#just in case tumblr breaks the read more lmao

[niphredil-14]

pls write some fluff for raph <3333

its 2 am rn so i just want something comforting to read lmao. maybe some headcannond about trying to get a peaceful nights sleep while ur crime fighting boyf sneaks back into ur room after patrolling/a mission?🥷🥷🥷

ty bby

METRONOME OF AFFECTION (2012 Raphael Hamato/Reader) Warnings: some pining, some light insecurity, lots of fluff, friends to lovers word count:1794 notes: tumblr wouldnt let me post this all at once so i was forced to break it up.

Protecting a city as massive and crime filled as New York was far from an easy task, no matter how many people were on the team, and in some cases, the team could add more to his plate than they took anything off of it. From small annoyances, and petty arguments to full on battles, it didn't take long to wear Raphael down, he could feel his patience falling away from him like loose scutes. Every little inconvenience and setback sticking to him like algae on his shell. By the time that the bright moon, clouded by the fog and smoke rising from the city, had begun to set over the skyline, Raph's feet were dragging with every step, his very bones ached, and what risked becoming a permanent scowl had carved itself onto his face, his mouth curving downward, pulling awkward lines down his jaw from his beak. The group had all been heading towards their go-to sewer cap, located in a small, cramped alley in the Italian district, right next to a small Mom-and-Pop pizzeria that they had April and Casey frequenting on their behalf. The closer they got to their equivalent of a doorstep, the more Raph's appetite lessened and a strong sense of dread set into his chest. He did not want to end his less-than-ideal night with going back to the lair, with people who has spent the past six hours doing nothing but getting on his nerves, only to brood and stew in his misery, holed up in his room or the dojo until the stars rose yet again as the next evening dawned, where they would all rinse and repeat their ass-kicking and name-taking routine, he needed an escape, and he knew exactly where to go. He had stopped walking, letting his brothers and friends build a gap between them as he slowly melded with the shadows, turning and heading east. After five minutes or so, he would send them a text, just before he arrived at his destination, letting his family know that he was okay, and that it was just a bit early for him to crawl back to the sewers to hide from the world again. Pausing after sending the text, letting the dim blue-light from the screen minimally illuminate his face, he hesitated on their fire escape. The window led into their living room, and he could tell that there was not a single light on in their apartment, save for a small night light kept plugged into the hallway outlet, so that they didn't trip if they had to get up in the middle of the night, as they so often did. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb their sleep, he knew that with everything they had going on in their life, that they weren't getting nearly enough, and yet he couldn't stop himself from at least slipping in to use the first aid kit they kept underneath their bathroom sink, and making sure that they were okay. He placed his fingers underneath the window, and let out an exasperated sigh when it lifted open without resistance. The number of times he had warned them to keep all their windows locked was as impossible to count as the stars with the naked eye. He faced the evil of the city every night, he knew what hid in the shadows, he knew the monsters that would give anything to hide in their closet or under their bed, he could be counted among them, though for contrasting reasons to the other freaks and low lives. Silently crawling through their window, with some struggle due to his sheer size, he made his way to the kitchen first, grabbing a glass of water, and some of the snacks they had begun buying once Raphael's visits became more frequent. He smiled to himself in the dark of the kitchen, his heart touched at seeing that they had restocked his favorite snacks. After having a quick bite, he snuck into the bathroom, taking out the first aid kit an patching himself up where needed, which fortunately for him, was not much, he hadn't gotten more than a few cuts, and only had to remove two bullets. He slid the kit back into the cupboard and shut the door behind him, walking as quickly as he quietly could towards the end of the hall, where their bedroom was.

The door was closed, but he could hear their soft breathing behind the door. Their breaths were slow and even, and he was sure that they were in a deep sleep. He felt as though he shouldn’t intrude, but they had always told him that he was always welcome, no matter the time or the day, and maybe, he thought, he should just do a quick check to make sure a necklace they forgot to take off wasn’t choking them and that there weren’t any intruders or creepy-crawlies hiding in the room, waiting for the perfect moment. And so, he slowly opened their bedroom door, cringing at the low squeak that resulted. He froze, waiting for any sign that he had disturbed them, but their breathing did not change, and they only slightly shifted. It wasn’t the first time that he had shown up in the middle of the night, and though he always felt so guilty about it, he knew how it usually ended, with them tucked close to his plastron, as the two cuddled close underneath the comforter, drifting off to sleep, with only a small stream of light creeping in through a small crack in the blinds. And yet, though this was far from his first time entering without prior notice, he was afraid. Afraid that it would be the last straw, that they would turn him away, tired of his company, tired of his existence. Despite his fear, the turtle took a step into their room, and then another. He walked around the perimeter of the room, checking the closet, the blinds, and any other potential hiding spots, before making his way over to the side of the bed. He did not lift the covers, just stood there, blocking the small bit of window light, and casting a shadow over their form. They looked so peaceful that he couldn’t help but just stop and stare, unable to fathom how someone as gruff and rough around the edges as him, someone with a shell even harder than their head, could end up with someone who made them feel so soft. Looking down at his friend, the one he had loved for what felt like several lifetimes before his own, he felt a sense of hopelessness. He loved being close to them, and yet he was so sure that they could never feel anything more than platonic, if even that, for him. Sometimes his brain turned its rudeness towards him, yelling at him that they only ever kept him around out of the kindness of their heart, out of pity, that he was a charity case, that they would never willingly want to be with a mutant such as him. In a moment where he wanted to be close enough to crawl inside their skin, but was to fearful of the rejection, he could only grant himself any sort of reprieve from the tightening of his heart, by lightly brushing his finger along their face, tracing swirls on their cheek. Being with them was as torturous as it was heavenly, they gave him a safe haven when he needed an escape, but with their gift of hospitality, their bright smile and caring eyes had planted a seed of sickly sweetness deep within him. He didn’t know how they had managed to reach through his plastron to tug directly at his heart strings, puppeteering him like a string marionette, but they had and there was no one else he would rather have such control over him. And just as he was about to let his hopelessness consume him and leave, their eyes slowly blinked open, their head lolling to face him as their gaze followed his arm up to his shoulder, jaw, then face. A sleepy, almost drunk-like smile graced their features, and his heart swelled. In a moment of vulnerability, they had smiled at him, so genuinely he was convinced that it couldn’t have been an act of pity.

“Hey, Big Guy.” The exhaustion seeped into their words, slurring them. His voice caught in his throat, and he coughed, clearing his throat.

“Hey.” He replied, trying to pull his hand away from their face, unsuccessfully, as they grabbed his wrist and tugged them towards them, lifting up the covers for him to crawl under. He sat down on the side of the bed, undoing the wraps on his feet and hands, and taking of his belt an harnesses, finally taking off the bandana as well, before finally climbing into bed with them. It was a small bed, twin size at best, which did not leave much personal space between them. He hovered his hands on his side, until they shifted forward, hugging him as they buried their face in his shoulder. “Sorry for waking ya,’ Doll.” They shook their head, nuzzling into him some more in the process.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Raph. You know I’m always happy to have you. It’s been too long.” He gave a light chuckle, caving to the cuddles they both craved, and pulling them even closer to him.

“It’s been three days.”

“Exactly, that’s far too long to be without my love.” Raphael sputtered, and he was sure that if reptiles could blush, that he would be red as the first roses, dyed with the blood of Aphrodite herself.

“You love me? Like, love me, as in, a more-than-friends kinda way?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“’Course I love you, Raphael, you think I’d let anyone else break into my apartment at five in the morning to wake me up for a cuddle sesh? You’re my everything.” As embarrassing as it was, he could feel his tail thump against the mattress behind him.

“You’re my everything too.” Raphael replied. He wanted to tell them that he loved them too, but the words were too heavy in his throat, and too scary for him to let escape just yet, so he settled for mimicking their last sentence, and lowering his beak to gently press against their forehead, to mimic a kiss as closely as he was capable of with his beak. Giving them a tight squeeze, he shuffled even closer to them, nuzzling the top of their head, and drifting off to sleep, with their hearts synching to beat together as a metronome of their affection.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael hamato #tmnt raph hamato #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt raphael hamato x reader #tmnt raph hamato x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt 2012

[blank-house]

Omg I wasn't expecting at all their hobbies?? Mostly Jamie, I love that he reads manhwa! And Deja being a gamer girlie...💘 That's really unexpected. Now then I got even more questions!! These are more basic I guess?

Do any of them have a second language or is English not the first one? With Jamie being an exchange student and Deja speaking to herself another language or so in the demo I got curious about their backgrounds

Sorry not sorry but the haikyuu reference during the volleyball game got me dead 😭 I need to know about the besties hobbies too! Cameron's such a cool character fr

Okay maybe this is kind of spoilerish but... Have any of them had any serious relationship before? The vibes of the demo and it happening on college gives the vibes of first love kinda. Just out there trying to guess! I really am a fan of the trope

Tysm for answering! You just gave me such a detailed answer!! I didn't expect it 🥰 It really shows how much you care about little details when writing hehe

I should start on a master list of facts for everyone to quick nav on tumblr haha but I love your enthusiasm for the cast! Let's get cracking on Q2!

Languages/Background

I was also waiting for this kind of question because I thought about it-- a lot, way too much, in fact lmao. I won't go too in depth about each of their backgrounds, especially since some of it is heavily intertwined with their stories, but I'm happy to indulge the basics!

So down the entire cast, we got:

Percy - Japanese (1st Gen); he's fluent in Japanese and it is his first language but he definitely uses English the most nowadays. He only ever speaks his native tongue when he's at home. He also knows a bit of Hawaiian Pidgin. It's what he picked up from Elio when they came to know each other in high school.

Elio - Hawaiian (Dad)/Thai (Mom); English is his first language but his family makes sure to teach him Hawaiian, Hawaiian Pidgin, and Thai. He's conversational with the first two, especially since that's how his grandparents on his dad's side would choose to communicate with. However, since he doesn't get to visit his relatives in Thailand often, Thai is definitely the less practiced of the bunch. At this point, he can somewhat hold a conversation but it's more like-- he understands the language better than he can speak it.

Jamie - Swedish; Swedish is his first language but he is the biggest polyglot on the team, and I mean big. He's fluent in English and most, if not all, European languages (German, French, Italian- you name it, he can probably speak it). Korean is something he recently picked up, though- just so he won't have to wait for translations for the manhwas he likes lol. Learning languages is easy to him and if he's motivated enough he could be conversational in a couple of months.

Deja - Haitian; English is her first language but she's conversational in Haitian Creole. She only speaks it if she's with family, especially her oldest and more distant relatives, or when exasperated. Deja isn't really in the business of flexing her second tongue since it's not something people immediately close to her use a lot.

Cameron - Nicaraguan (2nd Gen); English is also their first language but they dip into Spanish with their family, especially their grandparents. In the KF world, I believe you wouldn't catch this unless you're fluent in Spanish, but Cameron would speak with Nicaraguan phonology so some of their pronunciations might be weighted with 's' sounds.

Reynah - Filipina (1st Gen); English is her second language with Tagalog as her first. However, after being in the states for so long she's not as fluent in it. It's the same case as Elio and most children who migrate at a young age- Reynah understands better than she can speak. That being said, her accent surprisingly lingers. You hear it when she's angry or speaking fast, and you hear it at the end of her sentences or at a break- that short 'ah' sound Filipinos speak with.

And that's all of them! Though it's probably too redundant for me to note, everyone doesn't have an accent except for Reynah and Jamie. Jamie keeps his Swedish accent even though he's fluent because it's too much effort to use an American accent lol

Hobbies (Deja and Cam)

Aha yeah, gotta sneak in anime references when I can and I'm glad you like Cameron too! They're very endearing to me ^^ But okay bestie hobbies! Def gotta know this since MC's best friends with them. So to start--

Deja

Deja's got a handful of hobbies. Does she have time for all of them? No, but she's got them! And they're mostly to help her unwind. For games, she tends to like the ones that relies on strategies and skill. Platformers are her go-to's as well as party games. She's not competitive in the way Elio is but she'd be damned if anyone took her spot at the top of the leaderboard.

Besides video games, she likes to tend to plants and players can see that their shared apartment is littered with them. If she miraculously got more free time, then she'll pick up a knitting/crocheting project.

However, her favorite thing to do in her pastime are her nails! At the apartment, her and MC would indulge in movie nights/marathons so that she could paint and dry her nails during the duration of the showing. The last thing you'd catch her with is a broken or chipped edge.

Cam

As you peeped, Cameron watches anime! They only watch though- they like the action compared to reading. They've been on the grind for a while so you can consider them a veteran haha. Their favorite genres to watch are Slice of Life's, Sports, Shoujos, and Dramas and Thrillers. I know, I know, that's sort of weird jump from their other favorites lol but they like being swept up into the story line like Percy. So if they start crying about a fictional relationship or jumping on the couch because of a murder mystery- then it's safe to say they're enjoying the show.

Other than that, Cameron really likes art! In fact, it could've very well had been something they majored in! They're that good. But alas, they decided on a pre-law track so painting and drawing remains as a past time.

And of course, who can forget music. They only play one instrument and it's not often, but they love listening to it- especially Kpop. If you look through their car, you might find a photo card or two tucked away somewhere. That, and their albums lying next to their seat. (I'm not supposed to be referencing actual bands but Cameron has slipped into the diamond life iykyk)

Past Relationships

Oh, first love is a good guess! But out of the entire cast, half of them have been in a serious relationship before and that is Percy, Deja, and Reynah. Everyone else either had crushes or went on a couple of dates but never went official with anyone.

I won't go into the specifics for either Percy or Reynah, but since Deja's your roommate and best friend-- conversations about her love life would have cropped up before the start of the game. So at the very least I can say that she's dated a couple of guys during her high school and freshmen college year.

She broke up with all of them pretty quick though haha I wouldn't say she was wasting her time with them- she doesn't date for the sake of it like some might. So every relationship could've been something- but she's got zero tolerance for cheaters or massive fuck ups so they ended up being nothing. C'est la vie

~*~*~*~

And that's that! Phew, these explanations are getting longer and longer so I'm sorry for the word dump but that was fun! Thank you for asking another question!

#percy #elio #jamie #deja #cameron #reynah #keyframes asks #keyframes vn

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[cursedbag]

Author's Note: it's been about a billion years since I've written any sort of fan fiction but I saw a post that was just... inspirational (I don't remember exactly who posted it but it was for sure on Tumblr)

Anyways, warnings: 18+, minors don't interact, not proofread, afab!reader but 2nd pov used, reader is a nepo baby and not into unions, potentially degrading? Idk lmao Nanami might be a little ooc, it's been a hot minute since I read the manga

His Hard Earned Bonus

Lawyer! Nanami x CEO! Reader

Your hands gripped tightly on Nanami's hair as his tongue bullied your clit. His tongue always worked magic when you were stressed. Meetings, clients, your employees' desire to unionize, he would make those trivial problems melt away; legally and sexually.

"Nanamin~" you moaned as he tightened his grip on your thighs. He hummed in response, not pulling away to entertain anything beyond himself. His tie was thrown over his shoulder as he enjoyed his meal with messy slurps. He had your panties in his back pocket with no intention of giving them back.

Nanami was a man who always had a healthy sexual appetite. It's part of the reason why he became a lawyer. The gratification of getting his clients *exactly* what they wanted with the benefit of a solid paycheck behind it. When you first hired him, he couldn't get you out of his head. The cold glances that you'd give your subordinates, the glares you gave to your CFOs and CMOs; it made it near impossible to do his job without some sort of added benefit. Especially with how spoiled and bratty you were (on account that your father was the chairman).

