Apr 30, 2013
cableknittrigger replied to your post: [so my john actually functions as my john irl and...
(U BETTER GOODNIGHT I LOVE YOU SMOOCHES AGGRESSIVELY)
[my jawn, ladies and gentlemen. <3]
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cableknittrigger replied to your post: [so my john actually functions as my john irl and...
(U BETTER GOODNIGHT I LOVE YOU SMOOCHES AGGRESSIVELY)
[my jawn, ladies and gentlemen. <3]
cableknittrigger replied to your post: Also, 8, 17 and 20.
Subtlety.
Answer my question.
Also, 8, 17 and 20.
8. Sex on the bed, couch or the floor?
Bed. Too tall for the couch, and floor seems uncomfortable. And with our flat, unsanitary.
17. A song you’d listen to during soft/slow/passionate sex?
We've been over this. No music.
20: If you could have sex with anyone right now, who would it be?
Am I to assume you mean someone other than yourself?
Also, I hope you realise you can always just ask me these.
We haven't even had full-on intercourse yet.
Oh really, I wasn't aware.
Stop worrying. It's unbecoming.
M!A: You're eleven years old in mind and form until next Thursday.
Wha--
[It's been a while since he'd transformed in any way, he's completely unprepared.]
Er. Right. Where am I, please?
cableknittrigger replied to your post: M!A: You. The army doctor. Mistletoe. Make it happen.
“Hm?” John looks up from his place on the chair, before he shakes his head. “I put it up. Christmas is just in a few weeks, and I decided to do some early decorating while Mrs. Hudson was doing hers. Lights on the stairwell, whatnot.”
"You did?" Sherlock's certainly surprised. John, although he was the one who'd insisted on a Christmas tree in years past, had never shown much real initiative for decorating past a garland over the fireplace. Certainly not... "Mistletoe, though? Really?"
M!A: You. The army doctor. Mistletoe. Make it happen.
Sherlock heads out of his "fortress" [not funny, John] towards the front room, fully intending on settling into his chair with his laptop and some crap television. He's stopped in his tracks when he feels something get caught in his hair, and he looks up to find a rather large sprig of mistletoe hung in the open doorframe between front room and kitchen.
"I see Mrs. Hudson has started her decorating early," he mutters. "John, was this put up while you were out?"