#I've just gotten used to it...

[thelostgirl21]

Ever since realising that Joey referring to Jaskier as sapiosexually connecting with Radovid was likely 100% intentional, I've literally been losing my shit over the potential implications...

Like... new headcanon!

What if Jaskier has always approached the act of having sex with someone else as a form of performance art, driven by his desire to please his "audience", and making other people passionately respond to what he's doing for them?

Like... what if what normally sexually interests him isn't so much inspired by the other person, but more by the general idea of being wanted, needed, and the anticipation of the positive feedback he might get from sexually interacting with them.

He readily experiences primary aesthetic attraction towards other people, finds them interesting, becomes curious about them, and feels instantly affectionate towards them; but he's not sexually aroused by / attracted to them, per say.

He really wants to make them feel good, and bask in that sense of intimacy, togetherness and praises he receives from being sexually involved with them (yeah, because he's that good at figuring out what pleases them, and offering it to them).

And somehow, audience response/participation tends to really inform how good or "smooth" he is when it comes to his ability to seduce someone, and convince them to become sexually intimate with him in the first place?

For example...

So... what if Jaskier is a bard and an artist through and through? Not just on stage, but in the sheets as well?

Turning sex into poetry and something very deliberate, where it's all about a sense of artistic expression, and a pure melody of various physical sensations and emotions!

Sexually? Jaskier is an artist, a creative, a free thinker... All is fair!

But it's not something that he usually feels any urge or need to engage in based on the way someone else inspires him any sudden desire to have sex with them specifically.

He loves his sexual partners, he's intrigued by them, he wants to connect with them - even if that connection lasts but a night - and sex allows him to do that.

But maybe he has no idea that sex might be experienced differently by others.

Maybe he just thinks they're like really really REALLY expressive and appreciative of the sex itself, or something, whenever he notices how hungrily some of them appear to throw themselves at him, or at each other.

Also, I've somehow always found it a bit weird how Jaskier seems to fully remain clear minded during Yennefer's magical orgy.

Yennefer comments on how Geralt seems to be immune to her spell, as if it's some kind of big deal!

But then, there's Jaskier...

He just waves at them as if he's totally unaffected by everyone else fucking each other around him, and being surrounded by a bunch of naked bodies having sex...

And/or looks like he's not quite comfortable with the way someone's hand is moving closer to his crotch at some point...

Grant it, he's slowly being suffocated to death by a Djinn's magic, and likely has other priorities than sex in mind!

But that's just the thing...

Isn't Yennefer's spell supposed to override people's ability to think rationally or fully understand what's happening? Everyone snaps out of it looking confused, and poor Jaskier just basically passes out, but he's never once looked like he stopped looking at what was happening around him from an outsider's P.O.V.

Whenever the camera cuts to him, he seems to be sharing the same reality as Geralt and Yennefer, not the kind of sexual haze everyone else appears to be happily trapped in.

Would being affected by the Djinn just make him immune to the whole "sex weed magic thingy" as well?

Or would the usual lack of primary sexual attraction towards other people make it a bit harder for Yennefer's spell to take a hold on him?

(Another headcanon theory I came up with - should Jaskier be revealed as being the direct descendant of Fjall and the Lark - would be that, perhaps, the small touch of magic in his blood would be enough to make him more resistant to certain types of spell... On top of being able to eat whatever he comes across without freaking poisoning himself, I swear!)

But yeah, let's just imagine, for a moment, that sapiosexual Jaskier would have no clue (or very little clue) of what it actually feels like to specifically be sexually attracted to someone (rather than the sex itself, and all it may represent to him) in a way where you are viscerally craving that sexual contact with that specific someone, and you feel like you might go crazy if they don't finally have sex with you.

Then, along comes Radovid, that he develops a sapioromantic and sapiosexual attraction for...

And, for a while, Jaskier thinks he's just losing his freaking mind, because there are moments where Radovid is just there, simply being all sensitive and insightful while discussing dwarven politics with Yarpen, for example...

... and poor Jaskier's never been so sexually aroused in his life!!!

But Radovid is not even technically doing anything that's supposed to be "sexually charged"!

He's fully clothed, being all smart and sensitive, talking about a topic of interest to him while having lunch by the side of the road...

...and Jaskier is just there, casually eating next to him while listening to him talk with their friends.

It's 100% casual and totally trivial, day to day stuff... No plan for Jaskier to try and seduce him and have sex there!

