fixed mouth

I want to know what she thinks we’re going to do with her.

Because I’m going to do something worse.


sketch that i worked on more than i thought? i saw this and i just lloved it wow

ill probably be doing more screencaps because im just,, not motivated recently

2

Mostly-vegetarian Sero meets carnivorous Kirishima, loss of trust ensues 

signs as the black girls you’re bound to meet in your life

aries: she can probably beat you in arm wrestling, and while she won’t brag about it without prompting, if you decide you wanna act like you’re the HNIC, she’ll be quick to take you down a peg. your absolute best friend or the worst nightmare of an enemy, like she won’t go all out of her way to fuck with you, but you’ll be fucked with. remembers everything. not exacty the “mom” of the friend group, but lowkey responsible… unless she’s bored. 
taurus: the friend who makes sure you ate and pulls snacks out her bag if you didn’t. always down for a laugh. falls asleep when y’all hang out at the house. not about short-term friendships or relationships, so if you end up in one with her, remember that she can and will cut you off at anytime bc this means like… nothing to her lol like yall are friends but it’s not that srs. loyal until you hurt her then just fades back out your life without a word unless you decide to fix your mouth to ask why, then get ready for an earful. 
gemini: takes screenshots and has all the receipts, so don’t think about lying on her unless you wanna be all the way exposed. her room either looks like a five-star suite or like all the drawers barfed on the bed and chairs (and maybe floor), just depends on what day of the week it is and if anyone’s coming over. dressed to kill. nice until you do something wrong, then don’t know you. has EVERYTHING in her bag. knows all the sales. most likely to slash your tires.
cancer: carl thomas - emotional.mp3. just so many feelings. super nice until she’s SUPER NOT. the actual mom friend if your mom had you at 14 and was growing up with you. like, she’ll hold you when you’re sad, but she’s also down to go hit the club afterward. always watching, like in the beyonce-peeking-through-the-blinds kinda way, she knows everything, she’s just not saying anything. super loyal as long as you return the favor. geniunely surprises you when you find out her kinks. 
leo: highest expectations in the crew besides virgo because… well, have you seen her? have you seen the effort she puts into herself, her career, her life? seriously, like keep up. big softie deep down inside who just wants to be loved and treated like a princess but also worshiped like a queen like, why is this so hard? turns to mush inside if someone she likes is around, but trying to act like they’re no big deal and annoying bc she’s not gonna admit someone has that much hold on her. like things just so, so stop FUCKING with her stuff.
virgo: going to the top and not gonna let anything stop her… but if anything does they’re breathing fire and huffing smoke and being pissy about everything. always has advice and if you don’t take it, it serves you right when shit goes wrong. petty and stands by it. bougie but usually cute about it. probably has an impressive, color-coded day planner or everything scheduled into her phone. biggest betrayal is purposefully getting in her way. 
libra: super cutie who wants everyone to get together and bake a cake full of rainbows (but also somehow an evil genius if need be?). never ask her to pick where y’all are going to eat, because she’ll end up trying to take a vote or something instead of outright picking. always has a crush on/kinda sorta thing with somebody (changes/rotates constantly depending on who’s paying her attention), or the one in a relationship that she’s 149% all about. loud. kinda goofy. same room dichotomy as gemini, ‘cept hers is pillow paradise.  
scorpio: nicest person with the shortest temper, and the worst part is that it SMOLDERS. the living embodiment of “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”. the friend you go to when you have a bad breakup bc she’ll put you in tight-ass dress, do your makeup, post you on ig to make sure your ex sees, and then take you out on the town to forget everything except how bad-ass you are. gotta check on her periodically cuz she’s not about to let anyone know when she’s suffering (she’s the one who Gets Shit Done, what does she look like asking for help?)
sagittarius: sweetheart with her own agenda. private and you don’t even know it. better justifying/deflecting genius than libra, which is kinda scary, tbh. coordinator extraordinaire, which turns into manipulator extraordinaire unless she’s done some emotional work on herself. lashes out when she’s hurt on some FUCK IT ERRYBODY CAN GET IT type shit but will maintain that she’s unbothered. nice as long as you remain on her good side forever and always. social climber and unashamed about it. 
capricorn: the only one more ambitious than virgo, but not wasting her breath giving out advice lol if you wanna know her secrets to success, you can buy her book when it comes out. doubt her and you’re dead to her. the actual evil fucking genius, like between the fact that her talk game and diplomacy skills are on point and the fact that she refuses to let anyone make a fool of her, just don’t try her. like if you fuck her over and she just stares at you and then smiles and goes “have a nice day” or something, you’re just dead, you’re gonna die. 
aquarius: not about to waste her breath warning you about anything  more than once. good intuition, but doesn’t usually trust it. a little out there, but it makes you smile cuz she’s just a cute-ass weirdo. good luck tryna pin her down buddy lol she knows the biggest resource she has at her fingertips is her life itself and she’s dedicating it to fun, freedom, and the existential greater good. bounces back from everything but doesn’t forget who didn’t help. 
pisces: flower child whose hand you might need to hold sometimes (both to guide and to console). the one who’s not about to jump into the roast session cuz last time y’all hurt her feelings (but she also got in like a REALLY good one that one time, y’all still talk about it). always wants the aux cord cuz she has a song she REALLY wants you to hear. very dreamy about her music. everyone’s favorite baby besides libra. sometimes naive, but in the cutest way bc they truly want to believe that the world is a good place, so she’s really personally hurt over injustices. 

