#this design is so good I can’t get over it

[mayakern]

Things are bad right now.

As many of you know, way back in 2020 we weren’t sure if our business was gonna make it. Our factory was already on break for Lunar New Year–a month-long holiday for many businesses in the area–and with the announcement of COVID19, everything shut down indefinitely. We knew immediately we were in for a bad time. Despite our fears, our sales grew so far beyond anything we ever expected, to the point where we had to hire two employees just to keep up with demand! 

Unfortunately, even after our factory reopened, our problems were not over. Their quality drastically declined almost immediately, to the point that a significant amount of our  fabric would literally fall apart in transit between the factory and our office. Because of this, we discovered that our sales rep had no idea what she was doing and knew nothing about the factory she was representing, so when we told her the fabric was garbage her response was “👍 factory said it’s good!” At the beginning, only roughly 10% of our new product was defective and we were able to sell the affected items with a reasonable discount. By the end of our relationship with that factory, 40% of our midi skirts and 70% of our miniskirts were defective, some affected so severely that they practically fell apart when touched. And still, our rep said everything was fine and there were no problems and the fabric composition had not changed.

So in 2022 we changed factories. We hired Ash to handle this since I was way too busy managing fulfillment to do the amount of research and communication necessary to find us a factory that met our criteria. Finding clothing factories that can make clothing over a size 2-3X is significantly more difficult than one that can’t because it often requires larger and more expensive machinery. But Ash did it: she got us set up with a new factory that has excellent certifications for both their labor practices and their methods for textile production, that delivers consistent, high quality sewing on well made fabric that can be printed without suffering loss in detail–and she was armored with the knowledge for what makes a quality garment so she could check them if they tried to screw us on quality. Their minimum orders were way higher than our previous factory’s, so we decided to focus on ordering more units of fewer designs. We ordered way too much our first round–some of those designs were in stock until the 2024 blowout sale! But it worked out, and slowly we had a warehouse full of stuff to sell.

Fast forward to 2024, business is slowing down between the economy being bad and what seemed to be a general skirt fatigue amongst our customers. We tried expanding into shirts, which would’ve been successful if our minimums were lower. In the late spring we realized we were in trouble if we didn’t make drastic changes and we ultimately decided to end in-house fulfillment and transfer to a third party fulfillment center that would support domestic shipping in Canada and eventually the UK, EU, and Australia. In order to make that transition affordable we drastically discounted everything and that sale was super successful! We were able to begin shipping from the fulfillment center with an almost clean slate, even if it did mean having to close the store for almost two months and thereby missing out on two very important months of sales.

Unfortunately, we were stupid. We continued to order new designs on an every other month schedule instead of switching to an every month schedule, forgetting that having a backstock in a variety of designs is what previously helped us float between orders and now we quite literally didn’t have enough inventory to match the sales we made for last year’s holiday sale.

That brings us to now.

We’re a little stuck. We have a round of skirts in production (yay!) but they won’t get here until February (boo!). To get back on that monthly cycle we would need to order the next round of skirts right now, but we can’t pay for production until that next round of skirts gets here; if the current sale goes well, it’s paying payroll, not production. We are currently in the very difficult, horrible situation of not having enough money for next month’s payroll unless we are somehow able to make significant sales with our very sparse inventory.

We’re scrappy and we do our best to adapt to disasters and I’m sure we’ll find a way to adapt to this one as well, it’ll just take us some time to get there. Basically we’re going to be okay eventually–hopefully later this year–but in the meantime if we seem frantic, now you know why. 

If you’re been considering trying out our viscose shirts but haven’t been able to justify paying full price, they’re on clearance PLUS half off right now! That’s $9-$15 for the viscose tops, and other tops on clearance are $20-$45. Some of the shirts we’re having a LOT of trouble selling are now priced below cost to help us recoup some of the money we spent making them.

Any amount of support helps right now. Sharing posts, telling your friends, buying a $9 shirt–all of it helps. If our clothing isn’t your thing, we also have a Patreon you can support for as little as $1 a month. https://www.patreon.com/mayakern

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day and that 2025 is a brighter, kinder year for us all.

[nickistuffs]

Hello Again Pt. 1

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: This feels fated to meet again and again and again

Word Count: 18.08k

Warnings: None. just fluff and also a slow burn.

...

A ping from your email broke your concentration on work. You sighed, already assuming it was one of your manufacturers asking for yet another confirmation about a product you’d been working over for months. Without much thought, you clicked on the notification, ready to fire off a quick response.

To your surprise, the email wasn’t from a manufacturer—it was from Sam, your old friend and occasional collaborator. His subject line read: “Job Offer You Can’t Refuse.” Intrigued, you opened the email and quickly scanned its contents.

It seemed Sam had found you a project that piqued his interest—and yours. The pay was good, the timeline was tight, and the concept sounded straightforward.

You immediately picked up your phone and called him. No need for formalities; this was Sam, after all.

“Hey, Sam,” you said as soon as he answered, skipping any pleasantries. “What’s this mysterious job offer you’re dangling in front of me?”

“Oh, that.” He sounded smug, which only made you roll your eyes. “I’m under an NDA, so I can’t say too much, but it’s a pop-up store project. The whole thing needs to be modular and removable, so it can be packed up and relocated in two months. Easy, right? You in?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m in! Sounds simple enough. Send over the contract and details, and I’ll get started.”

“I knew I could count on you,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the phone. “See you onsite, Y/N.” ...

The day of the meeting arrived, and you were ready—or so you thought.

Sam couldn’t make it and had entrusted you to lead the meeting solo, but you were used to working independently, so it wasn’t a problem. Dressed in a professional outfit that balanced comfort and confidence, you walked into the office where the meeting was being held.

As you glanced around at the product displays, your heart skipped a beat. You could already tell this was a high-profile client. Their products, branding, and visuals exuded quality and creativity.

As you tried to calm your nerves, the conference room door opened, and a group of people filed out.

A friendly woman approached you, pulling you back to reality.

“Hello, are you Ms. Y/N L/N?”

“Yes,” you replied with a polite smile, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I have a meeting with your visual merchandising manager.”

“Perfect, you’re our two o’clock appointment. Please come in.”

You stepped inside the sleek, minimalistic conference room and began setting up.

“Our lead designer just stepped out for a quick break,” the woman explained, handing you a water bottle. “They’ll be back in ten minutes and a few other designers. Is there anything else I can get you while you wait? Coffee?”

