#but the bigger part is aware that i am a really small blog and it's more likely that the rise in rqg stuff is mostly my perception

[loverboybrightsideghost]

MWAHAHA MY EVIL PLAN IS WORKING!!!

...genuinely though, i'm not sure if it's a small renaissance or a big coincidence! this is what i've seen happen from my perspective:

i (re)started my rqg relisten in march, and as a result i started both posting more about rqg and reblogging many more rqg-related posts/following ppl who are into it. the result is that i am now "around" much more of the community than i used to be. i've even gained some (more) beloved rqg mutuals! when i started jumping back into things as it were, i did notice two or three people in the main tag who were posting about listening to rqg for the first time, and i believe the carcar stuff started up (or has been active since at least) november or december of 2023. as it is, since at least march, there are people who never stopped participating in rqg shenanigans and people who are brand new to it, and i have also noticed that after i started my relisten, it seemed like a few other people started their relistens as well.

quite honestly, i did not know how much of this is simply me getting back into rqg (and therefore it only SEEMING like there's an rqg renaissance, when really it's just that i wasn't big in the community previously) and how much is a genuine rqg renaissance happening, but i'm glad it's not just me who has noticed this apparent resurgence of the fandom. whatever the reason for it is, i'm just happy to be here with you all! :) <3

Is it just me or is there kinda am RQG Renaissance going on right now

[that-tom-allen]

Hi Tom, how are you? I really love you and your wife’s blogs. My question is,that I believe I have one testicle that is a shade smaller than the other. I can wear my cage for up to five or six days and then the left side will start slipping, I have bought numerous cages with numerous ring sizes. I have tried smaller rings, but they hurt like hell after a few hours so I believe they are too small. I generally use a ring size from 48 to 52 mm depending upon which cage. I also have some cages with wider rings I read that on one of your blogs and it still does the same thing after several days. I will say the wider rings are much more comfortable. I like them. 

So I was wondering if you had any suggestions of how to cure this problem thank you so much for your time 

I have the same situation. It's difficult in the winter when the cold wants to make body parts hide inside the body. My left testicle has slipped through a few times. 😳 Unfortunately, I don't have any good solution for you. If you've been looking at different cages then you're probably aware that I have an A272. That has the wider cuff ring, which I found to be more comfortable than the round profile rings. I am able to go down to a 45mm ring which is good 99% of the time.

That said, the bigger problem with testicle slippage is in the gap between the ring and the cage. You might try bending the cage down slightly to close up the gap. Alternately (and I have not tried this myself), you may be able to use the "anti-off ring" that ships with many of those style cages. If you grind or file off the points, it should leave your sensitive bits alone, while creating more of a barrier to keep your testicles from slipping through the gap. If you do not have such a ring, check the A27x cages on AliExpress to see what I mean. You may be able to fashion something that serves the same purpose.

[raina-at]

Ich habe 554 Mal im Jahr 2022 etwas gepostet

Das sind 3 more posts als 2021!

105 Einträge erstellt (19%)

449 Einträge gerebloggt (81%)

Blogs, die ich am häufigsten gerebloggt habe:

@helloliriels

@calaisreno

@discordantwords

@totallysilvergirl

@keirgreeneyes

Ich habe 301 meiner Einträge im Jahr 2022 getaggt

Nur 46% meiner Einträge hatten keine Tags

#johnlock – 64 Einträge

#bbc sherlock – 40 Einträge

#my fic – 30 Einträge

#fic rec – 29 Einträge

#johnlock fic – 23 Einträge

#spare parts – 21 Einträge

#bakers with benefits – 16 Einträge

#sherlock – 15 Einträge

#fic recs – 10 Einträge

#writer asks – 9 Einträge

Longest Tag: 128 characters

#i have a grip on sherlock when he's a pov character but when i'm writing from john's pov i never know what he's going to do next

Meine Top-Einträge im Jahr 2022:

#5

So I woke up at ass o'clock this morning and couldn't go back to sleep, so I thought about blorbo dynamics, and came up with Mage/Himbo.

Like, Merlin and Arthur, obviously. But Dream/Hob as well, and Johnlock, of course.

104 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 7. Dezember 2022

#4

The feeling when you're traveling to London and just like, really only want to visit the pavement in front of Barts, and the Battersea Power Station, and Regent's Park, and the street where Speedy's used to be... You know, the important sights.

112 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 17. Juli 2022

#3

Bakers with Benefits ficlet

“It’s too small.”

“No, yours is too big.”

“In this one case, bigger is actually better.”

“The book said-”

“Forget about the book, the book has no idea. I don’t know where you even got that book.”

“Molly gave it to me for Christmas.”

“Molly should seriously know better.”

“I’m getting the book now.”

“Okay, but I’m finishing this without you, otherwise it will go soft.”

“Look. See? Yours are too big.”

John sighs and puts down the last of the vanilla crescent biscuits on the tray. “Okay, let me put it this way: I’ve made these biscuits every single Christmas since I was five. My gran made these biscuits every single Christmas since she was five. You picked up this book this morning. Are you really going to tell me I’m doing it wrong because you saw a picture in a book?”

Sherlock looks at him, and John can tell the exact moment that Sherlock realizes he’s being an arse, because he puts down the book and huffs in a put-on indignation that’s his default reaction when he doesn’t want to admit that he’s wrong. “Fine. Do it your way.”

John grins and turns to put the biscuits into the oven. “I love you too.”

The silence that falls after these four words have left his mouth is nearly deafening. John still has his hand on the oven handle, and he closes the oven with a very loud click. Shit, he thinks. 

It’s not like he thinks that Sherlock doesn’t know that John is arse over teakettle in love with him, but still…

Still, he just told his relationship-jittery boyfriend of a very few weeks that he loves him to end a fucking baking argument, and now Sherlock is going to freak out and worry about saying it back and shit, why, Watson, why?

He turns and makes a grimace, scratching the back of his head nervously. Sherlock is staring at him, wordlessly, obviously stunned into silence for once.  “That wasn’t the way I was planning on saying that,” John says. “You know, tacked onto a baking argument. Can we just pretend this never happened?”

Sherlock stares at him, still stunned, and John can all but see the wheels in his head turning.

“Hey,” John says, grabbing Sherlock’s arm. “Are you freaking out on me?”

Sherlock blinks, then, and slowly shakes himself out of it. He gives John a small, reassuring smile. “No.” 

John lets out a small breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. “Okay, so, um, sorry?”

Sherlock’s smile widens, and John feels the tension in the air slowly unravel. “Well, to be fair, most of our relationship milestones have taken place over baking arguments, so it’s entirely in character for both of us.”

John can’t help smiling back, relieved, and somewhat lighter for finally having said the words he’d been thinking since at least the time Sherlock kissed him in a dark kitchen, tasting of butter and scones and elderberry jam. “Set the oven timer,” he says, then reels Sherlock in to kiss him, and this time the kiss tastes of vanilla and icing sugar and happiness.

And it doesn’t matter in the least to him that Sherlock isn’t at the point where he can say it back, all that matters to him is that he said it and Sherlock didn’t run, didn’t push him away, didn’t retreat.

Later, much later, after the first batch of biscuits burned while they were snogging, and the second and third batch have cooled and been coated with icing sugar, after dinner and a shower and more sex, they’re lying in bed, Sherlock pressed to John’s back, tightly entwined.

“Your biscuits are too big,” Sherlock mutters into John’s hair. 

John grins into the darkness, light and happy. “I love you too.”

(This is the first anything I’ve finished in months, you guys. So have this unbeta-ed, unchecked ficlet, and I hope you enjoy)

116 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 5. Januar 2022

#2

So this might be an unpopular opinion, but for me, the reason Sherlock did a nose dive from HLV downwards isn’t that the show stopped making sense, because it never made much sense to begin with.

TRF is the best Sherlock episode (photo finish with The Great Game), but it makes no frigging sense at all. The plot is overly complicated and almost impossible to follow, Moriarty is ludicrously overpowered and Mycroft is comically useless. But it still works, because the emotional arc of the story is consistent and compelling.

Moriarty is a Bond villain. He makes no sense as a character.  And yes, you could argue that it doesn’t have to make sense because Moriarty is crazy, but just how crazy Moriarty is can be debated. I think he’s supposed to be like the Joker, just an agent of chaos, but he’s the spider in the web, the genius mastermind behind a global criminal organisation, and these two things just fit really poorly together. (can you imagine being, like, a Serbian thug, and the boss just... spills your secrets to the brother of the head of MI6? Because... he.... um... wants to get laid, I assume?)

But the thing is, it makes emotional sense. Moriarty as a villain is Sherlock’s nightmare, Sherlock’s dark self, the thing Sherlock fears most in himself. And that’s why he works. The characters make emptional sense. I understand who Sherlock is. I understand who John is. I get the idea that the writers understand who these characters are. I understand Moriarty’s narrative purpose, even though the story is completely incoherent if you think about it for three seconds.

And that’s where they lost me near the end of Series 3. Not “this plot makes no sense”, but “who are these people?”.

I don’t really care that the whole Magnussen plot is stupid, I care that you thought you didn’t have to explain to me why the everloving fuck John goes back to Mary. Sure, I can headcanon that he’s just really scared of what she’d do if he didn’t, and that he’s afraid that she’d just up and leave with his baby, but the point is, show, in the actual text, it makes no fucking sense whatsoever. We have, like, five minutes of screen time from incandescent rage to “The problems of your future are my privilege.” And sure, there’s a time jump where John obviously came to some sort of conclusion, you know, off screen, but we don’t get even one tiny bit of a glimpse into what the fuck he’s thinking.  And that just reads to me that the writers had absolutely no idea how to come back from the whole Mary shot Sherlock thing without turning Mary into a villain, and so they decided to just have everybody move on, and in turn they destroyed John, Mary, Sherlock, Mycroft and any and all emotional consistency the show EVER had. And that’s when they lost me. I don’t care that Sherlock’s plan to get rid of Magnussen was terminally stupid, I care that I have absolutely no idea who these people are even supposed to be anymore.

125 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 6. März 2022

Meine #1 des Jahres 2022

Let's talk about writerly laziness and narrative consequences.

Specifically, let's talk about setting things up without having any idea how to pay it off.

So. The Great Game. Arguably the greatest Sherlock episode. And the Pool Scene, my favourite minutes of Sherlock, ever. Sherlock and John vs. Moriarty, for me the pivotal Johnlock moment, where they lock eyes just before Sherlock was about to shoot the bomb, and Sherlock gives John a choice, and John chooses to die here, now, with Sherlock, together.

And as much as there is to like in ASIB, whoa did they fuck us over with the resolution of this scene.

Because they had no idea how to resolve it. (At least that's my theory. Or they didn't want us to be right. Because we spent two years writing "After The Pool" stories, and maybe they were all like, "Shit, they guessed it, now we have to do something else".) They built this no way out scene, and it was tense, and intense, and emotional, and fantastic. And then they broke it with a cheap gag and a complete emotional letdown and anticlimax. And in my opinion, they did it because they had no idea how to get out of it. They set up the drama and wrote themselves into a corner, and then they didn't know how to get out of it, so they sacrificed the emotional arc of the scene for a weird sort of punchline. (I admit I felt let down and almost insulted by the resolution of the pool scene, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one)

And now we get to Sherlock jumping. And how they never actually really explained how he did it. Because, I would argue, they have no idea how he did it. They set up something flashy and never had any intention of actually paying it off. Because they didn't know how to do it, they just went, Ah, doesn't matter how he jumped, and all the fans who had theories about it are ridiculous and focussing on insignificant details.

And then we get to the worst offender of all, Mary shooting Sherlock. Oh, how dramatic, how unexpected, how daring! Ah, but consequences. But Mary is a villain now. But John hates her now. But Sherlock hates her now. But Mycroft....

Never mind. Everybody just calls bygones, because we've had our flashy effect, our gasp moment, our dramatic twist nobody saw coming, but we don't want to deal with the consequences, so it's fine.

But..

No. IT'S FINE.

And we, the audience, were just going, "What the actual fuck?"

And they turned around and blamed the fans for their narrative laziness.

Tl,Dr: Mofftiss are lazy, arrogant writers and I want them to step on a Lego every day for the rest of their lives.

294 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 23. August 2022

Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →

[this-is-where-i-hide-my-bullshit]

ive seen your art before and i absolutely love it. im guilty of only reblogging art/liking it if i feel like doing so in the moment, not because i thinks it's just so good. some of the most amazing art on here i remember to this day i realize i have never interacted with at all. i see amazing art that inspires me to draw which i see barely crack any notes. art that frustrates me for a few seconds because i ask why the notes are not bigger.

either way, tumblr is now notorious for being an app which is difficult for artists to grow on. im not sure if you're aware of this but people don't reblog art anymore, which is what brings those big-note-posts in the first place. your art is stunning, but on tumblr it really is down to luck nowadays. ive seen a blog with 11k followers and tons of interactions on personal posts get around 30 - 90 notes on their artwork which to me looked amazing yet was below their average on interactions. notes cannot really suffice for value of the art itself and it is extremely difficult to train yourself to realize that. i strongly suggest taking time away from social media whenever it comes to creating art and sharing art in order to properly get back into your love for drawing again. id hate to see it become damaged because of this. im sending you so much love. ur not alone

Thanks. Part of me wants to be angry that it feels like all I'm good for is recycling the same pictures and titty jokes, but it really just makes me depressed.

I'm always depressed so it doesn't take much to make me feel useless and worthless, I'm starting to think that my depression is definitely getting out of hand, and feeling a blow like that to my only source of confidence just kinda broke me. My depression is probably making it feel like a bigger deal than it really is but it still hurts. And I can't currently draw as a coping mechanism without just making myself feel worse so I don't know what to do with myself anymore because that was my go to when feeling sad or upset.

I know I need to do something else to get my mind off of it but I don't know what. Every time I try music or tv shows it just makes me think of things I could draw and I get worse all over again.

I think I might be having a depressive episode and these feelings were the straw that broke the camels back. I keep asking my doctor and therapist about antidepressants but they keep saying they don't think I need them, which I disagree with. I'm really not doing well mentally.

My mom who is way more emotionally supportive than the person I live with has promised me I'll be able to move in with her before Christmas, so hopefully she'll keep that promise this time and living with someone I can actually talk to irl will help. I know it won't fix it, but any small improvement would be better than where I am now.

[tehuti88-heritage]

My Dad, Part 5

(May 28, 2024)

I believe it was on a Sunday, & my dad was still on the ventilator, so it must have been May 28 2023 when I went to visit him in the hospital.

I'd wanted my mother to stay with him overnight in case he woke (kind of a dumb thought, now), but she came home. I couldn't go Saturday...I felt so sick, my insides were all in knots. I had to drink Pepto Bismol every day, I was in such physical misery every time I thought of going to see him. But I managed on Sunday. His room was small & dim & of course he was sedated, unconscious. The ventilator wasn't as noisy or obtrusive as I'd thought it would be. His belly quivered every time it breathed for him. He had a urine bag hanging on the bed, similar to the one I had just after my cystectomy only bigger. He had a big nasty bruise on his foot. I touched his hand. He was cool. I couldn't stop crying. My mother didn't seem to understand why.

I mean, why wouldn't I cry? I couldn't understand why she wasn't. I guess she wasn't aware that I was almost certain he wasn't going to make it. I was just about positive he was going to die, that he'd never wake up, that I hadn't called 911 in time. I figured this would be my last time seeing him alive. That was why I cried.

