#cyan rug

[aspoonfulofwitchcraft]

Transitional Home Bar Jacksonville

Example of a mid-sized transitional single-wall medium tone wood floor wet bar design with flat-panel cabinets, dark wood cabinets and marble countertops

[lucianaurtiga]

Single Wall Home Bar An illustration of a mid-sized transitional single-wall wet bar design with dark wood cabinets, flat-panel cabinets, and marble countertops.

[edwardkinsellaillustration]

Single Wall Home Bar An illustration of a mid-sized transitional single-wall wet bar design with dark wood cabinets, flat-panel cabinets, and marble countertops.

[turquoise-cyan]

[writingoddess1125]

Boardwalk Artist

Finally used my limited drawing skills for this little story!

Support me on Ko-Fi

No warnings. Fluff-tastic!!

It had been a fairly good day on the boardwalk- Plenty of ships stopping by which allowed you to get some minor work done. Any money was good for you, especially as a artist which wasn't a common or appreciated trade in the East Blue.

Most your work came from low time pirates wanting a better drawing of themselves instead of the unflattering photo from their Bounty's. However the little Berry you got was enough to eat, keep a roof over your head and buy more supplies.

Speaking of supplies-

You sigh as you realize this is the last page of this pack of paper- better make it worth it. Maybe a landscape or the sky or..

However something red and blue catches your eye- spotting a stranger walking down the boardwalk past you.

Your eyes focus on the stranger, noticing the scowl on his face and the clear distaste he had that lingered on his aura. However despite the scowl he was unique looking and at least to you attractive. Strong jawline, pretty blue eyes, wonderful cyan hair and the cheaply painted over 5 o'clock shadow adding a rugged look to his appearance. Defiently your type in some way.

So you begin to sketch him, The last paper being filled up by this odd clown stranger walking past. It was almost muscle memory at this point as you captured him to your finest abilties.

He must have felt you staring as he turns to give you a passing glare-

So you waved him over, he glanced around himself like he was expecting forr you to call for someone else- till you pointed directly at him and waved him over again which lead him stepping forward. The pocey of circus people carrying weapons behind him also staring at you in question at your odd actions-

You finish the sketch with ease and smile at the odd man as he got within a few feet of your little set up.

"Here you go. Last paper of the day is free" You said kindly ripping the last peice of paper from your board and handed it to him as you stood up to pack up your things.

He opened his mouth clearly to say something snarky and rude but paused as he looked at what you handed him.

He stared at the paper, it was a pretty okay drawing of him from the side mainly charcoal with some light white, red and blue chalk were his nose, makeup and hair was which made them pop nicely. In the corner was a scribbled signature and note saying 'You look cool, Thanks!'

He looked up at your surprised as you finished packing the last of your supplies of the day.

"Er- Uh thanks?" He said in a confused tone, Clearly not used to stuff like this. Which was normal for most customers you got anyway.

"No problem, Should thank ya for the nice look" You say cheerfully putting on your backpack and tucking the cheap wooden easel under your arm.

"Oh by the way your nose looks really pretty with your hair color. Complimentary colors and all" You say with a wave and smile. Walking away leaving the Captian standing there bewildered and unable to process what just happened.

[ph0enix-12]

Ichorverse - chapter 3

~ Knowledge’s keeper ~

This may sadly be the weakest chapter in the story, there just wasn’t that much to say

<- Chapter 2 . Chapter 4 ->

He was named Dust, for that was all he was, dust to be swept under the rug and forgotten. To be left in a library and gather over the books, to be quiet and invisible, to not ever be seen by anyone.

His family was far too powerful and influential in high society to be seen with a son like him, a frail and cursed child.

He was never fully alone, he saw spirits as they moved around his parent’s villa, but even they didn’t spare more than a glance at the forgotten child.

Many of the books of the library were used as decoration, lining the shelves just to fill them, like magic books, his favorite thing in the world. He was honestly grateful to be in that family just because it meant he could study magic. His mana lines always felt full and stuffy, making him always sluggish and sleepy. He only realized once he grew up that the reason for that was a surplus of magical energy hidden inside him.

He studied science even if magic was his true calling. Reading every single book written by the greatest researchers he could find was easy, always hungry for knowledge and more stimulus for his head.

He found magic books of all kinds and he ate through each one, devouring the words eagerly and stewing over each single page for days until he knew it by heart.

He quickly learned that spell casters were able to save spells as cards. Spell caster, mage, magic user, he loved those appellatives, he yearned to be called that too. So, he started to make his own cards, and even if the first ones were incredibly unsuccessful, he kept going every day he spent in that library. Painting and writing each little detail he found described in the books he so loved.

And then his parents had to ruin it all, of course.

After almost his entire life spent in that library, he was dragged out to attend some sort of party, which was weird, but he would have been an idiot to question them.

The lights were too bright and the music was way too loud even if soft jazz was the only thing playing. He felt the expensive garments he was made to wear stick to his bones and the lace itched badly, the tag of the shirt dug into his neck like searing needles. It was all too much all at once.

