#so sorry for the delay <3

[ogjujunwa]

Being the only toh artist who still draws camileda is so demoralising but as a sapphic monsterfucker I'm used to making my own food 🥱

Bonus speedpaint cuz I've never done that b4!!

[zeldonovan]

COUPLE DAYS LATE BUT HAPPY @d20exchange !!!! the lovely rocks twins for @lochnessieart !!!

[id: a digital drawing of ruby and jet rocks from a crown of candy, sitting next to each other with their hands joined, holding their respective weapons. their locket is drawn in between them, with "two of hearts" written below it. /end id]

[myork]

7/50 days of pjm ♡

park jimin going from to flirty to playful to being a dork to pouting to being a sunshine all within one clip while wearing a black shirt n his chanel necklace n his pink hair for @marvelousbangtan <3

[64-jungle-planks]

Night at the Museum: Redesigning Characters (Bonus)

Character profile: Napoléon "Le Petit Caporal" Bonaparte

This character is based off of and takes inspiration from the historical Napoleon Bonaparte.

Real Name: Napoléon Bonaparte

Nickname and Meaning: Le Petit Caporal - A term of affection from his soldiers

Age: 40-41 (Late 1809, early 1810)

Time Period: Napoléonic era frace

Family: Josephine de Beauharnais (ex-wife), Marie Louise (wife)+ seven siblings none of which were brought back besides Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte- his nephew

(Headcanons under the cut)

Based on/taken from History:

Pompous

Very overly confident.

Egotistical. He hasn’t seen his own downfall yet and feels he can win more.

On December 2, 1805, in his greatest victory, he defeated the combined Austrian and Russian armies in the Battle of Austerlitz.

signed treaties that created the Grand Duchy of Warsaw

Late 1809, early 1810, Napoléon’s roughly around 40-41

Still loves Josephine, but planning to divorce.

Upset she wasn’t remade alongside him

From Napoléon's memory, Joseph Bonaparte is king of Spain, but isn’t doing well.

Stupidly cute smile

+ Sensitive + Honest + Intelligent - Nepotist - Aggressive - Forgets other people have feelings

My own silly headcanons:

Has put on weight, he’s not used to fighting with it.

Napoléon likes to steal pop-it’s and water wigglers from the gift shop. He always has to have something in his hands to fidget with- normally it’s his gloves or a snuff box or taking apart and cleaning his pistol. Now that he has access to modern fidgets, he likes to taking the green ones.

He also really likes clicking mechanical pencils

He loves inventions that make life better in little ways. Canning food was invented in his life (he’s actually the one who offered a prize of 12,000 francs to improve the food preservation methods that existed at the time which led to canned food being invented) but there was no simple way to open the cans. He loves can openers- taking them with the promise of returning them to just take apart and put back together.

If your gossiping, he obviously eavesdrops. Napoléon cans and will butt into your conversation about someone and listen like you’re saying the most interesting thing in the world. If he can’t come over to you, he will do the lead paint stare at you.

Still acts like he’s emperor.

Originally thought the average height of humans gained a lot of height. He was envious up until he learned whoever created his mold got his height wrong and he’s 5’2”, not 5’7”, then, Napoléon was just pisssed off.

He loves to infodump about his victories and will call over his men to help act them out, sneaking small fibs in to make himself look even better than he already does. If you ask him about his losses, you’ll only get a stare in return and a quick “Non”. (Credit @frombottlealleytotheharbor)

“Hey, do you remember [insert battle he lost]? What was it like?” “…Non.” “But… weren’t you there?” He starts walking away. “Non.” “But—“ “NON!”

He gets into fights with Al because Al is someone who clearly doesn’t respect him. The Capone trio love to tease him - especially Frank and Al. Ralph watches with a grin, which is somehow even more infuriating to Napoléon.

Sometimes getting out of his box, he looks like a well-loved stuffed animal. It takes him a moment to get himself together.

Loves watching true crime and reality TV shows. Isn’t the biggest fan of Horror movies.

Somehow got his hands on a cigarette, absolutely died after one puff. Napoléon threw it onto the ground and stomped off coughing, vowing to never do it again.

He’s so very envious that Al and Ralph had even a bit of time with their sons while they were alive. François Charles was born after the time he was made, and it makes Napoléon feel so homesick and want his kid- one that he doesn’t even know. He absolutely adores Louis Napoleon, who he only met a few times.

Loves ABBA, originally he disliked, but he's grown to like it now that he knows the meaning

I gave him his Laurel wreath just because I thought they were cool and also to show that he's still very pompous and full of himself.

Unfortunately no doodles, I haven't had time!

