i just really like using each others' colors as accent colors

In Which You Surprise Yourselves

Peter Parker x Reader

Prompts: “You’re really soft.” “You look incredible in that.” “Can I kiss you?”
Or in this case: touch that sets your nerves on fire.

Summary: Peter asks you to Prom. All of those accidental touches finally peak, building over the years and finally turning into something more. 2.5k words

Peter is 18.

Part I  Part II  Part III   Part IV   Part V  Part VI

Warnings: We gettin’ a little hot and heavy in this one folks. But not cliché, so don’t get too excited, you hear? [Y/N] too good for lovin’ on Prom night. Respect yo self.

Not going to lie, little nervous about this one, so, be nice.

It was the night of Senior Prom. Your nerves were in tangles, stomach doing flips as you took one last look at yourself in the mirror. Initially, you’d gone around telling everyone that you weren’t going to this stupid dance; you didn’t want to go. You’d even made plans with your mom, expressing to her that no one was going to ask you anyway, and you didn’t want to spend the money on the whole dress thing. You had been trying to sell it to yourself. You had every intention of sticking to your guns until Peter had asked you to go with him.

You looked up from your book and over the tray of food in front of you to see Peter standing across the table. His hands shoved into his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet, the headphones around his neck rebounding up and down off his chest in time with his movements. You smiled at him.

“Hey, Pete,” you offered, becoming curious and slightly nervous when his answering smile looked incredibly uncomfortable. You almost wanted to laugh. You were glad you didn’t. He shocked you with the words that tumbled from his mouth.

“So do you maybe want to go to Prom?” The speed at which the words left his lips would have impressed you if you weren’t suddenly a ball of nerves yourself. “You know, with me?”

You probably looked ridiculous: eyes wide as your mouth flopped open and closed a few times before you managed to respond. “Umm, O-OK,” you nodded your head, the prospect of going to a dance with Peter finally working itself into your brain, “yeah, yes, yes.”

He had stopped his bouncing in favor of a smile. “OK, cool.”

“OK.” You were still holding your book awkwardly almost in front of your face, too afraid of moving to put it down.

He gave you a nervous smile, turning his body away from you, stopping again, his hands coming out of hiding and gesturing to the line of people waiting to get their food, “OK, I’m just gonna…” he said before walking away in the direction his shaking hands had motioned.


You couldn’t have hid your smile if you’d tried.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Wow how do you pick color schemes for your art? They're so amazing

It’s a lot of trial and error and practice but I’ll give some tips!

remember, these are guidelines. I’ve broken all of these on purpose at some point or another. it’s important to just have a good reason and to be aware of it!

  • look up color theory, there’s lots of tutorials and explanations

edit!! I’ll also tack on what @thorsens recommended! 

I would suggest for people to check out Josef Albers “Interaction of Color”. It gives a good understanding of how colors work in relation to each other which is very helpful in general. - Thor

  • I go for two contrasting *enough* colors (they don’t have to be exact opposites, but I try to give at least one color of change difference, so like red and yellow can work, but not red and orange or red and purple.)

pink and blue aren’t nessiciarly complete opposites, but there’s not a lot of purple in the piece. There’s enough contrast between the greenish-blue and the bright pink and magenta.

colors close to each other still work, but observe how it changes the mood of the piece!

the peach and yellow and purple work together, but create a softer, calmer tone. This is partially because the colors aren’t as bright, but also because they’re near in both value and color. It make the piece feel cohesive, which was important in this piece as I was highlighting how they interacted and found meaning to the place they were in!

Keep reading

10 Rules Of The Watch

Once upon a time..

Most men with a sense of style know not to match brown shoes with black belts, a pre-tied bowtie or pyjamas in public. I remember my father once mentioning that the only glass a man loves to keep clean is the glass of his watch. When it comes to wearing watches people don’t really care about the rules. On many occasions you will discover men wearing completely inappropriate timepieces to their outfits. Being aware about some watch etiquette will save you from embarrassment, no matter how expensive, casual or formal the occasion is.
Younger gentlemen will eventually begin to appreciate the meaning of classic—–an item that stands the test of time. At some point, these maritime gauges that so many of us wear look like what you’d expect to see on the QEII or Queen Mary or a cargo ship. The will fade out of vogue and when they do, you will be able to cover the succeeding watch with the cuff of your shirt and jacket sleeve.

1. Match your metals & colors
Try and match the metals and the colors of the watch to the rest of the outfit you have on. Note the color of your belt buckles, shoe buckles, rings, collar bars or pins, and cufflinks and choose a watch in a matching metal. Wear yellow gold with yellow gold, and don’t wear a brown band when you’re wearing a black suit. Focus specifically on the boldest parts of the watch; the color of the strap, the color of metal and even the color of the dial.

2. Don’t wear the same watch every day
Even if you only own one nice watch, you shouldn’t wear it every day for several reasons. First, if the watch is a piece that you love, giving the watch a break will make it last longer. Second, one watch is rarely suited to the variety of outfits that a man will wear in a given week. The office, the gym, sporting events, dinners out, and parties all require different clothes and hence different watches. If you wear the same watch daily, chances are that 20-30% of the time it is the wrong watch to be wearing.
Regardless of your budget, if you love wearing a watch, try building up a small collection of reputable watches that suit all the various needs you have during the week, and give you favorite piece the occasional break.

3. Skip the bling
Wearing a diamond encrusted watch is fine if you’re a music mogul, but it has no place in the wardrobe of a well-dressed gentleman. Like an oversized watch, flashy diamonds and jewels are simply a cry for attention. They will distract from the rest of your outfit by drawing all the attention to one point. Most people will be wondering if it’s real, rather than what kind of watch it is. Diamonds and jewels also have the effect of making men’s watches appear more feminine. Unless you’re trying to be the next Eminem, skip the diamonds – with one exception. Some dress watches use very fine diamonds or other stones to accent small details, such as the rim of the dial or the numbers on the face. If the stones are subtle and enhance the overall features of the watch without being ostentatious, then they can find a place in a gentleman’s watch collection. Just remember to wear them in appropriate settings and don’t buy sporting watches, as diamonds are not suited to more casual watches. Finally, it should go without saying that you should never buy a watch with fake stones. If you can’t afford the real thing, skip stones altogether, as they will only cheapen the overall look and make it painfully obvious that you seek the kind of attention diamonds can bring.

4. Wear your watch on the wrist that suits you
The old rule of thumb was to always wear a watch on the non-dominant wrist. The reasoning was that it is the opposite of the dominant hand. Don’t let tradition dictate on which hand you wear your watch; wear it where you find it most comfortable. Like any other garment or accessory, your watch should fit you properly in two key ways. The size of the dial should be proportional to your wrist, and the band should fit snugly but comfortably. A loose band looks sloppy, so take it to your jeweler to have it sized to your wrist.

5. Admire other men’s watches from a distance
Just as you would never touch another man’s wallet, don’t expect to handle his watch. For many men the watch is the only piece of jewelry they own or wear, and they take great pride in keeping it dust free, fingerprint free and well polished. It’s perfectly okay to politely ask to see a watch, but don’t expect him to take it off his wrist. If he offers, feel free to accept, but try to handle it as little as possible and never place it on a hard surface where it could get scratched.

6. Pair watches with outfits appropriately
Just as you wouldn’t sit on the beach in a morning coat, you also don’t want to wear your dress watch sailing. Try and match the type of watch you wear to the activity you’re involved in each day. If you’re unsure what you’ll be doing, pair it with your choice of clothes; sport watches with athletic wear, dress watches with business wear, or a simple Seven Friday with beach wear. If you’re invited to a formal event or gathering and the dress code calls for black tie, attitudes have changed about wearing a watch. Historically it is considered impolite to wear a watch, but the rules regarding black tie have softened to accommodate wearing a simple dress watch with a black face and band if you choose. A pocket watch like U-boat or Bomberg is an alternative. For the rare white tie event, tradition demands that you do not wear a watch at all.

7. Beware the implications of checking your watch
Even though a great watch is one of a man’s ultimate accessories, checking it can have some negative social implications even if that’s exactly the reason you are wearing it!
If you’re on a date, in a meeting, or at a social event, don’t check your watch visibly in front of other people. Just like it’s rude to check your phone at a movie or restaurant, checking your watch shows that you have other things on your mind; things that take precedence over your present company. Unless you’re still young and have a curfew, the only way you should know what time a date is over is when she says goodnight.

8. Wear dark with dark, and light with light
If you’re out during the day consider a lighter colored face such as white or cream. However, at night focus on darker dials such as black, grey or browns. Just like a tuxedo is for evening wear and you wouldn’t wear it to brunch, a dark watch dial should be on your wrist at night, rather than during your 9am tee time at the country club.