He couldn’t look people in the eyes, even if it was required for him to speak to other nobles. He didn’t care about this stupid thing, he didn’t care that he had the honor to be hosted in the king’s palace. Why the heck would he!? His library was perfect, he liked his living conditions!- to a certain degree..

He ran out into one of the openings that from the ballroom gave into the gardens outside. His breath was short and everything was spinning. Dust tried to shield his eyes, because everything felt too bright, and loud and- Something was wrapped over his head…it was a nice fabric, it felt like good quality, but not like some stupid fancy lace.

He heard someone quietly guide him to take deep breaths and he listened, slowly being able to open his eyes again.

He was utterly stunned when he saw the man in front of him, who had wrapped the cloth over his head. This was no ordinary man, this was a god.

The god had a golden crack over one of his eyes and from that close, Dust could notice tiny cyan freckles over his cheek bones. He knew very well who the god was, since there was only one other god to live in the mortal realm. This man was Nightmare, Dust had read stories about the six gods before, and he was the youngest among them even if he came from a set of triplets.

His older siblings made the sea and the planets in their galaxy, while he made the night. From the moon and the stars, to the darkness that was casted over the world- he had made it all.

And now, there he was, looking at Dust with a calm yet worried expression.

“Are you feeling better? Can you hear me now?” He asked, making sure to keep his voice low for the startled mortal, “Yeah- i am fine-“ Dust blushed at his stuttering, it wasn’t often he spoke to new people and it was surely the first time he spoke with a god.

The star sighed relieved, “good. I worried when you ran out” he tenderly wrapped the cloth around Dust further, it was like a big scarf made of heavy cotton and thankfully not itchy wool.

The god sat beside him on the grass, keeping his legs gracefully folded under himself, “thank you..” Dust muttered shyly, “I- don’t know what happened”.

“You almost had a meltdown” he was hesitant, but he gently placed a hand over Dust's shoulder in an effort to soothe him further, “did something in particular upset you? Did someone bother you?” Dust closed his eyes, surprisingly letting himself get touched. “Uh- I don’t know” he spoke softly, starting to get embarrassed- fuck, the king had to step in to calm him from a meltdown, first day out into society and he was already messing up.

“It was…loud and bright. And these clothes suck” the god chuckled amused by his brashness. “Yes well, fancy clothing isn’t really ‘sensory friendly’” he smiled at him and the mortal felt..understood, maybe.

“You are Dust, correct? I learned just today that the Arkani family had a son” He tried his hand at some light conversation, maybe trying to distract Dust from the noise of the party. “Yeah..I don’t get out much, I mostly study” He perked up, looking interested, “really? What do you study? I enjoy litterature the most”

A small smile bloomed on Dust's face, hidden under the scarf that wrapped around his head, “magic…I like magic studies”

He was admittedly very excited to finally talk with someone cultured about it.

Dust proudly showed him his cards, he hadn't even realized how much he needed someone to ask about them and to see his achievements-

“It is rare for a young man like yourself to be interested in this field. Who taught you?” Dust blushed, ashamed, “..no one taught me..your grace” he lowered my head- most nobles had a proper education, none of them were self taught like him.

“You learned magic by yourself? That is-'' Dust hunched his shoulder, ready to be chastised or something, “-quite impressive!”

To say Dust was stunned was quite the understatement- he had understood this man to be someone interested in culture, he would have imagined to be reprimanded for not having a teacher-

“You have quite the interesting talent for cards too” the god gently picked up one of the spells Dust had displayed on the grass. He studied it carefully, squinting his good eye and rubbing his chin, the mortal admitted to himself that the god looked a little silly doing so-

“-and the writing on the cards is very pristine and polished, it means that you have been writing multiple cards for a long time-” Dust hid his little snort of amusement as the god kept examining his work, he honestly felt a lot better now, the sounds and lights were dulled by the scarf he had been given.

The star offered him a polite smile as he handed the card he held back to the mortal. “How would you like a place in my court?”

Dust blinked. “Me?” the god chuckled amused, “yes, you, Dust Arkani”

He blinked again, “are- you sure your majesty?” the god shrugged a little, “why not? I don't think you want to be stuck in a library forever, no?”

