charcoal shirt

anonymous asked:

Howdy naf! First ask here, I really dig your art and you as a person!! I aint so swift with color when it comes to fashion/outfits and such, i've seen you write a bit about this before but wouldja mind at all givin' some pointers for not falling into the dreaded ditch that is [horror music plays] mismatched blacks?

HAHA ok before I go off on my rant I just want to say that mismatched blacks aren’t universally seen as a fashion crime, even though I know tons and tons of people who don’t like it. There are never any rules in fashion, just guidelines, and if you end up disagreeing with me and my gothic ass that’s a-okay

but the reason I personally don’t like mismatched blacks is because I think it shows a lack of dedication. I know that sounds weird, so I’ll explain.

Let’s start with some examples of good all-black ensembles, and what the monochrome color story does to highlight the outfit.

When the blacks are all unified in an outfit, it creates sleekness and reduces the amount of distractions in order to highlight other things like texture, silhouette, and detail. 

And this is actually one of the ways you can try to avoid mismatching your black clothes, by relying on differences in texture. It’s very difficult for anyone to find perfectly matched clothes, so if you can pair close-enough tones and use enough texture contrast, it helps maintain the all-black ensemble.

A classic example is a leather jacket with a cotton shirt and denim pants

Not only does the change in texture help the outfit and retain the sense of sophistication, the texture contrast is suddenly the entire point of the outfit, bringing attention and focus to it. It has dedication and deliberate curation.

Now let’s look at a bad example of an all-black outfit and some potential edits

The original is giving us 3 separate tones to work with: a deep black shirt, charcoal pants, and an off-teal blue jacket. The similar (but not-quite-the-same) texture and tone between the jacket and pants is distracting, and not letting the unique shape of the jacket sing. And because there’s two midtones (jacket and pants), the deep black of the shirt has nothing to rest on, and ends up just looking bland.

  1. In fix 1, we unify both the jacket and pants to being charcoal, letting them stand out as a unit. The black shirt becomes a complimenting “staple” piece and plays well with both. This is essentially a good one-two punch of visual effect
  2. In fix 2, we actually embrace the color of the jacket completely, letting it be the focal color pop while the shirt and pants take a back seat. Because the shirt and pants are now secondary pieces, they work together because their closeness in tone allows them to exist in the same family. However, the texture and silhouette of the pants still stands out from the shirt, giving the outfit more interest, but not enough to fight for attention with the jacket

Both fix 1 and 2 are more dedicated to showcasing different parts of the outfit, while the original gives us 3 elements fighting for attention.

Again, this is my personal opinion, but I hope it helps you out!  (´//▽//` );;

Imagine...Enjoying Captain America

Originally posted by demondetoxmanual

Request: Can you write a dean×reader where reader is really into like captain america and the winter soldier and dean keeps teasing her that she loves them more than him and just fluff?

Pairing: Dean x reader


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The Anti-Valentine’s Day Party

It’s heeeeeere. Happy Valentine’s Day @myst-l-vie​ from your no longer secret valentine! Fluff is not my strong suit but hopefully you enjoy this. <3

Read on Ao3 

-x-

“You’re still coming to the party tonight, right?”

Emma rolls her eyes, stabbing at her phone to put it on speaker and tossing it onto her passenger seat. “I’m just leaving the liquor store. Yes, I’ll be there,” she assures Ruby, carefully placing the bag of booze on the passenger side floor with a pleasant clinking of bottles.

“Is Elsa coming with you?”

Emma wrinkles her nose, clicking her seat belt into place and shoving the keys into the ignition. “She’s doing something with Liam.”

“Killian’s brother Liam? When did that happen?”

“Like a week ago? Killian forgot his jacket, and his brother was with him when he stopped by the apartment. Elsa was doing yoga in the living room. Apparently they go to the same studio, but he goes on Tuesday and she goes on Wednesday, and they just started going on and on while Killian and I stood there staring at them like the insane people they are. They decided to go together on Monday, and I sort of haven’t seen much of her since.”

“Huh.” Ruby’s surprise is evident in her response, but then she adds, “Wait, Killian forgot his jacket? How does someone forget their jacket when it’s negative ten?”

Emma groans, because she knows this tone of voice, and she knows exactly how Ruby is going to react. “I might have been wearing it, and I fell asleep.”

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anonymous asked:

You're hilarious. What about voltron paladins fashion, can you comment/rate them please??

7/10 lined jacket with multiple pockets and gold accents, a blue hemmed baseball t shirt and standard baggy jeans. it’s practical and subtle. the overall color scheme suggests this boy is at ease with himself, with his body, and with the world around him. a peppy lad. unfortunately, the shoes are pure marty mcfly and i can’t look at him now without thinking about the 80s. (more below)

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Michael Clifford::: Video Games and Bug Bites Pt 2

Pairing: Michael and Y/N

Word Count: 4.3k+

Rating: Smut

Requested: yep :)

PART 1 (smut)

This part is all about how fucking cute he would be after taking your virginity and you’re all sore. This whole mini series things just hits me right in the Michael feels. 

Also guys the first part of this was posted on Wattpad without my permission -.- but I promise you this is my original idea and story.

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With You

Summary: The very fabric of a relationship is unfamiliar and terrifying to Jughead. Will fear win or will he decide you’re worth it?