Mess o’ Mine

Harry X Reader: Angst, smut

In which Harry’s stolen from you and needs to fix it.

Request? No

Part 2: Mouth o’ Mine // Part 3: Mind o’ Mine


The apartment is dark, lights dimmed so you can set the mood for what you expect to be an emotional performance. Your laptop is plugged into the television and the screen is flickering, splashing colors across your face from a product commercial. Harry is across the world, about to premiere a song from his upcoming album on a popular talk show. Despite how excited you are to hear the music, you’re still nervous for him, as you always are. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’ll smash whatever he performs, but he always seems to get in his own way.

Keep reading

With the as much success and respect Sam L. Jackson has earned over the years you would fix your mouth to say he’s bitter and jealous cause he said Black Americans should tell their own stories in Hollywood? Like for real?

PT.1

PT.2 |PT.3 | PT.4| PT.5| PT.6 | PT.7| PT.8| PT.9| PT.10| PT.11| PT.12| PT.13

They stood in the center of the flat to take in the damage. Sherlock crossed his arms and kicked his foot at the remains of a book. John, holding Rosie, shifted her to his right and turned to Sherlock. The man was unusually quiet, and only uttered a few words when they entered the flat. The walls were black, the décor was scorched and ruined. Everything that they loved in that flat, everything that made 221B was gone. John jumped when Sherlock moved suddenly. He made his way over to the stand that used to hold his music sheets and set it upright. Sherlock turned to his favorite armchair and his brows furrowed. John watched carefully as his gaze went from his chair, to John’s favorite chair. What he didn’t expect to see was a tear roll down Sherlock’s cheek as he whispered, “It’s all gone now, John.”

John wanted to rush over and embrace him, as Sherlock did when he cried. Sherlock only said a few words, but each word was uttered with such pain that it broke John’s heart to see him so distraught.

“How long will it take to renovate?”

Sherlock wiped a tear away and exhaled. “Knowing Mycroft, he’ll have the top contractors in England come to fix the place up. Even then…everything is…everything is…it’s just gone, John. My chemistry set, my music, my chair. How can they replace that?”

John could only offer a smile at present even though he knew that it didn’t do much to lift his friend’s spirits.

“Don’t think of it as replacement, Sherlock. Think of it more as restoration.”

Sherlock’s eyes met John’s. “Restore, replace, what does it matter anymore? I don’t even have anywhere else to sleep until this flat is fixed.”

John’s mouth hung open. Of course, how could he forget? Where is Sherlock going to be staying during this? He can’t possibly sleep in his bedroom when the flat was in this condition. Did no one think to ask him, or did everybody assume that he knew what to do?

“You could stay with me,” John said without hesitation, “Er…you can stay with us. Rosie and I, until your flat is fixed.”

Sherlock’s lip quivered at John’s suggestion, and for a moment, John thought that he was going to cry again.

“John I…I couldn’t possibly…”

“Nonsense, Sherlock! I invited you after all.”

Sherlock tilted his head as he thought about the proposal. “Well, I suppose I could take the sofa.”

John’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Are you daft? The Great Sherlock Holmes, kip on the sofa? No, you can bunk with me…if you’d like that is.”

Sherlock froze much like the time when he was asked to be best man.

“John, are you asking me to…share a bed with you?”

