#⛏️🪢

[self-shipping-doll13]

Gold-Embossed Dinner Plates

November Prompts

Wc: 3930

Tw: Slight NSFW

There was a wild lashing outdoors, the droplets bouncing off the pavement. It was 4:30pm when 4:30pm was a late Autumn evening, and no longer a Summer afternoon. Not taking joy in the needles of rain I’d be braving in my venture, I was zipping up my fleece to stave off the late chill when my co-worker pulled me aside.

Ubbe and I had spoken only a couple of times before. He was good for our customer base, since a few people sidled in to smile at him dreamily when they bought their expensive pastries.

“Someone told me you had a run in with my brother,” Ubbe began, and there was a wry twitch on his lip.

“Yes, I met him a couple of days ago,” I said mildly.

That the two men were related should not have come as a surprise. They had the same last name, the same blue eyes—but Ubbe’s had not such keen ferocity.

The memory rekindled a fire in my cheeks. Ubbe seemed to choose his words thoughtfully, examining my face. “…I think I should apologise on his behalf. He didn’t say anything to bother you? Ivar can be unpredictable—he does things without thinking.”

“No, no,” I replied with dismay. How conscientious of Ubbe, but I was eager to mollify any worries he had. What garbled version of the story had he heard? “Nothing bad went on,” I reassured him. “We just had a little awkward moment. I’m fine, don’t worry at all!”

“Ah,” he accepted this correction, distancing himself. “Then forget I said anything.” And he smiled so that he showed the whites of his eyes. I hurried home.

That was before I started actually dating his brother, and I was soon made aware of Ivar’s brusque attitude (which I grew to find charming) by his… unorthodox teaching methods. Evidently others were unaccustomed to his gentler side. But I certainly did not resent the fact that I received special treatment. It made me feel, well, special. Later he told me I was.

From Ivar’s now-and-again comments on his family I gleaned a few more things: he had a half brother named Björn who was travelling the Mediterranean. The middle child, Hvitserk, was a tattoo artist and lived in the city with his girlfriend Thora—fine work. In those quiet moments late at night, I trailed my fingers softly across the sable whorls of ink on his skin. Sigurd, one year older than Ivar, had estranged himself from certain members of his family a couple of years ago and was trying to eke out a living as a musician. As a rule, he and Ivar despised each other, and Ivar was not keen on my speaking to Sigurd anytime soon. Or ever.

Floki, a family friend and apparently Ivar’s old teacher, was the person Ivar was most nervous for me to meet, because he held him partially responsible for his interest in old Norse history. Floki actually lived near my own home, on the briny grey coast. He made boats—in fact, he made a whole lot of other things. So one day, I found myself in the heart of his workshop, in a modest dwelling by a quay. Intricate carvings lined the tall shelves, and the wood shavings Floki blew from a coffee table made clear he had a pretty spontaneous work ethic. His wife, Helga, was immensely doting and kind, though sad-eyed. Dunking biscuits in hot cocoa whilst in their sitting room, I listened to the waves break up against hulls of white painted ships. It was probably the most comfortable I’d felt around Ivar’s family.

Floki was not related to Ivar by blood, but with his eccentricities, he definitely fit into the archetype of a ‘fun uncle.” Secretly I thought he acted more like Ivar's father than his actual father, whom I’d once met briefly in the hall landing just as he was shrugging on his fur-lined coat. Ragnar hummed at me blankly like I was the new and easily shatterable vase, and then left to go on and do other things.

I got the feeling that maybe he’d left that landing a lot in the past.

Ragnar had been separated from his wife Aslaug, Ivar’s mother, for over a decade. Not legally perhaps, but in every way that mattered. As I’d first seen her after seeing Ragnar, she was stiff and distracted, and seemed to look through me rather than at me. Aslaug and I smiled politely in the vague direction of the other, but without any real engagement. She was tall, auburn-haired and intimidatingly beautiful, so I knew where Ivar got his good genes from.

The idea of a more substantial meeting would not come up until something like a week or two after that. It was during one of those nights, lonesome but for the two of us and fuelled by kisses and caffeine, where it was impossible to resist getting lost in each other. And we got pretty lost—two times, three times—lost so thoroughly I could barely recall any other words than his name, and the soreness he left behind was the sweetest thing. Panting, I lay curled up against him, sweaty and sticky and satisfied. My heart was pounding and our intermingled breathing was so loud, the scent of sex permeated the air. The city outside was alive with blaring car horns and the drunken shouts of Halloween revellers, floating in through the open window and into his apartment. I could’ve died right there and been content.

“A girl could really get used to this,” I mumbled.

Ivar was rubbing my hip. “Yeah?”

Gazing up at him affectionately, I propped my chin up on my knuckles as I stretched my legs and toes out. His eyes had that tired, sultry glazed over look.

“Sweetheart… Keep staring at me like that and I’m going to be tempted to have a go at you again.”

I grinned cheekily. “Hm, I wouldn’t stop you.”

My muscles were utterly relaxed—I was steadily growing drowsy and my lids were drooping. He planted a kiss on the top of my head, shifting under me.

“You want to sleep, don’t you?”

Yawning, I nodded. “Should go to the bathroom first…”

Basking in the afterglow, I hated to drag myself away from him, and it was tough to lift up and roll out of bed. Caressing me with slow, gentle motions, he held fast.

“Wait, listen,” Ivar said, nose still buried in my dishevelled hair. “I wanna talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?”

Ivar tucked a loose strand back. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly. “How would you like it if I asked you to come to dinner with me and my family this weekend?”

I blinked for a moment. This statement was spoken more like a question; lacking in his usual confidence. “Of course I’d go,” I told him, without really thinking.

“That was fast,” Ivar said hazily. “My mother wants to get to know you, this girl I keep talking about. And my older brothers are going to be there. Two of them.” He puffed air out of his nose, then looked at me seriously, with pleading eyes. “Do you mean it? You want to go?”

“Yes.” Propping myself up on my elbow, I trailed a line down his jaw, finding light stubble and coaxing him into a grin. “Did you really think I could say no to you?”

“Saturday.” Ivar told me, chasing my hand to kiss it like he always did. “And I’m looking forward to it.”

Humming, I pressed my lips to his and then got up, goosebumps rising on my arms in the cool evening air. We both had a lecture the next morning, with him in his usual role. It was a good thing I wore a turtleneck to hide the purple welts blooming on my throat.

Once I had more time to ruminate on my decision, I felt I was actually a bit concerned. If Ivar was antsy for me to be like Floki, I was nervous to properly acquaint myself with his mother. Questioning if I truly measured up was a daily occurrence—if just an internal one—and it did feel like a kind of yardstick was awaiting me.

Fiddling with the straighteners, I examined myself doubtfully in the mirror that Saturday. My exact fear could not be pinpointed—it was a cluster of little fears. I was anxious for his mother and I to get along, to not be found disappointing; too unattractive, too socially inept, too working class. Beyond this, I was just anxious, and slightly clammy with my makeup and my hair done up.

Aslaug met us both at the door, dazzling with perfectly straight white teeth. “Jasmine, welcome,” she held both my elbows gently. “Ivar’s told me so much about you.”

“And you,” I told her, smiling as graciously as I could as she brought her nose to my cheek in a fake air kiss. I tensed up a bit, not sure whether to reciprocate.

“Don’t scare her off,” Ivar smirked, arching a brow.

Aslaug threw him a mild glare, and I was struck by the facial similarity. “You will have to excuse my son, Ivar has no manners in this house,” she said gravely.

My lips twitched as I was startled into amusement. About the exact same time as he said: “She loves it.” I told her: “Oh, that’s never been a problem for me.”

After some gracious laughter, she turned to head back into the dining hall, he took my hand discreetly, the other flexing around the spiked handle of his crutch. “C’mon, It’s just this way,” Ivar whispered into my ear, and I nodded and trailed after him into the dining hall. Tired, I did not feel as adept at socialising as I did on recharged days. But I was glad that it seemed Aslaug had forgotten how our original meeting went, because that meant I could hopefully make a better impression.

