#xnotourdivisionx

[thewxman]

An hour and twenty three minutes, she had been waiting in the interrogation room of New Scotland Yard. Her fingertips drummed, restless, against the metal table before her, atop it an untouched plastic cup of water, the surface rippling with every tap of her red-lacquered nails. She was alone in the room, bar the tape recorder to her left, an incessantly loud clock, and the two-way mirror mounted on her right, which in fact meant that she was far less alone than she felt. 

She exhaled impatiently, the air leaving her in a huff, somewhat reminiscent of an impertinent teenager. Yes, she had been in worse situations— but this was far from a walk in the park. A hand on the clock dragged itself further another minute, and all at once her palms connected with the cold surface of the table with a clang, the underside of a diamond ring leaving the unpleasant sound resonating around the room.

        “ I know you’re just standing there watching and I know very well that you can hear me. Will someone please come and put me out of my misery by telling me just why you’re keeping me in here? ”

{ @xnotourdivisionx | liked for a starter [x] }

[losingsiide-archive-blog]

     “ this is exactly why you can’t meet my parents. ”

( @xnotourdivisionx )

[toldabetterstory-archived]

@xnotourdivisionx ( Greg Lestrade ) liked for a short starter

{ sms; lestrade, greg }: check the suspects’ left thumb. if there is a scar then he is guilty. - SH { sms; lestrade, greg }: if thumb is unscarred, then move on to suspect no. 2 - SH

[watsonofagun]

👅

this nsfw thing.   ; not accepting👅 - to have oral sex with my muse. 

Greg was right. Greg was always right. Why did John even think of arguing with him?

Maybe because John had always been mental. Especially not after witnessing the fall of his best friend. Closing the doors, confining himself to his depressive thoughts, refusing all approaches from his friends. At least there wasn’t a crying need to be out; he would only be hounded by reporters anyway, all eager to find out what he had to say about the fake news. As if what he had already announced on his blog wasn’t enough of what bull he thought of them for believing in the rumours.

But Greg bloody infiltrated his flat. Mrs. Hudson would give the keys if it were in the name of aiding police investigations, but it was easy for the detective inspector to bluff it. Didn’t mean John would be anymore compliant than he had been when he first punched Greg’s superior—–so he punched Greg too.

And in return, had his arms pinned behind his back, chest pressed to the wall, and lips crushed by lips.

Wasn’t entirely pleasant. After all, both had a lot of anger in them, so a lot of teeth was involved. John thought he might have tasted blood, and when he did, Greg had already changed targets to his jaw, his neck, bloody bit into him—

Was that his belt buckle coming loose?

         “No—Greg—”

Despite what he said, his body was familiar with the state of compliance when dominated by the inspector on certain ‘special’ days. The grip on his wrists was a means to maneuver him, pushing him down a little so that he was forced to bend some degrees. The trousers and pants pooled at his spread ankles, and he made the mistake of looking behind.

Greg lowered to the level of his arse, giving him a look that had him weak in the knees.The bloody inspector knew that, if John had the choice, he wouldn’t let him literally kiss his arse, even if it left him the most boneless with ecstasy.

        “Oh, God.”

He really meant it when he said he was here to make John relax. Fuck.

[obscrve-blog]

     “ if either of us is a sex god, it’s you. ”

( @xnotourdivisionx // when have i or sherlock ever had any chill )

[jingleboi]

(( My friend is so talented! <3 ))

[geniusofdeduction-blog]

™

                           Send me “™” if you think I’m quality!

AHAHA GIF IS 100% RELEVANT!

[pirateiisms-blog]

@xnotourdivisionx

“Who are you?”

[dprofjamesmoriarty-blog]

“I hope the information you dragged me out here for is worth it, if you want to live that is.”

@xnotourdivisionx

[blammoran]

((Okay but you're not true shipping trash until you actively ship mark/jez))

[thewxman]

"How's the business going? Heard you're still getting paid to dominate people." [[ -SCREAMING- ]]

     “ You’ve heard correct. Business is simply booming.              — Something the matter, Detective Inspector? ”

{ @xnotourdivisionx | answered }

[losingsiide-archive-blog]

( sent // greg lestrade ) i think this man is trying to flirt with me. ( sent // greg lestrade ) he called me 'babe.' ( sent // greg lestrade ) it sounds much better when you say it. ( sent // greg lestrade ) come arrest him for attempted burglary. ( sent // greg lestrade ) he’s trying to steal your man.

