#turquoise pipe

[noonlight-stims]

source

[toastedstims]

A Galarian ponyta stimboard for @misty-lilies !!

🍬🍭🍬|🍭🍭|🍬🍭🍬

[notamamiboye]

I'm making a line of pride stickers and I need the opinions of two-spirit folks. For the sake of transparency, I was raised Ojibwe and have taken part of several pow wows and ghost suppers that my family organized but do not identify as two-spirit.

[terabyte-teddybear]

aro sapphic tiabeanie stimboard!

X X X X X X X X X

[foxyou-too]

Andrew Iannazzi

[allisonreader]

I had a very interesting dream last night. My youngest brother and I were in Australia helping an octopus get back to the ocean. It was fairly rocky coastline where we were, but if you went one direction it opened up onto a more traditional beach that was busy. We also ended up meeting up with @rowenabean though I know that you're not from Australia but New Zealand. Anyways I just thought that was interesting.

[writers-potion]

Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what 

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc. 

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 

Don’t try to describe everything. 

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

[lowkeyremi]

𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 !

pairing: iwaizumi x fem!reader note: it’s his birthday!!!!! my silly little gym rat <3 happy late birthday iwa!!! summary: your husband doesn’t want too much for his 30th birthday, but you won’t stand for that! content: fluff, birthday, marriage, mentions of other characters like oikawa, kissing, gosh this is so gooey in the best way possible, drinking.

“Baby, seriously, you don’t need to do all of this.” Your husband sighs at the same time that you poke your tongue out in concentration.

Currently, a piping bag of not too sweet icing is in your hands and you’re icing a one layered cake.

“Haji you only turn 30 once, this is big!” Hajime scratches at his neck, a little groan leaving his lips afterward.

“It’s just a reminder that I’m getting older.” Yes, that’s true, he is getting older. He’s no longer in his twenties. He would argue that he’s not in his prime anymore but you think otherwise.

There have been highs and lows to his twenties but his thirties are going to bring something new to the table. What exactly? You’re not sure, but it will present itself with time.

“Hurry up and go change into the clothes I put out for your special day. Your friends and past kohais will be arriving in like 30 minutes.”

A little what leaves his lips, “You invited those losers?”

“Those losers all love you very much, so of course I invited them.” He snorts, “Never thought I’d spend my thirtieth birthday with my old volleyball team.”

“Yeah, well, you told me that they were like a family to you soooo.” He can’t argue with you there, sometimes his volleyball team felt more like a family to him than his own family did. They all had the same goals as he did and they just understood him.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll go change.” Good, he can’t be seen in his white tank top and pajama bottoms. Even if that tank top is a little small on him and defines his aged muscles well.

Hopefully the slacks you picked out will define his ass some, and the navy button up will fit snuggly on his torso. You almost lose focus just thinking about it. Your determination to finish this cake is what brings you out of dreamland.

You set down the main icing and pick up one with a smaller tip to add little details and write “Happy 30th Birthday Hajime!” In the signature Aoba Johsai turquoise.

When the cake is finished you worked on making sure all the decorations were up to par. Since this is only a small party, the decorations are kept to a minimum. Minimal but fitting of course.

When your husband was away training professional athletes, he would send you silly snaps of him with different filters. Of course you saved all of them for this occasion. There were at least twenty different printed out faces of your husband with silly filters that you had saved from your chats.

You wasted no time hanging them up, giggles following suit as you looked at the silly pictures.

The last one doesn’t get hung up because Hajime surprises you and snatches the picture from your hands.

You got a little whiff of the cologne he was wearing, a smile graces your face when french vanilla and spicy cinnamon tickles your nose. Upon turning around you see him wearing the outfit you picked out and you gotta admit that he looks even better than you imagined he would.

“What’s all of this?” The pictures are what he’s implying but you can’t focus on anything besides the way his muscles bulge when he waves his arm around to signify all the pictures you had hung up.

“Oh nothing. Just something to entertain your friends with!” Your giggles only multiple when you hear a loud groan leave his lips.

“These look awful I’m taking them down.” He doesn’t even get the chance to because the doorbell rings at the perfect moment.

“I don’t think so,” you sing-song, “you need to go welcome in your guests.”

Said guests give a loud knock and four more doorbell rings. Hajime rolls his eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t get stuck in the back of his head, “Must be that annoying Shittykawa.”

That nickname spilling from his lips proves just how much he needs this party. His friends bring out a side of him that doesnt have to pretend or worry about being judged, because they get him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY IWA-CHAN!” Fills your ears when your husband opens the door. Hanamaki and Matsukawa join in mocking Oikawa’s voice, “Happy birthday Iwa-chan~” the two mock in unison.

“Shut up!” Oikawa quips before scoffing, “always being mean to me, I can never catch a break!” Of course he brings his dramatics into your kitchen.

His brows unfurrow when he takes sight of you and he gasps very dramatically, “[name]-chan! LOOKING AS BEAUTIFUL AS EVER!!” Oikawa basically flops onto you and wraps his arms around you in a hug.

But you have to remember this a 6’1 athlete, not someone of your stature so you almost fall over when he flops on you.

