your hand gives me feels

Baze “Siege weapon” Malbus.

Bet Baze looked fecking terrifying as a guardian even when he didn’t want to.

Want to try a  few more versions of this- front and side- to try and get a better idea of him wearing the Kasaya cloak wrapped over the shoulder and across the chest then tucked under bandolier to the side and back of the waist. Older Baze would have stuck as much arsenal under that as poss- but in this case it’s more for ease of movement/ covering sillouette/formal/ covers the chest area. He can still hide stuff under there though.

Although he has got his lightbow, as it’s a nigh on wookie sized bowcaster, he probably doesn’t often have it in official capacity- he’s the only one who can use it anyway, but the recoil necesssitated a built in shoulder guard, but he can still cock it one handed if he feels like it.

“Chirrut- give me your charges. (I’ve run out)”

“You’re not supposed to use ONE PER SHOT. It’s NOT A SIEGE WEAPON.”

“Why’s everyone leaving?”

“Guardian Malbus just got called in.”



“Is he still supercharging his lightbow.”

“He says he’s sorted out the problem with kickback and it’s more accurate?.”

“Yeeeahhh. So he can HIT AND DESTROY something the size of the temple gates- THAT’S also broadly “accurate”. Lets clear the civillians.”

(All HC)

viii. “what the fuck happened to your face?”

This has been sitting in my ask for a few weeks. I apologize for not being able to write this anytime sooner but you know, college sucks. Please, don’t feel like I’m ignoring you, I promise I’ll be finishing everything I’ve got left. Anyway, here it is. I hope you like it. Please let me know if you don’t like it, or if you think the smut part wasn’t right. I don’t usually write smut that’s “explicit” but I want to give it a try, and I need to know what direction to take.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” you asked, bewildered.

“Not now, love.” Harry warned you, avoiding your eyes for all he’s worth. Even if he had succeeded, you had already seen it. His face was a mess, his hair was disheveled and he had an horrendous purple eye.

“’Not now’? The fuck is wrong with you! You’re not pulling that ‘not now, love’ when your face looks like shit!”

“Charming to the last, aren’t you?” He asked, raising his bloody eyebrow with a hint of annoyance in his gaze, only to be replaced by a look of pain.

“At least let me help you, you ass.”

Keep reading

Don't be an art thief please!

Hi guys! Recently I found a few Instagram accounts reposting my fanart from here (tumblr) without my permission, and if you guys know/see any Tumblr users that are obviously stealing (reposting/editing) my stuff please let me know, shoot me a message, because I can’t wait to block them forever!

My Valentine

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 2,175

Summary: The reader and Chris have been friends for a long time. Chris gets invited on a triple date for Valentine’s Day and without wanting to be a third wheel, he tries to convince the reader to come with him even though she hates the holiday. 

Author’s Note: I wanna thank @mrs-squirrel-chester for being an awesome beta. I am absolutely the worst person ever! I meant to put this out last week (i.e. Valentine’s Day) but due to writer’s block I wasn’t able to do so. Call me Jean-Ralphio cause I’m

Originally posted by boom-shwa-tee-oosh

Warnings: None just tons and tons of Fluff… Oh and Chris being a total meatball (Should that be a warning?)

Tagging: @ariallane @heather-lynn @always-an-evans-addict @mrs-squirrel-chester @bionic-buckyb @sebbytrash @marvel-ash anyone who wants in or out of the taglist please let me know! 

Gifs not mine

You heard your phone go off in your purse as you opened the trunk to your car. Setting it inside your trunk, you dug through your purse, finally pulling out your phone and saw Chris’ name flash on your screen.

“Hey Chris.” You answered, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder, grabbing your gym bag.

“Y/N!” He shouted. “I’ve called you three times already! What were you doing?” He sounded urgent.

“I was driving Christopher.” You deadpanned, swinging your gym bag over your other shoulder and slammed trunk shut. “Everything okay?” You asked.

“Everything’s fine.” He answered, “Are you home?”

“Yes Chris I just got home why?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“Oh good, cause I’m inside waiting for you.” He said.

“What?” You looked up and saw Chris at your window and waving at you with a huge grin on his face.

“Motherfu-” You quickly hang up and jog over to your front door.

Keep reading

Lucifer sings this to Chloe.

“Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling

Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand, do you feel the same?

Am I only dreaming, is this burning an eternal flame?

I believe it’s meant to be, darling

I watch you when you are sleeping

You belong with me, do you feel the same?

Am I only dreaming or is this burning an eternal flame?

Say my name, sun shines through the rain

A whole life so lonely

And then you come and ease the pain

I don’t want to lose this feeling, oh 

Say my name, sun shines through the rain

A whole life so lonely

And then you come and ease the pain

I don’t want to lose this feeling, oh

Close your eyes, give me your hand

Do you feel my heart beating?

Do you understand, do you feel the same?

Am I only dreaming or is this burning an eternal flame?

Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling

Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand, do you feel the same?

Am I only dreaming, is this burning an eternal flame?

Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling

Do you feel my heart beating?

Do you understand, do you feel the same?

Am I only dreaming, an eternal flame?

Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling

Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand, do you feel the same?

Am I only dreaming, is this burning an eternal flame?

Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling.”

