#not putting these in the main tags so as to not clutter them

[hwasang]

Love those renchanting designs, they look great in your style! You guys have any fun headcanons about them you wanna share? I'd love to hear em!

thank you!! what i love about this ask is that you know my gf and i feed each others brainrot over this. anyways, we got a few

i think martyn is fox coded but lexi says he is more cat coded but also will go with fox coded.

i need to do a fucking line up but there are so many people thats so many people to draw TAT but really martyn isnt Small, hes 5'8", its just that ren is Massive

ren loves to bite, which was already drawn out by this person, but we also believe that martyn is Into it, and also has gotten to a point where, unless its the neck, he doesnt really gaf.

we both like to make them gnc but martyn is more obviously so. ren paints his claws, and likes to wear long skirts if the weather calls for it while martyn is a lot more creative with his expression

i consider ren more of a shifter than a werewolf, but i still like calling him a werewolf. mandatory moon shifts are still fun. hes also horse sized doggo. he likes to flop onto people he loves, in or out of wolf form. again martyn has gotten used to this.

i usually don't use the name dogwarts for a couple of reasons, one of them being how i headcanon the red army as a pack, like a proper one and everything. AND OH BOY THAT REQUIRES ITS OWN POST HONESTLY

I AM UNWELL ABOUT RED ARMY

i have many many thoughts abt how ren, martyn, skizz, etho and bigb interact with each other, how its changed their relationships fundamentally with those closest in their lives. ren had false and doc, but now hes got four others who he needs to have close at all times because he wants to take care of them and thats impossible bcus three of them are not on hermitcraft server, theyre not /home/ with him, and it drives him a bit batty and makes it easy to take advantage of him. doc, etho and false can only do so much.

and of course ren and martyn are proper soulmates, not whatever was going on in double life. no wonder bigb thought ren was cheating on him

OH AND I HAVE A WHOLE LIST OF THOUGHTS ABOUT MARTYN AND THE EVO KIDS

[hanafubukki]

Finally able to open some packages after several weeks of being busy 🙌🙌

When I went out of state, I was able to go to this marketplace and it had so many items to choose from. The flowers were beautiful.

I was also able to get these prints.

Me: dragon? *zooms*

(DBZ is the siblings but I thought it was cute)

Got this flower I laid with Crystal and silver. It’s beautiful in the light 💞💞 the seller had so many beautiful options but this one just stood out to me.

Next is my twst merch:

Got these recently and so happy with them 💞💞🙌

This was part of my AX haul that I went with (@/twstgo and @/oyasumeii). It was so much fun.💞💞

If anyone wants to know the artists let me know 🙌🙌 I think I remember most of them.

Also my sibling:

Sib: *points at malleus* I see male maleficient merch.

Me: …yep

Sib: *point at lilia* ah yes the weird one.

Me: you know he’d take that as a compliment. 😂😂

Sib: why don’t you have more merch of these two *points at silver and sebek*

Me: because i can’t find them or no one makes them 🥲 but I have plush and keychains!

Sib: I see. Lol *points at riddle* ah yes, alice.

Me: he’s not Alice but close enough.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

I don’t think I’m ever going to do anything with this as far as putting it on AO3 goes, but I also don’t want to just keep sitting on it forever. So, in honor of Tears of the Kingdom’s release and the fact that it now thoroughly owns my ass, here are character descriptions I wrote for all the main characters of my Breath of the Wild AU fic (I tried to make them sound like the way characters and missions etc are described in the game, and I so wish I could draw fun portraits to go along with each one 😅 ah well, have the descriptions at least! They’re done in order of appearance within the fic.)

—//—

THE OLD MAN - A mysterious man dressed in white. He seems to know you, though his tale is light on personal details.

LAN QIREN - [The Old Man] The former leader of the Gusu Lan. Now stationed at the Yiling Burial Mounds to oversee the Hero’s recovery, his task has been to maintain the wards around the mountain and in doing so protect both the Hero and his people from the dangers of the lingering ghosts. Uncle to the Twin Jades Zewu-Jun and Hanguang-Jun, and Grand-Uncle to the current Gusu Lan Sect Leader.

WEN NING - The Ghost General. A young, soft spoken man dressed in black, with veins of resentful energy climbing his neck. His nervous mannerisms don’t quite hide the sense of power and inhuman strength that is characteristic of many Wen cultivators. The Ghost General has a habit of appearing unexpectedly and in utter silence, though usually with some sort of helpful hint to share. Brother to Wen Qing.

WEN QING - The Ghost Doctor. A quick and fiercely intelligent young woman who wields her doctors’ instruments like daggers. Though not as physically imposing as her brother Wen Ning, her sharp tongue more than makes up the difference. Once Wen Ruohan’s primary physician, there are no higher authorities on the effects of resentful energy poisoning. Sister to Wen Ning.

LAN JINGYI - Gusu Lan’s first disciple. Lan Jingyi is known and loved for his boisterous good humor and unfailing, lifelong commitment to minor acts of mischief. A member of the self-proclaimed Young Immortals, he earned immortality as a young man during a fight against the wakening Yiling Laozu less than two decades after the Scourge.

LAN SIZHUI - The current Gusu Lan Sect Leader is known by cultivators and civilians alike for his gentle demeanor and clear sense of justice without cruelty. A member of the self-proclaimed Young Immortals, he cultivated immortality as a young man under his father’s and uncle’s tutelage. He took up the mantle of Sect Leader following Zewu-Jun’s retreat into seclusion to pilot the Lan Divine Beast, Shuoyue.

LAN XICHEN - Also known as Zewu-Jun, Lan Xichen is Gusu Lan’s former Sect Leader and the current pilot of Divine Beast Shuoyue. His power and control are unmatched in the cultivation world by any except his brother, the famed Hanguang-Jun. As the de facto leader of the four Champions, Zewu-Jun arranged the sworn brotherhood between himself, Jin Guangyao, and Nie Mingjue, and suggested Jiang Wanyin for the fourth Champion. He cultivated immortality upon creating a spiritual bond with the other Champions and sharing their qi to begin piloting their Divine Beasts full-time some seventy years ago.

OUYANG ZIZHEN - A spirited, handsome youth who travels the world to find inspiration for his paintings and interesting news to share with his mentor. Prone to fits of romantic fantasy, he also has a habit of spinning wild tales that help him sell his work wherever he goes. A member of the self-proclaimed Young Immortals, he cultivated immortality under Nie Huaisang’s tutelage, though neither of them will reveal how it was accomplished.

NIE HUAISANG - Current leader of the Qinghe Nie. He’s enthusiastically friendly, as many Nie are, though unlike the rest of his Sect Nie Huaisang is physically unassuming. Though notorious for not engaging with Sect matters any more than necessary, his care for his people and ability to respond perfectly to any crisis has endeared him such that no one has once challenged his position as leader of the most war-ready Sect. He is the youngest of the Sunshot Immortals, though it remains unclear when or how he cultivated his immortality.

NIE MINGJUE - Also known as Chifeng-Zun, Nie Mingjue is the former leader of the Qinghe Nie and the current pilot of Divine Beast Baxia. His deep sense of justice and prowess in battle is well known by cultivators and civilians alike. Despite being the eldest of the sworn brotherhood, he has never questioned Lan Xichen’s right to lead the Champions in the fight against Yiling Laozu. He is a powerhouse of qi for the other three, though his connection with resentful energy is a hidden weak point that threatens all four Champions should he become overwhelmed by the fierce saber spirit Baxia.

JIN LING - The heir to Lanling Jin and the current temporary leader of Yunmeng Jiang. Jin Ling takes his position as his uncle’s steward on the Lotus Throne very seriously, very rarely allowing outsiders to interfere in Sect matters. He’s a proud young man who does not accept help easily, though he will bend, on occasion, for his friends. The youngest member of the self-proclaimed Young Immortals, Jin Ling cultivated immortality with the help of his uncle before taking up the mantle of Acting Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang.

JIANG WANYIN - Also known as Sandu Shengshou, Jiang Wanyin is the leader of Yunmeng Jiang and pilot of Divine Beast Sandu. Though younger than the rest of the Champions, he has a fearsome reputation perfectly matched by his lightning-quick temper and brutal intolerance for wickedness. Under his rule, the wild and free spirited Jiang have also become fiercely independent, (nearly to their detriment).

JIN GUANGSHAN - As Chief Cultivator, his Excellency has ruled the cultivation world since the aftermath of the Sunshot Campaign. Though the other leaders of the Great Sects elected to create their Divine Beasts and become Champions, Jin Guangshan abstained and elected his son for the honor instead - a move which many in the cultivation world criticized, but his position has remained too secure for their grumbling to change much.

XUE YANG - A young man once devoted to revenge who was turned into a fierce corpse in a poor imitation of the original work of the Yiling Laozu in reanimating Wen Ning. He was set loose in the dungeons beneath Jinlintai as a means to torment Jin Guangyao, his resentments and never ending thirst for revenge driving him to seek out his once-savior wherever he may be hiding.

JIN GUANGYAO - Also known as Lianfang-Zun, Jin Guangyao is Jin Guangshan’s right hand - and the only illegitimate child the Lanling Jin Sect Leader is willing to formally acknowledge. Of the four Champions, his core is the weakest, but what he lacks in formal training he makes up for with cunning and ruthless efficiency. Despite his father’s attempts to drive him to madness, Jin Guangyao has not only kept (enough of) his sanity to remain in control of his Divine Beast Hensheng, but also remains the best strategist of the cultivation world. Jin Guangyao cultivated immortality alongside his fellow Champions upon pooling their qi to pilot their Beasts seventy years ago.