So, how come does he suddenly feel the urge to pounce on him and beg Radovid to just take him right here and there, in front of all their friends at camp, and it's taking all the self-control he can humanly muster not to act upon that impulse?!

Instead, Jaskier stands up, awkwardly excuses himself, and decides the best way to manage the situation is to go take a random dip fully clothed in the nearest river.

"Why?", they ask. Because he was getting hot, that's why!

And no, he couldn't just remove his clothes instead! He liked them really baggy an concealing that day, thank you very much!

As a matter of fact, he might decide to just start wearing his shirt over his pants from now on, because he's starting a new fashion trend! No other reason!

Oh...

Oh, no...

NO.

Don't you dare look at me all concerned while trying to read into my behavior, you stupid prince... Wait. Is that a smirk?

You're smirking aren't you?

How do you look like you've figured it out, when I've no fucking clue what's even going on with me?!

Great! And now the river's cool water is not even working anymore!

That's it! I'm never walking out of here again, and I hope you know it's all your fault!

No. No, don't take off your shirt and get into the water with me, that's not...

Oh? Oh! Everyone else is going and leaving us alone? Okay, nevermind! Fuck! Why's it so hard to walk while standing waist deep in water? Surely there must be a way to get to you faster...

And I'm just imagining poor Jaskier trying to ask Yennefer if Radovid might be some kind of sorcerer with latent magical abilities or something... Because, whenever he's around, there are moments where he randomly feels this overwhelming urge to make love to him, even if the context is not appropriate for delivering a sexual performance of any kind!

Like yes, it has happened to him before to have "the muses" whisper in his ear that sex with a certain someone might be good, and he's typically very open to sudden bursts of inspiration and unplanned sexual improvisation!

But that's not the same thing!

It only happens specifically with Radovid - especially when he's saying or doing something really witty, sensitive or insightful - and it's like his whole body suddenly catches fire, gets all tense and trembling with need; and being touched by him and having sex with him feels like finally being able to breathe after someone's forcefully been holding your head under water for a while...

Radovid must be bewitching him, somehow, for sure!

And Yenn is like "You know that what you've just been describing is simply what regular sexual desire feels like for most people, right?"

And Jaskier's just going:

[egophiliac]

do skully have pokemon?

Pumpkaboo is the obvious one, but y'know, sometimes the obvious one is the right one! (we'll say SUPER SIZE Pumpkaboo, just for fun. big pumpkin for big skeleton boy.) and another person actually also suggested Greavard, which I somehow hadn't considered, but feels so perfect that I feel like I should have. dangit.

(they can also have little Nightmare Suit costumes :D)

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

“the point of kintsugi is to treat broken pieces and their repair as part of the history of an object”

David Mitchell // Hanif Abdurraqib // photo by @lakevida // @ashstfu // tiktok comment by @/muddafrigga // Miranda July // Pete Wentz // @jovialtorchlight // caption from Penny Reid [x]

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[bunnyboy-juice]

NO MORE ASSOCIATING THINGS WITH FEMMES ONLY BECAUSE THEY ARE PINK!HYPERFEM FEMMES ARE GREAT AND I LOVE YOU CAMPY FEMMES WHO EMBODY PINK BUT ALSO JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU GUYS NOT GO MORE THAN ONE DAY W/O TRYING TO SHOEHORN FEMMES INTO BEING ONLY PINK UWU BABIES. I AM FEMME AS IN GRASS AS IN DIRT AS IN TREE BARK AS IN WEEDS SPROUTING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK CEMENT. FEMME AS IN GENDER NONCONFORMITY AS IN FUCK YOU MY FEMININITY IS WHAT *I* SAY IT IS. FEMME AS IN DEPTH AND DARKNESS AND WARMTH AND TERROR. FEMME AS IN CAVES. FEMME AS IN LIGHTNING. FEMME AS IN AN AMALGAMATION OF TRAITS THAT I HAVE DECIDED ARE FEMININE REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIETY SAYS. FUCK IS IT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!???

[marshmallowgoop]

no thoughts just Heiji Hattori (HD)

[sysig]

Two skeletons in a trench lab coat (Patreon)

Bonus:

He’s very careful! Everything was fine before you interrupted!