9. Never wear a dive watch with a suit
Just because James Bond did it, doesn’t mean you should. James Bond was a spy who might, in fact, jump into a river in a suit at any moment. As far as we can tell, he’s the only one (besides other actors with endorsement deals with Omega) who should wear a dive watch with a suit. Dive watches are bulky, they don’t fit well under a suit jacketand they are a tell-tale sign that you don’t know the rules of watch-wearing…or that you aspire to have your own theme song. The same way that you wouldn’t wear your sunglasses at night, leave the dive watch for casual wear and pair a simple dress watch with your suit.

10. The oversized watch is over 
For the last couple of years, oversized watches have become the norm in men’s style. This popular trend only served one purpose: to scream for attention. An oversized watch dwarfs your wrist, throws off the proportions of your entire outfit, and simply doesn’t “fit” well into a nicely combined outfit.
For a watch enthusiast, those large dials are nothing more than for show. If you want to be taken seriously in the world of horology, stick to watches that fit your wrist.

I will fly with no fear

desc; punk!phil takes care of his boyfriend, dan’s, son while dan is at a meeting. dan’s son comes home from school crying and its up to phil “on some level im deathly afraid of children” lester to save the day.


a/n; thank you to @andromedalester for betaing this 2am explosion of words and dubbing it ‘SO GOSH DANG SUTE’ i love u v much em ty or helping me out <33  

 gender rolls are the only bad type of bread

The door swung open and hit the doorframe with a resonating crack. Phil perked his ears up from his bowl of cereal and looked over, just in time to see Finn crawl onto the couch next to him. The kindergartner snuggled into his arm and Phil made sure to set the bowl away.

Finn almost never touched him, still not understanding why Phil had moved in with him and his father, Dan. He hadn’t expected a smidge of affection this early on – being the stranger, in Finn’s home – and made sure to wrap his tattoo clad arms around the somber boy.

Keep reading

Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart | 1 | Harry Styles

A/N: I seriously almost cried when Harry played this live. I’ve always wanted to hear him sing this song (cause it’s my favorite on Ariana’s My Everything album)! Enjoy!

Originally posted by stylesinthewild

I never thought this day would come, but yet, who does and whoever wants it to? Giving my whole heart to someone again was the biggest leap I’ve ever taken, given my history with love. I didn’t think I was ever going to again, and honestly, I didn’t want to. My walls were built up so high that any man I crossed paths with just kept going, too exhausted to try and climb over it.

But not him.

Not Harry.

He smashed through that damn concrete wall with full force, leaving all of my doubts and insecurities shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. It wasn’t soon before he replaced the monotonous graveyard with a garden of beautiful flowers. Each of them slowing blooming as I fell deeper and harder. It was easy to maintain. No weeds ever sprouted, and not a single flower ever wilted. ‘Arguing’ just wasn’t a word in our dictionary. Every tiny spat we had was usually about petty things like what’s better: cats or dogs? Everyone thought our relationship was a little too perfect, but doesn’t everyone want a happily ever after? I certainly do.

I thought I had mine, walking side by side with the love of my life in a fully grown meadow of the most beautiful flowers. But that’s when I saw it. Out of all the vivid petals resides one dull rose that’s beginning to wilt. The dark red hue has disappeared and had been overtaken by a pale grey. When I look over to my left, I don’t find Harry with his fingers laced with mine like he usually would be. In fact, I don’t spot him in this meadow at all.

And all I begin to find is grey.

* * *

“I don’t know that pizza was pretty tasty, but I think I like the other place better.” (Y/F’s/N) said as we weaved through the thick Chicago crowd on the sidewalk. It was mid-week, about four in the afternoon and people were starting to get off of work, so the sidewalks were growing more populated. The two of us were just doing some light shopping downtown since this was the first day off the two of us had in a while. We wanted to try this new pizza joint further downtown, quite aways from our apartment, and from all this walking I was half tempted just to call a cab.

I looked at her with eyes full of sarcasm as we turned right on the block. “And not to mention that it’s closer,” Just as the sentence left my lips, my shoulder collided with a tall stranger as soon as we rounded the corner. Immediately, I apologized quickly with a small smile, not taking in his appearance, then continued on. I massaged the now tender spot on my shoulder, hearing (Y/F’s/N) snicker. “Geez, (Y/N) watch where you’re going!” Her manicured hand poked my rib.

I swatted it away. “Shut up! Like you haven’t done the same thing.”

Giggling, she changes the subject. “So are there any other stores you want to hit up before we head back home?” I simply shook my head in response. “Good, cause my-”

“'Scuse me, miss?” A tap on my shoulder paired with a velvety voice that certainly isn’t from around here tore my attention away from (Y/F’s/N). When I turn, I’m face to face with a real beauty. It’s the kind that’s intimidating, making one nervous just by a simple look or the smallest gesture. His eyes were the lightest shade of green with hints of brown mixed in near the pupils. They reminded me of summer leaves just starting to obtain their autumn color. His short brown curls blew lightly in the cold Chicago air. Two dimples appeared when he grinned and gestured his outstretched hand. In it, held a button with a familiar red-haired mermaid on it. “Does this belong to you? I think it fell off your bag when we ran into each other.”

“Oh, um-” My brain failed to develop a single sentence, too distracted by those delicate features, and the fact that he looked like he stepped out of a fall fashion magazine with his long black pea coat accented with a dark green scarf, golden boots, silky shirt, and black jeans. Now, I could feel my face turn pink, embarrassed that I couldn’t respond to his first question. (Y/F’s/N) finished it for me.

“Yeah, it’s hers. That thing falls off her bag all the time, so thanks for returning it.” She plucked it out of his palm and gave it to me. I tore my gaze away to pin it back on the lanyard of my car keys. “It sounds like you’re not from around here,” (Y/F’s/N) piped, starting up a conversation, and clearly enjoying this stranger’s company.

“M'not, just visiting.” I can feel those eyes on me as he spoke to her, giving me the occasional glance. My fingers worked slowly, making it seem like I was having a difficult time attaching it, but in reality, I was just hiding the redness spreading across my face. “Here,” It didn’t work, apparently, when his hands come into view. I spotted a small tattoo in the shape of a cross near his thumb. “Those things can be a pain,” He joked with a small laugh, and I responded with the same. I thanked him when he pulled away; “So you ladies live around here then?” His green eyes were on me now. 

“Uh yeah, we live down the road actually.” He smiled again which escalated my nerves. “That’s where we were heading, we are worn out from shopping all day.” 

His face fell a little, but it wasn’t long before he threw up a lop-sided grin. “Well, don’t let me keep you. Have a great rest of your evening.” All I did was nod, then we both started walking in separate directions.

“He seemed to like you.” (Y/F’s/N) stated when we approached our apartment complex. The sky was a pale pink mixed with various shades of orange. I shrugged and opened up the outside door, then headed toward the elevators. She pressed the silver button labeled ten once we stepped inside. “Too bad you shot him down. I think the two of you would have looked nice together.”

“He was just nice.” I retorted a little too quickly when she raised a brow. “Come on, don’t give me that look.“

"Why didn’t you ask him out for coffee or something?" 

"No thanks, I’ll pass,” I replied with a little bite in my tone. The elevator doors slid open, and I rushed out with her trailing behind. 

She fell in step beside before we reached our apartment door. I was fumbling around in my purse for my keys, then struggling to insert it into the lock, eager to avoid this subject altogether. “Every guy isn’t the same (Y/N), and you won’t know that until you give it another go.”

Finally, I unlocked the door, and I piled inside, making a beeline straight for my bedroom, but that doesn’t stop her. It never did. “I really don’t want to talk about this…” Once I reached my bedroom, I quickly made an attempt to shut the door, but her manicured hand caught it mid-swing. “(Y/F’s/N),” My eyes immediately fluttered shut as soon as my voice cracked, my eyes filled up with tears of frustration. “I’m fine, just go-”

“No, you’re not fine! You haven’t been in a long time!” I rolled my watery eyes, and retreated further into my room, tossing my bags onto my bed. Her voice bounced off the cream-colored walls as she lectured me. “I know you’ve had bad luck with relationships, everyone does! You’re not alone! You can’t let that get in the way for future ones!”

I crossed my arms defensively, ready to spit pure venom. “Bad luck? Every guy I’ve been with has either cheated, stolen shit, lied to me, was only with me for sex or even all of the above! I haven’t had one serious, honest relationship (Y/F’s/N) out of all six of those so-called men, and you’re wondering why I won’t give fucking love another chance.”

“I know-” 

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks that were red from anger. “And even if I did, they would surely have to be willing to climb over these fucking walls I’ve had to build and sweep me off my feet…” My voice faded out as sobs started tumbling out of my lips. (Y/F’s/N) rushed over to my side and pulled me into a tight hug. I buried my head into her shoulder as her hand rubbed my back. “I’m so scared that I’ll never know what real love feels like.” 