MO XUANYU - A young boy who was whisked away from the uncertain care of his mother’s family to live and train in Jinlintai. His fascination with Demonic Cultivation saved him from expulsion when he showed little talent for traditional methods, but it was also ultimately his downfall. Mo Xuanyu sacrificed his life to give his core and the energy of his body to the Hero of Time to aid in his resurrection. What remains of him is now the Demon corrupting Divine Beast Hensheng and tormenting the Jin Champion, Jin Guangyao.

LAN WANGJI - Also known as Hanguang-Jun, Lan Wangji was the first of the Champions to retreat into seclusion when it became clear that the Tiger Amulet would only grow stronger with time. He has kept Yiling Laozu’s creation carefully suppressed as much as possible without destroying it, though only he knows that its continued existence has been a conscious choice. In the years since the beginning of his seclusion, he has become something of a deity to the local people protected by his sacrifice; each city, town, and village contains at least one shrine dedicated to Hanguang-Jun which the civilians pray to for strength.

[dianight]

Let's talk about transandrophobia. And by that I mean let me monologue about my findings browsing the tag and checking related blogs.

For context, most of my (second hand) interactions with it are from additions to the posts of transfeminists where random people antagonize them. Also from knowledge about how a certain user who helped popularize the term and gets referenced on posts about it (and other adjacent pawns) just happens to be a piledriver for callouts that just happen to target trans women. So you will excuse me for being biased and not going into this with a naive mindset.

And I will say that I've engaged with this in significantly more good faith than it deserves. My hope was that perhaps most people using the term were doing it out of ignorance and not malicious intent. I haven't really "counted" or done any actual note taking for this, it's more of a general observation that coalesced over a few days after I did all that digging so numbers are rough estimates and not accurate numbers. I checked about 50 pages on both "latest" and "top" on the tag, aswell as checking the recommended blogs.

Ignoring certain users who use the tag to highlight how absurd the mere concept of it is, since it's just mainly one woman having fun(?) cluttering (neutral) the tag and a few others mocking posts about it; we can roughly put the people who talk about transandrophobia in 3 groups. There is potential for overlap and I reiterate, my good faith is going to skew this toward a more positive vision than reality.

The first group are mostly trans men and a few trans women who would define transandrophobia as transphobia targeted at trans men, which is not at all what the term means nor what its history or actual use is. This group was around 30-40% of the posts, but one has to keep in mind that this was from going over the posts with the tag on their blogs. Posts that would talk about their experiences being the targets of transphobia and calling it transandrophobia.

Not to sound condescending, but getting treated differently to your cis peers (before coming out OR even knowing you are trans), pushback against your transition and toward the closet, bureaucratic hurdles and general hostility to being "the other" is not a transmasc exclusive thing and it's in fact "just" transphobia. Even the supposedly unique to trans men experience of having issues with reproductive health... also happens to trans women, it's the general transphobia of medical professionals. It manifests in different ways, that's it.

Most of the transmascs on this group seem to be under the impression that transandrophobia is an analogous term to transmisogyny that simply describes the targeted transphobia to transmascs and transfems respectively. I understand their posts and it was painful to read many of them, but ultimately what they describe is called transphobia. Most of the (few) transfems on this group were making additions in defense/support of trans men on those same previous posts.

That's as good as it gets though. I really hope the 30-40% estimate is real because the alternative is grim, and as a disclaimer I have (over time) blocked a massive amount of those users who go on posts about transmisogyny to start fights. Those hostile users are very likely to use the tag and be part of the second or third groups, which means that accounting for all the people I've blocked the first group percentage is likely to be <30%.

The second group are cryptoterfs. Or alternatively, people with ideas so bioessentialist that they are indistinguishable from cryptoterfs. I have found only two blogs that were openly "gc" and straight up interacting with open terfs, but many of them had their rethoric and semirelated posts all over and sometimes even the recommended blogs would give it away. Possibly 10% of the tag users belong to this group.

The main giveaway beyond the previous ones seems to be a really transphobic view that what trans men experience as transphobia is really just misogyny. So when they experience that misogyny as trans men it's called transandrophobia. Don't ask me what logic this is, but I've seen it repeated on their blogs so whatever is going on in their brains they seem to commonly agree that trans men are "just" experiencing misogyny. The obvious implication always, always being that trans men are women, a very transphobic idea.

There were some users who are part of the previously mentioned overlap. They will have some posts that tangentially allude at that trans men = women idea but never quite reblog or interact or expand those transphobic views. But they would also be part of the third group.

The third group are transmisogynists. No other way to put it. And I don't mean it in the casual way, we are all kind of transmisogynistic due to society and that's it; I mean it in the openly in opposition to transfeminists and actively spreading hateful and harmful rethoric kind of way. More than half the users of the tag are part of this group.

It's a key difference but a very telling one; where the first group talked about their experiences and how they are affected by transphobia (incorrectly labeling it) the third group engages in reactionary behaviors, always blaming/harassing/critizicing transfeminists posts. It's a genuinely weird feeling to see a post you agree with, along the lines of "men benefit from patriachy" and the "critique" from these users being "how dare these [insert misgendering term] insinuate that trans men are oppressing them".

Reading anything in bad faith, calls for "unity" while at the same reblogging from and interacting with known callout spearheads, honestly shocking hostility to trans women all over their posts and a general very open opposition to any transfeminist theory. Like I was genuinely speechless at some of the posts.

Literally calling random trans women transphobic. Screenshots without context to make it seem like the OP is saying the literal opposite of what she was saying. Congratulatory posts about getting people banned. Straight up callouts.

And I was hoping that the first group would be the majority, with a few bad apples and the expected bad actors.

My conclusion is very simple. Stop using the term transandrophobia. It has no good faith uses, what trans men experience is transphobia since misandry is not a real structural force and misogyny is. Most of its users are hostile to and a danger to trans women in this website, and somehow terf rethoric is generally accepted by them.

Transandrophobia doesn't exist.

[picardsims]

fridge decor set

After working on it on and off between other projects, I present another small CC decor set -- this time inspired by me spending an hour arranging clutter on the fridge everytime I build something. No more. This is a set of 9 pieces -- the main clutter set is a regular clutter object that can be placed on the floor. I think it still allows the fridge to be used (I tested a previous version and don't think anything has changed since then). Every other object snaps to walls and corkboards. The main set is separated into 5 pieces: - animal magnet (10 bear swatches, koala, pig and frog swatches) - heart magnet (30-something swatches) - whiteboard (36 swatches with 9 frame colours) - notes (6 swatches) - postcards (12 swatches) I was going to make another set but I don't feel like it, so I'm uploading the items here: - the towel has 60 swatches (15 colors in 4 patterns) - receipts have 15 swatches, iirc - calendar has 24 swatches (12 months, clean and with scribbles)

|| download HERE (Google Drive link) ||

as usual, feel free to recolor, edit, whatever, just don't put it behind a paywall and PLEASE tag me if you use this and have any screenshots. I will print them out and hang them over my bed

[theminecraftbee]

so i've been seeing this occasionally in the tags lately and i thought i'd bring up:

if you want someone to click or reblog your fic link you cannot simply post a link to the fic with either no description or a single sentence of description. if you do not put something beyond a link and a sentence, no one is going to click it.

part of this is basic internet safety (don't click links if you don't know where they're supposed to go), but a large part of this is that you have to catch someone's attention to make them click and leave the page they're on! people, in general, aren't going to click a link that doesn't interest them. you should interest them! so, how do you do that?

put some kind of image above your link in your post. this is BY FAR the most certain way to get reblogs and catch people's eye, but it's also the most time-consuming if you aren't already good at edits or art yourself. moodboards, little edited headers, or gifs can help you here (depending on fandom). art you've made yourself or have permission to use is absolutely the best option here, but it's by far the most time-intensive and difficult. full disclosure: i don't do this! that's because i am absolutely pants as a visual artist, even in the realm of editing or selecting gifsets. but if you have this skill and are sad your fics aren't getting attention on tumblr, this could be a potential answer!

write a summary and some kind of note with the link. there's a slightly cluttered cheat way to do this later in the list, but personally i find that formatting your fic post yourself is the best way to make these posts look good. i normally go fic link (making sure the link embed has the title) - summary of fic beneath that in a blockquote - an author's note about what to expect beneath that summary. however, everyone has different standards for how to do this! some people i know like to make sure tags and rating are present; some do not. some put some of this information beneath a cut; some do not. the main key here is to make sure there's just enough information above the cut in the main post that if i, a stranger, am browsing the tag and find your fic, i have enough information to know if it's something i might be interested in! i can always click to see the ao3 tags if i am intrigued, so it doesn't need to be all the information. just enough to catch my eye!

just post the whole fic to tumblr, including a link at the top or bottom. this is the most efficient non-art way to get notes on a fic you post, since, unlike a link with a description, a tumblr user doesn't have to leave the website to read and decide if they're interested or like it enough to reblog. however, there are two downsides. the first is that the fic almost always has to be short (~2k words if you use a cut, less if you don't), since most tumblr users aren't using the website expecting to read a bunch. the second is that doing this will mean most of your fic's readers likely will read it from tumblr, rather than following the fic to ao3. which, you may not care! i certainly don't when it comes to the ficlets i write directly to tumblr. however, it means i really don't recommend doing this with a multichapter fic.

