#and the other thing that’s 2 pages in is that snow is like hmm what if my cousin prostituted herself so we could have some cash (YIKES)

[millionsknives]

ok i just got the Salad of 🅱️ongbirds and Flakes from the library and i’m gonna try to slam it in two days and then get back to mockingjay. i will continue to tag related poasts with #thg-reread even though for this book it is not a reread

[alj4890]

The Getaway

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart One Shot

Day One of Tobias Carrick Appreciation Week : travel/leisure

A/N In my HC for this, Tobias and Chris are secretly dating (well before the events of the attack in Book 2) and are still getting to know each other. This goes along with the timeline of fics I used for last year's appreciation week 😉

Rated G for fluff

Masterlist

Tobias's home...

"And this was when my brothers and I decided to do a final boys trip before Hugh got married." Tobias pointed out his older brother lounging in a hammock with his younger brother, Phillip, sneaking up to tip him out.

Chris's smile grew as she continued to study the photographs of his many vacations with friends and family through the years. Ever since she'd shared pictures of her wild escapades throughout Europe with her cousins and friends, he'd eagerly pulled out his own album of favorite memories.

"Which one's been your favorite place to vacation?' she asked, flipping through pictures of snow skiing excursions and tropical beaches.

"Hmm." He scratched at his chin as he studied the photographs. "I'm not sure. They've all been pretty great."

He pointed out a few from when he was still in college. "Recognize that guy?"

Chris's eyes widened. "Is that Ethan?!"

Tobias chuckled while showing her more of their disastrous trip to New York. "It sure is."

Chris couldn't believe the tall, skinny, clean-shaven man with a mass of wild chestnut hair was the same man she worked with. He looked way too casual to be the one who insisted on nights at the opera and top shelf scotch.

"We got lost a lot." Tobias admitted. "I swore I knew my way around and I was too proud to tell Ethan I had no clue where we were really going."

He turned the page to show her an average hotel room overlooking a wooded area. "We ended up in Tarrytown instead of Times Square."

"How?" Chris asked with a giggle. "Isn't it far away?"

"It definitely isn't close." He winked at her. "We got in Ethan's car to explore more of the surrounding area and ended up driving over an hour north from the city." He explained. "The car broke down as soon as we realized where we were. It was going to take close to a week to repair. Ethan was leery of hopping on the train to get back to the city and ending up, in his own words, God knows where. So, instead of our original plans of bar hopping, we ended up doing nothing but historical tours of the old homes around there.

Chris burst out laughing. The thought of a young Tobias and Ethan forced to forget their plans of debauchery for a slice of American history caused her to laugh even harder.

Tears of mirth sparkled in her eyes when she handed the album back to Tobias.

"Your vacations sound very memorable."

He grinned and set the album to the side. Sliding his arm along the back of the sofa, he scooted a little closer to Chris. The thought of making some memories with her filled his mind.

"Hey?"

"Hmm?" She replied.

"Why don't we go somewhere?" He suggested. "For a couple of days."

"Me and you?" Chris asked.

"Is there someone else you'd like to bring along?" He countered.

"No!" Chris quickly exclaimed.

With their conflicting schedules, it was difficult enough as it was to make time to be together. The last thing she wanted was anyone else along on what could be a romantic getaway.

"I'd like it if it was just us." She added.

"Good." Tobias urged her closer for a kiss. "Because l think I want you all to myself."

"You think?" Chris teased.

He chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss against her cheek.

"I know." He murmured.

"You better." Chris slid into his lap to continue kissing him. "Where do you think we should go?"

Their mouths met in a heated exchange.

Tobias ran his hands along Chris's back. It struck him how tense she was. He could feel the knots in her muscles from hours of stress each day.

He began to think of places he could take her that would allow her not only a chance to relax, but also one that could be romantic for the two of them.

"I know just the place for us." He muttered between kisses.

Chris snuggled closer within his embrace then placed her head upon his chest. Her kiss swollen lips curved. She never doubted for a moment that Tobias would think of the perfect place.

"It's less than two hours away." He explained.

"And what is this destination?" She prodded.

"Ocean House in Rhode Island." He began to try to work the knots out of her shoulders. "They have a spa I think you'd enjoy."

Chris's eyes lit up with interest.

"When are we going?" She asked.

"Whenever you'd like." He told her. "The sooner the better."

Chris cocked an eyebrow. "Anxious, are we?"

"Very." He murmured against her ear.

His lips traced the delicate shell then traveled down her neck. His hands moved her curves, lingering on the places which made Chris move restlessly against him.

She arched into his caress, causing him to smile against her sensitive skin.

"Imagine," his deep voice captured her attention, "you and me. Alone. No interruptions. No worries about anything other than enjoying each other.

It was exactly what she'd been yearning for ever since the pair became a couple. Not only did she need a break from the stresses at Edenbrook, she needed a chance to fully indulge in this new relationship she had with the man who made her want to grow closer to him.

Just as the two began to give in to the passion that always simmered between them, Chris's pager went off.

She softly moaned in frustration all while scooting off his lap. Tobias ran his hands over his face in an attempt to calm his racing heart. His attention remained riveted on the young woman who actually made him long for many vacations where he could have her all to himself.

His lips curved softly as he thought of the memories he wanted to make with her. He wanted to see her at all his favorite spots. He could picture her bikini clad body stretched out on a beach. He would rub the suntan lotion along those long legs of hers. He then thought of snow skiing. Winter was still a good five months away, and yet, he couldn't wait to see her curled up beside him in front of a roaring fire. Given Chris's playful competitive side, he knew they would have a lot of fun racing each other down the slopes.

He'd never been one to plan for the long term with a significant other, but when it came to Chris, he couldn't help doing that very thing.

"I have to go." She told him after calling Edenbrook. "One of my patients has taken a turn for the worse."

Tobias followed her to his door. "Want me to drive you to the hospital?"

"That's okay." She gathered her things, smiling at him. "Depending on how long this takes, maybe you could pick me up."

"I don't care how late it gets." He snagged her hand, pulling her close for a kiss. "I want you to call so I can bring you back here."

"You do?" She felt a thrill go through her to hear he wanted to be with her as much as she did him.

He nodded, smirking at her. "Even if our planned dinner turns into a three in the morning event," he laced his fingers with hers, "I want whatever time I can get with you."

"I'll call you." She promised, wrapping her arms around his neck for one last kiss.

He felt her smile against his lips before pulling away. He watched her hurry off, waiting in the doorway until she disappeared around the corner. Tobias then went back inside to begin planning their getaway.

**************

Ocean House...

Chris marveled at all Tobias had planned for them. She'd somehow been able to trade shifts and such to be able to have a rare three days off in a row to be able to go away with him. She'd also done her best to convince Tobias to split the cost of their accomodations.

He'd refused, making her melt at his explanation that he'd planned dates each day and night, so she would have to indulge his need to pay for these special moments.

The moment they stepped into the White Caps Suite, she was struck speechless. Everything about the peaceful beauty of the rooms combined with views of the ocean began to relax her.

Tobias watched her explore their bedroom, bathroom (which caused her to squeal over the soaking tub), living room, and kitchen, before she eagerly went out to their own private garden. He felt his own joy grow in seeing how excited she became with each new discovery.

"Where does that go?" She pointed towards a path leading out of the garden.

"To the beach." He sat down on one of the lounge chairs.

Without any urging on his part, Chris joined him. She nestled her head on his shoulder, draped one arm across his waist, and took a long deep breath. She slowly released it, feeling all her stress begin to melt away.

"Comfortable?" He asked, placing a kiss against the top of her head.

"Very." She snuggled closer when his fingers began to drift up and down her back in soothing motions.

"I might never move if you keep that up." Chris teased him.

"I think you will once I tell you all that we have planned." He countered.

She lifted her head. "You only told me what type of clothes to pack. What exactly do you have planned for us?"

"Just a few things." He grinned at her. "I have a feeling you are going to be very happy with our itinerary."

After a few more moments of enjoying the sound of the waves crashing and being near one another, the couple went back inside to unpack.

Chris eyed his neatly packed suitcase in amusement. He had each article of clothing carefully folded and placed in such a way that no space had been wasted. All his toiletries were labeled and placed in a special clear bag.

She then looked at her own hodgepodge way of packing. She might have over packed, mostly because she knew she'd want to choose what to wear on their nights out at the last second. She had multiple swimsuits and different lingerie to make their time alone all the more special.

Her own toiletries were tossed in a separate suitcase along with all the last minute items she thought she might want like her medical journals and a few novels to read late at night.

"Hmm." Tobias began to mumble to himself.

Chris glanced up to see him going through a checklist of all he'd packed. He was even counting his socks to make certain he'd packed the number he had written on his list.

Smothering a giggle, she quickly put her clothes and all away. She found it kinda adorable that he put in so much effort into packing for a short trip.

The significance of the moment hit her as she returned to the living room. Though she'd been with Tobias for a couple of months now, this was the first time they'd be stuck together for longer than a night.

The intimacy they would share would be new. She would actually have a chance to see if what they had was mere sexual attraction or something deeper, more lasting. With how much effort he was putting into this getaway, she had a feeling she'd leave this place having fallen even harder for Tobias.

He interrupted her thoughts when he joined her in the living room.

"I have our itinerary." Tobias handed a piece paper over to Chris.

Her smile grew over what he'd written down. Other than a couple of dinner reservations and an appointment at the spa, everything else was listed as, Whatever Chris wants to do.

"Do you approve of our activities?" He asked.

"Almost." She searched for a pen and added a couple of other plans to the list.

His eyebrows raised when she handed it back to him. A slow, wicked smile formed on his lips.

"I see that, Thoroughly thank Tobias, is scheduled at the end of each evening."

Chris nodded. "It is one of the things I insist on doing."

"I'll make sure we stick to the schedule." He set the list down. "Feel free to begin thanking me whenever the mood strikes you." He wiggled his eyebrows. "I won't complain about the time change."

Chris giggled, draping her arms along his shoulders. "Are you sure you wouldn't mind? After all, you planned this trip for us."

"I won't mind at all. In fact," he crumbled up their schedule, tossing it over his shoulder, "we can forget about everything else."

His smile grew with Chris's laughter.

"I wouldn't mind keeping those dinner reservations." She mumbled against his lips.

"And I want you to have that massage." He murmured, kissing her deeply.

She hummed her agreement.

When they broke apart, she made a show of checking the time.

"Oops." She shook her head in mock disappointment. "We're already behind schedule."

"We are?" He looked down at his watch, thinking she was talking about their dinner plans.

She pulled him along to the bedroom. "It's past time you were thoroughly thanked."

She let out a yelp that turned into laughter when he picked her up fireman style to hurry them on to keep their planned activity.

[samstree]

Beneath the Winter Snow (1/2)

The care and keeping of one’s bard and winter garden. Jaskier falls ill. Geralt copes as best as he can. (sickfic, 3.8k ☆ AO3)

Winter arrives with a small cough that settles deep in Jaskier’s lungs.

“Oh, dear.” Jaskier rubs his chest, coughing a few times, breaths forming a white fog. “What is with me today?”

Temperature near the coast rarely drops so suddenly, but a cold gust has swept over the little fishing village along with freezing rain, catching them off guard. Frost covers the ground overnight, lining bare branches and fallen leaves with glistening silver.

Geralt tucks in the woolen scarf around Jaskier’s neck. “Perhaps you should go in,” he says. “I’ll finish in the garden.”

“Nonsense!” Jaskier pushes Geralt’s gloved hands away. “It’s our winter garden. I will not leave all the chores to you, darling, no matter how adorable you look when you give the plants little pep talks. The next frost won’t be long, and we haven’t planted the honeysuckles yet.”

Jaskier’s voice breaks with another wheezing sound. Geralt’s worry only grows. He frowns in dissatisfaction and pulls the fur-lined hood over Jaskier’s head.

“I know,” Geralt ignores Jaskier’s protest and presses his ears to keep them warm. “Just don’t want you to catch a cold.”

The crow’s feet at Jaskier’s temples are beautiful when his smiles, understanding shining in eyes as blue as the sea. Hair peppered with silver streaks sweeps across his forehead in the wind, and Geralt brushes the strands away, tucking them behind Jaskier’s ears.

“You take care of me too well. I won’t be catching anything,” Jaskier says coyly, his cheeks pink from both the winter chill and a blush. “Come on. I’ll do the honeysuckles and witch hazels. You can trim the hydrangeas for us.”

“Hmm, just…be careful with your knees.”

Geralt isn’t convinced by Jaskier’s reassurance, but they start the chores while there’s still daylight. The air smells like fresh rain as Jaskier plants the seeds in damp soil, humming an absent tune. Geralt trims the bare branches with half of his senses tuned into every subtle cough under Jaskier’s breath.

The sun barely sets before Geralt calls it a day, the few pots of witch hazels still not moved into the ground. Jaskier’s legs wobble as he stands, his hands resting on Geralt’s shoulders to steady himself.

“Alright?” Geralt checks carefully, studying the tiredness in Jaskier’s features.

“Mm-hmm.” Jaskier’s eyes crinkle. “Getting old, is all. The good days of me walking all day without complaints are long gone, dear witcher.”

“Without complaints?” Geralt gives a look. “Sure.”

Jaskier gasps in offense, starting to ramble about how he was the picture of suffering in stoic silence, but Geralt only ushers him indoors, shaking his head. The warm air of their home surrounds them, and they begin another evening routine.

Geralt helps Jaskier out of his garden gears from muscle memory, helping him out of the sturdy boots and thick coats. He then puts all the tools in the closet, before retrieving the blankets to put on Jaskier’s lap so he can relax in front of the fireplace in the soft armchair.

He almost thinks Jaskier has drifted off if not for the occasional coughs that bubble up in his throat. The harsh sound interrupts the quiet crackling of the fire, piercing the most vulnerable part of Geralt’s heart.

So he finds the book.

It’s a leather-bound notebook Geralt keeps solely for Jaskier’s health, recording all the medicine he takes, all the trips to the local healer, and all the herbs that fill up that cupboard in their living room. The book is half full already, with pieces of notes and remedies pressed between the pages.

Geralt checks the herbs they used last time—a small cold Jaskier caught in the spring that didn’t bother him for too long. He finds the turmeric, slippery elm, and ginger root in the cupboard, but the peppermint leaves have dried up along with a few other things. He writes down the list of things to be restocked on the next trip to the herbalist.

“You and that book,” Jaskier grumbles, stretching in the comfortable chair. “Stop worrying and come sit with me.”

Geralt simply bends down to kiss Jaskier’s hair, passing him. He has water to boil and a herbal tea to make.

“Any headache?” Geralt asks from the kitchen, not sure if he should use willow bark in the mix.

“Only from your fussing,” Jaskier whines.

Geralt chuckles as he puts away the willow bark and adds a generous scoop of honey. Gods know how long Jaskier will complain if the tea is too bitter.

When he brings the steaming mug of pungent herbal tea to the living room, Jaskier deflates visibly, lips curling into a pout from the unfairness of it all. “You know, no amount of honey hides the taste.

“I know,” Geralt answers in sympathy, “but it helps.”

Jaskier sighs, wrapping his hands around the mug. “Urgh, the things I do for you.”

Geralt sits on the rug by Jaskier’s feet as he sips slowly, grimacing the entire time. In the end, Jaskier chugs the last of it with a full-body shudder, wiping his mouth clean.

“Proud of you,” Geralt says, rubbing Jaskier’s thigh in encouragement.

“Of course you are. I’m the bravest bard to ever walk the continent. Brave enough to drink this vile liquid.” Jaskier puts the mug on the table, tugging at Geralt’s arms. “Just come here, you.”

Geralt joins him gladly, squeezing into the armchair. With a bit of shuffling, somehow Jaskier ends up on Geralt’s lap, his head tucked in the space under Geralt’s chin, the scent of mixed herbs still in his breath.

“Hmm,” Geralt hums softly. “Your knees okay? Not bothering you?”

“Yeah,” Jaskier whispers, kissing Geralt’s neck. “Yours?”

Geralt moves his bad knee slightly and feels no pain flaring up. The chores they did earlier were not nearly enough to exert his old injuries. He just wants to focus on his human bard who needs a lot more care and attention than a witcher.

“I’m fine,” Geralt says. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Too late. I have to.” Jaskier sags, burrowing into Geralt’s embrace. “I made you my problem a very long time ago, in a most horrid tavern at the edge of the world. You are the one who should want to run away from all of this. You didn’t sign up for taking care of an old human, after all.”

Jaskier takes to coughing again, so Geralt strokes between his shoulder blades.

It’s true that Geralt wouldn’t have chosen this life back then, in a dingy tavern where an annoying bard decided to follow him around the continent like a lost puppy. Had it been up to him, he’d never have grown to care for Jaskier or anyone after. Had it been up to him, he would still be walking the path alone with only the company of Roach. He’d not need to build a winter garden, or keep a collection of medicine, or have Jaskier here with him, in his arms, soothed by his presence.

It would be a living nightmare, compared to the dream that is his life right now.

“Don’t,” Geralt whispers as Jaskier catches his breath. “Don’t say that. I’d fight anyone who tries to take this away from me. You know it.”

“I just don’t want you to take on too much, darling. You’ve spent the past few years caring for me. All you do is scribble in that damn book. Don’t get me wrong, I love the attention.” Jaskier huffs. “But I want you to feel supported too, and I fear—well, I fear I won’t be able to do that for you. Not anymore.”

It’s ridiculous Jaskier still puts Geralt’s needs before his, but he does, and he will always want to.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it,” Geralt repeats, not sure how convincing he is. “Everything I need is right here.”

He just needs Jaskier to be alright. As long as Jaskier is healthy and safe, Geralt doesn’t think of much else.

They stay there like this, in front of the crackling fire on a winter night, with Jaskier warm and tired, resting against Geralt’s shoulder.

The cough won’t go away.

As the days shorten and the chill sets in, Jaskier spends more and more time hacking up a lung, and his energy drains with it. The bad days will leave him exhausted. Even a good day can quickly turn into a bad one with a mere gust of wind.

The night stretches forever near solstice. With daylight waning, Geralt takes up all the gardening to keep Jaskier from the cold. He is just checking on the hydrangeas blooms when the faint strumming of the lute comes from their bedroom window.

It’s been too long since Jaskier last sang.

The coughs leave Jaskier’s voice hoarse, the brightness in his songs diminished by the constant exertion, but his spirit remains. It’s a ballad, a love story, as it always is. Unlike those famous works from his youth singing about heartbreak, this song is about a love that matured over the years. This song sings of quiet mornings and hushed conversations, of secret jokes and companionship.

It’s about them.

Geralt stops to listen as the melody wraps deep around his heart, smoothing over all the tension in his body. He listens as the song comes to an end, fading with the warmth of trust and security.

A cough wrecks Jaskier’s voice. The lute drops to the ground, the strings clanging. Geralt is in the cottage within a few strides, running into their bedroom.

There Jaskier is, perched on the bed, body shaking from another coughing fit, the rattling in his lungs like an old ship.

“I’m—” Jaskier wheezes, trying to smile but only manages a pained grimace. “I’m fi—”

“Hey.” Geralt brings Jaskier into his arms, stroking his back with long, patient movement. “Hush now, don’t speak. It’s alright. Take your time.”

Jaskier ends up slumped against Geralt’s shoulder, clutching at his chest, coughing erratically. The sharp, acrid scent of pain grows as he wheezes. Geralt’s hands act on instinct, soothing, comforting, his lips pressed against Jaskier’s hair in reassurance. None of it seems to help. The coughs pass in time, draining all the strength in Jaskier’s body.

For a moment, he can only let Geralt support all his weight, all his energy focused on taking in one broken gasp after another.

The lute lies by their feet, silent and still.

Geralt feels every slight tremor under his palm. He keeps rubbing Jaskier’s back, knowing he cannot ease the pain underneath. He thinks of the book, of all the medicine in their cupboard.

“I’ll get you something.” Geralt starts to leave, but arms wrap around his waist, pulling him back.

“No, don’t go,” Jaskier croaks, eyes watering. “I’m really fine.”

When he tries to squeeze out a smile, a tear streams down his pale cheek. Geralt wipes it away with a thumb.

“Let me get something for your throat, at least,” Geralt says gently, coaxing Jaskier to release him. His arms are so weak it’ll only take the barest force to push him away, but Geralt can’t bring himself to do it. He hasn’t been able to do it for decades.

Jaskier shakes his head, resting against Geralt’s neck. “In a bit. There’s no rush.” He huffs a small smile against Geralt’s skin. “Did you hear me sing?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Geralt lowers his head to meet Jaskier’s eyes in sincerity. “It was beautiful.”

Jaskier nudges with an elbow. “Such high praise for you. You were the most difficult audience member to satisfy on this continent. Did you even realize? For my entire career, you were always so picky. Can’t be too inaccurate, can’t make you sound too heroic. Had I known dedicated love songs were the way to go, I’d have professed my love much earlier.”

Geralt softens. “It would have saved me a month after that sleeping curse, looking for your one true love.”

When Jaskier looks up, remembering that day, his eyes sparkle with fondness. “But it was you all along, the love of my life who saved me with a simple kiss.”

“Hmm. If only those could cure coughs.”