Nanami loved that you were spoiled rotten; it always made his job a bit more exciting than it actually was. You could demand anything and he'd just ask for a deadline. So when the Christmas party rolled around, a well placed mistletoe was all that he needed to seduce you. Sure, there would have to be secrets for the sake of both of your careers but Nanami relished in the secret little rendezvous he planned.

"It's almost like you want to get caught," you chided with a soft moan. As if you wouldn't love something like that, to be caught with the hot blond lawyer between your legs as he feasted on you like you're the only thing he ate. You pulled at his hair, earning a groan from his lips that vibrated against your folds. Your essence dripped down his chin as he looked up at you insatiably. He pulled away, much to your dismay.

"If I wanted you to be bratty, I would have waited until I got to your penthouse," he stood up from his kneeling position, "we wouldn't want a certain chairman to find out that you're taking advantage of a lowly employee."

"As if my father would believe that. Besides, you came on to me. Metaphorically and literally," you winked as he towered over you. "plus..." your hand reached for the obvious tent growing in his pants, "you probably like that you're undermining my father's power by fucking his daughter during your lunch break."

"I think of it more as a bonus, most of the cases you ask me to cover are almost always some sort of impossible," he said before he placed a kiss on the corner of your lips.

You rolled your eyes, "well you always manage to get it done, don't you?" There you go again. Blue blooded, through and through. "Are you going to finish or...?"

"I have a meeting in ten minutes," he says with a sigh.

"... with me."

"And your father," he says as he tugged your pencil skirt to no longer be a clean sign of deviance, "wouldn't want daddy dearest to find me here alone with his CEO."

"Fine," you groaned as you leaned back on chair. You always had the most irresistible pout when you were denied what you wanted. "What about your little friend there?"

Nanami scoffed at the implication, "you were complaining about my *little* friend yesterday. I'll take care of it in the bathroom or something." You wanted to tease him for the imagery he painted in your head; His cold stoicism melting away as he fucked his fist, chasing a high that became harder and harder to satisfy on his own.

You picking up your phone and quickly dialed a number as Nanami watched you. "Hi daddy," you spoke sweetly, "I was just wondering if we could push back that meeting? I totally got food poisoning earlier and I was just about to go home." Nanami wanted to burst out laughing at your pathetic excuse, all just so that you could get your daily fuck in.

"Really? Oh thanks daddy... yes, I'll have Nanami take me home right away," you looked at him with a devious smirk before hanging up the phone.

"So I'm a personal chauffeur now?" Nanami teased as he stood by the door as you grabbed your coat, "what will my bonus be for that?"

"You act as if I didn't just do you a favor," you said as you slipped into your coat, "come on, I have to make it look at least a little believable." You leaned on his shoulder before he wrapped an arm around you and walked you to his car in the parking lot. The short walk and elevator ride felt hours long, even longer when Nanami got a call from his actual boss.

"Sir?" Nanami answered the phone, acting oblivious.

"Nanami! Would you be a pal and take my precious angel home and work from there? I'm sure they'll be so disappointed that they couldn't do work because they're a little sick," your father wasn't a successful business man because he was a smart man.

"Yes sir, I'll take them home right now," Nanami informed as he unlocked the car to let you in. You slipped into the front seat before he closed the door behind him. He hung up his phone as he entered the driver's seat.

"You know... we can't just leave right this moment," you leaned close to his ear. "Daddy will find it suspicious that you'd already have me on the road and stuff," your hot breath tempted him like no other.

"What are you suggesting?" He entertained your whims despite your recent bad behavior. You kissed his cheek as you undid his belt buckle. Nanami didn't move, not because he was particularly shocked at your choice of setting but rather to fully witness you at work. Your hand reached into his pants and wrapped itself around his dick. The warmth of your hand coupled with the sensitivity of his cock forced his head against the steering wheel as you kept a steady motion to taunt him. All Nanami could do is moan out a quiet, breathy, "fuck" and hope that you wouldn't tease him. You pulled your hand away with a mischievous giggle.

"Sorry, Nanamin," you're a liar, "we'll just have to wait until we go to the penthouse."

"...get in the back."

You laughed but it quickly faded when you looked at him again. His brows were furrowed with frustration as he removed his glasses. The green tinted glasses that once reflect you were shoved into the glove box haphazardly as Nanami motioned his head towards the backseat. You felt an unfamiliar heat rise in your chest but did as you were told and climbed into the backseat.

He starts the car wordlessly, driving out of the parking lot. You could practically hear the cogs in his brain churning as it settles to you that you pushed your luck too far. He pulled into your driveway an hour and finally looked at you.

"You think you can just toy with my cock as if it's just a plaything for you?" He climbed into the back with you, his fly and belt still undone. You didn't respond as you caught a glimpse of his tip peaking through his boxers. You bit your lip, hoping that he'll find it in his heart to forgive you and let you get a taste of the semen that stained his underwear. He sat down next to you and pulled his cock out.

"Suck."

His simple demand was listened to in full as you go on your knees and started slowly kissing his tip. Your slow tease grew impatience in Nanami as he grabbed the back of your hair and urged you to take his cock. He groaned softly as you took him in, inch by inch. You swirled your tongue and accepted the semen that had his familiar bitterness. You rubbed your thighs together but received a tug at your hair warning you not to push your luck again. You bobbed yourself up and down, looking up at him for approval as you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter.

"Just like that," he encouraged with a soft groan as he leaned his head back, "you're a good cock sucker, aren't you? Probably ruining my leather seating with how wet you are." You moved your head faster as you felt him twitch in your mouth.

"F-fuck, I'm so close," he panted, his hand following the bobbing of your head. Nanami forced your head down as he came, thick ropes of cum painted your throat white. You sat up and wiped your lip with a cocky smirk.

"You just had to have me, couldn't even wait until we were inside," you teased. Nanami glared at you as he attempted to catch his breath.

"You think you're done?"

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #x reader #fanfic #jjk nanami #nanami smut

[tatatale]

I'll be honest, I usually don't like sending asks because I'm so horrible with text communications (Seriously, there was one time I offended a person here on Tumblr when I just sent a comment saying "Are you going to continue this", I got a monologue about how demotivating this was when I just wanted to know if there was going to be more, I was in the middle of class when this happened and I ended up feeling like shit!), but I love your Au, and I really do, it was one of the first aus i read when i downloaded tumblr but i can only think of one thing when i see your au.

What if the avatars Erin and Ethan (I just now noticed that they are double "e") were able to act on their own, have their own persanities and thoughts?

Just imagine, both having very different personalities than their players.

Lytta is shy and calm, prefers to keep their distance from fights and confusion, but is friendly and hardly gets stressed, Thanatos is playful, doesn't quiet down for anything, looks like he learned to run before walk, extremely sociable and hardly keeps his mouth closed.

And speaking of Ethan, where was he during the entire battle?

Nah, don't be scared to send asks! I'm also bad at texting, but it's something you only learn if you do it! I'm pretty sure the person who told you that it was demotivating said it because you weren't the first person to ask something like that to them.

Usually, when you spend all your free time doing something you love and sharing it for free, the last thing you want is for people to treat you as if it were your obligation and you owe them something. When you take a little break, there are times when you get messages from people demanding that you MUST keep giving them that free content asap, some even insulting or threatening you.

I'm sorry you felt so bad that time, and I'm sorry that person thought you were one of those demanding people, but I'm pretty sure they didn't mean to, and it was all an unfortunate misunderstanding. You can always send them another ask explaining that it wasn't your intention!

(I wrote a lot, lmao)

Anyway! It would be very crazy if the avatars were alive and were so different from the players, changing their personality drastically the moment Erin and Ethan go offline LMAO! Someone once asked if the avatars were alive too, and no, they're just the image of the two of them in the Multiverse. But it's a funny idea!

Ethan was on the sidelines but ready in case his sibling needed his help!

Also thank you aaaa!! I'm glad you like my AU that much T◡T)♥

#Ask #Anonymous #Kao

[sasaranurude]

Coly, the company behind Mahoyaku and Stand My Heroes, have announced a new game. Some friends and I realized that despite looking somewhat generic at first glance, it's got a handful of intriguing things going on with it! So here's a quick kind of long introduction to/my thoughts on Break My Case!

First: the website! The music on the site is really good! Go listen while you read this post!! There are 12 people listed as composers in the credits page, and it seems most every VA involved has at least a bit of experience with singing or music projects. The tone is a bit dark for a rhythm game (though I'm not ruling that out entirely), but otherwise it seems like there's gonna be a music focus. Cool! As far as other staff goes--the main scenario writer is also the writer of Stand My Heroes, and the character designer is Utako Yukihiro, who also did some work for B-Project.

The story concerns a cafe with a myriad of eccentric employees that runs an after-hours service where they solve problems. The exact nature of all this is left pretty vague.

And the draw for a game like this: The characters! Interestingly, they're divided into different departments at the cafe. What exactly those departments do isn't clear yet. As for the characters themselves--the more we looked at them, the more we liked them, lol. Quick summaries about what intrigued us about each guy. Note that these are not translations, none of us are fluent in Japanese (we all know just enough to get by with the google+jisho combo lol), and this should all be taken with a grain of salt.

The Main Office, consisting of Ai Kosaka, Yuzuru Kise, and Roka Suoh. (Names are listed in western given-family order because that's what the site uses for romanized names.) Roka is the one who owns the cafe, is the oldest character in the bunch at 36, and is that fun "mysterious guy with unknown backstory and an endless amount of weird acquaintances, who acts incompetent but might actually be hypercompetent" type of trope.

On account of the whole acting-incompetent thing, Ai and Yuzuru run the actual cafe business. And normally I won't be including fullbody character art in this post but I have to make an exception just this once.

Anyways.

Tumblr won't let me put four images in a row. Come on man. I wanna maintain the BMC's site style. Why are you mean to me. Anyways. The Simulation Department, consisting of Kou Ayato, Mao Ukyo, Akehoshi Hinomiya, and Yuragi Kanno. "Simulation" is its English name given on the site, but the Japanese given would probably read more like "relationship department".

Kou is a footloose playboy and Mao is a serious intellectual type, but apparently Kou will ask Mao to pretend to be his girlfriend so that he can avoid trouble with women. That's gay. I love that. (Mao is a guy [as far as we know], he just likes makeup--he's not the only one in that cast who does, either!) We all want Mao's outfit.

Akehoshi was a sleeper hit in the group chat, because his bio has a sentence about how he's the most normal-looking-yet-dangerous employee at the cafe, and also explicitly describes him as being like a dog, and naturally we all went crazy for the silly puppy as soon as we realized that he was in fact a silly puppy. Yuragi, on the other hand, likes cats. Such a classic for his character design trope, lmao.

The Administrative Department, consisting of Taiga Tsukimoto, Haruhi Ichikawa, and Sei Okiya. Taiga looks cool but if you look at his fullbody he's wearing awful sweatpants and apparently he cries while watching anime. I love this for him. Haruhi is a streamer because that's like an obligatory character trope now I guess. Sei was very popular in the group chat for being the single most suspicious character in the cast. What's his problem.

The Watchdog Department (or enforcement department, if you translate the jpn) consists of Shizuka Fushimi, Takeru Mikado, Soyogu Shinkai, and Shinobu Aizawa.

My friend described Shizuka as a "wet looking glasshole" and yeah. ok. unfortunately he does look like that. But it's ok he's allowed because his bio says he prefers quiet, orderly places with plants and no people and keeps to himself in common spaces but his own room is a complete mess. AKA he's an autism king. So I like him.

Takeru was obviously a hit because look at them. Takeru and Mao talk about makeup together, apparently. CUTE! Shinobu is the most fashionable guy in the cast and his bio says he has a few screws loose, which is amazing. Good for him. I have nothing to say about Soyogu I think I forgot he existed until I was putting this post together and I only looked at these all guys a few hours ago

The Negotiation Department, with Kiho Arima, Kyoya Shido, and Riku Tateshina. I described this group as "grandma, grandpa, and Columbo" and then the group chat couldn't call any of them anything else. And I do mean grandma. Because. ok. another fullbody. Because oh my god we have to look at Kiho.

GIRL. WHAT. IS. THAT. YOU'RE WEARING A CARPET. YOU'RE WEARING A COUCH. kiho is apparently a fortune teller and my friend acted as if this excused the outfit but i DONT agree i don't think anything excuses this. WHAT IS THAAAAAT

Kyoya is an artist and Riku is a psychologist so honestly this is a really fun bunch of jobs going on in this department. Riku is described as someone who falls in love easily, and he's most interested in Ai (from the Main Office, the very first guy in this post). We couldn't tell if the implication there is that he's in love with Ai, or if he falls in love with random people and yet his true attention always drifts back to Ai. Both of these options are gay.

The ST (special tasks) Department, with Yomose Onda, Yu Nina, Kamiya, and Urara Manami.

Yu had his life saved by Tomose and has now dedicated himself to him, to the point of being ready to die for him. YOU GOTTA LOVE THAT. INCREDIBLE TROPE. UNBEATABLE. GAY AS HELL. All we know from Tomose's side is that he's "fond" of Yu. That's fine I'm sure you can learn to love him. Or learn to hate him. Whatever's more entertaining.

Kamiya has no memory, hence the singular name. I'm sure whatever's going on there is weird and interesting. Urara is the youngest character, at 20. THAT'S RIGHT. THE YOUNGEST CHARACTER IS 20. THERE ARE ZERO TEENAGERS! THE AVERAGE CHARACTER AGE IS AROUND 26. THIS SHOULDN'T BE AS NOTABLE AS IT IS BUT THAT'S GACHA GAMES FOR YOU. Anyways I like Urara because I think he looks like an angry kitty.

Anyways, that's the gist of what we know about BMC--or BreMai, if you wanna go for something closer to the jpn abbreviation--right now. More info might drop at/around Animate Girls Fest, since they seem to be giving out game beta codes there. I don't know if I'm completely sold on it just yet--coly did just have a detective-themed gacha game fail a few months ago with &0. But we're not even completely sure it is a gacha yet, or what kind of gameplay it might have otherwise, so... there's a bit of hope. Maybe it'll be a weird cool dark rhythm game! Who knows!!!

#suchobabbles #break my case #joseimuke

[dreamofbecoming]

pale shadows of forgotten names

so people seem to be enjoying my writing lately, and i realized i never properly posted my first witcher fic on here when i first wrote it- i posted a link to the ao3, but i wasn’t super active in the fandom yet and i didn’t make it readable on tumblr. so i thought i would share it here now, in case anyone is interested, and because it’s nice to have all my writing together in my tag on here

pls note i knew even less about the non-netflix canon then than i do now, so everything about spying is just made up lmao

ao3

geraskier, post-s2, getting together

rating: t

wc: 13k

“Might be best if I stay out of Redania for a while, actually.”

“If you get arrested, I’ll just break you out again. There’s a book there I need, the copy in Kaer Morhen’s library was destroyed. Vesemir said he knew someone in Oxenfurt who might be able to get his hands on one.” Geralt’s tone, as usual, leaves very little room for argument. Luckily, Jaskier has never needed much room when it comes to arguing. Certainly not with Geralt.

“It’s not just that, I really shouldn’t get close to Tretogor anytime soon, either. Especially with Ciri being hunted by half the Continent.” He’s hoping desperately that they won’t ask why, but who is he kidding. His luck is never that good.

“And why, exactly, is Tretogor a problem? Not that we would want to parade around a capital city regardless, but I’m curious. Oxenfurt I get, they’ll be looking for the Sandpiper, I’m sure, or at least the twit that broke out of their jail, but what’s in Tretogor?”

Damn the fucking witch, always too perceptive for her own good. And to think he was almost starting to like her. Well, at least the familiarity of wanting to claw her eyes out is comforting.