How did he-

~~~

I’m so sorry Dust, I promise you are interesting in other chapters 😭😭😭

[wiltedkyinn]

healing scars (male reader!!)

(Slight neteyam x male reader, read part 2 not proofread lamo.)

y/n was deep asleep when one of the younger members of the tribe woke him up. “y/n get up they are forest na’vi”  the small girl tried dragging the older na’vi. “Fine, fine im up” his voice was barely above a whisper, still waking up. After a small walk they were meted with 6 darker na’vi. There was Ao'nung with his friend Roxto, picking on them because of their tail. y/n walked over to Ao'nung and grabbed his ear, slightly kicked his knees. He was in a kneeling position, “Ao' Nung! apologize immediately.” “y/n! Why are you defending strangers?” “Even if they are strangers, they deserve respect.” you pinched his ear, “now apologize.” his ear where y/ns hand was pinching was becoming slightly red. “I'm sorry” his voice was barely a whisper. “I'll finish dealing with the both of you later,” y/ns e/c eyed was glaring at Roxto. 

“Now, who are you?” his attention now at the unknown na’vi in front of him. “I'm Jake Sully, this is my family. Neytiri, neteyam, lo’ak, kiri, Tuktirey” the name was familiar in y/ns head “ the Toruk Makto? The great warrior neytiri? What brings you here?” Ronal and tonowari were now there. While jake and tonowari were talking i walked closer to the kids inspecting them. Suddenly Ronal grabbed one of the girls' hands, “they have demon blood!their not even real na’vi” 

y/n looked at the girl's hand before she pulled her hand back from ronal. “Show me your hand.” she told one of the boys, he obeyed. “Ronal, there is no reason to do this. They are already humiliated enough.” y/n was looking down into ronals eyes. She glared back, reluctantly letting go of the boy's hand. She then started making her way to tonowari. “Are you guys okay?” y/n again at a whisper. The boy nodded while the girl scoffed. In Front of them are the two mothers, one hissing the other arguing back. Jake apologized for her behavior. i walked back up to the front holding up Jake's hand. “You were once human right?” he nodded a couple of times, “that explains the children” i announced, hopefully to lift some tenison. The littlest one poked at my leg, the cyan na’vi squatted to be eyes level with her. “Yes?” his voice now at a normal tone, “what happened to your back?” the mother quickly interrupted “tuk! Don't ask questions like that.” “It's okay miss, let's see what they decide first.” he turned his face, smiling, to face the leaders of the tribe. 

They both looked at y/n with a somewhat concerned face, he nodded.  And that was it. They were officially accepted, as long as they didnt bring war and learn the way of water which me, Ao'nung, Tsireya and Roxto would help.

“Here I'll show you your pod. Where you'll be living.” y/n was in front of the family leading them, some kids tried to say hi, before they could their mothers snatched them away. Neytiri dropped a rug, a heavy thud was heard. Y/n started chuckling, “that's how i was when i was first accepted too,” “you aren't native Metkayina?”  He shook his head to the left and right. “I'll come collect you guys tomorrow so we can start training, good night,” with that the sully family was left alone.

Next week

(still teaching him how to dive.)

y/n knocked on the side of the pods. “You guys ready?” some hummed others nodded but Tuktirey's tail clinged onto the back of y/n's leg. y/n giggled cute he thought to himself. Finally reached the shore where Roxto, Ao'nung and Tsireya were. Y/n quickly saw how lo’ak was looking at tsireya, vice versa.

 After practicing diving to see how far they can go. y/n brought up breaking into pairs. Roxto with tuk, tsireya with lo’ak, Ao’nung. Leaving y/n with neteyam. “The way of water has no beginning and no end. The sea is around you and in you. The sea is your home before your birth and after your death. Our hearts beat in the womb of the world. Our breath burns in the shadows of the deep. The sea gives and the sea takes. Water connects all things, life to death. Darkness to light.” was whispering to netayam. To somehow calm him. “You have to breathe slower, to expand your lungs.” y/n reminding him, “breathe here. Not your lungs.” y/n was now holding neteyams stomach. The darker na’vi stared into the lighter ones eye. y/n cleared his throat, ‘’here try diving again expert you'll have to catch something’’ y/n slowly took off a necklace, it had some beads, a couple shells, small rocks and at the heart of the string was a glowy dark blue oval rock. “It's a small things i've collected over the years of traveling. Though I have a bigger collection in my pod.” he gave neteyam the necklace to inspect, remembering the patterns, he saw a familiar bead on the left side of the dark blue rock. “Have you been in the forest before or near the Omaticaya clan?” “yes but that was my first venture, I should go back one day.” smiling to himself remembering the memorious. “Thats where im from” neteyam was pointing at himself. “I know,” neteyam brows are knitted. “” Why didn't you say something earlier?” “Your mother seems to be going through homesickness. What good is it to bring it up?” The cyan na’vi was looking at the necklace before slowly lifting up his head to look at the darker na’vi. While neteyam was looking at y/n he barely noticed y/n throwing the necklace into the ocean. 

“I wasn't ready!” as he dived in.

“Only losers say that!”