Originally posted by futurehistorienne


The Joker x Reader- “How To Be a Dad”

The Joker has never been around a pregnant woman before. Actually… just once, during a robbery and the poor thing fainted even if he didn’t do anything to her. You thought J would be bored with the whole process, but all he says is that he wants to see her NOW. Well, it doesn’t really work that way and your boyfriend is not famous for his patience.

– At night, J likes to rest his head on your legs, face turned towards your huge bump.

“When is she coming out? I wanna see her!”

“Soon J, be patient.”

Joker and patience don’t go in the same sentence.

“But I wanna see her now, I’ve been waiting forever!”

“It’s happening soon enough.”

“Hey, Doll, do you think she already looks like me?”

“No, not yet.”

He pouts.

“Do you think she knows I’m her dad?”

“No, not yet J.”

He frowns.

“Do you think she has green hair?” he snickers, walking his fingers on your tummy.

“No, baby, no toxic green locks.”

“Do you think she has bright red hair?”

“No, I dye mine; if anything, Emma will have dark blonde hair, my natural color. Or maybe she’ll have your natural color. Is it brown or…?”
“No, it’s a dark blonde too,” the Joker blurs out and after a few seconds he gasps. “Did you just…did you just make me tell you another one of my secrets, woman?!”

“Nooo, I didn’t make you do anything,” you smirk, trying not to laugh, all innocent and sweet.

“You’re sneaky, Y/N, stop it!” he pinches your thigh, aggravated you took advantage of him being smitten with the unborn baby. “Oh my God!” J shouts when he notices the small hand moving right under your skin. “There she is!” he excitedly touches her, sensing the shift. “This is so cool- cooler than being chased by Batsy,” he admits, huffing. “Jerk!” The Joker mutters, then pays attention to you again. “Does it hurt when she does that?” (he asks this very often and the reply never changes).

“No, handsome, she’s just wiggling around. Anxious to get out, I’m sure. Have you ever been around a pregnant person before?”

“Once, during a bank robbery. I decided to do it in plain daylight and this lady was there. She fainted.”

“What did you do to her?” You try to reach him but can’t bend at all.

 “Nothing, she just passed out when me and my men took over the place. There she is again!” he grins and one of Emma’s tiny feet stretches out pretty high this time. “Do you know what this reminds me of?”

“No, but please do share,” you sigh, curious to hear about another crazy idea for sure.

Aliens movie! You think she might just burst out of there?” J pokes your bump, then caresses the skin to feel his daughter once more.

You start giggling, amused:

“I think we’re good on that one. She’ll come out the right way, no worries.”

“Oh, I forgot I got her something,” The Joker suddenly realizes and jumps out of bed.

“More stuff?!” you tease since the unborn has a room full of baby things.

“This is better than any of them,” J fumbles inside the closet and finally brings over the shiny diamond tiara he places on top of your tummy. “Here, a Princess should have one,” he excitedly brags and goes back to his favorite spot on your legs.

“Where did you get it from?!”
“Gotham’s Bank vault,” he winks, proud of his achievement and scoots closer so you can touch him since you look so pathetic when you keep on trying and fail.

“And I was thinking you bought it, baby,” you wrap a strand of his hair around your chubbier than usual finger.

“I did, just forgot to pay,” he mocks, making sure the sparkly crown stays in place.

And you both have a good laugh about it - your boyfriend can be so funny sometimes, even if he thinks he’s funny all the time.

The Joker closes his blue eyes and you brush your index finger against his long eyelashes.

“What is it, Pumpkin?” he yawns, opening one eye.

“Could you please bring me a sliced cucumber and chocolate syrup?”

“Yuck, I don’t know how you can eat that disgusting combo,” he shivers, grossed out by your choices in food lately.

“I’m craving a bunch of weird snacks, I can’t help it. Remember last month when all I wanted was apple sauce with radishes and cinnamon powder?”

“Ewww, yes. I guess this is an upgrade, Doll. Can’t you go in the kitchen and make your own plate? I’m tired.”

You point out towards your diamond decorated bump:

“I can’t move or this will fall.”

“Uggghhh, fine, I’ll be back,” J agrees, dragging his feet on the carpet because he’s not in the mood for too much except staring at your belly to see Emma move.

– He feels nauseated watching you munch on your repulsive late dinner. J would love to fall asleep but the damn cucumbers are so crunchy when you bite out of them.

“Are you done, Y/N? I wanna sleep.”

“Done, the last one!” you shove the slice in your mouth and lean over him to place the bowl on the nightstand.

“Jesus, Princess, how much do you weight??!!” J puffs under your heaviness, over exaggerating, of course.

You’re a delicate little flower that doesn’t need negative comments.

“Whatever!!!! This is your fault!” you give him a sassy gaze, pinning him under you for a few more seconds this way he learns his lesson.

He just can’t talk like that to delicate little flowers.

“ I didn’t do anything,” The Joker pulls you in for a kiss, purring. “Just had some fun with my girl, the rest… you’re responsible for!” he taunts, delighted you can’t do too much but squirm on top of him.

“You’re so…so…so,” you stutter, outraged, not being able to find the word.

“What is this?!” he puckers his lips, intrigued when he feels it.

You try to look down in between the two of you without success.

“I think my water broke!”

– “Pumpkin, are you gonna die?” he growls, checking you out worried sick; he’s been asking this every 5 minutes in the last six hours.

“For God’s sake, I’m not dying !! I’m giving birth!”, you shriek through your clenched teeth, breathing in and out in a frenzy.

