#yeah anyways mmm

[b4kuch1n]

siren

[azaracyy]

a lesson on good karma digimon survive week 2024 day 4: supporting characters

[dizzybizz]

redraw of a galo from last year!!! :3

side-by-side comparison :-)

[oifaaa]

Thinking about the rule of three and how if a good writer got ahold of Dick then maybe the next time Dick gets to go full righteous anger on a guy the fucker he's punching doesn't get back up

[1driedpersimmon]

Thought I’d give this piece I did, a few months ago, another go since now I know how to draw these two a lot better 🤭🤭

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 20: Truth

The truth…is uglier than you could have ever expected.

tw // vomit (spoilers too)

...happens only if he ate a meat bun prior to this

(all vomit in rain code is censored in pink glitter ✨)

based on this post I made long back

[mblue-art]

care. reassurance.

[letojessica]

what is memory?

arrival, dir. denis villeneuve // a letter excerpt to her mother on 21 january 1951, sylvia plath // the persistence of memory, salvador dali // progress, franz wright // euphoria, cr. sam levinson

[where-the-water-flows]

things I should be doing: work

things I am doing: thinking about the opposite au from yesterday's 'proto-jinyuan alliance has to deal with teenager li xiangyi', where the Sigu sect are the ones having to deal with this absolute fucking nightmare li xiangyi dug up out of some ditch (in hell! probably!!) and is fully just like 'hes ours now play nice kids' about, aka barely twenties di feisheng.

as ever. I just think prolonged contact between them at that age would make both of them so much worse in the funniest possible ways, and deal like. constant 6d10 psychic damage to everyone around them, which is also funny to me, personally.

[pixlokita]

Mmmmm watcha sayyyyyyyyy

[pinayelf]

a frustrating thing to me is often how even ppl/spaces that claim to be leftist and left-leaning will just hate fat ppl and see weight gain as something inherently bad

[bugprinz]

he's a phone charm fiend TO ME.

[alluralater]

"say it don't spray it." nah open that mouth nice and wide, babygirl. i'm about to spit some facts in it

[the-kipsabian]

anyways before i sleep i counted some numbers so here ko-fi has a travel goal now woo

basically this counts for the rest of my travel expenses (trains from home to the airport and back and travel in london), food, the most important activities outside the shows already paid for, and then theres a bit of an extra buffer on top to even it out and to make it as comfortable as possible

anything is appreciated, if youve ever enjoyed my work please consider at least sharing this, or buying a commission as i have the smallest ones open rn (at the time of opening this, to fully cover this with the commissions i would need to sell 135 of those. just putting it out there how cheap they are lol)

this is just the one fun thing im gonna have this year im fairly certain, and since the biggest payments are already made (plane tickets, hotel and both shows im going to are paid for) and im for sure making this trip anyways, this is just to ensure a safe rest of the travel and that i dont have to overly stress about funds and stuff while im out there

that is all. thank you 💜

[tomscryingcorner]

BOOK IT!

[finnpeach]

Hunt

(T/HRONE OF GLAS$ SPOILERS AHEAD! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PAST Q/UEEN OF SHADOW$ BE WARNED!)

My love for R/owan is boundless, and the series would be infinitely better if he was sick.

This is a multi-part fic of A/elin and R/owan training on a mountain and YEAH! HE HAS A COLD!

not much sneezing yet but it will come I promise

likes comments reblogs always loved and giggled over <3

****

Aelin stalks through the underbrush with lethal silence. Leaves covered with dew from the early morning mist streak across her face, dotting her cheeks. Her prey, a mountain hare the size of her head, nibbles on the sparse grass a few yards away.

She knocks her arrow, slipping in a breath. She can’t wait to see the look on Rowan’s face when she brings back a hare this size. Slowly, she pulls the bowstring back, kissing against her face. The hare turns, startled, breaths coming fast. Now or never–

“hh’rZzSHHh’uh!” 

Aelin gasps at the sound that echoes around the mountain. It cracks like a whip, scaring even the crows nesting in trees. The hare takes off and she desperately releases the arrow after her prey. The point finds its home in the thick trunk of a tree rather than the soft neck of the hare.

There goes breakfast. Her stomach growls pitifully. Seething, she rises from the brush and goes to retrieve her arrow. 

Five minutes later, Aelin stalks back to the makeshift camp she and Rowan had assembled the night before. The Fae prince had forced her to run from the castle to these distant mountains, shifting in and out of her Fae form to master control, where he then informed her they would be camping for a week out in the elements. And she was to hunt their every meal in between training.

It was a pathetic time, especially with the rain that has settled across the mountain. Damp and cold to her bones, Aelin approaches their campsite. Rowan, appearing much drier than she, sits by the fire she had sparked earlier that morning. He looks oddly run down, like he hadn’t slept much the night before.