“Water is fine. Thank you,” you replied.

You opened your laptop, pulled up your notes and sketches, and jotted down a few ideas in your journal. You were mid-thought when the door opened behind you.

You turned, ready to greet whoever entered, but the words caught in your throat.

It was him. Harry Styles.

...

You both stared at each other, completely stunned. Of all the people you could run into at this meeting, it had to be him. You hadn’t seen Harry since your last encounter at Felice’s Café.

For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down, your mind scrambling to process his presence. He looked just as effortlessly charming as you remembered, his warm green eyes flickering with recognition and surprise.

Finally, Harry broke the silence, his voice smooth but slightly uncertain.

“Hello, I’m Harry Styles. I’m the owner of the company. Nice to meet you…?”

It took you a second to respond, your voice catching in your throat. “It’s Y/N. Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you as well.”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. You scrambled to your feet, standing taller than you’d expected, and reached out to shake his hand.

Your hands met, and you shook it—a bit too long, you thought as the realization hit. The warmth of his hand lingered, making you feel like time had momentarily stopped again.

You quickly dropped your hand and clasped it behind your back, your face heating up.

For a split second, an awkward silence filled the room. Harry seemed like he was about to say something, his lips parting as if to speak—

But just then, the door opened, and a small group of people filed into the room, shattering the quiet bubble you’d both been trapped in.

“Ah, great,” said a cheerful man from the group, clapping his hands together as he approached. “Harry, you’re here. And this must be Ms. L/N!”

The moment was gone. Harry straightened, his expression shifting seamlessly to one of polite professionalism, though you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he glanced back at you.

You offered a polite nod to the newcomers, forcing yourself to focus as introductions were made. Yet, as the meeting began, you couldn’t help but feel like something important had been left unsaid.

And judging by the way Harry occasionally glanced your way, he felt the same.

...

As the meeting progressed, Harry found himself quietly observing you. Initially, he’d assumed you might be shy or reserved—perhaps because of the nervous energy that had lingered when you first met. But as you delved into your presentation, he realized just how wrong he was.

The confidence with which you spoke captivated the room. Your tone was steady yet approachable, and your words were carefully chosen to articulate your vision. You presented your design concepts with precision, highlighting the intricate details and practical functionality behind each element.

Harry leaned forward slightly in his chair, his interest piqued. The way you seamlessly balanced creativity with logic was impressive. He could tell how much thought you’d put into this project—every choice seemed deliberate, every detail purposeful.

What surprised him most, however, was your ability to command the room. You weren’t just presenting; you were selling the design, painting a picture of how the concept would come to life. And the team was eating it up.

He stole a glance around the room. His team, typically quick to interject or challenge ideas, sat quietly, nodding along with your points. Even he couldn’t help but admire the way you navigated through the questions and feedback with such ease.

When you paused for questions, Harry cleared his throat and spoke, his voice cutting through the room.

“I really appreciate the thought you’ve put into the design—it’s incredibly well-considered. I do have a question, though,” he said, his tone genuinely curious. “You mentioned incorporating natural textures into the layout. Can you elaborate on how those elements will remain modular while still maintaining their aesthetic appeal?”

You turned to him, locking eyes for a brief moment. His question wasn’t just thoughtful—it showed that he’d been paying close attention to your presentation.

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” you began, your voice steady. “That’s a great question. For the natural textures, such as reclaimed wood and stone-inspired finishes, I’ve ensured that they’re lightweight and easily removable. The modular framework uses a system of interchangeable panels, so the aesthetic can be retained without compromising functionality.”

Harry nodded, clearly impressed. “That makes sense. And it aligns well with what we’re trying to achieve here—something unique, but also adaptable. Nicely done.”

You gave him a polite smile, though inside, his compliment sent a ripple of pride through you.

As the meeting continued, Harry couldn’t help but feel drawn to the passion and expertise you brought to your work. There was something magnetic about the way you carried yourself—so composed and articulate, yet with a spark of creativity that set you apart.

And as the session wrapped up, he found himself wondering if this serendipitous reunion might be more than just a chance encounter.

As handshakes and congratulations were exchanged, the manager gave a final nod of approval, and Harry himself followed suit, offering his praise for your presentation. It had been a resounding success.

With most of the team filing out of the room, the buzz of conversation slowly faded, leaving you alone at the conference table, still stuffing your things into your bag. You were on a high from the meeting—everything had gone so smoothly, but the exhaustion from a long day was beginning to catch up.

Suddenly, you heard a soft cough. Looking up, you were surprised to see Harry still standing near the door.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, startled. “Are there any more questions you need from me, Mr. Styles?” You quickly adjusted your posture, feeling a bit flustered.

Harry smiled, the easy warmth you remembered from your past encounter resurfacing. “You can call me Harry,” he replied with a casual, almost reassuring tone. “I’m not too big on formalities. Can I call you Y/N?”

“That’s alright with me,” you answered with a smile, pleased by the friendly tone of the conversation. It felt much more natural now that the formality had faded.

A beat of silence passed before Harry spoke again, his eyes twinkling with a hint of curiosity. “So, how long have you been eating breakfast at Feli’s Café?”

You blinked, a bit taken aback by the question. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. “Oh, I’ve been going there for a while now. I usually grab a matcha latte and sometimes a sandwich. Feli’s a good friend of mine—she’s the one who got me hooked on her menu.”

Good thing I found your journal, your presentation was fantastic. Harry complimented.

Thank you again for giving it back. and sorry I was on a time crunch that I didn't introduce myself.

Harry chuckled softly, his expression warm.

You felt a sudden shift in the air between you two, the unspoken moment starting to surface. But before either of you could delve deeper into the conversation, a voice from the hallway interrupted the moment.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the manager popped his head back in, looking around. “But I just wanted to confirm we’re all set for the next steps, Y/N? Can we count on you for the design rollout next week?”

You gave a nod, quickly snapping back into professional mode. “Yes, everything is in order. I'll start on the proper revisions needed for the plans."

“Perfect,” the manager smiled, satisfied. “Thanks again for your excellent work today.”

As he left the room, you turned back to Harry, who was still standing near the door, clearly reluctant to leave just yet.

“I guess I should let you get back to your day,” you said, trying to break the lingering tension. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry’s smile widened, and he nodded slowly. “Definitely.”

...

It had been a month since you completed your work for Pleasing. You scrolled through their Instagram, admiring how your designs brought their brand to life. Seeing people lining up to buy their high-quality products filled you with a deep sense of pride.