Geralt hugs Jaskier closer, feeling the thinning of his waist and the sharp edges of his ribs. Something in his chest aches at the overwhelming powerlessness that won’t leave him since winter began.

True love’s kiss saved them from a curse then, but it’s nothing against a fragile human’s mortality.

He hugs Jaskier more tightly, somehow.

“How are the flowers today?” Jaskier changes the subject, sensing Geralt’s melancholy, exhaustion already seeping deep into this voice. “You won’t let me stay outside, and now I miss them.”

Geralt keeps his voice soft. “The hydrangeas are fine. Growing better than last year. We should be able to sell soon.”

“Remember to save some for us. We haven’t kept flowers in the house in a while.”

Geralt hasn’t had the mind to decorate since Jaskier became sick, but he promises anyway. “Of course. The pink ones for your study, blue for our room.”

“The White Wolf has such a keen eye for colors. Who would have thought?” Jaskier teases. “Come on. Let’s stop moping. I haven’t been out of this room all day. Let me at least go out in the garden, lest the plants miss me too much.”

“You make fun of me, but I know you talk to them too.” Geralt raises an eyebrow.

“You rub off on me, dearest, especially when you are being a sweetheart. Plus, they do grow better when you give them some encouragement. I thought I’d try, that’s all. Once I started, it was hard to stop. They are such great listeners.”

“Like Roach.”

“Not as good as Roach, I’m afraid. She’s the best.”

With much dramaticism, Jaskier tries to stand but his legs are too weak. Geralt pulls him up gently, supporting him by the elbows.

Jaskier smiles tiredly, opening his mouth to say something, only to suppress a sudden cough.

It’s a big, violent one that seems to rumble against his chest. Pain flashes across blue eyes that were relaxed a moment ago. Color drains from Jaskier’s face, leaving his cheeks white as a sheet.

Geralt is alert in an instant.

“Jaskier?” All of his senses turn towards Jaskier and every shudder in his breaths. There is nothing outwardly wrong, but the bitter scent of pain spikes, mixed with overpowering fear and panic. Geralt’s hands move frantically, touching and checking everywhere, not sure how to help. “Talk to me, Jaskier. What is it? What’s wrong?”

Jaskier looks like he’s out of his body, confused and unresponsive, vacant eyes fixed on somewhere miles away. He sways, before bending over and coughing up a mouthful of blood.

The crimson color cuts sharply into Geralt’s vision, stark against the paleness of Jaskier’s face. The world rings in Geralt’s ears, a dulled background noise behind the heaving of Jaskier’s lungs.

“G’ralt—” Jaskier’s eyes are round with unbridled fear, much like that fateful day in Rinde all those years ago. All he blindly searches for is Geralt. “Geralt, I…”

Geralt catches his hand, just like that day. He catches Jaskier’s hand, the same fear echoed deep within his ribs, enveloping his heart.

“Jaskier? Jask—”

Jaskier coughs again, spitting out more blood. “Hurts,” he chokes hoarsely. “Geralt, it hurts so much—”

With that, he collapses against Geralt’s chest, legs giving out. His body is light, nearly weightless in Geralt’s arms, but they are brought to the ground anyway. Jaskier’s head lolls listlessly, face scrunched up in pain, but his hand still holds onto Geralt tightly. He holds on as if Geralt is the single most powerful anchor in a storm, as if Geralt alone can keep him afloat when another wave of coughs topples him over.

But all Geralt can do is hold on in return. All he can do is call out for Jaskier helplessly as he struggles to choke in one breath after another.

It’s painfully clear to Geralt what is happening—what he missed. An infection has set in as the cough progressed. He should have recognized this disease and its symptoms. Witchers never fall to human illnesses, but he’s witnessed how many have been taken by it in his century-long life. The white plague, consumption, the names are unimportant, but knowing the danger of it nearly leaves him paralyzed with fear.

There is no cure on the continent apart from magic. Geralt has never been more thankful for the xenovox Yennefer and Triss left for them. For emergencies, Yen said at the time, but the meaning behind the existence of the small box is clear. For when you can’t protect Jaskier. For when you fail him, for when you’ve put him on the brink of death again.

Geralt doesn’t let his voice waver when he calls for Yennefer’s name. He doesn’t fall apart when he describes Jaskier’s condition to Triss, who listens patiently and without judgment. His chest twists with panic when learning the sorceresses are being held up for another two days by local matters, but a cure will be ready before they arrive.

He doesn’t fall apart, because Jaskier needs him, now more than ever. He stays by Jaskier’s bedside and watches as he sleeps.

It’s just that Jaskier is too still when he sleeps.

For two days, Jaskier is confined to their bed, only making a noise when the coughs rattle his lungs. A fever flares up and refuses to come down, making him drowsy all day. When he’s lucid, he can’t keep anything down, throwing up all food and medicine.

There’s a smear of blood on Jaskier’s chin. Geralt wets a cloth to wipe it away. Sweat soaks through Jaskier’s hair, his skin scorching to the touch.

Geralt sits through another night, dabbing Jaskier’s forehead with a cool cloth with little effect. He answers to the incoherent mumbling from fever dreams, but his reassurance is never heard.

“Don’t…leave…” Jaskier’s eyes remain closed, tears streaming down his temples. “I’ll be better… worthy travel companion…”

It’s one of the worst nightmares. Geralt’s heart breaks into pieces as Jaskier calls for a past version of him, begging not to be left behind. He holds Jaskier’s hand near his heart and murmurs his love quietly until the dream passes.

Dawn breaks. Jaskier’s health book lays flat on the bedside table, useless.

Jaskier begins stirring with the sunrise, the shimmering light under the curtains interrupting his fitful rest, so Geralt leans down to press a kiss to his dry, pale lips. Blue eyes crack open. There is so much happiness in the small, tired smile on Jaskier’s face when the first thing he sees is Geralt.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Geralt whispers their private joke.

“Oh…” Despite everything, Jaskier plays along. “You saved me, my brave knight. Now I’m all yours.”

He tries to say more but the cough takes over, shaking his whole body. The violent sound rips through the heavy silence in their home. Phantom pain echoes between Geralt’s ribcage with every wheeze.

Geralt helps Jaskier sit against the pillows and claps his back gently. Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut, dizzy from the lack of air. Blood stains his lips, grotesque against the paleness of his skin. He coughs until he’s gagging, muscles spasming and trembling all over.

“Yen will be here soon,” Geralt repeats what he’s been saying for the past two days, stroking Jaskier’s hair. “Triss too. They heard my message as soon as I sent it. It’s just something holding them up. They’ll be here.”

Jaskier breathes, and breathes, shivering against the pillows. He takes a sip of water from the cup in Geralt’s hand, and pushes it away, scared of it turning his stomach. “Just need—” he rasps, “just need you.”

“I’m right here.”

Their home smells of pain.

“Just you… No one else.”

Geralt looks away from all the love in Jaskier’s eyes, his trust unwavering. He finds shame and guilt weighing on his breastbone, overpowering and inescapable.

This is all his fault.

“I don’t know what to do, Jaskier.” Geralt wipes the sweat from Jaskier’s brow, patiently explaining. “You are sick, and I can’t make it better.”

Jaskier shakes his head in disapproval. “You make everything better.”

“Not right now,” Geralt nearly huffs. “I’m doing everything I can, but nothing is better.”

Jaskier gives a long, poignant look. His eyes dim in the way that says he’s seeing right through Geralt and finding the most guilt-ridden and self-deprecating part of his soul. It’s the same unhappy look Jaskier gives when he’s ready to give Geralt a lecture about thinking badly about himself.

Jaskier doesn’t give the lecture.

“Have you slept?” he asks instead.

Geralt blinks in surprise. “I don’t need to.”

“Not an answer.” Jaskier sighs, shifting on the bed. There’s so little strength in his body all he manages is lifting the cover by a corner. Even the small movement leaves him breathless, and Jaskier pauses with nearly every word. “You haven’t—haven’t slept for two days. You look awful, dear.”

“I don’t need much sleep. You should rest—”

“Please?” Jaskier rubs his chest pitifully, looking up at Geralt through his lashes. “I feel better when you are next to me.”

It’s a trick, an old one Jaskier uses to make Geralt take care of his own needs. It’s been working since Geralt found himself incapable of saying no to a cheeky bard who wouldn’t stop following him, and it works now, when Jaskier is sick and miserable and all he asks for is Geralt’s presence.

Geralt slips under the cover, curling around Jaskier’s too-warm body.

“I need to bring your temperature down,” he says, mind still alert.

“Shh…” Jaskier only hushes him, humming a contented sound. “Don’t worry too much. You’ll end up with wrinkles like me.”

The crow’s feet at the corners of Jaskier’s eyes bloom beautifully, and Geralt brushes away grey hair to see them. He feels his eyes crinkle in return.

“Sleep,” Geralt whispers. “You need rest. I’ll wake you later.”

Jaskier blinks slowly, exhaustion pulling his eyelids, but he frowns at Geralt. “You sleep too.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Am not.”

Geralt watches as Jaskier drifts off, knitted brows relaxing gradually. He listens to the subtle scratches in Jaskier’s lungs, the fluttering beats of his heart. They are lucky enough that the coughs don’t act up in Jaskier’s sleep.

But Jaskier is too still when he sleeps, too still that, for a moment or two, it looks like the nearly imperceptible rise and fall of his chest have stopped.

Geralt’s breath catches. He blinks, shaking away the false sight in front of his eyes. He stays awake after that, counting Jaskier’s labored breaths, one after another.

It’s the only thing keeping him sane until the familiar sound of a portal appears comes from their living room, Yen’s magic humming in the air.

[up-in-space-reading]

Average Weekly Screentime - Chap 9: It's Snowing

pairing: Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago

word count: 3458

warnings/tags: college au, texting, drunk texting, text fic (mostly, there's prose a few chaps in), bets, bisexual!jake peralta, jake peralta has adhd, parties, drinking and alcohol, sexual references, implied sexual content (nothing explicit, just suggested its going to happen/has happened), friends to lovers, swearing, mentions of cannibalism, lighthearted threats of violence (typical rosa stuff yk), fluff

read on ao3

Average Weekly Screentime masterlist

Story Summary: texting fic college AU with the squad! It's the beginning of the school year and while everyone else thinks it'll be the same as the previous year, Gina has a feeling things are going to be different and wagers a bet with Rosa and Charles. Told through all the various group chats everyone is in.

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | Chap 6 | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10

authors note: N/A

Unnamed Chat

[10:30am, Monday]

Jake: hey ter what do u do when ur scared

Terry: Um.. Terry: I don’t know if I’m qualified to give advice about this

Jake: idk if i can ask amy out

Terry: Ah, right. Now this I’m more qualified for Terry: If you think that taking a risk this big comes with not being scared at all then I’ve got bad news for you man

Jake: shit.. for real?

Terry: Real Terry: If you try and plan too much or overthink then you’re gonna psych yourself out Terry: Just ask her when you’ve got a moment alone

Jake: we just had a class together alone and then walked to the next class together alone.. Jake: and i still couldnt do it

Terry: Give yourself a pep talk right before you hang out and when you’re all pumped just go for it

Jake: hmm okay Jake: i can try

Terry: I don’t know what else to tell you, this isn’t a dip your toe in and check the water kind of situation

Jake: ur right ur right

Terry: Best of luck, it’ll be fine

Jake: thanks ter

Terry: And if it all goes wrong then you can listen to Taylor Swift and cry ;)

Jake: im gonna kill gina

-

He’d already spent all weekend making himself feel guilty that he hadn’t asked her out yet, and his determination was waning each day that passed. All of Saturday he kept thinking how he should’ve asked her on Friday, and how he should ask her today instead. Then when Sunday rolled around he kicked himself for not asking on Saturday, and over again by the time Monday came around.

The excuse he made was that he didn’t see Amy in person on the weekend, so how was he supposed to ask? He couldn’t text her, he was a gentleman and wouldn’t do Amy the dishonour of asking her out via text.

Sunday night he tried to hype himself up that he’d ask on Monday, then he saw Amy on Monday morning for their classes that day and once again the cowardice took over. They had come so far since their toleration of each other a year ago, Jake was so scared to ruin it all.

The two of them sat in their classes, Amy took diligent and detailed notes as per usual while Jake tried to keep up with her. But he couldn’t stop the smile creeping across his face knowing that Amy would automatically make a copy of her notes to give to him, and how he found hers to be less confusing than his own disjointed notes.

Everything was colour coordinated between topics and headings and classes, she would use the copier in the library so Jake had the pages too, she even started sending him the ones she typed up. He had mentioned once that he felt bad, like she was doing all the work and he just benefited from it.

“Notes are nothing, you have to actually complete all the assignments I’m just giving you the information told to us written down. Besides, I like doing it” was how she had responded matter-of-factly, as if it wasn’t the biggest thing in the world that she went out of her way to help him.

How he probably would need to repeat classes and would be stressed from head to toe if it hadn’t been for her just giving him notes. But the pages also felt like parts of her, her handwriting and always correct grammar. The colours of her specific highlighter set which Jake would borrow to colour in the pictures he drew in the corner of his copies when he was bored.

She had woven herself so easily into his life and Jake was in no way eager to untangle himself.

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[03:26pm, Monday]

Cameron: Phone break over Cameron: Back to the essay plan

Ferris: 5 more mins???

Cameron: You’ll feel bad about yourself if you don’t do it

Ferris: uuggghhh ur right

Cameron: I know I am, now look up from your phone and talk to me like a normal person

Ferris: u got it

-

“When was the last time you ate?” Amy asked seemingly out of nowhere when Jake had put his phone down.

“Uh I don’t know, like one-ish” Jake answered, confused.

“Have this” Amy reached into her bag and pulled out a granola bar, handing it to Jake.

He held it and just stared at it, unable to form words at the gesture.

“You focus better when you’re not hungry” She answered his unasked question while returning to her studying.

“Thanks” He said quietly, opening the bar and eating it.

He ate the granola bar and mused on the metaphorical weight of it. She had it in her bag just for him, he knows that because she doesn’t like this brand (he had to listen to the five minute long rant about it) so she had it just for him. She knew what helps him focus, although now his mind was transfixed on a damn granola bar so much he barely had room for essay plans.

Finally, after at least 20 minutes of mild crisis and definite overthinking he’d hyped himself up, Amy wouldn’t have brought a granola bar for nothing and she wouldn’t copy all her notes for nothing, and she wouldn’t help him for nothing.

She wouldn’t spend nearly five hours with him on a Thursday evening while they had dinner together and laughed and told stories for nothing. She didn’t even suggest inviting their friends to dinner.

Jake cleared his throat.

“Hey Ames, can I ask you something?” He tried to mask the nervousness in his voice.

“Yeah sure” She didn’t look up from her book but her pen did notably stop moving.

“I was just wondering if-“

He was cut off by the sound of a phone vibrating against the table, Amy’s screen lighting up with the contact name ‘Mom’. She quickly pressed a button to stop the vibrating and let the call go to voicemail.

“Sorry about that, go on” She said hurriedly, now looking at him directly.

“Um I was just gonna ask-“

Her phone started vibrating again, same contact name and Amy groaned in frustration this time.

“Sorry I’ve gotta take it, she’ll just call again if I don’t” She was holding her phone, annoyance written all over her face at having to take the call.

“That’s fine, go ahead” He smiled at her, not quite reaching his eyes, “tell her I said hi” He joked, making her laugh lightly before she got up and walked off to go outside, answering the call on her way out of the library.

Jake sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, he rubbed a hand over his face and groaned in frustration probably a bit too loudly for library etiquette. The confidence was gone, when she got back he was going to brush it off and move on.

So much for psyching himself up over a damn granola bar.

-

Jimmy Jabbers

[08:10am, Tuesday]

Pineapples: good morning sluts

Queen G: whats got u in such a good mood

Pineapples: idk just feel like today is gonna be good

Mr Grapes: Love that energy! Today IS going to be a good day

Four Eyes: Good morning!

RoRo: i am not on board with this energy

Queen G: yeah idk about this

Pineapples: u two are no fun

RoRo: good

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[08:55am, Tuesday]

Ferris: i hate to do this to u but im gonna be late to class

Cameron: Seriously?? Why??

Ferris: thought i had time to go get coffee but the coffee shop did not have time for me

Cameron: Fine, I’ll let the professor know

-

[09:10am, Tuesday]

Cameron: You can’t show up to class late bringing coffee for both of us!

Ferris: but i did and u cant do anything about it Ferris: and i havent gotten a thank u yet

Cameron: …Thank you Jake

Ferris: ur welcome! Ferris: now stop texting me ur distracting me

Cameron: Oh my god

-

She was embarrassed he had walked into class late, sat down next to her and handed her a cup of coffee in front of the whole class and professor. Amy didn’t want that kind of attention on her during class, the only attention she wanted was when answering a question correctly.

But she couldn’t stay mad for long, he had bought coffee for her too without her even asking. The coffee wasn’t the only thing warming her up on what was a severely cold morning, her heart over the moon at his thoughtfulness.

Jake wouldn’t have just bought her a coffee for no reason, right?

The lesson continued on and Amy was thankful for the distraction, getting to focus completely on her notes and the work assigned instead of Jake. Although, he was always there even if she didn’t realise it – the smell of his cologne mixed with coffee on his breath, his foot almost touching hers as they sat next to each other and the occasional bouncing of his leg which caught her eye.

They walked out of class together and as Jake told her about the coffee shop situation, she decided that today was the day she asked him out. She had to do it before she lost her nerve or was left alone long enough to over think and talk herself out of it.

She swore she was going to do it, they walked all the way to Amy’s next class together. He had just followed her there, despite not having the next class together. There was finally a break in the conversation.

“Uh Jake?” She tentatively approached.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to know-“

His phone pinged with a notification, and she just about wanted to destroy every phone in existence.

“Sorry just a sec”

“No problem”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen quickly, eyes going wide as he began swearing under his breath.

“Shit, I’m late” He shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked back up at Amy, not noticing the way her next class were filing into the classroom, “What were you saying?”

He asked her to continue, and Amy wanted to so badly but he was late and she was nearing to be late. The moment had gone and she’d lost her steam.

“Don’t worry about it, get to class” She shook her head and smiled, trying to play nonchalant and being thankful that Jake didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, see ya”

Amy said goodbye back as Jake started to rush away towards his next class, once his back had turned she deflated and sighed before walking into her next class. Once again, grateful for a distraction from Jake.

To make Amy’s luck even worse, her and Jake didn’t get a moment alone for the rest of the day. Charles joined them to study and then he and Jake had dinner together – Amy was invited, but after the failed attempt earlier that day she wasn’t in the mood to socialise.

That evening instead of studying she spent her night getting lost in a book, a romance one where she childishly pictures her and Jake in the positions of the main characters. She goes to sleep hoping tomorrow she’ll have the courage to ask him- tell him how much she wants to be with him.

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[08:35am, Wednesday]

Ferris: hey uh will u have a spare minute at all today? Ferris: i know we dont usually study today but yeah

Cameron: Um I’m not sure, I have a few classes and then I’m having a meeting with one of my teachers

Ferris: meeting??

Cameron: I wanted to discuss some of the syllabus for this semester and this is the first chance she’s been able to fit me in since we got back from holidays

Ferris: ah ok fair enough

Cameron: Why do you need a minute? Is something wrong?

Ferris: no nothings wrong i was just wondering :)

Cameron: Okay, have a good day!

Ferris: i will try

-

As it turns out, Amy didn’t have a spare minute all day.

Jake was fidgety all day, he had woken up and decided once again that today was the day he was going to ask her out – but he’d thought that for the past two days and so far hadn’t been successful so the hope was dwindling.

He ran into Gina at the coffee shop who said he probably didn’t need any more caffeine judging by how nervous he looked.

“What do you mean?” He asked with an offended look on his face.

“You have the same look on your face when we’re in line for a rollercoaster” She had responded.

“How do you even remember information like that?”

He order was called out and Gina waited until he was standing next to her to answer.

“Because I’m a good friend and you always look so scared before a rollercoaster it’s a bit funny” She smiled deviously upon saying her last point, “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

Gina’s order was called before he could answer and when she had picked it up she dragged him to sit down at a table together, Jake has resigned himself to the notion that he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“So spill, you never keep secrets from me” She punctuated her sentence with a sip of her drink.

“I know but I dunno if I wanna tell you this one… yet” He fidgeted with his cup on the table, not being able to hold eye contact with Gina for too long.

“Alright fine. It’s nothing bad, is it?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No it’s not bad, it’s actually pretty good but I’m just feeling… a lot” He had trailed off, unable to find a better word for the tornado of thoughts and emotions he felt on a daily basis.

“Well I’m here whenever you need” There was a few moments of silence between them as Jake gave Gina a smile that showed he understood her.

“Now that the gross stuff is out of the way I gotta tell you about my date on the weekend”

“I don’t know why you dragged yourself into Sasha’s business but I need to hear all about it-“

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[05:25pm, Wednesday]

Ferris: hope ur day hasnt been too hectic :)

Cameron: It kind of has unfortunately Cameron: Sorry for not being able to chat more

Ferris: thats okay

-

He was lying on his bed and wondering what to do, he hadn’t seen her all day or spoken to her much and it made him miss her. Finally, he was fed up with being scared, Jake gave himself a pep talk.

