finger mark

anonymous asked:

How would sf, us, Uf, and the undertale bros react if their s/o kisses them on their cheek and left a very noticeable lipstick mark. And them telling them to leave it bc it looks cute - ^w^

(Only take 6 characters, so cutting US)

SF Sans: Lovepal, he appreciates it, but please don’t leave…ohhh my god, it’s not going off, ahh! He is blushing as he scrubs madly at his cheek. He is so flustered. Help him, please.

SF Papyrus: He, cute. Your love really leaves marks, doesn’t it? He doesn’t mind, he thinks it’s rather nice to see your kiss after it already happened.

UF Sans: He's gross. He won’t wash it off. He barely washes himself anyway, and that just gives him another reason to be a dirty boy. He can’t help but rest his fingers on the mark from time to time.

UF Papyrus: Wipes it off right away, angrily. Don’t do that, he can’t go out like this in public! But you can see him stroke his cheek and blush slightly as he walks away.

UT Sans: Gives you a grin in return, he adores your kisses. Blushes a bit, pulling his hood over his head as he notices the mark, trying not to let you see how flustered you got him.

UT Papyrus: His eyesockets go wide, filled with small stars. Oh, he is so happy! You kissed him, and he loves your kisses. But this time you left a sign that you kissed him, that he can treasure. Just…why is lipstick so…greasy?

5

Margaux changes into her pj’s, finds RJ watching tv. He smiles when he sees her. His smile was tender but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Would it ever? She wasn’t the woman he loved. She knew he would try with everything he had in him to fall in love with her, but would he ever truly?

RJ: You look lovely. Come here.

She settles on to his lap, frowns as she runs her fingers over the love marks the other woman had left on him. 

Margaux murmurs:  My. What passion she must have felt.

RJ: Margaux- I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so reckless with your feelings.

Margaux: It’s fine. But RJ- I was thinking. I think we need to wait to be intimate again. I don’t think you protected yourself when you were with her. Did you?

RJ softly: I didn’t. I’m so sorry.

Margaux: It’s fine. I’m not angry. But I’d like to be sure all is well before we make love again.

They’d already had sex after his encounter with Diosa, but she hoped he wouldn’t bring it up. She doubted he would. RJ was too respectful to point something like that out.

RJ: Of course. I’ll…get myself tested. It won’t- it won’t happen again.

NCT - cherry bomb theory 🍒

i was trying 2 uncover anything about cherry bomb but kept hitting a dead end??? like rip it was impossible to create a theory ,,, on a pair of cherries ,,,,, & a bomb ,,,,,, UNTIL.

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Watched Batman & Bill last night, a documentary about the attempts of Marc Tyler Nobleman to find an heir of Bill Finger who can push DC Comics to finally give Bill creator credit on Batman stories.

My favorite thing about it is that it would’ve been fairly easy to find Bill’s granddaughter, Athena Finger, who had kept her maiden name and who had a MySpace page on which her dog Bruce Wayne was prominently displayed.

But Nobleman never thought to look for a granddaughter, because he was convinced Bill’s only son, Fred Finger, had been gay.

He wasn’t. According to Fred’s ex-wife, he was bisexual.

And so instead Nobleman ended up going through a laborious process to hunt down Bill’s ex-wife’s cousins, who told him of Athena’s existence once he finally found them.

Anyway, Athena eventually ended up successfully getting the credit changed. 

And she almost didn’t, because of bisexual erasure.

Don’t let anyone tell you queer studies doesn’t have practical applications, kids.

7

Marks and Rec: Misc #974

🎃 (Dialogue from Night in the Woods.)

Title: Waiting On You
Rating
: Explicit
Word Count
: 76k
Chapters
: 8/8 (Complete)
Summary:

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

2

Schmendrick came forward, his face cold and wet, but his voice level. “I turned you into a human being to save you from the Red Bull. There was nothing else I could do. I will turn you to yourself again, as soon as I can.”

The girl began to touch her face timidly, recoiling from the feel of her own features. Her curled fingers brushed the mark on her forehead, and she closed her eyes and gave a thin, stabbing howl of loss and weariness and utter despair.

“What have you done to me?” she cried. “I will die here!” She tore at the smooth body, and blood followed her fingers. “I will die here! I will die!” Yet there was no fear in her face, though it ramped in her voice, in her hands and feet, in the white hair that fell down over her new body. Her face remained quiet and untroubled.