( @xnotourdivisionx )

[toldabetterstory-archived]

12, 13, 15

SEX HEADCANONS MEME

Kinkyness

Sherlock would not consider himself to be particularly kinky. He also wouldn’t consider many of his kinks to be kinks — that would be acknowledging to everyone that he is a sexual being. I wouldn’t call him incredibly kinky but he has a few. He enjoys being dominated/topped, as a person who values control — selectively letting it go at times can be very beneficial for him. He has a Military Kink that he cannot help; he isn’t sure why but it’s partially connected to the fact that he only allows himself to be bossed around sexually. Sherlock refers to it as Selectively Submissive; he chooses to be so ergo it’s still in his control.

Sex Positions

Much of this is varied between partners, gender & intensity. He is a fan of the classic vanilla missionary for more lazier or romantically charged settings. Eye contact is important to him; he prefers it to be maintained whenever possible. Even if just through a reflection. He also doesn’t enjoy positions that create distance or limited contact. He enjoys being as physically close as possible ( I could go into paragraphs on this but for now we will leave it at that ). He is always a fan of the classic ‘pressing one person against a wall as their legs wrap around your waist’ move — especially as he is extremely capable of performing either end of it. Of course, he is a show-off so exceptions arise when he is given a chance to do so. He is still rather flexible from his years of dance & running over London helps keep him limber; any chance to remind a partner of this is one he will usually take ( at least once just to try it ).

Sexual Positions — already answered.

[watsonofagun]

[[-tosses that url thing over-]]

Send me a character/URL and my muse will explain their relationship with them.

            “Boyfriend. ---I mean, colleagues. Friends. ...More than friends.            We help each other, a lot. This line of work can be rather stressful,            see.”

[obscrve-blog]

— — — “ that woman from the yard who thinks you’re attractive will be there. ” he gives no further explanation, only a screeching noise from his violin to express his distaste for her. 

&& CONTINUED. @xnotourdivisionx

[jingleboi]

xnotourdivisionx//blast from the past

Fuck

What the hell had happened? Why did his head feel like it was in a vice? Why were his ears ringing much more than usual?

He shifted a little, testing his movement. Nothing seemed to be broken or missing. No more than usual, anyway. Pegleg and arm still attached even.

He didn’t move to get up just yet though, keeping his eyes stubbornly closed. His memory was shit at the best of times, but he pushed himself to go back over what had happened.

They’d been in the drop ship at Kings Row. Some civil unrest stuff he’d been utterly uninterested in, some demolition that needed doing that he’d been only too happy to provide. But they’d had to wait for their contact to come and it had been what felt like hours. Anyone who knew Junkrat knew that he hated waiting. The energy vibrating through his body needed an outlet. That outlet, this time, had been bothering the big ape.

He’d been making something, some new ‘chronal accelerator‘ whatever doohickey, for Tracer. It looked like a bomb to Junkrat, he knew she had them and never did let him get a good look, it must have been one of those, and so of course he’d done what he was prone to do when he was bored, and pinched it when Winston wasn’t looking, adding it to his own sizable collection of explosives.

Their contact had arrived, he remembered that much... then he’d set up his bombs on the large steel door they needed to get through... the chronal whatever included, since it glowed dangerously and looked like it might make a decent bang.

Something had gone wrong though. One had been set off early while he was still wiring up. It was a miracle, then, that he was still alive. He finally cracked open his eyes with a groan, sitting up and looking around. Wherever he was, it looked like even more of a shithole than Kings Row usually was. Fuck, the cars even all had wheels. He got to his feet and stumbled back a bit, feeling himself bump into someone behind him. He spun around, reaching for his launcher but coming up bare. Aside from his RIP tire, he didn’t have anything to defend himself with, so he balled his hands into fists, the metal one could pull a mean punch if needed, “Oi! Who are you? Y’interupting an important mission.”