“Oi, idiot stop flirting with my wife!” Hajime screams from the front door.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa make their way into the kitchen. “Toru’s back to wife stealing again?” Matsukawa asks with a smug look. Oikawa has a huge reputation and he usually maintains it well, a scandal like this sounds quite interesting!

“Oh? He stole someone’s wife?” You ask setting out silverware and handing out party hats, which Yahaba says is corny, but what do you care?

“You guys are twisting the story! She didn’t tell me that she had a husband!” Hanamaki, ever the instigator, tells Oikawa that it’s still bad he was seeing a married woman.

More of his team starts to file in: Kunimi, Kyotani, Kindachi, and Watari.

These grown men (Oikawa, Maki, and Mattsun) are actually having a petty argument. You know the two are purposefully riling up Toru, maybe they wanted a reaction from Hajime, who knows, but you’re going to be the one to put it to rest.

“Hey! No fighting on Haji’s birthday. Also Oikawa are you really gonna let them rile you up like that, you’re a grown man for heavens sake.” Hajime makes his way from the entrance of your house to steal a kiss from your lips.

“Yeah listen to my wife.” Kunimi makes a gagging noise and you just giggle.

“Welcome everyone! I’m glad you all could make it to Hajime’s 30th birthday and yes, it means a lot for all of you to be here. He may not say or express it enough but he really does love you guys.” All eyes shift from you to Hajime and he blushes slightly at your confession.

“Babe-” He mumbles before he’s interrupted by his best friend.

“We’d be dumb not to be able to tell that Iwa-chan loves us!” Hajime glared at the brunette and takes that as a warning to shut up.

After dinner is served and cake is eaten, you all shift to the living room were you enjoy drinks and just talk about old times, or catch each other up on new things in life.

Hajime will never admit it but he’s a lightweight. After three drinks his face is already flushed and his words are slightly slurred.

“Hey! Listen up losers I have an announcement.” He says raising his glass (of water, you switched it out when he wasn’t looking. All eyes are on him and you can see Oikawa recording this moment, most likely to use to taunt your husband later.

“I- I fuckin’ love you guys so much. You guys are the best buncha’ idiots I’ve ever met. And- and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not only were you guys there for me as a team you guys were at my wedding and I hope you’ll be there for me again in the future.” He yells out cheers and everyone raises their glasses to clink it with his.

“We love you too, Iwaizumi!” The group yells in unison. Well maybe not Kunimi— he kinda mumbles it.

The rest of the night contains laughter and pure joy from this amazing celebration.

“How do you feel, honey?” You ask him as he rests his head on your shoulder, no doubt ready for bed, since he usually doesn’t stay up later than 10:30 and it’s 1 am.

“Like the luckiest fuckin’ guy on earth.” That brings a smile to your face.

“That beats no party, huh? Mr. I didn’t want a party.”

“Didn’t realize how much I missed these idiots.” He sighs in contentment.

[wolken-himmel]

In which (Y/n) ends up in the infirmary because a child wandering around campus bit her.

It turns out that the feral boy is Floyd's and her child from the future.

Request by anon.

"(Y/n), we came as quickly as we could!"

A jolt ran through your body when the door to the infirmary was pushed open with an incredible force. Before you could even begin to recover from the awful noise the hinges produced, you found three figures surrounding your bed.

"What happened to you?" Deuce asked and pointed to your finger in worry. "Someone said you got bitten?"

Ace poked the band-aid that covered the tip of your pointer finger. "Bitten by a feral animal? By Grim?" he asked and began laughing, especially when the cat in question grumbled a few curses of protests.

Much to your amusement, Deuce shot the cat a stern look and wagged his finger in front of his disgruntled eyes. "Grim, what did we tell you?" the blue-haired boy scolded, narrowing his eyes. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you..."

"It wasn't me, I swear!" Grim threw his hands into the air while Ace and you merely laughed your souls out. Your amusement seemed to confuse Deuce, so much that the cat had to explain, "I don't bite people. I have class, you know..."

"Yeah, I was bitten—" you began slowly.

"But you're not bleeding out, are you?" Ace interrupted you and took precautionary step backwards. "And please tell me you didn't get rabies..."

By then, your left eye had begun twitching in frustration — oh, and your ears had begun hurting with all the excessive noise. Before the three could begin arguing amongst each other again, you had already raised your hands to shut them up. "Let me finish my sentences, you idiots!" They quieted down at once, all due to the angry glare you shot them. "No, I got bitten by a child... It was a boy, turquoise blue hair and very very sharp teeth. He couldn't have been older than seven..."

"How... did a child get on campus?" Ace asked with scrunched up eyebrows.

"I don't know..." you grumbled and sank into the soft infirmary bed again — it was much softer than the one back at Ramshackle. After a deep exhale, you closed your eyes and waved the three off. "Just ask Crowley or something."

"And where is the boy now?" Deuce piped up, his eyes flashing with concern. "What if he bites other people? He could seriously hurt someone—"

The red-head rolled his eyes. "It's just a child, you idiot..."

"No, trust me, Ace," you interjected seriously. A series of shivers ran down your back, and something akin to trauma darkened your eyes. "That boy is a menace to society."

"So what do we do now?" Grim asked, panicked.