At this point I’d been in their house a few times before, but tonight I was struck by how nice the place was. The house itself was located in a safe, well-groomed neighbourhood, filled up with doctors and big cars. Probably cleaned up for the guests’ arrival, too. I sat down in my chair, in awe of the gleaming silverware and finely embroidered tablecloth in rich hues of crimson and gold. Careful not to let any loose drops besmirch it, I poured a stream of gravy onto my food and passed the boat to Ivar, who drained it dry.

“This looks amazing,” exclaimed Thora. She seemed more comfortable with the new faces than I was.

“It’s one of our family’s favourite dishes,” replied Aslaug. She ate her meal delicately, and had refused the offering of the gravy boat. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you for having us,” I piped up, trying to meet her gaze directly. “You have a beautiful dining table.”

“Not at all. Please, make yourself at home.” Aslaug wore a green velvet dress, and ornaments tinkled at her wrist as she held the stem of her wine glass. “I hope the traffic coming down wasn’t a problem? Siggy’s been very troubled with it lately.”

“No, it was fine,” I said reflexively.

“How is Siggy?” Hvitserk asked, shovelling in piles of food into his mouth. Aslaug’s face turned awkward.

“Doing her best to cope with the changes,” she said in a gentle voice. “Living in an empty house when you’re not used to it can be difficult. She likes to fill up her time, so I take her with me to Pottery class. But from what I’m hearing, Thyri is doing well in America.”

Ivar was digging in by my side, wholly unaffected by the formal atmosphere. “That seat is empty.” He sent it a combative side-glance. “I thought I’d see Ubbe here.”

There were three vacancies. Untouched chairs made of high-backed mahogany. Myself and Thora’s were clearly the reserves, metallic and modern in design.

“Ubbe couldn’t make it,” explained Aslaug. “He’s been very busy lately. He works on Saturdays now.”

Ivar flashed one of his sinister false smiles. “Hm. It’s just been a while since I’ve last seen him, that’s all.”

Hvitserk cleared his throat. “Working two jobs… That’s Ubbe for you. He told me he’s saving up for the grand hotel booking.” I did always peg Ubbe as the type to not accept financial help. Hvitserk took a loud sip of his drink. “But you know, I think I agree with him. Margrethe deserves to be a happy bride.”

Thora looked to him curiously. “Margrethe?”

“Yeah, she’s his fiancé.”

Observing the pleasantries, I cut my meat, my knife and fork scraping loudly on ceramic. The dinner plate was embossed with gold—black borders engraved with delicate fleur de lis—and I felt like a slob for using it, though it was at Aslaug’s behest. It seemed more suited to filling tall glass display cases, like Fine China that was never eaten off of, but always treasured.

After a while, Ivar began disturbing the peace. “Listen to yourselves,” he said mockingly. “The food is going to go down my throat like nails if this is all we talk about the whole time. Mother, you’ve hardly said anything about yourself. How is the class?” He waved his fork.

Personally I couldn’t see how it could be anything but excessively delicious: with the golden-brown roasted potatoes, steaming green vegetables and slices of lamb drizzled with the gravy, it felt like Christmas.

I’d eaten a brussel sprout too quickly and a hot lump was struggling down my oesophagus as I listened in.

“Well,” Aslaug pressed a well-groomed hand to her chest like she had heartburn. Evidently with her favourite child, she had infinite patience. “It’s really not that exciting, it just gives me something to do. Helga’s much better at it than I am,” she said modestly.

“I’d love to hear about it,” I said. Though struggling with the brussel sprout pain, I was now enjoying thinking of swiftly spinning potter’s wheels. “It sounds interesting.”

“Yes, exactly,” said Ivar, endearingly invested.

Aslaug turned her piercing eyes on me, curious. Thora made sounds of enthusiasm, keeping a hand over her lips as she nodded and chewed her food.

I fired on. “Is it a hard hobby to keep up?”

“Not really,” she said, and after a moment went on: “Like most crafts, I suppose it takes practice. And time. I’ve been doing it for several years now.”

“Will you show us? I get pictures, but eh…” Ivar looked genuinely eager to see his mother’s work. I understand that they were always close, if sometimes at odds.

“Yeah,” said Hvitserk. “I haven’t seen any of them.”

For a moment she looked taken aback, and hesitated, as if deciding if it would be appropriate for her to leave her guests. “Excuse me, I’ll just go and find it.”

Aslaug’s heels echoed impressively on the oaken floorboards, which were polished to a fine sheen. We were now left without our hostess to wrangle us.

“So, Jasmine, are you in university?” Thora asked.

At this, I perked up. “Yes. English Literature, and I take a few other courses. And I guess you’re in too?”

“Mhm, I do Fine Art.”

“What’s it like? I’ve always been curious, but I don’t know anyone who majors in art. Not right now anyway.”

“Basically like how you’d expect. I spend a lot of time in a studio, I guess. A while ago I was nosing about in the city trying to find inspiration to help with my personal portfolio, and, well,” Thora rested her head briefly on Hvitserk’s shoulder. “That’s how I met this guy.”

“This guy? Ow.”

She laughed and told me, “Shared interests.”

Hvitserk laughed too, poking her with his fork in a way I deemed affectionate. “We’re in the same boat.” I smiled at them clumsily, unsure of how to phrase it.

Ivar made an amused noise. “Jasmine here has the dubious honour of minoring in Norse studies.” Not hesitating, he brushed his knuckles over my cheek. I knew he loved that course—didn’t love the people in it. “Very bright little student, aren’t you sweet?”

“I think I have an unfair advantage,” I said bashfully, finding his touch pleasing despite my embarrassment.

Ivar snorted with derision. “Not that you need it, what with a class average like that.” He stretched out in his high-backed chair, and then went back to eating.

His older sibling was looking between us with increasing awareness. Somehow the fact that I knew our relationship was inappropriate hadn’t been on my list of concerns until now. But it was probably good to rip the band-aid quickly, since I didn’t intend to let it stop me and obviously neither did Ivar.

“I’m happy for you,” Hvitserk said in an Ubbe-like way.

“Cheers,” Ivar said, grinning and raising his glass.

The tapping of high heels was heard once more as Aslaug strode back in. Ivar gulped down his drink.

“This one is very recent.” She was holding a mottled clay pot, vaguely shaped like an amphora, and she set it down gently on the table beside her plate. “I wanted to paint it first, but was thinking of maybe putting some flowers into it. Artificial ones, so they won’t wilt.”

Ivar squinted at it, leaning forward slightly. “You know, that looks just like the one we broke ten years ago.”

“No, it was longer ago than that,” said Hvitserk. Ivar’s head snapped back quickly to look at him. “Thirteen—fourteen. I was pushing you in the cart, hit that sharp turn by the living room. Happened there.”

“Oh, it was eternally a pain to clean up after you boys.” Aslaug sounded distantly cross, as if the memory still vexed her. “Shards everywhere, all over the floor.”

“I like the shape of it,” said Thora tactfully.

“It’s really pretty.” I also complimented, observing the pot with its smooth, shiny surface like a spotted seal’s hide.

“Beautiful shape, though it wasn’t very neat,” agreed Aslaug, stroking it. “But I’ll have this one done up more tastefully. Anyway, I’m distracting you all from eating.” She nonetheless seemed to be proud of her work, and to my eyes, was slightly flushed at the attention.

Loud chewing and plate scraping resumed. I chatted more with Thora, who was enduringly friendly, throughout most of the meal. Ivar and I would occasionally lean close to exchange furtive whispers as he pointed out things I hadn’t noticed before; the orange juice stain on the tablecloth, the slightly crooked painting, the peel of the wallpaper.

Our fingers would join together under the table. He also liked to flaunt them in full view, smirking pridefully. Something warm filled my belly, so I drank more water.

After eating, we all set up in the living room. This place was far cosier—not to disparage the rest of the house, which was tastefully furnished. But here, it was much easier to relax. One of those electric fire lights flamed red in the grate, and the settee was piled with tasselled suede cushions. Laughing, I sank into it, more interested in our steadily improving dialogue. Somewhere along the way, I accepted a taste of sherry and a slice of plated pavlova. The sugary sweetness of the crust melted on my tongue, and I let Ivar steal a green grape off of it. He popped it in his mouth.