“Are you sure?” J triple checks furthermore.

“Yes, I’m sure,” and you squeeze his hand so hard you hear a few bones crack.

“Auuuchhh, don’t break my hand!” he whines, taking a step back.

“Take your rings off!” you urge him, panting. “It makes it worse.”

He hurries and does it, dumping them in a cup on the table.

“Give me your hand!” you shout, feeling the strong contractions hit your body with paralyzing strength.

“Ummm, don’t break it, OK?” he hesitantly gives it back, hoping for the best.

Who knew such a delicate little flower as yourself can have so much vigor?!

“Where’s my daughter?” The Joker stretches his free arm to lift the sheet covering you from the waist down and regrets it in the next moment. He’s seen a lot of messed up shit in his life but this takes the cake.

“Pretty soon, Mister J,” the doctor replies, wishing the Clown Prince of Crime would just behave and wait.

“ Kitten,” J gulps, even more tense. “Are you sure you’re not dying?”

“I’m sure, stop asking!” you groan, resting your head on the pillow. “This is your fault!” you blame J again, annoyed and in so much pain you are seeing red spots.

Your boyfriend completely ignores your outburst, tilting over to peck your forehead.

“Hurry up, Princess, I need to see her!”

“So sorry about the inconvenience!!!” you scream, muttering something else under your labored breathing. It wasn’t a nice statement.

“Yuck, Doll, you’re all sweaty!” he complains, wiping his lips.

Huh??! ! Delicate little flowers don’t get sweaty!!!!

“J, you’re not helping!” you state the obvious and push again, exhausted and anxious in the same time. You crush his fingers so hard J thinks his arm fell off. He wants to object but the doctor finally articulates the words he’s been craving to hear for so long:

“Alright, here she is!” and the crying starts after a few seconds.

– First time The Joker held Emma, he forgot to breathe.

“She looks like a little doll,” he whispers, mesmerized on how cute she is. “How long do you think it will take before she resembles us?”

“A while,” you take a deep breath and blink slowly, so jaded you can hardly speak.

The little one fusses and he almost panics, not knowing what to do but she calms down when he gently rocks her.

“I think…I think she smiled at me!” J exclaims. You doubt it, but can’t spoil his joy:

Delicate little flowers don’t do such things to a man they love.

“That’s because she knows you’re her dad,” you utter, making it even better for the new father.

“Really?” he kisses her cheek with an almost childish curiosity. ”You think so Y/N?”

“Yeah, now that you have her in your arms, she knows,” you rub your face, fighting to stay awake.

The Joker feels so many emotions at once and has no clue how to handle any of them. He’s not the one to analyze himself but damn, it’s just so overwhelming his chest hurts. Can’t be a heart attack, he’s too young.  

He paces alongside your bed, careful not to wake the newborn.

“Hey, Pumpkin, when can we have sex again?” he bites his lip, eager to go back to fun stuff.

“It’s gonna be a while, baby. Not too much, ok?” you quickly add when notice how disappointed he is. “ I just basically squeezed a watermelon through a prune so give me some credit. Be patient, please.”

Joker and patience don’t go in the same sentence.

“Just hurry up and get better, I have needs!” he sulks but winks when he realizes you don’t look too excited at his yapping.

Ahhh, such a charmer.

But you can’t rush this process on delicate little flowers.

Even the King of Gotham needs to understand it.


Letters II

for the first chapter- read here

@immobulusmalfoy @philthepegacorn @perksofeatingbacon

It all starts when she first sees him alone. No friends. No enemies. Just him, a sketchbook, and two birds in a nest. Its the loneliness that strikes her, not like lightning, but a match. She doesn’t swoon, or fawn, or even crack a grin. Its a tiny flame of interest permeating in her thoughts. When she sees him shove a first year in the halls, or snicker idly with bad influences, her thoughts will flash to the simple boy on the edge of the forest, humming Chopin and drawing the trees.
Her friends all know she’s taken a liking to him. Specifically, Luna. Her ‘inner eye’ can sense the romance brewing. Or, perhaps, she simply spoke with Theo. Its no lie that Theodore fancies Lovegood. If you look closely, you’ll see them wade in the lake just past midnight.
Its a Friday night when Blaise and Draco finally manage to decode their notes. They trudge into the dormitory, moods covered in molasses. He has a faint smile of relief, knowing the weekend will be no trouble at all, until something odd catches his eye. It isn’t a mess. There isn’t anything. His desk is empty.
A bubbling feeling of lava boils inside his gut, threatening to regurgitate his morning tea all over the new sheets. He spins around, platinum eyes trained onto Theo’s sleeping back.
‘YOU RAT!’ With the strength of a magnet, he hurls Theodore out of his sleep, tossing him onto the messy, boy’s dormitory carpet. ‘Draco, what-’ ‘MY LETTERS, NOTT!’ Blaise looks over, unamused. ‘Look, I-I don’t, I, we-your, Macbeth, he-’
Cool. Calm. Collected.
That’s all he has to be right now. He crouched down, back straight, expression solid. There’s nothing more terrifying than peace before the storm.
‘Theodore-’ He lifts a hand, brushing away the fallen tendril of charcoal. ‘What did you do?’ ‘I was just sitting, doing my work, and then your bird, Macbeth, the Malfoy owl, the one that you trained, that’s been serving your family since your father came to Hogwarts, Macbeth, he just flew in, and then, since I had a rat’s tail, from Potions, the class we’ve been in together since year one, I gave it to him and he really liked it, so then I pet his head, and he was delivering a package, that I might have eaten a bit of, and then I told Macbeth about your letters, and how you’d never get the courage to send them, and then he just flew off.’ Silence. Draco lowered his gaze, collecting his rage, meeting his gaze, leaning in until their noses brushed. ‘That was a bad decision, Nott.’ A gulp added to the tension. ‘By tomorrow morning, Loony won’t even be able to look at you.’ Theo was finally a dead man.
When she hears a rapping at her window, she knows someone is terribly wrong.  Its like an omen at the beginning of a horror film, or the waves pulling back before the tsunami. Hesitantly, she flicks her wand towards the knobs, letting an unknown owl enter the room. It spins its head towards her, giant golden eyes peering into hers’, as if judging whether or not she deserved its message. Apparently she did, since Macbeth left without a hoot or stack of letters. Y/n swallowed an uneasy lump in her throat, her mind arguing with her judgement. Judgement lost.
Her nimble fingers flicked to a letter with the earliest date. The wind blew into her lungs, as she opened the first of a series of stories.