Word Count: 1314

Warnings: N/A

A/N: I was inspired by Hearts Don’t Break Around Here by Ed Sheeran. I hope you enjoy!


“I don’t understand, Jughead. You’re fine one minute and the next you’re gone.” You sighed, your emotions wearing you down.

Life hadn’t been easy for Jughead. He’d had a nuclear family until things went nuclear and tore it apart. He’d known a great childhood regardless of wealth. He’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. Maybe escaping south side was a triumph in itself, but Jughead couldn’t escape his own mind.

He was careful not to meet your gaze. Maybe he thought he could avoid the situation if he couldn’t see you. His face was stern. His once soft features hard. The cold demeanor gave you a physical chill.

“Maybe,” he kept his voice low,” I don’t need you being nice to me.”

Your forehead creased with slight confusion and disbelief. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Jughead leaned further back into the booth. His jaw moved back and forth in thought. His green eyes were dark and focused on a neon sign.

“Jughead, what does that mean?”

His eyes found yours and the look physically shook you. ” I don’t need you to pity me, (Y/N). I’m not a charity case.”

You were trying to wrap your head around the situation. You were completely lost. The emotional fatigue had taken a toll on you physically. You were ready to crawl into bed and stay there. While that idea seemed tempting, you weren’t giving up Jughead.

“Charity case? Where is this coming from? You’re my boyfriend, Jughead, not some kid who I feel like needs pity.” You reached to grab his hand, but he moved it further from you.

“Until what? Another guy comes along, like Chuck or better yet Archie, and says he wants to be with you?”

You stared at him, your eyebrows subtly pulled down. You were reeling emotionally. The devastation hit you physically, sinking your chest. Your eyes glistened as they began to water. Your lips trembled, but nothing came out. There was nothing else to say.

You blinked away any tears that may have been forming. You sucked in a cold breath trying to stop the flood. You removed yourself from the booth and left. You let the ring of the welcome bell over the door drown out Jughead’s calls.

Your phone had been buzzing for hours. You hadn’t the strength to look at it. You stayed there under the covers. Your limbs heavy with dejection. You laid there and watched time elapse.

At some point, you became bothered by the buzz and turned the phone off. You managed to leave bed to briefly grab something to drink. You still felt too sick to eat.

“Veronica and Betty came by to see you. I tried to call you. Were you sleeping?” Your mother asked from her laptop.

You nodded,” Mhm. I’m just really tired. I think I’ll spend the weekend at home.”

“But honey, we’re supposed to go visit your aunt and uncle.” She looked up.

You frowned,” I’m just feeling really run down from school and hanging out.”

You couldn’t dodge your mother’s concern. She rose from her seat and came to check your head. No fever. Your hands were cold.

“Are you okay?”

“I promise, mom. I’m fine, just super tired. No reason for you not to go, I can take care of myself.”

She held your cheeks in her hands and studied you carefully. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You nodded in her hands.

“Okay, but if you need anything call us immediately.”

You promised her and returned to your bedroom. You got back in bed and waited for sleep to take you. Shadows stretched across your ceiling and disappeared with the fading light.

Sunrays tickled your skin. The brightness caused you to squeeze your eyes. You groaned. Your eyes popping open. You scowled.

“So this is what sleeping beauty looks like up in her tower.”

Your heart ached suddenly. You tried to rub the headache forming in your head. You weren’t doing this right now. You glanced at the alarm clock: 10. Nope. You still had another two hours until it was unacceptable to be in bed.

He sat on your window seat. He was wearing a charcoal grey shirt. It was as undoubtedly soft as he was. He was wearing his beanie as per usual. His thick, luxurious hair peeked out from under the beanie, curling off to the side where he pushed it. The way the light came through, he looked like an angel.

His smile caused a twinge of pain.

“Go away, Jughead.”

You rolled over and pulled the covers over your head. This used to work for monsters. It might work on teenage boys.

You felt the mattress sink with his weight. He wrapped his arm around you. His grip was firm even under the blankets. It should have made you giddy or comforted at least, but it didn’t. You tried to burrow deeper into the mattress and away from his grip.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His voice was gentle.

“I want you to leave.” Your voice choked holding back tears.

“I’m sorry.” He leaned his lips close to where yours hid under covers.

You were suffocating under here. This is why monsters could have snatched you. You couldn’t stand the hot air. You pushed the covers back from your face.

You looked at from over your shoulder. Your lips pinched in a slight pout and your eyebrows pulled down.

The corners of his lips stretched into a smile.

“Stop being cute. I’m trying to be mad at you.” You muttered.

He chuckled softly, running his thumb along your cheek. “You have every right.”

“I’m not good at this.” He moved his eyes around, swallowing the nerves in his throat. “I freak out when people do nice things for me or are nice to me for long periods of time.”

You rolled over to listen further. You looked up at his face, observing the soft curve of his jaw and the prominent cupid bow. He met your gaze and brushed some of your hair out of your face.

“I’m not used to it. I’m scared. Of rejection. Of losing you. People who know me don’t stay.” His words faltered at the end.

You reached a hand up and pulled encouragingly at his neck. He leaned down. Your thumb brushed over his cheekbones as you pressed your lips to his. Your lips moved slowly over familiar terrain. He was tender. You were comforting.

