#rain (fom)

[televenus]

[phonyroni]

Sooo... I fell in love with Hayden. Bro he just appeared in my life and now I don't know what to do if I don't romance this man. Just keep talking pretty man, baby you are my ANGEL ❤️😙❤️

[nemurenaivoron]

this idea been stuck in my head for way too long (one week?)

[symliadoo]

4am fanart doodles

transcribed dialogue under cut!

March: "Why are you breathing the same air as me"

Rain:"It's a free country!"

March: "Last I checked, you were on OUR property."

Rain: "So you DO dye your hair!"

March: "It's not a secret. Olric probably told you already."

Rain: "Yeah— he told me the first Saturday I was here!"

March, flustered: "THEN WHAT WAS THE POINT"

Rain: "I wanted to see for myself! It looks cute!"

Rain: "I wonder what it would look like naturally."

March: "WELL KEEP DREAMING 'CAUSE YOU WILL NEVER KNOW!"

[nanowatzophina]

lol. So I’ve fixated on Fields of Mistria…

[asexual-levia-tan]

im having no luck catching the winter legendary fish😔 at this point im wondering if i should skip it and go for the only two pond and river fish i'm missing, which i'm assuming probably only come out while it's snowing

[karlachismylife]

Don't You Forget About Me

Since @killerpancakeburger already had the most perfect Soap idea with this prompt, I decided to sit and think: what would be the situation where Soap actually didn't wanna kiss? Mission imposible?

Well, I might've found the solution.

CW: reader is Soap's mother (literally), so (potentially bad) Scottish yelling and scolding, very silly and unserious, not even pretending to be realistic.

(Title fom a song by Simple Minds)

You were going to give him a piece of your mind alright. He had always been a troublemaker, the sole source of white and grey peppered in your respectable hairbun, but the bare minumum you expected from your eejit of a son was to take your words seriously when you asked not to go to that mission. That one mission, mind you, out of every crazy and dangerous endeavour your Johnny got up to since before he could walk properly (although he skipped the phase entirely, immediately opting to run) - you always supported him and tried to be understanding.

You flicked his nose when he came home dirty after playing football in the rain and prepared warm dinner while he cleaned himself and washed his own clothes like a good boy. You sighed and ruffled what was left of his hair the day he returned with that moronic haircut, beaming like the sun itself. You slapped upside his head and scolded him before pulling out his favourite out of the oven after he was kicked out from whatever military base he tried to sneak into to be like his cousin.

Johnny could call you strict, scary and warn all his mates of you with a shit-eating grin all he wanted, but you were sure you had never given him a reason to believe you would worry over nothing.

"Dinnae fash yersel, Mam," was all you got after a hearfelt and arguemented plea to stay away from trouble this time, along with a kiss on a cheek, and there he went.

Not so fast, John MacTavish.

Of course he got his stubborness and determination to get whatever he wanted from you. The amount of times he ran off before he was of age just to try his luck and get enlisted? The clenching of his proud Scottish jaw as he pushed himself to do better, lift heavier, shoot sharper, run faster? Once Johnny was set on something, he went all-in. Too bad sitting still and quiet in school never got to be one of his priorities even for a week. But that's how you raised him, and if anyone could match him, it was you.

You were suprised how easy it was to bully and bribe your way into the base. Just an unthreatening older woman with some home-cooked pie, already sliced up for the sweet, sweet boys at the entrance.

Och, yer Ma' usually bakes these too? 'N' wi' some carrot? Ye should ask her fur a recipe, leannan, Ah will lea' ye mines sae we can exchange. Ah actually hae mah laddie right there oan th' base, he's a sergeant, aye, mah muckle laddie. Ah wanted tae surprise him wi' his fave', bit didnae ken tis sae secreteve 'ere… Mibbie ye could pass it tae him? Och but it'll get cauld 'n' nasty… Och, ye will let me in fur a few minutes? Well aren't ye th' sweetest wee jimmies. Yer Mams must be proud o' ye, Ah ken Ah'm, knowing such mighty lads are protecting us.

Breaching the first line of defence was a piece of cake - well, pie. The second went even smoother, no one paying attention to you as you simply floated along the perimeter, avoiding miscellaneous looks from busy officers and privates bustling about their day. Hiding in plane sight, not even trying to blend in - you minced in your old trusty shoes up to the big area with several aircrafts scattered around.

