oh and i'll see you lovelies later

  • leo *showing nico a meme*: ahah look at this
  • nico: what does that mean
  • leo: uhm... nothing, it's just funny
  • nico: how
  • leo: you see. there's this sentence on top, and the image under it that makes the text funny
  • nico: I still do not get it.
  • leo: oh. okay. so. it says... "when someone steals your food", and then the image of this cartoon character who is about to punch someone in the face
  • nico: so?
  • leo *takes a deep breath*: okay. I'll try again... you see this dude? he is very angry and he's reacting to people stealing their food. his facial expression is hilarous. don't you relate?
  • nico: no one ever tried to steal my food.
  • leo *blinks*: ... you know what nevermind
  • nico *hours later, in front of a camera, recording himself*: I knew that meme. I love it. I just like lo look at leo struggling.
Grandpa Jeff

Backstory: The group is playing a 13th Ages based system, and we had a quest to steal a painting from a king’s palace. It was decided that Loki, my character, was to sneak into the treasure room with my Invisibility Cloak while the rest of the party, save for a lawful good man who wanted to party the night away, created a distraction. After sneaking past the guards, I found myself in a maze, confronted by a guard.

Guard: *is standing in a doorway*

Me: *Rolls and misses to stab him in the throat*

Guard: *Looks around* Who’s there! Show yourself!

Me: *rolls to lie and passes with flying colors* I… am a SPOOKY GHOST!

Guard: AHHH, please, don’t kill me!

Me: I will not kill you, mortal, if you guard me to the treasure!

Guard: Okay… follow me.

Me: *follows*

Guard: What’s your name?

Me: Jeff?

Guard: Wait, Jeff? I had a great grandpa named Jeff!

Me: Guardy? My great grandson!?

Guard: GRANDPA! I can’t believe it’s really you!

Me: Yeeees….

Guard: So, where’d you hide the treasure


Me: Well. Death has made me forget many things…

Guard: Oh.

*we get to the treasure*

Guard: I leave you now, Grandpa.

Me: Thanks?

Later, the rest of the group is being chased by the city guard’s trolls through the maze I was in earlier. They bump into Guardy.

Guardy sees the trolls and starts running as well. We meet up and Guardy starts talking to me.

Me: Want to join us, kid?

Guardy: Yes, please!

Rest of the group: Did we just adopt a NPC as a pet?

