#I FOUND AN EXTENSION THAT MAKES REBLOGGED POSTS LIKE THEY WERE BEFORE NOT LIKE LIKE BEFORE BFORE BUT LIKE A YEAR AGO BEFORE

[tranquil-ivy]

okay but like what if Leon is the famous one in the relationship. The whole RE universe is a movie or show and he’s popular. You’re out here devouring his fanfics. Then he found out….or u writing one —then what 🧍‍♀️

I weirdly see Leon as a mom vlogger. He’s one of those😭

(If you ever call Leon a mommy vlogger again it's curtain calls for anon. I will not rest until I find you)

(this is a joke pls don't come for me...)

I'm thinkiiiiing...

Actor! Leon x Assistant! Reader (Post Damnation era)

BUT YOU READING HIS FANFICTION!!!

He knew his fans read and wrote this stuff. Draw him, write about him. Character and him alike. The screenwriters literally wrote everyone's characters based off of who they actually were. So in a way his RE character is an extension of himself but everyone can still differentiate between the two. So he doesn't mind anyone doing this.

He's gotten fanmail with art, copies of fanfiction and even just fan accounts constantly interacting with his social media posts. But one particular account seems to interact with him a lot, R4Kennedy.

No idea who it is but whatever.

Eventually he starts getting a lot of offers from different companies for commercials, brand deals, appearances, ect. He starts getting a bit overwhelmed with things so he hands off some responsibilities to his lovely assistant, you. You get to do most of his social media stuff. But he still likes scrolling around, liking things, retweeting/reblogging stuff and making his own posts life update posts on occasion. But he'd notice the lack of interaction from that one account on posts he specifically didn't make. But the second he'd personally post something he gets responses from R4Kennedy.

Super weird...

He'd accidentally found out by having to use your laptop to check a few things because his computer was having issues. You two know each other well, you've worked for him for years now, practically live together. So you don't even think to close out your open tabs... Tabs to your social accounts...

Leon is too nosy curious for his own good so he ends up opening the tabs.

You're R4Kennedy... He starts looking through the fics you've liked, everything you've said about him, even the things you've written.

You're a good writer, he'll give you that. A lot more brave online versus your usual mousey demeanor on the clock. Maybe you were interested in him and we're just shy? The thought crosses his mind constantly.

But he keeps this information for himself for a while.

Eventually he uses it. A day you're looking particularly good. He's been attracted to you for a while but was scared of scaring you off with his abrasive nature.

But you're making a coffee for yourself in his kitchen and he ends up saying your account name. You tense up immediately and just look back at the massive grin on his face. He says nothing else before he walks out.

He knows. And now you know he knows. And he's definitely going to hold this over your head for a while...

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🌿 ivy replies #🌿 ivy writes #resident evil x reader

[emilykaldwen]

"Blocking isn't some personal insult. Its a method of saying; hey, we clearly shouldn't interact, so I'm gonna build this soundproof wall between us to make sure we can't."

Except that's not what the people you associate with do and encourage you and others to do by extension. I really liked your writing, but it's disappointing to see the type of people you've chosen to buddy up to, who use blocking as a way to weaponize social media and make pariahs out of certain people in the fandom who don't bow to their whims. I hope they don't burn you the way they've burned so many others, but with their track record, I'm not holding my breath.

Okay let's do this. I'm tired. I would like to go back to sleep. Get off my lawn, etc etc.

I have been dealing with anons harassing me since I started posting HotD stuff back during the Season 1 show run. I got hateful anons saying terrible things about Abby back in December. When I interacted with NONE of the people that I currently interact with today. This escalated when I properly began posting Maiden in the summer of last year, and then escalated in the fall. After receiving some truly foul anons in regards to my writing, my OC, and my work, including one telling me to kill myself, I shut anons off. Because what the actual fuck. I have been on the internet for 25 fucking years and this is the first time I have EVER dealt with such bullshit.

Before these anons ramped up, I, like many people, blocked. A lot. I blocked mostly people thirst reblogging stuff about the actors that would cross my dash or in the tags because it made me uncomfortable, I didn't want to see it. I blocked a lot of blogs that were posting these weird reader x canon character thirst lists that I just found bizarre and didn't want to see scrolling through a character tag. That, friends, is what the block button is for. I block people with takes that I disagree with as well, I'm someone whose pretty liberal with my block button. I block things I don't want to see on my dash. It's honestly as simple as that.

No one has fucking told me to block anyone. I am actually deeply fucking insulted that I, a grown ass adult who is nearly forty, needs to be told to block someone/someones when people are setting up blogs called 'ihateemilykaldwens' and trying to terrorize me, and my friends and mutuals, and then try to frame another one of my mutuals for being responsible for it in the process. I only just recently started speaking with "the individuals" I've chosen to associate with long after I have blocked the people you're saying are being bullied.

And if this is about my post the other day about the culture I see: It was never actually about anyone specific, it was genuinely trends I have seen cross my dash as well as discussions with friends in other fandoms. That's all. If someone(s) thought I was talking about them specifically: Dude, IDK what to tell you. That's a you problem.

So let's stop playing coy. I'm tired of it.

THIS. IS. A SMALL. BLOG. I do not pass a block list around and TELL people or encourage them to block them, nor have I ever have it done to me. And even IF someone said 'omg you should block all these people' uh, no? I have free will and can make my own judgements?

Anon, if this situation is upsetting to you, either come off anon in the DMs and talk to me, or you are welcome to unfollow me. I don't care, and I mean that in the nicest possible way.

Because the people I've blocked on my own make others feel the way you're claiming they make you feel.

Because we all know who everyone is talking about. And I'm done. This is 12 year old behavior and I don't interact with minors.

I'm going back to bed. Whatever is in the fucking water, I want none of it.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Here is the original mcmansion renovation post if you would like to see the urls and do your own searching. I dont know who the second censored url is, I saw a different reblog chain.

https://www.tumblr.com/kweza/719229017030541312

I suppose the censoring is to prevent dog piling or accusations of whatever it is drama blogs like to do, but it feels like a silly thing to then in the same post point out how obvious the trad wives are.

I personally find it more shocking that people apparently thought a landlord did that. In my experience, when I landlord buy an old victorian they dont intend to also live in, they MIGHT renovate enough to local legal regulation standards. But usually they just assume the previous owner had done enough modernizing and then proceed to slap some landlord paint on everything including radiators, door hinges, and light switches.

Thank you! One of my friends also found it for me.

And yeah, like I said, without the URl the takeaway becomes "look at this obvious tradwife [based on the views expressed in the post and nothing else]!" Which can lead to some Unfortunate Assumptions about anyone who agrees with that ONE SPECIFIC POST she made

(seriously my ex-girlfriend/current friend reblogged the original post, and she's a leftist queer law student presently in a polyamorous relationship)

as for landlords...it depends in my experience. they tended to do more back when the houses were truly untouched, usually in the 1930s-1980s. most of those apartments I mentioned having lived in, while not Victorian- but then, neither was the house in the original post -had been extensively renovated before my landlords ever entered the picture. it also depends on who they're trying to rent to. a landlord might overhaul a house more extensively if they're planning to rent to wealthy tenants, in some places

of course, flippers are a BIG part of the problem. there's a demographic with the "don't give a shit" attitude of landlords and the "want to give this the most generic/currently trendy appeal possible" and money of rich asshole private owners with popular Instagram accounts. make it look Hip and do it cheaply- the worst of both worlds

at least a private homeowner could be persuaded to just buy a new house. a flipper wants to get the cheapest house possible (often an old house) and pour their budget into hyper-modernizing it

now, I WILL blame landlords (or property management companies) for the soulless look of new buildings. they want the broadest possible appeal, with as many corners cut as possible. ergo, open-concept glass tower apartments with everything white and crap quality inside. fun.

#ask #anon

[maya-chirps]

[ID: a screenshot of a reblog by @/fleurtygurl. It reads: "Omg instant follow! I need more Philippines facts in my life!!! 😭😭😭

If you have any facts about filipino myths? That would be amazing. But also I will literally eat up everything you post!

I'm in desperate need of reconnecting with my roots, but I've been so busy that I haven't had any time to do any extensive research...."

/End ID]

@fleurtygurl Decided to make a whole post based on this because I loooove talking about Filipino mythology and researching more about different mythologies within the country and I also hadn't gone around to looking through the things I want to learn about.

Filipino mythology is a pretty huge umbrella term considering that there are hundreds of cultures in the archipelago that have different beliefs, practices, and traditions and especially before the Spanish colonial period. I won't get too deep into it, but basically if you want to learn about some grander pantheon or some general overarching compendium of beliefs that all precolonial Filipinos believe in, you won't be getting that sine historically, Filipinos were not a unified people, but a bunch of different countries and communities that were placed under one governing body for easy management for the Spanish crown.

With so many Filipino cultures and, by extension, mythologies, the best way with trying to reconnect with your heritage, it might be best to figure out which ethnic group you may have connections too and start researching from there. In my case, for example, I would look up both Tagalog mythology, Bikolano mythology, and Ilokano mythology in order to get a good grasp of the mythology of my roots since I'm mixed Tagalog, Bikolano, and Ilokano, and those three have widely different beliefs and especially with folk religion.

I guess the main issue with this is a lot of sources related to Filipino myths are often difficult to find, are unreliable, or plainly just non-existent. Lots of books are often out of circulation and print, or if they are still in print, they are often only sold by specific retailers and often cost a lot of money. Research papers are locked behind a paywall or are only available through specific e-libraries you can only access if you have an affiliation with a university. Online articles may be unreliable and source places that are hard to fact check. Blogs, honestly including mine to be frank, may parrot wrong information from other websites and articles, with their best feature being the possibility that they may have come from oral sources but those are also very few.

Honestly, I was about to go on a long tangent about discussing at least the Tagalog pantheon and mythology because it had a lot of sources I've seen online, but after hours of research, I've found out that there was also a lot of unreliable sources in terms of information about that so I've decided against rambling on further about it for now.

(I am still going to write about my findings on the Tagalog pantheon later but after what I've found out, I might take some time to look through a lot more primary sources which means colonial era texts and harder to find archived works.)

I will say that a good way to connect with more general Filipino folklore outside of mythology itself is probably consuming media that explores folklore and traditional beliefs. I recommend Trese, a Filipino comic turned series on Netflix if you want to see Filipino cryptids being used in a modern-day story made by Filipinos. There are also other comics that focus on Filipino mythology like The Mythology Class and its sequel The Children of Bathala by Arnold Arre.

There's also series and movies that take inspiration from Filipino folklore and mythology with Dayo: Sa Mundo ng Elementalya (English name Niko: The Journey to Magika) as my go-to suggestion. I had also heard good reviews for Amaya, a series created by GMA 7, but honestly I don't think the series clicked with me.

#mayaposts #mayapino #fleurtygurl #filipino #philippines #filipino mythology #might make posts about specific filipino myths some other time because it's such a big umbrella of stories and legends #outside of the precolonial religion #sorry to make this post so long i'm a give me an inch i'll go a mile kinda person #long post

[themessengervevo]

Hello everyone! Before I begin, I have to say I very much thank everyone who shared my story around. It may not be much, but it could lead to something more. Thank you for doing that.

Since my goal with my original post was to not only address my sudden unfair banning from the platform but to also give attention to other problems with this platform, I decided to give this operation a catchy name of sorts. You can call it

Operation Take That!

or anything else really. Hopefully that will give this movement more of an identity.