She tightened her grip, and let out a shaky sigh, possibly trying to contain her own tears. She hated it whenever I cried. “Please don’t say that,” She whispered. “He’s out there someone, willing to do whatever it takes to win your heart, not caring how long it takes or how difficult it is. There is someone out there for you.” She pulled away, wiping away the wetness on her own cheeks and sniffling. “Which is why you need to promise me something.” I raised a brow, urging her to continue. “I want you to promise me that if you feel yourself falling for someone, please don’t be afraid? Just let your heart guide you for once.” She held out a pinky which made me giggle. “Give it one more chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

I sighed. "What if-”

She gave me a reassuring smile. “Hey, you never know if that’ll happen unless you try.”

It was a solid minute that I stared at her promise. She was just trying to help me be the happiest I can be, but I honestly didn’t know if I could handle any more heartbreak. The more prominent pessimistic side of myself always had doubts, negative thoughts, and actions that would steer me in the direction far from the four letter word. But maybe I could try one more time. My pinky wrapped around hers, sealing the promise like we were in fourth grade.

One more chance.

* * *

It wasn’t even a week later before it all started. As cliche as it might sound, I found myself in a coffee shop just down the street from our apartment, grabbing some energy for the late night study session I was about to endure. The line was long, and that evening it seemed like everyone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed. I couldn’t even keep track of how many shitty glares I got or the number of impatient sighs when I placed my order. I was so thankful when my name was called. I grabbed the steaming cup and rushed out.

The autumn breeze was like a breath of relief, and the contrast between the warmth in my palm and the nip of the wind had me all cozy inside, and even more in the mood for the season. Autumn was one of my favorite seasons. I loved all the things that came with it: the weather was in the low sixties, Thanksgiving, Halloween, the colorful leaves, sweaters, and wool beanies. The list was endless. Another thing that came with autumn was fall break: sure it was only a few days, but it still counted as something. It was a little surreal to think that after this semester of college, I’d actually be out in the real world. It was a little terrifying. There would be days where I was just want to feel like I was seven years old, coloring in books or playing outside with friends without worrying about what the future held. None of that mattered then; I was merely enjoying the now.

As I strolled past a bus stop, a familiar face halts me in my tracks and lures me over. The background was a burnt orange surrounded by darker shades and the sparkle of the water. The focal point was the man in the powder blue suit jacket staring intently at the camera. His right arm was propped up against whatever he was leaning against, his hand showing off three silver rings. Along with the suit, the white button up underneath was soaking wet, revealing a few more of his tattoos that decorated his chest. His brown curls were also damp, and one lone piece dangled just above his right eye. Right above the photo was text that read: Harry Styles: Live On Tour, September 26th, 2017. Was that who we met yesterday? Shaking my head, almost laughing about how ridiculous that question was, I continue my way back home.

But then I heard that voice again. "Miss? I believe you dropped this.” My fingers flew up to the strap of my messenger bag to find the pin missing yet again. When I turned around, he looked the same as before: lopsided smirk, messy curls, and sparkling eyes, only this time he sported a bright yellow sweater, dark jeans, and boots. I took the button from his outstretched hand, thanking him quickly before simply tossing into the front pocket of my bag. “How did tha’ pin survive for so long before me?” He joked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I dunno, honestly. Luck, I guess?”

“Well, you must have tons of it.” He chuckled lightly. “I don’ think I introduced myself last time.” He pulls out his tattooed hand from his pocket and holds it out for me to shake. “M’names Harry,”

I took his hand, it’s strong and very warm. A look of confusion was written on my face when I thought back to the advertisement posted on the bus stop. Is he that Harry? I told him my name, then apologize when his brows came together. "Sorry, but you have a striking resemblance to that guy on that poster over there.” I gestured the bus stop that has a few people piling onto the long vehicle that just pulled up. 

That caused him to chuckle again, causing my cheeks to turn bright pink. Why did I feel like I was making a fool out of myself? “Sorry, I, um-“ I started to ramble off an apology that probably wouldn’t have made any sense since I didn’t even know what I was apologizing for.

“No need t’say sorry, love.” His smile grew, revealing those two dimples again. “Tha’ was me you saw over there. I’m just a little amused that you’ve never heard of me before.”

His response made me raise a brow. Now usually I had a pretty good read on people, either an alarm would blare in the back of my brain, screaming to stay away, or it would be silent. After everything I’ve been through, every guy I’ve met has triggered those alarms, but even after that slight narcissistic comment Harry made, there was absolute silence. “Didn’t know I had to.”

His smile faded away, then his eyes widened at my hardened expression. “M’sorry! That came out wrong, didn’t it? What I mean is that it’s a little strange running into someone who has never heard of me before. Sure, it’s common with the older folk, but you’re… younger. So I guess I assumed that you knew, my mistake. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

My defensive stance relaxed, and I gave him a tiny smile. "It’s alright, but you know what they say about assuming? Makes an ass out of you and me.”

“Which is the opposite of what I’m trying to be.” He chuckles, those green eyes light up like the street lights around us as the sky grows darker. “So what kind of music do you like? Maybe mine’s not your cup of tea, which happens.”

“Pretty much anything if it has a good beat and lyrics. I’m kind of open to everything.” He nodded his head while I took a sip of my coffee. 

“Dipped into any new stuff lately?” 

I pursed my lips, pondering on if I actually have, then I think of that song that has been popping up on my Spotify radio that I’ve taken a liking to. Not sure who it’s by or even what’s it’s called; I always forget to check. “There is this one song I like, not sure who it’s by, but I think the name has something to do with a hallway?”

“A hallway?” That smug grin returned, almost like he’s trying to contain his laughter once more. “Not ringin’ any bells. Do you know any of the lyrics?”

“What’s so funny?”

He doesn’t reply, yet pulled out his phone from his pocket, tapping on the screen a few times before holding out the phone for me to listen. The familiar tune started to play, and I gave him a curious look. “Is this the song?” He asked, a smile stretching from ear to ear. I answered with a simple yes, and he said, “Thanks! One of my favorites that I’ve written.” He silenced the song before sliding his phone back into his pocket.

I almost scoffed and had to refrain from rolling my eyes. What are the odds that it would be his song? “Damn, you really are everywhere aren’t you?” I stated with a short laugh.

“Which is why I assumed that you knew about me.” His hand slid through his curls, pushing the few trindles that the wind blew in his eyes.

I shrugged. “Yeah, well I don’t get out too much.” My answers turned short and somewhat sarcastic. I couldn’t help it though, that’s just how I was then. A really paranoid asshole that refused to let any man get close to me. That didn’t stop him though; he didn’t care how much of an impolite jerk I was being. Harry Styles was always persistent. Paired with confidence, he asked the question that put the slightest crack into the concrete walls surrounding my fragile heart. 

“Well, (Y/N). Would you like to?”

de-is-me  asked:

Write Christmas morning for all of the sides (and Virgil getting emotional because they care, they got him gifts and they careee)

Virgil awoke bright and early, his door being knocked on. “Viiiiiirgiiiiiiil…… Viiiiiirgiiiiillll….. Vergey Vergey Verrrrrge….” Came Patton’s gentle coo of a voice. “Hmm?” He managed as his door gently opened. Patton tip toed into his room and placed a hand on the awakening side’s shoulder. “Virgil? Wake up kiddo! It’s Christmas!” He barely understood what he was hearing in his sleeping state. “Christmas? What?” The anxious side began to rub his eyes. “Yeah! It’s Christmas! We alw— Uh.. Come on, Kiddo!” Patton faltered, remembering this was Virgil’s Christmas with them.

Keep reading


This was made for a particular verse of mine which I loved, it’s months old but I couldn’t keep myself from bringing it back, this time as a tutorial. One style of an edit I simply adore is one of movie posters, so here it goes, it’s not hard to do but lengthy so come take a seat.

  • Difficulty: Easy Peasy
  • Requirements: Any version of PS, I use Portable CS
  • Image Heavy: No quite, but they’re large
  • Type: Posters, Teasers
  • Many thanks to @swiftofrph for the PNGs!

Keep reading

“Buried” (Chapter Six)

The guys find out who is behind this whole mess, and get ahold of Bucky. They spend an entire day together hiking through the jungle and it’s just as snarky as you think it will be. Little bit longer chapter this time, pushing 3300 words.  Let me know if you figure out what is the significance of Bucky/Steves code names/ numbers! Excited to hear what you guys think!

If you would like to be added to the tag list, drop a note in my ask box!


Enjoy :)

Tony popped awake just as Steve was reaching out to shake him and there was an entirely too awkward moment where they just looked at each other with wide eyes.