A tiny part of me thought, wouldn't it be something if I actually saved my own dad's life? It would be the one useful thing I ever did in my own life. The only one. Maybe, if he lived, he would finally be proud of me for doing something worthwhile. I'd never done anything to earn his pride. He'd told me many times how useless my interests were, how stupid or selfish I was. I know I was never anything but a disappointment. But if I saved his life!...what would he think of me then! Finally, I would have done SOMETHING worthwhile. Wouldn't that be amazing...?

I had Googled kidney failure, dialysis. Could he be on dialysis indefinitely? It didn't seem so. What if he needed a new kidney? I actually mulled over donating him one. But you know, the ultimate conclusion I reached was, it wouldn't be worth it. Given his age & health, how long a kidney lasts, am I even a match, & my own health, it felt not worth the risk. I hated how selfish this made me feel even if it was practical.

What if I'd saved his life for nothing?

I didn't mull that one over long enough, considering. I didn't think too long over how great it would be to save his life, period, because of course I wouldn't. I never do anything worthwhile. Why would I succeed now? Once a failure, always a failure. I told myself, don't get your hopes up that you finally made your dad proud of you, that you did something useful with your life. Because chances are, you didn't. You never do. Dad taught me that.

I just remembered. I stopped keeping a personal blog years ago, because no matter what I was going through, good times or bad, even when I cried out for help, nobody ever responded. I felt, nobody cares, so why chronicle my pitiful life. So I stopped.

I keep an art blog now...which is just as ignored as my personal blog was. But it's the closest thing I have. I make comments in the entry text that occasionally hint at what's going on in my life. The entry for early morning May 29 2023 says it had been a long day (my "Everything is fine" speak for a bad day), so yes, it must have been May 28 when I went to the hospital. My entries starting early morning May 27 start to hint that things are going poorly for me, not that anyone would have really noticed. You need an audience to be noticed, yes?

The entry for early June 5 says the previous day was "incredibly rough" & "I'm not sure if it's over yet."

I wasn't able to go visit my dad in the hospital again, though June 4 would be the day I tried a second time. He was on the ventilator about four days. I could never get clear answers about WHY he was on it; my mother's not good at explaining things explained to her. Apparently the dialysis was just a onetime thing, his kidneys improved, so that was good, but the doctors told her that my dad "wasn't bouncing back" as well as they'd hoped. There was lots of talk about implanting a pacemaker permanently. I Googled pacemakers, everything it entailed having one, & agonized over all the precautions I felt my dad would not take. I was terrified that if he came home, he'd try driving, or going down the basement steps to woodwork way too soon. It would be just like him! So even if he made it, my head was full of agony & worry. My insides in knots every day.

They took him off the vent. He finally woke. Still alive.

I saved him.

Will share more as the days go on.

[many-but-one]

Do you have any advice for how to approach a situation where you find out that the system is much bigger than you originally thought and there has been like another group of people functioning deeper inside your mind because I just found out that our system runs so much deeper than I thought it did and it's kinda freaking me out.

Thanks

(Also I love your blog)

Hey anon,

I've had this in my ask box for a few days trying to figure out how to answer this in a way that would be helpful and insightful. A big goal of mine for my future is to be able to educate people and help people with and without CDDs who are in places that I or my wife/friends may have been in the past. This situation you're describing is something I went through right around mid August. The only reason I actually know when I started learning these things was because I have a frantic email I sent my therapist with the subject line "Ah shit, here we go again" with a screenshot of that very quote from GTA. It's an inside joke between our therapist and I because it seems like whenever something really wild happens that I really didn't see coming I preface with "Ah shit, here we go again." and that's how she knows it's going to be a doozy of a session or email.

(small TW ahead for mentions of unaliving oneself, nothing detailed, just mentioned)

So in all honesty I feel like I don't have super proper advice for you in this regard. Not in the way you may have been hoping or wanting, as I am still new to learning parts and subsystems. I know about four subsystems right now, other parts keep alluding to something else that's hidden from me that's like a Big thing, and it's a...it's a lot! I understand how you're feeling to some degree here. The very first time I started piecing together the subsystem stuff I swore I was ready to do the unalive. And uh, unfortunately, I almost did because of parts who were created to commit suicide in this very instance. I wasn't supposed to know about that stuff. Past suicide attempts seem to line up with that same narrative. Every time I was learning something I was not supposed to know, one of our secondary gatekeepers would throw a suicidal alter into the front and essentially let it happen. Thankfully, we've had either our spouse or other alters be able to step in at the last second, parts that don't want these things to occur. We're working on deconstructing that particular program now and it's been fairly successful, thankfully.

I talk about that not because I think all systems with subsystems or whatever happens going on in your system have suicide programs, but because this information you are suddenly learning is likely meant to be hidden. Subsystems typically don't occur for shits and giggles. From my limited knowledge (reminder, I am not a professional at this so if anyone has better info than me or any additional info or resources, please say so) of subsystems, typically they form for specific purposes. One purpose could be to separate various traumas at different time periods of the system's life. So for example, we have an entire subsystem (our largest subsystem as far as I know) dedicated to our very early life trauma that began long before our RAMCOA type abuse occurred. Those things happened likely around the ages of 3 to 5. The RAMCOA abuse occurred around age 7 or so, as far as I'm aware. None of the main system or any of the other subsystems were aware of the early life subsystem, only our gatekeepers knew about them.

Other reasons subsystems can occur is to separate a specific type of abuse that the system/brain finds particularly disturbing and needs to be separated from the rest of the system. We don't have these, but I've heard of folks whose main system typically has the "less severe" trauma and subsystems hold "more severe" trauma OR trauma that needs to be kept completely deep down and away from the front area, like CSEM production OR incest with a member of their household that they have to live with all the time. If you're around that family member all the time you're not going to be able to function if you have even an inkling of those things occurring, so your brain might separate all of that into a subsystem to keep the rest of the system safe. While the rest of the system might deal with other forms of trauma such as neglect, medical trauma, emotional abuse/manipulation, bullying, etc.

The last reason that subsystems might exist, and this is only our personal experience because I have never met another system whose subsystems are like this, but subsystems may exist to keep certain parts of memories separate from the rest of the system. Which, I've mentioned I was going to go into our system structure in more detail before and so I'm not going to do a deep dive in this ask, but essentially as abuse was escalating, our system realized that a single alter cannot hold the entire memory of abuse that was occurring, and so what happened was we'd split a fragment (which our system labels as "china dolls" even though they're really not that) and they get cracked apart and split up, essentially. So one subsystem holds only the pain of that particular memory, another subsystem holds only the emotional toll of that particular memory, another subsystem holds only the visual or auditory sensations of that particular memory, etc. So, in essence, for a single occurrence of trauma, a splitting pattern happens where we end up splitting anywhere from 2-5 fragments to hold bits and pieces of a single memory. So those subsystems keep those fragments separated so that we don't have to be overwhelmed by the entire memory being whole.

From all of the above information it's probably going to make subsystems sound like a super horrific thing, and while I really want to be comforting and help you through this with some encouragement, subsystems are typically because something happened that needed to be kept completely separate from the rest of the system, which is usually not a good thing.

However, to actually answer your question, how to cope? Um. Good question, because I'm barely coping with my own situation right now. BUT, one thing that has helped me kind of stop freaking out about it is that I have accepted that I will learn things when the time is right. Every time I've tried to go digging or I got curious or something I regretted it. I learned very quickly WHY these things are separate. I learned as a host that I really really should not fuck around because I WILL find out, and it has pretty much every single time been far more devastating that I could have even imagined.

So my advice to you is "Don't go digging!" Because often, system information (especially if you're currently in therapy with a specialist) will become known with time. Be patient. Don't do the "nosy host" thing unless you are in an environment where you have someone who knows what's going on and can keep you safe in case you learn something very distressing that will make you want to go down the sewer slide. Being a system is not a fun time when you're discovering this stuff. I'm very open about loving our system and loving our parts and thanking them for what they've done for me, but that doesn't erase how difficult and scary it can be when you start learning things that you never knew you never knew. Hang in there, anon. DMs are open if you want to discuss this further. Anyone is free to DM or send asks about these things and I'll answer when I can. :)

-Dorian

(Note: Endos please do not interact with this post, as subsystems are a product of serious trauma and are not something that I think could ever be replicated in the way that a traumagenic system's subsystems would occur. They require extreme levels of amnesia and are typically complex, something that a created system would very likely not be able to replicate in the way like OP and I are talking about. This post is for folks with trauma-based CDDs only, not other forms of plurality.)

[goldengoddess]

it looks better on you - nikolai lantsov

pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader 

request: Hiii! I recently discovered your blog and I love everything you write, your Nikolai content deserves so much love (as does everything else)!But speaking of that cheeky bastard, would you be up for writing headcannons or in a style you’re comfortable with about Nikolai (Strumhond in this case) where reader is new to the job and packs light and forgets a coat, but Tamar tricks them into wearing Strumhond’s coat (being oblivious that it’s his) and Strumhond makes a sarcastic comment but in the end is fine with it? Don’t worry about if you’re busy - it just came to mind! ❤️

a/n: thank you sweet thing! i love my baby nikolai,,, this is so cute by the way i love the concept so much 

warnings: cursing, suggestive comments

you could not have been so stupid. 

it was your first week on this job. you were new to the crew of this ship, and you had done everything right up until that point. you wanted to make the best impression possible. strumhond’s crew was legendary. there wasn’t a single sailor on the seas that didn’t know his name.

and you, of all people, had been lucky enough to be chosen to help his crew. if you proved yourself, you hoped, you could get an actual permanent job with the crew. 

but of course that wasn’t going to happen, because you were going to freeze your ass off before you even got the chance to do anything useful.

your inability to think ahead had caused you to forget to bring a warm coat. most days at sea were warm, sometimes too warm, with the sun hitting your face and body at every angle.

but there were days like this one where the winds were too rough and the air to cold, and every part of your body felt like it could fall off due to frost bite.

you searched the deck of the ship around you, hoping to find a spare coat, but mostly to make sure that the captain of the ship didn’t see you freezing in the corner.

you’d seen him a couple of times in the last couple of days. usually giving an order or messing around with the closest of his friends on the ship.

he was cute, you couldn’t deny it. at a distance there was nothing wrong. but closer up it was easier to see that there were parts of his face that seemed.. wrong. you’d been around long enough to know a tailored face when you saw one.

you tried not to linger on the reasonings for his tailored face, it wasn’t your business and it didn’t change his ability to lead a crew. despite that, you couldn’t help but imagine what he looked like for real. he had this royal presence to him.

even though he was a pirate, sorry, a privateer, he knew how to hold command. how to get people to listen when they didn’t want to. to make deals and compromises whenever a fight broke out. to leave both sides satisfied. he was like a prince at sea.

okay so maybe the prince had caught your attention more than you wanted to admit.

but it was hard not to be interested in him when every time he made eye contact with you it felt so intense that your knees felt weak.

the sudden gust of cold air snapped your thoughts back to the reality of your situation. your arms were wrapped around your body, as if this position could make the light jacket you had on suddenly sufficient against the cold.

you saw tamar walk onto the deck from below deck. she turned and saw you huddled near the wall. you gave her a sheepish and embarrassed grin. tamar had been the first person to speak to you and though you’d only known her a couple of days, you knew she was the kind of person one trusted.

she walked over to you with an amused smile. you could practically feel the teasing retort that was about to come out of her mouth.

“you look a little warm y/n, you sure you don’t want to take off your jacket.” she sarcastically said, her grin growing on her face.

you rolled your eyes and let out an annoyed huff, “if i die from hypothermia i’m going to make sure to haunt you.”

she let out a throaty laugh. “good, i happen to like your company. you can help me scare the shit out of tolya. he could use a ghost visit.”

the two of you shared a laugh and then you looked at her with slightly sweet puppy eyes. “tamar, please please tell me you have a coat. i stupidly forgot to pack one, trying to keep my bag light.”

she nodded her head at you, “yeah i’ve noticed.” she thought for a moment and then her face broke out into a mischievous smirk. “well i don’t have a coat to lend you but i know someone who has a spare.”

you nodded your head rapidly with enthusiasm. “saints, yes. i won’t get any work done today without a coat.”

she smirked at you and some part of your brain was telling you that her smirk had something hidden behind it. an extra plan. the look of many of the criminals you’d met during your time in ketterdam.

she linked her arm through yours and pulled you towards one end of the ship where a long brown coat was laid on top of the helm of the ship.

you looked at her sceptically, “who’s coat is this?”

she shrugged, grabbing the coat and easing it onto you. “think of it as a community jacket. we all like to share.”

you grinned and let yourself slip into the warmth of the cloth. you shuffled around a little and grabbed onto the ends of the sleeves since the coat was on the bigger side.

“i like it”

tamar smirked and motioned for you to spin, “it suits you. like it was made for you to use it.”

you narrowed your eyes and her words but before you could say anything she was walking back below deck.

the rest of the day went by without a hitch. the cold stopped bothering you and completing your daily task were actually easier. the coat smelled of the sea, the feeling of the sun, and an oddly familiar cologne that you couldn’t quite place.

it was too late before you realized how badly you’d fucked up.

you were on the right end of the ship, tying knots as the sunset around you. tamar was sat on a box talking while you worked quietly.

“nice coat y/n. i didn’t know we were at that level in our relationship just yet.” you heard a voice say from a couple feet away.

your head jerked upwards at the voice and you met the eyes of the one and only strumhond. he wore a smirk on his beautiful face and he was leaning against one of the beams of the ship.

you looked down at the coat you were wearing and had grown fond of throughout the day and your eyes went wide. you snapped your head to the girl sitting next to you, only to find her laughing silently into her hands. you threw her the most menacing glance you could manage before turning your attention back to your captain.

you got up and started wiggling out of the coat, “i am so so sorry. i was freezing and i under packed and i knew i wouldn’t get any work done today if i was cold so i asked tamar and she gave me this one and i never would have borrowed it had i known that-”

you paused your rambling and the sound of strumhond’s laugh. he took a couple steps forward so that he was closer to you and tamar.

“y/n, sweetheart, it’s really okay. we wouldn’t want you to freeze now would we tamar?” he shifted his attention to the girl next to you, throwing a teasing threat.

she hopped off the boxes she was sitting on and began walking away. “nope.” she said, popping the ‘p’, “we wouldn’t want that.” and then she was gone, leaving you and the privateer alone.

you gave him a small, embarrassed, smile. “i really am sorry. i wouldn’t have taken it.”

you finished taking it off and tried handing it back to him. he grabbed it and opened it up, an invitation to step in.

you looked at him curiously. “what are you doing?”

he nodded his head, motioning for you to step into the coat. “just use it. it’s cold. plus.” he paused and slipped the coat onto you, popping the collar. “it suits you.”

you blushed and turned to face him, suddenly aware of the closeness between the two of you.

he looked you up and down. “yeah,” he said in a breath, “it looks better on you.”

your breath hitched and your blush grew down onto your neck.

he leaned forward, his mouth closer to your ear.

“but it would look better on my floor.” he teased before walking away.

oh fuck.