You held his green gaze,” Jug, I’m with you because I love you.”

“Not this beanie,” you discarded the hat,” Not your stories. Not your history or your incredibly soft shirts. I’m with you because you’re witty and philosophical. You’re sarcastic and you make me laugh. You’re soft.”

His eyes were full. They were warm and sparkling with a revitalized life.

“Soft?” He smiled with a laugh.

“Yes. Soft.” You ran your fingers through his inky hair. “Your eyes and your skin. Your heart. You’re one of a kind, Jughead Jones. Better than you or anyone else in Riverdale will ever know.”

You lifted your head to kiss him. Pushing him to settle into your bed. You leaned on top him. You pushed a hand through his hair, toying with a curl at the end. He watched you with attentive eyes.

Your smile grew when you noticed. You nestled into space between his arm and his side. You leaned your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You breathed him in like a window through a field of wildflowers.

His fingers played with your hair. You closed your eyes against the comfort. The two of you remained in comfortable silence. His fingers tracing small patterns on your arm.

“I love you.” He stared up at your ceiling.

You looked up from his chest before lacing your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand softly. You squeezed back.

Deep in the Corner

Deep in the Corner

Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: language, brief hints at self doubt, smut.

A/N: This is for @deanwinchester-smut’s Weird Kinks Challenge! My prompt was “Public Sex/Touching”.

Originally posted by hiddened

Cas was never a fan of the club scene. Actually, it made him as anxious as a cat trapped in a dog pound. But, he braved them when the occasion called for it. You know, like when the fate of the world depended on it.

And today, the world definitely depended on it.

There were at least five inhuman creatures in the joint, but only one of them mattered. It was a creature that you hadn’t seen before, and it left the Winchesters beyond stumped. It acted like a werewolf, but there was nothing wolfish about it. In fact, it almost acted like a cat, minus the adorable meows. People were being slaughtered after visiting Club Rogue in downtown Louisville for the last four days, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

Castiel stood along the wall, barely hiding his absolute terror as he eyed various people in the crowd. His gaze flicked over to you every few minutes as you sat at the bar, nursing your fruity house cocktail. Of course, you were the bait for the night. Figures.

After almost thirty minutes of nothing, you turned yourself towards the dance floor. Tugging your short, dark purple dress down a bit, you stood from the chair. If no one was noticing you at the bar, then you’d try your luck on the dance floor.

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Describing Noah Shaw :
Shoes: gray Chucks
Pants:
charcoal tweed
Shirt:
slim cut, untucked, thin and pinstriped dress shirt. Super skinny tie, knotted loose around his open collar, exposing the shadow of a screen-printed t-shirt beneath it.
Days unshaven: somewhere between three and five
Half-smile:
Treacherous
Eyes: blue and infinite
Hair:
a beautiful, beautiful mess
Me:
Me:

Me:
*dies* 

original post by  @hiddenpolkadots

You’re a mess, Ren.

I’m on a spiral slide right into hell with this art school AU tbh

amor proibido iii

Special thanks to @mercyonmendes for writing the Shawn blurb!

Get me out of my mind and get you out of those clothes - Fall Out Boy

Deep breath. I can do this. I have done nothing wrong at this point. Everything is good. My life is absolutely fucking amazing.

I can have this conversation with the man I am going to be marrying and not let on some kid tried to kiss me. Okay, he is not just some kid now…but whatever. I have a fiance and I love him. End of story.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, running a hand over my face and listening to Landon go on and on about his day. He is telling me about how hard his job is working at his dad’s company where he pretty much does nothing all day and how shitty his night was because he had to come home alone to an empty house because of my fucking job stealing me away from the worst time. Yet again, it is another ten minutes of listening to him talk only about himself and not even ask me about everything major. Even though he knows how much of a big deal this article is, Landon will always be more important than me. 

“Listen…” I say, trying to let on how much stress I am under from this shit show of my life. “I will call you tomorrow because I am exhausted. I just want to crawl into bed and fall asleep.”

Landon says, “I don’t like having to sleep when you aren’t next to me. What am I supposed to do when I want someone to make my dick hard?”

I think he thinks it is sexy, but I just find it annoying. I would never let on so I say, “Just know I am thinking of you, babe.” It is partially true. “I will be home in a few days and we can more than make up for any lost time, okay?”

“I love you, talk to you soon, sweetheart.”

“You too,” I reply, ending the call and lying back.

There is now a special place in hell for me. 


My phone chirps with a text early the next morning Concert day.

It is from an unknown number, but it must be someone related to this whole debacle because otherwise I am going to think there is someone stalking me. And trust me, I am not worth anyone’s time at all. In fact, I am a rather shitty person. Last night was the perfect case in point. 

I could just ignore the text because I have a lot of work to do in starting my article. I am going to be spending most of my day writing and planning because I have to attend this concert tonight as well. I have to write about the concert and still do one more interview with him tomorrow. Then I will be able to go home the day after and act like he never kissed me. It was just a stupid kiss, and I pushed him away. It means nothing at all. 

Who is this? I type back, sitting up in bed and debating about whether or not I want to make the trip down to have some kind of food or just have it delivered. I mean, work is going to pay for it but I don’t even know what I would choose.

A picture of a sleepy eyed Shawn appears on my screen, his hair askew and his lids half closed. 

