good boyish

There were big expectations for former One Direction de facto frontman Styles. Would he deliver on his rock ‘n’ roll potential, or fall flat? Ultimately, his first solo outing in ‘Sign of the Times’ was both a triumph and a relief. It turned out to be more Bowie than Jagger: an emotional glam rock anthem making good use of Styles’ boyish falsetto and stadium-sized ambition, while still offering something moody and new.
—  Best Songs of 2017 So Far - TIME Magazine

As a student, a young Ted Bundy worked as a busboy in various hotels and clubs. In the August of 1967, he became friends with fellow Seattle Yacht Club colleague, Beatrice Sloan, who fell for his “wicked sense of humour and boyish good looks.” The widow learnt of Ted’s love interest, Stephanie Brooks, and would loan him her expensive car to take her out on dates. Realising the finer things in life impressed Stephanie, Ted encouraged Mrs. Sloan to lend him expensive cutlery to use for meals with his girlfriend. 

Even though she knew that Ted would take girls up to the crows nest of the Seattle Yacht Club for sex, and even that he would steal money from drunk patrons, she couldn’t help but like the young man. She ended up giving Bundy a large loan of money, confident that he would pay her back. When he didn’t, Mrs. Sloan rang Ted’s mother who simply replied with: “You were a fool to lend him anything, you’ll never get it back.” and with that, Louise Bundy abruptly put the phone down.

Despite the betrayal, Beatrice Sloan remembered Ted Bundy as the goofy young college student that she knew and adored. “Once he arrived at the Yacht Club in a jet black wig, it had me in stitches. He just looked like a completely different person.” Unbeknown to her, the killer would go on to use that same black wig as a disguise during his time as a fugitive.

I hate when people try to pretend that all the Batboys look identical. I dislike it when comic book artist, purposefully or not, draw them all so it looks like they’re all actually Bruce’s kids. The best part of Batman is that they’re not related, they’re all a bunch of lost, weird kids who somehow have made an awkward family together. By drawing them the same look and body type, it negates the individual aspects of the boys and their highlighted talents.

Dick is smaller than Bruce in both height and weight. He’s not very buff, he’s incredibly lean and flexible, able to move in ways Batman can’t. His skin has a lightly dusty quality to it, a remnant of his Romani heritage he’s never quite forgotten. Most people mistake it for a perpetual tan, he doesn’t elaborate that he comes from mixed parents. He’s handsome in a very conventional way with his boyish good looks being appreciated by most everyone he meets. He’s not trying to impress anyone except he is so he takes good care of himself and covers any visible scars he has. His hair is floppy, a little long at his bangs and neck, thick dark black with a light wave to it. He has wide, smiling eyes of a deep midnight blue color. In the right light, they can be as black as night or shine like sapphires.

Jason is tall and as big as a house. He’s incredibly strong and durable and his body reflects that. He can’t move as well as Dick but he’s learned to use his large size to his advantage. His skin is medium white, covered in scars and calluses. If he’s out in the sun for too long, a splash of freckles appear across his nose and cheeks. He’s handsome in a dangerous way, like how a coiled snake carries it’s own elegance. If he put more effort into it, he could use his chiseled good looks but doesn’t bother with such things. His hair is thick but more wiry, it never lays perfectly on his head and is always sticking up somewhere. It curls slightly on the ends. His eyes are lidded and a confused blend of blue and green with some brown in there too, as if they couldn’t decide on a color. After his resurrection, he swears his eyes are much more green than before, it could just be his imagination.

Tim is short and not overly muscled, but he is proportional. He is the smallest of the adult boys and he knows it, instead of beefing himself up, he hones his muscles to be more accurate and graceful. He can move incredibly fast and twist his limbs in seemingly impossible manners. His skin in very pale, no matter how much time he spends in the sun, he burns rather easily and is constantly putting on sunscreen. His face is taunt and angled as he’s just finishing the last of his adolescence. He’ll eventually grow into it but he won’t have Dick’s attractive features. His face is always marred by dark circles with his brow perpetually wrinkled in thought. He keeps himself tidy and neat, not so much for himself but for appearances. He appears as nicely as is required, he doesn’t mind that people note how absolutely exhausted he looks. His hair is softer, more fine than his brothers’. It falls in soft waves when he goes too long without a cut. His narrow eyes are a steely blue-grey, strong and piercing.