You’re gonna tell her and it’s gonna be fine. If she doesn’t like you back then that’s okay, you will just pretend it never happened. If she does like you back then… we’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. You are not a coward, you aren’t your father, you can ask out the girl you like. It’s not even that big of a deal- except that it kind of is- but it isn’t so its fine. You can do this Jake Peralta, don’t be a coward.

A newfound excitement surges through his body and without much further thought he’s slipping his shoes on and leaving his dorm in a rush. He all but runs through the building to get outside, hoping the frosty air will cool him down a little as adrenaline pumps through his veins.

He exits the building and the first thing he notices when he gets outside is that it’s snowing, lightly falling and probably getting caught in his hair. He pays it no mind as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and begins typing furiously, not bothering to look where he’s going – he knows the way to Amy’s dorm like the back of his hand.

-

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[06:23pm, Wednesday]

Ferris: r u in ur dorm? Ferris: can i come over? Ferris: draft message: plea

-

He wasn’t able to finish his frantic messages as he bumped into someone also walking down the path looking at their phone. Without thinking Jake’s arms go to steady the person he bumped into, ready to apologize profusely and keep speed walking to Amy’s dorm.

Upon looking up at the person who’s shoulders he now had a hold on he realised he’d bumped right into Amy. Her nose and cheeks were red from the cold, a scarf wrapped around her neck and Jake noticed how pretty the snow looked as it fell into her hair.

She instinctively reached out for him to steady herself, her hands settling on his biceps and Jake felt like his skin was on fire despite the harsh cold. Amy breathlessly said his name as they stood there holding onto each other and not moving.

“Where were you-“

“What are you-“

They had both started speaking at the same time and then stopped to laugh at the mistake.

“I was on my way to your dorm” Amy spoke first.

“I was going to your dorm” Jake responded in slight disbelief.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise at his explanation, and her lips were slightly parted as if about to say something but not knowing what.

“Why?”

That was the response she had finally settled on and Jake swore there was a look of hope in her eyes, her hands holding onto his arms just a little bit tighter. He knew it was now or never, and how could he lie to her any longer. Amy was all he wanted.

“I was coming to see you, to ask you on a date, and- if you’d be interested- ask if I could be your boyfriend”

It was rushed and frantic sounding, but Jake smiled the whole time because it was finally happening and as he said it Amy’s face didn’t turn into one of disgust but something softer – one of relief and joy.

“That’s a bit of a coincidence then” She joked, earning a laugh from the both of them.

“Oh” was all Jake could manage in that moment, trying to process how Amy was on her way to ask him out.

He immediately felt so silly for all the hesitation and trepidation he had been feeling, he was scared for nothing. Amy liked him back, Amy had been rushing to ask him the same question he wanted to ask her. He wasn’t being rejected.

“Well in that case-“ He was able to speak now that his brain had caught up, and pretended to kneel down, Amy still holding onto him.

“Don’t you dare kneel” She scalded him, but there was no bite or malice behind it as the smile spread across her face gave her away.

Jake laughed and stood again, using his hold on her shoulders to bring her closer and carefully sliding his hands down to her waist.

“Amy Santiago, will you do me the pleasure of being my girlfriend and going on at least one date with me” He looked into her eyes, trying to stop tears of joy welling up in his.

“Jake Peralta, I would love for you to be my boyfriend, and I will happily go on a million dates with you”

They both laughed again as Jake brought his forehead towards Amy’s, touching lightly with their noses so close he could feel the heat coming off her. He didn’t know why they were laughing, nothing particularly funny had happened but he supposed this is what it’s like to be so happy you don’t know what else to do.

But he knew what else he wanted to do.

“Can I kiss you now?” He asked quietly, so only she could hear.

“Please” Her response was immediate, no hesitation and Jake could only guess she had been waiting a while for this moment.

He leaned in and pressed their lips together, and it was everything Jake had imagined it to be. Her lips were soft and she tasted like how her lip balm smelled. Amy’s arms moved to wrap around Jake’s neck as she fully leaned into him, while his wrapped around her back to hold her even closer.

Jake could feel her smiling into the kiss and couldn’t help but smile back, when they finally pulled apart he was out of breath and trying to figure out whether it was all a dream.

Amy placed one more kiss to the corner of his mouth and finally Jake could confirm it wasn’t a dream.

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | Chap 3 | Chap 4 | Chap 5 | Chap 6 | Chap 7 | Chap 8 | Chap 9 | Chap 10

authors note: Another chapter out so quick because the passion with which i wrote this section is craazzyy! last chapter i said there would probably only be one more but that was a lie! This is probably the second last chapter and i'll have one last one to wrap it all up!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was so fun to write and i'm really happy with it! Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos - i'll have the next chap up as soon as I can <3 <3

[getsusekaii]

suguru had managed to procure his official license to be a tattoo artist in just two years. he's always been artistic and steady with his hands, but he wanted to make absolute sure that he would be ready to mark his art on someone permanently. he was always found sketching designs, having more than 2 portfolio's worth of art ready to be inked on skin, but he had a special design in reserves for one person only. while he was officially a tattoo artist, suguru still wanted to peruse his degree in pathology and fine arts, hence he settled on waiting to be an official tattoo artist for after he graduated, although he does have an official set up for whenever he was prepared.

the only thing stopping him was that his first customer has quite the uncommon and unorthodox request. satoru has been asking for the past two years to be his first client whenever suguru passed his courses and studies. graceful hands pause in sketching out a long dragon, the colors looking almost water color-like even though it was shaded in with color pencil. he looks over to the source of his distraction, satoru; as he peers at his work. it never ceased to amuse him whenever the other would look so enamored with his art. it gave him more confidence than he knew what to do with.

“satoru,” he purrs, corners of his mouth lifting into a small smile, feeling those arms wrap snuggly around him. he hates to admit it, but he adores how clingy satoru could be. he didn't often like sharing his personal space with others, preferring social distance at all times, but something about his roommate's comforting touch sent his heart into a tizzy every time. he hums thoughtfully, being asked this same question again. it's not like he's stalling on purpose but... “when? hmm, let me see,” he ponders softly, knowing he couldn't stall any longer on the promise he'd made to him.

the only thing he isn't sure of is getting matching tattoos - ignore the fact that he already has an idea in mind, but he would hate to get one only for something to happen and it be a reminder of every that could have been but never was. however looking into those gorgeous sapphire eyes, suguru felt as if a possibility like that would never exist. his heart felt like it was in the heavens as the other proclaims he wants to be his first. there were quite a lot of those in that bold yet ambiguous words; first client, first love, first kiss...

he turns to look at him, gaze soft and enamored. “you have quite a way with words, satoru. those public speaking classes do you good,” he teases with a soft smile, the lilt to his voice amused. “you know i promised you would be my first, i plan to keep that promise.” suguru lifts a hand to smooth snow white locks back, enjoying the softness of it and relishing that it's his hands satoru enjoys doing this to him. “i assume you mean more than just my first client with that sentence though. you can't expect me to be able to read your mind though. care to share what you meant by that?”

his head tilts tot he side, eyes flitting over to his book; the rainbow dragon only half finished, but just a few pages behind that, geto finds himself turning to that page to show satoru what he'd kept hidden from him ever since the idea of matching tattoos came up. “if you're actually serious about it... i've considered this for your first tattoo. the frayed fin black koi fish.” one that suguru thought himself as, versus the matching koi with its beautiful fins fading from white to blue. it is quite obviously meant to symbolize them for each other. he looks up at satoru to gauge his reaction. “what do you think?”

TWO YEARS SINCE HIS LIFE CHANGED & HE MET SUGURU GETO. the two of them were roommates & he had watched as his closest friend had pursued his dreams of wanting to be a tattoo artist. meanwhile, satoru was supplementing his learning as he was poised to take over his family's company. he has everything he could want: the striking good looks, the charms, the confidence to back his words, & money beyond his disposable. he has everything he wants except one person. lips pull into a pout as he wraps his arms around suguru. ❛ suguuuruu,❜ he whines before looking over to see what he's sketching.

satoru had always been enamored by his art. he's not sure if it's the way he draws the lines, or even the shading that makes it feel like he looking at a masterpiece. something about suguru's art pulls forth a sense of emotion in him even though he could give a rat's ass about the world. he was considered a prodigy, his sense of business was second to none, so it was obvious he was take up the mantle of ceo soon. ❛ when are you going to tattoo me? ❜ he inquires. the white haired boy had been serious about getting art done by him. he even went so far as suggested matching tattoos. it was the connection between them he wanted to solidify in a meaning of a tattoo, not to mention the way his heart seems to beat a little faster every time suguru gives him a glance. he could get lost in those amethyst eyes, a beautiful jewel that always tends to carry a sense of ease, a peace that he finds.

❛ i wanna be your first everything, ❜ he declares boldly. there was no shame in his words. maybe he was greedy when it came to suguru, desiring it all when it comes to him. it's why satoru's had not stuck to his playboy ways, in an effort to get suguru to notice him. before he had met suguru, he wouldn't bat an eyelash & discard his one night stands as if they were plastic only to be recycled by different faces. he's sure his best friend could destroy a person's hopes & dreams by rejection alone & that's why he's always scared that suguru would reject him. satoru had never felt more seen, he was a stained glass window with an easy reflection to see. no one had ever made an effort to get to know him behind all the bravado.

how much more obvious can he be? he pulls his lips into a pout, gaze softening hoping that suguru would budge with something.if shoko were here he's certain her eyeballs would fall out from rolling her eyes too much.

@getsusekaii

[nocapesdahling]

Logs on the Fire

Geralt of Rivia x GN! Reader

My Masterlist

Summary: You spend the winter at Kaer Morhen with Geralt.

Rating: M (17+)

Warnings/Tags: Established relationship; Soft! Geralt of Rivia; Implied sexual content; Fluff; Domesticity

A/N: I haven’t seen The Witcher season 2 yet, and can’t wait to watch it. This was inspired by experiencing Kaer Morhen in the games and enjoying exploring during that sequence in Wild Hunt. I also really loved the idea of wintering at Kaer Morhen with Geralt.

Word Count: 1.6k

When Geralt had mentioned joining him at Kaer Morhen for the winter, you had experienced a moment of hesitation before saying yes. This would be your first time joining him there and though you had met Vesemir, Coen, Lambert, and Eskel before and liked them all, this would be your first time spending the entire winter in a secluded area with them. You had also hesitated out of surprise, which you hadn’t even attempted to conceal from Geralt, knowing that he would be able to read it easily. You loved Geralt and you knew that he loved you, but witchers’ strongholds and safe places weren’t something they revealed to just anyone.

As though he could read your mind, and who knew maybe he could?, Geralt chuckled before pressing a kiss into your hair. “You’re not just anyone, and I don’t want to be without you for the winter. Come with me.”

You didn’t put up even a token protest, curious to see Kaer Morhen and smiling to yourself as you imagined spending the winter there with Geralt. “Alright, I’ll pack.”

“Make sure you pack warm enough clothes, love. It’s colder in the mountains.”

You smiled to yourself, even as you made sure to grab your heaviest cloak. “I’ll have you to keep me warm.”

Geralt’s “Hmm” sounded so affectionate that it almost made you laugh. It would be a good winter.

You lay on your stomach, reading on Geralt’s comfortable and warm bed and watching the snow fall thick and fast through the open doors to the balcony. You knew that Geralt would scold you if he saw the doors open, but with the fire the room was warm enough and it was such a beautiful view. How could he blame you?

Geralt had been out training that morning with Vesemir, so you’d had the room to yourself and you couldn’t help but think that you’d never experienced a winter so peaceful or pleasurable. You hadn’t realized that Geralt never felt safe outside Kaer Morhen, not truly. He was always on guard, watchful. When you’d settled in for the winter, you’d watched some of the care and worry disappear from his eyes and face. He’d always be watchful, but here when you were safe in the company of other witchers he let his guard down and he took his time. You’d spent entire days in bed, somehow learning even more things about each other and what you enjoyed, and you’d been right. He did keep you warm.

You watched the snow swirl in the wind outside, feeling yourself begin to doze before you heard footsteps on the stairs. You shook your head in fondness, knowing that the only reason Geralt made noise coming into his room was so he didn’t scare you. You marked your page in your book before jumping off the bed to close the balcony doors. You had gotten one closed and were working on the other when you heard a throat clear behind you.

“How many times have I told you not to open those? You’re going to catch your death.” Geralt’s voice was dry as he watched you stop pulling at the other door. “Then, where would I be?”

You turned and looked at him, taking his expression in. He was joking, but he also wasn’t. He didn’t want to be without you, which worked out because you didn’t want to be without him either. If you had any doubts before this winter, then all of them had faded away. Geralt had let you in in ways he hadn’t before, and you had somehow fallen deeper in love with him.

You sighed, making eye contact with him. “I won’t do it again.”

Geralt stepped closer and clasped your hand, “I know you won’t. Not when I’m not here to keep you warm. Why don’t we have a bath, and we’ll open them again?”

You smiled at him before throwing your arms around his neck, “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He pulled you closer into his body as he buried his nose in your hair, “Let me get the water.”

Geralt had reclined into the tub, which you’d both moved to face the open balcony doors, and you had squeezed in alongside him. Your head rested on his chest as you traced his multitude of scars and watched the snow.

You felt his intake of breath and then heard his deep voice from above you, “You know, I see why you like this now.” Here he paused and moved his hand from the side of the tub to run it up and down your back, “It’s… peaceful.”

You hummed and listened to his heartbeat, luxuriating in the warmth of the water and his body. You liked listening to his heartbeat. It in one small way proved that he wasn’t what everyone said he was. He may be a witcher, but he was also a man. And especially to you, never a “mutant”. You lost yourself in watching the snow swirl through the air outside, feeling your eyes begin to close.

“I’m glad you’re here. With me.” His voice was hesitant as it always was when admitting some kind of emotion.

You smiled against his chest before pushing yourself up as much as you could to look into his yellow eyes, “I’m glad I’m here too, Geralt. I love you.” You knew that he might not say it back, he rarely did, but you knew he loved you in return because he showed you every day. And he called you love any chance he could in private.

He grasped your chin and tilted your head up, kissing you deeply and pouring all the feelings he couldn’t express in words into the kiss. You squirmed on his lap, trying to pull yourself closer in the limited space of the tub and feeling him beginning to react against you.

Geralt pulled away from the kiss and stared at you for a moment before speaking, “Come on, love. As much as I want to make you come here in this tub, the water is going to get cold and the snow is going to get in. And most of all, there’s a bed right there.”

Given Geralt spent most of his time on the Path, when he had access to a bed he liked to use it. You couldn’t help the sigh at him stopping you there, even with the promise of the bed. Then again as you watched him get out of the tub, that wasn’t a bad view either. It never was. He tended to the fire, stoking it and making sure it was large enough to heat the room before walking to close the balcony doors. He stood in front of them, looking out at the snow for a moment, before closing the doors and turning back to you.

“Now, where were we?”

You watched Geralt as you lay next to him by the fire, his arms around you, lazy in your satisfaction. His long white hair had dried in a few knots that hadn’t been helped by your fingers and his face was relaxed. You leaned in and kissed each of his cheekbones then his lips before leaving the warmth of the blankets.

His eyes blinked open, “Where are you going? Come back.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting something.” You went over to the mirror and grabbed your brush before returning to the blankets and the warmth of Geralt. He pulled you in close and wrapped his arms around you, which you enjoyed for a moment before trying to separate yourself. “Geralt. Geralt.”

You knew he was ignoring you. “Geralt, love.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to brush your hair.”

“My hair?” His voice sounded sleepy, but also surprised. You’d never thought of doing this for him before, but now that you had it was all you wanted to do.

“Yes, your hair. I want to take care of you.”

He shifted to holding you in his arms and pushed himself off the floor, ignoring your flailing arms as you attempted to grab his shoulders out of surprise. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but most men wouldn’t have been able to pick you up like that. Then again, even if it sometimes slipped your mind, Geralt wasn’t most men.

He sat you down on the bed and stood for a moment, watching you scoot further onto the bed before patting the edge in front of you. With some hesitation, he settled himself and held himself tense even as he felt you move closer to him. You watched the fire cast shadows onto his face, his expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry I never offered to do this for you before.” You began to brush his hair slowly, taking your time. You hoped that he’d find this as relaxing as you found it. You loved his hair.

The two of you sat in silence for a long time, broken only by your humming of a song your mother used to sing to you as a child, before Geralt spoke.

“I don’t know if anyone’s done this for me before. Taken care of me the way you have. You know that I love you?”

“I do, Geralt. I do. And we take care of each other.”

“We do, love. We do.” He turned his head, so you could see his smile before turning back to face the fire.

You continued brushing his hair, smiling to yourself. This had been the best winter you’d ever had with the best man you’d ever known, and it wasn’t even over yet.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

A/N: I have a few other winter and Christmas fics that I’m excited to post and finish writing as well. 

I have a SFW Alphabet for Geralt on my Masterlist if you would like more Geralt.

[holykillercake]

Love Ordeal

SANJI X f!READER

word count: 2k

summary: The Strawhts decide to play Secret Davy Treasure and Sanji doens´t stop asking whom you got. 

highlight:  ¨Sanji,¨ you sighed ¨I love you, but if you don´t stop, I will be forced to throw your cigarettes in the ocean and straighten your eyebrows.¨

warning: F.L.U.F.F.

notes: Guys! This a part 2/3 of a request for a fluff where they have a s/o that made them a thing with crochet and how they would react. Also, Secret Davy Treasure is like Secret Santa, but you know. ALSO, there is a surprise at the end! 

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Just pick one, Luffy!¨

¨But which one?¨

¨It doesn´t matter!¨

¨Hmm, can I pick two?¨

¨NO!¨

Earlier that day, an old lady told Nami that whichever path Luffy chose would always lead to another Winter Island. So with the end of the year approaching and the cold weather, you decided to play Secret Davy Treasure, a great South Blue tradition.

It consisted of the participants writing their names on a piece of paper, mixing them in a bowl - or Luffy's hat - and drawing them.  Whoever’s name you picked is who you will buy or make a Secret Davy Treasure.

You should have guessed that even something that sounded so simple would be complicated in the Thousand Sunny. The crew didn´t seem to understand nor follow the rules of physics, reality, and the game. 

At first, Zoro folded his paper with his name on the outside; then Brook picked himself and didn´t tell anyone. Now you were struggling with Luffy, who couldn´t pick one because A) he wanted to know what was written inside, and B) he wanted to pick more than one. 

While Franky, Usopp, and Chopper yelled at him, trying to make him understand, Brook laughed at the whole situation, and the rest of you wished to die and get reborn as clams. 

Sanji adjusted the blanket around your bodies and hugged you tighter, chatting until the commotion was over.  

¨Will you tell me?¨ he blew some smoke, and you tilted your head to look at him. 

¨Tell what?¨

¨Who you got.¨

¨What? Of course no!¨ you laughed ¨This is not how you play it!¨

¨But we are a couple, Y/N-chan!¨

¨.., and?¨ you sang the word.

¨We shouldn't keep secrets from each other!¨

A cloud of white smoke came out of your mouth when you giggled before snuggling deeper in his arms. 

¨Okaay,¨ Usopp crawled closer to you, defeated and holding Luffy´s hat ¨he will be the last one.¨

Despite your captain yelling that he should be the first to pick, you were all getting tired and opted to ignore him. 

¨Thanks!¨ you used the blanket to cover yourself as you unfolded it.

A chuckle left your mouth when you saw the name written, and the blonde behind you tried to peek over your shoulder. But you were faster to put the piece of paper with the name of your boyfriend inside your bra.

You turned and gave him a peck on the cheek while he pouted. 

You would have one week to come up with a Davy Treasure for Sanji, and you knew exactly what to do, but some butterflies still flew in your belly, wondering if he would like it. 

As a matter of fact, he loved everything you did, from sweet love to extremely salty culinary disasters. He would find perfection in every little thing done by you.

Enjoying your last days on the island of Snow Globe Pole - yeah, almost as bad as ¨Long Ring Long Land¨ - you decided to tour the city, looking for what you needed to make your gift. Or rather, to crochet your gift.

That was the easy part, for you were on a winter island, yarn and wool were pretty abundant. Every style possible of every possible color, anything that crossed your mind was available in the store. It would have been distracting if you didn´t have the colors already chosen. 

But again, so much for an innocent game. So much for a bit of fun. So naive to believe that Sanji would stop asking you whom you picked. 

In his defense, he had gotten calmer during the first night. But after seeing the bag you brought from the store, he became even more annoying. 

Charming, loving, but still annoying. 

¨It´s not Franky, right? His hands wouldn´t fit in it.¨

¨His regular-sized-robotic-mannequin hands would.¨ you looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

You could almost see the gasp stuck in his throat and his heart skipping a beat. 

After that, he kept bringing you desserts, offering massages, and doing everything in his power to bribe you. Skypiea Sanji was not the real Love Ordeal. Secret Davy Treasure Sanji was the real Love Ordeal. 

¨Sanji,¨ you sighed ¨I love you, but if you don´t stop, I will be forced to throw your cigarettes in the ocean and straighten your eyebrows.¨

He grumbled ¨I love you¨ back among some other things and marched to the kitchen with flames on the top of his head. You chuckled and went back to your colorful wools. 