Holy fuck. 

What the fuck is this kid doing? He has no reason to be texting me. I could ask how he got my number, but I am sure he has his ways since he is fucking famous. Also, why am I like half turned on by a photo of him lying in bed? There is something very wrong with me, and I am going to be atoning for these thoughts for a very long time.

I throw my phone down, deciding to take a shower and get dressed. Maybe he will get the hint if I don’t say anything. He is trying to get under my skin, but I need him to be as distant as possible. I have a fiance, and I have a life. This is going to be good for me as long as I don’t mess it up, but Shawn is making it so fucking hard.

Returning to my phone, I see two messages.

You don’t seem pleased to know I have your number.

I am not going to apologize for kissing you.

Fuck my life.

This is my fucking job, and I don’t have time for some fucking kid to think it is okay to mess with me as a joke. I am not interested in you. Please stop.

Oh, my god. I am such a fucking liar.

I bet you look beautiful in the morning.

FUCK. He is trying to be sweet. Okay, deep breath. He is just full shit and trying to get you to sleep with him. There is nothing genuine about his words, right?

You are so full of shit. No wonder your eyes are so brown.

So you noticed my eyes? Yours are gorgeous. You are gorgeous. I’ll see you tonight at the concert, yeah?

Go fuck yourself. It’s my job. That’s all. 

I want to fuck you. Tonight.

Holy shit. What the fuck is my life even?


Shawn

Sitting on the edge of the bed in my hotel room, I mindlessly strummed my guitar as I gazed out at the city and wallowed in my own frustration. I wasn’t even sure why I was frustrated. 

Her evident frustration was justified: I was an arrogant, irritating little prick to her. I also wasn’t sure why I did that either. It had been such a habit to crank up the sexually heated charm that it had now become second nature to me whether I wanted it to or not. But hey, I am still essentially a teenage guy. This was normal, right? 

 A heavy sigh escaped my lungs and I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends in confusion. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t focus my mind on anything but her. Meeting attractive girls every day was a job requirement so obviously I was struck by some of them. Again, reiterating the hormonal teen part. But she was different. Could it be because she was an older woman? I did have a thing for that. God, do I have mommy issues? Is that even a thing? I cut off my own incessant rambling thoughts with a loud groan which prompted Geoff to bang on the adjoining wall and mutter something crude. Ignoring him, I loudly strummed the opening chords for Roses that I had just written down and released my pent up disgruntlement in the only way I knew how. I sang.


The concert is insane. The crowd is enormous, and Shawn seems more than ready. Looking from backstage, I can see the people waiting for the show to begin. It must be one of most exhilarating sensations in the world to be able to perform in front of so many. It reminds of how one day I would love for to be a writer everyone is reading. This is my first step there. A good beginning. There is the chaos of setting up the show and everyone making sure everything is perfect. Trying to stay out of the way, I roam back to Shawn’s dressing room.

Instead of finding his normal posse, he is just sitting there alone with his guitar. He looks otherworldly, just strumming softly and singing the words in his head. It has to be one of the most attractive things I have ever seen in a man. Not that he is a man… he is just a boy and…

“Can I ask you a few more questions before the shows starts, Shawn?” I ask, stepping towards him and breaking his concentration.

He looks up at me with a smile, placing the guitar down beside him. “Sure, why not,” he says.

I hesitantly sit down at a chair somewhat far away from him and tap my fingers on my knee. I don’t know why I wore this black dress because it’s way too short and too tight around my breasts. Then again, Landon was always telling me not to wear it so maybe this is my subtle fuck you to him. I know I look amazing. He just wants to fucking control me. 

“Do you have a favorite concert venue?” I ask, inwardly groaning at my shitty questions. Shawn is making me flustered to the point where I can’t even do my job properly. What I need is to have a few drinks during the concert so I can calm down and just forget about all of this weird tension we have going on. He has to know he is making me crazy. It is like he is doing it on purpose, trying to fuck with me and get me to notice him.

“I can’t hear you,” he says, leaning forward. His hair is perfectly done in messy perfection and he is wearing a charcoal button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black skinny jeans, his shoes are brand new all black Chucks. He looks fucking amazing. Not that I would tell him. And I probably should not be noticing?!

“You can hear me just fine,” I say and cross my arms over my chest, trying to cover my cleavage. However, it seems to make them more perky. Fuck. “Just answer my questions so you can play your damn show and this can all just be over for us, okay?”

Shawn raises an eyebrow. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you, I just…”

“You just what?” he echoes, searching for answer I don’t fucking have.

This was just supposed to be a career maker. Not suddenly make me fucking confused about my entire life. He is a fucking teenager. I am a grown woman. He probably is reminded of his mom when he looks at me, there is no way he could be attracted to me. This is just a job I need to do so I can return to my life. My life where I have a fiance and a house and a job and all of these adult things. I am not someone who plays music all over the world and has this amazing, fun life all the fucking time. 

“Nothing.” I pause. “I don’t hate you. I don’t feel anything for you.” Lies. “This is just my job, and I want to do it well. This article is important to the both of us. You want to look good, and I am hoping this is going to help me be able to write more important stories.”

“You don’t look happy when you talk about your job,” Shawn says off handedly, like he can just see into my soul no big deal at all. “I don’t see the passion you are supposed to have. I am sure you have a passion for writing, but what do you really want?”

