you know i can't do fancy stuff

thescreechinglemons  asked:

So I was going to draw a few Eddsworld things ;-; would you have an opinion on what the guys would all be like for Christmas if they were all say like drunk? (Assuming Tom wasn't trying to destroy Christmas) Oh also what do you think they would do/wear if they were part of a circus or just to dress up say to like meet a queen (I wanna draw some fancy clothes on them and new stuff and I wanna make a Christmas card for Tumblr peeps ;-; but I can't decide and I'm too shy to ask most peeps)

Well I don`t know about the drunk thing, but I can make guesses! Tom is the “I`m tired let me sleep I`m done with the world” kind of drunk, Tord is probably aggressive as heck and wants to fight every body, Edd is a giggly mess that can`t even form one coherent sentence while Matt is the sad drunk, mourning his broken fingernails.

And for the dress up formally I have this:

I wiped this up in 20 min I hope it gives you inspiration!

anonymous asked:

So in seasons probably around 6-8 there were a lot of characters who said things about Cas being in love with Dean or they heavily insinuated it but I can't remember any recent comments about their relationship. Maybe I'm just forgetting stuff or I'm crazy but I was just wondering what you thought about it. Do you think it everyone just stopped commenting because everybody knows and it's blatantly obvious they love each other or something completetly different I was just wondering.

Well, this kinda reminds me of how things are in real life u know?

Imagine you’re in a group of friends, maybe in college or something, and you kind of fancy someone… your friends start out by teasing you and bringing attention to it.

Over time it becomes apparent that actually it’s not just a fleeting fancy and there are real *reasons* why you are both holding back, meanwhile your feelings become deeper and more meaningful. It turns from a fancy and lust to intense love and caring, but you can’t actually become a couple, it’s painful.

So people stop teasing and start treading on eggshells, hardly mentioning it but it is so clear to everyone…

Yeah. Thats how I see the writers about this subject. At first it was fun and a bit of banter, now its actually a love story and not just lustful looks, it’s incredibly different.

I love it :D

  • (Holtzmann walks out in a red dress, hair down, purposely doing model poses everywhere in the living room for the last 5 minutes my I add)
  • Abby: Geez Louizz! Jillian
  • Patty: HOLY MACKEREL
  • ERIN: r-red.
  • (Everyone stops and looks at Erin.)
  • Erin: ....
  • Abby: Holtz, you broke Erin again
  • Patty, shakes her head laughing: egghead, you can't do this every time we go to a fancy dinner, were late again
  • Erin, staring: ...
  • Holtz, walks up and winks: Aye, hot tamale, like what you see??
  • Erin, flustered, quickly grabbing all her stuff: .. You know what Holtz quit messing around we have to go!
  • Patty: mhm.

namelythedanger-deactivated2017  asked:

((I may have already sent this, I forget)) Teen!lock Sherlock and Molly both fancy each other, try to ask the other out, and they both end up getting flustered and tongue tied and can't do it. And John and Mary are tired of their shit so they eventually make them get together.

Thank you so much for your prompt and really sorry it’s so late. Never written any teen stuff before, and I don’t think I will again any time soon. It’s really not very good. I just found it so hard to keep them in character! But here you go. It’s done, anyway.

“Sorry I’m late! My folder just broke, and everything fell out, you know, all the papers and everything, and the wind was just blowing them everywhere, so it took me ages…" 

"Molly, breathe!” Miss Edwards interrupted, and the whole class burst into laughter. Well, almost the whole class, thought Molly, as she caught Sherlock rolling his eyes. “You’re only a few minutes late. You haven’t missed anything. Instructions are on your table, and don’t worry. I made sure Sherlock didn’t start without you.”

As she approached her seat, which happened to be beside him, he stood up and held out a lab coat and a pair of safety glasses.

“Hurry up, Molly! We’ve been delayed long enough! Everyone’s probably finished half their experiments by now.”

“Hello to you to,” she muttered, taking the proffered objects.

He didn’t release his hold on them, however, and opened his mouth as if about to say something.

“Molly, would you do me the honour of allowing me to court you?”

John looked at his friend incredulously, not sure if he was being serious or joking. “Er, mate, you can’t ask her out like that…” he said, hesitantly, and he didn’t miss the way his best friend’s face fell slightly. “Try again, a little less 18th Century, this time.”

“Yes, er, here.” He threw the coat into her hands and went to fetch the equipment. Molly just looked behind him, wondering why he was acting weirdly, before realising that this was Sherlock. It would probably have been weirder if he hadn’t been acting weird.

Sherlock, meanwhile, cursed internally, wondering what on earth was wrong with him. Picking up a few extra test tubes (Molly was renowned for her general inability to get through a chemistry lesson without breaking something), he returned to the desk.

They set up the apparatus, working efficiently around each other as ever. After seven years of ‘sciencing’ together (as Molly called it), they had gotten past the stage of having to discuss who would do what, and as usual just got on with it. 

Unusually, however, the two were silent today, both seemingly having a lot on their minds.

“Sherlock,” Molly said, eventually breaking the silence, and he looked towards her. She was now holding a boiling tube above a Bunsen burner, waiting for the substance to boil, while Sherlock went about preparing the remaining solutions to test. “Sherlock, I was wondering…”

“I can’t do it, Mary!” Molly put her face in her palms, elbows resting on the table, as she waited for her friend to finish her breakfast. The two girls always met in the morning at Mary’s house, so they could walk down to school together.

“Oh, for goodness sake, Molly!” Mary almost shouted, toast crumbs flying everywhere, and her friend gave her a mildly disgusted look. “All you have to do is ask him to go and watch a film, or something." 