[legionofpotatoes]

the sheer effort it takes to FOCUS. on DRAWING. my silly silly things right now so I can make a living. is hard to even describe with words here like... I hate how affected I am by this nightmare that isn't really directly impacting me but is also utterly wrecking my mental state the longer it goes. I was sixteen when motherfucker unlimited invaded my country, and compared to what he's doing to ukraine right now it was more of a gentle prod. but that's unfair. dozens, hundreds of people died. lines were drawn, and politicking was dialed up to 11 until we all collectively "calmed down" and settled for their puppets and crawling borders. quid pro quo? I was so idiotically naive and oblivious about it back then. by textbook fascism rules they've now scaled up, turtled up, and moved to bigger targets. right under our noses, an invasion, a genocide. I've never felt this type of rage and fear take root so deep in my bones. it's just weird. being so hyperaware of the continent-sized nation emboldened by propaganda and fueled by national shame just sitting on top of us, frothing, oozing bile and hatred every other second. fully self-righteous, zealous, terrifying. the thought of it is like a souped up pinball refusing to calm down inside my head. but nothing's really happening to me! there's friends hiding in underground shelters one country over. their friends and their families are getting shelled, sometimes fatally. why are they taking the brunt of all this? it is our fight too. but that is a dangerous, fatalistic thought. galvanization of militaristic sentiment during a fragile geopolitical state... yada-yada. I know down that path lies madness. but we all know the eventual score just as well. we will have to deal with them too. we are part of their failed ethnostate, of their insecure shame. ever since their corrupt union fell apart, every half a dozen years, like clockwork, they've been prodding; gradually scaling up, gradually testing global response, gradually seeding propaganda, gradually weaponizing old and new media, learning and adapting with each small success. without a moment, a second of pause. who thinks this will stop? who thinks there are democratic interests in their agenda? what do I do with all this fear? I've exhausted myself from pleading with our divided government and done what little I can for war aid. feels weird, performative (I know it's not). but other than that, it's just waiting. for them to either be stopped or be further emboldened to try again with us. there's also raising awareness, of course, because why the fuck wouldn't a genocide be reduced to a game of semantics by the vicious info war flinging shit at anything that looks sticky. and throughout all that I have to earn a living, poor me, by making artwork. it's a fate every artist in ukraine is currently praying for, I'd imagine. it's just my head that's messed up from all this, nothing more. I still have all my limbs, an intact home, and windows not covered in tape. and a silly blog I can sometimes use for selfish outbursts, like this one. not a fucking clue why I'm writing all this down.

although I am truly-truly grateful to my current commission clients who are being so patient with me while I unscramble my brains and snap my mind into focus and do these small things that derive harmless joy. I know it's something that will always matter and maybe writing this is part of convincing myself of that. you know who you are, we've probably talked about this in private, but I appreciate you more than I can say. this all just sucks for me in odd and complicated ways. please stay safe dearest ukrainian friends. my heart bleeds for you every single day, and all I want is for you to safely and calmly ride this over as the fascist machine swiftly crumbles and implodes.

[ivyglow]

psa + deactiv for a bit

I had some time to read what some people were saying out there and it really saddens me how many “I’m lgbtqia+ and I don’t see anything wrong with the tweets” or “at his age I used to say the same things”, this shows us two things 1) some of you were/are really privileged for not understanding that this is systemic violence, therefore, the person who said the slur doesn’t need to mean it in a bad way because it’s a slur no matter the context and 2) some of you think that just because something happened in the past you don’t need to apologize or recognize your mistakes, which is awful, I’m sorry. 

Being a black girl and having a white mother taught me a lot about acknowledgment, just a couple years ago I started calling my mom out in some of her actions and she made me a lot of questions, we discussed a series of topics and her view on racism has been amplified, just a couple months ago she came to me and she apologized for something she did when I was a five years old kid, she said she was sorry if she ever made me feel bad about my skin, or my nose or anything regarding my blackness, she apologize for things she realizes were wrong to my sister too (and my sister is white, so this isn’t only about the “woke” subject as some people try to make it seem). I’ve never asked my mom to apologize, she also never asked me to forgive her, but I’m sure if she was a public person and something came out about her hurting someone (intently or not) she would apologize, because this is how we grow and this is how we acknowledge our mistakes. We understand that we’re inserted into a bigger space and this space influences how we react to some things, but when we have the opportunity to do better: we do better. 

Systemic violence such as racism and homophobia don’t necessarily need the other part to mean harm, because again: it's systemic. Slurs were wrong back then and they still wrong nowadays. It doesn’t mean that because you used it back then you’re a homophobe now, but it means that you hurt someone at the time and how you react and respond to this situation now says something about who you are in the present. I’m so so sad with people saying they used to say it therefore it's not a problem or that he was a kid. Yes, it was something “common” to SOME of you at the time, but it doesn’t mean it was right and if any of you ever get the opportunity to apologize to someone that was around you at the time: please, do. Yes, nols was a teenager at the time, but as a white, rich boy he gets to have the “space to grow” and make mistakes that bipoc and some lgbtqia+ never had. My brother has the same age as Nolan, and he wasn’t excused for his mistakes -no matter how small they were- because he was a black kid.

When I say publicly talking and apologizing, addressing the issue, I mean it so people can see that no matter if for some it seemed ok back then, it wasn’t. Some of you didn’t felt personally attacked by the slurs, which is fine but to say that it wasn’t harmful reduces the feeling of a whole group to your own feelings, it makes exactly what those acts of violence do: it treats us as homogenous. 

I’m completely fine with people supporting him, I really am, it wasn’t my intention to make everyone angry with my first post, I was addressing an issue that was brought to me in my ask box, saying how hockey culture is not something that starts on the nhl or isn’t influenced by the majority there (white, rich, cis, etc). Whoever took the time to read the whole thing saw that I said everything people are repeating there: he was a teenager, probably space, where he grew up, didn’t really introduce him on social issues, people probably never called him out on that at the time and so on, but this doesn’t change the fact that slurs aren’t ok. It strikes me as some of you still live in a fairytale where we get to have bad guys and good guys, but we're human beings and we need to start understanding that someone can do something bad in the past without necessarily being a bad person (that goes from problem to problem, of course). You say you want to change hockey culture and that you want to do better but when a bipoc/lgbtqia+ points an issue and wants to debate it y’all are quick to choose the one who has the same view as you and use it (@someone is gay and didn’t felt affected by it, therefore, it isn’t a big deal!!!), and it's just curious, honestly.

You also feel as if you have the right to come to my inbox and say hateful stuff, question my views and point a finger at me. I’m not perfect nor I expect any player to be, I’m well aware they are mostly white rich men, and the environment they grew up in is completely different from what we would expect as the ideal, but it doesn’t mean that we’re gonna simply ignore issues. That being said I’m not answering about this topic anymore, its tiring and stressful especially when people already have everything out there, and what I keep doing is basically repeating myself in different ways just so yall get your message. I’m not here to educate, this is supposed to be a safe space for me, yet I do talk about these topics because I know we need it more around here. The fact that some of you choose to block me (when we never really talked!!!), point me as a problematic blog, or diminish the topic, shows a lot about hockey culture (that is very present between the fans, not only in the league).

When you start to realize that part of the discomfort we feel while dealing with these issues is the key to changing the situation we’re gonna start going somewhere, while you keep diminishing it and trying to make excuses we’ll be stuck.

I recommend you to read mia’s rant about it here. Also, take some time to read about the nwhl situation here.

I’m leaving for a while, maybe a day or two or maybe a week, I’m not sure, I just need some time to get my energy back, I deal with this shit every day irl, I shouldn’t have to feel bad in here. I’m really thankful for all the supportive people and I’m really sorry for the hateful anons or the people who felt like I was attacking them or their fave, that wasn’t my intention (especially because nols was my fav too, but I personally felt kinda off, maybe in a different time I wouldn’t feel off and that's ok too). Anyway, I hope I see y’all soon in a better vibe than that (those last lb’s were really good for me btw! you guys are amazing) and if you miss me that much (jk) you can ask for my discord acc to my tito ( @barbienoturbby ). love yall <3 mel 

I’m turning my anons back because of all the named anons I had and I know some of them don’t have a tumblr acc but please: don’t send in shitty things/hate, just go live your life the way you want and leave me in peace. 

sorry for the long rant, I just felt like clarifying things because besides the asks there are people blocking me and unf me like crazy which is ?????

[belettewrites]

Listen to the melody

In which Jaskier finds a puppy, immediately adopts him, and Geralt becomes the “dad didn’t want a dog//dad and the dog” meme. Oh, and some self-esteem issues from a certain white-haired witcher that lead to some hurt until they finally talk to each other. 

cw: the dog gets hurt but I promise he’s fine.

Around 8k words, link to AO3 here!

And a big thank you to @potatofu-art for giving the dog his name! Go check their blog, you won’t regret it (no seriously, do it, trust me)

Geralt and Jaskier had met again when the cold breeze had been replaced by a warmer one, when trees were starting to wear bright green leaves again and fields were blooming with small and fragile flowers.

A few months had past, spring leaving in favor of a warm summer, and they had not parted ways yet. It was something that they usually did, because sometimes Jaskier needed to go to a bardic competition that took place where Geralt would never be able to find a contract, or because Jaskier was requested to play somewhere Geralt would never be able to follow. It wasn’t really parting ways, actually it was more Jaskier leaving, but Geralt told himself that it was something he was fine with. The bard did find him again after, or Geralt did, and they would start traveling together again, Jaskier sharing gossips that Geralt pretended to care about.

He was… fond of Jaskier, and that was why when the bard stopped following the path that would lead straight to the village they had planned to spend the night in, Geralt stopped to wait for him.

The sun hadn’t set yet and wouldn’t for at least an hour, but cicadas were already singing around them, the luminosity dim even though night hadn’t fallen yet. They were just at the edge of the town, and so they had time.

Geralt turned around to see what Jaskier was doing; surely the bard had found a flower that he deemed worth picking, and- 

Jaskier wasn’t on the road anymore. He had jumped in the ditch by the side of the road, and was currently cooing at something. Now that Geralt thought of it, he could hear two heartbeats in that ditch.

“Jaskier?”

He didn’t draw his sword – there was no need – but readied himself for whatever he would find. He walked closer to the ditch, trusting Roach not to run away; the mare snorted but didn’t move.

“I’m fine, don’t worry, it’s just – can you hold him for me while I get out of here?”

Geralt looked down. The ditch was quite deep, Jaskier would no doubt stain his doublet to get out of it, as he had his boots when he had jumped in it: a layer of mud covered the bottom of the ditch. But that was not the part that interested Geralt at the moment; not, what made him pause was what Jaskier was currently cradling to his chest – a puppy.

It was not a small one; his legs, covered in mud as the rest of his fur, showed that he would grow into a big dog, the kind that kept herds of sheep in the mountains – not the kind that was left alone in a ditch by the side of the road.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, his tone impatient, and Geralt reached out without thinking about it, taking the puppy in his hands.

It squirmed a little but let itself be carried. Geralt put it on the ground next to him, and helped Jaskier to get out of the ditch.

“Thank you, dear,” Jaskier smiled, before his attention returned to the dog. He squatted down to take it in his arms. “The poor thing wasn’t even making a noise,” he said, his smile turning sad, “and he’s shaking. He must have been in here for hours – why would anyone do that?”

Geralt looked at the puppy. His long brown and black fur was in a poor state, hairs matted together by the mud.

“He’s missing a leg,” he stated, and Jaskier frowned.

“And?”

“And people don’t want dogs with only three legs,” Geralt shrugged. It was stupid, but humans often were.

Jaskier’s eyes somehow got even sadder, and Geralt felt helpless. He didn’t want Jaskier to be sad, but there wasn’t anything that he could do to make humans stop being prejudiced against things that weren’t how they expected them to be.

Then determination shone in Jaskier’s eyes and Geralt suddenly felt afraid of what he would say next.

“We’re keeping Butterscotch.”

“We are not keeping him- you gave him a name?”

Jaskier scratched the dog behind his ears, and the puppy closed his eyes.

“Well it’s not as if anyone was going to,” the bard replied, and Geralt suddenly felt extremely tired. “Besides, I found him. I get to name him.”

“We can’t keep him,” Geralt said again, because it was something that Jaskier needed to understand.

“But he’s helpless,” Jaskier almost pouted, “and you said it yourself: people won’t want him. I am not going to leave him here all alone, ready to be eaten by wolves.”

There weren’t any wolves in the area, but Geralt decided against saying it. And of course they wouldn’t abandon him like that.

“His previous humans didn’t want him,” he said instead, “we can find him another family.”

The puppy yawned, which was the most noise he had made since they had found him, and tried to lick Jaskier’s chin. The bard smiled at him, a fond thing, and Geralt suddenly couldn’t tell Jaskier that a young dog wouldn’t survive on the path for long and that they couldn’t exactly afford to feed a puppy on top of their needs.

“No,” Jaskier said, still holding the puppy in his arms. Fuck, but he was cute. The dog – Butterscotch – tried to lick him again, and Jaskier laughed.

Fuck.

They were now doing what he had no choice but to call puppy eyes at him.

This was a bad idea. There were so many reasons why this was a bad idea – a dog would need care and attention, and Jaskier’s life was chaotic enough as it was. And of course, dogs didn’t exactly like Geralt. Neither did other pets; cats avoided him like the plague. He didn’t want an animal to be near him all the time – that would cause it distress, and Geralt knew that Jaskier would choose to leave sooner than he usually did.

But one important thing that Geralt couldn’t push aside was that what he wanted most was Jaskier to be happy, be it by his side or on his own.

“He can stay,” he finally conceded, trying not to let it show that at this point there was nothing he would be able to refuse Jaskier. “For now,” he warned pointlessly, acutely aware that the dog would be with him on the path until Jaskier decided that he had had enough of following a witcher around.

He turned away, warmed up by the smile that was currently lighting up Jaskier’s face. He tried to hold onto that happiness when the thought that Jaskier would leave inevitably came. They started walking again, Geralt leading, Jaskier right next to him.

“We’re going to have so many adventures together,” the bard said to the dog that he was still holding in his arms, “and we’ll have a fantastic time. But for now, Butterscotch, let’s go back to the inn and get you a bath. I’m sorry to tell you, you poor thing, but you absolutely need it.”

***

Traveling with a dog wasn’t that much different. Butterscotch was a silent one, never barking at birds or other dogs, which was a relief; the last thing Geralt needed was a small animal broadcasting their location to every single monster around. Even if Butterscotch wasn’t exactly small anymore.

They had found another town and had decided to stay there; Jaskier had performed at the tavern, earning a fair amount of coin, and they had retired for the night when his set had been over.

Geralt was already under the covers, watching with half-opened eyes as Jaskier was getting ready to go to bed. His boots were already by the bed, his doublet folded nicely on the table. 

Butterscotch put his front leg on the bed, near Geralt’s face, and currently sniffed him. His whiskers were tickling Geralt’s nose, and he glared at the dog, who – tried to lick Geralt’s face. The witcher resisted the urge of hiding himself behind the cover.

"He's not sleeping on the bed,” he warned.

“Of course he is sleeping on the bed, we'll need the extra heat. And he's adorable, Geralt, how can you say no?”

The so-called adorable dog was currently making puppy eyes at Geralt, as if he had understood what was going on and was trying to convince him too.

“Because he'll get fur everywhere, and my pants and armor are already covered in them.”

Because that sounded petulant, he added.

“The inn will charge us double.”

Jaskier sighed, but Geralt knew he had to win this one. If he didn’t, then the dog would just take a bad habit, and they would end up regretting it when he would be fully grown. The puppy was already bigger than when Jaskier had got him and it seemed that he was not going to stop. He looked like a shepherd dog, and Geralt wondered how the fuck he had ended up in the small town in which they had found him.

In which Jaskier had found him. Butterscotch was Jaskier’s dog, not theirs.

“But he’ll get cold, and lonely, and he’ll think I don’t love him-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted his friend before it turned into a proper lamentation and it was too late, “the d- Butterscotch loves you already, he follows you everywhere. He won’t mind sleeping on the ground, especially since dogs like him are used to sleeping outside.”

“You’re- you’re right. And we’re right here, it’s not as if he’ll miss us!”

It’s not as if he’ll miss you, Geralt thought. I don’t think he cares much about me.