After a while y/n started to worry a bit. He didn't throw it that far right? Right? While deep into thought. The forest na’vi was seen behind the reef na’vi. Slowly creeping up, like a predator looking at its prey. He jumped from the ocean onto y/n, necklace on his neck. Y/n startled bucked his head into the ‘unknown thing’ quickly taking his fishing knife out of his waistband. Slightly cutting the younger na’vis neck. “Neteyam do not scare me like that!” his voice was laced with worry. Y/n quickly put his hand onto the boy's cut, calling any ilu. He took the boy's hand. “Here sit” they were now in y/ns marui/pod. 

“Keep pressure on it.” the boy somewhat shouted while digging in a box. He quickly sat on his knees on the side of neteyam. “This might sting a bit.” y/n slowly moved the boy's hand off of his throat. Without noticing y/n didn't move when neteyam held onto his hand while applying salve onto his neck. He didn't move even after nettayam flinched feeling the cold product on his open wound. 

“ What were you thinking?! I could have seriously hurted you!” 

“Im sorry y/n”

“Don't do that again net” “net? I have a nickname?" "You do now, honoring your almost death by the hands of me!” y/n wasn't actually angered but worried. What would've of y/n killed him? How would he explain himself to his parents?

“Your parents! Oh my ewya. Your parents! What am I going to tell them? ‘Sorry I almost slitted your son's throat!! First impressions matter, dear erwya please guide me to not die of embarrassment—” y/n was cut off by neteyam “my parents already like you, you stood up for us when we first arrived." there was a silence. “I'll walk you home it's almost eclipse, i guess ill try to explain to your parents.” y/n slapped the back of his head, just as i reminder to not sneak up on him again. 

   While walking neteyam's tail stuck to y/n's leg just like tuk did. “You sister does the same thing,” y/n then placed his hand carefully on the other's tail. Taken aback neteyam tail quickly left y/n's hand and started swaying back and forth. y/n laughed at the reaction. “Hey I'm sorry if he is out after curfew there was an uhm accident” y/ns head was looking at the sand by jakesullys feet. “What happened?” Neytiri was quick to inspect both of us. She quickly noticed the small cut on his neck. “I was teaching him how to dive, and he had caught me off guard. Off instinct i had accidently cut... His throat I'm sorry.” he had finally mustered up the courage to look up at Neytiri. “When you wake up you should put this on again, also you shouldn't show up to lesson tomorrow salt water would only infect it.” y/n gave a bag filled with the slave he had used earlier. y/n started to walk into the direction of his marui. “y/n!” neteyam called out. “Hm?” “Your necklace,” he looked behind him, facing the marui. “You can have, as a token of asking of forgiveness” 

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Lost bets

~ Arthur Morgan/GN!Reader

~ Romantic

~ 872 words

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If there was one fact about you that stood above all, was that you were damn good at poker. Only getting better with time, and a few tricks from Hosea. TIme after time again, racking up money from people who wanted to try their hand with you.

This time, one of those people just so happened to be Arthur Morgan. You couldn’t deny he put up a good fight. Unfortunately, the both of you were far more intoxicated than you should’ve been. That one mistake led to stupid bets being made.

“I hate you..” Arthur grumbles as he pulls the brim of his hat down over his face to hide just how red he's getting. You, on the other hand, are enjoying his suffering immensely. Doubling over and clutching your sides, damn near tears due to his predicament.

“I really gotta do this..?” He asks hesitantly, to which you nod and force yourself to breathe, though still giggling as you eye Arthur up and down.

He looked deranged. Your bet was to put the loser into a dress for the day; nothing elegant. Just an old cyan, full-length dress the gang accidentally picked up a while ago. Doing all the normal chores one would've done anyway. 

His muddy boots peeking out underneath the hem of the dress. His broad chest almost unable to fit into where a pair of breasts are supposed to be, his lats causing the dyed fabric to stretch slightly. Unable to get his biceps through the sleeves, they just rest underneath his armpits. With one of his arms wrapped around his midsection awkwardly, his other hand holds his hat over his face. Not yet ready to leave your tent.

“C'mon, darlin', you look fineee..” You draw out teasingly, only making Arthur grumble in frustration. A broad grin plastered on your face as you step closer to Arthur.

“Here,” You say simply, removing his arm from covering his stomach, much to his surprise. Arthur lifts his hat curiously to look at what you're doing. His heart threatening to jump out of his chest as he watches you unfasten your leather belt and pull it free from your pants in one swift motion.

Without a second thought, you wrap the belt around Arthur's abdomen and lock it in place, with the idea that not only will it accentuate Arthur's waist and cause more embarrassment, but it'll hide a bit more of his shame should the dress try to fall down.

Arthur mutters something incomprehensible under his breath and looks away from you with a huff. Putting his hat back atop his head as you put your hands on his hips.

“Don't get used to it..” He cavils, stiffly reaching forward and resting his forearms on your shoulders, interlacing his fingers behind your head.

“I'll try not to.” You giggle, gawking at his figure one last time before straightening your posture and placing a small peck onto Arthur's lips before letting go of him entirely, much to his displeasure.