Étienne Champenois belongs to @lidensword and Gustave Bréant belongs to @all-yn-oween

Frank, Al, Ralph

[kisses4kaia]

in my feelings was so good ahhhh i would love to see a part 2 where its the morning after or like tommy slowly showing reader how he rly feels !! deciding they are gonna stay married 😍😍

yes yes yes!! so grateful for the love on imf tho i kinda wanna mention that it’s highly inspired by in my feelings by lana del rey. so go stream it !! oh and fair warning; this is tooth rotting fluff. do not read if you aren’t prepared to swoon.⚠️ (part one here)

blue velvet🥿 - t, shelby ,,

that night, you and tommy didn’t speak another word to one another.

for months, the only times you and him would speak would be when of two things. you would speak either about mundane things, like the weather and plans for the evening.

or, when the two of you fucked.

although he had you often, you were sure he was seeing other women, too. by the lipstick stains on his collars in a shade of red you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing and also by the hushed whispering of the maids, feeling pitiful for you.

it killed you, because deep down, behind all the fights and ‘i hates you’s, you loved him. hatable as he is, yes, but you loved the person he was when he wasn’t on his guard, who he was deep down.

but he was always on his guard. there were only a few times you had seen him off of it.

it happened when you were 13. tommy had just turned 15 and a party much like your wedding was thrown for him.

unbeknownst to many, tommy shelby was not a party man. never was, never will be. he was frankly the only person within his hectic family whom possessed that quality.

so, he snuck away from the garrison- where the party was being held- and carefully made his way over to the river bank behind your house.

he didn’t know it was your house, honest. simply, he loved the scenery. he loved the sound of the horses happily trotting in their stables and the sound of the dogs chasing each other around the prairie.

there was no fence separating your backyard to the river, and so one of your dogs made his way to the birthday boy who was dangling his legs just above the stream.

“hey, buddy,” he laughed as your dog snuck up behind him, licking his face and neck. he quickly found himself forever petting frankie and scratching behind his ears, too.

he looked around and behind him, but no owner was to be found. he held frankie in his lap, resting his chin atop frankie’s head.

thomas remained like that for a while, occasionally speaking rhetorically to the dog. “today’s my birthday, you know. they threw me a party, can you believe it? i wish they knew me well enough to know i absolutely loathe parties.”

frankie was soon asleep in tommy’s arms, breathing serenely.

“frankie!” your terrified voice called from a distance behind tommy.

he turned around to see your face relax at the sight of your dog safe and sound.

“i’m sorry, is this your house?” he asked, waving to the house and barn in the close distance.

the sun was setting, and the horizon never looked so beautiful as the waning sunlight shined on your face. that was the moment tommy knew he’d met an angel on earth.

the way your toothy smile shined stupidly as you sighed and nodded, being awfully proud of your home.

“oh, i’m sorry. i’ll go, i didn’t realize i was trespassing. my apologies,”

that had to be the first time you heard of tommy shelby apologizing to another person.

you quickly shook your head. “no, stay. you mind if i sit with you?” you didn’t wait for his answer before plopping right down next to him, your legs being even shorter than his as they dangled next to one another.

he looked at you to see if you were joking or just completely oblivious to who he was. then he laughed, figuring he was in much need of some friendly company.

now, this was before you and tommy had ever met. however, you knew of him, of his notorious reputation of being cruel. you knew what people thought of him, but you wanted to know him. to you, he was just misunderstood, and in dire need of a friend.

you two sat there and talked. minutes turned into hours as you talked and talked until the cicadas sung and the blue hue’d moon began her nightly waltz with the silver stars.

he told you about his birthday disaster and his family, about his love for horses and for knowledge.

he laughed, he argued, he listened, he smiled, and he was happy. really, truly, very, happy.

you didn’t judge him, didn’t hedge or waffle around any subjects in fear of what he might do to you if faced with an opposing opinion. you treated him like a normal person.

“i like you, tommy shelby,” you admitted, the once cool grass beneath you now warm due to your everlasting presence atop the soil.

“i like you too, y/n y/l/n.”

and you met him at the same place everyday after that, just talking. you told him everything about you, all your innermost thoughts and secrets. about your mother and your animals, about your love for history and reading.

and in return, he- eventually- let you know of his vulnerabilities and weaknesses.

from tommy, that was like being gifted the most expensive, purest, most glimmering, block of gold.

his feelings towards you were becoming stronger and stronger each time he returned to the river bank. tommy soon realized he couldn’t be around you anymore.

although he told you most of his weaknesses and such, he never told you of one.

you.

he felt a certain way about you, a feeling he couldn’t shake. he was growing weak, and thomas shelby could not be weak.