🎶🎶When You Collect Records🎶🎶
  • Hipster: *moves dusty old boxes out of the way* Whoa, an old record player. It looks like it's in working order too! *runs outside*
  • Hipster: Yo, dad!
  • Dad: What?
  • Hipster: We're getting rid of all of poppop's stuff, right?
  • Dad: There's something you want, isn't there?
  • Hipster: There's this old stereo record player in the attic.
  • Dad: What do you need a record player for?
  • Hipster: My record collection.
  • Dad: I didn't even know they still made those things. Can't you just listen to music on your phone?
  • Hipster: Dad, there's a big difference between listening to music digitally and on record.
  • Dad: Fine, I don't wanna get into it with you right now. You can take the record player. You just have to get someone else to take it to your place for you. My truck's full.
  • Hipster: Thanks dad! *smooches dad on the cheek*
  • *later at hipster's apartment*
  • Friend: So, like Patch Adams ends with Patch Adams half-naked in front of a ton of people. I don't know if it was meant to be funny or like a weird sex thing, but like the movie was just a deeply disturbing character study. I can't stop thinking about it.
  • Hipster: That sounds boring. *unlocks door to apartment* Ta-da! Here it is! My new record player!
  • Friend: New? Looks fucking old to me, dude.
  • Hipster: Well, it is old. That's the appeal. And we're going to listen to the new Sufjan record on it.
  • Friend: Is that actually how you say Sufjan? Apparently, I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.
  • Hipster: Well, you won't after this record. There's an entire track where he just says his name for four minutes. It's amazing. *plays records*
  • Record Player: *coughs* Hello. Hello! Where am I? Doctor? Hello! Why is it so dark...............................Can I breathe? I can't breath. Oh god, I'm not breathing! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! I.....................................
  • Hipster: Uh, that's not Sufjan.
  • Friend: It totally isn't. Is it some guest vocalist? I like the new direction he's going in. No instruments or singing, and long stretches of silence. Very experimental.
  • Hipster: *stops record player* I think maybe we should do something else for now.
  • Friend: Fucking lame! I wanted to listen to more Sufjan.
  • *days later at the record store*
  • Hipster: Yo, I think the Sufjan Stevens record I bought from here might be some kind of mispress.
  • Store Clerk: Really? It's a pretty major album. I doubt there'd just be a mispress like that.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but listen to it. It's not Sufjan at all. It's some girl talking.
  • *hipster and clerk listen to a completely normal Sufjan Stevens album together*
  • Store Clerk: What are you talking about? This is definitely Sufjan Stevens.
  • Hipster: Okay, but it wasn't like that when I listened to it at home! I even listened to it with my friend and he heard the same thing!
  • Store Clerk: Maybe there's something wrong with your record player.
  • Hipster: Hmm, maybe there is.
  • *back at the apartment*
  • Hipster: *turns on record player and just listens*
  • Record Player: ...I'm awake again. Why did I black out? Did I even black out? God, I'm not breathing, but it doesn't matter. Why don't I need to breathe? Am I even alive?
  • Hipster: Can you hear me?
  • Record Player: Doctor. Doctor! DOCTOR! Why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything. Keep yourself together. It'll all make sense soon. Calm down. Just breathe deeply. Fuck, I can't breathe! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T BREATHE! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE HELP ME!
  • Hipster: *turns off record player* It's just a recording, I bet. I can't believe I talked to it like an idiot... *nervously turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: I blacked out again. I blacked out. For how long? Is there even time here? Hell. This is hell, right? Did I go to hell.........................................
  • Hipster: *listens to the record player for hours*
  • Record Player: Negative 6893 bottles of wine on the wall! Negative 6893 bottles of wine! Take one down, pass it around, Negative 6894 bottles of wine on the wall... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
  • Hipster: *keeps listening*
  • Record Player: Soul of Christ, make me holy, Body of Christ, be my salvation. God, please forgive me. I'm sorry for all of my sins. Please free me. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. Please.
  • Hipster: *still listening*
  • Record Player: FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! SHITTY DOCTOR! FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! *sobs intensely* FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYTHING! Please just let me go.
  • Hipster: *nervously walks up to record player and lightly taps on it*
  • Record Player: ...A knock. A KNOCK! PLEASE HELP ME! I'M STUCK! PLEASE! *record player begins shake violently*
  • Hipster: *backs away in fear*
  • Record Player: HELP! HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE, IF SOMEONE'S THERE, HELP ME! HELP ME! I'M STUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE!
  • Hipster: *unplugs record player*
  • Hipster: *gets hammer from the closet and begins to break apart record player*
  • Record Player: *drips red*
  • Hipster: W-What? *cracks front of record player open*
  • *rotting viscera falls from the record player*
  • Hipster: O-Oh... *stuffs viscera back into the record player and duct tapes over it*
  • Hipster: *turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: ...I can feel. It hurts. Why does it hurt now? Why does it hurt? Why? Why? Why? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? *spurts blood through it speakers and begins to gurgle*
  • Record Player: *hops forward* Please just let me go. Please... please. I'll do anything. I just want to see you again. I'm so sorry. This isn't what I asked for. I'm so sorry. *hops forward again and comes unplugged*
  • Record Player: *tips over, bleeding heavily onto the carpet*
  • Hipster: *silently cleans up the mess*
  • *some time later*
  • Hipster: *calls dad* Hey, dad. Oh, nothing. Uh, I just need to borrow your truck, If not tonight sometime this week. I just need to get rid of something. No, no, that's fine, I can do it myself. Yeah, tomorrow morning is perfect. Thanks Love you too. Bye.
  • *the next afternoon*
  • Dad: So, what did you need to get rid of this morning?
  • Hipster: Nothing important. Just some old junk... Dad, what kind of person was poppop?
  • Dad: Well, he was only the greatest man I've known in my life. Really caring, dedicated to his family. When you were born he loved you so much. He was a bit of a loner, though. It took a lot to get him to open up. Even around me and your grandmother. He was a bit like you. Always a huge music lover.
  • Hipster: I see. Was he ever a doctor?
  • Dad: That's a weird thing to ask. Nope. He hated doctors. Didn't trust modern medicine one bit. It's ironic. His cancer probably wouldn't have gotten to him if he did. But, your poppop was always so stubborn.
  • Hipster: Oh, okay then.
  • *some days later*
  • Friend: New carpet?
  • Hipster: Yup, old one was ugly wasn't it. It was time for a change.
  • Friend: That's what I've been telling you! I'm glad you finally came to your senses. What happened to your record player, though?
  • Hipster: That thing? I threw it away. It was busted.
  • Friend: That sucks. Are you gonna buy a new one?
  • Hipster: No.