Dearest Y/n,

It seems as though my days are monotonous. Every hour, every minute, and every second I’m swallowed into a world of grey and black. I feel trapped in an earth with no colour or love or meaning. I felt that way, at least. That was until I first saw you. I was out by my thinking tree, completely barren of idea or wonder, when I noticed a young girl weeping. Suddenly, the grey turned into pastel blue, and the black, a willowing taupe. It was muted, but it was colour. I picked up my charcoal and began sketching. My hands were moving all on their own, since I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Your hair was wild and your robes were wrinkled. Every bit of you screamed out to me, and I wanted nothing more than to pull you into my arms and sing you to sleep. But fate is not kind. Your tears diminished and your sobs stopped reaching my ears. You left the field and left my sketchbook, a half drawn girl still crying in my pages.


Draco L. Malfoy

She couldn’t know what to think. Draco Malfoy. The boy in her potions class. He’s mean, and arrogant, and an artist. He’s a gory film you want to look away from yet won’t find the strength, because your gut is disgusted but your eyes are astonished, and you can’t seem to pull away.
She opens the next letter.

Dearest Y/n,

I won the quidditch game today! Slytherin verses Gryffindor, and I caught the snitch! I couldn’t help but look into the stands to see if you were there, and guess what? I found you! You don’t know how much it meant, seeing you cheer for me. I felt like puking up glitter and sinking into a pool of chocolate syrup. I wanted to fly loop-de-loops and scream until my lungs ached. Instead, I smiled at you, and hoped you’d notice.
I want to take you flying one day. I’d be a bastard, too, and make sure to take deep dives and sharp turns, just to feel your hands clench around me. God, what I would give to feel you hold me. I’d cut off my hand if it meant getting to hold yours for eternity. If I lost my voice, I’d want to tell you I love you just one time before becoming mute for the rest of my days. Yet, the only words I’ve ever said to you were ‘thank you,’ after you passed me a lacewing fly.
I don’t think I’ll ever be brave enough to speak to you a full sentence, or ever be brave enough to love you, but years from now, when we’re both divorced, I hope to run into you at Diagon Alley, and maybe say three words instead of two.

Truly and Unconditionally Yours,

Draco L. Malfoy

Lowering the letter, her lungs began to contract.
Love- a word more powerful than any spell.
She could hear her heart beating out of her ears as she began tearing the envelopes apart.









Words began popping out of the pages, letters of longing and praying and lusting and wanting surrounding her conscious like flies to a meal. As she dissected a half written letter dated on February 14th, an alarming knock shook her out of thought.
‘Y/n? There’s someone here to see you. Says he’s got a wrong to make right.’
She didn’t have to guess who it was.
The second she opened the door, her eyes met an anxious boy, lips red with bight marks and brows furrowed in fear.
He can’t help but feel honored that she knows his name. At the same time, its met with paralleled trepidation.
‘Have you-er-gottten, or um, received-’
‘I’ve read your letters.’
It’s a breath of release and a choked gag of horror. She knows. Is it a horrible fate that she realizes his affections, or a blessing in disguise?
‘You have.’ She lifts her gaze to him, digesting his disheveled appearance. He looks like he walked through a hurricane to make it to her door. His hair is a nest from pulling too hard on his locks, and his tie hangs limp after having tightened and loosened far too many times. For a moment, he doesn’t look like Malfoy: the bully, the bad guy, the hopeless, but instead, looks like the boy she watched sketch in the evening, with the gentle soul and kind smile.
‘Go to your tree next Friday at five, after class. I’ll have something waiting for you.’ With a soft click, her door closes, and he’s met with every horrible and remarkable emotion, flooding his ribcage all at once.
He can’t know what to feel. All day, his right leg has been racing, jumping up and down in anticipation for what’s to come. When Trelawney bids the class a happy weekend, he flies out the door, legs tumbling down the castle and towards the forest. He’s surprised to find she isn’t there. No Y/n. No sign of her presence. Instead, as he makes his way to the towering oak, he finds sixty two letters, nailed to the bark. He rips them off, finding each page with different messages. His heart stops as he unfolds the first.