Damian is still in the midst of childhood but eventually already his body is showing signs of being tall and well built. He won’t be as heavily built as his father, taking more after his mother’s lean muscled form. A nice balance between Dick and Bruce’s body type. His current size means he has a great number of advantages and disadvantages, he tries to fight like a bigger man until he is forced to adjust to his small physique. His skin is dark and tanned, a mark of his mother’s heritage, he very clearly stands out against the other bats. His face is still rounded with youth but already is beginning to hollow out from his exercises. He’ll grow into his father’s strong jawline and become effortlessly attractive, though like Jason, he pays no mind to it. His hair is short and cropped, thick and coarse so it look ill-kempt if he lets it grow too long. His eyes have an Asian fold to them, highlighting his foreign features. Deep forest green eyes, the exact color of Talia’s, gaze imperiously at the world.
The Best Songs of 2017 So Far
They all convey messages both timeless and topical
By Raisa Bruner

Harry Styles, “Sign of the Times”

There were big expectations for former One Direction de facto frontman Styles. Would he deliver on his rock ‘n’ roll potential, or fall flat? Ultimately, his first solo outing in “Sign of the Times” was both a triumph and a relief. It turned out to be more Bowie than Jagger: an emotional glam rock anthem making good use of Styles’ boyish falsetto and stadium-sized ambition, while still offering something moody and new.

PR relationship vs RL relationship pt2

Since I seemed to have piqued a few people’s attention about how a PR relationship works vs RL, let me try and explain how you can spot them.
For the purpose of my musings I will not mention any names, but those who have come to me privately ( I thank you I have enjoyed the throwing ideas around 😙) but of course you will know who I am talking about. Like @cb4tb and others who have been in fandoms before, where the object of fascination have been the leads and how those who hold the power ie money, sponsorship, investment, promotion and of course merchandising the product (product being the leads and movie or TV show tie in) play a very important part aka TPTB

Now naivety is something these ‘suits’ rely heavily on. They expect anyone who follows their product to be docile housewives (yes we women are the key marketing factor) as a male lead attracts our attention and therefore holds our interest in following the online trail of clickbait and become more involved in creating ‘fandoms/blogs etc’ which creates marketing, promotion, media interest etc. But unfortunately we are also very keen minded and not stupid, unless they are looking at the young adult market, where teens do get snapped into the category of ‘they will believe anything we tell them’
They have bots that follow certain feeds online. Bots that click onto a higher surge of chatter (mainly about the male lead) and gathers information about what is being said. Now, Agents and Publicists rely heavily on online traffic, especially when their ‘client’ has a pretty decent fan following. They want to ensure a good section of the media gets positive news about their client, especially one who has a social media relationship with the outside world.

Studios want good feedback, they want the show or movie they have invested in seen in a good light, a positive light, a money making light. When chatter centres around their leads 'off screen’ relationship vs their characters 'on screen’ relationship…investors get twitchy. Studios start panicking, agents and managers get called and their clients get hauled in for a…pep talk/dressing down. It’s not as far fetched as some people think, actors are commodity and when the investment looks unsteady or losing interest, that commodity gets looked at to see what can be done to change its fall of interest. Male leads, unless married or in a stable (non worrying relationship prior to the project) are to be seen as 'attainable’ as in a free agent. Healthy, single, good looking, picture perfect ideal man’s man of the world. They have to look like every female fantasy dream. Of course, if you are playing the most unattainable male in a movie or show (dream Ken) it creates more of an interest. Bad boy characters are more appealing, but romantic hunks with a slight dangerous side hold just as much interest.

