Cinnamon Rolls Are My Favorite Rolls.

This warmed my cold black heart.

good morning have you considered today: 

john waking sherlock up with little kisses to his forehead and sing-songing sheerrlooock. oh shEEEERRRlock

sherlock swiping at him with a grumble because go ‘way m’sleep

john grinning unbearably wide because god he’s cute when he’s sleepy. it’s time to get up, sleepyhead

sherlock torn between tilting his face up into more of john’s kisses and hiding beneath the blanket, resulting in hiding most of his face beneath the blanket except for the place he likes john to kiss on his temple. 

john kisses the proffered temple obligingly. sherlock. darling sweetheart goosey love. we have to get up and get moving so we can be on time for our appointment today. 

one eye appears above the line of the sheet. appointment? 

a kiss to the temple, to the eyebrow, to the eyelid of the watchful eye. big day today. but you have to get up to find out what it is. 

two eyes, and a line above the bridge of his nose. a secret? but you’re terrible at secrets. 

john laughs. the line above the bridge of sherlock’s nose gets a kiss too. but mycroft is very good at secrets, so mycroft did the arranging for me. i just found out this morning too, but we’ve an appointment to meet someone very special i think. 

sherlock’s mouth rises above the sheet to grimace and sour at him. you asked mycroft for a favour? john. you know better. 

this was worth it, john says, and he kisses a smile into the curve of sherlock’s lips. i’m sure you’ll agree with me when you meet her.

her? sherlock can’t help himself; he kisses back, kisses back, kisses back.

her, john confirms, and his smile grows and grows and grows. and her is a beautiful little black and white english setter, and she’s yours, if you want her. if we make this appointment on time, that is. 

a pause, and a very, very, very quiet, mine? 

a kiss. a kiss. yours. 

and then, a flurry of blankets, and john is alone in the bed: john! what are you waiting for? we’ll be late! and a laugh, bright as sunshine, and, john thinks, twice as brilliant.

tenderest lines in bbc sherlock: 

“i never guess.” “yes, you do. what are you so happy about?”

“take my card.”

“feeling better?”

“uh, milk. we need milk.” “i’ll get some.” “really?” “really.” “and some beans, then?” “mmm.”

“that…thing that you, uh, that you did. that, um, you offered to do. that was, um…good.”

“somebody loves you.”

“look at them. they all care so much. do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?” “all lives end, all hearts are broken. caring is not an advantage, sherlock.”

“i am sorry. forgive me. merry christmas, molly hooper.”

“this is low tar.” “well, you barely knew her.” 

“merry christmas, mycroft.” “and a happy new year!”

“are you sure tonight’s a danger night?” “no, but then i never am. you have to stay with him, john.”

“he’s sherlock. how will we ever know what goes on in that funny old head?”

“shame on you, john watson.” “shame on me?” “mrs. hudson leave baker street? england would fall.”

“so she’s alive, then? how are we feeling about that?” “happy new year, john.”

“my brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. what might we deduce about his heart?” “i don’t know.” “neither do i. but initially, he wanted to be a pirate.”

“i don’t have friends. i’ve just got one.”

“sentiment?” “sentiment.”

“ready?” “yes.”

“you look sad. when you think he can’t see you.”

“sherlock, i don’t want the world believing-” “that i’m what?” “a fraud.”

“no, i know you’re for real.” “100 percent?” “well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time.”

“you’re wrong, you know? you do count. you’e always counted and i’ve always trusted you. but you were right. i’m not okay.” “tell me what’s wrong.” “molly, i think i’m going to die.” “what do you need?” “if i wasn’t everything that you think i am, everything that i think i am, would you still want to help me?” “what do you need?” 

“please, will you do this for me?” “do what?” “this phone call, it’s my note. it’s what people do, don’t they? leave a note?” “leave a note when?” “goodbye, john.”

“i’m a doctor, let me come through. let me come through, please. he’s my friend. he’s my friend, please.”

“you told me once that you weren’t a hero. um, there were times i didn’t even think you were human, but let me tell you this: you were the best man the most human human being that i’ve ever known and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. so there. i was so alone and i owe you so much.“

“i’m not lonely, sherlock.” “how would you know?”

“i hope you’ll be very happy, molly hooper. you deserve it.”

“please john, forgive me for all the hurt i caused you.”

“look, i find it difficult. i find it difficult, this sort of stuff.” “i know.” “you were the best and the wisest man that i have ever known. yes, of course i forgive you.”

“oh, those things you said- such sweet things! i never knew you cared!”

“i asked you for one more miracle. i asked you to stop being dead.” “i heard you.”

“i mean, who leaves a wedding early?”

“into battle.”

