WHAT

holy shit theres a lightning storm outside its insane i fucking hate whatever version of winter this shit is

every time you say you're gonna leave, that's when you get the very best of me

CALM aesthetic [4/12]: Easier - 5 Seconds Of Summer

The saga continues with another tv show idea I had:

A show about a person with OCD superpower, like telekinesis things to the right place or just kinda snaps their fingers and boom everything is perfect

omg oMG OMFG HEAR ME OUT .

a show about a queer vampire.

called DRAGULA

Is this what bothers you the most about the damn rat?

ron: sure i'm gonna take my beloved rat into school with me, even though rats are not allowed and cats, the natural enemy of rats, are

😂

Yesss i wanna die comedically

your 12th emoji is how you'll die

☕️

I started this yesterday and finished it today. Definitely would recommend to anyone who likes killing eve <3

The End of the F***ing World (2017)

all hail queen taylor

Some of the celebrities who have defended Taylor Swift ❤️

love is fatal, won't you give it a chance?

CALM aesthetic [2/12]: No Shame - 5 Seconds Of Summer

Sherlock: I'm fucking outta here!

Ms. Hudson: hey, don't swear!

Sherlock: I do what I want, I'm punk rock.

John: no you're not.

After dinner

They stood on the quiet street, it was late now, after the shooting and the police sirens the buzz of that evenings events had quietened and whilst the meal had been pleasant it was clear neither of them knew exactly where they stood.

“Okay then, till next time” said Sherlock descisively, he nodded his head as if to signal that was it then spun round to walk away.

John realised he didn’t want him to leave, panicked, he blurted out,

“I have a bit of a soft spot for you” he blushed, surprised at himself he dropped his head, not wanting to see Sherlock’s reaction.

As Sherlock turned to look at John, he added quietly,

“Actually quite a big soft spot”,

Still looking down he noticed Sherlock was close now.

“And where is this .....soft spot?” Sherlock’s voice was gentle and low, but suggestive.

Johns breath was gone, knocked out of his chest by the words.

He looked up at Sherlock, eyes locked on his but he did not speak.

Sherlock’s eyes travelled down Johns face, then body, then back up to his eyes. He held Johns gaze, whose breath was still baited, and slowly reached out to touch Johns chest.

“Is it here?”

As his fingers made contact lightly with Johns cotton shirt electricity jolted through his skin and burned along the path Sherlock trailed upwards. When he reached the skin of Johns neck his involuntary intake of breath was so sharp it cut through the silence, as he parted his lips to allow it escape Sherlock’s hand cupped his chin and his mouth descended upon Johns.

Nervous energy exploded inside Johns body, Sherlock’s lips were soft and generous, this was new to John and his mind was racing, yet he couldn’t think, this man he had known for a matter of days, with his lips pressed against Johns was now all he could concentrate on.

“I’m not gay” popped into his head but was swiftly dismissed as Sherlock’s other hand reached around Johns back and pulled him closer. John stopped trying to think and let go, reacting by pushing his body forwards, into Sherlock and tilting his chin up to kiss him back.

I dawned on him slowly that, although it was late, they were still literally just kissing in the street, he dropped his chin and the contact was broken. Sherlock studied Johns face,

“Baker Street?” He questioned,

“Oh god yes”