[astralstarlight]

falling asleep on you !

w/ al haitham, wanderer, diluc, tartaglia/childe

a/n: under the cut because they got really long omg

al haitham likes to rest his head on your shoulder whenever he's tired. when it's in a more private setting, he'll lay his head in your lap instead. a loud, satisfied sigh will leave his lips once he's in this position. it's almost as though all the tenseness in his body simply dissipates once you start running your fingers through his hair. he rarely drifts off for a nap, but he looks close enough to peace when he's lying down like that.

it's the closest you'll ever get to having him be needy or clingy in any way. he tends to lean his whole weight onto you without explicit warning, so it's taken some practice to make sure you don't fall over on to one side — helplessly squashed.

there are signs to look out for.

you'll notice him staring at you out of the corner of his eye, making sure you're comfortable with how you're sitting before he places his head on your shoulder. sometimes he'll even mention that it's very "quiet and peaceful" before nearly knocking you over with a heavy slump.

when he's been kept up late for too many nights, he really will drift off to sleep. he's heavy and he makes your entire body ache from trying to hold him up, but you can't really bear to move him, especially not when he smiles in his sleep after you brush your fingers over his cheek.

he won't tell you that he always wakes from your sudden touch.

and with how cute he thinks you are when you're trying not to wake him, he doubts he ever will.

"i don't need sleep." wanderer announces proudly. it takes him exactly nine minutes to pass out after you promise that you'll keep watch while he's resting. you even make sure that he's asleep by waving your hands in front of his face to see whether his eyes twitch. nothing.

he doesn't even breathe.

his arms stay crossed over his chest and his hair falls onto one side. completely at rest.

still, this is the last thing you were expecting would happen. you resist the urge to touch his face. you haven't gotten that far with him yet.

unfortunately, you end up falling asleep beside him instead of keeping watch. there's something so comforting about his weight on yours, that you lean back into him, just to close your eyes for a few minutes.

the next time you wake is with the morning sun, and with a blanket haphazardly thrown over you. you fight with it for a bit, tangling your arms even further.

"oh good, you're up," comes the familiar, haughty voice. you expect to be berated for falling asleep, but he says something different instead. "thank you."

"huh?" you murmur intelligently. it's not fair that he does this when you're still groggy from sleeping.

he turns away, pretending he said nothing else. you smile at his back. guess he's still full of surprises.

diluc's very gentle with you. he's always been the one to beckon you over once he notices you yawning or when you look a little down. the way he caresses you while wrapping you in his arms is enough to send you straight to sleep. it's cozy.

but you've never seen him asleep before you. he's always been the one to creep back into your shared bed at the crack of dawn, when you're just awake enough to know that he's there.

this time, you're the one late.

he's already sleep — legs stretched out and turned onto one side. you take a single step forward and jump as he snores, disturbing the silence.

you crawl into the bed, facing the outline of his back. you reach out for him just to hesitate before actually touching him. what if he wakes up if you try to cuddle him? what if he has a really busy day tomorrow and he'll be frustrated with not getting enough sleep?

he answers the myriad of questions for you. just your presence must be enough for him to know you're there in his sleep. he ends up turning over to face you and bundling you up in his arms, letting out a huff. on the other hand, you're tense, unsure if you've accidentally awoken him or not.

"diluc?" you mumble.

the only answer is his steady breathing.

hope you're ready to stay squished in that same position for the whole night.

tartaglia pesters you with affection. he shows up at your door in the middle of the night sometimes, claiming he has "no where else to go right now". on certain nights, he'll be covered in blood that's definitely not his with a fiery look in his eyes as though he's set alight from the inside. he's not really there on those nights.

more often, he shows up with a cheery look on his face that disappears once you start to clean him up. you don't need to look at him to know that he's already staring at you.

tartaglia is always quiet in both types of nights; an unsettled nature or a calm energy. you're never sure what you're going to get.

but you know this: he would always show up after long periods of disappearing, even if it was just the smallest scrape. just to see you.

he'll be the one tucking himself in between your legs on the couch, no matter how many times you tell him that his legs are too long and he's way too heavy to lean back on you like that. but he does it. somehow.

when you start to grow tired from listening to his shenanigans, he becomes so gentle with you. he'll carry you to bed and hold you until you sleep.

he's gone in the morning, or maybe he leaves once he's sure that you've been lulled to sleep. either way, you know he was here. even if he tries to disappear without a trace.

he's always here on the nights that you sleep the best after all.