Agents and Publicists have the most exhausting jobs of holding a particular image of their clients to sell to directors or studios, looking for a certain actor with a certain appeal. And most importantly, an actor with very little baggage. Online presence, good clean boyish image and of course appealing to both sexes as that creates a wider audience approval rate. Females still to this day struggle to find the equal balance in an all male world; attractive yes, very sexually appealing of course, but unfortunately they can sometimes come with or create baggage 'female falls for male lead’ never the other way around.

Which is why an off screen romance is always seen as the females fault. Which is also why studios put an absolute nada on it ever happening, to the best of their abilities. Creating PR romances are as old as Hollywood. Create an image, a believable relationship 'away’ from the promotion of the movie or TV show or simply…create an image that appeals to the right audience of fans. Old Hollywood hid so many real life relationships through PR promotions, you’d be surprised how many PR romances were used to cover up the truth or indeed in some circumstances scandals. Today is no different than yesterday (past tense) with the exception and headache that Social Media hides nothing. Too many are quick to turn on their computer and search. Too many can post up sightings or indeed snap photos and put them online, that can sometimes cause a studio more indigestion than a bad hamburger from the kraft cart.

The truth…PR relationships are easily spotted, because they are pushed too much onto the unsuspecting or naive fan, who unwittingly believe without question. Print articles will write up a story, without even interviewing the actor or check facts. I always say; don’t 'assume’ or 'speculate’. Don’t believe in 'sources close’ to or an 'eyewitness suggests’
These are word salad, gossip journalists will use when they don’t have a credible source as in went to the actors or his/her agency publicist for clarification. They write up their own narrative and, what is often the case, they read online blogs (hello🤗) and gleam information to add to their story. I chuckled when reading over the weekend a slip of the tongue - a Freudian a certain person made, over reading about themselves on Tumblr. Agency Publicists are those who do the data collection, they are the very people who tell the client what is being said about them the (online chatter) if the actor doesn’t go digging themselves that is.

It is easier to sell a 'PR’ relationship than to hide a 'RL’ one. Shackle your leads continuously and make them promote the opposite - they will, as others have done so before, break free enough to 'show’ the truth. You can only pretend in real life for so long - actors are humans too and the stress of having to live two lives can take its toll…even on the most seasoned of actors.

Quite aside from his boyish good looks, Eddie is by far one of the best actors I have ever seen. Why? Because every role he has played has been so different from the others & yet he is absolutely, 100% believable in every single one of them. You don’t watch him act & see Eddie - you see Newt, Marius, Stephen, Qwerty, & so on. His talent & skill are formidable!This is why he has won so many awards.. & no doubt there will be more in his future!

(Disclaimer: This is the first time I ever attempted a collage in photoshop, so please excuse the imperfections. Photoshop hates me! Also, I know not all of his many roles are represented, but I tried to choose my favourite from each year. And I couldn’t choose between Birdsong & Les Mis! I also just realised that I left out My Week With Marilyn… gah!!!)


This is technically for the @xfficchallenges dialogue prompt - but it’s under the required word count, and I can’t submit things from a sideblog. Whomp whomp. So it shall live here instead! 


“Dammit, Mulder, how did you know?”

“You’re easy. All you think about is cutting up dead people and rescuing yappy dogs. And pasta, maybe. And my boyish good looks.”

“I miss the poor little guy.”

“I know, sweetheart. C’mere.”

“Don’t let me catch you calling me that anywhere but this bed.”

“Oh, come on, I think Agent Sweetheart’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

“Ow - you’re on my hair - it’s your turn.”

“Hmm…. alright. Hit me.”

“Is it a person?”

“Not exactly.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Yes or no questions, only, Agent Sweetheart.”

“Hm… not exactly a person. A creature of some sorts?”

“No. Getting colder. It’s definitely human in nature.”

“Yes or no answers only, Mulder.”

“It’s kind of complicated to narrow down, now that I think of it. It doesn’t exactly have a physical form.”

“You’re supposed to choose something simple, like an actor or food or something.”

“Mmmm. Let’s start again. Okay, I’m ready.”

“Hey, no fair, what were you thinking of?”

“Alien Hand Syndrome.”