His blue eyes flashing with utter determination, a bulb seemed to light up above Deuce's head. "We could put up some traps," he suggested while pacing up and down the empty infirmary. "You know, attach some thread to a branch and then prop up a cage. And then use candy as bait."

You clicked your tongue. "That's how you catch a stray cat, not a child..."

°

°

°

"Ugh, why do our professors always give us so much homework? I barely even have time to fulfil my daily squeeze quota anymore! Jade, my whole life is falling apart! What is the purpose of living if I can't have fun?"

"Oh Floyd... please tell me you're finished with the alchemy assignment for tomorrow."

The twins were walking side by side, traversing another courtyard to get to the Mirror Chamber for their shifts at the lounge. Yet, dread already pooled in the depths of Jade's stomach when he looked upon the moody frown on his brother's face. Floyd's mood swings and work didn't mix well at all — it was like throwing oil and water together.

"Nope," Floyd chimed innocently, "haven't even started yet with that stupid assignment."

"The deadline is tomorrow..." Jade furrowed his eyebrows in worry.

His concerned tone merely drew an annoyed scoff from Floyd's pursed lips. "I wasn't in the mood." A whine escaped his lips when he raised his long arms to stretch lazily. His lips twisted downwards into a pout when he suddenly complained, "I haven't seen (Y/n) all day! My little shrimpy would usually bribe me with hugs and what not to do my homework..."

Jade shook his head in disbelief. "By the Great Seven, Floyd..."

Before he could properly begin scolding his brother, a high-pitched voice reached their ears — someone was calling out to them, and the voice was drawing closer. "Daddy!" they managed to discern once the voice was close enough. And almost simultaneously, a young child threw himself into Floyd's arms while continously muttering 'Daddy' over and over again.

Reluctantly moving his arms around the boy to support him, Floyd furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and a tad bit of annoyance. "Huh? What do you want, little guppy?" The sharpness of his eyes softened up though as soon as he found the child's cheeks covered in dried tears. The boy continued wailing and clinging to the Octavinelle student. "Oh my, why are you crying?"

"I-I hurt Mommy earlier!" the boy confessed guiltily. "I bit her! I didn't mean to... I was just so excited to see her again! And I was so happy that I chomped down a little bit too much... It was meant as a love nibble..."

"And where is your mommy?" Jade asked hesitantly.

The boy's mood seemed to increase once he laid eyes upon the other twin. "Uncle Jade! You're here, too!" he exclaimed with a toothy smile.

Floyd and Jade shot each other surprised looks, astonished by the young boy's ease at telling them apart. Yet, with the way he addressed them, they both began to worry.

"I don't remember having a son, Jade..."

"Neither do I."

Before they could ask the child for answers, three figures came running towards them — two Heartslabyul students and a familiar cat monster. All of them were out of breath when they came to a halt in front of the twins.

"Floyd! Step away from that child at once!" Deuce exclaimed and extended his flat hand warningly. "He's dangerous..."

"This little guppy? No, he ain't dangerous at all." A bout of laughter escaped Floyd's lips when he began tickling the boy affectionately. "What's your name, guppy?" he cooed and cradled him gently.

"Nemo!" the boy chimed.

"See?" Floyd drawled. "So cute."

Grim shook his head hastily. "That boy bit (Y/n)!"

The remark caused Jade to tense at once. His limbs suddenly frozen, he only managed to slowly crane his neck at his brother, who was still busy playing with the mysterious boy. Now, on closer look, Jade managed to see the resemblance between the wild boy and the Ramshackle prefect. His disbelief still didn't lessen, somehow, when he carefully asked, "Wait... so (Y/n) is your mother, Nemo?"

The boy immediately piped up happily when that name reached his ears. "Mommy! Where is she?" His toothy smile showed off his razer-sharp teeth. "Is she alright?"

"Great," Ace grumbled under his breath, "so we bought the cage and candy for nothing..."

The revelation had Floyd perking up in utter delight. His bad mood from earlier had disappeared entirely, based on the way he was grinning widely. "Woah, so Shrimpy and I are gonna have little shrimpies together in the future?" Giggles escaped his lips while he threw the child into the air. "I love it! You're making my day, little guppy~"

"If that's the future, you should work hard for it..." Jade muttered mischievously. "Maybe this is a sign by the Great Seven to work on your assignment for tomorrow."

"Nemo, what do you know of alchemy?" Floyd asked, his laughter mixing with his son's giggles. "I'm sure you'll help your daddy work on his assignment, no?"

The question made Jade's smile waver. "Oh, he's hopeless..."

[dira333]

Choose yourself too - Itoshi Rin x Reader

Note: Soulmarks only appear after you pick/choose each other

requested by @shoulmate

"Do you have a soulmark?"

"I will not answer that."

Someone in the back of the room, someone groans.

His PR Manager rolls his eyes so hard they might get stuck that way but Rin hasn't made it this far in his career by being a people pleaser.

"With all due respect," the impertinent interviewer starts again, "Your relationship status has been vague at best for the last years. Your fans are longing for information and we feel that they deserve-"

"They deserve it?" Rin's looking at her now, hopes his eyes portray every single drop of hatred he feels for this woman. "Do you have a soulmark?"

"That's- That's private!" She rushes to defend herself.