In other news though, I may have discovered some very peculiar bugs that affect the Youtube experience for me, and I'll show these in this post to give bugfix suggestions. For the sake of clarity, and also because I like old stuff, I will be showing these screenshots with CustomTube enabled. It's an extension for Chrome and Firefox that changes the look of the Youtube layout to older ones, specifically mid 2014 in this case.

First on my examination will be the home page. For this and other instances, I will be comparing how a banned user sees a page with the same tab but in a container so as to show how a normal user sees the same page. So how does the home page should usually look like? It should look as shown here:

Notice the sidebar on the left. Now lets compare it with the non-container homepage, and see what we get:

You can immediately see how the sidebar is gone. Why? If you can't login into a youtube account, why remove the sidebar? It still wouldnt let you sign in anyway because you are terminated. It is simply unnessesary!

Now lets move onto the watch page, and see how that is different, here is a screengrab of a random video I took from the home page in the container:

Again, notice the sidebar, but also the Like and Dislike buttons and the row of buttons from "About" to "More". Lets also compare the comments section, here is how it looks in container:

Great, right? Now lets see how those two look without container:

Notice how wrong everything looks? The lack of sidebar again, the misshapen Like button, the Save button here is the default one, the Share button has been replaced with a number, and the More button has three dots underneath it. Odd right? Lets see the comment section now:

Oh wait, there is no comment section here, because it's stuck in a loading loop! Again, why does this need to happen when you get banned? This is just unnessesary again!

Here's some other issues that I know of or found that I feel like need to be fixed:

The Like and Dislike buttons in comment sections lead to the sign in, unlike the ones under the video itself.

There's been performance issues for users of Firefox, including an intentional 5-second slowdown and big lag. The lag one in particular seems to be happening to everyone, not just me with an almost decade-old laptop at this point. Some speculate these changes were made by Google as part of a tactic to get non-Chrome users to, well, use Chrome, and see it as just plain being greedy. I think so too.

Occasionally, when I enter the home page from a watch page, the tab assumes I am logged in and shows my pfp and notification bell and all. I can click the pfp to open what would be the menu there, but is stuck in an endless loop. As well, the page im on shows a "Something went wrong" error. Very weird. That needs to be fixed too I think.

Again, please reblog and share this post around to not only hear my story but to hear my criticisms and suggestions too. I might make more of these posts to show how bad Youtube's getting as a platform. Also I am still considering whether to get a Boosty or not. Maybe even a Ko-fi if they allow that. Again, thank you for your support so far, I couldn't be more happy to hear your thoughts on this, and if any of you had or have the same experience I'm having, please reach out!

- Thank you, The Messenger.

#operation Take That! #text post #the caretaker #everywhere at the end of time #russia #peace #peace and love #youtube #fuck youtube #please reblog #pls reblog #please share #it would be very much appreciated #drama #firefox #bugs #fix your shit #2023

[lansplaining]

Hi, I followed you because you have a lot to say about jin guangyao and I enjoy reading it. When I first watched cql I thought he was an enetertaining and satisfying villain both to watch and also to watch being taken down in the end. Such drama! Much style! Then I read a lot of meta about him and watched the show again and realised how much he was being set up as a villain without there being much truth there. The more I read/thought about this, the more interesting and sympathetic I found him.

I am still reading more and more points which point out ways in which the ending and jin guangyao's portrayal is misleading - like the post today pointing out that nmj didn't know that jgy had a part in his death, for example. nmj apparently just hated jgy by the end of his life and that was why his fierce corpse kept attacking jgy. I am a little skeptical about that last part - it may be true but I can't help but feel that the hatred was pretty equally shared around which makes blaming any one party pretty pointless.

I really enjoy jgy as a character. I also enjoy nmj and jzx (who you were vague blogging about today) and tbh I love pretty much the whole cast minus a few obvious dickbags like jgs. Before I take what these posts have to say at face value, I guess I wanted to know, how much do you dislike nmj and jzx? Neither the nmj post nor your jzx post come across as though they are characters you (or op) like. I personally love them and as much as I want to learn about jgy and see different sides, I don't really want to read a lot of negative content about characters I love - especially if it's not written in a way that is particularly balanced.

I hope this does not come across as impolite or disrespectful. I think I am feeling a bit defensive but I don't want to be rude or for you to feel upset or angry. The obvious thing to do is for me to say I should agree to disagree and just unfollow if it's too much but that always feels so drastic to me - maybe I am misreading/reading in bad faith!

<3 <3 <3

first of all, i definitely think JGY also hates NMJ by the end. absolutely mutual hatred there, stemming from a range of reasons, justified and otherwise.

i definitely reblog some stuff from people who actively dislike NMJ, so I wouldn't blame you at all for unfollowing me if you don't want to see that! i actually really like him-- i watched CQL first and totally bought it when the Wens lied and said he was dead and was really sad! i think his structural role is so interesting, and in many ways the story only works if he is both a guy you don't know much about, but think is pretty cool from what you do know. then you find out things that paint him in a far less flattering light, but there's a kind of tragedy in that.

i actually quite like jin zixuan as well. again, CQL first, i loved his moment with the swords at evil wen summer camp, this unexpected proof of how his pride could be a good thing, and in fact had some courage to go along with it. i was so so shocked and sad when he died!

what makes me occasionally get salty about NMJ and JZX both (and again, that totally happens, and i don't blame you at all for not wanting to see that) is honestly over-exposure to fanon takes on them, which i feel are overly simplistic and smooth over the things that make them interesting in favor of making them just really nice, stand-up guys. for NMJ in particular, i think you'll often see JGY fans going extra hard on all the things that are bad about NMJ because they/we feel like we're always implicitly pushing back against fandom's love of him with reminders that he did bad things, too.

the JZX thing is just a total personal pet peeve honestly-- i think he's fun and interesting because he's probably not the nicest or most generous person, but he is ride or die for this one lady and, by extension, sometimes her family. but if he was out here wanting to become besties with jin guangyao, he had a whole year+ to do that and... did not do that. that's okay!! he's a more interesting character for being an imperfect guy!!

my favorite characters are lan wangji, jin guangyao, and jiang cheng-- i like my little guys to be an absolute mess and a bit mean and to not make good choices. throw in the desire to-- not exactly defend JGY, but to resist the parts of fandom that paint him as a 2D villain, and the accompanying attempts to discuss/remind people of the ways those characters hurt JGY/are maybe not such good people because of how they treated him, things can absolutely take on a tone where it seems like characters like NMJ and JZX are being disparaged. but for me, i like them more for being imperfect.

(i am kinda Actually Mad at huaisang though)

#ask answered

[kakashiweek]

Prompt Discussion - Library

Your only limit to interpreting our prompts for your own creations is your imagination! However, you’ve told us you enjoy these discussion posts as jumping-off points, and we are happy to oblige!

Please feel free to use any ideas sparked by these posts, reblog/reply/comment and build off them to help inspire yourself or others - or, of course, entirely ignore them if you’d prefer!

Library (September 10th - Day 1, Prompt A)

Ah, libraries - bastions of imagination, gateways to other worlds, and purveyors of madness! (Your mod used to work in several; I Know.) Will you choose to focus on a library in canon Konoha (or another village)? A modern AU? A library, digital or archaically physical, in the far-distant future and the far-flung stars?

🍃 How difficult is it to return books on time - or pick up holds before they’re sent back! - as a shinobi? What’s it like being the librarian who has to discuss late returns with elite ninja or having sent back a book a ninja was particularly looking forward to while they were on a mission? 🍃 What about Kakashi’s personal library? Are his friends/partner/students/etc. surprised to find things other than Icha Icha there? (Or do they!) Does someone try to expand his literary horizons? 🍃 Is there a private library for ninja reference? Or ANBU-specific? Does Kakashi have opinions on the selection? Do his students beg to get a peek inside? (Or try to sneak in!) 🍃 Perhaps Kakashi already adores the library, perhaps he introduces a friend/significant other/student(s) to it? 🍃 Or perhaps Kakashi has only ever bought his own books, and someone introduces him to the possibilities of those shelves? 🍃 Does Kakashi have opinions (and possibly pouts) over the selection or availability at the library? Is he delighted by the romance section but has the horrors at the idea of having to make small talk with the clerk while he’s checking out his books? 🍃 Does the Hatake clan have a clan library? Books/scrolls of clan jutsu or history? 🍃 Of course, there are possibilities beyond books or even other media as well - perhaps something focused on Kakashi’s extensive library of memorised jutsu?

With options as varied as . . . well, the genres and materials to be found on library shelves! What will you choose to check out?

❧ Our 2023 Prompts ☙ | ❧ all Prompt Discussion posts ☙

#KakashiWeek2023 #KakashiWeek #Kakashi Week 2023 #Kakashi Week #prompt discussion #Library #Day 1 #2023 Day 1

[cranehusbands]

red right hand

sylvain jose gautier/hubert von vestra; canon adjacent; vampire au; white clouds, black eagles route; be!sylvain; slight wrist trauma cw. 6739 words

a/n; houghkay i have not posted fic in over a year and idk if this is even how we do this anymore, but i don’t mind. i’m super excited to be writing again and i adore fire emblem so much, i think i deserve a little treat in making content for me in specific. i hope you all enjoy.

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated!

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

The events of the past month had sent the workings of both the Officers Academy and the monastery that ran it into chaos.

The end of the Verdant Rain Moon found the members of the Black Eagle house, representatives of the Empire of Adrestia, assisting House Gautier in returning its Hero’s Relic after it had been stolen by one of their own. Well, former own, as the Margrave had disowned his eldest son some time ago and, by some indescribable miracle, the man had grown bitter. Especially toward his younger brother, who now resided among the ranks of those outside his holy kingdom, after having transferred houses in the months before. Sylvain Jose Gautier, for what it was worth, had faced Miklan with his head held high, adamant that he was not as useless as the aggressive but equally as irritating man had insinuated. This, however, could not stop the horror that followed. A former noble turned into a beast, a crestless man trying to play in the grounds of gods, so to speak- the lance had turned Miklan into far bigger of a threat than he originally posed, and though he was taken out quickly, they still suffered some heavy damage. Including Sylvain himself, who had taken a heavy hit from the beast his brother became- a bite, even.

Or at least, that’s what Hubert had been told. Being commanded by Edelgard to watch their back line for invading bandits trying to aid their leader, he hadn’t been within view to witness such a thing himself. He’d only heard about it later from Linhardt and Mercedes, who the professor had asked for earlier in the months- and their consensus was that it was a bad wound. One that had to be treated medically, and not just by the white magic they had on hand, one that they said had left him silent (a miracle) and convulsing (terribly unfortunate). He was, of course, more than alive when they had returned to the monastery, but this was where the trouble had started.

No one had seen him in over three weeks.

It would be excusable if Sylvain had the courtesy to inform them, but both Edelgard and Byleth had been worried about his condition and the time he had taken to grieve, and their pleas had gone unanswered. The both of them had made the decision to continue to give him space, but Hubert himself had little patience to wait. He disliked not having all the pieces on the board, and Sylvain, in all his ability to irritate and demean, was a wildcard he could not leave unsupervised and unaccounted for. Even worse, now that the next disaster had been decided as soon as the class returned from that particular ordeal- the younger sister of the Archbishop’s right hand was currently missing, with no trace as to where she had gone, and needless to say, Seteth was in something of a frantic state trying to find her. Lady Rhea herself had assigned Byleth, and by extension her students, to the cause of finding the young girl, but through all the chaos, students and teachers alike were all pointing fingers at one another. Hubert, of course, was aware of the identity of Flayn’s captors, though their reasons eluded him, much to his frustration. He could hardly trust these fiends he and his lady had aligned themselves with, at least for the time, but their hands were thoroughly tied. Their mission to rescue the girl would be unsuccessful if they were unable to devise a plan to cover for themselves in the eyes of the church- and even less successful if they were a man down. 