- and he wasn’t planning on it, so he just… stopped showing up.

for weeks, you would wait for him at sunset by the stream behind the stables, but he never showed again.

and when you became friends with ada and often visited her home, he would avoid you like the plague. it confused and angered you. how could someone go from so warm to so cold in less than a month?

you gave up on it soon after, figuring you wouldn’t chase after anything that’s running.

as a result, you ignored him just as he ignored you.

up until year 9.

you always wondered what happened, what caused him to become so cold to you when he was just letting you in.

it was too late now to simply ask, so you were left to be forever in the dark.

tommy came home late that night, as he did every night. yet another confirmation of his infidelity.

you sighed to yourself, forcing a semi-smile on your face as you walked out of the drawing room to greet your husband.

“hello, thomas,” you smiled through gritted teeth, trying your hardest to maintain a smile as he scowls at your sudden appearance.

“alright, then. i’ll be reading if you need me, i suppose,” he nodded dismissively at you, and all sense of respect you tried to hold for him, drained in an instant.

your smile dropped and you rolled your eyes with a grimace when you walk away, not even bothering to spare him another glance.

by the time dinner was served, you hadn’t seen tommy once.

you ate alone, as thomas was busy in his office. you sighed after you finished your meal, grabbing a clean dish and fixing tommy a plate.

your heels clacked against the wooden tiles beneath your feet as you made your way to thomas’s office, plate in hand.

you knocked twice, not bothering to wait for his response before walking into the study.

“you missed dinner, thomas,” you placed the food before him on the desk, disregarding the important paperwork and documents you sat it atop.

he sighed, looked down at the plate, then up at you through his gold-rimmed glasses.

“i’m sorry? is that what you want to hear?” he continued working studiously, secretly willing you to leave him alone.

it took everything not to set fire to that desk.

“why’d you come home so late? hm?” you asked softly, but wished to scream.

“there was work that needed to be done,” said tommy nonchalantly.

you laughed. like, genuinely laughed. “huh. work that needed do be done at brothels?”

he looked annoyed, like you were some bothersome pest. “why do you care? you really expect some faithful husband from me? you’re the one who wanted this to be an arrangement,”

you opened your mouth to yell back but realized he was right.

no, this marriage is not one you want. so? was that his fault? it wasn’t, but you so badly wanted it to be, because how could he have stolen your heart then abandon it like breathing? and get away with it?

it was then you realized you were crying. tommy suddenly rose from his desk. “oh, i-i’m sorry. i didn’t-fuck- i didn’t mean to make you cry,”

he tried to approach you, put his arms around you, but you turned around and put your arm out, signaling for him to stop.

“y/n, i’m sorry. really, i’m sorry. please don’t cry,” he ignored your request for him to stay away and wrapped his arms around you.

you tried to push him off of you, but he just kept holding you.

he let you fall into his chest and collapse on the ground.

“why?” you croaked out, looking up at him through wet lashes, your nose rosey and cheeks stained.

“what?” he was confused, but continued to run his fingers through your hair.

you sniffled and rose to your feet again, thomas following suit.

“why did you stop coming to the river bank?! why did you leave me alone just when you finally began to let me in?!”

you were hitting him now, pounding your fists on his chest, and he was annoyingly unaffected.

“what? sweetheart, slow down,”

your heart was pounding in your ears and you felt your heart drop to your toes when you heard that. tommy hasn’t called you anything but your name since the river bank. and at the river bank, his favorite nickname for you was sweetheart.

insanely enough, you started laughing through your tears. laughing because you were confused? hurt? you don’t know, all you know is for some reason, this is all fucking hIlarious.

tommy’s confused, more confused than you, probably. “y/n, what is so funny?” he approached you again, and this time you’re too wrapped up in your head to care or stop him.

all of a sudden, the pain hits you again, with the force of a train, and you are desperate for closure.

“do you know how long i waited for you? every day, by the river?” your eyes were drying now, and anger was overtaking you.

he blinks and suddenly it’s like he finally understands the seven wonders of the world. “fuck, is that why you’re upset?”

you couldn’t help but stare at his stupidity. “thomas, you led me on for weeks, weeks! and then you stop showing up, because, i’m presuming, i grew boring? or you found some new, young, prettier, thing? you could have told me!” cried your weakening voice.

he opens his mouth to speak, but you aren’t done. “i guess not much has changed. i’m still so boring to you? you still need other women although i’m ruining my life being with you, isn’t that ri-“

he abruptly cut you off “fuck, y/n! it’s because i’m ln love with you!”

your attention was immediately all on him.

“you… what?”

“the reason i stopped coming to the river bank in because i’m in love with you. the reason i go to the brothels is because i am so fucking in love with you and i can’t be! i know, i know, you don’t love me too, okay? i know this is but an arrangement, i know. but, please understand that it kills me to pretend like i don’t,”

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, the word ‘love’ sounding foreign from thomas.

