#i love them i love creek so much oh my damn god
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
my special boyszz….. creek has been my current THING, and i can’t stop, i adore them with all my heart and i am so pumped to drop some hcs:’) i think i’ll probably do a couple diff outfits for each of them soon, but NAYAYS, MEXICAN CRAIG YIPPEEE YAYAYAYAY
#i love them i love creek so much oh my damn god#creek#craig x tweek#craig tucker#tweek tweak#please let me know if i’m using any tags i shouldn’t graahhh#MY SILLIES IM SOBBING THEURE SO
14 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey! o was wondering if you could do resident evil 4 leon where he’s self aware and yandere for the reader bc they feel really bad for getting him hurt so often :(( they just aren’t used to the controls.
maybe the reader leaves the xbox or console or wtv on after they finished the game to let it update another game and leon didn’t want to let the reader go so he drags them into his world where they can’t get out?
Hehe yandere and thank you anon, you have given me more ideas.
You were playing the original resident 4, on the 27th anniversary of resident evil. It was very late at night when you started playing, around 3 am, playing before the new one comes out. You yawned as you stared at the clock, god you were up late. But just as you did so, Leon got bit by an arrow, making him stumble.
“Oh! Sorry, Leon!” You mumbled, concerned. For a moment you could almost swear you heard him chuckle.
You had finished the game for a while now, so you might as well get something to drink and go to sleep while you download another game.
It seemed like a certain person didn’t like that you were planning on playing another game after finishing his though. While you were getting a drink from the kitchen, the tv made a noise, making you turn to see the error in your download progress. You immediately run over to the tv to see what was going on, trying to navigate the menu with your controller. However the cursor would not move. It was stuck in the same place.
You were confused, this wasn’t normal, this shouldn’t be happening to your controller. But when you went to shut off the tv something else happened instead. The tv wouldn’t turn off, instead it opened Resident Evil 4, and showed only Leon’s face, staring, unblinking, blue turning to red eyes at the camera. At you.
“Come on, sweetheart, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He said, his mouth curling up into a grin. “And don’t think you’ll be getting away from me that easily, either.”
You took this opportunity to throw down the controller and bolt for your room. Just as you turned the corner down the hallway, you heard the glass of the tv. It was either cracking or something but you didn’t want to be around to see. You could hear his boots land on the floor the moment you closed your bedroom door as quickly and as quietly as you could, searching for a hiding spot. Damn your room and it’s bare floor! You slowly opened the closet and shimmied to the other side as quietly as you could and closed the door once more. It still was open by a crack, but you couldn’t do much with that. You could hear him coming down the hallway, thump, thump, thump.
You heard your door creek open.
“Sweetheart, don’t be scared. I just want you is all. Forever.” His voice was close.
You heard the light switch to your room flick on. You could see his shadow move about the room, see him move about your room, hear him look under your covers and under your bed. Moving your chairs and your things around to try and find you.
You could see his shadow move over to the closet, covering the crack of light that the small opening provided. You held your breath. With bated breath you watched as he rummaged around, grabbing a piece of clothing you couldn’t make out and pulling it to him. You heard him sigh and close the closet, and you waited. Waited for his footsteps to go away. Waited for some indication he was leaving.
The door suddenly flung open to reveal Leon standing there, not giving you any time to react as he grabbed you and held you close to him.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll love it at home. My home….our home.” He corrected himself as he carried you to the tv, your thrashing and squirming did little to deter him.
And with one swift motion into the tv.
You were gone.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I Could Drown Myself In Someone Like You
Part One
Title Comes From This Song:
You can find my other Biker!Bucky fic here:
Request: Hey girl I literally just found your blog and when I tell you I BINGED your Ride series. Please I beg could we have some more Biker Bucky? Maybe barmaid reader? I really don't mind as long as we get some BikerBuck!
Warnings: Mentions of unwanted physical attention. Future chapters will allude to past domestic abuse. If that isn't for you, please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx
Bucky pulled his bike into the parking lot of his bar and grill.
