#so soft and tender

[goat-fanatic]

care.

[agent-troi]

oh…🥺

[asm0b4by]

You love me, you love me right? You love Asmodeus and you don’t love anyone as much as you love Asmodeus. Asmodeus is your one true love, your one true desire. You’d kill for me to look in your direction, you’d offer your warm, bloodied heart on a golden platter to receive my affection. Tell me you love Asmodeus, tell me you love me ❣️💋

[observers-journal]

Tenochito at some party (source: IG user pictures, contact for credit if needed)

Like him in a waistcoat I guess? Bae looks tired but that hair has me swooning. 🥰😍

[zero-witch]

THATS MY BOY, WESTERN CASCADE SALAMANDER LETS GOOOO

"Gentle Giant of Wizard Island" 12x12", Ink and watercolor, 2023. By Emily Poole.

[tawnysoup]

“I’m just not used to it.”

[bisexualcroissant]

andrew helping neil shower was so tender i’m crying into my fucking fist. andrew wrapping up neil’s wounds so they wouldn’t hurt in the water. andrew helping him take his clothes off to shower because it caused neil too much pain to pull them all the way off. andrew washing neil’s hair. andrew helping him stand up when he was struggling to balance. and then neil crossing his arms behind andrew’s head to keep him closer, tilting andrew’s face up to kiss him. i’m so fucking soft for them oh my god

[topsyturvy-turtely]

john mad for sherlock

sherlock mad for john

me mad for them

Next Time

by helloliriels

"You know," John was shouting over his shoulder, "the NEXT TIME, YOU TELL ME YOU LOVE ME, YOU COULD TRY TO SHOW IT TOO!!" He was slamming things now, muttering to himself, pulling tea out of the cupboard angrily, swinging the kettle to go refill it, popping the lid on top, and then just -

freezing

as if hung up

mid-swing -

as he realized the words that had just come out of his own mouth!

What

had

he

just... shouted?...

Out loud?...

at Sherlock?

Shit.

Those words had been said out loud hadn't they? His eyes narrowed...

Had they?

He slowly turned around -

To see Sherlock standing in the door frame between his room and the kitchen. Also halted.

And staring back at John.

Gaping, really.

As John watched, he shut his mouth (with a great deal of effort). And was tilting his head to the side now, like an owl (or a cat, very feline)... Thinking.

John knew that look.

He was contemplating John's words. John's inescapably stupid, and quite unfortunately

escaped -

out into the open,

words.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

It was one thing to indulge in the fantasy that Sherlock loved him.

That Sherlock meant to be saying 'I Love You' with each offering of 'Dinner?'

When he himself wasn't hungry;

With each flourish of praise in how helpful John had been on the case;

When John had been bloody useless!

With every gesture of 'Here, take my card!' when John had not had the foresight,

nor the wherewithal to put funds into his own account;

With every request or excuse to seek out closeness and contact.

So often, contact.

'There's only one bed, John!'

'We have to hide in this cupboard, John!'

'Quick! Take my hand, John!'

John relished in every one of these moments, and knew what they meant to himself.

And he felt he knew what they had meant to Sherlock.

But this?

This was unspoken.

It had to remain, unspoken - to not break the spell.

And here he had gone and...

He looked down at the kettle in his shaking hands and turned away from Sherlock. Hiding the blazing red glow that had crept up his neck and cheeks and was now burning at his ears. He knew his ears were still visible. He never could hide them. His hand found its way to one ear anyways. Feeling how warm they were now. Knowing they practically glowed in the dark, at this point. And he... slowly dying inside.

Sherlock still had not said anything (yet).

Might not say anything to him again.

Perhaps it was unforgivable to break a spell...

He leaned against the countertop with both hands, breathing. Then setting the kettle on it's base, he started heating the water to boil for the tea anyways. As if nothing had happened.

Maybe they could just pretend nothing did, happen?

And nothing would?

And life would go on. As usual.

"John."

Sherlock's baritone voice behind him, reverberated through his very bones. He felt it down to his toes. And in the soft crook of his neck. And in the tingle of his hands. When had Sherlock begun to affect him so?

John had not turned, or responded visibly aside from a slight flex of his left hand. The hand that tended to tremble when under duress.

It was really shaking.

He grabbed at it with his right hand to make it stop. The buzzing, ringing sensation that had started in his ears, he silenced. Forcing himself to breath, deep breaths. His shoulders heaving with it. In. Out. In. Out. Calm. Deep. Concentrate. Calm.

"John?"

Sherlock was closing in on him. Closer this time. By the table.

John still did not turn. Except to try to face even further away. He picked up the bag of tea and unwrapped it. Picking at it. Tearing it open. He fumbled, and dropped the tea bag between his feet.

Sherlock caught it, before it hit the floor.

(to be continued...)

@masterofhounds @kettykika78 @johnlocky @randomwordsonpaper @writingloud @writingismydivision @ohlooktheresabee @khorazir @hp-nv-221b @calaisreno @fluffbyday-smutbynight @demonicangeling @rachel1337 @chinike @sgam76 @thewatsonbeekeepers @sadngroovy @bbcbluebell @therealsaintscully @totallysilvergirl @saoirse-1887 @loveismyrevolution @peanitbear @astudyinstupidity @janetm74 @frothyrothy @fuckmylifewtf @iwearthedamnhat @iamjustreading @simplyclockwork @late-to-the-party-221 @sarahthecoat @chriscalledmesweetie @dinner--starving @indubitably-a-goblin @inevitably-johnlocked @swissmissing @colourfulwatson @7-percent @1-800-get-sherlocked @iwlyanmw

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers EP1 | Kantbison + Nuzzling

OH. OHHH this is going to be their thing. The forehead to forehead almost-kissy-nuzzling. Ugggh UGHH this is like my favourite thing. They are such a pair of teases.

