hue mix


I love sketches. I always prefer my sketches to my coloured pieces, so here’s a couple of recent ones I’m particularly proud of.

If I could get away with it, everything I make would be a sketch, but there’s this stigma toward sketches, this false belief that they’re all unfinished and thus unworthy of praise.

Sketches aren’t just a stepping stone to “proper” art, they’re the very first contact with an artist’s vision, the first time an artist brings their hand to the paper and the picture in their head becomes manifest.

And I find that beautiful, to see an image form from nothing is to watch creativity at work, the rest, to me, is just window dressing.

I don’t purport to speak for all artists, I know for a fact there are those who adore painting, mixing hues like some wonderful scientist poring over his magnum opus, but as someone obsessed with lineart, as I expect any comic penciller would agree, sketches are the reason I love to draw.

Proud  [ T.D ]

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader

Request: No lmao I just really wanted to write this.

Word Count: 961

Warnings: None just a whole lotta cute

A/N: This is kinda trash but I’d been trying to fit in the time to write this for weeks. Also, that’s thREE PIECES OF WRITING IN ONE NIGHT like that’s weird mate.

“Lie all you want, but I know what I saw.”

“It was a Halloween costume, I swear.” Tim runs a hand through his raven hair, pushing the stray strands out of his eyes. There were slight bags under his eyes that would have gone unnoticed by any other but they were more than just visible to you now. They made sense.

Of course Tim was a bloody superhero. That would explain the disappearances in the nights and in the evenings. It would explain why Tim is so tired all the time and it would explain all of the last minute cancellations of plans. It would also explain all the scars and bruises that littered his body.

At first, you had assumed that he was cheating on you. But even the idea was a disgrace to yourself let alone your relationship. Tim had been your boyfriend for a little over eleven months and you both knew that there is nothing on this planet more pure than your love for each other. The other assumption you had made was that he had joined some sort of top secret fight club, which, in its own way was kinda sorta correct.

If anything, when you had found the torn and no longer wearable Red Robin suits all collected into a box which was shoved under his bed you had been more excited than anything else. You’re boyfriend is a freaking superhero.


“Seriously, Y/N–”

“Why are you being so defensive, Tim?” You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. A smirk crosses your lips, your eyes meeting his. “It’s actually kinda hot.”

“You’re not mad?” Tim finally gives in as he blushes, placing his strong hands on your hips and pulling you closer into him. His eyes shine underneath the light peering in from the window of his bedroom, the blue hues of his iris’ mixing together to form their own ocean. His skin was almost flawless, a small pimple and a few scrapes and bruises were scattered around yet he was still seemingly the most perfect human being to have stepped foot on this earth.

“You’re Red Robin. If anything, I’m so proud of you.” You rest your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his shirt. A small smile lingers on your lips and your hands rest on his toned biceps. Each and every one of his muscles had become more evident to you now and you could never have known that it was possible for you to be even more attracted to him then you were before. His body aside, he had a heart of gold and bravery far beyond any other his age.

“Really?” He mumbles, nuzzling his nose in your hair. For so long he had been fretting, knowing that he would eventually have to tell you about his alias sooner or later and now that you knew it was as if a large weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. 

“Of course I am,” You say, “You’re so brave, Tim. You’ve saved so many lives and made so many people feel safer. People like you provide the hope that we all need to carry on. Red Robin and Batman and Nightwing and all the other people who fight to keep people like me or people like my neighbours or friends are the ones who give us that sense of security. It’s like–it’s like you’re a ray of sunshine in a windowless room, you know? And I don’t think there’s anyone else as proud of their boyfriend as I am of mine.”

Tim hums, his chest vibrating against your skin. His hold on you only grows tighter as you pull back slightly so that you can look at him. Your fingers tangle themselves in Tim’s soft hair, his eyelids fluttering at the feeling. A smile plays on his lips, one that made you weak at the knees. You could only hope that Tim didn’t notice your balance wavering.

“Thank you, Tim. For everything.”

“No. Thank you, for understanding.” Tim brings a hand up to cup your cheeks, his eyes adoringly gazing into yours. He closes the space between you, bringing his soft lips to yours. This was definitely not the first time you had kissed each other but it was definitely just as amazing. You both could feel the trust and the honesty that flowed through the kiss in soft waves as you held each other with such gentle yet strong touches.

You pulled away, your foreheads still touching. Tim mirrored your grin, his hand now resting underneath your chin. It still surprised him, how beautiful you are and just how lucky he was to be the one to kiss you whenever he felt like it. The scent of his cologne that filled your senses made you feel dizzy as it was and to add to that the aftermath of the kiss also had the same effect. At least you knew that if you fell, Tim would be right there to catch you.

“In all seriousness,” Tim smirks cheekily, his eyebrow slightly raised and his bottom lip between his teeth. “Do you know what my suit is made out of?”

“Don’t even.” You playfully glare at him, trying your best to suppress the smile that creeps onto your lips because of his dorkiness. His gaze was teasing and his smirk was as distracting as the scent of Alfred’s freshly baked brownies.

“Boyfriend material.” A playful grin is plastered onto Tim’s lips. You giggle as he chuckles, the vibrations of his chest sending tingles down your spine. You were both happier in this moment than you any other you could name. And Neither of you would change a single thing.

“What are you? Five?”


Time is a slippery devil – our lives are sudden.

      They come and go, like… like a Summer Shower. 