You’d only seen Harry a handful of times during the project, but he always seemed busy, caught up in meetings or surrounded by other people.

Sighing loudly, you collapsed onto your bed, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over you. You had plans to join an art market this month, where you’d sell your prints, stickers, and other handmade knickknacks. It was something to look forward to, at least.

“Will we ever meet again?” you murmured to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. “I mean, what are the chances?” You already knew the answer before you even finished the thought. Harry was probably the busiest person you’d ever met, and you were just a nobody in his world.

Your heart felt heavy as you grappled with the cold, hard reality—he might have only been a fleeting moment in your life, a beautiful memory to cherish but not something meant to last. ...

A month had passed, and Harry still hadn’t been able to properly speak with you. He had been trying—desperately, in fact. He’d gone to the café where you first met, hoping to run into you again, but you never showed up, or you came at different times. He even tried catching you after work, but you were always whisked away to other locations or surrounded by people.

In a final act of determination, Harry had even approached HR for your contact information, but they refused to give it to him. Frustrated and defeated, he began to think maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

As he walked home one evening, his eyes caught on a brightly colored poster advertising an upcoming art market at the same location he frequented. He stared at it for a moment, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest before he brushed it off with a sigh. Maybe it was time to give up. Maybe it was never destined to happen.

But something about the poster lingered in his mind—a quiet, persistent thought that made him decide, almost on impulse, to go to the market anyway. Perhaps, by some happy chance, fate would intervene.

You were busy setting up your booth in the bustling market, carefully adjusting misaligned prints and rearranging trinkets to create the perfect display. The air buzzed with chatter and laughter, the atmosphere lively as other artists greeted passersby and showcased their work.

“Your paintings are just lovely, dear,” an elderly woman remarked, her eyes sparkling as she pointed to one of your pieces.

“They really are,” her partner chimed in with a warm smile. “We could hang one in the hallway, couldn’t we?”

“Excuse me, miss,” another potential buyer interjected, holding up one of your prints. “How much is this?”

“For the A4 size, it’s 25 pounds,” you replied with a friendly smile.

More people began to gather, drawn by the charm of your artwork. You did your best to keep up, answering questions, wrapping purchases, and making small talk with the growing crowd. It was a whirlwind, but you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride seeing so many people appreciating your work.

...

Walking through the bustling market, Harry wandered past the stalls he always loved to visit. He admired the fresh vegetables and fruits, browsed through racks of thrifted clothes, and flipped through stacks of vinyl records that always piqued his interest. But today, something different caught his attention—a special event featuring local artists who had been invited to showcase and sell their work.

As he turned toward the next stall, his eyes landed on something—or rather, someone.

It was you.

There you stood in front of your stall, surrounded by your artwork, speaking to customers with an energy that radiated warmth and passion. The light in your eyes, the way you animatedly gestured while describing your creations, the genuine smile that lit up your face—it was everything he remembered and more.

For a moment, Harry froze, rooted in place as he took it all in. You looked so at home in your element, effortlessly captivating the people around you. His heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through him. But before doubt could creep in, before he could second-guess himself, he moved.

Harry started walking toward you, his steps quick and purposeful. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but there was only one clear thought that anchored him: now or never.

This was his chance to finally talk to you—to close the distance that had been lingering between you both for far too long. He wasn’t going to let it slip away again.

...

It has been a good day so far. People were buying your prints, admiring your stickers, and complimenting your craftsmanship. You smiled to yourself, feeling content with the steady stream of visitors who appreciated your work.

Just as you reached for your water bottle, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Hello, again, Y/N.”

You froze, the cap of your bottle slipping through your fingers. Slowly, you turned toward the source of the voice, your heart skipping a beat.

There he was—Harry. Standing there amidst the sea of market-goers, looking as effortlessly charming as ever in a white T-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses perched on his curls. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile as your eyes met.

“Harry?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought it was you,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over your stall, taking in the vibrant prints and trinkets on display. “This is all yours?”

You nodded, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah, just a little side project I do. How…how did you find me here?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I was just wandering around, and there you were. Funny how the universe works, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, funny.”

He looked around at your stall again, picking up one of your prints—a delicate watercolor of flowers intertwined with abstract shapes. “This is beautiful,” he said earnestly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the paper. “You’re really talented.”

“Thank you,” you said, warmth spreading through your chest at the compliment.

“Do you take commissions?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intensely focused on you.

“Sometimes,” you said, tilting your head. “Why? Are you looking for something specific?”

“I might be,” he replied cryptically, his lips curving into a playful smirk. Before you could press him further, he added, “But first, do you have a break coming up? I was thinking I could buy you a coffee.”

Your breath caught at his unexpected offer. “A coffee?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You’ve been on my mind lately, Y/N. Thought maybe this time we could actually catch up without a room full of people or work deadlines in the way.”

Your pulse quickened as you tried to process his words. Was he really asking you out, or was this just Harry being Harry—charming and polite?

“Well,” you started, glancing at your stall. “I do have a little time before the market closes…”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “I’ll wait for you to pack up, or we can just grab something nearby. Whatever works for you.”

As he spoke, the faint hum of the market seemed to fade into the background. For the first time in weeks, the heavy feeling in your chest lifted just a little. Maybe this wasn’t just a fleeting moment after all.

...

Okay, this is actually too long I’ll make it into two parts. Give you guys some suspense. Thank you for reading everyone! ☺️

[silentsneezes]

since the brainrot is continuing, here’s a 1.6k sick v/iktor fic !

cw for talking about disability/chronic illness and a brief mention of dizziness

A few fits from Viktor isn’t uncommon, especially in the spring and fall, so Jayce dismisses the first few series of stifles from his partner. He blesses Viktor, as always, but doesn’t give it a second thought. That is, until Viktor has a particularly long fit, nearing 10 rapidly stifled sneezes without a single breath drawn.

“Bless you, mi amor. Is something setting you off?” He inquires, looking over from his desk to see Viktor’s shoulders shudder with another series of stifles, silent this time. If he hadn’t been looking, he wouldn’t have noticed, but the bobbing of his partner’s head and the shaking of his frame are telltale signs, “Bless you again.”

Viktor frowns at having been noticed, muttering a frustrated, “thank you,” without looking up from his work.

“You know, you don’t have to stifle when it’s just us,” he prompts, expecting to receive the same response he always does: either a dismissive wave of the hand, a glare, or– his least favorite– no response at all. Viktor decides on the latter, letting Jayce’s statement hang in the air unacknowledged.

