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#kiss ask
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celrond, 26? 😭🥺
Thanks so much for the ask @i-am-a-lonely-visitor! Here are some kisses on some scars <3
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Celebrían found them very appealing, particularly when Elrond took the pestle in hand.
'Do not laugh,' she demanded, laughing herself, tapping him with her fan in that light, suggestive fashion that had been all the rage in the Eriador of her youth. 'It’s all in the grip, and how clear with intent your eyes go. Such beautiful hands you have, beloved.'  
Legs round and bare, she tilted on the edge of their rumpled bed, the better to watch him play apothecary for himself; and laughed, lower in her throat, when his ears warmed at the warmth of her admiration, and he proved very easy to distract from his tasks and trap back into bed.
Celebrían was generous of heart, and strange-minded at times. Elrond's hands were accounted good, life-saving, gracious and kind, and most days he did not disdain them at all; but they were not beautiful.
There were scars in them from old battles and skirmishes, accidental prickles when picking sea urchins from the sea pools of Sirion - nicks from weapons training and sparring, from long campaigns and hunting trips.
Tough calluses littered his palm, the likes of which no elven warrior or scribe, no lord or harpist showed; and in the cold the skin broke, red and angry, chafing at the winter, even as flowers bloomed through the frost when he walked his red and angry feet on it.  
The last time he had pressed his palm to his brother's, there had been fine lines already on Elros' hands.
Since then, none remained to share his insights with, no one who cared particularly for his advice on the brewing of Peredhel remedies. He brewed his own oils, in his stillroom in Lindon; in Imladris, he taught his children to work the copper cauldron and the ladle, the grinding stone and the glass vial.
Arwen liked dying best; Elladan enjoyed sparring with his mother, Elrohir played with poisons; and all of them carried little pots of balm in the pocket of their childish aprons, in case their fingers ached in the evenings after they played outside.
In high summer he sang to the bees in their homes, led them singing when it was time to swarm, and picked the honey himself, to offer with slick fingers for Celebrían - tithe and right, to be given over to the lady of the valley.
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Elrond remembered his mother rubbing honey on his father's hands. Earendil's hands had seemed immense to him, broad and strong and rope-burned, made harsh by salt. He was so careful when he held Elros and Elrond - 
He remembered; he was nearly certain he remembered it. The past was never as unclouded in his heart as the future.
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Celebrían followed his movements from the sick bed for many unspeaking days.
The light of her eyes, so dimmed, was wary with terror when she lay watching him grind athelas and lavender and honeycomb - the strength of his arms turned into a threat for her to be wary of. Any strength, of any kind - any instrument might be turned into a source of violence.
She did not scream, awake or asleep; the fear was a long and horrible spell, an enduring half-dream from which his gentlest touch could not rouse her, only return her to a different form of torment. There was no safety for her, even in Imladris; no potion or cantrip to heal body or soul, and no comfort to be had. 
In Valinor, Celebrían made her own ointments.
For the tending of scars; to massage her gnarled aches, perfume her wrists and neck, the dip of her spine. Her eyes were clear, keen and keener than they had been, steadier in their vigilance. Elrond embraced this version of his lady no less tightly; he curled into her height, and laughed as he wept when she swept him off her feet.
As a patient in Lórien, and a student amidst the gardens where every dreamer walked at least once in their life, Celebrían had learned much from the Lords and Ladies of the West, and more still from elves ancient and young alive.
In his absence, she had wrought against her war-fans anew, bound them with lace and poison, ridden with Oromë's Hunters, danced among Vána's revels, wept with Nienna and spoken with her own voice the glory and grief of those that loved Midde-Earth and had lost it.
The lady of the valley, a lover of sweetness, kept her door ever-open to her kin and her husband's without differentiation - kept it open for him, when at last Elrond was gladly swept into the shelter of her love and rested there for a time, nursing new wounds and sharing his grief, weary through and through as he was. They tended to each other in the evenings, bandages and oils laid out on the same desk; Elrond wept a little more, the first time Celebrían touched him, and there was not a shadow of fear in her eyes, only the cold memory of it in his heart.