"Ah, so you do understand that term? I will not answer that question and that's that. I'm here to play soccer not to answer questions about whether or not I'm still available. Which I'm not."

"I'm still single," Bachira pipes in from his left, directing all attention back to him. The tension in the room dissipates within moments of him chattering away.

-x-

"Long day?" You ask when he steps inside your shared apartment.

"You have no idea," Rin answers, letting his temple sink against your shoulder for a moment. He can feel himself recharge from touch alone.

"Watched your interview," you mumble, your breath moving the hairs in the nape of his neck. He shivers and your hand finds the spot, circling warm and safe over his exposed skin. You always know what he needs. He wishes he could say the same about himself.

From down the hallway, a gurgling sound alerts his attention.

"Go," you tell him, stepping aside to let him through, "Dinner's ready in ten."

-

"Hey little monster," he greets as he pushes the door fully open. His daughter's lying on her back, turquoise eyes locked on the mobile above her head, the little soccer balls dancing in the air. She waves her hands when he lifts her out of her bed and drools on his shirt with a confidence Isagi could only wish for.

"How are we feeling today?" Rin asks the little monster, chuckling when she almost hits him in the nose, "That great? Amazing. Mom's made dinner, you're hungry?"

She farts and he's quietly laughing now at her antics.

"What did I do to deserve you?" He asks her quietly when she's managed to grasp his thumb, sucking on it as if she's hoping for milk.

I tickles a little where he can feel her first teeth coming out. It tingles when she gnaws on the tiny soulmark. He has only one. Yet.

-x-

His head is resting heavy in your lap, his daughter sleeping soundly on his chest.

It could be a perfect evening if not for his restless mind.

Rin lifts his left hand, looks at the tiny mark on his thumb. It's a monster, the same oddly shaped lump he would draw as a child. He knows it resembles his daughter because he knows he chose her. Ever since the day he knew she existed.

"Do you want me to check again?" You ask. Your voice is soft and he can hear your book close, can feel your hand find its way into his hair. "Maybe I missed it last time..."

"I'm sure you didn't." He says even though it hurts him. Because he chose you, years ago and every day since, has even the ring to prove it, yet there's no sign of the mark he longs for the most.

But you have one, oddly placed on your chest, just a little left of your heart, the color of his eyes.

"Rin," you whisper, leaning down to press a kiss against his temple, "I know you love me. I don't need a spot on your skin to prove it to me. Although I think it would only be fair if it appeared on your ass or something similarly pathetic."

He can feel his lips quirk up into a smile. That's the effect only you can have on him. And your daughter, but that's just genetics at play.

"Maybe," you hum, "You need to choose yourself too. Accept yourself for who you are."

-x-

It takes him one more year, a heavy loss and therapy, but Rin makes it.

He can look into the mirror now without hesitation, can look at his flaws and his strengths and say, as honest as he's ever been: "This is me. I like me the way I am. But I'm still improving. Just watch me."

"Boop," his daughter makes in the bathtub, pressing her finger against his abdomen. She laughs, mouth wide open. "Boop," she makes again.

He picks her up and cradles her against his chest, filled with warmth and happiness, especially when you fall into their laughter.

"Hey," you suddenly say, "Did you notice that?"

"Huh?" He asks, lowering the little monster back into the warm water. "What do you mean?"

"You've got a spot there." You point to where he'd just been booped.

There, in the color of your eyes, is a soulmark.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1963 home in Richmond, CA has been removed from the market, probably because it hasn't been selling. It's so unusual but, when I saw the kitchen, I couldn't believe it. I posted it a while ago, b/c it's so crazy. So, after all this time, I finally found the house that goes with it. The home has 4bds, 3.5ba, & they were asking $4.098M.

Open the front doors and you see "stuff." The owner said that he is willing to part with some of his prized antiques for the right price.

Look at everything. The house is lovely, too, but you can't really see it for the owner's things.

Surprisingly, the living room looks normal and you can see the lovely rock fireplace.

For a mid-century home, it has a distinct Oriental flair. It doesn't look like the average MCM style.

The ceilings are wood and the walls are made of lots of stone and glass. The doors look Oriental in design.

But, on the other side of the fireplace, it's another story- the owner's collection is everywhere. Look at the 3 pipes above the fireplace.

His collection covers every surface, including the floors.

In the spacious dining room, there are simple shelves filled with statues. They also line the floor and grace the table. It looks like the ceilings may be bamboo.

Here's another large sitting room.

Statues and vases fill the floor on both sides of the hall. It makes me feel like I'm walking a runway or in a parade, the sidewalks lined with spectators.

And, this believe it or not, is the kitchen. Nobody cooks in here. There's no room. Every surface is full.

Part of it looks like a collection of stones. I love the shiny turquoise cabinets and black counters.

It almost looks like there are fish tanks in the cabinets, with the way they're decorated.

Look at the island. No prep work is done there.

Off to the side, there's a table for casual dining, but no one is doing any dining, lately.

This bathroom is very large and like a spa. There's seating, and a tub surrounded by glass windows, although things must be moved to step into it.

The house comes with 59.15 acres of land. Here's a large deck on the house.

And, there's a water feature that also goes under it.

The gardens are lovely.

It looks like either patios or decks surround the whole house.

And, there's a beautiful pool with a patio.