It was already a miracle that the dog could stand being near him. They usually ran the other way, but this one was surely soothed by Jaskier’s calming presence, always here to talk to him or pet him, or even carry him – Geralt had told Jaskier that he would regret it when the dog would be older, but the other man had ignored him.

“Hear that, Butterscotch? No sleeping on the bed for you. But you’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

He heard Jaskier whispering to the dog for a few minutes, and let himself smile, knowing that the other man would never see it. It was nice to see Jaskier so happy; Geralt had given him some coins so he would be able to buy a brush for the puppy, and the way Jaskier had smiled still haunted him.

He heard more than he saw Jaskier slipping under the cover, yawning.

“Goodnight, Geralt,” he whispered, and Geralt hummed his reply.

He discovered in the morning that Butterscotch had slept on his bag, successfully shedding fur everywhere. Jaskier had gone downstairs to get them breakfast, so he allowed himself to say to the dog:

“You’re a menace, little one.”

Butterscotch wagged its tail and nudged Geralt’s hand. Well. You couldn’t win them all.

***

The wind was howling outside, the sky was getting darker, and people were hurrying to get inside before the night fully settled. However, Geralt and Jaskier were too busy arguing to notice that.

“I’m telling you, Jaskier, you have to stay here for this one. It’s too dangerous.”

They had been arguing – calmly discussing – for a good ten minutes about Geralt’s next hunt; the witcher didn’t want Jaskier to come with him because it was too dangerous, while the bard absolutely wanted to come because it would “make a great song”. Geralt tended to disagree – he couldn’t exactly see the appeal of songs describing him fighting against monsters.

Plus, the fight would take place in a forest, at night, so it wasn’t very likely that Jaskier would be able to see anything, and extremely likely that Geralt would have to end up running for his bard’s life, because the other man was too busy taking notes to notice his surroundings. Though the night would prevent him from taking any notes, as would the rain that the dark clouds were announcing. There really was no point for Jaskier to come with him.

“Well what I am telling you is that-”

Butterscotch whined, effectively interrupting Jaskier in whatever he was going to reply.

They both looked down at the dog who was laying at their feet, his ears back on his head. Jaskier squatted down to take him in his arms.

“You’re going to regret that when he’ll be older,” Geralt warned, as he did every time Jaskier went to hold the puppy. Jaskier was strong, but not strong enough to hold the eighty pounds that the puppy would one day weigh. Somehow, Geralt knew that he was going to have to hold the dog when he would want to, and the thought itself was enough to tire him.

“We’ll see,” Jaskier replied like he did every time. “He doesn’t like when we’re fighting,” he added, showing the puppy to Geralt, who barely resisted the urge to pet him. Butterscotch’s ears had perked up now that Jaskier was holding him, and he and the bard made quite an adorable sight, not that Geralt was ever going to say that out loud.

It didn’t seem like Jaskier was going to change his mind soon, if the way he was frowning was a good indication of it. If the wind, the rain threatening to fall, and his possible demise weren’t enough to deter Jaskier from following him, it was time to change tactics. Jaskier might be the bard between the two of them but Geralt too knew how to wield words, though he didn’t choose to do it often.

“We can’t let him here,” he said, shoulders open as a proof of sincerity. Because he did mean it.

“I’m sorry?”

“Butterscotch. You can’t leave him here all alone. He’s still… young, it’s too dangerous.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at Geralt, who felt like he needed to go on if he wanted Jaskier to actually yield.

“He might get injured, I won’t be able to defend the both of you.”

And between you and him, I would choose you. Even if you’d hate me for not saving your dog.

Jaskier’s face seemed to fall, but he nodded, reaffirming his hold on the dog.

“You’re- yes, it would be safer for him.”

“For you,” Geralt insisted, because it was something that he needed to say. Butterscotch was a means to an end here, a way for him to make Jaskier stay in their room instead of running to his doom. And if it meant protecting the puppy, well. It was as they said, with the birds and the stone.

Geralt clumsily patted Jaskier on the shoulder before turning around to check if he had all he needed. It was easier than to see how his friend was looking now, his eyes too sad for Geralt’s liking. But it was something that he would do again – Jaskier’s safety was more important to him than what the bard actually thought about him.

He glanced at his things, quickly scanning what was in his bag: potions, a shirt that Jaskier had insisted had to be there, the stick that Butterscotch had given to him – wait.

He took the stick out of his bag, deciding against throwing it away, not because it was something that Butterscotch had given to him, but because… because. He could feel his swords against his back, their light weight a reassurance that everything was going to be okay – that even if he didn’t make it for a reason or another, Jaskier and Butterscotch would be safe here.

“I’ll go now,” he said to Jaskier, who had put the puppy back on the ground and was currently taking his lute out of its case. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Be careful, dear,” Jaskier replied, barely taking his eyes away from his lute.

Butterscotch tried to follow Geralt as he walked towards the door, and the witcher had to quickly close it to prevent the dog from escaping. He heard a whine coming from inside the room and Jaskier’s soothing voice who tried to calm him.

Shaking his head, Geralt walked downstairs, ignoring the way hearing how sad the puppy was made his heart clench.

Jaskier was reading when Geralt came back, thankfully uninjured, though damp because of the rain that had finally started to fall. The bard was already under the covers, his lute safe in its case, papers safely tucked away in his bag. A single candle was lighting the room, and Geralt was left once again to wonder about Jaskier’s powers. Could he see in the dark? Maybe that was why he had wanted to come with him despite the night.

“You’re back,” Jaskier smiled at him, not closing his book. “Do you need help with anything?”

“No,” Geralt grunted, putting his bag and swords down. He had already cleaned them, knowing that Jaskier would already be in bed and not wanting to disturb him.

He started to unbuckle his armor, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw what was currently sleeping on his side of the bed.

“Is Butterscotch-”

“Sleeping on the bed? Yes, I think he is. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Geralt sighed.

“I thought we had agreed not to let him sleep on the bed.”

“I know it’s going to teach him terrible habits, but you were away and he was looking so sad-”

“It’s unsanitary,” Geralt said, finally getting out of his armor. Quickly changing into a new shirt – one that wasn’t full of fur –, he woke the dog up by petting his head. “Hey,” he murmured, trying not to think too much about why he was so gentle with him, “get off the bed.”

Butterscotch slowly stood up, stretching and yawning, but finally jumped off the bed in one smooth motion. He immediately went near Geralt’s bag, curled up into a ball, and promptly fell back asleep.

“Hmm.”

“See? He listens, he’s well-educated,” Jaskier said, closing his book and putting it away.

“He was afraid of what I might do to him,” Geralt retorted while getting under the cover. “I don’t think that counts as listening.”

Jaskier blinked a few times, his face growing serious.

“Butterscotch isn’t afraid of you, Geralt.”

“He obeys me because he sees me as a predator. He’s afraid.”

“Is that- Geralt, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Didn’t you hear him when you left? He was sad because you were leaving without him.”

“You’re disillusioned, bard,” Geralt snarled before blowing out the candle. To think that a dog – that anyone, really – would miss him when he was gone was beyond stupid.

Jaskier stayed silent, the only sound in the room the deep breaths of the dog.

“Goodnight, Geralt,” he finally said, his voice small.

Geralt didn’t reply, too busy hating himself to notice how Jaskier’s breaths became more irregular, how the air suddenly smelled like salt instead of them.

Butterscotch kept on sleeping, undisturbed.

***

Geralt hadn’t known how to apologize about that incident so he didn’t, and they kept on moving across the continent for a few weeks, Butterscotch still proudly walking beside them, following Jaskier or staying near Roach who, the traitor, seemed to like the dog just find, never minding when he walked near her.

Jaskier hadn’t mentioned the incident either, so Geralt simply thought that it had been forgotten. He hadn’t made any other remarks after that, and Jaskier hadn’t tried to pretend that the dog loved them both equally when they both knew it was a lie.

It didn’t stop Geralt from thinking back about that night and the day that had followed, how Jaskier had talked but not really talked, how it had seemed more like a defense mechanism than a true desire to share every thought that came across his mind.

Butterscotch hadn’t been allowed to sleep on the bed again after that night though he kept on trying, and Geralt was left to wonder how exactly the presence of a dog had changed their dynamics so much. Or maybe, he thought as he watched Jaskier braiding a flower into Roach’s mane, maybe it didn’t change them as much as it revealed that they had already changed. Jaskier was getting older, and though it didn’t show, Geralt knew that the time for him to finally settle down somewhere would come.

He had mentioned the coast, once, how he would have liked to go there when he would be older, and Geralt knew that it was only a matter of time before Jaskier would leave him, taking Butterscotch and all the happiness in Geralt’s life with him.

But it was not something Geralt had control over; still, he couldn’t help but think about it, about when Jaskier would eventually leave, when he would be all alone on the path once again. He had forgotten how it was to truly be alone. Even when he and Jaskier got separated during the year, he knew they would find each other again. But to know that Jaskier wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore would change the colors of the path from bright and lively to dull.

It was difficult not to think about it right now. They were sleeping outside, in the woods, because the weather was nice and they were too far away from any villages anyway. They had set camp early and the night had just fallen on them. Jaskier and Butterscotch had left for a walk, as they always did on evenings, and Geralt had stayed behind, as he always – no. That was not true. He should stop thinking like that.

He added another log to the fire, and sighed. He could hear them still, Jaskier walking on twigs and Butterscotch running around, but he felt… lonely. Which was ridiculous. He never used to feel like that before.

They were coming back, just in time to eat the rabbits that Geralt had been cooking. He had made sure to add spices to Jaskier’s part.

Butterscotch ran straight to him, his lack of a front leg not deterring him. He stopped right by him, and Geralt petted his head. The dog had surely smelled the rabbits, which would explain why he was letting Geralt pet him. Or maybe – but no. Dogs didn’t like him.

“He whines when you’re not here, you know,” Jaskier said as he sat down next to Geralt. “Which was cute when he was small, but now – I swear, he’s always silent when you’re near but when you’re gone? Gods, the only way to soothe him is to give him one of your shirts.”

That would explain why he kept on having dog hair on his stuff even when they had been safely packed away in his bag.

"Hmm," he replied, trying to ignore the way the dog wagged his tail as he pet him. It meant nothing.

He stopped petting Butterscotch to take the rabbits out of the fire, and the dog nudged his arm.

“He didn’t like how you stopped petting him,” Jaskier remarked, an amused smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hmm,” Geralt said, but resumed his previous task. Butterscotch sat down and put his head on Geralt’s tight, who tried his best to refrain the wave of affection that overtook him. Maybe – maybe the dog trusted him, after all. Maybe Jaskier had been right, the other night, when –

He quickly glanced at his friend, who looked the other way when their eyes met. Great.

Geralt hated it, hated the way they were right now – but he couldn’t say anything. It was too late. He should have apologized right after his outburst. But Jaskier had acted as if everything was fine the next morning and it had been too easy to follow his lead, to not think about what he had said, how it might have hurt him.

“We should eat,” he said, if only to break the silence. “And maybe – you must have a song or two, for after,” he added hesitantly.

Jaskier’s face cleared up, a sparkle of mischief lighting up in his eyes. It made Geralt want to smile.

Instead, what he did was take his share of the food and eat it slowly, giving as discreetly as possible pieces of it to the dog that hadn’t left his side. If Jaskier saw him, he didn’t say anything; he was talking about the latest gossip in a court whose name Geralt had forgotten.

Listening to his laugh as he recounted the misfortune of some nobles made it a bit easier to forget that this, that them being together and sharing a meal, was not something that was meant to last. Jaskier played soft tunes that Butterscotch fell asleep to, laying down at Geralt’s side, and Geralt closed his eyes. He never wanted the moment to end.

***

The day had been nice; the weather had been kind to them, the sun warming the streets of the town they had decided to stay in because Geralt had taken a contract there and because the inn looked “just perfect for me to perform in, Geralt”. So they had rented a room, Jaskier had given the innkeeper his word that the big fluffy dog that was with them wouldn’t hurt anyone and would keep silent, and they had spent the rest of the day preparing for their respective evening activities.

The fight wasn’t one Geralt was worried about, and it went without much problems. Jaskier and Butterscotch had stayed behind, as they did most of the time now, and Geralt had tried not to think about it too much. Because that was what he had wanted, right? But he couldn’t help but feel as if it were a sign of Jaskier’s soon departure, a proof that Jaskier wasn’t interested in staying with him anymore. It scared him, and the fact that it scared him scared him even more.

He managed to refrain from sighing wearily as he opened the door. He was ready to eat whatever was left of supper and to go to bed, because hopefully his dreams wouldn’t be plagued by thoughts of Jaskier and Butterscotch leaving him.

“Geralt!”

His name, said with so much angst and worry, made Geralt almost drop everything he had been carrying – namely, his swords and his bag of potions. Eyes wide open, suddenly perfectly awake, he all but ran to Jaskier, worried out of his mind. The last time he had seen him, Jaskier had been working at the table of the room, happily humming, the dog laying at his feet, playing with one of Geralt's shirts.

Now Jaskier was standing beside the door, eyes full of tears, while Butterscotch was nowhere to be seen.

“Jaskier, breathe,” he said, as gently as he could manage. “What's going on?”

Jaskier grasped Geralt's arm, his grip almost painful.

“I- it's Butterscotch. He's- he's not doing well, I brought him to the town's apothecary and they said to come back with payment, but I don't think I have enough coins and I don't even know if he'll be okay and-”

Geralt put his bag down and gathered his friend into his arms – to ground him.

“-and I don't usually panic but you were late and- oh, Geralt, what if something happens to him?”

That was exactly why Geralt hadn't wanted the dog to stay with them. Not because he was a liability and another way to waste coin – but because this exact situation could happen. Because loving a being as fragile as Butterscotch was the best way to end up hurt. He tried not to think about Roach, and the Roach that had been there before.

That also was why he had tried his best not to attach himself to Jaskier. Because the bard would die one day, and it was easier not to have friends than to have to face the pain of losing them. Though that line of thought had been cut short when Jaskier had casually said that he couldn't exactly die, and though Geralt didn't exactly know how that particular thing had happened, he couldn't say that he didn't like it. Now the only thing that would stop him from being with Jaskier – as a friend − was the bard deciding that Geralt wasn't worth his time and affection anymore, which would hurt too, but Geralt comforted himself by thinking that at least Jaskier would be alive.

“I have money,” he said at last, not knowing how to comfort Jaskier who was crying in his arms. “We should go there, and listen to what they say.”

He had no idea what had happened to their dog, but it must have been bad if Jaskier was in such a state. The bard loved so freely, it was sometimes worrying.

“Yes,” Jaskier nodded, “Yes. Do you think- do you think we should bring him his shirt?” he added tentatively, sniffing.

“I don't know when my shirt became his, but yes,” Geralt tried to joke just to make Jaskier smile, to bring back the spark in his blue eyes.

It worked, somehow, Jaskier smiling thinly, eyes still brimmed with red. How long had he been crying, alone?

“Come on, Jask. No need to stay here when they need us there. I have enough money, take the shirt, and we'll see how our dog is doing. I'm sure he'll be fine.”

Jaskier nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Yes, you're right, yes, I- I'll tell you what happened on the way.”

They left the room without looking back, and Geralt, worried about Jaskier and about the dog that had somehow forged a way into his heart, let Jaskier take his hand. He needed the comfort, Geralt thought, and it wasn't hurting anyone. And there was nothing that he could really refuse Jaskier – the mere presence of Butterscotch into their life was proof of that.

Their brown and black dog was in a poor state, his breaths laborious and his eyes glassy.

“I gave him something against the pain”, the apothecary explained, “but it's going to take a few more days until he'll be fine again.”