Dear Draco,

I read your first letter today. I could feel my lungs decompress every ounce of air once I realized your deepest desires. I can’t help but feel the same. You’re a magical human being, and the world would be dull without you. It would simply be..monotonous. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to go through your sketchbook sometime. Say, right now?
If you want to draw a girl smiling and kissing a handsome artist, go to the Room of Requirement.
Just wish for me.

Always Yours,

Y/n L/n

Title: Until I Met You Part 2

Character: Isaac “Ike” Evans

TV: Magic City

Warnings: Smut!

Photo/GIF credits go to the original maker/owner

*2 years earlier*

Isaac had fallen into a depression. His beloved wife, whom he grew up with, had passed away from cancer a year ago.

She hadn’t suffered long, but towards the end she was still in pain.

He knew that she would have wanted him to move on, but he found it to be increasingly difficult, so he buried himself in his hotel, doing damn near everything, which was driving his employee’s absolutely crazy.

Eduardo, the maintenance man of the hotel had told him that enough was enough and that he was going to live a little. No more moping around because his wife would kick his ass if she’d seen what he had become.

“Dancing?” Ike said, smoking yet another cigarette.

Eduardo nodded, “Yes, Ike. Dancing.”

Ike had two left feet, there was no way…

“The woman that teaches, she’s very patient, trust me, okay?”

Ike looked out onto the horizon and chewed on his bottom lip.

It was just a dance class… get out of the hotel for a bit, get something to eat and go home. No big deal, right?

Well, that’s what he thought, until he saw the dance instructor enter the studio.

The first thing he noticed about her, was her smile. It was kind, her bow shaped lips just begging to be kissed tenderly. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled and greeted everyone.

Her hair was in a bun at the top of her head and holy hell, how he wanted to just take it down and run his fingers through it.

She wore a black leotard with a black flowing skirt and a pair of black flats. Her hourglass shaped body filled the tightness of the fabric perfectly.

As she neared him, he looked down at his red shirt, dress slacks and polished shoes, and hoped that he looked presentable. He ran a hand over his freshly shaven cheeks and wondered if he should have shaved his mustache as well.

“Y/N Russo, Isaac Evans,” Eduardo said, introducing the two.

She held out her hand and he gripped her delicate fingers, “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,”

With a faint blush to her cheeks, she dipped her head slightly as she smiled, “Nice to meet you too Isaac,”

“Ike is fine,”

He saw her pupils dilate at the sound of his voice. When she spoke, he had to lock his knees to keep them from shaking.


She was called over by another student and he felt like he could finally breathe, but damn did she make it difficult as her hips swayed while she walked.

“She’s not married or seeing anyone,” Eduardo whispered.


Eduardo clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, “You think I didn’t see that? You both were practically fucking each other,”

Ike laughed, clapping Eduardo on the back, “I don’t know what you’re talking about my friend,”

Eduardo smiled, knowing that his friend was in denial, but he knew that itch was going to get scratched once he danced with her.
“One, two, three and four,” Y/N counted as she clapped her hands to the beat.

People were dancing, some not on rhythm and Ike was one of them.

Ike growled in frustration as he missed another step.

The music stopped abruptly, everyone pausing mid step and looking to the instructor.

“Listen to the count, but most importantly, feel the music deep inside of you,” she said, fisting her hands on her chest and stomach as she spoke.

Y/N walked over to Ike and smiled, “You’re trying too hard, Ike. Take a deep breath and slowly let it out,”

He mimicked her and honestly, he did feel better.

“Good, now, give me your hand and place this one here,” She held one hand in hers and placed the other on her hip.

Ike could feel his pulse speeding up at the softness under his palms.

Y/N turned her head and nodded at the person at the record player.

Music flowed from the speakers, the slow Latin beat sounding far off to Ike’s ears. His main focus was this woman.

The more he held her, the more he spun her around, the more he wanted to bury himself deep within her.

He never thought he’d ever have the desire to be with another woman, but Y/N had proven him wrong.

He lifted her from the dip, their torsos touching. Jesus, her breasts felt amazing against his chest.

Both clearing their throats, they stepped back from one another. Y/N clapped her hands, instructing everyone that class was over.

Ike felt a sting of disappointment, figuring he was the cause and that he made her uncomfortable.

Crestfallen, Ike went to follow Eduardo, but was met with resistance.

Eduardo held his hand out, pushing slightly on Ike’s chest, “Stay,”

Ike shook his head, “I think I made her uncomfortable, Eduardo. Let’s just head back to the hotel,”

Eduardo cursed in Spanish and rolled his eyes as he shook his head, “Isaac, stay damnit,”

Ike looked over his shoulder and found Y/N peering from around the corner of her office.
Y/N’s back collided with the mirror that lined the walls of the studio.

She panted, flicking her tongue against Ike’s as his hands ran down her sides.

Moaning, she cupped his hardness through his pants, gently squeezing his heavy sac.

Ike’s hand slapped against the mirror. Nipping his way from her chafed, plump lips, he sucked and nipped at her neck.

The feel of her fingers caressing him through his pants was enough for him to come right then and there.

Not able to withstand her touches, he fumbled with the button of his pants, his fingers slipping.

Y/N placed her delicate hands over his, moving them out of the way so that she could unbutton them.