I don't know if these are garages or carports. They look like carports.

These are definitely garages and there's lots of parking space that needs to be repaved.

Are those bee hives?

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/1-Los-Arboles_El-Sobrante_CA_94803_M93597-61754

[rou-luxe]

ikevil - tips on how to draw harrison gray

<- previous: william + series introduction

section 1 - observation

finding important traits

little ahoge ♥

droopy, sleepy looking eyes

mustache and sherlock pipe optional

is it just me, or does he has a triple eyelid

thin nose as well, but not as thin as william's

rounder features

eyebrows are (

his smile is :]

section 2 - study

imitating the original sprite

i'm very, very sorry. i have massacred your boy. i'll make it up to you in section 3 🤧

the fluff was hell. I was mostly fucking around

breaking it down.

hair

not nearly as horrific as william's, but still terrible in its own way.

these examples are from my version because of how terrible the imitation turned out

magenta: back hair. spiky and extends out. think of russell from end roll (rightmost image)

red: the hard part. I recommend having an extra layer just for this part because you don't want to ruin everything, right? 😭😭 four spikes.

yellow: it's... kind of like red, but smaller. how do I explain this

green: cute ahoge <3

blue: it's kind of just there

purple: I assume this is hair tucked behind the ear. it's difficult to tell on the original sprite, but it's there.

2. eyes

his eyes are... kind of an omelette shape. a squished omelette.

both corners extend downwards.

sleeeeeepy look. dreamy eyes.

there's a lot of curved lines here. his eyes are soft.

pupils are ovals

sorry he looks so dead here

don't forget the beauty mark

there are eyelashes because I am me but you don't have to

he has quite a dark lower eyelid...

3. clothing

messy turquoise dress shirt!! remember to show his collarbone and a bit of his manboob 🤤

please don't forget the black vest.

you're on your own for the fur. can't help you there. if I have to suffer, so do you 😇

thankfully, not much jewelry with harrison. (button, brooch, earring)

section 3 - personal application

applying all these tips to my own artstyle

really happy with how this came out!! I was scared because harrison's design has colors I usually don't work with, and the values meshed together a lot while I was working...

still don't know how to draw the fur sorry

final comparison

in my rendition, he looks like a protagonist in a Nintendo 2DS/3DS game. am I wrong? it feels nostalgic.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

taglist!!

@bakersgrief @floydsteeth @tako-cafe @rubia8 @xxoomiii

@sh0jun @noxinara @g0dwat3r @sapphire-323 @lycemagee

@citrusmornings @drachonia 

please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!! or if you'd just like to be tagged for this series

[primrose-fr]

===> Tundra.

You feel your thick fur rustle with surprise. What creature doesn't recognize a Tundra when they see one? Why your kind are everywhere! That is, you know Tundras to be common. Yet the knowledge feels...out of place. This thought leads you down a path to more unsettling realizations. Why do your wings feel stiff and uncomfortable. As if you haven't used them? Your tail a now unusual weight. Curling and slapping into various body parts as you twist in the fog. Not to mention everything smells so strong. The scent of the fog strikes your mind the hardest. It is a sweet yet sorrowful aroma that sears its way into your memories.

What has happened to me? You call to the Voice. You're starting to feel a deep wrongness course under your fur. Your calls are interrupted by the fog as it begins to pick up speed. Slowly turning from a meandering cloud to choking vortex. The presence of the Voice begins to warp, evoking in your mind a feeling of distress or sorrow. Shards of what appear to be turquoise gems whip about in the storm. Occasionally pelting your dense fur. The Voice pipes up again. "How wonderous, for us to have met in this chance moment. But our time now is ending Lost One.

I hope our stars shall cross again."

You call out in panic. You can't go! You still don't know what's happened to you! But your calls only echo in your ears. The presence of the Voice is quickly fading. Along with your vison, you've only a glimpse at glowing eyes before everything goes black.

[FIRST] [NEXT]

[toaspireintodarkness]

"Welcome to the freakshow."

League of Villains x reader?

⚠️TW: Blood, vomiting, neglect/abuse, implication of murder ⚠️

I have no idea what this is-- I had this idea and it just-- yeah.

SLAM.

You could hardly breathe. Blood was all over your hands, splattered all over your clothes as if you were a painter just getting done with a masterpiece. But what you had done was far from a masterpiece. You hadn't meant to. It had just happened—

Oh, face it, you had meant to.

You couldn't take the way they treated you. You couldn't take the way you were treated as if you were an abomination to human kind. It wasn't your fault you were brought into this world. It was their fault. You didn't ask for this life. Ha, you were better without it! It was a living nightmare that never ended. A maze you were stuck in, always turning to the monsters lurking in the shadows.

But now you were the monster.

You were in some strange place, a warehouse that hadn't been used in a decade or more. Dust bunnies lined up in armies, waiting to attack and you wouldn't be surprised if there were spiders and God only knew what else was in here. There was a smell, one that conflicted your nostrils. It tickled your nose, freeing it from the metallic and morbid smell of the crimson staining your body. Cigarettes were one thing, but the faint smell of cup ramen was making your stomach churn in ways it should not. You staggered for a moment, leaning against a palete of old bulk products. You rested your forehead on your arm, your throat tightening as a burning sensation crept up your throat.