Step it Up

Requests: “You are one of the only blogs that write quality Barry Allen smut, so thank you. Can you please write a Barry smut where he always is gentle with the reader because he doesn’t want to lose control with his powers. One night she confronts him and a night of vibrating hands and speedy enhancements occur? Thank you 💕” Credits to gif owners!

It was the same thing every time. Slow thrust, kiss, whisper your love for each other and then hand holding. You loved every second of that. Barry told you every single hour that he loved you. And all he did was make love to you, nice and slow, where you could be close to each other and rest your foreheads together. You loved Barry with all your heart but slow just didn’t cut it for you anymore.

The first time you confronted Barry about it, he reasoned with you, sped up a little bit and you made a really strange noise (indicating you loved it) and he figured he hurt you by accident because he was too fast. If Barry even thought about thoroughly fucking you, he would start to vibrate. But he’d never touch you when he did, his excitement about his fantasy would scare him into thinking he would lose control.

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Bruises On Another (part one)

Originally posted by stydiaislove

Prompt: Steve doesn’t know where they come from, and he isn’t exactly sure why they’re there. All he knows is that his body is littered in bruises, and there’s something different about them. They aren’t just bruises, and they certainly didn’t come from a trip in a step or clumsiness. No, Steve knows there’s more behind the marks that litter his body. 

THIS IS A SERIES: one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight - finale

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warnings: marks, bruises, pain, physical abuse, etc.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently. 

P.S. This a soulmate AU.

Tag’s List: @slythergirlimagines
Want to be featured on the tag’s list? Message me letting me know!


His fingers danced over the marks that littered his skin, his brows furrowed in a questioning matter. Purple and blues dents in his skin, mainly on his upper arm and scratches along his chest. They didn’t hurt, rather they just existed and if Steve never looked, he’d never know they were there. This was new, Steve thought. He had no idea where these marks came from or even why they were there.

“Steve!” His father yelled and Steve was brought back to the reality of the world. Blinking, he let his eyes fall one final time on his bruised arm before standing up and slipping his backpack over his shoulders. He’s in his finale year of high school and the pressure is on more than it’d ever been before.

Sighing, Steve ran a hand through his hair before turning and exiting his room. He was met with the sight of his father at the bottom or the stairs, staring up at him with a shake of the head. “Aren’t you meant to pick up Nancy?” He asked, his hands on hips.

Steve nodded; “i’m heading there now.” 

With one final glance from his father, Steve made his way out the front door and towards his car. The bruises slipped to the back of his mind as he threw his keys in the air with pride, and caught them. Life was going great for Steve Harrington, and he couldn’t be more happy. After everything that had happened a year ago, he’d changed; for the better. And he had an amazing girlfriend to help him through the changes.

Steve had fallen in love with Nancy Wheeler, and there was no doubting that those who saw them thought they were meant to be. He was sure that she was the one and honestly, Steve felt like the luckiest man alive. 

With a wide grin, he opened the door to his car and slid in. His eyes fell to the rearview mirror for one final check on his hair and make sure it was at full volume length, and it was. With a satisfied click of his tongue, Steve pushed his keys into the ignition and turned them, hearing the satisfying hum of the car engine starting up. The drive to Nancy’s house took no time at all, and soon he found himself parked just before her driveway and the girl herself was walking down the steps with a smile on her lips.

Steve, being the gentleman he was, leaned over the passengers seat and opened the door up for his girlfriend. Nancy followed his lead, slipping into the car with her books in hand before setting them down on her lap. Steve expected her to say ‘good morning’ or something of the such, but the minute her eyes caught his, her smile turned into a frown.

Steve’s own face fell with confusion, furrowing his brows as one hand rested itself on top of his steering wheel. “Geez, good morning to you too, Nance.” Steve teased, still not quite sure what had caught her attention.

Though the girl only reached out one lithe arm and touched his face with a certain gentleness. Steve meant her eyes that were flooded with concern and snarled his lips in bafflement. “Really Nancy…” He started, reaching up to grasp her wrist gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Your face.” Nancy mumbled, her fingers dancing over Steve’s face, but specifically his left eye. “Your- Your eye, who did that to you?” 

Steve fumbled for a response before glancing back into his rearview mirror in question. What he found was definitely not what he expected, and now his own fingers danced over the new and fresh bruise marking his left eye. “What the…” He mumbled, scooting forward in his seat in utter bewilderment. Just like the marks on his arm, a purple and blue coating covered his left eye; somehow and somewhere he’d gotten a black eye.