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They grasped hands and wound their arms, walking in the twilight through the high trellises like a courting pair. Celebrían's little finger was a small stump, her braces cold against his arm; Elrond's bones, grown frail and strangely hollow after so long carrying Vilya, were nestled in hers with care as they walked up the hill to the painted walls of her house.
In the spring after Arwen was wed and lost, Celebrían taught Elrond how to work the herbs of her garden and gather them to her precise requirements, and how to work the tight aches working in the garden or standing too long left her with, even in the Blessed Land.
 The stars were the same all throughout Arda, but brighter in these skies; and some creeping ivies with potent smells and sweetly cooling leaves blossomed only at night, their petals gleaming with the very same silver of Celebrían's tresses.
Her scar-ridged palms chafed against Elrond's lips. They tasted of lavender and starlight when he pressed a glancing touch of his mouth to them, of nectars whose names he knew not yet and was only starting to learn now.
'Lovely beyond all other sights,' he said, coy and sly, when his lady pressed them against his cheeks to tilt him for a greater kiss; and Celebrían laughed merrily at his plight, because his skin ran warm with blood under her grasp, and his knees no less liable to bend like reeds when she pulled him back into her arms.
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nerdypanda3126 · 1 year
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“possessive kiss to show the world they belong to each other’’ 💕
Hehehe I hope you guys didn't think I forgot about these 😁 thanks for the ask nony! Featuring viperbug because I love them 😁
Marinette twisted her ring around and around her left hand ring finger as she worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. She and Luka had only been married a day, but she'd thought maybe something would be different. That she'd look different somehow or feel different or… it should be obvious, right? Marriage should've changed her in some life-altering way, and yet… it was just another day.
Luka knocked on the door frame, then leaned into it and looked at her with the same expression he'd worn yesterday. For him, it was glaringly obvious. He didn't even need the glint of silver on his left hand; you could tell by looking at him that he was madly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love.
With her.
She blushed even as she thought it and Luka chuckled.
"You bring new meaning to the term 'blushing bride,'" he said, clearly amused.
"I just… was it right, do you think? To… run away like this? Get married on our own and come back and…" She twisted her ring again as she thought.
His easy smile twitched downward, but he moved to wrap her in his arms and rest his chin on her shoulder. "We'll still have the big wedding, Mari, I promise."
She put her hands over his and sank back into him. "That's not… exactly… what I'm worried about…" She caught his eye in the mirror and tapped her earrings. Luka nodded in understanding, then pressed a kiss behind her ear.
"We can do it together, if you want," he said. "Confront the press. It's not like we both don't have experience." He kissed a trail from behind her ear, down her jawline, and down her neck, then he worked on following the line of her shoulder, shifting the fabric of her shirt to get better access. She smiled despite her worries.
“That’s not really helping my motivation to go talk to anyone, you know.”
“So don’t,” he murmured. “Why do they have to know anything? For all they know, Ladybug is a 1,000 year old god with no… earthly desires.” At that he smirked against her skin and slipped her sleeve and her bra strap further down her shoulder. “And we’re technically on our honeymoon,” he reminded her.
She turned to wrap her arms around his waist and hugged him as tight as she could, burying her face in his shoulder. He shifted gears easily and let his hands fall respectfully to her hips.
“I just want it over with,” she muttered into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t enjoy this, being with you, until I know they’ll stop speculating and guessing and wondering and I want to stop hearing about how I’m obviously in love with Chat Noir every time I turn on the news and you’re sitting right next to me and we’re madly, happily in love and married now, and I know you’re not jealous, and I know it doesn’t bother you, but…” She nuzzled into him for good measure. “I belong to you,” she admitted softly. “And I want everyone else to know that, too.”
"Then I'm ready when you are, Mrs. Couffaine." He waited until she let go first, then smirked at her blush. His teal flash of magic was right behind her pink one, and they both left by using their balcony window.
It didn’t take long for the press to find them, or for the relentless questions to start. Why hasn’t Chat Noir been seen in a while? Why did Ladybug leave the city unprotected? Where had she gone? Was Viperion a permanent member of the team? Was she still in love with Chat Noir?
Viperion stood a little behind her, but kept his hand surreptitiously on the small of her back, lending her strength. She felt him tense the smallest amount at the last question, which strengthened her resolve. She took a deep breath.