"Who the hell is there?"

The voice was low and rough. If a corpse had a voice, that's what it would be. You couldn't answer though. Not without emptying your guts everywhere. 'Oh god, what have I done,' was the only thing running through your head. You should've just ran away. You didn't really need to end their lives, did you? Did they really deserve it?

"Crazy, go check it out."

"Why am I—"

Suddenly, everything it was blurred out as the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own vomit pouring out like a waterfall. Only difference was that it was not pretty and serene. You hadn't even noticed that an ash blond girl, she couldn't be no older than seventeen, was staring rather curiously. Her piercing yellow eyes were dancing over your vulnerable form, her lips curling into a smile as she took in the sight of all the blood.

"Is that your own, or someone else's? Did you kill someone? Oh, look at your hands! You killed someone!"

You killed someone.

You killed... them.

You emptied more out of your stomach, choking back on it. "S-sto–" You gasped for a breath of air. Mucus had filled your nose. You had no choice. It was the matter of survival. The matter of your sanity—or did you even have sanity anymore?

"Toga, I asked what the fuck is..." The rough voice had trailed off before staring at you as well. To him... you looked pathetic. You had blindly found one of the most wanted villain groups while running from whatever the hell it was. He gave a sigh an stepped closer, avoiding stepping into your vomit. His hand grabbed the back of your head, jerking it back so you had to look up at him.

He had darkened turquoise eyes that were small in comparison to his eyes, lacking any light at all. His skin was split by deep purple burn scars that was hanging on by staples that so desperately needed changing. His black hair spiked in every which direction, but it didn't look as though it had gel. The right side of his nose had three piercings, and his lobes were pierced along with the top outer part of his ears.

Now, he did look like he would be a monster lurking in the dark.

"How did you find us?" It was a simple question. You should've been able to answer, but your throat was still sore from emptying your stomach. You still couldn't breath properly.

"I don't think they meant to!" A man wearing a black and grey mask piped up, peeping around the palete. He then pointed an accusing finger at you. "They're a double agent!"

"Shut up!" The burnt man narrowed his eyes at you. His eyes were scanning yours, and while he expected something to be underlying the fear and guilt, he found nothing. However, that didn't mean you were to be trusted. His grip on you slackened. "You need to breath. You'll asphyxiate at this point." You shook your head, and you tried to calm down. You would get to a certain point before what you had done flashed back before your eyes and you were back to gagging.

"I think this was their first kill," Toga gushed. "I remember my first kill. It tasted so–"

"Not helping, Crazy!" Dabi had to skitter back upon bodily fluids leaving your mouth to avoid it getting on him. He sure as hell didn't want to get covered in vomit. He bent over, though cautious of the disgusting liquid that layer the floor. "Listen to me. Whatever reason that you had to do it, you had to do it. It was you, or them–hey! Listen to me!" Dabi grabbed your shoulders, pushing you against the palet and holding you up. "Society will run over you. You did what you had to. You stood up for yourself. You defended yourself. Sometimes we gotta do things that we don't wanna do to survive. It's how our fucked up society works."

You had stopped leaking tears and the nausea had slowly faded, leaving nothing but the raw feeling over your body. You mustered the smallest nod. You still didn't speak—you didn't trust yourself to. Dabi released you, taking a step back. He even checked his shoe to see if he had stepped in one of your puddles, and thankfully, he hadn't. "So you were just running away and found us. Fucking coincidence," he breathed the last part.

"I think it's great! They could be one of us, dont'cha think, Dabi?" Toga reached forward and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to her. You tried to be mindful of not stepping in your own mess as you were pulled into a tight side hug. "Look at'em! They're so cute! Especially covered in all of that blood, it really makes you stand out," Toga gushed. "Do you wanna join the League? You'll fit in great!"

"They'll fit in great alright," Dabi remarked. "Shigaraki will have them dusted the minute he finds out that they can't kill without having a breakdown." Toga's grip tightened.

"But it was their first time! You can't tell me that your first wasn't emotional!" Dabi's stoic gaze said it all. "We can help desensitize them."

"You're annoyingly persistent." Dabi's gaze went back to you. "What do you think about heroes?" The way that 'heroes' fell off of his tongue was icy. It was sour as if he had taste of something bitter on his tongue.

What did you think of heroes?...

You looked down at first. The blood had dried and stained your hands. Over the years... heroes had a chance to help you. All of your teachers did. Your friends had the chance to help, even. The one store keeper on the end of the street who always gave you a discount out of pity. Your neighbors who heard everything that went on, because walls were paper thin.

Dabi was right. You had stood up for yourself. For once in your life, you had stood up for yourself. You had gained your long deserved freedom. You were free as a bird... and despite the crimson substance on you... you couldn't help but to feel relief. You felt happy. You even let out a bittersweet laugh, raising your eyes to meet theirs.

"They've never done anything for me... so why should I care about them? All they care about... is themselves." Dabi had the smallest smirk form, though it only lasted for a brief second as Toga did a small dance and cheered before latching onto you again.

"We're gonna get along just fine!" Dabi started to turn, taking a step away before looking back over his shoulder.

"Welcome to the freakshow."