[astorkes]

i have nothing to say for myself. enjoy

[katebeckets]

how to say "I love you" in x-files [51/?] ⤷ 6.10 — “Tithonus”

[mistress-light]

Final Fantasy XVI - PC • Love scene cam out of bounds

[haydardotjpg]

Blood sticks, sweat drips Break the lock if it don't fit A kick in the teeth is good for some A kiss with a fist is better than none

———

wait what do you mean a red string of fate ties us together but all we do is strangle each other with it. what do you mean this string can only stretch and tangle but never break and yet we keep biting and gnawing on it to try to free ourselves from it anyway.

[trashmancer]

Domestic bathing Wyllstarion fluff for draculastarion on the Wyllstarion! discord server Valentine exchange 💕

[muzzlemouths]

Day 1 — "Best friend"

"Alright, I've got one. How do you make a tissue dance?"

You stifle a snort, smiling ahead of the punchline. "How?"

"You put a little boogie in it!" Sun slaps his knee with a metallic clang that echoes, shoulders bouncing with laughter that mirrors your own. "Get it?"

"Very funny," you answer. "Did you hear about the guy who stole all that soap?"

The kiddie chair groans under his weight as Sun leans closer, his laughter momentarily forgotten. Suddenly he's very, very serious. "I haven't heard a thing," his rays dance a little, shrinking inward. "Did they catch him?"

Humming, your hand digs idly into the tub of pony beads sitting between you, dragging the answer out as long as you can. A theatrically deep sigh escapes you. "I'm afraid not," you tell him. "They say he made a clean getaway."

A smirk slowly creeps onto your face as he twitches in your peripheral vision. The wall clock ticks once. Twice.

"Oh, you sneaky little—" He breaks for laughter, wheezing with an automated grind of rusty levers deep within his chassis that sounds more akin to a deflating balloon. "The set up, the punch line, the drama," his palm lands with a humored thump against the table, bouncing the beads in their tub. "That was a good one. You're going to beat me at my own game, at this rate!"

"Oh, hardly." Your hand swims through the rainbow sea of beads in search of a specific shade of blue. "I'm just repeating what I remember out of my jokes book."

Sun threads a letter bead onto the elastic cord pinched between his thumb and forefinger. "A whole book full of jokes?" His faceplate spins with excitement. "Oh, pinch me! What a thrill!"

"Yeah, it was pretty cool, I guess. The library billed me for its hospital stay, though."

"Hospital—huh?"

"Well I had it so long, I broke the spine," you curb your laughter behind a façade of seriousness, not allowing him enough time to process the first punch line before decking him with the second. "I tried getting an appointment with a good doctor, but they were all booked!"

Sun is doubled over before the last of it is even out of your mouth, having evidently picked up on where the joke was headed, already, and still it has him entirely consumed by glee. He's going to break the kid's table between you if he slams his fist into it any harder.

Having successfully located the correct shade of blue, you slide the last bead to sit beside the rest and finally tie the cord off with a knot, neat and tidy. It's nothing special as far as kandi bracelets go, but you're proud of the effort behind it, regardless. After all, you weren't prepared to do any crafting today in the first place. Sun had asked you to help him sort the new shipment of beads before you went home for the night — one thing led to another and, well, here you are.

"All finished!" Sun quells his laughter enough that he can tie off his own bracelet; a parade of pastels in every color with the letter's "BFF" at the center. It hangs on a single finger, dwarfed by his massive hand, as he offers it to you with a big, cheesy grin. "Well? What d'ya think?"

The bracelet slips over your palm and comes to a rest just below the joint like a slipper made to fit. "BFF?"

"Best friends forever!"

"I love it," you tell him, feeling warmed by the notion. "Want to see mine?"

Too impatient to wait for an answer, you hand over your second bracelet of the night — a string of midnight blue with chunky yellow stars in between — and watch as his eyes light up and his voicebox crackles with a certain gravel that isn't quite his.

"Pretty," he says. Too short of a remark to have come from Sun. He slides it along his own wrist to sit above the yellow bracelet already there.

"Well, I should get home." The miniscule chair topples backwards as you stand, hands bracing against the table. "Sorry I couldn't stay longer tonight. There's a concert opening downtown and I want to get back before the traffic gets too bad."

Sun follows your lead and awkwardly squirms his way out of the kid's chair. "You could always stay the night," he says. The giggle in his voice is the only way to know for sure that he's joking. "Let me walk you out, at least."

These moments are your favorite. When the world is quiet, and you can enjoy each other's company without worrying about what tomorrow brings. It makes every goodbye feel like it will last forever. Who would have known that a friend could ever feel so much like home.

Sun opens the door for you, but stands in its path, shifting the weight between his feet with a metallic ring of his bells and a doting expression like he has a thousand things he wishes to say to you. Ultimately, he settles for something simple, yet no less fond.

"See you in the morning."

[iron-rose-art]

soft monty cuddles save me

save me soft monty cuddles