Before you chose his gift, you thought about Sanji and the things that he liked or needed. From cooking to smoking and women. 

Cooking for him would be outrageous. You wanted to give him something amazing, and you couldn't compare to him in the kitchen. At all.

Women. You were the only woman he wanted and needed, and honestly, you were the woman for the job. 

Now, smoking. You would not buy or make him cigarettes, obviously. But he had this adorable and clumsy thing of always burning the tips of his mittens whenever he lit a cigarette. 

Because of that, you decided to crochet him one of those fingerless gloves that come with a mitten flap so he could cover his fingers once he was done. Like that, he would be warm and natural disaster-free. 

¨There is orange, Y/N-chan! You got Nami, right?!¨ you jumped and almost stabbed yourself with the hook when he yelled in your ear.

¨Oh, my sweet Davy Jones, give me strength...¨ you whispered ¨There is also purple, Sanji-kun. It could be Brook or Robin.¨ 

He pondered over it a little, frowned, and made his way to the door.

¨Hey!¨ he turned with sad puppy eyes ¨Is this really important to you? To know who I got?¨ he nodded. 

You gestured with your head, telling him to come closer. A big and bright smile appeared on his face, and your heart beat stronger. That smile, you would punch the Red Line broken to create another All Blue for that smile. 

Oh, how you love this cook. 

¨Ok! Just because I am asking I´ll tell you first, ok?¨ he spoke with a lower voice but still sparkly. You smiled and nodded. ¨I got Chopper! And I bought him a new backpack with a lot of compartments for his medical stuff.¨

The way he paid attention to the tiny details made you melt. He was always taking care of others, complimenting the crew - except Zoro - and celebrating even the smallest of the successes. 

He showed you the blue backpack, very similar to Chopper´s current one, but a lot stronger, prettier, and more practical. He would love it, no doubts. 

¨Well,¨ you began ¨I got... Usopp.¨ 

You felt terrible about telling him a lie, but you couldn´t spoil your surprise.

 ¨Since we´re going to winter islands, I don´t want his finger to get tangled when, Uhm... he´s picking his Ketchup Stars, Green Stars, or Let´s-scare-creepy-girls-to-death Stars. I really hope he likes it.¨

If you were not paying enough attention, you would have missed Sanji´s disappointed look, which he quickly hid with a kind smile. 

¨You always think about everything, Y/N-chan. He will love it.¨ he kissed your forehead and went back to the kitchen. 

You waited until he closed the door to cringe ¨You are going to hell, Y/N.¨ 

Finally, the Secret Davy Treasure day arrived. You would exchange gifts and then have a nice dinner if Luffy didn´t make a party out of it. He definitely would. 

But you were also grateful that today was the day. Since you told Sanji that you had picked Usopp, he has been acting a little upset. The other guys didn´t notice, but you did. 

You would always notice. And you had an idea why. 

The gift exchanging rules were pretty simple.  The Secret Davy had to offer information about the person receiving the treasure, and the others had to guess. 

It started with Usopp, whose Secret Davy was Franky. He gave him a bunch of super tools and some colored light bulbs for the ¨Party Nipple¨ idea.

Franky´s Secret Davy was Robin. He gave her a journal with waterproof pages he created. 

Robin´s Secret Davy was you, and she presented you with a beautiful copy of a fictional adventure book since you were always reading them on the ship.

Then it was your turn. You held the gift wrapped in a shiny blue paper and began to describe your Secret Davy. 

¨My Secret Davy is... slightly annoying sometimes.¨

¨It´s the stupid-eyebrow.¨ Zoro said.

¨Shut up, marimo head!¨

You continued after Nami punched them. ¨My Secret Davy always takes care of us.¨ 

¨It´s Chopper!¨ you shook your head.

¨Hmm... my Secret Davy is an exceptional fighter! Really strong!¨ 

¨It´s me!¨ 

¨No, Zoro! It´s me! I will become the Pirate King!¨ 

¨Shut up, you two!¨

¨My Secret Davy is...¨ you looked at Sanji and smiled ¨... loving and caring.¨ 

He looked back at you, confused.  Why would you say those about Usopp? Not that he wasn´t loving and caring, but... still. 

¨My Secret Davy is... the man of my dreams, the prince of my fairy tale, and the love of my life.¨

A minute or two passed while everyone waited for Sanji to say something, but he remained frozen with a perplexed expression. 

¨Sanji-san, I think the treasure is yours.¨ Brook said calmy. 

The cook made his way to you slowly, taking the gift from your hands and opening it gently, without tearing the wrapping.  

Did he get upset because of your lie? 

¨Sanji...¨ you called him, but he kept staring at the gloves. 

You saw his eyes fill with water before he excused himself and exited the deck, leaving everyone staring at you. 

¨I don´t... I´m gonna...¨ you pointed and left too. 

When you entered your room, he was standing, back turned to you. Was he really crying, or you saw things?

¨Sanji-kun?¨

¨You remembered...¨ he turned around, still holding the mittens ¨These colors...¨ 

¨Yeah, they don´t really match, but...¨

¨I wanted it so much, Y/N. When I saw it, I wanted it so much.¨

He rushed in your direction and hugged you tight. He hugged you and you felt all his emotions, you felt the weight he carried in his heart. Not a bad weight, just the weight of missing someone you love. 

You knew that that was the reason he was pestering you so much, the colors. You had chosen the colors that Zeff, Sanji´s mentor, wore. 

The fingers were orange and purple, like his striped shirt. You added yellow details of his hair; the blue of his ascot, and the white of his apron. 

As you said, they didn´t match, but apparently, Sanji didn´t care.

He would always share stories about their lives and cook recipes that Zeff taught him. Despite him always calling him old man or damn geezer, the Red Leg was his father.

¨Thank you, Y/N-chan. I loved it.¨

The sound of him sniffing made you hold him stronger. 

¨I miss that damn geezer.¨ 

¨I´m sure he misses you too, Little Eggplant.¨ 

¨Oi!¨

You squeaked and laughed when he threw on the bed.

¨I´ll show you Little Eggplant!¨

Hey, Guys! SURPRISE! Here´s my first decent art? hahaha THE MITTENS!

I don´t know if the quality dropped. I´m using krita and still don´t know how to adjust the settings stuff when I´m saving a jpeg. Anyway, I hope you liked it!

[wish-i-wasnt-a-coward]

Don’t be a coward

a/n: So, I’m super proud of this story but the first one did not do as well as I hoped. If you could, please like and re-blog it would make me so happy. Thank you all so much :)

Part 1, Part 2

Parings: Logince, Moxiety, and Demus 

Warnings: cursing, vague sex mentions, food, a ridiculous amount of pining, kissing, minor intoxication, alcohol mention (everyone is 18) 

Word count: 2,044

✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Roman ran his fingers through his tousled hair, “Why is it so difficult to ask people out? '' he wined, dropping his head into his hands. Logan smirked from across the table, “asking someone to the ball is no more difficult than any of the abundance of sentences you have said in your short life” he sassed over his text-book. Roman just groaned and flipped the pages of his herbology book absentmindedly. 

Their study session was interrupted as Patton plopped down next to the frustrated boy. “Awww Roman, what’s wrong?” he asked and pulled out his homework. “He doesn’t have a date to the yule ball and is complaining about it, unsurprisingly” Logan responded for the grumpy Gryffindor. 

“Come on kiddo, you got this! Anyone would be lucky to have you as a date” the bubbly boy said, wrapping his arm around Roman, who was still sulking. “Tell that to Logan, he’s being mean” Roman grumbled. “mm-hmm” The Ravenclaw hummed, not looking up from his book. 

Patton laughed, “come on, there’s got to be someone you like!” Roman shook his head, “Yeah, like I’ve got a chance with them” Patton frowned, “that sounded a bit self-deprecating kiddo, don’t make me get violent” he chastised hugging Roman tighter. 

Roman looked incredulously at Patton, “I’m not being self-deprecating Pat, I’m just being honest. I’m a Triwizard champion and not one person wants to be with me” Logan looked over his book, “in a romantic sense” Roman corrected. 

“While that is statistically very improbable I do understand your distress, a Triwizard champion that does not have a date would most certainly be ridiculed during the first dance” Logan said, finally putting down his book. “I’ll be leaving you now, I will see you both at the feast,” Logan said, brushing off his skirt and sauntering away. 

“Hey, pat?” Patton hummed, “do you have a date?” The Hufflepuff froze, “why do ya ask kiddo?” Roman shrugged, “I was wondering if we could go platonically, if you don’t have a date of course” Patton smiled awkwardly, “Awwww, that’s sweet, but I already have a date. I’m sorry!” 

Roman eyes widened, “You- You have a date?” Patton nodded, “they asked me not to tell anyone but I figured you should know” the Gryffindor nodded, impressed. “I can not believe you got a date before me” 

Pattan grinned, “well you could always ask out Logan” Roman glared at him, “you know I want to ask out Logan. But he’s either gonna think it’s platonic or he’s gonna turn me down, and then I’ll be too heartbroken to dance” the frustrated boy dropped his head into his hands, “I’m screwed either way”. 

Patton just laughed and smiled knowingly. 

✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The weeks leading up to the ball went far too fast. Of course Roman was as petrified as you could get. He had decided, dragons had nothing on this. 

He did end up with a date, some younger girl had asked and he figured there was no reason to say no. Logan did not receive a date but said he couldn’t care less. He planned to show up to support his friends, and then go back to the library. 

Roman could hear his brother shuffling around the back of the common room, probably trying to destroy his dress robes even more. He wasn’t sure if Remus had a date but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Remus did his own thing, he would be fine. The boy straightened his deep red dress robes the best he could, took a deep breath, and went down to meet his date. 

The date in question wore a long orange dress, similar to Romans red. The two walked to the great hall arm in arm, she wasn’t very talkative and mostly seemed to be going out with him for clout. Roman was well aware that this was as good as he was going to get. 

But it was pretty good, the hall was covered in glistening decorations, and snow fell gently on their heads. Romans date squealed in excitement, but Roman really couldn’t care less about the hall.

Logan was there.

The Ravenclaw wore a simple blue button-down shirt tucked into a long black skirt that was embroidered with silver constellations. His mid-length hair was pulled up into a bun that had been impaled by his wand. The light of the decorations seemed to bounce off of him like he was glowing.

“Oh my, he looks beautiful” Roman nodded but his date wasn’t facing Logan. After a moment of confusion, he followed her gaze. 

Patton, yes Patton, floated down the staircase. His light blue floor-length gown flowed around him like water as he walked. A sparkly headband was nestled in his curly hair and light makeup adorned his face along with a wide grin. He looked like a goddess, or at the very least a princess. Of course, Logan looked better in Roman’s eyes but Patton was a close second. 

Virgil walked up to Patton, bowing deeply and holding out his arm. Patton giggled and took it, allowing himself to be lead away. Roman’s jaw must have hit the floor. Not only did Patton look amazing but Virgil had asked him out, and he had said yes!

Roman’s date clung to his arm a little painfully as they followed the pair to the Professor leading the champions to the dance floor. 

The first dance was clumsy, and the second not much better. Roman was a decent dancer but he kept getting distracted by Logan, who kept popping up in his peripheral vision while conversing with the guests. His date was not happy with him. As soon as the dance floor was full she stalked away angrily, her orange dress flying behind her.

Roman hoped she got a better dance partner. 

Patton and Virgil still flew above the others, Janus had found himself a date as well. It looked like a Hogwarts student, but Roman couldn’t place them. They both wore yellow and green dress robes and floated almost as much as Patton and Virgil. Perhaps slightly less elegantly but floating nonetheless. A stark contrast to Roman’s dancing moments before. 

The champion slinked off of the dance floor. Roman was so wrapped up in his thoughts he almost slammed into a familiar figure carrying drinks, “oh my gosh, I’m so sorry- Oh Logan! How are you” Roman said, smiling at the boy. 

“I’m doing quite well, thank you Roman,” Logan said happily, “would you like to find a seat? I wouldn’t mind talking for a while” Roman nodded vigorously and the two made their way over to an empty table. 

“Is it safe to assume you did not know of Patton’s date?” Logan asked. Roman nodded, “I knew he had one but I didn’t know who it was” Logan bit his lip thoughtfully, “Me as well, and your brother?” 

Roman furrowed his eyebrows, “my brother?” he questioned. “Yes your brother, is that not him dancing with the Baubax champion?” Roman looked back onto the dance floor catching a glimpse of the yellow and green dancers, 

“HOLY SHIT!!! That is my brother! I didn’t know he had a date, he’s going out with Janus! Why is he so clean!!!” Roman said, freaking out. 

Logan laughed, “yes I figured it would be a surprise. I was there when Remus asked, it was quite amusing. I was surprised Janus said yes” Roman grinned, interested, “tell me about it!” he said and shimmied closer to Logan excitedly. 

The two sat and talked for quite a while. By the time the dance floor had cleared a bit, they were both drowsy and perhaps a bit tipsy. “Dance with me?” Roman offered his hand, mustering what little courage he had left. Logan nodded happily, taking Roman’s hand and allowing himself to be led onto the floor. 

‘This is more like floating’ Roman thought he wrapped his hands around Logan’s waist. Logan was an excellent dancer, much better than his last partner (no shade to her but Logan is perfect in every way). 

As they danced they passed Patton who squealed excitedly and whispered something to his partner. Virgil smiled at Roman in a congratulatory way, Roman smiled right back. They also passed Roman’s brother who stuck out his tongue at Roman and flipped him off. Roman retaliated instantly, causing both Logan and Janus to laugh. 

Logan leaned his forehead against Roman’s shoulder, “I like dancing with you” he mumbled into the red fabric, “I like dancing with you too” Roman said his face now matching his robes. 

In a bout of bravery, he pressed a kiss to the top of Logan’s head. Logan pulled Roman even closer and breathed deeply. 

They stayed like this for hours. Patton and Virgil disappeared and Remus was unabashedly making out with Janus in the corner of the ballroom. Roman tugged on Logan’s sleeve after the Ravenclaw yawned one too many times. “Bed?” Logan nodded sleepily. 

Roman walked Logan to the Ravenclaw common room. Logan stopped in front of the door letting go of Roman’s hand for the first time since the ballroom. “Well, I’ll see you later,” Logan said, “uh, yah! Tomorrow” Roman waved. Logan turned to go. 

‘Come on, don’t be a coward’ Roman could hear his brother scolding him. “Logan?” 

The Ravenclaw wiped around, “yes?” Roman took a step, “can I, um” he glanced down at Logan's lips, Logan nodded, “you may”. 

Neither were sure who closed the gap. 

Romans head filled with styrofoam as Logan’s lips connected with his. The Ravenclaw moved his hands to cup Romans face as Romans arms wrapped around his waist on instinct. Fireworks exploded around them, skin was cleared, crops were watered, all was well with the world. 

Then Logan pulled away. “Good night Roman,” he said grinning. Roman stood shell-shocked and Logan disappeared up the stairs. The Gryffindor ran his fingers across his lips and smiled. 

✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Weeks had flown by and the second task hung above the champion’s heads like swords. Logan and Patton helped Roman crack the egg puzzle in every way they could, but It just kept screaming. 

Virgil and Janus had started hanging out with the group of misfits. Janus was snarky and quick with a joke, they all grew to like him. Patton asked Virgil on another date and a few days later the two officially started dating.

Logan and Roman danced around each other both unsure how to ask the other out. Especially with the second task approaching alarmingly fast. 

“Roman!” a voice called from down the hallway, Roman turned towards it and smiled seeing it was Virgil, “Roman, I need to tell you something” Virgil painted, “yeah?”. “I know we agreed not to talk about the tournament because we’re both competing”

Roman tried to cut them off, “wait, listen. I never returned the tip about the dragons and you need to know” Roman looked hesitant, “I’m not sure…” Virgil sighed, “just…. you know the prefect’s bathroom,” he said. “Umm yeah,” Roman blinked, “it’s not a bad place for a bath” Roman blinked, “What? The hell does that mean???” but Virgil was already gone. 

That night Roman snuck down to the prefect’s bathroom, carrying the egg gingerly. He stripped down to his underwear and slipped into the huge bathtub. He turned back towards the egg sitting on the side. “This is crazy” he whispered to himself and screwed open the top. Screams filled the bathroom and Roman clamped it shut. 

“What the hell are you doing?” a voice called from the doorway.

Logan walked in, turning away red-faced when he saw Roman in the bathtub. “My question stands, what the fuck are you doing?” he asked embarrassed. “Umm, I got a tip that I should take a bath with the egg. Figured we didn’t have many other ideas, so...” Roman trailed off, equally red. 

Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and turning back towards Roman, “did you try putting it in the water?” he asked exasperatedly. “no” Roman admitted quietly, picking up the egg and dunking it in the water. 

He took a breath and screwed it open. There were no screams, Logan gestured at the tub, “go listen”. Roman plunged into the water. 

Come seek us where our voices sound, We cannot sing above the ground, An hour-long you'll have to look, To recover what we took

Roman came up gasping for air. “what did it say!” Logan asked excitedly sitting next to the tub. Once Roman had caught his breath he repeated what the egg had said. 

Logan looked thoughtful. “Perhaps a see-dwelling creature… one that sings” he murmured. “Roman, do you know of any mermaid populations in the black lake” 

Roman nodded excitedly, “Logan you’re a genius” he exclaimed pulling himself out of the water and hugging Logan tightly. 

Logan flushed and pressed a kiss to Roman’s wet hair. “Thank you, but the work isn’t over yet,” he said, pulling away now soaking wet, “what does the second half mean and how are you going to be underwater for an hour?” he exclaimed thinking rapidly. Roman nodded, drying himself off and pulling back on his clothes. 

“Right, that may be a problem” he contemplated. “But a problem for future you and me. It’s late, we should go to bed” Logan shrugged, “you’re right, we should. May I walk you back?” 

And if Roman wasn’t there when Remus woke up, well, that’s none of your business. 

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s 6✩ Inspiration: Twilight Facet [暮光之境] Date Translation (Prologue)

“I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I suddenly felt like he exuded loneliness unlike any other.”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *6✩ Inspirations have 6 Endings!! *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

It was the dead of winter.

The car was driving out in the suburbs. Beyond the windows of the car was a never-ending flurry of snow that seemingly piled up in white heaps all around.

MC: Achoo!

My top half was utterly drenched. Shuddering, I drew the thick overcoat closer to my frame.

Evan: Do you need me to turn the heater up?

MC: No need. Your coat's plenty warm enough… Achoo!

Evan inclined his head, glancing at me in concern before speeding up.

Evan: Just bear with it for a little while. We're almost there.

MC: Okay…

I sniffled with care, feeling the heating within the car work its magic as the warmth rushed at my face. Finally, I felt some semblance of warmth.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

About what was probably 2 hours ago, Evan and I had taken his car to the neighbouring City to visit a large-scale Contemporary Art Exhibition.

However, we’d crossed paths with a sound-activated waterwork not long after entering the venue… Safe to say, I ended up being drenched to the bone, much to my surprise...

And that was how our much-anticipated trip to the Exhibition came to an abrupt close…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan skillfully manoeuvred around a corner and a Victorian-style building appeared before my very eyes.

MC: Huh? Didn't you say that you were going to bring me somewhere where I could fix myself back up for the time being?

He chuckled lightly, slowing his car in front of the gates.

Evan: It's too late to be heading back to Guangqi City now. It was more convenient to come here.

Evan: Don't worry. This is my home.

Evan helped me gather up his overcoat, which had become slightly slippery from the water. He then helped me up the steps to the Villa with his arm around me.

The huge door swung open, and a middle-aged man and woman came up to greet us. They were both dressed in matching uniforms and carried an air of poise and elegance around them.

Surprise coloured their faces upon seeing Evan standing there. They moved to give him each a deep bow and curtsy, respectively.

Middle-Aged Man & Woman: Welcome back, Sir!

Evan smiled and gently took the lead.

Evan: (Y/n), meet Uncle Chen and Aunt Wang.

MC: Hello, it's nice to meet you!

They both glanced at us before quickly exchanging a knowing look at each other. The joy on their faces seemed to brighten a tad.

Middle-Aged Man & Woman: Hello, Miss (Y/n)!

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Only when we'd entered the warm confines of the Villa, did he willingly let me out of his grasp

Evan: How about you go get yourself changed first and come find me after?

MC: Okay!

Evan: I'll be leaving her to you then, Aunt Wang.

Aunt Wang: Understood, Sir. Please follow me, Miss.

I followed Aunt Wang down the hall. She slowed her pace until she was side-by-side with me. She occasionally snuck a couple of glances over at me, the amusement reflected in her eyes only growing ever more potent.

Aunt Wang: He doesn’t come here often enough. I and Old Chen here have not seen him for a very long time now…

MC: But Evan said that this was his home. So why hasn’t he been back in that long?

MC: Oh! Is it because this place’s too far from Guangqi City? He’s always so busy, so he probably doesn’t have enough time to drop in often…

Aunt Wang: You really do know him well.

MC: …...

Aunt Wang: This is actually where he grew up. That being said, he only lived here for a short period when he was still very little.

MC: I see. So this was where he lived as a kid?

Aunt Wang: Yes. But, he was the only one here back then, so he's much better off now.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

She laughed as she said that, pushing open a door and leading me straight into a room.

