elliot-the-puff:

I think I just might be a wolf in sheep’s clothes…

Took the sorting test again and it gave me Slytherin… then a third time gave me a choice between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Answered truthfully all three times.

What the hell am I?? A Slytherpuff???

(Can’t decide if this is ooc or not… probably will be cause I still want to keep Elliot a true Puff. Well, I guess Pinot will represent my Slyther-half, lol.)

I won’t be reblogging too much from my Pottermore tumblr (unless they’re more finished works) but this is more “about me” than “about Elliot” so I guess I’ll spam your dashes with it.

Hallooooo! Any Puffs want to join me in the common room?


I know most of my followers are Sherlock fans but for those of you who are also Potter fans and are on Pottermore, I’m planning to draw a picture for the Hufflepuff common room (which is depressingly bare right now…)

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Problem is, I need some other Puffs to join my Pottermore self in the picture.

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Soooo, if you have a PM account and am a Puff, come join me! I’m looking for 2-3 male Puffs to balance out the 2-3 female Puffs I already have in mind. If you have a female character and don’t mind genderbending, that’s ok too.

Send me a message through my ask box or just answer this post. If you don’t have a drawing of your character, be sure to include a thorough physical description of your character. Height, eye color, hair color, hair style, outfit (if you have something specific in mind), etc. I will pick the 2 or 3 that sound the most interesting to draw.

So you think you know what makes a Hufflepuff?

Reblogging from my personal blog because this matters to me.

the-improbable-truth:

I’m sick and tired of how misunderstood Hufflepuffs are and how we get such a bad rep, so consider for a moment, these points…

  • Hufflepuffs are accepting. As the Sorting Hat says, “Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest, and taught them all she knew.” Now before you call us leftovers, think for a second how wonderful this makes us. We’re not racist, sexist, prejudiced in anyway, but rather, we accept everyone. Try to tell me how that’s a bad thing without making yourself look like an ass.
  • Hufflepuffs are brave and loyal. Sounds like a Gryffindor right? That’s cause we have a lot in common with the Gryffs. The difference in our bravery is the fact that we think before we act while Gryffs tend to be impulsive. Before you say anything about how Hufflepuffs are cowards, reread the end battle of Book 7. You’ll realize that Ernie McMillan, Prefect of Hufflepuff, is the first guy to say that he will fight for Hogwarts and stand by Harry’s side. Cedric and Tonks were not alone in their courage. Also, our numbers in the final battle beat out even Ravenclaw. So don’t you ever DARE call us cowards!
  • Hufflepuffs are humble. This is the main reason we’re so misunderstood. We have all the good qualities that are so admired in Gryffs but no one notices because we’re not as showy. But how is that a bad thing? There was a person who said that Hufflepuffs were true heroes because they are like Sam in Lord of the Rings, brave, loyal, strong, will fight for their loved ones to the bitter end, and all without the need for validation or praise.
  • Hufflepuffs are good. It is not a coincidence that we have never produced a dark wizard. That’s something even Gryffindors can’t say.
  • Hufflepuffs believe in nurture over nature. We are known to be patient and believe that anyone can achieve greatness through practice and hardwork. How is that ever a bad thing? We are not elitist. If someone is born ungifted, that shouldn’t mean that they’re doomed to mediocrity for the rest of his/her life. We believe that all it takes is heart and willpower.
So, in conclusion, before you write us off as anything, do your research!
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PUFF PRIDE!


Replies

whiffling10 reblogged your photoset: “John,” said Sherlock earnestly, “if I — if I’m…

Ok, haven’t read the fic (and won’t - see my longstanding aversion to AUs), but seemed a necessary part of the…

Ah actually, there is no real fic behind this. It’s just an AU in my head and I only wrote the last three lines: “At the time, John had not realized the full import of those words. Sherlock did not live to be 100. But John would be haunted by the memories even when he was 99.” Everything else is taken from A. A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh with just the names changed: John = Pooh / Sherlock = Christopher Robin

 jawnlockiarty reblogged your photoset“John,” said Sherlock earnestly, “if I — if I’m…

Not to ruin this or anything, but John is older than Sherlock..

Lol I know. I forgot to include it in the AU explanation when I first posted it and by the time I fixed it, there were already 2 or 3 reblogs. You must’ve reblogged one of those >u<;

The new description is as follows:  ”AU:  Where Sherlock and John meet as kids and become the best of friends, and Sherlock does not fake his Reichenbach death but actually sacrifices his life for John’s. Also, in this version, Sherlock’s a year older than John vs. Doyle’s version where John is 2 years older than Sherlock if I remember correctly (And for those of you who couldn’t tell, the quotes are from Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne’s original book version)”

(I’d tell everyone to add that into their reblog but I doubt many people would get this message. Man, you guys reblog too fast!)


Bahhh, thank you guys >u<

I totally didn’t expect that little doodle gif to get so many notes. Lol.

And and, to all my old and new followers…

Glad you all enjoy my Reichenangst Trolling!

I seriously troll on peoples feels.

One second, it’s hilarity and the next…BOOM.

Reichenangst.