use ao3's share button to automatically make a tumblr post. fics on ao3 have a "share" button, located above the tags and summary. this has a tumblr option, which you can then use to automatically post the fic link to tumblr. this is a bit cluttered since it includes all of the tags from the fic, alongside the full summary, rating, wordcount, etc. personally, i would then edit a little to remove some of that information so that it's more eyecatching and less overwhelming, but if you don't want to, that's also fine! that is still almost always going to be better than posting the link by itself with a single sentence to describe it, and isn't half-bad formatting-wise.

finally, you'll note my posts for ongoing chapters aren't normally given this treatment or fandom tags (although i almost always include a summary of some kind on them). this is because i generally don't want people finding my fic for the first time from a random chapter in the middle. i don't mind if they do, but i'm not going to spam the tag and i'm not going to make THAT much of an effort to make the post appealing. new chapters are things that might tell one of my followers that there's an ongoing fic they should look out for, and tell my current readers and followers that there's, well, a new chapter, but generally they aren't going to hook people. however, if you post chapters a lot more infrequently than i do, or if you simply have the energy to, there's nothing stopping you from applying these to chapter posts as well!

the thing is: look, at the end of the day, i agree with people who say you should write for yourself. how many notes you get isn't a big deal, i promise; the most important feeling is, ultimately, the feeling you get when you finish something and know you made it with your own hands. some of my favorite writing achievements are NOT my most popular, but are my favorites for reasons entirely unrelated to popularity. however, i see a lot of writers bemoaning how badly their fic posts do, when their fic posts are the ao3 embed and a single sentence that reads "this is my new fic enjoy"; the thing is, there are things you can do to make that link into something that someone is more likely to read and/or reblog! (i know i personally don't like reblogging links if i don't know their contents for the aforementioned internet safety reasons.)

just because you write for yourself doesn't mean that you can't give yourself a little leg up in finding your audience. it's worth it both for yourself and your readers, i promise.

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Feeling you 2

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: this was planned as one shot, but the story doesn't let go of me. So as promised Part 2 is ready and there will be Part 3 coming soon if nothing extraordinary happens. You know me already - if there is not a healthy portion of angst it's probably not my story 😉

Warnings: angst, heartbreak

Word Count: 3,6 K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius@hb8301@zillahvathek@alexagirlie@gemini-mama @verenahx@mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

Eanflaed's voice, both comforting and irritating, pierced through your consciousness, pulling you back to the dimly lit main room of the old alehouse. “You are dreaming again,” she said. Your friend busied herself at the counter, cluttered with empty ale mugs, and leaned forward on her elbows, waiting for you to wash and refill them.

“You need to put an end to this”, she insisted, striving to capture your attention, though she knew you were hardly in a state to listen. Persistent as always, Eanflaed never ceased trying. You knew she meant only good for you and she was right, and you loved her for that with all your heart. Eanflaed had always been the bastion of reason, a reliable friend in the gravest situations. Someone you deeply trusted.

“You realise he won't come back to you. We've all been through it. Falling in love with a client can’t have a happy ending,” she added, placing her hand on yours, compelling you to pause and meet her gaze.

“I know, and I’m not in love,” you mumbled, averting your eyes as a surge of warmth tinged your cheeks, “I just can't shake him from my mind. It's foolish, but I can't help it. Sometimes, I wish for them to return, and for him to simply overlook me, choosing another for the night. Then, at least, I'd be certain he's forgotten me. It would hurt, but I'd finally know it's over. I'd understand that there was never anything between us in the first place."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Eanflaed's voice softened. "When I asked you to hump him, I was just trying to help you get over it, to move forward. He seemed so sweet and somehow lost and I thought that maybe he could snap you out of this funk you've been in since that bastard... well, you know." Eanflaed's words halted abruptly under your stern gaze. "I'm sorry," she murmured, releasing your hand.

You finished filling the mugs, ale frothing at the brim, and Eanflaed quickly picked them up, heading back to the few guests at the tables. You let your palms glide over the rugged and worn surface of the old, cracked wooden counter, feeling its grooves and notches, the sensation under your fingers strangely calming. Noticing an ale splash, you grabbed a rag to clean it up. Keeping busy always helped you stay grounded, stopped your mind from wandering too much. It was a quiet evening. 

It had been half a year since you last saw Sihtric, but for some reason, you couldn't get him out of your head. You just couldn't shake off the memories - that soothing feeling of his warm body pressed against yours, his strong arms wrapped around your naked frame, holding you tight as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go, that gentle touch of his lips on your neck, the tickling sensation of his breath against your skin. But above all his big, expressive eyes, the look in them tinged with inexplicable sorrow mixed with youthful eagerness and goodness were etched in your memory. 

He had asked your permission to stay with you, even though he knew he didn’t have to, as Uhtred had paid for the whole night. He had carefully tucked the blanket around both of you, his legs entwining with yours, enveloping you in his presence and leaving no space between your bodies. You could still almost feel his fingers tracing a gentle path from your shoulder down to your palm, interlacing with yours as he whispered a soft “Thank you,” in your ear, and his steady heartbeat coupled with his even breathing had lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in two years. 

Morning had arrived with loud knocks and Uhtred's brusque voice demanding the horses be readied. Startled, Sihtric leapt from the bed, his cheeks colouring as he scrambled to dress, muttering under his breath while struggling with the stubborn laces of his breeches.

You had watched him from the bed's warmth, a strange lump forming in your throat. With each passing moment you realised that this was the end. The end of what? Your mind was harshly insistent there hadn’t been anything. You had humped the young and handsome  warrior. It was nothing special. It was what whores do for money. And you had been in this trade far too long to know it better.

Closing your eyes, you sank back into the pillow,  the last thing you wanted was to watch Sihtric hurry out of the room. You were certain he wouldn't look back. Why would he? But just as you braced for the definitive sound of the door closing, you felt a weight settle on the edge of the bed. Your eyes fluttered open just as Sihtric's lips hesitantly brushed your forehead. 

A shy smile played on his lips. “I have to leave now,” he said, and you couldn't discern if his voice held a hint of regret or sadness, or if it was just your imagination. “Can I… will I see you again, if we… when we return?” Sihtric's voice wavered slightly with his last words. Was it due to the uncertainty of his future, or a genuine desire to see you again? You tried to speak, but no words came out, choked by the lump in your throat. Instead, you just nodded and exhaled sharply as Sihtric's lips met yours in a brief, tender kiss.

You had so much you wanted to say – to wish him luck, to say how much you enjoyed the night with him, to tell him you'd be waiting. Thoughts swirled in your mind, but your voice failed you as you watched him walk towards the door, turning for one last, lingering glance before leaving.

And since then, you waited, though you weren't sure for what. What could you expect if he did return? “Nothing,” your mind whispered, while your heart screamed, “Everything!” Deep down, you knew it was a lost cause. He had probably forgotten you the moment he left town, or at least by the next alehouse with its array of young, charming girls. Yet, each time the doors of the old alehouse creaked open and men entered, your eyes involuntarily searched among them, your heart racing with hope.

"Sigefried's here again, asking for you to join him at their table. What should I tell him?" Eanflaed queried with a teasing grin, returning with a batch of empty mugs.

"Just say I can't," you replied tersely, bracing yourself against the counter with your hands and shooting a challenging look at your friend.

"He's a decent man, and he's taken a liking to you. His wife passed away last year," Eanflaed pressed on, oblivious to your brooding expression.

"That's precisely it. Barely a year since her death and he's already on the hunt for someone new," you retorted sharply, your voice laced with disdain.

"Hey, go easy on him. He's only human, not a saint. And in his defence, he's only had eyes for you. Never once has he chosen another girl here. I think his visits are just to see you," Eanflaed whispered, trying to persuade you. "I'm not suggesting you to hump him. Just be courteous and say hello."

"I'm really not feeling up to it today," you replied, turning away and glancing towards the back chamber behind the counter. "Ealfwin, could you take over? I need a break," you called to the young girl in the doorway, who was surveying the room. She nodded in acknowledgment. You left your apron on the counter, which Ealfwin picked up as you made your way to the door.

You shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as the cool evening air brushed against you, a stark contrast to the house's cosy warmth. Rubbing your upper arms to ward off the chill, you hesitated before stepping outside. Heading towards the stables just around the corner, you found comfort in the familiar scent of fresh straw and the soft sounds of horses snorting. Leaning against one of the stable poles, you took a deep breath, soaking in the tranquil hush of the approaching night.

The sound of the main door creaking open and footsteps drawing near reached your ears. Without turning, you knew who it was.

"Uh... erm... good evening. Sorry, I hope I'm not intruding," a deep, resonant voice broke the silence as you slowly turned to face the man now beside you, his figure casting a shadow in the light spilling from the alehouse. "I was wondering... about my offer... have you thought about it?" he asked, stepping closer.

You remained silent.

"I realise it might seem rushed, but as I've mentioned, I find you very appealing, and I'm in need of a wife to manage the household and care for the children. My estate isn't large, but it's sufficient for all my needs and more. With me, you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again," Sigefried spoke with a measured, casual tone, but his words sent a shiver down your spine.

He had calmly and logically presented his proposal a week ago, urging you to consider it. And you had given it thought. The offer was undeniably tempting – a roof over your head, freedom from the worry about which meal you have to leave out today, or about your clothing slowly turning to tatters with no money to replace them. 