“Alien Hand Syndrome? Seriously? How was I supposed to guess that in 20 questions?”

“You’re a smart cookie, you’da gotten it.”

“I don’t even know what Alien Hand Syndrome is.

“It’s a condition in which a person has little to no control over their limbs - extremities act seemingly of their own accord, grasping, feeling, touching things without the brain giving it permission to…”

“Are you hiding a slideshow somewhere? Is it rigged to play on your ceiling?”

“Mmmm, I’m hiding something, alright. Oo-


Agent Sweetheart, you’re far bolder than that lovely little name of yours would suggest.

Must be Alien Hand Syndrome.

anonymous asked:

Shape of you by Ed sheeran w/ steve?:)

Girl, you know I want your love
Your love was handmade for somebody like me
Come on now, follow my lead
I may be crazy, don’t mind me
Say, boy, let’s not talk too much
Grab on my waist and put that body on me
Come on now, follow my lead
Come, come on now, follow my lead

A song you were entirely unfamiliar with boomed through the speakers, its rhythmic bass reverberating in the center of your chest as you struggled through the throng of dancing bodies. The tower was overflowing with too many guests for your taste, dancing provocatively and speaking merrily whilst consuming copious amounts of alcohol. The intermingled stench of stale alcohol and sweat paired with the music overwhelmed your senses as you trudged on. Natasha had coaxed you into attending another one of Tony’s infamous parties with her insufferable persistence, reasoning it would be a great time. You had reluctantly agreed, despite wanting nothing more than to be snuggled in bed with your cat, binge watching Criminal Minds after your latest mission. 

Relief washed over you as you finally managed to move past the crowd, catching sight of the bar where you hoped to find some reprieve. You approached and waved down the bartender a little too eagerly, ordering the strongest drink you could muster - a double shot of Patron. You nodded appreciatively as the bartender slid the glass across the wooden bar toward you, gripping it tightly and pressing its cool rim to your lips. You tossed the glass back expertly, gulping down the entirety of the bitter liquid in one swift movement. You hissed as a burning sensation ripped through your throat, half-slamming the empty glass against the bar as you straightened out. 

“I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or concerned.” Steve remarked, his face-splitting grin obvious in the way he spoke. 

“Impressed.” You reassured, turning to meet his blue-green gaze. “Definitely impressed, Cap.” You couldn’t help the suggestive smirk that tugged across your lips as you silently signaled the bartender for another round. 

“At this rate, I’ll be carrying you back to your quarters, Agent.” Steve’s voice fell effortlessly into his Captain’s tone as he crossed his arms knowingly over his ridiculously muscular chest. His biceps bulged deliciously at the action, accentuating his unreal shoulder to waist ratio. You blinked rapidly, turning away from his frame as the bartender slid over two, double shots in your direction.

“If that was supposed to deter me from drinking,” you began, motioning for Steve to join you, “I’m sad to say it’s only encouraged me further, Captain.” You teased, as seductively as you could manage. Steve’s lips matched your mischievous smirk as each of you took your respective shots, tossing them back with ease. 

It was no secret that nearly every agent under his command, both male and female, had the hots for Captain Rogers. It was nearly impossible not to - an enviable physique paired with boyish good looks and old-fashioned charm. Steve however, ever the professional, largely ignored all the affections he received. Yet, something was different between the pair of you. Different enough for you to take notice, but not too different as to alert the others - a flirtatious comment here, a playful nudge there. Over your time under his command, you’d discovered the super soldier was particularly skilled at straddling the line of professionalism loosely. 

“My apologies, M’am.” Steve playfully apologized, raising his hands innocently in the air. “It wasn’t my intention to encourage debauchery.” You quirked a brow as you sucked the lime that accompanied the tequila, your cheeks hallowing around the sour slice. Steve’s tongue jutted out to lick his plump lips at the sight, gaze falling to your lips before reconnecting with your eyes. 

“I quite enjoy debauchery.” You shrugged tossing aside the lime and reaching out to take his hand. “But let’s not talk too much about that.” You added, leading him away from the bar and toward the dancing, grinding bodies. 