  • Friend: But you won't have anything to play your records on.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but I buy records because I want to support the artists. They're not really for listening. Besides, lossless is better. FLAC is the future.
  • -team Taka visiting Konoha pt. 1-
  • Sakura: Okay, I have a shift at the hospital so I'll let the two of you talk alone. See ya later!
  • Sarada: Love you mama!
  • Karin: Bye Sakura!
  • -awkward silence-
  • Sarada: ..
  • Karin: ...
  • Sarada: So... you're really not my biological mom, right?
  • Karin: No! Oh gosh no. I only helped your mommy give birth to you. And I picked out your glasses when Sakura was worried why you haven't started reading yet.
  • Sarada: What relationship do we have, then?
  • Karin: I'm not good with children but... I could be your aunt! I'd love to be your aunt actually, you get to enjoy all the pleasures of spoiling a kid without having to push it out of your body, forever ruining your vagina in the process... (Sarada freezes)
  • Suigetsu: Never say never, that's my motto babe~
  • Karin: Shut up! All of this is your fault anyway!
  • Sarada: (still coping with the v-word) Mama suddenly doesn't seem so dirty.
  • Suigetsu: I wouldn't be so sure about that either kiddo, have you ever heard her and Sasuke-
  • Karin: (dragging him by the ear out of the room) I said shut up!
  • Lelouch: [staring at Suzaku intensely]
  • Suzaku: Lelouch?
  • Lelouch: I need to -- tell you --
  • Cecile: SUZAKU!!! Lloyd says it's urgent.
  • Lelouch: Who's that?
  • Suzaku: She's a soldier.
  • Cecile: Friends of yours?
  • Suzaku: [glances at Lelouch with this fond little smile before answering] Yes.
  • Cecile: I'm sorry, but I need to pull Suzaku away from you for awhile.
  • Suzaku: Uh...
  • Lelouch: Don't worry. I told you it's all right. That guy isn't going to come back here.
  • Suzaku: Right. See you then.
  • Nunnally: Please come again, Suzaku.
  • Suzaku: I will!
  • Lelouch: Suzaku! When you return, there's something that I want to...discuss. It's an important matter.
  • Suzaku: [with laughter in his voice] Uh oh. I'm nervous. I'll talk to you when I get back.
  • Cecile: I really don't mean to interrupt...
  • Suzaku: It's okay, Miss Cecile. Lelouch was just going to confess his love for me. He can do that later, no big deal.
  • Lelouch: !!!
  • Cecile: Oh my! That certainly sounds important though.
  • Lelouch: How did you--?!
  • Suzaku: Lelouch, you've been staring at me with heart eyes for over an hour straight. It wasn't hard.
  • Cecile: Maybe I should just leave for a little while. I'm sure this is more urgent than Lloyd's need.
  • Lelouch: Of course it is! Suzaku, I...
  • Suzaku: It's okay, Lelouch. I love you, too.
  • Cecile: I definitely shouldn't be here for this.
  • Nunnally: [forgotten doing some kind of sand art project]
  • Lelouch: If you return my feelings, Suzaku, then that's all I need for now. We can continue this 'conversation' later.
  • Suzaku: Yeah. I'll totally kiss you when I get back.
Victuuri on Boxing Day
  • Viktor: so want gifts aren't makeing the cut?
  • Yuri: oh, just my secret santa gift, someone got me a CD that says 'from your secret admirer,' but it's just someone screaming "Pork cutlet bowl" in Russian. I think it's just a joke from Yurio.
  • Viktor: *tearing up* I though you wanted to learn my native language...
  • Yuri: *thinking fast* No, it's not that...I was scared because I thought someone liked me other then you, because your not really my 'secret admirer' anymore, are you?
  • Viktor: *smiles* Really?
  • Yuri: *smiles as he puts the CD where everyone can see in on the mantel* Of course, I love you
  • Yuri: (thinking) I'll burn it later
American knowledge of the States, as known by an American
  • Alabama: everyone knows us best for being the most difficult about desegregation
  • Alaska: the biggest state and the most ignored-essentially Canada
  • Arizona: hot hot hot dry as hell ha ha ha this is hell
  • Arkansas: Little Rock Nine- also, we are not an extension of Kansas, like at all
  • California: LA, San Francisco, the most chill hippy liberals you'll ever meet mixed in with warring druglords, the richest people in the nation, homeless people sleeping on the sidewalk, and a flamboyant gay night scene
  • Colorado: we legalized weed and now ppl won't shut up about it
  • Connecticut: the c is silent asshole
  • Delaware: Delawhere?
  • Florida: old people, alligators, and an interesting blend of liberals and conservatives shooting swamp monsters
  • Georgia: somehow we're more racist than Alabama
  • Hawaii: lol school, what school
  • Idaho: fuck off and don't make fun of my name- also, potatoes
  • Illinois: stop illinoying me, haha- there's nothing here
  • Indiana: HOOSIER COLLEGE BASKETBALL, home of the angry religious road signs
  • Iowa: you fly over us sometimes when you're visiting California
  • Kansas: Wizard of Oz and the Westboro Baptist Church
  • Kentucky: yeah yeah go on, make your jokes about chicken but let's see you resist it bitch
  • Louisiana: parlez-vous français,salope now enjoy our fucking crawfish
  • Maine: lobsters and commercials about our famed lobster
  • Maryland: the most liberal conservatives you will ever meet
  • Massachusetts: boston tea party, boston massacre, we don't pronounce our r's and that's all anyone remembers
  • Michigan: we hate Ohio and most of us work for Ford, General Motors Or Chrysler
  • Minnesota: we're like Canadians but American
  • Mississippi: it takes like five different songs to remember how to spell our name
  • Missouri: our name sounds like misery because that's what it is to live here
  • Montana: montana, mountain, geh it?
  • Nebraska: half of our state is like Children of the Corn but with less activity
  • Nevada: Las Vegas and nothing else, literally nothing
  • New Hampshire: taxes are for communists
  • New Jersey: we're shaped like a dollar sign, also new york city is totally ours don't believe what anyone says
  • New Mexico: every one of us has seen a UFO and Spanglish is our official language
  • New York: we have more than one city you know
  • North Carolina: biscuists, sweet tea, south carolina is just a knockoff of us
  • North Dakota: lawnmower races, lol jackets are for the weak, "how are things" "eh, not so bad."
  • Ohio: shut up about Glee and we're not fucking iowa, cheap beer, and fuck CNN
  • Oklahoma: We can and will deep-fry anything we want, just try and stop us
  • Oregon: the Oregon trail game.
  • Pennsylvania: ya want some pop? also, i just hit a deer with my car, wanna come over for dinner, we have deer meat
  • Rhode Island: size don't matter, this is the best state, and you probably only know us cuz of family guy but whatever
  • South Carolina: Praise Jesus! shrimp, grits, and conservatives, and Southern hospit- wait, what the fuck did you just say about North Carolina?
  • South Dakota: we're below another Dakota
  • Tennessee: nashville is fun to say and that dumb pickup line, oh my god, i get it, you're the only ten-i-see, fuck off and shove the bible right up your
  • Texas: trip onto my lawn and I'll blow your head off and it's my god-given right as an american goddamnit burn a flag and i'll be shovin' it up your yuppie ass later
  • Utah: Mormons and that little smudge on the map that's a lake
  • Vermont: skiing and the NRA loves using us as a misrepresented statistic
  • Virginia: the confederacy didn't win the war, but we sure as hell didn't lose it *burns textbook
  • Washington: it rains. and sometimes twilight fans come to brood.
  • West Virginia: we split off from Virginia and we thought we were cool but now no one notices us- NOTICE US VIRGINIA
  • Wisconsin: cheese is a valid form of US currency shut up
  • Wyoming: we're not all gay cowboys