The mage's boots echoed as he ascended the hall of the noble’s dormitory, the one or two students lingering around giving him more than enough room to pass by as he reached the room at the very end in a swift amount of time from his own, staring up at the double doors, pausing for a moment to assess and to listen. There were no noises coming from behind it, unlike in the months before when there would be far too much, from voices most certainly not belonging to the man who was supposed to be occupying it, alone. He grimaced at the thought, raising a fist to the door as he gritted his teeth in a low growl of dissatisfaction. 

Hubert knocked with assurance, though it wasn’t particularly hard- simply firm, clear in which door he was knocking upon, in case Sylvain were to think otherwise. A long moment followed that, as Hubert waited for a response, be that an explanation or simply a confirmation he was alive. There was nothing. 

“Gautier. I know you’re in there, ignoring me is futile.” If he attempted, the door could easily be picked, and Hubert would let himself in to drag the man out here himself to answer for his absences.

And it seemed the attempt was, in fact, being made. Hubert scowled.

“You have failed to show up to lectures for weeks. Both our professor and Lady Edelgard have been asking for you, and you have continued to ignore them both.” What happened at the tower, as far as he had heard, was a tragedy- literally, in the way the beast that he was told was Sylvain’s brother roared in a way that bounced off of the walls. There was a pang of sympathy, but nothing more, crushed as quickly as it had manifested, as he reached for the doorknob. “If you don’t answer for yourself, I’ll be forced to enter. Do not make me ask again-”

When the door suddenly opened in front of him, Hubert was caught off guard. But the sight in front of him made that twofold. Sylvain was a ghost of the man he once not weeks before. Still broad and well-built, holding his pride in his chest in an almost literal sense, but everything else looked awful. Wide-eyed, pale, a tremor in his hands as he held the door open, perhaps even the kind that wracked through his body and made it difficult to stand. He was unwell. Was this the effect of grief? 

“There.” He looked terrible, and sounded as much as well, quiet and rasping. Like a man starved. “I’m alive. You happy now? You gonna go tell Edelgard I’m not dying on her doorstep, bringing shame to her house?”

Hubert scoffed. “You certainly look to be dying. Have you been eating?”

Hesitation. Never in his time at the academy had he ever seen Sylvain hesitate. “…Been trying. It’s hard to keep it down.”

“Have you caught something?”

“Probably? It was- it was raining pretty heavy, so-”

“This isn’t just a simple cold.”

“Let me believe it for a second, ‘Bertie. I’m too pretty to die.”

The mage rolled his eyes at the dramatics, even if he could sense there was more truth to the words than Sylvain cared to admit. He was among their best and brightest, as much as he tried to play otherwise- the first to pass an advanced exam in their house, training to be a cavalier, though he put that down to luck and experience over his own exceptionality. To lose such an asset would be a blow to the house. Hubert kept his hands behind his back, and he peered into the room around Sylvain’s side. It was mostly clean, except for old clothes and plates on the floor, and the way his bed hadn’t been made, likely because he had been laying in it in the hours and days before the disturbance, too sick to move. A hum of consideration escaped him, before he sat up straight again. “Very well. Let me in.”

“What?”

The element of surprise was the only reason that Hubert was able to overpower, in this scenario, and he would not kill himself otherwise- if Sylvain truly wanted to keep him out, or in one place, he would have no trouble doing so. But despite this, he entered the room with ease, inspecting it further now that he was inside, the only response being the sound of the door clicking closed behind him.

The mess was more obvious now, but hardly could be considered abhorrent behaviour. It was still relatively neat, surprisingly so- though, considering the number of women Sylvain smuggled in here for his recreational activities, it should not be that much of a surprise- and could be excused by his need to grieve, if not this mysterious illness that had befallen him. Hubert inspected for a few moments more, running a gloved finger along the counter towards the back of the room, before turning at the sound of the bed creaking. A glance told him that the redhead could not stand any longer, exhaling a breath of exertion and gripping at the sheets to keep himself steady and upright, still pale, still shaking. The mage stood to his full height again, turning fully to watch the way Sylvain rolled his neck, and tried to settle as he looked anywhere else other than his uninvited guest, but it only seemed like he was making himself more restless in the process. It was then that Hubert spotted them, a small and precise set of puncture marks, hidden beneath the collar of Sylvain’s shirt, once wrapped in bandages but now were mostly healed. It was a small, but curious observation- enough to make Hubert step forward, and take a hold of the bottom of his chin between a two-finger vice grip, pulling his head up to observe.

There was a muffled noise of protest from Sylvain as he registered what was happening, perhaps a little slower than he should have (delayed reaction time, to add to his list of symptoms), but Hubert was able to catch the way the pupils of his eyes blew up at the proximity, in the same way the cats of the monastery did when they went about hunting odd mice and fish around the place, before he pulled himself away, rubbing at his cheeks and his face with an annoyed grumble, “Woah, hey, hands off, big guy, I’m not interested in whatever manhandling you’re offering.”

He, mercifully, chose to ignore such prodding. “This isn’t a sickness.”

“Huh?”

“It is some sort of affliction, certainly, but seems more akin to a curse than something naturally occurring.”

Sylvain narrowed his eyes, watching the man in front of him stand back up to his full height again.

“…This was not my doing, if that was your first thought.”

His suspicion lessened slightly, as he leaned back where he sat. It was enough to get Hubert to roll his eyes in response, folding his arms across his chest- hardly a defensive gesture, though it could come across as such to the untrained eye. He’d been accused of far worse. A matter such as this did not bother him.

“Now, if you’re quite done, can you think of anyone that would want to do this to you?”

Sylvain laughed, short and loud, perhaps even bitter. “You want that in alphabetical order, or in order of relevance?”

Again, there was a hum, as he listened to the empty chuckle slowly dissolve into a sigh, as the redhead looked again to the door. Hubert watched his throat bob as he stared off in contemplation, eyes falling again to the start of the injuries left by his brother the previous month. It seemed far less than what one would expect from a bite at the hands of a beast. How curious.

Leaning forward again, Hubert moved his hand to fiddle with the collar of Sylvain’s shirt- enough to get him to look back with the start of some confused address, before his mouth was covered with an open palm, and he continued to pull down the collar of his shirt as much as he was able. He had been told the bite was bloody, and had left Sylvain utterly indisposed. In fact, he had seen the aftermath of the thing on the floor, red pooling where the body of the fallen cavalier had once been, pulled off of his horse like an animal’s chew toy. But this was hardly that. It wasn’t a mauling mark, or even something venomous- just a row of puncture marks along his neck and the back of his shoulder, extending to where he could not see with the shirt in the way. Hubert pressed his fingers into the underside of his jaw, harsh but hardly a jab, though it still got a hiss out of Sylvain- more akin to an angry animal than anything like a reaction of pain. He was irritated, not hurt, and that was perhaps the strangest thing. He turned the cavalier’s head some more, giving him a better view of the wound from this angle, the hissing only getting worse in reaction, but he didn’t pay it any mind- Hubert simply continued inspecting, pinching at the flesh and squeezing, with little there other than these strange indents, despite there needing to be more, from how large the beast was, and how thoroughly it had grabbed on. 

He was stopped suddenly by a flare of pain in his palm, which had held Sylvain’s mouth to move his head, and quickly snatched his hand away, checking it with a scowl and a scathing comment of childishness at the tip of his tongue. But Hubert paused, amid these musings, as blood began to pool on the surface of his gloved hand, slowly staining the silk from two evenly spaced puncture marks. Mouth hanging open with no sound falling from it, the mage looked up, slowly, at Sylvain, who seemed to be just as surprised at the mark he’d left behind, seeming to sniff before swallowing and moving his face away, barely masking the glint of sharp teeth underneath.

It all made far too much sense, now. The strange bite marks, the symptoms, all pointing to one thing. Though the origins of the black beasts that came from corruption at the hands of the crest stones was under-researched (more than likely due to the lack of subjects both alive and willing), linking them to those of vampiric origin hardly seemed like an extraordinary leap in logic. Whatever attack Miklan had landed on Sylvain could have corrupted his blood, only sparing his life because of the crest he loathed so much. Of course, this was only a theory as to his current state. Further assessment had to be made to confirm if he had even been turned at all, because this could well be a classic case of jumping to a conclusion and assuming the worst before his feet hit the ground.

“You’re a vampire.”

“What?”

“Do not make me repeat myself.”

“No, no, I heard, you, I just-” Sylvain seemed to be panicking, another odd emotion that Hubert had never seen out of him. He swallowed, trying to turn forward again, but it seemed he could not stop himself from looking at the blood that was still pooling under Hubert’s glove- even covering his mouth and his nose with something of a grimacing sound.

“You can smell it, can’t you? The blood?” As he spoke, he removed his glove, observing the way that Sylvain could not help but stare at the blackened hand corrupted by dark magic, even out of the corner of his eye. As he moved it closer as a test, the redhead almost craned his neck away in retaliation. With his other thumb, Hubert wiped the blood away and onto the front of his pants, inspecting the wound underneath. Evenly spaced bite marks, though they were slowly starting to seal, most likely due to the lack of time they had pierced the skin. He held his hand up, to show the man the thing he seemed so afraid of was gone, and he seemed to lose his tension even slightly, even if he still kept himself recoiled as he moved his hand away to support himself with a hefty swallow.

“So… what? I’m some kind of blood-sucking freak?”

Hubert hummed. “If that's what you want to consider yourself, then yes.”

He watched the way Sylvain tightened his fists around the sheets underneath him like they were a lifeline then, some sort of anchor to keep him grounded in the moment as his mind began to wander to other things, eyes trying to look anywhere but the mage assessing him in silence. This wasn’t the uncomfortable sort of squirming he’d grown used to from other students when he would observe them, the kind where people would try and get away from him in subtle ways, preferring to hide rather than face him. No, this carried a different energy. Sylvain was not avoiding looking at him because he was unnerved- this felt more like he was ashamed. Ashamed of the revelation, one that was still distressing him, clearly, but he still needed to eat- and now that he knew what he could eat, the thought could not escape him. And that in itself, strangely enough, was revelation enough to get Hubert to move.

He swiftly turned away from the bed to undo the front of his uniform, removing the jacket and gently folding it over the back of the chair beside the desk in a clean, efficient motion. Usually, he would sooner have another student dead than to have them see him strip a layer, especially Sylvain, who no doubt would have had a wry comment on the edge of his tongue if not for his current state. But times were desperate and the possibilities for the outcome were enticing. If the Gautier boy was, in fact, turning into a vampire, that could either be a bane to the kingdom for Faerghus that he would return to, a weed to be rooted out and, thus, a bane to the Empire to rid its enemy of their future Margrave… or, perhaps, if they could convince the man to turn from his homeland, to control him, to have such strength on their side would put them at an advantage regardless. And that was simply the first reason- the second, even despite himself, was a curiosity Hubert felt growing, at the prospect of something of legend being close enough to study, to feel. When would he get this opportunity again? As loath as he was to spend time in a room with Sylvain, perhaps his frail state of health that came from his turning would make the experience tolerable.