It wasn't about love or affection; it was a deal, pragmatic and sensible. It was a polite way of asking you to sell yourself, and the price he offered was more than fair for someone in your position. It was an escape to a different life, one you had often dreamt of – a life filled with esteem and reasonable wealth, a life where you would be attending church on Sundays instead of scrubbing mugs in an alehouse. Yet, in this new life, under the guise of a wife's respectability, you would still be selling your body, just as before. You would still be a whore, only with a different title, and that until your dying day.

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you leaned your head against the pole, closing them. A gentle breeze played through your loose hair, and you felt your fingers tremble as you adjusted your dress, bracing yourself to the cruel truth that there was no other life for you, you were trapped in your own dreams and the cold misery of this world and there was no escape for you. 

"I... I've thought about it," you stammered, your breath quickening with each word. Sigefried reached out, taking your hand in his and gently lifting it to his lips. The confidence in his gaze made you swallow hard. He understood the appeal of his offer, assured in its allure. There was no malice in his eyes, only lust mingled with cold calculation – and that was the final push in your decision, one that had been resolute from the start. You knew this was a choice you might regret.

You parted your lips to speak, but before a word could escape, Sigefried's lips pressed forcefully against yours, eliciting a surprised gasp. You remained immobile, spellbound, as Sigefried's greedy lips moved over yours. Shock rendered you unable to respond, while a growing sense of disgust churned in your stomach, absorbing all your other senses so that you even failed to notice the figure of a young man, halted in his steps, clutching a bunch of flowers, his gaze fixed intently on you and Sigefried.

—-------------------------------------

Sihtric stood motionless, unable to avert his gaze from you and the man who had just proposed to you, now kissing you with such intensity. Time seemed to slow down as he observed you both, completely absorbed in each other, oblivious to the world around. With a concerted effort, he finally managed to look away. His eyes fell to the flowers he clutched, and a wave of heat rushed to his cheeks, flooding him with embarrassment.  Flowers. He couldn't help but think how silly it was to come here with flowers.

His hand opened, letting them slip through his fingers and tumble to the ground, while his eyes followed their swirl in the air before landing in the dirt. An urgent need to escape washed over him, to flee before the overwhelming heaviness in his chest became too much to bear. Stepping over the now-crushed blossoms, Sihtric silently turned and continued his way, each step feeling heavier than the last. Reaching the door, he paused, inhaling deeply to steady his rapid heartbeat, then pushed it open, alehouse's raucous laughter and loud voices hitting him as he entered.

Uhtred and Finan, sitting at a table at the room's far end, were easily spotted, their laughter ringing out.

"Look who's here! Our lovesick warrior," Finan greeted with a teasing smirk as Sihtric approached. "Tell us, Sihtric, did you finally confess your undying love to the alehouse beauty?"

Uhtred placed a cautious hand on Finan’s shoulder, his eyes noting the miserable, lost expression on Sihtric’s face, his cheeks flushing and fists clenching, as he slumped onto the bench, burying his face in his hands.

"I need a drink," came Sihtric's hoarse voice. He reached for the ale mug Uhtred slid towards him. "And... and I need a woman," he added, setting the now-empty mug back on the table with a thud after a couple of hearty gulps. 

Finan's face shifted from amusement to concern as he shared a worried glance with Uhtred.

"What's up? Did you see her?" Finan asked, his tone now serious.

Sihtric tried to speak, but words escaped him as the image of you and Sigefried locked in that intense kiss replayed in his mind again and again, each time like a fresh wound to his heart. He was not angry at you; he was angry at himself for being unable to forget you, to move on from you. 

He had made every effort. He had tried to erase the memory of your deep, sorrowful, yet captivating eyes, and had sought to quell his yearning for your soft, tender touch in the embrace of other women. But nothing had worked. Something about you had ensnared him from the very first moment your eyes met. There had been something so familiar yet intangible in the way you spoke to him, the way you touched him, that lingered in his memory, impossible to shake off and forget. 

He had felt safe with you and he had felt loved. Yes, loved – he had felt a genuine care and acceptance of who he was, emanating from you, a feeling he thought long forgotten and buried together with the only person who he knew had truly cared for and loved him.

He understood that he had no right to expect anything from you, but deep down, he had hoped that unique bond he had sensed – that understanding and shared feeling of each other’s unspoken pain and sorrow  – wasn't just a delusion conjured by his imagination. He longed for it to be real, mutual. This feeling had ignited a relentless flame within him, driving him forward, guiding him in the battle, consuming his thoughts and breathing new life in him. He had never experienced that feeling again, regardless of how young, beautiful, or eager to please the other girls were. This flame had driven him to return to you, it had carried him, made him fight like a madman, spurned him and given him wings to fly. 

Yet he had arrived too late. And even if he hadn't, what could he possibly offer you? How could he rival the proposal he had just overheard? You deserved the security and prosperity that the other man was offering, and he would rather cut his own hand than attempt to deprive you of it, even if it meant leaving his heart bleeding. 

"I'm such a fool," Sihtric finally managed to utter, his hand tightening around the ale mug.

"Hey, that's how it goes sometimes, lad. We tried to warn you, but you wouldn't hear it. She's an alehouse girl, Sihtric. You couldn't have seriously expected her to wait for you for half a year," Uhtred said, placing a comforting hand on his younger friend’s shoulder. 

"Thank goodness there's no shortage of beautiful women around," Finan chuckled, his smile broadening as he watched a group of giggling girls emerge from the back room, making their way to the guests. 

It was that time again and the room was full of freshly arrived warriors, signalling a potentially profitable night. 

—------------------------------------------

Your heart pounded like thunderous drum beats in your ears as you flung open the doors, bursting into the alehouse's now noisy main room.You had been away for no more than half an hour and within this short time the quiet and drowsy alehouse had morphed into a bustling hive, filled with energy and noise. 

Your hands trembled, the vivid memory of the recent moments still fresh in your mind. You had slapped Sigefried with all your might, pushed him away in revulsion, and fled. The image of his stunned, confused expression lingered in your mind – his hands reaching out to you, his voice calling your name, offering apologies. But you didn't look back; you just ran, driven by an overwhelming need to return to the safety of the alehouse, to escape his grasp, to avoid his presence. 

Your gaze swept quickly over the buzzing main room as you made your way to the counter, trying to dodge Eanflaed's sharp glare.

"What took you so long? Where have you been? We're swamped with guests. Uhtred and his men are back, can't you see? I need you here," Eanflaed's words washed over you forcefully. Your heart seemed to leap into your throat as you spun around, scanning the crowded room. Then, you saw him.

There he was, seated at the far end, his laughter cutting through the din and loud chatter, his arm comfortably draped around the waist of a girl you instantly recognised  as Ealfwin, nestled in his lap and whispering something in his ear. Your hands clutched the counter, a desperate anchor as your knees weakened.

Try as you might, you couldn't tear your eyes away. They were fixed on that familiar, handsome face, those broad shoulders, and muscular arms highlighted by his sleeveless armour, pulled in by the sound of his infectious laughter echoing through the room. 

He had changed. That insecure, shy, hunched over and sad-eyed boy, who once tried to stay hidden and mask his true strength, was gone. In his place sat a formidable warrior, exuding confidence and self-assurance, adorned with golden rings on his fingers and armbands around his wrists. 

A soft gasp slipped from your lips as you took in the sight of him, completely unaware of your presence, entirely focused on the girl in his embrace. He cupped her chin with his fingers and drew her into a fervent kiss. Ealfwin giggled, playfully withdrawing from his lips, her fingers tantalisingly trailing down his arm, while her other hand playfully tousled his hair. Sihtric chuckled again, pushed his ale mug aside, and stood up, effortlessly lifting Ealfwin onto his shoulder, making her laugh and wiggle with her feet, as he made his way towards the stairs that led to the upper chambers.

In that brief moment, as he passed by, your eyes locked with his. You felt rooted to the spot, mesmerised by those deep eyes casually glancing at you, flickering with a playful spark, yet showing no sign of recognition.

“Where’s the ale?” a gruff voice from a nearby table cut through the air, as Eanflaed nudged you sharply with her elbow.

“Snap out of it,” she whispered urgently, “Now you know…,” she trailed off, but you were no longer listening. Gasping, you spun around and hurried towards the door. You barely managed to stumble down the few steps as you felt your guts revolting and overcome by the nausea you bent over to vomit the scant contents of your stomach. Time blurred as you stood there, cold sweat beading on your forehead, your body convulsively heaving.

Feeling hands gently gathering your dishevelled hair and steadying your trembling shoulders, you realised it was Eanflaed, preventing you from collapsing to the ground.

"Come on, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," Eanflaed's soft, familiar voice grounded you. You grasped her arms, looking up into her eyes filled with compassion, your own tearful gaze brimming with gratitude as you realised your friend had simply left her bustling alehouse and its demanding guests to be by your side. Eanflaed wrapped her arms around your shoulders, holding you firmly with a strength one would never suspect from her delicate frame, as she gently guided you to sit down on the steps, settling next to you.

“You deserve so much better,” she said, her smile tinged with sadness as she tenderly tucked your dishevelled hair behind your ear. “You're too sweet and kind for this harsh world.”

"Sigefried proposed to me tonight," you managed between sobs, "And I rejected him. I slapped him when he tried to kiss me. I just couldn't stand his touch, or the thought of anyone else touching me.”