Steve’s were just as blue as they had ever been, striking against his darker hair, and Tony thought for a moment that maybe he preferred it to the golden blonde of before. And the beard was a winner. He had always loved Steve’s smile and that clear skin but he wasn’t complaining about the beard. Not at all.

Plus the beard sort of went with how big Steve had gotten, all broad shoulders and ridiculous pecs, and thighs that made Tony want to–

Oh shit I’m staring.

Steve’s lips had curled in an amused smile as Tony was fairly obviously checking him out, and Tony finally broke the stare, looking down at Steve’s out reached hand and then standing by himself, brushing the dirt as best as he could off his pants. “You let me sleep longer than ten minutes.” He said dryly, happy to pretend that he had not been ready to start drooling over the soldier.

Steve rolled his eyes before he could help himself. “Brilliant, Tony. Very observant.”

Tony bristled a little but tried to swallow down his annoyance “Why, though? We needed to get to the river.”

“Because you needed it.” Steve said honestly. “You look tired. More tired than you should for being on vacation. I just wanted to make sure you were as rested as you could be before… before we attempt whatever it is we are attempting.”

“Yes will, I did run for my life from a helicopter yesterday. I think I’m allowed to look tired, thank you.”

“More tired than that.” Steve lifted his pack. “I mean you look like you’ve been tired for months. When was the last time you slept? I could pack things in the bags under your eyes.”

“There’s that Rogers charm.” Tony snorted. “Thanks for the compliments. Let’s just go.”

“Not gonna tell me why you’re tired?”

“I feel like it’s not your business.”

“That’s fair.” Steve took a deep breath and pointed south. “River should be no more than a few clicks that way. I ended up leaving my GPS when I grabbed my pack so I’m not entirely sure about an exact distance. Good thing is, it’s a giant river so we will definitely run right into it at some point, and can follow the current until we hit a village.”

“Lean on, fearless Captain.” Tony re-tied his boot and nodded. “Let’s find some water.”

Keep reading


Hooked | Guard

Series: Worth Fighting For

Note: Part two is here! So this has been long overdue since it was supposed to be Worldwide Day for write-a-thon, but oh well. Writing this really made me wanna go to DC…so I did lmao. Anyway, enjoy. :)

Word Count: 4559

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x Reader

AU: Boxing

Warnings: cursing, mentions of death

Summary: Thomas Jefferson, a world-famous boxer who is pegged as a self-centered asshole that has everything — good looks, fame, fortune, talent — trains for his big fight against Alexander Hamilton. When he moves to Washington D.C. to be closer to his family, he meets someone who will look past his outer shell and get to know the real him.

“You’re going out with him again?” Alex asked. “This is like the seventh time in the last three weeks.”

You were currently facetiming your best friend before he had to leave to do an interview for some sports magazine. You both had tried to stay in contact with each other over the past few weeks even though he was really busy. Just because he was five states away didn’t mean that you couldn’t talk every once in awhile.

“You’ve been counting?” You snickered.

“That’s besides the point, Y/N.” He deadpanned. “He’s no good for you.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You don’t know him, Alexander. He’s not as bad as you think.”

“I know enough about him, okay? Have you even done any research on him?” Alexander asked. “The guy rode to fame on his father’s back, he thinks he’s on the top of the world, and he’s a wannabe playboy…need I say more?”

You scoffed. “‘Wannabe playboy’?”

“Yup. Wannabe playboy. He probably flaunts his fame and  money around to get women. Then when he’s bored, he’ll drop a girl and move onto another one.”

“Stop making assumptions, Alex. Thomas isn’t like that, okay? He’s actually very kind and–”

“–egotistical and self-centered and narcissistic.”

“Those all mean the same thing.”

“Again,” Alexander said, “that’s besides the point.”

“Alex, I get that he’s your enemy because of your upcoming match, but damn. You haven’t been this harsh with any of your previous opponents. Would you please give him the benefit of the doubt? I actually like him.”

“Oh no…” He said in realization. “You don’t like like him, do you? Please don’t tell me you do…”

You stayed silent. Thomas and you had bonded a lot over the past three weeks. Each time the two of you hung out, you’d show him a bit more of DC. You had learned that in addition to being interested in law, he was also a pretty big history buff. He’d tell you various facts based on the many historical places you went to. The nation’s capital was completely loaded with history, so there wasn’t a time that went by when he didn’t say anything related to the country’s past.

“Y/N?” Alexander interrupted your thoughts.

“…well, you told me not to tell you…” You trailed off sheepishly.

His eyes widened. “Goddammit, Y/N, seriously? I mean, seriously?! Jefferson? Why him? Out of all people.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “He’s cute and funny and actually very sweet.”

“You’ve known him for three weeks, Y/N.”

“A lot can happen in a short amount of time, Alexander.” You said. “Plus, it’s not like I’m saying I love him. I just think–”

You were cut off by Alex groaning. “I don’t like him, Y/N. Please don’t end up dating him.”

You gave him a stern look. “You don’t have to like him, Alex. I don’t need your approval if I want to date someone. I can’t believe you’re acting like this, you should be happy for me finally wanting to settle down and date someone…”

“I’m just trying to prevent you from getting your feelings hurt–”

“I know you mean well, but I’ve got this.” You sighed. “I can handle myself, okay?”

Alex was hesitant and you could tell that he still didn’t agree about Jefferson, but he nodded anyway. “Fine, okay, I’m sorry.” He breathed out.

“Thank you.” You replied before checking the time. “Alright, well, I gotta go. I have to be at the gym in 15 minutes. Good luck with your interview, you’ll do great.” You said, giving him a thumbs up through the camera.

He chuckled, giving you a half smile. “Take care, Y/N.”

“You too,” you responded, hovering over the ‘end call’ button. “Bye, Lex.”

You saw the chopped up video of him waving before you ended the call, leaning back in your seat with a sigh. You wished that Alex could be more understanding, but unfortunately he was very stubborn and hard-headed. That being said, it didn’t stop you from living your life and making your own decisions.

After you ended your call with Alexander, you got ready to go out with Thomas before you left your apartment to walk to your family’s gym. A couple minutes later, you saw him leaning against the wall in his purple zip-up hoodie. Once he caught sight of you, he pushed off the light-colored brick and waited for you with a small grin on his face.

“Hello, sir.” You voiced in a terrible old British accent as you approached him. “Are you ready to continue our DC journey?”

“Why of course, milady.” Thomas said in a fancy voice, holding his arm out for you to take. “Lead the way.”

You smiled as you walked down the sidewalk arm in arm with Thomas. This banter was normal now between you and the notorious boxer. You had grown extremely comfortable with the guy and let your true colors (and your extremely goofy side) show around him.

“So what do we have planned this afternoon, madam?”

“Well, I was hoping I could surprise you, Mr. Jefferson.”

“Surprise me, you say?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes. I was thinking about taking you to a– special place, then get dinner afterwards at a restaurant of your choice…if that’s okay with you, of course.”

“That sounds magnificent, my darling.” He said sweetly, making you to burst out into small giggles, which then caused him to grin widely.

Still smiling, you removed your arm from Thomas’ and stuffed your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. It was the start of spring, so the weather had warmed up some, but not enough for you to go outside without a jacket of some sort.

“So, how was training?” You asked, glancing up at him as you raised your hand up to hail a cab.

He shrugged. “The usual. James worked me non-stop like he does everyday.” A yellow cab pulled up beside you guys. “But I’m getting quicker, that’s for sure. So whatever crazy training plan he has is actually working. I’m feeling really good.” He laughed before he pulled the cab door open, gesturing for you to get in. “Ladies first.”

You rolled your eyes at him before you climbed into the cab with him following shortly after.

“Gravelly Point, please.” You requested kindly to the driver before you turned to Thomas to continue your conversation. “Anyway, that’s good. I’m glad you feel good about it.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, looking out the window before he turned to send you a smirk. “So, ‘Gravelly Point’, eh? What’s that?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’ll find out in ten minutes or so when we get there.”

“I could just google it, you know.” He commented, holding his phone out to taunt you.

“Don’t you dare, Jefferson. I will fight you if you do.”

“Sure you will, Y/N.” He chuckled, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“I will, you’ll see.” You said, watching your city pass by outside of the window.

Twenty-five minutes later, due to horrible DC traffic, you had finally arrived at the destination on the outskirts of the city. You thanked the driver and paid him before you and Thomas climbed out of the car.

“This,” you said, gesturing to the area of open green grass with picnic tables scattered around and a football field in the distance, “is Gravelly Point. I used to come here all the time as a kid.”

You watched Thomas as he looked around with wondering eyes. Gravelly Point was a park near Reagan National Airport that DC locals knew of. The openness of the park allowed people to come and relax as they watched planes come in for landing one after another. It had become one of your favorite places in the area simply because of how beautiful it was. In the far distance, you could see the Washington Monument in plain sight across the body of water between the lands.