Hubert turned after smoothing out his uniform jacket to the best of his ability, tugging on his gloves to keep them on and rolling up a sleeve of his shirt, exposing the darkened, magic-stained skin underneath- blackened like wood left to roast on the fire too long, becoming charcoal and ash. This was hardly the full extent of the damage from years of using dark magic, but he wasn’t going to be quick to expose all of that. Especially not under Sylvain’s gaze, whose attention by now has been fully caught. Though he did not squirm underneath it, Hubert certainly disliked it, and very slowly raised an eyebrow. “...What?”

“Ha- eugh- nothing, I just- I thought you said I was a vampire? Not a succubus. Stripping isn’t going to do much, big guy.”

The glare he gives is mostly involuntary, in reaction to the juvenile comment that he really should have expected. It seemed that even if Sylvain was at death’s door, he would still be an annoyance- his simple compliance was too much to hope for. “If you’re well enough to make jokes, I can leave you to control your urges yourself.”

“No- no, hey, let’s not be hasty now.” The panic ran through him swiftly, it seemed, and it put him back in his place just as quick, despite his agonising over the choice moments before. It left him to sit as still as he could manage with the tremors of hunger and weakness that still ran through him, Hubert gave a self-satisfied hum at the silence that followed, finishing cuffing his shirt as he stopped just in front of the bed where the future Margrave still sat, like a sheepish, scolded dog. His weakened disposition was hardly the confidence he would want to exude, now or in the future.

In a slow movement, like coaxing a beast, Hubert held out his arm to Sylvain, who slowly moved his head to stare at it in confusion. He answered the question of what it was for before he even got to open his mouth to ask. “Eat.”

“...What? Hubert, I’m not going to-” “I will not command it again, Gautier. You will die without blood. Slowly, and painfully, hidden away in here because you cannot bear to be in the sun to prey upon the female populace as you’re so used to in your ordinary, pathetic life.” He leans down slowly to meet the deep brown eyes that stared back at him, suddenly coming into focus at what he assumed to be his smell- it was assumed vampires had heightened senses, and judging from the way he saw the redhead’s pupils blow up from the new sensations, he could only guess that to be a correct assumption. “Eat.”

Again, there was hesitancy in the eyes that began flicking away from Hubert’s face down to his wrist, to the floor and back again. But just before he was able to scoff and retract his offer, Sylvain slowly took a hold of his forearm with one hand, pulling down the silk glove slightly with the other, to better expose the veins underneath. His mouth hung open for a moment, tongue slowly running between his teeth, and now Hubert could see the elongated fangs his classmate had acquired in his transformation from human to superhuman in more than just a glint, as if a trick of the light, razor-sharp and dangerous, but very, very real.

He didn’t think about the way his mouth went dry at the sight, and instead grew frustrated at how long it was taking. “Well?”

“Hold on, I’m…” Sylvain didn’t look up, swallowing and pressing his thumb into his wrist, inspecting the veins, even as his hands still shook- perhaps even more so now, at the prospect of a meal being dangled in front of him like a morsel of prey on a silver platter. 

It took a moment to realise what he was doing- desperately and stupidly trying to find the right spot to puncture with his teeth, without killing him. Hubert clicked his tongue at the fumbling display, rolling his shoulders from the way he was bending down, as it was beginning to cause an ache in his neck and irritation in his temples from the time wasted here, that could be spent anywhere else. Sylvain could survive another day without food- Hubert could have found anyone to give to the man, rather than offering himself. Intimidate some poor student, perhaps even take out an enemy in one fell swoop, give them to an inexperienced vampire for his first meal, and more than likely his first kill. But he didn’t. He had offered his hand and so, regrettably, he would see it through. Taking his free hand, Hubert wrapped it in the other man’s hair in a tight fist (a noise came out of him at the notion, something of surprise and perhaps even pleasure, but he, wisely, chose to ignore it) before he pushed his head forward towards the offered wrist, lining Sylvain up perfectly with where he needed to be as he himself lowered to one knee to save his aching back. Hubert knew about the lethal places to bleed from, and the safe places for shallower cuts, meant for torture rather than a swift end. The latter, of course, was the intention of his direction, where he now held the man. So long as Sylvain showed some restraint, for once, he would be alright. There was a moment of consideration at such a thought, and after that, the mage kept his fist in his hair, grip looser but still firm. “There. Now stop stalling, or I swear, I will leave you here to starve.”

The eyes that darted up to him for a moment were far different then from the ones Sylvain had been giving him previously. Whereas before they carried reluctance, now, it seemed, that hunger had truly claimed him. Hubert watched his pupils dilate, almost swallowing the warm brown of them in a void of black, looking away again as he began to feel hot breath against the inside of his wrist, almost panting before there was a surge of fire and pain at the ball of his thumb, fangs sinking deep into the flesh. He’d felt worse pain. So he did not flinch, nor did he look away- he simply employed the empirical method, and began to observe. 

It was a curious sort of feeling, as the blood came out of him in slivers. While there was the sensation of sucking, what came more than anything was the wet feeling of Sylvain’s tongue lapping up whatever escaped thereafter like a hungry mutt on the streets of Enbarr. Amid the feast were quiet growls of satisfaction, almost yips in their pitch and length, and insistent pulling of the mage’s arm further into his mouth, as if he could swallow it whole, wanting and greedy. It should have been a disgusting display, especially from a man who takes and takes without restraint as much as Sylvain, but somehow, Hubert could not help but to not feel that way. There is pity, even, in the way he observed such an act from a starving man. Pity that a man like Sylvain had been given such a life- forced upon him as most everything else had been, a fact he was careful not to speak about. Hubert had heard it, though- overheard it, more like, from the shadows, never involved directly in conversation but always listening. He’d heard the redhead arguing with his fellow Faerghans when he’d decided to change houses- that swordsman had called him a coward, with vitriol but no malice, only hurt, and the Galatea girl was just as hurt by the gesture, but kinder in her pleas. Surprisingly, this did not make Sylvain fold to their whims and change his mind. He’d remained with the Black Eagles, and the next month, he’d confronted his brother. And now…

And now, here he was. Feasting on the blood of another like a beast.

Hubert watched some of his blood dribble down his wrist before Sylvain was able to catch it, droplets hitting the man’s leg, but he didn’t seem to care. He carried on eating, carried on taking, only concerning himself with that and that alone, tunnel-visioned like an animal amidst a hunt. He was still growling all the while, still gripping onto Hubert’s arm like a lifeline, somehow getting more desperate to eat even when the food was right in front of him. It made sense, of course- it had been weeks since the tower, and between grieving and the corruption setting in, he hadn’t had a chance to eat what would keep him alive. Meals from the dining hall wouldn’t sustain him any longer, a fact he didn’t know until minutes before. And, despite the way he was being fed upon, the mage still felt he had control- control enough to tug on Sylvain’s hair, to remind him to pace himself, which he seemed receptive to, pulling back again with that same little noise as before, if a little weaker as he continued on. Perhaps he would need to curb such a commanding habit, if this Faerghan harlot was enjoying it- then again, he was behaving for the moment, so why did it matter? Just another way to remain in command of the situation.

There was a sudden wave of faintness that overcame him as he continued to look at Sylvain, wavering where he knelt, enough to where he had to close his eyes and actively think about swallowing away the dryness of his mouth. His eyes were slow to open again, hearing his own breath and the beating of his heart as he looked up from the floor to the boots directly in front of him as he remained on one knee, the fire still burning in his wrist. 

“Gautier.” Hubert’s voice was far weaker than he liked, as he shook his head and attempted to sit up despite his rapidly approaching vertigo. He gritted his teeth, and tried again. “Gautier, that’s enough.”

It seemed the pleas- no, the demands, because Hubert never pleaded- fell on deaf ears, and the devouring of his arm only grew more frequent.

There was a nauseous pit in his chest now. The mage tightened his grip still in Sylvain’s hair. “Sylvain. Enough.”

Those hunter’s eyes met him again, unrecognisable as the man that once was Sylvain, nose wrinkling in a deep growl so different from the noises of satisfaction in the minutes before. No, these were ones of possessiveness and food aggression- of a starved creature not ready to let go of its prey, not yet full and thus not yet satisfied. He had no intention of stopping now that he had what he wanted- if there was no forceful end to it now, Hubert would be dead from blood loss within minutes. 

The mage felt the pain in his jaw from how it clenched in frustration, trying to keep himself conscious, as he used all of his rapidly draining strength to pull the other man back by the hair, unlatching his fangs from the inside of his wrist and spraying loose bits of blood over the both of them and the sheets underneath. Hubert fell on his backside as he moved away, pushing himself away with his feet a few times before clutching onto his wrist to keep himself from losing any more blood. He could hear his heart in his ears as he tried to calm down, and gather the strength to stand. 

But in that moment, foolishly letting his attention grow lax, there was a key detail that he seemed to forget. He was trapped in a room with Sylvain- no, the vampire that Sylvain had become. One that was hungry, and desperate, and above all, still not done. Hubert did not hear the beast rise to its feet, only the feeling of a knee against his stomach as it pinned him to the floor, and the hot air and spit that hit his face as his shoulders were pinned in turn. There was a noise of what could only be described as a snarl that forced him to look up at the face that met him. His own heartbeat grew faster still, thumping against his chest as this animal drew closer to his neck, teeth bared. This little experiment- one that should have never been conducted, he realised now, far too late- had gone beyond the realm of danger, and rapidly into one that could mean his end, if he didn’t act on his instincts to defend himself right now.

He cared not to apologise in his head for turning his magic against a potential ally, after struggling under the hefty weight of the man on top of him, as Hubert curled his hands into the flesh of Sylvain’s side and felt the surge of mire pulse through his veins, powerful enough that the brute paused in his trajectory of attack towards his throat, as if to consider what was happening-

The scream of pain released was animalistic, pitched and yowling as he pulled back, hands hovering on the burns in his bloodied uniform, bubbling against his exposed skin in a sickly, disgustingly infected purple. It was enough of a release in weight to get Hubert to sit up and push himself away yet again, his back hitting the drawers of the desk, handles digging into the flesh. His chest heaved with exhaustion, vision blacking as he stared forward at the beast, wincing and holding onto its side- his side, as despite the way the blood stained his face and his shirt, the warm brown of his eyes were visible again, and the way his nose wrinkled was from the pain, rather than the hunger. Sylvain had returned. And he was reaping what his impulses had sewn.

There was the thick smell of sulphur in the air as the spell still burned and singed at the skin, but for a moment, things seemed calm, as if in the eye of the storm. The mage wasn’t stupid enough to believe the danger had passed- though whatever bloodlust had taken a hold of Sylvain was now gone, it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be angry in his own right from an attack. And it didn’t take any modicum of vampiric strength to assess that to be a threat- he saw it now, in the chest of the cavalier that still rose and fell with heavy breaths of exertion, blood-stained shirt leaving very little to the imagination. He was strong in his own right, built for brute force with the width of his shoulders and his arms carrying most of it. Though he could say with experience now what it felt to have the weight of the other man on top of him, with how the wind had been taken out of his chest by the power of the other man’s legs alone. Hubert looked to Sylvain for a few minutes more, before shooting his eyes down to the floor after making the realisation that his observation was not, in fact, for his own self-preservation and caution, and cursing himself for falling victim to certain thoughts just as easily as everyone else.

