kiss vest

anonymous asked:

heyo!! I love your art to death ahhh it's so pretty. you're a great writer too!! I kinda want some cheezy but cute Janstar or starkie fanfiction, if you don't mind!

i’m so sorry my dude, this could’ve been cheesier amd better written but i haven’t written in like MONTHS and also i had to look up a prompt lmao but i looked it up on pinterest so ye, gotta find the link laterrrr

decided to go with starkie bc TRYING NEW THINGS SMALLY and also there’s like no starkie fanfiction?? wtf guys this ship is really good i swear

(also tysm for all the kind words!! u silly sweetheart ;3)

Jackie hadn’t been ‘lazer-tagging,’ - as she had called it as a child - in years. And oh boy did she miss it. It was the first week of summer holidays and after the horror that was finals, she decided to organise an outing between herself and her friends.

She had beamed as she’d slipped the glowing vest over her head, and ran in cackling out loud – despite the employee asking them not to run. Pfft, as if. She quickly hid and had somehow avoided being hit so far, snickering as she hid behind structures – shooting her friends when they least expected it, while remaining hidden.

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Trading Skins

Title: Trading Skins

 Summary: When an argument over tradition fashion versus dwarves and hobbits ensues, Thorin and Bilbo decide to try the others ways. It ends with some interesting results.

 Warnings: Mild Argument. Playful Banter. Hints at Adult Themes.

 Masterlist of Fanfiction

Originally posted by srtanutellaplz

“I can’t wear this!”  Bilbo cried out as he waddled out of the bedroom.  He had been trying to acclimate, he really had, but there were somethings that a hobbit would just simply not do.  And boots, of all things, was one of them.

“What’s wrong?” Thorin looked up from his papers to see his husband stumble out of the bedroom.  Bilbo had on some different clothes, he looked like a mismatched mess.  He had those short pants he wore in the Shire, with a dwarvish tunic and belt, with a fur cloak, and no boots.  The boots were in his hand.

Nope.  Take that back…they were now out the front door.

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Headcanon where Naruto and Sasuke don’t actually do the relationship thing the way you’re supposed to.

Instead, it hits Sasuke one day that Naruto has been coming to his house every single day since his return. And that they’re always together, sparring, cooking meals, even washing the dishes together.

It also hits him a couple weeks later that Naruto starts making excuses for wanting to sleep in his house instead of his own apartment. And the first couple of nights Naruto sleeps on the couch, and one morning he “magically” (according to Naruto) wakes up next to Sasuke on the bed. He never sleeps on the couch again.

Sasuke wakes up a couple weeks after falling into the routine of sleeping together on the same bed only to find that now naruto has taken the habit of cuddling him. So he sighs and wraps a lazy arm around his waist, bringing Naruto closer to him.

A little after that, they’re getting home from sparring and Sasuke goes to take a bath. And Naruto fucking joins him. In the most “pretend-it’s-no-homo” way possible. And sasuke’s pretty sure this is getting really fucking gay, but he doesn’t say anything, because it’s Naruto, and he doesn’t mind.

Sasuke confronts Naruto about this the day the blond holds his hand like it’s nothing while they’re sitting on the couch, on a rainy day. Naruto freaks out, sputters non sense and leaves the house, Sasuke doesn’t see him for two weeks.

Then Sasuke leaves for a very dangerous mission, and the fact that he’d been sulking at the loss of Naruto’s warmth next to his every morning, and the loss of Naruto’s vibrant voice and smile, makes him loose focus a couple of times.

The mission is supposed to last for a week. Sasuke and his team don’t return for 16 days and they lose communication with Konoha because of complications.

When they do return, Sasuke wonders if Naruto has missed him. It’s been a month for god sake. He doesn’t have time to think about it, because as soon as he sets foot on his house a teary-eyed blonde that hasn’t slept properly in weeks grabs him by the vest and kisses him.

Things aren’t so confusing after that.


Request: The lovely owner of @yellowtheremarvelfan & @we-are-the-walking-dead-daryl asked me to write an imagine where the reader is Rick’s daughter and he caughts her in the act with Daryl.

Info: Around the time in the prison.

