#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.

[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

[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.” 

[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

[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. 

[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

[damnfandomproblems]

Rounding up a few responses to Fandom Problem #5347 and ensuing replies

Anon:

5347 seems to be getting a lot of really whiny people getting upset they dared complain about people not tagging things properly. Even people who agree it’s a problem are being like “well it’s your job to cope with it. Just accept it.” My brother in Christ, this is the blog where people complain about issues. That’s the point. People are saying “you signed on for this by following the main tag” and aren’t considering they signed on to see people complaining about things they’ve decided you should just grin and bear for some reason by following a blog like this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Anon:

Yeah, not everyone is going to tag, but it should be expected Bring up the drunk driver point from earlier. People who don't tag should be treated similarly. There needs to be (social) consequences for fans who don't tag Yeah, there's always going to be drunk drivers but that does not mean they just get to do as they please If someone doesn't tag something, or they tag it incorrectly, kindly ask for them to fix it and if they choose to not properly tag, stone wall them fuck out of fandom. Report their un/under tagged posts for spam (or worse if it applies, e.g., sexual content if it's nsft), block them, get your friends to block them too, and make it so they no longer want to hang around because their rude ass is getting no attention. Fandom should be inhospitable towards people who can't take the three seconds to add a tag and show basic human respect for others Don't send hatemail, of course, or dox them or any of that bullshit, but drive them out through a mix of using the TOS and reporting and mass blocking. It should be expected to either tag or be ignored, just like how you should be expected to filter those tags as need be or suffer through being squicked/triggered with no one else to blame besides yourself and/or your guardian(s) depending on your age Everyone should drive with caution, but they shouldn't have to consistently expect drivers because people shouldn't be drunk driving, and drunk drivers should have consequences when they decide to drive drunk because it's both selfish and puts others at risk (Or, to translate the analogy for those not following along: everyone should browse with caution and have their blacklist up to date and be ready to block, but they shouldn't have to consistently expect to have to block people because people should be properly tagging their posts, and people who don't tag their posts should have consequences because they're being selfish and risking triggering/squicking people out because they want attention [if they have the time and energy to put it in the main tag, they have the time and energy to tag a few other things too])

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Anon:

The solution to seeing content you don't like that wasn't tagged properly is to... scroll past it and move on. Trust me, I know. It's annoying when you end up seeing content you didn't want to, or when it ends up cluttering up what you /were/ looking for, but being outraged about it is not a good solution. If you fixate on it, then you'll remember it and think about it more. If you just go "oh, that's not tagged, I wish it was" and scroll past and focus on the content you /do/ want to see, then you'll eventually forget you even saw it (unless it's something particularly egregious, but it's an inevitability of the internet that you'll come across that sometimes). If you're not mature enough to handle the idea of sometimes seeing things that weren't tagged properly, than I don't think you're mature enough to be on the internet. Also the internet is not /for/ children, it is a place where children are /allowed/ to be. It is not an adults responsibility to moderate their online presense just in case a minor ends up seeing something that makes them uncomfortable. Especially on websites that allow +18 content. Obviously an adult should make it clear that they're account is not for minors, and try to avoid interactions with minors, but adults should be allowed to make adult content for other adults without having to think about the hypothetical minor that might come across it.

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Anon:

May you explain me how to avoid a tag that's not here? Here's a silly example: I'm looking for #green, but I don't want to see #orange, so I filter out #orange in the contents and tags I don't want to see. Yet in the browsing results, it's still jammed with #orange, and most of the time untagged. How do I "not look"? Am I expected to block every single blog talking about untagged #orange? When I'm just looking for #green stuff?

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Anon: (replying to this ask)

I'm sorry, but I can't take anyone who calls the person they're arguing with "sweetie" seriously. It makes it sound like you're about to try and sell me essential oils to cure cancer and depression. I don't know why people do this, but it always makes me laugh.