Aha. That's your goal. You adjusted your purse on your shoulder and moved to continue your way, when someone finally noticed your unwanted presence.

"Is that a... who the hell let a civilian in the landing zone? Oi! M'am! M'am, stop! M'am, you're not supposed to be here!"

Hearing someone's heavy steps picking up behind your back, you kept your steady stride for a few more moments, eyes scanning the vast plane of the zone, determined to find at least someone you knew - and they you hit jackpot. Loud thumping of helicopter blades, distant at first, grew rapidly, almost deafening at the point when someone's heavy hand grabbed your elbow.

"M'am, are you lost? It's dangerous here! DAN-GE-ROUS!" The officer yelled into your ear, probably both hoping to overpower the landing helicopter and thinking you were old, frail and deaf.

Such a naive lad.

That metal bird barely stopped chirping before you wriggled out of the officer's grasp and sprinted towards several tall figures unloading from the helo. Your target stood straight, big headphones denting his ruffled mohawk, already up for a trimming. He definitely heard the officer's loud yelling, turned around, curious as ever, and locked eyes with you - all laughter wiped off his face immediately, baby blues he inherited from you round and popping out of their sockets.

"Mam?! Wha' are ye doin'-" - "JOHN MACTAVISH! Dinnae "mam" me, ye reckless bampot! Ah didnae raise ye tae be a sleekit potatoe waving yer own mother off!"

You jumped away from the officer who almost caught up with you and used your purse to shield yourself from him, never losing pale and positively terrified and dumbfounded Johnny out of sight.

"Get awa' from me, ye eejit, that's mah son 'n' Ah'm talking tae him! Look at me, Johnny!" You finally reached him and tilted your stern face up, glaring at yout sheepish son. His eyes stopped darting around and snapped directly at you. Still a good boy, after all. "Dae ye hae any idea how worried Ah was? Come 'ere now or Ah will drag ye by yer scruff, Ah swear. Come 'ere!"

You reached up to cup hus face, noticing a fresh bruise and a split brow, your motherly heart aching, but still proud that your wee boy came back from a dangerous operation alive. With teary eyes, you tried to pull him in for a big forgiving smooch, but he finally unfroze and pulled back, slowly starting to go red in his cheeks - so his ears must have been burning for some time already. Still, you looked at him, outraged, and huffed, propping one hand on your hip.

"What? Ah wanntae kiss mah laddie!" You could see Johnny's face flush brighter, mortified expression cut into his pleading eyebrows. He shouldn't have been doing that, that nasty scar was bleeding hardeer, your poor wee boy.

"''ere?! Richt naew?!" Before you could even start scolding him for denying his own mother such a simple thing, someone else's rich voice cut in through barely suppressed laughter.

"Come on, Johnny, tha's no way to talk to your mother. Be a good boy 'n' give 'er a big kiss." Recognizing Ghost from your laddie's tales wasn't hard at all - you met his dark, hooded eyes and gave him a firm, grateful nod, which he reciprocated with a gruff chuckle.

Defeated, Johnny leaned down, sliding his headphones down to his neck, and didn't even hiss as you yanked him by his ear lower to give him a loud, loving smooch on his cheek.

On the way out they sourced four big lads to escort you. As if the whole army would be able to stop you if you decided to give your son a proper whooping.

[race-week]

FOM, The FIA and Liberty Media

What are they? Who is part of them? Do I have to know the difference?

I mean, it might help…

Let’s start with Liberty Media, it is an American mass media company.

Formula One Group (FOG) is a subsidiary of Liberty Media. The President and CEO of FOG is Stefano Domenicali. FOG has a few subsidiaries of its own, but we only need to be concerned with one

Formula One Management (FOM) is the main operating company of the group, and controls the broadcasting, organisation and promotional rights of Formula One. The season calendar for the championship is structured by FOM

The FIA (or Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile) It is the governing body for many auto racing events, including Formula One. The FIA is responsible for regulating competition, whether that be issuing licences and permits to drivers and teams or establishing safety regulations. The current FIA President is Mohammed Ben Sulayem.

