Tried to post this yesterday it wouldn’t work 😭
Still only have the energy for some collaborative casual drawing sessions and one of my buddies asked for Gerry so here’s the design I came up with :)

Tried to post this yesterday it wouldn’t work 😭
Still only have the energy for some collaborative casual drawing sessions and one of my buddies asked for Gerry so here’s the design I came up with :)
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Buried, why do you want so much pressure around you? To mimic the embrace of another man?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Corruption. "You can be fully consumed by what loves you" what loves you? Other men?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Dark. Why do you want it to be dark? So no one can see you blush when pretty men talk to you?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Desolation. You like things that are hot? Well men can be hot
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the End. What do you want to end? The "are we /r flirting or /p flirting" you have with your friend? Who is also a man?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Eye. What do you want to see? Other men?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Flesh. This one just sounds like a euphemism for sex and straight people only have sex in TV shows
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Hunt. What are you hunting for? True love with another man?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Lonely. Why are you lonely? No men around to be gay with?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Slaughter. You're bound to end up covered in blood, why would you want that? Because other gay people find men covered in blood attractive?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Spiral. I mean, look at them.
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Stranger. Why do you feel like you're other? Because you've been othered by society for being gay?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Vast. What's so massive? Your love for men?
Kinda gay to be an avatar of the Web. What strings are you pulling? Strings that bring other men to you?
"whats so massive" my dick bro
the whole ao3 attack was over Les Mis fanfiction?! the barricade boys are haunting us from their graves fr
I've recently delved into the Witcher book series for the first time, and while I absolutely adore Jaskier and Geralt in the television adaptation, I must admit that their friendship reaches unparalleled heights in the books.
It's as if they both have this endearing perspective of each other, constantly thinking, "Behold this feral gremlin man I stumbled upon in the dumpster; I love him."
The genuine adoration between Dandelion and Geralt is an absolute delight to experience while reading. Their dynamic is filled with infectious joy and camaraderie, making it an incredibly enjoyable aspect of the story.
Just a reminder that:
jaskier grabs his lute when he goes outside to see what made the noise because it’s the closest thing to a weapon he has near him in the moment. so when he hands the lute to radovid, he’s giving up his only means of defense—literally, but also figuratively, as his songs and performative nature represent the mask that he also hides behind
I swear to g o d if radovid turns out to be manipulating jaskier and betrays him imma be real upset. Jaskier deserves to have a nice romance with someone who actually is into him
Ciri: What's that on your neck?
Jaskier: Huh? Oh, there was a mosquito.
Radovid emerges from the shed: Uh, morning everyone?
Yennefer: Good morning, mosquito.
Okay so why is no one talking about the fact that Joey Batey has mentioned in several interviews that he is writing a novel ? I mean … THE Joey batey who wrote The good man’s grace and the old witches sleep ? THE Joey batey who wrote Inkpot gods and all those other amazing lyrical masterpieces is writing a novel ? And I haven’t seen a single comment about this.
I am literally so excited for this.
that time shelley and byron made a macabre bet and it may or may not have cursed them for decades to come: a tale
at christmas dinner in 1821 byron and shelley were complaining about when they would inherit their estates — byron from his hated and estranged mother-in-law, shelley from his hated and estranged father. like the dramatic rich poets they were, byron made a bet with shelley of £1000 that his 70-year-old mother-in-law would die before shelley’s 68-year-old dad, and shelley readily accepted the bet convinced he would win.
by some stroke of fate, byron’s mother-in-law actually died almost exactly one month later. byron quickly inherited his part of the fortune but he refused to pay shelley, which everyone found annoying and awkward. especially since shelley had just given byron a fancy case of gold napoleonic medals for his birthday. byron was known for being charitable, especially with friends, so it isn’t clear why he refused to pay shelley but it’s possibly because he had been very drunk at the time whereas shelley had been very sober (as was usually the case when byron hosted dinner parties).
ANYWAY, to the point. to make things more morbid (because we’re talking about byron and the shelleys here), byron’s daughter died unexpectedly 3 months after his mother-in-law, and then shelley died less than 3 months after that in a wrecked boat named after byron’s poem don juan. its original name was ariel after shakespeare’s the tempest (a play about a boat wreck…) but byron renamed it don juan as a prank which pissed shelley off, probably partly because it’s considered bad luck to rename boats.
meanwhile, percy’s father (who he was so sure would die soon) outlived him by over 20 years, dying at age 91 (which was ancient back then). this was to the great annoyance of mary, her son, claire, and everyone else shelley had named in his will, who were all intently waiting to inherit the money from his dad, who prevented execution of the will due to being a general asshole and hating all of shelley’s friends. to heighten the irony, shelley had also left lord byron £2000 in his will (more than twice their bet) and named him an executor. however, byron died two years after shelley, so he did not live to inherit the money from shelley’s dad.
to heighten the irony further, one of the reasons that byron died of a fever in 1824 was (in his own words & speculation beforehand) because his immune system never fully recovered from an illness he got after swimming for over five hours at percy shelley’s funeral in 1822.
and if all this wasn’t insane enough…
as an aside: that last part may sound especially insensitive of byron, but he wasn’t the only one swimming at shelley’s funeral! it was a beach side funeral pyre (as shelley died in a boat wreck) on one of the hottest days of the year and all attendees were severely sunburnt, exhausted, & drunkenly delirious after being out multiple days in a row looking for the bodies, burning williams the day before, mourning, etc. - byron was also famously known for his swimming talent, but that day he went drastically overboard (no pun intended) likely from his emotional disturbance!