“John,” said Sherlock earnestly, “if I — if I’m not quite —” he stopped and tried again — “John, whatever happens, you will understand, won’t you?”

At the time, John had not realized the full import of those words.

Sherlock did not live to be 100.

But John would be haunted by the memories even when he was 99.

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AU: Where Sherlock and John meet as kids and become the best of friends, and Sherlock does not fake his Reichenbach death but actually sacrifices his life for John’s. Also, in this version, Sherlock’s a year older than John vs. Doyle’s version where John is 2 years older than Sherlock if I remember correctly (And for those of you who couldn’t tell, the quotes are from Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne’s original book version)

I haven’t been posting much lately because… guess which site I finally checked out?? Pottermore is now officially on the list of things that are taking over my life. If you have an account, feel free to add me!

Anyways, I’ve started a new blog dedicated to everything in the HP universe, but mainly focusing on the story of Elliot Brie (my Pottermore self/chara). I’ll be doodling and drawing hp comics (mostly PM inspired) for that blog. So if Potter is your cup of tea, come check it out!

elliot-the-puff:

Presenting… my Pottermore self and her backstory!

Click HERE to read the full version. Or read on for the short version…

(edit: I made this version even shorter… with some comic relief)

  • Username: MahoganyBlade23834 (feel free to add me :> )
  • Name: Elliot Brie, nicknamed “El”
  • House: Hufflepuff
  • Year: 5
  • Personality: Friendly, loyal, protective (of everyone but herself), trustworthy, loves food and comfy things, and is a bit oblivious. 
  • Relationship with a guy named “Pinot”:  Pinot Wentworth comes from a respectable, pureblood, Slytherin family. In other words, he’s your typical smug bastard. He’s one year older than El but they end up in the same Defense Against the Dark Arts class cause El’s just that badass at dueling. Pinot is picked to duel her and he’s like, “WTF man?? I don’t want to waste my bamf-ness on this midget of a Hufflepuff.” El’s all like, “I give no fucks” and sends him flying across the room before he even has a chance to react. At first, Pinot’s all like, “Fucking bitch!! I will ‘Voldemort’ you into a dead headmaster!” but no matter how hard he tries, he still can’t win against El. Then, after a while, Pinot’s feelings start to change and suddenly one day, he’s like “Bullocks! I think I might like her…a little.” And “a little” turns into “a lot” and “a lot” into “damn, I can’t get enough of her/him” until finally, they become kind of like an old married couple. ….and the story goes on from there.

I’ll be developing El’s story on this tumblr with doodles and comics and such. Also, apologies in advance for any mistakes with the Potter world (ie: the totally inaccurate robes). It’s been half a decade since I read the books.

And a big thank you to all the new followers.

This is totally a “quality” blog…

askmissmolly:

(open in new tab for better quality)

Haven’t posted much here so uh… have a reblog from my Ask Molly blog for now >_<”

I’ll post something worthwhile on this blog soon.

I’m just churning out so much crap art lately, aren’t I?

I should probably wait until I have the patience for decent art…

Ok I’ll stop now.

Inspired by this hilarious message I found in my inbox this morning:

@largerthanlifeus: You win the internet!

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【A Hobbit-Sherlock crossover crack-fic to explain the pic:】


Bilbo Baggins of Bag End had always been a respectable hobbit who minded his own business and led a quiet life. He ate five meals a day (seven when he was particularly hungry, as hobbits are known to get), smoked pipeweed as well as any other hobbit in the Shire, and got on surprisingly well with most of his neighbors. He was an all around well-liked hobbit and whenever young hobbits in their mischievous tweens needed lecturing, Bilbo would always be held up as an exemplar of proper hobbit behavior.

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Unbeknownst to his fellow hobbits, however, Bilbo had begun to feel quite peculiar of late. He was visited by the strangest dreams at night, dreams of Big Folk the likes of which he had never heard of or seen. One man in particular seemed to be at the center of all his dreams—A tall, thin, pale man, with tousled black curls, keen blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and an angular nose. He wore a long dark coat, the collar of which he had a habit of flipping up (a habit that Bilbo found exceedingly and inexplicably annoying), and a blue scarf. This man addressed Bilbo as “Jaawwn,” a name which the hobbit was altogether unfamiliar with and yet felt oddly comfortable to assume.   

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One day, as Bilbo was taking an afternoon stroll through his garden, he heard a rustling in one of his berry bushes followed by a frustrated snort and squeal. Quite alarmed, the hobbit had half a mind to run and call for help, for hobbits are not fond of strange, unexplained things. But before he could decide what to do, a fat pink foot wriggled out of the bush, followed by another pink foot and another aggravated squeal.               

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“Why it’s a pig!” Bilbo cried in surprise and amusement, “Of all the things that could happen to a hobbit on this side of the Brandywine, a pig stuck in a berry bush!”               

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He hurried over to the bush and freed the poor creature from its unlikely trap. The pig sniffed his savior gratefully with his wet snout and gave a happy, watery snort.               

“Well be off then, you foolish thing,” Bilbo said, merrily, and with that he turned to go back into his hole.               