Geralt felt Jaskier squeeze his hand.

“But he is?” the bard asked, his voice hoarse, “Going to be fine, I mean.”

The apothecary smiled.

“Yes, worry not,” they assured. “Make sure he doesn't eat anything like this again, though.”

As Jaskier had explained to Geralt on the way to the edge of the village where the shop was, he had taken Butterscotch outside for a walk right before the night had fallen, because he had planned to spend the evening playing for the townsfolk and the day was just too beautiful to resist a short stroll.

Since the dog didn't need a leash, Jaskier had let him wander around, keeping an eye on him but not worried. Nothing bad had happened, but right as they were going back into their room, Butterscotch had eaten something that had been left right in front of their door, and had started whining soon after. Jaskier had dropped everything to run to the town’s apothecary, Butterscotch in his arms, worried out of his mind and not even thinking about who could have done it.

It made Geralt's blood boil with rage. He could understand people being prejudiced against him, not liking him and fearing him. But to think that someone had willingly tried to poison his dog – it made him feel furious and guilty. What if they had decided to hurt Jaskier instead? 

“We brought him something,” Jaskier said, taking out the black shirt that was covered in fur, “Can he have it?”

The apothecary sent a knowing look Geralt's way but smiled at them. Jaskier hadn't let Geralt's hand go.

“Of course. I can keep him here for a few days, if that's alright with you.”

Geralt could feel Jaskier's hesitation, though he didn't know what caused it.

“I have coin”, Geralt told them, and he felt Jaskier relax next to him. “It's not going to be a problem. Please just... make sure he doesn't suffer too much?”

Jaskier squeezed his hand again, and Geralt squeezed back to let him know that everything was going to be alright.

“I will,” they promised, “He's lucky to have people as loving as you two are.”

“He's... good,” Geralt said, not really knowing how to answer that. He glanced at Jaskier, only to find that the bard was already looking at him.

“Thank you for taking care of him so late in the evening,” Jaskier yawned, and oh, right, it was well into the night at this point. Geralt hadn't even realized. “We'll be on our way,” Jaskier added, and Geralt took it as his cue to give the apothecary the amount of money they had asked for. “Thank you for taking care of Butterscotch, we'll be back tomorrow to visit him.”

They bid their goodbyes and walked back to their room. Jaskier was silent on their way back to the inn, which was weird but understandable; he seemed to be thinking about something, his scent betraying his sadness and his anxiousness. And if Jaskier's hand found Geralt's again, well, neither of them was going to comment on that.

***

“It's weird, not having to tell him not to climb on the bed,” Geralt remarked a little while later, as they were both trying to sleep, candles blown out a few minutes ago.

When Jaskier didn't reply, he opened his eyes to look at him. Jaskier avoided his eyes, and Geralt frowned.

“I'm worried about him too,” he said, “but they said he was going to be okay. You should try to sleep, Jaskier. It won’t change anything if you stay awake.”

Jaskier sighed, a sigh so sad and so full of anguish that hearing it made Geralt's chest hurt.

“I know, it's just- you aren't going to leave him here, right? After he's well again? Because I know we're both just liabilities to you,” Jaskier went on without caring about Geralt's stunned silence, “But this was my fault and he shouldn't be punished like this – because between you and him I don't know which one I would be able to choose, because choosing you would mean losing him and I think I would hate you for that, but choosing him would mean losing you and I- I can't afford to lose you, Geralt.”

To say that Geralt didn't know what to fucking say would be an understatement; he went for the thing he was the most familiar with.

“What?”

Jaskier sat up and so did he. He cast Igni absentmindedly, thinking that it was a conversation for which they needed to see each other clearly and not in the darkness of an unlit room. It was a mistake, though, because seeing Jaskier's desperate look in the light made Geralt feel... he didn't know what the feeling was, but it was not a good one.

“I mean,” he tried again, “Why the fuck would I leave him here? He's our- I mean, your dog, and you love him, why would I- I would never do that, Jaskier, I-”

A thought occurred to him.

“Wait, what do you mean you're both liabilities?”

“What I mean,” Jaskier said, “and don't you dare deny it, is that I know I don't bring much to you, and that Butterscotch at best amuses you sometimes. And-”

“I love him, Jask,” Geralt interrupted. And I love you, he didn't add.

“Oh,” Jaskier replied, clearly not expecting such an answer. “Well, that's-”

“And you’re not liabilities,” Geralt went on, because that was something that he needed to say, that he apparently should have said sooner if Jaskier was able to say it with so much confidence.

“Geralt, you need to feed him, I’m useless in a fight, and I mostly make you end in problems which you would have been able to stay away from if you had been alone.”

That was… true. Not that Geralt cared.

“Jaskier, you don’t- I was alone. And you decided to be my – friend,” he managed to say, trying not to show how much it scared him to say it out loud, lest Jaskier denied it, “and I don’t mind paying for your dog, or for our food, it’s- it’s how I can take care of you. So. I don’t mind.”

He was the one trying to avoid Jaskier’s gaze, now. The mutations made sure he wasn’t able to blush, but boy did he feel like he was. Eyes cast to the side, he tried to say the last thing he had on his mind, because it felt like it mattered.

“And I- I’m happy that you’re here. On the path with me, I mean. And you’ll be welcome for as long as you want. But you don’t have to feel- obliged to stay,” he choked out, because now that it had been said, Jaskier would surely leave, no matter what he had told before. Geralt thought of the coast, of a blue-eyed man laughing on a beach, throwing a stick for his dog to fetch. “I know you’ll want to leave, and when that time comes I’ll make sure to bring you to safety, not because I don’t think you couldn’t handle yourself but because I know I- I know I would want to- to travel with you one last time.”

Silence fell on the room, but not the right kind of silence. It was not a comforting one, not the kind of soothing silence that seemed to wrap you in a hug, the kind that felt like balm gently applied to a burn; no, it was an burning one, a silence so loud that it hurt, and Geralt found that it was hard for him to breathe. He had said his piece, and now Jaskier knew.

The flame flickered and shadows danced around them, and he found himself wishing that it had been a windy night, because at least that sound would have filled the silence that was suffocating him. Geralt was still waiting for Jaskier to reply something, anything, to yell at him or to let out a relieved smile that would mean Yes, finally, I am free, but Jaskier’s face was completely blank and Geralt didn’t know what that meant.

“Or- or if you don’t want that,” he scrambled to say, suddenly understanding why Jaskier was always talking to fill the silence, “I wouldn’t accompany you, I don’t want you to-”

“Is that why you’ve been so odd lately?” Jaskier interrupted him, frowning, his blue eyes clear despite the low luminosity. “Because you think I want to leave?”

“Yes,” Geralt admitted, not daring to speak too much when Jaskier was finally saying something – and wasn’t that ironic.

“Geralt,” Jaskier started, and the seriousness in his voice almost made Geralt shiver of anxiousness, “the only reason I would leave would be if I wasn’t wanted anymore. Which, if I’m being honest” he added, lips stretched in a bitter smile, “was what I was thinking was happening.”

Jaskier closed his eyes, and to Geralt’s horror he saw tears making their way down his face. He ached to tenderly wipe them out, but knew he couldn’t.

“Jaskier-” he said, suddenly desperate to get the words out, to make this right, to make them right again, “about the other night- when I snapped at you because you said that Butterscotch liked me- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

His friend sighed. It was a tired sigh, a weary one.

“That’s the thing, Geralt – you never mean it,” he smiled, but his smile was as happy as his sigh had been. “But whether you mean it or not, your words, the very few of them that I’m blessed enough to hear – they hurt.”

Geralt could only stare helplessly as Jaskier went on, tears still streaming down his face.

“You are my most precious friend, Geralt, and that’s why I have- why I didn’t say anything. Because you mean well, you’re a good person, and just being around you makes me – it makes me happy, Geralt, to be able to care for you, to give you the few things I have, because with you everything is just – better. And in the end,” he added, wiping out his tears with the back of his hand, “in the end the way I feel when I’m near you is worth the pain your words put me through. You are worth – everything, Geralt of Rivia.”

How had they arrived here? How, after years spent traveling together, could Geralt have been so blind about how he made Jaskier feel?

To learn that he had caused so much anguish and pain to the person he loved the most was making Geralt ache. His first reaction was to dismiss what Jaskier had just said about him, but that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? 

“I-,” Geralt tried, tried to be honest and to show more than just aggression for once, “I don’t think of myself that way, so it’s difficult for me to- to think that anyone would. Especially-” he gulped, fighting to get the words out because it felt like if he didn’t, he would lose Jaskier for good, “Especially someone as- as- perfect as you. And it was easier to just dismiss it and push you away than to think about how much – how much I care about you. Because caring about people is – dangerous. Gives them power over you, gives your enemies something to use against you.”

Jaskier was looking at him, hands on his tights; he wasn’t crying anymore, but tears were threatening to fall once again. Geralt hopped, prayed, that it wasn’t because he was hurting him again.

“But you have to know that-,” he started, then stopped because he didn’t know how to say it. “I- I don’t know how to tell you,” he finally admitted. “It’s- like- despite how dangerous it is, I- I let myself care about you, and I- I don’t regret it. I will never regret it, Jaskier, because you are – a blessing. You are a beautiful, perfect thing that my hands don’t know how to touch without breaking it.”

He ached to reach out, to take one the hand that he had been holding earlier.

“So it’s- it’s easier to-”

He had no choice but to say it, hadn’t he? He couldn’t lie to Jaskier anymore, he wouldn’t lie to Jaskier anymore – though was it a lie, to keep the truth silent? He was being a coward and he knew it, but being Jaskier’s friend was better than to confess and to lose his warmth entirely. Though he had been a bad friend to the bard, and – well.

“It was easier to act as if it meant nothing than to admit that I love you,” he mumbled rapidly, afraid that his courage would fail him.

Now that the truth was out in the air, he didn’t dare to glance at Jaskier. What would the look on his face be? Disgust? Pity? Or, somehow worse, just a blank look, synonym of the doom of their already fragile relationship?

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathed out, and his voice sounded teary but the sadness from earlier had disappeared. “Is that how you’re thinking? That love is a – liability? That loving me is a liability?”

“That’s how I used to think,” Geralt corrected him, “before I realized that I was wrong. And that’s why – that’s why Butterscotch scares me. Because he’s young, but he will die, and I know that it’ll hurt and-”

“Darling,” Jaskier interrupted, moving on the bed to be sitting next to Geralt, their tights pressed together. Geralt could hear his heartbeat, knew that the other man was nervous, but the closeness felt like acceptance and maybe, maybe, requited love. A hand found his, and Geralt squeezed it without thinking. “Geralt,” Jaskier sighed, “Why do you focus so much on what is going to happen? It prevents you from enjoying life, darling. Butterscotch will die one day, yes, and I know that it will bring me pain, that it will hurt us both. But is that all that you’re thinking about when you see him playing in the dirt? When he sleeps soundly next to you? When you hear a song, darling, do you think about its last notes or do you listen to its melody?”

“I-”

“I’d be a hypocrite,” Jaskier’s voice dropped lower as if he was sharing a secret, “if I didn’t admit that when we meet up in spring, I can’t help but think about the day we’ll go on our separate ways, because it might be the last time I’ll see you. But then I- I force myself not to think about it, because at least six months of the year will be spent next to you, next to the man I love, and-”

“You love me?” Geralt interrupted him, turning his head to look at Jaskier. His red-rimmed blue eyes had never looked more beautiful.

“Of course I do, Geralt, how could I not?”

Jaskier dropped his head on Geralt's shoulder. Geralt didn’t know where their conversation was going, didn’t understand what had just happened – he had been this close to losing Jaskier, had felt the bard closing off, and now they were next to one another, Jaskier’s hair tickling his cheek.

“So that means I- you- forgive me?”

Jaskier stayed silent, but didn’t draw away.

“Yes,” he finally replied, and Geralt frowned slightly.

“I’m not sure I deserve your forgiveness,” he started, squeezing Jaskier’s hand when he felt that the other man was about to say something, “but I will do my best to deserve it. I will – I will be more careful with you, Julek,” he swore.

They stayed silent for a bit, but this time Geralt didn’t feel as though he couldn’t breathe. The room around them felt more welcoming, the orange light from the candle warmer than it had been earlier.

“What does that mean for us?” Jaskier asked, and he sounded – hesitant, but hopeful. It was a question easy for Geralt to answer, because he had always been better at acts than at words.

“It means that we’ll stay as long as Butterscotch needs us to, and then we’ll go on with our travels. Maybe we’ll stay near the coast, there are always villages that are in need of witchers there. Butterscotch will go play in the water and I’ll complain when he’ll shake himself, but I’ll give him treats when you won’t be looking.”

A pause, then.

“But he still won’t be allowed to sleep on the bed.”

Jaskier snorted, and Geralt felt relieved beyond measure.

“For now, though,” Geralt added, “I think we should sleep. I did just come back from a hunt, after all, and it is quite late in the night.”

“My poor, dear witcher,” Jaskier smiled, and Geralt tried not to let it show how much it pleased him to be called Jaskier’s until he remembered that actually showing how he felt was important, “you must be exhausted. No kiss for you, then, only resting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier who was looking at him, mirth lighting up his eyes.

“I’m not that tired,” he objected, and Jaskier chuckled.

“Aren’t you? Then I guess I could be convinced to kiss you goodnight.”

Their kiss wasn’t mind-blowing. It just – was. Jaskier’s cheeks were still damp from his crying and their kiss tasted a bit like salt and the angle was weird, but Jaskier sighed in his mouth, a happy sigh, and Geralt found out that he couldn’t wait to do that for the rest of their lives.

Soon they would leave this place and travel, and Geralt would get more injuries and Jaskier would write more songs; but he tried not to think about it, and found it not so difficult to focus on the moment when Jaskier kissed him again.

It was a short kiss, a chaste one; it was a promise for more to come, for sunny days spent in laughter and gloomy evenings spent next to each other, for arguments and reconciliations, and for a life in each other’s company. Just him, Jaskier, and their dog – and Roach. 

[bluebuckstallion]

the sun will rise again - mlp fic p2

part one contents: aj and big mac are like. 13 and 15. big mac realizes she is a trans woman, and is guided by applejack, but there is much more to it than just that lol. its also a little hard for her. sappy, feel-good, tough internal conflict but overall happy fic. paragraph one is previewed here, the rest is below the cut! disclaimer: there is no transphobia in this fic lmao im not gonna write abt horse transphobia. this is a feel good. but cw for fear of outing (note: i am aware my blog makes posts a little hard to read bc of a glitch, i am trying to fix it at the moment, i apologize D: i rec reading it on tumblr mobile or highlighting the words as you read, im sorry!) paragraph one: The wind whispered lovingly, cooling little Big Mac and Applejack's drowsy heads. A time like this in a young pony's life can be very confusing, something the two of them had grown to be very familiar with. Applejack rested his backside against the trunk of one of his family's old apple trees, if they had no where else to take solace, at least they had the orchard and each other's company, he thought. It felt nice, having this little secret kept safe by somepony you knew would protect it, and who still cared about you just the same. "If nopony accepts us, at least we have each other. I don't care if it's just you and me, Big Mac, we'll be jus' fine." Applejack stated in a soft voice, breaking the silence. He was accepting of his circumstances, no matter how they turned out. As long as him and his sister ended up okay. And again, he was sure they would. Big Mac smiled and folded her hooves neatly, "Eeyup."