Jaskier sighs. He should probably be honest with them if they’re going to travel together, though who knows how long that state of affairs will last this time. Still, he’s not going to risk Ciri. He’d have kept his silence if it were just Geralt and the witch- he already has, in fact, and it worked for nearly 20 years, after all- but Ciri is precious cargo. The rules have changed.

Plus, Yen could probably just read his mind now that she has her magic back. Fucking sorceresses.

Speaking of, “Alright, but not here,” he sighs. “Wait until we make camp and Yen can set up wards or silencing spells or something.” He hasn’t noticed any white owls following them, but she’s always been good at avoiding being seen. That’s sort of the point, he supposes.

“Who do we need wards from, Jaskier? Are you being followed? Should I have left you behind? Did I put Ciri in danger by trusting you?” Geralt’s voice is hard, and Jaskier feels hurt pool in his belly for a moment before cold anger takes its place again.

“Considering I just traipsed halfway across the continent and back, no questions asked, and nearly died trying to help stop a fucking demon from killing her, what the fuck do you think, Geralt? I’ll remind you that only one of us has known and loved her since she was small. Do you really believe I would do that to her? To you?” And maybe that last bit wasn’t really meant to come out, certainly not in that small, sad little voice, but Jaskier is nothing if not a master of pushing through slip ups and missed lines. He’s a goddamn professional. He doesn’t let his expression change where he’s glaring up at Geralt’s stupid, angry, handsome face. Fucker.

He’s traveled with Geralt a long time. Almost a quarter century, on and off (including this last year, which was most decidedly off), more than half of that physically by his side. He knows the Witcher’s face better than he knows his own, and he can predict Geralt’s reaction in almost any scenario you care to name. A perceived threat met with scorn will make him double down on his anger, almost guaranteed. Jaskier knew this going in, but he didn’t spend half a year belting his rage and betrayal to every student and passing traveler in a hundred miles (not to even mention the whole ‘living through a massacre’ thing) to be cowed by Geralt’s glower now, no matter how distressingly sexy it may or may not still be. Or how it maybe still makes his stomach twist with something sick and anxious at the idea of having disappointed him. Again. Fuck that. Geralt has no right to be disappointed in him, not this time.

So naturally he’s a little shocked when, after a few more seconds of unreasonably attractive scowling, Geralt, improbably, backs down.

He heaves a sigh where’s he’s perched on (new) Roach, a sleeping Ciri safely ensconced in his arms on the saddle in front of him. His eyes fall shut for a moment, and when they open, the cold fury is gone, replaced with something that looks a lot like…regret? Sadness? It’s hard to tell in the dark, but regardless, the air of melancholy around him right now is out of character for this particular situation, and extremely disconcerting. Jaskier is definitely disconcerted.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Jaskier. I do trust you. There’s a cave not far from here, it shouldn’t be too hard to secure. We can make camp soon.”

Was that…an apology? An actual, genuine expression of remorse, unprompted and freely given? He pokes Geralt’s upsettingly firm calf, staring incredulously.

“Are you really Geralt? Do I need to check you with silver or something? Yen, read his mind. Is he some kind of Doppler? Is this actually our Witcher?”

Geralt’s face is flatly unamused, and he kicks out to swat Jaskier’s hand away. Luckily, Jaskier has decades of practice avoiding Witcher speed for annoyance purposes, and pulls his hand back before Geralt can accidentally break his fingers or something. At least, he thinks it would be accidental. Probably.

Atop her borrowed mare, curtesy of Kaer Morhen’s surprisingly impressive herd, Yen raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Geralt’s obvious irritation. “It’s a fair question, Geralt. Immediate, unsolicited apologies for bad behavior are not exactly your brand.” Jaskier is grudgingly impressed that she manages to keep the arch look on her face despite his current frigid distance from her. Apparently they’re not back to mutual teasing levels of familiarity yet, though he’s sure it will only be a matter of time before they’re back to forgetting he’s there mid-sentence to go fuck like stupidly attractive, scary, powerful rabbits. Won’t that be fun to live through again.

Geralt glares harder. Jaskier can’t actually see his face well enough to be sure, but he can always feel when Geralt is glaring, and the angry face quotient in the air definitely goes up a few degrees.

“Cave’s just up here. Jaskier, start setting up camp. Yen, wards. I’ll get Ciri and the horses settled and find something for supper.” He nudges Roach’s flanks and pulls ahead, aiming for a little gap in the trees near a rocky outcropping Jaskier can just barely make out in the scant moonlight. Conversation over then, at least for now.

Yen looks vaguely affronted. “Is it always like this? Traveling with him?”

“What, the glowering? Or the barked orders and being left behind?” If perhaps those words are a touch more bitter than they would have been a year and a half ago, well. That’s no one’s business but his own.

“Both, I suppose? The time I’ve spent with him has rarely been on the road, but he’s never been quite so…demanding. We didn’t exactly do much talking on the way to Kaer Morhen. I’m quite sure he would happily have killed me, or at least have been actively trying to shake me and leave me in the dust, if he hadn’t been so focused on getting to Ciri as quickly as possible.” There’s something brittle and harsh in her tone that feels uncomfortably familiar. It’s far too much like the heavy weight in his ribcage these days, sharp-edged and desperate and miserable.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!” The hurt and dread freezing his blood in his veins, ice cold and inexorable. The awful silence, waiting for him to take it back, to laugh, to say it was all a horrible joke, or even a dream. The yawning pit of heartbreak and despair that started to rend his chest open, as the reality set in that this was actually it, actually the end, after everything-

Nope. No. Absolutely not. He is done with that, thank you. He is quite finished reliving that moment again and again (and again), he has put it behind him, he is a different man now. A stronger man. A man who won’t betray the loyalty he promised so long ago, but who refuses to let his heart back into the mix this time. He wrote a song about it and everything.

Funny how he almost believes it.

“Oh, I’m sure he was always far more…solicitous with you, darling. This is pretty much standard. The apology is new, and I’m a little surprised he’s letting me set up camp unsupervised,” (this is said with an impressively deep eye-roll, of course), “but besides that, yeah.”

He should be offended that he’s surprised to be given that responsibility, probably. He’s actually a remarkably competent traveler, both with company and without, but even towards the end it rarely occurred to Geralt that Jaskier managed to survive by himself for months or years at a time, or that the camp ended up much the same as it started even when he felt the need to redo all of Jaskier’s work, or that he wasn’t the one cooking the food he hunted or patching his own wounds when Jaskier was around. Not even the handful of times their camp was targeted by bandits, and several of them were already dead by the time Geralt got to them, seemed to register. Or all the times he came back addled and injured from a hunt, and Jaskier knew exactly which potions he needed to recover, and where to find them. Jaskier isn’t sure the great White Wolf ever even noticed a difference. He’s once again a little amazed that it took him so long to see it, that those furious words on the mountaintop actually managed to catch him by surprise. Love really is blind, he supposes.

The cave isn’t huge, but there’s enough room for four bedrolls and a small fire pit without having to snuggle up too close to each other, and it’s dry and lacking in horrid smells or angry monsters, so Jaskier has definitely seen worse.

Roach is tied near the cave entrance, under a small overhang jutting out from the rock to provide her some shelter from the elements. He wants to ask what happened to the old Roach, his- well. Not his Roach anymore, he supposes, not for a while, but he was still fond of her. It had taken years to win her over, but they were good friends by the end, he thought. Certainly she was freer with her affection than her rider. (Which, he realizes now, probably had more to do with his dearth of affection actually available than with his crushing emotional incompetence.) It isn’t really his place to ask, not anymore, but he wishes he could. New Roach is fine, she’s admittedly beautiful and probably a lovely animal, but he misses his friend.

Jaskier has the camp fully set up and a small fire going, near enough to the entrance not to fill the cave with smoke, but far enough inside so as not to be easily seen, and Yen has left her mount next to Roach, filled their waterskins, and is finishing up with the last of the wards shielding them from being found or overheard, when Geralt returns bearing…an entire deer. Fucking overachieving cockhead. He’s cleaning that shit himself, Jaskier isn’t interested. It definitely isn’t sexy seeing Geralt stride in, slightly blood-spattered, biceps bulging, thighs flexing, evidence of his prowess slung easily over his shoulders like a king’s mantle…nope. Not sexy at all. Jaskier isn’t even looking. He certainly isn’t biting back an embarrassing whimper.

He turns around hastily to begin rummaging through his pack for his spices and cooking supplies, filched from Kaer Morhen, of course, since all he had on him when Geralt found him in Oxenfurt was his charm and good looks. He wishes he had his lute, but it’s probably in pieces, rotting in a rubbish heap in Redania. He’ll mourn her at some point. Besides, he’s not sure he would be able to stop himself playing Burn, Butcher, Burn just on reflex, so it’s probably for the best.

They eat a decent supper of venison stew, Ciri waking just long enough to scarf down a bowl and collapse back onto her bedroll. Demon possession and Sphere-jumping really seem to take it out of a person.

Yen tosses another silencing charm around Ciri’s bedroll (they’ll fill her in tomorrow- they don’t intend to keep secrets from her but she deserves her sleep) and Geralt gets to work packing the leftover venison in salt for the road, before they both look up at him expectantly with eerily similar, piercing gazes. Violet and gold, a royal combination if ever there was one. Oh, that’s nice actually, there’s a song in there somewhere. Not one he wants to sing, really, but he’ll probably end up writing it at some point anyway.

“Alright, sharing time, I guess. Always figured this was coming eventually. Not that I imagined anything like this, what with the demons and the horrible rock monsters and the dimension hopping and- yes, yes, alright, I’m getting to it. Calm down.” He heaves a sigh. Hopefully they don’t toss him out on his arse after this, or just kill him. He doesn’t think they’d kill him. Would they? No, they wouldn’t. Probably.

“So you know I’m technically Redanian.” Yennefer nods expectantly while Geralt just. Blinks at him. Fucking gods, honestly. “Wow, ok, you really never paid attention at all when I talked, huh? That makes sense, actually. I guess I should have figured that.” He’s staring into the fire to shield the hurt in his eyes, so he misses the matching look on Geralt’s face before he presses on.

“Anyway, yeah, I’m Redanian, from Kerack, Lettenhove to be specific. Seriously? I’ve introduced myself to a dozen people in front of you with my full name, you really never- ok, yeah, right, never mind. Moving on. Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. That’s me. Or, it was. Technically it still is, but I never wanted the title. I never wanted that life. I left for Oxenfurt as soon as I was old enough, and when I graduated I went on the road, and then. Well. Then I met you, and, well, you know. You were there. For the rest. Some of it, anyway. Right. Well, Vizimir, or more likely someone on his council, since Vizimir is about as savvy and creative as a garden slug, and almost as charming, and I’m not sure if Dijkstra was advising him at that point-“ He catches Yennefer’s sharp look at Dijkstra’s name, but barrels on, “-anyway, someone noticed that a minor Redanian noble was doing a lot of very visible traveling all over the Continent and associating with a lot of people the Crown wouldn’t normally have an in with, and figured that would be useful. I think at this point, we’d been traveling together…2? 3 years? Something like that. Long enough that I’d started building a name for myself, definitely. Or, for us, I suppose. That’s why they noticed me in the first place.”

He knows he’s babbling, but there are nerves roiling in his gut like a cauldron, and that feeling has always translated into more words, for him. Like a pressure valve. He pauses and risks a glance at the person whose reaction he’s genuinely worried about.

Yen will understand, she’s been in and out of courts and noble circles and political tangles for decades, she knows how this works. She probably won’t trust him, but he’s fairly sure she doesn’t trust him now, so that’s no great loss. He doesn’t trust her either.

Geralt has a more…rigid concept of morality. In Geralt’s world, there are Right Things and Wrong Things. Sometimes you have to do Wrong Things to prevent Wronger Things, but that doesn’t make them not Wrong. And anything to do with kings and courts is usually Wrong. There’s a good chance Geralt might never forgive him for this, or if he does, he won’t be able to look past Jaskier keeping it from him so long.

Geralt’s eyes are fixed on his face, sharp and intent, and utterly unreadable. Jaskier thought he had gotten pretty good over the years at reading the subtle shifts in Geralt’s expressions- the tiny crinkles around his eyes when he wanted to laugh, the minute furrow between his brows when he was confused, the slight tick in his jaw when he was frustrated- but his face is as blank as new parchment right now, nothing but the glint in his golden eyes that says he’s listening to every word out of Jaskier’s mouth.

What a time for him to start doing that, he thinks bitterly. Decades of tuning him out when he thought they were friends, and now that Jaskier might be driving him away for good (again, a tiny voice whispers viciously), he’s hanging on every syllable.

“I was approached by a member of the royal intelligence service, and told that the king had ordered that I be recruited as a spy. Technically I am still nobility, and as such I’m obligated to obey the crown. And while I would gladly give up all the trappings of my title and never be anyone but Jaskier the bard ever again, at the time there would have been serious consequences for refusing, and not the kind that would fall on me. I’m technically a Lord, and I do have people I’m responsible for. I left people in charge that I trust to take care of them in my stead, but it’s my name they’re working under. And if I refused a direct order from Vizimir, I wouldn’t be the one to suffer for it. It wasn’t an option.”

He doesn’t look up from the fire. He doesn’t want to see the expressions on their faces, so he presses on, heart thumping wildly in his chest.

“I did my best to keep my reports…not vague, exactly, but mostly useless, I guess? Obviously I have no interest in being a part of whatever bullshit Vizimir or any other king feels like stirring up, but I had to send them something. Little stuff, mostly, frivolous gossip from the taverns I played in, details of drama and rivalries I picked up in various courts or nobles’ beds. Sometimes accounts of monster populations or incidents if there was anything especially notable, since they knew that’s a lot of what I was doing with my time. Nothing actionable, but useful enough that I couldn’t be accused of shirking my duties.” He’s suddenly struck with an awful fear, and he looks up desperately into slitted golden eyes. “I never said a word about Ciri, Geralt, you have to believe me. I told them about that night, and I had to mention that Pavetta had magic because there’s no way that wouldn’t get out some other way, but I never said a word about a Witcher claiming a Child Surprise. I would never risk her like that, or you, you have to believe me. Please say you believe me Geralt, whatever you think of me, that I would never betray you like that. Please.”

He knows he sounds frantic, that he must look insane, that he can’t stop his begging mouth like a runaway cart, but the thought of Geralt thinking even for a second that Jaskier would ever put orders from a king he cared nothing for over Geralt’s own life, over the life of a child, is a knife in his gut, twisting and pulling until Jaskier thinks he might vomit if Geralt doesn’t say something.

The blank expression is gone, and Geralt looks somewhat taken aback. His brow furrows a little in what looks like confusion, before settling into resignation, or maybe chagrin. Jaskier thinks for a moment that he sees a brief flash of what almost looks like…grief? That can’t be right…in his eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it appeared, and Jaskier thinks he must have imagined it.

Geralt takes a swig from his waterskin and draws in a deep breath before speaking.

“I wasn’t worried that you betrayed Ciri, Jaskier. I know you would cut off your own arm before you did something like that. I don’t love where it sounds like this story is going, but I promise, I’ll never be concerned about that.”

That’s…well, those are more words than he was expecting, surely. And different words than he was expecting, too. He would assume that Geralt is placating him, to calm him down and get him to finish talking, but he can hear the sincerity in his voice. Geralt’s eyes are almost imploring, as if he’s as anxious for Jaskier to believe him as Jaskier had been to be believed. He…isn’t sure what to do with that, actually.

He knows Geralt came back for him, knows he was at least not lying when he said he missed him (though how much is anyone’s guess), knows he trusts him to travel with his…his little family, to help keep them safe or at least not make things worse, but he never assumed it went beyond that.