Both a long time and no time at all had passed by the time we’d finished up. Aslaug pressed her fingers to her temple as if she had a migraine. Ivar urged her in a gentle voice to dismiss us, so when she smiled at us this time the skin of her eyes crinkled tenderly.

As a guest I followed Ivar through a doorway. The bedroom was cloaked in black-and-navy and held the fond air of being preserved for return migration. There by a tall oak wardrobe, I dropped a canvas bag that held a change of clothing and a toothbrush. I would’ve never realised it was half-past-twelve were it not for the glittering of a digital alarm clock on an end table.

Ivar found his chair by the desk and let his crutch fall by the wayside. “Sit here a minute.” He beckoned me to him, and I padded across the soft carpet. The heat of Ivar’s palms warmed my legs through denim. “There. That’s better… Being on me where you should be.”

“I feel like I could be silent for the rest of the night.” Sighing deeply, I threw both my arms around his neck.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Just means I get to talk more.”

“You would anyway,” I said, and before he could open his mouth to retort I blurted out a confession of sherry, “Do you think your mom likes me? I couldn’t tell.”

His double take alleviated my concern before he even opened his mouth “Of course. We got to talking earlier, mother said she was glad I found someone who’s nice and actually sensible… Which you are.” He snorted. “Put it this way, she has no reason to dislike you.”

“I was only… Unsure if I would be considered suitable.”

“Nonsense,” Ivar said. “She’s always on my case to get settled down. If anything, you’ve made her very happy.”

Bubbles of my silliness popped harmlessly, and in the dim lamplight I wondered if he knew how desperately I’d like to kiss him. “That’s good. I’m really glad.”

I toyed with the moon pendant on my necklace. She was peering through ash grey curtains, silvery rays bouncing off of laden bookshelves. Glossy hardbacks jumped out at me, and I hoped in the morning after a slice of buttered toast, I’d be able to slide one out curiously and ask after it, just a little. Warmed, we’d talk and laugh, spread out in a tangle of belongings on various soft surfaces, like we did in his apartment.

“Relax. You worry too much. And you don’t need to.” Ivar squeezed me. “My mother’s easy to please, not like me. With brothers like mine, it’s a necessity.”

She did appear to have a lot of patience. “I thought Hvitserk was alright,” I said, grinning behind my hand.

“Only because you don’t know him like I do. And you should know by now that my opinion is the only one that matters,” he finished haughtily.

I suspected this was not wholly true, but Ivar was very wilful. Even by relinquishing a book to me on that fateful day, he’d gotten his way.

The rush of desire to kiss him overwhelmed me now. By his noise of pleasant surprise, I could tell he really didn’t know of it, that I would have to communicate it very thoroughly to him. There In his arms I found a casual welcoming, precious for its thoughtlessness.

I knew then any rejection was self-imagined. So I eased, and thought of comfort. “It’s feeling stuffy in here. Mind if I open the window just a crack?”

Ivar stroked my knee, distracted. “Not by too much.”

It was a mild Autumn evening. Tugging at the curtains, I reached up and pressed the lever down. From the gap a light breeze floated in, carrying a hint of spice. The room was ground level, and in the back garden a lone tree threw itself up in a sprawl of limbs.

Embraces resumed with sighs on our lips. Twisted boughs shivered in the wind; in the dark the leaves gleamed yellow and green, like sly cat’s eyes.

Dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[pjackk]

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[agnar-the-unhinged]

Tell them a little about yourself you goober.

Drop some lore for the people

Ima just do it with emojis and they can decipher the mean.

🦟🤬

🎣

🐈👎

🦌🏹

🌄❤️

💻🎮

🇨🇦

2️⃣6️⃣

⛏️

🔝

🐺

🦬⛰️🌉♾️🪢👧🐋🎺🍁🪵🚶‍♂️🎒🥾

😱🍆💦

🍣

🪨

🎯⬅️🔫

[crazylittlejester]

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stay sigma!

DID YOU JUST SEND ME EVERY SINGLE EMOJI IN ORDER IM FUCKING CRYING OH MY GOD

i DID post mandarin wars anons fic!! well… the first chapter at least 😭 I REALLY HOPE THEY’RE ABLE TO SEE IT

and i’ll get to yours at some point don’t worry man, it just may not be a while i have school starting up soon (boooo)

[my-castles-crumbling]

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This my favorite <3

[truesolobg]

⛏️Sub Terra

🪖Solo play

🪢The first time I played this game I misunderstood the rules and gave this a second try. The gameplay was really good after playing this game correctly. I had to split up my characters and got really lucky with the horrors spawning late-game. This game is fun as the tension builds and the quick decisions you corner yourself into. The base game is great and there are plenty of characters to play with. I am looking to get the expansions to open up that variability and modes in the game. Replaying this game with other characters will be the main draw for me until expansions arrive but it’s a pretty good game without much complexity. The rules can be fiddly as you have to remember what happens with icons and actions. If you can grab this game I highly recommend it as a light-medium tile placement game.

Have you fallen in to a cave full of horrors too or is this too oddly specific?

[wilted]

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[fighter-paladin]

Fuck it. Every emoji

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[theevilicecreamsoda]