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Anon:

"Your oh so precious "block button" could probably be effective if people TAGGED just like I block tags I don't like. Blocked tags won't work if they don't exist in the first place." Reply: Blocking tags is one thing, but can't you just block users? Sure it happens after the fact and you've already seen whatever it is, but you can't preemptively stop unwanted interactions every time. There's always going to be some kind of content you never knew existed and it will pop up and yell 'boo'. I feel like if you can't handle the risk of seeing stuff that grosses you out or annoys you (and that's fair, more power to you), maybe it's best you just don't go in those tags or subscribe to them? You have a right to be pissed off that people don't tag, etc, but if you constantly dwell on that and don't take measures to stop exposing yourself to that kind of thing (reasonable measures like not looking at or subscribing to certain tags), it's not healthy man.

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Anon:

"People are going to drink drive anyway" is not a reason to remove legal consequences for drink driving, or to stop teaching new drivers why it's important to stay sober, or to ask anyone who gets hit by a drunk driver "What, were you too precious to just drive defensively?" "There will always be people who don't follow basic tagging etiquette" is not a reason to stop educating new fans about what that etiquette is, or to expect anyone not to get annoyed when a significant number of people cannot be bothered to follow very simple tagging courtesies. So many of you in the responses think everyone should be responsible for their own fandom experience? Then why are you coming to a blog that's specifically dedicated to giving people a space to complain about fandom problems that they find annoying, and having a problem with people complaining about fandom problems that they find annoying?

[amalasdraws]

Hello. Do you mind if I ask about your creative process when you created your OCs? I have a few of my own but I was wondering how you went about creating a story and background for them. I apologize if you have already answered this.

Hey hey, I don't mind at all!! I'm not too sure tough I can give a good answer :D My process has been one that took years. I wouldn't consider myself an ocs artist, in the sense that I have many ocs or many stories. I've been carrying Aran and Tao, and they have changed and grown with me over the years. But I can share two things I like to do 1: I like to start small and slowly grow from there. This applies to drawing my cluttered backgrounds but also to how I like to explore characters. Meaning, I start with the rough base. Character, male, how do they look like. And then I go from there. What do they like? And slowly add things. Does what they like apply to their life? Like hobby, or job? So what would they do? Do the people around them like the same thing or don't get it? Who are the people in their life? You see? Start something small and let it grow.

2: Put them in aus and different scenarios. Despite the fact that Aran and Tao went through several different main stories and settings already, I also have like 100 little aus and different settings for them. And I feel this helps so much. I know now what they like and do, but how would this be in another universe or in another situation? How would them liking this and that work and reflect their action in a different setting? This really helps to figure out a characters motivation and behavior.

This all said, I know that this is a long process. It's all progress. And a lot changed over the years. So as we know finally want to have a specific story for Aran and Tao we do have to settle on one universe and one story arch. And now I'm not doing it alone anymore. Suzie Samin joined me and created a story and we developed the characters together. Which brings me to another third point. 3: Talking with friends or others about your characters and tossing around ideas and playing out ideas helps a lot.

Lastly I think creating a character is a personal thing, and so is the process! And I think there is also a difference between just creating a little guy (gender neutral) to play around with, and draw in different scenes or write little snippets about, or to create a character for an actual story as a book or graphic novel. Not just in the time you have but also purpose. So there are many different ways.

For my case Aran and Tao started out as those funky little guys to just tag along with me and have fun with, and developed into something more serious. So I really find it hard to share my process, because it's been a long one, and it went through many different stages and purposes.

This now got way longer than I thought, and not sure it helps :D

Just have fun with your characters and don't stress too much about it! Be self indulgent and enjoy the process! Nothing is set in stone. You can always go back and change things! Or use them for another character some day.

[searihart]

Hello!! I've been working out a new phone case design and realized I've been picturing making a collage like the ones you posted (I have some milgram and miku stickers I want to make look nice under a clear case). I was just wondering if you had any tips on making them, they're so beautiful! ✨️

I- woah- thank you, that was so sweet (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)

Tips... I'm not sure if I can really give tips, it has been a bunch of trial and error, of seeing what I like and what I don't, but I'll give you what I've learnt, and walk you through my process!