“It’s weird,” you noted quietly, walking through the park with Thomas at your side, “it’s a Saturday and there aren’t that many people here.”

“Oh well,” he mused while grinning down at you, “more room for us.”

About 15 minutes later, after you guys explored the place a bit, you found a stretch of grass with a perfect view of the airplanes, Washington Monument, and the river all in one scene. It was truly a beautiful sight even though the sky was gray from the weather being a little cloudy.

Then all of a sudden, Thomas plopped down on the grass and laid back, supporting his head by locking his fingers behind it.

You raised an eyebrow as you looked down at him. “What are you doing?”

“Relaxing.” He voiced with his eyes closed. After a couple of seconds, he spoke again, cracking one eye open. “You should too. C’mon, it’s great. Join me.” He said, reaching his hand up towards you.

With a roll of your eyes and a chuckle, you took his hand and let out a surprised squeak as he pulled you down to lay next to him.

“Aw, come on, don’t tell me you didn’t see that coming.” He laughed, lifting his head up slightly to watch you get on your knees to crawl over and rest your head on his stomach, lying perpendicular to him while watching a plane pass above you.

“I didn’t, and I honestly don’t know how I fell for that stupid trick. It’s the oldest one in the book.” You replied with a playful sigh. “I must not be as sharp as I think I am.”

“You said it, not me.” Even though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was smirking.

You reached your arm out to blindly slap him somewhere you hoped would hurt him. You could feel him shake with laughter as he caught your hand, preventing you from hitting him.

The two of your stayed like that, messing with each other, talking, and listening to the planes loudly go by every once in awhile; it was actually very relaxing and tranquil. Also, Thomas was as comfortable as a pillow…you could definitely get used to this.

“Did you know that at the time it was finished, the Washington Monument was the tallest building in the world?” Thomas asked, looking at the famous landmark in the distance and breaking the peaceful silence between the two of you that lasted for a good while.


“Mhm,” he mused, “then in 1887 the Eiffel Tower surpassed it.”


“Yeah,” he replied as he subconsciously and gently ran his hand through your hair.

A small grin tugged at your lips as you hummed in acknowledgement, closing your eyes in content.

“What,” he asked.

“Who knew a boxer could be such a history geek?”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, causing your smile to widen.

A few seconds later, Thomas spoke up again. “Hey, did you feel that?”

“Feel what?” You murmured, not bothering to budge at all.

A beat passed. “That.” He said again. “You seriously aren’t feeling any raindrops?”

Then, as if on cue, you felt a drop of rain plop directly on your forehead, causing you to open your eyes and sit up, glancing at the sky. It had gotten significantly darker and grayer since the two of you arrived at the park.

You and Thomas slowly rose to your feet with widened eyes.

“Shit, this isn’t good.” You commented.

“…I’m gonna call an Über and let’s hope that it gets here soon.” Thomas said.

“Good thinking.”

As Thomas ordered an Über, droplets of water started falling down faster and faster. Before you knew it, it was pouring. You and Thomas walked back towards the empty parking lot while getting soaked and looking for some sort of refuge. The only cover you could think of was a tree, and the only trees in your general area were small trees with barely any leaves on them. Oh well, they were better than nothing.

“Alright, new plan.” You said once you got underneath the tree for the tiny bit of cover it provided. “We’re completely soaked, so I don’t think going to a restaurant is the best idea.”

You sat down, pulling your knees up towards you. Thomas hummed in agreement as he lowered himself down next to you, leaning back on the trunk of the tree.

“We could go back home, shower and get dry and stuff, then you could come to my place and eat.” He proposed. “I can make the best mac and cheese.”

You breathed out a laugh despite your slightly saddened state because of the weather. “The best?”

“The best.” He confirmed with a grin. Somehow, he managed to find a way to make you smile even though you were in a bad situation.

“I thought you said you weren’t cocky,” you teased.

He chuckled. “Okay, I will admit, I’m a bit cocky when it comes to cooking my favorite food.”

You playfully gasped, shaking your head. “And here I thought you were different than the others.”

He grinned down at you. “I am.”

You rolled your eyes as you laughed again, ignoring him. “Yeah, we can totally do that. I wanna see if it’s as good as you say it is.”

“Ooh,” he chuckled. “is that a challenge?”

“I-it might be.” You stuttered due to the cold feeling you felt consuming your body because of your cold wet clothes.

“Well, then challenge accepted.” He said, trying to lighten the mood.

In the small silence that had grown between you two, you looked up to see Thomas gazing down at you. The rain had him completely drenched, like you, with water droplets dripping off the ends of his hair and jawline.

“I would offer you my jacket, but you already have one on, so that would be useless…” Thomas trailed off before he wrapped an arm around you, hugging you tightly against him. You immediately felt yourself warm up a bit, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were blushing or because of his body heat. Probably both. “This will have to do for now.”

“I’m sorry our plans got screwed up.” You murmured loud enough for him to hear over the rain, before leaning your head on his shoulder. “I should’ve ch-checked the weather.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, Y/N.” He said softly, gently grabbing your chin to tilt your head up so you could look at him. “You have no control over Mother Nature.”

“I know, but still…”

“Things happen for a reason, okay?” His beautiful brown eyes stared down at you full of care before he started to slowly lean down.

Was this really happening? Holy shit, holy shit, it was.

Your brain began to short-circuit as your faces drifted closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your lips as your noses grazed each other. You were so close to him, so close.

The moment was ruined by Thomas’ phone sounding loudly in his pocket, making him pull back and drop his forehead to your shoulder, letting out something that sounded like it was between a sigh and a groan.

“Über’s here,” he murmured, before he stood up, extending an arm out to you. You took it and let him help you up, afterwards Thomas kept a hold on you and enlaced your fingers as you fast-walked towards the only vehicle in the parking lot.

No words were exchanged throughout the entire ride to your apartment building. You weren’t sure if it was due to the shock of almost kissing Thomas for the first time, or due to the fact that you were both freezing to death…again, it was probably both.

When you arrived outside your apartment complex, Thomas mumbled a quick thank you before he paid the driver with damp cash. Grabbing your hand again, he climbed out of the car and pulled you along with him, making sure to get inside the building and out of the cold, wet weather as quickly as possible.

When you approached your apartment a couple minutes later, Thomas finally let go of your hand, making you immediately miss its warmth and the way it felt in yours. You unlocked your front door and looked back at Thomas to see him…shyly?… smiling down at you once again.

“Don’t take too long, okay?” He said softly.

You returned his grin before you replied. “I won’t.”

While you showered and changed into dry, warm clothes, your mind couldn’t help but wander to the subject of the boxer who lived two doors down. You liked him. You really liked him; you had almost kissed him…in the rain no less. How cliche is that?

What would have happened if you did kiss? Were you ready for a potential relationship with him? You two were already close, and you often flirted with each other…and he was exactly what you were looking for in a guy. He was sweet, kind, charming, funny, and just an overall genuine guy. Oh, and not to mention he was extremely attractive.

You’d grown incredibly close to the guy in the past couple of weeks. You felt like you had known him for a lot longer than it actually had been. The two of you talked about everything when it came to food, sports, entertainment, and music. However, there was one topic that neither of you really seemed to touch on: family.

The both of you avoided the subject. You remembered him briefly mentioning his mom and sister, and that his parents were divorced, but nothing really past that. You knew very little about his dad, and you still had yet to tell him about yours, but you didn’t want to push him into talking about anything. You knew your boundaries.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you finished getting ready, quickly running a brush through your hair before you made your way over to Thomas’ apartment.

“Alright, I’ll admit it, Jefferson. You were right.” You sighed, before sinking onto his couch next to him, sitting indian style. Some sit-com you barely recognized was playing on his TV with low volume. “Your macaroni and cheese is incredible.”

“I told you,” he said, sending you a smirk. “A girl like you deserves only the best.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes before you turned your attention back to the TV.

A few minutes later, Thomas broke the comfortable silence that fell between you two. “If I had some wine I would offer you some, but–”

“No, it’s okay.” You cut him off. “I don’t drink.”

“Really?” He asked, clearly confused. “I mean, I don’t drink either because I can’t have alcohol while I’m training for a fight…but it’s interesting that you don’t at all. Can I ask why?”

“It’s, uh…kind of a long story.” You let out a quiet sigh before looking down at your fiddling fingers.

Thomas looked at you with caring eyes, immediately knowing that something was up. “It’s alright, we have time.” He assured you. “If you want to share, that is. I mean, you don’t have to.” He quickly said.

Well, you might as well tell him now.

“No, it’s okay,” you told him, “I wanna tell you.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw him nod as he gazed down at you with concern. You mentally prepared yourself before you began to speak again.