Request: Pennywise x reader: A girl (whatever age) has an obsession with dead things and enjoys taking pictures of them. Pennywise discovers this odd girl and her obsession with the grotesque. What does he say/do?

A/N: Instead of doing headcanons for this request I decided to do a full fic because I thought the idea was wonderful, thus needed my full attention :) Sorry it took so long to post, I hope you enjoy! 

Words: 3.7 K +

Warning: Gore

The forest behind your house was calm, the trees waving slightly in the October breeze. You had your camera strapped to your neck, fingers dancing lightly over the cool metal, concentrating on finding something worth taking a picture of. Your mind trailed back to last Friday, the evening while everyone was either at the local theatre or playing the arcade—away from the woods of which you were hidden in.

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boy of dreams - gd

soulmate!grayson au

a/n: so uh this is a thing???? this is the first thing i’ve written about grayson ever (and the first of three things i’ve already written about him) but by no means am i done writing about 5sos, im just waiting for some inspiration to hit :-) since this is the first thing i’ve written outside of 5sos, please let me know what you think!!

word count: 2,137

Passing faces, a lasting impact.  Even in a crowded place, subconsciously, you were destined to meet.  But outside of vivid thoughts in a dazed state?  That’s an entirely different story.

Soulmates, the idea of them scared you.  Over 7 billion people spanning across the globe and one was supposed to be your perfect match? What if they’re across the country or on a different continent, separated by thousands of miles of land and ocean?  “If they’re really your soulmate, that won’t matter, sweetie.” You mother’s words rang in the back of your head, her sugar sweet voice danced tentatively around such a serious subject when you were younger.  Now though, after years of curious gossip with friends about the subject, you know that this isn’t necessarily the case.  Yes, everyone has a soulmate, but the chance of crossing paths with them was not guaranteed.  And you couldn’t do anything about it.  

Ever since that first conversation with your mom as you sat on your childhood bedroom, eyes wide, inquiring about this foreign concept of one single person that was supposed to be with you forever and ever, you had trouble sleeping at night when your head hit the pillow.  

“You don’t know who this person is at first, but after you see them in person for the first time, maybe at school or at the playground or the store, their face is stuck in your brain.  Little glimpses of them come to you throughout your life, but you don’t see their face until you actually see it in person.  Once you see them, they’ll be in your dreams forever.”

Her voice trailed off, fading out slightly towards the end of her statement, content with her explanation.  It was obvious that she’s been constructing her remarks for some time, waiting for you to question the subject.

“Forever?” your gleaming wide eyes looked to meet her comforting ones, eyebrows raising in the process.

“Forever,” her soft smile assured you.

From that moment on, you dreaded sleep.  What if you had already missed something important, some major detail that would tell you who the person you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with?  What if you never get to go beyond small scattered details that bounced from dream to dream, never really seeing their face? Alone forever with constant reminders flooding your brain each time you head hit the pillow.  


Blues hues mixed into purples leading to where pink clouds lined the sky thanks to the sun’s setting rays. Yellows met the hills along the horizon almost as delicately as the touch of a tanned hand that met your left thigh, the thumb ghosting over the hem of the soft material that laid there.  The press of fingers into your smooth skin was firm, yet soft, warm, yet absolutely electrifying, and foreign, yet all too familiar at the same time.  Your skin seemed to be burning to the touch, jolted with an unfamiliar energy, but still, you didn’t think once about moving from the cool teal metal of the hood of the car beneath you.

Night was about to fall, evident from the comforting silence and dark shadows cast from the glowing embers that laced each cloud in the sky overhead.  Colors emitted and danced along your skin, meeting what looked like a mixture of flowing watercolors with similar hues that sat permanently on the tanned leg pressed into yours.  The longer you stared at the piece of art that adorned his bare thigh just underneath the black material of his shorts, the more you could’ve swore that this sight was prettier than the setting sun and rolling hills that lined the horizon.

You woke up to the rather obnoxious sound of your phone ringing beside your head on the arm of the couch, your nap cut short as you forced yourself to wake from the dazed state.  The familiar name of your best friend was scrolled out in plain text across the screen, a twinge of annoyance setting over your entire body now that your dream was cut far too short.

“Go look out the window!! The sunset is insane!!” her shrill voice rang through the speaker.

“That’s what you woke me up for?” you begrudgingly question, pulling yourself up off of the soft cushion.  "I was just dream-“

Your thoughts immediately slammed on the breaks, no words continued to flow from your mouth as you reached the window overlooking the fields that were west of your house.  

"Dreaming?! We’re you dreaming about him?!”

Despite the badgering your right ear was receiving through the phone, you remained silent, jaw slightly agape as your eyes widened at the colors displayed in front of you.  No two sunsets were the same, each night bringing a different combination of beautifully mixed colors that painted at the sky like it was a canvas.  You looked to the sky from this spot countless times and every night would hold an entirely new work of art in front of your eyes.  But this one?  This one looked strikingly similar to the one just previously depicted in your dream as you willed your mind to absorb any and every detail imagined.  

Maybe he was looking at the same gorgeous brushstrokes of blues and pinks and yellows bleeding and erupting violently across the same sky.


Green foliage surrounds you, the piercing rays emitting from the sun in the clear blue sky lighting up the dark leaves that cover overhead, instantly bringing a comforting warmth to your skin.  Wild yellow flowers litter the ground around you from within the overgrown grass that tickles your legs as you make your way through.  

