#furlined

[mensfurstyles]

Handsome black youth teenager wearing big oversized puffy jacket with fur lining and big fur trim. Cute Smiling black boy wearing fur puffer coat smiling, Ai generated

[adkartsboutique]

www.adkartsboutique.com Excited to share the latest addition to my #etsy shop: This is a gorgeous handmade blanket featuring a giraffe on a cloud. It is perfect for a TV blanket. It is very warm and a great blanket for Autumn, Winter, or Spring. It is made from Tunisian crochet and the design features a giraffe on the front sitting on a cloud and it is lined with a soft faux fur on the back that is an awesome light blue. The cloud is a very tight and short brushed fringe. The giraffe is finished with embroidered eyelashes and a tassel tail. A perfect gift idea. #blanket #crochetblanket #afghan #furlined #crochetart #crochetartist #lapblanket #handmade #crochet #giftidea #giraffe #lapblanket https://www.instagram.com/p/CpgAfGROFI3/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

scrolling through pinterest looking for blorbos and i'm like-- hold on I know those forearms

what're you doing here Jaskier you're not a raff OR a penn get outta here!!!

[maidofgoldengrove]

The biggest thing that destroys my immersion when it comes to the Night's Watch....the fact that nobody seems to wear hats???

Like wtf??

Thousands of years at the coldest place in westeros and yet hardly more than a single hat is to be seen???

Frankly this is a book and show issue, but I'm not as surprised that the show doesn't want the hats, even if I still hate it.

No wonder you're all cold

[kleinstar]

❄️!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Send a symbol and my muse will pick an outfit for your muse (NOT ACCEPTING)

" How's that for a winter outfit? "

[50kgannamolly]

[lalacliffthorne]

when there's snow in the middle of the night, it means luck.

(I smell snow. also, this is us manifesting a white christmas time, babes, so - fingers crossed *squeezes eyes shut and crunches nose in concentration* 🎄)

Quietly closing the bathroom door behind me, I rubbed a hand over my face, trudging through the dark hall towards Azriel's bedroom door. The only light was falling in from the living room and the kitchen, and only after staring at it for a second did I realize that it looked strangely bright for three in the morning.

Feeling my brows scrunch in sleep muddled confusion, I slowly came to a halt a few feet away from the bedroom where I had left Azriel under the covers, his arm only slipping away from me when I had pressed a sleepy kiss onto his cheek.

Blinking and raising my head, my eyes found the windows on the other side of the living room, and my breath hitched.

Outside, huge white flocks silently sailed through the air, landing on the balcony that was already covered in a thick blanket of snow.

My lips parted as something in my chest soared, a beaming smile slowly spreading over my face as I slipped into the living room, quietly hurrying towards the windows and feeling my heart rise in a wild flutter when I pressed my nose against the window and stared at the big white snowflakes that were slowly falling outside, covering the street and cars and houses in a thick white layer that reflected the streetlights.

There was a soft, hoarse mutter of my name somewhere behind me, and when I quickly looked over my shoulder, beaming and sleep forgotten as my heart skipped and fluttered, Azriel appeared in the doorway, hair tousled and eyes filled with sleep when he raised his head and stilled a little. His gaze moved over the sight outside, and I saw the moment the haze of sleep slowly lifted from his mind, his shoulders straightening as his eyes trailed after the snowflakes.

A twinkle slowly spread through his iris, and Azriel looked at me. Then he lightly raised a brow.

My heart skipped high, and I started beaming.

A waft of icy cold, crispy air hit my face when I pulled open the door, and my breath hitched, my lips parting as I slowly stepped out onto the sidewalk.

The snow had silenced the city like a thick blanket, muffling the little noise of the night. My pyjama pants, tucked into furlined boots, did little to hold off the cold, but I barely noticed it as I carefully stepped through the pristine, thick layer of snow that covered the cobblestone before raising my head, feeling my heart rising against my ribs as I stared up into the dark night sky, thick snowflakes silently sailing through the golden light of the streetlamps.

