Oh Thank God, I Thought I Was Weird.

OMFG, ROFL! I’m dying. I’m dead.

Roses are red, that much is true, but violets are purple, not fucking blue.

tenderest lines in bbc sherlock: 

“i never guess.” “yes, you do. what are you so happy about?”

“take my card.”

“feeling better?”

“uh, milk. we need milk.” “i’ll get some.” “really?” “really.” “and some beans, then?” “mmm.”

“that…thing that you, uh, that you did. that, um, you offered to do. that was, um…good.”

“somebody loves you.”

“look at them. they all care so much. do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?” “all lives end, all hearts are broken. caring is not an advantage, sherlock.”

“i am sorry. forgive me. merry christmas, molly hooper.”

“this is low tar.” “well, you barely knew her.” 

“merry christmas, mycroft.” “and a happy new year!”

“are you sure tonight’s a danger night?” “no, but then i never am. you have to stay with him, john.”

“he’s sherlock. how will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?”

“shame on you, john watson.” “shame on me?” “mrs. hudson leave baker street? england would fall.”

“so she’s alive, then? how are we feeling about that?” “happy new year, john.”

“my brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. what might we deduce about his heart?” “i don’t know.” “neither do i. but initially, he wanted to be a pirate.”

“i don’t have friends. i’ve just got one.”

“sentiment?” “sentiment.”

“ready?” “yes.”

“you look sad. when you think he can’t see you.”

“sherlock, i don’t want the world believing-” “that i’m what?” “a fraud.”

“no, i know you’re for real.” “100 percent?” “well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time.”

“you’re wrong, you know? you do count. you’e always counted and i’ve always trusted you. but you were right. i’m not okay.” “tell me what’s wrong.” “molly, i think i’m going to die.” “what do you need?” “if i wasn’t everything that you think i am, everything that i think i am, would you still want to help me?” “what do you need?” 

“please, will you do this for me?” “do what?” “this phone call, it’s my note. it’s what people do, don’t they? leave a note?” “leave a note when?” “goodbye, john.”

“i’m a doctor, let me come through. let me come through, please. he’s my friend. he’s my friend, please.”

“you told me once that you weren’t a hero. um, there were times i didn’t even think you were human, but let me tell you this: you were the best man the most human human being that i’ve ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. so there. i was so alone and i owe you so much.“

“i’m not lonely, sherlock.” “how would you know?”

“i hope you’ll be very happy, molly hooper. you deserve it.”

“please john, forgive me for all the hurt i caused you.”

“look, i find it difficult. i find it difficult, this sort of stuff.” “i know.” “you were the best and the wisest man that i have ever known. yes, of course i forgive you.”

“oh, those things you said- such sweet things! i never knew you cared!”

“i asked you for one more miracle. i asked you to stop being dead.” “i heard you.”

“i mean, who leaves a wedding early?”

“into battle.”

“i thanked him for the trust he placed in me and indicated that i was, in some ways, very close to being…moved by it.”

“you- you mean-” “yes.” “i’m your…best…” “man.” “-friend?” “yeah, of course you are. of course you’re my best friend.”

“the point i’m trying to make is that i am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet. i am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful, and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. so if i didn’t understand i was being asked to be best man, it is because i never expected to be anybody’s best friend. certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being i have ever had the good fortune of knowing.”

“john, i am a ridiculous man, redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship.”

“what’s wrong? what happened? why are you all doing that? john? did i do it wrong?” “no, you didn’t. come here.”

“clever?” “i’d say so.” “you would? am i important?” “to some people.”

“not you! not you! not you! you. it’s always you. john watson, you keep me right.”

“we wouldn’t do that, would we- you and me? we would never do that to john watson.”

“how dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with? and how dare you betray the love of your friends?”

“human error.”

“hello, redbeard. they’re putting me down too, now. it’s no fun, is it?”

“john will cry buckets and buckets. it’s him that i worry about the most.”

“your loss would break my heart.” “what the hell am i supposed to say to that?”

“oh, sherlock. what have you done?”

“john, there’s something i should say, i’ve meant to say always and then never have. since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, i might as well say it now. sherlock is actually a girl’s name.”

“you’ve been reading john’s blog. the story of how you met.”

“wherever i find him, whatever back alley or doss house, there will always be a list.”

“there’s always the two of us. don’t you read the strand?”

“since when do you call me john?” “you’d be surprised.” “no, i wouldn’t.”

“sherlock. promise me?”

“doctor watson? look after him, please?”

“you just like this dog, don’t you?” “well, i like you.”

“your life is not your own. keep your hands off it, do you hear me?”

“you can keep your scars.”

“well, that’s interesting.” “what is?” “the way you think.” “superbly?” “sweetly.” “i’m not sweet, i’m just high.”

“he’s not about thinking, not sherlock. no, no. he’s more emotional, isn’t he?” 

“i’m gonna make a deduction.” “oh, okay, that’s good.” and if my deduction is right, you’re gonna be honest, and tell me, okay?” “happy birthday.” “thank you, john. that’s…very kind of you.” 

“it’s okay.” “it’s not okay.” “no. but it is what it is.” 

Whoa. Dude.

Most teenagers pull their phones out of their pockets to check the time. We are reverting to the era of pocket watches.

Lena Luthor: *literally said like two syllables through a screechy radio on a crashing airplane*

Kara: IT'S LENA!

Mon El: *says a whole sentence without any background noise and is standing right in front of Kara*

Kara: Excuse me whomst the fork are you?

Tru dat

Scrolling down Tumblr in a public area is like playing russian roulette. You may be safe with one post but you have no idea if the next will be some gay porn. 

WANT.

Lena Luthor, actual cinnamon roll.

other people: after work I'm going out with friends and this weekend I'm going hiking with ten people and then going to a concert and just like chilling with my buddies

me: after work I plan on melting. melting into my bed. becoming bed in the short time I have before I must re-engage in human contact. weekends are extended melts. being a person for more than 40 hours a week is beyond my capabilities. melting is my capabilities.

Watching them kiss just might be his division

#GIVE THEM A SPINOFF