“I don’t mind,” Jayce continues, “it’s…” he pauses, searching for the right word.

“Incessant.” Viktor substitutes, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I was going to say endearing.” Jayce shrugs as he walks over to Viktor’s workspace, placing a hand on his shoulder. He can’t help but feel a pang of worry as he notices the heat radiating from his partner, “you should take a break.”

“Science does not “take breaks”. Neither does the hexcore,” Viktor rebuts, his accent thick with a congested drawl.

Jayce bites his tongue, holding back from quiping “neither does your nose.” Taunting Viktor would do no good. Instead he gives Viktor’s shoulder a little rub, his thumb traveling over his shoulder blade towards his neck.

“Maybe the hexcore doesn’t,” Jayce agrees, “But you do. You’re human, Viktor, it’s natural to get sick.” He reasons, his voice soft.

“You know it’s different,” he replies bluntly, not bothering to deny his illness.

Viktor’s words hang in the air, the insinuation obvious; Viktor may not get sick super often, but when he does, it tends to linger for weeks, exhausting his body to the point of dysfunction. Having a plethora of chronic illnesses does not mix well with any sort of cold or flu, as proven by Viktor’s record breaking fevers.

“I know,” Jayce murmurs as he continues to rub Viktor’s shoulder, “but that’s all the more reason to rest.”

Viktor closes his notebook, silently admitting defeat. He looks at Jayce with tired eyes, leaning into his partner’s warm touch.

“Let’s go to bed,” Jayce prompts, stepping closer to Viktor, “you need to sleep.”

Viktor can’t help but let out a tired breath as Jayce steps closer, leaning back as if he’s magnetically attracted to the other man. As much as he likes to pretend he doesn’t like physical affection, he’s always indulgent in Jayce’s touch.

Jayce places both hands on Viktor’s shoulders, stepping closer again, their bodies almost pressed against each other as he stands behind the sick man.

Viktor swallows, nodding. He fumbles for his crutch, his hands tightening around its handle as he forces himself into a standing position. Much to his annoyance, his vision clouds with black splotches for a moment, as it always does when he’s feverish. After a few seconds, he manages to shake off the dizziness, turning to face Jayce. His movements are slowed as the fever exhausts his body, only furthering his sour mood.

“Okay,” He agrees, meeting Jayce’s eyes with a tired, hazy gaze.

Jayce smiles, moving to give Viktor’s hand an affectionate squeeze, “good. I’ll grab my things.”

In the time that it takes for Jayce to gather his notebook and a blueprint he’s currently designing – only a few minutes, if that– Viktor has already occupied himself with a new task. Once again, he sits hunched over his desk, his posture downright terrible as he jots down a few equations in his notebook.

“V, you ready?” Jayce prompts, making his way back over to his partner and peeking over his shoulder.

Ignoring Jayce, Viktor starts, “I realized if we-” his breath breaks his thought with a sudden, quiet “hh-” before his shoulders shudder, his head bobbing down with a poorly stifled fit, “hh’hNgSxch! hh’NZxchh’h-hhNSXCh!”

“Bless you, bless you, bless you,” Jayce murmurs, resting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, “come on genius, you can work on this when you’re feeling better.”

“Just let me-,” Viktor starts, evidently intent on finishing whatever project it is he’s started, but Jayce cuts him off with a swift, “No. We’re going home.”

Viktor looks up, a little surprised at Jayce’s firm tone. His lips purse in a thin line, weighing the pros and cons of resisting Jayce’s caretaking. Whether it’s his fever or exhaustion that breaks through his stubborn determination, Jayce doesn’t know. He’s just grateful to receive a quietly mumbled, “fine.”

“Good,” Jayce murmurs with a little smile, leaning over to kiss the top of Viktor’s head. He waits patiently for Viktor to stand and get his bookbag, placing a hand on Viktor’s waist as they make their way to the lab’s exit.

Viktor pauses as they reach the door, his eyebrows knitting together as the buzzing in his sinuses returns. Raising a hand to his face, he presses two fingers to the base of his nose just in time to stifle, “h’NGSxcH-nKZXxT! hh’NGSXt’eh! nNGxxXt! hh… hhNSXchh!”

“Bless you,” Jayce murmurs for what feels like the hundredth time that day, watching as Viktor fishes in his pocket for a handkerchief and wipes at his twitching nose.

The walk back to Jayce’s room in the academy is rather uneventful. It’s slow moving, more so than usual, and Jayce mentally scolds himself for not realizing Viktor was sick sooner. Typically he would, but he’s been so enveloped in his work today, it was easy to dismiss the frequent fits.

Of course, it’s likely that Viktor would’ve insisted on working even if Jayce had realized sooner, but Jayce still takes the blame. ‘He’s my partner. I should’ve known,’ he admonishes as a mental debate pans out, one side reasoning that Viktor is often reluctant to accept aid, and the other insisting that it’s Jayce’s responsibility to prove to Vitkor that he deserves care.

Even months into their relationship, Jayce struggles with proving to Viktor that his affection is out of love rather than pity. Admittedly, he’s made a few blunders in learning how to navigate helping Viktor with accessibility without diminishing his autonomy; as eager as he is to help his partner, he still finds himself unlearning certain behaviors he has from growing up able-bodied in Piltover.

His mental dispute is interrupted by a quiet “hh-” from Viktor, immediately earning Jayce’s attention. He looks over, watching as Viktor stands in place, his handkerchief held loosely in front of his nose as his breath hitches. Jayce feels his heart swell at the sight; Viktor looks downright miserable, his nostrils flaring in irritation at the itch.

“hh’ng’KZXchh! hh’TKsCHhew-kGNX’SHh!” The sneezes tumble out one after the other, and Viktor only manages to half stifle the first of the explusions, muffling the second two into his handkerchief.

“Salud,” Jayce murmurs as his hand finds its way to Vitkor’s waist again, giving it a gentle squeeze, “we’re almost home.”

Once again, Viktor doesn’t reply, instead wincing as he swallows. ‘Damnit, he’s worse off than I thought’ Jayce thinks, but he puts his mental chastising on hold, prioritizing the task at hand: getting Viktor home.

It doesn’t take much longer for the couple to arrive at Jayce’s place, and he’s quick to unlock the door, allowing Viktor to step inside. Viktor makes a beeline for the bedroom, not bothering to hide his exhaustion– and frankly, not able to hide his exhaustion with his worsening fever.

