Pokemon Carmine Fanart Novels & Stories

says Leonard, "but I like one that's close to orange, like a vermillion." "Vermillion is a nice color. It's got life similar to that of carmine, that's the shade I like," I say as I recall the earlier nine triangles I created in Majestic Theory and the description I gave them, "and carmine is a good match for vermillion." "Are you saying that you're a good match for me?" asks Leonard, smiling. "I'd like to say that I am," I say, "and I hope that I am so I'm not saying a lie."

He makes his way toward their kitchen. I stand up, scanning their small living room to ease my tense muscles. The small wall mounted wooden cubbies piques my interest. I grab the yellow miniature car out of the three. Surprisingly, it’s heavier than it looks, perhaps, it’s made from pure iron. The windshield is painted with black, a blue and two white stripes on each side—the same as the hood. I let my thumb rub the number 45 written on the top. “Oh, that’s Cam’s. Dad’s friend gave her on her fourteenth birthday. The other two, on her fifteenth and sixteenth.”

"Between the first car and the fourth which do you think would win?" My gaze shifted to the said cars, their engines growling like feral animals. The first car a pink BMW M3, owned by Dante's latest fling, Alana and the fourth car, a black Toyota supra, owned by his next fling, Melody. "It doesn't matter," I muttered, my voice low eyes glued to the cars. "Come on, don't be boring," Dante grinned. "Pick one." "Which one do you wish to win?" He hummed, his brows furrowed as he gave it a thought. "It really doesn't matter." He said finally. "But for you it might."

My feet jigged like those Salsa dancers on stage. “The car—” I grinned. I ran outside. My Imagination ran wild. I dreaded that the car would disappear immediately if I didn't claim it on time. And lo and behold, the freaking four-wheeler was parked. Right outside the front entry. A Porsche Cayenne Turbo Hybrid. Carmine red color. My favorite color. Jayden didn't just surprise me— no! He fucking surprised the shit outta of me. “When did he get this?” I asked out of nowhere. Only the air whispered. My question was left unattended.

"We never got to eat, you must be hungry," remarks Caspian as he keys in the code. A metal door smoothly slides open to reveal the biggest garage I've ever seen. There must be more than ten cars in there and several motorcycles. Why would they need that many cars? From practical sedans and SUVs to fancy sports cars. There is a BMW, a Jeep, a Buick, a Ferrari, a Porsche, a Bugatti...just wow! There are a few other exotic cars that I have never seen before and have no slightest idea what the make of them, but my mouth water at the sight of a red 1967 Corvette. That baby is totally lickable!

"I suppose it's because I've shifted quite a few times." I nodded, still looking at the ice-blue color of his irises in wonder. The entire time I'd known Cain, I was under the impression that his Lycanthropic ancestry was overpowered by the symptoms of Vampirism. Now I wasn't so sure. I wanted desperately to believe there was an internal struggle for dominance happening between the gene and the disease. I found myself hoping that the Lycanthrope would win. I followed Cain as he got out of the car, pulling the flannel blanket tighter around me as we walked through the cold garage and into the castle.

Although some part of me doesn't like the idea of that. I hurry out of my house right on time to find him leaning against his insanely cool car, waiting for me with a teasing smirk. His 1970s Chevy Camaro is a smooth inky black in colour with a thick white stripe reaching towards the windscreen on the bonnet. A picture-perfect car for a model-like man. This is actually my first time riding in it, although I have always wanted to ever since I first saw him pull up attracting everyones attention with the roar of his engine.

His mustang is comfortable inside. Breathable but my air seemed tight around him regardless of the quality of this world-class elitist car. His interior is colored coffee, the creamed coffee. Also the dashboard, it's painted black. Only two colors will be seen inside the car, The creamed coffee or dirty white with black. Gothic and shiny black. His car smells manly too, let's not forget that the owner of the car itself is manly. Take note also of the fact that he is sitting right next to me.

We follow him, Xavier with a doubtful expression. "Here, ladies and gentlemen, is our masterpiece." He points to a ruby red car that doesn't seem to scream "I'm rich" or "I'm beautiful." It's just a simple, attractive four-door vehicle that amazes me with its simplicity. "This car is the Pommel Fire, the first in its series. We're making it so fast, so powerful, that the body can't be that simple without reducing those two factors. It's so strong it can go through a brick wall, and it's completely waterproof. It may not be our most beautiful car, but it's certainly the most powerful-"

"It was time for your car to get a new battery... and we decided 'why stop there?' Do you like it?" "I LOVE it," Rose said. She gave both parents a big kiss, then ran outside wearing just her light baby-doll gown. The car was heavily customized with fender flares, wide oversized low-profile tires, pink mag wheels, a special hood, ground effects, a custom rear end treatment, fringe on the ragtop and a T-top that could be snapped on for cold weather, etc. But the biggest impression was made by the artwork, a custom line-drawing of what was clearly a naked female smurf. The art was both as suggestive, and as unrevealing, as the "naked lady" silhouettes that have adorned the mud flaps on semis f