“Oh, heavens. It just keeps getting more complicated,” Eanflaed sighed. “You need to rest and get through this night. Things always seem clearer in the morning. Come, I'll get a bed ready for you. And no, you're not going home alone in this state,” she stated firmly, cutting off any weak protest you might have had. In truth, you didn’t have the strength to argue. Nodding in agreement, you allowed Eanflaed to help you to your feet and guide you gently back inside.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[beepborpdoodledorp]

alright, I'm in need of a palate cleanser, TADC Episodes ranking because why not

Now that Episode 4's marked the (almost) halfway point of the show it's as good a time as any to do a personal ranking and also I want to procrastinate working on more angsty fanart as much as possible for my own sanity

Mystery of Mildenhall Manor

What is there that I can even add to this conversation, the episode is fucking stellar. Pomni and Kinger's dynamic is impeccable start to end and I'm a sucker for anything remotely resembling the found family trope so that just further elevates my opinion, and as both an avid Zooble enjoyer and a very un-cis person their subplot hit me hard. And oh my God, the hallway scene, it's still my single favorite moment in the entire show. The soundtrack, the atmosphere, the gorgeous visuals, the emotional build-up from the conversation beforehand, I want to just absorb the essence of this scene into my bone structure. I've watched this episode twice so far and both times the hallway scene almost made me cry. I'd recommend this in a heartbeat to someone who isn't even interested in TADC or the wider genres it belongs to, it's just that fucking good. 

2. Fast Food Masquerade

It is. Probably not that hard to figure out where I stand on this episode considering how much I've been annoying every TADC tag under the sun the past 72 hours. I absolutely adored this episode, was literally everything I wanted and more based on the promo material. I love Gangle, her storyline about hiding her depression hit way too hard, I love Zooble, I love Gangle and Zooble being gay as fuck, I love Ragatha being absolutely fried the entire episode, I love Jax showing three whole seconds of human decency. Gummigoo. Oh my God. With how much praise I just threw Episode 3's way it's probably weird to learn I actually think Episode 4 is an overall better episode (by a very thin margin, but still), it just gave us a lot more interactions and development with the group as a whole which is something we were mostly lacking in up until this point usually due to the group being separated at some point or another during an adventure. In all honesty if Episode 3 didn't have the hallway scene I'd probably put it in this spot, but it does and the hallway scene fucks so Episode 4 is down here. 

3. Candy Carrier Chaos

Again, what can I even add to this conversation. A great expansion after our first taste of TADC, Gummigoo solos, I love sentient AIs undergoing existential crises as they come to terms with the implications of their existence. My one major complaint (which I had back when the episode first released and it's just been amplified with the last two episodes' releases) is just that we don't get much content of any of the main cast besides Pomni, their interactions are surface-level and don't offer us basically anything new from what we saw of them in the pilot. But that also wasn't what the episode was about so I can mostly give it a pass.

4. PILOT

The pilot was a very good jumping off point for the series and is decent as a standalone, but after rewatching it about a month or two back I don't think it's aged all that well. Again, it's still a perfectly fine watch and does its job of setting up all the stepping stones for the series, but the best way I can describe the pilot is…cluttered. It's just a lot of information and events you need to fit into one twenty-minute episode, so most of the episode goes at a breakneck pace in between a lot of back-to-back jokes that sometimes miss the mark (mostly the fault of Caine, I love him but he is definitely a character who is most effective in short bursts of screentime). You can definitely tell they were still trying to get a feel of things while making this episode and that's completely fine! It's a pilot, that's the whole point. Just doesn't really hold up when compared to its successors.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — ASTRONAUT! GOJO x MISSION CONTROL! FEM READER

Your job description entails taking care of one (1) astronaut on his way to Mars. It doesn’t say anything about falling in love with him. 

wc — 1.6k

tags — the beauty of space (and Gojo Satoru), rom com, fluff

When you’re assigned to Gojo Satoru, the first thing you hear is ‘good luck’. It’s Nanami who says it. You suppose he would have strong feelings, being one of the few men who were going up there with him. 

They’re in the news constantly now. Of course they would be - brave pioneers of the new frontier. The first men to attempt a Mars landing.

Even for you, who sees them every day, it’s hard not to get caught up in the mythos of it. Glory burns bright and beautiful around them, a halo born of the knowledge that they’ll someday be in history books. Maybe you’ll be there too, a footnote riding on the coattails of their fame. 

They take care of humanity’s future, and you take care of them. Mission Control doesn’t have the esteem the astronauts do, but your jobs are just as important. You’re proud of the work you do. 

Though sometimes, your work is just silly. He is, anyway. 

“Helloooooo? Mission Control, come in.” 

“You’re not supposed to use the main line for personal matters, Satoru,” you remind him, a smile twitching at your lips. Director Utahime thinks you’re too soft on him, but you can’t help it. It must be terrible to be stuck up there for months, even if he says he loves it. 

You’ve seen his interviews. Gojo Satoru, golden boy of the astrophysics department at one of the most prestigious universities in the world. A prodigy, the youngest ever Nobel laureate for his work in quantum particles and space time. 

When he first declared that he would be going on the Mars mission, the world erupted in an uproar. He had transformed an esoteric field of dusty archives and chalk formulas into something real people cared about and tuned into his radio show to hear, even if it originally started because people loved his charming face. 

It was too risky. No one wanted to lose such a young talent to the vast and uncaring cruelty of space. 

Gojo heard these concerns, shut down his radio show, and appeared outside headquarters the next day without an appointment.  

Some say he’s pushy. Some say he’s determined. Whatever they think, one thing is true. Gojo Satoru gets results, which is why administration always lets things slide when it comes to him. Even when he clutters up the main communication line trying to talk to you. 

“If you wanted to get me alone, you could just say so,” he jokes, before he switches over to your private comm. 

“Mhm,” you hum. You’re distracted, doing your daily check on his vitals. 

“Looking at my heart again?” 

“Yep! All good, though I’m going to ask you to take a double dose of vitamin c tomorrow.” 

“Come on,” he moans. “They’re terrible. You’d think with all the scientists we have they’d manage to make it taste a little more like actual oranges.” 

“You know how hard it is to make things that last in space,” you tell him. 

The thing about Gojo’s genius is that it’s hard for him to understand others. He can do anything if he puts his mind to it, so hearing ‘no’ and ‘it’s impossible’ simply doesn’t compute to him. It’s why he started his radio show, or so he told you. He dreams of teaching people to see the world through his eyes. 

His beautiful eyes. 

Your cheeks heat. That’s not something you should be thinking about, but lately, it’s been getting harder and harder. You spent almost all your time with him, after all. 

As much as you try to be professional, you’re not immune to his stunning beauty. You know the voice on the other end of the line belongs to an man whose features are nothing short of otherworldly. He could be a model if he wasn’t an astronaut. He could be anything, actually, but you know why he chose this. 

The first time you heard Gojo speak on space, you fell in love a little bit. With him and with the cosmos. 

He’s the one who teaches you that the stars we see are already dead and gone. That light and time are intertwined in ways you didn’t understand before, that the little pinpricks of gold in the distance have fizzled out years ago and are reaching you now only as a eulogy. 

You tuned into his radio show on a whim, wanting to get to know the man you’ll be working with better. You stayed because his love for the universe is magnetic. 

Gojo’s favorite thing about space is infinity. He was a proud supporter of the alien theory. There had to be some life out there, in that great vastness. Anything is possible in space, he says. There might even be a planet where he can float or unleash devastating destruction with just a flick of his fingers. 

Before long, you were listening to his voice explain worm holes and cosmic inflation any spare moment you got. He was with you on the commute to work and in the shower while you scrubbed your hair. It was Gojo’s voice that lulled you to sleep every night, slow and relaxing in his special bedtime series. 

So you’d known him long before you met him. In your first real interaction, where he was so quintessentially Gojo in a way that completely put Utahime off, you laughed. His eyes widened, surprised by your reaction, then his lips split in a toothy smile. 

“At least one of you has a sense of humor,” he quipped, making a lifelong enemy of Utahime and a lifelong friend of you. 

You’re the only one who can put up with him, so when Gojo had been chosen for Project Ares, you landed an adjacent job as his handler in Mission Control. You’d known you’d work on Project Ares for a while now, but not that you’d be working so closely with him, or that it would feel so right. 

Of course you would be his handler. It was as natural as Gojo becoming an astronaut, which you’d always known he’d manage. It’s Gojo, after all. He would go change the future of humanity, and you’d keep him tethered to Earth. 

It had been a relatively easy few years, for a space mission anyway. Anything short of death was considered optimal in those conditions. You hadn’t realized you’d miss him like this, however. All this time, and so much of it was only his voice. In a way, it was reminiscent of the days before you’d met, hearing a beautiful mind work through the radio. 

“Oh, Houston?” Gojo calls through the line, singsong. “We have a problem.” 

His lighthearted tone doesn’t deceive you. You’re up in a second. 

“Satoru? Satoru? Come on, talk to me. What is it? You okay up there?” 

“I’m experiencing heart pains,” he says, letting out a low grunt of pain. “Palpitations.” 

Your blood runs cold. 

Space is Gojo’s passion. You’re happy he gets to pursue it. But in these moments, you wish he’d never heard of astrophysics because in space, you can’t reach him. If he gets hurt, all you can do is talk to him. 

He’s said he appreciates it. 

“It’s nice, you know? Gives me something to listen to other than the voices already in my head.” 

“Should I schedule a virtual visit to the psychiatrist, Satoru?” 

You joke around, but you know that’s all you can be for him. A voice in his helmet. 

Your hands are creeping towards the switch that’ll open your communication line to Nanami. At least if something happens, Nanami can actually get to him. 

