I am the species they call fangirl but you can call me Ronnie *~* I am obsessed with JohnLock and cute gay couples, I love to read fanfiction and and drool over my otps. I will ship anything from fantasy to reality. If you want to know more about me or my fandoms then go ahead and ask me!
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Reblogged from sneakyweek  3,120 notes
  • On tumblr alone:

    art, wisdom, inspirational quotes, beautiful photographs, true love, cats, happiness.

  • On tumblr with family looking over your shoulder:

    blood, porn, violence, drugs, politics, porn

  • On tumblr with small children watching you:

    PORN PORN GAY PORN STRAIGHT PORN ALL THE PORN DID WE MENTION BONDAGE AND PENISES

Reblogged from mhimsa  5 notes

mhimsa:

So apparently I missed a whole lot of military kink!Sherlock talk last night on tumblrs and I am very unhappy about this!

ALL THE SEXY SOLDIER LOVING SHERLOCK AND I WAS NOT AROUND TO SEE IT?

How you imagine john and Sherlock's first kiss would happen/be like if they became canon!

mojoflower:

navydream:

Not shitting you, I have money on it! like 25 cents

Yeah.  If it were canon?  If Moffat were writing it, egged on by Gatiss?

I think it would be a little thing.  A surprise peck when Sherlock is leaving to meet Moran, knowing it will be dangerous, and unwilling to involve John.  I think he will shrug into his coat… his battle-dress, and turn at the door… hovering uncertain on the landing.  John will stand, limned by the horrible fluorescent kitchen light, suspicious and hurt that Sherlock is leaving him home.  His hands will be clenched by his sides, legs spread in a stance meant to brace, to steady him against the buffeting of life.  And his eyes will glare, stare, BURN into Sherlock’s, because he KNOWS it’s a lie.

And Sherlock will pop his collar and look at the man.  His eyes will travel over worn skin, deep carved lines, rendered sinew and uncrushable determination.  He’ll be more trapped in the gaze of navy blue than John will be enmired in a churning sea of blue and grey.

Because it’s the last chance.  Sherlock knows it.  He lives his life running numbers, playing opportunities, gambling for the next answer at the expense of his life. 

Sherlock will jolt forward, surprising them both.  Uncharacteristically clumsy, he’ll grab the cheap polyester, plaid collar before him, drag John forward until they bump at the wrong velocity, mash dried lips against a surprised gasp.

And then he’ll run away.  He won’t stay to make it right, to make it sexy.  He’ll leave John with wide eyes and opened mouth.  He’ll leap down the stairs three at a time saying in his head, “I’ll be back before midnight, John,” but actually forgetting to say anything at all.  He’ll call a cab and slide inside before John’s removed numb fingers from buzzing lips.

That’s their first kiss.

And their next interaction is John’s frigid anger, while he cleans and stitches Sherlock’s bullet wound.

And after that.  After that.

Things heat up.

And the screen will fade to black.