Two strong, tanned arms instantly wrap around your torso, tension rising in your body only for you immediately relax into the touch.  The contact is unfamiliar, yet strangely enough feels like home as soon as you are wrapped in the warmth that comes with a bare chest pressing into your back and two sun kissed arms encircling your waist, lifting your feet slightly off the ground.  Infectious laughter fills the open air of the field in which you find yourself.  The sound itself is sweet like honey, loud and boisterous, yet sincere.  From that second, you’re sure you could never get tired of hearing it.  A softer giggle escapes his lips into your right ear, a pair of smooth lips and hot breath splaying over the outer shell.  His lips move to just below your ear and down the side of your neck, soft and delicate as they moved across your skin.

Desire burns from within your chest.  Your heart full, yet aching.  You want nothing more than to know him beyond just dreams of vivid details, to hear the beautifully sweet sound of his laughter fall from what feel like his perfect lips, and to feel them on yours.


The strong summer sun beats down and finds your exposed back as you lay out on the beach blanket, feet absentmindedly digging at the warm sand just beyond the blue fabric beneath your body.  Despite the crowded environment of people soaking up the sun on the only day with good weather for the week, you found yourself in your own world, entranced by the writing scrawled on the open pages of the book at your fingertips.  The dark frames of your tinted sunglasses sat low on the bridge of your nose, the combination of ocean mist and sweat making them occasionally slip farther down as your peered through at the inked words.

Children raced around to your right, running back and forth to the tide with their parents to bring small buckets of water back to their towels where the construction of a sand castle was underway.  An older couple behind you began chattering about the contents of the cooler that sat between their chairs, noticing that their drinks were getting warm in the sweltering summer air.  Their chattering seemed to fade into white noise when paired with the sound of waves crashing onto the shore.  Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, the only thing in your focus being the beautifully poetic strings of printed words.

What you neglected to notice, now that the book was open and your shaded eyes absorbed each line of writing, was the soccer ball that was kicked very far wide of the makeshift goal posts of a black backpack and a balled up towel.  It only came into focus when it was right in front of you, just after knocking into your left hand, which ended in the pages of the book bending slightly as they hit the sand.  

The sun was blocked, a shadow casting over your body, before you knew what was happening.  A tall body stood in front of you, feet staying put in front of where the binding of the book laid face up, soccer ball retrieved from the sand, sitting firmly right in front of him as he passed it back and forth lightly between his bare feet.

“I’m so sorry about that! My brother clearly isn’t the better soccer player out of both of us,” rushed words flow from his mouth, but you don’t look up right away, reaching for your book first, sparing it from the countless grains of sand that are now practically embedded into each page.  Your eyebrows rise slightly when his hand met yours on the binding, his legs crouched as he knelt on one knee, hand extends outwards with your book between his long fingers.  You glance up from behind your sunglasses, eyes slowly raking across his bare legs, enjoying each gaze at toned and tanned skin, before settling just below the leg of his yellow swim trunks.  Watercolored markings are just visible below the hem of the fabric; the colors seemingly more vibrant now than they previously were in your dream.
Your fingers reach up to flip the glasses up from where they sit comfortably on the bridge of your nose to on top of your head as your sit up slightly, eyes wide as you move your gaze from his upper leg past his bare chest quickly until you reach his face.

“It’s you.”

Your voice is hoarse, softer than intended on the crowded beach, but he hears you regardless as his words match yours in that moment.  Your hand lurches forward at an agonizingly slow pace, fingers bending as they approach the art placed on his thigh.  They come close to his tanned skin, but refrain from touching.  Your eyes shoot up again, actually meeting his eyes for the first time before scanning over his face as you take in every feature you possibly can.  Being able to see his face, know him beyond vague details, you want to soak up any and every aspect of him you possible can, from his bright eyes that beautifully reflected the rays of the sun that beamed down on you both to his light pink lips that hung slightly agape.  

“I’m Grayson,” his lips moved deliberately with each word he spoke, his voice louder than his previous statement, a small smile forming on his face.  You’re positive you could fall in love with the way his face lit up when the corners of his lips turned slightly upwards alone.

“Y/N,” you breathlessly utter as you continue to stare into his eyes in disbelief.
Grayson sits down in the sand at the front of your towel, seemingly forgetting his aforementioned brother and the soccer ball that now saw a few inches away.  His fingers brush over the tattoo that sits on his left thigh, now aware that it’s how you knew.  Something so special already now has added meaning to each marking.

“How’d you know it was me?” you question lightly, a slight laugh falling from Grayson’s lips, sending you back into your dream with his lips gently brushing against your neck.  His hand reaches over to the book that sat at the corner of the fabric, grains of sand falling out from between the cover and title page.  A slight laugh mixed with a sigh falls from your lips.  Of course you had to have this book with you in his dream.

“And that laugh,” Grayson lowers his voice, almost speaking to himself, “there’s no way I could forget that laugh.”

A blush rushed to your already pink skin, the sun and this beautiful boy working together to raise color to the tops of your cheeks. 

“You’re just as beautiful as I dreamt you were,” Grayson noted, his eyes meeting yours, hand slowly moving to yours, fingers eventually intertwining as his moved to slot between yours.

“Grayson, you never saw my face in your dream,” you state, eyes falling to where you were connected.  A content sigh fell from his lips.

“Still beautiful.”