Jayce follows his partner, ready to make sure he’s as comfortable as he can be. He gives Viktor space as he climbs into bed, knowing not to offer help unless he’s prompted. Still, it pains him to watch Viktor position himself stiffly on the edge of the mattress, using both hands to leverage his bad leg up before shifting to lay back against the headboard.

Jayce busies himself with little tasks, appeasing his million mile per hour mind by getting tissues, a thermometer, cough drops, and all the necessities in battling a cold. He places the items on the nightstand, leaning over to cup a gentle hand over Viktor’s forehead, “Mi dios,” he mutters, feeling a pang of concern at Viktor’s temperature.

Viktor just allows the touch, his eyes drooping shut as he tries to ignore the swelling pain behind his temples. Now that he’s laying in bed, his work left behind in the lab, he allows himself to feel the extent of his sickness. It’s safe to say, the discomfort isn’t pleasant.

“Can I get you anything? Tea? A cold washcloth? A-,” Jayce starts listing, eager to relieve whatever pain he can.

“No,” Viktor answers simply, hooking a slim hand around Jayce’s waist and giving him a weak tug. Jayce submits without hesitation, climbing into bed beside his partner and making sure not to jostle him. Viktor melts against Jayce’s side, his head resting between the crook of Jayce’s elbow and his chest.

“I’ve got you,”Jayce murmurs lovingly, a hand coming up to sift through Jayce’s hair, “Just rest.”

Raspy and barely audible, Viktor mumbles, “What do you think I’m doing?”

Jayce can’t help but smile, chuckling quietly at his partner's sass. Even sick, Viktor is quick to give Jayce attitude, “point taken,” he concedes.

i’m working on the asks i’ve received, as well as a second part to the allergic j/ayce fic, but i figured this fic has sat in my snzdoc for long enough

as always, any comments or tags are much appreciated !! thank you to anyone who read the fic, i hope you enjoyed

[nodoubtily]

Your favourite moments with Niki as your boyfriend

Drabble 4/6: Thank you, Prada!

I FEEL SASS RADIATING

TW:// REALLY WHOLESOME, Y/N is off with the fairies, Niki enjoys it too much. Idol!Niki x Non-Idol!Reader, just really cute considering I was listening to such a freaky song while writing this out. NOT PROOFREAD.

Upon the sight of your boyfriend, you’ve become officially unresponsive. No one knows what’s wrong other than you. All everyone is aware of is the fact you, for the love of god, cannot take your eyes off your 6-foot-something pretty boy. He, Niki, is determined to find out, but for some reason, you back away whenever he moves towards you, confusing the fuck out of him.

“Baby, you’re scaring me now..” he says, done with playing. His voice is laced with concern and worry, which snaps you, momentarily, out of your powerful trance.

“Need you in this outfit more. I’m begging you. I’m begging your designer. Where is she, like seriously.” You mutter, your eyes scanning the small room Prada granted the group. You can’t find her, and your shoulders slump. Staring at him again, your eyes take down his tall frame. He shakes his head slightly, chuckling. Now he knows what wrong. And like HELL he’ll miss out on this moment.

“Baby.” He grabs your attentions, only slightly, so you hum in response. “Did you know that my dog is cuter than yours?” You only nod.

“Yeah, of course. Way cuter…” it’s like your brain was crashing down.

“Did you also know your mother loves me more than you?” He’s lying straight through his teeth, but you only nod quickly.

“Sees you as the son she never got.” You say, hands shaking as they fidget with Niki’s glasses. He only lets you play with them, and you’re not even realising you’re getting your fingerprints all over. Niki does, but he doesn’t mind. He’s enjoying this too much.

“I love you more.” He leans closer and you kiss his cheek absentmindedly, you’re hands now feeling the fabric his clothes.

“Such beautiful material.” You mumble, feeling the softness. You, like always, praise Prada for this. Niki, satisfied, wraps his right arm around your waist, pulling you snug against him. He kisses your forehead.

“You’re so cute.” He pecks your lips, awakening you from your timely trance. You gaze up at him.

“You look so nice. You smell really good too.” You properly face him, your arms wrapping his waist, the side of your face palming his chest. His arms cozy around your neck, pulling you impossibly close as he kisses your forehead.

“I love you, baby.” He mutters lowly, only so you could hear.

“I love you too.”

FUNNY THING IS THAT FOR MAJORITY KF THIS I LISTENED TO ‘WET THE BED’ BY CHRIS BROWN. Then by the end, ‘No Pole’ came on.

@jyikeu my fucking wifey. ILY

[thollandsgirl2013]

Idea - tom and the reader being all cutesy and domestic after a party or date night and doing their night time routine to together, idk I just think that's so cute

Hello! Thank you for your request! I loved writing this one. Hope you enjoy!

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿  ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

𝐔𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

Parings → Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings → fluff

Summary → Tom and you unwind after a party, enjoying a sweet, playful nighttime routine filled with love, laughter, and relaxation.

(gif not mine)

The sound of the door clicking shut behind you brought a collective sigh of relief from both you and Tom. The party had been wonderful—a mix of laughter, dancing, and catching up with friends—but it had left you both utterly drained. Tom, always the gentleman, carried your heels in one hand while his other arm draped over your shoulders.

"You looked incredible tonight, love," he murmured, dropping a kiss to your temple as you made your way down the hallway toward the bedroom.

"You didn’t look too bad yourself, Mr. Holland," you teased, poking him lightly in the ribs.

He grinned, opening the door to your shared room and flipping on the lights. You sighed in relief, immediately padding over to the bed and flopping down.

Tom placed your heels neatly by the closet, watching you with an amused grin. "Not even gonna make it to your pajamas, are you?"

"Give me a second," you replied, rolling onto your side to look at him. "Those things were torture."

"Understandable," he said, grabbing your feet gently and massaging them for a moment. "I swear these heels are designed by someone who hates women."

You laughed, watching him as he pressed his thumbs into the arches of your feet. "You’re lucky you’re cute, Holland. Otherwise, I’d still be mad at you for making me dance so much."

"Hey, don’t blame me," he replied with a smirk, "you’re the one who dragged me onto the floor in the first place."

"That feels nice."

"Let’s get out of these clothes before you fall asleep."

You nodded in agreement, getting up and fumbling with the zipper of your dress. "Can you help?"