“that’s doesn’t make any sense. why would you stop seeing me if you loved me, start seeing other women?”

now he was scoffing at your ignorance. “don’t you get it? i can’t afford to be in love, not when i have the biggest bounty in the city on my head. i can’t put that danger on you, i’d die before. also, it scares me, quite frankly,” he whispers the last part.

you couldn’t hold back the twitching smile on your lips. “why didn’t you say anything?” whispered you softly.

he chuckled lightly. “you know yourself, you’d never had given up on me,”

you tilted your head in a ‘touché’ manner.

“i do love you too, you know. in case you couldn’t tell,”

a short silence whisked in the air like a winters breath.

“c’mere, sweetheart.” his voice beckoned you over towards him.

you slung your arms around his shoulders. “what if we… didn’t divorce?”

you smiled up at him before kissing him. “i think that’s a good idea.”

tags; @mrkdvidal1989 @fairytale07 @svtansdaddyx

[superlarva]

I am so sorry, but I have been traveling this past week and I forgot my flash drive that has all the chapters written on it, so I will not be posting chapter 7 of Raising Dominoes until Wednesday when I return home.

In the meatime, here's an old drawing I did of Echo and Fives as I was coming up with ideas for the fic.

[netegf]

violet chemistry (ii)

pairing: aged up!ao'nung x f!metkayina reader

plot: you and ao'nung attempt to regain control in your lives by fake-dating. the irony is… this is fated.

word count: 2.7k

a/n: the next instalment in my fake-dating!, friends to lovers!, best friend’s brother!au - once again, this takes place roughly 10 years after atwow - some pining + flirting, made-up rituals, attempts at comedy, & angst (WILL be resolved)! i really hope you enjoy part 2 🥹💖

previous next

In all honesty, Ao’nung has been trying his hardest to avoid you. Only, that impulse is very quickly thwarted when he considers how many clan gatherings and rituals courting Na’vi couples attend together. Sitting before you and the azure clay bowl of paint you hold in your hand, for the first time in a long time, Ao’nung has a single thought. He really hadn’t thought this through.

“Stop moving.” You hum, brows pinched together in concentration as you swirl the coal-coloured paint with a brush much like the baleen of a whale’s mouth. Sitting with the feelings he’s been having, a part of him wonders what it might be like to be suspended in water and consumed entirely into the jaws of a sea beast. He listens almost immediately, then realizes that’s slightly out of character for him, resorting to a slight narrow of the eye that makes him look younger than he is.  

“You’re strangely quiet.” Your eyes bore holes into him, but he has a gift for escaping confrontation – staring somewhere off in the distance until his vision blurs.

Ao’nung hopes he looks nonchalant when he shrugs, but knows you. Knows that your keen. He doesn’t know how many times he’s come to communal dinner with a face he thought he’d fixed, but you'd been able to tell there was something off. A mediator of energy; you might as well have been able to smell it off him. But this wasn’t something he could let go of. He might’ve saved his favourite kills for you during the hunt in childhood, but this was profound. Pandora spins on a different axis. Everything looks like it’s in a different colour. How long had he loved his friend?

“Yeah.” He admits, chewing on his bottom lip. “Just worried you’re gonna, y’know… ruin my face for life?”

You roll your eyes with emphasis.

The ritual he refers to is one in which courting Metkayina couples draw facial tattoos for each other in paint, emulating what might one day be permanent. Unfortunately, Ao’nung has known you long enough to know that artistry has not been one of your most obvious gifts, and you pinch your eyes at him as the smug words leave his mouth.

“Shut up.” You hiss. “Or I’ll draw Lo’ak on your cheek.”

“Ambitious goal for an amateur.” He punches back, then nearly recoils.

Ao’nung can feel himself being mean – meaner than usual – and it casts a cloud of shame over him. He really thought he’d passed that point in his life where he masqueraded around his feelings and hacked them up alone until his throat bled. Childish, it felt. Something that gave him grief and gratitude – annoyed at his immaturity, but a strange sense of happiness at the fact that he could afford it. Still, you deserved better, and that pained him.

You grant him a small scoff then continue your ministrations.

Naturally, his eyes come to focus on your eyebrows knitted together, your tongue darting out of your mouth ever so slightly as the artistic vision you have in your mind comes to fruition, the subtle tremor of your careful hands. Instinctively, one of his hands comes up to stabilize yours, gripping the joint of your wrist.

Breath hitching just slightly, you quirk a brow. “You know… if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you’re enjoying this.”

“Gotta get you to my mom.” He mumbles, hand dropping to his side like a dead fly. “Get your eyes checked.”