“It happened four and a half years ago. Dad was working late again at the gym because it had just opened. When he left to go home, he was just…he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was dark, and he was walking on the sidewalk safely, or what was supposed to be safely, when–” you had to pause for a moment to take a deep breath. It’d been awhile since those words had come out of your mouth. “He was killed. Hit and run…by a drunk driver…and….”

“…you haven’t drank since.” Thomas finished softly, causing your eyes to snap up to his. You nodded silently, watching the understanding expression form on his face.

In a split second, Thomas had pulled you to him and wrapped you in a warm, tight embrace, similar to the one at the park, except this time it was more meaningful.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into your hair. “That must be hard.”

“It’s okay,” you voiced into his chest as you clutched onto his shirt, breathing in his intoxicating scent. “It’s been difficult, but I’ve learned to cope with it. Time is helping, I think.”

Thomas nodded as you both stayed there for a bit, holding each other with the low droning of the television in the background. Over some time, you had shifted to you leaning your head on his shoulder with his arm around you as you sat in a peaceful silence. You were subconsciously fiddling with the fabric of his magenta t-shirt before your attention shifted off the TV and was fully brought to the shirt color.

“You wear this color a lot,” you noted quietly, letting a bit of curiosity seep into your tone. “A lot of your boxing gear is this color, too.” You murmured, recalling the times you’d seen him training with similar colored shorts and shoes.

“It’s my little sister’s favorite color,” he began to explain, his voice just above a murmur. “When I was in LA, I rarely got to see her because I was across the country and training non-stop almost year-round. She thought that, because I was so far away, I…I’d forget about her one day. So, one time when I visited her a while back, she, with the help of my mom, gifted me a pair of magenta shorts so I could remember her whenever I fought and/or trained.” Thomas smiled at the thought before he continued. “I’ve stuck to the color ever since. Purple wraps, purple training gloves, shoes, everything. I do whatever I can to make up for the fact that I wasn’t always around, even when she’s not watching.”

“That’s so sweet,” you murmured, before pulling your head off of his shoulder to meet his gaze. “Is that why you moved here? To try and see them more?”

“Well, yeah, in a way–” Thomas cut himself off by clearing his throat before he could finish the sentence and nodded, breaking eye contact. “My mom needs me now more than ever. I also needed to just– get away from my dad and the press. We don’t exactly have the best relationship.”

“You and your dad, or you and the press?” You asked even though you already knew the answer.

“Both.” He sighed, thankful for the slight shift in conversation. As much as he loved them, talking about his mom and sister was a bit of a sore subject for him, as much.

“I figured,” you replied.

“He just– my father won’t quit.” Thomas said, shifting his eyes to the ground. “He has no humility or empathy for anyone, and it saddens me. My father doesn’t care about anyone but himself; the only other things he cares about are money and fame. He treats me like a puppet and treats my mother and sister like shit whenever he sees them. I had to get away from him, even if it was only for a couple of months.” Thomas sighed, unwrapping his arm from around you to drop his face into his hands. He felt bad about talking about this to you. “And I’m so sorry about complaining about my father in front of you when yours– ”

“Thomas, no, it’s okay. I completely understand you.” You said, pulling his hands away from his face. “This situation is completely different from mine. Just because my dad was killed doesn’t mean that you have to put up with your father’s shit. What he’s doing to you isn’t okay; it will never be okay. Moving here to put distance between you and him was the right thing to do.”

Your response earned you a grateful smile from Thomas, which made your heart flutter.

“Now, what’s up with the press?” You asked, figuring that now was a good time to let him vent since he was talking openly to you about things.

As a boxer, he was trained to always keep his guard up, yet around you he found that he almost always let it down.

“Nothing, I mean, I think I’ve told you most of it already.” He said, recalling the numerous times he’s complained about the press. “The media won’t stop exploiting my life for profit. It’s gotten to the point where if I complain about it, it’ll just backfire on me and make me look even worse than they originally did. I just hate that they have the wrong impression of me…and I can’t change that. I’ll never be able to change that.”

You nodded in understanding. You remembered Alex’s lecture from earlier, telling you about how Thomas was an asshole.

“You know,” you began softly, tilting your head up to make eye contact with him. “Alexander keeps telling me that you’re a selfish, stuck up, arrogant, womanizing dick. He claims that he’s done ‘research’ on you to ‘protect me’, which I’m pretty sure is just him looking up articles that say bad things about you.”

Thomas sighed and hung his head for a moment before he lifted it back up to look at you again. He knew that Hamilton would do shit like that, he just didn’t want you to believe the lies Alex and the media spread around.

Thomas’ thoughts were interrupted when your hand came up to cup his cheek.

“I think– no, I know Alex is wrong, Thomas.” You whispered, your heart beating wildly in your chest from your bold move. Little did you know, Thomas’ was doing the exact same. “You are sweet and kind and charming and ambitious and compassionate. You are not the man everybody says you are. Their opinion doesn’t matter because they never got to know you like I did, even though it’s only been a few weeks…a few great weeks.”

When you finished your speech, you were met by Thomas’ lips lightly being pressed to yours. You were surprised at first, but quickly melted into the kiss as his soft lips glided smoothly over yours. He began to panic once he realized what he had done.

Thomas pulled away all of a sudden to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out softly, “I shouldn’t have–”

You answered by softly pressing your mouth to his again, silencing him effectively. Thomas’ kisses were tender and careful, pouring countless emotions into each one. His arms pulled you closer to him, molding your bodies together as your lips moved heatedly against each other.

“I’ve wanted to do that since you first knocked on my door.” He panted, smiling after he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.

“I’ve wanted to do that since you introduced yourself as Sweaty.” You laughed, caressing his scruffy cheek with your thumb.

“I didn’t introduce myself as Sweaty,” Thomas breathed, rolling his eyes. “You were just being a smart ass.”

“Uh huh,” you hummed, letting your eyes fall shut. “Sure, Jefferson.”

“You know it’s true.” He retorted.



“Shut up and kiss me again.” You said, opening your eyes to see him gazing down at you with hooded ones.

“Your wish is my command.”

No Control | Chapter Eighteen


Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

WARNING: Smut ahead. Daddy kink.


After a day out with Harry’s friends, where all of them so kindly include me in their shenanigans and conversations as we walk around London, Harry and I head back to his house to relax. Nick wore us ragged with at least eight or nine miles worth of walking around the city, teasing Harry and telling me embarrassing stories whenever he had the opportunity. By the end of the day, I felt like Nick was a close friend, and it was good to feel like I actually fit in with some of the important people in Harry’s life. 

While we were out, of course, there were a few times the group was stopped by fans wanting photos of them all together, so I did the same thing I did in New York, and offered to take the photo for them, ensuring I was nowhere in the frame. However, there were paps outside a few of the shoppes we visited, and a text from Trevor confirmed they were already on Twitter by the time we had made it to the next store. I didn’t even bother to look at them and thought it was best to just stay away from social media for the rest of the day. When I relayed the information to Harry, he decided the same thing and turned off all notifications on his phone except for texts. 

It’s half seven when Harry and I get back to his home, both of us dragging our feet. We immediately go up to Harry’s room and change into something more comfortable, but Harry stops me midway through pulling a pair of leggings on. I look up at him with a raised eyebrow in question.

“Take a bath with me,” he offers, already stripped down to just his boxers. The thought of a warm, scented bath nearly makes me moan, so I nod and following him into his bathroom, which I’m just now seeing for the first time. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Your art is so breathtakingly beautiful and refined. I find myself just completely awed at how complex your color schemes are and the level of detail makes my heart race. Your art is literally giving me both physical and emotional reactions and it's amazing. you're amazing holy shit. How do you determine which colors to use?

Hi!! Thank you for liking my art!!

Unfortunately I don’t have color theory or a proper procedure to back me up when it comes to coloring but I’ll try to explain the best I can.

The two main questions I ask myself when I want to color are:

  • What sort of mood do I want this picture to have?
  • What colors do I feel like using today?

The mood is one of the easiest ways to decide on colors, because some colors are very good at portraying basic moods. A cold feeling can be shown with blues, warmth expressed through oranges. But remember that these colors don’t always have to be used for a singular mood, it’s merely a starting point.

the image on the left is mostly oranges and yellows but it’s not supposed to feel warm because our subject is left in the dark. On the other hand, the image on the right purposefully uses blues and purples as an easy way to keep a cold pale feeling.

So then it boils down to what colors you’d like to use today, and from there you can proportion out what the values of each color should be, for example, do you want to use blue and pink? Will pink be the main color or will it be blue?

Left: Teals are the base, red is the accent. Right: Reds are the base, blue is an accent.