-

Applejack worked his fluffy hooves through Big Mac's mane, doing his absolute best to make the fine ginger hair into a braid. He wanted to do something nice for his sister, something to celebrate her bravery and courage in realizing - and telling - Applejack, and he wanted her to feel nice in her own body, even if she couldn't change much right now, or for a while. No matter how small the act, Big Mac was especially grateful. Nobody had ever treated her like this, on purpose at least, like she was a mare. And every chance Applejack could sieze he would do just that, remind her that was what, *who* she was. "So, Big Mac, what do you reckon I call you now?" With that her eyes widened, and her brows furrowed, it caught her off guard. "Like...my name? I didn't know I could change my name..." she let out, slightly confused, a tender hoof raising to her chin as she thought hard. "Yeah!" AJ beamed, not straying from his tedious work. Big Mac, still lying down, started shuffling her hooves again. "Well... I always thought if I were a girl my name would be something pretty, which I mean, I am a girl and all, but I don't feel very pretty ever," she admitted disheartened. "You're plenty pretty! You're an Apple! You wouldn't say Ma or Granny wasn't pretty, would you?" Applejack pointed out, gesturing absentmindedly in the air with his hooves, then promptly returning back to his work, being sure to keep a steady hoof. "Well... Nope." Big Mac blurted awkwardly, pursing her lips. "But-" she began. "No 'but's'!" Applejack interjected, "You're an Apple, and a dang pretty one!" Applejack closed his eyes and lifted his head proudly, putting his non-dominant hoof against his puffed chest, "Look at me, I'm an Apple and I'd say I'm awful handsome, just like Pa!" he said with an endearing foal-like passion and certainty. He chuckled, his cheeks growing slightly cherry as he let out a tiny chuckle, and got back to his work, about a quarter way down the locks. Big Mac grinned slightly, "I suppose," and tapped her hooves together shyly, playing with the grass falling between them. "You know, I always did think my mane was a little long for a stallion," she laughed playfully, diverting from the subject and trying to reassure herself. She went to touch her mane, and was swiftly batted away by Applejack's quick hoof, "Nuh-uh Big Mac, I'm workin' here. Don't go touchin' it now," he said sternly but still non-maliciously. He just wanted it to look perfect for his big sister, he wanted her to be proud, and feel as pretty as she could. Applejack wanted to know how it felt to look pretty, too, but in the way he'd always dreamed of. He wondered often if he'd ever get the blessing of such a wonderful feeling. "Applejack, do you ever wish you were born a colt?" Big mac asked genuinely, still a little unsure of what Applejack was feeling, but knowing there was solidarity in it somewhere, she just had to understand it a little more. "Well - not really," Applejack spat out, his eyes looking away from his busy hooves, and quickly darting back to them before he drifted off in fantasy. He thought about it for a second, and still felt strange. "I wasn't really born a filly or a colt... or anything, I think, I was just born me. And I wouldn't really have it any other way. Sure, I mean, maybe I'd like shorter hair or somethin', or a uh," he struggled to find the words in his young foal vocabulary, "maybe if my nose was a little more colt-ish I'd be happy. But I think I'm pretty happy with me now. I do hope when I'm older my voice is a little better, though. I can't really do much though," he sighed dismissively. He continued, "I don't ever really feel too bad about who I am... I think I just feel happy about who I am. When I see myself as not a colt and not a filly, just a foal, a pony, it makes me real happy-like. But, I don't get too sad unless people are real serious about calling me a filly. I do get sad sometimes though, when I look too much like a filly to other people..." As Applejack placed an orchard blossom in Big Mac's hair, tucked snug and safe behind her ear, a thought went through Big Mac's head. "Applejack!" she jumped up, the rush of movement startling him, who was so concentrated seconds prior. "Let's give you a haircut! It'll be like how you braided my hair for me, we can cut yours!" Applejack nervously rubbed his elbow, then raising his hoof lightly beneath his muzzle, and he began to sweat. "Well, I, what if Ma and Pa don't like it?" Big Mac thought hard as Applejack grimaced, "Well, we can hide it with one of Pa's hats, an' I'm sure they won't mind," she suggested happily. Applejack considered briefly, just for a moment, the downsides of it all. He then immediately turned them all away and smiled so hard his eyes shut, stomping his front hooves against the ground up and down, "Okay, let's do it Big Mac!" As they galloped back to the barn, Applejack had suddenly realized he was so surprised with how much Big Mac had been talking, she never seemed so excited to talk about anything, and he realized how much this all meant to her. It meant a lot to him, too. Especially that his sister was so supportive while still knowing so little, but in her defense, he didn't know much either. It was a very special feeling, he thought to himself, very pleased. They skidded to a halt clumsily as they reached the doors to the barn. Foal-ishly peeking through the front windows, they realized it was only Granny and baby Bloom home, their parents must be out. They looked at each other, grinning, and cantered to the back, sneaking inside through the back door. When they made it to the bathroom, Applejack noted Big Mac looked a little worn out, wearing a tired look on her face. She figured all this chattiness probably made her sister a little exhausted. He shot a reassuring patended Sibling glance at her telling her all she needed to know, not needing words. Big Mac let out a gentle smile. She helped her little brother reach the cabinet above the sink, reaching the scissors that were so high up it took them both working together to reach. Applejack had a slight doubt in his mind, his parents probably didn't want him touching the scissors by himself, did they? But he had his big sister with him, and it had to be done! Nopony else would, and only they understood. Applejack balanced shakily with two hooves on Big Mac's back, warily reaching one back hoof up onto the sink, as he balanced with his two front hooves against the edge of the cabinet. He grasped the scissors between his teeth, and brashly jumped down, just barely missing a potential accident, even though they both knew better than to jump around with scissors, they threw caution to the wind regardless. Applejack happily put his front hooves on the rim of the sink, tapping them and bopping his little head, he looked at his big sister, who began working at his hair. Big Mac chopped with a great lack of care, playfully snipping one strand then the next. Applejack beamed the whole time, simply happy to have it happen, plan or not. Big Mac frequently spun around him, balancing on three hooves and sometimes getting in so close that she held his face with one hoof, his hair with another, and cut with the scissors firm in her mouth. Applejack's body relaxed completely and was kicking and rearing with every cut, wiggling and happily holding his front hooves together and constantly swishing his head from side to side to check how it looked, one side fell to his muzzle, and the other to his chin. He smiled bigger than ever before. With the final snip, Big Mac dropped the scissors carelessly to the tile below. She gently grasped Applejack's chin and turned her sibling's head forward to face the mirror, and his mouth immediately fell agape, his jaw slack, and his eyes slowly widening with the purest joy there ever was. He cupped his hooves to his mouth, removing them, turning his head to the side, and then fixing himself and putting his hooves to his open mouth once again. He felt a soft tug in his throat and his chest, and he couldn't control the watering in his eyes, "Big Mac!!" his voice cracked. "Yes Applejack?" the filly said apprehensively, fearing that she had done something wrong. "Oh Big Mac, oh my gosh I love it so so much!!" He bucked and whinnied, spinning in circles, his once-flowing tail too short to trip over now, and the euphoria of it all was the most overwhelming emotion little Applejack had ever felt. The tugging became so immense he couldn't ignore it, and he acknowledged it by leaping onto Big Mac with a hearty hug, squeezing her tight as his little arms could, and he rubbed his muzzle into her neck. Big Mac politely pushed her hoof between her neck and AJ's hoof, making sure he didn't squeeze too tight, struggling slightly to breathe. This foal was definitely a strong one. "Thank you so much big sis!!! I feel so great!!" he neighed, stepping back, one hoof raised wiping his immense wave of tears. The feeling of euphoria shot through his body in a rush, showing itself in the form of a tiny but powerful hop, as he lifted his legs into the air and threw them around. Applejack rushed back to the mirror, urging Big Mac to come look as well, as she didn't quite see herself yet with her hair "done all proper-like." Big Mac's face became pale, as she felt the rush of a thousand different emotions. The paranoia became astounding again, what if she didn't like how she looked as a filly? What if she still didn't feel right? What if it wasn't - Her thoughts were abruptly cut short by Applejack tugging her over, knowing her sister just sometimes needed a push in the right direction. "Lookie Big Mac!!" he placed his arm cheerfully around her, wrapping it over her back. Big Mac's eyes were glued shut, and she only bashfully peeked one eye open because curiosity would've ate her alive otherwise, and deep down she knew she had to see herself eventually. She uncovered her hoof from her eye, and opened both of them slowly. Her mouth opened ever so slightly, and she wasn't even aware she had stopped breathing, her eyes fluttered up and down the braided locks, along with her heart, and her eyes landed on the blossom in her ear. She couldn't speak, her throat clogged up from such elation. She felt the choking once again, but it wasn't like before, this feeling was quite welcoming actually. It rushed from her throat up to her head, and took her breath away. The sobbing ebbed at her cheeks right away, and she turned to look at her brother. As they spoke with lack of words, they stared with inordinate graditude. As Big Mac smoothly turned back to the mirror, Applejack stomped all his hooves again, one after the other with no apparent order or care, shaking his head in a frenzy as his ears twitched and he smiled a mile wide. He finally felt *pretty.* Big Mac watched herself adoringly, for the first time ever, and felt this acceptance and understanding of herself coursing through her veins with a confidence she'd never had. She blushed, and her ears fell downward, a small smile creeping onto her face. "Applejack," she whispered softly, as if she were too worried the world would hear her secrets. Applejack peered closer with wide, curious eyes, "Yeah Big Mac?" he whispered back. "My name.." she mumbled. Applejack raised his eyebrows, captivated, as Big Mac slowly lifted her hoof to the blossom behind her ear. "Blossom?" Applejack stated inquisitively, before Big Mac could shake her head AJ corrected himself, "Orchard Blossom!" he exlaimed, leaning back and jumping in the air, "Oh big sis, that's so pretty!! I love it so much!!" Orchard Blossom nervously gestured for him to keep it down, as he was prone to being unaware of his volume control. Applejack embarassedly covered his mouth with a shy smile, "Oops, sorry big sis." he cleared his throat, "Orchard Blossom!!" he yell-whispered, the excitement shining through him, he stamped his tiny hooves and clapped them together in celebration. "That's so pretty, Orchard Blossom!" Applejack told her earnestly, loving the new name. "I don't think I want a new name, but I'm really happy ya found one you like!" "Orchard Blossom, Orchard Blossom, Orchard Blossom!" Applejack repeated, playfully prancing in circles, excited by the sight of his short tail, he spun even faster. "What's all that commotion in there? Applejack? Big Mac? Are ya in there?" they heard through the shut door, hoofsteps gradually approaching, painstakingly slow but steady. Both of them felt their hearts drop from their chest as they froze, unable to even fathom moving. How would they explain any of this? Applejack hurried to clean up desperately, brushing the hair together with his hooves, coldly sweating from his brow as he frantically hurried to remove any evidence. He stopped mid-sweep to quickly shove his father's hat on his head, which slumped immediately and blocked his vision. "Oh dangit Blossom, Pa's hat's too big! I can't see!!" Orchard Blossom was still unmoving, sheer panic stopping her very breaths. Applejack felt the tugging in his throat rise up again as he began whimpering.

[cloud9in]

Encounter (Mc x Veronica)

Summary: Veronica goes out for drinks one night and finds herself in a situation where she needs saving. Good thing Bea exists right?

This fic was highly inspired by my boo @fundamentalromantic. Thank you so much for the idea and I hope you enjoy it.

Word count: 2,300

Warnings: Violence, implied sex, but 80% banter 

Tags: @samanthadalton @satrinadia @clowneryme @thedaft1 @alccaddsccup @penda-bear (tagged some people who I thought would like to read)

 A day before moving into Belvoire, Veronica decided she should get a feel of the area. New York was far different from the usual quietness of her small hometown in California. But on the bright side, the vlogger would get a ton of content for her Youtube channel in the buzzing city where people never sleep. The first few days of exploring involved bar hopping and recruiting Chloe to help her film in Soho and Chinatown for beauty week. Poppy took part in Veronica’s tour as well, and on Thursday the girls decided to check out the newest night club that opened up.

 Veronica stepped out of the car in a sparkly thigh-length dress with a slit, and black Louboutin heels. It definitely caught the attention of people standing outside the club, a few guys even attempting to approach her in their drunken state. Chloe basked in the attention, flirting with a blonde-haired guy who was clearly overdressed (in her eyes). Poppy dragged Chloe with her and the three girls walked swiftly past the long line of people and up to the bouncer. It didn’t take much effort to have him open the door for them, being as they were the three hottest people on the block, but Veronica also did have a killer reputation at just about any place she stepped foot in.

 An hour into partying and Veronica held her phone up as her livestream watched them all do a round of colorful tequila shots. The vlogger definitely felt the warm buzz of booze swimming through her veins as her muscles started to relax. New York was the place to be right now and more eventful than all of the years she lived in Cali. Veronica was excited to continue her career and studies in a place like this, but her peaceful thoughts are quickly cut off when someone approaches her, the smell of cheap alcohol invading her senses.

 “What’s a tigress like you doing in a raunchy place like this baby?” Veronica rolled her eyes at the hideous effort of flirting by a man who reeked of “just got divorced and into younger women”. His friends (who were probably part of the same club) seemed to laugh around him, encouraging the unwanted behavior. She shook her head and turned away from him in her chair. Don’t let some idiots ruin your night V, have some fun.

 She immediately stiffened when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, the wet feeling of his alcohol soaked beard grazing against her cheek. Veronica  jerked up abruptly, shoving the man away from her and placing her arms up in defense. “Get the fuck off of me.” 

 At this point people started to stare at them, Poppy and Chloe already standing by the Zeta’s side with anger. Veronica had left her phone on the table but the stream kept going, capturing the voices of patrons in the bar getting increasingly louder. The bearded man watched her with a predatory look on his face, well aware of the crowd that was forming around them. He grunted and turned away after realizing he probably couldn’t take on three women at once, atleast not in the way he imagined. Chloe scoffs loudly, crossing her arms, “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’re scared of us. Pathetic piece of garbage.” 

 Yeah....bad idea Chlo.

 When he whipped around to face them, Veronica finally noticed just how large his muscles were, and how they were straining against his shirt. Oh shit. 

 “What did you say to me bitch?”

 Veronica shot a nasty glare at Chloe before facing the stranger once again, her arms slightly trembling. “Look, let's just forget all of this and move on with our night. Don't mind my friend...she’s just..” Veronica leans closer, mocking a whisper, “it’s that time of the month.” The guys laughed at her comment and she silently breathed a sigh of relief, hoping this would make them back off. The last thing Veronica needed was to get her ass handed to her on live, with thousands of people watching. Poppy stood there eyeing the men, her hand already on the tip of her phone, ready to speed dial her dad, or the cops...or her therapist if things went awry. 

 Chloe sneered at Veronica, her awful balance making her stumble as she stepped closer to the men. She clearly had too much to drink. “Oh please, I’m not sorry for anything that comes out of my mouth, even if it includes vomit!” She points a finger in their direction, “give me your best you motherfuc- mmh!”

 Poppy clamps one hand straight onto the blonde’s mouth before she can spit out any more profanity. Her face a mixture of annoyance and fear as the men start to lose their smiles. Veronica can see the bearded man getting ready to lunge at her and her flight or fight instincts seemed to kick in at the last second. She dodged the hand that tried to grab her, but he caught her leg as he was spent sprawling down on the ground from something behind. She yelped and kicked free of his hold before catching the gaze of a woman who stood a few feet away from her. Their eye contact was immediately broken as the stranger glared down at the man, “hands off the lady.”

 Two men from the group with buzzcuts tried to grab hold of the brunette’s arms but she spins easily and kicks one right in between the legs, making him fall in pain. The other guy tried to knock her down from behind but she locked his arm in an odd and excruciating position, “do you really want to do this?” His persistence led her to pull on his elbow, eliciting a scream from the man until he surrendered and scurried away, along with the rest of their crew.