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Every day I love more "sorry, but I think I lost your plot", I really enjoy reading updates <3

I wanted to know if Stoick will force Hiccup to have a talk about girls after all

Or hiccup overthinking about the attempt of kiss while our reader doesn't know how to continue in denial

Sorry for my bad english, I tried my best :(

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 22

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,846

Stoick ends up arguing with his son when all he wants to do is talk. Hiccup is mad.

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Dragons: Defenders of Berk, Fright of Passage, post episode, Hiccup’s POV, Reader’s POV, unedited, half-fill

<Previous - Next>

“Son.”

The sounds of the chittering of bugs and animals and leaves were lighter by the village, much lighter than when he’d been walking in the woods with you.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there standing before he had been approached.

Knowing who it was was enough to immediately sour his mood.

Hiccup didn’t have to look over to tell who spoke, as his father was the only one with a presence large enough to sense from a mile away, at least when he was aware of it, and there was no one else with as heavy or confident a step on Berk.

“Dad?” Hiccup held in a deep sigh, looking crossly out over the village, purposefully not looking towards his feet, brows dropping into a furrowed line. He had the idea his Dad was looking out over Berk in the same way. He didn’t have to look.

He remembered a time they spent staring in a much similar way, out over the docks just before his Dad had gone after the nest and he’d gone and tamed Toothless.

“Where have you been?” Stoick asked gruffly, staring down at his son. 

He wished he had gone now and gone fast.

Hiccup shot a quick glare to his right, where his father stood, eyes making contact with his large, turquoise tunic, metal kilt and furred boots.

“Busy,” he said, after a long moment’s silence.

He still had blueprints laid out across his desk in the forge. He could have gone and tried to sleep in there, clinging onto the whisps of the nice evening you had had.

Hiccup was more a do-er than an organizer. He was having a hard time trying to figure out how to organize the pipes. If they ever clogged…The lower tunnels were prone to flash flooding when it rained.

Maybe he just needed to make more space, do some excavation, give the rainwater time to pool off. 

But he’d been spending a lot of time with his Dad recently.

He was still upset with his Dad, though he wasn’t sure the large man realized it.

He remembered Fireworm island, when his Dad had played pick-up, scrutinizing you the whole time in a way that made you so obviously uncomfortable. And he looked positively incensed as he did it.

He definitely remembered before that, when he’d gone asking you questions about responsibility and after when he and Hiccup had been eating dinner over the fire and his Dad had some questions to ask and words to say about you then.

He was going to chase you away before Hiccup could get a word out about how he really felt. That wasn’t funny or fond; he hadn’t been involved enough in Hiccup’s life to care, or to judge.

He shouldn’t judge you at all, anyhow. He didn’t know you; not at all.

Hiccup liked you a lot.

He didn’t want to rough you up like the other Vikings did to each other and he didn’t want his Dad sizing you up the whole time you were around as if you were the last, tiny piece of meat on a stick.

He didn’t want his Dad to waste your time when he wasn’t even sure if you liked him.

Hiccup grimaced.

Stoick looked down at his son, face impassive, though for him, impassive meant stormy, “You missed family dinner.”

A spear or, as it felt the most like -a jolt, a sudden itch of irritation made itself known, jabbing through his gut, to his heart.

He knew that.

He didn’t want to say anything, but the, “Yeah,” came unbidden.

He shifted, not really feeling the cold as anything more than a passing breeze. 

The fur lining the neck of his vest tickled his nape, the tufts that used to stand fluffy on top of it matted and uncomfortable. They didn’t bother him enough for him to replace it, yet.

“Hiccup,” His father said sternly, in a tone that made Hiccup rile, “From now on, I expect you to-”

“Well, unless you and Gobber start making out, I don’t think we’re much of a family,” Hiccup regretted it nearly the moment he said it, but he kept his jaw stubbornly set, glaring outwards, keeping his eyes painfully focused on a vague discolored roof. Was it painted? 

It was too dark to tell, all the houses the same shade of muddy blue in the dark.

It was times like these he wished he had a mother instead of a Dad.

He’d spent many nights eating dinner on his lonesome with no problem, and so had his Dad. And they’d both been fine.

Hiccup wished his Dad would leave so he had more time to ogle off into the village. Or that he would step away far enough for him to complain about his Dad to himself in relative silence.

“You like… the girl,” Stoick spoke again, finally, “Were you following her?”

Hiccup was reminded quickly of the talke they had at dinner before and wrinkled his nose, cheek twitching and he fought down a disgruntled glower.

“I can… I can help,” Stoick spoke again, resting his hand on Hiccup’s shoulder. Hiccup was hit with another spike of irritation at the idea. He didn’t want to admit it but he was sure his Dad knew, and he knew that Hiccup knew exactly what he was referring to, “But these things have always been… difficult.”

His Dad’s hand was meaty and thick, warm not in a comfortable way, but in a palm sweat sort of way, which he could feel even through his fur vest.

He might’ve felt proud another time, to have his father do something that would usually be symbolic of his pride, but.

He didn’t like it.

“Then don’t,” Hiccup snapped again, though his tone of voice was sort of questioning, which perhaps made it sound just a bit more snarky. Hiccup threw his arms wide as he spoke and then dropped them again, “I wasn’t following her and I’m fine on my own. I don’t want your help, if it means you’ll just be glaring at her the whole time.”