I hope you like it xx

As you walk the halls of cell block D you tried to make sure to be as invisible as possible.
If anyone will ever find out about whom you are seeing in secret, things in here will change drastically.
You, the 19-year-old daughter of Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon, the Redneck.

But you can’t help it but like the fact that this is your dirty little secret and that you have to keep it that way.
That fact makes everything even more exciting.

A silent cough draws your attention to it and you frown because you think that Rick or anyone else has found you.
But as you see the beautiful eyes that check you out you can’t help it but smile as you face him and wipe some hair out of your face.

“Hey handsome.”, you smile brighter and walk over to him to wrap your arms around his neck and to look up to him.
“I’ve missed you today, where have you been?”, he places a soft kiss on your head and looks down on you.
“Had to help Beth with Judith. She was very winy today.”, you admit and he nods before he places a soft kiss on your lips before picking you up gently.

Silent and without letting go of your lips he carries you over to one of the cells you cleaned out a few days ago.
Carefully he lays you down on one of the beds and bends over you before kissing your neck and getting rid of your shirt before kissing the rest of your skin, piece by piece.

You moan under his kisses and push his vest down before pulling his shirt over his head and touching his body.
For a second he hesitates again with your touches but soon relaxes and just letting it happen.

Just as you are about to open up his jeans you can hear a familiar voice calling out for Daryl.
“Daryl? You here? We need some help at the fences.”, Rick looks into the cell the second your hand disappeared in his jeans.
“Y/N? What the fuck, man? Get off her.”, Rick growls and Daryl immediately jumps of you, trying to find his clothes.
This is bad. Really bad. Even though he would never hurt Daryl physically, you know that he has other ways of making Daryl being the bad guy here.
“Dad, relax. I can explain.”, Daryl hands you your shirt and you pull it over before approaching your father.

“NOT now, Y/N. I need to have a conversation with Daryl first.”, he still growls and you can see him getting more mad every second that goes by.
“Dad, please.”, you lay a hand on his chest but he takes one step back, shaking his head.
“I said, not know. Go to your little sister and give Beth a break.”, he mumbles and you give Daryl a worried look before heading out of cell block D.

After 2 long hours that seemed like a lifetime, Daryl and your father show up in cell block C again, not talking.
“Daryl.”, you get up and approach him, but he just walks by you, not even looking at you.
Confused you watch him and then turn around to your father, giving him a angry look.

“What the fuck, dad? What did you say to him?”, you growl and he grabs you softly by your upper arm before pulling you with him into your cell.
“I just had a friendly conversation with him and told him that I can not accept my young daughter being in a relationship with a grown up man like him.”

“Seriously, dad? I am nineteen-years-old and can make my own decisions, thank you. I know you only want to protect me but I need you to cut me loose.
You can’t protect me forever and don’t you think it’ll be better if Daryl takes care of me like someone, who doesn’t even know how to survive out there?”, you raise an eyebrow and he shakes his head before he leaves you alone in the cell.

“Don’t you dare leaving me in here!”, you yell and follow him outside to the fences.
He stops and slowly turns around to you before crossing his arms in front of his body.
“Y/N, you are nineteen.”
“And I’ve been through more than any other nineteen-year-old.”, you sigh and lower your attitude a bit.
“I really do like him, dad. This isn’t just about sex.”, your voice is now nothing than a whisper and you pull some hair out of your face.

“Fine. Just..try to behave when I am around. I really need time to wrap my head around that.”, he finally gives in and you smile a little bit before giving him a kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks, daddy. And no worries. You will always be my favorite man.”, you blink before heading down to the fences where Daryl is busy killing some walkers.

He still gives you the silent treatment and you sigh before taking your knife and start to kill some walkers with him.
“What if your dad sees us?”, he mumbles and you start to grin before looking over to him.
“Remember when you once told me I am very good at convincing people?”, you ask and he raises an eyebrow before looking over to you too.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. Just told him that he should be lucky that you’re here to look out for me. Could have been someone worse.”, your grin gets brighter and he shakes his head in amusement before grabbing you by your waist and pulling you closer to him.
“Am I allowed to do this now?”, he smiles a bit before placing a kiss on your lips in a way, that makes your knees go week.