He allowed his eyes to fall on Nancy for a moment, finding her just as concerned as he was but confused by his reaction.

Looking at the bruise one finale time, Steve blinked and leaned back; shaking his head. “O-Oh, that.” He tried to cover up his confusion, offering a small smile Nancy’s way. “When I was playing basketball… um, the ball came and hit me in the face. It was a stupid mistake, nothing to worry about.”

Nancy looked skeptical of his lie but let it slide; “well, just be more careful next time.” Steve nodded, situating himself back into his seat comfortably and turning back on the engine. Though his mood had shifted slightly from the particular mark now covering his eye, and he bit his lip in thought;

Where had that bruise come from?


“You can do this.” Your own eye met yours through the bathroom mirror, and you tried to swallow down the fear that consumed you. Eyeing your left eye, you glance at it one final time to make sure that it’d been fully covered by make up and let out a breath of relief when you found the marks underneath completely unnoticeable. “You can do this.”

With one final deep breath, you pushed yourself up from the bathroom sink and brushed down your hair. You met your own eye one last time before turning and heading for the exit. The second you opened the door, you stepped back in surprise when a flutter of kids your age walked by. Narrowly missing their bodies smacking your own, you tried to ignore the rapid beating of your heart.

“Room two-sixty-five. Room two-sixty-five.” You repeated in your head, glancing at the small sheet of paper the front office had given you. That was it, room two-sixty-five. Simple enough.

But as you stared at the littering figures of teenagers and the amount of classrooms with numbers a top of them, you knew that wasn’t true. Starting in a new high school was hard enough, but in the middle of your final year was even more difficult. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pulled your sleeves further down your arm, nodding your head and begun walking. You must of walked around for a good ten minutes before a bell rung, which you could only assumed meant the beginning of class. You cursed yourself and the fact that you were so bad at directions, looking around the wall for any signal of room two-sixty-five. No such luck.

As kids ran past you and all headed to class, you were left alone in the middle of the hallway, lost. It wasn’t until mostly all of the kids were gone did you start walking again, and as you did you found the figure of another. A girl probably your age, maybe even younger, with brown short hair; she seemed nice enough. You glanced down at the sheet of paper that had done you no good but tell you which classroom you were meant to go to and the girl who stood by her locker. You needed to go to class, no matter how nervous you were and your best bet was asking the girl.

So ignoring the sick feeling you felt well within you, you stepped up to the girl cautiously. “Um- hello?”

The girl spun in response to your voice, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Yes?”

“I’m new… and I was wondering if you could tell me where this room is?” Your voice was quiet, and you were sure the girl had noticed by her curious glances. And you saw her eyes flitter down your attire, every inch of your body except your hands and face were covered by a piece of clothing and it wasn’t particularly cold out. But despite that, she still accepted the piece of paper you’d offered her and smiled.

“Of course.” She nodded, her eyes glancing over the paper before she clicked her tongue in realization. “It’s just down the hall there, the second door to the left. You can’t miss it.” You nodded, offering a small smile in response and mumbled a thank you. Before you could turn the other way though, the girls hand fell on your shoulder; “I’m Nancy, by the way. If you ever need help…”

You nodded; “thank you.”

Then before she could say anything you turned and walked in the direction she’d pointed. You let out a breath of relief when you finally found room two-sixty-five, your english class and paused for a moment. Your hand fell to your left eye, hoping everything was still covered before raising your hand to knock. Soon enough the door opened and a teacher stepped through. You worried for a moment he’d yell at you for being late, but instead he just smiled; “ah- you must be Y/N, our new student.”

With wide eyes, you nodded, not meeting his eye. “Come in, come in.” You followed him within the classroom, and you felt yourself petrified as everyones eyes fell on you and only you. You nearly missed the teacher start speaking as you felt yourself stuck. “Class, this is our new student; Y/N. Y/N, i’m Mr. Jones.” You nodded slowly, turning to him with a pale face. “There’s an empty seat at the back.”

You wasted no time making your way to the back of the class, desperate for everyones eyes to come off of you. And as you sat, you let out a breath of relief when everyone focused back on Mr. Jones. But as you gazed around, you found one pair of eyes on your own; a boys. You had no idea why he was staring at you, but your eye met his and it was almost like time slowed down.

His left eye… a bruise exactly like your own.


Part 2?

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