“I think you got chores to do, Morgan.” You tease, gesturing towards the entrance to your tent. He glares at you as if trying to say “I'll get you back for this” before he takes a deep breath to stone his nerves. Walking out of your tent with his head held high, as if it's entirely normal to see such a rugged man in a dress.

With you walking next to him, you watch as the other gang members stare at him in confusion before breaking out into fits of laughter. Arthur's cheeks flush a tinge of pink at their stares, but it's hard to deny how good it feels to see people happy again, even if it's at his own expense.

“Hey, Y/N! She your new woman?” John chortles as he looks between both you and Arthur. In a good spirited manner, you take Arthur's arm in your own and place his hand on your bicep, as you've seen the pricks in Saint Denis do with their woman.

“Damn straight. Ain't she just a beauty?” You retort with another fit of giggles. Arthur glares at you and John in silence. His brow furrowed yet his lips curved upwards into an amused smirk.

“I'll say.” John remarks sarcastically with a chuckle and a shake of his head. Finding it extremely amusing on how you even convinced Arthur to pull something like this.

“Think ya might look better than me, Arthur!” Molly jokes as she approaches the trio, only sparking more gang members to tease and mock the two of you.

“You'd make a hell of an ugly woman.” “Finally find your true form, blacklung?” “I ain't even gonna ask..” “Dutch's crazy spread to you too?” “This ain't got a damn thing to do with me.”

Comment after remark after mocking statement, all teasing the two of you for your drunken bet. Yet, at the end of the day, it's all in good fun. Arthur kept his promise and got you back after dark in your tent...much to the gang's dismay.

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Still working on my last request but this idea was stuck in my head

I hope the formatting is good 💀 wrote it on my phone

[goodday-goodmorn]

Not used to posting things so fast- But the brain worms have infected me and @auspicioustidings concepts give me life. Once again- another from them, i felt contractually obligated to write this because my auntie is in Vegas for her birthday right now.

The concept in question

Not the after effects of waking up- but rather the proposal itself. This one’s short cause i pumped it out real quick. Just a little dabble.

————————

Ah Vegas. City of love. Wait no that was Paris- city of… sin? Well that sounded too much like a trashy YA romance novel for your tastes so- Vegas, City of…

Vegas: City!

God maybe you should lay off the M and M’s. Lavender and Bright cyan blue little things from the M and M factory are making you really taste the rainbow. Shit that was skittles catchphrase wasn’t it? Actually- did M and M’s even have a catchphrase other than the sexy brown M and M? Though that was less a phrase more a person. Er- candy. Chocolate.

Pah! You should have never gone to the M and M factory. Stupid little chocolate candy is making you think far more than you can handle right now.

Seriously it’s messing with your head. You’d better get rid of them.

You throw your M and M factory bag onto the floor, watching all the candies scatter the pavement in an explosion of color. That's why the pretty colors are so dangerous and not sold in the normal packs. They make people all loopy. Cause there’s no other reason you would be so outta sorts.

Except maybe the daiquiri you’d had. And the Manhattan. And those shots. And whatever that weird drink in a glowing lightbulb was.

Okay maybe it wasn’t the M and M’s.

Which means you just threw them out for nothing oh no! 20 dollars down the drain. And your M and M’s!

You whine mournfully over the loss, sinking to the ground dramatically and cradling one of the cyan shelled candies close.

“Is everything all… right?”

You barely register the voice- British and a bit rugged- before you are drunkenly rambling out-

“No- i thought my M and M’s were evil but they weren’t and i killed them for nothing!” You cry out, the words making you even more emotional, you pathetically sob, holding the cyan candy in your palms to your chest.

“Come back! Liveee please. Papa didn’t mean it i swear, i didn’t know what i was saying- you got me all tongue tied!”

“Hey-“

Oh british man has a very nice voice, so smooth and gentle, more than you were expecting.

“It’s alright love. We can get you some more candies.”

You sniffle.

“R-really?”

He smiles like some sort of teddy bear. Gentle and soft.

“Yes really. Just gotta get you back to wherever you’re stayin at first. It’s dangerous for a pretty girl to be on the street like this.”

You nod sollumly. “For the m and m’s yeah. Hard shells- but thin. Can’t be carrying em’ out in the cold. Poor little fellows can’t stand it.”

“Think you should be worrying about yourself first love.”

He really does look a teddy bear when he smiles. A very warm and cuddly teddy bear. Very warm. And you are oh so cold. Maybe…

“…maybe i’m and M and M.”

You mumble with a little frown, looking away from his oh so pretty eyes to instead stare at the cracked M and M in your hand.

He chuckles, it’s a nice sound.

“Com’re lovely. You’re shiverin.”

He held you up and you cling to him naturally. To your disappointment and utter display he is not as soft as a Teddy bear. Such false advertising. When you burry your head in his chest, while warm and soothing- it is firm with muscle. Hard just like his arms and co-

“Not exactly what i meant by that sweetheart.”

He’s pushing you away! Away from the warmth.

“No, I'm an M and M- gotta be warm or else I'll crack! Do you want me to die?”You whine out trying to stay close but he’s very strong, holding you firmly away from his toned chest.