Essays in Existentialism: MASH

Just this morning I was thinking about army!Lexa and doctor!Clarke…sure, in my mind they were both overseas, Lexa commanding her group and Clarke patching them up but…

“My favourite customer,” the doctor grinned looking over the chart as the soldier winced on the gurney. The tent was alive with dying, alive with the absolute chaos that came with cleaning up absolute chaos. “Glad to see you in one piece, Lieutenant.” 

“We have to stop meeting like this, Doc,” Lexa flexed her jaw to avoid groaning. 

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anonymous asked:

Kissing Graves kissing Graves kissing Graves Pls pls pls I need to be fucked up by this

I told myself newt headcanons tonight but i really needed to get these done before i forgot about them LOL.

  • Undoubtedly, he’s a very tactile.
    • Also meaning that he relies and connects with his sense of touch — and it seems to be even more so while kissing. Intimacy, let alone kissing is very private thing for Percival. And so in those moments when he does let his wall down, he becomes hands on and tender.
      • Brushing his fingertips over your cheeks when kissing.
        • Grabbing your waist and pulling you closer when kissing, and feeling his fingers tangle in the fabric. 
        • Ghosting his thumb over your bottom lip before diving in for an actual kiss.
        • Loves to feel the movement of your lips against his so he can more accordingly to deepen the kiss.
        • His fingers running through your hair before he grabs at it.  Percival oddly enjoying the satisfying feeling of such silky hair being in the palm of his hand is.
          • Percival shutting his eyes during a kiss, which in turns, heightens his sense of touch. 
  • You kissing the creases on his face.
    • And reminding him, “Frowning and scoffing are going to give you wrinkles.”
    • To which he rolls his eyes and continues his work, but this time, with a bit more pep because he finds it entertaining that you’re so concerned with his wrinkles.
    • Kissing the crease between his eyebrows, especially after he’s had a long day. Peppering your kisses down to his lips where you give him a very soft one.
  • Forehead kisses/hair kisses.
    • Usually it’s Graves giving these to you. They’re very simple means of affection, something that he’s not greatly exceptional at showing sometimes.
      • Imagine him looking down at you, smoothing back some of your hair and placing a delicate kiss on your hairline. His lips linger, he almost digs his face into your hair and pulls you close but he pushes himself to pull away.
        Looking up at him after this happens with a small bit of a frown because you wanted him to stay close.
  • Knuckle kisses, especially when he knows he’s about to leave for an investigation. 
    • Percival slowly picking up your hand with both of his and raising it to his lips. He pressed a hard kiss there and tells you, “I’ll be back before you know it.”
      • Literally doesn’t make it an easier, especially if it’s an investigation in another state, sometimes country. 
  • Those early morning sort of kisses.
    • You digging your face into his neck, kissing his neck softly and breathing in. He smells clean and sharp. 
      • Peppering your lips all over his face when he’s finally waking up. Usually ends with you on your back, Percival hovering over you while asking what you were doing.
        You sass back, “You’re the investigator. What does it appear like I’m doing?”
        • Unintentional coffee tasting kisses. You know, those ones where Percival kisses you right after his cup of coffee in the morning, and you can still taste it on his lips. 
        • When you first started dating, you expected him to be the sort of man to enjoy black coffee, but he likes it with sugar and a lot of creamer.
  • On the lip kisses.
    • Tend to be very rough around the edges when he kisses you, but the longer he does so, and the more he remembers that he doesn’t need to be so stiff and stern around you, he finally lets loose a little bit.
    • First, in his shoulders as you wrap your arms around him, then the rest of his body follows.
    • Soon enough, Percival’s fingers are holding at your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses your lips with pent up want and love.
      • Peck on the lips before he heads off for work. Sometimes more than one. (Okay, sometimes it’s a little heated in the doorway, but it never gets passed a kiss).
        You straighten his vest, then his tie to make sure he’s suitable for work. 
  • Desperate kisses.
    • Those sort that leave you completely breathless, because at times, you forget that Percival can feel outside of the realm of emotions he chooses to portray to the outside world.
      • Tying into the knuckle kisses, when he returns from a high risked, dangerous case and he makes it home to you, there are literally no words spoken.
        Percival dives straight in for a kiss, and thankfully the instances that this has happened, you were pushed against the wall behind you. His hands reach up, he cups your face and doesn’t let himself relax against you.
        He pulls away, his eyes shut. He needed this. Needed you close to him and needed the reminder that there was still some sort of good in the world.