There was the sound of snow crunching behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, Azriel stepped out of the door, and something toppled in my chest. His hair was tousled from sleep and sticking out from under his beanie as he raised his head to squint against the snow, and there was the shadow of a crease visible in his cheek. Just like me, he had just thrown on a thick jacket and a scarf, his dark pyjama pants tucked into his black boots, and even though it should've looked ridiculous, something suddenly did flips in my chest as my gaze flickered over him.

Raising my head again, I blinked when a snowflake landed on my lashes and felt a wide smile spread over my face as, even with the cold nipping at my skin, warm giddiness filled my chest, growing with every second.

Turning, I spread my arms and held my face up towards the sky, a giggle building in my chest as I felt snowflakes land on my cheeks, melting slowly into my skin.

Opening my eyes, I stared up into the gently swirling snow and felt my heart swell when I slowly turned on the spot, beaming at the flakes silently sailing to the ground and the thick white layer of snow covering the whole street.

Grinning, I looked over my shoulder, and my heart got caught in my throat.

Azriel was staring at me, snowflakes caught in his hair and melting on his cheeks. In the golden light of the street lamps his eyes glowed, and he looked a little like he'd forgotten how to breathe.

"What?" I felt heat bleed into my cheeks, crunching my nose when a snowflake landed on the tip of it, and Azriel blinked, the corner of his lips slowly tipping upwards. Then he moved towards me, the snow crunching under his boots, and my breath hitched when I tipped my head back slightly to look up at him as he stopped in front of me, so close that our chests touched.

Azriel's gaze dragged over my face, and I distantly wondered if his heart also turned over at the sight of flushed cheeks and snowflakes caught in lashes.

The soft crease next to Azriel's lips deepend, and he raised a hand to carefully brush some snow from my hat. His fingers, warm and rough, brushed against my cheek, then they hooked under my chin, and Azriel dipped his head and pressed his cold, soft lips onto mine.

My breath caught, and I reached out to fist the front of his jacket in my ice cold fingers as heat washed through me. My heart rose in a wild flutter, and Azriel's lips curved against mine. Then he slipped his hands to the back of my neck, tilting my head back and kissing me deeper, and a quiet sound built in the back of my throat as I stretched and kissed back.

Azriel groaned softly and moved closer, until his chest pressed into mine and I had to cling to his sides to not stumble back, the kiss slowly shifting from gentle to feverish, his tongue sliding over mine before his teeth sank softly into my bottom lip, and I dug my fingers into his jacket and pressed closer, my heart tumbling -

"Aw, look at them."

I jumped and quickly pulled back, and Azriel breathed a sigh and rolled his eyes.

Cassian was leaning against the doorway, grinning widely, his pyjama pants stuffed into his boots, a hat pulled haphazardly over his head and his puffer jacket making him look twice as broad as usual. Rhys was standing next to him, his hair a tousled mess, likely because he had misplaced his beanie again, tired eyes twinkling a little when he sent me a feline smirk.

Azriel scowled and turned to face them, and I buried my hands in my pockets and crunched my nose sheepishly.

"Did we wake you?"

"No, love, we just randomly both decided to wake up at three a.m. because it felt like a good decision." Rhys stepped down onto the sidewalk and squinted into the sky, lips twitching, and I huffed.

"Ignore him, he's just grumpy because you interrupted his beauty sleep." Cassian jumped down the step and stuck out his tongue, catching a few snowflakes and sending me a wink.

"Well, you could have stayed in bed." I raised my brows innocently. Azriel shifted beside me, his arm brushing against my back as he slowly reached towards the hood of the car behind me.

"And miss this?" Rhys grinned widely and stared at the street covered in a thick blanket of snow. "Are you joking?"

Azriel's elbow brushed against my back, and I discreetly shifted my weight, blocking the view of his hand behind me.