She took a set of neatly folded clothes that had been set onto a tray from the tabletop, respectfully offering it to me.

Aunt Wang: Miss (Y/n), I'll be taking your clothes for a quick dry cleaning.

Aunt Wang: We don't have any new sets of clothes here other than the uniform, so I do hope you don't mind...

MC: Of course not! Thanks.

With Aunt Wang's aid, I soon managed to change into a set of clean and warm clothes. However…

The black satin dress snugly fitted my figure. It narrowed at the waist and stopped at the ankles. Embellished with a white apron, it came with a hint of unspoken warmth and playfulness.

Aunt Wang: Your figure is splendid, as do the way you carry yourself, Miss. Even when dressed in clothes like this, people can tell that you're special just by a glance.

MC: You're flattering me…

Aunt Wang: He has instructed that you are free to enter and leave the Villa at will. You can do as you please here.

Aunt Wang: I'll send your clothes up to you once they're done dry-cleaning.

MC: Sure, see you!

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding after Aunt Wang left. I stretched and moved my body, which had been tense ever since I entered the Villa, around.

Suddenly, I caught sight of something else on the tray where the uniform had initially been from the corner of my eye.

MC: Glasses?

I took the glasses, slightly suspicious about their whereabouts. I suddenly recalled seeing Aunt Wang and Uncle Chen wearing identical pairs… Is this also one of the rules set in place here?

Seeing how I was dressed similarly, I paused to contemplate the glasses for a few seconds before carefully slipping them on.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After that, I left the room. I had only just stepped out of the door when I bumped into Uncle Chen, who was carrying an exquisite tea set and seemed to be in a hurry.

Uncle Chen: Miss (Y/n).

MC: Hello!

He nodded at me and made his way past me. However, he soon swivelled around and stared at me in slight surprise.

Uncle Chen: You've tidied yourself up?

MC: Yep, yep!

Uncle Chen: Brilliant!

Uncle Chen: Pardon me, Miss (Y/n). I have a favour I'd like to ask you. May I?

MC: What is it?

Uncle Chen: You see, I'm just about to send his drink up to him, but the fireplace just so happens to require new coal to keep the fire going...

Uncle Chen: Aunt Wang said that she'd get onto it as soon as she finishes up on her end, but she has never done it before, so…

Uncle Chen: Changing out the coal is a rather complicated task, so I'm a little worried...

MC: I'll just take the drink to Evan for you. I'm going to look for him anyway.

Uncle Chen: Thank you! His room is the one at the end of the hall.

MC: It's nothing much, don't worry about it.

I took the tray over from him and walked towards Evan’s room.

Stopping in front of his door, I freed a hand and knocked on the door.

Evan: Enter.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

I gently turned the knob and headed inside. A faint fragrance greeted me, washing over my face.

It was a very wide room, but it wasn’t decorated in an equally luxurious manner at all. It was sparsely furnished and was chic and elegant.

Evan currently had his back to me, reclining on the sofa as he flipped through a book. The soft light fell upon him, making him look as gentle and elegant as ever.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but I suddenly felt like he exuded loneliness unlike any other.

Am I just imagining it?

I blinked, shaking my head to clear my head of the strange thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I slowly approached him, placing the delicate, yet exquisite-looking tea set from the tray onto the coffee table.

Evan: Same as always. Not too thick.

Saying so, he flipped to another page. His gaze was still trained to the book.

Hmm? Does he think I’m Uncle Chen? Seeing how serious he was, I suddenly thought of pranking him.

I carefully poured a small portion of the thick drink from the teapot into the cup, added some hot water, and stirred. I served him the drink once it was thoroughly stirred.

MC: ...Please enjoy your drink, Sir.

Evan’s hand froze midway through turning the page. He slowly raised his head, his eyes filled with sheer disbelief.

Evan: You…

I winked playfully at him.

MC: Sir, it’ll turn cold if you don’t drink it while it’s still hot.

The amusement in his eyes became more pronounced as he took a sip from his cup, shooting me another glance.

Evan: Why are you here for this?

MC: I met Uncle Chen along the way. He was rather antsy about wanting to deal with other matters, so I decided to drop in with the stuff he was going to bring in.

Evan: So that's how it is.

He nodded, chuckling softly when his gaze fell to my clothes.

Evan: Why are you dressed like that?

MC: All my clothes were sent to be dry-cleaned. Aunt Wang said that we’d dropped in on too much of a short notice that there wasn’t time for them to prepare any suitable clothes.

MC: Still… It's my first time wearing something like this. Do I look weird?

He smiled, stretching out a hand to adjust my askew glasses.

Evan: Not at all. You're very adorable dressed like that.

I momentarily stiffened as he did his thing before smiling back at him and deliberately moving my face closer in front of him.

MC: Glad that I didn’t scare you half to death, Sir.

Evan: And why are you still calling me that?

MC: Well… Isn’t it fitting, considering how I’m dressed now? Plus, Aunt Wang and Uncle Chen address you like this too.

MC: Speaking of, is this thing a rule or something here?

Evan: …There used to be many rules set in place here, but it's much laxer now.

MC: I see… Then, what about aromatherapy? Is that also a rule? Or is it something done on a whim?

I wrinkled my nose and sniffed the air, suddenly a little curious about the lingering fragrance.

MC: What a peculiar scent; and only in your room. Is this one of the rules and regulations here?

Evan smiled, shaking his head.

Evan: Uncle Chen was the one who lit it. He probably thought that I’d take an afternoon nap, so he made all the preparations for it.

An afternoon nap? I glanced at the clock and saw that it was the perfect time for a lunchtime nap.

I…

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

✥ Choose your Ending:

END 1 | Choice: Do Nothing [都不做]  

END 2 + 3 | Choice: Approach [亲近] ⊹Touch⊹

END 4 | Choice: Listen [倾听] ❖ASMR

END 5 + 6 | Choice: Heart-throb [心动] ✩Light & Night★

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Revolution⊹ —————★❖

[sakurabloom48]

This is one of my genshin OC’S… here are some of his voice lines!!!!

Name: rune (roon)