The Race Director has the 'overriding authority' in a number of areas during a grand prix weekend, working with the clerk of the course to give out orders. The race director controls practice, qualifying and the race, making sure that the timetable is followed properly. If necessary, the race director can propose changes to the timetable; for example, if heavy rain delays a session. He decides if red flags are brought out, he deploys the safety car and the virtual safety car, and instructs lapped cars to overtake, among other responsibilities

The job of the Stewards is to rule on racing incidents and apply penalties for breaches of the sporting code and technical regulations if they have been reported to them by officials or delegates. Their job is to apply the FIA Sporting or Technical Regulations, they can’t penalise something that’s not mentioned in the regulations.

Things FOM/Liberty Media control: Circuit contracts/fees, calendar layout, TV broadcast deals

Things that the FIA control: Circuit licensing, driver superlicenses, sporting regulations.

[making-your-fave-in-fr]

can you make slugcat from rainworld :3c oh and unrelated to rain wolrd can you make monokuma fom danganronpa if your comfortable with that idk

I made The Survivor (default white Slugcat) from Rain World, and Monokuma from Danganrompa in Flight Rising!

M Fae (Dark Shadow eyes) White/Slime | White/Basic | White/Basic

Grey Spear

H Snapper (Dark Shadow eyes) White/Basic | Obsidian/Basic | Obsidian/Underbelly

[iiyafom]

If you're taking FoM requests still,, can I please please please get Balor but wounded where his scar is,, he is a pathetic wet beast to me and I yearn for him to be covered in blood

If that's too much I will settle for him being caught in the rain (I need him to be soaked and pathetic, regular blorbo things)

Love ur art okie bye ty

aw thank you so much!

i can do ya a balor dipped in ketchup

[nugatorysheep]

Wip Title Game

Tagged by @novantinuum

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs

I am not tagging 50 million people so @extranuts @flaretheskywing @dragonuva @roseetube post some WIP titles cowards

I have several docs that are just meant to be informative that I'm not listing because there's not much to talk about with them, and a TON of unfinished art that is like pre 2022 that will def not get done ever so its been yeeted into my Untouchables folder and also isn't listed here lmao

For convenience, I've taken out any duplicate files that are the same thing but in a different format

As you can see I have three brands of naming conventions for my files: Objective, Boring Name that just Is What It Is, Song Title and/or Lyric, and Shit Post Cause I Was Tired

Lord help me I have SO many WIPS

(Non-Informational) Writing Wips:

Bad End FOM Fic Beguiler of Wills Burning despair does ache Chapter 9: What does it matter how my heart breaks Drabbles Druidbreak Ficlet FOM WIP Doc Glimpses of life denial WIP IDK what to call this but yeah IEOE stuff idk Intermission XXX: Separate Ways Intermission XXX - Last moments of pure recall Intermission XXX - Look in my eyes she still holds the power Intermission XXX - The way ahead feels lonely Intermission XXX - Loss of want back there Pit AU - Editing Prism R&C Soundtrack Breakdown Six Forty Seven Slug it out Tell Me Something Good

Art Wips (I have a million of these):