After a few more strokes of the brush, and a couple dozen eyerolls, the design is finished.

“Done.” You say happily, fingers holding Ao’nung’s chin as you admire your handy work.

The pattern isn’t particularly complex or striking, but it decorates the high points of his face, each dark shape a representation of his achievement and growth as a hunter, as future Olo'eyktan, and your favourite – boy that loves the water.

Ao’nung’s eyes widen when he takes in his reflection.

“It’s, uh… more subtle than I thought it would be.” He says finally, clearing his throat, heat colouring his cheeks a new kind of colour.

He had to admit, it was pretty. He must have imagined what this would feel like a thousand times in his life. That one day, he’d rise to his rank, wear his adornments, and feel completely different. Feel like he was worthy of his position in the clan. To his surprise, time moved fast, but he very rarely did. All Ao’nung felt over the years was a lot of sameness – but today, wearing your tattoos on his face, he felt a sense of pride pang in his chest. He looked the part, and maybe that meant something.

“Well, we can’t have the clan forgetting you’re handsome. However would they stand your prickly temperament?”

Ao’nung feels prepared to roll his eyes at the diss, but then he catches himself. Better yet, he catches you, saying something you hadn’t exactly meant to reveal, but knew to be true nonetheless. He looks at you cautiously.

“You think I’m handsome?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you contemplate for a moment. Was there really anything wrong with admitting it? Just about everyone on the reef thought so, he had to have known that.

“Everyone thinks you’re handsome, Ao.” You try to soothe over the slip-up. “People line up to see you when you come back from the hunt, I think someone fainted when you tamed tsurak, this information can’t be surpris-,”

“But you.” He says quickly, eyes excruciatingly earnest. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Yes…I do.”

Ao’nung supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, and yet he is. He wasn’t a stranger to be being praised for his looks, but this was uncharted territory – a line that had never been crossed, and maybe intentionally so. Since when did you think so? Since when did a compliment for him fall so easily off your pretty lips and tongue like you were the only one he was meant to receive such words from?

You must have noticed his slow blinks and slightly gaping mouth as he thinks through it all, because then you’re saying something that has him absolutely reeling.

“Eywa, if that blows your mind, how are you going to react to the fact that I had a crush on you half my life?”

There’s a hint of humour in your tone, but Ao’nung is having a hard time understanding why it’s so funny – eyes nearly bulging out and erratic breaths practically choking him.

“Had?” He stammers, past-tense poking a hole in his heart. “When?”

“When?” You snort. “Like, forever. Well, until I grew out of it.”

He must look insane, brain jumping from thought to thought, zoning in on words that illuminate a fire in his gut, and others that just as quickly put the fire out in a wade of water that he, for once, does not welcome. A revelation, and the revocation of it. A sparkling jewel in his palm mere seconds before it disintegrates, leaving no trace of what once was, as if it were merely a tantalizing mirage and nothing more.  

“When the Sully’s arrived?”

“Yup.” You say too casually for his liking, popping the ‘p’. “And before… and after.”

“But I was so mean.”

He bites his tongue almost bitterly, almost incredulous. He had admirers over the years, sure – but those were souls that knew him from great distance, and there was comfort in that. But you… you knew him. Not just the great triumphs, but the pitfalls which were equal in magnitude and not for the faint hearted. He had to admit, his concept of love was more superficial. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel it, at least not in the way his parents did – in his eyes, they got lucky, and his future partnership was bound to be more political than it was anything else. And maybe that was his crutch, the lack of feeling. Maybe that was the reason he’d never crossed this line, never entertained having you as his.

Because that would be all-consuming. That would be the truest thing he’d ever felt – really a fish out of water like everyone pegged him to be. Painfully new, and painfully beautiful, and completely unrecoverable if it ended up not working out.

Though at this moment, he hates himself for that careful distance between you – the way this is a wound you’ve presumably healed from, while he bleeds out right before your eyes.  

“What can I say?” You smile, teasing him in the way you do, the way he loves. “I like a challenge.”

“Right.” He manages, breath still shaky, but the corners of his mouth slowly lifting.

The tide was changing and he needed to find a way to make it stop.

Apparently, his father was right. All those years spent build levees would finally coming to good use.

The night’s festivities are an especially generous feast and a series of dance rituals that you, while hesitant to admit it, know like the back of your hand.

Ao’nung sits with his father and other seasoned hunters in the clan, nodding absentmindedly to their spirited conversation about tracking game, which he admittedly knew very little about.

Really, he smiled when they smiled, stroked his chin when they seemed to debate something, and when he really hadn’t a clue what Tonowari was saying, gave a pretend laugh followed by a silent prayer to the great mother that he wasn’t being informed about someone’s death.

