#dark copper pendant lights

[pixelatedsnuggles]

Los Angeles Pantry

Ideas for a mid-sized, single-wall, modern kitchen pantry remodel with stainless steel appliances, a peninsula, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, quartzite countertops, white backsplash, and ceramic backsplash.

[autumnlesterhowell]

Pantry - Modern Kitchen

[flavorsims]

Midcentury Bedroom - Bedroom Large master bedroom from the 1960s with a medium tone wood floor, brown walls, and a wood ceiling, white walls, and no fireplace.

[katanra]

Enclosed Dining Room Boise Example of a large country enclosed dining room design with white walls

[daisywarriors]

Chicago L-Shape Home Bar Example of a mid-sized mountain style l-shaped light wood floor seated home bar design with dark wood cabinets, granite countertops and an undermount sink

[shamardj]

Single Wall Home Bar Example of a mid-sized trendy single-wall dark wood floor wet bar design with an undermount sink, open cabinets, white cabinets and quartz countertops

[jessicaschein]

Enclosed Dining Room (Boise)

[dentistnewmanalapan]

Traditional Kitchen - Kitchen

[shesarmed]

Single Wall - Home Bar

[jasperthehatchet]

Some necklaces and bracelets I made a while ago. Thought I'd post them here for solarpunk aesthetic week 🌿☀️🌻🌿

[Image ID: the first image is of three bracelets. One made of three silver metal beads in between one reddish wood bead (thats the pattern), the second is completely made out of safety pins and the last one is made of green wooden oval beads that I weaved yarn through to connect them so they all lay vertically next to each other.

The next image is of a large piece of twine layered over itself, a necklace, with random colorful glass, wood and metal beads scattered all throughout it about an inch apart from each other. They're held in place on the twine with knots so they don't slide around.

The third image is a necklace with a light colored leather cord, with varying colors and shapes of wooden beads on both sides of the pendant. The pendant is an aged gold colored metal sun with a black crystal center. The colors of the beads include dark brown, light brown and in between, with two different sized sphere shapes and lighter tube shaped ones.

The fourth image is of two necklaces almost identical to each other. Both have five small wood beads on both sides of the pendants near the bottom, and multiple small green wood beads tied onto the thin twine cord almost an inch apart from each other. Both pendants are smooth stones, one is a yellow triangle shape and one is a dark grayish blue sharp tooth shape.

The next necklace is on a light colored leather cord. The pendant is a light pink jade donut shaped stone and the beads are varying sizes of wooden beads that are light brown and green with some metal ones in there. The bead closest to the pendant at the bottom holding both sides of the cord together is a white plastic bead with a black spiral design and there are two metal tube beads splitting the cord into two sections, then the rest of the beads are strung up from there

The final necklace is made of varying colors and shapes of steampunk gears. There are bronze, silver and green oxidized copper ones all about the size of a quarter. Some are a little bigger than that. They're all attached to each other in a chain linked together with large silver jump rings and the part that hangs it from the neck is made of silver necklace chain. End ID]

And here's two soda tab arm cuffs I made as well

[Image ID: two images of large bracelets/arm cuffs I weaved out of silver aluminum soda tabs, using black cord. I don't really know how to describe how I made them but it's the same method people use to make soda tab belts as well. End ID]

I have a hard time describing things or wording stuff correctly so I hope my image descriptions are sufficient. If anyone reading my posts can do better, please don't be afraid to add more detailed ones in the reblogs or comment, I will reblog them and/edit my posts to add them as well <3

[the-kr8tor]

Seafoam on the shore

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.8k

Tags: Use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW drinking, CW food mentions, TW injury.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 1 >>> CHAPTER 2

You run as fast as you can, your feet flying off the muddy uneven streets. Huffing while a local copper yells at you to stop, his yells get more exhausted every second he chases after you. So far he isn't even near you, one of the few benefits of staying at a provincial fishing town is that the police are either too out of shape to catch you, their bellies round, definitely full of ale. Or they simply don't give a damn about a pickpocket, muttering to themselves how they're not paid enough to do a city cop's job.

Losing your balance, you silently curse at your worn down work boots. Sliding off the ground, skidding off down the streets, disturbing the hustle and bustle of the market. You hit a vegetable cart along the way, wood splintering, scratching your arms. Cabbages and carrots fly off, there's yelling and screaming around you and your legs are aching from the impact.

“Sorry!” You yell back to a disgruntled vendor.