* guess who finally woke up from hibernation.

* sorry for taking so long. the mun was busy with school stuff. 
poor kid. they’re pretty bone-tired. i would be too if i was in their shoes. but luckily i’m not, so… heh.

* me and the mun will be answering some skele ton of old asks, so the ask box will be closed for the meantime. 

* oh and uh, thanks a lot for 1k followers. you guys sure do have a thing for an old bag of bones huh? heh heh. just kidding. 

* that’s all. i’ll see you guys later.

Switched luggage at the airport : brohm
  • (Bryce calls Ohm on skype through his computer)
  • Bryce: ohm? you there?
  • Ohm: yeah im here! sorry it took me so long, the wifi here is really fuckin' slow. *moves phone around trying to get a good angle of his face*
  • Bryce: I'm guessing your still at the airport due to all the noise *giggle*
  • Ohm: *soft laugh* yeah, the waiting queue is taking forever god damn it.
  • Bryce: thats sad.
  • Ohm: i know right!
  • Bryce: so I guess that means you have your luggage still on you then? *gives him a questioning side glare*
  • Ohm: well yeah, i have to pull this heavy piece of shit with me everywhere. *tilts phone so Bryce can see the suitcase at his side*
  • Bryce: Great! now about that luggage.. *sheepish grin*
  • Ohm: Bryce? what did you do? *scolds him while talking to him like a child*
  • Bryce: i might have done a bad and switched our luggage. *talks softly*
  • Ohm: Bryce! *facepalms* you didn't go through it did you?
  • Bryce: ahhh I may have just a little bit. *squints eyes*
  • Ohm: fucking hell Bryce. Then who's do i have?
  • Bryce: Well I'm hoping mine, otherwise someone gets to take my Micky mouse ears home and gift them to their grandchildren.
  • Ohm: well we don't want that now do we Brycey?
  • Bryce: *crosses his arms across his chest* absolutely not!
  • Ohm: *laughs at Bryce's child like antics* alright let have a look, just hang on a sec. *puts the phone down on the floor as he opens the suitcase*
  • Bryce: I can't really go anywhere so yeah, i guess I'll hang for a sec. *comments smart assly*
  • Ohm: *picks phone back up* you're in luck my friend. *turns camera toward Bryce's open suitcase to show his mickey mouse ears sitting on top*
  • Bryce: phew *wipes imaginary sweat off his forehead* i guess that's that fixed. *giggles cutely*
  • Ohm: that's great and all Bryce but, what the fuck am i going to do now?! my flight is about to lift off, the line to even get your tickets up is taking 3 years, I just found out I have the wrong luggage and need to find a way to get to your house, come back to the airport, line up in the queue for another 5 hours and get on a plane that is already half way across the sea?! *he lists complaining*
  • Bryce: ohm. *looks into the camera reassuringly*
  • Ohm: what? *looks back panicked and way less calm then before*
  • Bryce: you need to calm your tits and think for a minute. there's no way you'll be able to come to my house and back in time for your flight *he began listing off his fingers* even if i decided to bring your luggage to you there still won't be enough time and the only other option is you take my luggage with you and the next time we meet up we give each others stuff back.
  • Ohm: but who knows how long that might be?!
  • Bryce: *shruggs* sorry bud not much i can do about that.
  • Ohm: there's gotta be another option? *he says as he finally takes a step forward in the line*
  • Bryce: well... *scratchs under his chin*
  • Ohm: What?... well what?! *he says in anticipation*
  • Bryce: i guess you could hang at my house for a little longer.
  • Ohm: YES! *says so loud the family lined up in front of him turned around startled*
  • Ohm: i-i mean, yes please.
  • Bryce: *laughs sweetly at ohm's excitement* well then, it'll probably be best if you get out the line dont you think? *smiles wildly*
  • Ohm: oh yeah i guess your right. excuse me miss, pardon me. *Bryce watched as ohms phone swayed as he tried to get out of the queue*
  • Bryce: oh and about your plane tickets, we can exchange them for another flight. *he says in a plain tone*
  • Ohm: What! why didn't you tell me that before?! *makes it to the back of the line and walks towards the exit doors to the drop off parking lot*
  • Bryce: i forgot, sheesh. *runs hand through hair while looking to his right as something catching his eye*
  • Bryce: hey ohm? *reaches down to grab something*
  • Ohm: hmm? *hums not even looking at bryce's cam*
  • Bryce: i also forgot to ask you about this. *holds up an 'i love Bryce McQuaid' t-shirt that he found in ohms suitcase*
  • how long have you had this exactly? *smirkfull grin*
  • Ohm: *looks at Bryce through his phone a little blush on his cheeks but Bryce didn't notice* oh my god, Can you just come pick me up?! *he says passive aggressively*
  • Bryce: alllright, I'll see you soon then buddy. *puts the shirt down on his lap* but I still have some question for you like.. why is my face on that pillow.
  • Ohm: *rubs his forehead in frustration* I'll tell you later, just get your ass in the car before i get to the exit.
  • Bryce: im on it dont worry, i'll be there before you can say i love Bryce McQuaid.
  • Ohm: wouldn't even say it if my life depended on it. *he jokes smiling*
  • Bryce: right? that's why you have a shirt to say it for you, got it. *smirks devilishly giggling*
  • Ohm: okay im gonna hang up im almost at the door. it would be unfair if i didn't give you enough time to beat me to it?
  • Bryce: a challenge? oh your on!
  • Ohm: *chuckles* bye Bryce.
  • bryce: see you in a bit. *whispers* fangirl.
  • (hangs up call)
  • Lily: Remus! There you are. I'm so glad to see you!
  • Remus: Why are you hugging my arm?
  • Lily: I just love your company.
  • Remus: I'm confused and a little concerned.
  • Remus: Why are you twirling your hair?
  • Lily: Oh, look, it's Potter. I should go.
  • Remus: Huh, wait, oh no, this is revenge for that prank the other day. It was Sirius' idea to distract you. Don't do this to me.
  • Lily: See you later, Remus!
  • James: REMUS JOHN LUPIN!
  • Remus: Damn, I'll never hear the end of this.

anonymous asked:

Vader sitting down after a long day of subjugation with a big bowl of space-popcorn (not for eating, NOOOOO). He waves a hand and the Holo pops up, only to blink off again when an unfortunate imperial minion opens the door. "Oh, Lord Vader, there's just a few things..." he trails off, wondering how someone gives you an unnerving stare when you can't see their FACE. "I'll just come back later..." Vader nods and the minion scurries off. (Part 1)

(Part 2) The Holo pops back up and he immediately throws a handful of space-popcorn at it, the pieces falling through the couple depicted for his viewing pleasure. “Noooo. Maritza! The man can’t even pilot! Aden is the one who loves you!”

One day Han Solo will have to deal with the Force ghost of this man demanding he download the last season of Empire Of Love and just spend the whole time dying inside while Anakin gets all emotional over a soap that is probably half Imperial propaganda and Force-flips a table. 

“… did you know you could do that,” Han asks, eyeing the table with a freaked-out expression. 

“… yes,” Anakin lies, equally freaked out. 

“LUUUUUUUUUKE??” 

Portland Gothic

- “True Oregonians don’t use umbrellas,” the locals scoff. They must soak in the blood of the fallen gods whose demise have shaped the region, it is a controlled toxin needed for survival.

- “So the state drink must be beer, right?” You ask quite casually.
The bar goes silent, and the patrons nervously glance at one another. A low mooing comes from the backroom. The bartender starts to sweat then softly cry as the door creaks open, unleashing the smell of warm grass and cow shit.

- You ask your barista what they like to do in their free time, “Oh I’m in a band with some friends. I play the marimba, Stacy can sing with the souls of the damned, and Dave’s gotten pretty good with his 5,000 year old tibetan flute. It screams a bit if he blows too hard though.”

- Forest Park is a black mass coating a section of the west hills, rangers warn people away. At night some say you can see lights. Two people have already been lost.