UIhm, I hope you guys enjoyed. ;u; Reblogs & likes mean a lot! Thank you!

Just a reminder

that a lesbian was shot on Wynonna Earp tonight, and she was wearing a bulletproof vest. She kissed her tiny gf and got the fuck up.

💯💯💯👌🏼👌🏼🙌🏼🎉🎉👏🏽💖💝 👌🏼 💜👩‍❤️‍👩❗❗❗👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💯💯😊😍👌🏽👍🏾😎💥🎉🎉🎉🎊🍾🍾🎀🎁🍻

that’s all. thank u for ur time.

the-silent-smiles  asked:

Can you do one where you're sunburnt badly and Harry like helps you feel better ! Idk how to word this ! :) (love your writing, pal)

This is going to be a short little something - enjoy. Also, thank you for loving my writing; I love you. x

“Baby, hey. Hi, you’re awake,” Harry cooed softly, perching himself on the edge of the bed and running a soft hand down your bare back, your naked front pressed against the mattress of the double bed in the apartment you’d been assigned for your two week holiday in Santorini. The crisp white sheets were soft and cool beneath your burning and aching and sun-kissed body, sending a spark of relief through your burnt skin. 

In the spur of the moment and a chat upon his bed back in Holmes Chapel, you had agreed to accompanying him on a holiday that was just the two of you - no parents, no friends and no one to keep an eye upon you. As college for the both of you, as well as the rest of those teenagers experiencing the college system, had come to an end after two years, there was always the a constant topic emitting from the chatter amongst the friendship groups loitering the corridors or taking up the entire space in a class room and Harry couldn’t help but want a holiday. 

To join in with the conversations about having a holiday with the one he loves. 

To join in with the conversations when people asked about his summer holiday went. 

To join in when people asked about his first holiday with his girlfriend; the love of his life, his first love, and his first long-term, school and college sweetheart. 

A holiday where he got to be with you for the entirety of the two weeks without being torn away from you because his mates wanted him to go out to kick a football around, or because he had a class that overran and you were whisked away for lunch with your girl friends, or because he had to take the lunch break to do homework that he had forgotten about and needed doing before his lesson that afternoon.

“Mm-hm. Where have you been? You look hot,” you murmured softly with sleep lingering in your tone, your cheek pressed against the white pillow beneath your head. 

With one eye cracking open, you took in his appearance. His upper body was sporting a KISS tank top vest with a pair of his white and green swim trunks covering and hanging down from his hips, water droplets trickling down his skin. Skin that was incredibly sun-kissed and tanned, a colour that looked different to when you had both arrived on the warm island of Santorini just a week ago. His hair was pushed beneath a fedora that he had packed, tucking it beneath his array of swim trunks that you had packed for him; a hat that he panicked about not finding back in Cheshire, his feet frantically carrying him around his bedroom as you stayed cross-legged upon his bed, taking up the job of folding his clothes and setting them neatly in his suitcase.

“I just went out to the pool for a bit. Had a bit of a sunbathe, a sleep in the sun, and a couple of drinks with a few men out there,” he smiled, brushing his fingers up your arm. “How are you feeling?”

Over the last two days of sunbathing on a sun lounger and spending time in the swimming pool built for those staying in the apartment complex, you had been exposed to the rays with limited shade to cover your skin.

“Hm. I feel better than earlier. I’m still aching,” you grumbled, closing your eyes and wincing softly as you rolled onto your side. The thin sheet being used as a blanket through the night covered your lower half, your arm dangling over your bare chest, as you stifled a yawn and sighed out a heavy breath. “Did you get more aloe vera from the store down the street?”