All emoki in the world 😀😃😄😁😆😅😂🤣😭😉😗😙😚😘🥰😍🤩🥳🫠🙃🙂🥲🥹😊☺️😌😏😴😪🤤😋😛😝😜🤪🥴😔🥺😬🫥😑😐😶😶‍🌫️🤐🫡🤔🤫🫢🤭🥱🤗🫣😱🤨🧐😒🙄😮‍💨😤😠😡🤬😞😓😟😥😢☹️🙁🫤😕😰😨😧😦😮😯😲😳🤯😖😣😩😫😵😵‍💫🫨🥶🥵🤢🤮🤧🤒🤕😷🤥😇🤠🤑🤓😎🥸🤡😈👿👻🎃💩🤖👽👾🌛🌜🌚🌝🌞☠️👹👺🔥💯💫⭐🌟✨💥💨💦💤🕳️🎉🙈🙉🙊😺😸😹😻😼😽🙀😿😾❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🤎🖤🩶🤍🩷💘💝💖💗💓💞💕💌💟♥️❣️❤️‍🩹💔❤️‍🔥💋🫂👥👤🗣️👣🧠🫀🫁🩸🦠🦷🦴💀👀👁️👄🫦👅👃👂🦻🦶🦵🦿🦾💪👏👍👎🫶🙌👐🤲🤝🤜🤛✊👊🫳🫴🫱🫲🫸🫷👋🤚🖐️✋🖖🤟🤘✌️🤞🫰🤙🤌🤏👌🫵👉👈☝️👆👇🖕✍️🤳🙏💅🙇🙋💁🙆🙅🤷🤦🙍🙎🧏💆💇🧖🛀🛌🧘🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦼🧑‍🦽🧎🧍🚶🏃🤸🏋️⛹️🤾🚴🚵🧗🤼🤹🏌️🏇🤺⛷️🏂🪂🏄🚣🏊🤽🧜🧚🧞🧝🧙🧛🧟🧌🦸🦹🥷🧑‍🎄👼💂🫅🤵👰🧑‍🚀👷👮🕵️🧑‍✈️🧑‍🔬🧑‍⚕️🧑‍🔧🧑‍🏭🧑‍🚒🧑‍🌾🧑‍🏫🧑‍🎓🧑‍💼🧑‍⚖️🧑‍💻🧑‍🎤🧑‍🎨🧑‍🍳👳🧕👲👶🧒👦👧🧑👩👨🧓👵👴🧑‍🦳🧑‍🦰👱🧑‍🦱👨‍🦲🧔🕴️💃🕺👯🧑‍🤝‍🧑👭👬👫💏👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💑👩‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👩🫄🤱🧑‍🍼👨‍👩‍👧‍👦💐🌹🥀🌺🌷🪷🌸💮🏵️🪻🌻🌼🍂🍁🍄🌾🌱🌿🍃☘️🍀🪴🌵🌴🌳🌲🪵🪹🪺🪨⛰️🏔️❄️☃️⛄🌫️🌡️🔥🌋🏜️🏞️🏝️🏖️🌅🌄🌈🫧🌊🌬️🌀🌪️⚡☔💧🌧️🌩️⛈️🌨️☁️🌦️🌥️⛅🌤️☀️🌞🌝🌚🌜🌛⭐🌟✨💫🌙☄️🕳️🌠🌌🌍🌎🌏🪐🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🙈🙉🙊🐵🦁🐯🐱🐶🐺🐻🐻‍❄️🐨🐼🐹🐭🐰🦊🦝🐮🐷🐽🐗🦓🦄🐴🫎🐲🦎🐉🦖🦕🐢🐊🐍🐸🐇🐁🐀🐈🐈‍⬛🐩🐕🦮🐕‍🦺🐖🐎🫏🐄🐂🐃🦬🐏🐑🐐🦌🦙🦥🦘🐘🦣🦏🦛🦒🐆🐅🐒🦍🦧🐪🐫🐿️🦫🦨🦡🦔🦦🦇🪽🪶🐦🐦‍⬛🐓🐔🐣🐤🐥🦅🦉🦜🕊️🦤🦢🦆🪿🦩🦚🦃🐧🦭🦈🐬🐋🐳🐟🐠🐡🦐🦞🦀🦑🐙🪼🦪🪸🦂🕷️🕸️🐚🐌🐜🦗🪲🦟🪳🪰🐝🐞🦋🐛🪱🦠🐾🍓🍒🍎🍉🍑🍊🥭🍍🍌🍋🍈🍏🍐🥝🫒🫐🍇🥥🍅🌶️🫚🥕🍠🧅🌽🥦🥒🥬🫛🫑🥑🍆🧄🥔🫘🌰🥜🍞🫓🥐🥖🥯🧇🥞🍳🥚🧀🥓🥩🍗🍖🍔🌭🥪🥨🍟🍕🫔🌮🌯🥙🧆🥘🍝🥫🫕🥣🥗🍲🍛🍜🍣🍤🥡🍚🍱🥟🍢🍙🍘🍥🍡🥠🥮🍧🍨🍦🥧🍰🍮🎂🧁🍭🍬🍫🍩🍪🍯🧂🧈🍿🧊🫙🥤🧋🧃🥛🍼🍵☕🫖🧉🍺🍻🥂🍾🍷🥃🫗🍸🍹🍶🥢🍴🥄🔪🍽️🛑🚧🚨⛽🛢️🧭🛞🛟⚓🚏🚇🚥🚦🛴🦽🦼🩼🚲🛵🏍️🚙🚗🛻🚐🚚🚛🚜🏎️🚒🚑🚓🚕🛺🚌🚈🚝🚅🚄🚂🚃🚋🚎🚞🚊🚉🚍🚔🚘🚖🚆🚢🛳️🛥️🚤⛴️⛵🛶🚟🚠🚡🚁🛸🚀✈️🛫🛬🛩️🛝🎢🎡🎠🎪🗼🗽🗿🗻🏛️💈⛲⛩️🕍🕌🕋🛕⛪💒🏩🏯🏰🏗️🏢🏭🏬🏪🏟️🏦🏫🏨🏣🏤🏥🏚️🏠🏡🏘️🛖⛺🏕️⛱️🏙️🌆🌇🌃🌉🌁🛤️🛣️🗾🗺️🌐💺🧳🎉🎊🎈🎂🎀🎁🎇🎆🧨🧧🪔🪅🪩🎐🎏🎎🎑🎍🎋🎄🎃🎗️🥇🥈🥉🏅🎖️🏆📢⚽⚾🥎🏀🏐🏈🏉🥅🎾🏸🥍🏏🏑🏒🥌🛷🎿⛸️🛼🩰🛹⛳🎯🏹🥏🪃🪁🎣🤿🩱🎽🥋🥊🎱🏓🎳♟️🪀🧩🎮🕹️👾🔫🎲🎰🎴🀄🃏🪄🎩📷🖼️🎨🖌️🖍️🪡🧵🧶🎹🎷🎺🎸🪕🎻🪘🥁🪇🪈🪗🎤🎧🎚️🎛️🎙️📻📺📼📹📽️🎥🎞️🎬🎭🎫🎟️📱☎️📞📟📠🔌🔋🪫🖲️💽💾💿📀🖥️💻⌨️🖨️🖱️🪙💸💵💴💶💷💳💰🧾🧮⚖️🛒🛍️🕯️💡🔦🏮🧱🪟🪞🚪🪑🛏️🛋️🚿🛁🚽🧻🪠🧸🪆🧷🪢🧹🧴🧽🧼🪥🪒🪮🧺🧦🧤🧣👖👕🎽👚👔👗👘🥻🩱👙🩳🩲🧥🥼🦺⛑️🪖🎓🎩👒🧢👑🪭🎒👝👛👜💼🧳☂️🌂💍💎💄👠👟👞🥿🩴👡👢🥾🦯🕶️👓🥽⚗️🧫🧪🌡️💉💊🩹🩺🩻🧬🔭🔬📡🛰️🧯🪓🪜🪣🪝🧲🧰🗜️🔩🪛🪚🔧🔨⚒️🛠️⛏️⚙️🔗⛓️📎🖇️📏📐🖌️🖍️🖊️🖋️✒️✏️📝📖📚📒📔📕📓📗📘📙🔖🗒️📄📃📋📑📂📁🗂️🗃️🗄️📊📈📉📇🪪📌📍✂️🗑️📰🗞️🏷️📦📫📪📬📭📮✉️📧📩📨💌📤📥🗳️🕛🕧🕐🕜🕑🕝🕒🕞🕓🕟🕔🕠🕕🕡🕖🕢🕗🕣🕘🕤🕙🕥🕚🕦⏱️⌚🕰️⌛⏳⏲️⏰📅📆🗓️🪧🛎️🔔📯📢📣🔍🔎🔮🧿🪬📿🏺⚱️⚰️🪦🚬💣🪤📜⚔️🗡️🛡️🗝️🔑🔐🔏🔒🔓🔴🟠🟡🟢🔵🟣🟤⚫⚪🟥🟧🟨🟩🟦🟪🟫⬛⬜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍🩷🩵🩶♥️♦️♣️♠️♈♉♊♋♌♍♎♏♐♑♒♓⛎♀️♂️⚧️💭🗯️💬🗨️❕❗❔❓⁉️‼️⭕❌🚫🚳🚭🚯🚱🚷📵🔞🔕🔇🅰️🆎🅱️🅾️🆑🆘🛑⛔📛♨️💢🔻🔺🉐㊙️㊗️🈴🈵🈹🈲🉑🈶🈚🈸🈺🈷️✴️🔶🔸🔆🔅🆚🎦📶🔁🔂🔀▶️⏩⏭️⏯️◀️⏪⏮️🔼⏫🔽⏬⏸️⏹️⏺️⏏️📴🛜📳📲🔈🔉🔊🎼🎵🎶☢️☣️⚠️🚸⚜️🔱〽️🔰✳️❇️♻️💱💲💹🈯❎✅✔️☑️⬆️↗️➡️↘️⬇️↙️⬅️↖️↕️↔️↩️↪️⤴️⤵️🔃🔄🔙🔛🔝🔚🔜🆕🆓🆙🆗🆒🆖ℹ️🅿️🈁🈂️🈳🔣🔤🔠🔡🔢#️⃣*️⃣0️⃣1️⃣2️⃣3️⃣4️⃣5️⃣6️⃣7️⃣8️⃣9️⃣🔟💠🔷🔹🌐🏧Ⓜ️🚾🚻🚹🚺♿🚼🛗🚮🚰🛂🛃🛄🛅💟⚛️🛐🕉️☸️☮️☯️☪️🪯✝️☦️✡️🔯🕎♾️🆔⚕️✖️➕➖➗🟰➰➿〰️©️®️™️🔘🔳◼️◾▪️🔲◻️◽▫️👁️‍🗨️🏁🚩🎌🏴🏳️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏴‍☠️🇦🇨🇦🇩🇦🇪🇦🇫🇦🇬🇦🇮🇦🇱🇦🇲🇦🇴🇦🇶🇦🇷🇦🇸🇦🇹🇦🇺🇦🇼🇦🇽🇦🇿🇧🇦🇧🇧🇧🇩🇧🇪🇧🇫🇧🇬🇧🇭🇧🇮🇧🇯🇧🇱🇧🇲🇧🇳🇧🇴🇧🇶🇧🇷🇧🇸🇧🇹🇧🇻🇧🇼🇧🇾🇧🇿🇨🇦🇨🇨🇨🇩🇨🇫🇨🇬🇨🇭🇨🇮🇨🇰🇨🇱🇨🇲🇨🇳🇨🇴🇨🇵🇨🇷🇨🇺🇨🇻🇨🇼🇨🇽🇨🇾🇨🇿🇩🇪🇩🇬🇩🇯🇩🇰🇩🇲🇩🇴🇩🇿🇪🇦🇪🇨🇪🇪🇪🇬🇪🇭🇪🇷🇪🇸🇪🇹🇪🇺🇫🇮🇫🇯🇫🇰🇫🇲🇫🇴🇫🇷🇬🇦🇬🇧🇬🇩🇬🇪🇬🇫🇬🇬🇬🇭🇬🇮🇬🇱🇬🇲🇬🇳🇬🇵🇬🇶🇬🇷🇬🇸🇬🇹🇬🇺🇬🇼🇬🇾🇭🇰🇭🇲🇭🇳🇭🇷🇭🇹🇭🇺🇮🇨🇮🇩🇮🇪🇮🇱🇮🇲🇮🇳🇮🇴🇮🇶🇮🇷🇮🇸🇮🇹🇯🇪🇯🇲🇯🇴🇯🇵🇰🇪🇰🇬🇰🇭🇰🇮🇰🇲🇰🇳🇰🇵🇰🇷🇰🇼🇰🇾🇰🇿🇱🇦🇱🇧🇱🇨🇱🇮🇱🇰🇱🇷🇱🇸🇱🇹🇱🇺🇱🇻🇱🇾🇲🇦🇲🇨🇲🇩🇲🇪🇲🇫🇲🇬🇲🇭🇲🇰🇲🇱🇲🇲🇲🇳🇲🇴🇲🇵🇲🇶🇲🇷🇲🇸🇲🇹🇲🇺🇲🇻🇲🇼🇲🇽🇲🇾🇲🇿🇳🇦🇳🇨🇳🇪🇳🇫🇳🇬🇳🇮🇳🇱🇳🇴🇳🇵🇳🇷🇳🇺🇳🇿🇴🇲🇵🇦🇵🇪🇵🇫🇵🇬🇵🇭🇵🇰🇵🇱🇵🇲🇵🇳🇵🇷🇵🇸🇵🇹🇵🇼🇵🇾🇶🇦🇷🇪🇷🇴🇷🇸🇷🇺🇷🇼🇸🇦🇸🇧🇸🇨🇸🇩🇸🇪🇸🇬🇸🇭🇸🇮🇸🇯🇸🇰🇸🇱🇸🇲🇸🇳🇸🇴🇸🇷🇸🇸🇸🇹🇸🇻🇸🇽🇸🇾🇸🇿🇹🇦🇹🇨🇹🇩🇹🇫🇹🇬🇹🇭🇹🇯🇹🇰🇹🇱🇹🇲🇹🇳🇹🇴🇹🇷🇹🇹🇹🇻🇹🇼🇹🇿🇺🇦🇺🇬🇺🇲🇺🇳🇺🇾🇺🇿🇻🇦🇻🇨🇻🇪🇻🇬🇻🇮🇻🇳🇻🇺🇼🇫🇼🇸🇽🇰🇾🇪🇾🇹🇿🇦🇿🇲🇿🇼🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