Once upon a time, this happened on Chatzy & I thought I should share it
  • Spock: *complains about Jim refusing to file reports*
  • Bones: *grumbles something*
  • Spock: What was that, doctor?
  • Bones: I said, call him "baby."
  • Spock: ...
  • Bones: I'm serious. It's like a moth to a flame.
  • Spock: Jim is not an infant.
  • Bones: Oh, for the love of...it's an endearment, Spock.
  • Spock: I see.
  • Spock: Will you provide an example of the endearment in use?
  • Bones: Will I...? Good lord, man, just whisper it in his ear.
  • Spock: Thank you, doctor. I will take that under advisement.
  • (Later that night)
  • Spock: Jim...Captain, we must submit the report about Random Planet X to Starfleet this evening.
  • Jim: Yeah, yeah...I'll get to it.
  • Spock: *steps closer* If we finish it now, there will be time for chess before my meditation.
  • Jim: Just give me ten more minutes. I'm at a good part.
  • Spock: *takes another step* A book will not vanish during the night.
  • Jim: Five minutes.
  • Spock: *leans close to Jim's ear* Jim...
  • Jim: *grins and hides his ear in his shoulder but keeps reading*
  • Spock: *hovers and exhales*
  • Jim: You make it really hard to concentrate.
  • Jim: *turns the page*
  • Spock: *frustrated*
  • Spock: *considers what Dr. McCoy told him*
  • Spock: *decides this is ridiculous and will not work but as a scientist...he should try before reaching a conclusion*
  • Spock: *very, very softly, and feeling very, very ridiculous* Baby...
  • Jim: *FREEZES*
  • Jim: *FULL BODY SHIVER*
  • Spock: *happily encouraged* We must file the report.
  • Jim: *nonverbal nodding*
  • Spock: *takes the book from Jim's hands and marks his place, lays it aside*
  • Spock: *blows in his ear one more time for good measure, watches Jim shiver*
  • Jim: *looks at him in disbelief and licks his lips*
  • Spock: *puts the PADD containing the report details in front of him*
  • Jim: *swallows* Okay.
  • (Even later that night)
  • Jim: *messages Bones* Nice move.
  • Bones: I have no idea what you're talking about.
  • Jim: I didn't tell you that so you could use it against me
  • Bones: Goodnight, infant
  • Jim: I'm going to tell Carol about your hair-on-the-soap phobia
  • Bones: Real mature

anonymous asked:

Are you a supporter of PETA?

So I appreciate some of the undercover stuff that they do, especially in agriculture, and they’re spay/neuter efforts and their general attempt to get people to be more considerate towards animal welfare in industry, policy, and the home. And I appreciate that they’re outspoken, and PETA was more or less the first animal rights organization. I could get behind a lot of the stuff they promote, and for some of the things that I don’t agree with, I can understand where they’re coming from.

But no. I don’t support them. There are several reasons why and you probably know some of the more controversial stuff that they do. But honestly right now, I want to talk about how I’m fed up with their constant fighting against the people who want to save shelter animals. This is the No-Kill movement, which could more accurately be called, no-kill-unless-necessary movement, or at least a try-to-move-towards-killing-less movement. Why do they spend money and send lawyers to fight against people and policies designed to save shelter animals? Why don’t they use that money TO SAVE ANIMALS? Especially when there are 5.66 empty homes for pets PER PET that is killed at a shelter in the US? Here are some examples of things that PETA does:

-PETA and HSUS fought against several states’ Companion Animal Protection Acts, which would make it illegal to kill pets for retribution against a person who cares about that animal, or for convenience, when there is space and resources for them at a shelter or a rescue willing to take them. A similar act that was passed in California saves 46,000 companion animals per year, saving $1.8 million in euthanasia drugs for taxpayers, and Delaware saves 80% of shelter animals now.