Color Chart: Tetrad

When I paint I like to make color charts like this.

This one is incomplete though because it does not include tones. Tones are what you get when you mix different grays into a hue. (I also intentionally left out mixing diagonals as well.)

Often people forget to think about tones. It’s counter intuitive to think about them because most artists improvise tones. Typically grays aren’t considered their own thing by a lot of people, painters don’t even bother to buy tubes of gray pigment. But managing grays well makes a world of difference.

It’s good to a note that adding gray to a pigment changes the color in a way that is different than mixing and white/black into a hue.

Grays are important because they can help with atmospheric depth and modeling forms. Also if you manage them well you get access to a lot of options for creating color variation while having more control over value. Sometimes a well planned tone can make a world of difference.

I didn’t make a tonal chart here because tetradic complementary scheme is already bit complex. But if I want to make tones, all I would do is mix a hue with grays of different values.

I hope I’m making sense here…

I just want to say to all the black women, no matter what shade, hue, mix, or contrast; no matter if the grade of hair is long, short, silky, coarse, thick, smooth, curly, spiked, or weaved: I Don't care. Y'ALL ARE THE SINGLE MOST POWERFUL, STRENGTHENING, RESILIENT, ALL-INSPIRING, TIMELESS, MOST PRECIOUS, LIFE GIVING, SOUL REVIVING, AND JUST OUT RIGHT THE SINGLE MOST GORGEOUS WOMEN EVER ! Y'all can't be mimicked, y'all can't be broken, and y'all could never be replaced. YOUR WORTH IS UNMATCHED IN THIS WORLD. Thank you for nothing more than simply being a black woman; PERFECTION.
Top Hat - John Constantine x Reader

This fic was written as a part of the DC Valentine Exchange, so it’s super fluffy and adorbs. It is also my first John Constantine fic. Enjoy! 

Warnings: None

Words: 1597

You let out a sigh of relaxation as you shut the large, wooden door of the House of Mystery. Rough didn’t come close to describing the day you had at the lab and you were so ready to spend the evening cuddling up with your mystical occult detective boyfriend.

Dropping your bag and coat into the hall closet and you head for the kitchen to grab a snack. The lunch break you had been looking forward to earlier managed to slip through your fingers thanks to an unexpectedly overloaded schedule.

While heading down the hallway, you finally notice how quiet the house is. 

“John?” You called out hoping to get a response. 

A few moments pass and you call out again, receiving silence in reply. You can’t help but feel a little sad that John isn’t here. After all it is your fifth Valentine’s Day together, you don’t really expect any large declarations of love, but you didn’t think that he would skip out on the classic movie marathon that you planned last week on purpose. Standing you up was one thing, but standing up Ginger Rogers was crime in and of itself.

Once you reach the kitchen the small frown that was gracing your face turns up into a smile. Sitting on the counter is a large crystal vase with a bouquet of oriental lilies and white carnations that was definitely bigger than the microwave adjacent to it.

After turning your attention from the large mixed bouquet, you catch sight of a small card leaning against the vase. You pick it up and turn it over in your hand to read.


         I know this is bloody rotten luck, but there’s been an emergency with The League.   From the description, it doesn’t sound like it should take very long. I PROMISE that I WILL be back in time to spend what should be a fantastic evening with you, some egg rolls, and Ms. Rogers and Mr. Astaire. If anything goes bugger all, I’ll let you know.

                               With Love,


Feeling a little less sad than you were five minutes ago, with the promise that John would indeed get back soon you set out to make a snack to tide you over until John got home.

With all the accoutrements of your snack laid out on the counter, you set to work. Once you have a large scone in the toaster oven to warm through, you fill a large kettle with water and move it to the stove top. You plop your Earl Grey tea bag into one of John’s Liverpool F.C. mugs and sit tight.

The water comes to a boil with an airy whistle coming from the kettle. You poor the water into the well-worn mug and set a timer. Just after the toaster oven lets you know that the scone is sufficiently warmed through.

You place it on the plate and split it in two, dolloping a bit of cream and jam onto each side. After you’ve set everything back in the fridge and grabbed the milk the timer goes off. You fish out the bag with a spoon and chuck it into the trash. All it takes is a splash of the cool liquid to make it perfect for your tastes.

Grabbing the plate laden with your scone and the mug, you head for the library. You perch you plate on the coffee table closest to the fire and head up a ladder to retrieve a book. Nothing really tickles your fancy, but you pull a book on prominent witches in Europe just for shits and giggles.

After you finish your snack you settle down on the couch and begin to read. After about a chapter or so of such riveting material you can feel your eyes beginning to droop.

A nap isn’t such a bad idea, you think, so you set the book on your chest and sink further into the couch.

You think something is touching your face. You’re still in that lovely sleepy state where you could easily slip back into a pleasant dream.

You think you’re almost back to that amazing place, when you definitely feel a tap on your forehead.

“Y/N. Love, wake up.”

Tap. Tap

“Oy, If you don’t wake up I’ll eat all of the Sweet and Sour Chicken myself.”

Tap. Tap.

You flail your hands above your head in a wild swinging motion.

“Alright, alright I’m up. Stop poking me please.”

Your arms stretch out above your head, and you hear a few joints crack. The room is definitely much darker than when you fell asleep.

“What time is it?” you ask with a yawn.

John looks back at you with a sheepish grin and a scratch of his neck.

“Just about 4:30 I believe.”