He was sure that really didn’t win him -Hiccup or Stoick- any brownie points. It definitely didn’t win his Dad any with Hiccup, not that that mattered. 

He wasn’t sure exactly why his Dad was doing this; there really didn’t seem to be a point. What was there for him to vet?

His Dad sighed heavily, “You’re not… friends?”

Hiccup looked down, straining and grabbed his collar to look on the part of his shirt on the inside by his beck.

There it was.

There was a bead half hidden under his collar where the twine keeping his collar closed looped into one of the few purposeful holes in his tunic, the string emerging facing outwards, towards the world, on the other side.

The wooden one.

It pressed against his collarbone uncomfortably, pressed gently closer to his chest by the fabric, but he didn’t care.

He let go of his collar frustratedly and he tried to come up with an answer for his Dad.

“We’ve been friends. Acquaintances, ” Hiccup insisted, clenching his jaw a bit harder than he perhaps had to afterwards.

The tension between the two was palpable, and like a clogged pipe, and as it usually did, Hiccup was certain it was bound to explode soon.

He wished his Dad would get the message, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, the same way he was sure Toothless’ would when he was frustrated if he had any.

Just as Hiccup expected things to hit a mild and subtle crescendo and as he expected to meet face to face with the mildest version of his father’s temper, Stoick spoke again.

“...I’m sorry.”

Hiccup was startled, “What?”

His father wasn’t one for apologies. Even after he’d tamed Toothless, he’d never gotten an apology. No, just an ‘I’m proud,’ though for him, that was all they needed.

Stoick sighed exhaustively, then spoke gruffly, yet slowly as if choosing his words with caution, the same way he did during a dispute with the other villagers, instead of in the commanding way he spoke to Hiccup,  “I’m… I apologize. For how I behaved, earlier.”

Like most things, all the other words that needed passing between them went unsaid, but as it went since the Red Death, Hiccup got the message anyways.

His Dad started listening instead of standing immovably, commanding Hiccup more than he ever opened his ears, which was never. For the most part.

But, something tickled at the back of his mind, and with exhaustive clarity, he came to a sort of realization.

The way he said it, it kind of reminded him of the few times he’d let Gobber coach him on what to say, and the few times he’d let Gobber reenact his ideal family make-up scenario; Which, of course, Hiccup himself had never put much stock in.

Hiccup remembered all the times he’d taken advice from his mentor; when he was a kid, putting eggs in his shoes to deter trolls, Gobber telling him to drop his socks in the forge furnace because they’d be fine, just cleaner after; using Yak for everything…. Hiccup was pretty sure the whole yak thing was a hoax.

“It’s alright, Dad,” Hiccup said reluctantly though not without honesty. He was still too sour to apologize, which was one thing he and his Dad usually had in common, at least when it came to each other. 

He had no idea how it started, but they were both equally as stubborn, and he had a hard time feeling sorry right then, anyways.

Flirting, dating advice form Gobber when he was still into Astrid, which never worked, friend-making advice, dad-talking-to advice, which seemed to be the only kind of advice Hiccup could take from him without it blowing up in his face, not that he’d ever actually tried it yet. 

It was just the principle of it; things usually ended up going wrong anyways the moment Gobber opened his mouth, something Hiccup seemed to pick up from him just the same.

This had Gobber written all over it. And Hiccup was sour at the fact that it was beginning to work.

“Still,” Hiccup said, slouching and grumbling petulantly, though he was slightly pleased at being on the other end of thai conversation for once, “...You should stop taking advice from Gobber.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to keep your legs from giving out.

You propped yourself against the cool side of another hut, deep in Berk’s village, trying to keep quiet in case there were any Vikings inside sleeping, as if you were trying to creep around a set of thin tripwires.

Your hands were shaking as you went over the events of the last few hours in your mind as you stumbled through the village, face heated.

The vial, you pulled gently from your waist wrappings. It was glowing slightly where some of the water had soaked into the cork stopper

[mauesartetc]

Went ahead and revamped my redesign of Striker, taking a bit more inspiration from the original for the face shape, the stripes on the horns, the notch in the hat brim, the long fang, and rips in the knees of his jeans. Of course we don't want to go overboard with detail as ideally the design should work in a hand-drawn animated show, but a few small accents to show history and personality can make a big difference. The flat snout is closer to real-life Gila Monsters, but the slightly upturned snout has more character and visual appeal. I also made his eyebrows the same color as his hair so they'd stand out against his dark eyelids and sockets. And while we're at it, let's reveal the new fit!

I tried to picture what he'd wear when he wasn't on the move or working as a farmhand. Something a bit more formal. So now we have turquoise accessories with gold accents to match his eyes. The bolo tie is modeled after an owl skull (since this guy really wants to kill an owl character), and the sun-shaped belt buckle has five "rays" with the same symbolism as the five turquoise bullets he wears on a necklace in his regular ensemble. And I know I've given the Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel designs grief for leaning on the same tropes such as two-toned fingers, but it this case it made sense to keep them as they continue the color pattern of his stripes.

I honestly hope Helluva's writers do this character justice at some point, but given how they've handled villains so far, that's probably just a pipe dream.