Woagh

[self-shipping-doll13]

Thrall Drabble

Wc: 543

Tw: Lightly Suggestive

Helgi felt a wave of unease wash over him every time he entered the king’s private chambers.

Lagertha had been a just queen and a fair master, if any master could be thought of as such. Hedeby, with its wide open plains and grassy knolls, was vastly different compared to the spiced, brackish air of Kattegat. But a horse did not care to fuss over the grass it grazed upon, provided it was sufficiently green, and Helgi felt much the same in that regard.

Of course, Lagertha had fled in wake of her defeat at Broken Tooth. As a spoil of war, Helgi belonged to a new household. Ivar Ragnarsson was his master now.

Balancing a wooden tray in his hands, Helgi moved through the dimly lit room with the practised efficiency of the long enslaved. The dining table, suspended by four iron chains, creaked precariously as he set about arranging it. Bowls of steaming broth, hefty chunks of freshly baked bread and a jug of water—a hearty supper that set his empty tummy to rumbling.

The charred remnants of a fire smouldered in the grand hearth. Helgi saw the previous slave had neglected it, and grumbled to himself. Slacking off could always result in a broken rib or jaw; punishments had grown increasingly violent these last few days.

Then, as he bent down to add more logs, a noise caught his attention—the rustle of sheets and the low murmur of satisfied voices. His gaze was drawn inexorably towards the imposing bed, its frame crafted from rich, dark wood and piled high with bear furs.

Ivar lay on his back, his arms wrapped possessively around a naked Dagny. She traced intricate patterns on his chest, whispering to him in hushed, sultry tones. A single pale leg was draped over the king’s waist, a hint of wetness shining on her inner thigh.

A knowing smile ghosted on her lips as her bright gaze met Helgi’s, leaving the thrall with the prickling sensation of being seen beyond the mortal flesh.

Helgi cast down his eyes, careful not to linger on the nude form of the queen. Witnessing acts of intimacy had long since ceased to shame him, but he did not wish to draw the ire of her husband. Dagny was unperturbed by her vulnerability, stretching out languidly on the pelts and yawning like a cat.

“You may want to bring more ale,” she called out softly to Helgi. “It’s a little chilly after being so hot.”

Helgi mumbled a quiet obeisance, and turned his attention back to tending the spitting flames of a rekindled fire, coaxing up the glowing embers.

Ivar threw dark furs over his wife, covering her. “Hurry up, slave,” he flicked his wrist dismissively. “Time only works in our favour if you don’t linger.” He tucked Dagny closer, and in a teasing whisper just loud enough for Helgi to hear: “Only we get to enjoy that.”

“Yes, master.” Helgi swiftly discarded the poker.

Time and time again, he’d asked himself why he had not fled Kattegat in the confusion of battle, with an escape plan ripe.

If only to avoid such disturbing sights.

High, feminine laughter rang out piercingly behind him. Sighing, the weary old thrall left to fetch the ale.

Dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[dem0n-slay0r]

Demon Salyer account for @lavenderpieslice

I reblog my art and other art here as well as writings and headcanons

Ship friendly au friendly

Emojis for the characters

🎴 Tanjiro

🎀 Nezuko

⚡️ Zenitsu

🐗 Inosuke

🪙 Kanao

🍉 Genya

🧹 Senjuro

🍵 Aoi

🌫️ Muichiro

☁️ Yuichiro

🔥 Kyojuro

🍶 Shinjuro

🎐 Ruka

💎 Tengen

🌶️ Makio

💧 Suma

🌸 Hinatsuru

🦋Shinobu

🌺 Kanae

🍡Mitsuri

🐍 Obanai

🍃 Sanemi

🔪 Kyogo

👘 Shizu

🌊 Giyuu

🪢 Sabito

👺 Urokodaki

📿 Gyomei

🩸 Muzan

🌙 Kokushibo/Michikatsu

☀️ Yoriichi

🌈 Douma

❄️ Akaza/Hakiju

👹 Hantengu

💢 Sekido

🌿 Karaku

💦 Aizetsu

��� Urogi

🐉 Zohakuten

🏺 Gyokko

🍑 Kaigaku

⛏️ Gyutaro

👙 Daki/Ume

[emoji-completionist]

omg a gimmick blog 0-0

they/them

i count how many emojis were used in a post (out of apple emojis bc thats what ive got 👍)

#emoji counting = counting emojis in posts/asks

#not emoji counting = anything else

#reblog = reblogs (shocker /s)

#oo aa that's my favorite asks = asks

#tw nsft = nsfw posts (anything ab sex or sex words)

if u want me to not reblog ur post lmk and ill take it down

im not considering skin tone variations (ex. 👍👍🏻👍🏼👍🏽👍🏾👍🏿 would all only count as 1 👍)

under the cut are all of the emojis i'm counting(1,865 total):

😀😃😄😁😆🥹😅😂🤣🥲☺️😊😇🙂🙃😉😌😍🥰😘😗😙😚😋😛😝😜🤪🤨🧐🤓😎🥸🤩🥳🙂🙂‍↕️😏😒🙂‍↔️😞😔😟😕🙁☹️😣😖😫😩🥺😢😭😤😠😡🤬🤯😳🥵🥶😶‍🌫️😱😨😰😥😓🤗🤔🫣🤭🫢🫡🤫🫠🤥😶🫥😐🫤😑😬🙄😯😦😧😮😲🥱😴🤤😪😮‍💨😵😵‍💫🤐🥴🤢🤮🤧😷🤒🤕🤑🤠😈👿👹👺🤡💩👻💀☠️👽👾🤖🎃😺😸😹😻😼😽🙀😿😾🫶🤲👐🙌👏🤝👍👎👊✊🤛🤜🤞✌️🫰🤟🤘👌🤌🤏🫳🫴👈👆👇☝️✋🤚🖐️🖖👋🤙🫲🫱💪🦾🖕✍️🙏🫵🦶🦵🦿💄💋👄🫦🦷👅👂🦻👃👣👁️👀🫀🫁🧠🗣️👤👥🫂👶👧🧒👦👩🧑👨👩‍🦱🧑‍🦱👩‍🦰🧑‍🦰👨‍🦰👱‍♀️👱👱‍♂️👩‍🦳🧑‍🦳👨‍🦳👩‍🦲🧑‍🦲👨‍🦲🧔‍♀️🧔🧔‍♂️👵🧓👴👲👳‍♀️👳👳‍♂️🧕👮‍♀️👮👮‍♂️👷‍♀️👷👷‍♂️💂‍♀️💂💂‍♂️🕵️🕵️🕵️👩‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️👨‍⚕️👩‍🌾🧑‍🌾👨‍🌾👩‍🍳🧑‍🍳👨‍🍳👩‍🎓🧑‍🎓👨‍🎓👩‍🎤🧑‍🎤👨‍🎤👩‍🏫🧑‍🏫👨‍🏫👩‍🏭🧑‍🏭👨‍🏭👩‍💻🧑‍💻👨‍💻👩‍💼🧑‍💼👨‍💼👩‍🔧🧑‍🔧👨‍🔧👩‍🔬🧑‍🔬👨‍🔬👩‍🎨🧑‍🎨👨‍🎨👩‍🚒🧑‍🚒👨‍🚒👩‍✈️🧑‍✈️👨‍✈️👩‍🚀🧑‍🚀👨‍🚀👩‍⚖️🧑‍⚖️👨‍⚖️👰‍♀️👰👰‍♂️🤵‍♀️🤵🤵‍♂️👸🫅🤴🥷🦸‍♀️🦸🦸‍♂️🦹‍♀️🦹🦹‍♂️🤶🧑‍🎄🎅🧙‍♀️🧙🧙‍♂️🧝‍♀️🧝🧝‍♂️🧌🧛‍♀️🧛🧛‍♂️🧟‍♀️🧟🧟‍♂️🧞‍♀️🧞🧞‍♂️🧜‍♀️🧜🧜‍♂️🧚‍♀️🧚🧚‍♂️👼🤰🫄🫃🤱👩‍🍼🧑‍🍼👨‍🍼🙇‍♀️🙇🙇‍♂️💁‍♀️💁💁‍♂️🙅‍♀️🙅🙅‍♂️🙆‍♀️🙆🙆‍♂️🙋‍♀️🙋🙋‍♂️🧏‍♀️🧏🧏‍♂️🤦‍♀️🤦🤦‍♂️🤷‍♀️🤷🤷‍♂️🙎‍♀️🙎🙎‍♂️🙍‍♀️🙍🙍‍♂️💇‍♀️💇💇‍♂️💆‍♀️💆💆‍♂️🧖‍♀️🧖🧖‍♂️💅🤳💃🕺👯‍♀️👯👯‍♂️🕴️👩‍🦽🧑‍🦽👨‍🦽👩‍🦼🧑‍🦼👨‍🦼🚶‍♀️🚶🚶‍♂️👩‍🦯🧑‍🦯👨‍🦯🧎‍♀️🧎🧎‍♂️🏃‍♀️🏃🏃‍♂️🧍‍♀️🧍🧍‍♂️👫👭👬👩‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👩💑👨‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💏👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍👩‍👦👨‍👩‍👧👨‍👩‍👧‍👦👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👨‍👩‍👧‍👧👩‍👩‍👦👩‍👩‍👧👩‍👩‍👧‍👦👩‍👩‍👦‍👦👩‍👩‍👧‍👧👨‍👨‍👦👨‍👨‍👧👨‍👨‍👧‍👦👨‍👨‍👦‍👦👨‍👨‍👧‍👧👩‍👦👩‍👧👩‍👧‍👦👩‍👦‍👦👩‍👧‍👧👨‍👦👨‍👧👨‍👧‍👦👨‍👦‍👦👨‍👧‍👧

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🇧🇾🇧🇪🇧🇿🇧🇯🇧🇲🇧🇹🇧🇴🇧🇦🇧🇼🇧🇷🇻🇬🇧🇳🇧🇬🇧🇫🇧🇮🇰🇭🇨🇲🇨🇦🇮🇨🇨🇻🇧🇶🇰🇾🇨🇫🇹🇩🇮🇴🇨🇱🇨🇳🇨🇽🇨🇨🇨🇴🇰🇲🇨🇬🇨🇩🇨🇰🇨🇷🇨🇮🇭🇷🇨🇺🇨🇼🇨🇾🇨🇿🇩🇰🇩🇯🇩🇲🇩🇴🇪🇨🇪🇬🇸🇻🇬🇶🇪🇷🇪🇪🇸🇿🇪🇹🇪🇺🇫🇰🇫🇴🇫🇯🇫🇮🇫🇷🇬🇫🇵🇫🇹🇫🇬🇦🇬🇲🇬🇪🇩🇪🇬🇭🇬🇮🇬🇷🇬🇱🇬🇩🇬🇵🇬🇺🇬🇹🇬🇬🇬🇳🇬🇼🇬🇾🇭🇹🇭🇳🇭🇰🇭🇺🇮🇸🇮🇳🇮🇩🇮🇷🇮🇶🇮🇪🇮🇲🇮🇱🇮🇹🇯🇲🇯🇵🎌🇯🇪🇯🇴🇰🇿🇰🇪🇰🇮🇽🇰🇰🇼🇰🇬🇱🇦🇱🇻🇱🇧🇱🇸🇱🇷🇱🇾🇱🇮🇱🇹🇱🇺🇲🇴🇲🇬🇲🇼🇲🇾🇲🇻🇲🇱🇲🇹🇲🇭🇲🇶🇲🇷🇲🇺🇾🇹🇲🇽🇫🇲🇲🇩🇲🇨🇲🇳🇲🇪🇲🇸🇲🇦🇲🇿🇲🇲🇳🇦🇳🇷🇳🇵🇳🇱🇳🇨🇳🇿🇳🇮🇳🇪🇳🇬🇳🇺🇳🇫🇰🇵🇲🇰🇲🇵🇳🇴🇴🇲🇵🇰🇵🇼🇵🇸🇳🇴🇴🇲🇵🇰🇵🇼🇵🇸🇵🇦🇵🇬🇵🇾🇵🇪🇵🇭🇵🇳🇵🇱🇵🇹🇵🇷🇶🇦🇷🇪🇷🇴🇷🇺🇷🇼🇼🇸🇸🇹🇸🇦🇸🇳🇷🇸🇸🇨🇸🇱🇸🇬🇸🇽🇸🇰🇸🇮🇬🇸🇸🇧🇸🇴🇿🇦🇰🇷🇸🇸🇪🇸🇱🇰🇧🇱🇸🇭🇰🇳🇱🇨🇵🇲🇻🇨🇸🇩🇸🇷🇸🇪🇨🇭🇸🇾🇹🇼🇹🇯🇹🇿🇹🇭🇹🇱🇹🇬🇹🇰🇹🇴🇹🇹🇹🇳🇹🇷🇹🇲🇹🇨🇹🇻🇻🇮🇺🇬🇺🇦🇦🇪🇬🇧🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿🇺🇸🇺🇾🇺🇿🇻🇺🇻🇦🇻🇪🇻🇳🇼🇫🇪🇭🇾🇪🇿🇲🇿🇼