Name Meaning: secret

Language name is from: Old Norse

~~~

Hello:

Hello my name is Rune. I’m not really in the mood to chat at the moment as I am still in the middle of reading this book, but since it is you traveler I will put my book down for a bit and chat with you if you’d like.

Chat:Fatui:

Hmm, wonder what the fatui are planning to do this time.

Chat:Reading:

Oh. Oh! This chapter is quit intriguing if I do say so myself.

Chat:Hunger:

I could really go for some Sakura mochi at the moment. Uh hm I should stay focused.

When it rains:

Oh dear, let’s hurry up before my books get wet, but then we can listen to the rain. Reading when it rains is always my favorite thing to do.

When thunder strikes:

1, 2, 3, 4. Hmm. Counting thunder is quit relaxing if you’d ask me. I’m not sure why so many people are scared of such a thing.

When it snows:

Brrr, I can’t stand this weather. Let’s find find a fire and warm up, I’ll lend you my coat if you need it.

When it snows ll:

I really despise the cold and snow, but a fire and book would be nice.

When the sun is out:

It’s such a nice day. Say, this is perfect weather to write or read out in the plains of narukami island.

When the wind is blowing:

This is some of the worst weather to read in. The pages of my books always fly around everywhere.

Good morning:

Good morning traveler, I’ve made you some breakfast and Sakura tea. Please sit and enjoy the food and beverage before it goes cold. It’s much better while warm. If you don’t mind I’d like to take you to watatsumi island today, as I have busy with general gorou today, and then would like to find a place to read, write, or sketch. How does that sound?

Good afternoon:

Phew, finally the bigger portion of our work is done for today. How would you like to grab some food and rest for a bit. I would love if you could tell me your opinion on this chapter I’ve written here recently for miss lady guuji.

Good evening:

*sigh* finally we are able to rest for the evening. I will start to prepare dinner. You, traveler, sit and relax. You deserve it.

Good night:

Oh, off to bed now? Ok get some rest. Oh? Of course traveler, I will gladly read to you. Now, what would you like for me to read for you tonight. Ok, let me help you to bed. I’ll make you some some tea and get you warm and cozy.

About Rune: Past Khaenri'ah:

Khaenri'ah? Well before I lost everyone I loved when khaenri'ah feel, it was a beautiful place. Full of life. Children running around through the streets. Mine and Dainsleif’s soldiers walking through the streets helping people. Vendors. It was like any other nation, but once the gods attacked I and dainsleif split, people were screaming and crying everywhere. It’s the most traumatizing thing that’s ever happened to me. I had walked through the rubble of khaenri'ah and found dainsleif walking around too, so we stuck together. After so many years I and dainsleif went our separate ways though. Him exploring teyvat, while I stayed here in inazuma since my father was originally from here, as for me being half oni. Hmm? No don’t be sorry for asking, I don’t mind sharing as much as dainsleif does.

About Rune: Books:

Friendship lvl 4

For as long as I can remember I’ve liked to write. Selling books, or even writing books, has always been a family tradition. Even before Khaenri'ah fell I would write. Dainsleif would always read them and see what I should change, but after we went our separate ways I relied on lady guuji. So now I and lady guuji work together and she sells my books. As for the ones she or others write, I chnage things like miss spelling, capitulations, and punctuations.

[yutahoes]

Sakura

(Part Six)

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six

genre : Chaptered, Fluff, Dramatic

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Y/N

word count : 2.8k words

You’ll always be his Sakura.

@ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy @nuoyipeach​ @aaasteroidsky​ @thisis-myname​ @yutazen01​

“Dude, are you out of your mind? You’re going to transfer to the Korean team?” Yuta rolled his eyes. How many times does he have to tell Mark about this? Korea is doing well in soccer, maybe he can transfer to the team since he started playing soccer here. “You’re promising. Even the coach says so.” 

Yuta sighed then leaned on the counter. “It’s only for three years, Mark. After that, I’ll transfer to the Japan team or go back to Spain.” He explained before thanking the pharmacist for the medicine. 

“I totally underestimated you, hyung.” Mark claimed. “I didn’t know you were the type to do these for a girl.” 

“You’ll understand it when you fall in love.” Yuta smiled then stopped when he spotted the younger girl seated on the bench outside her mom’s room and she was looking at him. "I'll talk to you later, Mark." He hung up the phone then sat beside her. "Why are you outside? It's pretty chilly." 

"Jae is noisy." She said in a soft voice before turning her book to the next page. Yuta checked on the title of the book she's reading, The ABC Murders by Agatha Christie. A young child reading a suspense thriller book. Cherry is indeed something. "Ahjusshi…" she called without leaving her gaze on the book. "When did you know that you love my mom?" 

He sat next to her, placing the bag of medicine beside him. "I heard what you said on the phone, that you're in love. How do you know that you're in love with someone?" Is this some boy trouble? But isn't she too young to be thinking about this? And, is he the right person to tell her these things? "Do you really love my mom?" Then it might not be some personal problem. 

Yuta sighed then bent forward so that his elbows were on his lap. "I don't know when it started. Taeyong might be right that I do love her even before she left for Chicago." 

"When did you know that you are in love with her?" 

He smiled. "You know your mom had that twinkle in her eyes when she's so happy about something. I like that twinkle." Yuta grinned as if remembering a memory. Y/N holding a snow globe while smiling. The white snow falling on her as the lights of Osaka illuminate her. "I wanted to protect that happiness for the rest of my life."

"If you really love her, why did you let her meet my dad?" 

That question. She already asked it back in the aquarium and he was honestly surprised. He doesn't know what to answer to that back then but now he knew. "I was a coward." That answer obviously surprised Cherry. "I was scared that I can't keep that smile." He grinned then ruffled her hair that made her whine. "I hope, now, we can keep your mom's smile." She only nodded. 

"You're a great listener, Cherry." 

The younger sighed. "That's all I ever do, listen." 

Yuta smiled. "Then if you ever needed someone to talk to, I'll be here." He gestured to the book. "Can you tell me this story when you're done?" The older guy smiled widely when she nodded. Yuta removed the jacket he's wearing and wrapped it around her. "You should come inside when it gets too cold. Your mom will worry if you get sick." 

Cherry nodded that made him stand up, heading to Y/N's room. But before he could enter the door, the younger girl held his wrist. "Thank you…" she said quietly. "Samchon." Yuta smiled. She’s such a tsundere. 

                                                         ----

It was an everyday scenario for the past school week that Yuta would fetch the kids after school then head to the restaurant where Y/N is working to eat lunch. Sometimes, he would teach Jae soccer while Cherry waits for them, reading her book quietly. 

It was Friday when they went to the same restaurant, greeting Y/N and some waitresses that they had grown accustomed to. The three sat at their usual table by the corner of the restaurant, Jae and Cherry next to each other while Yuta sat opposite the two. 

The youngest giggled when his mom came to their table handing them the menu that they have seen countless times already. “Have you eaten?” Yuta asked that made Y/N nod. “Your medicine?” Again, she nodded with a smile. “I’ll have the vongole pasta.”

“Chicken!” Jae said in a cheerful tone while handing his mom the menu. Yuta even teased him by saying that he’ll grow a wing next time he eats chicken. “Noona, are you going to have the chicken as well?” 

Cherry shook her head then closed the menu. “I’ll have the jumbo shrimps.”

Y/N stared at her, taking the menu from her. “You don’t know how to peel shrimps. Do you want me to peel it for you?” But Cherry shook her head. The older pursed her lips and went to the kitchen to get their orders that made Yuta shake his head. 

He asked if they have homework but Jae shook his head saying that it's Friday. "But I have a project to do. Can you help me, samchon?" Yuta nodded then he looked at Cherry who was just playing with the napkins on the table. 

When their orders came, the youngest guy was too excited to have chicken and Yuta watched as he took a drumstick and started munching on it. Cherry was just looking on the plate of six jumbo shrimps. "Do you need help, Cherry?" He asked and she nodded. He smiled before showing her how to peel the skin of the shrimp using a spoon and fork. 

"That's so cool, samchon!" Jae said wide-eyed. "Do you always do that?" 

He nodded. "Your mom loves shrimps but she doesn't know how to peel it off so I learned this." Cherry just stared at him. "Try it out, Cherry." 

She tried peeling the next jumbo shrimp but accidentally cut it in half that made her annoyed. "It's fine. You're doing well." Yuta complimented. He watched as she focused on the next shrimp, tongue darting out that reminded him so much of Y/N. She usually does it when she's drawing. 

The surprised expression was easily seen on her face when she flawlessly skinned one shrimp. "You're good at this, noona." Jae said while munching on his chicken. 

Cherry skinned the remaining three, breaking one in half. Yuta was surprised when she put a shrimp on her brother's plate then two shrimps on his plate, leaving the cut shrimps on her plate. Jae complained that he wanted another shrimp and Yuta gave him the other one from his plate. The younger girl put another shrimp on his plate then ate the half from her plate. She's really charming. 

Yuta put some of the pasta on one of the small plates and handed it to Cherry to eat. He even scooped some on his fork the feed Jae who exclaimed that he'll order it next time. 

After eating, he brought the two of them to a large library that he only searched on the internet. Jae's eyes were twinkling since there's a part in the library where you can play with other kids, as well as read children's books. "We'll do your project, hmm? I will just buy some drinks." Yuta told the younger guy who only nodded. "Cherry, can you come with me?" 

She nodded, following him. They exited the children's section then passed the Vendo machines before heading to one room. "The library boasts a bookshelf dedicated to Agatha Christie," Yuta explained then pointed at one shelf. "You finished your book, right? I'll keep Jae company so you can read more." He ruffled her hair but she didn't react. "Read as many as you can. I'll bring you snacks later." She nodded that made him smile. 

Yuta just let Cherry on her own while he helped Jae with his drawing. “You know your mom is really good at drawing.” He said absent-mindedly while drawing a small Spiderman on the bottom of the page. Jae looked surprised at the revelation even explaining that he never once saw his mom draw something. 

Did she stop drawing illustrations? But she’s studying arts in college. Did she stop? Come to think of it, she stopped saying things about her college life after the fifty-fifth letter. It’s all about Chicago. Did she drop out of college just to be a mom? Maybe she’s taking this dream too hard. 

He promised to bring them home before five since Y/N is getting home at four but it's already past six when Yuta realized the time. He had been enjoying his time with Jae, playing and even reading him some books. The younger was the one who told him to go home since he's sleepy. 

But he changed when he saw his noona crying. Jae's eyes were wide as he watched the older guy hugging the sobbing girl. "It's already late. Your mom will get worried, Cherry." But she kept crying in his arms, claiming that she doesn't want to go home yet, which made Yuta sigh. She might have enjoyed being here too much. "When I get back from Spain, we'll return here and read all the books here, hmm?" He assured the young girl who was breathing heavily, staring at him with her teary eyes. 

When they arrived at her place, Y/N was surprised to see Cherry sleeping on Yuta's shoulder. She pointed to her daughter's room as Jae announced that Cherry cried non-stop in the cab. "That was the first time I saw noona cry, eomma." Yuta smiled hearing those words. Where did she get this tsundere attitude? "Maybe she really liked Yuta samchon." Jae claimed. Does she? 

He was supposed to go home when she invited him for dinner. Jae said that he's too sleepy to eat and that he'll just wash up when he wakes up in the morning. Yuta was just chuckling at that when the younger asked to be tucked in by his favorite soccer player. The older nodded, carrying him to his room. "I'm going to miss you, samchon. You promise to call me and tell me about your practices." 

He chuckled at that. "Of course, bud. You are my lucky charm." Jae giggled at that. "But you have to promise to eat more and go to school so you can cheer on me better." He nodded. "Take care of eomma and noona while I'm gone, okay?" He lightly rubbed the younger's stomach that made Jae smile then yawned. "Go to sleep, Jae." 

Before he could leave the room, Jae wrapped his small arms around Yuta's neck. "Thank you for today, Appa." He said in a sleepy voice before Yuta felt the weight of his head on his shoulder. The older lightly placed him in bed, smiling to himself. Is it possible to feel butterflies in your stomach with just a simple word? Why does he want to keep hearing that word? 

Yuta was grinning widely when he left Jae’s room and Y/N was just looking at him weirdly that made him laugh. “Is he asleep?” He nodded, sitting on the chair opposite hers. “Are you going to eat?” 

“Yeah. You never cooked for me before. This is my chance.” She giggled at that saying that she made him rice cakes in Osaka before. “That doesn’t count, obaasan helped you.” He thanked her for the food and tried the stew she made, smiling. “It’s pretty decent.” 

She revolted with a laugh. “You do know that I hate cooking but I have to learn or the three of us will die.” 

“Yeah, you changed so much,” he muttered absent-mindedly. “But in a good way. You’re more responsible now, it’s amazing.” She ate a spoonful of rice, taking time in chewing that simple meal. “You’re doing a great job as a mom. Those two are really charming in their own ways.” 

Y/N smiled at that. “They should have met you sooner. Maybe Jae wouldn’t cry over petty reasons and Cherry would learn to smile more. You’re going to be a great dad someday, Yuta.” 

A great dad. He wouldn’t even know that he would feel proud at that simple phrase if not for her and her children. Appa. He wanted to be called that word repeatedly. He wanted to spend time with his kids, reading books and playing soccer. He wanted to tuck them to bed at night and wake up with their smiling face. He wanted to eat breakfast with them, bond with them at lunch, and ask for their help in cooking dinner. He wanted to drive them to school and pick them up while sharing stories of what they did the whole day. 

He wanted to spend time with his lucky charm and let him cry over petty reasons. He wanted to show the tsundere all the care he can give and let her slowly smile for him. He wanted to do this. For Jae and Cherry. For Y/N. 

"I think I just changed my dream." He started that made her look at him curiously, finishing her food. "I want to be a dad." Yuta put down his spoon then stared at her. "I want to be Jae and Cherry's dad." 

Her expression varied from surprised to confusion then to worry in a matter of seconds that he wanted to take back what he said. But then, he promised himself that he'll be brave and do this without any regrets. "Honestly, I feel like everyone already knows my feelings." He laughed to shake away the nervousness he's feeling. "Even Cherry knows about it." 

"I'm in love with you." He confessed that made her stop. "I guess I have been since middle school, I just refuse to believe it. When you went to Osaka, that's when I'm sure that I truly am in love with you." 

"Osaka? That long?" She asked quietly and he nodded. "So you knew when you went to Chicago?" 

Yuta laughed at the memory. "I do want to punch Johnny's face but he's so nice. And you seem really happy while looking at him." He smiled bitterly. "I figured I should let you go since you're happier with him so I asked my parents if I could go to Spain to train soccer. To forget about you at least." 

He held her hand that was on top of the table. "I never thought I would meet you again at Taeyong's wedding. Then this." He gestured to the two rooms where her children are at. "I want this, Y/N. This is what I wanted to be, a dad." 

Y/N slipped her hand away from him, "Don't, Yuta." She whispered and his face fell. He never thought about this rejection. "You have to date a single girl and have kids of your own, not like this." 

"How can I do that when all I can see is you?" Yuta shook his head. This is a hopeless conversation but he doesn't want to give up. “You said I'll be a great dad. Why can't I be your children's dad?" 

"Because Johnny is their dad." 

Yuta sighed. "I'm not planning to replace Johnny in their life. I just wanted to take care of them and give them my love." He explained. "Y/N, I love both Jae and Cherry, that's why I'm doing this. I honestly don't think I can ever love someone the way I love the three of you." He stood up. "Thank you for the meal. I'll clean the dishes." 

"Yuta…" she called, following him to the kitchen with her empty plate. 

He smiled at her, taking her plate then putting it on the sink. "Let's talk about this when I go back from Spain. Think about it and I'll ponder about it as well." Y/N sighed. "If you don't want to, I won't force you. Just remember that I'm here for the two of them, for you." 

Yuta sighed while cleaning the plates. He doesn't need to think about this. He knew he wanted this. All he had to think about is when she says no to everything. 

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Seven

[fruitcoops]

Hey, I love your writing! Could you maybe do like Marlene makes Sirius and Remus do the boyfriend tag for the lions media page and the questions are just a mix of cute, normal things and then really really not so cute normal things 👀

I may have gotten a little carried away with this ideas, whoops! There isn’t much ~spicy~ stuff here, but if you guys liked it I’ll do a part 2! Writing this was easily the best part of my day. Credit for Coops and Sweater Weather goes to @lumosinlove!

“Hello, everyone, I’m Dorcas Meadowes, and welcome back to Lion Pride!” Dorcas smiled at the camera and waved. “Today I’m here with team captain Sirius Black and our newest player, Remus Lupin, for the boyfriend tag. They’ll be asking each other a series of questions and they are legally obligated to answer honestly!”

“Wait, really?” Remus asked, his eyes wide.

“No, but it’s a good idea anyway.” Dorcas shuffled the small stack of notecards in her hands and passed half to each of them. “I’m here to supervise and clarify if you need it.”

“Alright, first question: how did we meet?” Sirius grinned. “Take your time on this one.”

“We met in the PT room before I was formally introduced to the team because Pots unscrewed the lids of the Gatorade bottles and the spout hit you in the eye.”

“Oh my god, I forgot about that!” Sirius turned to the camera. “Watch out, Pots, vengeance is coming.”

“Question number two,” Remus laughed. “If we’re going out to eat, where are we going?”

“Sid’s.” They said in unison.

“Number three: What’s one food I don’t like?”

Remus paused and bit his lip. “That’s a tough one. You’re kind of like a black hole for food. Uh, maybe pickles?”

“Yeah, I hate pickles.” Sirius shuddered dramatically. “Leave the poor zucchini alone.”

“Pickles are made from cucumbers.”

“Same difference.”

“No, it’s not!”

“Moving on!” Dorcas interrupted. “Remus, you’re up.”

“This is why we need a supervisor,” he said to the camera. “Okay, question four. How many siblings do I have?”

Sirius lit up and beamed at him. “One! Jules!”

“Your number-one fan,” Remus teased.

Sirius glanced down at the next card and barked out a laugh. “Oh, I’m going to get roasted so hard here. Am I a morning person or a night person?”

“You are the earliest early bird of all time and it’s terrible,” Remus groaned. “Six a.m. rolls around and he’s wide awake while I’m barely a person until eight, and that’s assuming I’ve had coffee.”

“You’re the cutest zombie I’ve ever seen at seven in the morning,” Sirius said.

“Aw, babe. Question six: what’s our song?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “Hmm, I don’t know.”

“I was going to say, I don’t think we have one yet.”

“We’re taking suggestions if anyone has ideas,” Sirius said to the camera. “What’s my best friend’s name.”

“Harry Potter,” Remus answered without hesitating. “You only like Pots for his baby.”

“True.”

Remus started to read the next card, then looked to Dorcas. “Do I have to ask this one?”

“Yes!”

“Cover your ears, everyone. What’s my nickname?”

“LOOPS!” Sirius shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “But to me it’s mon loup. What’s my weirdest habit?”

Remus dropped his face into his hands. “Your order of operations. To anyone out there who still thinks Sirius Black is cool—stop kicking me!—last night he got stuck in his t-shirt because he was brushing his teeth at the same time.”

“It’s efficient!” Sirius protested, poking him in the calf one more time. “You don’t appreciate me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Remus kissed him on the cheek. “Okay, what’s one of my special talents?”

“Hockey.”

“That doesn’t count,” Dorcas said.

“Bummer. You can sing really well.”

Remus’ ears went pink. “I don’t know about really well.”

“You do it all the time!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m good at it!” They both laughed until Dorcas cleared her throat.

“Sorry, sorry. Question number…something. If you were baking me a birthday cake, what flavor would it be?”

Remus snorted. “Bold of you to assume I can bake. But if I could, I’d do a vanilla cake with chocolate frosting.”

“You’d steal all the frosting off it, wouldn’t you.”

“Oh, definitely. Next question! Where was I born?”

Sirius was quiet for a solid ten seconds. “…Wisconsin?”

“What, the entire state?”

“I know you were born in a hospital.”

“Do you have any idea how many Wisconsin hospitals there are?”

“Well, you were only born in one of them.” Sirius shrugged. “I give up, what city?”

“I’m not telling you. You can call my mom and ask when we’re done here.”

“She’d tease me for days. I’ll get it out of you eventually.” Sirius shook his head and turned back to the cards. “Oh, here’s a good one: could you tell I liked you?”

Remus burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me? No!”

Sirius turned to face the camera. “If anyone out there doesn’t know the whole situation, we basically just stared at each other for, like, a year before anything happened.”

“I think the first time I started picking up on it was when I came back from vacation and got a fifteen-second hug from this one,” Remus said, pointing his thumb toward Sirius. “At that point I kind of went ‘…wait a minute’.”

“Let’s do the next question before you spill any more embarrassing stories.” Remus’ smile turned sharp. “Oh, no.”

“What was your first impression of me?”

“Hot.” Sirius’ eyebrows shot up. “Woah, I said that way too fast, didn’t I?”

“A little bit, but I appreciate it.”

“Are you comfortable with PDA?” Sirius looked over at Dorcas. In lieu of an answer, Remus scooted over on their shared couch and settled down in Sirius’ lap. “Hello.”

“Hi. As you can see, I can’t stand it if you even breathe on me in public.”

“God forbid we make eye contact.”

“In all honesty, I think we’ve already crossed the PDA bridge,” Remus said. “Once pictures of you and your boyfriend making out go viral, there’s really no incentive to tone it down. My turn: who’s my favorite musician?”

“Fucking ABBA.” Sirius let his head fall on the back of the couch. “Sorry, I mean ABBA.” Remus started whistling the intro to ‘Gimme, Gimme, Gimme’ and Sirius scrambled for his notecards. “What’s my favorite time of the year?”

It took Remus a minute to catch his breath from laughing. “Uh, fall. Autumn. We have the same favorite, actually.”

“It’s a great season. You get hockey, big sweaters, and there’s still a little bit of sunshine.”

“Halloween, too,” Remus added. “Oh, shit, you’re going to have a field day with this one. What word do I use the most?”

“Jeez.” Sirius gave him a big smooch on the cheek. “Such a Midwesterner. Where was our first kiss?”

“Pascal Dumais’ guest room, on a dark and stormy night,’ Remus said. “We got snowed in for Sirius’ birthday party.”

“It was really romantic though.”

“Yeah.” Remus planted a quick kiss on his lips before grabbing the next card. “Who would win in an argument?”

“What’s the argument about?” Sirius asked. “Dorcas, is there a specification?”

“I think we trade off,” Remus mused. “We don’t fight much.”

“Nah. Kissing or cuddling?”

“What about it?”

“Which one do each of you prefer?” Dorcas clarified. She hadn’t stopped smiling since the interview started.

“Ohhhhh.” Remus readjusted himself in Sirius’ lap so he was leaning against the armrest more. “I mean, both are great.”

“Agreed.”

“Last question for me!” Remus waved his final notecard in Sirius’ face. “How would you describe my style? Tread carefully, Cap.”

Sirius thought hard for a moment. “This is a dangerous question, Dorcas. Um, you’re going to hate me for this.”

“Spit it out, Black.”

“Sexy librarian?”

“Fuck off.”

“See! I told you!”

“Sexy librarian? Really? At least I own clothing other than monochrome t-shirts!”

“I have my game day suit, too.”

“…the suit is nice.”

Dorcas was laughing too hard to get them back on track, so Marlene had to motion at them from behind the camera. “Sorry, Marlene, we’ll finish up. Okay, Fruit Loop, am I a dog or a cat person?”

“I think you love dogs more than you love me,” Remus said. “You don’t hate cats, though.”

“First of all, that’s not true, I love you most.” Sirius kissed him soundly on the lips. “Second of all, Regulus is enough of a cat person for both of us.”

“I was genuinely afraid we’d come home and find out he’d adopted eight kittens while he was still living with us. Dorcas, is that it?”

“That’s it,” she confirmed, still dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Great job, you guys killed it. Thanks for watching everyone, and make sure to stay updated with Lion Pride social media!”

[flowercrown-bard]

A new us will begin (10/ ?)

word count: 6k

AO3

part 1   / part 2 / part 3  / part 4  / part 5 / part 6  / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 11

Slowly, the snow began to thaw as winter melted into spring.

Dandy had only asked him to stay for the cold months. There had never been any talk of Geralt staying any longer than that.

He did it anyway. No one mentioned it and maybe it was just Geralt’s imagination, but when the first flowers bloomed and Geralt was still with the troupe, the smiles they gave him were warmer and when Nadine hugged him one morning, before he went away for a bit for an easy contract, it felt like a hug that welcomed him to the family.

It took a while to convince Dandy that the contracts Geralt took while the others performed, were nowhere near as dangerous as his fight with the skullwarg. It took even longer until Dandy’s worry for him turned into giddy curiosity.

Dandy kept insisting that Geralt had to give him all the details of his hunts, so that he could stop worrying about him. Geralt gladly obliged.

There was a fluttering in Geralt’s chest like a bird’s wings, when Dandy first announced that he was going to write another play, this one about monsters and witchers.

Watching him work was like watching the sky change colours when the sun rose. Breathtaking, no matter how often he got to witness it.

Sometimes, Dandy dictated the lines his mind created to Geralt or one of the other players. Other times, he wrote them down himself, in a scrip that Geralt had never seen before. The rest of the troupe knew how to read it though, for Nadine read over Dandy’s scripts with a critical eye and gave suggestions where she saw fit.

More and more often, Dandy also asked Geralt for his opinion on what he was writing. His mouth formed a surprised “Oh” when Geralt reminded him that he didn’t know how to read what Dandy wrote.

From then on, Geralt spent most of their evenings after the performances or the fight scene rehearsals with Dandy, who taught him patiently how to read the way he did.

“Here,” Dandy said, when he was satisfied with Geralt’s progress on recognising individual letters. Out of a pocket in his coat, he produced a single sheet of paper and handed it to Geralt. “This was the first thing I ever wrote.”

Geralt hesitated, before unfolding the paper carefully. “You always carry this with you?”

Dandy hummed in affirmation. “I almost left it for my parents to keep. They were so proud when I finally learned to write and read. My mother actually cried and my father hugged me so tightly I thought he was going to break my back.”

A soft smile spread across Dandy’s lips and his fingers gently ran over the paper, tracing the word he had written there decades ago.

It did something strange to Geralt’s chest. “Why did you keep it then?”

“As a reminder. Of my parents.”

Geralt’s hands clenched and unclenched, not knowing what to do.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, placing one hand over Dandy’s. “I know you never mention them, but…if you want to talk about it…”

Dandy’s sudden laughter startled Geralt.

“Oh, no no, they aren’t dead or anything like that.” Dandy turned his hand to guide Geralt’s fingers to the thing he had written there. “Here, read that.”

Geralt did as he was told. “Leon Nowak, Baron of Whitecoast?” Geralt looked up at Dandy to see if he had read it correctly. Dandy beamed and pressed a kiss against Geralt’s cheek. It was a fleeting little peck, nothing more, but Geralt wished it would linger, wished he could just lean down and steal a real kiss from Dandy.

