#yet so tired omg

[timethehobo]

Seems like his research isn’t the only thing on his mind.

[erabu-san]

Burning going to be my new gender i afraid

+ a doodle i made yesterday before sleeping

[choccy-milky]

clora teaching her doggy some restraint 💞🐶

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, cockwarming, mentions of penetrative sex

big tough, bad, strong jason is sensitive.

the man kills and fights all night, he has to be strong while he's on patrol. so when he comes home to you? his little wife who knows how to take care of him?

he thinks you’re the sweetest girl in the world.

he climbs through the window, always landing on his back, sometimes staying there for a beat longer if it's a real bad day.

and you... you're the perfect wife he could ask for.

you're guiding him to the edge of the bed, robe hanging loosely around your frame as you take his red mask off, dropping it to the side. you're so graciously, slowly unzipping him of his cargo pants, you know he can't do it without you, right? his pretty green eyes watching you with hunger and want. if eyes could beg... the 6'4 man in front of you would be crying on his hands and knees.

your small hands pull out his larger than life length, and he whimpers just at the small feeling. he's been the one taking initiative all day, he needs somebody to take care of him, remember?

and he's sorry that he came home like this... came home hard and frustrated. he never means it! it’s just difficult when he knows he’s coming home to you. what else is he supposed to do?

and when you place your legs on either side of him, your hole wet and slick and ready for him, he’s reminded you’re made for him. he bites his lip when you slide down. staying there, because he just needs the comfort of you being wrapped around him right now. he needs your tightness around his cock if he even wants to think about being the red hood again tomorrow.

his cheeks turn pink, like they always do and his head rests in the crook of your neck, licking and kissing sloppily and slowly as his cock is being warmed by you. he doesn't move. he doesn't grab your hips and move you against him... he could pump you full right now, his tip hitting your cervix feverishly. instead, he whines against you, whimpers as he lets you lead.

he whispers that you're the only one made for him. you prepped yourself before he came just so he didn’t have to wait an extra minute. you know you’re his angel right?

and he stays there, he’s good for you! he’s grateful and wouldn’t want you to think otherwise.

his big, rough, scarred hands sit on your hips, rubbing soft circles as his lips let out little and quiet moans. reminders that you’re his. that nobody could compare to you. that your pretty body is made for him.

[randomminty]

Multiple onos. And a singular grusha

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge

read day 23 "The Beekeeper and The Book Author" on ao3!

(prompt: being old together)

summary: Beautiful. Quiet. Nice.

Gen, 360 Words, Retirement. John Watson's blog, Fluff.

✨imagine this little baby but 40 years older✨

or read it on tumblr:

✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑

Dear readers,

This will be my very last blog entry. I don’t even know if you young people still read ‘blog entries’ – this is for the people who have followed my blog from years ago, really. Maybe this will be a nice surprise for you.

Here is a little update on our life: Sherlock and I married in the year of 2024. It was a beautiful ceremony, small but meaningful. Not many people – neither of us ever really was a ‘people person’.

We continued our detective work until Sherlock turned 67 years old. I don’t really know how we managed with little Rosie, but we did. She turned out to be one of the most intelligent scientists in Britain and both of us are extremely proud of her.

After Sherlock finally retired we moved to a cottage in the countryside. It is beautiful here. Quiet. Nice. Words, the young Sherlock Holmes would have despised. Let me tell you now, that this man has the softest and biggest heart, you could imagine. He always has had it, he just didn’t show – to protect himself, I believe.

I am getting side tracked… Sherlock is a beekeeper now. He loves bees as if they were his own children. Puts all his research into bees as well. Even sells honey, my old boy. I am proud of him. Really, I am.

Skdico ,kjdkojoaoooooooooppposipoi

I apologise, I got distracted by a white haired and bearded (oh, yes he wears a beard now – I quite like it…) cat purring into my ear. He told me to mention my books. So, I will because otherwise this gorgeous lfjklalaaaa

Where were we? Oh, yes my books. What is there to say? I turned my blog into a book. Book series, really. You can buy the books on Amazon – just search for “Sherlock Holmes Books” and they will be suggested. It’s funny, they sell as if Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had written them himself. Which of course, he didn’t, they are all written by ordinary old me, Dr. John Watson.

So this is us. Retired consulting detective and doctor, now beekeeper and book author.

It is beautiful. Quiet. Nice.

✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑✒︎✑

comment on ao3!

tags under the cut :)

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @inevitably-johnlocked @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @sunshineinyourmind @booksoversleep @startrekker2011

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[silverselfshippingchaos]

y'all ever think about how j.oongi wears eyeliner 😳 I do. A lot haha.

[shrineofprophecy]

Sharing my 2 cents about the new HSR content so far...

Mem? More like Mlem

[jadebat7]

comfort food

ex boyfriend!osamu miya x fem!reader

summary: basically just hurt/comfort, reader gets in a fight with their mom and knocks on osamu's door hoping he'll let her in

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you too!"

The door slammed, reverberating off the frame. The house shook from stomping feet, going to hide somewhere else in the small house.

Running your hands through your hair, you kicked a pile of clothes on the floor. Your head was spinning, the previous screaming still ringing in your ears. The house was silent now. Too silent.

