sorry for all the hashtags


I really like yansim, like REALLY, so I am doing an AU from this game…
Well it started as an entry for a drawing contest about magical girls and yandere simulator, at the end this was the outcome(? and I love it!

In resume Senpai is the actual magical girl who should save the female population of the school from the evil reincarnation of the envy with the power of ❤LOVE❤.

Tarõ is a M.G. called cupid, the idea came when I was playing an namesake visual novel: “Cupid” …. But it does not have anything to do with it in terms of story so I guess its kinda useless to mention it? Well at least the dress was inspired in the one that wear the protagonist at the end \(o3o)/.

Midori Gurinu is the mascot! Well kind of… She is like Mirmo from Mirmo sibang (or sybang… I dont know how to write it propperly) or the little things from shuugo chara, I rather compare her roll with Navy from TLOZ. Info-chan and Kaga Kusha are the same thing.

Ayano is the rival, I thougt that it was funny and kind of ironic that the girl who is in love with him is the one that want “her” dead.

In the other hand Budo is the sexy man- I mean, the classic partner in crime of the protagonist, in other words: the friendzoned guy, the video of the epic rap battles of academy trigger my imagination (MULTISHIPPER CHRIS A LA ORDEN!).

And that’s all, I writed a lot… Sorry for that, and as always:

Sorry for the bad english ^¬^u



I’ve redone this about sixteen times *takes large bite of cold eggs*

I’m in love with this Hannibal Trucker AU by @joanielspeak and had to do something. I’m not used to the facial hair but it gave me the urge to try my sloppy background crud too - pick your poison…cause I couldn’t…lol i hope i have not shamed your glorious blessing 


A Bedtime Story

hello, loves! i’ve had this idea in my head for a little while now, and i’ve finally been able to put the words to the page! i’m really happy with how this turned out, so i hope you enjoy! please let me know what you think!

huge thank you to the lovely @takemeawaytocamelot for being the best motivator and cheerleader ever, as well as my other tss ladies who are always the most supportive bunch. 🤗


-the eldest bairn, kait xxx

“Did you really think that I would swallow this… fairytale? Do you think I’m still five years old?”

It’s not a fairytale, Bree.

The door shut behind her with a sharp bang! that echoed throughout the house, reverberating off of the walls and causing the vanity to shake. Unperturbed with the state of the mirror or the trinkets that surrounded it, she stomped over to the bed and unceremoniously plopped down on it, grasping the hairbrush and angrily running it through her hair.

All of her life, she thought that she was someone else–countless times she had helped her father, spending hours upon hours looking through their genealogy chart in an attempt to trace their ancestry throughout Europe. He had played along, telling her about his grandparents and great-grandparents, all the way to the eldest ancestor that they knew of: a Captain of Dragoons, stationed in Scotland with a pristine record and high regards from the Crown for his service. Frank had always talked so highly of him, but whenever his name was mentioned, her mother would leave the room.

She realized that her mother never truly told her much about her own heritage, just about Uncle Lamb and her parents, but besides that…

I suppose she wanted to keep that under wraps, too, she thought, brushing the other side of her head.

A moment passed before she fully paused, looking down at the curling waves of her auburn hair. Her father didn’t have red hair–granted, neither did her mother. She remembered asking him once where her red hair came from, and he had just replied, “One of your relatives.”

One of my relatives. My father…?

She set the brush down on the bed, running her fingers through the soft strands. As much as she didn’t know right now, one thing was certain: Frank Randall was not her biological father, this Jamie Fraser–whoever he might be–is. However, that was the only straw she could grasp from the bunch that her mother gave her; she had lost Brianna as soon as she said Culloden.

How could one believe such a tale? Her father apparently did–the other one.

Jamie Fraser.

So many emotions were coursing through her veins, but the one of highest supply was frustration and anger. She felt betrayed by her mother, of whom she felt had lied to her all of her life, making her believe that Frank Randall was her biological father. And after a moment, anger seemed to triumph over all other emotions, and she flung herself off of the bed, pulling a bag off of the floor and stuffing as much into it as humanly possible. She needed to get out of there. Now.