"He doesn’t even watch films, Mary! Remember what happened last time?” Molly responded, and Mary cringed.

“As if I could forget. Why do you like this guy again?” Molly gave her a look, and Mary giggled. “I’m joking. Ok, look, what do you think he’d like to do?”

“I was wondering if you…” She gulped. “Do you want to… switch roles? I know you find mixing boring, and, I mean, you usually seem to want to do this. If it’s because of me, then I mean I know we decided after that time I spilt all the sulfuric acid and it burnt through your book, that we’d leave the pouring to you but I’ll be careful, don’t worry, you can trust me-”

“MOLLY!” Sherlock finally interrupted, a smirk on his face. “I do trust you. Here, you do the rest of this, and give me that.”

Molly grinned, and his expression softened to something akin to fondness. She took the beaker he was holding out, but almost dropped again as he grabbed the test tube holder from her hand, their hands brushing in the process.

He seemed not to notice, however, and she shook herself out of it, before diligently mixing varying quantities of the reagents.

Sherlock had noticed, and although he was somewhat better at hiding it that, although even he couldn’t prevent the tips of his ears turning pink. He stared intently at the flame, but couldn’t stop himself casting covert glances towards the girl next to him. 

The look of quiet concentration on her face was mesmerising. He had always enjoyed watching her work. She seemed to give her full attention to the task at hand (although that was probably for the best - he had experienced many times what happened when she got distracted).

And, of course, he had lost count of the number of times he had gotten into squabbles and she had had to patch him up, with that same look on her face, only directed towards him.

This was it, he decided. It was now or never. He straightened his shoulders, and stood a little taller.

Sherlock paused to think for a second, before . “Hey, Molls, you wanna go out wimme?”

As he finished, he made some strange gesture with his hand, John clenched his fists to resist the urge to slap his palm on his forehead. 

“‘Molls’? You hate when people call her that!” Sherlock shrugged, and John took a breath to calm himself.

Sherlock, look, just be yourself,” John told him, and Sherlock’s face fell even further.

“‘Myself’ right, thanks for that enlightening piece of advice, John,” Sherlock muttered.

“Myself,” he murmured under his breath, still staring at Molly.

“What? ‘Yourself’ what?” she asked, a frown on her face, and he seemed to snap out of his trance at her question.

“What? Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, Molly, there is something.”

“Wait, Sherlock, before you say anything -” she began, but he interrupted her.

“No, Molly, I have to say this.”

“No, Sherlock, the test tube’s going to…” *CRACK* “…break.”

“Well, at least Molly didn’t break anything,” Miss Edwards said at the end of the lesson, as they were clearing up the mess they had made, and Molly giggled as Sherlock frowned at the pieces of glass he was sweeping up. “Oh, go on. I’ll clear away the rest. You go have lunch.”

Sherlock and Molly gathered their books and made their way to the canteen, casting covert glances at each other, until they met each other’s eyes and looked forward, blushing.

“Oi! Over here,” John called, as they reached the canteen. He was sitting next to Mary, who exasperatedly slapped his arm, but beckoned them over anyway.

“So?” John asked, almost as soon as they had sat down.

“So what?” Molly and Sherlock exchanged a confused look.

John rolled his eyes and nudged his best friend. “Did you do it?”

Sherlock chuckled nervously, shaking his head slightly. “Er, do what? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, Christ, don’t tell me you still haven’t-”

“Haven’t returned that book? No, I’ll do it later. Stop bugging me!”

“Wait, if Sherlock hasn’t… that means Molly, you haven’t-”

“No, I still haven’t found my pen, John. I’m sure it was in my pencil case. Maybe it’s still at home. I’ll check later. The pasta’s delicious today, isn’t it?”

“For once, it’s more than just edible. I wish they’d make it like this every day. It’d be so much more-”

“Oh shut up, all of you!” Mary finally shouted. “Sherlock, Molly, both of you like each other, a lot. You act like a pair of fools around each other, blushing and stuttering, can’t stop staring at each other, you make each other laugh, and you genuinely enjoy each other’s company. What’s more is, you seem to be the only ones who can’t see that you’re perfect for each other, and it is getting on my nerves now, so John and I are now going to go away, and in the meantime, could the two of you please just grow a pair and ask each other out? Thank you." 

Thus saying, Mary got up, grabbed a laughing John’s hand, and dragged him out of the canteen. Sherlock and Molly sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, recovering from Mary’s speech, before they both began speaking at once.

"I was going to ask you-”

“I would have eventually told you-”

“-but the lab coat-”

“-and with the experiment-”

“-that bloody test tube-”

They both trailed off, looking at each other, before Molly burst into giggles, and Sherlock rolled his eyes, though he too couldn’t stop a fond smile from gracing his features.

“So,” Sherlock said, his nerves returning when the silence had descended between them again.

“Um. Yeah.” Molly bit her lip and glanced around awkwardly.

“Dr Osmond is giving a talk in the science museum this weekend.” Molly’s head snapped to face him.

“Oh my god, on her latest research?” she asked, trying and failing not to sound too eager.

“Yep. And there’s a chance to meet her afterwards as well, if you’re interested…”

Interested? Sherlock, that sounds like the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard!” Molly told him, unable to contain her excitement any longer, and Sherlock grinned. “And maybe afterwards, we can get chips from that shop you worked at last summer.”

“On Marylebone Road!” he exclaimed. “The owner always gives me extra portions.”

“Why? Did you sell a lot of fish?” Molly asked, with a smile.

“Nope,” Sherlock smirked. “I helped him put up some shelves.”