Your heart beat fast in your chest as the adrenaline surged through your body. Collapsing on the floor, cried into your knees. You and your mom constantly butted heads, then the next morning you'd pretend it never happened. She'd wake you up so sweetly, running a gentle hand through you hair. Sitting on the edge of your bed, whispering your name.

Your mind raced, trying to think of something. You needed to get out of the house that you knew. Grabbing a backpack, you threw in your phone, a waterbottle, a change of clothes, and some money. Maybe one of your friends would let you sleep over?

You threw on a pair of grey sweatpants and an old hoodie. Opening your door, you grabbed your house keys. You made no effort to be quiet, your mom could stop you if she wanted.

Walking through the house, you heard her TV in her room, blaring some random show. You put on your shoes and left the house.

The cold air hit you like a bus, cutting right through you like a knife through butter. You shivered, tucking your face into your hoodie.

After a few minutes of aimless walking, the adrenaline wore off, turning into sadness. The crunch of salt on the sidewalk filled your ears, the cold winter wind blowing across your cheeks and messing up your hair.

Now, there was no craving for the comfort of your friends. They were great, yes. But they weren't what you wanted.

Your current melancholy could only be treated by one thing; comfort food. Not just any comfort food though.

Your brain was on autopilot, your feet moving by their own. The path was ingrained in your brain, you must have walked it a million times before.

Now that you were alone with your thoughts, tears brimmed your eyes. You wiped them away quickly but they filled again. The added coolness of your tears made you ever colder, the tears freezing as they fell down your cheeks.

Soon enough, you were there. He was inside, theoretically, of course. You didn't text him, there was no point.

You sighed, knocking on the door.

As you waited, you noticed a lack of a car in the driveway. The twins mom was pretty busy, being a nurse and all.

You heard shuffling behind the door, a familiar voice yelling something incoherent. The door opened, revealing..

Atsumu?

You sighed, "Is Osamu inside..?"

He looked at you, crossing his arms.

"Whaddya want with my brother?"

His face was only slightly accusatory, before he saw the redness under your eyes, the ghost of tears on your face, puffy lips that were clearly chapped.

"... Oh."

He sighed, opening the door to let you in. He closed it behind you, locking it.

"I'll go get-"

"Tsumu, what was... it?"

Osamu stood in the hallway, looking at you. He had a moderate shocked look on his face before it was replaced with a look of confusion and undertones of annoyance. The same look Atsumu gave you mere seconds ago. Twins, right?

"I'll just.." Atsumu shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the two of you. Alone.

You couldn't make eye contact. Not with him. Not in this situation. This was ridiculous, why did you do this? You should just,

"Did she yell at ya again?"

You jumped, his voice closer than before. You looked at him, nodding. His expression softened, seeing your face which had so clearly been crying.

He sighed, "... The usual?"

You twiddled your fingers, "I'm sorry- This was stupid- I'll just go to-"

He cut you off, "No. We may not be dating anymore but... I still care 'bout ya.." He looked away, before padding to the kitchen.

You followed in tow, like so many times before. You put your backpack on the floor next to the dining table, just like you did when you slept over. You sat at the chairs at the kitchen island. Deja vu was hitting you like a brick right now, but you shrugged it off.

"What was it?" He looked at you as he got out the things he needed to make your favorite food. He still remembered, of course he remembered. Why wouldn't he remember? He wasn't dating you anymore that was plenty reason to forget. Why did he remember?

You sighed, "Just on again about how I never help around the house..." You looked at your hands, picking at a hang nail.

You bit the inside of your cheek, "I uhm... I think I really messed up this time, 'Sa- Osamu." Your cheeks heated up at the accidental use of his nickname.

He heard the slip up, "Ya can call me 'Samu, y/n. Its not like I hate ya" He stated, looking at you from where he was cutting up something.

"I know, I know... Its just hard" you frowned, looking at him as well. "... Everything got a lot harder without you," You added

You picked at your fingers some more, a lump in your throat forming more and more. Silence.

More silence.

Hes cutting the vegetables so delicately, his skilled hands guiding them to the knife. He's walking over to the pot, and putting them in with a sizzle.

God damn it.

Why did you come here?

"Osamu? Er, 'Samu?"

He looked at you, spatula in hand.

"Hm?"

It was quiet. Soft. The atmosphere was comfortable, it always was with him. There was never pressure to be anything amazing. Never. He was gentle with you, treated you with respect and kindness.

He was so perfect. So perfect. He was the love of your life. Why did you ever break up?

"I miss you."

His eyebrows softened, his shoulders slouching slightly. He put the spatula down, turning the pot onto low heat. How didn't you notice he was wearing a shirt you bought him?

"... I miss ya too"

You smiled. It was a sad smile, your eyes doing a horrible job of hiding your sadness.

"Keep cooking, Miya. You'll burn it."

He smiled. He smiled, and it was like the world was bright again.

"You got it, boss."

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

headers found here

requests open!!!

[hopecomesbacktolife]

“it’s over, librarian! I have the high ground!”

[erabu-san]

Burning going to be my new gender i afraid

+ a doodle i made yesterday before sleeping

[onejellyfishplease]

C...curses by the crane wives😔

I LOVE THAT SONG OMG!!

and now all i can think of is an Open Your Shell animation when i hear it, how dare u /lh

[gurorori]

do they grow these in a lab

[kingkathyy]

Guess who finally got out of her depression room😛 almost got my ass whooped (came hime at 3)

[jellyshark-jester]