He curses at you and your entire family for ruining his sale. You take a mental note to pay him back somehow when you're not currently occupied.

Digging your heels in, you come to a halt, you're lucky enough to get a hold on a lamp post. Glancing behind, you don't see the cop running after you but you're not taking any chances so you enter a tight alleyway. You know this village like the back of your hand, you have to or else seeing the inside of the jail would be waiting for you in the future.

Knowing there’s a pipe somewhere along the walls, you run your muddy hands along the bricks, the cramp walls touching your back and chest, you stop when your nail hits something metallic.

Your ears perk up at someone snitching, “fuck” without hesitation, you climb up the rusty pipe.

Hands digging into the metal. It creaks and groans, but it seems like lady luck is on your side when you reach the top with no problems.

Hearing hurried footsteps down below, you immediately lie low on the roof. Hiding yourself from his gaze. The cop glances around the alley, scratching his head, confused as to how you escaped without a trace.

“Damn” he mutters, completely winded.

You smile to yourself as he leaves. The sun bares at your back, cotton blouse sticking to your skin. Needing a bath is an understatement.

Standing up, you carefully tread the roof, avoiding floors that look damaged. You definitely don't want a repeat incident of what happened six villages ago. You can never get used to the view from up high, the sea blends in with the orange sky, melting together, blues, greens and reds mingle in harmony. The setting sun paints a picturesque scenery, draping everything it touches in its heavenly light.

Ships and fishing boats float above the waves as if they're dancing to the sound of the water splashing on its wooden sides.

Your hands instinctively reach for the necklace hidden under your blouse. Fingers tracing the etching of a flying bird that you know like the back of your hand.

Despite the open sea, you can't help but feel trapped. The docks beckon you over to somewhere you can't remember, somewhere where you can rest in peace, somewhere across the deep dark treacherous sea are people you can call your home. People who may have been looking for you all this time. Their faces are but a blur in your mind, voices a mere echo lingering in your heart. The pendant leaves a circular indent on your palms as you grip it tight.

Is it possible to miss someone you don't even remember?

Your train of thought gets interrupted by movement from a ship floating along the dock, a large sailboat whose wood differs from each one of its structures. You can tell from how some of it is painted gold and silver like the ones on royal ships, it looks like it was hastily hammered into regular oak with intricate carvings. Some wood blends better together, dark timber melding with ashen wood. Three cannons are lined on the sides, its metal having seen better days, no longer glimmering in the sunlight.

From where you're standing, the figurehead on the bow looks peculiar, like nothing you've ever seen traveling along coastal towns. A fierce creature with sharp teeth opening its jaws, eyes wide and alert. Its red scaly skin adds to its terrifying image. What's more peculiar is the lack of flag flying on its mast. An unknown ship from an unknown place tickles your curiosity.

You slink back down on the roof when a woman emerges from below deck, her blond hair shining under the sun. Another much taller one follows behind her. Raven colored hair flowing in the soft wind. They seem to be arguing, but you're completely bewildered as to how they're allowed to sail. All this time, you can't believe that you can actually step foot inside a boat, moreso sail on it.

This changes everything, you suppose.

You leave the roof, letting the women argue amongst themselves. Expertly hopping from awning to canopy, you land at your final destination, the White Salmon pub.

Jumping down, you land on a cart full of broken fishing nets, it's a miracle that you weren't tangled under all the mess.

Entering the rowdy pub, the smell of ale and pickled fish enters your nostrils. A bunch of sailors sing off key in the middle, too drunk to care about the ruckus they're making. You try to blend in with the drunk crowd, hiding behind people, weaving around them to sneak past the bar and upto the stairs leading up to your room.

“Oi! did ya think I wouldn't notice ya?”

You stop just about the foot of the stairs. Groaning in exasperation, quickly taking off the bandana tied around your face to conceal half of your face. You try your best to put your best smile, turning your charm up to a hundred.

“Hi, aunty Janet” you walk towards her like a child caught with their hands inside the cookie jar. “I got the butter you asked”

Janet huffs, eyes narrowed, her brows furrowed. You place the stick of butter in front of her like an offering to appease an angry God.

“Please don't tell me the coppers will be knocking on my doors again”

“That was one time! Besides I actually paid for this one” you push the butter towards her with your finger. She stares at it like you're giving her contraband.

You give her one charming smile, she sighs, taking the butter from the counter. “You're on thin ice, Y/N. Don't make me regret taking you in.”