(And raging boner. Not that you noticed it.)

“I know, I know- here. I’ll give you my coat.”

He wraps you up in his thick but soft coat and you relax immediately, snuggling into the fabric. With your eyes closed you hear the rumble of his chuckle.

“There’s a girl. Nice and warm now?”

You nod, making a drowsy and soft little “Yup.”

“Good. Now come’on. You know where's your hotel at?”

“Huh? We can’t go there! We gotta get more M and M’s first. Silly.”

“Right, course. Silly me.”

You giggle a bit hysterical. He agrees with you so easily, letting you link arms with him and walking you to the M and M factory. He’s so silly. With his cozy coat and koala-esc smile and pretty eyes and rumbly voice and-

“I think m’ in love with you.” You slur out, gazing at him with half lidded eyes.

“Shouldn’t say stuff like that sweetheart. Might give a guy ideas.”

Ah Ideas, you’ve got a lot of ideas. So many fun ones- but mostly one that you blurt out after he gently pushed your hand away when you tried to pay for your new M and M’s.

“I think I wanna kiss you.”

Price pauses as he tugs you outside the shop. Looks down at you, clinging to his arm, wrapped up in his coat; with the sweetest face and clearly wasted out of your mind. Price isn’t a good man. A good man would have called you a cab to get you back to your hotel. Would have asked if you had any friends to get you there. Would have gently told you to go to the stupid M and M factory another time.

He’s not a good man but even Price isn’t fucked up enough to take advantage of a pretty drunk girl. Even if his self control is wilting the more time he spends around the mess that is you.

He shakes his head with a little sigh, leaning down close to you and mumbling.

“S’ not a good idea to kiss strangers love.”

“So then marry me and we won’t be strangers.”

…Self control John. Self control.

“Will you marry me please?”

You plead with the teddy bear man, he’s just so cozy and pretty you can’t help it. You wanna kiss him soooo bad but he’s right you can’t kiss a stranger! But if he was your husband then it would be perfectly acceptable. And you are an ordained minister technically so it all works out!

Price looks at you, your pleading eyes, your softness, you wrapped up in his coat and clinging to his arm. Pretty little thing.

…He deserves to let his self control slip just this once right?

[popatochisssp]

Aesthetics Ref - SFF Bros

Nickname: Vi (SFF!Sans)

Height: 4” taller than you (OR 5’3”)

Eye-lights: Dark violet (#9400D3)

Magic Specialty: Purple, cyan, green

Scars/distinguishing marks: Small crack above his right eye-socket, three letters etched vertically along his sternum

Preferred Style: Business casual, aiming for sleek and professional and well put together enough to blend completely into the background. He doesn’t want to stand out as anyone or anything special, but if he does happen to have someone’s attention, he wants to be entirely unobjectionable and unworthy of scrutiny, because everything about him is perfectly, neatly arranged and very boringly ‘normal.’ Favors dark colors, lots of blacks and grays with the occasional accent color or geometric pattern—within reason of course.

Outerwear: Blazers and jackets (center-clasping stand-collars are a preferred style), generally worn open

Top: Button-ups, henleys, and other such long-sleeved shirts

Bottom: Slacks and trousers mostly, with maybe one or two pairs of dark jeans in the mix that rarely see use

Footwear: Mostly boots, flat combat style by preference or balmoral style for appearances, but also has some nice wholecut shoes for when the boots don’t work with the outfit of the day

Trademark accessory/accessories: An expensive-looking black watch with a Tyrian-purple face, worn on his right wrist

-

Nickname: Hunter (SFF!Papyrus)

Height: 1’7” taller than you (OR 6’6”)

Eye-lights: English violet (#563C5C)

Magic Specialty: Purple, cyan, red

Scars/distinguishing marks: None

Preferred Style: Rugged bad boy…but not too bad, of course, perfectly safe and approachable. Comfort and function are more important to him than style, but he’s good at working within those confines to make himself look good, and exactly the right amount of ‘dangerous’ to be interesting but not really threatening. Tends toward natural, earthy tones (greens, grays, and browns), solid colors, and little to no ostentation.

Outerwear: Hooded jackets and sweatshirts, usually leather for his outermost and something lighter underneath, but a big fan of being able to put the hood up or down to obscure his face a little or just change his vibe from spooky to chill or vice versa

Top: Athletic shirts, usually long sleeved and thumb-holes a bonus, but a good amount of tank tops and sweaters too

Bottom: Joggers and cargo pants mostly, but some sweatpants and even a pair of shorts or two (though those are usually layered with athletic tights for running)

Footwear: Cross trainers with some hiking boots in reserve, just to be prepared for other terrains

Trademark accessory/accessories: Fingerless gloves, the kind that are open and don’t circle the base of each finger. He likes having his digits free, but his palms warm and covered

[paramaline]

riven remake is CRAZY GOOD so far, just the right balance of fidelity and nostalgia vs. cool new stuff + quality of life tweaks made with 27 added years of game design knowledge in mind. opened that first spinning dome before actually finding any clues like "heh you can't stop me i remember how this zoetrope works 😏" and then had my brain absolutely blasted. iykyk. and the thing with that long ass bridge was SOOOO CHEEKY I LOVED IT. like the game is more approachable and less pointlessly obtuse, but whenever my hubris starts to kick in it pulls the rug out from under me in a really enjoyable way. cyan baby you've still got it