Instead he ran his fingers over the name again.

“Who is that?” Geralt asked.

“Oh.” Dandy waved his hand around, accidentally – or perhaps not so accidentally – swatting Geralt’s chest in the process. “That’s me.”

Geralt’s brows shot up. “You’re a baron? I thought you said you weren’t rich?”

“Well, it’s true. I’m not. My parents are.”

Geralt’s jaw clenched. “They didn’t disinherit you, did they? Because you’re…”

“No. Gods, no they would never do that.” Dandy looked affronted by the very notion. “If I wrote them a letter asking for money, they wouldn’t hesitate to send me a small fortune They even offered the troupe their patronage, should we ever be in need of it.” He let out a small, content sigh. “But I don’t want that. Don’t get me wrong, having money is nice and I love visiting them and not sleeping in a wagon or an inn for once. But I like earning my own coin. Even if it’s not nearly as much as they could give me.”

Geralt gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re good at acting. You seem happy when you’re on stage.”

“I am.” Pride tinged his voice that made Geralt’s heart flutter like a hummingbird’s wings. “It’s really important to me being able to do that.” He let out a short laugh. “I can’t say my parents weren’t worried when I announced that I wanted to travel, but they have supported me every step along the way until I could support myself.”

Geralt ran his fingers over the bumps and dots that were Dandy’s name once more. “They taught you how to write.”

“Eh, not exactly. They had no idea that this kind of script even existed. But they have wealth and influence and they love me enough to use it to get me the best tutor they could find. A sorceress, if you can believe it.”

Geralt’s breath hitched. “What? Sorceresses don’t just become tutors. They are at court or work for the lodge or –“

“Yeah, believe me, I have no idea why Philippa agreed to teach me.”

Geralt’s heart skipped a beat and his blood turning cold. “Philippa Eilhart?”

Dandy drew back in surprise. “You have heard of her?”

“I know her.” I asked her if reincarnation could be possible. I asked her if you could still be alive.

A strange expression flickered over Dandy’s face. “That makes a lot of sense, actually. She talked about you a lot. I always wondered by she kept insisting that should I meet a witcher I should go with him.”

Geralt’s mind was racing, unable to grasp what Dandy was saying.

“She said…that’s why you reacted like that when you found out I was a witcher.” The realisation hit Geralt like a punch, leaving him breathless. “When I told you who I was, you said you needed to think, but you didn’t hesitate to ask me to come back.”

Dandy scooted closer again. “I did. But, Geralt, believe me, I didn’t just ask you to come back because Philippa had told me to. I mean, that was a part of it, sure, but I also wanted to get to know you. And I’m glad I did.”

“I-yeah. I’m glad too.” His thumb caressed Dandy’s knuckles, a soft, soothing motion that was more for Geralt’s benefit than Dandy’s. There was too much to think about, too much he didn’t understand. How long had Philippa known that Geralt’s theory of the reincarnation had been true? And why had she agreed to tutor Dandy without telling anyone who he was?

Knowing that the sorceress had a hand in Dandy’s life, perhaps even orchestrating the way his life would go, left Geralt with a sense of unease. Especially since it was Philippa. The sorceress had never done him any intentional harm, but not once in the long time they have known each other, had she been open about her goals, always playing a different game than anybody else.

“Geralt?” Dandy asked tentatively, when Geralt had been quiet for too long.

Geralt forced himself to snap out of his crushing thoughts and put as much teasing as he could in his voice as he said, “I just have one more question. Why Dandy? Out of all the new names you could have chosen for yourself, why this?”

Dandy let out a bark of laughter, burying his face in Geralt’s shoulder. “I know. It’s a terrible name. In my defence, I didn’t exactly come up with it myself. Technically.”

Geralt chuckled. “It’s not a terrible name. I think it suits you.”

Dandy poked a finger in Geralt’s side with a little growl. “Don’t let Mika hear you say that or I’ll never get to hear the end of it.”

Geralt gave a questioning grunt to which Dandy replied with an overly dramatic sigh.

“You see, when I joined the troupe, I wanted to give myself a stage name.”

“Naturally.”

“Exactly! Good to know we’re on the same page.” Dandy stopped poking Geralt, instead sprawling his fingers across Geralt’s side. “I wanted to call myself Dandelion. You know, sort of as a little wink to my given name. Dande-Leon, as it were.”

Geralt didn’t even try to supress the snort. “That’s a terrible pun.”

“Ah the others agree with you there. No one appreciates my remarkable wit and humour.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “They kept teasing me about being all posh and a dandy when I first joined and somehow that name stuck. Oh, you wouldn’t believe how indignant I was when they started calling me Dandy, but…it was also nice. I’ve never really had friends that would tease me before. Maybe it was because no one wanted to piss off a baron or maybe they thought they needed to be extra careful with me because I’m blind. But the way the troupe talks to me and teases me…it makes me feel like I really, truly belonge.” He nuzzled closer into Geralt and Geralt wasn’t sure if he imagined the stifled sniffle. “And to be fair, Dandelion probably wouldn’t have been the best name.”

“I think it would be a fitting name,” Geralt said softly, stroking Dandy’s hair soothingly. “It’s always the yellow flowers with you, isn’t it?”

The words escaped him without thinking. Dandy’s brows furrowed in confusion, but then he snorted.

“I wouldn’t know about that, now, would I?” He tightened his hold on Geralt.

Geralt hummed in contemplation. “It still fits. My friend always used to wish on Dandelions. Just small things that would come true anyway. ‘I wish for the next performance to go well.’ Or ‘I wish that Roach will start recognising me as a friend and stop trying to bite my fingers.’”

Dandy’s shoulders shook with a chuckle. “Those sound like great wishes. Did they come true?”

“Hmm. He always said they did. But I am pretty sure he just snuck Roach treats behind my back until she started liking him.”

“Sounds like a wise man. If Roach didn’t already love me, I might have tried the same thing. But why would Dandelion be fitting for me then?”

“Because being here with you is everything I could have wished for.”

“You did it!” Dandy beamed with pride. “You read your first play!”

Geralt grunted, but Dandy’s joy was contagious. “With a lot of corrections and help from you. And it was a short play.”

“So?” Dandy nudged Geralt with his shoulder. “You still did it. I can’t believe you really learned to read like that for me.”

“It’s important to you.”

“It is,” Dandy agreed softly, before a sly grin spread over his face. “Now that you’re able to read my scripts, you will be able to learn the lines for your first role.” Mirth brightening his voice and he twirled his cane in excitement.

Geralt made a noise not unlike a startled horse. “My role? I don’t think so.”

“Ah, but my dearest Geralt,” Dandy drawled his name and leaned forward with a shit eating grin. “You promised me you’d play with me if I joined your lessons.” That cheeky bastard.

“I meant the lute.”

“Well, I didn’t. And I don’t have a lute.” He nudged Geralt playfully. “Now come on. I’d love to see you act.”

Geralt put up some more token resistance, but he still joined one mock-rehearsal the players put on, all of them cheering for Geralt to join them and read the lines of the witcher-character.

He felt ridiculous, trying to mimic the actors’ dramatic gestures and way of speaking. It hadn’t taken long until everyone agreed to never have Geralt act on an actual stage, but between his laughter, Dandy assured Geralt, that that was the funniest performance Dandy had ever had the pleasure to listen to.

From then on, the only times that Geralt read lines and tried his hand at acting, was when he helped Dandy practice his own lines by reading the other parts.

Geralt closed his eyes and hummed softly, as Dandy played with his hair.

It was a peaceful moment. Had anyone told Geralt a couple of months ago that he would get to have such moments again, he would have laughed in their face.

And yet, here he was, with Dandy, the man he fell in love with more with each day they spent together. Every morning when he woke up holding Dandy close, his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. Every time, Dandy laughed at Geralt reading his lines, Geralt wanted to taste that laugh with a kiss. Every time Geralt practiced reading the script Dandy had taught him and Dandy squeezed his shoulder with pride, the words ‘I love you’ burned on Geralt’s lips, begging to be spoken. He thought maybe, Dandy already knew.

It was moments like these, that Geralt was sure that he knew Dandy felt the same way, telling him with each touch he gifted Geralt and each word spoken softly between them.

It felt simultaneously strange, so familiar and right, lying with his head in Dandy’s lap, as if he belonged there.

The soft tug on his hair was soothing and nearly enough to lull him to sleep, but Geralt fought his heavy eyelids, unwilling to let this moment be taken away from him by sleep.

Softly, Dandy hummed the melody of the lullaby Geralt had taught him. It was a little off, since Geralt himself hadn’t been able to sing it right, but the melody was just as tender and tearing at his heart as it always had been.

Eventually, the song faded.

“What’s on your mind?” Dandy asked quietly, his fingers never stopping.

Geralt hummed quietly. “Who says that something’s on my mind?”

“There always is.” Dandy’s voice was full of fondness.

“Thinking about you.”

“A very good thing to think about,” Dandy teased and he tugged lightly on Geralt’s hair for emphasis.

Geralt didn’t know if it was the comforting feeling of Dandy touching him or the tone of his voice that loosened Geralt’s tongue and make him ask the question that had been burning at the back of his mind for months.

“Where did you get the inspiration for that play? The one about the pirate?”

Dandy’s hands stilled.

Months ago, Geralt would have begged him silently, please, remember me. Please remember that you loved me.

Now though, that voice inside his head was quiet. Geralt awaited Dandy’s answer with mere curiosity and not that desperation from before. Dandy didn’t need to remember his former feelings for him. It was enough that he was trusting Geralt and holding him dear enough to lie with him as they did now. Even if it turned out that it wasn’t what it had been before, it wouldn’t be any less perfect for it.

“I don’t know,” Dandy said finally. “It just came to me. Sometimes you just start writing and have no control over what comes out and it just felt right, writing that.”

Strangely, Geralt’s heart didn’t sink at that admission. Instead, he gave an acknowledging hum.

“Inspiration is a strange thing,” Geralt repeated what he had said once before, decades ago, when Jaskier had tried to explain to him why exactly it was so inspiring about watching Geralt fight.

Dandy let out a quiet laugh and resumed his ministrations.

“It sure is. And lately, I’ve found that I am chockfull of inspiration.”

Celebrating Belleteyn with the troupe was even more opulent than the festivities Jaskier had always dragged him too. And yet, it was nothing compared to the celebration that came about a week later.

The players pulled all the stops to make Dandy’s birthday truly unforgettable. With food, music and wine to spare, it would have been hard to believe that they were not-so-humble actors instead of nobles, if it weren’t for their total disregard of manners as they celebrated.

Dandy was blossoming in the attention like a flower in the sun. He was filled with so much palpable happiness that Geralt didn’t have the heart to refuse when Dandy grabbed his hand and asked him for a dance. It wasn’t one of those complicated danced with far too many steps to remember, that Jaskier had loved so much. It was but two people swaying in place, holding each other close. Geralt wasn’t sure if Dandy had chosen this dance because learning the steps to any of the elaborate dances was exhausting work for him, or because he liked holding Geralt close just as much as Geralt loved being near him.

That feeling in his chest was warm and fuzzy while they swayed and when Dandy rested his head against Geralt’s chest, he was sure he must hear his heart fluttering. Dandy’s hands on Geralt’s shoulders wandered a bit, playing with his hair and Geralt’s hands on his waist twitched in response, tugging him impossibly closer.

They slowed until they were barely moving anymore. Geralt couldn’t tell which one of them brought the dance to a halt first. All he could focus on was Dandy’s closeness.

Ever so slowly, Dandy lifted his head off Geralt’s chest, one of the hands leaving their place on Geralt’s shoulders and wandering up to cup Geralt’s cheeks.

Geralt leaned into the touch, like a drowning man leaning onto a piece of wood to keep him afloat. In this moment, he knew Dandy’s touch was the only thing keeping him from drifting away, from drowning in the miserable life he had led before Dandy.

“Geralt,” On Dandy’s lips, his name sounded almost like a plea, like a whisper of awe. “Thank you. For being here with me.”

“No place I’d rather be.” He had never meant anything more in his life. A soft smile spread across his lips. “My Dandelion.”

A small gasp escaped Dandy. His hand slowly trailed down until his thumb brushed against the corner of Geralt’s lips.

It wasn’t enough. Geralt wanted more, more, everything. He wanted Dandy. He wanted him to know that he was everything to Geralt.

Had their faces always been that close or had one of them moved closer?

Geralt’s heart sped up when Dandy tilted his head up a little. He was so close. All Geralt had to do was lean forward and capture Dandy’s lips in his.

“Geralt.” This time there was no mistaking that it was a plea.

They were so close that their breaths mingled. Geralt leaned forward and –

He froze, just before their lips could touch. He couldn’t do this. Not now. Not like this, with Dandy trusting him so openly to not even have his cane with him, just Geralt to guide him. But he couldn’t trust Geralt. Not when he lied and kept secrets and pretended that they were nothing more than two men who had found each other out of pure chance when there was something so much bigger and more terrible going on.

He pulled back and pretended that his heart didn’t shatter when Dandy’s face fell.

“I think we should join the others again,” Geralt said, his voice rough. “I’m sure Kara is sick of playing that slow song by now.”

“Oh,” Dandy said, his lips pressed into a thin smile that couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Yeah. You’re right. Still got a birthday to celebrate.”

Geralt led Dandy the few steps back from the makeshift dancefloor to the other players.

It shouldn’t have hurt when Dandy let go of Geralt and grabbed his cane again. The ache in Geralt’s chest dulled to a numb throb as Mika whisked Dandy away and brought back the smile that Geralt had stolen from Dandy.

Seeing Dandy happy again – singing and joking with his friends, letting them show him how much he meant to them – was beautiful, but Geralt couldn’t keep dark thoughts from creeping up at him.

He did his best not to let them show, to put cheer into his voice or not speak at all when it became too much, but Dandy noticed anyway. Of course he did.

Dandy didn’t mention it in front of the others, but he did take Geralt’s hand in his, holding it tightly and running his thumb over Geralt’s knuckles in a comforting gesture that soothed Geralt’s whirling thoughts, even though it wasn’t enough to fully keep them at bay.

“Do you want to get away for a while?” Dandy whispered, while Mika and Kara challenged each other to a drinking contest under the shouts and hollers of the others. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. I just don’t want you to feel bad.”

Geralt’s throat grew tight. “I don’t want to ruin this for you. This celebration is yours, you should enjoy it.”

“I’d enjoy it much more if I knew you were comfortable too.” Dandy squeezed his hand. “It’s fine if this is all a bit too much for you. I don’t mind going somewhere quieter. You know I love being alone with you just as much as I do being the centre of attention.”

“It’s not- it’s not that. It being too loud and too much. I-“ His voice broke off. He couldn’t say it. Not here, not while his friends were cheerful and happy.

Dandy let him take his time but Geralt could read the burning question on Dandy’s face. If it’s not too loud and too much, am I the reason why you’re miserable?

When Geralt didn’t continue, he tugged lightly at his hand. Geralt followed without any resistance, as he always would.

They didn’t walk far, simply putting some distance between the celebrating actors and themselves. They were still close enough to hear the cheering and singing, but it became background noise, same as the wind in the trees or the birds flying up above.

They sat down in the grass, Dandy laying his cane across his lap and pulling Geralt close, until his head leaned against Dandy’s shoulder.

A tremble went through Geralt’s body, as Dandy put an arm around his waist and held him tightly. So often, it was Geralt holding Dandy protectively, whether it was in his sleep or when sitting next to each other while talking. So rarely did Geralt get to feel like he was the protected one, like he didn’t need to carry the weight of the world on his own shoulder. But here Dandy was, offering to share the weight or at least have Geralt tell him just how heavy it was.

And so he did. The words came haltingly, as if a rope around his neck grew tighter with every attempt to speak. Dandy waited patiently for him to gather the courage to share his burden.

When he finally did, it felt both like he could breathe again freely for the first time that day, and as if the words were cutting into his own flesh.

“Today is the anniversary of a…friend’s death.”

Dandy stilled, his only movement came from his free hand plucking out grass nervously.

“Jaskier?” He asked, hesitating.

Geralt blanched. “How do you know that name?”

Dandy’s hand on his waist twitched. “It’s the name you said when you were hurt.” His voice was tight, but soft. “I don’t know if you recognised anything around you, but that’s the name you called out then.” He hesitated. “You say his name in your sleep too sometimes. Did you know that?”

Geralt’s mouth went dry. “I…what?”

A strange smile appeared on Dandy’s lips, too small to be a real one. “Just before you fall asleep. And sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, because you pulled me closer. You always ask me not to leave. And you always call me Jaskier.” The smile was still on his face, but now the stinging scent of salt pierced the air. “He must have been really important to you.”

“He was,” Geralt said quietly. “So are you.”

“But not like him.” Dandy let out a strained laugh that held no humour. “I don’t… I shouldn’t say that. Especially not today. I’m sorry. I should be comforting you. I didn’t mean to…to make it about me.”

“It’s always been about you.” Geralt only realised how his carelessly spoken words must have sounded, when Dandy winced and his hand retreated. Geralt’s hand shot out to stop him from pulling away. “Not like that. It…it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Geralt’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s not Jaskier who died that day. Not exactly.”

Different expressions flickered over Dandy’s face, as if he couldn’t decide which reaction to settle on. Finally, the uncertainty and confusion won out.

“What do you mean?”

An iron fist enclosed Geralt’s heart, squeezed until he thought he would burst. He couldn’t tell Dandy. He couldn’t put that knowledge, that burden, that pressure on him.

But with every second that Geralt hesitated, something crumbled in Dandy’s expression more and more. Geralt couldn’t begin to imagine what was going on in Dandy’s head, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything good.

Jaskier had sometimes cried in Geralt’s arms, thinking he wasn’t good enough, he was too loud, too much, too annoying for anyone to like him enough to stay with him for more than a night.

Yarrow had sounded so broken when he had asked Geralt to be his friend and then he had died alone.

Dandy was his own person, with his own struggles. And with his own doubts and the doubts of all the lives before pressing down on him. Geralt ruining his birthday, the day that should be a celebration of Dandy and nothing else, must have only made things worse.

The only thing Geralt could do to try and make this right, was tell him the truth and hope he didn’t destroy Dandy’s life with it.

He took a shaky breath.

“There was someone else. His name was Yarrow. He was…” Jaskier. You. “someone I met on Belleteyn.”

“Oh.” Dandy’s brows drew together. “You met during the feast of lovers. Is that what he was to you then?”

“No. I think he could have been. Or maybe we could have just been friends. Anything would have been better than what really happened.” When Geralt broke off, trying to find the right words, Dandy remained quiet, giving him all the time he needed. Time. The one thing Geralt hadn’t had with Yarrow. “We met in prison. I- We were both alone. He asked me to be his friend. I gave him some light and – I said we weren’t friends.”

Dandy’s breath hitched.

“Geralt,” he said slowly, a palpable tension in his voice. His body was rigid, not daring to move a single muscle. “You asked me about my first play. Geralt, why did you ask me about that play?”

Geralt closed his eyes, focussing all of his attention on Dandy’s hand in his, praying it wouldn’t be the last time that he would get to hold it, knowing that there was little chance Dandy wouldn’t tear it away when he knew what Geralt had hidden from him all this time.

“Because Yarrow and I were friends. In a different life.” His smile turned bitter as he quoted the final line of the play. “Long before I ever met Yarrow – lifetimes before – I was friends with Jaskier.”

“Friends?”

Geralt winced. “First and foremost friends. But also so much more.” His voice broke and he was sure Dandy could feel the tremor of his hand. “And when he died… I couldn’t let go of him. Somehow he came back to me, only the gods know why. He wasn’t the same, but he was. Yarrow wasn’t a bard. He was an artist. But he was Jaskier.”

When he opened his eyes again and glanced at Dandy, afraid what he would find, he saw Dandy’s lips tremble. “Geralt. Why did you call out Jaskier’s name when you were hurt? It was… it wasn’t just you being delirious, was it.”

“No.” Geralt’s throat grew tight, the noose around his neck becoming tighter with every word and yet, he kept going. “When I woke up, I thought I saw him. It was you, of course, but…”

“But it was also him.” Dandy’s voice was completely void of emotion. “Geralt, you don’t think that I’m Jaskier, do you?”

It wasn’t a question. Not really.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt whispered.

This was it. This was when Dandy would pull away his hand as if burned and tell Geralt to leave.

Instead, Dandy’s hand tightened its hold on Geralt, clutching him almost hard enough to hurt.

“What are you sorry for?” Dandy asked carefully.

Geralt looked away, unable to watch Dandy’s face twist in anger.

“I’m sorry because I couldn’t save them. Jaskier, Yarrow, all the other ones. They…they all died. I could have prevented it, I could have done something, but I didn’t even know who they were and then I saw you and –  I couldn’t let you die. Not again.”

Dandy’s face did something complicated. The hand not held in Geralt grasped his cane so tightly that Geralt could see the white of his knuckles.

“Geralt, please answer this honestly. Why did you agree to stay with me?” He blinked furiously, but the salt smell only got stronger. “Is it just because I look like him? Because a play I wrote was similar to something that happened to you? Because while you’re with me you can imagine that I’m someone else, someone more important to you?”

“Dandy.” The name tasted like a storm on his tongue, waiting to get unleashed. “You are important to me.”

“Then why? If you think I’m Jaskier and you loved him – if I am important to you, why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Because I love you.”

There was no storm. Only the frightening calm, the fear of what was to come, the terror of having already destroyed all there was.

Geralt’s breath came ragged, while Dandy stilled completely.

“I love you,” Geralt repeated, his voice breaking on the last word. “Which is why I can’t kiss you and lie to you.”

“Because... you only love me because I am him?” Dandy looked so small, so helpless.

Geralt closed his eyes, letting his face fall. “That’s exactly what I was afraid of. That you would think that.”

“It’s not the truth then? You didn’t love Jaskier?”

“I did,” Geralt said sincerely. “I always will. I would have loved him in any lifetime. But I also love you. For being you.”

Geralt shifted so that he was no longer sitting next to Dandy, but facing him.

“I love watching you go on stage and silence an audience with your performance. I love listening to you sing with your friends, as if music was more beautiful to you when shared. I love that you still hum that lullaby for me all on your own, even if you still get the melody wrong.” His voice became thick with emotion, but he couldn’t let himself stop. Not before Dandy knew it all. If he still decided to leave then, at least he would know what Geralt saw when he looked at him. “I love that you fiddle with your cane when you’re nervous or content. I love that you wear ridiculous hats and curl your hair. Jaskier did none of those things. And I love them still, because they are a part of who you are, my Dandelion.”

He prayed Dandy would still be his after this. His friend, if nothing else. Because no matter what, Geralt would always be Dandy’s.

Hesitantly, his free hand came up to Dandy’s face, hovering just above it, close enough that Dandy would be able to feel its heat. For a terrifying moment, Geralt thought Dandy would jerk away, but then he leaned into the touch, turning his head just enough to press a kiss against Geralt’s palm.

“Dandelion…” The name was naught but a breath on Geralt’s lips. A breath like the one a drowning man sucked in when he realised that he was saved.

“Are you sure?” Dandy asked softly.

“That I love you? I have never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“That I’m Jaskier. I- please, Geralt, I need to know that you are absolutely certain.”

“I am. I’m sorry.” Even while he said it, he could see Dandy think of every interaction they ever had, viewing it all in a new light. Dandy’s lips parted and Geralt could practically see the pieces of Dandy’s life slot into place, creating the same picture Geralt had seen since he had met him.

Philippa telling Jaskier to go with Geralt, should he ever meet him. The inexplicable burst of inspiration that had driven him to write his first play. The nearly immediate trust he had put in Geralt. The rhythm he sometimes tapped out and that Geralt just so happened to recognise.

Perhaps there were more puzzle pieces that Geralt had never seen. Strange memories that Dandy had never shared with him but that made more sense now than they ever had.

Whatever details of his life Dandy was thinking about, Geralt could see the moment the uncertainty changed into total conviction. For some reason Geralt couldn’t dare explain, Dandy didn’t draw back, didn’t yell at him, didn’t push him away. Instead, something soft and warm spread across his face; the sun breaking through the stormclouds.

“And you love me.”

“With all my heart.”

“And when I die, I will come back to you again?”

Geralt’s insides went cold. “Dandy, don’t- I’m not going to let you die.“

Dandy’s quiet laugh interrupted him. “That’s sweet, but I’m afraid it’s inevitable. Just, tell me. Will I come back?”

A muscle twitched in Geralt’s jaw. “I think so. I’m sorry, I don’t know why or how, but somehow we are bound to each other. You always come back and sooner or later I find you.”

“That’s good. I would hate for the man I love to be alone again.”

“Dandy –“

He never got to finish what he was going to say, for Dandy let go of the cane, finding the back of Geralt’s neck again and bringing him closer to him.

Their first kiss was little more than a tentative brush of lips against each other, Dandy searching him and Geralt not quite believing what was happening, not yet understanding that he could have this.

Dandy pulled back again, just enough to be able to speak. “Geralt? Just to make this clear, I love you too. I love that you saw me at my most vulnerable but you still don’t think that I need help in everything I do. I love that you are a terrible storyteller and an even worse actor. I love that you tell me of your contracts and help me with rehearsals even so. I love the way your scars feel beneath my fingers and I love the way you don’t let me go in the mornings, even when you wake up first.” He drew in a breath and pressed their foreheads together. “I love that you can love me for me.”

Geralt let out a wet laugh, unable to blink back the burning in his eyes or fight down the tightness in his chest.

“You just had to make a better declaration of love than I did,” he said, too full of emotion to even attempt a teasing tone.

“Of course.” Dandy darted forward, stealing another kiss that felt more like a gift. “You know I can’t let a chance to be dramatic pass by.”

Geralt hummed, his hands tracing Dandy’s face, his thumb caressing his bottom lip.

“And that’s another thing I love about you.”

“Careful,” Dandy said teasingly, pressing a kiss against Geralt’s thumb. “If you keep making such dramatic declarations yourself, I might consider putting you on stage again in the role of a lover.”

“The point of theatre is that it isn’t real,” Geralt repeated Dandy’s favourite opinion. “This is real.”

Dandy surged forward, pressing a sweet kiss against Geralt’s lips.