You stare up at him in surprise.

“4:30….in the morning?”

“Uh, yeah.”

All it takes is a second of contemplation before you continue.

“You are so lucky that I’m starving.”

Standing up from the couch, you grab his hand and start walking toward the kitchen. You stop short when you don’t see any food on the table.


“Eating at the table is so boring.” He pulls you out the side door. Once you both are outside he turns to you and begins to mutter an incantation. You both begin to rise from the ground. When you are up high enough to be even with the roof you see a blanket stretch out with the take away containers spread out all around.

John gently lowers you onto the roof and you move to take a seat. He lands with a thud right beside you, holding out a pair of chopsticks.

You grab them and a container of Mu Shu Pork while John goes for the chicken.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up here,” you say easily grabbing a piece of meat. “I forgot how calming it is to just look out at everything.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to relax after the bloody mess that was that last mission with The League.”

“You wanna tell me about it?”

“Only if you’re truly interested.”

You make a motion with your arm urging him to continue, and he jumps into the tale. Every so often you would swap containers, each of you getting an even mixture of the meal.

Well after you both have finished the food you can tell John’s story is wrapping up.

“And that’s when Swamp Thing deflected the blow, but sent Batman flying through the air landing ass first in a pile of primordial ooze. He was covered in it. I almost missed my opportunity to swoop in and save the day cause I was laughin’ so hard, love. Thought I was goin’ to piss myself. It was great,” he said with a chuckle.

You smile and lean your head on his shoulder, staring out at the beginnings of the sunrise.

“Sounds like you have a marvelous time. I’m glad you came back unscathed though.”

He tilted his head to give you a small peck on the forehead.

“I’ll always come back to you, love. I was meant to be the thorn in your side.”

Both of you laugh at the comment, and settle into a comfortable silence.

You are well on your way to getting lost in the pink and orange hues that begin to mix with the inky black of the twilight sky, when John clears his throat. Slowly you turn back to face him and raise your eyebrow in silent question.

“I know this has probably been a pretty rotten Valentine’s Day for you, love. What with me gallivanting all over the place with The League and showing up well after the day was actually over. I want to apologize for that.  Truly I do, but sitting out here with you and this Chinese takeaway has been pretty damn great. And I know we’ve done this exact same thing dozens of times before, but it’s one of my favorite things to do. Just to sit back and relax with you.

“I have come to realize that I love you so much, and I want to spend as many more nights as I am able up here on this roof staring out at the sunrise with you at my side. I’m rambling a bit, but I guess what I am trying and failing to spit out is, Y/N would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

John snaps his fingers and a small black box appears in his hand. Nestled inside is a beautiful engagement ring, a simple black opal surrounded by tiny sapphires and set in silver.      

You can’t help but gasp as your eyes land on the ring. “Yes, John yes! I would love to marry you!”  A giggle escapes from you as you see a huge grin spread across John’s face.

“That’s bloody fantastic!” He takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto your finger. After a second of holding your hand he leans in for a kiss. One that is so sweet and loving you don’t really know what to do with yourself other than smile into it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love. I hope you had a great day.”

“John, I don’t think anything could top what happened today. I love you so much.”

You lean in peck his cheek and lay your head on his shoulder. You can’t help but think how amazing it will be to spend the rest of your life with wonderful man.

Obvious Feelings (2)

Originally posted by shitmtm

(gif cr; respectful owner)

You and Changmo are roommates and he realises he likes you, so he confides to Beenzino about this and Beenzino suggests that changmo confess, however, you’re completely oblivious // part 1

(Requested) // word count; 788

Changmo x Reader - A/F

You let go of the game controller and moved away from the tv, bored out of your mind and tired of playing games you left the room and decided to entertain yourself. The beach house you rented with your friends was nice, the ocean clearly visible when you stepped onto the balcony or simply glanced out the window.

The air was warm and calming, lifting any stress you had when you first arrived. You weren’t too keen on coming on this holiday but you were glad you did, you got to spend time with your friends, make new memories and just simply enjoy life. One thing, however, that continued to linger on your mind was your friend Changmo.

Changmo hasn’t spoken to you since he confessed his feelings and no matter how many times you texted or called, he did everything he could to avoid you. You thought going on this holiday would give you a chance to talk to him, yet he still managed to run away.

The sun that was setting beyond the horizon was beautiful, the hues of oranges mixed with pinks that burned the sky made you smile. You leant against the railing as you watched the sun gradually start to hide as your thoughts started running wild, as always.

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Sam liked watching sunsets. Always had - whether it be through their crappy motel window, or through the back window of a car moving in the opposite direction. He always thought of Dean when he watched them, the bright pinks and purples mixing in with oranges and blues. He always looked over and saw his brother whenever he got the chance to watch them, got to see the uncontrolled awe on his face. Sunsets were their thing, a moment that they always got to share together, something John or a hunt could never take away from them. The first time Sam watched a sunset without Dean was at Stanford, with Jess, because she took him to the beach and curled up around him on the samd. He didn’t notice how dark it was getting until it was too late - until those pink and orange hues mixed on Jess’s skin, and all he could think of was if Dean was watching the same sunset somewhere else in the country.