[youredreamingofroo]

𓆩 Character Association 𓆪

- - [ ROO ]

[ Thank you @buttertrait and @flovoid for the tag!!! I loved reading yall's 🥹🫶 ]

- - - -

εїз - EMOTIONS/FEELINGS

➭ Tender, gloomy, infatuation, aloof

εїз - COLORS

➭ Black, white, purple, blue, cyan... most cool colors lol

εїз - SCENTS

➭ Rain, a stuffy room, apples, inexpensive/"average" brand cologne (like something you'd find in a Walmart or Target), raspberry danish pastries, hair dye (the scent) and just like... home? Very general and subjective ikik but I just heavily associate him with home 😵‍💫

εїз - OBJECTS

➭ Rugs, plants, fidget toys, CDs&DVDs of movies and shows, neon lights/LEDs, hair dye (the bottle/packaging? ig?), cracked phones, skylights

εїз - BODY LANGUAGE

➭ Squinting, hands in pockets, head resting in hands, off and on eye contact, lip biting, talking with hands, full body laughing, cracking of knuckles

εїз - AESTHETICS

➭ Webcore, voidcore, thriftcore, '80s/'90s vintagecore(? idk), lovecore, indie, gloomcore, grunge, maximalism/cluttercore (website that i found these from)

I'm tagging @groovetrys - @circusjuney - @gamyrmaiden - @miralure - @torissims - and whoever else wants to do this :) (if you've already done this or dont want to, feel free to skip)

[madmanwonder]

(Prompt, Superhero AU, Truth Serum) While Tarzan is still feeling the effects of the Truth Serum that he had to drink, Queen La uses this opportunity to ask if he desires her body. To see if she can use that.

John Clayton, aka Tarzan glared heatedly at the wicked white-haired woman. She gave him a wicked smile of mirth as she stare at him with confidence in her cyan eyes.

"Such anger, Beloved." She giggled. "I dare not assume that your wrathful nature doesn't translate in your desire for my body~?" The ruler and high priestess of Opar asked in a mockingly teasing tone of voice as she look at the rugged, handsome, heroic jungle warrior.

"You're right to assume my anger toward you translate strong desire for your body." Tarzan replied, shocked at the response he gave to the now pleased priestess-ruler.

[mhcoolfacts]

Monster Hunter concepts Pt. 7: Big Mouthed baddies

Well I have been a year without posting but got the inspiration again so here we go, today is the turn for two odd Leviathans from the third generation: Nibelsnarf and Gobul!

Let's start with Gobul, the Lantern Fish Wyvern, as you may have noticed from its massive mouth and bioluminiscent bulb, it is based on an anglerfish, but this monster from the flooded forest hides more than it meets the eye. And not just figuratively, because if you played MH3 or 3U you will know this monster hides beneath the bottom to ambush its prey, using the whiskers on its lower jaw (not its lantern) as bait and camouflage to catch unwary herbivores such as Epioth! Its combination of monkfish, frogfish and ray traits really tell us that it isn't a good swimmer, and as a bonus, this monster can inflate its back like a pufferfish, covering its back with toxic needles that paralyze its victims. Truly a smart combination of odd fishies, unfortunately, while it is a very interesting monster both in looks and behavior, its fight is rather boring and a lot of players are not fans of Gobul, and with no underwater in newer games, our beloved Gobul might not see the light (pun intended) again.

For its etymology, "Gobul" is an aberration of Gobble, a very fitting name for a monster that swallows its prey whole. The original name in Japanese is Chanagaburu, the Gaburu part is the same, while the Chana part comes from Virochana, which is a Sanskrit word that means illuminating.

Speaking of monsters that love to gobble things, Nibelsnarf is not really a monster that bothers to nibble its prey, despite the name. I am no expert, but I am fairly sure Nibelsnarf was designed originally as a land version of Gobul, both have the same body plan, with their main trait being its gigantic mouth, however, their design differences both in looks and combat are notorious.

Honestly I am not the biggest fan of Nibelsnarf, while I find the giant salamander idea nice, the execution isn't the best. There is just too much going on for my taste: it has gills that "absorb nutrients" from the sand (why), a lower jaw covered in holes to filter sand (what about the gills?), a back covered in rugged plating and in the shape of a dune (okay?), a bulbous nose (to detect vibrations?), and a vibrant lower side of contrasted dark patterns intertwined with cyan and yellow in a similar way to Volvidon. With the big nose and bright gills it ends up looking like a clown, overall, all these fancy traits do not combine despite the reasoning behind them. A thing I love about it, however, is its equipment, which has a really cool military theme with weapons resembling stuff like military knifes and grenades.

Now regarding its etymology, this monster reached the western audience in 3U with the name Nibelsnarf, while MH Portable 3rd players knew it before from its Japanese name Hapurubokka. Nibelsnarf did cause a bit of a commotion because the origin of the name is, and I quote, "Nibble, nibble, snarf, snarf!", love it, or hate it. Meanwhile "Hapurubokka" is a combination of Harpoon (a type of missile) and Bocca, which is mouth in Italian.

Would you like these monsters to return in the future? Or rather that they bite the dust :P

[true-blue-sonic]

Drabble based on @wonderinc-sonic​‘s tags on the ask I got about Silver’s gloves and cuffs and whether or not those two items are attached!

Word count: 1019 words