[shoves hand in abdomen for the symbolism or some shit].clip ask.psd Axel Sketches.clip baneful bunker.png beat up boys.clip Beyond Bliss Gems Lineup.clip Bliss rose stuff for later.clip break the bank.clip chompers.png Connverse dump.clip Cupid dump.clip Druid x Sven x Sonny.clip Dryad sketches.clip EINF Steven.clip evil boi.clip evil leo doodles.clip Eye contact.clip Fab fly floret.clip failure 01.clip Frame of Mind Sketchbook.clip Fusion Chart.clip gay as fuck to be a test subject. what are you testing, your capacity for homosexual desires.clip (this is one long ass title lol) goober.clip Haven't you noticed I'm a star.clip He can say it cause i said so.clip he yeeteth and yoinknth away.clip HEARTBREAK SPINEL REF.clip homie rolled a nat one on genetics fr.clip HONEY REF.clip i am so fucking hungry bro imma make noodles 1.png (there's 4 it's a comic) I have made a new boy.clip Illustration (2).clip Illustration (3).clip Illustration.clip Illustration2 (2).clip Illustration2.clip Inner Demons.clip it triggered his flight or fight response.clip Karma Sketchbook.clip lazer_eyes-3A4E6.clip Lemme tell you what it's like to be a Zero.clip Loss Dot Jaypeg.png me.clip Mermay HB.clip mermay.clip MINOTUAR MAN.clip mirror_gem_designs.clip ML Stevonnie.clip munchmunch.clip Nova Artfight 2.clip Now that it's raining more than ever.clip old man lizard.clip oops all pain lol.clip open arms.clip Pasture crew.clip rare dizzy art.clip Real.mdp Ref wips.clip Sarkhan's Dragonfire.clip Save a horse ride a cowboy.clip Say that again i dare you.clip Screenshot 2023-09-23 001021.png Senkywenky.clip SFW Sketchbook.clip ShatteredStar.clip Show off those guns.clip Slugman the second coming.clip Snaps and snarls.clip so what's the point of holding tight onto my feet.clip Soap.clip some mtg quote.clip Space faggot.clip spongebob window meme.clip Starnheim_Unleashed.psd STEVEN ON LION.clip SU AU Battle Cuts.clip SUDF page redraw.clip Suneater.clip SUTREK.clip Take A Breath.clip Talking to Myself Redraw 1.clip (there are several of these it's a comic) THE SUN IS GETTING LOW.clip THERE IS NO MANA IN THIS AIR.clip they love each other.clip this was supposed to be shoes idk what happened.png Throwing boys at the wall to see what sticks.clip Tourmaline.clip Tower of boys.clip Trolls bullshit.clip tumblr bait purple rabbit man but the lame version [springtrap did it better].clip uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit idk.clip Union of Love.clip wahho.clip Welcome to the grid user.clip Welcome to the grid user.png Will you be satified.clip wip 02.clip You're MINE.clip zoo doodles.clip ZOOLOGY GEMS REF TWO.clip

[yeehawbvby]

When the Moon Fell in Love With the Sun | Ch. 3

March x F!Farmer

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventual smut)

Chapter Summary: March walks the farmer home from the inn somewhat early, so she invites him in for some coffee c:

Author’s Note: Prefacing this chapter with: I have no idea if tech like TVs and stuff exist in FoM but let’s just pretend 😌

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

It was March who wound up forfeiting, after… all that. 

After sharing a grilled cheese, a loaded baked potato, and a large pint glass of water with December, and after enduring some quiet teasing from Ryis about showing her — in March’s own unfortunate words — some finger action, he set out with the farmer to walk her home.

Although the snow of winter was long gone, the rain had died down to a drizzle, and the spring perennials were beginning to blossom around town, there was still a harsh chill that night. The two were practically glued together, bumping elbows and hips as they used each other’s body heat to keep warm.

December noticed the way that, as she grew increasingly lucid thanks to the greasy food in her belly and crisp air on her face, her earlier pains began to come back. It reminded her that not only did she wake up feeling horrid, but she then spent the day pushing herself to her limits, and topped it off with what was basically poison. Real smart.

She knew it wouldn’t stop her from doing this all over again some other time, though. 

“Why didn’t you bring a jacket?” she asked, ending the comfortable silence in hopes to distract herself.

“Didn’t think I’d need it.”

December inspected her torso, taking note of how baggy her own jacket was on her. Hm…

“Wanna share mine?”

March stopped walking and raised a brow. “In what world would we both fit into that thing?”

Halting in front of him, December explained, “It’s big on me, it might work.” She slipped it off and handed it to March. “Try it on.”

March frowned as he observed the goosebumps that prickled her arms before equipping the garment. To December’s dismay, he had this victory over her. 

She truly forgot how buff he was sometimes. The sight of him wearing her jacket and threatening to tear it at the seams was just as amusing as it was frazzling. “Oh.”

March tried to remove it, but stopped at the feeling of the black denim clinging to his biceps for dear life. He sighed, and almost looked pitiful as he went on, “I don’t know if I can get this off.”

December had to stifle a laugh. “It was worth a shot, I guess.”

Carefully, she tugged at the left sleeve while March twisted a little to his right, giving the jacket enough leeway to get his arm out. He then freed the other with much more ease and draped the jacket over his friend’s thick, white ponytail.

She tilted her head forward to let the fabric fall into her arms before swiftly putting it back on. As much as she enjoyed the cold, at times like this where she was a little tipsy, beyond sore, and very sleepy, all she wanted was to bundle up in a pile of blankets by the fire. Maybe she’d do just that when she arrived home.

The two of them fell silent again as they continued their journey, perfectly content with just listening to the flow of the river and their soles against the pavement. Once they reached the dirt path, they began taking turns kicking a rock along with them; and after they lost sight of it in the grass, March tentatively wrapped an arm around December’s shoulders. 

