kaciart:

I just wanted to draw them comfortable in eachothers company.

getsherlockinmybed:

sherlock-is-my-bby:

If there comes a day that I don’t reblog this, please assume I am dead.

I’m reblogging this from the afterlife.

(Source: sherlockspeare)

archiaart:

So a person commissioned sweet Sherlock/John smut. It was just supposed to be a coloured sketch but I got a little carried away 8D

(Source: sh2jw)

idrillia:

atlinmerrick:

None of the sounds I am making form words…

klomewhatmay:

this loOKS LIKE JOHNLOCK

NSFW Seriously. Johnlock omfg.

(Source: sh2jw)

(Source: bluebellglowinginthedark)

archiaart:

Greedy needy Sherlock and his John ♥

darlingbenny:

lol based on this?

medical-assassin:

So, the premise of oil wrestling is this: first, get greased up with olive oil.

You need lots of oil.

This man may or may not be oiled enough.

This man looks suitably oiled.

Grab a friend.

Join a team.

And then start wrestling.

Yep. Wrestling.

The goal is to get a hold on your opponent’s kisbet, or specially made pants.

Seriously. The most effective way to win is to you shove your arm down another man’s pants.

It’s actual wrestling. See?

Good lord.

It just ends like this.

Or this.

Sometimes winning looks like this.

And sometimes it looks like this.

Yay! You won!

But wrestlers don’t hold grudges.

Opponents can still be friends.

So, thank you, Turkish oil wrestlers, for existing.

THANK YOU.

cumberbitchsandwich:

tundrawoman:

milkbubble:

Et voilà.

Casually scrolling my dash at a meeting at work, when BAM! PORN!

redcat18:

“You need to know who is your owner.”

sh2jw:

Not Sherlock & John.

It’s just ‘Polymorphing Smaug’ and ‘Bilbo Baggins’:-p

LOLOLOLOLOLOL

loki-cat:

jesus christ

mazarin221b:

detectivelyd:

Let’s play How Many Seconds Until This Gets Removed from Imageshack.

Reblogging again to add a little ficlet:

To Each (NC-17)

“That’s my favorite position, you know,” Sherlock says as he strolls out of the bathroom, hair damp, dark ringlets curling over his forehead.

“Hmmm?” is all John manages, because Sherlock is wet and distractingly naked, and this thing between them is still so new and ever-so-slightly timid he’s unsure what more he could, or should, say.

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