Rosie let out a noise and John rubbed her back. “Yes…I…uh…it’s the only bed I got. Rosie’s got the other bedroom and the sofa is far from comfortable to sleep…”

Sherlock cut him off mid-sentence by whisking off towards his bedroom. “Just let me grab a few things and we’ll be off.”

John was left in the middle of the living room dumbfounded. He was going to be sharing a bed with Sherlock for who knows how long. The thought alone excited him.

———–

Here it is!  The first part of the ficlet/fic? Anyway, enjoy! 

@sappylock @vitruvianwatson @ireneadlershipsjohnlock @im-batt-mellamy @justsherlythings7 @wellthengameover @bronzedviolets @now–what @johnandsherlocks 

and I think that’s everyone! Please remind me if I forgot, or send me a message if you would like to be tagged for the next parts! 

3

Part One | Part Two


When did you first know?

The question is a simple one in theory, and it’s also one to which Sherlock has given quite a lot of thought in the past, most notably when he was in his depressed moods and wanted to torture himself with the more wonderful images of John that he had stored up in his Mind Palace.  It’s no longer torture to remember those times, to picture those small smiles and shared giggles that were so frequent early on in their acquaintance, but there is still a dull ache that resonates within him at the thought they had wasted so much time.

He flicks through his favorite memories now, a quick perusal before settling on one that seems so very inconsequential but that he has never been able to shake away.  John is watching him, that same impossibly soft look in his eyes, a look that Sherlock still can’t believe is directed towards him.

Sherlock pulls his bottom lip between his teeth briefly and then takes a deep breath, settling his hands on the arms of his chair again.  “The first time I knew was the day we met with Sebastian.”

John frowns.  “Sebastian?”

“Sebastian Wilkes from the bank, you remember.”

John’s eyes light up.  “Oh, the Blink Banker case!”

Sherlock rolls his eyes and is on the verge of making a comment about how John really needs to work on his titles, but John’s expression suddenly shifts, the light in his eyes fading and his lips turning downward.

“That long ago?” he asks, and there’s something so unexpectedly sad in his voice, a quiet note that squeezes Sherlock’s heart.

He clears his throat.  “Well.  Yes.  I was–it was quite early on in our…friendship that I realized I was…”

Falling in love with you.  The words won’t form even though he’s thought them so many times that it’s become an integral part of who he is.  But neither of them have said it out loud yet, a fact which hadn’t really seemed important until this moment.  

There hadn’t been any dramatic declarations, no emotional outbursts.  It had been simple, in the end; John had come home with the shopping, heavy bags hanging from each hand, and Sherlock had turned from his place by the window (where he’d been watching as John trudged down the street, head bent against the cold).  And John had met his eyes and given him that smile, the one he frequently used to hide behind when he was feeling more emotionally tired than usual, and Sherlock had decided right then and there.  In three strides he was across the room, and it turned out that deciding to kiss John Watson had been the simplest thing he’d ever done.

He remembers the way John’s mouth, so cold from the biting chill outside, had warmed beneath his lips, his tongue; the way John’s shock had melted almost immediately, fading into heartfelt reciprocation as the groceries spilled to the floor at their feet and his hands, free of their burden, slid into Sherlock’s hair. From there, the bedroom was only a few stumbling steps away, and neither of them had looked back since.

Saying the words simply hadn’t seemed necessary after everything they had told each other with their bodies.  All of the longing and frustration and emotion had come pouring out of them in such a physical shape that they had never stopped to really define it with words.  Or perhaps, Sherlock thinks now, they had both been too afraid to give them voice.

“Sherlock.”

John’s hand touches his own where it’s curled on the armrest, and Sherlock is startled out of his memories.  He realizes he must have been silent for some time because John has moved, is now perched on the very edge of his seat, his knees nearly knocking against Sherlock’s.

“There you are,” he says, smiling softly, his head tilting as he searches Sherlock’s face for clues as to where his mind might have taken him.

Sherlock lets out a breath and flips his hand over, catching John’s fingers in his own.  “I’m sorry, I was…distracted.”

“You all right?”

“Yes.  Yes, I’m fine.  Where was I?”

John rests his elbows on his knees but keeps hold of Sherlock’s hand, folding it in between both of his own.  “The day we went to see Sebastian.”

“Right.  Yes.  It was before that, though, before the case began.”