Mixing cool and warm colors! In this image below I have dark browns and dark blues that comprise of the dark shadows. At the same time I also have teal as the highlights as well as pinks and purples. 

The base color is what I selected at the start and my other colors are revolved around it. Notice how each warm color has a cool color with the same brightness/saturation that matches it. You can achieve this by just spinning the color wheel. I also like to have very small quantities of bright colors just to add a whimsical touch. 

Both images have the same highlight tone, but the feeling is different because of the colors I chose. My intermediate color (that I put in between my brightest and darkest color) is almost always purple or brown. But in the left picture I used a very dark yellow as the darkest shade, in the right, I used a dark blue.

Basically, You don’t have to limit yourself to shading with the same tones, mix it up a little!!

If you want to challenge yourself, something I used to do but not really anymore is choose a base color, pick two colors that are similar to your base color (pink is close to purple and yellow), and a 4th color from across the color wheel (blue is almost exactly across the color wheel). The role of each color can vastly change based on where you want to put them. This is a poor example but these two images have the same base color, what I switched up were the other colors. Since I use a painting style, I rely on the eyedrop after I blend colors together, that way they can work better.

TL;DR: I really just follow my moods, with the help of some colors I like as intermediates (purples and browns). I don’t like doing the same thing over and over again so I try to change things up as much as I can! Spin that color wheel!!!

Midnight Cinderella Suitor’s Fashions

@aquisces-arts wanted to see what the suitors would look like in modern clothes, so I did my best conceptualizing what each would wear and why.

Let’s start with King Byron:

Byron dresses very monochromatically– wearing different shades of black head to toe, and choosing gold accents that catch the light. 

If you look at his hair, you can see that his wisps are very controlled. Even his cowlick is styled neatly. He would probably use a light pomade. The details on the jeans give texture without distraction, like his black casual shirt in the game. 

The gold zipper on the knees also satisfies his love of gold hardware. If you notice, Byron does not wear jewelry aside from his earring, which he shares with Nico, so I think a planetary key chain would be a good choice for him, as it combines his star-gazing hobby with an outlet for an accessory.

Of course, a Rolex is a must, and I think he would always give himself a chaste spritz of cologne before stepping out of the door. This scent is unisex and has a dry-down that smells of vanilla, woods and leather.

I don’t think he would shy away from stylish shoes– he may even be a subtle trend-setter. Because Byron can hold his liquor with the best of them, and because he doesn’t tend to let himself get too casual out in the open, I thought martini glass novelty socks would be a fun twist. It would be his own little secret. While it may not be that wild of a thing for the rest of us, considering Byron’s aloof personality, he may feel that it really is daring indeed.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

hey shu, just a general question here but if you were to design each of the boys' websites, how would you make them look?? like style-wise, color-wise, etc

woaH you really ask a question that got my web designing ass on fire hmm im trying not to make this a long ass essay but let’s start shall we :^)


First of all I’m mad at Harry’s team for doing everything well EXCEPT for his official website. A fucking tumblr are you kidding me??? That’s not very professional for an international star like him. Second the layout is super LAZY, LACK OF DESIGN IDK HOW HARRY’S EXTRA ASS ALLOWED THEM TO DO THIS. The website loads pretty slow because IT’S A FUCKING TUMBLR they have to use a lot of different cdns for jquery and stuff like why!!!! would you do this!!!!!! #JusticeForHarrysWebsite2k17

Ok enough for the rants. about the design, i think a full screen banner/welcome page will be nice. The color scheme, I’ll prefer monochrome or maybe monochrome with an accent color.

idek how to put my thoughts in words, perhaps something like this?? 


The thing is, I LOVE Niall’s website too much to even come up with my own ideas. Whoever is in charge of the design, I owe them my first born. The transition and animation on the website are soo neat and smooth. And also SMART. 

You see Niall actually has quite a lot stuff on his site but it doesn’t take ages to load like Harry’s GOD DAMN IT because it’s an actual web building tool written with php (for tumblr you can only write with html) plus they use a lot of jquery such as lazyload to avoid the heavily loading progress so KUDOS TO THE DESIGNERS

so um what will i do?? my first thought was Niall’s this town lyric video. I really like the drawing style and I love linear icons too. So probably some linear aesthetic? is that even a thing? asjkdlaskdj


First of all I really love the video background because like I mention earlier, that’s one of my fave stuff!!! but other than that….. i don’t really enjoy the layout because it’s kinda hard to read!!!! perhaps it might still be under construction, but i think it’s a bit too plain for liam’s style??


I think Liam definitely needs some bright colors on his website, maybe something neon-ish just like the strip that down video. i LOVE the color scheme of that video and it fits him so well. if we go with those colors along with some cool jquery animations it shall be fun!

(too bad i, for one, suck at jquery :/)


I gotta admit, I got real nervous with the louis one!! because i feel like i haven’t fully capture his style yet. there’s not much thing on the website since the single is still on the way, and looks like it’s going to be different from just hold on. so i had a hard time figuring out which style his website shall be

so turned out it’s pretty much a redesigned version of his current website :) i just really wanna show his logo since it’s one of my favorite!!!

That’s all thank you for this question!! I had fun and i hope you like them :^)


(Banner made by the incredibly talented @tiostyles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

In which Everley’s only company on a deserted island is a modern day pirate by the name of Harry.

Author’s note: Hi, everyone!! This is the very first full-length fic that I’ll be posting. It’s also the first writing with an OFC that I’ve posted. I hope that doesn’t deter anyone! I’m really excited for this, and I hope that you all are, too!! Edits and moodboards and anything you guys create for me make my little heart overwhelmed with joy, and I hope this fic sparks some inspiration. I’ve cast Naomi Scott as the main character (Everley)! Please give me any feedback that you might have! It always helps to hear from you guys. I love you all so much. Enjoy!! Xx

The air was already hot when Everley set out down the weathered dock with nothing but a set of jingling keys. She wondered briefly whether any clouds would protect her from the scorching heat of high-noon.

It was only seven in the morning. The sun was just breaking over the horizon, brushing the sky with streaks of red and orange. A team of geese squawked overhead, but everything else seemed so peaceful and sleepy in the empty harbor. There was not another soul to be seen—only Everley and the many docked boats.

Keep reading

Slow Ride

A Team Free Will Foursome
(Dean x Sam x Cas x Reader)

A/N: HAPPY SMUT APPRECIATION DAY! Big thanks to @manawhaat​ and @balthazars-muse​ help with beta-ing this, and @kayteonline​ and @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid giving me motivation to write porn. Here’s my contribution to the Smut Apocalypse. Let February 10th live on in infamy. Enjoy! xo

Word Count: 4,911

- Do not read any further if you don’t want to read about sexual situations.
- Polyamorous TFW relationship
- Always wear a condom, kiddos!
*(there is no Wincest or Destiel in this fic)

Tagging people who I hope would enjoy this: @aprofoundbondwithdean @oriona75​ @fvckinpayno @king-crowley-tho @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​ @abaddonwithyall @kittenofdoomage​ @withoutaplease @deandoesthingstome @spnashley

Based on this imagine: [x]

*gifs are not mine.

You were awoken by gentle kisses being pressed over your face, soft lips leaving wet trails on your cheeks. You fluttered your eyelids and opened them, being greeted by a very delicious surprise waiting for you at the foot of your bed. Dean was standing before you, completely naked, his gorgeous cock already half hard. You glanced at your phone.

It was 12:00 am.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Dean whispered in the dark. “Happy Birthday.”

Keep reading

Ride With Me (Part 12)

PAIRING: readerxbuckybarnes au


WARNINGS: swearing, 

*The arrival of Commander Coulson to pull apart the butting gangs unravels secrets unknown to (Y/N) that change everything, completely.  

Previous Chapter 

Well, this has taken me a while, sorry about that. Life got a bit crazy then I have writer’s block for a while. But I pushed on through and decided to finish this chapter because I needed a good distraction from today. 

Gif Not Mine 

Originally posted by sebjpeg

Friday nights were the busiest nights for Hawkeyes and add onto the little fact that it was St Patrick’s Day it was all hands on deck behind the bar. Even though you had been working flat out for four hours and your feet could do with a good hot soak you were happy for the distraction. Not to mention your friends had claimed the end of the bar as their own so you could listen to their conversation and chip in with your own thoughts.

“I never knew you had Irish roots Steve” Wanda laughed as she cleared away their dirty glasses, you and Sharon were busy stocking up the bar with new bottles of spirits while Luis, Clint, and Darcy were busy serving the ever coming on slaughter of customers.  

“They are faint but Ma’s family are all still over here, St Patrick’s Day is always a big celebration” Steve grinned holding up his beer glass.

“I think Clint could have toned it down with the decorations” you wafted the stray green paper streamer out of your way as you collected the empty spirit bottles to discard in the bin.