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But the hobbit had not taken more than four steps before he felt the familiar wet snout pressed up against his left leg. With several unsuccessful shoos, Bilbo continued up the garden path towards his hole and, quickly opening his door, attempted to lock the pig out. Much squealing and snorting ensued. After an hour or so, the hobbit had no choice but let the insistent creature in.               

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“If I you make a mess of my beloved hole, I will throw you out no matter how much you snort or squeal, Mister Pig,” Bilbo said, resolutely. In his heart of hearts, though, he had already taken a curious liking to this berry-bush pig.               

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Within a few days, however, this pig proved to be an incorrigibly inconsiderate guest. It had a strange habit of bringing in dead animals, especially dismembered parts of dead animals, and left them lying in the most inconvenient of places. It also had a love for milk, which was quite odd for a pig, and its insatiable appetite forced Bilbo to have to buy milk almost once a day.               

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“Why am I always the one who gets the milk?” the hobbit sometimes asked indignantly, but all he ever received in response was a wet, amused snort.               

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And yet, despite all the trouble that Mister Pig caused, Bilbo had grown quite fond of him and had even knitted a scarf for him—a nice blue scarf, though why the color seemed to matter so much, the hobbit did not know.               

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The Sackville Bagginses had come by shortly after Bilbo had first stumbled upon Mister Pig and had inquired, quite rudely, if Bilbo had taken their pig. The pig was apparently to be roasted for Lucille’s upcoming birthday.               

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“No I have not taken your pig or any pig for that matter!” Bilbo said irritably, “Unlike you lot, the Bagginses of Bag End do not, have not, and will never be thieves of any sort! Good day.”              

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And with that, he shut the door quite firmly in his cousins’ faces.  

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The next day and the day after and still the day after that, the Sackville Bagginses came back, asking the same question and receiving the same answer from Bilbo. No matter how much they strained their eyes at each visit, they could not see anything stirring in Bag End, and after a week of persistent badgering, the Sackville Bagginses gave up their search for the lost pig.               

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“Well that’s that!” Bilbo said, triumphantly. The pig, clad in his blue scarf, waddled over and rubbed his wet snout affectionately against Bilbo’s leg. It snorted two happy, damp snorts and then let out the most curious squeal… A squeal that sounded vaguely like “Jaawwn.”  

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A week later, the pig disappeared, leaving only a few muddy footprints by the front door that seemed to spell the letters “S.H.” The very next day, a tall, old wizard clad all in grey arrived in the Shire.               

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“Would you like to accompany me on an adventure?” he asked. “There is a dragon who very much wishes to see you.”

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Lol. Don’t scrutinize the art or fic too much… both are half-assed cause I’m especially lazy today.

replies

orangekiwibird replied to your photoJust for fun. Crap sketches are crap… but I wonder…

hehehe Neil Caffrey/Matt Bomer + Peter Burke/Tim DeKay = <3 x infinity… SO @#^%-ing CUTE!

resulting in…

Goddammit. They ended this season on such a cliffhanger too! -rips out hairs-

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Egad!

I’m glad you’re all gullible enough to think this a quality blog!

I— I mean— thanks.

;)

Just for fun.

Crap sketches are crap… but I wonder if the characters are recognizable at least >.>

Also, this was going to be a continuous horizontal pic but tumblr’s annoying with sizing. And I wonder if you can tell that I got lazier and lazier L to R. Poor Jawn looks like utter shit. What is quality art?

Colors - April Smith

I’ll wear your colors my dear 

Until you’re standing right here 

Next to the one who adores you 

Whose heart is beating for you 

Like a lighthouse guides

A shipwrecked sailor safely from the sea

I’ll wear your colors til you come back home to me

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Train of thought: England goes to war again and John is called to serve. Sherlock, never knowing how to show his emotions, hides any signs of sadness over John’s imminent departure. He denies all feelings of loneliness, longing, etc. until John leaves. Then, in the privacy of his now empty rooms, Sherlock begins to mope. He eventually develops an attachment to everything that John used to wear and even starts to wear John’s jumpers because it brings him a curious sense of comfort. When John returns, he is greeted with a Sherlock dressed in one of his old sweaters, looking quite awkward because John’s clothes are much too loose for Sherlock’s lanky body. But John says nothing because he understands. Sherlock has missed him.


(…just a silly doodle for a silly thought)

The Sherbit: Unexpectedly spirited ‘holme’


“Your name—I remember it now. Your name is Sherlock Holmes.”


In which, Sherlock gets turned into Smaug and needs Hobbit!Watson to remember his real name to free both of them from the spell.


(My train of thought went something along the lines of: Smaug = dragon & dragon = Haku, Smaug = Cumberbatch & Cumberbatch = Sherlock, therefore Sherlock = Haku… yeeah I don’t think there’s anything I can’t crossover with Sherlock)

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And here’s little Mycroft floating down after them. He had a little too much cake.

Disclaimer: I totally traced the faces from Miyazaki’s Spirited Away (like you couldn’t tell…) but the hair and clothing alterations are my own.