Geralt was clear, on that mountain. Even if he’s sorry now, even if he missed having him around, he meant those words at the time, and Jaskier has no illusions that he won’t get to that point again. Geralt may have spat those words in helpless anger, may have turned his ire on someone who had nothing to do with the state he was in at that moment, but Geralt doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. He says plenty of things he regrets, but he always means them at the time. He did, at one point, believe Jaskier to be a curse and a burden, and Jaskier is fully aware that he will come to that belief again, eventually.

He knows what that particular heartbreak feels like, now. He knows he can survive it, even if he wishes he wouldn’t, sometimes. Mostly, he knows that it will always, always be worth it. Geralt will always be worth it.

Gods but he’s a lovesick fool.

But now, instead of cold distain, or fiery wrath, or, worst of all, blank indifference, Geralt is looking at him like…like he’s sorry. Like he’s desperate for Jaskier’s forgiveness. Forgiveness for what? Jaskier is the one who hid the fact that he was a spy for most of their relatio- friendship. Acquaintanceship. Association. Whichever one wouldn’t piss Geralt off. Geralt hasn’t fucked up here, this time at least.

But he could never resist when Geralt asked him like this for anything, with genuine emotion instead grunted contempt, with even the vaguest hint of affection, like maybe Geralt enjoyed spending time with Jaskier, too. Like maybe Jaskier mattered to Geralt, at least a fraction of how much Geralt mattered to Jaskier. Gods above, he’s so weak for this man.

“Ok. Alright, good. That’s good. I’m glad. Thank you. I know I- anyway. Thank you. Right, where was I? Yes, ok, reports. So I kept myself mostly useless for pretty much the whole time we were together. I mean- not. Not together, obviously, but traveling together. As friends. Or not friends. Whatever. What was I saying?” He’s spiraling, fuck, he’s spiraling, he needs to get out of this, how does he get out of this?

Geralt is looking even more confused than before, but Yennefer is definitely laughing at him in her head. Witch. Like she isn’t just as much of a mess for him. She should be on his side! They bonded over this already and everything!

At least the indignation is enough for him to pull out of the whirlpool of awkward babble and self-sabotage he was trapped in, and he manages to right himself.

“Anyway! Ok! So! Right, well, things changed not quite a year ago, now, after the raid on Bleobheris.” He sobers at the memories, the scent of blood and the sound of screams suddenly heavy in the dry air of the cave. “It was…brutal. I’ve never seen anything like that, not in all my years Witchering with you. I wanted to help. I needed to do something, to…fix something. Anything, no matter how small. That’s when I was contacted by an anonymous benefactor, who offered to fund an effort to smuggle refugees to Xin’Trea. Word had spread about Nilfgaard’s alliance with the elves, that they could be safe there.”

“So the Sandpiper was born,” Yennefer says.

“Right. But I don’t like not knowing where my help is coming from and why. I may not have been a very useful spy in Redania’s eyes for the last 20 years, but it actually takes quite a bit of effort to be ineffective without being useless enough to fire or kill, and as it turns out, I’m actually quite good at it. Call it the performer’s heart in me, or something. So I was able to ferret out that the man behind the money was Sigismund Dijkstra, who had managed to get himself appointed spymaster to Vizimir, which, interestingly, made him my employer, as well as my benefactor.”

Yen looks up sharply again at Dijkstra’s name. Jaskier turns to her, curious.

“You’re familiar, I assume?”

“He’s been causing rifts at Aretuza, riling up the Brotherhood,” she says, brow furrowed. “Pretending to bring counsel and information but really just sowing discord. I’m not clear on the details, but I know elves were mentioned. There are those on the council who take issue with my heritage, so I try to keep on top of the rumors. I wasn’t at Aretuza for long, though, and I…didn’t exactly leave on good terms. I haven’t got many friends left there.” Geralt glances at her sympathetically.

Jaskier nods. “That sounds like him. I wouldn’t trust that man to clean my privy, much less provide thousands of crowns, probably from Vizimir’s coffers, for a worthy cause with no expectations of repayment.” He shakes his head. “I kept my suspicions to myself, though, the network needed the coin and regardless of his motivations, we really were helping people. I wasn’t going to let that go to waste.

“I guess, with me finally settling in one place for so long, and probably Dijkstra feeling like I owed him for the funding, even though I wasn’t meant to know it was him, they started expecting more from me, in terms of intelligence. I didn’t really have a choice, since now they always knew where to find me if they wanted to cause me problems, and besides, Dijkstra was already privy to the network’s efforts anyway as the main benefactor, so I figured it was mostly alright that I’ve had to give more…comprehensive reports to Vizimir the last several months.

“Since Cintra fell, most people know about Ciri, or at least that she’s on the game-board somehow. There are rumors of Nilfgaard searching for a Witcher, so I’m sure some people have put together that you’re involved somehow, but I don’t think too many of the courts, at least, have details. Just that Nilfgaard wants her and maybe there’s a Witcher involved. I made sure not to include too much information that they didn’t already have, but I can’t say for sure what every Northern king knows, or what the Brotherhood knows.” He glances at Yen, who shakes her head and shrugs.

“Anyway, so that’s the meat of it. The concern is that since I became an actual useful asset for them, they’ve been keeping a much closer eye on me. That’s why I was worried about the wards.”

“Alright, I can understand all of that,” Geralt cuts in. “I don’t like that you kept it from me, but I can’t fault your choices. You’re right that we can’t have them sniffing around you, not with Ciri in your orbit.” He frowns. “Would it be possible for you just…fall off the map? Disappear? Redania can’t demand anything from a missing viscount.”

Jaskier winces a little. “I would love to do that, the problem being that Dijkstra works closely with Tretogor’s court mage, who has the charming little talent of transforming into a bird whenever she wants.”

Yen’s eyebrows both go up this time. “Phillipa? She’s quite impressive. A little too entrenched in political intrigue for my taste, but I can’t deny she’s talented. Tissaia speaks very highly of her, certainly.”

She looks thoughtful as she gazes at him over the fire. “You’re worried she’s following you, then? For information on Geralt, since everyone knows Jaskier the Bard is the man to talk to if you want to know about Witchers.”

Her tone is…teasing? Is she teasing him? First hugging, and now teasing? Yeah, he’s not dealing with that right now. He sticks out his tongue at her (he does still have a bantering streak to uphold, after all) before nodding.

“I don’t know for sure  if she was in Oxenfurt when Geralt broke me out. I don’t think so, but I certainly wasn’t combing every tree for owls, and there’s no chance of me noticing her out here in the woods. I’m just hoping that if she were around now, you’d sense her, Yen, and that she wasn’t able to bring back anything about Ciri or Geralt or Kaer Morhen to Dijkstra. Or you, either, since the Brotherhood are so unhappy with you.”

Yen looks surprised and very slightly pleased to be included in Jaskier’s concern. Or at least Jaskier thinks that’s the expression he can parse under her normal very scary murder face, which he finds is almost a relief to see. The soft regret and concern of recent weeks has been…unsettling. The sun rises, the rain falls, Yennefer of Vengerberg is gorgeous, aloof, and terrifying. This is the natural order.

Geralt is wearing a pensive expression, frowning slightly at where Ciri lies, sleeping peacefully. Dear girl, Jaskier hopes she isn’t having any nightmares. She’s been through hell lately, and she’s always had trouble sleeping anyway. Jaskier wonders if he can find the name of that tea Mousesack used to give her to help her sleep. Jaskier even tried it once or twice, when winter nights in Cintra without his Witcher’s soft, even breaths became too much; the stuff worked wonders.

“Alright,” he says eventually, nodding. “I’ll see if I can go to Redania myself, and leave you two with Ciri until I can get back. We’ll keep our campsites warded if we can, Yen, I don’t want you to wear yourself out, but some protection would probably be best. Are you able to see if you can sense anyone from here, or do you need to go outside the wards?”

“I’ll do a lap around the area, but there’s a chance anyone who is out there will sense me as soon as I start casting about. It would be best if you all stayed here, to protect Ciri in case someone actually has come for her.”

“I don’t like any of us going out alone, Yen, especially with the express intention of seeking out danger. I should go with you.” Geralt makes to stand and grab his swords from beside his seat, but Yennefer waves him back down.

“You’d only distract me, and besides, do you want to leave the totally untrained sorceress and the normal human alone here?” Jaskier makes an affronted squawking noise.

“Hey! I’m plenty competent, thank you!” He prudently ignores the minor inaccuracy of his humanity, and instead huffs at the matching incredulous looks he receives. “Rude. Honestly, I get no respect around here. I survived just fine on my own for years, you know! Besides, I traveled with a reckless idiot Witcher for 20 years, you pick up more than you’d think.” He glares at them both until Yen smirks and Geralt looks baffled and vaguely offended, but at least they both look away, which is an improvement.

Until the two of them end up in a stare off, clearly having some sort of emphatic conversation with their eyes alone, and Jaskier has to turn away to start putting away the cooking supplies they won’t need for breakfast tomorrow. He’s warming up to Yennefer, much to his chagrin, but he’s had quite enough of watching the man he loves eyefuck someone else, for this lifetime and the next, thanks ever so.

He hears Geralt huff, a sound he recognizes as him realizing whoever he’s arguing with is just going to do as they please anyway, and he might as well make the best of it.

He made that sound at Jaskier a lot. Usually when he talked his way into coming along on hunts, but really any time Jaskier wanted something from him beyond some seared rabbit, a fire to sleep beside, and monosyllabic grunts in response to questions (if he was lucky)- a night at an inn, a stop at a local festival, an actual hot bath with herbs and flowers and scented oils. Arms to hold him on especially cold nights, when blankets weren’t enough to warm (mostly) human skin.

Jaskier used to think it was cute. A game, just for the two of them, Jaskier pushing, Geralt pulling, or the other way around, always meeting in the middle (or, more often, closer to Jaskier’s side) with what Jaskier had always assumed was mutual amusement and affection. He knows better now.

There’s the telltale swish of Yennefer’s skirts, a strange popping sensation in his ears, and then the feeling of the wards coming back up behind her.

The silencing spell around Ciri is still up, as far as he knows, and she’s dead to the world besides, so it’s just him and Geralt now.

It isn’t the first time they’ve been alone since Oxenfurt, but it is the first time since Jaskier was invited (by Ciri, it should be noted, not Geralt) to travel with them as a companion, not as backup.

That one still stings, if he’s honest. He held out hope for months that Geralt would come back for him, would seek him out with a stuttered apology (or more likely a silently offered ale and an invitation to come with him to his next hunt).  Maybe at a tavern, or the Seat of Friendship, or even a ball or musical competition where Jaskier was playing. He knows how much Geralt hates getting dressed up, how much it would have meant for him to go to that effort just to see Jaskier.

He imagined seeing him sitting silently in the back of one of his lectures one day, watching the lesson with quiet affection and waiting for him to be finished so they could talk. Imagined hearing the sound of Roach’s hooves coming up behind him on some backroad to nowhere while he strummed his lute in the sunshine.

He imagined a thousand different reunions, a thousand apologies, a thousand ways for them to turn back the clock. (During some of the longer nights, when he was alone in his rooms staring out at the moon through the window, wondering if Geralt was lying on his bedroll in a forest clearing somewhere staring up at the same moon, he imagined a thousand different love confessions. But he has no intention of admitting that to anyone but his own foolish heart. He may be a bard, and a hopeless romantic, but there’s no need to bare all of his weeping wounds, especially when there’s no hope of healing them.)

For all his daydreaming, he never imagined that Geralt would seek him out only when he needed an extra set of hands and all his other options were exhausted. Never imagined he would be not just a tool to be used, but the last resort as well.

He shouldn’t be surprised, after everything, but the knowledge that he was never really anything else to Geralt still aches like a broken rib, flashes of pain shooting through his chest with every inhale.

This is the first time they’ve been alone together without an immediate crisis, without a clearly defined mission beyond the open road, just like it used to be.

Except nothing like it used to be, because how it used to be is gone. It will never be that way again. Geralt burned those memories down, with words as sharp as swords and as destructive as dragon fire.

Jaskier has no fucking idea how to deal with this.

“Jas-“ Geralt cuts off and clears his throat. Jaskier can hear him gulping from his waterskin before trying again. “Jaskier.”

“Yes?” He tries to keep his voice light, but he doesn’t turn around.

“Jaskier, can we. Can we talk? Please?”

It’s the ‘please’ that does it. Geralt so rarely says please. Jaskier may need more than his fingers to count the times he’s heard it directed at him, but he can still remember each one in perfect clarity. Besides, they had more than 20 years together, “more than 10” is still not exactly a stellar ratio.

Jaskier’s resolve breaks (did he ever really have any? Has he ever had any when it comes to this man?) and he turns, schooling his face into something meant to look bright and open. He’s not sure how well it works. “Of course, Geralt. What’s on your mind?”

“I-“ Geralt looks…lost. He looks like he has absolutely no idea how to get where he’s going, and it’s killing him. Jaskier crumbles.

“You’ve already apologized, Geralt, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ve forgiven you. You were angry, you needed a target, I was there. It’s behind us.” He looks at the fire, for lack of anything else that isn’t Geralt’s stupid awful gorgeous face, wishing desperately he had his lute. He never felt awkward with his lute. Never rubbed anxious circles around his calluses for lack of anything to do with his hands. Never sat in a silence so painful he wondered if his ears would bleed.

Geralt lets out a breath like he’s trying to remember how. “That’s not. I mean it is. But. I. Fuck.” Jaskier looks up from the fire to see him scrubbing a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. The adorable fool manages to get his hand tangled in the locks when he forgets about the band holding half of it back from his face.

“Oh for Melitele’s sake- stop moving, you lug, I’ll fix it. You’re going to tear it out in chunks if you keep pulling like that, just hold still, or I’ll have to rewrite all the songs to be about The Bald Wolf instead. Ye gods, Geralt, how did you survive without me? Honestly.” He’s across the cave and kneeling behind Geralt on the other side of the fire before he consciously registers the decision to move. Fucking hells, even his own body is against him.

He has his hands in Geralt’s (soft, silky, gorgeous) hair, untangling it gently from where it’s wound itself tightly around his (scarred, strong, beautiful) fingers. He thinks he hears Geralt’s breath catch, but he’s too distracted trying to keep his own lungs working at all to focus on it.

Once Geralt’s hand is free (and does Geralt seem as reluctant to let go and put his hand back in his lap as Jaskier is to let him?) Jaskier sets to work on the much more finicky task of removing the band without pulling half of Geralt’s hair out with it, which would honestly be a crime against…well, anyone with eyes really. Jaskier may be in love with him, but he’s also seen a truly exorbitant number of beautiful people across the continent, many of them naked, so he thinks he’s fairly qualified when he says that Geralt is one of the most singularly stunning people on the face of the earth, bias or not. Especially now that he seems to be taking better care of his hair than he used to when Jaskier wasn’t around.

Jaskier is actually rather shocked at how well-kept Geralt is. His hair is smooth and soft and clean, and smells like…is that apple blossom? That’s one of Jaskier’s favorite scents. It never fails to make him feel light and warm, like spring sunshine. He uses it in his own hair more often than the other oils he carries.

Back when washing Geralt’s hair for him was an occasional but deeply treasured privilege of his, Jaskier used to use it for him, as well. That Geralt has somehow, for some reason, gotten some of his own to use during their separation…it makes something warm and fragile stir in Jaskier’s chest. Warm and fragile and dangerous. Hope is easily crushed, and when it is, it takes everything else down with it. Jaskier isn’t doing that again. Not so soon.

He finishes detaching the tie as efficiently as he can, and hands it over Geralt’s shoulder before sitting back on his heels and exhaling violently.