“That was a year ago and look, I'm still here!”

“A year and a half, I counted because with every shit ya manage to pull, a strand of my hair turns white.” she points at her hair that's almost completely white. “This used to be black”

“I know, I'm sorry. I just need to–”

“To what? It always seems like you're hiding shit from me and Thena” She tries to hold your hand on the counter but you flinch away.

“Won't happen again, I promise.” A clear lie on your part, you'll just have to be better at sneaking. You vault over the counter to roll up your sleeves, clean yourself up and put on your apron.

“When will you learn, girl?”

“When the king sentences me to death himself!” grabbing an empty tray, you start clearing a nearby table. Janet pinches the bridge of her nose.

After dodging rowdy customers and a flying pint, Thena takes a break with you in the tiny corner of the tavern. She unabashedly sighs loudly, smelling of ale and lavender she hastily rubbed on to mask the scent of alcohol.

You side eye her with a tired smile, Thena sighs again, louder this time, a few patrons gaze your way.

“Alright, what's wrong?”

“Oh nothin' it's just Arthur's back again and he hasn't even glanced my way”

You flick your eyes towards the blonde patron nursing a pint, his green eyes meet yours, he smiles with his yellow teeth and you look away immediately, not from embarrassment, no, but from how you don't want his eyes on you.

Why in the world is Thena so smitten by someone like Arthur who comes and goes into the pub more than he goes inside a bathroom?

“You could do better, Thena. One that actually brings in coins instead of using them all in the pub or a brothel.”

“I know,” she sighs once again. Leaning closer to your side so you slide further away. “But he's the fittest bloke here though” whining, she puffs out her cheeks.

As if some divine comedy, Arthur beckons you over with a twist of his hand. You internally cringe.

Thena gasps, “I think he's finally taking notice of me!” She stands up, sauntering over to his table with the confidence of a newborn deer.

Before you could rescue her though, Janet yells at you from the other side of the room. “Get back to work, Y/N!” She signals with head, pointing towards a table by the corner.

You groan, lumbering your way towards the customers. His large back is turned away from you, brown hair neatly slicked back, clothes looking too neat and expensive for a dingy pub like the white salmon. His companion thumps her head on the wall lightly like she's trying to get water out of her ears. Her hair is cut short, glasses over her almond shaped eyes, clothes equally looking expensive but less neat than her large companion.

Her lips turn upwards once she sees you. “Finally some service” she stretches her legs out, noting how she's wearing trousers instead of the usual frilly skirts rich women wear.

“Sorry, what can I do for you?” You put on your customer service voice that's laced with mild annoyance. The man sits still like a rock, his back still turned away from you.

“Fish and chips, some pickled eggs and a pint.” She glances at her friend before groaning with a sly smirk. “And he'll have plain porridge, no seasoning, just porridge. It's better if it's days old. Right, Miguel?”

The man huffs, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. The single candle light on the table illuminates his chiseled face, turning his eyes crimson.

“A pint will do” his voice is gruff yet calm.

There's alarm bells ringing in your head, the tray falls from your shaking hands. Your heart thumps louder than the clanking metal.

“Careful there, it's bad to drink on the job” His friend’s comment falls on deaf ears as you stare at the man before you. His expression doesn't change except for how his eyebrows lift slightly.

It's been years, surely he doesn't recognize me as an adult, right?

You clear your throat, mustering the best smile you can do. “Sorry about that, I'll get your orders right away” leaning down to take the tray from the sticky floors, your necklace slips out of your blouse, the gold shimmering in the candle light.

He could burn you with just his stare.

Walking briskly, clutching the tray, its metal is uncomfortably cold on your skin. The pub seems to get louder and louder with every footstep, the laughter and rowdy singing makes you dizzy. Janet calls after you as you run up the stairs to your room.

Thinking fast, you lock the door, pushing your dresser to further lock it. Your mind races to the floorboards beneath your threadbare bed. With your bare hands you hastily take the wood out revealing a hollow hole containing your possessions.

There's loud booming footsteps climbing up the stairs. Followed by his voice calling your name.

“Fuck” without thinking, you take the bag from its hiding place, slinging it over your shoulder before you cross the small space to the window.

“Y/N, Please!” He keeps calling after you. “Let me just,” thump, “fuck!”

That's your signal to jump down.