“Chat Noir officially left the team about a month ago,” she started. “I am not, and have never been in love with him. He left of his own volition and I don’t expect to see him back anytime soon, although he’d be welcome if he did want to come back.”
There was a rush of questions and the circle around them pressed forward just enough to make her claustrophobic. She felt Viperion move and he was standing next to her now, twining his fingers with hers and squeezing her hand. Despite the pressure of the situation, she couldn’t help but smile.
“As for where I was, I’m happy to announce that I was getting married.”
There was a collective pause as what she’d said seemed to take everyone off guard. Then, one voice called out, “Married to who?”
“To the newest permanent member of the team,” Viperion answered beside her, and she didn’t even have to turn her head to know he was smirking at the shockwave that his statement caused. All eyes shifted to their hands, checking for rings which had unfortunately been hidden by their suits, and then over to Ladybug for her confirmation. She couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks. There was only one way they’d believe them.
She turned to Viperion and curled her hand around his neck to pull him down. He followed her motion easily and covered her lips with his, smiling into the kiss. His arms wound around the small of her back, and she gasped as he lifted her off her feet easily. For a moment she forgot the press, forgot the suits, forgot the world and lost herself in kissing her husband, tangling her fingers in his hair, delighting in the way he seemed to be just as lost in kissing her.
It was only when a flash of a camera went off in her face that she remembered herself and slid down to touch her toes back to the ground, although she also didn't miss the way Viperion shifted to be a little more behind her to hide what his skin-tight suit definitely wouldn't. She shot a smirk back at the nearest camera person and wrapped her arm around Viperion's waist as she pulled her yoyo out and started twirling it.
"Now if you'll excuse us," she said, her teasing tone more directed at Luka than anyone else. She slipped her hand a little lower down his back to cup his ass and squeezed as surreptitiously as she could. Luka actually blushed under his mask, although the look he shot her told her she'd pay for it later. She bit back a giggle and finished her statement.
"We're on our honeymoon."
Send me a kiss!
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as-above-rp · 2 months
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💋 Roland? uwu
"What? Don't recognize me?"
The vampire had just finished a long night of drag performance, wearing a full ensemble including a form fitting vintage style dress and a wig that invoked the likes of Marylinn Monroe, and layers of exaggerated makeup. He was EVEN TALLER than Gabe, wearing heels so high he could easily be standing above six foot, and red stiletto nails on his fingers to match.
"I don't blame you--there's a lot of layers of makeup going on. But surely you recognize my voice, yes? Or do you need a little more to jog your memory?"
Strutting closer with the stride of a runway model, Roland closed the distance between him and Gabe. He tilted the werecat's face up with one finger under his chin, and leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek. And that lipstick wasn't coming off--he worked way too hard on it to risk any smudging!
"How about now?" Roland smiled, smug and full of confidence.
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primordialscream · 2 years
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McWexler #4 and #32!
send me a number and i'll write a mcwexler kiss!
4. ... where it hurts
"Stop it". She means it and Jimmy is painfully aware of that, and yet... he shifts his weight from one foot to the other clumsily, but doesn't move, even though he really feels the urge to at least do something to help her out. It's just a stupid sandwich, he thinks, and feels so useless, and shameful, and guilty that he just can't stand still anymore. He starts fidgeting with Marco's ring. It's his fault if Kim worked her ass off like that and yes, she might have said that he didn't force to get in the car the day of her accident — that's true, of course — but she never would've been so tired if it wasn't for him and the fucking mess he had made. And now he can't even help her to make a fucking sandwich. I should have been in that car, not her. He knows she would never want him to think that, but as his heart sinks deeper and deeper, he can't help but feel that way. It's her voice that wakes him up from the darkness of his mind. "Are you alright?", she asks, and, with a faint smile, he kisses her scratched and bruised forehead. No, he's not alright, and he can't help but feel that that's his doom: to suffer perpetually, because he'll never be enough for her... because he'll always hurt her.