“Fuck,” Gojo whispers. You freeze. You’ve never heard him talk like this, his voice low and raspy with pain. “It hurts.” 

“Tell me where it hurts, honey,” you murmur back, your voice instinctively lowering into something syrupy and sweet. Comfort comes naturally to you. You’ve always been a doting personality. It’s part of why they chose you for this assignment, other than, as you learn later, Gojo’s insistence that you be his line to Earth. “It’s going to be okay.” 

“It aches, sort of?” Gojo says. “Happens when I hear- ugh.”

“Hear? Hear what? If you can’t tell me, I can’t help you, sweetheart.” You have no idea where these pet names are coming from, but they just burst out of your mouth, as if tenderness for him is uncontrollable. Is it because you’re scared it’ll end like this? The chance of whatever you feel for him dying unspoken terrifies you. You wish you’d told him sooner. 

“Happens when I hear your voice,” he says. Is that nervousness you detect in his voice? 

Suddenly you have a very clear idea of what he’s playing at. 

“Satoru,” you say very calmly. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to call Nanami and you can explain it to him.” 

A flurry of panicked noises on the other end. “No, wait, no, don’t do that! I can explain. Just. Give me a second.” 

Ragged breathing. 

“Okay,” he admits. “I didn’t think this through.”

“Satoru.” 

“I’m sorry! You know how I am!” 

You do. Which is why you’re not immediately calling Utahime over to reprimand him. 

“I was going to wait,” he says. “This isn’t very romantic.” 

“I would say that’s more because I thought you were going to die from a heart attack in space than anything else, but go on.” 

“Sorry,” he says. “I love you.”

You were half-expecting it. After all, he’s right - you do know him. Somehow his straightforwardness still catches you off guard so badly your knee jerks and slams right into your desk. It’ll leave a nasty bruise when you check in the shower later. Most things are too soft to be picked up by your mic, but that was definitely loud enough. 

“…You okay?” Gojo asks, hesitantly. 

“When you come back to Earth,” you explain to him in clipped tones, “I am going to gut you. Then we are going to go on a date.” 

[v1x3n]

૮ ྀི╥ ‸ ╥ ྀིა - FRANCIS FOREVER.

simon 'ghost' riley ⸝⸝ navigation ⸝⸝ depressed masterlist ୨୧ tags : angst

୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : based of the mitski song 'francis forever'

I don't know what to do without you. I don't know where to put my hands. The surroundings bore into the background, it's all one blur. Groaning and fumbling out of bed as I peek over to the bedside table to have a glimpse of my pinging phone. The blur of the morning sleep in my eyes gets wiped away, the burn from the previous night slowly increases while the phone now in my hands lights up in the dark room. I open up the notes app, merely to jot down a few thoughts, preventing them from cluttering my already overwhelmed heart.‘I've been trying to lay my head down. But I'm writing this at 3am.

I've been doing better though recently. Since the second incident I've learned to move on from the past. All though I could never move on from you. I used dangerously plenty of effort to prove that I'm improving from my past choices and trauma. But I don't need the world to see that anymore. I would think that I've been the best I can be, but I have a lot of lingering thoughts - nightmares, regrets and longings. Mostly it's all about you. I miss you dearly. If only I could express what I had wanted so long ago. I once needed validation from someone, anyone. But now I don't want it because the one person I ever only really needed it from was you and I don't think I could stand to be where you don't see me.’

Getting from the bedroom to the kitchen was almost a task, a chore your mam forced you to do. But I had to do it. As I sat down at the table, the one we used to eat at, it would be your favourite cereal or the stupid meals you had so badly made. But it was okay because it was you making them and I loved you. So your cooking was involved in that love, no matter how shitty it was. I find myself reflecting on the guidance my therapist provided on days like these. The journal barely hovered on the table, the pen next to it. Ready to write, she had advised me to buy a book and let out frustration. ‘On sunny days I go out walking’ it starts off with. The words of the journal bring alive my memory, reliving yesterday when I was let off work. I soon end up on a tree-lined street, the cars zooming down the road as I feel the gravity of the concrete below me. The hard floor pounds against my foot over and over as I catch my steps in. The beam of light glows down at me as I look up at the gaps of sunlight. 

I miss you more than anything.

People depart, time slips away, and then you're gone. You're gone. The journal sat untouched for a while, and as autumn arrives, when I'm not yet done with the self-blame, my bed is the place where all my thoughts and worries lie, never relieving itself from the depression and getting out into the outside world. With the summer passing by, but I don't think I could stand where you don't see me.

comment to join main taglist!

[agent-cupcake]

Éphémère

I’ve been attempting to fill short kinktober prompts with the Final Fantasy XIV cast to procrastinate the larger project I've been doing. We’ll see where it goes. Most of them are AU's of some kind idk.

Pairing: Aymeric de Borel x f!Reader Kink: Semi-public / Blowjob Tags: Explicit, light D/s dynamic, alternate universe: modern Word Count: 2.7k

“What are you doing here?” Aymeric asked, his blue eyes widening with surprise upon seeing who had been knocking. You hadn’t called, although you should have. You didn’t want to risk being turned away, to be told you couldn’t steal a few precious moments from his busy life. Besides, you had a good cause this time. 

Given that your hands were full, you shut the door with your foot. His office was the same as ever. It was not quite as grand as someone might expect, clearly inhabited by somebody who favored efficiency over aesthetics. The air smelled like him and the corporate scent of floor polish and new upholstery. While the blinds covering the windows facing Ishgard were wide open, those over the windows looking into the main office space were closed. It gave a very strong illusion of isolation and intimacy, like it was just you and him. Emboldened by that thought, you fixed Aymeric with as serious a stare as you could. 

“I heard that you’re working way too hard, and that your staff is worried about you,” you said, having decided upon a cold open approach so he couldn’t wriggle out of your accusations. “I’ve even heard that it’s putting you in a bad mood. The men are losing morale.” You waited a beat for his response, but he just looked at you, completely befuddled. Eventually, you prompted him with a prodding,“So?” 

“So… what?” Aymeric asked.

“Is any of that true?”

“True?” he repeated, his dark eyebrows pinching in the middle. “Ah, no…  No, it is not.” Aymeric finally forced a reassuring smile. He wasn’t very good at faking. “I appreciate the concern, but I am fine.” You gave him a doubtful look, slowly meandering over to his cluttered desk. There was nothing to be said, you both knew that you were right. He could try to downplay it all he liked, but even Aymeric had his limits. He sighed. “I cannot afford to take a break yet. I promise to rest once this matter is resolved. Perhaps I’ll take a day off. We’ll go somewhere—anywhere you wish.”

“We won’t be going anywhere after you work yourself into a nervous breakdown,” you told him flatly. 

“Please, don’t say such things. I promise that I will be fine.”

You sighed. “Either way, I brought you something to eat,” you said, setting the bag of takeout on the tiny bit of space left on his desk. “I had a feeling you skipped lunch.” 

“Lunch?” he asked, brow furrowing. “What time is it?”

“Past lunch.”

“I see. I must have lost track of the time, I… Thank you.” He placed a hand over yours and smiled, a real smile, and you felt your chest clench. Even overworked and exhausted, he was beautiful. Far more beautiful than any man had a right to be. “I dare not consider where I might be without you.” 

You smiled, even knowing it was a platitude. He was the most resilient person you had ever met, and one of the most solitary. Aymeric would be just as okay on his own as with you, but you liked the idea that he needed you, if only for a fleeting moment. You liked to think that there was something only you could give him, something of value. 

And, just like that, you came to the conclusion that he didn’t look like he needed a meal. He looked taut as a bow string and ready to snap, he looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked like he needed a bit more than lunch. 

“Hey, while I’m here, maybe…” you began, faltering with embarrassment as you tried to figure out the best way to phrase it. 

“Is there something else?” 

“I know there’s nothing I can say to make you take a break so I won’t ask. Still, I want to do something to brighten your day and honestly you look like you could use a pick-me-up,” you blurted out, speaking fast to keep your nerve. “I’ve thought about it before and I’m pretty sure I can fit under your desk,” you said, leaning forward to double check. Yeah, there was plenty of room. Three cheers for long legs. “Think of it as stress relief. Like a massage or something but, you know, with my mouth. What do you think?” 

Done with your awkward proposition, you looked back up at Aymeric with as innocent an expression as you could manage, meeting his eyes as if you hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. It was always hard to predict how he might react to any given situation, mostly it was a question of whether or not his Catholic guilt and relentless sense of propriety would win out, but you pretty well expected the way his mouth snapped shut, a muscle in his jaw ticking as his entire body went taut. 

And then slowly, carefully, “Are you…” 

“Offering to give you head in your office at three in the afternoon on a Thursday?” you finished for him. “Um… Yeah, I guess I am.”  

“I… I don’t think… That is,” he cleared his throat, “obscenity of that sort would be extremely inappropriate for a man in my position.”

“C’mon, are you going to tell me that you’ve never thought about it? Doing secret, naughty things is the best part of getting a big, isolated office with a big, roomy desk. Or so I’ve been told.” 

Aymeric swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to the door and back. “Even if I were comfortable with such an egregious breach in etiquette, it would be wrong of me to do so while everyone else is working so hard.” 

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” you argued. “If you work while you’re super stressed out, you won’t do as well, and you act all grumpy, and everybody is unhappy. If you take a teensy tiny little break to let me help you relax, you’ll work better, be nicer, and everybody will be happy... If you need an excuse, you can blame it all on me. You can say you got lured in by the irresistible charm of a succubus who would simply not take no for an answer.”  