I don’t remember the last time anyone has asked what I wanted. It catches me off guard. “What.. what do you mean?”

“What do you want?” Shawn repeats, getting up and walking over to me. He looks down at me, waiting.

Without another word, I rise and look at him. “I want to be happy.”

“I am going on stage soon,” he whispers against my neck, tracing his lips along the curve and stopping right below my ear. His hands are moving lower than my waist now, lazily venturing towards his favorite place.

I try not to shiver at the sensation of his breath against my skin, but I feel those chills up and down my spine. He knows it too because there is a smirk on his face as he slowly slips his hand up my thigh, moving beneath my dress and locks his eyes with mine as though daring me to protest. I can already feel the moisture building between my legs and he hasn’t even touched me yet.

Gnawing my cheek to keep from alerting him about the status of my aching core, I just nod at him and keep my eyes on his. 

His hazel eyes bore into mine, anticipating something will happen soon. His lips ghost kisses beneath my ear before he delicately kisses the shell of my ear and whispers, “I am going to make sure you remember me while I am on stage.”

I just nod my head and arch my hips up to his hand, not quite sure how else I am supposed to behave while he seems to have rendered me speechless with just his touch and a few words strung together. It shows how well he can get beneath my skin, but it makes me wonder what he has in mind for me.

His hand slides down to my hip and he grips it tightly as he tilts my head so my lips are pressed against his, his kisses are deep and meaningful. He nibbles on my bottom lip eagerly, chuckling at his deviancy for a moment before I find myself completely melting into his advances.

I try to reach my hand out and slide it up his thigh, but he bats me away, stating, “I am in charge right now, and we are going to do what I say. Hands to yourself or else.”

It is hard for me to listen to him when there is this part of me that craves so badly to make him want me the way I tend to want him. I know he is turned on right now by the apparent bulge in his shorts. I want to run my hand up his leg and tease him, to feel his length in my hand and know I am the one who is able to make him so fucking hard. I want to do that more than anything else, but he cuts me off from that. Shawn has set up the parameters I am supposed to follow, but I am curious to know what could happen if I dare to break them. His fingers resume their journey, two of them pressing against the fabric of my lacy panties. He runs them over my clit, raising his eyebrow at me. Shawn adroit fingers skim over the damp area, and he tells me, “I made you so fucking wet, and I have barely even touched you.”

It is not something I want to admit out loud to him, but I adore the way he just tells me exactly how it is. The words coming from his mouth are so attractive and make me even wetter for him.

His thumb rubs my clit lazily, not trying to rush what he is planning. My hips buck up to meet his touch, and I still long to make him seem so desperate the way I am. Instead he gets to be all calm and collected while I am a total mess, which I do not think is very fair at all. “Shawn..I..” My hand stretches out to cup his erection, ready to alleviate the tension building between us.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes darkening as he stares down at my hand touching him. Shawn stops his motions, leaving me desperate for the finish. I can feel myself slowly getting closer, and he has just denied me the release. I want to grab his hand and force him to continue, or I could do it myself. But I find myself transfixed by his gaze as he takes my hand away and says to me, “And now you are going to have to learn your lesson the hard way. I warned you that you should not touch me. Hands to yourself was rather a simple command…” he sighs. “But now you are going to have to deal with the consequences of your actions.”

I expect him to take his hand away from me and say he is not going to allow me to experience any pleasure at all. It will be cruel, but I would not be surprise I want to kick myself for being so eager to touch him, but I could not help myself.  I fucked everything up. My hips begin to pull away from him, allowing him to pull his hand off. But he doesn’t do that.

Instead, he slides my dress up, sliding my panties off me with one hand, and tosses them on the floor. His index finger slips in between my folds, allowing him to feel more of the moisture he caused to grow from his actions. He moves his finger in and out of me for a moment before bringing it to his lips and gently licking it in front of me. “You taste so good,” he murmurs, “I. Want. More.”

There is no chance to speak before he has grabbed my legs and pulled my entire body towards him; he spreads my legs with his hand and guides my hips to his mouth.

His blue eyes gleam as he looks up at me before slowly taking his tongue and running it along my clit. He grips my thighs tightly, pushing them down onto the bed as he glances up at me with those hazel orbs while never taking his tongue off my wet center.

He takes one of his digits, sliding it inside of me and quickening the pace to match the movement of his tongue. I can feel my hips pressing towards him, small moans falling from my lips as I beg him to keep going. He nibbles my clit gently, using his fingers to probe on with his ministrations.

I can feel myself slowly getting closer to release as his tongue traces circles around my core, his own moans causing me to become even wetter. He removes his finger and brings it up to my mouth, instructing me with his eyes to lick it off for him. I take his finger between my lips and slowly suckle, hoping he is going to allow me to repay him soon.

“You are so beautiful,” Shawn whispers as she takes his finger back, now placing two inside of me. I can feel him going deeper, his knuckles brushing my folds and causing me to gasp at how intense he is causing me to feel. His mouth continues to tease my clit, lapping up the juices eagerly and making me feel as though I am going to completely lose it at any second. His fingers have found my g spot, carefully teasing it and causing me to gasp out his name. He has to know how unfair this is for me; I am feeling as though I am going to lose myself completely and he is just taking his sweet time. His tongue continues to flick at my clit greedily as my hips pump up against him from the combination of both mouth and hand.