Landing on your heels, you feel your knees aching from the fall. You hear your bedroom door slam open with a force that surely broke its hinges.

You run like you've ran from him like last time.

Suddenly, you're thirteen years old, weaving through the forest, vines prickling your legs as you wade through the thicket. White lilies are but a blur as tears flow freely from your eyes as you keep running without a destination.

Why? Aren't you enough? Did she not love you like you thought she did? What did you do to deserve being abandoned twice?

You're back to the present when he yells your name again. Your heart pounds loudly on your ribcage, lungs burning, you feel like you're about to collapse.

His companion also runs after you, screaming your name desperately.

But you have the upperhand. Using the moon as your guide, you climb up a house, its bricks protruding out of the walls, the place you used to climb to practice, but now you climb it to save your own skin.

Running from roof to roof, you feel a presence behind you. His thunderous footsteps echo into the cold night. You don't dare look behind.

The woman follows you from the ground, her heels clicking on the uneven sidewalk. “Y/N! Wait up–shit!” Without looking down, you hear her fall.

He screams your name again, the same one she called you back then.

You run furiously, jumping off the side only to keep running towards the docks. Panicking, you see a ship leaving the docks, its fishing net left hanging on the side. Without thinking, you make a break for it.

Sprinting on the old docks, you leap the huge gap. Miraculously, you take hold of the net, clinging to it with all your might. Entering the net, you ignore the smell of fish, watching as the place you once called home gets smaller and smaller.

You say goodbye to Janet, who kindly took you in without asking for anything in return. Who gave you a job and a room so you don't freeze and starve outside. Who took care of you when you fell ill to the cold.

You say goodbye to Thena, the only friend you've ever had, the longest friend you've ever had. The same Thena who taught you how to sew and mend your own clothes. Thena who taught you how to throw a punch when a handsy sailor tries to touch you.

Thena whom you've grown accustomed to calling you her sister.

You say goodbye to the fishing town you've only recently called your home.

You say goodbye to the man at the docks who's staring at your fleeing form, whose eyes are narrowed, almost pleading for you to come back.

A/N: There's no Hobie appearance in this chapter yet :( (next chapter though 👀)

Hope you like it, thank you for reading!

[gothic-thoughts]

Date Night

(IM IN DISTRESS)

Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader Fluff

DatingAU, DomesticAU

CW: disrespectful waiter, jealous Nanami, Nanami spoiling you(😫)

Word Count: 1043

The elevator doors open, anticlimactically releasing a few people before revealing my beautiful date. She was slightly taller now, courtesy of the blue heels that matched her knee-length dress. My lips parted slightly, knees weakening as she looked up from her watch, displaying the purple lipstick that compliments her bracelet. She grins brightly and strolls out, readjusting the purse strap on her shoulder.

"(Y/n)...you...."

"Take a picture, Kento." (Y/n) giggles, "It'll last longer."

"I was considering it," I chuckle, "I was just wondering how you manage to look so beautiful on every date we've been on."

"Black girl magic."

"Well, tonight, I have some magic of my own."

I take out a small box and open it, displaying the golden necklace I bought; my way of making our relationship more official despite it only being our 2nd date. She gasps, mouth remaining open as she gently takes the box and pulls out the chain, finding an elliptical pendant with "Darling" engraved in tiny diamonds.

"Kento, oh my god." She all but whispers, "Already? I mean, you don't think--"

"It's too soon?" I finish, gently taking the necklace to put it on her, "No, I don't."

"I mean, I'm not denying but more gifts? I feel bad, you already gave me flowers on our last date and we're at another fancy restaurant."

"Who said pretty women stop getting pretty things?" I wink, holding out my arm for her, "Shall we?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After ordering, the waiter gently sets (Y/n)'s food down with a wink in her direction before setting mine down more roughly. I raise my eyebrow at him as he walks away but ultimately refocus on the beautiful woman before me, copper skin glowing in the warm light of the place when he returns with a bottle of wine. 

"More wine, beautiful?"

(Y/n) chuckles, caught off guard, "Uh, yes, thank you."

He looked her in her eyes as he slowly poured the crimson liquid into the stemmed glass, a flirtatious smirk was very much present on his lips before fading to a grimace when he reluctantly filled my glass. I'm noticing a pattern. Am I inconveniencing him? I shake my head from my thoughts again and sip my wine, watching (Y/n) as she blissfully took another bite.

I smile softly, “Seems like you're enjoying yourself."