"Though if I am going to be inevitably sleep deprived tomorrow, I will be blaming the two of y-"

A snowball hit the side of his head, exploding into a cloud of twinkling crystals, and Rhys blinked while Cassian snorted and started laughing, head tipping back and shoulders shaking.

Rhys slowly turned his head, his violet eyes narrowing, and Azriel returned his stare. Then one corner of his lips ticked up lightly.

Rhys' nose twitched.

"I was going to be civil about this but,", lazily reaching out and scooping snow off the seat of a bike chained to a lamp post, he raised his brows, "if this is the way you want to play -"

A snowball hit my shoulder, dousing me in white powdery snow, and opening my mouth in disbelief, I slowly raised my head.

Cassian smirked and winked at me. "Sweet cheeks."

"You're dead." I reached out to grab a handful snow off the car's roof. "Completely, and absolutely -"

A snowball hit Azriel's chest, Rhys snorted a laugh and tipped his head back, and I tossed the ball in my hand, nearly knocking Cassian's beanie off his head.

Cassian blinked, and slowly, his face split into a broad grin. Then he raised his brows at me. "Run."

I snorted a giggle and bolted.

Giggles and deep laughter started filling the street, muffled by the sound of the snow sailing from the dark sky and thickening the white blanket, drowning the noise. I darted behind a car, kicking up clouds of white glittering snow behind me, and just for a second caught a glimpse at Azriel, grinning widely, his cheeks creasing and eyes crinkling as he dodged a snowball Rhys threw his way, a deep laugh breaking from his throat that caused something in my chest to tip over.

Then arms grabbed me, and I jumped and squeaked; deep laughter vibrated in my back, and I was lifted off the ground, my feet kicking uselessly. A big heap of snow was dumped over my head, and I slumped, glowering at the cold tricking over my neck.

Damn it.

It was almost four a.m. when we trudged back into the flat, soaked and tired, cheeks pink and icy, bodies hot and limbs freezing.

Half an hour later, I was curled up back next to Azriel, my hair dried haphazardly, in fresh pyjamas and shivering tiredly as Az dragged me into his chest, his warm body curling around me and fingers twining with mine as he buried his nose at my shoulder and breathed out slowly. I could feel the remnants of a smile lingering on his face, in the curve of his lips and the barely there dimple in his cheek, and my heart hopped tiredly against my ribs as I stared towards the window, my eyes becoming heavier and heavier as something warm slowly pulsed under my ribs.

Through a crack in the curtains, I watched the snow slowly sailing through the air.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybishh @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123 @ailyr92

[nerdygamergeekgirl]

Right!? Like come on! He looked so good in that furline coat!

Biggest tragedy in the tolkienverse is that when the dwarves were captured by the elves in Mirkwood, Thorin lost his sickass fur lined coat

Like don’t get me wrong the replacement ain’t half bad, but like that coat is everything I want in my life

[death---dealer]

idk feeling *zesty* have a snippet of something i've been working on.

There was very little color to satisfy your irises but as the Ape King gazed at you, fleetingly to check in silence the status of your twine, there was a flash. It was as if the rain pattering itself down the slant of the huts, down to kiss the Earth of the dense Muir Woods, lit up and caught hold of your lungs, drawing you in and drowning from the inside out. Even now, having been with the Apes for three months, the Humanity that had been taken from your own kind seemed to linger within them.

Within Caesar above all else. The way that he held himself with radiating pride, the way his furlined shoulders flocked upwards with each draw of air into his lungs, the way he talked to you; not like the others with flighty signs but with words you were able to comprehend. And so desperate to see something that wasn't there, you wanted to fess up that the way he looked at you with gold encrusted stares felt the most Human. Like he understood you in ways that the others didn't as if he had known you for years prior. As if he knew what it meant... To lose a part of yourself.

