#kissies...

[feketeribizli]

the whole gal-ex page because i really like it 🍓🌟💐🌿🌷🫶

[reallyseally]

i like a kiss and i like a smooch so give a peck to ur local pooch...

[vaguehotels]

sorry for Lurking (is anxiety and a bit. nonverbal. nontext. ?. can't really say stuff but. loveu)

NEVER BE SORRY FOR LURKING I LOVE YOU FOREVER . its like we are sitting together looking at Posts. holding your hand as well sorry if its harder to type now. but i will not let go

[sarakipin]

Happy Valentine's Day! 💌🌹

[jollymalt]

i have returned with more pirate au melvika

[kitty-c4t]

Safe heaven

[nerd-izzy-art]

Kissy Missy is a Real One

[gh0stlyscooter]

they make me unwell

[fruit-sy]

Where have you buried all the children?

[silverus-kvassus]

I forbid anyone to offend them.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Never trust mfrs who sound like FNAF Gregory or Ollie

[surrtasm]

Doctor Harley Sawyer?

I fear poppy playtime will never reach chapter 3 levels of hype ever again

[sixeyesonathiel]

satoru wants praise. constant, dramatic, over-the-top praise. and he’s not subtle about it.

he takes out the trash and comes back in with the air of a man who just saved the world. arms spread, chin up, dramatic sigh. “your husband has returned,” he says, expectant. you’re just trying to wash dishes, mind your business, but he’s hovering behind you like a six-foot-tall golden retriever who craves attention. he nudges your shoulder, taps your elbow, bumps your hip with his, until you finally turn around.

“kiss,” he demands, eyes wide and pouty. you blink. he leans in like it’s his right. “i touched the gross bag. i braved the outside. i faced the raccoon that lives near the bins. i deserve a reward.”

he folds one shirt—badly, you might add—and yells from across the hall, “baby! emergency! come here!” you run in thinking he’s set the kitchen on fire or broken a limb, only to find him standing like a proud peacock beside a wobbly stack of laundry.

“look at this craftsmanship,” he says, holding up a towel like it’s the last supper painting. “behold my glory. where’s my trophy? my parade? my standing ovation? did the mayor call yet?”

he pours water into the pitcher—without spilling it, mind you—and turns to you with the smuggest little smirk known to man. “tell me i’m sexy.”

“...you filled the brita.”

“exactly. domestic and desirable. say it with your chest.”

and you do, because unfortunately for you, you’re hopelessly, irrevocably in love with this ridiculous, praise-hungry man. so you coo. you clap. you kiss his cheeks and ruffle his hair and call him your strong, brave househusband. you dramatically wipe a fake tear and tell him how lucky the world is to witness his greatness. you whisper that he’s the hottest man alive for sorting the recycling. and he eats it up. full sparkling eyes, puffed-out chest, giggling like a schoolboy in love, throwing his arms around you like he’s just scored the game-winning point.

he starts making up tasks just to fish for more. he'll tighten a jar lid and then call for you, chest heaving like he’s run a marathon. “babe. babe. i saved the pickles. tell me i’m amazing.”

you try to tease him—“what, you want a gold star every time you do a chore?”

he doesn’t even blink. “yes. and a kiss. and a snack. preferably hand-fed. preferably while you tell me i’m a gift to mankind.”

“you’re impossible,” you huff, already reaching for the cookies and cupping his ridiculous face in your hands.

and he just grins, because he knows. he knows you’ll give in every time. because it’s only fair—he does praise you like a goddess when he’s got you in bed, murmuring sweet things like you hung the moon and stars and he’s the luckiest man alive. he’ll have your name spilling from his lips like worship, hands reverent, voice full of awe. so why shouldn’t you tell him he’s the hottest man on earth when he unclogs the sink?

he pouts if you don’t. preens when you do. flashes you that pretty smile and says, “i’ll do more chores if you promise to thank me with moans next time.”

you smack his arm, but your face is already heating up. because god, he’s stupid. and charming. and annoyingly good at getting what he wants. it doesn’t help that you’re just as down bad.

ugh. disgusting. you love him so much it’s embarrassing.

[skyrigel]

You are Simon's bit of magic. Whatever happens Simon knows who to call.

His angel. His heart. His stress buster.

When you got the call in afternoon, waking slowly from the afternoon nap to see Simon face timing — you figured lil' interns stressed the hell out of your man.

"Bloody daft- oh, hi love." Simon turns back to look at you rubbing your eyes, his face lighting up with a grin.

"Hey... what's up?" You mumble quietly.

"Just -" he exhales, hard glare to whoever was there and soft eyes back to you. "I wanted to see m' pretty baby."

"Your pretty baby looks like shit." you chuckled at him, blinking to see clear the red spot on your cheek because you slept sideways, hair a bloody nest.

"Don't be a meanie to my angel." Simon says tenderly, his lips tug slightly at one side and he hums a small, 'huh' to get you giddy in stomach.

You could see his face relaxing finally.

"Idiots pissing off my soldier?"

Simon gave a small pout, just the barest, and nodded to you. Then he brings the phone closer to his face and doesn't even turn around to check who is looking or not before placing a kiss which you could assume might be your nose tip on his phone.

"I love ya, lovie." he whispers closely. It tingles all your insides at once.

"I love you too." you told him, then with a smirk that always drove him crazy - "You are so stressed Si baby, gotta release when ya come home tonight."

Simon flustered.

"Riley, c'mon they got better now." someone said around him.

Simon brought the phone closer like he was grabbing your chin and growling in your ear, making every word vibrate through you.

"Sleep some more missus, ya might not get any tonight."

Noted. Positive.

Masterlist

[maiko-coy]

I remember a headcanon where Doey has beef with the Doctor and I absorbed it like a sponge

[erinwantstowrite]

uhhhhhhhh smth smth gay gay title

i have not slept and it's like 2AM and im now feeling tired but i locked tf in to draw this i just HAD to finish before bed i will be more coherent tomorrow anyways. gay superbat. have