“And what do you suggest instead?” Steve leaned forward with the inquiry, his lips by your ear. His hot breath fanned over the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders, desire pooling from your chest down to your toes. You continued forward with Steve following close behind until you reached the center of the crowd. 

“Grab my waist,” you instructed carefully, turning to face Steve, “and follow my lead.” You attributed your sudden bout of courage to a combination of the tequila pumping through your veins and the anonymity of being concealed amongst strangers. 

Steve’s gaze darkened noticeably as his hands down the curvature of your body and toward your waist. He gripped you gently and tugged your gingerly closer as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His bottom lip caught between his teeth as he looked down at you, your eyes fluttering closed as you let the music take over. Your hips swayed and twirled in a tantalizing dance, entrancing Steve as you matched the sensual rhythm of the bass. You moved closer with each movement until you were practically pressed against Steve’s taut, muscular torso. 

“Dancing sure has changed…” Steve muttered breathlessly, his grip tightening around your waist. You chuckled at the proclamation, looking up at him through your lashes.

“You have no idea.” You tempted, pulling teasingly away from Steve’s grip. “Trust me.”

Your movements were fluid and rhythmic as you twirled around, pressing your backside flush against Steve’s torso. He grunted in response, his hands frantically finding your waist once more. His arms wrapped desperately around your middle as you begin moving your hips hypnotically against his, your ass rubbing deliciously against his crotch with each sway. You arched your back against his chest, tossing an arm back and craning your neck to look up at him. 

Steve immediately took advantage of the position, pressing his lips against yours as his hips move hungrily against yours. The intimacy of the dance deepens with the embrace, your tongues moving in sync with your hips. You break the embrace and Steve protests with a small whimper, watching with wide eyes as you begin dragging yourself downward. 

“Christ, Y/N.” Steve curses as you fold neatly in half before him, intensifying the push of your ass against him. His hands move to the small of your back, simultaneously pushing and pulling you into his already stiffening erection. You flip your hair as you begin to straighten back up, leaning back against his shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me, doll.” Steve adds as his lips fall to the crook of your neck, kissing and nipped at the delicate skin.

“I’m in love with the shape of you.” You gasp, half-moaning at the sensation of his lips against your scorching skin. 

“Bedroom?” Steve is just as breathless as you, his member fully erect against you now. 


Gajevy Week Entry #1

Prompt Day 1: Sexting/Selfie


I hope you enjoy. This is the first smut I’ve ever written so I really hope it goes and you all like it! Yay for Gajevy!

It started out like any other day, except that for some reason, Levy was feeling really good about herself from the moment she woke up.

That should have been a sign.

It wasn’t that she didn’t deserve to feel good about herself; she enjoyed and reveled in the feeling. It was just that she got a little overconfident.

It was one of those days that her hair did everything right. Her skin was clear and smooth. Her smile wasn’t forced. Her eyes sparkled. She felt pretty. She was pretty. It was such a freeing feeling, and it didn’t come along all that often.

So of course, she had to take a selfie.

And that’s when things got a little out of hand.

The clothes started to come off as she felt a little bit more daring. And in front of her mirror, she posed for the camera in her lacy underwear (that she never wore) and started feeling really sexy.

One photo in particular – it wasn’t in front of the mirror, it was taken from above while she looked flirtatiously up at the camera, biting her lip, and had her free hand running down her bare stomach – was her favorite. She actually managed to look sexy. And that was totally not her style. Her breasts were small, but this bra pushed them up and gave her some cleavage, and that totally added to the appeal of the image.

And then it all went horribly wrong.

She had somehow managed to send the photo to a random number and he had texted her back.

Eh? Who is this?

Levy’s face was red with embarrassment, and then it was flushed with indignation at the next message that came through.

Are you one of them spam hookers? Cos if you are quit texting me.


Levy replied instantly before she realized what she had done. She covered her mouth with her hand and groaned, sitting on her bed in her underwear. She had to find someway to diffuse the situation.

