RDJ’s doing a deep gravelly voice holyshit??? My ovaries can’t handle this????? Stop it you’re supposed to be a fluffy playful kitten who’s only incidentally sexy, not a tomcat turning on the Sex Voice twenty-four-seven???
Also, I love how Holmes is all ‘fancy almost-British accent’ but then the only retort he can think of is “YOU wear a jacket.”
You don’t blame your husband for what he said? Yes I do. I said to my husband that those words are very unappropriate. Plus, he said them on a bus. Disgusting. This is not the man I married. Well, have you forgiven your husband? (x)
i am Supremely excited for my hysto but every time i see how hard it is for other people to get hystos w/o having kids/being of a certain age n the fact that it took like, nothing, to convince my dr to let me have one i get really Wary
bc he knows i have epilepsy and ASD and it’s very, hm, mmm, i wonder why i might be a much more acceptable candidate to making having biological kids near impossible
Let’s get one thing clear: he was still loud as fuck. And
annoying. And so… British. He and his mates
would watch football and have a
rousing, jolly good time while Emma was just trying to sort through records to
figure out if this bail-skipping douchebag might be living in his old
But it was OK. They had a signal for that, she and Killian.
One loud knock followed by three in rapid succession meant if you don’t fucking quiet down I might murder you and make it look
like an accident. So she knocked and he called back, “sorry, love!” and
suddenly the chuckles weren’t so loud and Emma didn’t feel like she was on the damn soccer field and she
finished up her research and went straight to bed.
But that’s not what all
the nights were like. No, more often than not Killian Jones, annoying British
male-model looking neighbor, would insert himself into her evening, even
through a wall.
She’d be sitting at her computer, browsing Facebook and
Twitter and Pinterest and all other manners of social time-sucks when she’d
hear a bellow from the middle of the neighbor’s study.
“Swan! Are you over there?”
“Yes, Killian, I know damn well you heard me flush my toilet
five minutes ago.”
“Well, obviously, but I was trying to be polite,” he’d shouted with as little
politeness as he could muster (all in jest, of course, all in jest, he’d say).
“What do you want? I’m busy.”
“Captain America or Captain Hook, love?”
Her mind drummed up images of Chris Evans, all muscle and
hair and piercing blue eyes, standing next to a cartoon with a perm and a bad
mustache. That’s hardly a contest.
“Um, might I ask why exactly?” she’d shouted back.
sign me the FUCK up 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌th 👌 ere👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my selｆ 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠＯOOＯOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit