feet on dash

I want the cliche kisses in photo booths. And the candid photos of me when I’m not looking. I want the week long road trips with the windows down and my feet up on the dash. I want hands clenched tight when we’re intimate. I want shared showers the morning after. I want breakfast in nothing but oversized t-shirts. I want tv show marathons with extra buttery popcorn and makeout breaks during commercials. I want “I love you"s and “you’re beautiful"s and my name blended in curse words while you moan. I want time and promise and happiness and intimacy.

Otayuri headcanons #12

-After Yura and Beka have become best friends, Beka offers to drive them everywhere, either on his motorbike or in his car. 

-Yura loves it, especially the car drives – the longer, the better. He doesn’t have to use the lame bus anymore or the crowded underground and the best is, Beka allows him to put his feet on the dash when he takes his shoes off!

- Yura is pretty talkative in the car, Beka has noticed. When Yura is warm and comfortable, his favourite music blasting from the stereo and the world passing next to them, the boy opens up more. Beka likes that. He asks curious questions and Yura replies with rare enthusiasm.

-Yura is surprised that with Beka it’s even pleasant in the car when they’re not talking. And unlike other people, Beka doesn’t force a conversation. They both just keep quiet and the silence is as comfortable as the prior conversation. And when one of them starts talking, the words come flowing again naturally.

-At some point Yura asks Beka if he can give him a few driving lessons. Beka gets the blessing of Yura’s parents and drives them to an empty parking lot somewhere in the city. Then they switch seats.

-“Ok, no, fingers off the keys. Put your seatbelt on first, please,” Beka says patiently and Yura grins smugly, but obeys. “Now start the engine. Clutch and put in the first gear. Right, now slowly disengage the clutch and accelerate –.”

-The car jumps forward and Yura lets out a small yelp whilst Beka stays completely calm next to him. Yura’s smug grin has vanished.

-Beka thinks Yura is doing fine, until he notices that the boy doesn’t seem to be breathing anymore. He slowly puts a hand on Yura’s arm – the boy’s hands are grasping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white.

-“It’s ok, Yura. You’re doing well,” Beka says comfortingly. “C’mon, breathe. You’re doing really well.”

-“This is fucking scarier than any competition,” Yura curses under his breath.  Beka silently agrees – he still remembers vividly his own first driving experiences.

-However, after a while Yura gets the hang of it. He repeatedly asks Beka if he wants money for the gas, but Beka always shakes his head. “Yura, I’m not doing this for money,” he just says and that’s all.

-So Yura decides to be cheeky. At first he leaves a few ruble notes inside the car, but Beka has noticed it every single time and silently given him the money back. Yura decides to take it a bit further. After one lesson he just throws his arms around Beka’s shoulders to hug him and sneakily slide a ruble note into his pocket.

-Beka is completely surprised when Yura just hugs him out of nowhere. That’s not something he’s expected at all, but it’s not…i-it’s not that he dislikes it… Beka tentatively hugs him back, shyly but his heart fluttering with happiness.

-From then on, Yura keeps doing that every single time. Of course Beka notices it, but he doesn’t say anything, and Yura likes the hugs and Beka seems to like them, too.

-Sometimes Yura finds the ruble note back in his own pocket when he gets home. That only makes him smile. At some point, when Beka says he can’t teach him anything anymore because he can’t let him drive on the street yet, Yura just shrugs. He’s already happy with what he knows now; driving isn’t scary anymore at all. Also, he doesn’t need an excuse anymore to hug Beka. Beka’s arms are always ready for him to fall right into them. 

I know I am an over thinker, and an over reactor. I know that when I see the slightest change in your behavior it sends my mind on a wild goose chase. I know that I get a little much sometimes but believe me when I say I continuously beat myself up over taking it out on you. I know that being dependent on someone else is scary. I know that it does sting a little when I know something’s up and you won’t tell me anything. I know that I’m a brat all the time and I hope you know not to take me too seriously all the time. I know that you have the weirdest allergies I’ve ever heard of and that makes me laugh. I know that you think your laugh sounds like a lawn mower but I want to hear that laugh for the rest of my life. I know that you hate when I put my feet on the dash, but you know Im probably going to do it anyways. I know how you get embarrassed of me when I go on a rant around people, I can see it in your face. I know I’m loud and overconfident and proud, but please understand it took me such a long time to feel myself and be those things. I know that your eyes are my favourite shade of green I’ve ever looked at. I know to get extra croutons because you’re going to eat them all if I don’t. I know that you don’t like hearing bad things that have happened to me because you’ll get nightmares. I also know that you light up my day, that I don’t know how my life would be if I didn’t have you to laugh with, that I love you more than I’ve loved anyone, that you’re my person, and no one has ever earned that title before.
—  I know, believe me
Jokes jokes jokes
  • Jokes jokes jokes
  • Austin Wintory
  • Assassin's Creed Syndicate OST

Jokes Jokes Jokes : sung by Paul Amos (Jacob Frye)
(You can hear it in game in pubs)

Lyrics :

Attend the tale of Maxwell Roth,
He sought the footlights like a moth,
His sense of timing never off until,
He opted to collaborate,
With a hooded reprobate,
The Blighter and Assassin made a deadly double bill.