“Shawn, please…” I beg, needing the overstimulation to stop. I need to release or I am just going to…

“Oh, so that is what you want, love?” he teases from between my thighs, slowly taking his mouth away from me.

I reach down to place his hand back to its previous position, but he raises his eyebrows at me and just repeats, “I told you twice about hands to yourself and now you don’t get to orgasm for me just yet.”

I stare at him dumbfounded as he takes his hand out of me and sits up for a moment, licking his fingers like a clever cat. His eyes flash with amusement as he sees the frustration furrow my brow, causing me to let out a groan. I close my legs, feeling the wetness dripping down my thighs and it makes me want to strangle him for being such a tease. There is nothing fair about bringing me so close and just stopping, but he seems utterly pleased with himself.

Just then, there is a knock on the door. “Shawn! Showtime!” 

He stands up, quickly wiping his face and looking at me. “Make sure you’re watching from backstage, I am sure you won’t be able to stop thinking of me.” He raises an eyebrow again before he leaves with guitar, leaving me standing there with trembling thighs and no panties on.


Standing stage side to Shawn is one of the best experiences I’ve had in a long time. He is pure talent and he has so much stage presence.  He just shines with the guitar and his voice is beautiful. It is hard to deny he is doing what makes him happy. But it brings up all of the thoughts running through my own mind right now. 

I have a fiance. And we are getting married in a month. Yet, I let Shawn…

Oh, my fucking god. What have I done?! This is the worst thing I have done yet, when everyone find out I am going to lose my job and be labelled a slut. Because Shawn is famous. And a man. he will be forgiven because boys will be boys. But I should know better because I am supposed to be a lady. Fucking double standards. Fuck society.

He has been looking at me all night too. The most intense eye contact in the world. I can feel his eyes on me no matter and that stupid smirk is glued onto his fucking face. I blush every time he looks at me because well… there is no way I am going to think of him as a kid any longer. He is a man who has given me the best head I have ever had. Because Landon thinks it’s only for “sepcial occasions”. Fuck that. Shawn seems like he would ravage the fuck out of me with that mouth all the time, ad I just…. I need to stop because this has already gone too far. He is just a kid, and I have a fiance. Nothing else can happen between us. 

“This song is for a very special person…” Shawn says, once again with the fucking intense eye contact. “It’s called “Roses.” “

And I have to be honest with you baby
Tell me If I’m wrong, and this is crazy
But I got you this rose
And I need to know
Will you let it die or let it grow?
Die or let it go?

Oh. My heart… what is happening? I barely know him. There is no way I am falling for Shawn Mendes. 

Right?

Will you let it die or let it grow?

He looks at me as the song finishes, and I realize my heart may slowly finding its way to unexpected happiness.

How the fuck am I going to tell him the truth now?

The Future I‘ve Chosen

Summary: A few months after defeating Vecna and living in peace, Vex feels it is time to carefully broach the topic of starting a family - Percy’s reaction is not what she expected, though. They’ll have to work through his fears together.

Additional Info: Angst, Emotional Talks, and just enough fluff towards the end to make it not-sad.

Note: This is literally the first story I’ve written in a decade. I’m happy about any comments or helpful criticism. (Please also mind that English isn’t my first language so there might be a few weird sentence structures or repetitions…)



Vex had already been waiting in their bedroom for well over an hour when she finally heard the familiar sound of the dressing room door next to the bedroom being opened and closed, as carefully as Percy could muster, probably assuming she was already asleep. His shifts in the workshop had become longer and longer, and despite Vex making an effort of visiting him – and dragging him off to bed at a reasonable time – as often as possible, there were still many evenings where he wouldn’t come to bed until she was fast asleep, and where she left him alone early in the morning to sleep off the fatigue from a night of working.


She didn’t mind, especially since she’d found out that he wasn’t working on another weapon. Percy wasn’t willing to tell much yet, still at the beginning of his plans, but the short description of his clocktower had already made Vex’s eyes water. Their final victory over Vecna was many months ago, most of the world had already moved on pretty well in their reparations, yet she – and surely all of her Vox Machina family members – still felt a sting in their hearts thinking about it. To see it commemorated in such a beautiful way made her hopeful.

Again, Vex didn’t mind her husband’s long hours in the workshop that much – she was well aware what a big part of Percy his tinkering was. But lately, she’ d felt the need to have him beside her in bed when she was drifting off to sleep, thinking about so much that a calming hand on her side would be helpful. And there was an urging topic, something she had to talk about with him, that never really fit into their normal conversations during meals or sitting in the reading room with Cassandra by their side.


She couldn’t wait for a good moment any longer. Even if she caught him off-guard, it had to be tonight. Keyleth’s innocent laughter from a conversation a few days ago was still ringing in her head. „Every time I see you now, I’m expecting you to hide a little bump.“ While the druid had certainly meant no harm, her remark stuck in the back of Vex’s head like flypaper.


So when she heard Percy quietly pottering about next door, she jumped at the chance. Opening the door that connected bedroom to dressing room, she could see his workboots, his gloves, a charcoal and dust covered shirt on the floor before she could see him, shirtless and with his back to her, filling a small basin with water to get rid of even more charcoal down his arms.