After realizing that not everything was going to fit if she kept shoving everything into the small opening of the rucksack, she instead started emptying the contents onto the floor. She shook the bag harshly, taking her anger out on the innocent fabric pack, before she heard something plop unceremoniously onto the floor. At first, she didn’t recognize it, but after a moment’s pause, her racing pulse leveled.

It was a small, leather-bound notebook, no more than 5 inches in width, 6 in height. The book was about 100 pages thick, covered in both her mother’s and her own scrawled hand across the pages, alternating between different colors of ink.

A fairy-tale told to her by her mother in her youth.

A five-year-old Brianna Randall sits upright in bed, excitedly gripping the edges of her quilt as she waits for her mother to return home. At this point, they had their schedule down to a science: Claire would walk in the door, go straight to the eagerly-awaiting Brianna, and she would recount to her daughter the adventures told the night before.

Tonight, however, was different. Daddy had come home from the University with a beautiful leather-bound, handheld notebook. “Fill it with whatever your heart desires, little beauty,” he had said, and she took it to heart. She would fill it up, cover to cover, with her favorite story of all time.

Her heart began to race in excitement as she heard her mother’s voice coming from downstairs, the beats getting more frantic as she heard the footsteps getting closer and closer. When the door finally opened and the bright blue scrubs came into view, she jumped up and down in her bed.

“Mama, guess what I got from Daddy today!” She squealed, thrusting the notebook at her mother in excitement.

“Oh, Bree, how lovely!” She examined the book delicately before handing it back to her daughter. “What will you write in it?”

Bree giggled, “Silly Mama, our story!”

Instead of replying right away, she swallowed hard, turning herself away from her daughter and towards the window. Confused, Brianna ignored this strange behavior and went to her desk, pulling out a pen and holding it out to her mother. “Write, Mama?”

She cleared her throat once before turning back around, a smile forming on her lips. “Of course, love. Now, where did we leave off?”

“No, we have to start over!”

Smiling, Claire took the pen from her daughter’s tiny hand and balanced the book on her knee, starting to write. While she wrote, she had Bree read the words out loud to her.

Once upon a time, in a far away land, there lived a King and his fair Queen. The pair loved each other very much, and to prove that their love was eternal, the King took his wife away from the business of castle life to a remote village in the mountains. 

While there, they visited their subjects and attended to their duties, as Kings and Queens do, but one day, the Queen was separated from her King and fell through a portal to another world. Frightened and alone, the Queen ran for miles and miles to find her King, but couldn’t find her way back. Getting lost in the ever-thickening wood as she ran, she encountered the most fearsome dragon in all of the Worlds. Fortunately, however, she was rescued by a knight in shining silver armor and taken away to safety.

On the way to the castle, the Queen’s escort introduced himself as Sir James the Red, Knight of Lallybroch. The Queen introduced herself only as Christine, in fear that someone would recognize her.

For many months the Queen took refuge in the new castle, Leoch, becoming a guest of it’s King and making many friends among the subjects. One day, after a great Gathering was held, the Grand Duke requested she be present on a hunt, to which she agreed. While on the hunt, she became very close to Sir James, who promised to protect her from anything and everything she could encounter on the journey.

And as Sir James predicted, Christine came face-to-face with the monstrous dragon once more. With his fiery breath, he burned her repeatedly. But ever so true to his word, her Knight came to save her and, in order to protect her, offered his hand to her, which she accepted. The two of them became extremely close while continuing the hunt. She missed her King dearly, but was starting to accept her life with her red Knight in shining armor. 

Eventually, the Knight found out about her travels through time, and offered to take her back home. They traveled on horseback for days while the Queen figured out what her heart truly wanted. Her duty was to her King, but how could she leave her Knight, a man that she had grown to love more than life itself?