“i thanked him for the trust he placed in me and indicated that i was, in some ways, very close to being…moved by it.”

“you- you mean-” “yes.” “i’m your…best…” “man.” “-friend?” “yeah, of course you are. of course you’re my best friend.”

“the point i’m trying to make is that i am the most unpleasant, rude, ignorant and all-round obnoxious arsehole that anyone could possibly have the misfortune to meet. i am dismissive of the virtuous, unaware of the beautiful, and uncomprehending in the face of the happy. so if i didn’t understand i was being asked to be best man, it is because i never expected to be anybody’s best friend. certainly not the best friend of the bravest and kindest and wisest human being i have ever had the good fortune of knowing.”

“john, i am a ridiculous man, redeemed only by the warmth and constancy of your friendship.”

“what’s wrong? what happened? why are you all doing that? john? did i do it wrong?” “no, you didn’t. come here.”

“clever?” “i’d say so.” “you would? am i important?” “to some people.”

“not you! not you! not you! you. it’s always you. john watson, you keep me right.”

“we wouldn’t do that, would we- you and me? we would never do that to john watson.”

“how dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with? and how dare you betray the love of your friends?”

“human error.”

“hello, redbeard. they’re putting me down too, now. it’s no fun, is it?”

“john will cry buckets and buckets. it’s him that i worry about the most.”

“your loss would break my heart.” “what the hell am i supposed to say to that?”

“oh, sherlock. what have you done?”

“john, there’s something i should say, i’ve meant to say always and then never have. since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, i might as well say it now. sherlock is actually a girl’s name.”

“you’ve been reading john’s blog. the story of how you met.”

“wherever i find him, whatever back alley or doss house, there will always be a list.”

“there’s always the two of us. don’t you read the strand?”

“since when do you call me john?” “you’d be surprised.” “no, i wouldn’t.”

“sherlock. promise me?”

“doctor watson? look after him, please?”

“you just like this dog, don’t you?” “well, i like you.”

“your life is not your own. keep your hands off it, do you hear me?”

“you can keep your scars.”

“well, that’s interesting.” “what is?” “the way you think.” “superbly?” “sweetly.” “i’m not sweet, i’m just high.”

“he’s not about thinking, not sherlock. no, no. he’s more emotional, isn’t he?” 

“i’m gonna make a deduction.” “oh, okay, that’s good.” and if my deduction is right, you’re gonna be honest, and tell me, okay?” “happy birthday.” “thank you, john. that’s…very kind of you.” 

“it’s okay.” “it’s not okay.” “no. but it is what it is.” 

#of course he knew how to use a gun #he’d taught nancy how to use a gun #he just didn’t want to do it #and she knew exactly why

This is never not funny

Things just transpired in my house hold that are equal parts offensive and hilarious… Here goes.

So my roommate, Dale, has a gf who does not live with us, but she’s here all the time. So Sunday when my gf was her we were on the couch and we kissed (scandalous, I know) and she saw it, and I’m pretty sure that’s the first time she’s seen us be affectionate, that’s neither here nor there.

So today she tells Dale she’s “uncomfortable” here and wants him to move out because she thinks me and my lady are going to hit on her or something, she doesn’t like living with lesbians, cause it’s not “normal”, so now I’m pissed. Then, Dale goes, “well you don’t live here, so it shouldn’t be a problem, just stop coming over”…things escalated and Dale is trying to break up with her, but she won’t leave our house….she locked herself in Dales room.

So, Dale barges in my room wearing a bathrobe and goes, “call every lesbian you know, we’re smoking this bitch out!” Then turns around and whips his robe like a cape…

And that’s the story of how there are 8 lesbians climbing through the window of Dales room…

Yas.

Sorry but I can’t hear you over the sound of Gay, Bi, and Jewish Superheroes kicking Nazi ass

I love this so much.

I watched a girl in a sundress kiss another girl on a park bench, and just as the sunlight spilled perfectly onto both of their hair, I thought to myself: ‘How bravely beautiful it is, that sometimes, the sea wants the city, even when it has been told its entire life it was meant for the shore.

Christopher Poindexter

YADYASYASYAS ROSA FOREVAAA

fuck yall and your bad boys. wheres my bad girls. wheres my secretive and mysterious love interest. wheres my outcast gf. wheres my cat rescuing, leather wearing, motorcycle riding wife???

When your neurodivergent brain™️ decides that you have to do a certain thing before doing anything else but you don’t want to or can’t do the thing so you get stuck and do nothing

Brian K. Vaughan’s ‘Saga' 

Art by Fiona Staples

kara: lena and i don’t have pet names for each other.

alex: uh-huh … what do bees make?

kara: …honey?

lena, from another room: yes, dear?

alex: never lie to my face again.