He let out a single laugh, dry and nervous and humorless. “Is there any truth in that?” 

“I am pretty insatiable when it comes to you.”

Aymeric reached up to take hold of your chin, gently pulling your face towards his so you had no choice but to meet his eyes. And you knew that look. Conflict. Doubt. Desire.

“If you don’t want to, I’ll let it go,” you said. “But if it would make you feel better, I want to. I’d do anything… sir.” 

Aymeric’s expression hardened, his eyes darkening a shade, and it was a stare that demanded your submission. It was the kind of look that was usually followed with orders like remove your clothes or don’t move unless I say or open your legs or-

“Get on your knees.” Even half whispered, even though he always left enough space in his demands for you to deny him if you were truly uncomfortable, that wasn’t the sort of order you turned down. 

“Okay,” you said, your voice soft. His fingers squeezed your jaw a little bit tighter, his eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “Yes, sir,” you amended. Aymeric released your face and leaned back, watching as you fell to your knees. Although there was enough space under his desk for you to fit, crawling under it was kind of awkward. Good thing your skirt was flared, scrambling around like this in anything tight would have been impossible. 

“Is that okay?” he asked. “Should I move back?”

“No, sir. This is…” You breathed out, steadying yourself. “Perfect.”

Knowing you had a time limit, you undid his belt and the button of his pants, slowly pulling the zipper down. Aymeric was kind enough to shift his hips so you could push his trousers down and out of the way. Wanting to savor things at least a little, you traced the outline of his dick through the dark boxer briefs, feeling him harden beneath your touch. Aymeric’s hips shifted and he cleared his throat, prompting you to slip your fingers beneath the waistband to pull those down too. 

He wasn’t hard yet, but the choked noise Aymeric made and the way his hips jumped forward when you began to stroke his cock made you think that he wanted this at least almost as much as you did. He caught himself quickly afterwards. Always playing the stoic.

You realized early on in the relationship that, power dynamic notwithstanding, Aymeric was not the type of man to demand things of you sexually, at least not for his own pleasure. There was an element of trial and error to figure out what worked. It was all pretty complicated. So was he, for that matter. Pretty and complicated. 

Continuing to stroke the base, you paid your respects, kissing and licking your way across his cock. Every inch of him was perfect, though you could admit a preference for this particular part. Perfect, and, as you liked to think in your wildest moments, yours. Alternating between using just the tip of your tongue and the flat, you traced the veins running the length of his dick, following one along the underside until you reached the head, lavishing extra attention at the point where they met. You knew that got him, one of his hands finally finding its way to the top of your head. Humming happily, you did it again before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the swollen crown. His fingers curled against your scalp, not grabbing or pushing, but very insistently there. 

Now that Aymeric was fully hard, you couldn’t help but think about what he felt like inside of you. How full, how complete you were when he fucked you. The mere thought of it was enough to make you moan shakily, wrapping your lips around his cock and pushing forward, sucking and licking enthusiastically in the hopes that he would be able to feel your arousal. Your appreciation, your affection, your adoration. 

That wasn’t something you ever told him, not with words. You knew better than to distract him with too many of your feelings. He was so busy all the time, distant in a way that often left you cold. Not because he was cruel, or unfeeling, but because he lived in service to others, to lead, there was only so much of himself that he could give. Scraps, moments, little fragments of the most magnificent man you’d ever known. And he had been clear about that from the start. You made peace with it. For such a self-sacrificing man, the very least you could do was live in his service. If it was Aymeric, you didn’t mind so much. 

Finding a pace and rhythm that worked took a moment of experimentation, getting your hand and mouth to work together. Plus, you were trying to be quiet, and clean. That’s how these office affairs went, right? Top secret stuff. Aymeric’s hips pushed forward, throwing you off. 

“You needn’t hold yourself back,” he told you, his voice slightly muffled from above. “The walls are quite thick and-” he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I know you can do better.”

You hummed in understanding, although it probably didn’t sound like much with his cock in your mouth. It was one of Aymeric’s many contradictions. No matter how neat and put-together he always was, nights with him often ended with you teary eyed and dripping with sweat, your thighs slick with cum and saliva leaking from your open mouth, blissed out and sloppy. He wanted to know that you were enjoying yourself so much that you’d be reduced to a swooning, helpless mess. And still, he insisted he wasn’t any sort of sadist. Pretty, complicated, and terribly repressed. 

You gave him what he wanted. It sounded obscene, wet slurping and your little choked moans stifled by his cock, the slick back and forth of your hand working the base, the movements smoothed by your saliva. It was already messy enough to be dripping down your chin and onto your skirt. Probably onto his expensive trousers. He had spare suits at the office though, it was fine. 

“If you’re going to hump my leg, move your skirt out of the way,” Aymeric said. Embarrassing, although he said it with a measure of warmth. 

You stopped, pulling off with a slick pop and a shaky laugh. In your haze, you hadn’t even been aware of what your body was doing. “Ss-sorry, sir. I didn’t…”

“That wasn't a request.” You couldn’t see him, but you could imagine the imperious set of his sharp features, the way his perfect lips blushed dark pink and parted when he was turned on, how his inky dark eyelashes would flutter open so he could look at you with those gorgeous eyes.

You whimpered, a sound you couldn’t help. A bit awkwardly, you hiked your skirt out of the way, shuffling a little closer so you could better grind against his leg.

“Good girl,” he murmured softly. Sweetly, using the hand on your head to pet your hair. You shuddered hard, raising your chin and opening your mouth. Aymeric met you halfway, his hips pushing forward while you moved down, your saliva-slick hand jerking him off in tandem with each bob of your head. 

Now that you were actively trying, the pressure between your legs was intoxicating. You wondered how much he could feel with the heavy fabric of his trousers in the way, if he was aware of how hot you burned for him, how wet every little catch of his breath or groan he couldn’t hold back left you. The friction wasn’t enough, but it was good. At this point, he was practically hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, and you couldn’t tell who was guiding the pace. It was all you could do to sneak in a breath here and there, to remember to use your tongue, to try and keep your voice down as you well and truly lost yourself in the hazy depths of lust and need, shamelessly grinding against his leg. 

Aymeric clearly wasn’t concerned about volume control at all, the office was filled with wet squishing choking noises and your muffled moans. His breathing had become erratic and you could hear the low groans he tried to fight back. You wanted him to come. Desperately, desperately. You wanted to make him feel good, to make him relax, to narrow down his world until it was only you and him and the pleasure he could derive from you. You wanted him to throw you onto his desk and fuck you until you were screaming, to claim you because, God help you, you were his. Not just for a fleeting moment, a single afternoon, a day off, but always. Every second of every day, his. 

“I… can’t…” was the only hoarse warning you got before his hips stuttered, his hand holding your head in place as he came. You braced yourself to take it. For any other guy you wouldn’t have, but Aymeric... 

Aymeric. Every part of him was perfect, you would take anything he gave to you. 

He moaned so prettily, even if he tried to muffle it, the sounds stuttered and choked. You swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, desperate to prove yourself, to take whatever he saw fit to give you. To be his good girl. 

And then he stilled, his hand relaxing. His cock twitched in your mouth, and you pulled back with an unseemly amount of saliva. Like you thought, most of it was on your skirt. Not to mention your sore knees, stiff legs, and the lingering taste of cum in your mouth that was not nearly as pleasant when the act was finished. You needed to get up, the moment was over. He needed to get back to work. But, selfishly stealing a few more precious seconds, you rested your forehead against Aymeric’s knee, and he petted your head, and you let your eyes close. Just for a moment. 

[girlyholic]

SEO for Informative JFashion Blogs

You might have noticed it by now, but it is a major pain to get your Tumblr blog to show up in the results of the various search engines. This is mainly because most of them switched to "mobile-first" indexing over the past few years, meaning the mobile version of your blog is what counts and that one is pretty bad by default for Tumblr.

So here a few general tips on how to get your content properly indexed:

get a responsive theme, meaning that it adjusts to the reader's screen size and therefore works as both desktop and mobile version

go into the "advanced options" of your theme editor and turn the default mobile theme OFF, it will make your desktop theme also act as your mobile one

while it's important for hashtags to be visible below posts, make sure they don't show up on the main page as the clutter can make your blog being mistaken for spam

if not already, change the inside of your title HTML to {title}{block:PostSummary}: {PostSummary}{/block:PostSummary}

fill-out the "keywords" meta with what your blog features (example: "jfashion, japanese fashion, information, outfits, inspiration, articles")

add your blog (username.tumblr.com) to Google Search Console and confirm via meta tag as it will help to optimize and boost your blog's performance on the web

at the above, go to "sitemaps" and make the search engine track your latest posts by adding /sitemap.xml

set your custom pages you want indexed to "show"

if you have any important posts you really want to make sure are properly indexed, put their link into the "URL inspection" bar on the top and it will tell you the current status as well as allow you to force indexing

After all of the above it might take a few days to see any results, and if there is anything causing issues preventing your blog from being properly indexed Google Search Console will let you know in its notifications. I recommend to check the site once a while in general as it also gives a nice overview of how people find your blog and what kind of posts they like, making it easy for you to tailor your content to their tastes. It's handy, isn't it?

Let's make jfashion info blogs great again!