Jokes, Jokes, Jokes,
Make ‘em laugh until they choke,
Fairly slay them in the aisles,
Maidens fair and Princes charming.
Thrills, Thrills, Thrills,
Dashing feet and bloody spills,
And I guarantee you’ll never see the ending coming.

The curtain rose the scene was set,
They danced a murderous duet,
And much deserving blood was let up to,
The scene wherein they disagreed
on who should live and who should bleed,
And Maxwell Roth he then received,
A very bad review!

Jokes, Jokes, Jokes,
And there’s daggers and there’s cloaks,
But behind the scenes the leading players differ on the plot.
Laugh, Laugh, Laugh,
At the dandy’s new red scarf,
Now eight shows a week to Beelzebub is his eternal lot.

Jokes, jokes, jokes,
Make 'em laugh until they choke,
Fairly slay them in the aisles,
Maidens fair and Princes charming.
Thrills, Thrills, Thrills,
Dashing feet and bloody spills,
And I guarantee you’ll never see the ending coming!

Road Trip Part 1 - Are We There Yet?

Can I start this by saying holy shit what a reaction I have received on my first Negan Smut Week post, thank you so much! I love you guys! I almost feel mean for posting this as it’s a 2 part-er and this is more of a teaser then anything, but without a further ado, Negan Smut Week Day 2.


 Warnings: Blood play (kinda??) Blow Job, Language.

Part 2 Here

 @negansmutweek , @strangersangel9 , @negans-network

(If you’d like to be tagged in future post let me know!)

 PhotoSet/Banner made by me


 Road Trip Part 1 - Are We There Yet?

 You stare out the window, mindlessly watching the scenery, bare fields off to one side, and tall trees to the other. You slip your sunglass on as the sun has started to rise and place your feet on the dash, trying to rest comfortably. Your hands play with the baseball bat that rests in your lap. You softly stroke the smooth wooden handle, and when you close your eyes it is almost as if you can feel his hands there as well.

 Soon your fingers find cool, hard metal of the barbwire that is wrapped around the tip of the bat. Gently your stroke all the way up before finding a rather sharp edge. Your finger lingers on the edge before pressing down firmly. Skin breaks and blood flows from the fresh cut.

 You hiss and bring the finger up to your eye level. “Ouch, Lucille.” You pout. You place her on the dashboard.

 “Did Lucille give you some love?” the man driving questions. You smirk and raise your sunglasses up so you can study him better.

 Negan had to be one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. His sharp jaw, with his black bread littered with gray. His hair slicked back and the smell of leather that always lingered around him, leather jacket or no leather jacket.

 But the thing that got you the most was that look he got in his eye when something particularly pleased him. When he strikes down a man with his beloved bat or when he cums, wrapped tight around you.

 You turn to him and wiggle your finger in front of him, blood still dripping. “That she did.” You lean in close and slowly suck your finger into your mouth, licking it clean. You let it go with a pop.

 “Fucking hell sweetheart! Trying to fucking drive here.” Negan says, and you giggle.

 “How long have we got?” you ask

 “Not long now. We should be joining up with team two soon.”

 You smirk again and move your hand to his thigh, dangerously close to his semi hard cock.

 “Perfect.” You purr.

 “Fuckity, fuck.” Negan stammers as your hands move to his belt buckle.

 Yanking on the leather you pull the belt from the loops. You find the button of his pants and slip it through the hole; you pull the zipper down slowly tooth by tooth. Leaving his pants open you move your hands to push up his jacket and shirt, bare his stomach, you place kisses over the exposed area as your hand reaches into his jeans and pulled out his now hard cock.

 You hear Negan curse and hiss and you slide your hands up to the head of his cock.

 “Fuck sweetheart, I can fucking pull over if you want.”

 “I’m bored. You stop driving, I stop as well.” You bargain.

 You lean in close and blow lightly on the head of his cock that is leaking pre-cum already. You smirk and your tongue darts out, catching the small bead.

 “Fucking deal!” Negan grunts, one of his hands leaving the wheel to rest in your hair.

 You tease him slowly, lick at the tip like an ice cream, you slowly make your way down the long length, reaching the base, you flatten your tongue and run it on the underside of his cock right back up to the tip before swirling it around the head. You repeat this until it is glistening with your saliva.

 You place a kiss right on the head before slowly taking him into your mouth. You manage to get about half in before you have to stop and go back, preparing to relax your throat.  Again you go down, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat but you swallow past it and feel him slide down.