I didn’t mean to send the photo. It was an accident.

Some accident. Whatcha doin’ taking photos like that for if you ain’t a hooker?

Levy stared at the screen. Who the hell was this person?

I just felt like it, okay? And where do you get off accusing me of being a hooker? People take photos like this all the time!

Gihi. Do they now? Do you do this often?

Gihi? Was that this person’s laugh? Levy raised her eyebrow, she didn’t understand why she kept texting back.

NO I do not do this EVER.

Then why ya doing it now? I’m not complaining, by the way.

I just told you that, didn’t I? I felt like it.

Levy bit her lip. He wasn’t complaining? Did that mean he liked the photo? She lay back on her bed and hugged her pillow to her chest, staring at her screen. She was talking to a perfect stranger. Why did it feel so… exciting?

That ain’t a real answer.

Levy frowned. Should she? She could… well, she kind of knew how to flirt. She read enough books to know how to flirt. But actually flirting was a whole different thing. But this was a stranger. She could just say whatever she wanted and no one would be the wiser. A sudden thought hit her.

I’ll tell you if you swear you’ll never show anyone that photo, or post it online, or anything that means that anyone other than you EVER sees it. I will hunt you down.

Gihihihi. Trust me, I ain’t sharing this.

A strange sense of relief flooded through her. She didn’t know why, it wasn’t like she could trust him. Was it even a guy?

Are you a guy?

You kidding me? Course I am, Shrimp.


Ya look short in ya picture.

Levy frowned again. How could he tell she was short in that picture? And Shrimp? Really? What kind of a nickname is that? Strangely, she kind of liked it.

Well, ya gonna answer me?

I felt good today. So, yeah… I took some photos.

You took more? Can I see?

Levy bit her lip. She could feel a strange desire building inside of her. Should she?

Um, maybe. First I want to know about you.

She waited for him to respond. It felt like forever, but it was quick. Less than a minute.

Whatcha wanna know?

Levy thought. His name? What he looked like? Yeah, all of those things. But they seemed so mundane.

Um. Who are you?

Gihi. Gajeel.

“Gajeel,” Levy mused. It was an interesting name.

How old are you?

17. Why do ya wanna know this stuff?

I don’t know. Just makes me feel better that you’re not a complete stranger I guess. You’ve seen me basically naked. It’s weird.

Gihi. It ain’t weird to me. The photo’s fucking hot.

Levy stared at the screen. He was so crude, but it excited her. He thought she was hot?

You think I’m hot?


Levy felt dejected.

“Wow,” she whispered. She’d never felt so deflated before. He phone buzzed again.

The photo’s hot. Your more like a fairy. Real cute.

Levy giggled, feeling lighter. He didn’t think she was ugly, he thought she looked like a fairy. It made her smile and she felt that desire welling inside her again. She scrolled through her pictures, thinking that after that comment, he deserved another one. She picked one where she was looking away from the camera. It was just photo of just above her breasts, but she wasn’t wearing a shirt or a bra, and the top of her breasts were slightly outline (because she was pushing them up with her hand). The photo was kind of… alluring, she thought. You could only see her profile, but her neck looks long and her jawline was smooth.

You there?

He had texted her while she was looking through the photos. She grinned, nervous butterflies were flying in her stomach. She sent the picture to him.

One minute went by.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

The nervous butterflies were like a raging storm inside of her now and the nervous anticipation was being replaced by panic. Why wasn’t her texting her back? Did he decide to send the pictures to his friends? The uncertainty was killing her, but she resisted texting him.

She put her face in her pillow. Her phone buzzed and she raised her head so quickly she thought she might have gotten whiplash. It was from him. She opened the message and then dropped her phone.

He had sent her a picture.

And by god, he was magnificent.

Her hand somehow found it’s way to her panties, she rested her fingers on them, not daring to touch herself quite yet but finding it difficult not to. It wasn’t something she’d ever really done before but seeing that picture of him was making her feel things that she hadn’t felt before.