“There you are darling, all fixed. Now,-“

“I didn’t.” Geralt interrupts him, whisper quiet but still somehow deafening over the crackling fire.

“What?”

“Survive without you. I didn’t. Or, I guess I should say I did, but that’s all I did.”

Jaskier has, for once, absolutely no idea what to say, so he tries something new, and says nothing. He’s barely even sure he’s breathing, staring at the back of Geralt’s head and all his moonlit hair like he’s staring into the jaws of a barghest as he waits to see if he will continue.

He does, words falling out of him in a rush like a river pouring through a broken dam, desperate in a way Jaskier has never heard him before.

“I knew I’d fucked up, on the mountain. As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew it. It’s like. It’s like I was a bottle of juice, gone off, going ranker and ranker until the cork flies right out and takes someone’s eye out. I thought I was angry at Borch, at Yen, at Calanthe, at fucking Destiny, at everything. Even you, who hadn’t done one thing wrong. But really it was just me. I was just angry at myself, and there’s. There’s not. There isn’t anywhere for that kind of anger to go. It just builds up and up and up until it explodes, and you with it, and I knew I was going to let it out at someone. And then you were there, and you were trying to help. Like always. You always help. You make everything better, like you were just trying to make me feel better. But I was so angry, and it was all my fault, it was all my stupid selfish choices, the djinn, the wish, Ciri, all of it my fault, and I didn’t deserve to feel better. I didn’t deserve it and I had to make you stop and so. I did. I did it on purpose. I did it because I knew that was the thing to say that would hurt you the most. That would make me a monster like I know I am. Monsters are easy. Easier than mistakes and bad choices. So I made another bad choice and hurt someone else and decided to be a monster.”

There might be tears streaming down Jaskier’s face, but he can’t tell because he can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t hear anything but the rushing in his ears and Geralt’s voice ripping into him with savage, gentle claws.

“Once Yen was gone- It’s hard to think with her around, sometimes. It’s the wish, I think. Everything else gets duller, quieter, a little out of focus. Like in a dream when the only thing you can see clearly is the person you know the dream is about, the person you’re supposed to talk to.” Oh this…this is actually torture. Geralt might actually be killing him because he still can’t fucking breathe and he just keeps talking.

“It’s better now. Maybe it’s Ciri, my Destiny is split between them now so it’s not so overwhelming. Or maybe Ciri is her Destiny too, and now that we’ll always have her, the both of us, the wish doesn’t need to force us to be in love for us to stay nearby. I don’t know. It’s easier now, though. And even easier when you’re here.”

Wait, what? Now Jaskier knows he’s dead, or dying, or hallucinating, or something, because there’s no way that means what he wants it to mean.

“After Yen left, my head started to clear. Things came back into focus. I realized what I’d done, but suddenly I could also see that it wasn’t just what I yelled at you. It was so much more, so much deeper. I had been so awful to you, for so long, and you just. Took it. All of it. Everything I had, all my anger and my fear and my loneliness. You just let me. You always came back. You kept choosing me, even when I was cruel. I was ashamed, but I also thought…” He breaks off with a great shuddering breath, his head hanging.

Jaskier feels a little like he’s floating. Like he can see his body, kneeling there in the dirt behind Geralt, staring at his sculpted shoulderblades with a blind, devastated look on his tear-streaked face. How odd.

Geralt, somehow, impossibly, keeps going. This is more words than Jaskier has heard him say in the last two decades. This is more words than he knew Geralt was capable of saying. Where are all these words coming from?

It’s like all this time, he had been saving these. Stockpiling them, though for what Jaskier can’t begin to guess. A rainy day? An emergency? This? And now the doors of the granary have come loose and the winter stores are flooding the yard and Jaskier thinks he might end up buried alive.

“I thought you’d come back.” Geralt’s voice is thicker, somehow, and oh, gods, is he crying? “I thought you would come back, like before, like always, and it would be ok. And I would try to be better. I would try to be the man you thought I was. And it would be ok. But you-“ He cuts off with another great shuddering breath, and seems to center himself. “You didn’t come back. And that’s when I realized I had finally gone too far.”

Jaskier has been trying to process all of these many, many, many, mostly incomprehensible words, and he’s maybe fallen a little bit behind, because he hears himself cut in with an incredulous “Wait, are you saying that every time you were rude or dismissive to me, it wasn’t just because you don’t know how to conduct yourself in a normal friendship because you’ve never had one, but actually because you knew you were being cruel and you knew you could get away with it because I would always come back?”

Geralt’s head hangs even lower, and Jaskier has to strain to hear his gravelly whispered reply.

“Yes. Maybe not consciously, or in so many words, but yes.”

Jaskier flounders for a moment, wounds he spent the last year trying to close tearing back open even wider than before.

“All this time? You thought so little of me, all this time? I was just a- a- a practice dummy? Something that won’t fight back or feel pain, so you can hit it has hard or as many times as you want?” His voice began at a whisper, to match Geralt’s, but has gotten steadily louder and more tear-filled the more he speaks.

“No, that isn’t-“

“I can’t- I’m not- I need a moment. Please, Geralt I need- Please.” He can’t keep sitting this close to him, feeling his body heat just as warm as the fire he’s blocking Jaskier from, can’t keep listening to his low rumbling voice, like thunder and gravel and home, like a silver sword through the midsection. Not when the pain and the anger and the hope are all bleeding together and he doesn’t know how to feel them properly and he still can’t fucking breathe.

Geralt’s breath hitches, a tiny little wisp of sound, and Jaskier is going to fucking lose it.

“Please, Geralt.” It comes out in a broken whisper, which is more revealing than Jaskier was hoping, but it’s not like he’s managed to hide anything anyway, so it hardly matters.

Geralt nods, back still to Jaskier in front of the fire, and stands smoothly to walk over to a corner near the entrance, where he can see all four bedrolls and the cave mouth clearly. Ready to protect. Always ready to defend. He sinks to his knees and his breathing takes on the familiar cadence of meditation.

Jaskier takes a moment to look at him. At the way his hands are clutched a little tighter on his thighs than they normally would be while he mediates, like he hasn’t managed to purge all the fear from his body the way he has his mind. At the new scars he can see on his forearms and one snaking over his collarbone, scars that Jaskier wasn’t there to bandage and fuss over. At the way his hair spills over his shoulders, still tousled from Jaskier’s fingers. At the single tear track carving a path down one marble cheek.

Jaskier sucks in a breath and turns away before he breaks down and Yen comes back to find him catatonic on the ground.

He ends up standing at the mouth of the cave, stroking New Roach’s neck and petting his hands through her glossy mane gently. Her slow breathing and the familiar warm, earthy smell of horse help ground him, bring him back from that awful frantic-floating feeling, where he was nowhere and trapped all at once.

He chatters to her quietly, just like he did to her predecessor. She, at least, warms up to him much more quickly.

A warm, black nose thumps gently into his chest. “Yes, my love, I know I need to protect my heart. I’m trying! Can’t you see how hard I’m trying?” She nickers softly, more of a puff of breath than a proper sound.

“Well aren’t we feeling smug this evening, sweet thing.” Another thump. “It’s alright darling, I don’t blame you. I think I’m ridiculous, too. I just don’t know how to fix it.” He strokes a hand down her forehead, scritching lightly.

“No, me either. You know what the problem is, don’t you?” She lips at his hair, which he takes as an invitation to continue.

His voice is even quieter now, the barest thread of a whisper, quiet enough that even Geralt might not overhear if he comes out of meditation. “The problem is that I’ve spent all this time coming up with plans and strategies and contingencies for not giving my heart away again, when the truth is I don’t think I ever got it back in the first place.”

He rests his forehead against hers in defeat, tears falling silently again. He’s going to dehydrate at this point, but what does he care when he has a beautiful lady providing him such warm, solid comfort right here?

“I have to say, songbird, this is not what I expected to find when I came back tonight.”

Jaskier does not flail. He is a professional performer, he has immaculate control over his body at all times. And he definitely doesn’t squeak, no bard would ever be caught dead making such an undignified noise unintentionally.

So no, he neither flails nor squeaks, and if New Roach gets very slightly spooked and a lot disgruntled, it was from Yennefer sneaking up out of bloody nowhere like a wraith in the night, and certainly nothing Jaskier did. If either of them say different, they’re lying.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Is this your plan to kill me and make it look like an accident? I’ll tell Ciri, she’ll come after you with her dagger, see if she doesn’t. Ciri likes me. Ciri would avenge me.” He’s  clutching his chest, heartbeat gradually beginning to slow.

New Roach is still giving him a dubious look. That’s rude, this is hardly his fault. It’s Yen she should be grumpy with.

“Well, I was rather hoping that by this point in the evening, you wouldn’t need a miniature Witcherling-sorceress to defend you, since you’d have your big strong Witcher back, but somehow things seem to have gotten worse in my absence. Did he not manage to tell you his real feelings? Bloody Witchers, trust him to be resistant to my recipe, it’s never bloody failed before, if he’s made this worse somehow I’m going to bloody dissect him to figure out where I went wrong-“ She continues muttering darkly while Jaskier stares at her in shock.

His mind is valiantly trying to shake off enough of the lingering fog of tears to pull some of those threads together and figure out what the fuck she’s talking about.

Recipe? Real feelings? Make what worse? Did she…did she dose him with something? Did she put a fucking spell on his Witcher? He might have to have Ciri stab her after all, since he has no illusions about his own abilities to take her in a fight.

“What the fuck are you talking about, witch? What did you give him? What the fuck did you do? I’ll kill you myself you vicious little shrew, see if I don’t!”

She waves a hand dismissively, scoffing at his threats. Admittedly he is not at his best, though in his defense it’s hard to adopt a proper fighting stance when you’ve just spent half an hour kneeling in the dirt while your still-beating heart was slowly diced into bite-sized pieces. Tough on the knees, you know.

“Please, you should be thanking me. It was fucking exhausting, these last few weeks, watching you two throw longing glances back and forth when you think no one’s looking. I’m just trying to help things along.”

“Help- what? What things? Help things along how?” He’s trying very hard to hold onto his righteous anger at her for (possibly?) drugging the man he loves, but she keeps saying things that dredge up that dangerous warm feeling from before, and he’s losing his resolve.

“Nothing sinister, songbird. I’m done with that, I’m on the side of the White Knights now, remember? Have a little faith in me, for Lilit’s sake.” She rolls her eyes, but either he’s getting better at reading her or she’s making an effort to be easier to read, because he can feel the sincerity in her words. “We both know all that nonsense about Witchers not feeling is horseshit, yes?” He nods. Obviously it is, Geralt feels more deeply than anyone he’s ever met. “But I know you also understand how much he struggles to make sense of what he’s feeling, or to make himself heard when he does.”

She’s right about that, too. Jaskier knows the emotions are there, has always known, since the moment he saw Geralt in that tavern in Posada. But he’s watched Geralt get lost in the tangle of feelings inside him so thoroughly that all the words get stuck and nothing comes out. He’s seen it happen hundreds of times. That’s part of why he’s always wanted to badly to sing about him, to tell the world what Geralt can’t, to be the words when he can’t find them.

Yen gestures to the corner where Geralt is still meditating peacefully. “I didn’t do anything to his feelings. Couldn’t if I tried, that’s not really how my magic works, anyway. But I knew there are things he’s been wanting to say, and he’s been suffering for not knowing how. And as antagonistic as we may be, I don’t actually hate you nearly so much these days, and I find myself discomfited by your very obvious pining, as well.” Well, that’s…actually quite sweet. And rather disquieting, if he’s honest.

“So I gave him something to help him articulate himself. It won’t make him say anything he doesn’t want to, won’t force him to reveal any truths against his will or create any feelings that weren’t already there. It just…smooths the way. Untangles all those knots in his head so something coherent can make it out of his mouth. But you two aren’t cuddled up by the fire making me want to vomit, which means it didn’t fucking work, and I have to figure out why!” She looks rather like she would huff and stomp her foot at this, if the great and powerful Yennefer of Vengerberg would ever stoop to something so childish.

Jaskier thinks very hard about the last hour or so of his life. He thinks about Geralt saying “please,” and he thinks about the way all those words fell out of him and just kept coming and coming and coming, like a pot boiling over, piling up in a heap at Jaskier’s feet. He thinks about Geralt crying.

“Well- uh. Hmm. You know, it occurs to me now- it’s funny really, I think you’ll laugh, definitely laugh, not look at me with that petrifying glare you’ve got on right now, no you’ll be laughing I’m quite sure- Alright, yes, ok! Yes! Right, well, um. I think, looking at recent events, fresh eyes and all that you know- I’m just saying, it would have been helpful to have some of this information going in, is all- Ow! Melitele’s tits, that hurt! Do those nails come standard at Aretuza, or were you just born lucky? Ouch! Ok, ok, stop pinching me, witch! Like I was saying, with the benefit of this new information, I think it’s possible your magical intervention whosit thingy may have worked exactly as expected?”

She narrows her eyes. “If it worked, why are you crying to a horse instead of snuggling with your man?” His man. That can’t be right. Can it? Geralt isn’t his. Except. Except for all the things he sounded like he might be gearing up to say when Jaskier cut him off. Fuck.

“I, uh. I maybe. I maybe stopped him partway through and told him I needed a break?” He winces back as her already truly impressive glare intensifies even further- yep, she’s still got it.

“I did not go to all the effort of brewing that fucking potion, tailoring it for Witcher metabolisms, and making it fucking tasteless and odorless so he would drink it, not to mention standing out here in the fucking woods in the middle of the night with nothing to fucking do, just so you could chicken out halfway through getting everything you ever fucking wanted.” Her eyes are glowing violet now, which is. Wow. Scary. She’s so scary. He remembers now why he always thought she was so so scary. She jabs her finger towards the kneeling figure by the wall. “Get the fuck back in there and finish the damn conversation, bard,” she hisses. “I will not deal with this bullshit all the way to the Redanian border.”

She turns to leave again, and Jaskier shoots out a hand to stop her. She looks at his hand on her elbow and he briefly worries he’s going to end the night as a slug of some kind, but she just looks up at him questioningly.

“I just. Fuck. I know- I know this probably wasn’t easy for you. You know I know better than most what you’re feeling right now. But you’re helping anyway, so. Thank you, Yennefer. Even if it doesn’t go like you think, like I hope, you were willing to try even though it hurts, so thank you.” He isn’t sure what his face is doing, but he hopes she can see how genuinely grateful he is.

She smiles a little sadly. “Come on, songbird, We both know he was never really mine. And besides, I’m not the settling down type. Now go, don’t make me curse you.” She shoots him what would be a very passable glare if it weren’t for the slight glimmer of tears in her eyes, then spins on her heel and stalks off into the night.

He turns back to the cave, hesitating for a single moment before there’s an irritated huff, a nip to the sleeve of his jacket, and a frankly unnecessarily forceful shove to his back. He glares back at Roach, who seems unperturbed. “I’ve got entirely too many black-haired gorgeous women trying to run my life right now, do you hear me? Too many!” Roach huffs again. “Fine. I’m going, are you happy?” He takes another step and looks over his shoulder. She looks smug. Of course she does. “I think you’re just the old Roach reincarnated. Never seen another horse look so damn satisfied with herself,” he mutters, but he’s already heading back into the cave, so he figures she’s won this round.

He feels slightly guilty about grabbing Geralt’s waterskin before going to him, but he isn’t sure how long Yen’s potion lasts, or if meditating will have burned more of it off. Maybe it’s disingenuous to give him more without telling him what’s in it, but, weirdly, he trusts Yen when she says it won’t force Geralt to do or say anything he doesn’t want to, and Jaskier isn’t sure he’ll ever get to hear the words otherwise. He’ll tell him afterwards. He won’t keep this secret forever.