Keep reading

INFJ dad appreciation
  • INFJ: *is INTP's dad*
  • INTP: *is visiting home*
  • INFJ: *rubs his temples*
  • INTP: Headache?
  • INFJ: *sighs* Yeah. And a dry throat. And fatigue. And a clogged up nose. And vertigo. And neck pain. And general blue-ness.
  • INTP: Wow.
  • INFJ: I'm also really exhausted from all the socialising I've been doing lately.
  • INTP: Yeah, the anniversary yesterday was fun, but draining.
  • INFJ: Don't forget I attended a wedding the day before.
  • INTP: Ouch, that's definitely too much "people" for such a short period of time. I feel your pain.
  • INFJ: *sighs and nods*
  • ---
  • Later, in a restaurant
  • INFJ: *massages neck*
  • INTP: Still?
  • INFJ: Yes. I'm starting to feel somewhat sick.
  • INTP: Seems like it's not your day.
  • INFJ: *stares into oblivion*
  • INFJ: ...
  • INFJ: ...
  • INFJ: ...it's not my life.
  • INTP: *snorts*
  • Later
  • INFJ: *takes half of the sausage INTP is eating*
  • INTP: Oy!
  • INFJ: *munches* Maybe I'm just hungry...
  • INFJ: ...
  • INFJ: ...
  • INFJ: ...
  • INFJ: ...I was just hungry.
  • INFJ: *brightly* Want some steak?
  • ---
  • In the evening
  • INTP: You wouldn't consider driving me home, would you?
  • INFJ: *looks up* Oh, I'd love to love to take you home.
  • INTP: *sighs laughingly* Bye, dad.
  • ---
  • On a different day
  • INTP: *on the phone* Yeah, the bag is a bit heavy, so I was wondering if you could pick me up. But it's fine if you can't - I can carry it.
  • INFJ: Sorry, it's not really on my route. I'll see you later!
  • INTP: Okay, I'll see you soon!
  • 10 minutes later
  • *phone rings*
  • INTP: Y'hello?
  • INFJ: It's heavy, isn't it?
  • INTP: Just a bit.
  • INFJ: I'll pick you up.
what happened? :(
  • You: Hello, Hamish [15]. You may not know who I am. My name is Sherlock Holmes. SH
  • Stranger: Er, hi. Who are you? HW
  • You: [Delay] I was a friend of your father's. SH
  • Stranger: He's not mentioned you. HW
  • You: We have not seen each other in a very long time. SH
  • Stranger: Yeah, but he would've mentioned you. HW
  • Maybe I should ask him about you first. HW
  • You: Probably. SH
  • You: He is going to be angry that I contacted you. SH
  • Stranger: Then why did you? Who are you? HW
  • If you were friends, he wouldn't be angry. HW
  • You: We were friends, but he wants nothing to do with me. SH
  • You: I wanted to know how the two of you are doing. SH
  • Stranger: We're fine. HW
  • What did you do? Sorry, I'm just quite confused and not too sure who you are or why you care about me? If you want to know how he's doing, talk to him. HW
  • Stranger: ((brb))
  • You: I would if I had any hope that he would reply. SH
  • You: [Delay] I had to leave London for two years. He believed I was dead. SH
  • Stranger: You let your best friend think that you were dead for two years? No wonder you're not friends anymore. HW
  • And so, you think that the best way to get in contact with him would be through his son. Good one. HW
  • You: I know. SH
  • You: There is no excuse, but my hand was forced by a very bad man. SH
  • Stranger: Er, this is really kinda weird? So I'm going to stop replying, because I have no idea who you are? Er, yeah. HW
  • I'll tell my dad. Tell him you said hi, or something. HW
  • You: I understand. SH
  • You: Thank you for your time, Hal. SH
  • Stranger: ...Only my Dad calls me Hal. HW
  • You: I apologise. Hamish. SH
  • Stranger: Okay. Well... Bye. HW
  • You: [Delay] Goodbye. SH
  • Stranger: [three hours later]
  • You are going to delete his number, delete all of these back-and-forth texts between the two of you, and you're not going to talk to him. Same with me. JW
  • You: [Delay] I will not contact either of you again. SH
  • Stranger: Good. Goodbye. JW
  • You: I'm sorry. Goodbye. SH
  • Stranger: [Delay[ Why now? JW
  • You: I knew you want nothing to do with me, and I did not want to contact Hamish until he was old enough to decide whether he wanted to speak to me or not. SH
  • You: I'm sorry. SH
  • Stranger: He won't want to speak to you. I'm making that decision for him. JW
  • You: I understand. SH
  • You: I'm sorry. SH
  • Stranger: Stop saying sorry. I don't... I don't care. Not anymore. JW
  • You: Right. Understandable. SH
  • You: Thank you. SH
  • Stranger: You aren't his father. Not any more. He doesn't even know who you are, isn't that deterrent enough? JW
  • You: I am aware, but I had nothing to lose. SH
  • Stranger: What did you want from this? For us to welcome you with open arms, for Hal to be glad of a second parent? JW
  • You: I wanted to know how you are. SH
  • Stranger: We're fine. JW
  • You: I understand. SH
  • You: Thank you. SH
  • Stranger: Goodbye. JW
  • You: Have a good life. SH
  • Stranger: I will. JW
  • You: Thank you for your time. This has been the best day of my life for thirteen days. SH
  • You: I won't bother you again. SH
  • Stranger: Thirteen? What happened thirteen days ago? JW
  • You: ((ah, thirteen years. lol))
  • Stranger: ((oh! hahaha sorry :') ))
  • Stranger: Fine. Fine. I'll see you... Well. I won't. JW
  • You: Be happy. SH
  • You: [Delay] Goodbye. SH
  • Stranger: Goodbye. JW
  • You: [Three hours later] I love you. SH
  • You: I apologise for my last text. Delete it. SH
  • Stranger: You don't love me. You wouldn't have done all of /that/ if you did. JW
  • Stranger: But yeah, it's gone. Never happened. JW
  • You: [Delay] What would you have me do? He threatened you and Hamish. SH
  • Stranger: One word. One word, that is all I would've needed. One bloody word, Sherlock. Or some form of /anything/ to tell me that you weren't dead. JW
  • You: They were still watching you. SH
  • You: Besides, coming back was not always part of the plan. SH
  • Stranger: Would it have mattered if they were watching? You could slip one word. Mycroft could've said something, /Molly/ could've, if only you'd let them. Christ, Sherlock, you've no idea. JW
  • How was it not part of the plan? If a good case hadn't come up in London, would you not have bothered to talk to us again? Did we mean that bloody little to you?! JW
  • You: Difficult to talk to people when you're dead. SH
  • You: Would you have preferred to see me die and then find out that I was alive only to be told that I had died in a cellar in Serbia? SH
  • You: I would have considered that cruel. SH
  • Stranger: I would have preferred to find out you were alive but unable to come back to us for a while, and that what you were doing was dangerous and potentially life-threatening. Yes, that would've made things harder, but I would've known that you were trying to come home to us. Not that you were dead, full stop. No, /that's/ cruel. JW
  • You: [Delay] I knew not telling you would risk our relationship, but the other option would have risked your lives. SH
  • You: I made a choice and I stand by it. I'm sorry. SH
  • Stranger: Well, that choice has cost you your relationship. Stand by it. JW
  • You: I have, for the past thirteen years. SH
  • You: I could never bring myself to regret it. You and Hamish are alive and well. SH
  • Stranger: Hamish is alive and missing a parent he doesn't remember, hating me for refusing to show him pictures of you. I am alive and /still/ heartbroken because my husband lied to me and made me think he was dead, and worse still, making me still love you when I know and you know that I can't. JW
  • Yeah, Sherlock. Alive and "well". JW
  • You: [Delay] You were supposed to be happy. SH
  • Stranger: Didn't factor "emotion" into your equation correctly, then. JW