 The brunette swiftly kicks the bearded man in the abdomen after seeing him trying to get up, “stay down you asshole.” 

 She wipes a trickle of sweat from her forehead and huffs out, “I’ve wrestled pigs bigger than these guys, but damn that was a workout.” Unbeknownst to the woman, it was all caught on tape and would be everywhere, including Belvoire’s hottest gossip blog the T. But she doesn’t have to worry about that because she doesn’t go there, right?

 Veronica gapes at the girl who single handedly became her hero, in tight leather pants. The curly-haired woman noticed the speechless expression on her face and smirked. “Well if I were you guys, I’d leave this place before the cops miraculously show up.”

 “Somebody should call the police! These- these bimbos tried to kill us-”

 Chloe earns another hand on her mouth as Poppy starts to push her towards the exit, “Oh yeah the only bimbo here is YOU, go and sit in the car before you end up in a jail cell.” 

 Veronica turns away from the chaotic scene and notices that the brunette has gotten closer to her. She can feel her throat starting to heat up, and it was enough to take her mind off what just happened. The Zeta girl tries to take a step and immediately feels her heel slip sideways, but the woman captures her hands and steadies her before she can fall. “Woah- careful there. Maybe we should walk outside? This club is starting to get crowded.” 

 They step around the man sprawled out on the floor. Yeah someone will probably come get him, no worries. Veronica lets her lead the way until they both step out to the curb. The brunette helps her sit down on the edge of the sidewalk before taking a seat next to her. “You know, I can’t keep living life without knowing the name of my savior.” 

 The mystery girl barks out a laugh as she siddles closer to her. She holds out her hand, hoping that Veronica would grab it, “Bea, Bea Hughes. And you?”

 Veronica stares at her wide-eyed, a not so sarcastic gasp escaping her lips, “You-you don’t know who I am?”

 “...Should I?”

 Bea scrunches her eyebrows in confusion before snapping her fingers, “Oh wait! You’re a Kardashian..!” That earns her a hard smack to her leg but she can only laugh teasingly. 

 “I think that was the most disrespectful thing someone has ever said to me....You’re very lucky you’re cute. Oh and it's Veronica.”

 Bea bites her lip shyly, “You’re too beautiful to be one of them...Veronica. And you definitely look all real to me.”

 “Okay if you’re trying to seduce me, this is NOT the way to go Hughes.”

 They both bust out laughing and Veronica wraps her arm around Bea’s, letting herself sink into her side. “Thank you by the way...I mean, not like I couldn’t handle it myself.” She shrugs and looks down at their entangled arms, squeezing tighter, “I owe you one.”

 “You don’t owe me a damn thing Veronica. I’m just grateful I was there as well. This ain’t the first time those goons have harassed women in the area.”

 “Judging by that southern accent and fighting skills, I’m guessing you’re not from here?”

 Bea smiles down at Veronica, studying her bright hazel eyes and luscious lashes. “No I am not, but….if you want to know more about me, how about over a drink? If you want to.” 

 The Zeta girl laughs softly, nudging her, “Oh so you do know how to flirt Hughes. Let's do it! But um..it might be a little difficult to do that because my heel is broken.”

 Bea peers down at her stilettos which seemed to be way past 7 lives now and smiles to herself. In one swift motion she scoops Veronica up in her arms bridal style. The vlogger gasps in surprise before wrapping her arms around the brunette’s neck. “Our problem seems to have disappeared already. And you are incredibly light like a feather.” Bea teases the Zeta, lifting her in an up and down motion.

 “That’s because I’m 40% alcohol right now, but do keep me in your arms, perfectly convenient for me.”

 “You mean I get to carry a stunning woman in my arms free of charge? This must be heaven..”

 “Okay Ms. Flirt, keep walking I’ll direct you where to go.”

 Bea fought the urge to tease her about trying to be dominant but the voices of Poppy and Chloe caught their attention. She approached the car where Chloe sat…wailing hysterically..?

 “I don’t want to go to prison! Don’t let them take me Poppy please!” The blonde grabs Poppy’s dress and doesn’t let go, desperately looking around. When Bea finally stops in front of them, Poppy looks over at the two women and rolls her eyes, clearly fed up.

 “Poppy what the hell is happening with Chlo?!” Veronica breathes out, even though this is the last place she wants to be.

 “Chloe thinks I called the cops on her and she said she doesn't want to sleep on a concrete bed with two other women in a prison cell.”

 Bea raises an eyebrow as she watches the two Zeta girls stare at each other like they’re used to what was happening right now. Veronica gives Poppy a stern look, essentially telling her “leave me alone, I’m trying to get laid”, and the strawberry blonde catches on quickly. She turns away, sighing heavily, “Go, I’ll deal with this. But be at the house tomorrow, it's our first day back.”

 The Zeta grins and blows her a kiss, signaling for Bea to carry on down the sidewalk as she lays in her arms barefoot. Poppy watches them walk away and roll her eyes.

 “So, should I ask?”

 “I think you would appreciate it if I didn’t tell you.”

 The brunette laughs easily, crossing the now empty street. The more she walked the direction that Veronica guided her to, the more quieter it got. “Um… V. Where exactly are we going..?”

 “You’ll see. It’s a secret spot. Kind of like a speakeasy, except it’ll just be the two of us and we can do whatever we want.” Veronica flips her hair seductively, catching Bea’s gaze as she bites her lips and winks. The brunette can feel her heart starting to beat faster, her breath hitching in her throat. She barely can move her gaze off of Veronica’s hazel orbs, her cheeks reddening at the girl’s shameless comment. 

 Lucky for Bea (or maybe not), their night was just getting started, and Veronica would have her blushing again, but this time on her knees. 

 ***

 Veronica saunters confidently into the gates of Belvoire on move-in day, watching as others run around campus with luggages and bags. She sips on the iced latte in her land, eyes glued to her phone on the other hand. She eventually finds Chloe yelling at some assistant girl and immediately turns around, not wanting to deal with it. A woman with a suitcase and a grey Henley shirt approaches the blonde, reprimanding her for her rude behavior. The video of the fight last night appears on the T just as Veronica looks at her phone again. Bea’s leather jacket appears on-screen and knocks the man down. Veronica smirks as she watches the woman take on 3 men effortlessly. People around start to point at the brunette while looking at their phones, and Veronica doesn’t look up until two voices that appear to be arguing, get louder. She nearly drops the cup of coffee in her hands when she sees the same face that was between her legs the previous night. 

 And as Poppy approaches Bea, the brunette catches a glimpse of familiar hazel eyes and ombre colored hair and her eyes go wide. “...Veronica..?” Oh shit.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Clueless" *Part 15* (Finale)

I'll admit the last bit of this wasn't TOTALLY amazing, BUT I'm stoked to start "Black Magic", and I got the major points that I wanted in this ending. So, I hope you guys like it. 😉

[Black Magic starts tonight.]

Part 14

Gif's UNDER the cut, so there's no spoilers.

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@lolliepopsicle

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@objection-argumentative

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@aprildecker-blog

-----

To your relief, the last two classes were Rafael free. However, that third week was the big court cases final argument finals.

To make it extra stressful, your professor had gotten permission to use a real live courtroom for you all to present your cases. And not only that, filled the gallery with judiciary members, and to your absolute horror that included the SVU squad.

When you walked into the courtroom, you were already panicking with all the spectators. But seeing the panelists standing up front, including Rafael with a smug smile, your palms began to sweat. You and Josh exchanged worried glances, but held hands and stayed strong together. You glanced over to the gallery to see Ariel giving you a thumbs up. What the…?

“What is Ariel doing here?” You whispered to Josh. “I thought only law students were allowed in here,”

“Oh I asked her to be here,” Josh smiled, waving at Ariel.

“Why…?” You gave him a confused look.

“Uh, for you obviously,” He nervously smiled. “I wanted you to have a friendly face in the audience, y’know besides me,”

“That’s really sweet babe,” You nuzzled his neck. “How’d she manage it though?”

“I’m pretty sure she paid off one of the guards,” He chuckled.

“Figures,” You rolled your eyes.

You took your seats with the rest of the class on one side of the gallery, awaiting your turns. It made you sick to your stomach to see just how happy Rafael was, why was he in such a good mood?

“Look at him, he’s such a smug bastard,” Josh whispered.

“I know right?” You scoffed back, glaring right at Rafael. But his smile didn’t dissipate, it only grew bigger. What the hell was happening?

Soon the courtroom was completely full, buzzing with conversation. Until a guard started clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Attention, the honorable Judge Walker,”

A very old, very mean looking judge came walking from his chambers and settled into his seat. Great, another thing to panic about.

“Attention, Attention, thank you all for coming today. I am very excited to see the fresh young minds of law at work, but first--” He paused and looked down at the panelists.

“Mr. Barba has asked to make an announcement to the court,”

Wait, what? What was happening? You looked at Ariel with panic, Josh squeezed your hand harder as you gave him a very worried look. You looked at Olivia, who looked uncomfortable. She didn’t know what was going on, that couldn’t be good.

“Ahem,” Rafael adjusted his jacket as he got ready to address the court.

“Ladies and gentleman; as the students here are aware, I’ve been sitting in on their classes for the last few weeks so that I could get a better, well rounded assessment of each one of them so I could go into these ‘trials’ with an idea of who I wanted to work with this summer,” He looked around at each and everyone in the court, except for you and Josh. Of course.

“...But, unfortunately, those evaluations are going to have to suffice as a suggestion to my colleagues here. As I am recusing myself from the proceedings today,”

The court began buzzing with even more conversation, you looked at Ariel who had the same stunned and confused look on her face. You glanced at the SVU squad who looked concerned. Seriously, what was happening? You looked at Josh, he was completely lost and-- worried?

“Babe...are you ok?” You whispered.

He looked at you, not being able to speak. Okay did HE have an idea what was going on?

“Order, Order!!!” The judge banged his gavel. Then he addressed Rafael: “Mr. Barba, why exactly are you recusing yourself?”

Rafael took a deep breath as he looked at the floor. After a pause, he looked back up to the court.

“Because, I could not in good conscience cast a vote when I have a conflict of interest,” He answered, the smile crossing across his face once again.

Your heart started pounding, your breath quickened. Everything went fuzzy and it suddenly felt like you were underwater.

“...And what exactly would that be?” The judge raised an eyebrow.

Your palms began to sweat, you wanted so badly to look at Ariel but you literally could not move. You couldn’t tell if Josh was still holding your hand because your whole body was numb.

Everyone in the courtroom watched Rafael with bated breath, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. Rafael finally fixed his sights right on you:

“...Because I am in love with one of the candidates,” He said with the same huge smile he had since you walked in.

Your heart COMPLETELY stopped, along with your breath. You desperately made pleadings with any higher power that you would NOT pass out in this courtroom in front of every person you admire and knew in your entire academic career.

“Oh my God…” You heard Josh mutter. Oh God, Josh. He was probably crushed right now, so humiliated. You couldn’t even look at him, all you could do was stare at Rafael. He was still beaming at you, so proud of himself. It would be extremely annoying if he hadn’t just announced to an entire room full of his colleagues that he was IN LOVE WITH YOU.

You felt yourself begin to breathe, your heartbeat began to beat, but now it was pounding out of your chest. Wait, he didn’t actually say your name. Yet…?

“Order, Order!” The judge banged his gavel once again, and you finally noticed during your little black out the entire room had erupted into even more chatter.

“Mr. Barba, you really could have just told your colleagues here your reason, there’s no need for this showboating,” He told Rafael in a very annoyed tone.

“Yes your honor, I understand,” He nodded. “But I wanted Miss Y/N to know that I am NOT ashamed of her,” Rafael looked at you once again, his smile still plastered on his face.

You couldn’t help but smile back, you were absolutely floored. Any thoughts of how Josh, Ariel, or even Olivia were reacting were out of your mind. Any panic that you wouldn’t be able to present your case now was a million miles away, all you could see was Rafael, the man who was in love with you.

“...Great. Well, I’m glad you and Miss Y/N are happy, but if you don’t mind I’d like to continue our proceedings,” He tried to speak over the crowd. “Alright maybe we need a brief recess,” He sighed, looking at Rafael exasperated. “Barba, really?”

“I’m sorry Mike, It’s a whole thing,” Rafael gave him an apologetic smile.

“Mike” The Judge, banged his gavel once again. “A 15 minute recess and then we’ll begin,”

Rafael took this moment to immediately run to you, you met him halfway. You wanted so desperately to just kiss him right there, but you were still technically in class. Even you knew you needed to stay professional right now.

“I...You...You…” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“I know,” He took your hands. “I am so sorry I left you the other night, but I knew after everything I put you through-- I needed to go big,” He gestured to the courtroom.

“I...Y-You…” Your head was reeling, thinking back to the last night you saw him. You thought for sure that it was absolutely over, and this whole time he had this huge display of an act of true love planned out.

“I love you, Y/N,” He stroked your face. “I love you and I want everyone to know it,” He stared at your lips, you knew you were both thinking the exact same thing.

“Screw it…” You grabbed his hand and pulled Rafael outside into the lobby of the courthouse. Before he could register what was happening, you grabbed him in a deep, passionate kiss. He kissed you back deeply, even more passionate than he had in his office.

“And that was…?” He gave you a weird smile.

“Well, you already announced ‘us’, I didn’t think they needed a free show on top of it,” You bit your lip with a smile.

“It probably wouldn’t have thrilled Josh,” He nodded towards the courtroom.

Crap. Josh. Your face fell, you stared back into the courtroom. As if summoned by the mention of his name, Josh came walking out of the courtroom, quickly trailed by Ariel.

“Oh God…” You muttered. Rafael took your hand gently, letting you know he was there for you. You gave him a small smile as Josh and Ariel approached you.

“Josh…” You started to talk, but Josh put a hand up.

“Wait, Y/N. Before you say anything, I need to say something,” He looked back at Ariel, who walked up next to him. You looked at Rafael with a quizzical look, he returned the look.

“The truth is, Ariel and I--” He looked at Ariel, who looked guilty. “We’ve been...spending time together,”

“What?!” You looked between the two of them, shocked.

“Nothing ever happened,” Josh put up his hands. “It was just as friends,”

“Technically,” Ariel added with a smile.

“Wow,” You muttered.

“Well that’s great news,” Rafael chimed in. “I’m very happy for you, Ariel. Josh seems like a great guy,”

“....Really?” You, Ariel AND Josh asked at the same time, in scary unison.

“Really,” He nodded. “Why do you think I hated him so much?” He looked at Josh. “In fact, I recommended you for the internship,”

“Really?” Josh’s eyes brightened. “I never thought--”

“You were a formidable opponent, sir,” Rafael held out a hand.

“Yeah well,” Josh took his hand and shook it. “I suppose you can’t really stop true love,” He nodded at you.

“Gag,” Ariel made a gagging sound, making Josh hit her. “Quiet you, or I’m going to tell you I love you,”

“Oh please don’t,” She hit him playfully. “I’ll throw up on you,”

“Oh I’ll--” He grabbed her and kissed her.

“....And I don’t think we need to be here for this,” You pulled Rafael away. You both looked at each other in absolute confusement, then both busted out laughing.

“I...I can’t even…” You gestured to your best friend and now ex boyfriend kissing in front of you and your...new boyfriend?

All of a sudden, Olivia came storming out of the courtroom.

“Here we go…” Rafael muttered softly. You began to get worried; this was the real test.

“Rafael...what do you think you’re doing?!” She cried angrily.