Her heart raced as she looked up at the blacksmith, curious if he’d say anything about it. He got defensive as soon as he felt her stare on him. 

“You shiver too much,” he claimed.

She hadn’t been shivering at all. But upon seeing the faint blush on his cheeks and smelling the residual sweetness of their drinks on his breath, she decided to let him have this one, smiling and allowing herself to cozy up to his side. It was a little hard to walk this way, but neither of them paid mind to it.

A few more minutes passed before they approached the door. It was only nine, so December figured it couldn’t hurt to ask, “Wanna hang out a little longer?”

March’s first impulse was to question her, “And do what?” He mentally slapped himself in the face for how abrasive it came out. 

The farmer, unaffected, shrugged. “I can make coffee, or something.” Shifting on her feet and looking down at them, she added, “Maybe we could watch a movie… or something? Play games? I dunno.”

She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous about this, considering the night they had — and after spending the entire day together, no less. Maybe she was worried she’d come off as clingy or annoying. Maybe she feared that he would get the wrong impression, assuming what most people would if a girl had invited them inside after an evening of drinking together.

“I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to,” December backtracked. “I just thought I’d— oh.”

She cut herself off as March opted to keep his mouth shut, nudging her aside with a smirk that flustered her and opening the door before she could.

Cool.

March had been to the farm, but never for leisure. He’d stopped by once to drop off December’s jacket after she’d left it in the smithy, and a few times to drop off mail, but this was his first time entering the home’s interior. He didn’t know what to expect, and was pleasantly surprised to be greeted with the smell of her woodsy, citrusy air freshener.

Aside from the bathroom and coat closet to his immediate left, the house was entirely open-concept, each “room“ sectioned off with furniture. Her small, L-shaped kitchen resided along the far left corner of the room, with two bookshelves filled with books and trophies serving as a right-hand wall for it. After following December’s lead to remove his shoes by the entrance, he made his way further in, and noticed a makeshift breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen.

Her unmade queen-sized bed was in the corner to the right of the door, with a dresser and shelving covered in plants separating it from the living area. In that space was a large, grey brick fireplace that matched the accent wall it rested against. Her tv was backed with frosty blue LEDs and mounted to the right wall, with an entertainment station below it homing a gaming console, video games, and DVDs. Finally, against the bookcases was a loveseat, with an end table between its arm and the wall.

Beside the console table and her dresser was a small pet bed, by the breakfast nook were some tiny bowls, and next to the couch and nearest bookcase sat a cat tree; and while March noticed these things, and as if on cue, he was greeted by a short-haired tuxedo cat — with thumbs! — rubbing itself against his leg.

He was ecstatic.

Feeling a little self-conscious while March took in the sights around him, December noted, “It feels like you’re judging me.” 

As he crouched down to pet Goose, he answered with surprising earnestness, “Not at all. It’s really nice in here, actually.”

“Oh! Thanks,” December smiled after tossing her jacket onto the bed. Pulling a pair of sweatpants out of her drawers, she told him, “Um, I’m gonna go change real quick.” Walking to the bathroom, she added, “Get comfy. O-or don’t.” She paused for a moment, then breathed, “Whatever.”

She closed the door behind her and once again wondered why she was so antsy. She’d had plenty of people over since moving to Mistria, and she’d been to plenty of people’s houses. Hell, she’d been in March’s home just as much as Celine’s. And sure, the bulk of it doubled as a shop and showroom, but if he ever invited her into his kitchen or his bedroom, she probably wouldn’t think twice about it. 

So why did this feel like a big deal? 

Oooh, how scary, a hot man is hanging out with her! At night! In her house! All alone!

Like, what?

While December splashed her face with cold water and worried that she was being creepy or weird, March wasn’t even considering it. He could tell she was nervous, and he didn’t know why she was, but he found it cute; it was rare he got to be on the other side, usually being the one who turns into a stuttering mess under certain varieties of social pressure.

The blacksmith, while giving Goose some chin scratches, read the tag next to his collar’s bell. He huffed a laugh out through his nose at the idea of December naming one animal after another. Was it just Goose, or did she do this for all of them? Did she have a cow named Dog? A goose named Cat? Did she even name her livestock?