"It's so good." She groans, throwing her head back slightly, “I heard the food was delicious here, but I never had it."

"I know, my love. I have pages and pages of texts with you gushing about it." I chuckle, "That's why I scheduled a reservation."

"But I never thought you would, much less for a 2nd date." She looks at me with awe, lowering her fork, "Thank you so much; you didn't have to do this.”

“No need to thank me, love. All you have to do is ask."

"But I didn't even ask, Ken."

"Then I guess you don't have to ask." I wink, "Maybe I would've spoiled you like this anyway."

"On our 2nd date?"

"This could be our 10th date and that wouldn't stop me from treating you like the royalty you are."

The upper portion of her cheeks pools with dark red as she plays with her necklace. She's just so....god I hope I don't get a call. After talking and laughing with her for about half an hour, our bold server returned and placed a platter of slices of various cakes in between our empty plates. Oh great. Maybe I'm just being a bit jealous. How could I already be acting like this when we met only a month ago? Maybe cuz I know I could be called away for a damn curse at any minute.

"Uh..." (Y/n) pointed to the cakes, "We didn't order this."

He winks at her yet again, "It's on the house, ma'am." 

"Oh..." She looks at me worriedly, "Are you s--?"

"No, it's fine, gorgeous. Thank you, my date and I appreciate it. We'll take the check now though."

"Sure."

And another eye-roll. I mean, it's only natural for him to stare; she's the most stunning person in here. But I don't like him flirting with her like I'm not sitting right here. I think his nickname even made her uncomfortable. I look up at her to read her face only to see her take a bite of strawberry-topped cake with a satisfied moan. I smile when noticing the frosting at the corners of her mouth, but it fades when the waiter takes out a napkin.

As he reaches for her face, I stand abruptly and delicately wipe away the frosting at the edge of her mouth and I wink at her just to see those chubby cheeks flush for me. I glare at the waiter as I set the money on the check before firmly taking my date's hand and quickly guiding her out the restaurant. In the parking lot, she tugged on my arm forcing me to stop walking and look at her.

"Ken, I'm alright."

"I'm sorry, he was going to touch you and I just...You noticed, right?"

"Yeah, at first I thought he was being sweet but then he was doing a little too much. Especially with all the winks and stuff."

"He couldn't take his eyes off you for more than a second the whole time."

"Ken--"

"And believe me, I know I've done the same but it's different. Of course, I would spend as much time as possible focusing on my date."

She steps closer, "Nanami...."

"But when I do it, I look with awe at how charming you are. The worst part about it was he was so obvious. It was like he trying to pretend I wasn't there."

(Y/n) grabs my tie, and my eyes widen as her lips softly link with mine. She makes me moan in surprise when she tugs downward, pulling me closer to her shorter stature to deepen the kiss. My hands rest on her waist before I slide up the left one up her back to hold the back of her neck before she pulled away with a smile.

"I...I'm...rambling."

"I know, that's why I shut you up."

"I'm sorry, jealousy's not something that usually consumes me like that."

"You wanna...." She walks her fingers up my chest, "Go somewhere reserved?"

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, "I think some alone time could clear my head."

"You think it's quieter at my place or yours?"

"Mine."

[vampire-exgirlfriend]

Visenya raged.

Rage was all that was left, black and red creeping over her vision as her hands shook with the need to unsheathe Dark Sister and cut down all who stood in the room, their beady eyes watching every twitch of muscle as she paced.

“Would that you could join me,” Rhaenys hummed, leaning back against Visenya’s chest, her delicate hands coming to wring the bath water from her hair, molten gold in the candle light. The steam curled around them, more like smoke than water, and she had never looked more beautiful.

Visenya snorted. “Dorne is too hot for the likes of me.” She rested her chin against her sister’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her, the water sloshing over the edge of the great copper tub. In truth, she did not want her to go, did not want them to be separated. Aegon was foolish when Rhaenys was not near, melancholy and full of malaise. Not even Orys could pull him from his moods.

The younger woman turned her head, pressing her lips to Visenya’s cheek. “Fire cannot kill a dragon,” she murmured, licking at a bead of sweat that trailed down her temple.

The doors to the throne room opened, two kingsguard heaving them apart as Aegon strode through, his head held high even as his eyes were wet.

She wanted to tear the crown from his head, to beat him with it until he was so much ruined meat before her.