[bixels]

I've been making the transition these past few months, but I think I'm gonna just move back to Tumblr. My Twitter's follower-base has reached a point where I can't tweet anything casually opinion-related without it overflowing like a toilet. I post a short thread on my gripes with color design in anime and I'm getting QRT'd with "kill this guy with hammers" reaction gifs. Like, damn, this isn't fun anymore. It's not fun to talk about stuff on Twitter in general anymore. I wanted to post some ship dynamic doodles sometime there, but I know I'm gonna get weirdly aggressive takes and reactions. Monkey's paw curls, but I don't particularly like having that many followers.

[solitaireships]

I feel like I should say since there's been a recent uptick in a lot of communities I'm in/see stuff from a lot of white people pretending to be Asian, but you are not welcome here if you are in anyway stealing from Asian cultures for clout or the aesthetics of it

This includes if you're white and you give your self inserts Asian names, I truly do not care if your f/o is from an anime, you should not be using an Asian name under any circumstances. I hate that whenever I see someone using an Asian name online, I feel like I have to start searching their account to see if they're actually Asian or just a white person who likes the aesthetic of it bcs far too many white people will use Asian names here just bcs it sounds cool, with no regard for the actual cultural meaning behind it. Meanwhile actual Asian people will be mocked for their names, or treated like their names are too hard to learn to pronounce, or discriminated against based on their names

Asian cultures are not a fun little costume for people to dress up with. They aren't just a nice aesthetic, they aren't just a thing you can borrow from bcs you think it sounds cool

[elliewiltarwyn]

i apologize in advance for the bitching that's ahead. it's why i wanted to wait till pigeon's fun birthday times was over to address this:

i'm not the femroe in question, but this was left on one of the thirst shots of a very dear femroe friend of mine. and.

can we not?? can we not do this?? can we not say this, especially on people's thirstposts that they're specifically making because they think their character looks great??

"oh wow this character of this race/gender combo is gorgeous! i'm shocked! (implying characters of this race/gender combo are not usually gorgeous) (telling the player of this character directly in their tags you do not usually think of their race/gender combo as good-looking)" do you not realize how this sounds. do you not realize how backhanded this "compliment" is.

there is having preferences, sure, there is expressing love for certain character types, including their race and gender, but when you start saying "for a [race/gender]" maybe take a step back and interrogate why that is? whether you'd say that to someone irl (i should hope not!!) or about characters in their fanart or such? and definitely don't say it where they can see it?? if this has awakened a newfound appreciation for femroes within you, op, that's great, but maybe think about why that might be such a revelation, and try not to express such shock to their face next time.

[michelle-jacksons-art-blog]

To be loved is to be changed.

[deep-dark-fears]

You can be smoothie. A fear submitted by Felix to Deep Dark Fears - thanks! You can find original art in my store over HERE!

[motherhenna]

Portrait of a grown-up (28-year-old) Isa! Though I'm unsure if I'll ever go back to writing his story, I've at least decided to have him survive. Clearly I've gone soft! Or maybe I just wanted to make my original teenage OC crush the same age as I am now so I can fall for him all over again lol

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

So, my husband and I just started watching TMNT 2012 last night, and he pointed out how he thought it was funny that the first episode was titled "Rise of the Turtles."

... which made me remember that the title of the first Rise episode was "Mystic Mayhem."

Is this like, a thing? That Nick names new TMNT iterations after the first episode of the previous one? I know they're not exactly the same, but I mean, come on. Rise of the Turtles -> Rise of the TMNT, and Mystic Mayhem -> Mutant Mayhem?

Could be coincidental, or something that everybody is already aware of, but I found it amusing.

[stardustedknuckles]

Okay but I need to know what the people who have only watched c3 think about Beau and Caleb because I've been rotating them in my head for three years too long to be objective anymore but like. Getting to see them through the eyes of a new party just reminded me that even though so much of our delight in C2 was focused around the constant indignity of the Nein, they are objectively a flickering metronome between "how the fuck are these people alive" and "this is the most hyper competent group of mercenaries I've ever seen" and I just. Do they know. Do they know that Beau is so fucking cool. Are there people who learned these two npcs have a whole campaign and want to learn more about them. I look at these two and see a montage of tiefling dicks and red eyes and promising to kill the other if something goes wrong. I see Caleb smearing mud and bat shit on Beau's face and Beau just resigned even as she makes the most aggrieved and annoyed sounds, Beau hauling Caleb's dissociated ass over her own skinny shoulder and walking him to safety. I look at them and see 500 hours and more of the empire siblings. The weeks and months they spent going from hating the parts of themselves they saw in each other to loving in the other what they still struggled with in themselves. I see chosen siblings, best friends. What do other people see?