John’s thumb rubs a warm, smooth line back and forth across Sherlock’s palm, and it makes him want to close his eyes and just exist in this moment, a feeling he can’t ever remember having had before he’d let John Watson touch him.

“I don’t remember,” John says, sounding apologetic, which is ridiculous. Sherlock supposes he must think they’re talking about some significant moment in their lives, something that should stand out.

He shakes his head.  “No, you wouldn’t.  It was…you had just come back to the flat.  You’d gone out to get the shopping.”

John’s confusion seems to increase, and he opens his mouth, but Sherlock goes on before he can say anything.

“You were in a bit of a state,” he says, and he can’t help the fondness that colors his tone.  “Apparently the chip-and-pin machine had been giving you some trouble.”

Realization dawns slowly across the lines of John’s face, first in the widening of his eyes and then in the shaping of his lips into a small “oh.”

“You…that was when you knew?” he asks, and he sounds so disbelieving that Sherlock laughs.

“That was when I began to know, yes.”

John shakes his head slowly, seemingly bewildered.  “But…why?  I was such a grumpy arse that day–”

“It was cute,” Sherlock says before he can stop himself.

John’s eyebrows rise so high on his forehead that Sherlock almost can’t see them beneath his fringe, which is quite a feat considering the length of John’s hair.  Sherlock’s cheeks flood with heat, and when John opens his mouth, presumably to give him the teasing of a lifetime, he glares as fiercely as he can.

“Not.  A.  Word,” he says through his teeth.

John’s mouth shuts with an audible click, but his eyes are wide, and he pulls his lips between his teeth in a clear effort to restrain his laughter.  Sherlock continues to glare at him, but it doesn’t seem to be having any effect whatsoever, and only a few seconds pass before John can no longer contain himself.  He breaks down into uncontrollable giggles, leaning forward to press his forehead to the back of Sherlock’s hand, which he still has a hold on.

Sherlock sighs and falls back against his chair in a dramatic fashion.  “Oh, go on then.”

John shakes his head, still bent double.  “Cute,” he gasps through his laughter. “I didn’t even know you knew that word!”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, but John’s giddiness is infectious, and, try as he might, he can’t quite keep his own face straight.  “Well, you should’ve been recording it because I’m never saying it again,” he says, but the sour effect he’s going for is lost in the twist of his lips.

John straightens up, tugging at Sherlock’s hand insistently.  “Oh, god, c’mere,” he says.  His eyes are damp, and his smile is so huge he can hardly kiss properly, but Sherlock really doesn’t mind, not when John is climbing clumsily into his lap, his hands warm on either side of his face, tilting it back to get better access to his mouth.

“I can’t believe you think I’m cute,” John whispers, and Sherlock pinches his side in retaliation.  John’s answering laugh bubbles up against Sherlock’s mouth, and Sherlock’s hand curls around the back of his skull, holding him there.  John’s lips turn soft and pliant, his smile fading with a soft noise as Sherlock’s tongue slicks into his mouth.

He’s lost in it almost instantly, in the press of John’s body, the heat of his hands through the thin fabric of Sherlock’s shirt, the feeling of John’s hair between his fingers.  His mind goes quiet except for the thought of more, and his hips push up, seeking blindly, wanting

“Mm, wait,” John murmurs, and his hands curl around Sherlock’s shoulders, stilling him.  “Not yet.”

“Hmm?”  His brain is too weighted with lust to say anything more coherent, a fact that would have horrified him only a week ago, before he knew what it felt like to have John Watson in his arms.

John pulls away slightly, sitting back against Sherlock’s thighs.  Sherlock attempts to follow, but John catches his chin in one hand, his thumb sliding across his lower lip, causing tingles to erupt down Sherlock’s spine.

“We had a deal, remember?” John says.  His eyes remain fixed on Sherlock’s mouth for another moment before he lifts them to meet Sherlock’s hooded gaze. “You tell me yours, and I tell you mine.”  He smiles.  “My turn.”