~~~~~~

 “Today’s done. Finally, honestly.”

With a groan Sonic flops himself onto the couch in Tails’ living room, his body stinging and complaining just a bit. Another battle with Eggman, a heart-pounding race with Metal Sonic which of course had ended in Sonic’s favour, an epic defeat for the madman who’d been blasted away by the explosion of his new toy...

But as battles tend to go, injuries are unavoidable, and Sonic grimaces as he clenches his upper arm and gives his aching shoulder a roll. That is going to be hurting for a while.

Silver is looking equally dishevelled, grey fur marred with thin cuts Sonic had forced him to clean and a painful-looking bruise on his muzzle. “But we won,” the younger hedgehog brings up, sinking into the couch as well. His quills flop all over his head, as if he’s unable to put the subconscious energy in them to keep them in their usual slightly-raised state; despite everything, it makes Sonic laugh. He himself probably doesn’t look much better.

“You’re welcome to stay here. Tails won’t mind if we crash on the couch," the speedster assures his pal, leaning down to fiddle with his shoes before kicking them off underneath the coffee table. Tails does mind unattended footwear and unwashed clothing laying around, but Tails also is not here to scold him, and thus Sonic’s gloves get flung onto the heap as well. Pushing one of the couch’s pillows in place with his elbow to sink his head on it Sonic grins at the time traveller. What the speedster himself is doing now is already breaking multiple of Tails’ house rules; if Silver were to put his shoes on the couch to sleep with, the young genius might just get peeved. “But you do need to take off your shoes, and maybe your gloves and cuffs too. That won’t be nice to sleep with, right?”

“It’s doable,” the easy response comes, as if Silver’s done it his whole life already. That probably is the case, but the younger hedgehog still leans down to obediently pull off his fancy boots and let them float beside Sonic’s shoes. He pulls on his gloves next, and Sonic’s eyes, which have begun sinking shut already with the promise of rest finally here, fly right open at the noise it elicits.

Most recognisable in a way Sonic can’t put his finger on, but also as if Silver’s glove has gotten torn right in half.

Shooting his body up on one elbow Sonic studies his friend. “What was that?”

“Hm?”

One glove laying on his lap Silver tugs on the other... and Sonic stares, incredulously, as the psychic pushes his cuff up and the ripping noise resounds again. But Silver’s gloves seem mostly unharmed as they get carefully laid down beside Sonic’s pile of items...? Sleep forgotten immediately the speedster leans closer to inspect them... before laughing, softly, as his fingers brush past the part of the glove Silver keeps around his wrist.

“Silv, are your gloves attached to your cuffs with velcro?”

“What is that,” the time traveller responds, clicking open his cuffs as well and placing them on the table tenderly. A scrutiny of those tells Sonic all he needs to know; a strip of soft lining covers the inside, whereas the gloves’ edges are much more rugged and coarse to drag his bare fingers over. And as Sonic picks them up under Silver’s suspicious glare and pushes them together, the hooks and loops of the two fasten together firmly.

“Huh,” the speedster remarks most amusedly. “I know they took velcro to space, but it’s nice to see they still make use of it even in the future.”

A spark of cyan swats at his hands, the items pulled away again. “Stop that. That stuff is just useful, you know? It doesn’t come apart unless I pull at it first,” Silver huffs, clearly not understanding the honestly-not-that-big-but-still-pretty-cool implications of Sonic’s discovery about how people in the future live.

“Hehe, certainly. But doesn’t it get stuck in your fur if you’re not careful?”

Lips pursing Silver makes a displeased grumbling noise, his hand drifting over his chest fluff betraying everything Sonic needs to know. “Only sometimes. And I’ve always gotten it loose again!”

Deciding he’s tormented his cranky friend enough – Silver clearly is exhausted, and Sonic himself too – Sonic sinks back onto the couch again, kicking a pillow towards the psychic to use as headrest. “Luckily velcro is not that sticky,” he mediates. “But it’s cool to see that there’s some things people still use decades into the future, just because it’s so convenient.”

“That is neat,” Silver agrees amidst a huge yawn, fussing with the pillow before his head sinks down on it and golden eyes peer at the large, cyan-lined cuffs one more time. “And it means that I’ll never lose my gloves. That is neat too.”

“Sure is. And if you ever need to have the strips replaced, just ask Amy.”

Silver merely mumbles something back, chest already rising and falling slowly, and Sonic lays his head down and immediately joins him in resting... only to dream of Silver entangled in a strip of velcro, pitifully fastened stuck and requiring some elbow grease from Sonic’s side to free him again.

Explaining during breakfast just why he can’t stop laughing every time he takes a look at Silver’s hands nets Sonic a velcroed glove tangled completely in his own quills and angry huffs galore about how there is nothing funny about gloves and cuffs that use velcro to attach themselves, before Silver can see the humour in it all anyway and begins laughing as well...

Even if it doesn’t make it more fun to remove said glove from Sonic’s spines again.

But that is simply the price Sonic has to pay to be one of the two people who knows the inhabitants of the future still make use of velcro, the speedster muses to himself as he and Silver fight to pull some wayward stuck quills from the barbed strip on Silver’s glove, and surely that is worth something also.

@spinn-dashh​