He’d taken the picture from his waist, so it showed his entire abdomen and his face. He had a perfect V coming up from his hips that immediately made Levy want to touch him. He had an eight-pack. It wasn’t a six-pack, it was a damn eight-pack. And his nipples were pierced. Levy’s breath was a sharp intake of absolute and unexpected excitement. His arms and chest were well defined and his jawline was strong. 

Levy suddenly felt inadequate, her petite, soft figure was so unassuming and so impressive compared to his. But the body, that wasn’t the only part of him that she admired. It was his face.

It wasn’t the pretty-boy face that she was used to seeing at school, or the face with boyish good looks. It was a masculine face with a roughness to it that she didn’t know until now that she was attracted to. He had an eyebrow piercing to go with his nipple piercings and dark eyes shadowed by black eyebrows that matched his black hair. Levy could tell that it was long, it was tied back. But she couldn’t see that much of it. But she wanted to.

A buzz alerted her to another message.

Uh, you there?

Levy realized that she had been staring at the picture for five minutes.



Levy was desperately trying to think of something to say other than “please have my babies.” It was difficult. Just flirt, Levy. Flirt.

What are you trying to do, sending me that? Seduce me?

Levy sighed. She was not good at this.

Gihihi. Is it working?

Levy’s fingers began to tickle her womanhood through her panties.


Was all that she replied. She could feel her heart rate increasing, and her breathing come faster. A pulsing began between her legs. Oh yes, it was working.

Are you playing with yaself? I am.

Levy’s breathing hitched. That was so forward. It made her more excited as she read it over. He was playing with himself, because of her photos.

Yes, I am. 

Levy brushed her fingers up her stomach and slipped them into the hem of her panties, running them down until she was cupping herself.

Tell me what your doing.

Levy blushed slightly as she typed. This wasn’t what she was used to, it wasn’t something she’d ever done before, but she was enjoying. She felt dirty in the best possible way; it was just turning her on more.

My fingers are sliding up and down, playing with my clitoris, while I’m thinking about that photo you sent.

Are you wet?

I’m wet.

Ah, jeez. This is turning me on so fucking much.

Levy closed her eyes for a moment and imagined that Gajeel was with her. She slipped her panties off and had an idea. She grinned.

I just took my panties off.

Ah, fuck.

Somehow, that word just made her feel more provocative.

What are you doing? What are you thinking?

She wanted to know what he was doing. What he was imagining.

I’m thinking about having you here. Your little hands on my cock, me sucking your nipples. 

Levy swallowed as she imagined it. Oh god, her fingers moved faster, building up more tension inside of her.

Oh, god. She texted him. My lips wrapped around your cock, sucking and licking.

Levy had never used the word ‘cock’ before. It made her feel a little embarrassed typing it, but those feelings were overcome with desire and need.

Levy moaned and she slipped two fingers inside of herself, thrusting in and out.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

And then he sent her another picture. It was his hand, wrapped around his dick in all its solid glory. Levy breathed out and her eyes widened when she saw it. She had never been with a guy before, she’d never had sex, never seen a penis in person. But that, that took her breath away and made her ache. It was big, that much she knew. His hand was at its base, but there was still a third of it showing. She could see the wetness at its tip.

Oh, god, Gajeel.

Levy could barely type, she was consumed with a passion and need she’d never know before. She wanted him. This stranger, she wanted to feel him inside of her. Her fingers were thrusting but she knew it wasn’t what she wanted, but it would do.

You’re glorious. I want you inside me.

Fuck, your gonna make me cum.

Levy’s thumb worked her clit as she thrust her fingers inside again and again, she moaned and dropped her phone. Gajeel filled her mind. His strong arms around her, his lips passionately kissing her neck, her stomach and down there. His cock, thrusting itself inside of her.

“Gajeel!” She cried.

Her orgasm came on like fireworks exploding inside of her. She tingled, her legs clenched, her back arched upwards, her toes curled and she panted, moaning his name as the ecstasy spread throughout her body. She laughed when it was over, panting and sweating.

Her phone buzzed.

She opened the message from Gajeel.

Fuck. That was… something else.

Yes, it was.