Her eyes lingered on his back for a second. The dim light made the many little scars and nicks of their adventures almost dissappear, but her hands could remember feeling them even in the darkest of nights – stroking his back when he woke from yet another nightmare, holding on to him during nicer times in their bed. She got lost in thought, staring at him, until a quiet voice brought her back to reality.

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Going in Blind

Pynch Week 2017 Day 4: Fake Dating…more like accidental dating

This was meant to be a one shot but it was getting longer than I expected and I wanted to be able to post on time. So here is part one of two! 

*********

Ronan was laying in bed trying not to think about his date tomorrow night. He didn’t even want to go on the date, he was considering not even going, but Gansey had promised that if he went on this one date he wouldn’t say anything about his street racing anymore. Ronan guessed he could endure one terrible date in order to get Gansey to shut up. All he had to do was show up and be himself and surely the other person would want to end the date early.

Ronan rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow, letting out a groan. Why was he even giving this any of his attention. He kept trying to imagine the person Gansey would think was his type. He was relieved that he had come out to Gansey not long ago and wouldn’t have to sit through a date with a girl at least, but what kind of guy did Richard Campbell Gansey III see as compatible with Ronan Niall Lynch? Ronan groaned again and rolled out of bed. He shoved his feet into his boots and grabbed his jacket and keys off the floor. Halfway through the common room on his way to the front door he heard Gansey call after him.

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jara257  asked:

[slides into ur inbox] how 'bout Robert attending Val's wedding and MC kinda expects him to jusy wear a suit jacket and jeans but he actually cleans up NI CE

YES. YES. 

“Amanda, have you seen my tie?” Shane calls, roughly in the direction of Robert’s guest bedroom. He’s absent-mindedly buttoning the top button of his shirt while simultaneously attempting to get his shoes on and look for said missing tie. It would be easier if it didn’t look like a domestic bomb went off in the living room.

Amanda looks around the corner of the bedroom, one eyebrow raised and crooked grin well in place. “Did you check Robert’s lamp? Headboard maybe?”

Shane pauses and blinks. “Wha-?” and then a much more mortified and wide-eyed, “No, Amanda.”

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||❥ locker room dates (m)

s e o k m i n ! s c e n a r i o

b a s k e t b a l l  p l a y e r ! a u

Originally posted by j1nwoo

word count: 2,677  

genre: smut mixed with minor fluff? 

request: seokmin being a basketball star on the college team and one day he (meaning teammate hoshi) accidentally hits the reader and friendship/fwb starts idk

✎ finally completed this seokmin request :^) i already have another planned for him and it’s a combination of two requests so thank u to the anons who suggested!!


When Kwon Soonyoung had angled his elbow and placed a concentrated palm atop mahogany leather, he certainly didn’t expect the three point shot to bounce right off the rim of the net. It was simply a practice, a mere exercise before the tournament rumbled like a stampede of bulls around the corner. His coffee flecked irises feathered after the basketball’s jump off the net, sharp enamel piercing a soft lower lip as he watched it land directly where it shouldn’t have.

Your head.

Now Soonyoung didn’t mean to imbue the deathly fizzle in your glare, how you grasped the basketball and pulled back a swift leg before booting it toward his chest. It was by all means an accident, his feet lightly shuffling over a polished gymnasium floor as he barely stopped the leather from plastering his flesh poppy red. But what sunk everything even further into murky waters was the basketball team’s star player, Lee Seokmin, sauntering over to check of your state. Soonyoung studied the situation with pupils a thin line, eyelids nothing but tiny slits. You and him were somewhat friends after all, at least enough for Soonyoung to be aware of your heart’s content for Seokmin.

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anonymous asked:

for the sugar daddy au, what is Rhys embarrassed to do for Jack?

i’m not totally happy with this but i wracked my brain and i couldn’t think of a better idea


“Jack….I don’t know about this…” Rhys murmured softly as he smacked the sticky, strawberry gloss against the lips and looked over at Jack with a frown. The lacy, baby pink lingerie shifted softly against his skin as he pushed himself up off the bathroom counter, leaning shyly on the doorframe as he watched Jack fastening the last couple of buttons on his charcoal dress shirt tight against his throat. 

The elegant, turquoise dress that Rhys had ordered with Jack’s blessing was laid out on the bed, alongside a pair of silver shoes that glimmered in the light from the bathroom. The sight of it excited Rhys, but his nerves made him dread actually putting it on. 

Jack’s looked up to his lover’s body at the sound of his voice, letting out a low whistle of appreciation at what he saw. 

Daaaaamn, kitten, you clean up real well. I don’t see any problems from here.” Jack purred as he straightened the cuffs of his shirt, sauntering up to Rhys and placing a broad hand on his hip. 

Mmmm,” Rhys simpered anxiously, cradling his prosthetic hand against his chest, “I’ve just…I haven’t dressed this way in public before…” Despite the tension in his body, he tried to relax into Jack’s hand. It wasn’t Jack he was worried about, after all. Jack’s fingers pet affectionately at Rhys’ skin, sliding sensually underneath the sheer fabric of his underwear. 

“You nervous? Don’t be, Rhys, anyone tries to give you shit then I’ll kick their head in and whizz on their corpse.” 