He sits down quietly next to Geralt, leaning up against the wall of the cave. He takes one deep breath, then another, and another. He rests his fingers gently on Geralt’s hand where it sits on his thigh. Geralt’s breathing gradually picks up until he’s back to almost his normal, slow rhythm. His eyes open, landing on Jaskier’s hand on his and following the line of his arm back up to his face.

Jaskier hands him the waterskin, and Geralt takes it with a nod of gratitude before taking a long drink. “I’m alright now,” Jaskier says. “I’m sorry I stopped you.

Geralt searches his face, eyes searching Jaskier’s for signs of dishonesty. Apparently finding none, he nods slightly, golden eyes closing again for a moment. When they open, he’s not looking at Jaskier any longer.

Jaskier looks at his hand, fingertips still resting ever so lightly on Geralt’s palm, and considers taking it back. He thinks about what Geralt has told him so far tonight, about the conviction in Yen’s voice when she insisted Geralt had feelings for him. Fuck it, he decides, and lays his hand more firmly in Geralt’s, lacing their fingers together. Geralt draws in a sharp breath and looks up at him in shock, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he grips Jaskier’s hand tighter, like he’s worried Jaskier is going to try to run.

“I know you,” Jaskier says slowly. “I’ve known you for more than half my life, and I know that you aren’t cruel, or callous, or unkind. I know that there is always a reason behind the things you say, and the things you do, even if no one else can see it.” He swallows hard, closing his eyes briefly. Geralt squeezes his hand lightly, which…helps, actually. It helps a lot. “I’m sorry I accused you of hurting me on purpose, for the sake of causing me pain. I was overwhelmed and having trouble processing things, but I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion I know wasn’t true. If you still want to talk, I’m ready to listen now.”

“It wasn’t an illogical conclusion to draw. And it wasn’t even completely wrong.” His voice is calmer than before, measured and even. Not as frantic. The river is still flowing free, but it’s calmed, no longer the violent rush of a broken dam. He sighs, a great, world-weary thing. “It was because you’re safe.” Jaskier looks at him quizzically.

Geralt draws in another deep breath before continuing. “I can’t ever show emotion. Not to humans. Not anger, or fear, or sometimes even joy. The myths about Witchers not having feelings…they aren’t just vicious rumors made up by bigots. They’re there to protect us. From them.”

Jaskier frowns. “You mean Witchers put that rumor out yourselves? But why?” Surely demonstrating how human Witchers really are can only help matters, right?

“In a way.” Geralt tilts his head in the way Jaskier knows means he’s remembering something long past. “It’s part of how we’re trained. We’re taught to suppress emotion, to hide it from everyone, including ourselves. It’s how we’ve done things for 400 years.” His thumb sweeps little arcs across the back of Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier’s heart trips in his chest. He knows Geralt can probably hear it, but it must not worry him and he keeps talking.

“The first Witchers were experiments. Men twisted by mages hoping to combat the monsters that plagued the world. The process has been…refined, since then. At first, they really were- well. More monster than man.” Geralt tips his head back against the rock wall. “Humans were terrified of them. One and all, right down to their bones. The first Witchers didn’t take contracts, because no humans would even speak with them. They just wandered around until they found a monster to kill, and then moved on to the next. Eventually, people started to realize that Witchers were only killing monsters, and leaving humans be, so they slowly started reaching out for help.”

“Ungrateful sods, the lot of them,” Jaskier mutters, and hears Geralt’s quiet huff of laughter in response.

“You’re. You’re so special, do you know that?” Jaskier jerks his head up in surprise to see Geralt’s eyes on his face, liquid gold lit like sunrise by the light of the fire, a tiny smile playing around his lips. “You’ve never been afraid of me. Not once. Not even when the only things you knew about me were that I scowled a lot and I had two very scary swords.” Jaskier flushes at the reminder of the babble that spilled out of his mouth the moment he laid eyes on the single most attractive person he had ever seen in his 18 years of life.

He drops his eyes, knowing there’s no hiding the blush on his cheeks but ignoring it as hard as he can anyway. “What’s there to be scared of? You’re a puppy, not a wolf.” He expects a grumble, or a glare, or for Geralt to ignore him completely. Certainly not the bark of laughter that would have woken Ciri were it not for Yen’s charm. He stares at Geralt’s face, firelight flickering over pale skin, honest joy written in the curve of his mouth, and grins back helplessly.

“You’re the only one who’s ever thought that. Except maybe Eskel.” He laughs again, more quietly this time, then sobers slightly. “Humans are afraid of us. They always have been. Less now, since you,” he squeezes Jaskier’s hand again and Jaskier flushes even darker, “but the first Witchers were barely more than feral, and that impression…stuck. Humanity never got past it. Even when new generations of Witchers were made, when we became something closer to men than to monsters, their fear never went away. Any emotion, even the faintest irritation, was enough to make most humans think a Witcher was about to go berserk, to start tearing out the throats of anyone who got too close. So, we learned to shut them down.”

His eyes are downcast now, and Jaskier thinks of a tiny Geralt, just a boy, younger than Ciri, excited about the world, curious and clever and mischievous, thinks about him learning to hide his heart away until even he couldn’t find it anymore, and he wants to scream. He wants to cry, he wants to rage, he wants to find every human who ever judged a Witcher by his eyes and not his deeds and mount their heads on spikes. He wants to tear out their hearts and make them watch as he throws them on the pyre, burning them out like so many boys were made to burn out their own.

Geralt can smell his turmoil, he knows, and he clings to the comfort offered when he holds Jaskier’s hand as tightly as he can without hurting him, still tracing circles into his skin with his thumb.

“It isn’t safe, to have feelings. Humans may spit on a mutant with a heart of stone, but they’ll hunt and kill a monster with teeth they think will harm them. It’s safer to be cold, to be hard. To let all of it roll off of us like snow off a mountain. And after a while, you forget how to be anything else. You forget that it’s a lie, that it’s something you had to learn. You start to believe it too.” There are tears dripping off of Jaskier’s nose now, but he doesn’t dare interrupt again. “I had forgotten, until you.”

He looks at Jaskier with such naked feeling in his fiery eyes that Jaskier can’t fathom how anyone could believe this man has no heart. “You made me feel. You walked into my life and just-“ He huffs another low laugh, the faraway look on his face impossibly fond. “You just didn’t listen to a fucking thing I said. Ever! Not once! And it drove me up the godsdamned wall. I was going out of my mind, I was so fucking annoyed. You never stopped talking, or singing, or playing that damn lute, you never stayed out of the way on hunts like I told you to, you ignored me whenever I said I didn’t have feelings or I didn’t need anyone or we weren’t friends. And you wouldn’t leave! You just kept coming back, no matter how much of an arse I was, even when I acted in ways that would have made other humans shit themselves, or come after me with torches and pitchforks, or both. You just kept coming back, and you kept not believing me when I told you I was a monster, and you never smelled fucking afraid, and after a while I realized that irritated wasn’t the only thing you made me feel anymore.”

He seems to withdraw into himself a little, his shoulders hunching and his head hanging slightly. He tries to withdraw his hand, but Jaskier isn’t sure he can get through this conversation without it, so he hopes Geralt will forgive him for pushing yet more boundaries and simply holds onto him tighter.

Geralt sighs again, but stops pulling away. “But there’s still so much shit in the world. There are so many humans who hate me, or fear me, or try to cheat me, or who end up being monsters worse than the ones they want me to kill, and the problem with having it smacked over my head that I do actually have feelings, is that it makes it so much harder to ignore them. And there’s so much anger in me, Jaskier, and grief, and loneliness. And I can’t ever show it to anyone, or it will confirm everything they think they know about me. It will make me a monster. It will make me the Butcher all over again.” He looks up again, his expression anguished. “You’re the only one who’s safe. You’re the only one I can be angry around, or sad, or scared, or just annoyed, without thinking the worst of me. You’re the only one who ever comes back.”

Jaskier is back to feeling like his heart is being fed through a sieve, but he thinks he understands what Geralt is trying to say this time. He feels a renewed rush of guilt for assuming the worst of him before. Is he any better than the rest, jumping to the foulest possible conclusion while Geralt wrestles with his tongue to try and make him understand? He turns his head away, closing his eyes against the tears and trying to breathe through the shame.

Fingers grip his chin gently and coax his head back until he’s looking into Geralt’s slitted eyes again. The look on his face is so soft, so open, that Jaskier feels like his ribs are being pried apart at the sight of it. “You have no idea how much of a blessing you have actually been in my life, Jaskier,” and those words just crack his chest wide open and bare his heart to the whole room, don’t they? “I took advantage of you. I wanted so badly to have someone in my life I could show all the darkest parts of myself to, without them running away, that I forgot to show you the rest. And I forgot to help carry your darkness in return. I left you with such a burden, Jaskier, and you never once complained or asked me to help. You have done nothing but give, for as long as I’ve known you, and I wish I could show you how sorry I am that I was content for so long just to take.” Jaskier is pretty sure he’s openly sobbing now, but Geralt is sliding his hand up from his chin to cup his cheek, sweeping the tears away with his thumb, so it’s probably ok.

“Let me make it up to you, Jaskier. Let me be the one to give to you for once. Let me carry your burdens for a while. Let me give you a reason to forgive me. A reason to come back.” His eyes are pools of molten gold, wide and dark and shining with- emotion. An emotion. Jaskier isn’t going to hazard a guess at which emotion, because he isn’t sure he can handle the answer.

“I’ve already forgiven you, you great lummox. For all of it. A safe place is all I ever wanted to be for you. I only ever wanted to give you a home. Like you gave me. Just- just share it with me next time, please? The anger, or the fear? Share it with me first, instead of letting it fester and burn us both. That’s all I need from you.”

Geralt’s hand on his cheek guides him forward until their faces are inches from each other, foreheads resting together. Jaskier’s eyes want to close but he can’t bear to look away, too afraid this is all an impossible dream that will disappear as soon as he opens them again. He can see the way the firelight glimmers off his silver hair, the scars through his eyebrow, the tears clinging to his eyelashes as they sweep gently over his cheeks. He’s never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever deserved you, but I would do anything for the chance to try to be someone who does. I’m yours, Jaskier. You need only say you’ll have me.”

Jaskier is a man of words. He’s a bard, words are his trade, his weapons, the blood in his veins. No matter what else is happening around him, no matter what he has or what he’s lost or what needs to be done, there are always words ready to spring forth from him like water from a spigot. He has never, in all his life, been out of words.

Until now.

Fuck it.

Geralt’s lips are softer than he imagined, given that his skincare routine seems to consist primarily of monster innards. But they’re soft and they’re warm and they move so gently against Jaskier’s that he thinks he might simply melt into a puddle, to be absorbed into the earth and never seen again. The kiss is tender, and sweet, and longing, and not at all how he imagined his first kiss with Geralt would be. It’s perfect. Jaskier breaks it with a watery laugh, keeping his forehead pressed to Geralt’s.

Somehow his free hand has found its way back into Geralt’s silky hair, and he threads his fingers deeper into the moonlit locks and hopes he’ll never have to let go.

“You’re mine?” He knows he sounds a little pleading, disbelief coloring his tone, but he can’t help it. He’s had this dream so many times, he needs to be sure it’s real this time. “Really?”

“Really, little lark.” Geralt is smiling just as wide as Jaskier is, his cheeks just as damp. “I’ve always been yours, I was just too stupid to admit it. I won’t make that mistake again. I love you. I’ll never leave you behind again, not for the rest of your life, if you’ll let me.”

And, oh, there’s a conversation they should maybe have, because after all the revelations of tonight, Jaskier is fairly sure Geralt thinks he’s completely human, and is probably in pain over his supposed mortality. At some point before they go to sleep Jaskier will mention it, because apparently Geralt hasn’t noticed that his face hasn’t changed a lick in 25 years, the stubble he wears these days notwithstanding.

Because Geralt is a ridiculous, incredible, oblivious, stupid, wonderful fool, and Jaskier loves him so much he can hardly breathe. So he tells him so. The rest can wait.

#the witcher #twn #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla fiona elen riannon #the witcher fanfiction #my writing #i'll do the same with sleep now eventually i think but i want to finish it first

[not-quite-there-myself]

Hello! I think that my req wasn’t sent because of Tumblr’s technical reasons so… Please ignore it if you’ve received the previous one.

Firstly, I want to say that I’ve read all of the fan-fictions that were published here since the first day of this blog being even created. I monitor the food fantasy tag every single day because I’m really starving for any content dedicated to this game like a wild hungry animal so when I saw this blog I was so happy! I felt such a pure sense of joy that I almost cried out loud lmao. Thank you for your hard work! Love this blog.

And secondly. If it’s okay, can I request like any work with Whisky x reader? I’d want it to be fluffy, romantic and sweet but that’s literally Whisky so it’s pretty hard to write something normal with him… That’s why I don’t want to put limits on you. Just do as you wish about everything. I just want to read anything about this crazy man.

I hope that I’m not bothering and causing any discomfort. Sorry for being so talkative and annoying! Have a good day.

Sweater Weather

Synopsis: Autumn was just around the corner when you and Whiskey decided to take a walk. It was mostly his idea; after seeing you busying yourself with restaurant preparations, he thought that you deserved a small break from your duties and spend some time with him... But is that really all he's after? Notes: 800+ words; romantic(ish?) fluff; ambiguous ending; gender neutral Master Attendant A/N: No need to worry anon, you are not causing me any discomfort or annoyance. If anything, I’m so happy I’m not the only one looking through the Food Fantasy tag! I had no idea how to do this request but I tried my best to make it as "romantic" as I could without breaking too much character. Thanks for requesting! I hope you enjoy.

The leaves of most trees began to change colour and fall, cluttering the cobblestone streets with signs that winter was next to appear. The days throughout the week were cloudy, but today that was not the case.

"It's a perfect day to take a walk, wouldn't you say?"

Whiskey had invited himself into your quarters that morning, pulling you away from your work. You raised a brow at him, questioning what exactly he wanted from you to prompt him to ask such a thing out of the blue. He feigned a look that suggested he was hurt by your words, even putting a hand over his chest to express something akin to heartache.

"My Attendant, you wound me. Can't someone simply ask you to step away from your work and get some fresh air? I hear today is a wonderful time for that."

You look out a window to see for yourself. He was right about that, and you felt all the more suspicious about him. But then, what harm would it do to step away from your desk for a while? Nothing specific struck you as odd.

Eventually, you just sighed and gave in. "Alright, alright. I guess I wouldn't mind stretching my legs anyway."

To your surprise, Whiskey had already prepared your jacket and shoes, as well as a scarf you found unfamiliar. "Whiskey," you say, taking it and looking at him. "This isn't mine."

He smiles. "Of course it isn't. But you can have it, if you'd like." When you ask him what he meant by that, he ignores your query and gingerly takes the scarf from your hands. He then proceeds to wrap it around your neck.

"Ah- Whiskey, I can do it myself..." You mumble.

"Of course you can," he replies.

You huff as you begrudgingly let Whiskey assist you in getting ready to go out. It was as if you were a toddler. But the way he treated you so far was unusually soft...

You pushed back your train of thought as soon as Whiskey put his hand on the door's knob and escorted you out first. "After you," he motions with a slight bow. You nod and exit the restaurant, Whiskey closing the door when the two of you are outside.

After a while of walking, you found yourself less tense... Well actually, you only really knew that because Whiskey pointed it out to you. He would mention several things about you as the two of you ventured out into the chilly autumn day. Fallen leaves crunching under your feet and the occasional attempts at conversation were the only things you really heard.