“It’s better than any play I could ever write.”

[emerald-amidst-gold]

for anyone you'd like, maybe 2, 17, 19, 30? 👀

YOU! IT'S YOU! The one who hath done me a great service! >:D *sends all the hugs!* So, you wish to hear me ramble some more, do you? Welcome to the fountain that is my fingers then! Let's talk about some children! >:3

2. Is your oc picky about food? What kinds of foods do they like and dislike? What do they consider a comfort or “safe” food?

Can I tell you something about Fane and food? He loves it when he makes himself eat it. The boy literally doesn't eat sometimes because one: his stomach is in constant distress due to vomiting almost every morning (doesn't happen all the time, but enough to cause some damage), and two: he believes he doesn't deserve to enjoy food, so when he does eat and actually finds comfort with it, his appetite disappears. However! That means Fane isn't especially picky about his food! He does have favorites though! I'll list them!

Likes:

Meat (any kind, really, but Fane does enjoy ram and deer meat especially.)

Fruit (mainly apples, has fond memories of them and he likes the CRUNCH.)

Nuts (particulary almonds because they have a sweet after taste and CRUNCH.)

Dried meats (Fane likes the rip and tear action when eating them and it gives himself something to continuously gnaw on.)

Cakes, cookies, pies, etc. (He likes bite sized cakes. Yes, frilly cakes. Blame Solas. He adores peanut butter cookies. Bonus if there's any chocolate on them. And he really, really likes blueberry pie! Again, sweet!)

Dislikes:

Spicy foods of any kind (Snow dragon + spicy foods = DEATH TO EVERYONE WITHIN A FIVE MILE RADIUS. Also, tongue goes bleh and then he can't taste anything for a while.)

Vegetables (Fane eats vegetables sparingly. The boy is a DRAGON, not a rabbit.)

Bitter foods (the exception to this is coffee and dark chocolate which Fane can't live without.)

Impartial to cheese (Fane's okay with cheese, but the tang makes him scrunch up his nose most of the time. Especially Orlesian made cheeses.)

All in all, Fane is pretty plain jane. He eats to survive, and it isn't until later in the story that he learns that he can enjoy food and not be guilty about it.

17. If your oc had a social media page, what would it be like? What would they post about? How much personal information would they feel comfortable posting on it? How often would they update it?

AHAHAH! Fane? Social media?! Honestly, Fane would be that type of person that makes a social media page just to shut up someone else! They'd be like, "You should do this! It's the big thing right now!" Meanwhile, five thousand year old dragon is like, "I don't understand any of this shit. Why is half the words abbreviated?! A ten year old is on here?! This world is fucking trash." Secretly, Fane is a lurker and would just have a page to snoop on other people and silently rag on them. Not directly trolling, but he'd be like, "Solas, come here. These people are fucking ridiculous! Like who the hell thinks it's okay to eat soap?! Where the hell did we go wrong?!" and Solas is just happy Fane's found a hobby that doesn't involve destroying a wall.

So, really, Fane would only have page to have a page. He wouldn't personalize it nor would he put any information besides his name on it. And if anything, Fane would be a meme lord and just post memes all day long. He resonates with them, he thinks. Also, A LOT of dark humor. Fane is...intense. Let's leave it at that. Pfft.

19. How would an enemy describe this oc?

Absolutely terrifying. I mean, do you want a six foot, athletic muscled, white haired, two toned eyed, great sword wielding, and a penchant for kicking elf-dragon bearing down on you? With eyes that seemingly shift and morph into different colors and a snarl from elven lips that made you think there was actually a dragon about to snap your head off? Or a boot that slams into a breastplate so hard that it cracks pure silverite down the middle? Do you want to watch as a pale face that looks dark with battle induced anger and adrenaline twist from an ancient insanity that put most 'madmen' to shame? Do you want to see the blood splatter across that same face, eyes dark and bright all at once as one of your fellows is cleaved in two and all that face does is watch with utter boredom until those two toned eyes land on you? Do you want to feel the sensation of dread, panic, and pure terror as a large frame that shouldn't be able to move with such graceful, fluid movements, but does as it slams you into a wall, once sturdy bricks crumbling to fall upon you as those same soul delving eyes just watch without missing a beat?

Do you want to die with a hand in your chest as a spectral, blue claw splits your chest open, letting you observe and accept that the end is near? No? Well, then, don't dance with the Dragon of the Dread Wolf unless you know the steps. *tips my hat* Good day.

30. Tell a random fact about this oc!

Random fact, random fact...hmm. Ah! Well, just for a little treat, a little tease for late story, I'll share something that'll make for some speculation, but won't give anything away. *clears throat*

Fane has the capacity to harness a portion of an Old God's soul. *smiles pleasantly before walking away*

And there we are! :D Thank you for the ask! Always love them! <3

[gerlat-apreciation]

Vampiric Protectors Part 2

Geralt wakes up to a hideously mangled monster, intestines thrown about like streamers in a party, and a heart resting by his foot. While deep claw marks were buried in the wall ranging from light and barely there to deep and attention seeking, rubble and blood flooding about every sense he had.

Trying to remember what the strange figure who seemed to dance with the shadows itself even remotely looked like, he was rewarded with a terrible headache and a newly throbbing skull. Suddenly he seemed to do something right looking at the walls and the mangled corpse because he remembered a figure who looked suspiciously like his vampiric friend but much healthier. He thought of how shitty his friend looked while working to find Dettlaff.

The figure was kneeling over him, hand tightly wrapped around his thigh and features more human than when he leaped from the wall randomly, like an asshole. Who leaps from walls?

Saving that memory for later, Geralt returned to what the hell happened when he passed out. He really needed to pay better attention to things.

———

Kneeling over him, hand tightly wrapped around his thigh, deep black eyes locking with cloudy gold, watching him frantically.

“Are you well?”

“Who..”

They both spoke at the same time,interrupting each other. While the quite obvious higher vampire was stunned from his voice, Geralt took the time to speak.

“M’ fine.. would be better if you gave me that gold potion, left pocket, smells like fish. And the clear one, smells like honeysuckle..” In an attempt to hurry the stranger along in helping him, he didn’t want to pass out again.

The vampire scrambled to do just that, keeping a hand on his bloody thigh, a cloth wrapped around his nose. Geralt thought it strange but didn’t have the energy to comment on it at the time. Suddenly a potion glass at his lips shook him out of his stupor, Geralt grunted in thanks before downing the potions with the aid of his now strange friend..? Friend.

“Is there anything else I can aid you with little wolf?” The vampire breathed through his mouth, nostrils flaring at the sour smell of his blood. His voice was pleasant, deep with an accent like Regis’, he liked Regis’ voice, and could listen to it for hours while he talked about whatever. Geralt apologized under his breath, Regis told him how rancid his potions were.

“Nah.. m good. White Honey’ll do the most of the work, thanks..” Geralt slurred a lazy concoction of speech to stop thinking about the old bat. The Witcher used the time the vampire was looking for his potions to take in the strangers features.. dark hair, mutton chops, and smelled like blood. Yep.. this was Regis. But younger. Fuck.

Geralt was proven correct soon after

“My name is Emiel Regis Rohlec Terzieff-Godefroy, as you can probably tell, I am a higher vampire of the Garasham tribe.” Regis pressed a bloody hand to his doublet clad chest, motioning to himself while probably staining it with his blood. “And you are?” His nailed hand moved towards the witcher, smooth and graceful. Geralt had always admired how fast and predatory vampires were, respected it as well. It was impressive, and plain damn attractive how strong they were.

Once the vampire raised a thin, regal brow he collected himself once more to reply.

“Geralt of Rivia, Witcher,” He said simply as Regis seemed to go through multiple stages of surprise, amazement, disbelief, and belief before he murmured a simple

“cool.”

Geralt started laughing as soon as Regis looked displeased with himself. Shoulders shaking and lips spreading in a closed smile as his throat tried to release the sound from itself, his gritty huffs soon had him groaning, holding the offending neck with one hand. The Witcher returned his gaze to the vampire, who had a wide grin on his face.

“Enjoying yourself little wolf?” He purred, voice a smooth roll, like the first wave of an ocean being overlapped by another, coming together to make a beautiful scene with calming sounds. Geralt grunted in reply, dragging himself back so he could lean against the wall.

“Watching me, vampire?” He hummed, casting the other a dry look, the other cringed. This was a dangerous change of subject given he had no idea how this Regis acted.

“Ah.. perhaps.. I found very quickly after seeing you that you casted my interest, you smell delightful.. I could just..” Regis’ teeth bare, and he starts to lean forward.

Geralt's heart kicks up from its slow beat, and he wraps a hand around his sword, as soon as Regis lunges at him. He pressed his eyes closed, tense as a siren after a horn blow.

..

.

His body registers the curved nose of Regis pressing his nose against his throat, and smelling.

“What the fuck Regis-“

It was Regis’ turn to laugh now, soft and kind, with an undercurrent of predatory dominance that sent sharp shivers down Geralt’s spine alongside the tame breaths against his exposed clavicle. He pulls away and Geralt finds himself missing the cool breaths.

“Ah.. this was fun, my dear. But I believe you need some rest, it’s required for humans to rejuvenate, is it not?” He tilts his head, black hair falling to the left as he cups his palm against Geralt’s cheek, thumb swiping against the underside of his eye, rubbing the scar gently.

“Aw fuck- don’t tell me you’re gonna-“

And then he was asleep.

——-

So that was what happened.. that headache was worth it, Geralt thought, grabbing his sword and standing, taking the time to sheathe it and grab the heart that was resting at his foot, it would make a good trophy, even if the zeugl he needed to kill wasn’t dead.

Knowing Regis it probably was dead, but he needed to make sure.

Pulling himself up into a platform that, by the smell of it, led him back into the sewers. To pass the time he checked his potion vials, making sure everything was well and in place. He double took when he saw the zeugl, it’s entire head resting over the hole where he fell. What the hell, Regis.

Geralt heaved a heavy sigh, and cut out a tooth from it, and made his way back to the village to receive his pay.

**

A few days have passed since then, and the Witcher had taken up residence inside a nearby inn, after completing two more contracts to pay for it and a good few meals. He hasn’t been interrupted by a certain drunkard vampire as of yet, but he was probably being watched. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would, it was comforting almost, that Regis would come in anytime he loses control of a situation or contract.

Currently, Geralt was reclined on a sofa, wrapped in various furs and reading a book in front of the fireplace with a platter of various cheeses and grapes at his side, along with a wonderful goblet of wine the inn owner imported from Toussaint. Witchers here were treated surprisingly well, and Geralt was soaking it in as much as he could, enjoying every moment and every ounce of respect he received for his profession. It was pleasant, that was for sure.

Suddenly, there was a crackle, one of pure power that had Geralt flinging himself over the side of the couch, cheese platter flying everywhere and wine probably staining the soft velvet cushions, and there was a smell that he finally processed as soon as he saw the teal magic forming into a person, snow and lemons. It was Ciri, his pup, his baby. Geralt instantly smiled and lowered his blade, when the projection of Ciri cleared

“You seem to be enjoying yourself” Ciri chuckled, looking around the room with interest.

“Ah.. just got back from a few contracts, it’s nice here.” He hummed, going back to the front of the couch to clean up the cheese that found itself implanted into the walls in front of it.

“I hope I didn’t give you too much of a fright?” Her voice sunk in embarrassment.

“Scared the fuck out of me.” Geralt said simply, prying some cheddar from a brick and plopping it onto his tongue.

“Ew, dad,” Ciri groaned, covering her eyes in disgust, Geralt started laughing.

“Hmm.. Cidaris cheddar.. hints of brick but that’s okay.. nice sharp flavor..cow was in good heath—-“

“Geralt! I didn’t come here for a visit” Ciri wheezed, bending over at the hip to try to regain herself. Once she did she continued “We need to find out what world you are in, so you can come home.”

Geralt sat back down, gathering the furs around himself once more, like a little nest, and hummed. “Already have a good idea, everything’s younger here, I met Regis earlier.. he was blood drunk. Or.. buzzed at least” The Witcher trailed off, turning his gaze to his book.

“You’re in the past?” Ciri tilted her head, and Geralt shrugged

“Dunno.. just found a younger Regis. He saved me from an Arachas.” The Witcher grabbed his book and opened it, turning the pages downward where he left off and returning his full attention to Ciri

Ciri, who now sat cross legged on the floor, nodded. “Just give us a bit longer, I’m still regaining energy, you should be able to come back soon, I’ll find you this time, okay?” His pup smiled at him, and for a moment he saw that little girl who forced them to do tea parties, and forever ruined the way he holds teacups. He could feel his pupils dilating with pure adoration at the other.

Geralt nodded “thanks” he said simply, as Ciri obviously noted the change in his pupils, considering she went wide eyed and cooed at him like a mother looking at a toddler, he cringed.

“Your eyes! Awe Geralt-“ she whined, laughing and shaking her head. Geralt fought back an embarrassed blush.

“Yeah yeah..”

“I love you, dad” Ciri said, firmly and in complete seriousness and suddenly, out of nowhere, Geralt felt an odd knot in his throat.

“Love you too, Ciri” he choked, looking at the other with glassy eyes. His head was filled with a mantra of don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry, and various curses.

Ciri’s smile grew, if it was possible, and she nodded, and as soon as that happened, it was over and Geralt was left staring at the spot she was at, clawing for composure.

A few minutes later his mutations took a firm hold of the offending emotions in a chokehold, and body slammed them back into the void. Where they should be. And Geralt is left feeling hollow. He returns to his book, just as the sound of glass breaking moves him into a shock.

Now, Geralt could tell you right now that this was a bad place to get suddenly attacked. He had no armor besides his white undershirt and his tight form fitting black pants. He wasn’t even wearing shoes , and he was tangled up in various furs to keep him warm. His sword was behind the couch, and he had nothing to defend himself with.

That is why, when he got grabbed by moving smoke like some bride to be on wedding day, he snarled, and raised the book above his head to attack. Not soon after it was pried out of his hand and into the fire.

“FUCK-“ Geralt yelled, attention momentarily diverted to the loss of knowledge to the hungry flames casting mischievous shadows across the room, but that seemed to be enough time for the vampire, inhumanly fast, to jump out the window.

On the third floor of a building.

To say Geralt was angry, was an understatement.

But there was only so much to do when you had tendrils of smoke blocking everything. It was all he saw, smelled, heard, and was able to touch. But he was gratefully able to feel the main issue, an arm wrapped under his knees, and another around his back, pressing him close to a thin chest. Though, the smoke didn’t seem to be just smoke, considering when he struggled (which he couldn’t do much of in the first place considering how strong his kidnapper was) the smoke seemed to press him still as well. Wrapping around him like a- he didn’t quite know how to describe it. But it did smell of anise, wormwood, basil, sage, and cinnamon.

What the fuck, Regis.

Before he knew it, Geralt was plunging through another window, thankfully this one was opened, and directly into a large bed. Regis, still in his smoke form, darted out the window as it slammed shut.

Geralt sat up, processing for a moment what the hell just happened. And then where he was now.

Where he was now seemed to be a very large room, about the size of the entire inn he was in, with a large oak door, with a steel door knob, latched firmly in place with what seemed to be a spell casted on it, if that was why his medallion shivered when he neared it. Close to the door was tapestries, hanging on each side, faded and worn with age. They depicted vampires drinking from humans under the moonlight, covered in blood and garlic and looking piss drunk.

By the tapestries, bookshelves lined the walls which were made of firm stone, filled to the point of overflowing with books and scrolls of varying size and weight. These seemed to be the main thing filling the wall on the left side, as the only other object there was a wardrobe to the direct left of the large bed. Inside it was various outfits, mostly silken robes but held the odd cotton shirt and pants there. All in wonderful condition, bordering on brand new. Geralt sighed and slammed it shut, seemed it was planned for him to stay awhile. He crossed to the right side of the room, and that was when he noticed the bed was about a step higher than the rest of the room, covered in silk blankets and furs, with two large curtains on each side of it, looking at the floor around it.

Regis seemed to be aiming to spoil him. How sweet. Thought the Witcher, sarcasm and annoyance boiling his blood and filling his mind.

Returning to exploring the right side of the room, there were more bookshelves, the large stained glass window depicting once again a vampire symbol, but this time it was the Garasham tribe symbol. It was quite well done, and was so large the moonlight lit it all the way to the other side of the room, across the bed, casting colors of blue, green, brown, and red everywhere. The window seemed to take up most of the wall, and was made of a thick glass, Geralt had no high hopes of breaking it. Around the large window, was two candle filled tables, nothing special.

To the right of the bed, against the wall that lays against its headboard, is a door that leads to a bathroom, a lot like the one he saw in Vizima when he met up with Emhyr.

Geralt groaned, and grabbed a random book, sitting on the bed, which was heavenly soft but he would never admit it aloud, while suddenly missing the weight of his swords as he wrapped himself up once more with the many furs covering it. He leaned against the pillows and headboard and got to reading, with only the candle and moonlight to light the letters.

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i am very much enjoying my vague void! it's currently blasting hozier at full volume and that's almost louder than my internal screaming (don't worry, everything is fine, i just saw a spider)

i've never once in my life have followed a recipe correctly. all of my measurements are completely random and whatever happens happens. it is no longer in my hands. whatever eldritch entities exist take the wheel. and i absolutely refuse to spell anything in english without autocorrect because y'all have way too many double letters and random vowel placement

thank you! sadly, i won't have a break right now, because we just had christmas vacations, but the start of the new semester is always pretty chill. and you're absolutely right, i should take up necromancy! the snow and the cold will add to my mysterious vibes. i just need to get a big black cape with a hood to complete the aesthetic

i definitely picture everything above 5'6 feet as the same height. 5'7 and 6'2? the exact same thing. no difference here

how is morepork a real bird name. it's just... more pork? but the bird is magnificent. i completely approve of your first order as bird queen, not that you need approval from mere peasants like me, but it's a great order. ohhh salps look really cool, and it does look a lot like it! when you said boob implant i thought of mermaids and them using salps as boob implants but then i realised wait wouldn't jellyfish be better for that? because of their shape? ignoring their little leggies they're quite boob shaped, no? and then i realised that i was thinking about mermaids and alive boob implants... if i had to think it, you have to read it. i'm sorry

i was sold before but now i'm even more sure that i want to hire you. and I'll make sure to have lactose free cheese for the backflips (unless you want the lactose version? i'm not judging). will the biting of ankles cost extra?

that sounds like a brilliant set-up for a horror movie where they kill off all the children one by one. it's absolutely horrifying. if something like that would've happened to me i would've most likely just passed out. whatever happens afterwards is not my problem. and now i really don't want to know what the hell your leg was caught on because that seems like knowledge that would get me killed

ah so you're a fellow dirt eater? according to my mom my favourite thing to do outside when i was a little kid used to be eating sand. just shovelling handfuls of it into my mouth and crying when my mom made me spit it out. which i refuse to believe. if there are no photos it didn't happen

you warm climate people are starting to make me think that i'm better adjusted to the cold than i thought i am! it's either that or our buildings are better heated. i definitely don't know if anyone else calls hot water bottled hotties but i like it so from now on i'm using it

that's so cute! i was clearly a way more selfish child because when i found any amount of money i just kept it and bought candy as soon as i could. i clearly couldn't save money then and i can't now. we have stores like that (or i'm assuming that they're like that solely based on how they sell lollies) and they used to be my favourite thing because you could get so many lollies for such a small price!! and my mom even used to let me order for myself sometimes so i always felt like a very big girl jsjshsbsjk

also the fact that i can't send pictures on anon is a crime (yes i know why and it's good that that's not possible because can you imagine anons being able to send pictures? oh no is all i have to say about it) but anyways. because i have this one super cursed photo that reminded me of you and now i can't share it :((

duuuuude, sick void bro. sounds like a vibing void. I feel like I haven’t seen a spider in awhile. Other than daddy long legs. But they’re chill. They mind their own business. 

I nearly always follow recipes exactly. My mum is like oh cook this for about 7 minutes? Yeah sure. I’ll take a wild guess. I’m like they say exactly 7 minutes so I’ll set a timer for 7 minutes and start a stopwatch so if it does seem to need more than 7 I can keep an eye on the extra time and be aware of exactly how long it takes me for next time. Other people are like oh let's see I have [lists 5-10 things in their fridge], hmm...oh I know what I could make with that! I’m like I have beans in my freezer because one recipe required them and no other recipes I know how to make do so what am I supposed to do with these now,,, this is stressful,,, basically I barely know how to cook and recipes are the only things saving me in that area. That is entirely fair. Except for the fuck duck, and murder is not the word you want surely, situations, it’s pretty helpful.

Ohhh I see. At least the start is chill! For a little! Before your entire situation spirals out of hand and you’re behind in every class and it’s taken you a whole day to read 10 pages and you’re exhausted and it’s only week 2. Just me? ok. fair. anyway. I want a cloak so bad. One of my uni friends tempted me to class because she said she was wearing a cloak so my depressed ass honest to god dragged myself out of bed and to said class just to see it. It was worth it. They’re incredible. Everyone should own a big cloak for the aesthetic.

I’m glad it isn’t just me hahaha. I can visualise my own height in feet but everything else is just the same size that is a vague amount taller than me, mentally.

It’s also known as the ruru. But the name morepork amuses me. It’s named after the call it makes haha. It does sound like it’s asking for more pork if you know to listen for that. thank u for ur approval, it means a lot, turns out becoming bird queen didn’t ACTUALLY get rid of my anxiety disorder weirdly enough so validation is great! lmaooo. What if the jellyfish stung them tho? At least salps wouldn’t do you dirty like that. The mermaids would just look like there are hundreds of bugs crawling around in their boobs, flesh shifting as they float around. Which is a vibe. If you’re into that. Jellyfish WOULD make a more solid, single, implant, some of them are definitely boob shaped. But that’s kinda boring no one’s gonna be traumatised by that. Salps on the other hand...yeah, that sight will DEFINITELY traumatise someone.

To be PERFECTLY honest I haven’t done a backflip in years but for lactose-free cheese? Dude. I’ll be going back to training. Gonna be the best backflip you’ve ever seen. As long as it’s not Tasty cheese I am content, but lactose free IS better. The biting of ankles will not cost extra, it is a pleasure to be allowed to do that.

Oh it absolutely would be. It’d be very funny if it reached the wider world bc people would probably be like ok but who would send kids into the bush like that,, it’s an odd concept. meanwhile everyone who grew up in nz is gonna be like y’all, you’re not gonna fuckin BELIEVE what i experienced growing up, it’s real dude. On one hand, I feel like murdering kids in a movie is questionable, on the other hand, It exists, so maybe people would be down for it. I feel like it’d be a good concept even if it wasn’t murdery tho. Like psychological horror? I’m not sure if I’m using that category correctly I don’t watch much horror. A kid following the rope but then being shifted into a different horror dimension but they never take the blindfold off because their teachers said not to and they’d probably have to let go of the rope to do it...I feel like this could work super well as a short film. The viewers see everything. The child just knows something is off and no one is coming when they call for help. I am so down for this. I also do not want to know what my leg was caught on. Some things I am better off not knowing.

yes! I am a fellow dirt eater! We had a sandpit at home (that’s a little bold. It was a large plastic shell that my parents filled with sand. technically a sandpit. but not fancy sdflsdkfsdf) but I don’t think I ever tried to eat it. Then again, I possibly did and just don’t remember because there’s no photo evidence of that one. I’d have to ask my parents sdfhsjdfs, I would however fully believe them if they said yes. it’s very characteristic of me. I don’t doubt it for a second. muuuum that’s my emotional support sand don’t make me spit it out smh the disrespect these days.

Oh I’m absolutely terrible even by most people’s standards around here when it comes to cold and hot temperatures. I remember sitting in the sun in my school shirt and school jersey in summer on a blazing day like it’s a bit chilly, isn’t it? Meanwhile my friends were in the shade absolutely dying from the heat. Likewise in winter I’d be shivering, teeth chattering, dying with my long sleeve thermal, my school shirt, my school jersey, my school jacket, my longs, warm socks and sneakers and gloves and school scarf while ppl would be walking around in a shirt and shorts like it’s a bit warm this winter huh? my body didn’t learn how to thermoregulate and it shows. But yeah NZ does also have a reputation for shittily insulated buildings and such. It shows. skhdfsfs if it’s not common use maybe don’t say can i have a hotty to someone without context but otherwise go ahead lmao. it’s a fun shortened version.

I was typically a very good saver, to the point where my extended family started gifting me gift cards and vouchers for Christmas and my birthday because if they just gave me money I’d put it in my bank account to save towards uni once I hit like, 12 years old. Which I think was a smart move. But apparently, I’m supposed to buy myself ‘something nice’ with it. I think I’m still an okay saver but I’m not as strict anymore. I’m aware of how much I can spare and I’m not just like you can never get anything for yourself ever, so I do get lil things for myself sometimes. oooo yay! At least you know what I mean. But yes. They were the gold mine for lollies. Absolutely terrific stores. My mum would be like hey lindsey how about you order? And I’d be like mother, I am 7 years old and I have an undiagnosed anxiety disorder everyone assumes is child shyness why would you think I would want to do that. Instead I will whisper my choices to you. After therapy tho I felt pretty rad for picking my own lollies by myself. I was like 13 at that point but sdfkjhsdf listen I got there in the end.

sdfkjsdfkjhsdf I like that a cursed photo reminded you of me. That’s all I need to hear. Tumblr said no anon dick pics but they also said no anon cursed photos either,,, very sad. for the latter part. the first part thank god. If I could turn on photos on anon I absolutely would just to see this but I don’t think I can :(