Our First and Last (Ch. 9)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | 

Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 (Final)

  • Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (MAIN) | Park Jimin x Kim Taehyung | Jung Hoseok x Min Yoongi | Kim Namjoon x Kim Seokjin
  • Genre: angst and fluff, soulmate au, scifi
  • Words: 4,434
  • Description: “Whether we remember it or not, our love will always be there long after our physical bodies cease to exist. It’ll make a home in the colorful swirl of the gravitational field of gaseous stars; the image of the full moon on a clear night sky, representing the feeling of longing between distanced lovers; the pastel colors of the sky slowly lighting up at dawn and the warm hues of sunset mixed with the cool toned reflection of water. It’ll manifest in the sound and smell of rain, the strong, continuous flow of waterfalls, and perhaps in the stories that are passed down from generation to generation.”- Jimin

Days in lab were consuming most of your summer. Graduate classes would start in early fall, but that wasn’t until September. You had finally completed a successful attempt of the experiment Jungkook had assigned you, and were feeling much better about wasting so much material (aka convincing yourself it wasn’t all in vain).

Jungkook was always busy, and seeing him after that “visit to his apartment” was surprisingly not as awkward as you had originally prepared for. Granted you barely saw him around anyways, but when you did, the neurosurgeon had just acted like nothing out of the ordinary had happened and continued treating you the way he had before, but you were somehow less intimidated by his status.

It’s not until now, that you find yourself sitting in his office once again, discussing more theories and the next steps of the project.

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SWF 10

“Sailing with Fire”

Rated M for smut.

Summary: Lucy is in desperate need of a break from the mage life and embarks on a two week cruise alongside her partner, Natsu. What they don’t know is that it's a cruise designed specifically for couples. With no other choice than to pretend they are married, the two try to enjoy the cruise the best they can all the while dealing with uncharted feelings.

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Natsu woke up, a wide grin immediately gracing his face. For the first time in nearly a week, the boy had finally woken up without his stomach feeling like absolute hell. To further add to his happiness, he turned his head and found Lucy’s head resting over his arm while her own was draped over his chest and her legs straddled his. The corners of her lips were tugged upwards in a peaceful smile.

Natsu recalled the day before. He had gotten into a heated argument with Lucy which led to their confessions and nearly losing their virginities. It had ended before he could take off his pants, but they were close. And he sure as hell wouldn’t mind trying again today.

Despite this, Natsu wasn’t going to bring it up. Though Lucy had assured him that she wanted it just as much as he did, her feelings over the matter could’ve changed overnight and he didn’t want to pressure her in any way. If she wanted it again, he would happily oblige. If not, that was okay too.

Natsu smiled as he gently brushed golden locks of hair out of Lucy’s face and planted a soft kiss over her cheek. The girl wiggled and stretched her arms above her head before her brown eyes fluttered open. A smile and a blush graced her face at the sight of Natsu leaning his face close to hers.

“Morning,” Natsu greeted with a small smirk.

“Good morning,” Lucy replied. Her eyes darted to his lips and back to his eyes. She had spent the entire night dreaming about kissing those lips. She was about to pull him towards her to steal a kiss when something dawned on her. “Wait, you aren’t sick?”

“Nope!” the boy answered, his grin growing. “The boat is completely settled! It won’t rock at all!”

“That’s great! I was getting tired of having to drag you to the lobby every morning!”

“Well I was tired of throwing my guts out into the toilet, so let’s just say it wasn’t a good time for the both of us.”

“Sounds good to me.” Lucy sat up with another stretch. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“We hike to the volcano!”

“You mean hitch a ride on the service bus, right?”

“Nope, we’re hiking!”

“You want to hike to the top of a volcano? Are you crazy?” Lucy asked in bewilderment. “No. There is no way in hell I’m hiking that far.”

The corner of Natsu’s lips curled upwards into a smirk. “Is that so? If I remember correctly, I agreed to go on a two week cruise with you on a b-boat. I’ve suffered with motion sickness every day, I think you can spare just one day without transportation.

Lucy opened her mouth to argue but came up short. With a heavy sigh, the girl reluctantly nodded. “Alright. Hiking it is.”

Natsu gave a smug grin and placed a kiss on the girl’s forehead. “Thought you’d see it my way.”

Lucy rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him before getting up and grabbing a change of clothes. Since they were going on a horrendously long hike up treacherous hills and bends, she didn’t bother showering. Her cheeks were a light pink hue as she removed her clothes, leaving her in her underwear. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before and considering she was going to have sex with him the prior night, she figured she should be comfortable enough to change in front of him.

Natsu’s eyes slowly travelled up and down her body, lingering over her ample chest and her curvaceous hips. His lips twitched upwards into a satisfied grin as he hardened. To think that their friendship had evolved into this… He couldn’t be any happier.

But for now, they had a volcano to see. Perhaps when they returned they could continue what they left off on yesterday.

Lucy, seeming to have the same thoughts, slipped into a pair of gym shorts and a pink sports bra, which she then covered with a loose tank top. Natsu wondered why girls bought gym shorts that were short enough to look like underwear but didn’t question it. They were sexy and he liked being able to see the very bottom of her bum. Though, he didn’t like other guys being able to see it- which they always took to their advantage, staring at her like hungry wolves.

Lucy hummed as she combed through her golden locks and tied it into a high pony. Knowing that they were going to hike sometime during their trip, the blonde did pack a pair of tennis shoes along with her heels just for this occasion.

After finishing getting ready and eating a decent sized breakfast, the two traveled down the trail towards the volcano. It took them twenty minutes just reaching the base of the volcano, Lucy didn’t want to even think about how long it would take to reach the top.