He had more important matters to mull over. Like you, sitting across the fire pit, engrossed in a conversation with his sister.

Entirely too receptive to his gaze, you momentarily stall from your speech to meet his eyes, lips curving into a small smile and hands giving a tentative wave. Ao’nung opts out of waving back but holds his piercing stare, convinced that the rounds of your eyes are more illuminating than the fire – and unlike its embers, your luminosity will stay.

“My son,” Tonowari’s voice booms over the overlapping chatter. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”  

Ao’nung nearly chokes, the tips of his ears turning an endearing shade of purple as he realizes he’s been gawking for far too long, and the last topic he recalls listening to was three conversations ago.

“I think, uh… everyone has made some important points.” He mumbles, while you and Tsireya snicker at him from across the fire.

Tonowari quirks an eyebrow at him, but luckily, chooses not to harp on it. He slaps a hand over Ao’nung’s back as if to excuse him from the conversation – not that he was contributing much anyways.

Ao’nung smiles gratefully and quickly makes his way over to you, scratching the back of his neck.

“Was that as embarrassing as I think it was?”

“Even more.” You laugh, scrunching your nose in a teasing kind of sympathy. “But it’s okay, we still love you.”

The ease to which the word ‘love’ falls out of your mouth makes him wince a little – this wasn’t the kind of love he’d found himself craving from you as of late, tossing and turning in his marui when he’s meant to be sleeping, very much aware that he’s awake behind those closed eyelids. He turns to Tsireya.

“Can I borrow her?” He asks as his sister’s eyes swell with intrigue. He feels the need to explain. “For a dance.”

Tsireya nods, a small smirk on her face before she dismisses herself.

“Duty calls?” You ask, shivering as his hands find their place on your hips, the pair of you slowly swaying back and forth to the beat of ceremonial drums. This is a practice for all courting Na’vi couples – they surround you at all sides, clumsily moving their bodies and giggling together, their love almost something physical in the air.

“Something like that.” He mumbles, eyes sheepishly raking over you. “You look nice.”

“I don’t have any extra food, Ao.”

“What? I don’t want your food.” He erupts. “I’m being serious.”

“Oh, okay. In that case, thanks. You look nice, too.”

Ao’nung’s ears perk up, toothy canines peeking out from under his lips in a sideways smile. He hopes the budding violet colour on your cheeks means what he thinks it does.

“So, what have you been up to?”

“Since I saw you this morning?” You repeat, eyebrow slightly raised.

“Yes. I mean, no.” He breathes shakily, rubbing his face in dismay. “Or, you know, in general.”

“Nothing too crazy.” You say softly, a certain lamenting in your voice. “I kind of live in a box, remember?”

Ao’nung nods. He bites the inside of his cheek, thinking for a moment, the heels of his feet burning as he tries to think up a way to make that sad look in your eye disappear.

“But I’m here.” He offers.

“Yeah. You’re here.”

The way your eyes soften as you say words has his heart soaring. He leans in a little closer, the rhythmic buzzing of the percussion reaching a peak. Your mouth parts slightly. It feels like it means something.

But you’re soon interrupted when the music stops and all the couples come to a halt, just the painful empty air of what could’ve been filling the space between you.

Ronal appears from just across the fire-pit as she pulls her son in for a conversation he’s sure he won’t listen to. He mouths a gentle ‘sorry’ before disappearing, leaving you with your thoughts and Tsireya, who takes a seat on the log next to you.

“You two look friendly. Or should I say, more than friendly?” Her grin looks like it could reach her ears it’s so wide.

“It’s pretend.” You remind her dejectedly. “Just because you and Lo’ak are going strong, doesn’t mean you can bring your loved-up vibes over here.”

Tsireya scrunches her nose in displeasure at the English word. It didn’t mean much when Lo’ak used it in conversation, and it didn’t mean much now.  

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but my brother pretends very poorly.”

Your gaze shifts to where Ao’nung is standing, eyes trained on his mother with a far-away look in his eyes – you have to force yourself to bite back a laugh.

“He doesn’t see me that way, Reya. He never has.” You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip. “And besides, even if he did… I can’t be the mate he needs.”

“You love him, do you not?” She asks, clearly puzzled.

You look at Ao’nung again, now speaking in a small circle of Na’vi.

One member in particular makes your tender heart ache. A young Metkayina woman. She’s a skilled weaver and even better huntress. Beautiful, reliable, eager for leadership and responsibility. Not weighed down by strangeness. Not heavy with unbridled emotion. Strong and loving, in the way he needs – more palatable.

“Maybe love just isn’t enough sometimes.”

“Maybe,” Tsireya’s voice breaks through your spiral. “You are scared.”