Rhaenys' back arched off the bed, her slender fingers pulling at the sheets beneath. The moonlight poured over her skin, liquid silver and shadow, and Visenya had never loved her more. She kissed each scar, each freckle and beauty mark that dotted her soft skin, skin so much softer than her own, tongue laving and teeth nipping until Rhaenys hissed a command. “Kiss me,” she said. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.” Visenya swallowed the words down.

There was nothing that could keep Visenya from launching herself at her king, her brother, her husband. Her hands found the fabric of his doublet and she shook him. His violet eyes, lighter than her own, yet so much darker than their sister’s, looked down at her impassively, as if the fire that roared through her at their loss was a mere inconvenience.

Resplendent in her light armor, red and gold scaled leather, Rhaenys shone like a beacon from atop Meraxes. The Valyrian runes Visenya had woven through her braids caught the sunlight, reflecting it back at them. She pressed three fingers to her lips and Aegon smiled up at her, as if that kiss was meant for him. Visenya tugged gently at the pendant she wore, a single teardrop ruby set in Valyrian steel, twin to the one Rhaenys wore. Her sister touched her own necklace, grinning wide, and bade her dragon take to the sky, to Dorne.

“It should have been you!” she snarled, her teeth only inches from his throat. Visenya heard the clang of metal as his guards stepped forward, but Aegon held up a hand to halt their approach, and all she could do was laugh, the manic sound bouncing between the stone and stained glass windows. As if they could stop her from having her vengeance, as if they could hope to stand against her and the tidal wave of her pain. She would bring that pain down on them like the sea her Velaryon mother commanded, like the dragonfire they inherited from their father. “It should have been you,” she cried again, her voice losing volume, stuck somewhere in her throat. Aegon’s hands came to grasp gently at her elbows and she sagged against him, pressed her face against his chest that still smelled of Rhaenys' perfume. “It should have been you.” She was not the wife he had wanted. He was not the husband she had wanted. All that connected them was lost now. “It should have been me.” The words came out in a whisper and Visenya wept.

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Fainted Memories

Rating: Teen And Up Characters: Peach, Mario Tags: Sickfic, Sick Princess Peach, Implied/Referenced Violence, Angst, POV Second Person

Summary: Peach wakes up in her bed feeling incredibly disoriented. It takes her a bit to fully remember what had happened to get her there.

Prompt: 6. Dizziness/Vertigo

Word Count: 675 words

A/N: Thanks to @vulpixfairy1985 for letting me borrow her “Mario and Luigi have matching dog tag pendants (with matching affirming catchphrases)” headcanon for a (small) detail here! 🙂