[bu11etzzz]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 |Welcome!| <3

Important!

currently I’m not active + my dms & asks are closed. I won’t be active much. I will come back soon but the time isn’t now <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Asks/Dm’s are open .ᐟ.ᐟ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

(- If you have a special request or would like to chat)

• Inbox/Asks ↓

- If you do send a moodboard/outfit inspo request, please be patient with me ^^, I sleep a lot and am very busy at times + please add very specific details (example; age range, colors, designs, masc/fem, etc) (also you can add your @ if you’d like so i can take inspo from your account!) or I’ll make it how I envision it! <3

• DM’s ↓

- if you dm/direct message me to talk/chat, please keep in mind I’m a very awkward person and it might take me a bit to reply. I’ll read the message but most likely won’t respond (not because I don’t want to or feel pressured but because I’m too scared to respond.) Please don’t take it as I ‘hate’ you or don’t want to talk, it just might take me a bit to warm up to new people! Please abide by my dni below if you want to be friends. Those are my boundaries and if crossed I will block you, thank you for understanding!!! <3

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

About me .ᐟ.ᐟ

Hi! Im pancakezzz or Vinny which is my real name, i go by he/him pronouns, I have c-ptsd, anxiety, hypersomnia, I’m a bit on the spectrum and I use little space to cope!

I’m an age/boy regressor! (SFW, NOT ANYTHING WEIRD!) My big age is 15 and my little age ranges from 0-3

I’m also a pet regressor, a bunny and lamb and occasionally a puppy

I’m single (gay and trans ftm) but not looking for anyone. I have no cg (but I’m open to looking for one possibly) & I barely have any friends…(⸝⸝⸝╺﹏╺⸝⸝⸝)

I’m very socially awkward (irl and online) and don’t know how to talk to people so sorry if I’m a bit awkward or come off as a weirdo ><

This is my only blog I post on and it is my main. My other abandoned blog is cosmicki11er!

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Tags .ᐟ.ᐟ

• reblogs - 🕸️ (reblogzies)

• petre - 🦇 (petre) (Haven’t done yet)

• outfits - 🕷️ (outfitzes)

• requests - 🖍️ (requestzies)

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

More info/Dni .ᐟ.ᐟ

↓

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Interests .ᐟ.ᐟ

I have tons of different aesthetics, goblincore, emo, cottagecore, scene, punk + more. I love the color baby blue and cute childlike aesthetics when regressed! :D

I love drawing when regressed and when I’m not, I love music and I occasionally play instruments, I cook and bake a lot and I want to be a chef! :3

I love to make moodboards and outfit inspo for the agere or petre community

I love comfy clutter, it’s a safe haven for me. Comfy cozy places especially during winter all bundled up is something I really enjoy!

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Fandoms .ᐟ.ᐟ

• (my biggest interest is Batman/Dc!!! Please any Batman/Dc agere/petre blogs be my friend 😞)

Video games - Stardew valley, Genshin impact, Call of duty, Fnaf, Animal crossing, Fallout, Red dead redemption, Final Fantasy, Legend of Zelda, Arkham Knights, Deadplate, Minecraft, Sally Face, Hypnosis mic, Resident evil + Creepypasta & Percy Jackson (which isn’t video games I just didn’t know where to put them)

Movies - Batman Dark Knight, Sugar and spice, Deadpool, Spiderman, Lilo and stitch, Practical magic, On the count of three

Tv shows - Supernatural, Hannibal, The walking dead, Gotham, Tmnt, Lego ninjago

+

Shows when I’m regressed - Bluey, Shaun the sheep, Spongebob, Blues clues, Sesame Street, Strawberry shortcake

Anime - Ouran host club, My hero academia, Given, Death note, Sk8 the infinity, Bungo stray dogs, Vassalord

Music - My chemical romance, Avenged sevenfold, A perfect circle, Ghost and pals, Miku hatsune, Type o negative, Seether, Get scared, Lady Gaga, Radiohead. I enjoy genres like rock, scenecore, rave, alternative rock, indie, sigilkore, angelic metal and shoegaze. When regressed I love soft lullabies and instrumental music to calm me down!

(More to be added .ᐟ.ᐟ)

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

! DO NOT INTERACT !

(Striking out a few words as to not make people uncomfortable)

(TW: A BIT OF SWEARING!!!!)

Please do not interact if you’re homophobic, transphobic, pro life, fatphobic, racist, sexist, misogynistic, ableist, proshippers, a terf, white supremacist, gore watchers/enjoyers, nazi’s/neo nazi’s/support nazi’s/or Hitler, Tcc fans/enjoyers, Anti endo, Anti therians/furries, Anti age regression or pet regression, PEOPLE WHO SEXUALIZE SFW AGE REGRESSION OR BELIEVE ITS A FORM OF SEXUAL PLAY. Age players, pet players, ddlg, ddlb, abdl + other forms of sexual play. ‘Mdni’ blogs, if you interact with my stuff and say minors aren’t allowed on yours. Stop fucking interacting with mine. I am a minor and you’re a weirdo if you do that shit. (9 times out of 10 they’re nsfw blogs to…) Nsfw/nsft accounts (like sex stuff & age play stuff) (BUT!!!!!! SILLY NSFW ACCOUNTS THAT ARE ABOUT FICTIONAL CHARACTERS ARE OKAY!!!), porn/bdsm accounts, maps/pedophiles, thinspo/ed blogs, self harm blogs (recovery is okay), any blogs romanticizing or glorifying mental illness/issues that real people go through and suffer from…+ there’s probably more I’m missing but please just don’t be a weirdo.

(If you ignore my dni and interact with my content/message me, you will be blocked. No warning, no nothing. I do not feel safe nor comfortable with you on my blog.)

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Please interact .ᐟ.ᐟ

age regressors, pet regressors, furries, therians, people who share the same interests, fellow cool people!, or anyone who just wants to be friends and respects my boundaries! :D

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

BYE .ᐟ.ᐟ <3

- pancakezzz ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

[popcornfairy28]

I may have finished writing my first Hamster and Gretel fic; a short double drabble about a particular scene of "Finding Professor Ex", but hey it's a start. Since it's Candace and Stacy's perspective, technically it's a Phineas and Ferb x Hamster and Gretel crossover, which will probably be what my other Dwampyverse fics will be like anyways since Phineas and Ferb is the main fixation for me.

Once again, I recorded the podfic right after I finished writing so I could put them in the same post, but also I did an author's commentary podfic as bonus content that I put at the end of the fic. That's really just so I don't have to clutter up the main fandom tag's on AO3 with that stuff lol.

Summary:

Just then, Candace’s brain registered that it did not sound like Mom’s voice on the phone.

“No way, that’s fire! Send me pics,” the unknown deep voice responded before hanging up.

OR My take on another perspective of a certain scene in Finding Professor Ex.

[statementlou]

I must say, they clearly put thought into somethings and then miss the most simplest of things. They didn’t tag the actual festival, not on lthq or on his main account. A missed opportunity.

I mean... was it? People have a lot to say about what they should be doing and how they're making mistakes if they don't, but like... what would be the point of tagging the fest? Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe they didn't do it on purpose for a reason. Maybe they are promoting Louis to an international general audience, not cluttering up his socials by giving promo to some random fest in France that's already over. Personally I don't feel like I know that they should have tagged the fest and I'm pretty sure the people who are probably saying that them not doing so is a horrible mistake are the same people that equally confidently constantly say they should do things that I DO know are complete nonsense that show their complete ignorance of the industry and common sense so... eh. Not that bothered tbh

[slowpokegamer]

I found your account thru artfight because I came across your Witcher "oc." I think it's absolutely ridiculous that your own character survives the events of the books while Geralt and several other main characters dies. Its completely unrealistic that after everything a useless nobody survives everything while actually well written characters like Geralt and Yennefer die and remain deead. After having scrolled through your blog a bit I can see eyoure just a hypocritcal queer for someone who preaches that the Witcher "isn't eacapsism fantasy" you sure do like to make it escapist with your mary sue oc. You're just as bad as the Netflix fans you preach about hating so much, but at least fans of the Netflix show can actually piece together coherent stories and fanfictions that still fit within the realm of the universe instead of a self insert over powered mary sue thats too busy fucking jaskiers ass to actually havw a compelling story. I hate people like you who have to shove ocs and yourself into every thing. You can't ever let stories just be stories you freaks always have to put yourself in it and drastically change the narrative to fit your own whims. This isn't like playing with dolls if you want to tell a story just write it yourself and leave things like the Witcher alone. It already has a story and it already has it's characters and we don't need poorly written Mary sues cluttering up fandom.tags. Write something original for once and stop inserting yourself into shows and games. Your not cute and your to old to be playing pretend and making up stories. Jaskier isn't gay in the books so your stupid character wouldn't even have a shot that ways either and Geralt probably would have just killed him. And if Geralt didn't kill him then he should have died when the rest of the characters did in the last book. That's the more realistic route. Witchers are also supposed to be rare in the world so your character being a Witcher is also unrealistic and he probably wouldn't have even been able to meet geralt. The story doesn't make sense and I don't understand why you have to come in and change something that was already written. It was fine as it was and we didn't need anymore characters in the story especially characters who dony even fit with it. I'm so gired of seeing people like you who think they can do whatever they want with media when its already written and already exists for a reason. Self ships are cringe and so are OC x canon, it's bad writing and if you have to relay on a made up character to tell gokd stories then your not a good writer. Please delete you Witcher ocs off artfight, as I'm tired of seeing them every time I browse the tags search

I've been getting really into pudding lately