32. ... to wake up
Wow. Wow wow wow. Not a single coherent thought crosses his still sleepy mind, it's just... W-o-w. Yawning a bit too loudly, Jimmy sits up against the pillow, and in the dim light of the early morning showering with silver and gold Kim's bedroom, he watches her. Her locks spread on the cushions, her eyes still closed, her lips parted as she breathes softly and rhythmically. She sleeps... he sighs: he wishes they could stay like that, like, exactly like that, forever. If he closes his eyes, he can still smell the scent of her shampoo — vanilla, he thinks, and maybe something else — and remember the taste of her mouth and tongue — tequila, just like his. Shit, I am so fucking happy I could cry, he realizes... he has waited to kiss her and hold her and be inside her for so so long. And there they are now. Why do they have to get up? Why does she have to go to work? Why can't they just make love all day? Maybe he can cook for her. Maybe they can rent a movie. Maybe... he tries not to think too hard about it: it's a nice little dream... but still, that's just that. A dream. He sighs deeply as he turns around and kisses her eyes: "Wake up, sleeping beauty. You don't want to keep Hamlin waiting, do you?". His lips graze her forehead, her nose, and finally her mouth; she hums against them, and smiles. She's so fucking beautiful when she smiles. "This is not the right way to make me hurry, Jimmy", she mocks him, deepening the kiss. They don't have all day, but one minute with her... well, that's more than enough.
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chaoticdumbassrogue · 2 years
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11- Scoundress :)))
Not going to lie, I did not know we had a ship name for Han x Leia. Buckle up for “I almost lost you” kiss.
Leia had known Kylo Ren had attacked Han even from her position on ground control; the shockwaves of pain and fear and love were too much for anyone to ignore and she knew if Han was coming back, it would be in a crude box.
She was not surprised that Chewie was able to bring everyone back, she was surprised he was able to bring everyone back alive.
The poor kid, Finn, laid next to Han in the medbay; both were connected by wires and tubes keeping them alive.
“We’ll see each other again. I believe that.” The little desert girl, so like another desert child Leia knew, kissed Finn’s forehead before she hugged Leia goodbye.
Leia walked to Han’s side and took his hand.
“If you die and leave me with this mess, I’ll shoot you.” Leia let out a laugh because what was her other option? Cry about it? Her mothers were Queens and if they could get things done without tears, then so could Leia.
Leia leaned down and kissed Han’s cheek. “I swear to the Force.”
Leia smiled when she felt her hand get squeezed.
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artinandwritin · 1 year
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11. spiderman kiss for gusiri <3
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The spiderman kiss is literally one of the cutest things and omg GusSiri is so dorky and adorable in it
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inkskinned · 8 months
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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startreklesbian · 15 days
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Happy birthday to me i guess
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malinaa · 4 months
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if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing
#imagine you're a boy who's going to die. you're in love with the girl you've been watching from afar. you know your fate.#you just want to help her‚ but then there's the announcement and she's here in front of you‚ kissing you‚ risking her life for you and you#think‚ i could live and i could love. you think she loves you when she hands you the berries‚ when she puts them in her mouth.#then you both survive and you go back home and nothing is real anymore. you have nothing. no family. no friends. no love. just an empty#house. a drunk for a neighbor. the love of your life walking into somebody else's arms. you think‚ i survived the games. i could survive#this. and you also think‚ i should've bit down on those berries‚ should've felt the juice burst before i died.#and then the third quarter quell announcement rings in your ears and you think‚ she will live and i will die as i should have in the first#place. the girl you love kisses you on the beach and somewhere you heart stirs and your mind revolts and you savor every touch she has ever#given to you‚ in front of the cameras and off. because you are a tribute and you are always being watched and snow's presence looms and#you think‚ i know she cares. but you get taken. you get drugged. you get tortured‚ your mind altered. the girl is a mutt‚ a murderer. she's#everything you despise‚ your mind stirs. your heart revolts. you gain more awareness but cannot distinguish reality from fiction and you#have never known katniss' love. the war ends. you heal. you come home. you plant primrose for her. years down the line‚ you grow in love#more than you thought possible. but some days‚ you cannot tell fiction from reality so you ask the love of your life‚ you love me.#real or not real? and she says‚ real‚ and kisses you.#and you sigh and kiss her back and revel in this. a home. a life. a love.#lit#the hunger games#everlark#otp: real or not real?#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#text#tais toi lys#thgpost
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hansoeii · 5 months
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It's about who.