It left you breathless, mouth parting in desperation to ask Caesar something to keep his attention towards you but with a roll of his shoulders, fur tickling the air, he faced back towards his own work and continued in bated silence. This was how things had been the entire day. Seeped into a dance of quite suffocating unease which held on tightly to the hand of discomfort. Juxtaposed, it felt strange, your brows tightening in on themselves to give the faux illusion to Caesar that you were intensely focused on working small braids of twine into thickened wickets of rope used for fishing. It felt like choking, wrapping around your esophagus, to even admit inside of your mind that with the Chimpanzee next to you there was an unspoken sense of acute interest and subdued attraction at each other's actions.

[adkartsboutique]

www.adkartsboutique.com Excited to share the latest addition to my #etsy shop: This is a gorgeous handmade blanket featuring a giraffe on a cloud. It is perfect for a TV blanket. It is very warm and a great blanket for Autumn, Winter, or Spring. It is made from Tunisian crochet and the design features a giraffe on the front sitting on a cloud and it is lined with a soft faux fur on the back that is an awesome light blue. The cloud is a very tight and short brushed fringe. The giraffe is finished with embroidered eyelashes and a tassel tail. A perfect gift idea. #blanket #crochetblanket #afghan #furlined #crochetart #crochetartist #lapblanket #handmade #crochet #giftidea #giraffe #lapblanket https://www.instagram.com/p/CoVlh19u283/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[paimaniagalaxia]

Wade: Who's gonna find us out here? We're MILES away from Saber-Kitty! Logan: Last time I'd checked, there might be 'nother mutant here. Wade: What are the chances we get caught by some little 'feurlin'? Paige: *thinking* It's 'FURLINE', dummkopf.

[dog-ending]

More details:

They'd probably end up being between 6-8ish inches tall shelf sitters similar to these*

that i made for friends last year, except better and not on a 3 day time crunch

details like horns, wings, spots/stripes, manes would be fine, along with minor changes like ear size/shape. clothes negotiable but would cost more.

*made with someone else's animal crossing pattern that i ended up HATING as far as actually sewing went, so they wouldnt be exactly like that

who'd be interested in getting a cheap (im thinking $25 plus shipping) plushie commision from me in the future?

i wanna start pattern testing my own designs once i get my sewing space unpacked but it gets boring doing the same blank plushie form over and over, so doing someone else's pets or fursonas or furry/creature ocs would be a fun way to mix it up

theyd be made of felt and pretty small to keep costs down so pretty much display-only pieces, and i couldnt guarantee exact color matching without having to charge extra for dye

[hedgiwithapen]

AtLA prompt for DHD or any time at all: what if Aang had died with all the other airbenders and Katara was the next avatar?

Sokka was only four, but he wasn't stupid, he knew where babies came from. More or less. He knew where they didn't come from, at any rate. A woman went into her igloo, Gran-gran or one of the other women who'd already done this went to help, the lady screamed a lot, and then there was a baby. Babies took a lot of screaming--they needed it so they could scream back. Sound in the South Pole carried, echoing off the water and the ice-cliffs. But the day his mother had come back to the village with a baby, the ice had been quiet.  

"Sokka," she said to him, as his father had helped her from her kayak. "Meet your new baby sister. The spirits gave her to us." Sokka stared at the baby, wrapped up in a blanket lined with furs he couldn't recognize. She was bigger than new-new babies, too, with dark hair in two little braids peaking out of the furlined hood.

"Couldn't the spirits have given me a Petral-Puppy?" he asked, taking the baby anyways. She looked at him with bright blue eyes and gurgled happily.  His mother laughed. His father didn't. 

They left the other member of the fishing expedition to take the nets, only half filled, to the smoking racks, Sokka taking three strides on the packed snow for every one of his father's, glad that his mother had taken the baby back. She'd been heavy. Their house, half ice and half heavy oiled pelts, wasn't the largest in the village, even if Hakoda was the chief, but it was centrally located. As Sokka sat, flopping onto his pallet without grace, his father pulled the doorflap closed, cutting off the light from outside. 