Being exposed to the hot weather and the suns dangerous rays radiating down upon you, you were sure that one of you would get sunburnt - and with hopes, you prayed it wasn’t going to be you - leading to spending a couple of days out of the heat to recover with burning and peeling skin. Yet, as humoured as Harry was about the idea, he was still as helpful as he could be; lathering your aching shoulders with after-sun and aloe vera after your cold showers, helping you dress for dinner when it got difficult for you raise your arms, and dabbing a cold flannel against your skin through the night when you found it uncomfortable to lay in a position you found yourself in without the discomfort. His soft voice whispering softly into your ear as you rolled around in pain, groaning about wanting it to go away as soon as possible. 

“I did, I did. It’s on the counter. Do you want me to rub some onto your skin or do you want to have a cold shower first?” He wondered softly, hunching over and pressing his lips to your head, just above your ear. A spot he had found himself planting his lips more than usual through the night, as you had your back pressed against his chest with your legs bent and your feet entwined with his; a position you weren’t unfamiliar with with the two of you sharing copious numbers of nights in either your bedroom or his bedroom, after a Friday night spent out with friends or out at the cinema watching the talked about movie of that week. “A cold shower might work f’you?”

“Showers don’t seem t’work, so, can you just put some aloe vera on and then help me dress? I’m getting hungry,” you smiled, watching as he stood to his feet and made his way over to the dressing table opposite the bed. “Where are we going for dinner?”

With research carried out a week before you took the plane to Greece, he had found dinner places and little attractions that the two of you could - and would - enjoy on your holiday together. With a list of restaurants and their names on his Notes app on his phone, he was determined to take you to every single one, trying to exquisite Greek food and getting with the culture to fit in with where you were.

“There’s a nice little restaurant a little walk away down the road, called Sky Lounge. It’s by the beach and it looks really pretty night with lights and with the amount of people that go there. We can spend the night in there, eat some dinner, have a couple of drinks, have a walk on the beach before we come back here and have a sleep. How’s that sound?” Harry smiled, uncapping the bottle of the aloe vera in his hand and setting the lid on the bedside table. “On your front, c’mon, baby.”

Rolling over onto your front, he settled in a straddling position. His legs either side of your hips as he squeezed some of the gel into his hand, the cold feeling sending a shiver through his spine.

“This is probably goin’ t’ hurt, and just swear at me if it does, yeah? I’ll be as soft as I can,” he cooed, hesitantly hovering his hand above your burning shoulders. 

“Just do it, babe. It’s killin’ me,” you groaned into the pillow, your arms flat out against your side to make sure the skin wasn’t stretching over your muscles, bringing a painful sensation across the top of your upper back. As the feeling of the aloe vera came into contact with your skin, with the added pressure of Harry’s fingertips kneading in the sweet-smelling gel, a soft groan left your lips. Your features crumpling and scrunching up as best as they could from the constraint the pillow was holding upon your head. “Mm, Christ. That feels good.”

“Is that okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“O’course not. S’just the right amount of pressure,” you grumbled, almost inaudibly as he continued to knead his fingers softly against your shoulders. Euphoria covering your relaxed figure as he shuffled himself upon your thighs, and hunched himself over, pressing kisses to your lathered skin. Before he rolled onto the empty side of the bed, he pressed his lips in a longer kiss with more pressure behind it. “Why’d you stop? That was good.”

With a smile and his head retracting from your burning skin, he rolled onto the bed and with a soft ‘aye’ from him almost falling over the side of the mattress, he propped himself up comfortably on the edge of the bed, and smiled at you wider, his teeth showing from behind his lips.

“Had t’ stop otherwise I would have gone further and we wouldn’t go out for dinner then,” Harry chuckled, his warm breath fanning across your face as you turned your head. “Are you ready to go for some dinner? I just need to go for a shower, but, I’ll come out and we can get you dressed and ready to go, yeah?”

You gave him a swift nod and closed your eyes, your forehead dropping to rest against his own as his hand snaking around your head and cupping the back in his palm. His fingers pressing into your scalp and massaging softly, soft sighs leaving your throat and making a sound through your nose. 

“That sounds great. I love you.”

“I love you too, my burnt baby.”