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Sherlock likes to wrap his arms around John's waist and pull him closer against his body while he kisses him, slowly and sweetly, taking his time to feel John's lips on his, and, in the end, Sherlock won't pull away. He will press his forehead against John's and smile.

You know why?

Because Sherlock loves John.


Their first kiss happens when Sherlock shows Victor the old letters he kept from when they were sending them to each other after Victor moved.

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Victor is sometimes able to win an argument from Sherlock, but Sherlock is unable to sulk before the taller man pulls him in his arms and smothers him with kisses.

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I’d love it if even one person did this

Go on ANON and tell me what you think of me. I do not want to know who it is, at all. Don’t tell me who it is, don’t give me hints, don’t say your screen name. Tell me exactly what you think of me. Don’t sugarcoat things. Don’t lie. If you hate me, tell me why. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. If you like me, tell me why. Tell me exactly what you think of me.

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Mary Morstan according to character tropes

Sherlock Holmes (x) John Watson (x) Johnlock (x)


What if Sherlock deduces John’s going to kiss him right before it happens and he doesn’t know what to do so he blurts some random facts about bees and “Adipocere formation is not a universal phenomenon during decomposition.” but John waits for him to finish, slowly invading Sherlock’s personal space, making him talk faster and faster, and kisses him when he’s run out of words and Sherlock is so stunned he doesn’t speak for a long time afterwards.

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imagine kid!sherlock getting picked on at school for being so ‘odd’, coming home with bruises on his skin and on his heart almost everyday

imagine kid!sherlock’s mum and dad getting him a little puppy, sherlock’s only best friend, whom he calls redbeard, and everyday sherlock would wait to come home from school, not caring about the amounts of insults or bruises he gets, because it means that he comes back to someone who actually loves him for exactly who he is. 

imagine sherlock coming back from school, just to be faced with his parents who tell him that they have to put redbeard down, that his one and only friend will be gone and never ever come back, that he’ll be just as alone as he used to be without redbeard. 

imagine him growing cold. 

imagine him going towards drugs because they make him feel more human than he ever can be. 

imagine sherlock, now grown up and looking for a flatmate, but knowing he won’t find one because no one can tolerate him or be around him without calling him a freak. but he gets one, and his name is john, and he guards sherlock from the insults he faces and heals the bruises on his heart. and john loves sherlock exactly for who he is. 

imagine sherlock coming back to john after two very long years, just to see that he lost john to someone else. to someone better.

imagine sherlock thinking about how everybody leaves him, that he shouldn’t bother with love because it’s found on the losing side.

except, loving john watson is worth losing many battles. 

imagine him going back to drugs because he wants to stay warm, not cold. 

imagine sherlock realizing that he is capable of loving, but not capable of being loved. 

imagine sherlock feeling those bruises form in his heart again, but having no one to heal them for him, having no one to love him. 

so he stays broken, shattered, but makes sure nothing touches john hamish watson because the last thing sherlock would want is to see the person he loves go down the same path he did. 

imagine him shooting someone just for john with no regard to the consequences.

because no punishment could hurt more than not being loved. 

Why are we playing games? London’s terror alert has been raised to critical. I’m just passing the time.


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