Taking photos with my iPhone4 since 2011 - None of my photo's are edited
btw, the girl in my icon is not me- though I wish I looked like her.
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Oneword: FixedOneword: Fixed by ~floppybelly
Watson scratched at Gladstone's scruff, causing the dog to give a heavy groan and roll onto his back. Watson knew immediately why his partner had been acting so skittish around him.
The detective winced and poked his head into Watson's study. "Yes, my dear Watson?"
Watson crossed his arms and tapped his foot, gesturing with his chin at the lazy bulldog at his feet. "Did you have my dog FIXED? Did you have MY dog bloody fixed?!?"
"Well, er Not exactly," the eccentric scientist scrubbed at his stubble with one hand, "I didn't have him fixed so much as I er Took the liberty myself. I knew you wouldn't appreciate the veterinarian bill." He threw his hands up in defense as the livid doctor started coming at him. "I assure you, he was very good about it, hardly felt a thing! And it was entirely necessary- the neighbors have just moved in with an Irish Setter bitch, you see, and I would hate for poor Gladstone to have to constantly fight temptation."
Watson stopped with
Oneword: PastelOneword: Pastel by ~floppybelly
John ran his eyes over the stark white planes next to him in bed, smooth and unblemished and oh-so-touchable. Sherlock tried to ignore John's unabashed staring, his eyes buried in his book as he scooted a little further back against the headboard. After another chapter, however, he became agitated at the scrutiny. "John." He peered down at the serene doctor, curled on his side, who met his gaze with a bit of a dopey grin. "You were staring? What's on your mind?"
John rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling as though to shield him a bit from the personal confession, "I was just... Kinda got caught up in... How beautiful you can be sometimes. Sorry." He turned to Sherlock for acceptance, and was surprised to find the younger man blushing at the heartfelt compliment, his cheeks a pastel shade of pink which was quite rare on the angular surface. John continued, as though to take advantage of his mental momentum. "it's just, well, this is still a bit foreign to me, the idea of being ar
Oneword: DurationOneword: Duration by ~floppybelly
Sherlock slid down to the matress with a soft shudder of exhaustion as John slid gently out, fighting the urge to immediately clench back to a normal state of tightness. John had warned him that would hurt, and at this point Sherlock was inclined to take the doctor's word as law. Sherlock turned onto his side to instead focus on the face of his partner, who had rolled off to catch his breath. Sherlock studied the signs (pupils still dilated, cheeks and chest flushed, creases lessened) and smiled. It had been good.
John was not so self-assured, considering Sherlock's front was not as messy as his own, so he reached out and took a hold of the pale, graceful fingers with a gentle squeeze. "How are you feeling?" John nuzzled his head into Sherlock's neck to catch the low vibrations of his reply.
"Irrelevant," Sherlock murmured with a squeeze in return at John's fingers, "You're satisfied now, that's the important part." He curled one long leg around John's hips to draw him in closer.
Oneword: SweatOneword: Sweat by ~floppybelly
John fanned himself lazily with the front of his tee shirt as a bead of sweat rolled between his pectorals. It had been a particularly hot morning, and the rising heat had collected in his upstairs bedroom, forcing him out of bed and into the kitchen for some fresh air.
He'd been up for awhile now, and had sat down at his computer to check on the blog and see if there might be a new case. Sherlock's boredom was starting to become extreme; yesterday he'd resorted to pulling out the phone book and (mentally) sorting all the surnames by frequency. Today, he was still holed up in his bedroom, sound asleep. It was odd to have the house so quiet, as John was used to being last to rise. Finally, however, he heard the sounds of Sherlock stirring, and called back to him, "There's a new client asking about you, sounds interesting. Might be a 7 or an 8." John stood to put a kettle on and some bread in the toaster.
Sherlock rushed out to the computer, eager to take on something to dull the boredom