let’s be honest this is pretty much the entire ship
hi im a woman living in a post apocalyptic environment/desert island on a tv show and i have the smoothest armpits u have ever seen
hi im a woman in medieval times and my eyebrows r perfect and I have no leg hair
hello im a viking woman in a movie and i have a thin and trim waist and a huge rack and perfect eyeliner
Hi I’m a women in a world without power and I wake up with perfect curled hair
oh god the age of ultron teasing has begun
The three stages.
|—||I disagree with you but ill let you have this one because I don’t feel like debating anymore with your simple ass (via stay-ocean-minded)|
This is so perfect
Come on, Sammy! Let’s have a beer… talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game. (x)
I tried to draw Sherlock expressing his feelings for John, but he wouldn’t cooperate.
Sherlock was sprawled out on the sofa when John made his way down from his room.
"Well, I’m off, got a date with Andrea," John called as he popped his head into the room.
"Is that the secretary?" Sherlock asked from his position on the sofa.
"Yep," John answered cheerfully, causing Sherlock to groan.
"Why would you go out with her? She’s boring," Sherlock complained, sounding petulant and bored.
"You haven’t even met her, how could you possibly think she’s boring?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh please," Sherlock scoffed as he sat up, "30 year old secretary in a minor firm either means she’s dedicated to something there or she has little to no higher aspirations, probably the latter. If so, then she probably only went through higher education because it was the thing to do and then immediately got herself a simple job so as to have some time to find herself a nice man who will marry her, move with her to the country and help her raise her 2.5 children and a dog," he finished with a sneer.
"Well I’m hardly going to ask her to marry me on the first date," John replied, a little nonplussed at the short rant Sherlock had just made.
"But why would you even go out with her in the first place?" Sherlock complained. "And what if we get something from Lestrade? You always end up abandoning your dates when we get a case anyways," Sherlock insisted, trying to look earnest.
"That’s because when I’m not there you risk getting yourself killed more often then not," John retorted.
"No," John interrupted, apparently having run out of patience. "Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. If Greg calls with a case then maybe, and I mean MAYBE, I’ll end up making my excuses but I’m hardly going to stop dating because you’ve suddenly decided to start acting like a jealous boyfriend,” he snapped angrily before running a hand over his face, trying to reign in his annoyance.
"Look," he started, trying to keep his voice calm, but one look at Sherlock’s face stopped him in his tracks. For a split second, Sherlock expression was one of such hurt and betrayal that John would have almost thought he’d imagined it, if not for the slight flush still adorning the other man’s cheeks.
"Sherlock?" John asked softly, not quite sure what to make of this sudden change only to furrow his brows when Sherlock mumbled something too quietly for him to hear. "What was that?" he asked.
"As I was trying to say before I was so rudely interrupted," Sherlock replied sullenly, causing John to snort at the man who insisted on interrupting everyone, "since these women that you date are all boring and not fitting for you at all then perhaps you should just date me," he finished in a tone that could have been called arrogant had it not been for the deepening flush on his cheeks.
"Wait, what?" John choked out, certain he’d heard wrong.
"I said that we should date," Sherlock replied, looking less sure of himself.
"But… But why? I mean-" he started before Sherlock could reply, "that first night, at Angelo’s, you said you weren’t interested in dating because you were married to The Work.”
"But that’s the point!" Sherlock exclaimed. "Don’t you see John? It’s not just My Work any more, it’s Ours. You’ve become such an integral part of what I do, of what we do, that I thought… I thought maybe…” he trailed off, leaving a rather awkward silence to fall between them.
Finally, after an eternity that had actually lasted only seconds, John cleared his throat, getting Sherlock’s attention.
"Well go get dressed then," he said, looking somewhere over Sherlock’s shoulder.
"Dressed?" Sherlock asked, confused at the apparent non sequitur.
"Well yeah," John replied, breaking into a grin. "I mean if I went through all the trouble of getting dressed up to go on a date, then I’m damn well going to go on a date. Just let me text Andrea to cancel. You in the mood for anything specific?" John asked absently as he fished through his pockets to pull out his phone, only to have it yanked from his hand. "Hey-" he started, only to be interrupted by a pair of lips descending on his own. A pair of very soft, very nice lips actually, that left much too quickly for his taste.
"So," Sherlock said, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly, before asking with a small grin, "dinner?"
Raise you hand if you ever fangirlied in the theater after seeing a preview for something you’ve been waiting for
play it cool, man