When he made a move to sit on the couch, Goose followed him, climbing into his lap the moment he sat down. March was glad December wasn’t like Hayden, keeping an ”outdoor�� animal in her home. He was even happier that Goose wasn’t nearly as bossy as Henrietta. The sheer audacity of that chicken never ceased to haunt him… 

Coming out of the bathroom with comfier pants and a new sense of determination to simply ignore her racing mind and heart palpitations, December made her way into the kitchen. 

“Alright,” she offered, opening a cabinet, “I’ve got tea, hot cocoa, coffee..?”

“I’m pretty torn between coffee and hot chocolate, to be honest.”

“How about a mocha then?”

March peeked at her over the shorter book shelf. Glaring and raising a brow, he asked, “Can I trust you to make a good one?”

December stared at him deadpan for a moment before getting started, ignoring the question with a stubborn “Hm.”

As March watched his host work, he began imagining what it would be like to experience this regularly. To come here and share warm drinks, and maybe even stay over, after hanging out at the inn. To wake up with December, to help her out in the fields, to pour her a coffee or make her breakfast while she got ready for the day.

That scared him. He blamed his thoughts on the minuscule bits of alcohol left in his system and turned back around. “Mind if I start a fire?” he asked, wanting a distraction.

“Go ahead,” December nodded — even if he couldn’t see her — while pulling some milk from the fridge. “I was gonna anyway.”

Shortly after that, as the smell of coffee and smoke began wafting through the house, March began to feel almost unreasonably cozy. He let himself sink into the couch, and eventually lay down, hugging the cat to his belly.

December was surprised to see that he’d dozed off when she made her way over to him. In her eyes, he was basically a big, grumpy cat. Letting his guard down enough to fall asleep had to have been a sign of trust, or at least comfort, in her. 

It was an honor, really. 

She couldn’t help the grin that crept up on her lips while she observed him for a moment. She’d never seen him so calm. Of course, when he was drunk she had the privilege of his softened features, and smile lines rather than deep creases along his brow. But to see him sober and so at peace was strange — in a good way, of course. It was nice.

It didn’t stop her from being a menace, though.

She had half a mind to wake him up gently, but opted to just knock his knee with hers instead. “Hey.” Another nudge. “Hey, sleepyhead.” 

March barely even registered that he conked out as his eyes blinked open, his eyebrows shooting up. ”Oh.” He leaned up on his hands slowly until Goose jumped down from his perch atop him, leaving the two of them alone while he relocated to December’s bed. “Shit.”

“Good thing you have this,” December said, handing him his mocha once he sat up fully.

He scooted over to make room for her, claiming the spot by the end table while December sat next to the cat tree, her knees to her chest and her matching beverage in her grasp around them. 

Before the two of them knew it, they were lost in conversation. Playful bickering about December’s brewing skills after March’s first sip (which he refused to admit was delicious) turned into reminiscing on their childhoods. March foolishly drank his first coffee black at age nine and spat it out instinctively, dirtying his pants and the tablecloth in front of him; meanwhile, December hadn’t tried it until she was 17 only because her parents said it would stunt her growth, just to wind up being 5’2” (and three-quarters, she emphasized) anyway.

That led into her telling him more about her snowboarding days: for example, how she was only semi-pro, so she wasn’t very well-known, but she was still able to make a living off it. March learned that December sucks at skiing, she can’t skateboard, and she busted her face the first time she rode a bike without help and refused to get back on one ever since. It’s a miracle she was even semi-pro, March thought, given how clumsy she is.

He voiced that opinion. December flipped him the bird.

She then learned that March broke his first bone by dropping a hammer on his foot and breaking a toe during one of his first ever smithing lessons. His second break was only a month later by hammering his index finger. His parents were reluctant to keep teaching him the craft, but Olric convinced them otherwise.

Discussion about minor injuries and fractures segwayed into December telling March about her accident and its resulting impact on her body. She hadn’t even told Celine the specifics yet. It was something she inexplicably never felt comfortable to share. But something about the night growing older, and the way March was listening so intently, and how he was growing so much more earnest with each new word he uttered, had her feeling safe enough to give him those little bits and pieces that she often kept to herself.

For March, December putting all this trust in him despite how cruel he’d once been was more than enough for him to offer some knowledge of his own inner workings in return. To tell her secrets only he and sometimes his brother knew. 