It all came down to a single choice. Sir James took her to the portal, where she had to make her final decision. Who did she want to be: Christine the Queen, or Christine, the Knight’s wife?

In the end, she chose Sir James. The pair went back to his home, to begin their happily ever after. That is, until the creature returned, this time to take him for retribution, and it was up to Lady Christine to be her Knight’s savior.

With the help of Sir James’ fellow knights, and a few cows, Lady Christine was able to save her knight in shining–

“Mama,” Bree, now an inquisitive eight-year-old, interrupted, looking at her mother in confusion. “What did the cows do?”

Claire laughed, caught off-guard by her question. “Well, Sir Marcus decided that it would be the easiest way to get Sir James out of the dragon’s keep, without drawing too much attention.”

Bree’s eyebrows creased together and her lips pursed outward. “But… wouldn’t a large group of cows draw attention to them, anyway?”

“Do you want me to continue or not?”

She nodded eagerly, leaning away from the headboard. 

Lady Christine was able to save her knight in shining armor, and together they traveled away to a distant land full of delectable foods, beautiful dresses, large parties, and lots of intrigue. But Sir James’ experiences with the monster left him scarred, emotionally and physically. She tried her best to help him, but nothing she did soothed his suffering. Eventually, their marriage began to crumble, and she feared she would lose her husband.

One night, she talked to him about it. He told her all of his heart, as one should in a marriage, and the patches seemed to be healed. However, when the evil creature returned for his just desserts, Sir James vowed that he would be the one to slay it. Afraid for her husband’s life, as well as the dragon’s, she begged him to leave it be. His grudge, however, would haunt him forever as he attempted to slay the beast, eventually doing so with all three of them seriously injured. Lady Claire saved Sir James once more, and, after losing their faith, the pair moved back to their country to be with their family. Fate, however, would not be on their side.

A war was rapidly approaching, and as much as they tried to stop it from coming, Sir James and Lady Christine were faced with no other choice. Pregnant with his child, he sent them back to her own time, where they could be safe in the protection of the King. 

“She never goes back to him?” Thirteen-year-old Bree inquires of her mother with her elbows on her knees and her hands resting beneath her chin.

Claire pauses, swallowing an invisible lump in her throat. “No, she doesn’t.”

“Why not? If she truly loves him, wouldn’t she want to be with him forever?”

“Of course she would.” She smiled softly, wrapping her arms around Bree’s shoulders. Leaning her head on top of her daughter’s, she asked, “Do you remember the battle, the one that they were all preparing for at the end of the story?”

Bree nodded, urging her to continue.

“Well, before they parted, Sir James promised m–Christine–” She cleared her throat. “He told Lady Christine that he would die on the battlefield, defending his country. And she took his word for it.”

“So, she didn’t even try to find him? Not even for the chance that they could be together again?”

Tears formed in Claire’s eyes, but Bree couldn’t see them. Instead of replying, she finished the story.

Lady Christine returned to her time and resumed her position as Queen. She was reunited with her King, and he promised that they would raise Sir James’ child together, as their own.

A few months later, a princess was born, and they named her Ellen, after Sir James’ mother. And together, the three of them lived a happy life, the child unaware of her true parentage.

Every once in awhile, however, the Queen would see her daughter’s red hair catch the light, and she would see her husband. Her red Knight. 

Her one and only love.

The End

Many men tend to ask me, “Why do you care about how you look?”

