tagged → #fc #queue
daggermandias:

Figured I’d reward you guys with some actual dick. Nsfw and bad anatomy in the click through, beware.
For the lovely guixonlove, because she’s amazing and it’s as simple as that.

daggermandias:

Figured I’d reward you guys with some actual dick. Nsfw and bad anatomy in the click through, beware.

For the lovely guixonlove, because she’s amazing and it’s as simple as that.

tagged → #sherlock needs #nsfw
Soul Mates // Sherlock & John

jhwjohnwatson:

beforethedetective:

Sherlock looked at John for a moment before entering the cafe, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t looked back at him since they began walking again. This man was supposed to be something special to him, but he was treating him like any other. He had expected a bit of outrage and confusion, but not for him to be so… cool with him. Sherlock resolved to investigate further. Now that he knew who he was - and that he had a soulmate in the first place - he resolved to find out everything he could about him, and discover why he was different.

He went straight to a table and sat, shrugging his coat over the back of a chair and clasping his hands in front of him. He’d get a drink in a bit. He waited for John to sit opposite him before he began.

“My name is Sherlock Holmes. I am 26 years old. I am technically unemployed, but I earn money solving crimes and cases for those that can pay. I work with the police on occasion, but we do not have the best record, seeing as mine is criminal.” He waited for a reaction, knowing that the words ‘criminal’ and ‘unemployed’ were likely to ring the loudest. He also held back on telling John what he knew about him, though it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave. It would get out eventually. He just had to temper the damage he would cause, and hope he didn’t push John away before he got a chance to fathom why he was his soulmate.

John took a seat across from Sherlock and was struck with an array on information to absorb, some of it quite shocking. He was more surprised still that this man honestly professed such faults upon first meeting, and did so without so much of a bat of an eye. ” … Well ah…” He began, unsure what to say, ” Solving crimes…? That’s rather interesting. Must be quite good at it if you’ve got a record and the police are letting you on board.” He mentioned, unable to consider the idea that someone so posh would get a record for anything more than speeding tickets and recreational drug use. He adjusted his glasses, and then took them off to clean them.

" I ah-.. I’m John Watson, like I said. I’m 27, and I’m studying to for a medical degree here in London. My degree will provide me with the credentials to be a surgeon, but I’d like to be a paramedic personally. I haven’t ever been arrested before…" He said, considering before saying as well, " I also work at a pharmacy near to the university I attend. It’s good enough money. " He explained, smiling a bit sheepishly, finding himself a bit intimidated by the hard stare Sherlock was giving him across the table." Do you have a degree in pathology or something? Why aren’t you a proper police officer?" 

"I have a degree in chemistry. Joining the police force does not interest me. I want to solve puzzles. I work for myself, no one else." He unbuttoned his jacket and pressed his fingers together, resting his chin on the tips.

"I know all that," he said, flapping a hand dismissively. "I know you were on your way home from a lecture you didn’t find particularly interesting. I know you were brought up close to London, enough to visit occasionally, and that you have lived here since you were 18. You live alone, and are not particularly interested in a relationship or a roommate. You are comfortably bisexual, but you tend not to tell people. The idea of a soulmate was important to you, because many of your friends have found their’s, and formed deep, probably romantic attachments to the person they matched with. I also deduct and infer information about people from what I can observe about them, a skill which more could have if they opened their eyes properly. But they don’t, so I am left alone with a hundred idiots convinced I am a freak and a stalker. I can assure you, I am neither… Would you like a coffee?" he offered tentatively, unsure if John would accept after that.

tagged → #jhwjohnwatson
Soul Mates // Sherlock & John

jhwjohnwatson:

beforethedetective:

Sherlock hadn’t noticed they were still walking and he stopped, looking around. They weren’t far from the tube station, and it was one close to the centre of a town in London. He looked a little lost until he got his bearings, and he looked down at John’s hand in his as though it was alien.

"I don’t know," he admitted, biting his lip, still frowning hard. He slid his hand from John’s and pushed his sleeve up again, checking it, making double sure. He tilted it towards the sun and squinted. It hadn’t changed. Still a row of zeros. And he still couldn’t take in the fact that it had changed.

He took a deep breath and looked at John, properly, for the first time. His eyes bored into him, as though they were peeling layers of meaning from him and analysing each one. Which, in a way, they were. John was a student, but older, so medical, still in training. Reasonable financial state, judging by his clothes. Short-sighted, but not too bad, and no other sight problems. Relatively healthy everywhere else, and not unfit in the slightest. And, he supposed, attractive. He was well-proportioned, he had a nice smile and soft, steady hands, dark eyes, and an expressive forehead. His hair looked soft, and Sherlock wanted already to put his hands into it, although he restrained himself from that.

"I am uncertain as to how I am supposed to behave in this situation. I don’t know if I am supposed to feel different. Or act differently." He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back, distressed. He hated being out of his depth, and he was so far out. "Coffee?" he offered.


John felt a sting of unexpected rejection when Sherlock pulled his hand away, and was further discomforted by that intense stare that lasted longer than a minute before Sherlock spoke out. He nodded a little. “ Ah… Sure.” He said weakly, confused as well as to what he ought to do, or why Sherlock had looked at him so intensely and with what John felt was a stare that peeled back his layers and bore into private places. He nervously slipped his hand into his own pocket as well, making it unavailable to reclaim and nodded in a direction down the street.