"Of course," he replied, stepping behind you. His fingers gently tugged at the zipper, and he leaned down to press a kiss to the back of your neck as he slid it down.

"Tom," you giggled, swatting at him.

"Can’t help it," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. "You’re too irresistible."

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. He helped you step out of the dress, hangering it neatly and placing it on a chair. Then, he started unbuttoning his own shirt, shrugging it off to reveal his toned chest.

"Eyes up here," he teased, catching you staring.

You stuck your tongue out at him. "Please, you love it."

Once both of you had changed—Tom in his usual gray sweatpants and you in his oversized T-shirt and a pair of comfy sleep shorts—you headed to the bathroom together.

As you reached for your makeup remover, Tom grabbed his face cleanser.

"You know, you’re way too good at this," he teased, watching as you expertly wiped away your makeup. "It’s like a little magic trick."

"That’s because I’ve had years of practice," you said with a laugh. "You, on the other hand, still manage to get soap in your eyes every time."

"Not true!" He protested, though his sheepish grin gave him away.

You both moved to the sink to brush your teeth, standing side by side. Tom’s elbow bumped into yours as you both reached for the faucet at the same time.

"Hey, move over, you’re hogging the sink!" You complained, nudging him with your hip.

"Me? Hogging?" He feigned indignation. "You’re the one with a million products lined up here."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your laugh as he gently bumped you back. Toothbrushes in hand, you started brushing, occasionally making exaggerated faces at each other in the mirror.

"Stop that, or I’ll laugh and spit toothpaste everywhere," you warned, trying to keep a straight face.

Tom chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he rinsed his mouth. "You’re no fun."

Once you were both done, you patted your face dry with a towel, turning to see Tom leaning casually against the counter, watching you.

"What?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just thinking how lucky I am," he said softly.

Your cheeks warmed, and you tossed the towel at him. "Sap."

He caught it with a grin and tossed it back.

The two of you finally climbed into bed, the soft sheets welcoming your tired bodies. Tom immediately pulled you into his arms, his chest warm and firm against your back.

"Good night, love," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Good night, Tommy," you replied, your voice heavy with contentment.

As you drifted off, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that moments like these—simple, domestic, and full of love—were what made life with Tom so special.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

[hinatastinygiant]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: Draken's Sketch :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

✿ OTHER LINKS masterlist ✿

As the Toman meeting wraps up in its usual chaotic fashion, you're seated on the floor, leaning against the cool concrete wall with your sketchpad balanced on your knees. Mitsuya sits next to you, hunched over his own notebook, his pencil moving steadily as he works on a new design.

Draken approaches, his footsteps heavy but unhurried. "Hey, Mitsuya," he calls, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I'm looking to get a new tattoo. Got any ideas?"

Mitsuya doesn't look up. "What, aren't you running out of space?"

Draken smirks. "Not yet. But if you've got something good, I'd buy it from you. Like back in elementary school."

Your head jerks up at that. "Wait- you got a tattoo in elementary school? That's insane. And badass. But mostly insane."

Draken chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, it's not like anyone was gonna stop me."

The laugh you let out is half disbelief and half admiration. "You're ridiculous," you tell him before glancing back at your sketchpad.

He leans down, towering over you as he places a large hand on the top of your head. "Keep practicing and maybe you'll design my next one, Y/N."

Your cheeks heat as Mitsuya glances over, catching the interaction. The smirk that spreads across his face is far too knowing. 

As Draken straightens up and walks away, Mitsuya elbows you lightly. "So, what's up with you two?"

You shake your head. "Nothing."

"Mhm."

"Really, there's nothing going on."

Mitsuya rolls his eyes. “Then you should really take him up on that offer." He taps your sketchbook with the end of his pencil. "You'd get good practice and a decent payout for it."

You sigh, setting your pencil down. “What are you talking about?"

“The tattoo. And maybe his heart while you’re at it."

You nudge him back, cheeks burning hotter. “You know I don't like him like that."

Mitsuya raises his eyebrows, his violet eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, is that right?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "Yes. And don't you dare say a word about it to him!"

"Or what?"

"Or..." You glance around the room, looking for an idea. "Or I'll tell everyone about the time you peed yourself in high school."

Mitsuya laughs a deep, hearty sound. "Yeah, you and Hakkai both. Fine, we're even. I won't tell him about the massive crush you have."

You roll your eyes, turning your attention back to your sketchbook.

A few minutes later, when you feel like you've calmed down enough, you glance over at Mitsuya. “Thanks."

He hums softly, his eyes still on his work. "Anytime."

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, only interrupted by the occasional murmur of conversation around the room or the scratching of pencil on paper.

For days, you can’t get the thought out of your head. The more you think about it, the more determined you become to create something perfect. After countless drafts and a few late nights, you finally settle on a design: a motorcycle with angelic wings extending from the sides.

When the next Toman meeting comes around, you tuck the finished sketch into an envelope and keep it hidden until the end.

The lot is nearly empty by the time you make your move. With the envelope in hand, you walk over to Draken’s bike, placing it carefully on the seat and weighing it down with a small rock to keep it from flying away.

You turn back to rejoin the others and see Takemichi and Mikey standing nearby in mid-conversation.

“Yo, Y/N!” Mikey calls out, waving you over. “Get over here. Takemitchy’s trying to convince me he could win in a fight. Can you believe that? Have you ever seen him win a fight before?"

Takemichi groans. “I said I could hold my own- not win."

You laugh as you reach them. “Optimistic as always, Takemitchy."

“See?” Mikey grins triumphantly, slinging an arm around Takemichi’s shoulders.

The three of you fall into an easy conversation, the sound of your laughter cutting through the quiet evening. It’s only when Draken approaches his bike not too far off that the dynamic shifts.

He picks up the envelope, his brows furrowing briefly before unfolding the sketch. His expression softens as he takes in the design, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

From the corner of your eye, you notice him glance your way. He watches you for a moment, still smiling as you laugh at something Mikey says. 

“Hey, Mikey!” Draken calls out, his deep voice carrying across the lot. “I’ve got something important to go do."

You turn, catching the way his gaze lingers on you for a second longer than usual. Mikey catches it too.

As Draken swings his leg over his bike, Mikey’s head snaps toward you. “What’s going on here?"

“Nothing,” you say quickly, your voice higher than you intended.

Mikey squints, skeptical. "You know, you look awful suspicious right now, Y/N."

You shrug nonchalantly, your eyes darting away. “Do I?"