Eventually, Whiskey's words got increasingly flattering, and you halted in the middle of the side walk just to ask, "Whiskey, what is up with you today? What you're saying... you don't really mean that, so what are you trying to do?"

He stops as well, turning to you and pushing up his glasses. "My Attendant, do you really think I'm up to no good?" His expression doesn't falter when you nod. "Ah... I see." He continues walking and you can't help but call after him.

"Hey! You didn't answer my question!" You half-run to catch up beside him; he's quite the fast walker, and the only reason why you didn't notice was because he'd been slowing down his pace to match your casual stride. "Whiskey, tell me straight. First you're entering my quarters and asking me to walk with you, then you help me get ready, which, you know I can definitely do on my own, and now you're complimenting me." Now that you said it all out loud you kind of felt embarrassed, your face warming.

"It almost feels like you're trying to ask me out or something." But that's silly, because it's Whiskey and he doesn't like anyone that way, nevermind just liking people in general.

"And what if I am?" He says nonchalantly. Whiskey stops walking again when you fall slightly behind him.

"Huh?" You stare at him. He's probably joking.

Without warning Whiskey leans closer to your face, a small smirk appearing on his face as he repeats himself, "And what if I am?"

Absolutely flabberghasted and speechless you are.

The audacity of this man.

You can't believe him, and yet you can at the same time. Maybe he was being genuine. You weren't really sure. It is Whiskey though, so no one would blame you for not being sure. But in your chest your heart sped up, your face warmed, and, despite the chill in the air, your hands started to sweat. Your mouth opened and closed as if to say something, but you remained tongue-tied as Whiskey chuckled lowly at your reaction.

He steps back from you to let you relax and ponders aloud, "Could it be that you finally believe me now, My Attendant?"

You believe him.

#nqt writing #food fantasy #ff whiskey #ff master attendant #fluff

[randomgentlefolk]

What happened Mono? 👀

Here's a small sketch of Jellie that I meant to lineart and post for pride month, but never get the energy or will to

It's all vent down there and like why I haven't been posting much. Um, I don't know what to put here as a warning so I'll try my best. Read at your own risk because it might contains mental health topics (the bad one ejjsisj).

(READ ⬇️⬇️⬇️)

Maybe some things here may be concerning, but please do not report this post. I really don't want anyone else like my family members to know about my problems. I don't know what would happen.

To start of, I would like to apologize for not posting frequently or soon, especially my cpc review and drawing posts.

I honestly don't remember why I started posting cpc review posts. I think at that time, younger me did it out of fun and all. I understand where they are coming from haha. Unfortunately, as time goes on, I can't keep up with posting in the right time and schedule. And the more I do this, the more it feels like a chore. I appreciate people who likes my review posts, I really do! But I can't help but become more and more tired everyday. It has very little to do with some review posts of course, haha! It's just, I guess something's wrong with me. Don't worry tho, I can try to figure it out. I don't want to burden anyone, so please do not worry about me. Maybe I seem off sometimes, or I joke about concerning things, or I don't post anything in my tumblr or discord (replying in this case), but it's fine, really. No one did anything wrong, there's just something wrong with me (as I said before).

Maybe I'm just lazy lmao, that's probably the case. I'm too lazy to do anything nowadays, even something simple. Idk why, so I think that's something I should figure out. Anyway long story short, I'm starting to lose interest on things I usually adore. I still love cpc though. That's something I'm holding tightly on.

..okay maybe I'm not fine, but I'll be fine. Yeah. I'll figure out what's wrong with me and try to help myself. Don't worry about me. There are lots of other things I wanna say, but I don't want to open up too much. I'm not, uh, used to it.

Conclusion! I'm taking a break from posting cpc reviews right now, just like how lambcat is in hiatus right now ^^ I heard she hurt her arm/hand? I hope she gets better soon :d

Uh, maybe I will take a break? Don't make me promise that. Because there might be a small chance I get small burst of energy and decide to write one after all lmao. I guess this whole post can be the explanation if I don't post anything soon. I'm sorry, I'll try my best.

I don't think I'm saying any of this properly. I'm sorry. I'm really tired.

Mono out, and hopefully I'll be in sometime soon

#vent #i guess?? #uhh idk #i'm not putting the cpc tag here #i'm not gonna dump my vent there XD #personal #? #mono's art

[ghastlyfilters]

“nine people i’d like to know better?”

tagged by @cardigan-ns (YOU’RE SO SWEET FRFR)

i don’t even have anyone to tag atm 💀I’M SLOWLY GETTING SOME ACTIVE TUMBLR MOOTS AND ANYONE IS MORE THAN WELCOME TO DM ME!! :D

**

last song i listened to?

- another amazing song by the mother upon ALL mothers

currently watching?

- icl, all i watch is 90s, 80s, and 70s movies over and over again

- tv show wise, probably breaking bad or surprisingly dance moms (the entertainment in seeing 40 year old fucking women arguing over dance is amazing lmao)

- and ofc the horror genre bc i do love me some good old horror movies

currently reading?

- both jurassic park novels by michael crichton. two of which inspired the first two movies of course.

- 100% recommend you read them after watching the movies, and realising how different they are.

- the novels are fuckin brutal, and much more sci-fi horror!!

current obsession?

- every horror movie you could imagine. but, if we’re talking proper obsessions as of right now, DEFINITELY jurassic park.

- plus a star is born because that movie makes me ugly cry everytime i rewatch

- nothing better than a good old classic like that with laura dern, sam neill, jeff goldblum, richard attenborough, samuel l. jackson, bob peck and wayne knight.

- also i can’t stop listening to korn and bon jovi idefk if that’s relevant but

- AND I’VE BEEN WANTING TO GO BLONDE FOR SO DAMN LONG (rip my long, naturally straight, dark brown hair) SO I’M GETTING THAT DONE ON FRIDAY SO PERHAPS I MIGHT BE OBSESSED WITH MY HAIR?? 😭😭

(I WANNA TAG PEOPLE BUT IM JUST NERVOUS IN CASE THEY THINK “eh who’s this”)

#moots #answering questions #scream #jurassic park #horror #jeff goldblum #sam neill #lady gaga #a star is born #Spotify

[whilomm]

hey sewing tumblr look what I JUST GOT

its an elna supermatic and it was in my grandmas closet, i was talking about trying to find a vintage machine and after a bit she was like "wait dont we have one somewhere...", apparently its been sitting there a while!

it turns on and works, aside from the fact that it doesnt seem to be picking up the bobbin thread but idk if st is broken there or it maybe just needs to be rethreaded. i cant figure out how to get the bobbin case out and i dont wanna break it lmao. also, it only has one cam in it (...16 maybe? having trouble reading it. its some fancy zigzag that goes big to small!), i cant get that out either and again i dont wanna force it. also, theres a slight burning smell and idk if its just dust or it maybe needs some rewiring lol. the cord on it defo looks p damn old so.

still, i got it for free so thats a lil more repair budget i guess!

im also thinking that if i get it looking pretty itd be fun to add some decals but idk what. i would defo wanna stick w st a lil more vintage styled, first thought was st art deco? what all would complement the style here.... the logo+the color looks a lil military to me so can i do a fuckin. military styled machine?? paint one of those fucking shark mouths on it lmao.

#sewing #stitchblr #vintage sewing #vintage sewing machines #elna #this is my first vintage machine so fingers crossed it works out! #idk how to evaluete the full condition but my aunt who knows them a lil better said it seemed to be in good condition! #sewing machine #sewin machines

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Old Heart 2 New Heart : Learning & Growing

You see that beautiful body of water? And the art that is this picture is what inspired me to write this. I hadn’t looked at this picture in ages. I almost forgot I had so many from 2020. The world was said to be ending, after all.

I had on this turtle necklace. Which I loved with my heart. Along with the beautiful baby turtle I had named Nina Athena. lol. The turtle stood for moving slow, and taking your time. I didn’t realize how much it would mean to me til today. Which I thought of way before the idea of writing this came up.

But in this moment, I took a leap of faith. One I wouldn’t forget for a while. And I learned so much along the way.

It inspired me because in 2020 I opened a door when I decided to chose heartbreak than to stay with my ex. I broke up with him right on v-day weekend. I just couldn’t do it anymore. At that moment a lot of things changed around me. My home, we ended up moving somewhere far better.

My health, changed for the better. My relationship with food was different, I wasn’t so nippy with what I’d eat.

My body and appearance, I started glowing! And I felt happier. I wanted to live and I got it.

So what’s different now? And what’s changing?

So moments after the year had ended, I found myself going through flows and waves of changes I had not seen coming.

For the first time in years, I found freedom, change and hope to be something less fearful. And yet still I couldn’t stay afloat with what it was showing me.

When I broke up with my ex, he was the first person I dated. And I really wanted to stay with him. But I realized things were better off broken than consistently trying to fix them. So this is when I cut the snip. And started reflecting on my past.

This was a screenshot I got from an old tumblr account, which I honestly regret deleting. Lmao.

Well I do and I don’t. But it was time for a new life. I decided to delete it to find something new. And here I am..

But just reading what I wrote. I felt like that not too long ago. But now I’ve got the grip of it and started moving forward with better mind.

How did I do it? Again and again? Is it not exhausting ?

Like having to shift your perspective a lot seems daunting. But in this case hope is still keeping me alive . So god bless.

I came a long way. I tell myself. I gotta pick myself up when I’m down. Before that picture was taken. Many months of hell was shaping my perspective into heaven. I was hurting inside while making peace with everything in the world. From COVID, to the pandemic, the fear and anxiety trying to suck me in, heart break, paranoia, the protests.. everything was shaping me into my heaven. I would not stop me from making it to a peaceful state of mind.

Life was beautiful. And still is.

The impact 2020 had on me is still shaping the little girl that was still old enough to do what she wanted.. she just didn’t realize it yet.

And now she’s grown up, and having a more realistic approach to society and living beyond standards that were brought to shape her perception of thinking.

She’s grew out of it. And makes new waves to overstay its welcome.

I may not know much, but I know a lot. I know that peace is a birth right, and not something I gotta fight for. So this year being the theme of prosperous peace and enlightenment I get to flow in my abundance and rejoice in my connections with Mother Nature.

Im pretty sure that my life is changing. Just not in the ways I had hope. Its stupid to believe that everything is suppose to go my way, but I still kept trying. No worries, I'm learning to figure it out. I'm just open to a better life, you know?

As I open my heart, I know its not I'm ungrateful. Just unsure with where all this leads. Why I just can't grasp the concept, or just don't like trying. See.. there's that word. I really hate trying, especially if its not something I want or care about.

But in the world, there will be a lot of things we have to do that we just don't care about. And that's why life throws you the lemon, and you just gotta make your own lemonade.

So when I learned to let go of my expectations, I desired a new set of tears, the pain had gone away and I could see something new on the horizon. My tears became joyful tears. I was ecstatic to see change. My laughter was seen miles away and I was ok at this point.Just here enjoying, connecting, expressing, simply being. Grateful at this point. Even with all the twists and turns, I could see that I was so much more. And I was building a team, amongst the heavens watching over me. My guardian angels are happy with me. Finally after all these years I could see that my stubborn attitude was blocking my blessings and could open up to new love. The heart.

The new heart brings so much change, but so much love. Soooo soo much love. I can't grasp it, it flows. Its just what it wants to be, and then we move on.

You'll remember it like it was yesterday, and then you realize that moment is no longer here... but its everywhere. In your heart, in your mind, in the little moments you have in the real world. Its there, its just waiting for you to find it. When you believe that love exists all around, it won't just be a memory, it'll be all around. It'll be in every person, every animal, every little scene from your favorite tv, the food you eat... etc. It's all for you to take in and love for yourself. Got it?

So as I grow, Im learning to accept everything, including me, in all shapes and forms of love I never knew were possible.

From looking back at me from 2020, wondering where did she go... To remember that she was right here all along is a treasurable feeling. Whatever I was searching for was looking for me within. And when the old heart couldn't breathe the new one came in for the team. Lol. Now I'm gaining access to a new divine light, and I am enjoying the process because of it.

The end.

#just my life #blogging #bloggers of atl #tumblr blogs #creating space #writers #deja's blogs #deja's writings

[ecoamerica]

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[rollercoasterwords]

Regarding recommendations of your fic, are you more comfortable with people not ‘advertising’ it on tiktok and such? I know that the comments people make on there can be pretty intense. My point of asking this is, where is the line for you about how much you want your fic talked about outside of tumblr? I think we’ve all seen it before, fics blowing up online is a double edged sword, so I understand you wanting to keep in ‘contained’. I just love to gush about my current favorite reads, but I also don’t want to cause you any trouble.

okay i feel like this answer is gonna get long lol but. yeah generally speaking tldr is i'm not really comfortable w people posting abt my hp fics on tiktok anymore

and like. i don't wanna come off as like...ungrateful ig. like it does make me happy when people like my fics enough to recommend them + i appreciate the kind words + love etc but!! honestly if someone is wanting to let me know that they appreciate my writing the best way to do so is by commenting or sending me a message here, bc im not gonna see any tiktoks unless i go searching for them. and while i appreciate people reccing my fics i also like. have no desire for any sort of 'advertising' like i appreciate recs to the extent that they're someone telling me 'hey i loved ur writing!' i don't like. have a desire to grow an 'audience' or whatever so! that is not something i am asking anybody to help me do and if someone does decide to try and make my fics more popular i'm not really gonna be grateful bc like...i didn't ask for that lol.

and the two big reasons i'm specifically wary about tiktok are:

1. every time i have seen a fic go viral/gain popularity on tiktok there has been a simultaneous influx of hate, entitlement, and just general fuckery that has made the fic writer's life worse. so in this case, specifically with atwmd, i am 100% sure that if it did gain popularity via tiktok that i would get an influx of hate, especially bc it's like. a complex story with very fucked up characters lol. i mean just look at the people who take up arms bc atyd wolfstar is 'toxic' or whatever...i do not want 2 see what would happen if that crowd read my wolfstar in atwmd lmao

2. i have very mixed feelings abt writing hp fic in the first place and am trying to limit my personal contribution to hp's popularity. like. with ao3 people aren't going to be stumbling across hp fic unless they're already seeking it out; tumblr is, for the most part, a similar type of self-curated space where my hp fic pretty much remains limited to what are already hp-fic reading circles.

but bc of tiktok's algorithm, my fic could end up on the fyp's of people who aren't really interested in hp and pique their interest, drawing in new people to start engaging w hp fandom who otherwise wouldn't. and i don't really like the idea of that happening! i don't want the fic i'm writing to contribute to like. growing hp's popularity. i'd rather keep it in circles of people who are already choosing to engage w this content, rather than have it float into the lives of people who might otherwise not see it.

i also feel like. on ao3 anyone finding the fic is gonna be someone searching for like. those specific tags--someone who wants to read a story like the one i'm writing. on tumblr, the only people really hearing abt it r people who follow me + so have like....seen me talking abt the fic + are basically knowing what to expect. on tiktok, any posts tagged like #marauders or whatever could end up crossing paths w a bunch of people who specifically would not read this type of fic, and i do not want those people to read it and then get upset with me when the story isn't what they wanted (something else that i have seen happen to other writers). so that's kinda what i mean by the 'breaking containment' thing

anyway. i don't have any issue w people reccing my fics to like their friends or closed discord servers or whatever--spaces where like. u know the people ur reccing it to are people who would like the fic + not treat it like a product for consumption etc. and as stated previously i appreciate those sorts of recommendations bc it does mean a lot 2 me when someone likes my writing enough to want 2 share it!! there are just specific pitfalls w tiktok that i have grown uncomfortable w to the point that now anytime someone mentions seeing my fic over there and i go search up the vid, even if it's super sweet and has like lovely comments that make me smile and literally nothing negative i still get a kick of anxiety at the thought of who might see this video or what might happen if it goes viral.

i've accepted at this point that i can't control how people are going to respond to my writing once i've posted it on the internet; all i can do is say 'please don't do x with my fics' and hope people listen. but i'm not gonna like get mad at people for posting on tiktok or whatever bc obviously not everyone is gonna see this post or read my faq, and i don't want to send any hate towards people who are posting tiktoks abt my fics--like i don't need anyone defending me or whatever. usually those vids are just out of sight out of mind 4 me. but!! since u have taken the time 2 kindly ask (ty btw) this is like. the very long answer abt where i currently stand on tiktok lol

#ask #wfrau #faq #<- putting it in this tag so i can find again easily

[demadogs]

I know, i know 😭 (30% anon here). It's not that i think the idea is absurd at all, like you listed so many good things!! I'm just trying to actively lower my own expectations because i'm the type who gets really invested and then consequently really disappointed (though i guess since this is tumblr most of us are that type lmao). I'm just used to shows not following through with subtext, and i'm not only talking about gay subtext, but all different kinds of plots. I hear you though, trust me!

