But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve...

Things don't have to happen on the tumblr dash to be considered "canon" for your OCs/Muses--DMs/alternative social media interactions can also be valid

Introductory threads aren't MANDATORY

Timelines who??? More like who CARES, jump around if you want to

You can reclaim depictions of "Canon" characters that you don't like/agree with and make them your own

Headcanon whatever the hell you want

Embellish whatever you want

You are allowed to soft block/block people on your dash that just don't vibe with your style--it's YOUR dash, curate it how YOU want it to be

On the other side of that, don't take offense/take it personally if someone blocks you. That's their right just as much as it is yours.

(Yoinked this from LinkedIn, genuinely interested in seeing how responses align with demographics) (so far it’s those of us over 35 being indignant but I wanna see how those fully plays out) (it’s cultural and technological history/memory, bruh)

The misfortune of being well known off and on a battlefield is that other men hunger to see you fall. It is something he feels little anger about, having embraced it as the inevitable part of knighthood that is understood but rarely spoken outloud. He can't say he's impressed by what can only be described as a cowardly shot. Having a squire attempt to take a swipe at him just as he waas exiting the swordplay grounds was certainly not a choice he planned on casting aside.

But the jagged wound on his forearm has oozed blood ever since, and even if the foolish boy who'd given it to him had been threatened into leaving, the infamous "Death" knight still issued a request for a healer.

"We meet again."

He's seated alone, holding his arm over a basin where it drips blood with the steady pace of a tree that oozes sap once properly struck. He glances up, raising one brow momentarily at the familiar face, then turns to continue his focused staring at the wall.

"Didn't take you for a healer. Or are you just the last resort?"

It would not surprise him in the slightest to hear that others had refused.

The crowd gasped when the squire swiped and tore a gash in his arm. Some had cheered at seeing the dark knight bleed while others called foul. There were rules for a reason.

When he didn't return for the next round, Evelyn excused herself with a half hearted excuse and went to look for him.

He'd gone off to one side where other injured knight sat. A small handful of healers moved between the injured but no one approached him. His arm was still bleeding, even from where she stood she could tell it needed treatment. Picking up some clean linens and a pitcher of water, she approached.

"So we do, Sir Hoyt," she said, bravely addressing him by name. She found a small stool and sat, pushing up the sleeves of her brocade dress. "And I learned a few things when it comes to injuries. Mother insisted I learn and Father agreed."

He had just put in the second batch of cookies to bake, then leaned back against the counter as he continued to eat from the carton."First batch is done if'n ya wanna come grab one, tell me how they are?"

Tolaas grinned at his love as he watched her.

She kissed him on the cheek as she plucked a cookie from the plate he'd set them on. It was warm and gooey and she sighed happily as she bit into it.

"I was looking forward to it as well, but this is okay too," she said in a soft voice. "As long as we can hang out together, I'm good."

From the way he was mumbling, she knew he was falling asleep. It was likely the meds he'd taken along with coming down from the adrenaline rush. The exhaustion after a panic attack was one she knew well.

They’re absolute morons, your honour…

Eskel lied on his stomach, only wearing boxer briefs and pushing his face in the pillow. The panic attack had come out of nowhere, or so it seemed. He had noticed that his mood shifted, his pulse quickened and he had troubles forming thoughts that...made sense.

He had tried to hide it until he got up, started pacing and then just dropped on the bed, sobbing softly in the pillow, almost hyperventilating. Gladly he had medication and asked Annie for a glass of water. A short moment where he could feel the terror alone in the sleeping room until Annie came back with the glass of water and Eskel took his medication. Now he needed to wait. He would calm down. Eventually.

“I'm sorry, Annie. I know we had other plans and now I'm...” he sniffled. “...I don't know. My mom called it weak.”

She was just about to touch his arm when he jumped up and began to pace. The sound of his breathing was rapid and harsh and she recognized it immediately. He flopped back on the bed and reached for his meds, asking for a glass of water. She was quick to supply it and she watched as he drained the glass.

"It's okay, love," she replied. "We were just going to get out for a while. There were no real plans so there's nothing to reschedule."

She moved closer, reaching out to trace her fingers lightly over his back. He was decently muscular, he could easily turn heads.

‘Darling, messy is practically my default setting.’

Chaos was the only real predictability in a life that had spanned far too many centuries of human disasters. Lucien casually leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, running a thumb over the cuff of his jacket with a completely unbothered smirk. ( He’d watched entire civilizations tear themselves to absolute ribbons over minor misunderstandings, so a bit of local drama wasn’t even going to register as a blip on his radar. It was a tedious habit mortals had, treating every single complication like the literal end of the universe rather than just another standard Tuesday that required a bit of tactical cleanup. ) People always panicked right before the first domino fell, completely oblivious to the fact that survival was mostly about learning how to move through the wreckage without getting any blood on your tailored threads. He wasn’t in the mood to offer hollow reassurances or pretend they weren’t standing on the edge of a massive cliff, but the sheer predictability of the incoming disaster was mildly entertaining.

‘So unless you happen to have a spare change of clothes and a massive amount of patience, I’d suggest you buckle up.’

"Patience I have, a great deal in fact," she replied as she rose to her feet. Waiting was something she'd gotten quite good at in the hospital. Injuries take time to heal after all. "As for clothes...well I usually keep a spare set of scrubs in my locker at work."

Coming back has been the best thing he could've done. Now that he was reunited with Anne he saw very clearly what he wanted all along. Keeping these secrets hasn't been good for him. He had to come clean with his past and tell her what happened.

If he wanted to finally have a home, a real home, he had to be brave, just once.

Eskel kissed Annie's hair, then her temple. He was so close to taking her face in his hands, his giant gentle hands, and just kissing her. He wasn't ready to be this brave, yet.

He took her face in his hands and she looked up at him. She touched his cheek gently as she smiled at him.