“Not a fan of the color green?” Natasha smirked at you as you tore away a cardboard cut out of a leprechaun blocking the bin.

Keep reading

The Phantom Thieves of Legend - Intros

This is just a short little story that I couldn’t resist writing it’s mostly dialogue tho. It’s basically an AU where the Personas are human, and they’re alive during the same time period (around the 18th or 19th century). They’re basically like the Phantom Thieves we all know and love, and they get into all sorts of shenanigans. *A* I hope you like it!

Note: Part 2 is here!

“How long must we continue waiting, Lupin? You did give them the correct address, yes?” Captain Kidd huffed, impatiently tapping his foot as he gulped down a portion of coffee, the sour taste eliciting a disapproving scowl. The hushed shuffling of newspaper pages followed as he restlessly skimmed through it, feebly attempting to divert his attention.

He had rendezvoused with Arsène in France regarding an unspecified, confidential matter, and loitering on land for more than a few hours caused him great distress due to his notorious reputation as a ‘pirate’. The petite cafe they currently lounged in failed to do much in stilling his nerves, although the familiar company of Arsène was exceptionally cathartic to him.

Arsène absentmindedly raked his fingers through his wispy, raven hair, which somehow always remained swept back from his face. “Hm, did I? I wonder…” 

Upon noticing Kidd’s disdainful glare, Arsène elevated a pair of snowy, gloved hands in surrender. “Patience, dear friend. I am certain they will arrive shortly. In the meantime, would you kindly make yourself more presentable? That stubble upon your face along with your mangy hair adds many unfortunate years to you, I’m afraid.”

Kidd displayed no expression as he scratched the back of his chocolaty head, his shoulder-length hair presently tied in a small, messy bun. “Aye, I’ll be sure to gussy up nice and proper for the guards when they ship me off to be hanged. Perhaps I’ll wear a nice shade of lip color to match their red coats.”

Arsène folded his hands on the table as he smiled cheerfully, his brow and cheek slightly squeezing the monocle that rested in front of his right eye. He simply adored banter, and he would never deign to reject an opportunity to pursue it, for if there was one thing Arsène greatly delighted in, it was the temptation of a challenge. “Might I suggest a charming rose instead? It would look lovely with your eyes.”

“And a bullet would look lovely between yours,” the former privateer threatened halfheartedly; he had grown accustomed to Arsène’s quirky and playful nature, and he even deemed him a younger brother; although oftentimes he desired nothing more than to consign any and all custody of said ‘brother’ directly to the authorities. 

“I’m flattered; however, although I do look dashing in most everything, a bullet is something I’d rather not try-”


“Right, my mistake… I look dashing in positively anything and every-”

A vitriolic sigh slipped past Kidd’s lips, in addition to a thick Scottish accent. “Quit flappin’ your lips and pay attention, lad. It seems we’ve got company.”

Kidd’s observation was correct; a striking woman of magnificent allure had plastered her cyan gaze on the two men, and her loose, curly hair curtained over her shoulders like an onyx waterfall. She sported a lavish off-the-shoulder crimson dress, adorned with copious frills and ruffles, and she approached their table with an enthusiastic grin.

“Bonjour! How are my two favorite gentleman doing?” the gypsy inquired, eagerly perching herself in the chair Arsène had pulled out for her.

The thief pressed a delicate kiss on the back of her hand prior to seating himself once more. “Absolutely divine now that you’re here, mademoiselle Carmen.”

“Watch yourself, Lupin. She wants something,” Kidd warned, taking another swig of his coffee and quelling a wince. Although coffee was much too bitter for his palate, he couldn’t deny the rush of energy it provided, and he was certainly going to need it.

Carmen furrowed her brows and fashioned her ruby lips into a pout. “William, don’t be rude. Can’t a lady pay compliments without having an ulterior motive?”

“Aye, but you’re not the average lady,” Kidd countered pointedly.

The gypsy clicked her tongue scornfully as she crossed her arms. “Men and their baseless accusations… how is a poor woman like me to survive?”

“You’ll manage,” the pirate claimed smugly before continuing. “And besides, the only thing that’s poor about you is your confounding obsession with sweets, yet even that costs a hefty sum. I’m surprised you’re not wearing that gaudy necklace of yours.”

Carmen appeared indignant for a moment until a questioning expression shadowed over her face. “Pardon? I could have sworn I walked out the door with it…”

“Are you perchance searching for this?” Arsène promptly chimed, dangling a lavish string of gems from his index finger. The other hand was cradling his chin, and a goading smile danced on his lips.

Carmen’s hand shot up to her collar bone with a sharp gasp, only to grip naught but air. “When did you…?”

Arsène uplifted himself from his seat and strolled behind her, securing the jewelry around her neck as he chided mockingly, “You really ought to keep a closer eye on your belongings, dear; you never know when some sneaky thief might try to snatch them away.”

As Arsène returned to his former position, a smile as sweet as honey manifested on Carmen’s face, and her shy blue eyes glinted with malice. “Then perhaps the thief should like to repay me with a necklace composed solely of their grubby, scavenging fingers.”

Arsène innocently twiddled his gloved thumbs, but a smirk remained on his lips. “Then the only culprit here would be our dear William, as I’m certain he’s failed to wash his hands, and himself, for days on end now.”

“The only washing water I require is that of the open sea,” Kidd responded wistfully, then he narrowed his eyes at Arsène while drumming his fingertips on the marble tabletop. “Speaking of which, I’m running short on time, Lupin. What is this business you mentioned?”

Carmen rested her elbows on the table and interlaced her fingers as she inquisitively glanced at the thief. “Yes, I was curious about that as well. Do explain yourself, Arsène.”

He emitted a disappointed sigh as his inky eyes flitted to the cafe’s entrance. “I suppose it can’t be helped; the others are bound to be late considering their distance.” 

Arsène slowly leaned back into his chair and placed his hands in his lap, ambition twinkling in his eyes like stars. “I assure you, I have not called either one of you here for casual conversation. You see, using the information accumulated from our resources, I have discovered what will inevitably prove to be our most extravagent heist yet…”

The Long Way Home (Epilogue)

It’s finally done! Oh, thank God. *giddy laughter* It seems appropriate that I’m posting the epilogue to this story on a Wednesday, just as I did with the rest of the chapters. Writing this fic has been an insanely wild ride for me, fulls of high highs and low lows, and I really can’t thank you all enough for the astounding things you guys have said about this story and the encouragement you gave me to keep pushing forward even when I really didn’t feel like it. You’re the best. XOXO

Find it on AO3.  

Missed a chapter?  Get caught up here.

Summary:  After an unnaturally long life fraught with personal tragedy, Killian Jones has become known throughout the realms as the infamous Captain Hook, an opportunistic ne’er-do-well and one of the most formidable pirates to ride the waves.  When he crosses paths with a mysterious young woman with no memory of who she is or how she arrived there, he recognizes the chance to claim a monetary reward that will constitute his biggest score yet.  But a journey across the world to get her home leads to a series of adventures that reveal that her value lies in far more than gold and jewels.  A Captain Swan Anastasia AU - sort of.  (Captain Swan Enchanted Forest AU.  Romance, Adventure, & Eventual Smut.  Rated E.)

Warning: Brief but graphic depictions of violence, peripheral character death, and smut.

“Your face is going to get stuck that way, you know.”

Killian looks up from the rolls of parchment laid out before him on the low table in the sitting area by the fireplace, the wrinkle between his eyes fading and his features turning amused.  “Afraid it will make me less handsome, Swan?”

Emma rolls her eyes and comes over, forcing him to sit back in the chair as she slides into his lap.  “Seriously, you’ve been studying those plans for an hour.”

“You’ve seen the Jolly,” he says patiently, settling his left arm snugly around her hips and admiring the way the her face appears luminous and her hair shines like actual gold in the firelight.  “You know how complex square-rigged vessels are.  Building a few more for the fleet is no small undertaking.  Failure to plan properly—”

“Yes, yes, I know.” She chuckles and touches her lips to his cheek.  “But tomorrow’s a big day.  We should go to bed.”

He hums, turning his head to meet her for a quick kiss.  “I’d like nothing better.”  He pulls back a few inches and tucks a stray lock behind her ear.  “But I can’t tonight.  Go to bed.  In our bed, I mean.”

Emma’s back goes ramrod straight, and she cocks her head.  “What are you talking about?”

Keep reading

Ticking Time Bomb 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: Language

Russian Terms:
Malyutka (Little One)

You’re a hot headed, risk taker, who doesn’t want to blend in, and doesn’t see the fascination in Captain America. When Fury black mails you into joining the team, he sends you under cover with Mr. America himself, and you couldn’t be more resentful. But what if you and Rogers have more in common than you ever imagined? You wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for him, or would you?

Keep reading