Dr. Jekyll
Dr. Phibes
Dr. Evil
Dr. Horrible
Dr. Dolittle
Frodo
Gandalf
Bilbo
Neo
Morpheus
Trinity
Simba
Zazu
Ross
Chandler
Joey
Jerry
George
Elaine
Kramer
Kirk
Spock
Picard
Data

Repetitive Nicknames

Although originally appearing in Spellingg Bee, Gus has frequently been referred to having a SuperSniffer. Other such episodes are Shawn (and Gus) of the Dead, Earth, Wind, and… Wait for It, and Shawn and Gus in Drag (Racing). Shawn has referred to Gus as Magic Head in different episodes such as Shawn vs. The Red Phantom and Meat Is Murder, But Murder Is Also Murder.

On several occasions Gus’ name gets misspelled or mispronounced such as in Shawn (and Gus) of the Dead, and Not Even Close… Encounters.

—  List of Gus’ Nicknames [http://psychusa.wikia.com/wiki/List_of_Gus’_Nicknames]

I was sitting in snow and taking pics from my tea cup, I noticed a group of girls in my age giggling around and one of them was staring at my chest for like 2 minutes so I took my earbuds of and asked If she wants to say something and she said “no, I just noticed your I Am SHER Locked shirt” and asked if I’m in Tumblr then said “not a huge fan but that fandom is beyond insane isn’t it?”

So in reality Sherlock Fandom has repetition but as lunatics apparently.

TBB: You can clearly see Johns pin-number is also “Sher-locked”

Some people: This is just dump conspiracy bullshit. The numbers could mean everything else

TFP: Sherlock finally finds the distress call from his 7 years old sister, literally 30 later, when he decipher the fake death-dates on the 200 years old gravestones in the yard of his parents house.

Some people: Oh, this is so brillant. So clever. Sherlock is amazing. And those little details. Never expected that!

… Tell me again: How was a 7 year old girl able to engrave fake-death dates in hundred years old gravestones? And why noone notice it?