  • You: Accounting for all the emotions in the situation would have paralyzed me, so no. SH
  • Stranger: [Delay] Paralyzed is better than dead. JW
  • You: I would beg to disagree. SH
  • You: Death certainly has its appeals, all things considered. SH
  • Stranger: /Don't you dare/. Don't you /bloody/ dare, Sherlock. JW
  • You: There is no need to worry, John. SH
  • You: I have challenged myself to live my life in a way that would make you proud for the past decade. SH
  • Stranger: And how's that? JW
  • You: Eating. Sleeping. No unnecessary risks. No unnecessary cruelty. SH
  • You: And of course, no indulging in self-destructive behaviour of any kind. SH
  • Stranger: Oh. No, yes, I'm very happy to hear that. How come you never did any of that when I would ask you to, hmm? God, you're an idiot. JW
  • Stranger: Not that I care. I don't. JW
  • You: I am not entirely sure why. To honour you, perhaps. SH
  • You: There were a couple of incidents during my first year back. I needed guidance, I suppose. SH
  • Stranger: Oh. Well, we all need time to adjust, I suppose. JW
  • Stranger: [delay] I have to cook dinner, so I'm going to go. Goodnight, Sherlock. JW
  • You: Thank you, John. SH
  • Stranger: Goodnight. JW
  • You: Goodnight. I hope you sleep well. SH
  • Stranger: /Goodnight/. JW
  • Stranger: [five days later]
  • Hal won't shut up about you. Desperate to know who you are, why you contacted him, angry at me for deleting your number from his phone. Am I doing the right thing? Am I right in choosing for him? All I'm trying to do is protect him from what happened, and he hates me for it. What am I meant to do, Sherlock? JW
  • You: [Delay] You are his father. I have no say in this. SH
  • Stranger: That's not an answer to my question. JW
  • You: I am afraid I cannot form an objective opinion on this matter. SH
  • Stranger: /Sherlock/. JW
  • You: What do you want me to say? SH
  • You: That I dream about meeting him and wake up in tears because it wasn't true? SH
  • You: [Delay] I apologise. Ignore that. SH
  • Stranger: Sherlock, I... JW
  • You: I am sorry, John. That was inappropriate. SH
  • Stranger: [Delay] Jesus Christ. Er, I've got the afternoon off work, Hal should be home at fourish. Just... Come over, I suppose. JW
  • I take it you're aware of where we're living. JW
  • You: [Delay] I don't understand. SH
  • You: Why? SH
  • Stranger: Because he wants to know his father and he wants to know who you are, and because you want to meet him more than anything, so... JW
  • Killing two birds with one stone. Well. Three. JW
  • You: [No response]
  • Stranger: So... Will you come? JW
  • You: y SH
  • You: yes SH
  • You: Yes. SH
  • Stranger: Are you alright, Sherlock? JW
  • You: [Delay] soon SH
  • Stranger: We can reschedule for a later date, if you'd want time to collect yourself, or something. JW
  • You: no n SH
  • You: no need. panic attack. SH
  • You: [Delay] I'll be fine. Soon. SH
  • Stranger: Panic attack? Christ, are you alright? JW
  • Stupid question, of course you're not. It'll be fine, Sherlock, you can come and see Hal soon, alright? Calm down, I love you. Calm down, yeah? JW
  • Stranger: No, Christ, I didn't... Sorry. Just calm down. I'll see you later. JW
  • You: [Delay] I will be fine. See you. SH
  • Stranger: Alright. See you later. JW
  • You: [Delay] Is four thirty acceptable? SH
  • Stranger: Absolutely, sounds fine. JW
  • You: Thank you. SH
  • Stranger: It's alright. In hindsight, I suppose it was really selfish of me to hide him from you for so long. I can't imagine what it must have been like, and I'm... I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. JW
  • You: Don't apologise. SH
  • You: You did what you thought was best for Hamish. He is what matters. SH
  • Stranger: I... JW
  • [Delay] Yes. Yeah, he is. JW
  • You: I can only thank you for taking care of him so well. SH
  • Stranger: I did what I could. JW
  • You: [Delay] I will be there soon. SH
  • Stranger: Alright. We'll see you later. JW
  • You: An hour later, Sherlock stood in front of the door to John's building, bag of pastries clutched in a white-knuckled hand. Despite his earlier shower, the attack from earlier had left him feeling cold and clammy. Suppressing a shudder, he bit his tongue as he reached out to ring the doorbell. He had to keep his focus this time. Polite, friendly, well-behaved. He swallowed convulsively, hand twitching against his thigh.
  • Stranger: John had been pacing up and down the hallway of his flat, worrying his lip between his teeth in anxious nerves. Why was he nervous? He had no reason to be. This wasn't about him and Sherlock, this was about Sherlock and Hamish, who seemed perfectly content as he sat on the sofa. And then the doorbell rang, and John tensed up. Hamish leaped up from his seat, his father having told him that the man - Sherlock? Sherlock something... He'd forgotten - was coming to visit them. "I'll get it!" The teen yelped, before dashing down the stairs to the door and swinging it open.
  • You: Sherlock's mouth opened as the door opened, but no sound came out. Hamish. Hamish. Hal /Hal/. He stood frozen for what felt like an eternity, studying the boy. He was so...he was so /tall/. Fifteen...how could he already be fifteen? Having to consciously remind himself to breathe, Sherlock blinked once, twice, before closing his mouth. He swallowed thickly. "Hello," he managed at last, voice rusty.
  • Stranger: Hamish narrowed his eyes at the man. He'd seen him before, he definitely had. Somewhere... Who was he? Having realised he'd been staring and hadn't replied, the teen cleared his throat and took a step back. "Sorry. I... er, come in. Dad's upstairs, Mr...?" Crap, how embarrassing how he'd forgotten the man's surname. He shook his head, flicking his curls from side to side. Curls. Like the man's. No, shut up, brain. "Sorry. Er, Sherlock. Upstairs." He turned and lead the way, pushing a hand through his dark /curls/.
  • You: "I...Sherlock is perfectly fine," he said softly, biting down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself anchored. Hamish. Hal. Hal, who was already almost taller than John and with dark curls. Hal. God. Sherlock let out a shuddering breath as he held the bannister firmly as he climbed the stairs after Hamish. He could not fuck this up. Blood was rushing in his ears and he could feel his heartbeat everywhere, but he kept it in by pure force of will.
  • Stranger: "Dad!" Hamish called, reaching the top of the stairs after a climb in silence. He had so many questions about what'd happened, but he supposed he shouldn't ask. It appeared that it was a difficult subject for his Dad, and after all, his father was the only reason Sherlock had come, anyway. "Sherlock's here." John had been in the kitchen, still furiously pacing but also making tea, and his head whipped around as he heard Hamish entering the flat, another set of footsteps behind him. "H-Hello..." He said quietly, clearing his throat as Sherlock made himself apparent in the room. He hadn't changed - thirteen years had done him well. Not even the coat was any different, nor scarf, nor hair, nor perfectly icy blue eyes. "Hello. Hi. Sherlock, H-Hal. Hal, Sherlock."
  • You: Sherlock was impossibly torn between Hamish and John, eyes flickering back and forth. Desperate for something to do, he held out the paper bag with fresh pastries. "Hello," he rasped. "I...I brought these. For...for tea." His free hand was curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm. God, he was pathetic.