[klausie]

emoji masterpost

smileys and emotions

😀😃😄😁😆😅😂🤣😭😉😗😙😚😘🥰😍🤩🥳🙃🙂🥲🥹😋😛😝😜🤪😇😊☺️😏😌😔😑😐😶🫡🤔🤫🫢🤭🥱🤗🫣😱🤨🧐😒🙄😮‍💨😤😠😡🤬🥺😟😥😢☹️🙁🫤😕🤐😰😨😧😦😮😯😲😳🤯😬😓😞😖😣😩😫😵😵‍💫🫥����😪🤤🌛🌜🌚🌝🌞🫠😶‍🌫️🥴🥵🥶🤢🤮🤧🤒🤕😷🤠🤑😎🤓🥸🤥🤡👻💩👽🤖🎃😈👿👹👺🔥💫⭐🌟✨💥💯💢💨💦🫧💤🕳️🎉🎊🙈🙉🙊😺😸😹😻😼😽🙀😿😾❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍♥️💘💝💖💗💓💞💕💌💟❣️❤️‍🩹💔❤️‍🔥💋🫂👥👤🗣️👣🧠🫀🫁🩸🦠🦷🦴☠️💀👀👁️👄🫦👅👃👂🦻🦶🦵🦿🦾💪👍👎👏🫶🙌👐🤲🤝🤜🤛✊👊🫳🫴🫱🫲🤚👋🖐️✋🖖🤟🤘✌️🤞🫰🤙🤌🤏👌🖕☝️👆👇👉👈🫵✍️🤳🙏💅

people

🙇🙋💁🙆🙅🤷🤦🙍🙎🧏💆💇🧖🛀🛌🧘🧑‍🦯🧑‍🦼🧑‍🦽🧎🧍🚶🏃🤸🏋️⛹️🤾🚴🚵🧗🤼🤹🏌️🏇🤺⛷️🏂🪂🏄🚣🏊🤽🧜🧚🧞🧝🧙🧛🧟🧌🦸🦹🥷🎅👼💂🫅🤵👰🧑‍🚀👷👮🕵️🧑‍✈️🧑‍🔬🧑‍⚕️🧑‍🔧🧑‍🏭🧑‍🚒🧑‍🌾🧑‍🏫🧑‍🎓🧑‍💼🧑‍⚖️🧑‍💻🧑‍🎤🧑‍🎨🧑‍🍳👳🧕👲👶🧒🧑🧓🧑‍🦳🧑‍🦰👱🧑‍🦱🧑‍🦲🧔🕴️💃🕺👯🧑‍🤝‍🧑👭👬👫💏👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💑👩‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍👨👩‍❤️‍👩🫃🤱🧑‍🍼👨‍👨‍👦

animals and nature

💐🌹🥀🌺🌷🪷🌸💮🏵️🌻🌼🍂🍁🍄🌾🌱🌿🍃☘️🍀🪴🌵🌴🌳🌲🪹🪺🪵🪨⛰️🏔️❄️☃️⛄🌊🫧🌬️🌀🌪️🌁🌫️🌡️🔥🌋🏜️🏞️🏖️⛱️🌅🌄☀️🌤️⛅🌥️🌦️☁️🌨️⛈️🌩️🌧️💧☔⚡🌈⭐🌟💫✨🌙☄️🌠🌌🪐🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌍🌎🌏🙈🙉🙊🐵🦁🐯🐱🐶🐺🐻🐻‍❄️🐨🐼🐹🐭🐰🦊🦝🐮🐷🐽🐗🦓🦄🐴🐸🐲🦎🐉🦖🦕🐢🐊🐍🐁🐀🐇🐈🐈‍⬛🐩🐕🦮🐕‍🦺🐅🐆🐎🐖🐄🐂🐃🦬🐏🐑🐐🦌🦙🦥🦘🐘🦣🦏🦛🦒🐒🦍🦧🐪🐫🐿️🦫🦨🦡🦔🦦🦇🪶🦅🦉🐓🐔🐣🐤🐥🐦🦜🕊️🦤🦢🦩🦚🦃🦆🐧🦭🦈🐬🐋🐳🐟🐠🐡🦐🦞🦀🦑🐙🦪🪸🦂🕷️🕸️🐚🐌🐜🦗🪲🦟🪳🪰🐝🐞🦋🐛🪱🦠🐾

food and drink

🍓🍒🍎🍉🍑🍊🥭🍍🍌🍋🍈🍏🍐🥝🫒🫐🍇🥥🍅🌶️🥕🍠🧅🌽🥦🥒🥬🫑🥑🍆🧄🥔🫘🌰🥜🍞🫓🥐🥖🥯🧇🥞🍳🥚🧀🥓🥩🍗🍖🍔🌭🥪🥨🍟🍕🫔🌮🌯🥙🧆🥘🍝🥫🫕🥣🥗🍲🍛🍜🦪🦞🍣🍤🥡🍚🍱🥟🍢🍙🍘🍥🍡🥠🥮🍧🍨🍦🥧🍰🍮🎂🧁🍭🍬🍫🍩🍪🍯🧂🧈🍿🧊🫙🥤🧋🧃🥛🍼🍵☕🫖🧉🍺🍻🥂🍾🍷🥃🫗🍸🍹🍶🥢🍴🥄🔪🍽️

travel and places

🛑🚧🚨⛽🛢️🧭🛞🛟⚓🚏🚇🚥🚦🛴🦽🦼🩼🚲🛵🏍️🚙🚗🛻🚐🚚🚛🚜🏎️🚒🚑🚓🚕🛺🚌🚈🚝🚅🚄🚂🚃🚋🚎🚞🚊🚉🚍🚔🚘🚖🚆🚢🛳️🛥️🚤⛴️⛵🛶🚟🚠🚡🚁🛸🚀✈️🛫🛬🛩️🛝🎢🎡🎠🎪🗼🗽🗿🗻🏛️💈⛲⛩️🕍🕌🕋🛕⛪💒🏩🏯🏰🏗️🏢🏭🏬🏪🏟️🏦🏫🏨🏣🏤🏥🏚️🏠🏡🏘️🛖⛺🏕️🏙️🌆🌇🌃🌉🌁🛤️🛣️🏝️🗾🗺️🌐💺🧳

activities and events

🎉🎊🎈🎂🎀🎁🎇🎆🧨🧧🪔🪅🪩🎐🎏🎎🎑🎍🎋🎄🎃🎗️🥇🥈🥉🏅🎖️🏆📢⚽⚾🥎🏀🏐🏈🏉🎾🥅🏸🥍🏏🏑🏒🥌🛷🎿⛸️🛼🩰🛹⛳🎯🏹🥏🪃🪁🎣🤿🩱🎽🥋🥊🎱🏓🎳♟️🪀🧩🎮🕹️👾🔫🎲🎰🎴🀄🃏🪄🎩📷📸🖼️🎨🖌️🖍️🪡🧵🧶🎹🎷🎺🎸🪕🎻🪘🥁🪗🎤🎧🎚️🎛️🎙️📻📺📼📹📽️🎥🎞️🎬🎭🎫🎟️