I don’t mean to offend you males but I don’t think you guys understand how hard it is to be a woman in this society. If you do understand, then props to you, but I’m asking you all to just listen to what I have to say. You guys believe that we women tend to overcomplicate everything, whether it applies to relationships, friendships, or appearances. This is extremely true but only because we have to care about how we look and how we handle situations. It’s very easy to say “be unique” or “dress the way you want to dress” but you don’t tend to fully understand how damn impossible that is. We have to wear clothes that show the right amount of skin but not too much otherwise we’re known as sluts, whores, ugly, or even fat. It doesn’t matter if this is completely false, those labels will stick with us no matter how hard we try to dispose of them. We wear makeup because our natural faces are considered hideous, and no matter how many times you say we’re beautiful the way we are, we feel as if we aren’t. It seems like women are in constant competition with each other trying to prove who can fit in the best or who’s the prettiest, and while there are millions of women who are supportive, deep inside, we’re just a bit jealous. I can’t even explain how many women strive for bigger boobs and butts because we’re looked down upon for not being “thick” enough. We’ve fought so damn hard for equality and we’re still waiting for that day but it’s become so impossible because you guys keep craving more than we can ever give! Do you see children these days? Little girls lean towards makeup to try to be pretty! Yeah, it’s kind of fun to dress up, but that’s no longer the case. It honestly feels like women were only created to please men and the thought of that makes me sick to my stomach. Year by year, the standards keep piling on and on and on. It’s become so hard to keep up. Every year, more women are starving themselves, cutting themselves, killing themselves! I am aware that you men suffer through the same problems as we do and I am aware that this is coming to be a bit sexist of me, but I’m just so tired of having men ask me why I care about my appearance. The definition of “slut” and “whore” used to be a woman who slept with countless men. It then shifted to a woman who showed “too much” skin, but now, the definition has turned into a woman who has made a mistake. Not even a mistake, I can’t even describe the definition. Women who fall for somebody’s partner are considered sluts. Women who just like a simple photo of someone’s partner are considered sluts. Women who wear too much makeup (more so at a young age) are considered sluts. Women who are wearing clothes that show cleavage are considered as sluts. Now, this does not apply to all women. It applies to women who aren’t popular or women who don’t “fit in”. Maybe this doesn’t apply everywhere, but it definitely applies to where I live. This isn’t really your fault… I guess this is just how the world works. Anytime you men see a beautiful woman, that’s all you really see. You don’t see the pain it took to achieve that kind of beauty. The hours it took to perfect the makeup, the hours it took to put together the outfit. We really have come a long way and I’m so proud of the women who no longer care about the calories they consume or how they look, but the amount of women who are affected by society’s standards vastly outweigh those who aren’t. I fear to see what standards come next and what our future daughters and granddaughters will have to endure. I’m praying that it will get easier, but I don’t think it ever will. So if you have read this far, remember what I said before you ask a woman why they care about how they look. It’s not because we want to, but because we have to. There are so many of other things that I did not mention, far more painful things, but this seems to be the most common one.

Like I said, this has come to be a bit sexist of me. I know that some men go through these hardships too. Maybe you guys have it just as bad. We all hide our fears of society and its standards. I fail to understand why we have created these complications for another. Aren’t you tired of living this way?

—  To all the men out there who ask us women, “Why do you care about how you look?”

quick limited palette+flower crown doodles✨

Why I Have To Meet Jack

You guys may well think I’m silly for writing this post, but I’m going to anyway. I have thoughts and I need to get them out. I’m a firm believer in writing down your emotions rather than bottling them up. 

Anyway. If you’re tired of my complaining about not meeting Jack, then I won’t blame you for scrolling away from this right away. Feel free, or you can carry on reading. But not only am I saying the obstacles that are in my way, I’m also writing exactly why meeting Jack matters so much to me. I’ve broken it down so hopefully it’s easier for you guys to read.

I know I’ve posted about this a billion times before, but I feel the need to do it again. I kind of stop thinking about it, and then something reminds me again. I see gifs from PAX, I read about people meeting him. I’m happy for everyone who does, but I’m reminded that it hasn’t happened to me and maybe never will. I feel selfish for thinking this, but I can’t help it.

Just wait, it will happen, I hear you say. But that’s easier said than done, for a number of reasons. If it was just as simple as being too young to go on my own or whatever, then yes, it would only be a matter of time. But it’s not.