For example, the orange one is cute, but to me it felt like it had too much white, the same happened with the yellow one, I tried to fill both backgrounds with little doodles, the orange with black pen didn't convince me, and the yellow with marker, which made it look better and that became my go to

The next problem I faced was wanting to use everything I had, making it looked cluttered. From here I also learnt that I don't want everything filled and having a bit of background show and irregular edges does wonders for the final thing (but that depends on where you are doing it tho, since yours is a phone case, it'd probably look good if you slightly go past the edges and cut away the excess)

I also found appealing using many different shapes and tones! While some things are on top of others, layering them (like the Luigi, he is above everything except the "important" tag) gives them a nice vibe.

Also, sometimes less is more! This are some of the most simple pages I have, but I love how they look. They make the main focus of something stand out, and applied the irregular edges with little doodles on the background. And even so, in here I did use the full post it's, but since they aren't all lined up, it still gives off that asymmetrical look!

And lastly, I always plan it out! I first get out all the materials I think I will use or fit the theme I'm going for, I usually get more than I'm going to use, and then start to lay them out one by one. Usually the biggest that will work as background first and then start to see where I'll put the little ones. moving slightly, checking if changing the angle will look better, putting parts of a same piece above and under others, tweaking little by little. Once I arrive at something I like, I take a picture and take it apart to then start working on it.

Another thing is playing with the textures! On that last one one post it has flowers washi tape and the other one doesn't and is all crumbled up! And making little handmade parts like the doodles, marker background, the EKG on Shidou's, or the stars on the second to last, all that gives it a unique vibe, a little extra sparkle, at least for me

I'm not sure if this is of any help, I'm sorry heh, but this are the things I've learnt that worked for me! I hope they work for you as well!

[atthebell]

Im still a bit new to tumblr and im confused what you mean by roiers tag is unusable? Is there a specific way to tag things? /genq

so in order not to clutter tags and make them really annoying to scroll through, the only things that should go in "main" tags (as in "roier" or "qsmp" etc.) should be posts that are actually about the person that other people will want to see, not random liveblogging a la "omg this is so funny." so, for instance, a meme about whatever roier is doing on stream is totally fine, or clips and fanart, but like i said, just your random liveblogging doesn't belong in there.

it's not like a TOS issue, it's more about tagging etiquette for other people using the tags. this is, btw, why i don't main tag most of my liveblogs-- if i'm just posting "omg he's so cute," that doesnt go in roier's main tag. most of my liveblogs don't go in the main tags. but if i'm posting things i think anyone who's into roier would want to see, then i do put it in his tags. it's also, frankly, about numbers-- fifty different liveblogs from the same one or two accounts that are all just nonsense and nothing i want to see when i'm seeking out roier content is obnoxious.

and i get that people just don't know how to use tumblr still, and the tagging etiquette in this fandom in particular is awful, but it's still really annoying to be trying to find roier fanart or posts talking about his content and have to scroll past a lot of nothing to find it. it's a fast way to get blocked on here (by me, at least, because i block for any minor annoyance) and it's definitely not going to actually make you any mutuals-- what would be actually beneficial in terms of trying to connect with people, if that's what people are looking for, would be tagging posts that other people actually want to see. people can and should use the main tags for things that are interesting! just not for whatever random thought pops into their head.

[nostalgia-tblr]

I feel like the "put Minor X/Y in the additional tags to avoid relationship tag clutter with side-pairings" isn't a great solution for a number of reasons, even though I am doing my best to switch to that when tagging.

How minor is minor? If it's not in the story as such but it's important for the character's motivations, for instance? I feel like a lot of people will interpret this as "the pairing is mentioned in passing" but between that and "this is the main pairing" lies many many options.

