#dandelion break

[ladytemeraire]

20

20. favourite things about the night?

The quiet. The peace. The way things settle, slow, soothe into a softer and gentler rhythm.

The way the heat and humidity drop, reducing sensory overstimulation and encouraging me to go outside while (after a certain hour) also meaning the insects that I react badly to are far less likely to be around to bite me. (I have borderline allergic reactions to certain insect bites, including mosquitoes, and while I recognize they are part of the ecosystem I also try to limit my exposure both to them and to pesticides/insect repellants as much as possible.)

The release of immediate constraints and deadlines (see also: "revenge bedtime procrastination"), freeing me from the need to be "on" in a social sense or worry about someone checking in on me and my progress, so I am more likely to pursue both personal and externally structured goals.

Being able to walk Sadie around our neighborhood without fear of other dogs, or random pedestrians, or motorcycles whizzing by at peak hours.

Related: the knowledge that if Sadie does react to something while we're on a walk, it's a legitimate issue, there is Something There, because she doesn't bark at nothing, and in the dark I can trust her instincts and senses over my own vision (vs the daylight, where I generally rely on my own reaction and perception to intercept triggers before she can react to them).

Being able to enjoy the outdoors in peace and stillness in a way that's not always possible during daytime hours.

The soft susurration of crickets and cicadas and frogs; seeing bats and night-flying birds dart about in their regular pursuits and hearing their noises as they go.

Watching lightning bugs/fireflies dance over any open space available, during the few months they are around.

The ability and freedom in all seasons, since I live in a relatively rural area, to step outside and (to paraphrase Walt Whitman) wander off by myself, in the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, look up in perfect silence at the stars.

Thank you so much for asking!

[Questions I think it would be fun to be asked]

[ladytemeraire]

@kintatsujo​

Good turt

[maybeasunflower]

Dandelion break

Time to go and look at more brassicas.

(From:

See also: author's website.)

[omnificent-orion]

Don't ever forget. Wherever you go…

Commission Info | Support My Work

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Jaskier never makes promises. He literally never says the word “promise”, and he swears no oaths.

It’s a subtle quirk. It takes Geralt years to notice. When he points it out, Jaskier says with false levity, “I guess I don’t.”

From the bard’s body language, Geralt can see he doesn’t want to talk about it, so the topic is dropped.

Years later—after Geralt screams his fury at Jaskier—the bard says in a broken voice, “Don’t worry, Geralt. I promise not to bother you anymore.”

The promise sears itself onto Geralt’s soul like a brand. One made of chaos, and he can feel it become binding.

Geralt whips around, but Jaskier was gone.

There are a few moments of confusion before Geralt realizes what just happened. Jaskier had promised, and that promise was sealed with chaos. Only the Fae have such an ability.

YESSSSSSS i love this Geralt has to track down Jaskier and prove that Jaskier doesn't bother him, and thus the promise is still ringing true, even as they continue traveling together

[ladytemeraire]

@kintatsujo

[ladytemeraire]

And part 2! I think she likes it 😊

[heybiji]

bed head

[nutsuya]

content. f! reader, no warnings, nothing. I’m in love this big ball of sunshine ;;

thinking about moving to a new place, sharing a little rooftop garden with your new neighbor — the upbeat guy that always seems to have an extra smile tucked in his back-pocket, umemiya. ray of sunshine that he is, his side is always blooming and growing, and yours simply pales in comparison to his. so much, that you almost considered forgoing the idea of taking the only spot next to his lot. gardening has always been a struggle for you but it’s ‘one of those things™’ that you do even when you’re not good at it just because the mere act of it makes you happy.

overtime, you start to wonder why your plants seem a little happier by the day, finally seeing that one stubborn seed sprout after over a month of perseverance — well, 50% persevering, 50% crying in agony. you suppose it has something to do with you resorting to doing ‘bountiful harvest rituals 101’ in your desperation, which mostly consisted of whispering sweet nothings to the dirt. but you, of sound mind, know that there must be more to it.

after thorough investigation (a.k.a. hiding behind the rooftop’s rusty ol’ toolshed) you find out that your golden retriever of a neighbor has been secretly tending your side, whispering sweet nothings to the dirt. it seems that ‘bountiful harvest rituals 101’ does work after all.

you even overhear him tell your little seedling, “can’t wait to see the smile on her face once she sees how big you’ve grown!”

[ladytemeraire]

Oh this got very concerned headtilts from my dog, 10/10

[gojisaurus]

matching t shirts

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Hear me out… it’s the same character

[ladytemeraire]

@kintatsujo​

Box turtles hibernate deep in the ground

[ladycibia]

We love you Cibia and hope life gets a little easier and calms down soon ❤️

Thank you ;v; I'm looking forward to summer vacation!

[dearsi]

A certain duchess is brought up again and again.

[yoroshiu]

When they first asked Ephemer if they should build the statue made in his image, his gut reaction was to decline.

The idea of seeing some kind of stone or metal version of himself was amusing at best and awkwardly strange at worst, and he wasn't the type to want giant memorials made in his honor in the first place. He joked that if they were going to do something like that, they should at least wait until after he passed on (Though they didn't laugh at it at all. It was always difficult to lighten up the mood, then and now). But they kept insisting for weeks. Everyone seemed determined to go through it. They told him he single-handedly built Scala ad Caelum from the bottom up. That he gathered the people and gave them all something to believe in.

If anything, Ephemer thinks, he built Scala to primarily give himself something to believe in. His ambition expanded into something more grandiose as he started to bring everyone else in—considering the future and what potentially could happen—but when you wake up with stinging eyes and lungs weighed down by smoke and dust, it's hard to imagine anything beyond the grief. Even now, thinking about a specific fedora, a rose, a tuft of blonde hair, a pair of star earrings, makes him want to cry (the Book mentions them—swept away in different times with the words describing something vague but ominous—and he's glad but also bitter and hateful. Why us? he thinks.). But that wasn't the heroic or motivational thing to say, so it was best for him to leave such truths to himself.

(He scours the book again for anything about a specific face, a description of a person he still wakes up in tears over. Some things in the text give him hope, but never as definite of an answer. There had to be something beyond a beam of light piercing them, beyond the agony that distorted their face, accenting the eyebags under their eyes. Ephemer didn't want that to be the last thing he did for them.)

When he finds himself at the unfinished fountain in the town square, an idea strikes him. Scala wasn't as bright as Daybreak Town and didn't have the colored roads and buildings that gave the world a life it lacked in other aspects. But it was a fountain, wasn't it? If there was a chance his friends could find the things he left behind long after his time, then...

When Ephemer is asked about the statue again, he says he wants it placed on top of the fountain. The room gives him a look, and when someone finds the courage to ask him why, he shrugs with a placid smile.

"I'm keeping my promises this time."