color shifted

anonymous asked:

i really like the way you write Nursey and Shitty's relationship, so if you're looking for prompts, how about Nursey's friendships with other people on the team? Maybe Nursey and Lardo, Nursey and taddies, Nursey and Chowder, idk! friendships that don't get as much attention, i guess! thank you <3

Thank you for sending in this prompt! Sorry it took a little longer than the others; I got sick and have been sleeping for most of the past four days. I love friendships and I don’t write them nearly enough so this was really fun. Originally, I had planned on writing a bunch of little segments of Nursey with his friends, but, in the end, I only wrote him and Lardo. Hope you enjoy anyway. Thanks again :)

*~*

After a bad day…

           When Nursey walks into Lardo’s room, she’s painting her nails a sparkly purple color that shifts in a rainbow fashion when she moves her hands. This, when asked, Lardo describes as holographic nail polish and recommends three great brands before turning on some music and becoming silent. Nursey pulls a book off of the shelf, some recently read, love-worn book that will offer escape for a while. It’s about a girl who is orphaned at a young age and Nursey assumes that the ending is happy and she finds herself and a home by the last page, but, at the end of chapter two, Nursey decides that he needs a shorter success story than this can offer him.

           After deciding this, he puts the book back where he found it and looks up to see Lardo frowning at her computer screen. Nursey peers over her shoulder and sees someone’s hand spread over a blank background, with the nails a beautiful mix of colors. Galaxy nails, the description reads simply, then several tags, as it’s an Instagram post. Nursey does suppose that the nails look rather like space. He thinks of Dex, stupidly, who is both a giant space nerd and a giant walking analogy for the stars.

           “Can you do that?” Nursey asks, mostly because the silence has become familiar and oppressive and he doesn’t feel like reliving his childhood at the current moment.

           “No.” Lardo says it with the pouting petulance of a small child, but with the determined fire of a dedicated artist in her eyes. These eyes turn on Nursey in the next moment, and Nursey understands. He nods, and holds out his hands, and Lardo positions him where she wants him.

           Nursey sits quietly as Lardo applies several coats of nail polish to his nails. He keeps them clean and filed, mostly out of convenience than any kind of hygienic morality, so Lardo simply starts with a base coat and moves from there. She makes soft noises, sometimes talks or asks questions, but mostly she just hums some obscure indie songs or pushes air out of her mouth in increasingly strange ways.

           The mindless noises are Nursey’s favorites. He grew up in silence, half because his parents were working in the next room and could not be interrupted and half because his parents were working at work and there was no one there besides Nursey himself to make noise. It was a lot of work, to fill that large space, and he was such a small child. Of course, metaphorically, he probably still kind of is, but, with the humming and puffing and small talk, Nursey doesn’t have to think about that right now. He can think of Lardo and nail polish and the Haus, which is so old that it makes noise even when no one is around to hear it (and yes, you philosophers with too much time on your hands, it does still make a sound because Nursey needs it to.)

           Lardo messes up a few times and pulls out acetone to fix her mistakes. Then she applies this oil from a funny pen looking thing with a brush on the end that she calls simply “nail oil” and, after brief prompting, she begins to explain why it’s important. Nursey watches her face move as she speaks, her lips forming the words with a mindless ease that Nursey finds pleasant, and the rest of her face contorting in concentration and frustration with miniscule movements that most people can’t appreciate unless they are nail-painting-distance apart from Lardo’s face.

           “You’re really beautiful,” Nursey finds himself saying sometime after Lardo has moved on to talking about other nail art products. She likes nail art, Nursey knows, because it’s so temporary and so tiny, in the scheme of things and physically, but she gets to carry it around with her wherever she goes, and, when she does it right- when she likes it- it reminds her that she is talented, even just with this, and that, Nursey knows, is so important. It’s not unlike when he writes down a line or two on his hands and looking at it for the rest of the day not only helps him to think about the concept more, but it brings a smile to his face when it’s something really good. He wears it like pride, he thinks, when he doesn’t have enough on his own.

           Lardo flushes, a tiny thing, but there nonetheless, and Nursey’s always held an appreciation for the things that might as well be inconsequential but stubbornly stick themselves down and make other acknowledge them. She stammers for a moment before just shaking her head and ignoring him completely, going on to talk about something called nail art decals, and Nursey listens with the attentiveness of a church goer at mass.

           When Lardo is done, she insists that Nursey sits down on her bed and waits, because she won’t have him ruining her hard work by running off and touching things. Nursey does as she says and waits, and Lardo puts on some standup routine off Netflix and they sit, quietly, for a long time. It’s not oppressive or empty, and Nursey’s nails look damn beautiful. He tells her this, and she blushes again, but she’s smiling widely because this she can take credit for.

The Inevitable

The ground beneath the magister’s feet was cracked, parched, scorched by the felfire spewing forth from craters and crevices pocking the land. The heat was oppressive, stifling, and most of all, unnatural. Even in the Firelands the heat had been more bearable. There, at least, it did not bear the sickly taint of fel.

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anonymous asked:

Bimbo flower + Booboom milk!

She’d let out a little squeak as she felt her proportions swell, ballooning out to an even larger size. Next would come the make-up, some appropriately slutty stuff appearing on her face, while her hair shifted colors.
Whelp. This was a thing.

Fantastic Beasts was really good in that it was like watching two different but equally interesting movies that had a weird crossover section at the end. 

There was ‘cute british man child and animal friends take new york’ 

and ‘pain: the gay ghost story’ 

ocean gem

6

“I did not want to think about people. I wanted the trees, the scents and colors, the shifting shadows of the wood, which spoke language I understood. I wished I could simply disappear in it, live like a bird or a fox through the winter, and leave the things I had glimpsed to resolve themselves without me.”
― Patricia A. McKillip

Hiking along the Historic Columbia River Highway, Oregon

—- good…. morning?

good morning!   it’s two pm.  Hawkeye, you look like shit.

well, Hawkeye, I fell off a building yesterday. it’s not my usual look, but I feel like I’m rocking it.

who wore it better: concussion edition.

(pigment markers and acrylic and gold leaf and !PURPLE PEARL-EX! on canvas)

3

More Hyper Light Drifter/Breath of the Wild hybrid inspired pixel art. Really like the colors during sunset for this one.

Daylight: Blue tint with yellow light rays

Sunset: Orange tint with yellow light rays and an orange gradient coming from the top down

Night: Dark blue tint with light rays coming up from the lights instead of light rays coming from the sky

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Mermaid Fairy Dust Glitter Over Black Polish