Aelin is sure he hadn’t. The mountains were too misty to sleep outside without waking up damp, so they had packed just one tent to keep their baggage light. Lying beside Rowan, last night she had been the private audience to his tossing and turning, grumbling, and finally his snoring. 

“You fucking bastard. You scared off breakfast,” she hisses as she approaches, throwing her bow and bundle of arrows down by the tent. Rowan does not look up from the dagger he cleans in his hands.

“And how – snf! – pray tell, did I scare breakfast from here?” He grumbles. Aelin catches the way he sniffles thickly, his nostrils twitching up with the force of it.

She drops her satchel, full of only a bundle of pathetic berries.  “You sneezed.” She tries not to give in the warmth that pools in her lower stomach at the memory of the sound. It’s the first time she had ever heard him sneeze, and she was not disappointed. “For someone so keen on silence, I expected you’d know how to sneeze more quietly.”

Rowan doesn’t even grace her taunting with a reply, or a snarl. He just continues rubbing a cloth down the length of his dagger. Strange. He must be feeling really tired if he didn’t bother to punish her for such a remark. 

She sits down across from the fire, on a log they’d rolled over so they didn’t sit on wet grass. Feigning interest in destemming the berries she’d picked, she studies him through the crackling flames. 

His white hair is loose around his shoulders, creating a curtain that shields the dark tattoo running along his tan face. The tips of his Fae ears poke out just behind the white strands. After weeks of training with him, sleeping out in the elements beside him, she’s learned that he prefers to tie his hair up. It’s so rare to see him with it down.

“More hand to hand combat training today, or magic training?” She asks, breaking the silence that is only marred by the crackling flames.

Rowan sets the dagger aside. “Your job was to hunt. And since you still haven’t caught anything, your job is still to hunt.” He settles his sharp green eyes on her, brows set. If he didn’t piss her off so much, she might actually tremble under his gaze.

She raises her palms in defeat. “Fine, fine. But if you sneeze and scare off my prey again, I won’t be sharing the catch with you.” Even if she’d very much like for him to sneeze again, she’d rather eat first.

In one swoop, she picks up her bow and arrows and satchel again before setting off. With her Fae senses, she could scent a herd of deer in the southwest. Now that would show Rowan. Perhaps she’d bring back a buck, and spear him with its antlers.

As soon as she leaves the camp, nearly out of earshot, she hears the same thunderstrike from before. Perhaps Rowan had been waiting for her to leave.

“hhzjHSHHhieWw!”

A shiver runs down her spine as more startled crows caw in the trees.

****

Two hours later, Aelin returns with a small doe slung across her shoulders.

It’s mid afternoon. She had been lucky a herd was still grazing so late in the morning down by the clearing. She’d been even luckier that Rowan had either gotten his sneezing under control, or learned how to be quiet, because nothing had startled her catch this time.

“Lunch,” she declares to Rowan, dropping the deer to the grass. He hasn’t moved from his spot by the fire. “Is served.”

“It was supposed to be– snf! Breakfast,” he mutters, reaching the dagger at his side from earlier. His voice sounds dulled, like he’s congested.

Aelin rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not like you helped. And I got us a catch to last us days.” She pats the stomach of the doe proudly. It isn’t very old – there’s still a sprinkling of fawn spots across her back. Aelin feels a twang of guilt for not singling out an older one.

Rowan pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing through his mouth. Aelin hardly has time to prepare before he jerks down towards his crotch, a light mist spraying across his trousers.

“hiHh–... yHhZzSHhhyuu!” A familiar, rushing heat spreads through Aelin’s gut. She swallows, watching as he rubs his nose on his wrist and glares up at her. Is he going to get mad at her for his sneezing?

Rowan chooses not to comment on it, something Aelin is secretly grateful for. “You were– snf! instructed to catch something small. We’re moving camp this afternoon.” He angles the pommel of the dagger towards her.

“What?!”

“Rain is coming tonight and will flood this area. I told you this morning. And now you’ve wasted a young doe’s life.”

A flame of rage flickers to life inside her chest. This is all his fault. “Well, I wouldn’t have wasted jack-shit if you hadn’t ruined my catch earl–”

“Aelin,” he growls, a no-nonsense sound. The tips of his canines poke past his lips. Aelin shuts up immediately. 

He stands, crossing the camp in two strides, and shoves the pommel of the knife against her stomach. She glares beneath his gaze. “You missed the catch because you did not act fast enough. Now you can either carry the doe across the mountain, or… hhH—!” His breath snags, eyes looking off into the distance for a split second. Aelin’s heart hammers in her chest.

He quickly recovers and sniffs again, much to her disappointment, and focuses his gaze on her. “Or you can leave it and realise you wasted a young animal’s life for your pride.” 

Before she can retort, he turns on his heel and she offers a middle finger to his large, muscular back. 

As if sensing her, he says over his shoulder, “And– sNf!– pack up the tent.”