Part One | Part Two

OKAY so that ended up being longer and a bit…more than I meant for it to, but there you have it.  I’d like to go ahead and say that this was rather inspired by @thespiritualmultinerd‘s comment on this post here.  After reading that I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, so you have them to thank for this.  :D

I guess there will now be a part three because I can never seem to do anything easily lmao.  Thanks for reading, friends, I hope it was worth the little wait.  <3 Just tags below the cut.  I apologize if I left anyone out.  <3

@hockeybella25 @isitandwonder @astronbookfilms @johnlockerooni @jonhlocks@astudyinsnoggy @one-thousand-leaves @theloneviolin @an-east-wind @hushwatson @lilbeelocked @freebirdflyingforever @perpetuallylostinmyownworld @ouramazingworldofbooks @holmesique @bellarium @highfunctioningfangirl @lediona25 @atypical-snowman @cyn2k @wssh13 @johnlockphanseptipliermkay @joyfulblazestarlightlove @daringlydomestic @smol-owl-bean @cj-holmes @giddystars @anyawen @sherlockisactuallyagirlsname221 @sarzipanbatch @mssmithlove1 @madelinecookie @quirkycinnamon @august-emerald @softhoratio @sherlock-totally-loves-john @lenlaterz @moch-ila @the-hopeless-existentialist @221bbookshelf @pixelpawnie @busybiscute @wiscolina @jazziejexbird @reynardinepttr

(a soft kimberly and trini fic) (6.4 k)

i drowned myself (in your holy water)”


If you ask Kimberly, it started at dawn.

She finds Trini at the quarry before sunrise, face tilted against the pearly gray sky, poised at the crest of jagged rock. She is a masterpiece in silhouette, harsh edges smoothed by cool shadow, baggy pants hanging low on curvy hips.

“Hey,” Kimberly says, voice low, hesitant to disturb the quiet. “Been here long?”

Trini turns toward her, shedding shadow as she steps off the ridge. Her face is suddenly cast in the first rays of morning light, dew catching crystal bright on the toes of chunky, repurposed army boots.

“Just since six,” Trini answers shrugging. “You’re right on time.” She reaches Kimberly all at once, stretching out to tug at the hem of Kimberly’s sweatshirt. “Pink. Cute.”

Kimberly reaches out to box at Trini’s ears, a yellow beanie pulled low over her forehead. “I could say the same thing.”

Trini blocks her halfway there, catching at her wrist with careful fingers, pulling her hand close against her chest. “Watch it, Hart.”

Kimberly would say it started here: with her hand against Trini’s collarbone and Trini’s lips curled into that small, just so smile. Though the landscape is a portraiture in charcoal, a gray sky sweeping low over the horizon, ashen quarry rock stretching to meet it, Trini is a marvel of color.

Keep reading

I am sooooo sick of the whole Kartrashian klan. I don’t want to see anyone fixing their rat mouths to defend them or say they started any “trend”, cause guess what, they didn’t. I’m so sick of black people getting pushed to the back of the line while people like them are getting pushed to the front. I don’t know how anyone, especially black people, can defend them seeing that I never hear them defending black people. If they aren’t going to help black people then they are just perpetrating and getting in the fucking way and need to go somewhere else with their bullshit. All these sluts do is steal shit and split on BBD. (And for the record, before anyone comes for me, I’m not calling them sluts because they do sexual acts with multiple different black men (no shade, no tea). I’m calling them sluts because they stole black women’s men on multiple occasions: Blac Chyna, Amber Rose, Trina. To me, you’re only a slut when you are knowingly a side chick or just steal someone’s man when you know they’re in a relationship. That’s why I called them sluts, so don’t come for me because I will tell you about yourself, your mama and your daddy.) Don’t worry Kardashain stans, I’m not putting all the blame on those fucking trash bags. Half the blame goes to the black men that hype them up. I wish black men would hype black women the way they hype up the Kardashians. I’m a HUGE advocate for women and women’s rights, but I just can’t support these women. All in all, I have heard Kylie and the other sisters get credited for acrylic nails, wigs, cornrows and hoop earrings. If I hear someone else say Kylie created a trend for something that’s been done by black people years before she was even born, I’M FUCKING BEATING THEIR ASS!

Back to schoool ! Not quite haha but I meant to draw that since so long and since my night was cut short I finished the piece today ✨

I wanted to try something new, cause drawing heads is all fun but I don’t wanna forget anatomy basics and I need to improve on bodies! They’re perfect for my studies, also I love drawing them anyway ♥️

Their bromance is everything I was hoping for! I can’t wait to see them again especially witness Zig interacting? He’s already so nervous it’s so cute!  

The bag reference is @joyfulchoices! And I love the design for Chris 

If it’s a bit weird bear with me because I didn’t get a full night yet haha  ♥️

Chris and Zig are @playchoices‘ the artwork’s mine