Cool air hit his skin once she pushed down his pants and they pooled at his ankles.

While Y/N took his length in her warm palm and began to pump him, he ran his hands up her thighs, pulling up the thin material.

Hooking his fingers inside the crotch of her leotard, he yanked it to the side, holding it open so that he could slide into Y/N.

Her legs were opened wide as he gripped her bottom in his hands. He squeezed the cheeks of her ass, lifting her just a bit.

Holding his hardness, she lined him up with her hot, wet center and let go as he snapped his hips forward.

“Oh my God!” Y/N shouted, holding onto his shoulder.

Ike held his hips still, her tightness tempting to milk him dry.

Y/N’s legs were securely wrapped around him. Taking one hand, he reached up and pulled the stretchy material down one shoulder, then the other to reveal her delicious breasts.

She pulled her arms from the confinement then slowly ran her hands over her breasts before plucking at her nipples.

Ike grunted, licking his lips as he rolled his hips.

Cupping the bottom of her breasts, she held them up just as he dipped his head down to suckle on a nipple.

Moaning as he groaned against her breasts, she encouraged him to nip and suck harder, “Harder, please,”

Letting her nipple fall from his mouth, he growled as he moved to the other breast, doing what she asked for.

“Holy shit!”

Her breast fell with a plop from his lips as he started to move his hips.

Looking up at her through his thick lashes, Ike made sure that she was watching as he flicked his tongue over her nipple with fast flicks.

“Yes, ohmygod, yes!”

Her tight tunnel started to tighten and grip him firmly. Lifting her hips, he held her as he snapped his hips with hard thrusts making her breasts bounce.

“I’m coming!” she whined, digging her heels into his backside.

“Jesus Christ!” Ike shouted, pulling out just in time as his release hit him.

Y/N reached down and pumped her hand over his shaft, his release splattering on her mound.

She slowed her hand just as Ike’s body began to twitch.

They both panted, basking in the moment before real life came crashing down.

Slowly, her legs fell from his hips, her feet just barely holding her up.

Ike reached down and pulled up his britches and wiped the sweat from his brow.

He took a deep breath and finally looked up at Y/N to find her tearing up.


She sniffled, not able to look up at him.

Cupping her cheeks, Ike wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs, “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head and bit her lip, “No, I…”

“Talk to me, Sweetheart,” he urged.

“I promise I’m not a whore,” she said, quietly, “this is out of character for me,”

“Honey,” Ike pulled her naked torso to his, running his hands up and down her bare back.

With his lips resting on her neck, he spoke loud enough for her to hear, “The thought never crossed my mind once,”

He pulled his head back and cupped her cheeks again, “In fact… I want to see you again… take you out on a real date,”


He smiled, his thumb gliding over her bottom lip, “Really,”

That night, before Ike left, he helped Y/N clean up and made sure that she was presentable before leaving the studio.

He walked her to her car and held open the door.

Just as she was about to get in, he stopped her, “Y/N?”

She graced him with the same smile that she had given him earlier, “Yes?”

Holding her chin, Ike leaned down and laid his lips on her’s in a slow, unhurried kiss.

Y/N held his wrist, bobbing her head in sync with his as they took their time tasting one another.

Once he pulled back, she could feel the heat rise to her cheeks.

“Drive safely, Doll. You hear me?”

Placing one last peck on his lips, she nodded, “I will Ike. Thank you,”

He winked, closing the car door as soon as she was in, “Thank you for tonight,”

They may have done things backwards, but it worked for the two and now they were happily getting married.


#89 - For anonymous x2

Filling the prompts “you finding out you’re pregnant a few weeks before van goes on tour, so when he comes back a few months later you have a big bump. He’s seen pictures while he’s been away, but seeing it in person and feeling your belly blows his mind” and “Can you write about Van with his tiny new baby and he’s terrified to share his baby with the boys because he’s absolutely convinced that Larry will drop it”

The tour plans were already set in stone by the time you found out you were pregnant. You weren’t worried though. Van would be gone for almost three months but during the second trimester. He’d be back for when you actually needed him, and you got the news early enough that they could postpone more touring and the album release for a while after he got back. You didn’t like that he’d have to do any of that. Catfish were on a roll, and stopping that momentum made you guilty. Van assured you that you were always his first priority and that his future babies would be too. He wanted a family, and nothing was more important than that at the end of the day.

On the day he left for the U.S. (and Canada and Australia and Japan and Brazil and everywhere ever) your baby bump was hardly a bump at all. You were somewhere in your third month of pregnancy. You looked online at other people’s bodies. The really thin people had obvious bumps, but you didn’t. It was hidden somewhere under your pointy hip bones and pre-existing belly. Van kissed you hard and you could feel that he didn’t want to leave; his fingers were twisted through yours too tight, he wouldn’t lift his forehead from yours. When the final boarding call sounded, and Larry came to pull him away, Van dropped to his knees and started to talk to your womb.

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Pride & Age gap

This was requested by @theridiculouspanda! I hope it’s not too early for some Pride <3

Word count: 468

Warnings: fluffish

(gif belongs to of-badges-and-guns)

Something seemed off about you today.  Maybe it was the fact that you had met Linda that had you acting this way.  Linda didn’t treat you with the same respect as she did the rest of the team.  You were sure it was because of your relationship with Pride.  Perhaps she thought you were using him.  You truly loved Pride and it bothered you that people thought about you that way.  It came along with the age gap between you and Pride.  People would always assume there were ulterior motives.