“Ah, Olivia,” Rafael ignored her tone. “Have you met my girlfriend, Y/N?”

He said it. He called you his girlfriend. In public. To OLIVIA BENSON.

“You…” She glanced between the two of you, you gave her a triumphant smile. “This will ruin your career,” She addressed Rafael.

“I’ll take that risk,” He took your hand, you laid your head on his shoulder. You were a united front.

“....Whatever,” She brushed both of you off and stomped back into the courtroom.

“I can’t-- You just--” You looked to where Olivia had stormed off, back to him with the smile that you decided was a permanent attribute of your face now.

“I did,” He nodded, reading your mind.

“Court will resume in one minute!” A guard came out and announced. Josh and Ariel nodded to you and Rafael as they walked back inside hand in hand.

“So…” You turned to Rafael with your excited grin. “You gonna stick around?”

“Are you kidding?” He put a thumb on your chin. “I wanna see you in action,”

“Oh God,” You bit your lip. “As if I wasn’t nervous enough,”

“Baby I’ll be right there, cheering you on,” He kissed your forehead. “Forever,”

--------------

In the end, Josh got the internship, like everyone knew he would. But you got something even better, you got the love of your life, and Ariel got herself an ACTUAL Josh.

At the end of the day, it turned out you weren’t totally clueless.

(again let's pretend the Raul kiss is the reader. )

[autistic-lalli]

Autism Acceptance Month!

If you were not aware, April is autism acceptance month! This is the first year since I discovered I was autistic that I have not been in the middle of finals for the month of April, so I’m really celebrating, participating in activism, and educating myself and others.

If the url didn’t clue you in, I’ll be posting a lot of autistic Lalli content this month in the form of fics, analysis, and basically whatever else I feel like. (Along with some guest appearances from some other neurodivergent ssss characters!)

Some ground rules and things to know:

I’m happy to answer questions about autism in general, my autistic experience, or autism in SSSS. You are welcome to DM me or send an ask.

I am participating in autism acceptance month, not autism awareness month.

This is a pro self-dx blog!

If you are new to to autism education and/or are looking to learn more, start with the Autism Self Advocacy Network or the Autism Women’s Network. Do not support Autism Speaks.

Use the rainbow infinity symbol and the color read (#redinstead) Do not “light it up blue” or use the puzzle piece symbol.

If for whatever reason you need to not see this content, I’ll be tagging everything with #autismacceptancemonth2021. I will also only be maintagging my bigger posts--our fandom is small, and I don’t need to be clogging up the tag!

I’m excited to share this part of my life with you all and to celebrate some lovely neurodivergent representation!

[buunbi-archive]

What do people actually expect by "fixing" art? I mean, attention? you got it, the bad kind tho. One thing is if you think it's oversexualized but you can't decide that for other people. You could just have made your own version of MJ, I bet a lot of people would have liked it. The other thing is that people actually thinks it was bad for Scott to defend himself because he is "bigger", yeah call it childish if you want, but I bet you don't like either people making fun of you or your art.

mate i literally did it at 4am once because i was bored and i follow a blog dedicated to editing comic art and sometimes i like editing adventure time screenshots to be different characters, i didn’t expect anything out of it least of all this lol

calling it a fix may have been a misstep on my part, because i did always just regard it as more of an edit and i was aware even at the time that it wasn’t very good

even so over the past decade that particular cover has been edited so many times that it’s not even funny. i don’t understand why i, of all people, am the one to take the flak for it

and i really shouldn’t need to explain the difference between someone making an edit of the work of a professional artist with decades of experience, who has been payed for his work at a large company like marvel and who should be held to a high standard by default. and making fun of some random small artist on tumblr that doesn’t even want to do art as a career in the first place. i’m literally just a hobbyist trying to vibe, and if i get commissions that’s cool too

[lesbian-vmin]

Why do you think Vmin are "allowed" these questionable (at least for those who ship them) moments? I find it curious that some things are really pushed to the front (jikook for sure), and then sometime we get the vmin moments and left to wonder are they real or fanservice? I really despise the thought that either Jimin/V/other members are doing this on purpose, because they genuinely seem authentic (as much as a celebrity can be on camera), 1/2

Honestly, the whole moment of Jimin saying that he didn’t keep in touch with his members at all was pretty weird. Jimin, since day one, has painted himself as someone who loves his members very much. He doesn’t want to be away from them for too long, and he seems more interested with collaborating with each one of them individually before moving onto people outside of his group. This might be why we don’t have him collaborating with other artists while Jungkook, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Yoongi have all done so. And of course BTS as a whole. (I don’t think Taehyung and Jin have? But I might be forgetting something) And Jimin has a great voice. There’s no reason anyone wouldn’t want to feature him in a song. So I’m sure there are people who want to collaborate with him, and I imagine he’s gotten offers. (This is relevant to the ask, I promise.) Although language barriers may be a reason (he might not be as comfortable collaborating with people he can’t communicate with well as some of the others are, excluding Namjoon (and maybe Jungkook is getting there) who is better at English.)

So we can look at this several ways. We can take Jimin at his very minimal word and assume that he didn’t communicate with his members at all during his vacation. In which case, I would assume that he took it as a very much needed break from them, and decided to focus on the time that he was able to spend with his family. Or, we can assume that not every word is 100% true. Maybe when he says he didn’t keep in contact, he doesn’t mean that he didn’t keep in contact at all. Maybe he messaged them once in a while to see how they were doing, but didn’t contact them regularly. Maybe he did keep in contact with them, but just wasn’t talking about his vacation. They could have talked about anything under the sun, but since they weren’t sharing vacation details, he may have counted that as not keeping in contact. Because people would question, “mm, if you guys were in contact regularly, why don’t you know details about each other’s vacations?” If they happen to be talking about something, and another member seems to not know the information. He didn’t want to give anyone a reason to question things like that. We can also wonder if he did, in fact, keep in contact with them, but he doesn’t want to share certain things about the members and his personal time. So he just told us that he didn’t stay in contact with them. I don’t know whether to take Jimin at his word for that specific moment, but I also don’t think it matters whether they stayed in contact or not. Even if the members are close and consider each other friends or family, they don’t have to remain in contact at all times. I don’t think it’s weird for friends to go on vacation (say, home for the holidays) and not talk to each other. In fact, it’s the truest friends that can come back after not speaking for a week to months at a time and act like normal (instead of being awkward each other). Act like no time was lost. (At least this is how I see it because it’s how I am with my friends. I don’t typically keep in regular contact with people who aren’t physically around me [I don’t text much, so unless someone like talking on the phone or video chatting, we probably wouldn’t stay in contact while apart] because I like to enjoy the company of those I am actually with. This might have been the case for them. It doesn’t mean they aren’t close or don’t care about each other.)

Disclaimer. This post may talk about topics that could offend easily offended people. If you are easily offended. Don’t read. You have been warned. Also I talk a lot about both Jikook and Vmin in here. Skip to the Vmin part if (for whatever reason) you don’t want to read about Jikook. But I’d rather you really read the whole post because this goes beyond shipping and focuses on them as people.

JIKOOK

The way Jikook is pushed to the front to me is actually one of the things that make me feel like they are fan service a lot of the times. (I’m not saying anything bad about Jikook because it’s pretty obvious that Jimin and Jungkook both adore each other and love being around each other, but they really are pushed quite hard and obviously.) I don’t know why that is. I don’t know the company’s reason behind pushing Jikook so hard, but I have at least one idea as to why they would do so (if they aren’t a couple). Because Jungkook is the “manliest” member of the group, and Jimin is the most “feminine.” You have Jungkook who is tall, broad, and strong. Then there’s Jimin who is small and cute, and he doesn’t try so hard to be manly these days. (I felt like he tried to present himself like a strong man in early debut because he didn’t want people to view him as the smallest and weakest member of the group, but it’s pretty clear that he became more confident in who he actually is over the years. And this is not a hint toward any gender-identity because I’m a firm believer that a man doesn’t have to fit the “masculine” spectrum to identify as a man. I feel like that’s leaning toward toxic masculinity).

Anyway, focusing on the Jikook thing, I think that’s why they get pushed forward a lot. And I hate to say that about Big Hit because it’s a bold statement to make, but it makes sense. They can easily look like a couple because it’s easy for people to imagine Jungkook as the “man” and Jimin as the “woman.” Since there are many shippers who ship for fetish reasons instead of gay right reason, these kinds of ships are likely to draw people in. It’s unfortunate, but it’s also true. Because of heteronormative culture.

The big moments between Jikook, like I said, often look like fan service to me. That being said, I’m not saying all of their moments are fan service. It just looks like interactions between them are more likely to be focused on during editing because of the reasons I’ve stated above. It might be something they aren’t aware of because it’s just editing their natural interactions to be the front and center focus of productions, but I think that’s what’s happening. And it kind of makes me feel bad for them because it’s like the company is making a show of their relationship (regardless of what kind it is). Even if they are in a real romantic relationship, I can assure that’s not why they are pushed to the center, and it’s far more likely it’s for marketing purposes. So, yes. I hate it for them, even if they are in a relationship together because it could be the company saying “look at these two. Aren’t they precious?” But it feels more like “Look at these two. Don’t they look like a “real” couple between a boy and a girl because Jungkook is oh so strong and Jimin is oh so dainty?” Even if Big Hit is LGBT friendly, it doens’t mean that they can’t do/say homophobic things (even unintentionally) or that they can’t market BTS for a heteronormative culture, and a culture that fetishizes gay people or uses being gay for entertainment. (Edit: and fantasizing.) I’m not saying it’s right for them to do so, because I don’t agree with it at all. And I’d hope that’s not the reality of it (because I really want for Big Hit to be different), but it seems like it sometimes.

Now before I get into the Vmin part, I’m going to share a disclaimer. Because I hope people don’t come at me after I’ve already admitted that it’s pretty obvious that Jikook are close and love each other. I’ve mentioned a potential romantic relationship between them, so I’m not dismissing them as the “real” couple (and I’m also, ffs, not saying there is a “real” couple between the two). I adore Jikook, and I wouldn’t even be sad if they were ever confirmed. So. Keep that in mind for this next part.

VMIN

I don’t want this to turn into a post of me comparing Jikook and Vmin, and I decided to answer this ask because I was sure that I could answer it with that intention in mind. So let’s see if I can do this right.

When it comes to Vmin, I feel like there are far less moments that can be chalked up to fan service. There are clear moments that are fan service, so I’m not saying Vmin don’t participate in that at all, but it seems like they do less than Jikook. (And I know this is a comparison right here, but I hope it doesn’t get taken the wrong way but) When Jikook does fan service, it’s so seemless and natural. When it comes to Vmin, it’s sometimes a little awkward, and they’re more shy. I don’t know what that means for the two different types of relationships, but I’m not getting into that (because then it becomes comparing the two in a way I don’t want to on this blog).

I think Big Hit chooses Vmin friendship moments to focus on because they know that people love their “platonic soulmate” dynamics. But, when it comes to “shippy” moments, these aren’t pushed forward as much. Because Taehyung isn’t broad and manly like Jungkook, so it probably seems a little too gay. And that’s not okay. It doesn’t sell as well as a couple that can be imagined as heterosexual. (And I also think this is why Jikook is the bigger ship, honestly.)

That’s it, and I know I didn’t address everything in this ask. And I’m sorry for that. But I tried to focus on what (I think) was the main point. And I wanted to make it about something very real rather than about ships.

So while I did, in fact, compare the two, I’m not comparing their “realness” or anything like that. I’m comparing their marketing value because I think that’s what it boils down to when we get to see what we see. And if anyone comes at me for my comparison on a personal shipping level, you will be ignored because that’s not what this is about. And if you can’t get that from what I’ve said thus far, then you aren’t reading my words and heart correctly.

I do want to talk really quickly about them faking it, and I’m going to focus on Vmin for this because it’s a Vmin blog. I don’t think they fake it. Because some moments are so subtle that they’re clearly trying to be hidden, and some are so natural that they clearly weren’t thinking about it too much. That aside, I don’t think they would fake their close bond. When Jimin wrote a song and was told that he would sing it with Taehyung, he didn’t have to make Friends. He could have made the song about anything he wanted, and we would have taken it with just as much enthusiasm. It was his choice to make friends, and I believe he put his heart into that song. Since it was the first song he ever had part in for an album, it’d be pretty disrespectful to claim that he’s just trying to save face or not being honest in it. And I know a song could be chalked up to how well it sells, but I think that’s for the company to worry about, but as an artist myself, I know that your heart and soul goes into anything you create. And I just don’t feel right about blatantly disregarding a personal song, so yes. It’s one of my main arguments why Vmin are obviously, honestly, close and care about each other. And I will stand by that forever.

EDIT: All right. I went through this post and personally cherry picked the things I wanted you guys to focus on when reading instead of you doing it yourself. Because you’re hung up about the fact that I mentioned that Jikook has fan severice moments (even though I said the same thing about Vmin), so you’re clearly cherry picking, not reading the whole damn post, or getting hung about the fan service instead of focusing on my main fucking point. I NEVER said they weren’t close. In fact, I took the TIME to put a DISCLAIMER stating that it’s PRETTY OBVIOUS that they’re close, and that they genuinely like spending time together. I get that I said “Vmin has less fan service moments” or whatever. Let me clarify: What I meant was that it’s the EDITING and the fact that they FOCUS SO HARD on jikook that makes a lot of their moments feel like fan service. There’s no shortage of Jikook moments, and it’s NOT because Jikook are the only ones with moments, it’s because they’re the ones that make the cut most often. And I stated the reasons why I think that is. I literally even explained the thing about the editing and said, “It might be something they aren’t aware of because it’s just editing their natural interactions to be the front and center focus of productions,” but sure. Dismiss whichever statements you want. Because clearly you get to decide what I mean instead of me. Also, “So, yes. I hate it for them, even if they are in a relationship together because it could be the company saying “look at these two. Aren’t they precious?” But it feels more like “Look at these two. Don’t they look like a “real” couple between a boy and a girl”

And, in case it’s not clear from how I talked about their relationship here, I am, in fact, a Jikook shipper, too. I stated at least TWICE in here that I wasn’t trying to dismiss the realness of them. And I talked about how shitty it is for the company to use their relationship (if real) for marketing. And unless they’re ever confirmed, that’s what they’re doing. It’s marketing. Because if the company wanted people to care about their real relationship, they would let them come out. And that is NOT me dismissing the fact that they could be in a real relationship. If you can’t tell from what I’ve just written right here, I’ll clarify by repeating what I’ve already said in the post. Because if the are in a real relationship, I can guarantee you that is not why they get pushed so hard or shown the most. It’s because their masculine/feminine vibes are marketable. There are Jikookers, LIKE ME, who ship them because they like Jikook. But you can’t deny that there are a lot of Jikookers who ship them because they’re a straight girl in love with Jungkook and imagine herself in Jimin’s place because it’s easy to see. If you are one of the real Jikookers that ship them for their actual relationship and would LOVE it if they were ever confirmed, then fine. That’s not about you. But you have to admit that there are a LOT of shippers out there (not just Jikook) that ship them with guys because they don’t want them to end up with another girl that’s not the fan doing the shipping. Yet they still would be upset if they were ever confirmed because then it means they’re actually gay.

I love Jikook, and this post wasn’t intended to dismiss their relationship or bring it down. And I’d say I’m sorry if that’s the impression you got from it, but if you’d actually read and not choose which parts to focus on, you wouldn’t have gotten that impression. I just hate it that you guys got that impression because I do genuinely like Jikook. As much as Vmin, honestly. I was focusing on how the company treats the two ships, but sure. Dismiss every time I’ve drawn the post back to that point.