Mikey's stare sharpens, but thankfully Takemitchy steps in. “Chill, Mikey. It’s not like she’s conspiring anything against you."

Draken, seemingly unfazed by the exchange, revs his engine. “Don’t wait up,” he says, nodding at Mikey before riding off.

Mikey waves after him, then turns back to you, his expression serious. “Okay, spill."

You take a deep breath, knowing there's no use denying anything now. But before you can answer, Mitsuya appears at your side, slinging an arm around your shoulders with an amused grin.

���Y/N grew some balls, that’s what,” he says casually, though there’s a hint of pride in his tone.

Mikey tilts his head to the side, his eyes darting between you and Mitsuya. “I don’t get it."

“Don’t worry about it,” Mitsuya replies, steering you away before Mikey can ask any more questions.

Later that evening, Draken sits in the tattoo parlor, the sketch pinned to the wall in front of him.

“This one’s special,” he says to the artist, his voice steady. “Let’s get it right."

The artist nods, turning their attention back to their work. "You should tell your friend it's a good design."

"Yeah, I will."

As the needle buzzes awake, he thinks of you- your quiet focus as you sketch, the way your eyes lit up when you called him a badass, and the warmth of your laugh. 

For the first time in a long while, he feels like he’s carrying more than ink on his skin. He’s carrying a piece of you.

✿ OTHER LINKS masterlist ✿

If you enjoyed this, consider supporting me on Ko-fi!

[yvonest]

The Secret to Breaking Free from Phone Addiction: Make It Boring

Many people struggle with phone addiction, often fueled by endless doomscrolling. The solution? Make your phone boring. Your phone isn’t designed for constant use, and your brain isn’t meant to be constantly fed content. Overusing your phone not only shortens its lifespan but also wastes your own time. I recently started lowering my screen time, and it’s been a surprisingly successful journey so far—one that’s helped me regain focus and enjoy life offline.

────୨ৎ────

Taking control of your phone habits is easier than you think. Here are some tips that have helped me so far:

1. Start your mornings differently

Avoid using your phone first thing in the morning. Starting your day without it helps you focus on other tasks and sets a productive tone. The less you rely on your phone in the morning, the less tempting it will feel throughout the day. Though it's hard at first, it's so worth it.

2. Delete social media

Social media is the biggest culprit of phone addiction.

You don’t need to live under a rock, but cutting out apps like TikTok, Instagram, or Snapchat can make a huge difference. Keep apps you truly need for communication, but limit their use to just that. Without the constant pull of social media, your phone becomes less distracting—and that’s the goal.

Deleting social media doesn’t make you an outcast or boring. You can still stay informed by talking to people around you and keeping up with what truly matters. It might be hard at first, and you might feel tempted to reinstall the apps, but it gets easier. Over time, you’ll start finding better ways to spend your free time, and boredom can even lead to new creativity.

3. Find a hobby

Breaking free from your phone is much easier when you have something else to focus on. Explore new hobbies—there are tons of Tumblr posts with ideas, so you’re bound to find one that suits you. Whether it’s journaling, drawing, learning an instrument, or even baking, the key is to find something you genuinely enjoy. (Reminder! You don't have to be good at it to enjoy it!!!)

Having a hobby not only fills your time but also helps you feel more accomplished and creative. Instead of reaching for your phone out of boredom, you’ll have something far more rewarding to do.

4. Discipline

Breaking free from your phone starts with self-discipline. Set clear boundaries for when and how you use it, like avoiding your phone in the morning or during meals. It might feel hard at first, but every time you resist the urge to check your screen, you’re building stronger habits.

Discipline doesn’t mean being perfect—it’s about making conscious choices. Over time, these small actions add up, and you’ll find it easier to focus on what really matters instead of falling back into old scrolling habits.

5. Unfollow accounts

A cluttered feed can easily lead to endless scrolling. On Tumblr, for example, I simply scroll past posts that don’t catch my attention—whether it’s a fanfic, a meme, or a picture. If it doesn’t interest me, I don’t bother to glance at it. Instead, I focus on content that is more useful or enjoyable to me.

By unfollowing accounts that don’t align with your interests, you can make your feed more purposeful. This way, you’ll spend more time on content that adds value to your day. The more intentional you are with what you follow, the less likely you’ll waste time on things that don’t matter to you.

+If you can't make it boring, make it useful

If you can’t make your phone completely boring, at least make it useful. Find something that genuinely interests you—whether it’s a hobby, learning something new online, or listening to informative podcasts. It’s already a huge improvement over mindlessly scrolling.

A high screen time isn’t always bad; it just depends on where you put that time to use. After all, we live in a world surrounded by modern technology. For example, I really enjoy classical music. I spend time researching composers I love, creating playlists, and even discussing it with friends. Another example could be blogging, like I do.

By filling your phone time with things that add value to your life, you can make it enjoyable and purposeful. Make your phone fun, but also meaningful.

♡

[paranoxia-333]

Oop…the most divisive two?? Slowly starting to realise maybe I have more of a strange taste in men than I thought XD

I’ve played through up to the fall performance since I wrote the original post (currently on the day before the fall performance) and I DEFINITELY like him more now. That part where Suzu and Sou start arguing and then Sou snaps at Suzu…the voice acting gave me CHILLS during that..the way he started screaming at him really caught me off guard. I really liked his development through that arc too, I felt bad for him the first few times but after the 70th time of Sou going ‘I’m never gonna be as good as Suzu or Kisa…….i can never stand next to her on the stage…’ I think the development was needed fast or he was about to get reallyyy repetitive. But yep, definitely like him a lot more now.

With Neji I probably wouldn’t have liked him as much if my first exposure to him was his romance route since that ‘Tachibana…I’m scared of females’ defenitely made me reconsider for a second lol. I really enjoyed his voice acting as well as Sou, Daisuke Kishio did a really good job giving Neji a dynamic and interesting voice, a lot more than other characters I’ve seen with similar personalities to Neji.

This one might be a bit controversial but I actually appreciated him accepting that offer with Onyx and Rhodonite to transfer Kisa if she couldn’t get an individual award. The way he had that much faith in Kisa’s talent as an actor really impressed me, I’ve played a few otome games before which I had not-so great opinions on, and one of them was always how they always downplay the main character and her skills to fit her into a stereotypical female role, it always just stood out to me how the main character never seemed to be portrayed as talented or strong (I’m sure there’s better otomes out there, I was probably just unlucky) so seeing Neji put so much faith in Kisa because he believes so much in her talent really made me like him, even if it’s under the guise of Kisa being male.