[AO3 Link]

~~~

When you open your eyes, memories come back to you in bursts and fragments.

Running, shouting, red-red-red on off-white stones. A glint of silver, darkened green; a searing light, copper and bile on your tongue; your ears ringing, your world twisting, fading, hands on your shoulders fading with it. And something beyond the memories, something important; a missing link that both brings them together and gives them meaning, yet stubbornly hovers just out of reach.

But now it’s the gray of your ceiling, the dark pink of your bedsheets, the light pink curtains over your bed. You turn your head, a throbbing behind your temples. A spot of brown rests by your pillow, pillowed itself by a red arm.

You sigh, air through a dry throat. The spot moves, and drowsy blue eyes rise to meet yours, snapping into focus and fragility all at once. Your gaze drifts from them to catch the frayed edge of a white glove. You blink, and it's gone, tanned hand reaching for your cheek.

The touch grounds you, and you come back to yourself enough to feel the echoes of an absence inside you, on inhale, on exhale, an ache stretching out and wrapping around bone and muscle and marrow. You look down at your own chest, at the cavernous void you expect to see instead of your nightgown. You try to raise your arm to prod at it; not even your fingers respond to your attempt. Your hand is moved for you, to press against your sternum, to feel your intact heart beating beneath.

A voice passes through your mind, old and weathered and familiar, though its words are too muddy to parse. Its tone, however, feels scolding, and you frown. The warmth at your face pulls away, and you raise your head to see where it went.

There’s a face staring back at you. Round, with shiny eyes and a large nose and a messy mustache and — Mario. You say the name aloud, to punctuate the realization. The sound doesn't make it past your throat. Mario’s lips twitch.

His hand strokes your hair, lulling you into a doze. Through half-lidded eyes, you see him reach beyond your head and come back with something clutched in his hand. It’s green. He shakes it out and something silver falls free with a jingle; it swings from where it's tied around his wrist, catching the sunlight and flashing it into your eyes. When you blink the spots away Mario's removed his hand from your head to juggle both the silver and the green — the pendant and the hat — and he twists his arm and there's a faint discoloration above the hat’s brim, a darkened spot that's bloomed from its emblem, and at the same time the pendant is wrangled and tucked back under his sleeve — red — which is pulled up to his glove — off-white — and something in between your ears rings as memories tug at you, and the missing link between them snaps into place all at once and —

— and you’re sitting upright, and the world is twisting around you; hands on your shoulders keep you from twisting along with it. Bile and copper on your tongue, you struggle against your body to stand, to go, to draw from the well of magic inside you and push it —

The well is empty. The discovery sends echoes of agony through your skull, your chest, your bones and muscles and marrow; you dig deeper still for something, anything, and hands cover yours, snuffing out the remnants of what you're able to gather. You struggle against it all, breaths turning ragged, desperate, clawing at the consciousness slipping through your fingers faster than you can hold it — you can't lose it now; you need to stay awake, you need to gather every last drop of magic you can and go beyond your limits and give everything you have up to and including your own lifeforce if you don't if you can't if you fail then he’ll — he’ll — you can't — you won't —

...

...

...

(you lose consciousness.)

[sixisnotaprettynumber]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁    𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂 :

COLOR.       ——       red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal.  silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory.

ELEMENTAL.      ——        fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

BODY.       ——       claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

WEAPONRY.        ——       fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles.

MATERIAL.        ——        gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds.  amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

NATURE.       ——       grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

ANIMALS.       ——       lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs.

FOOD & DRINK.      ——      sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

HOBBIES.       ——        music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

STYLE.       ——       lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar.

MISC.       ——        balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirror. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. embracing. [[Tagging: Anyone who is interested]]

[chrislaplante]

PART FOUR

past the brown packing paper there was a box. Chris erroneously thought it was a music box when he first saw it about a month ago at that little shop back in Jersey. his mother brought some light and told him it was a jewelry box, though to Chris, it seemed a bit too big for that. alas, he'd kept the little antique hidden. unsure of when he'd be able to give it to her... along with the little treasures he'd collected inside.

lifting the silver butterfly lock, the cherry wood interior welcomed a sight of multiple things. the first was a small chain, a hand-shaped pendant hanging from it. a flower, a forget-me-not, being held in its gentle grasp. a classic victorian symbol of mourning and remembrance. next to it, a second pendant. this one had a glass, tear-shaped bulb with some type of liquid inside. a small quantity of crimson. he'd have to find a tutorial online for this one. surely, he could make a mess of himself onstage but this wasn't the same thing. this meant something more, this mattered.

there was a third pendant. this last one without a chain or cord. an oval in dark onyx. yet another piece of mourning jewelry he'd come across. not much unlike the brooch that followed. large, oval-shaped too. framed in black, embellishments in a golden copper. lettering that read IN MEMORY OF- there was a picture of a woman at the center. faded, worn by time. cracks and discoloration, now in a shade of yellowing cream. her face remained, however. her gaze lost, as if she knew this would be the portrait they'd use after her death. a last little treasure slid about the box, a ring. not worn by time like the hand or the onyx, certainly not like the brooch. a molar adorning it like a gem. teeth and bones, things he was certain she'd like.

just below the little treasures, a piece of yellowing paper laid facedown. its edges slick, and a date on its back. 1866. when lifted, it showed more sheets beneath it. some with names, some with dates, some with nothing at all. Chris had found them, mourning portraits, at a curiosities shop. weeks ago. he'd gone with her too, but he'd make a second trip on his own. sorrowful faces of women in victorian gowns. two of them with dark veils covering their faces. one completely faceless, the other beautiful, but sad.

as tragic as the pictures were, he knew Helena would find their beauty too.

at the bottom of the box, her name emerged in off-gold text. a dark haired woman with her back to the front of the cover, the image of wings layered upon her back. a book. an accidental find. Chris hadn't read it, but it was its synopsis that, titular name aside, made him think of her. the story of a victorian woman named Helena, a mortician and funeral director. there was a reference to Mary Shelley along the way. she was a reader, he thought, this would make her smile.

a small piece of paper falls from the book. a note. his awful handwriting read: I have one last thing I wanted to include but it didn't fit in the box. Could I see you tonight? - Chris. continued? ->