Pride noticed that you kept to yourself after Linda had left.  He didn’t like seeing you like this.  While the whole team was enjoying a good laugh, you were sitting at your desk.  He exhaled heavily, putting on a smile for the rest of his team.

“Ah’m gonna make some ice tea, anyone want some,” Pride asked, padding towards the kitchen.  He got many ‘yeses’, as expected.  “[Y/N] care to help me?”

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I whisper my Hail Mary’s along the edge of your ribs,
as I rewrite scripture on your blistered, fevered skin.
And if this isn’t holy, may god be damned,
for you are heaven in this symphony of sin.  

(Your rosary hangs as a noose around my neck;
oh, maybe in another life we could have been blessed)

—  another poem for a prayer I’ll never pray | p.d
The One With The Witch

Pairing: Alec Lightwood x Reader

Summary: In his desperation, Alec seeks out a witch to spell him so he can see Jace, even if it is just a hallucination, but doesn’t anticipate you risking your life to help him nor the attachment he feels towards you immediately after. 

MASTERLIST, MOBILE MASTERLIST (you can like it and save it for later!)


“What exactly are you asking me?” Meliorn asks, leaning back in his chair. He studies Alec intently, watching him pace back and forth.

 “I need to see him,” Alec mumbles.

 “I was under the impression that Jace had… disappeared. That you can’t see him through your parabatai bond,” Meliorn states.

 “Yes, but I need to see him – I –“ he inhales sharply, “I know there are ways you can help.”

 “I’m not following,” Meliorn frowns.

 “Drugs,” Alec snaps, “Drugs that make me see him.”

 “Oh Alec,” Meliorn sighs, “I’m afraid party drugs that downworlders use don’t possess the effects you describe but-“

 “But?” Alec asks eagerly.

 “But there are potions, witch’s spells, herbs – but there’s no accuracy to what you see. They’re just illusions. It won’t help you.”

 “I just need to see him,” Alec mumbles.

 “Then you need to find yourself a witch… or warlock. Have you asked Magnus?”

 “Magnus wouldn’t help with something like this,” Alec sighs, “Know any witches?”

 Meliorn nods slowly, “I should warn you… Y/N is a bit prickly.”

 The whole day you’d been haunted by the dark haired boy standing in the corner of every room you walked into. Not like you weren’t used to having Shadowhunters drop in on you to make sure you weren’t torturing people but being distracted by his pacing in the middle of a surgery when no one else could see him was pretty problematic.

 “Hey,” you finally snap, dragging Alec to your office when you find him standing outside the bathroom. Once you lock your door, you turn to face him, “You have ten seconds to tell me what the hell you want.”

 “I’m Alec Lightwood,” he says.

 You roll your eyes, “Of course you are. I’m surprised they sent one of Maryse’s kids to check on me – aren’t you guys a big deal?” you scoff, “Look, as you can see I’m saving Mundane lives not killing them. I’m trying to do good which is kind of hard when you’re standing next to me during a Septal Myectomy!”

 “A what?” Alec frowns. He waves a hand in the air, “Look, far be it for me to understand why a powerful witch like you would want to live in the mundane world as a surgeon,” he scoffs, “But I’m not here to check up on you. I need you do to something for me.”

 “You… need a favour?” you cock a brow up, smirking, “Well, that’s rich.”

 “Look, I don’t know what problems you have with my family but I assure you I played no part in them.”

 “You’re a Lightwood – you’ve already played your part in the torture and mistreatment of downworlders.” You open a bottle of bourbon and pour him a glass, waiting for him to take it before continuing.

 “Still, I’m curious to know what someone like you would need from me,” you inhale slowly, “You’re not dying are you?”

 “No, I don’t need surgery if that’s what you’re asking me. I need – I need drugs.”

 You bite back laughter, “You’re asking me to give you drugs? So you can get high?” you tilt your head and shoot him a funny look, “There are plenty of drugs in the Shadow World that would be far more effective on a Shadowhunter than mundane drugs from a hospital,” you explain pointedly.

 “I don’t want mundane drugs,” he says stiffly, “I need you to make me like a witchy potion or spell me.”

 “’A witchy potion’,” you repeat, chuckling, “Shadowhunters really are stupid.”


 Suddenly your expression is serious, “Because you come here, asking me to curse you – to drug you using witchcraft when you know I can’t. It’s in the accords.”

 “You’re not breaking any rules if I’m asking willingly,” he insists.

 “Get out,” you spit, “You Shadowhunters are so entitled. Making and breaking the rules. I have a good life and I’ve worked hard for it and I’m not about to throw it away so you can get a fix,” you say, shoving him out the door, “If I see you here again, I’ll kill you.”

 “Wait, wait, wait,” he pleads, holding the door open as you push against it, “I’m not looking for a fix. My parabatai, Jace – Valentine took him. I just want to see him again, even in a hallucination. I need to see him alive and well to keep me going, I just –“ he chokes, his eyes welling up, “I can’t keep going with this weight on my chest that he might be dead.”

 “Can’t you use your parabatai link?”

 “I can’t see him. It’s like he’s disappeared.”

You sigh. The most likely explanation for that was that he was probably dead. Still, seeing Alec crying and desperately seeking your help somehow appealed to your softer side.