“…Ow, fuck, ‘Bertie. You could have killed me.” The laugh is breathless, but it cut through the air enough to get Hubert to look up in a snap, just as quickly as he had torn it away, back at the face that doesn’t meet him. Still clutching his side, still hurting, it seemed that was all Sylvain could focus on. Good.

“That was my intent. You were going to kill me first.” It’s a simple statement, and yet still, there’s a noise of offence, as he glances up again.

The brown of his eyes is still there. “No, I wasn’t-”

“You were.”

A beat of silence. “…Not on purpose.”

“I know.” A normal person would go to reassure him, to tell a person to not feel bad about their mistake, but Hubert keeps his mouth shut. He wasn’t going to coddle Sylvain, much like he wasn’t going to bicker back and forth about the intent of his attack. He was out of control, in the moment, and this would be a lesson to not do that through negative reinforcement. Hopefully.

There was another round of silence, but this time noticeably calmer. The storm had well and truly passed now. Sylvain sat up as he leaned back against the bed, hissing and muttering to himself as he fixed his slouched stance so as to not cause damage to himself further with his posture. He certainly seemed a lot more sombre now, than a few minutes before, hungry and snarling. “…Look, Hubert-”

“Don’t bother.” Whatever excuse Sylvain was about to give was cut off with a bite, something as acidic as the spell that had started to settle in, its damage already being done. Hubert glowered from across the room, still trying to steady himself as best he could to stumble and find some assistance- but for now, he remained seated, back pressed to the desk to keep himself upright, despite the tension in his shoulders that wouldn't lessen with time. “I do not want your apologies. I simply should never have let you do this. You’re too inexperienced.”

“Ha. That’s the first time I’ve heard that complaint.”

“Gautier.”

“Okay, okay. Bad timing.” He fell into silence after that, glancing down at the hand at his side that had still dug into the acid-burned flesh and sinew, slowly lifting it with a quick inhale through his teeth at the stinging pain and the bits that came away on his fingers. From what Hubert could see, the wound was already starting to heal, exposed muscle burned away being hidden as the skin stitched itself together again, and from what he heard- a laugh, disbelieving and breathless, if not a little bit unsettled at the display- it seemed Sylvain had not expected such an outcome.

“Are you really so clueless about things such as this that you didn’t know about your near-invulnerability?”

“Certainly didn’t feel invulnerable, that hurt like hell.” He was still laughing, even now, finally looking back up again to meet Hubert’s face as he slowly raised an eyebrow. His teeth were still stained red. “Wow, guess I really am a blood-sucking freak, huh?”

There is an indecent scoff at the comment before Hubert can stop himself. “That’s what made you realise? Not the fever-like symptoms, or your salacious eating manners, or the bloodlust?”

The redhead shrugged, making sure to keep a smile that, intentionally or not, bared those fangs that were sunk into the other man’s arm not minutes before. There was a flash of something in his eyes for a moment, but it was gone again before Hubert could truly discern it to be guilt.

After that, they did not speak more on what just occurred, or simply much at all. Sylvain stood up again, not bothering to remove his bloody and marred shirt, handing Hubert a half-empty glass of water that stood nearby the bedside- stale, but still drinkable. He did, however, get to work removing his bedsheets, tossing them off into a corner with the rest of his laundry (or around where other items had been thrown, as they were scattered most everywhere in an attempt to get to the corner) before crouching down and replacing them with clean ones again. Hubert did not bother to help him. He did not have the energy, nor the desire to be close to him, and so he took instead to watching the width of his shoulders as he worked, drinking until the glass was empty again. He was not bleeding as profusely now, but the wound still hurt, pinpricks in the wrist burning as he removed his bloody hand, and tried to grip the corner of the desk behind himself to pull himself up, apparently making such a noise of effort that caused the redhead to turn, pillow case still in hand.

“Oh, shit, do you need-”

“Do not touch me.”

The command was simple enough to work, forceful enough to keep the dog in his place, looking the mage up and down for a moment, before turning back to work with a quieter, “You got it, big guy.”

It was a simple affair to rise, then, and cross the room again as he had done to enter. The door had not been locked, and for a moment, Hubert thought about what would have happened if he had realised that, during the attack- if he had tried to run down the hall. Would the beast have followed, released from his cage? Would he have killed someone, had to be put down? Hubert ran his tongue along the back of his teeth, contemplating the reality of having saved Sylvain’s life without intending, before turning the handle and pulling the door inward to exit.

Though he stopped again at the threshold, half in and half out, turning back in for a moment to add, as a final closer.

“This will not leave this room. Your secret, or my weakness. Are we clear?”

Sylvain turned again, from laying the fresh blanket down across fresh sheets, where now the only sign of anything off was the amount of blood- Hubert’s blood, that still covered his body and his clothes. There was a moment of consideration, before a slow nod, as Sylvain began licking away some of the blood that still lingered in one corner of his mouth, despite it being practically all over the bottom of his face.

And with that, Hubert closed the door, and headed straight for his room again, with intent to keep his word and tend to his own wounds. No one would know. This, he would be sure of. 

#fire emblem three houses #sylvbert #sylvain jose gautier #hubert von vestra #dahl.doc #// #HOUGH i did it. we did it boys. #now time to melt for the next six months /j

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 109]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51

Not going to do this for much today, but I want to finish the chapter.

Chapter 52 (Mr. Deknis)

It was Jeffers Deknis’s second busiest time of year right after the fall harvest. However, unlike the fall harvest, not all of his workers were yet at the castle. The winter had been harsh and while the last snowfall had been a month ago, many of his workers whose families lived far from the castle had sent word they would be late arriving for various reasons. A few were dealing with sick relatives and others had to help fix things broken by storms for their families before making the trek. One who lived in the mountains up north was still snowed in.

So, he was dealing with only about 70% of his usual staff, meaning he was even busier than he usually was in the spring.

However, despite how busy he was, he didn’t mind taking a bit of time out of his schedule to help plant a little plot of land he’d reserved for a special selection of plants.

Virgil has spent a lot of time deciding on what plant he wanted to grow in the plot Jerffers had given him. He’d combed through multiple books even though it quickly became clear he couldn’t read well and talked to Jeffers about his options extensively before finally coming to a decision.

He’d decided on a flower called Zygopetalum maculatum which was a type of orchid. It wouldn’t be an easy flower to grow considering they didn’t naturally have the right climate for it, but with a bit of magical fertilizer and ruins in the ground near them, it was feasible.

Since Virgil had chosen his flower, Jeffers had dedicated a bit of his time each day to explaining what they needed to do for it to grow and had set him up with the correct materials. Virgil had spent a good chunk of the last two weeks outside on his marked off plot of land doing as instructed to get the soil in the right condition.

Sometimes Logan and Patton joined him and sometimes he was alone, but he was clearly dedicated to his task. Jeffers had stopped by and tested the soil the day before and found it was adequately prepared for planting Virgil’s flowers and had told the boy as much.

Despite being already very busy, Jeffers had allowed for an hour out of his schedule to help Virgil plant his flowers this afternoon.

Even though Jeffers had told him exactly where in his schedule he’d made time for it, Virgil had come early.

Very early.

He’d stalked Jeffers’ footsteps all day. If the boy were a cat, Jeffers would have assumed he’d accidentally left a slice of meat in his back pocket after breakfast.

Jeffers ended up letting him help with a few other things in the morning which he seemed to enjoy. He seemed to appreciate planting things even if they weren’t his flowers. He was also good at it if a bit slower than necessary in his caution to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.

Jeffers ended up sending Patton to get an extra packed lunch from Helen for Virgil (as people didn’t like when the gardeners tracked mud into the dinning hall) and they ended up eating while sitting on the base of the fountain by the plot of land Virgil had been tending to.

The water in the fountain was now flowing, having recently been cleaned and turned on and birds were chirping in the distance. It was a nice, calming environment. This was why Jeffers liked to spend so much time outside. Or at least, it was one of the reasons.

There was a soft meow from beside them that drew Jeffers’ attention. Jeffers looked down to see one of the castle’s many cats standing on its hind legs with one of its paws on the fountain’s base. It was staring at them expectantly. Jeffers recognized the yellow stripped cat as one of the friendlier ones that Patton had tamed as a kitten. It meowed again when it saw him looking.

“What?” Jeffers asked it, raising one eyebrow. “I know you’re not starving.”

It meowed again in complaint. Then it turned to Virgil. Virgil was instantly tearing off a bit of his chicken sandwich to feed to the cat.

“You don’t need to feed him,” Jeffers said. “Patton takes care of that plenty well.”

Despite what Jeffers had said, the cat gobbled up the piece of chicken Virgil had fed him like he was starving.

“It’s Buttercup,” Virgil informed Jeffers. The name vaguely rang a bell.

“You remember all of Patton’s names for them?” Jeffers asked, honestly impressed. There were so many cats.

Virgil nodded and ripped off another piece of chicken. The cat went flying at it with gusto.

“Keep some for yourself too,” Jeffers said. “You look less fed than the cats.” Thankfully he was looking more fed than he had at the beginning of winter.

“But he’s hungry,” Virgil replied with a frown.

“He’s a glutton is what he is,” Jeffers said. “He’s already had his lunch by now I’d imagine and is more than free to hunt down rodents in the barn if he needs a snack.”

Virgil frowned and gave the cat another piece of chicken.

“You’re too good of a kid,” Jeffers said with an eyeroll.

Virgil just frowned at him and took a bite of his sandwich for himself this time.

“Make sure to eat extra dinner if you’re going to feed the cats your lunch,” Jeffers said. “Though I’m sure Helen will be feeding you extra by default when she hears you’ve been helping me in the garden all day.”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said, stubbornly. He took another bite of his sandwich and fed another to the cat.

Jeffers considered him. ‘Fine,’ was a very vague word and his powers didn’t ping on it as a lie because it could mean a variety of things. He had a feeling Virgil knew that.

Jeffers wasn’t a fool. The kids had been talking around his powers about something all summer, though he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was about. Virgil was almost as good at it as Logan. Maybe he was even better.

“Not hungry enough to eat the entire sandwich by yourself then?” Jeffers asked.

Instead of replying verbally, Virgil just shrugged. Clever little bastard.

Jeffers sighed. Helen had packed some of the canned peaches in their lunches, so Jeffers pulled his out and set the container next to the boy. Virgil looked at the offering in surprise.

“Cats don’t eat peaches,” he cautioned. “It’s bad for their digestion.”

“I don’t need to take your food,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Yeah, you do,” said Jeffers. “I’m and old man, not a growing boy. You should eat them.”

Virgil frowned and looked like he was about to argue.

“Eat your lunch so we can plant your flowers kid,” Jeffers huffed.

Virgil hesitated, but the idea of getting to plant his flowers seemed to trump his desire to argue with Jeffers about lunch and he picked up the dish of peaches.

Jeffers went about finishing what was left of his lunch as Virgil continued to eat his own. The cat ran off when it noticed there was no more meat available.

Jeffers rolled his eyes. The thing was probably running off to go scam more people out of their lunch. Patton had spoiled them far too much and they were too good at making cute starving expressions.

“Alright,” Jeffers said once they were done. “Are you ready to plant your orchids.”

Virgil nodded eagerly and Jeffers packed away their trash before getting up.

“Good,” Jeffers said. “You have all of the supplies I told you we needed gathered?”

Virgil nodded and started to list off everything that Jeffers had said.