Nobody's going to filter for this sort of tag which will put people off using it, and while I am told this The Correct Way To Tag it's not common enough that people will know to filter it out.

Some people just don't read Additional Tags. This is their mistake/problem but since the purpose of this method of tagging pairings is only to help people avoid them (see above re nobody using this to find fics) it's more likely I'll get offended OTPers this way.

No but really what are we counting as minor? This is worth repeating.

My limited experience with this method has found that it's trickier for me to check my own Works to see how often I've written this or that pairing. AO3 filtering is AND not OR, so I can't bring up "X/Y, or any time I've put X/Y in Additional Tags in case there's not enough of it in the story to satisfy anyone looking for that pairing and only that pairing." This is a minor me-problem but it still puts me off a bit.

I don't have a better option though, so whatever I suppose🤷‍♀️It largely comes down to the issue of "am I tagging for people to find or for people to exclude?" that exists in theory for every tag but is mostly only a problem/dilemma when it comes to pairings.

[thelegendofstella]

That could be a possibility! I was just discussing something similar to that with my friend lol, especially since shapeshifting palismen are now canon thanks to Stringbean. Though I would think that the palisman would have to be carved with the intent of shapeshifting to accommodate that, as is the case with Stringbean—every other palisman we've seen so far hasn't been change to change its shape after having been carved and awakened. Then again, we don't have a plural character in the show to actually try and confirm anything with, so maybe palismen can do something like that when carved by or just simply bonded to a plural person by default. A lot of magic in the Boiling Isles relies heavily on intent, after all, and intent is very wibbly wobbly when it comes down to it

I wonder how palismen deal with people who are plurals/systems/etc. Would the palisman bond with just one member of the system, or all of them? Do pluralities get to have multiple palismen at a time if they want, or is that physically/magically impossible? Palismen seem to be only able to bond with one person at a time (or maybe it’s just a preference), but is that a physical person or a soul person? How much of a “person” does someone need to be in order to properly form a bond with a palisman, anyway?

[sesamenom]

hey staff

can you put the new layout changes under a toggle/dash setting?

right now i have this layout:

ok, now compare it to this layout:

and this one:

all of these have the tabs on the left sidebar, a few options on the very top, and content in the middle.

versus tumblr's old layout:

which has all the stuff on the right, the navigation tabs at the top right to make them easier to access (less scrolling), and generally less busy/cluttered.

In staff's guiding principles post, you mentioned that you wanted to make tumblr 1) easier to use and 2) better for creators, so as an artist, i would like to say that the new layout is less intuitive and harder to use.

With the new layout, the account tabs (drafts, queue, activitiy) are in a place where I have to scroll down to access them. Tumblr Mart is all the way at the bottom, so I have to scroll even more to browse the shop. The activity badges are disjointed from the main activity/messages/inbox button, and the activity popup gets in the way of the main dash instead of staying unobtrusively on the side. In the main dash, the dash tabs are all the way at the top instead of comfortably around eye level, and the tumblr "t" is poking out instead of sitting neatly in the corner.

Generally with the new layout, I have to look around more (if i'm scrolling, i'm looking up and down, then i have to either go all the way up and lose my place or look all the way down to create a new post. To check tags I have to go to the left again, and then I can't read it while scrolling because the popup covers my dash. If i want to go find something in my drafts or queue, I have to go left and scroll down a bunch before I find it, meaning I'm constantly looking left and right and up and down with the new layout.

but i get it, maybe some people might want it, and anyways you need to do something to show your boss you're at least trying to make the site somewhat profitable. so i'm not posting this all just to complain about the layout.

instead, can I propose something like this:

You could have it automatically off if you're worried about new users, while still giving people the option to "Curate [their] Dashboard" and customize their experience!

In fact, you could probably add a few more options & toggles for various features, such as rearranging dash tabs, blog link in header vs url, or auto pause ads (they can still be there, just paused for accessibility)!

@staff @changes @wip @humans @photomatt hopefully you guys see this!