The Gaang's Kids.

My girlfriends and I talk a lot about feminism and the inequality between the way men and women are talked about. The kind of things we say are: ‘Why is it mischievous, fun and sexy if a guy has a string of lovers that he’s cast aside; loved and left?’ Yet, if a woman dates three or four people in an eight-year period, she is a serial dater and it gives some 12-year-old the idea to call her a “slut” on the internet?

It’s not the same for boys. It just isn’t, and that’s a fact.

Kiss The Girl
  • *221B Baker Street*
  • *knocking*
  • Sherlock:*in his mind palace* Come in.
  • Baby Watson:*still outside; whispers* Was the secret knock right?
  • Sherlock:*smiles* Close enough.
  • Baby Watson:*shuffles inside; closing the door behind her*
  • Sherlock:*nods at the sofa* Sit down.
  • Baby Watson:*sits in the middle of the sofa*
  • Sherlock:*clasps his hands; glances at the door* Does anyone know you're here?
  • Baby Watson:Err, Mummy's downstairs talking to Granny.
  • Sherlock:*looks at her; narrows his eyes* Was your mission successful?
  • Baby Watson:*excitedly* Uh-huh!
  • Sherlock:*hopeful* Well?
  • Baby Watson:Sixteen.
  • Sherlock:*gapes* Sixteen? I only have until tonight! She'll be here at six.
  • Baby Watson:*giggles* But you're really clever.
  • Sherlock:*reaches for his notepad* To learn sixteen songs in two hours I'll have to be *sighs* Go on then.
  • Baby Watson:*thinking* Err, be our guest, go the distance, cruella de vil, hakuna matata, whistle while you work, bare necessities, a whole new world, friend like me, kiss the girl-
  • Sherlock:*stops writing* Is that her favourite one?
  • Baby Watson:I don't really-
  • Sherlock:*urgently* But is it her favourite one?
  • Baby Watson:...
  • Baby Watson:Umm, yeah.
  • Sherlock:*stands and lifts his violin* How does it go?
  • Mary:*calling* Sharlotte! We have to pick Daddy up from work now.
  • Baby Watson:*shimmies off the sofa* Good luck with Aunt Molly, Uncle Sherlock.
  • Sherlock:*panics* No, you can't-
  • Baby Watson:You'll be fine. If it doesn't work, you can always just kiss the girl *waves goodbye and leaves*
  • Sherlock:*looks down at his violin* Ah.

“What about him?”

Phil looked in the direction that Maria was pointing, but, considering that the bar was pretty crowded, he couldn’t tell who, exactly, he was supposed to be looking at. “Which one?”

“Brunet, sitting at the bar.” She rolled her eyes as if that had been obvious from the start, even though it really, really hadn’t.

He looked at the man for a few moments, considering, before finally replying with “No.”

“No? Why not? Are you just determined to reject every single guy I pick out for you?”

“He’s just…” Phil shrugged “Not my type.”

Maria turned to face him, glee in her eyes. “You have a type?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“You’re not everyone. You’re Phil Coulson. I’m pretty sure if you ask any junior agent about you they’ll insist that you’re a robot.” She paused, brain turning over this new information Phil had just given her. “But since you do have a type, surely he would be it, right? I mean, I haven’t even talked to him and I can already tell that he’s practically your soulmate!”

“And why would you get that impression?”

“Just look at him – he’s around your age, he’s attractive. He’s probably taller than you – which I know you like, don’t try and deny it – but not so much taller than you that he’d make you look short. He’s wearing a perfectly tailored Armani suit – “

Phil cut in quickly, muttering “—I’m more of a Dolce man, myself.”

The glare that came from Maria made him shut up pretty quickly, and she continued. “He’s sitting, in a bar, and yet he’s doing paperwork instead of interacting with other people. Tell me he’s not perfect for you, go on, I dare you.”

“He’s not perfect for me.”


“Gotta say, the Armani was a deal breaker.” he deadpanned, but when Maria scowled at him he just thought ‘to hell with it’ and gave her the actual reason “Plus, I’m kinda taken.”

In the minute or so that Maria sat staring at him in silence, gobsmacked, a million different expressions crossed her face, before she finally said “Barton.”

It hadn’t really been a question, but Phil still answered “Yes.”

“Phil Coulson, you motherfucker. How long have we known each other? We started training at SHIELD on the same day. I am your best friend in the entire world, and yet you didn’t think to even mention to me that you had a boyfriend?”

“Fiancé, actually…” Phil braced himself, preparing for Maria to explode in rage.

“You are damn lucky that we’re in a crowded bar, or I would probably kill you right now.”

“If it helps, I decided to tell you today because I want you to be my maid of honour.”

Maria’s expression softened, and it was obvious that she was holding back a grin as she mumbled “I’m still mad at you.”

I really want a girlfriend.


2014: she looks so perfect

2015: she’s kinda hot

2016: she’s okay I guess