tea and murders

it is now canon that Baze ‘35000 rounds of firepower’ Malbus not only uses a gun that is explicitly made to be mounted on a vehicle not a human, but also STOLE said gun from the Imperial troops stationed on Jedha.

I have never felt more alive.

anonymous asked:

LMFAO apparently the reason Lucas Film fired the Han Solo directors was because their brand of humor wasn't appropriate for the Han Solo movie, bullshit! So humor in a Han Solo movie isn't appropriate but using Finn as a decoy protagonist and even letting him spend an entire movie with the Skywalker lightsaber and then shoving him to the side and not even letting him become force-sensitive or a jedi is appropriate? Fuck Kathyleen Kenndey, get her out of there so Star Wars can be good again.

anonymous asked:

WHERE are the fics in which John has to explain to Sherlock that he wanted to bang his sister because I swear he would have had to have told him before Sherrinford lol

“So the woman I met as Faith—you’re saying that was my long lost sister?”

“That’s what she said, yes.”

“And she was pretending to be your therapist, as well?  Fascinating.”

“Yeah.  Plus she was also…”  John trailed off.  


“Do you want some tea?  I could murder a cuppa right now.”

Sherlock frowned.  "You were going to say something.  Something about this person…  Eurus.  She was also…  what?“

"Nothing.  It’s nothing.  In fact, I’ve forgotten.”

“Or should I say ‘whom’?  Did she have yet another disguise?”

John shook his head. “Couldn’t have. Impersonating three separate people, just to get close to us?  That’d just be silly.”  John rocked back and forth on his heels, his hands shoved innocently into his pockets. Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

“You’re hiding something. Why?”

“Just forget it.”

“Who else could Eurus possibly have disguised herself as?  Neither of us associate with many people, and the ones we do, we’ve known for a long time. She can’t have been impersonating Molly or Mary or Mrs Hudson.”

“No, certainly not.”

“And we don’t know any other women.”


Sherlock stared long and hard at John, clearly deducing every single thread, button, or smudge on his body. John squirmed.  

Suddenly Sherlock let out a gasp.

“Oh, here it is,” said John, covering his face with one hand.

“The woman on the bus!  Your affair.”  Sherlock stared into the distance, the full horror of the situation seeming to dawn on him by degrees.  "John.  You cheated on Mary…  with my sister.

John sighed and sank into his chair. "It was only texting!  I swear.”

Sherlock slumped into his own chair, looking dazed.

“My sister.”  He quirked an eyebrow at John. “So…  ”


“Is she a lot like me?  In any specific ways?”

“Oh, Christ.  No one’s ever going to believe I’m not in love with you, are they?”


E: Hey Ozzie, I go in dry and come out wet.  The longer I’m in, the stronger i get. What am I?
O: …
E: A tea bag, Oswald dear.
O: Oh…Did you like it by the way? I stole it from that overpriced tea shop downtown.
E: Delicious, Ozzie, delicious!

lots of credit for this dumb idea has to go to @therearenofriendshipsinuno because I honestly don’t remember which one of us came up with it but I know it definitely wouldn’t have existed without her

“Ryan! Can we sell your mask, Ryan?”

Gavin flops down on the couch beside him, looking hopeful.

Ryan looks up from his book to stare at him. “My - what? Of course you can’t sell my mask. Why the hell would you want to?”

“Not your actual mask,” Gavin says. He has that particularly obnoxious tone to his voice that says you’re not following his ideas fast enough and he’s already bored explaining it to you. “Replicas!”

“And again I find myself asking, why?”

“Because people love you, Ryan!” Gavin throws his arms up in the air. Ryan wonders about the last time he’s slept. “People love the Fake AH Crew!”

Ryan raises an eyebrow at him. “People are terrified of the Fake AH Crew.”

Gavin just scoffs. “The boring ones do, yeah. But there’s like, a whole underground culture of fans. We have fans! There’s a whole website about it, with messageboards and pages about each of us. And everyone has, like, a favourite member.” Gavin grins at him devlishly. “You’re a big favourite.”

That is… a lot of information Ryan doesn’t know what to do with. Instead, he says “I thought you were supposed to be working on the virus we want to plant on Shadels’ computer, not trolling the internet.”

Gavin waves a hand impatiently. “The virus is done, the trolling came after because I was too wired to sleep.”

There it is. Ryan finds himself vaguely wondering if he should spike Gavin’s tea with nyquil and asks “how long ago was that, exactly?”

“Look, that’s not important, right? I’m trying to say we should sell merch!”

Definitely spiking his tea. “…merch. Of… a murderous gang.”

Gavin nods, clearly pleased that Ryan is, apparently, on the same page. He throws his arms out wide. “Of our gang! And I think we should start with your mask! Your fans will eat that up.”

“Okay, aside from that fact that a known serial killer should absolutely not have fans, you realise what a bad idea that is, right?” Ryan steels himself against Gavin’s puppy eyes as he physically deflates. “No, seriously, Gavin. My mask is my identifier. It’s my image. You really think people are going to be intimidated by it when every 15 year old tween with a weird obsession is wearing one?”

“Awww, but Ryan!” Gavin sidles up next to him so he can lean on his shoulder and looks up at him with - yup, there they are - sad puppy dog eyes. “Don’t you wanna see an army of little Vagabonds running around?”

“Dear god, no. That sounds terrifying.” Gavin looks, if possible, even sadder, and Ryan panics. “Uh, you want some tea?” He tries to stand but Gavin just holds onto his arm. He’s a twig next to Ryan’s more muscled build, and they both know he would never be able to actually hold Ryan still against his will. But, as always, Ryan relents and leans back against the couch with a sigh.

He did not used to be this easy to manipulate. Fucking brits and their stupid big eyes and nice hair and sexy accents.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal,” Ryan starts, and Gavin immediately perks up. “First, you have some tea and get some damn sleep - “ Gavin groans, like a kid being told it’s his bedtime, but Ryan continues over him, “ - and after, we can maybe find something… else, to sell to our weirdo fans.”

“Not the mask?”

“Definitely not the mask,” Ryan says firmly.

Gavin seems to consider this for a moment, before finally letting go of Ryan’s arm and nodding. “Fine. Deal.”

Ryan is relieved and stands, determined to make Gavin that tea. He strides towards the kitchen and Gavin follows on his heels. “Hey Ryan?”

“Yeah Gav?”

“What are your thoughts on selling shirts with your face paint design on them?”

“My - Gavin, no one even sees the face paint!”

“Well then why do you bloody put it on every time?!”

Ryan desperately tries to remember where they keep the Nyquil.