#askdjdj

@witchertrashbag

You know what? You’re both so valid. Folk after my own heart, you are

Jaskier is a man who finds beauty everywhere, truly, but there is a way to present oneself, and the picture before him ticks every one of his cardinal sins of Tinder photos. The fluorescent lights of the locker room cast an unpleasant ambiance, the mirror (it’s a gym mirror selfie, for god’s sake) is so hazy he can barely make out the (admittedly impressive) definition on those (huge, just really fucking massive) arms. The face is conveniently absent from the photo—whether from intentional cropping or just a complete ineptitude at photography is anybody’s guess—but the few sweaty wisps of pale hair falling on his shoulders indicate the presence of a man bun.

And then he sees the bio. It’s only nine words, but he’s got to admit, they pack a punch.

emotionally unavailable but i eat ass so there’s that

“Just my type,” Jaskier groans as he emphatically swipes right.