The two gave each other an eager grin and laced their fingers together before beginning their journey. There was a carved trail that spiraled up to the top. It was rocky and steep and if they weren’t careful, they were sure to fall.

For the first two hours, they walked without growing tired. Lucy was rather proud of herself. She didn’t train with her spirits for nothing. Her stamina and durability had increased tenfold since joining Fairy Tail and it was really showing.

After their third hour, however, Lucy was a mess. Sweat dampened- no, drenched- her clothes and dripped down her skin. They were only a little more than halfway there. Luckily for her, the people that carved the trail were prepared for this and also carved out rest stops each quarter of the way. They could just take a break when they were three quarters of the way there.

And that was exactly what they did. Lucy plopped onto the mossy ground with heavy pants. Natsu followed suit, sitting beside the girl. Though he didn’t display it so much as his partner, the dragon slayer was admittedly growing tired as well. But he still preferred this over riding in any type of damned transportation.

Lucy stared into the sky, which was a beautiful canvas of mixed hues of blue, purple, pink, and hints of orange. Stars weren’t shining in the sky yet but soon enough they would arrive. She was anxious about hiking on a steep hill without adequate lighting but didn’t think too much of the matter.

“We should’ve drove here,” Lucy muttered. Her heartbeat was resuming its normal rate and her breathing had calmed.

“No way,” Natsu replied, lying beside her. “That would’ve been more dangerous.”

“How in the world would it have been more dangerous?”

“This road is narrow and rocky. One wrong move and they’ll go rolling off the side.”

“The same could be said for us.”

“No because I’ll be able to save us. I’ll be useless in a magic mobile.”

Lucy supposed he had a point. Not the best argument, but it worked. Her faced scrunched in disgust as she felt her previously loose-fitting tank top clinging to her skin thanks to the sweat that coated her skin. With a disgusted grunt, the blonde took off her tank top, leaving her in her sports bra.

Natsu’s head turned and landed on her chest. Even a sports bra could barely contain her breasts. He licked his lips.

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anonymous asked:

Hi! I really love your Jonsa fics! Thank you for sharing your work. So...I can't get enough of Sansa sewing Jon's clothing fics. If you're still taking prompts, I was wondering if you could write a fluffy show verse Sansa sewing Jon's "wight hunter" outfit?

I’ll never forgive myself for this, she thinks to herself as she pulls the thread through the dove-grey wool. I’m enabling him. He shouldn’t be going out there… As if I could stop him. 

And that’s it, isn’t it? She can’t stop him. Ever since they reunited, she’s been trying and trying to stop him, to protect him, to save him from himself. From his own courage, his honor, his forthrightness. She tried to warn him about Ramsay, she tried to stop him from treating with Cersei, she tried to stop him from drawing Littlefinger’s focus. She’s never stopped him. It’s only ever been through her safety nets that she’s been able to save him — the knights of the Vale, Brienne, her cache of Littlefinger’s files…

She’s not going to stop him from marching out beyond the Wall to draw out the wights. He’ll go regardless of what she does. The only idea she’s come up with to keep him home is to break his legs. But if she does that, she may as well break his soul as well.

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So Many Ways to be Wicked | Part 2 | C.D.V

Originally posted by arianagrenades

Requested?: Yes. 
Word Count: 1,348
Pairing: Carlos De Vil / Reader

Wanna start from the beginning?:
Part 1


    The ancient wood that resided on the isle was never empty, always stirring. Scrawny, dark pelted squirrels nestled beneath the spindly undergrowth and gangs of trouble-making kids crept among the trees’ thin trunks. Creepers climbed their rough bark, grasping desperately for daylight. Their leaves rustled in the stale wind, whistling a grim tune. Vines swung from the trees like monkeys arms, grasping at passersby. 
    Abundant berries that grew in cloves of vibrant reds or blues clustered by worn footpaths, poisonous to the touch, and yet appetizing to an unsuspecting victim. 

    A girl ran through the lovely and deadly vegetation. Thorns pierced her skin, drawing blood, and her bare feet were caked with ebony soil and dried blood. A ratty t-shirt hung from her bony shoulders and jeans slipped from her angular waist. Her eyes were hollowed and cheeks, gaunt, and the girl was running on little more than sheer will. The little belongings she had managed to smuggle across to the isle had been stripped from her by marauders with glinting knives. 

    The girl knew where she was going, almost by heart, and yet she had never seen the place in her life. 

    Her feet petered to a stop, skimming the surface of the dirt. Her chest heaved and the breaths that puffed from her chapped lips were icy and came in bursts of clouds. Her sharp eyes snapped from the sky, where inky darkness grew, to the clearing that parted the trees just in front of her. 

    So close. She was so close. 

    And yet she found that her feet couldn’t move. She could see the smoke curling from the chimney over the treetops, but she couldn’t move. She wasn’t afraid. This much, she knew. The girl had prepared herself for this moment her whole life and had mapped out every situation and turn in conversation that might occur. 

    But spotting the pale orange glow of lights in the cottage window, she could feel a ball rising in her throat, tightening her chest. 

    And that was when the door was thrown open. 

    The bang rattled the wood, sending birds flocking from their nooks and squirrels scurrying away. A man, his body bent with age, emerged from the cobbled house. His crooked hands were curled around a knobby cane and his milky eyes searched the air. His nostrils flared once. Twice. And upon the third time, he turned his head and seemed to stare right at her. 