Perhaps Tsireya has a point, or perhaps she doesn’t. Regardless, the constricting in your chest is hard to shake off. Even when she softly cups your cheek before walking away. Even when Ao’nung finds a way to escape whatever boring topic of discussion that has it’s claws digging into his sides, and his lips, yearning for yours, again. Small smile teasing at his mouth, he tugs at your hand.

“Hey, maybe we can get them to play a little more? Have another dance?”

“Ao… I think we need to stop. I-I don’t want to do this anymore.”

More than the words, it’s the pain in your eyes that punches him hard in the gut, leaving his lungs gasping for mouthfuls of air that don’t seem to dull the stinging. Your breaths do something similar, chest heaving, fighting every instinct in your body that tells you this is wrong because protecting him feels more important. It’s in that moment that Ao’nung realizes he doesn’t like comparing you to fire. It’s born to die. Warm and hungry, but it’s not for touching and it’s not forever.

His hand leaps forward to catch your shoulder, but you’re bolting before he can follow-through – fingers flinching back from the heat on your skin.

a/n: reblogs + tags are always appreciated 🪐🩷🫶🏼 i hope you enjoyed! how do we feel about part 3? 🤭

[forestials]

Hi! I’m absolutely in love with the way you draw Celebrimbor. Could you draw him at the forge/with the three rings?

Yes I totally can, say no more.

Also thank you so much!!

[splat-details]

could you get pictures of the version of hagglefish market in the background of crableg capital? i'm curious how different it is from the full-size version

absolutely! for something so hard to see in normal gameplay, its surprising how close it is to the regular map!

[chaotic-goodsir]

[2aceofspades]

'' 🐹 '' *petting you like a hamster*

pat pat pat

:)

🐹 for “You? Intimidating? Hell no.”

WAH thank you Cha 🥹♥️✨!!

Gah- you're too sweet/pos pos pos

(:

[arcanusarchieves-if]

The classic jealous ask! What would be the ros reaction to the mc being flirted with in front of them? crushing stage!

I've admittedly been waiting for this one, it's always one of my favorites to read about on other ifs' blogs. I kinda hijacked the prompt a little and made so it's another (random) Circle member flirting with MC! I hope you don't mind.

"Hello {MC}, I hope you're not busy. I know that these meetings can be quite frantic so I was wondering if you would be up to having a quick lunch so we can discuss things. There is this lovely little cafe that I think you will really enjoy. It's not too far, it's just down by-" Astoria stops dead in her tracks, simply blinking at you and [Random Circle Member] for a few awkward moments. Dark brown eyes simply gaze into your own for a while - they seemed longing almost, as if searching desperately for something. Eventually, she ends up clearing her throat, giving a forced but somehow still kind smile, before continuing to speak as if nothing had happened, although her hands do tremble ever so slightly as she does so. "I see that you're currently occupied. I will...see you later I suppose. If you have any questions about the meeting feel free to reach out MC - and obviously you as well [Random Circle Member]. My door is always open." You open your mouth to respond but before any words are able to tumble out, Astoria turns around and walks away throwing a quick "I'll just being grading papers up in my office - if you need anything" over her shoulder as she leaves.

"I was hoping that you and I could go out sometime? I mean I really like you MC and-" A figure slides into the seat next to you, firmly wrapping a leather-clad arm around your shoulder, interrupting [Random Circle Member]'s admittedly awkward attempt at stumbling through a confession. Your eyes dart over to the cause of said interruption and are completely unsurprised to see Caspian's smirking face staring back at you. After all, few people would have the pure audacity to insert themselves into a random interaction like this - and even fewer would be willing to touch someone like you so openly while doing so. "So, what're you two are talking about? I mean I wouldn't want to interrupt anything important, but I was wanting to show {MC} some of the upgrades that I made on the bike - it's been so long since we've been able to catch up and all! We'll see you around though." Caspian has you standing up and pulled away before you even realized what has happened - if it wasn't for the smug smirk crossing his face every so often, you wouldn't even realize he did it on purpose.

"Of course, this is where I would find you. Hovering around and making horribly awkward attempts at courtships while the rest of us are slaving away at [Whatever Strategy the Circle is Doing]. Not particularly surprising but frustrating, nonetheless. It's nice to know where your priorities lie, {MC}." Solaine's sharp words slice right through the conversation that you were having. A deep purple gaze locks straight onto you, not even deigning to look towards your current conversation partner. They look deeply unimpressed, something angry and bitter lingering in their eyes, before they look away with a scoff. Pushing a strand of snowy hair behind their ear, they sneer before turning around and walking towards the exit, their movements precise as always. Seeming unable to stop themself, they throw a few words over their shoulder as they are leaving. "If your outing ends up being unsatisfying, as I imagine it will be, feel free to track me down so we can get some actual work done. Despite your...personality flaws...your skill set can be occasionally useful."