  • Stranger: Hamish couldn't help but observe the man in front of him. It'd been a habit he'd always had, looking people up and down and deciphering what he could. Collar up, like he was hiding something. Clear discomfort, in his facial expression and in his body language, rigid in place and tense. Nerves? Uncertainty? Clean shaven, but clearly not shaved in a while, manual blade. Showered not long ago, judging by the fall of his hair and the dampness. Late forties, same age as his Dad, around about. But what got Hamish was the hand. The way he curled it into a fist, looking almost painful.
  • Hamish did that, when he was anxious.
  • John cleared his throat and took the bag, smiling gently. "Th-Thank you, Sherlock. Very kind of you. I'll.. Er, I'll set them out. Tea, coffee?"
  • You: Sherlock closed his eyes briefly. He had not had tea in years. "Tea, please." Unconsciously, he reached out to scratch at a pale scar on the inside of his wrist, swallowing. He looked to Hamish. Fifteen, but one year ahead in school at least. Had been up late last night, possibly on the computer. Small callouses on his fingers, indicating....indicating...
  • Sherlock drew in a breath. Hamish played the violin. He cleared his throat, forcing his voice into submission. "I...Can I ask you about your interests?" he asked awkwardly.
  • Stranger: John nodded to the two of them, knowing Hamish would have a tea as well, before smiling sheepishly and heading off to the kitchen. Hamish watched him go, before turning his head to Sherlock. "Ah, of course..." He walked back to the sofa, taking a seat and indicating for the man to do the same. He watched the man scratch at the scar, but made no comment. "Well... I... I play the violin, really. Ever since I was little, don't remember ever starting, just... always. School, I like chemistry? I like science in general, minus physics, which I find dull but necessary..."
  • "He doesn't like the solar system," John called from the kitchen, unable to bite back the comment which made him smile. Hamish rolled his eyes.
  • "It's irrelevant!"
  • You: Blinking desperately to get rid of the lump forming in his throat, Sherlock fought to reply in a level tone. "I...I can do nothing but agree," he managed. "I...I used to play the violin," he offered, looking down at his hands. The callouses on his fingers had disappeared long ago. "I...I am glad you play. Few people do, these days." He swallowed, lifting his gaze hestitantly. "I...I work as a freelance chemistry researcher. If you were to have any questions..." He snapped his mouth shut, realising he had probably overstepped his welcome. "Never mind."
  • Stranger: John paused as he heard through from the kitchen that he didn't play anymore. His hands shook slightly, terrified. Sherlock had stopped playing, and he could only imagine why - because he'd broken the man. He shakily prepared the tea and pastries, and headed back out to the living room.
  • Hamish grinned excitedly. "You do chemistry for a living? That's so cool. I think I want to be a doctor, like Dad. I'm not sure, though. You should play the violin, again. I wouldn't have known, normally people who play have these little callouses on their fingertips? But you don't have any. I checked." He blushed, looking down. "Sorry, I get... A bit carried away. It's embarrassing, I just... I like to read people. Sorry."
  • You: "You don't need to apologise," Sherlock said softly. "I...I understand. Perfectly." Digging his front teeth into his tongue to assure himself that this wasn't yet another dream, he continued. "Medicine is certainly a... an interesting field. Plenty of applied chemistry." He curled a hand around his thigh and clenched hard. It felt as if he were underwater - everything was so surreal. "I am sure you would do...very well."
  • Stranger: Hamish nodded, his smile faltering. Everything the man was saying pointed to what he'd believed the first second he'd opened the door - but it was too strange to even comprehend. He bit his lip, just staring at him. He'd heard his Dad come in, heard him mention the tea and the pastries, but his focus was fixed on Sherlock, because he was certain that he was his "Father...?" All too late, he realised what he'd said, and he clamped his mouth shut, looking down. Shit. Oh, Christ.
  • You: Sherlock flinched, hand flying back to scratch at his wrist. Hamish had...figured it out. Of course he had, with that ability to read people, and Sherlock had just given him more and more clues without asking John for permission and he hadn't meant to, swear to God he hadn't meant to, he was just making polite conversation, which was obviously an idiotic idea, how did he even come up with it, that he, Sherlock Holmes, was going to do small talk, Christ, John was going to be so angry, he was going to lose this one miniscule chance he had been given because of a spectacular cock-up and God, he was so pathetic.
  • Too-fast and too-shallow breaths were passing between his open lips as the room in front of him was beginning to fall out of focus. Christ, no.
Have...Dinner
  • Sherlock: *sulking in the lab*
  • Sherlock: *turns to Molly's empty desk; sighs*
  • New Pathologist: *entering* Well, if it isn't the sunshine of Bart's. Didn't expect to see you again *grins*
  • Sherlock: Mmm.
  • New Pathologist: *mock pouts* Why the frown?
  • Sherlock: Kindly remember you're no longer working in paediatrics.
  • New Pathologist: *laughs* Sorry, love, it's hard to stop. Anyway, here's the test thingy you wanted *waving the paper*
  • Sherlock: *snatches it; reading* Hmm.
  • New Pathologist: What?
  • Sherlock: Molly used to circle the anomalies, she'd also include a note at the bottom informing me of anything she might have found in her autopsy. Or if she'd needed to run more tests. She always finishes with a smiley face, too.
  • New Pathologist: *raises an eyebrow*
  • Sherlock: *frowns* I don't miss her *storms out*
  • LATER
  • *via Skype*
  • Molly: *smiles* How's my replacement?
  • Sherlock: Like a children's TV presenter on acid.
  • Molly: *giggles* For some that might be considered a good thing.
  • Sherlock: *smiles at her for quite a while; quickly clears his throat* Um, I miss...well, it's not the- the...Bart's is empty without-
  • Molly: *softly* I miss you, too. And, um, everyone else.
  • Sherlock: *hopeful* Come home?
  • Molly: *rolls her eyes* I've only got a week left.
  • Sherlock: *nods* Right, yes... *awkward* Listen, I was thinking...when you get back, we should-
  • *knocking at Molly's door*
  • Sherlock: *narrows his eyes* Are you...expecting someone?
  • Molly: *grinning* Oh, yeah, that's Ryan. He's taking me to dinner tonight *jumps to her feet, revealing a lovely dress*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Molly: *bites her lip* I'm sorry. We'll talk later, yeah?
  • Sherlock: Well, I-
  • Molly: *blows a kiss* Thanks, Sherlock, I'll see you later *closes her laptop*
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *sighs* ...have dinner *closes his laptop*
  • Coulson: *sees Rosalind's car. is transfixed*
  • Coulson: I think I'm in love.
  • Rosalind: My face is up here.
  • Coulson: Oh yeah, we're supposed to be fighting each other and stuff. But her car...
  • Coulson, negotiating, a few minutes later: So, if I work with the ACTU I can definitely take a ride in your car, right? I mean, I'll show you Lola and we can be car buddies. I mean, now that Mack's hanging out with Daisy more there's no one to be excited about cars with. Can we be friends?