Since i'm already in your inbox, i have a question: have you been around for a while? What's the history of the byler ship? Was it always popular? Did people always think there might be a serious chance or was it more of a crackship? Were there any popular theories that came true or that were completely false? Since i'm super new to the show myself i'm curious!

yeah i totally get it. my brain is just not wired to be able to have lower expectations for something that his this much evidence for. im either 100% confident in something in a show or i have absolutely no idea whats gonna happen lmao.

i only started being active in this fandom a few months ago but ive shipped byler and followed lots of byler blogs for years. people started shipping byler after s2 came out. i didnt see anything about it during s1 because they literally had two scenes together and there was almost nothing really to work with. but when i watched s2 when it first came out i distinctly remember thinking “….is anybody else seeing this?? am i crazy orrr?” and then i went on here and found a small fandom of people who shipped them too so i was like “ok cool nice”. at this point it was mostly gifsets of their scenes together and maybe some edits and we hadnt established whether we were gonna spell it byeler or byler yet lmao. then i found @kaypeace21 and she was the first person i saw ever actually analyze it and really start to believe that everything might be intentional.

before i followed her, i never even considered that they might actually go through with byler. i think that was the case for most people during s2. i shipped it in the same way i currently ship ronance and steveddie. i thought they were cute and had good chemistry but i never believed it would go anywhere because of mlvn and also just the doubt that an insanely popular 80s scifi show would put their main characters in a gay relationship. i still loved reading kaypeace’s analyses but i wasnt convinced yet. then s3 came out and that changed everything for me and a lot of other people.

i watched s3 the day it came out hoping for some crumbs of byler but again, not at all expecting anything evident of them actually going through with it. it was kinda just in the back of my mind bc i love this show mostly for the supernatural plot. but during their fight scene when mike said “its not my fault you dont like girls” i was shocked. that convinced me that at least will would have a crush on mike but i still wasnt sure about mike until that painfully awkward kiss on the last episode. it wasnt until a few months later i rewatched that season and went back to kaypeace and found SO many things that i missed!! mike not letting el touch him when they kissed, the drastic tone and aesthetic difference between the break up and the byler fight, the frame of mike perfectly in a closet when they kissed!! i was completely sold then and so were a lot of people. i also think it was around this time that finn liked some byler art that had the quote “im not gonna fall in love” on it so that made a lot of people like 👀.

then everything the cast and duffers have said leading up to volume one only increased my confidence. i went into volume one completely expecting more obvious queer coding and i was right to. i was already overly confident but the biggest thing from volume one that made me more confident wasnt even a byler scene, it was mike and el’s fight. im glad they had her explicitly call him out for not saying he loves her. they kinda had to spell it out for the general audience. that was a really good scene and the fact that they played eulogy over it!!!?? insane. i lost my mind when i watched that episode a second time and realized that. that is 10000% intentional and the only explanation could be that that fight was the death of their relationship.

anywho yeah ive shipped them almost since the beginning and its been so fun slowly realizing that theyre actually going to do this and watching it build up and seeing the general audience start to catch on. it added a whole other layer to a show that already would have been my favorite either way just because of the plot alone.

#that was a long ass answer #i like talking about my byler journey #stranger things #byler #eden answers

[purpleyoonn]

Hi ! I'm a new anon who find the courage to send you a (pretty long maybe ?) message..... idk why I'm so talkative when irl I'm a quiet person LMAO.

First, I hope you're doing fine and your day went well !

Second, just wanted to say that I'm in love with your writings ! You're one of my favorite writer on Tumblr and AO3 !! I'm totally addicted to soulmates + poly!bangtan x reader more than I was before thanks to you  😭 /pos

My favs ones are The Line between Love and War, Dance of Time, Baby you complete us, Doughnuts and Shell Casings and of course the My universe One shots (Yoonie as a dragon... so soft omg he has all my heart and soul omg I'm OBSESSED... Jinnie as a vampire ? YES PLEASE. And Joonie as Hades ? On my knees. )

I don't finish reading all of your stories tbh, but it's in my plans, hehe. I started Ethereal today ! I already love it, I can't wait to binge read it !!

AND if I send you this, it's because I have some questions... because I'm a writer too, and I want to try and write a poly bangtan x reader soulmate AU too 🥺 

Do you plan your writings ? Like taking notes in a notebook about your ideas, characters, story, any world building when you write something fantastic ? Do you plan your chapters and everything in advance, or do you just write what pass in your pretty head ? Do you have any tips for a baby writer like me ?  🥺 

Again thank you so much for sharing with us all these stories, really, I read your stories in the bus, at uni waiting for my classes or during my breaks because I don't have any friends, and I'm a very anxious person who suffer from adhd and bpd, plus I'm autistic so reading your writings helped me to cut myself to the noisy world a little, and it helps me so much so thank you...! (you'll probably find all of this weird, I'm sorry  😖)

Ah! Sorry I talk too much... it's always like that when it's about my specific interests like bangtan, writing, and fantasy world....

Also, sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, English is not my first language (I'm Belgian, so I speak french hehe), I hope you'll understand what I'm saying   😣 

Have a nice day/afternoon/night, wish you all the good things in your life, you deserve it !! ♥ -  🐋 

omg hello new anony! Im gonna call you whalien❤️

My day has gone really well so far! My little sister had a field trip and used her spending/gift shop money to buy me an octopus plushie (she knows I love octopuses and that they are my favorite animal) so im super duper today!

thank you so much! im glad you love my works! (I have no clue what /pos means though)

omg so you favorite almost all of my works so far then! watch out for ethereal though, there is a loooott in there and pls pls take the warnings seriously for each chapter!

but yeah, I love dragon yoonie and pretty much any and all dragon bts aus. like there is something about possessive bangtan that treats mc like their greatest treasure!

So as for writing, I do actually plan everything in my notebook! I write out like hopes for the story as well as like, a summary and plot line weird box structure thingie. I also write out anything for my characters like backgrounds and likes/dislikes. I try to plan everything in advance but I don't plan the small details. I plan ahead for the big like, plot changing things but other than that, I write what comes to my head! Its fun when you don't necessarily know where things go but have an idea of the plot! as least to me😊

My biggest tip for any writers out there is actually pretty simple.

write.

like everything.

any little or big idea that comes to your head. write it down. you are never going to get any practice or improve your skills if you don't write. for me, the little fox was the first like actual fic ive ever written (besides a twilight fic on quotev that I will happily take to my grave) and I want to go back and rewrite it so bad but I won't because I like knowing how ive improved my writing over the years.

im the same way with fics ive falling in love with. ive like perfected my straight face in public, ive got the best poker face. ill even read directly in front of my grandpa and he'd never know I was reading the dirtiest smut ever. Im happy though that I can help you escape your world and all the noise for even the slightest second. as a fellow autistic individual, I know how overwhelming and overstimulating the world can be so im glad you can find comfort in my works!

Please never think that sharing your thoughts on something you love is weird or strange. I could go on for hours about the history of fan fiction or octopuses for hours. ask me about my favorite book and you might as well plop down on the couch with a nice pillow and a snack because we will be there for hours while I bring out my white board with theories and characters connections.

also pls don't ever worry about any English grammar/comprehension mistakes when talking to me! I am goof about asking questions and my comprehension levels are usually through the roof so pls don't ever worry! I wish I could speak French! I only remember some words! my family is from one of the states that was a French colony so its pretty common to still hear some French being spoken. but unfortunately my family didn't like it, (mainly my grandma sooooo) .

I hope you have an amazing morning/day/night!!!!

#purpleyoonn #purpleyoonn ask #🐋 anon

[luescris]

Just wanted to say some things!:

First of all; I wanted to ask, if you have seen/seen anything about the new Season 4 Special that just came out! I think it came out the same day as the new TMNT MM trailer too. Man, what a day. I slept most of that day, and woke up to the LMK and TMNT fandoms freaking out (and me freaking out w/ them too!) What a thing to wake up to. If you have seen and/or seen anything about the new LMK S4 special, then what did you think about it?

I loved what I have seen of it so far, and what I have seen being posted about it; so far! There has been a couple more mixed posts I have come across, but most people seem to be having loving it (and breaking apart over it; due to what happened in it), so that is cool!

I remember seeing a LMK poll about what Season, plus their Special was their favorite, and while I love all the seasons and Specials, I ended up going w/ S3 and it's Special (just that whole season, man. That, and LBD and Not-Mayor were such good build-up villains/villains man. And so many other reasons too), but Season 4 was a close 2nd for me (S3 and S4 were the closest in that poll), now that the S4 Special is out now, man, I don't know anymore. I think S3 and it's Special is still my top favorite, but idk, S4 and it's Special could top it for me, or being tying with it. It is either one of those two things, or a close 2nd for me.

What about you ? What is your LMK favorite season and special; if you have any? I know it can be hard to pick, because all the seasons and specials are good imo.

Also, ty for being a SWK apologist. He has defin. made his mistakes, but he is trying to make up for them; he does so much to make up for them and to protect the people he cares about. Can he be too secretive (and him being secretive is some part in due to more deeper parts of his past being hard to talk about and because he took a lot of responsbilty on himself. Thinking it is his responsibility to fix things and protect everyone imo), and has he made mistakes both in the past and present (though everyone has made mistakes)? Sure. But like I said, he tries to make up for them, and he really does try to more permantently deal with problems (which, people can debate if that is too final/much or not if they want), but he either gets stopped from doing so, or they somehow sometimes come back.

He and Mac and some of his friends have had mistakes with each other. But honestly; they all have. And SWK is making amends/starting to make amends for his own. And now; S4 Spoilers:

It looks like him and Mac are going to start to heal and make amends w/ each other, so that is very nice/cool! ^^

End of Spoilers. (I don't want to get too much more into S4 Special Spoilers, in case you haven't seen it/seen much about it yet).

Anyways, thanks for being a SWK apologist. I love him and his character too! He is one of my favs. in LMK. MK is another one of my favs., such a great and interesting character and mc/protagonist. I have more, but I don't want to ramble all day about LMK here, so I will just stop with these two.

I love ur Pfp and Tumblr Banner picture.

I got more to say, but I will save that for another Ask, since this getting long, and this is a more LMK-focused Ask, and the next one(s) will probably be more TMNT-based.

Ask 1/?.

Alright, here we go. *Rubs hands together*/lh

Firstly, I just wanted to say that I am so sorry this response is so late, but now that I've seen both LMK and the Spiderverse movie (I think that's mentioned BSBSBS), I think now would be an appropriate time to respond to your ask! :D I'm gonna put a read more thing after this paragraph just in case people don't wanna read all that I gotta say lmao 😂

Next I want to say thank you for sending me an ask!! :D I don't know if you have seen what I posted, but I am unfortunately not as into LMK as much as I once was, and the turtles are to blame for that 😔😅 Though I will still watch it!! How could I not, it's still the best thing I've ever seen in my life!! This season's special was. Whoo boy. I don't even know where to begin

Azure really did just want to help people. He really did want to make the world a better place, and the way he sacrificed himself while having tears in his eyes I just-- 😭😭😭😭

I don't know if I have any favorite seasons or episodes in particular, honestly! :0 Like I said it's all so good, though before I think I would've said any and all episodes that have Wukong angst in them LMAO 😂

Speaking of him though, I agree with you!!! I think he's got a long way to go with learning how to do. Well, a lot, but it certainly doesn't make him bad, nor did it ever

Do you think he was so against Azure because he knew what it was like to try to search for power, and already knew the concequences?? O: Or something like that I don't know if I'm explaining my thoughts right right now haha 😅

And YESSSSS I'm so excited to see how they're relationship grows in the future!! :D I myself think that they consider themselves brothers instead of lovers, so I'm really looking forward to what happens with them! ^3^

Please ask all the questions you'd like!! I can't promise you I'll get to them quick, but I will get to them eventually, lmao 😂😅

Thanks, see you again!!! :D

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lego #lego lmk #monkie kid #asked and answered

[fushic0re]

i know we’ve gotten used to demanding reblogs and comments from readers but if you think about it, the way we write and interact with others is also a huge factor on why some are not getting what they want. there are authors here who garner high and consistent engagement. why? because they are good at what they do and they don’t guilt trip anyone for it. they get 100+ anons daily without having to beg the tl for it because they write fics that make you want to scream and ramble, and also because they are welcoming, responds to feedback/doesn’t ignore replies people leave (i know many of us are guilty of this) and because they know how to get people to talk to them (definitely not through making REBLOG AND COMMENT OR I WILL DEACTIVATE 👹 posts). i understand the frustration of 10 reblogs and a hundred likes because i’ve been there too, i am there, but it’s not really a good look to threaten and demand people to leave comments and reblog our fics. they don’t owe us anything, and we don’t owe them anything either. of course there are anons who demand updates and we like to call them out by being like “then reblog my fic first! 🙄” but chances are, 98% of them do. idk, i keep seeing these demanding posts everyday and i get it (i can’t even crack 1k+ likes lol, need to improve and be more creative with plots) but it’s not the right approach… sorry if this comes across as rude and offensive, i’m not trying to be, just giving perspective.

to say "hey you're not getting engagement bc you're not good or don't interact with your consumers the right way" is also such a shitty thing to say when that's not always the case. i've read novel worthy fics on here from the most approachable, kindest people and they barely break 50 notes on their works which is absolutely insane to me. i see people hosting sleepovers/celebration events, asking how everyone's day is going, basically going out of their way to engage with viewers because that's just who they are as people. they're kind. and yet, they're also left in the dust. as a writer, you should know that this happens. people on here are TRYING their absolute hardest just for their works to be SEEN because they love them and are proud of them. that statement is extremely insensitive.

tumblr isn't the same anymore, which means we have to navigate it differently. this means speaking up about how tumblr algorithm doesn't do anything for us and instead, we need to support each other by reblogging. if this is an issue that people are passionate about, they deserve to speak up about it as much as they want rather than be silenced for the sake of "uwu my followers won't like me bc i'm speaking up about an issue uwu".

on this blog, i promote speaking up and standing by what you believe it. i don't give a shit if it makes anyone not want to reblog my fics bc i'm "begging" and it "bothers" you lmao. i'm not gonna bend over backwards and make myself smaller for a measly reblog.

also, no one is "threatening" to leave without reblogs. at least to the people i follow or those i have spoken to about this issue. we're simply pointing out logical arguments; if you kept working at something and weren't being met with any results, would you keep doing it? no, because that's counterproductive. if creators aren't feeling encouraged, they're gonna stop creating. that's not a threat. that's not "guilt tripping". that's fact and you just not being able to handle it.

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ honey answers #secret admirer ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