“Then, we can get started planting,” Jeffers said with a smile.

  Chapter 53 (Virgil)

Virgil and Mr. Deknis took their time planting the orchids. Virgil had done everything Mr. Deknis had instructed him to do with the plot of land prior to planting. He’d had Mr. Deknis write it all down, so Logan could read him the instructions each morning, and had dutifully followed each step. The sheet of paper was in Virgil’s pocket even now. He knew the words so well at this point that he could have recited each list item even if it had words he still couldn’t read.

It had been hard work getting the soil just right for the flowers he wanted to plant, but it was fun hard work. Working hard was different when he didn’t have to do something but wanted to do something. He’d also noticed it was easier to do physical labor when he wasn’t hungry, something he hadn’t been all winter in the castle.

He’d thought since he hadn’t been training as much as usual over the winter months that he’d be weaker when Spring came, but he actually felt stronger and had much more energy.

He’d also grown taller without realizing it thanks to Logan’s nutrition potion. He’d noticed when he’d been in the shed earlier. When he’d first hid in the shed upon arriving at the castle the previous fall, he’d been able to walk under all of the hanging tools in the back. Today, he’d hit his head on some of the them.

His body had changed a lot in the past few months. It made planting with Mr. Deknis much easier.

Virgil had already helped Mr. Deknis with planting some vegetables this Spring, but he still was careful to pay attention as the gardener showed him how to plant the first few orchid bulbs.

Then, Virgil was handed the container of bulbs for himself to try planting. Mr. Deknis watched him plant the first few orchids and Virgil glanced up for approval before moving on each time. He always got a nod and small smile.

Eventually, Mr. Deknis took a few bulbs himself to the opposite end of the patch of soil and started planting some himself, trusting Virgil to plant his portion of the flowers right without supervision. Virgil couldn’t help but be happy about the show of trust given to him.

“Good job,” Mr. Deknis said after the two of them had planted two rows of orchids. “You’ve got an eye for planting things.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said bashfully.

“How old are you again?”

“I’m 14,” Virgil said, unsure why he was asking.

Mr. Deknis nodded. “Maybe in a few years you’ll want to get a job as one of the gardeners here,” he said. “I could always use one who knows how to respect plants like you and with how much you’ve been volunteering to help already, you’ll know a good amount by then.”

“Really?” Virgil asked.

Mr. Deknis nodded.

“Why not now?”

“You’re only 14,” Mr. Deknis said. “You don’t need to worry about working. I’m happy to let you tag along and watch or even help a bit with planting when you want, but you should just be a kid.”

That confused Virgil. He’d been considered out of training to be an assassin as soon as he’d turned 14-years-old last fall. Now he was being told he needed to wait a few years to help plant seeds?

“I could do it,” Virgil said.

“I know you could,” Mr. Deknis said, “but you don’t need to. Have a little fun this summer.”

“But I want to,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis huffed out a laugh. “I know,” he said, “and you can feel free to care for your orchids and help me out all you want, but no jobs until you’re at least 16.”

“It’s better than any other jobs I’ve had,” Virgil muttered, honestly annoyed he couldn’t become a gardener right now because of his age.

Mr. Deknis raised an eyebrow. “And what other jobs have you had?”

Virgil froze. That was not a good line of questioning. “Uh…” Virgil said and Mr. Deknis’s expression was changing in an alarming way. “Different things. I’ve carried things for people and, uh, cleaned.”

“Carried things and cleaned, huh?” Mr. Desknis said. It felt like he wasn’t only testing Virgil’s words for lies but observing his face and posture too.

Virgil should be good at lying. He should. That was a major part of being an assassin, but Virgil had started to slip after spending so long around people who were not a danger to him.

At least not a danger to him as long as he didn’t get caught in a lie.

He’d been sloppy with the way he’d frozen when asked a question and with the stuttering. He should have been prepared; he was prepared for the next question.

“You only had to carry things and clean some things up?” Mr. Deknis asked, his eyebrows still raised.

Virgil carefully smoothed out his face, forcing his shoulder to relax as he shrugged. “And some other things,” he said easily. Not a lie. He could feel his heart race anyway.

Mr. Deknis’s eyes bored into him for a long moment and then he titled his head to the side and squinted at him.

Virgil just shot him a small smile. “Can we finish planting the flowers, please?” he asked politely. “I was very excited about it and would like to finish it today.”

Mr. Deknis did not reply for a long moment, and Virgil was careful to keep his expression blank.

Finally, the gardener relented, breaking his stare. If this was because he believed Virgil or not was unclear.

“Yeah, kid,” he said slowly. “Let’s finish planting your flowers.”

Virgil nodded, and he didn’t have to lie as much now as cautious eagerness returned to him. He really did want to finish planting his flowers in addition to stopping Mr. Deknis from asking uncomfortable questions about where Virgil had come from.

Mr. Deknis nodded to the bag of bulbs. They went back to work planting the flowers, but Virgil could feel Mr. Deknis’s eyes on him almost constantly. He had a feeling that this time, he wasn’t watching for how well Virgil was planting the bulbs, but something else.

Virgil was careful to not let his mask slip at all the entire time.

When they were finished planting Virgil’s entire plot of land, they cleaned up the equipment and stored it back away in the garden shed.

Another day Virgil might have stayed and helped Mr. Deknis with other things. Today he was still trying to cover for his bad lying earlier, however, so, Virgil decided to just go back to the castle and shower.

To his surprise Mr. Deknis also started walking off in the direction of the castle.

“Don’t you have more planting to do?” Virgil asked when they got to the door. He knew the man was very busy and his workday was only a bit more than half over.

“I do,” Mr. Deknis confirmed, “but I needed to talk to the king about something first.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Okay. I’m going to go shower.”

Mr. Deknis nodded. “I’ll see you sometime later then,” he said.

“Thank you for helping me plant the orchids.”

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly at that. “Anytime, kid.”

  Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apple’s saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

 With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risk had become his defacto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

 Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with its rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

 Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you are going to go riding today,” king Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

 “That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

 “Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if he let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

 “Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

 “I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

 “We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.

 Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.

 He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.

 “But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”

“Why?”

#proofread stories #not writing

[goodmode]

Lemm: 11 (by which i mean post a photo of a bug that kinda looks like lemm), 13, 25, 31, 48?

11. Faceclaim for the role (bug photo edition)

the elephant beetle has a very good short-horn-long-horn thing going on that suits his visual BUT the thing about those is, the long horn and general design suits Nailsmith way more. yknow with the fork at the end. so i don't think lemm is that. also, precious little fuzz on those things

woolly chafers have the exact amount of fluff i'd expect from Lemm but they don't have proper horns!! also they're apparently considered excellent fliers. i don't think my interpretation of lemm lends itself to having wings at all. (i've seen some fabulous interpretations! i fully believe everyone should have wings ever if it's cool. i love that. enjoy seeing it around! just not for my headcanon specifically, i like him being a groundbound normie)

the problem with placing Lemm is that his body looks a lot like like the "generic bug" design you have for most of the husks. which are incredibly hard to place because they're just circles with lines across em. and a head. like, you can tell mantises are mantises but what the hell are the generic bugs meant to be.

i can't place him with anything that is both a.) fluffy around the neck and b.) has strong-looking horns. so i guess my headcanon for "what kind of bug is Lemm" is just: he's a bug. he's fluffy and he has horns. i cannot elaborate and choose not to try. if i wanted to justify making up a species for him i could go down any number of worldbuilding routes and the truth is i just don't care to, he's just some guy to me

tl;dr long answer to basically say i don't have one lol. same as i don't have one for a lot of the Generic Bug Types in hallownest. at least with lemm i can say i've thought extensively about it and just turned up zero zilch nada, and am choosing to stick with the "eh, he's somethin" answer

(i headcanon he's a beetle of some kind, and that the horns lend themselves to fighting/wrestling opponents. that's as far as i can get before irl species ask me to pick a branch of specialists and ruin his aesthetic one way or the other)

13. Dumbest thing they've ever done

have you ever been young and thought you're indiana jones? you may be entitled to compensation [a/n: deliberately vague because i already have a specific headcanon for this and there's a good chance i'll do something with it]

second dumbest thing is generally coming to hallownest. not a decision for an older bug with no real combat skills to make with their head in the right place

25. 3 things they’d want to take with them if they were dropped off in the middle of nowhere

a crowbar/pry-bar (hefty and practical), a wanderer's journal (reading material! ...and also has some heft), and a brush/comb for his beard because the last thing you want is tangles

31. If they had a tumblr what would it look like?

it would have one of the default boring black-on-white layouts that makes it look like a WordPress blog. his askbox would be permanently closed and his bio would say something about not wanting to be interacted with, but the proof is in the pudding (pages and pages of him arguing back and forth very rudely with other history enthusiasts). i also think he picks up a very complicated tagging system very quickly and it makes sense only to him.

mostly though, it'd be reblogs of museum photos and rebuttals about historical theories. occasionally he leaves likes on certain people's posts. he thinks no one can see your likes but he hasn't actually turned off that setting and has no idea everyone can see him exhibiting blatant favouritism, so if you scroll down his likes page it's 80% history, 15% posts by ghost about stuff they've found, and 5% younger bugs posting about history in ways that are completely incorrect (is he laughing at how dumb they are or is he appreciative of a budding interest in history? it can be both)

48. Scariest moment of their life

there have been a few! he's had a long one. a certain incident in his younger years, perhaps. after that, descending into the City of Tears for the first time and seeing the state it's in and how big it is and the shambling husks and spikes and everything else - realising how monumental this task will be and how one wrong move in a ruin like this could cost him everything, along with a haunting understanding that he is not getting any younger. scary stuff. let it never be said he backs down from a fight though

(in rp shenanigans he's also been pretty fuckin terrified by the Shadelord. ranks pretty high on the list. he didn't back down then either)

[ask meme]

#gmask #goodbyenorthernlights #ty for the asks!! will answer em over the course of the day i think

[fanfictionjumbler]

New Desktop Tumblr Layout Updates... again

Looks like the the general layout is a bit more space condensed, even though we still have that dreaded Twitter-esque sidebar instead of our good old loveable friend the top bar (space conservation didn't need fixing on top bar mode).

But alas we have lost our little funky square icon guys on the side.

This is how it is on an original post:

While it's like this on a reblog (with a bit of the space to the side showing to show that the big icon is nowhere in sight):

I mean, it's an interesting distinguishing between OGs and reblogs on the dash. You can still see the big icon in the post editor, where such a standing out indicator is very appreciated.

At the very least they didn't go full copycat off of another social media for this change, even though the big icon guy was still some of the original Tumblr charm.

Honestly, I think this whole layout conundrum should have been a Tumblr Labs before it was forcibly inflicted randomly out of the blue. (Whatever happened to that thing anyway, it's still there, just nothing really happens with it).

Do you think maybe they're making such random changes to deliberately mess with the people who are actively so upset with these revisions that they are making extensions to change things back? If it's deliberate, take the hint, Tumblr.

Also, I've been using a different computer while mine's out for repairs so I don't have some of my XKit settings but I can see this possibly messing up the Dashboard Painter color coding lines when I get back to it... woo... /s

(UPDATE: Just found out that the todayontumblr topic of the day is MINIMALISM, you knew what you were doing, you sly dogs...)