I also…just found him kind of entertaining in general 😅 him being relatively unpredictable compared to other characters just made me a lot more curious to what his interactions would be like, so I end up choosing him a lot more over other characters. I think they’re defenitely going to have to play their cards right for his route though, I’d probably still enjoy his character because of his voice acting and entertainment value but if they don’t resolve his fear of women well later on Sou will probably rise higher than him for my favourite character lol.

I defenitely like Fumi too. I really like his design with the more feminine look too plus the piercings. I still haven’t seen too much of him though so I’ll trust you and keep him for one of the last routes I do. My plan was to start and end with characters I liked the most while keeping the ones I didn’t like so much in the middle, which for me would be Kai and Suzu in the middle. I actually like every character so far, they just happen to be my two least favourites. I’ve played 2-3 events of their routes and both had a big emphasis on Kisa’s Jeanne-ness so far (Suzu ‘I can’t kiss you you look too much like a girl’ and Kai ‘your hands are so small’) which just isn’t my style which you might’ve guessed by the original post lmao. Defenitely still characters I like though, Suzu’s determination is really admirable and Kai’s tendency to say absolutely nothing and also disappear out of nowhere was pretty relatable lol. I also really liked Kai’s talk with Kisa when she was struggling to play Mukai since she thought she was too feminine for the role, when he told her that she doesn’t need to try and be more masculine to play him because she is already suited for the role enough as she is, that really stood out to me and made me like him a lot.

I haven’t really seen that much of Mitsuki to form an opinion on him, since he’s been pretty quiet so far and the 2 events of his I’ve played so far didn’t really tell me too much about him apart from his mother. Definitely still interested in him though, and I defenitely wanna lean into the transmasc vibes lol.

Originally my plan was to play through the routes in the order Neji, Sou, Kai, Suzu, Fumi, Mitsuki but I did read the link you added, it was very helpful! Im gonna keep Neji and Sou where they are but I’m defenitely a big fan of the CGs and a little less concerned about the lore (although I still like it) and since Sou is my second I’m gonna swap those two around so I can have the Sou-Suzu synergy and also delay Kai’s CGs more. I’ll also take your advice with Fumi last and swap him and Mitsuki around so now it’ll be Neji, Sou, Suzu, Kai, Mitsuki, Fumi! I also realised reading the link that my chronic rhythm game addiction has come in clutch with the SS scores and I’m accidentally on my way to the bad end so thank you for the warning😅.. I’ll probably squeeze the bad end in somewhere between Suzu and Kai so it’s not my first impression and I also don’t end on a bad ending. Defenitely enjoying the whole game so far so I’ll probably be commenting on whatever other things stand out to me as I play. Thanks for the advice though! I really appreciate it

Why is this woman targeted otome game making me feel seen in a way no overtly transmasc media ever has (Jack Jeanne on Switch)

For context the MC (Kisa Tachibana) is a girl crossdressing as a boy to go to an all boys drama school called Univeil, since it’s all boys some of them play girls for the plays, the ones who play boys are called Jacks and the ones who play girls are called Jeannes

I was guessing since it was a female protag they would make her a Jeanne for the whole game as not to alienate their audience but for her second performance she’s given a male role as a Jack, she struggles with the role at first and has some lines that resonated HARD with me when looking at them through a transmasc perspective:

I’m sure I don’t need to explain much how a transmasc could relate to this, but it was such a nice surprise to have this nuance in a game I really wasn’t expecting to touch on gender this much; I’m not an avid otome game player so maybe I went into it with a lot of bias as I though it would be targeted towards a straight female audience but it was really nice to see them explore Kisa’s gender expression like this. There are more examples I could talk about with the gender commentary but I don’t want to spoil it too much. If you’re interested in the game I should also mention half the guys look like girls it’s literal transmasc bisexual heaven

Overall I’m really enjoying this game so far, I know the community for it is kind of small but if any other Jack Jeanne fans are here I’d love to hear some more opinions too. I’m only up to around the end of the summer holidays/hotel training camp and when they’re moving into the fall performance practice, so I’d appreciate if you could avoid spoilers past then.

[vita-divata]

I’m so normal about her <3

[sickfreaksirkay]

I JUST FUCKING MET DAVID TENNANT

[spiderin-space]

Lamb unfortunately was Not dainty in their escape 😔😩

(Feat. @paintpaintpaintman’s Petra in the third sketch)

[quietwingsinthesky]

the doctor is emotionally manipulative. he’s very good at it, and even better at justifying it both to himself and the people he’s doing it to. he can see when his approval, his affection, is valuable enough to someone that withholding it will be an effective way of getting them to do what he wants. this is one of his best flaws, that he’ll do this to people and do it to them for his own definition of what’s good for them.

(gestures vaguely) twissy.

[lavenderjewels]

This design is so good, I need sukuna to have this original body again

[loopyarts]

A full page of egghead Ichiji doddles along with a bit of egghead Niji and Sanji as well. :3

Now I know they probably won’t return in Egghead arc but I can dream dammit.

[r0semultiverse]

It’s wild to me that some of you have entire discourse accounts dedicated to shipping hate & over analyzing shipping between the anime, manga, & light novels to the point of making harassment campaigns against the authors/writers of the side stories. Yet y’all don’t send the same hate towards Ikemoto & his highly suspect ass art style with the way he draws some of these kids.

[edge-oftheworld]

when I was in high school there was a tendency whenever there was an attractive boy to simply fan over him. in a way that talked over everything he might say for himself and created a narrative that completely ignored, the fact in some cases, that he was really struggling—or if he was struggling, to pin all the blame on the girl he’s dating and completely ignore the thousands of other factors (no it can’t be mental illness or unaccommodated disability or systemic abuse or exploitation and if he is in an abusive relationship we won’t ever consider the factors that put him at risk for that)

and I’m not saying this fandom is like that. I get the need for privacy around some things and how in public conversations sometimes it’s a lot more respectful to stick to the positives (everyone who does that, I admire you) or even the struggles that are talked about publicly, show respect by not reading too far into them. there’s a time and place for that. but sometimes I feel like our only options are shitty and ableist gossip or totally ignoring the systemic and structural issues we know exist in something like the music industry until someone dies and then we’re looking for someone to blame. friends, there is a point where the respectful thing is to listen to what someone says and come together to make things better. and you can learn how to have that conversation respectfully. please do