 Negan lets out a loud moan as he feels you deepthroating him, his hand in your hair twists and pushed you down into his lap further. You don’t resist but allow it and let your hand tug and roll his balls in your hand. Your nails scratch lightly at the soft skin and you feel the car jerk to the side.

 “Fucking fuck!” Negan groans, his hips buck slightly.

 You hollow your cheeks, the suction of the action makes Negan buck again and his hand in your hair pulls you up then pushes your back down. You allow him to take control of the pace but keep your hands massaging his balls.

 “Motherfucker!” Negan yells.

 His grip on your hair causes flashes of pain as it tightens and you feel stream after stream of cum run down your throat. You take it all, then let go of Negan with a loud pop.

 You look out the window and see a building not far in the distance. Smiling you pop your sunglasses back on and Lucille back on your lap, your feet rest where she just was.

 “Perfect timing.” You sigh happily.

Mr. Michael Caine. 

funnyfoxes55  asked:

I live in florida and i walk my dogs. Since its florida, it gets very hot at times and im worried about burning my puppers paws. Is there a way for me to gauge if the concrete walkways won't injure their paws?

Let me assure you Comedic Kitsunes that in Australia it gets bloody hot as well.

Many an Aussie will tell you of the folly of attempting to walk barefoot over concrete or asphalt to the car, and earlier this year some poor woman burnt the skin off the soles of her feet dashing from the ocean to he car.

If it burns you, it will burn your dogs.

If it’s going to hurt your feet, it’s going to hurt your dogs’ feet. It’s also going to hurt your hands if you leave them against the concrete/asphalt/road for a few minutes.

This is the simplest way for you to determine whether the ground is too hot.

If it’s hot enough to fry an egg, it’s hot enough to fry bacon.

Originally posted by itadakimasu-letmeeat

A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life.

Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.

—  acutelesbian #ToBeVulnerablyHonest (The Artidote)
Dean Ambrose x Reader - Ride Along

The episode starts off with you and Dean playing rock paper scissors to see who has to drive. You win and let out a Ric Flair WOOO. “Oh shut up and get in the car.” Dean rolls his eyes as you do a little victory dance. You and Dean are currently co-ed tag team partners. You were the only one crazy enough to team up with the lunatic since you had your own wild side about you. “Soo… What are we supposed to do with all of this??” Dean gestured to all the camera’s on the dash as he drove. “I guess we are suppose to spill some secrets or something.” You shrug putting your feet up on the dash. “Hey… Hey now respect the car.” Dean smacked your legs down. “This isn’t your car??” You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion. “Oh yeah…” Dean realized before grabbing your leg and tossing it back on the dash as you giggled. “Well if we are supposed to be spilling some secrets…” Dean finally got to the point of the show. “How about we spill the biggest one we got??” “Fine by me.” You shrug drumming your hands on your knees. “Okay. Me and this chick barely know each other.” “Yup.” You pop the ‘p’ at the end of the world. “First time we ever really talked was the night of team ups.” You smile. “How about we use this time to get to know each other with a game of 20 questions??” You offer looking over to Dean as he passed a car on the high way. “Works for me.” “Alright I’ll start…. Favorite color.” “I don’t know… black??” Dean shrugged. “Your turn to ask a question.” You gesture over to him. “Uhh… Favorite wrestler when you were a kid.” You smirk and cut your eye over to him. “Jon Moxley.” “Bull****” (They bleep the word out). “I’m telling the truth.” “You’re just saying that.” “Call my mom right now. I used to beg her and my dad to take me to ROH shows. I bet she still has my custom Moxley shirt at home.” You proudly admit. “No way.” “Wait I bet I still have a picture of us on my phone hang on.” You scroll through your phone. “This is bull. You’re just saying all this for the sh…” Dean cut off as you showed him a pic on your phone. “Whoa… You’re like what?? 12 in this pic??” “16…” You grumble. They show the pic on the screen. Dean back when he was Jon Moxley had his title over his head as you wrapped your arms around his waist with big smile on your face. “Why didn’t you ever tell me??” “You never asked me.” You shrug and look to the camera in front of you. “Let this be a message to everyone out there… Dreams can come true.” “And creepy stalker fangirls can and will find a way into your life.” You punch Dean in the arm as he laughs at his own joke. “What was that for??” “For calling me a stalker fangirl… I grew up to realize how lame you really were…” You smirked. “Darling I am the farthest thing from lame.” “Says who??” “Says me… and your 12 year old self.” “16!!” “Whatever…” Dean grinned as he got a rise out of you. The episode ends with you and him still bickering like an old couple. Your smiles never leaving your face. 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING… and thanks to @cutester for helping me out with this one….please let me know what you think… any and all feedback is welcome… and let me know if you want some more ridealong fics with other superstars… THANKS AGAIN FOR READING