"Kya," he said, his voice pitched low. "What have you done?"

"The spirits lead us to her," she responded. "Both Shamik and I felt drawn, and there she was, in a hollow in the ice. Just left there. What would you have had us do, leave her to freeze?"

"No," Hakoda said, but there was a tightness in his voice that made Sokka pull his feet up close under him. The baby wriggled again, still wrapped up to tight. "But... here? Look at that blanket."

"I saw it," Kya said, firmly. "Western village's pattern, and they were the only ones still trading north for Harp Hare fur. You and I both know who she is."

"Who?" Sokka asked, satisfied when both his parents jumped a little at the reminder he was there. "Who is she?"

"Sokka, why don't you see if your baby boots will fit her?" Kya asked, setting the baby down on his bed. Sokka did some very fast counting. They were going to need another bed. He didn't mind sharing the boots, they were too small now anyways, and would go to the next baby who needed them, but his bed was a different story. 

"Ok," he said anyway, touching the blanket. He'd never seen a harp hare. Gran Gran said they had long ears and round white bodies that pointed into a tail like a Tiger seals'. The fur that lined the blanket was softer than anything he'd ever felt. It came untied easily, unrolling, white and blue.

"Kya," Hakoda said again. "If the Fire Nation learns--."

"They won't," Kya said. "They'll be looking for an adult by this point, not a child. And if their --whoever tells them these things--said the Avatar was born in the Western village... they'll assume she died with the others. It's been so long. The raids are so few these days, they must be focusing on the Earth Kingdom."

"The raids are few because we are few, Kya." Hakoda said softly. "But if the spirits brought her to us, who am I to question?"

Sokka tried squishing one of his boots onto the baby's fat little foot, trying not to hurt her. She kicked him in the nose.

"Ow!"

"Oh no," Kya said, hurrying over. Sokka glared a little. 

"I think I'd rather have a Petral-puppy. Can the spirits take her back?"

"No," Kya said gently. "Sokka, this is very important. You mustn't tell anyone what you heard your father and I talking about. Do you understand?"

"Uh-huh," Sokka said. It was very easy to agree when he hadn't actually been listening. "Ok. I won't tell anyone about Kata."

"Kata?" Kya asked, raising an eyebrow.  Sokka pointed to the writing on the blanket. 

"I can't read all of it," he said, suddenly defensive. Gran Gran said he should learn, but it was hard. 

Kya looked at the blanket and the tiny marks. "Katara. Her name is Katara. She can keep that, at least, can't she?"

Hakoda nodded. "I'll tell the village we have been blessed with a daughter." he said, the traditional words coming easily. "She's not a secret, Sokka. Just... the other thing."

Sokka didn't ask what his father meant by the other thing. He didn't need to. 

~ Sokka was eight winters when the secret freed itself, not like a fish from a net but a whale breaking the surface and crashing down.

The snow drifting down on the village turned gray first, then darker, stinking of--well, Sokka wasn’t sure exactly what. It smelled like the rare driftwood fires lit on the equinoxes, but worse. Those left the same smudges in the snow, soot and ash that never melted away all together.

The village moved, a drill no one had practiced in years tugging feet that only dimly remembered. Sokka saw his father swiping paint under his eyes, gripping  his bone tipped spear in the other hand. It was not a weapon for practices, Sokka knew from the times he’d begged his father to teach him to use it. It was a man’s weapon--a killing weapon.

Sokka pulled his child’s club from where he always wore it on his belt. “Dad?”

“Sokka, go find your sister,” Hakoda said, sharp as cut ice.  “Now. Then hide.”

Sokka saw Bato, the other men of the village arranging themselves along the lip of wall where the ice met water. He saw a gap, right where he would fit.  “But I can help.”

“You can help by staying safe,” his father said.