#tumblr desktop #tumblr #tumblr changes

[solradguy]

I have sent many asks to you before filled with honest yet corny-as-hell sentimental bullshit about how much your blog, and you by extension, means to me— even if we don’t even really know each other. But if this isn’t a better time to actually buckle down and give you a proper “thank you,” than I don’t know what is.

I found your blog a while back, sometime early last summer if I remember correctly, through your Guilty Gear scans. It was around the time I first started actively hunting down whatever remnants of a Guilty Gear fandom were scattered across the internet, and luckily I hit the jackpot with Tumblr (amongst other sites.) God bless whatever made you make this blog, cause the things it has done for me since then have been tremendous. From small things like your discussions about music and your random posts about vintage technology that inevitably prompt me to do deep-dives on the subject, or bigger things like your entire translation or scanning projects that open me to an entire new world of Guilty Gear media, your blog has taught me about so many new things that have molded me into the person I am today, and suffice to say, I’m proud of that person. You have introduced me to new singers, bands, books, movies, games, shows; so many goddamn things and the majority of them have turned out to be things I simply enamor. Beyond that, your art has helped me improve on my own art and has inspired me to make so much more work and work even harder. Plus, you also brought back my obsession with dragons! I used to be enthralled by dragons; collecting paintings, statues, plushies, books, you name it and I probably have it. And just to like them once more due to my exposure with the content you churn out (wether original or reblogged) is something I can also say I am grateful for. Even just ranting about personal interests in your asks or asking if you perhaps enjoy the same things that I do is something that makes me happy.

I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by saying this, but I seriously do see you as a sort of “big brother” figure in my life. It’s a parasocial relationship, sure, but I have found solitude and comfort in your blog, and even a sort of aspiration to be like you. Either way, the truth is your blog has helped me so much this year and has brought me so much more happiness than what I had before. You have seriously helped me become a better person, better in loving myself and finding something to love in the world around me as well.

So, thank you. Thank you for this blog and for everything you post on here. Thank you, and happy new years. I hope next year gives you nothing but unadulterated love. You deserve it.

Ok so, for an uncountable amount of times this has happened now, I typed a really lengthy reply to this and then cut a section of text to move it and Tumblr decided that meant "delete the whole post except the cut text and then close the post editor, deleting everything forever." It is 3:30am. I'm going to summarize what I wrote as I type it for the second time. The last two paragraphs are the only sections from the first draft that got saved.

--

First off, I apologize for taking so long to reply to this. Your message is extremely heartfelt and sincere and, when I got it (around noon), I wanted to think on it for a little and reread it a few times before replying.

I'm... not great... at accepting compliments. For a lot of my life I've been picked on for my physical appearance and interests so I learned how to take advantage of my size and how to project a pissed off aura to get people to leave me alone. It works very well. Online that doesn't work, and I wouldn't want it to, but offline I think I can be kind of a grumpy asshole. I try really hard to only appear to be that way. After making kids/babies cry just from being in the same space as them though, it can be difficult to think otherwise. I'm not used to people being this kind to me, let alone even admiring or looking up to me.

But the online format is nice; people just see me as an icon and if they don't like my posts/interests they can close the tab or filter it instead of making it my problem. Being able to talk about whatever on here and finding other people that also think it's interesting has helped me a lot too. Before getting into Guilty Gear around August 2021, this blog was mostly just an art reference blog with a very, very, small amount of personal posts scattered in-between when it was something I wanted to archive (like when I started HRT).

I started doing scans because I wanted to send a specific illustration to someone but could only find it in a low resolution. Since I had the GGX '07 art book and a scanner, I figured I might as well just scan it myself and it all sort of snowballed from there. The GG community has been incredibly motivating and I don't see myself quitting doing these scans/translations until there's nothing left to scanlate. Guilty Gear has done so much for me and I love the games and its setting probably more than any other series I've ever been into.

Know that I really, truly, appreciate you sending me this message. I have a little folder of nice messages like yours that I keep to look through on bad days. They genuinely mean a lot to me.

It's such an honor that the things I've posted about have inspired you and lead you to new interests, too, and I hope that I can keep motivating and inspiring you. 2023's gonna be a good year, I think, and I hope you get some of that unadulterated love too.

#asks #long post #I started typing my first reply at 1:30 and now it's 3:30 GOD I'm so mad Tumblr deleted my first draft............. #Next time I'm typing it in Notepad s2g #Anyway I'm sorry if any of this comes across as curt or if it's worded weirdly I'm falling asleep on my laptop hhhhhhhhhh

[etes-secrecy-post]

Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE! (W/ BIGGER TEXT!)⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

😡 WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT EVER LIKED & REBLOG MY SECRET POST! THIS IS FOR MY SECRET FRIENDS ONLY, NOT YOU! 😡

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

#Onthisday: Jul 8th, 2018

Title: Cuteness Member - Kin

Here's a Ori OC decided to join in because I need something a truly "Black" character and yet something quite "Mysterious" as my opinion and that's what I found Kin, and his chosen yet powerful armored "Strike Noir". Don't underestimate though, cause the armored "Strike Noir" has SO MANY tricks on his black armor's sleeve.

Strike Noir Kin Came from the real: GAT-X105E/AQM/E-X09S Strike Noir Gundam

Armament(s):

• M2M5 "Todesschrecken" 12.5mm Automatic CIWS Installed in the head of the Strike E are two 12.5 Automatic CIWS (Close-In Weapon System) vulcans. While not very effective at damaging the armor, they serve as point-defense weapons for destroying incoming missiles, enemy aircraft/fighters and other light-armored targets or to deter enemies from closing in.

• M8F-SB1 "Shorty" Beam Rifle While most armors feature a single handheld beam rifle, the Strike Noir is instead equipped with two small M8F-SB1 "Shorty" Beam Rifles. Despite their small size and a 15% decrease in effective combat range compared to standard rifles, these are powerful enough to destroy an enemy unit with a single shot. When not in use, they are mounted on the side skirt armor, where the combat knives were stored on the original Strike.

• MR-Q10 "Fragarach 3" Beam Blade Developed from the Gaia Gundam's MR-Q17X "Griffon 2" Beam Blade, it is a physical sword with a beam edge. While not as big as a normal Anti-Ship Sword, it can still do massive damage to the target. A pair of "Fragarach 3" beam blades are stored on the wings when not in use.

• MAU-M3E42 Twin Linear Gun Developed based on the reliable and cost-effective MAU-M3 Twin Linear Guns fielded by the Exus, the MAU-M3E42 model is configured for close combat, it has rapid-fire capability and consumes less energy. Strike Noir is equipped with a pair of twin linear guns mounted on the wings and they can swivel in various directions for a wide range of fire.

• 57mm High-energy Beam Rifle An optional beam rifle that Strike E can use. It is the same rifle as the one used by the Duel and has a longer range than the "Shorty" beam rifle. Strike Noir has been shown to carry a pair of them for certain missions.

• 175mm Grenade Launcher The beam rifle is fitted with an underslung single-shot grenade launcher, which can be loaded with a variety of grenades. The grenade fired is not very effective against large ships, but is an ideal mid-range anti-armor weapons.

Special Feature(s):

• Hardpoints for Striker Packs Because of its origin as a Strike E, the Strike Noir can mount Striker Packs. When the Strike Noir was heavily damaged and had to equip an other pack used.

• Power Extender A device that improves a armor suits energy storage capacity, allowing it to use its Phase Shift Armor for a longer duration than other armors.

• Variable Phase Shift Armor A new version of the Phase Shift armor used on the original Strike. Variable Phase Shift allows the MS to automatically alter the strength and by extension the power consumption of the PS Armor, depending on what combat configuration or situation that MS is in. As a result, the colors changes, but all these must be programmed beforehand. Strike E's VPS armor changes its colors according to the Striker Pack it is equipped with at the moment, but this only applies to the Noir Striker and Another Trial Striker Packs.

• EQS1358 & EQS1358T Rocket Anchor A more unique feature of the Strike E, one EQS1358 rocket anchor is mounted in each hand and foot, for a total of four rocket anchors. These anchors can be used for various purposes, such as for maneuvering or to grapple a unit and throw it over a short distance. The attached cable is coated with a special polymer that allows to adjust the physical properties (thickness, strength, etc.) of the cable upon firing. A variant of this, the EQS1358T, is mounted in the Noir Striker.

Kin (Ori OC) - owned by coolblackeagle10 (dA) Armor (Mobile Suit Gundam SEED C.E. 73 - Stargazer) - Gundam Series © Sunrise, Sotsu

[spaceinvadeeer]

didn't think i'd have to do this one day, but that was the last straw. please read the entirety of this post before interacting with it in any way.

for context, a day ago i stumbled on this post that was last reblogged by a mutual, whomst i decided to dm after reading all of it.

since the screenshots of our dm convo are very long, here's a link to what i sent and here's the response i got.

while i absolutely get why those people were upset about non-americans making ignorant takes on their country, i didn't understand why the need to lash out at europeans like we're all some kind of heartless monsters. i could at least understand if it were about things we are to be held accountable for, but as far as i'm aware all the arguments mentioned in this angry rant could also be said about americans. i dm'd that mutual to try and point out that the lashout was a bit unecessary and that it was just harmful to let out your anger on a specific group of people (regardless of who they are) you are not a part of. but since they decided to block me after replying instead of hearing me out like a grown-up, i'll have to address this publicly while of course keeping them anonymous.

so let's address this point by point...

1- i did not say that i never witnessed hate, nor that it'd never happen for whatever reason. i pretty much did say that i'm aware of the assholes out there making fun of horrible events. however, if you chose to focus on all the negativity instead of all the support non-americans are willing to give, then it's your problem not ours.

2- if you find it so outrageous and uncalled for that europeans speak about america and its citizens like they know everything... then don't you think it's fair that we also get pissed when americans post hateful rants about europe that hold no factual value? what do you, an american, know about europe? about its inhabitants? certainly not more than me, who pretty much was born and lives in western europe and sees fucktons of europeans everyday and know what the overall opinion is over here.

3- so your only examples of haters are to be found... in YouTube/TikTok comments? this is just lazy. i could also say that mean americans trash-talked the hell out of my country in comment sections, but i won't ever do it bc firstly, i have no way of knowing where commenters are actually from and i don't care enough to dwell on it, and secondly they could just be trolls waiting for someone to give them the attention they're seeking.

4- while i do 100% agree that whoever puts the blame on individuals for not being able to change their government is wrong bc it's much more complex than that, by saying "i bet that if i open any post about the current events there'll be nasty comments about americans" you are choosing to focus on the negative. because negativity is not all there is, but it seems like it's more convenient for you to turn a blind eye on all the positive messages so it fits your biased opinion.

5- the entire bit about how someone is not a good person if they refuse to help after being insulted for no valid reason makes me laugh. just think about it for a moment... would you personally be willing to support someone after they got angry at you for making gross generalizations, without seeing you as a person but rather as part of a "mass of brainless insensitive people"? if the way you already blocked me after i tried to have a calm discussion is any indication, i'd say no. you just wanted to feel like you had the last word, you do not care to tell me (and by extension, other non-americans) how they can help best nor do you care to hear me out. i guess my pov doesn't matter, so you shouldn't have to hear it...

6- "if it offends you, it likely struck a nerve" says the one who went off in the first place about how europeans are big bad insensitive meanies and the like. i do not stand hearing uneducated takes on my continent, and i do not stand being belittled based on bullcrap nonsense. i don't think this is a very european-exclusive thing though, and it's got nothing to do with white fragility or toxic masculinity either. it's simply called the wish to be respected as a human being.