To feel comfortable rather than cagey as they grew physically closer, too; their shoulders touching after they’d abandoned their empty cups on the end table, and their bodies slumping against each other’s before completely melting together, as their arms overlapped and their thumbs brushed; as March rested his cheek atop December’s head while hers squished against his shoulder, her left dimple disappearing into his skin for safe keeping with each smile and laugh.

As they both slowly realized that, this entire time, they’d simply talked. They paid no mind to the means of entertainment around them because they had settled onto a narrow path of banter, confessions and stories — sans the distraction offered by the forge, or the courage granted by booze — that neither of them were willing to stray from.

[phonyroni]

I played Fields of Mistria and it's so cute! I wanted to design myself as an NPC, so here's my farmer fella! I don't have a favorite for romance quite yet, but Hayden, Reina, and Balor are all super sweet ♥️

[correctproseka]

*sees ya reblog about how Mizuki always holds an umbrella to give shelter to others but not themselves*

You know what this means, right?

This means that Rui and An should be the ones to shield Mizuki from the rainnnnn!!!

Am I’m being delusional? Yes! But man! I just love this trio! And An and Rui would totally protect Mizuki from the rain!

Everyone protevts Mizuki frm the rain but themselves fjsmchsjcj the difference is that few people realized that Mizuki is doing yhat

Sorry fom the typos i am sick (its just a cold idk why its bad)

[yuri-is-online]

hihiiii its 🐯 anon!

a couple weeks ago i got fom and coming here and seeing the juniper pfp made me so happy !

i guess its also pretty consistent that i like march since i just tend to gravitate towards characters with that sort of personality from him but EEE i havent had much time to play ☹️

i hope youve been doing well!

i just love imagining all the diff enemies to lovers w march, someone who in my head is just a boy who wants to be loved but is too scared to love at the same time😞

:DDDD I love Juniper so much, she's everything I want in a ouja sama and a sorceress, and I love how she has Dozy as her pet. All of the characters in FOM are just so well designed it makes me cry genuine tears of joy.

March seems to be the fan favorite and I totally get why. He dyes his hair red for the *aesthetic* His older brother is a himbo. He can't hold his alcohol to save his life and is the sort of sloppy drunk who tells everyone what he really thinks of them except it's all positive stuff he'd be too embarrassed to say if he was sober. And he takes his hot chocolate with extra marshmallows; something he says on market day with a straight face as if he doesn't understand why that would clash with his vibe. Which if we are being real he probably doesn't, boy probably thinks everyone likes hot chocolate and would get stupid defensive if you teased him even a little about it.

What really sold me on him was when he gives you enhanced copper hoe. I usually upgrade my hoe ha last in farming games so for me it conjured images of March watching this new farmer he wasn't told was moving in until they did working away diligently at the forge, day in day out. Even in the rain they're standing there trying to make enough ingots to improve the piss poor tools Adeline managed to scrounge up for them and just missing the mark.

He's worried about them. Maybe he was smugly waiting for them to ask him to make something, everyone else in town does. But they don't, they look away in frustration every time he opens his mouth. Fine, if they're going to be difficult about this he'll be the bigger person and make what he thought they would first. If he was upset they didn't make a hoe first he isn't once he's finished with his piece. He's proud of it, and just the bit insufferable when he sees you using it.

Then he realizes he was watching you work like a slack jawed idiot for the better part of an hour and falls out of his bed in shock.

[reveriesofadoration]

Closed FoM for the night, and I left with another piece of info for dove!! I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but because of her scar when it rains, she feels intense phantom pains that leave her bedridden, so i can imagine that during a week where rain feels endless Valen gets worried and mentions it to Josephine at the inn which gets everybody else worried and when they go check on her they find the house a mess, candles lit and a tea cup half empty.

Immediately, Valen checks on her as she knew beforehand of her phantom pains but didn't realize the extent of it. She gives her a sleeping tonic, and the others offer help with cleaning , caring for crops and barn animals.

This can also be smth 👀 for Caldarus, too, where he doesn't have an idea of what's going on, but seeing people run in and out of the cabin worries him, and when the sky clears he immediately asks if she's okay 😭😭😭😭

Her phantom pains are something that dont really get any better due to the nature of the injury, and it doesn't help she has a lot of major scars that aren't as easy to see compared to the one on her face