"Anyways, I was thinking that we could go down to [Random Restaurant]? The foods great and I can assure you that you'll have a great time." Shifting around uncomfortably, your eyes dart across the room, unable to decide if it would be safer to stare at [Random Circle Member]'s flirtatious expression that's right in front of you or Maeve's unimpressed amber eyes that are glaring into you from the other side of the table. You open your mouth to answer the question that [Random Circle Member]'s had posed but are almost immediately interrupted by a snarky voice. "{MC} doesn't like [Type of Food Served At Restaurant]." You could feel yourself internally flinch at the slightly baffled expression on [Random Circle Member]'s face. Any sympathy you have for them however immediately disappears at the pure stupidity of their next choice; they scoff at her. "Well, I didn't know that so-" Maeve stands up interrupting their words. She doesn't even give you a chance to respond as she stands up and stomps out of the room, muttering angrily as she passes by you. "You don't even know what food they like, and you asked them out on a date? That's - you know what? You're right, it doesn't even matter. Have fun at [Random Restaurant], MC. Hope you can manage to find something that you'll like."

"So, what do ya say, MC? Wanna grab a bite? I promise you'll have a good time. Just let me know by the end of the meeting, kay?" You can feel Jasper's eyes on you as [Random Circle Member] asks the question. You turn to meet his gaze for a moment and are a bit surprised to see something bitter and longing that is lingering in his amber eyes. Just as quickly as it came though, the look disappears, leaving Jasper's normally kind and patient expression behind. He gives you an encouraging, albeit forced, grin before he begins mouthing a few quick words to you. The moment he sees your face scrunch up in confusion, he reaches for a piece of paper and quickly jots something down before sliding it over to you. 'You should say yes. They seem to like you a lot :)' - J You feel your eyes soften at the encouragement but the moment you look up to mouth your thanks, you see that his attention is now occupied towards the current strategy talk. You wave it off as him being invested in his work but can't help but feel that something is off when you don't manage to catch his eye the rest of the meeting...

[dreamingpartone]

He was very aware of how close they were... Just like their picnic, when it was two of them bathed in candlelight. When a million things could have happened next, but Asahi knew exactly what he wanted.

Threads of Gold: chapter five

[pushing500]

Hello! Just popping in to say sorry about the delay in RimWorld posts! The next few pages are taking forever to draw, but I promise I'm working on them!

A lot happened in my game all at once, so there's a lot to draw, lol. In the meantime, enjoy these doodles of Magic Man I did while I was at work!

I was trying to draw Magic Man's tail because I don't think I draw it very much and it is pretty cool.

Every time I remember that Magic Man's given name is "Louis" I crack up laughing. He doesn't look like a Louis, but I suppose maybe I'm just too used to "Magic Man", which is an arguably weirder name.

Finally, as a special treat (and as an apology for taking so long with updates), here are the very, very, very first designs for Vasso, Laursen, and Bella that I ever drew! This was drawn while I was waiting for the results of the "Eldritch Cult VS Mechanitor" poll, so there is a special guest appearance from the Mechanitor we'll meet once this current run is over. It's probably considered a spoiler, so I'll pop it under here:

Don't mind the scribbling; this was a very early draft as I tried to work out what I wanted the characters to be like.

Bella used to be so small T.T

[thefrsers]

requested by Anon:

HAPPY CASTAVERSARY SAM HEUGHAN AS JAMIE FRASER

(JULY 09.2013-PRESENT)

[isawken]

This might seem a little out of left field, but do you watch the Philly Mummer's parade? I think mummery is pretty heavily tied to foolery.

i had never even heard of this before but holy moly am i glad i do now

also i looked up what a mummer actually is out of curiousity and here's a quick lil history lesson for those of you who like that kind of stuff: there was apparently there's a precedent in medieval times (i so far have only found specificity mostly referring to england) for something called a "mummers play" which, as far as i can tell from some quick research, looks like was just some loose group of actors who would go like house to house on holidays and pretend fight each other in character for the entertainment of the viewers. and then a doctor character would revive the loser and they'd move on to the next house, rinse repeat. the characters would often be well known established characters like robin hood or king george. not a lot of talking, mostly just fun gesticulations. i did also find reference of german and austrian mummers plays (mummenschanz) featuring, not fighting, but instead just going into people's houses and playing dice, which i'm not clear if that was supposed to be a funny ha ha type thing or just like. general shenaniganry. idk if there's much fake fighting in these parades but i hope there is, i'd love to see all those jokers fake fighting to the death. all in all ur right anon, it is tied to foolery thanks to the heavy use of pantomime!