There wasn’t time to argue.  A red flag hung from the tower on the warship that filled the bay, and the nose of it crashed down, a gangplank and a weapon in one. Sokka ran, his worn boots gripping the ice in ways an outsider’s wouldn’t.

Katara was with Gran Gran and a few of the other elders, a young mother and her fussing newborn.  “Sokka!” she yelped, leaping from the snowbank to grab for his parka sleeve. “ What is it?”

“Fire Nation,” he said, noticing just how visible her dark hair, like his own, stood out against the white ice. “Dad said to hide.”

“Where’s mom?” Katara asked. “I want Mom, and my blanket.”

“I’ll go,” Sokka said. He’d learned early that agreeing with Katara was the only way to handle when she got Stubborn, and they couldn’t afford Stubborn right now. The place everyone was sheltered was near the back of the villager proper, close enough to the kayaks and the inland river, but too far from the homes to reach them quickly, and defenses had already dropped the snow drifts on the ice cliff above and west. It would be safer to go back, but he was so close, and Mom-- she needed to be with everyone else.

He realized too late that Katara was behind him, marking his footprints with her own, and that the fight had moved closer to the heart of the village. Three tents were on fire and  the snow around them had melted into slush. He could hear screaming.

“Mom!” he said, louder than he meant to, yanking aside the flap of heavy oilskin that was their door.

A man stood inside, his metal helmet scraping the poles of the roof.  He didn’t turn, still looking at Kya. “Well?” he asked. “Tell me where the Avatar is, and my warriors will leave the rest of your village in peace, not pieces.”

Sokka stared. No one said the word Avatar in the village. Not since the night they’d brought Katara home. It was meant to be secret.

Kya shook her head. “Not here. Your people destroyed the Avatar’s village decades ago.  He’ll be in the Earth Kingdom.”

“No,” the man said. “He isn’t. I will not warn you again.”

“Mommy?” Katara asked from behind Sokka’s shoulder. The man turned.

“You would doom your children over misplaced faith?” he asked Kya. Sokka watched his mother as her eyes turned hard.

“Not misplaced,” she said, and swung the cookpot, filled with boiling blubber. “Children, run.” The smell of burned meat filled the tent.

Sokka grabbed Katara’s hand, his mitten clumsy around hers and scrambled backwards.

They slipped through the ice, pink with blood, trying to obey. Sokka looked over his shoulder, and tried to stop his cry. Katara didn’t manage to.

“No!” she howled, seeing the murky blood on the man’s drawn sword. Around them, the sound of the waves and the wind went dead, and the sudden quiet made the sounds of fighting echo strangely before pausing as everyone turned to look.

Sokka held an empty mitten.

Katara’s eyes glowed an eerie blue, like an iceberg in full sun.

The village exploded; every chunk of ice, every stone, every bit of flame dancing on cloth or oil, all directed in a deadly wave that flattened almost everything in its wake.  A chip of ice tore past Sokka’s eye, leaving a stinging cut that dripped down his cheek.

His mother’s killer dropped first, an icicle longer than an oar erasing his heart, and every soldier in Fire nation colors fell. The great metal boat submerged halfway, and what remained resembled a twisted hulk, more a melted ice sculpture than an iron warship.

Sokka could have looked at the devastation. Could have looked at the places where the snow was melted with the heat of spilled blood, could have seen the horror and awe at war on his people’s faces.

Instead he took a step, and held his sister as she wept. 

[the-splintered-clan]

The man, the leaper, the leader Frogstar is one leggy boi. Still trying to learn how to draw cats, not horses

forgot to mention the ref aaaa Bengal Kitten Leap 4 by FurLined on Deviantart

[thatbanditqueen]

@from-memphis-with-love sugar glider!!!! This made me chuckle out loud.

[four-birds-in-a-trenchcoat]

Here are the 4K renders of the characters from the FL3DS Elderwood chapter

PINO

LEILAH

DAUNTA

THE FURLIN