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celestialalpacaron · 1 month
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To the twenty people asking me in my dms and in my ask box:
Yes you may draw fanart, make a cosplay, write a fanfic, make fan music of my Overlord Husk AU!
Just tag me when you finish because I’m nosy LOL So sorry that I can’t get to replying to everyone but I hope this answers that question LOL
Anyways here’s a Overlord Husk AU crumb sketch from my pocket sketchbook while I make you all wait for the main comic. The one and only Husk the Casino King, with his beloved King/Queen Angel, and their darling little prince FatNuggets 🥰
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henreyettah · 1 year
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First tlt comic pls be kind to me
Edit: made a very minuscule change. Might take a trained eye to see it (hint)
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nerdypanda3126 · 1 year
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A kiss before a long time where they won't meet each other (Luka's Tour or Marinette's Fashion Week)
Hey, thank you so much for the ask! 😁 Sorry it took me a little longer to get to this one (and it does teeter on nsfw territory, fair warning) but I hope you like it!
Marinette groaned against the early morning light, not only because it meant it was morning and she hated mornings, but also because this particular morning meant it was the start of Luka's American tour and she wouldn't see him for six entire months. It'd be the longest they ever spent apart.
On the plus side, she did get to wake up to Luka sleeping beside her now, and with the morning light falling on the angle of his jaw and casting a shadow on his cheekbone he looked like a drawing torn out of one of her sketchbooks. She leaned into the light to block it from getting in his eyes and ran her fingers through his hair, trying to wake him up gently.
When he did open his eyes, he instantly smiled on seeing her and threw an arm around her to tug her down into a kiss.
God she was going to miss him.
She tangled her legs in his, wrapping herself around him as much as she could while she kissed him and kissed him and kissed him. On the bedside table, Luka's phone alarm went off and he reached over blindly, without breaking away from her, to silence it.
"Don't go," she said before she ducked in to press a line of kisses down the side of his neck, shifting so she was more on top of him. His answering chuckle and the way his hands tightened on her hips almost made her believe she was winning him over. When she nipped at his shoulder he let out a groan and bucked his hips up into hers, emphasizing what she was doing to him.
"Believe me, if I didn't have to make this flight, I'd stay here with you as long as you wanted me."
"Forever?" she breathed, and despite knowing he'd be shirtless on stage at some point, or maybe because of that, she locked her lips around a spot on his chest that wasn't covered by tattoos and made her own mark on him. Underneath her, Luka had stopped moving, and when she sat up to survey her work he was staring at her with a funny little smile on his face.
"Do you mean that?" he asked.
She traced the cherry blossom branch that webbed across one of his pecs as she blushed and realized what she'd admitted to.
"Well, yeah," she said, and met his eyes that were still trained on her in that softly intense way of his. "I know we haven't talked about… you know… marriage or anything like that but…"
He stopped her hand tracing on him to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "Funny you should mention that now," he said against her skin, then kissed her palm for good measure before he moved his hand to her hip to steady her as he twisted to fumble in the drawer of his nightstand. She thought he'd produce a foil packet, but instead he pulled out a small velvet box.
When he straightened, he watched her face carefully as he propped the box on his chest in front of her and opened it to reveal a modest silver ring with a brilliant blue sapphire.
For a moment all she could do was stare at it.
When she finally managed to look back at Luka, he looked like he was holding his breath, but he was still watching her and waiting for her response.
"...oh my God, Luka," came out of her before she could help it. He chuckled nervously.
"I was going to wait until after the tour," he said, sliding the ring out of its box to inspect it in the morning light. The sapphire reflected a glint of light over his face. He paused, and his eyes flicked up to hers. "But I guess this way you can think about it if you want? And you don't have to answer now, of course not, but just so you know—"
"Are you… proposing?" she asked with a small manic giggle bubbling out of her.
"Yeah, I guess I am." He smirked back. "Definitely wasn't my plan to do it this way, but—" He shrugged. "Just felt right."
"You're proposing," she repeated as a smile started stretching across her face. "This is you proposing."
His grin shifted until it was mischievous and with one smooth movement he flipped her until her back hit the bed and he was on top of her. The velvet box clattered to the floor.
"I could do something else, if you want."