I should ask your name.

Levy smiled. She caught sight of herself in the screens reflection, her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were shining. She captured the moment with another photo and sent it to him.

I’m Levy.

He sent her a picture similar to hers; he had a devilish grin on his face. They were both satisfied.

We should do this again sometime.

Levy’s toes curled in anticipation. Oh yes, she was definitely going to do this again. She guessed that things getting a little out of hand weren’t always a bad thing.



“when hope is gone” - 1/3(?)

It’s my party, I’ll start another AU if I want to.

fandom: Star Wars

characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, Kaytoo, Saw Gerrera, Chirrut Îmwe, Baze Malbus, Bodhi Rook; Jyn/Cassian

length: 1100 words (currently)

stuff that happens: 

Jyn didn’t think much about Cassian after he left her. Yes, she had a few bad moments at first, felt shattered for a good long day, but she quickly understood what he was: not the selfless, talented, purposeful man she’d thought, whose unyielding conviction made it all seem worthwhile, but passive, blindly obedient, as pliant and ruthless a tool as any stormtrooper. So she forgot about him, or something like forgetting.

(Partisan!Jyn + fusion with Persuasion, written to the Chaucer meme [seven sections of seven sentences each] to keep it under control. Inspired by this Persuasion AU, which I love; it got me thinking about how the inverse, with Jyn as Wentworth and Cassian as Anne, would work and… this happened.)

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Mistletoe❤ (Reader x Chocobros) [Office AU]

A/N: A gift from me to you.


Originally posted by ulzzang011

You sighed as your last day in the office before the holiday break finally ended. Once again, you were pretty much the last person to leave. You hadn’t meant to stay so long, but you didn’t want to leave any work half done; it was likely to stay on your mind until you got back and your brain needed a break.

Patiently, you waited for the elevator doors to open, though when they did you were surprised to find a familiar person inside. “I thought you would have gone home already—” You hit the button for your floor as your gaze drifted up. You took note of the decorations in the lift, but your eyes widened as you spotted something just above you. “Oh! Uh—” You flushed. “Who put mistletoe in here?!”

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Crush || Hongseok

Group: Pentagon

Member: Hongseok

Genre: angst

Word count: 1.7 K

Request:Can I request Pentagon’s Hongseok as your brother’s best friend and the reader being infatuated with him? I prefer it to be angsty and the ending is up to you!

A/n: This was a wild ride anon. Sorry for being late I wrote my heart out though even though I’m not the best at angst. -admin Tae

Originally posted by edawnnie

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anonymous asked:

Why about someone finding a "baby" picture of Anakin and comparing him and Luke? "This is Vader at 22 and this is The little prince!"

“Huh…I, ah…I guess he got his height from his mother, then.”

“What, lemme see?”

(Luke knows there’s trouble when he hears Artoo being smug and the Rebels chattering about something. Suspicions are confirmed when Rida calls, “Guess we know where you got your boyish good looks from, boss! Who’d have thought?”)

The Black Pearl Ring 2/5

Inspired by the Donovan family books by Elizabeth Lowell. An Olicity AU where Felicity comes in possession of the much sought after Donovan Black Pearl.

I’d like to say a very special thank you to @captainolicitysbedroom for creating such beautiful artwork and to @almondblossomme for all her support being willing to proof read. I’m very, very grateful!

Also available on AO3

                              Chapter 2: Let My Love Open the Door

Star City

Felicity had spent her night tossing and turning so she was actually glad when her alarm went off at 6am. She hopped out of bed ready to start her day – just as soon as she ingested enough coffee to feed an elephant. It was going to be a many coffee kind of day but she had survived those before.

She took a hot shower as the Keurig starting making her first cup. She grabbed the coffee cup from the machine and brought it into the bathroom with her as she got ready for the day, drying her blonde hair, pulling it back into the sensible pony tail she loved. She quickly chugged the end of her first cup of coffee and brushed her teeth. Now for lipstick, she picked a bright pink to put on. To make your lips pop, she could hear her mother’s voice in her head.

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