First of all, I can’t afford to go to conventions (particularly so if they are in another country, and I’m yet to find one in the UK that Jack goes to). I currently don’t earn, and even when I do it won’t be much - musicians often don’t earn much at first, and I’m not making anything from YouTube “yet” (I hope I will but it may never take off for all I know. I can’t rely on it).

Then there’s my current mental state. Going to a convention would be difficult thanks to my wonderful social anxiety. Just the thought of the crowds, the people around me while travelling… And I imagine that travelling, and the convention itself, would take a lot of energy - possibly too much for my depression to handle. Maybe I could push through it to meet Jack, but I don’t know; would it be worth risking putting myself under too much pressure?

And that’s not all. Oh yes, there’s more. Getting to another country is difficult for me for another reason. I can’t do it by myself. Yes, I’m 21 years old and I don’t know how to go through an airport by myself. I feel stupid. Not just because I’ve never learnt how, but also I struggle with things like that. I always have. I’m particularly brilliant at getting lost. My anxiety loves it, not.

And there’s more. Since I’ve started watching Jack, I’ve been at university/college so I haven’t had the time to go away to conventions. Once I leave here in a couple of months time (*panics*), I will be focusing a lot on YouTube, and probably having to find a job (yawn). And until I find one and have money, I can’t go even if I have the time.

This may well sound like I’m making excuses, but honestly… I’m really not. I wouldn’t. This is something I need to do in my lifetime, it’s a dream of mine. Jack is my hero. I have no reason to make any excuses. These are all genuine barriers to one of my life goals. Obstacles that feel insurmountable. And it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart to think that I may never meet the person who began to turn my life around. It breaks my heart to think that I may never get to thank him in person for what he’s done. It breaks my heart to think that I may never be able to hug him. He feels like a long distance friend - or even family, if I can say that. Jack means the world to me. More than he’ll ever know - but if I meet him, I can get closer to expressing it than I can from here.

I have thoughts about what I would do if I did meet Jack. I already know that I will make a folder or something of stuff I’ve made for him (fanart, poems, etc) and I’ll give it to him. And, of course, I’ll give him the biggest hugs he’s ever had. I’ll do my best to let him know what he means to me. I’ll tell him about how he’s inspired me and that my YouTube channel is beginning to grow thanks to him giving me the courage to make more videos. I was anxious to go on camera, but he made me brave, and now I love it immensely and want to do it for as long as possible.

Jack is not just a YouTuber to me. He’s been a counsellor when I’ve needed advice and someone to care. Jack has been a friend when I’ve felt alone, believing in me even when I didn’t anymore. He’s been a beautiful green light in the pitch black void of depression and anxiety, the hope I needed when mine was all gone. 

He’s been like an annoying older brother who makes stupid jokes to make you laugh - which means even more to me as one of my older brothers, who made me laugh a lot, is no longer with us. He’s been someone to watch playing games now that I can’t watch my brother play them anymore.

He’s been a lullaby when I couldn’t sleep, cradling me with kindness and wrapping me up in smiles and laughter. He’s been a soothing voice amongst the painful noise of life. He’s held my hand when I’ve been hurting, wiping away the tears from my eyes. He’s started to heal the cracks in my heart and mind. When I was starting to lose sight of anything good in life, having less and less reasons to smile, he showed me that things weren’t so bad after all. He taught me to genuinely smile again.

And Jack is the reason why I found this wonderful community, and have made amazing friends who have made me feel cared about. You guys have made me feel less lonely despite the isolation of social anxiety and depression. Without Jack, I probably wouldn’t know any of you exist.

Jack is my hero.

I need to meet him some day.

I have to.

Because I miss his long hair and killer Jawline…

Yes yes I agree he carries any look well, but I still miss high cheekbones, jawline that cuts through your soul and hair I would certainly pull, forehead & those lucious lips with duck face…

@buckyboystan @stuckyfox @dani-si @dangerousvikings don’t you all miss it too?! 🤔😏🙄😢🙈😍❤️

💙⚡️I love this boy⚡️💙