objects

📱☎️📞📟📠🔌🔋🪫🖲️💽💾💿📀🖥️💻⌨️🖨️🖱️🪙💸💵💴💶💷💳💰🧾🧮⚖️🛒🛍️🕯️💡🔦🏮🧱🪟🪞🚪🪑🛏️🛋️🚿🛁🚽🧻🪠🧸🪆🧷🪢🧹🧴🧽🧼🪥🪒🧺🧦🧤🧣👖👕🎽👚👔👗👘🥻🩱👙🩳🩲🧥🥼🦺⛑️🪖🎓🎩👒🧢👑🎒👝👛👜💼🧳☂️🌂💍💎💄👠👟👞🥿🩴👡👢🥾👓🕶️🦯🥽⚗️🧫🧪🌡️🧬💉💊🩹🩺🩻🔭🔬📡🛰️🧯🪓🪜🪣🪝🧲🧰🗜️🔩🪛🪚🔧🔨⚒️🛠️⛏️⚙️🔗⛓️📎🖇️📏📐✂️📌📍🗑️🖌️🖍️🖊️🖋️✒️✏️📝📒📔📕📓📗📘📙📚📖🔖🗒️📄📃📋📇📑🗃️🗄️🗂️📂📁📰🗞️📊📈📉🪧🪪🏷️📦📫📪📬📭📮✉️📧📩📨💌📤📥🗳️⏱️🕛🕧🕐🕜🕑🕝🕒🕞🕓🕟🕔🕠🕕🕡🕖🕢🕗🕣🕘🕤🕙🕥🕚🕦⌛⏳🕰️⌚⏲️⏰🗓️📅📆🛎️🔔📯📢📣🔍🔎🔮🧿🪬📿🏺⚱️⚰️🪦🚬💣🪤📜⚔️🗡️🛡️🗝️🔑🔐🔏🔒🔓

symbols

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍🔴🟠🟡🟢🔵🟣🟤⚫⚪🟥🟧🟨🟩🟦🟪🟫⬛⬜♈♉♊♋♌♍♎♏♐♑♒♓⛎♀️♂️⚧️🔻🔺❕❗❔❓⁉️‼️⭕❌🚫🚳🚭🚯🚱🚷📵🔞🔕🔇🅰️🆎🅱️🅾️🆑🆘🛑⛔📛♨️🉐㊙️㊗️🈴🈵🈹🈲🉑🈶🈚🈸🈺🈷️🔶🔸🔆🔅✴️🆚🎦📶🔁🔂🔀▶️⏩⏭️⏯️◀️⏪⏮️🔼⏫🔽⏬⏸️⏹️⏺️⏏️📴📳📲🔈🔉🔊🎼🎵🎶☢️☣️⚠️🚸⚜️🔱〽️🔰✳️❇️♻️💱💲💹🈯❎✅✔️☑️⬆️↗️➡️↘️⬇️↙️⬅️↖️↕️↔️↩️↪️⤴️⤵️🔃🔄🔙🔛🔝🔚🔜🆕🆓🆙🆗🆒🆖ℹ️🅿️🈁🈂️🈳🔣🔤🔠🔡🔢#️⃣*️⃣0️⃣1️⃣2️⃣3️⃣4️⃣5️⃣6️⃣7️⃣8️⃣9️⃣🔟💠🔷🔹🌐🏧Ⓜ️🚾🚻🚹🚺♿🚼🛗🚮🚰🛂🛃🛄🛅💟⚛️🛐🕉️☸️☮️☯️☪️✝️☦️✡️🔯🕎♾️🆔⚕️✖️➕➖➗🟰➰➿〰️©️®️™️♥️♦️♣️♠️🔘🔳◼️◾▪️🔲◻️◽▫️💭🗯️💬🗨️👁️‍🗨️

flags

🏁🚩🎌🏴🏳️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏴‍☠️🇦🇨🇦🇩🇦🇪🇦🇫🇦🇬🇦🇮🇦🇱🇦🇲🇦🇴🇦🇶🇦🇷🇦🇸🇦🇹🇦🇺🇦🇼🇦🇽🇦🇿🇧🇦🇧🇧🇧🇩🇧🇪🇧🇫🇧🇬🇧🇭🇧🇮🇧🇯🇧🇱🇧🇲🇧🇳🇧🇴🇧🇶🇧🇷🇧🇸🇧🇹🇧🇻🇧🇼🇧🇾🇧🇿🇨🇦🇨🇨🇨🇩🇨🇫🇨🇬🇨🇭🇨🇮🇨🇰🇨🇱🇨🇲🇨🇳🇨🇴🇨🇵🇨🇷🇨🇺🇨🇻🇨🇼🇨🇽🇨🇾🇨🇿🇩🇪🇩🇬🇩🇯🇩🇰🇩🇲🇩🇴🇩🇿🇪🇦🇪🇨🇪🇪🇪🇬🇪🇭🇪🇷🇪🇸🇪🇹🇪🇺🇫🇮🇫🇯🇫🇰🇫🇲🇫🇴🇫🇷🇬🇦🇬🇧🇬🇩🇬🇪🇬🇫🇬🇬🇬🇭🇬🇮🇬🇱🇬🇲🇬🇳🇬🇵🇬🇶🇬🇷🇬🇸🇬🇹🇬🇺🇬🇼🇬🇾🇭🇰🇭🇲🇭🇳🇭🇷🇭🇹🇭🇺🇮🇨🇮🇩🇮🇪🇮🇱🇮🇲🇮🇳🇮🇴🇮🇶🇮🇷🇮🇸🇮🇹🇯🇪🇯🇲🇯🇴🇯🇵🇰🇪🇰🇬🇰🇭🇰🇮🇰🇲🇰🇳🇰🇵🇰🇷🇰🇼🇰🇾🇰🇿🇱🇦🇱🇧🇱🇨🇱🇮🇱🇰🇱🇷🇱🇸🇱🇹🇱🇺🇱🇻🇱🇾🇲🇦🇲🇨🇲🇩🇲🇪🇲🇫🇲🇬🇲🇭🇲🇰🇲🇱🇲🇲🇲🇳🇲🇴🇲🇵🇲🇶🇲🇷🇲🇸🇲🇹🇲🇺🇲🇻🇲🇼🇲🇽🇲🇾🇲🇿🇳🇦🇳🇨🇳🇪🇳🇫🇳🇬🇳🇮🇳🇱🇳🇴🇳🇵🇳🇷🇳🇺🇳🇿🇴🇲🇵🇦🇵🇪🇵🇫🇵🇬🇵🇭🇵🇰🇵🇱🇵🇲🇵🇳🇵🇷🇵🇸🇵🇹🇵🇼🇵🇾🇶🇦🇷🇪🇷🇴🇷🇸🇷🇺🇷🇼🇸🇦🇸🇧🇸🇨🇸🇩🇸🇪🇸🇬🇸🇭🇸🇮🇸🇯🇸🇰🇸🇱🇸🇲🇸🇳🇸🇴🇸🇷🇸🇸🇸🇹🇸🇻🇸🇽🇸🇾🇸🇿🇹🇦🇹🇨🇹🇩🇹🇫🇹🇬🇹🇭🇹🇯🇹🇰🇹🇱🇹🇲🇹🇳🇹🇴🇹🇷🇹🇹🇹🇻🇹🇼🇹🇿🇺🇦🇺🇬🇺🇲🇺🇳🇺🇸🇺🇾🇺🇿🇻🇦🇻🇨🇻🇪🇻🇬🇻🇮🇻🇳🇻🇺🇼🇫🇼🇸🇽🇰🇾🇪🇾🇹🇿🇦🇿🇲🇿🇼🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿

[muckmagister]

ULTIMATE ATTACK: EVERYEMOJI SUPERBLAST!!!!!

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i feel like i've just been shown the position of every particle in the universe

[yikesmcdykes]

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Do you love the colour of the sky?

[dumbassboy]

🪢⛏️🕳