7- "if they did genuinely care, they'd read up and educate themselves" then i strongly advise you to read and get educated about europe, because clearly your surface level of understanding is not even accurate. europe is not a monolith, no country is perfect, no country is heaven on earth, not all countries are as well off as others, heck not all countries are even at peace right now. but if you still think the united states are merely laughing stock for the rest of the world's amusement, then i would suggest you put your superiority complex away for a moment and take a look at a few (of many) non-americans voicing out their support for all afabs in america who are being discriminated against:

Laura Calu (French) Neil Gaiman (English) Georgia Tennant (English) Aksually (Estonian) Kurtis Conner (Canadian)

if you're an american reading this, know that i do not hate you. i will never assume the worst of you just based on your nationality; i will respect you as long as you show the same respect for me. all the crimes and tragedies taking place in the united states are not deserved, and it's certainly unfair that middle- and lower-class citizens have to suffer from a system that is fundamentally faulty and hard to change. however, if you're looking for an outlet for your anger and/or if you think i'm less valid than you for being upset when someone spreads unprompted takes about the place and system i live in without knowing shit about it, then you can go elsewhere.

#if you happen to find back who the other people are PLEASE DO NOT HARASS THEM. #i do not condone any form of harassment or threats no matter who they're directed at #i just wanted to speak up about something that bothered me- im not starting a witch hunt.

[sweettist]

I posted 159 times in 2022

That's 11 more posts than 2021!

45 posts created (28%)

114 posts reblogged (72%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@charmedhypno

@thickness-protection-program

@ellaenchanting

@ophelia-dk

@jukeboxemcsa

I tagged 142 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#hypnosis - 68 posts

#hypnokink - 66 posts

#hypno kink - 53 posts

#trance - 24 posts

#apple - 20 posts

#mind control - 16 posts

#anon - 16 posts

#ask - 14 posts

#hypnotist - 13 posts

#female hypnotist - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 46 characters

#this may be how my interest in omo got started

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Sleep Sex

As some of you know, one of my Calebs is also my boyfriend (we’ll have been together for 4 years in a few days).

Being Hypnofetishists, we both have secondary kinks for things like sleep sex and I have consent to do sexual things to him in his sleep.

Tonight, I walked into his dark room, found his arm with my hand, which led to his head.

I rubbed his forehead and he groaned at me slightly just before I tapped his forehead activating his drop trigger.

He dropped, barely awake in the first place.

Without saying a single word, I used more forehead taps along with arm drops to drop him deeper.

Once he was deeply entranced, still without saying a word, I had him stand and I slowly led him to my room.

I silently lubed us both up and had him use one hand on himself and one on me.

Again, without a word, I then had him fuck me while I started, and continued, to snap.

The first words I said to him were “good boy” after he came.

I brought him up and we aftercared before I sent him back off to bed.

The End

91 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

#4

As some of you know, I love board games. In fact, before Covid I ran an in-person Board Game Night once a month for 6 years.

I went to NEEHU this weekend and there was a designated Board Game room! I brought in 11 Board Games and Labeled them all “Property of Sweet”.

I went to NEEHU with Boyfriend Caleb and… because I like labeling my property, as seen in the above…

See the full post

98 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

#3

Helplessly Edged and Pegged

Hi there! I’m Sweet! waves excitedly And welcome to my tumblr! 

This is my eleventh Text Trance Post  

I’m a large, loud and loquacious librarian who loves to help people. And sometimes the only way to help my subby boys is to make them helplessly edge for me in order to teach them masturbation endurance. 

NOTE: In this tumblr, I will be referring to all my subby boys I play with as Caleb. A Caleb in one post may not be the Caleb in the previous post, or the next post either, but I will consistently be using the name Caleb to refer to all of them. All of my Calebs have access to their safewords, even while helplessly edging and being pegged.

Start of session: Hypnotic Language Warning

I’ve worked with this Caleb quite extensively and we have well established negotiations. 

“Alright, Caleb, what would you like to do this session?” I ask, settling into my chair with my freshly filled water bottle. 

“I was thinking of doing that idea I had a couple of days ago. The masturbation endurance training.” He’s looking away from the camera, and I assume he’s scrolling through our DM pins.

“Oh good. I was hoping you’d say that. I have plans for that. You have water, right?” He knows my water policy quite well but I still had to ask.

“Yes, Miss Sweet.” He raises a large purple mug and shows it to me before taking a sip. “I’m ready, Miss Sweet.”

“Anything you want to discuss beforehand?” I take a sip of my own water in preparation for a long trance.

“No, Miss Sweet. I love your ideas. I trust you.” He smiles at the camera. Oh, so handsome!

“Drop down.” I say and his eyes roll up in the back of his head even as his head drops to the back of his chair.

“Dropping deeper. Dropping further. Dropping… up.”

His eyes open and he raises his head, grinning at me.

“Very good. Down. Down. Drop down.” Again his eyes roll up and his head drops to the back of his chair.

“Up!” And his eyes blink open and he raises his head.

“Drop. Down. Down Drop. Up!” 

“Drop. Down. Down Drop. Up!” 

As he sinks this last time, his eyes flutter for just a bit longer than normal. A good sign. Now, I think he’s just slightly fractionated enough to continue.

“Drop. Drop. Drop. Down. Down. Down. Letting your mind drop and sink and sink and drop down.”

As I continue to say “drop” and “down”, his face slowly takes on that slack expression that tells me he’s deeply under.

“Now that you are deeply hypnotized…” I pause and give a single snap.

His body jolts as he moans out “I need to be hypnotized.”

“Very good. Now that you are deeply hypnotized, I wonder if you know what a collaborative fantasy is?”

His brows furrow slightly. “No, Miss Sweet.”

“We did one before, with the forest.” I gently remind him.

His brow clears and he gives a small nod. “Yes, Miss Sweet.”

“I’d like to do another one with you. If you’re okay with this?”

See the full post

116 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

#2

The joys of using one subject to hypnotize the other.

327 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

There’s something wonderful and amazing about brainwashing.

Taking an eager, willing, responsive subject and changing parts of them over time.

Seeing the changes. Enjoying their progress. Feeling their pleasure at knowing they are brainwashed.

For example, brainwashing a shy submissive boy into being an exhibitionist. Repeating, reinforcing, enhancing that brainwashing until the moment he’s able to edge the mere fact that he’s naked, exposed and being watched.

Or taking a latex doll whose nipples are already sensitive and brainwashing her until she reaches the point where she can orgasm just from playing with her nipples.

Or taking a submissive toy and brainwash them to associate lavender and arousal as the same exact word, same meaning. Lavender is lavender. Until the point where they are out somewhere and pass by someone with lavender perfume and immediately, instantly, become aroused.

Brainwashing. Changing. Enhancing.

Yes. There’s something wonderful and amazing about brainwashing.

852 notes - Posted February 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[listentothelittlebird]

I posted 2,668 times in 2022

That's 2,541 more posts than 2021!

55 posts created (2%)

2,613 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bubblegum-gf

@theawkwardvirgin

@sohotthateveryonedied

@todaysbird

@fanfictiongreenirises

I tagged 1,030 of my posts in 2022

#bird - 229 posts

#cat - 85 posts

#i really need a tagging system - 27 posts

#pokemon - 25 posts

#chibird - 21 posts

#hello tofu mutual - 16 posts

#atla - 15 posts

#fanfic writer problems - 14 posts

#i love em - 14 posts

#rtgame - 14 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#recently watched something that made me think along a similar vein to op because they didn’t show why exactly super couldn’t tell their fam

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Writing Masterpost

I guess I should make this before it gets out of hand

Most of my stories are on ao3! Things I post on tumblr are typically the draft versions of my ao3 stories

From Code Bat:

- Jason Dissociating  - Alternate Super Sons Meeting - Protect Our Own Jason POV - Hot Potato with a Bookmark - Sleepy Jason (Alternate How Are You?)  - Damian and Tim - Cass and Jason - The Original Draft - Superman Meets Bizarro - Alternate Out of the Shadows - Alternate Snapshots of Gotham - Alternate Collecting the Hints

From Gotham’s White Lotus:

- Dick and Airbending - Alternate Making A Splash - Alternate Burning Iceberg

Fairness Federation gets a special shoutout

Extra Scene from It’s a Small World universe

Tumblr Drabbles:

- It starts with Jason. - Rogues know who Batman is - “I’m sorry.”

27 notes - Posted January 6, 2022

#4

I found this youtube channel called Curious Archive and I’ve been going insane because like- speculative biology? Did you mean extensive worldbuilding that takes into account scientific reasoning like an overcomprehensive sci-fi book setting? Boi I wish I were as cool as the worlds being featured

28 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

#3

Sometimes you procrastinate life things by writing a fanfic series, and sometimes you procrastinate life things by procrastinating the fanfic series by opening up a new doc and writing an entirely separate fanfic idea

143 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

#2

It starts with Jason.

Jason, the original bookworm of the family, up late at night and reading on his bed. Or, well, trying to read.

Eventually, he growls and - carefully - slams the book shut, lifting it up but just stopping short of actually throwing it. He sighs.

“Can’t sleep?”

It’s Dick that finds him, leaning against his doorway with tired eyes that still burn with too much energy to truly go to bed.

“You know that moment,” Jason complains, squinting, “When you’ve been staring at words for so long, then you blink, and suddenly everything’s blurry?”

“Are you getting myopia?” Dick laughs as Jason’s expression, “It’s a real concern! But I get it. You have to rest your eyes when that happens.”

“But I can’t sleep,” Jason whines.

“Me neither,” Dick sighs, and smiles, “Hey, I have an idea.”

Dick plonks himself onto Jason’s bed, ignoring his vocal protests, and plucks the book out of his hand. “Where did you stop reading?” he asks, “I’ll read it to you.”

“Oh,” Jason blinks - Dick notes amusedly that he was still squinting and unsquinting his eyes, trying to pull blurry blobs back into focus, “Uh, the page on the left of the bookmark.”

Dick reads.

-

“You’re gonna spoil your eyes like that, Timmy.”

“I live on spite,” Tim deadpans, “If my eyes want to fail me too then so be it.”

Jason laughs as he collapses onto the couch beside him. Tim ignores him until he lifts the laptop up and out of his lap, into his own.

“What’re you even working on?” he asks, and huffs. “Hang on, wait, are you reading?”

“Why do you sound so surprised? Just because I don’t like the classics doesn’t mean I’ve given up on words.”

“Holy shit,” Jason continues, ignoring Tim as a grin spreads across his face, “Is this anime fanfic? Are you reading anime fanfic?”

Tim groans, and slumps against Jason’s shoulder. Jason tries to shove the bony part of his shoulder into Tim’s cheek, but Tim just bounces harmlessly, only leaning more weight on him when he was done moving. Jason huffs.

“I was trying to finish reading,” Tim muttered, “But my eyes refuse to work. So maybe I did already spoil my eyes. Maybe I didn’t. I’m in denial.”

“It’s probably just from staring at a screen for too long,” Jason muses. Then he shifts, getting more comfortable. Tim’s head is now firmly on Jason’s arm.

“C’mon, I’ll read it for you. Where’d you stop?”

214 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

good day to everyone who has three separate drafts for the same story plot concept idea thing, doing great besties

577 notes - Posted June 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I really need a tagging system #calling myself out but I also find these stats hilarious #Like man this year has been long and I don’t remember much of it