He dipped his head to brush his nose against hers playfully before he leaned in to kiss her deeply. She wrapped her legs around his hips and cradled the sides of his face as she tried to communicate how much she loved him and didn't want him to go, especially now that they were—
Wait, she still had to say yes!
"Yes," she broke away to pant in his ear.
"Yes what, love?" he murmured. "Tell me what you want."
A laugh bubbled out of her as she kissed him again. When she pulled away, she kept his head in her hands and pressed her forehead against his.
"Yes, of course I'll keep you forever."
A bright grin split across his face and he opened his hand to reveal the ring he'd kept a hold of. "Then you'll be needing this," he said, and she gave him her hand to slip the ring on her finger. "And I'm going to be late to my flight."
He laced his fingers through hers tightly around her new ring and fell into kissing her, and neither of them could seem to stop smiling.
Send me a kiss!
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as-above-rp · 2 months
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💋 Roland or Kairi? Your pick! >:3c
"Goodness Butch, you really should be more careful!"
Kairi scolded him as she patched him up. Demon or not, he still wasn't immune to harm! Now he'd gone and gotten himself all scratched up after falling flat on his rear end out of a tree. 'Watch how fast I can climb this and grab us some apples!' Well, he'd gotten more than enough for the two of them to share, hitting just about every branch he could after a misstep.
She placed the last bandage on his cheek, and sighed with a look of satisfaction on her face. "There! Next time, maybe look where you're stepping before you leap, huh? Oh, I almost forgot--"
Kairi put her pointer and middle fingers together at her lips, and then placed them to the bandage she'd just placed on Butch's cheek.
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"A kiss to make it feel better and heal faster." ♡
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primordialscream · 2 years
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Mcwexler 6
send me a number and i'll write a mcwexler kiss!
6. ... on a falling tear
"It's not fair".
It is, he thinks, but doesn't say it out loud — what Kim's been doing is... brave, to say the least; masochistic, some might actually imply. But it's what she's committed to do, and Jimmy knows better than to try to persuade his beautifully obstinate, determined wife.
"Like... I... I know the sentence is right, it's not that...", she corrects herself, a shaking hand covering her mouth, "It's just hard... so so hard, sometimes". A single tear runs down her cheek. "Leaving you here... that's... that's all".
Jimmy and Kim have never needed many words — yes, they can talk for hours, and they often do, but it's when they're just basking in each other's presence, quietly existing next to each other, it's when silence reigns that their love is deeper, their mutual understanding unparalleled. So yeah, of course he gets it: not being close to her is painful, having to watch her go after every visit is torture. But it's better than the option, he thinks... and it is indeed better to listen to the clicking of her heels growing faint in the prison hall than to never lay eyes on her again.
"Hey", he whispers softly, and, turning around for just a moment to check if a guard was spying on their meeting, he gets closer to her, and places a single kiss where her tear was drying. "I am here now", he says.
She smiles sadly, but there is a light in her cerulean irises — something like bittersweet hope. "I know", she replies, and sinks her nose in the crook of his neck. She knows, he silently ponders, and, circling her waist to pull her close, he allows himself to feel peace in his heart.
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chaoticdumbassrogue · 2 years
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I guess what I ask is obvious 😆
20 & kanera, if you please...
Exhausted Parent kiss. let’s go.
Crying woke Hera up.
She shot up with adrenalin coursing though her veins because what if something happened, what if someone sliced the Ghost’s security, what if-?
Kanan kissed her shoulder and got out of bed. ”Go back to sleep, Starlight. I got him.”
Hera couldn’t go back to sleep, she needed to know their son was okay, that he was here.
“Trust me?” Kanan said.
“Always.”
“Good, now go back to bed.” Kanan left.
Hera didn’t want to go back to sleep. She wanted Jacen.
A minute passed and Kanan returned with Jacen in his arms. ”See, green bean? Mom’s okay.”
Kanan got back in bed and soon Jacen was asleep curled up in Hera’s arms.
“What did he dream about?” Hera whispered.
“That night. Doesn’t matter, you’re okay, he’s okay.” Kanan whispered back.
“Night Love.” Hera whispered.
“G’night.” Kanan whispered, kissing her forehead and wrapping an arm around his wife and son.
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