“Ewww, Jack,” Rhys laughed through a grimace. “Okay, like, I don’t doubt that but…just think I might feel….bad about it?” 

He felt pretty stupid just saying it, especially since it’d been something Jack had wanted to try, and something Rhys had been on board with until some sliver of doubt had penetrated his usual unshakeable confidence. He really didn’t want to ruin their whole night just because he was having cold feet. 

“Bad? Kitten, you don’t have to feel bad about it…I’ve seen you wear stuff like that before, and it’s awesome.” Jack’s hands gradually moved up Rhys’ front, palms tickling over his stomach and up to his chest. 

“Man, I know, I look really good in just about anything I wear,” Rhys managed a smirk, “I’m just kind of….I dunno…” 

Jack’s eyes leveled with Rhys’, flitting over his face, studying him in that way that always made Rhys either nervous or horny, and for a moment he worries that Jack’s going to get pissed about him backing out and fucking up their dinner plans. 

“Tell you what,” Jack instead cupped Rhys’ face, thumbs stroking at the corners of his mouth, “if you like, we can just stay in for tonight. I can get my chefs to—no, wait, I’ll throw something nice and tasty together myself, and you can prance around and look pretty just for me, ‘kay pumpkin? Don’t need to try to impress people who wouldn’t even appreciate you.”

Rhys brightened considerably at the suggestion, throwing his arms around Jack’s neck and bringing him in for an affectionate kiss. 

“Okay, handsome,” Rhys chuckled as he pulled apart from Jack’s lips, “but you better throw dessert in too while you’re at it.”

12 days of 12 | day 5 | Twelve’s Style

I think Twelve has way more outfits than any other Doctor! I would love to see a polyvore of his capsule wardrobe. I don’t actually do Polyvore so here’s what i’ve created. I’ve left out images where he dressed exactly the same in multiple episodes.

Series 8…always in black trousers or black skinny trousers
Stolen suit from Victorian hobo (poor guy)
Magician’s coat lined w/red, black waistcoat, white shirt
Black wool coat lined w/red, purple shirt
Black wool coat lined w/red, charcoal shirt
Tan caretaker coat, black dropped-stitch jumper over white
10’s orange spacesuit???
Magician’s coat lined w/red, black shirt with white and blue polka dots
Magician’s coat lined w/red, white shirt, black tie, white handkerchief
Black wool coat lined w/red, black dropped-stitch jumper 

Series 9…mixing it up with plaid skinnies
Navy wool coat w/red lining, red longjohn henley, white t-shirt, grey plaid skinny trousers
Navy wool coat w/red lining, red longjohn henley, white t-shirt, black hoodie, black plaid skinny trousers
Navy wool coat w/red lining, charcoal hoodie, black sweater, charcoal plaid skinny trousers
Navy wool coat w/red lining, black hoodie, black sweater, black skinny trousers
Wine velvet coat, white shirt, black waistcoat, black skinny trousers

Series 10…professor
Black velvet coat w/blue lining, black waistcoat, white shirt, black skinny trousers
Black velvet coat w/blue lining, charcoal hoodie, navy waistcoat, black sweater, blue t-shirt, charcoal skinny trousers
Black velvet coat w/blue lining, faded purple hoodie, charcoal shirt, red shirt, black skinny trousers
Black velvet coat w/blue lining, black sweater, red shirt, black skinny trousers
Black velvet coat w/blue lining, charcoal cravat, blue waistcoat, white shirt, charcoal trousers
Bronze and brown diving suit
Charcoal and orange spacesuit
Black velvet coat w/blue lining, red shirt, black skinny trousers
Frayed charcoal coat, black waistcoat, white shirt, black skinny trousers
Black velvet coat w/blue lining, black splatter shirt, black t-shirt, black skinny trousers
Black velvet coat w/blue lining, black waistcoat, white shirt, black skinny trousers

Commentary: I was surprised how long it took for him to get to the wine-colored velvet coat since to me that is his most iconic look!  He didn’t wear it until Face the Raven and left it in the confession dial it seems. ):  I love the coats in s10, though, and how their cuffs always have interesting buttons.

Peter is tall, slim, and has a very simple pallete going on here. He wears a lot of dark colors, chiefly black, charcoal, and navy, but uses colors such as deep red and purple to good effect.  All of these color and clothes are pretty interchangeable.

I know a lot of people love the black magician’s coat w/red lining.  I personally think it’s a bit too severe for him, not relaxed and soft enough.  I have a similar opinions about his hair, but that’s for another post.  I really like the velvet coats best of all, but the wool coats w/red suit him as well.  What really surprises me is how well he pulls off a shirt that is buttoned up all the way to the top and really kind of snug at the neck. I tend to prefer those buttons undone, but he goes for a buttoned up look there while leaving buttons undone on his waistcoats and coats instead and totally makes it work.

I love the hoodies paired with the dropped-stitch sweater.  He can add that sweater to any of these outfits unless he’s trying to dress up rather than down.  The blue waistcoat was an amazing choice, one of his brightest choices.  Overall i would love to have this wardrobe but probably would look too pale in so much black and would look pretty bad in the skinnies.  I don’t have the right legs like he does.

tl;dr Peter has an amazing asthetic and looks sexy and ready to rock.