 “Only once,” you say, “I finish at 11. I only have a few hours before I have to be back. I’ll meet you in the parking garage.”

 “Thankyou,” he chokes, throwing his arms around you. His height and build almost sent you tumbling to the floor. You struggle to stand properly and push him away, “Don’t hug me,” you mumble, patting his arm with an awkward smile.

 “Hey,” he mumbles in the doorway, “Aren’t you a little young to be a surgeon?”

 “Witches and Warlocks age slowly,” you say, “I may look younger than you but the chances are, I’m not.”

 “I doubt it,” he chuckles, “How old are you?”

 “Goodbye Alec,” you say, pushing him out and shutting the door.

 As he turns around to protest, the door slams in his face, “Meliorn wasn’t kidding about you being prickly,” he mumbles to himself.

 Hospital life kept you busy but you always tried to find time to practice witchcraft – falling out of touch with it was never a good idea. It existed within you, in your blood, in your mind – you could never outrun it. So you learned to control it.

 But with dark magic, there was always a chance of losing control.

 “Give me your hands,” you say, holding yours out. You feel Goosebumps rise on your skin at the warmth of his touch.

 Alec turns his head, examining your flat. It was very cottagey, timber floors and a fire place – the candles filling the room with a warm vanilla scent.

 “I always thought witches would live in like medieval castles,” he says.

 “Bit hard to find one of those in Manhattan,” you scoff, “Concentrate.”

 He smiles, closing his eyes and slumping slightly as he relaxes. He listens to you mumble incantations. He could feel your hands tightening around his and he winces slightly – it felt like you were crushing his bones.

 “Ah- are you sure you’re doing this right?” he asks, grimacing until his eyes flutter open. He pulls his hands out of yours, examining the deep, purple bruises.

 “Y/N?” he waves a hand in your face. Your eyes were open but you don’t flinch.

 “She can’t hear you now – you’re in a whole different realm,” Jace’s voice comes from behind him

“Jace,” Alec sighs, pulling him into a hug, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

 “Well, that’s not entirely true. I’m just a hallucination. A figment of your imagination,” Jace laughs.

 “I’m going to find you,” Alec says sternly, “I’m going to bring you back.”

 “I don’t doubt that,” Jace says, “But you can’t do that if your mind is over here with me. You’re hurting yourself-“ he looks over Alec’s shoulder, “And her.”

 Alec looks at you, shaking slightly with blood dripping from your nose. He could hear you whimpering.

 “What’s happening to her?”

 “This is dark magic. Forbidden magic. And to perform it on a Shadowhunter when it goes against the accords has it’s price,” Jace explains, turning Alec to face him, “Go back to the real world to find me – what you find here will only bring you short term comfort.”

 Alec nods, pulling Jace into one last hug. As he pulls away and turns back, reaching for your hands, Jace grabs his arm.

 “And stay with her,” Jace adds, “She’ll help you through this and she’ll help you find me,” he says, winking.

 Alec nudges him playfully, rolling his eyes before closing them and taking your hands again. When he opens them, Jace is gone but you’re still there, shaking, about to pass out.

 “Whoa,” he mumbles, holding you up by the shoulders as you begin to collapse. He scoops you up in his arms and lays you down on your couch.

 You’re out cold for hours and when you come to, he’s still by your side.

 “Shit, what’s the time?” you shout, shooting straight up.

 “Don’t worry, according to your phone you’ve still got another 40 minutes before you have to be at work,” he says.

 “Oh, good,” you sigh in relief, lying back down.

 “Why did you help me?” he asks, “Jace said it could’ve killed you.”

 “Don’t flatter yourself,” you chuckle, “I didn’t know it’d take such a big toll.”

 That was a lie but you weren’t about to admit that him fluttering his long eyelashes at you got the drop on you nor were you going to admit that you thought you could handle it when you clearly couldn’t.

 “I doubt that,” he gives you a small smile, “Seems to me like you took a risk for me.”

 “And why would I do that?” you leer, turning away from him.

 “I don’t know,” he shrugs, his voice teasing.

 “Well, I’d better get going,” you say, standing up and pulling on a coat, “I hope you find what you’re looking for. I won’t be able to do that again, Alec.”

 “Thankyou,” he says, walking beside you to the front door. You wait for him to go out but he lingers, leaning against the frame.

 “What are you doing?” you ask, frowning.

 “I found what I’m looking for,” he says with a cheeky grin.


 “Right here,” he says, walking back inside and sitting on your couch, “I’ll be here when you get back,” he sighs, getting comfortable as he stretches across it, cupping his hands behind his neck for support.

 You should’ve been mad or annoyed but suddenly having such a tall, and let’s admit – handsome - Shadowhunter in your living room made it seem less lonely.

 “There’s ingredients for lasagne in the fridge,” you call out. He shoots up from the couch, rushing into the kitchen.

 “I’m on it!” he calls out.

@happyanon-spreadlovenothate said to it-refused:

For the requests, how about Sans and Grillby curled up together after a particularly long day swapping puns and stories and just reminiscing in general. Just talking and enjoying each others company as the stories fade into comfortable silence as they drift off to sleep.

This didn’t end up exactly what you asked for, but I hope you like it!

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Sightless :: 11

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 1,827

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)

“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.

Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays.
Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.

But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”

A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.

Originally posted by sosjimin

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