    “[Name]. You’ve come home.” 

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An Saol Idir Linn

A/N: Okay a bit of an introductory chapter but things do start to get a bit more interesting. Do let me know what you guys think and if you’d liked to be tagged!

Chapter 1

One year later…

“There was a guy seeing the flat yesterday, he seems pretty interested in it” you say on the table top as Molly examined a body.

“Do you think he’ll buy it? Do they knew you died there?” She asked not removing her gaze from the body.

You shook your head “No, I don’t think they put it on the home report but if they do move in I’ll keep out the way and not show myself.”

Molly smiled to herself “Why do you go back? Isn’t it hard for you to be in the place where you were murdered?”
She curiously asked before realising how terrible the question sounded “Oh sorry! I didn’t-”

You cut her off “It’s alright and to answer your question its not hard to go back…something always drags me back to the house. I don’t know why” you admitted.

Molly placed down her scalpel and let out a sigh “Well I think-” she cut herself when you disappeared. Sherlock, John and Greg walked in moments later. ‘So that’s why she left’ Molly thought to herself.

“Hello Molly, talking to yourself again?” Sherlock raised a brow and the woman narrowed her eyes at him. The people in the room couldn’t see you so you took the opportunity to flick Sherlock’s ear and he flinched a little.

Molly tried to conceal her laughter with a cough fully knowing that was you that did that.

You noticed the other man, your jaw slacking slightly…he was the one that was interested in the flat. You slowly walked to stand in front of him and look at him.

Greg felt something off, goosebumps ran up his arms and a shiver went down his spine.

You looked straight into his eyes and it almost seemed like he was looking into yours. They were like being in some sort of transcendence. His eyes were bright and beautifully captivating, brown mixed with hues of gold with tinges of grey and green.

He walked right through you causing you to grimace at the sensation. Greg suddenly felt a shiver go through his body.

Sherlock, John, Greg and Molly hovered over the body on the table as Molly started to explain what had happened. You perched yourself on a tabletop and watched her with a smile. She was brilliant at what she did, so intelligent and kind, it made your heart swell with happiness.

Molly was your best friend since the day you 'came back’. You spent most of your day with her before returning home to your old flat where you died. Molly was the only one you could be around and talk to. You snapped back into reality when the three men left and you appeared again from behind Molly causing her to jump.

“Oh!” She yelled and clutched onto her chest “You need to stop doing that Y/N” she breathed out, lightly chuckling. You could disappear and reappear quickly, people could see you when you fully appeared, you looked just like any other human being but they couldn’t see you when you faded away. You could see them and this was a great advantage, especially to occasionally flick Sherlock’s ear or gently tug his hair when he said something that upset Molly.

“Sorry,” you mumbled “Who’s that man with John and Sherlock? I haven’t seen him around here before”

“That’s Greg! He’s a detective inspector at Scotland Yard” Molly told you and she started to transfer the body back to the fridge.

You nodded “He was the one who came out to see the flat” you told Molly who raised a brow. She put the body away and turned around to you with a small smile.

“Greg’s really nice, if he does move in I think you’ll enjoy his company. Must get pretty lonely for you” she sadly sighed and wrote down some notes. Your gaze fell to the floor, she was right. You didn’t have anyone else apart from her.

“In seven hours it will be one year…” You whispered, swallowing the lump away in your throat.

Molly froze and placed her full attention on you “I’m sorry…” She didn’t know what else to say.

You shook your head and sent her a thin lipped smile “It’s alright, I got a great friend out of it” Molly’s lips tugged upwards and she opened her arms to give you a hug which you gladly accepted.

“I should get back but I’ll see you tomorrow” you pulled away.

“Like every other day” Molly giggled before coming serious “But I’m glad you do, I get pretty lonely around here too, it’s good to have someone to talk to…even if you’re dead”. You rolled your eyes and playfully nudged her shoulder.

“I’ll see you later Molly” you began to walk away from her and fade away but she called you back.

Sending you a sad smile she gazed into your eyes with her own slightly watering “Happy anniversary”.

You sent her a thin grin “Thanks” and faded away into the air.

(I’ve just tagged all the ones that I tagged in 'Oh So Quiet’ hope that’s alright!)

@daydreamer0307 @musingsofophelia @adorablebadger @emeliethetimelady @adventureswithten @cutie1365 @princesspeach212 @damnitman-jamlocked-inthetardis @imayjustbejamesmoriarty

Marichat May: Day 30; Scratch

Nathalie stood there patiently trying not to tap her foot as a sheepish Adrien fidgeted under her gaze. “Now explain to me exactly why you need a list of shops that sell the following,” She lifted up a list of things Adrien had given her when he called asking to be picked up as well as asking her to find shops that sold a whole list of items that she had no idea what use he could possibly have for them.

“High quality chocolates or baked goods containing chocolate but not from the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie, which I know for a fact is one of your favorite places to get baked goods from considering the sheer amount of boxes with their logo on it found in the trash from your room besides Camembert containers.” She begins pushing up her glasses to read off the list.

Adrien scoffed his foot shyly a faint blush on his cheeks. Nathalie was good, like really good at figuring out his favorite foods especially if he wasn’t supposed to have them. “Note to self find a new way to dispose of Plagg’s cheese containers and any boxes from Marinette’s place. Nathalie knows all.” 

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