“ There should be a coffee place somewhere around here.” He assured, licking his lips and reaching his other hand from his back to adjust his glasses. He made to walk down the street next to Sherlock, and wondered what he ought to say- what he ought to share first with this person that was meant forever to be in his life. He had so many friends who had met their soul mates, every single one of them had romantic, or at least interesting stories about how they met, what they talked about, how it felt… What was his meeting with his soul mate? ‘He dragged me out of the train station and I felt incredibly awkward’. He sighed, and bit his lip for a moment, before spotting a small cafe. “ … Here.” He gestured, supposing that surely not everyone had amazing first meetings, and perhaps it would just take time. He held the door open for Sherlock, and kept his gaze diverted.

Sherlock looked at John for a moment before entering the cafe, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t looked back at him since they began walking again. This man was supposed to be something special to him, but he was treating him like any other. He had expected a bit of outrage and confusion, but not for him to be so… cool with him. Sherlock resolved to investigate further. Now that he knew who he was - and that he had a soulmate in the first place - he resolved to find out everything he could about him, and discover why he was different.

He went straight to a table and sat, shrugging his coat over the back of a chair and clasping his hands in front of him. He’d get a drink in a bit. He waited for John to sit opposite him before he began.

“My name is Sherlock Holmes. I am 26 years old. I am technically unemployed, but I earn money solving crimes and cases for those that can pay. I work with the police on occasion, but we do not have the best record, seeing as mine is criminal.” He waited for a reaction, knowing that the words ‘criminal’ and ‘unemployed’ were likely to ring the loudest. He also held back on telling John what he knew about him, though it was like trying to hold back a tidal wave. It would get out eventually. He just had to temper the damage he would cause, and hope he didn’t push John away before he got a chance to fathom why he was his soulmate.

bitchlocked:

If you don’t know by now that I have a penchant for Sherlock in lacy things and the like, where the hell have you been.
Also John’s jumper and a spreader bar. Ok.

bitchlocked:

If you don’t know by now that I have a penchant for Sherlock in lacy things and the like, where the hell have you been.

Also John’s jumper and a spreader bar. Ok.

tagged → #whoops I slipped #nsfw #queue
tagged → #home #queue
Track Title: Get Home

Artist: Bastille

Album: Bad Blood

weekendplaylist:

Get Home // Bastille 

tagged → #music
tagged → #sherlock needs
"I always try to dance when this song comes on because I am the Queen and I like to dance."

Queen Elizabeth II about the song Dancing Queen (x)

(via beggars-opera)

tagged → #BRITAIN
Soul Mates // Sherlock & John

jhwjohnwatson:

beforethedetective:

Sherlock stopped walking and turned to look at him, dropping his hands to his sides and taking a step back.

"I never claimed it to not be important. You are misunderstanding me." He pressed his lips together, trying to find a way to vocalise the fact that he had compared himself to normal people for years and found himself lacking in something that seemed to make other people happy. He was happy with himself, but any attempts to reach out to people and even make friends had fallen flat and left him alone.

"I am aware that the concept is important, and whether romantic or not, the person who matches your time is your ‘soulmate’," he said, with a small amount of disdain. "I did not expect to ever have a soulmate. I had come to terms with the fact that I would be one of those who never reached zero. I’m intrigued. I’m Sherlock." He hesitated, then extended a hand, attempting to bridge what seemed to already be a rift between the two strangers. 

John’s brows furrowed, confused by the notion. Was he saying he expected… to always be alone? John’s stern disposition softened a little and he took a moment to select his words carefully, extending his hand for Sherlock to take. ” Well… you found me, Sherlock. You’ve reached zero, and found me.” He said, hoping that that was enough to clarify the security he meant to convey; that he wasn’t alone, and that John and he were meant to be together for good. He didn’t really understand it- wasn’t it supposed to be some sort of magical connection?Wasn’t everything supposed to feel right with the world suddenly?

He felt like nothing had changed- just that he’d met a stranger who admitted to him an intimate, honest opinion. If anything, he suddenly felt a sense of duty. He was chosen, made, for this man, for Sherlock, and it was his responsibility- his place in the making of things to support him. He took Sherlock’s hand carefully in his own, testing the contact, and finding it foreign, but not uncomfortable enough to pull away. ” Walk a little slower- you’re taller than me and you’ll leave me in your dust.” He urged, offering a bit of smile. ” … Where are we going, Sherlock?” 

Sherlock hadn’t noticed they were still walking and he stopped, looking around. They weren’t far from the tube station, and it was one close to the centre of a town in London. He looked a little lost until he got his bearings, and he looked down at John’s hand in his as though it was alien.

"I don’t know," he admitted, biting his lip, still frowning hard. He slid his hand from John’s and pushed his sleeve up again, checking it, making double sure. He tilted it towards the sun and squinted. It hadn’t changed. Still a row of zeros. And he still couldn’t take in the fact that it had changed.

He took a deep breath and looked at John, properly, for the first time. His eyes bored into him, as though they were peeling layers of meaning from him and analysing each one. Which, in a way, they were. John was a student, but older, so medical, still in training. Reasonable financial state, judging by his clothes. Short-sighted, but not too bad, and no other sight problems. Relatively healthy everywhere else, and not unfit in the slightest. And, he supposed, attractive. He was well-proportioned, he had a nice smile and soft, steady hands, dark eyes, and an expressive forehead. His hair looked soft, and Sherlock wanted already to put his hands into it, although he restrained himself from that.

"I am uncertain as to how I am supposed to behave in this situation. I don’t know if I am supposed to feel different. Or act differently." He ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back, distressed. He hated being out of his depth, and he was so far out. "Coffee?" he offered.

tagged → #jhwjohnwatson