Dressing Room (Johnlock) There was only half an hour to go before the biggest ballet performance of Sherlock’s life. Broadway talent scouts were in the audience just to watch him; he was being considered for a part in an upcoming show. John was with him backstage, there for moral support. For a while he was doing quite well at keeping Sherlock’s nerves down, but it got increasingly harder for John to think as Sherlock unbuttoned his too-tight shirt and let it fall to the fall to the floor. He blended tattoo concealer of the works of art that adorned his shoulders and chest, his skin turning alabaster in place of it’s usual array of colors.
“John, I can’t reach.” Sherlock gestured to the tattoo on his back.
“You want me to--” Sherlock nodded and handed the concealer to John. He was a bit caught off guard at Sherlock’s request. The two of them left everything desperately unspoken, as usual. By now, they were almost sure
Without looking at my Favorites Gallery or my own submissions, the best description I can give of myself is "hopeless romantic".
I love all things elegant, flamboyant, individualistally unique (how can you not love Rick the People's Poet's pigtails?), timeless to dated, creative...well, I adore what I adore, and I'm not making apologies for it here!
Please drop me a line. I'll get back to you as soon if I ever put down my latest copy of "Bliss Victoria" or "Romantic Homes"...
Favourite genre of music: Classical to Crooner
Favourite style of art: All media
Favourite cartoon character: Do I have to have ony ONE?!!! Check out my Favorites, and see how tough a decision I'd have!