A customer stepped outside to light a cigarette and the light from inside spilled out into the dark, along with the music playing inside.
Bucky was nothing if not a creature of habit, every night he would ride his bike through winding forest roads, down to the creek, and sometimes he would lay on the riverbank smoking cigarettes like he and Steve used to do when they were teenagers, before they’d gone to war, before he’d been fucked up. Before he became whatever this version of himself was.
And then in the evenings he’d pull up here to his bar and drink nearly not enough whisky to drown out the nightmares in his cabin behind the bar.
Sighing, he let himself into the bar. Steve as always was pouring drinks and chatting easily in that light hearted way he had, Bucky would have been envious if he hadn’t loved him so much. Steve had managed to hold on to all the best parts of himself, but Bucky’s were buried somewhere in a bunker in the Middle East, and even if he wanted to, he could never get them back.
Sam was busy flipping steaks at the grill and gave Bucky a wide eyed grin as Bucky passed him by and pushed the swing door into the back office.
He stilled all action at the sight of a girl in his office on top of his chair, on her tiptoes still unable to reach the top shelf as she fumbled to reach something.
“Can I help you?” he said gruffly and god damn if he didn’t startle you half to death and nearly cause you to fall off the chair.
“I’m looking for the grenadine syrup, Steve said I would find it up here.”
“Oh he did, did he?” Bucky laughed “And did he also tell you it was fine to climb all over my shit in the process?”
“No, Sir,” you offered meekly, stepping gently down off his chair “I’m sorry,” but you couldn’t fight the smile that was threatening to spread across your face.
Bucky huffed and reached over your head with ease, pressing the bottle of grenadine into your hand.
“Next time Steve sends you on a mission like that, tell him to pull his lazy, tall ass in here and reach the damn top shelf himself,”
You smiled up at him, and he felt the ghost of a butterfly in his stomach.
“I’m y/n,” you offered with a smile and he couldn’t help but return a lopsided one himself.
“Bucky,” he returned.
Bucky made your mouth water, his tight black jeans were ripped at the knees, and he wore a well worn leather jacket but it did absolutely nothing to hide his muscular frame, his hair was long and messy and was just begging for you to run your hands through it. You had to shake all thoughts of him from your head as you returned to your shift.
“What’s her story?” Bucky asked Steve, eyeing you as you made your rounds and he sipped on his whisky.
“Why do you assume she has a story?” Steve cocked his head now following you in his line of sight too.
“C’mon Steve, no one ends up here unless they have a story. They’re either running away from something, or someone. Or they’re on their way to somewhere else, and they’re simply stopping off here.”
“Bucky,” Steve sighed, clapping him on the back “You always assume the worst in people.”
“And they always prove me right,” Bucky countered while taking another sip.
As you finished mopping the floor, you made your way into the back office, looking shy, wringing your hands, nervously.
“What is it?” Bucky asked.
“Sam said to talk to you about if it would be okay to get this week’s wages upright,” Bucky could see straight away how embarrassed you were “Bucky I wouldn’t ask, but the bnb are asking for payment upright and I’m just 40 bucks short.”
Bucky was reaching into his wallet straight away and you tried to put out a hand to stop him.
“Please..Please,” Bucky shook his hand and handed you some notes, you scrunched your eyebrow at his kindness.
“Take this for tonight and I’ll get you your full wages for your shift tomorrow.”
“I’ll pay you back Sir,” you said, voice so low it was almost a whisper and he shook his head softly.
“Let me give you a ride back,” he offered and you shook your head profusely.
“You’ve done enough for me tonight,” you reminded him, notes in your hand, “I’ll see you tomorrow for my shift.”
Bucky watched you go, and again that ghost of a butterfly fluttered in his stomach and he grimaced uncomfortably.
Bucky watched you over the next few nights, always the first to your shift and always the last to leave.
And every night you refused any offer to drive you home from him, Sam or Steve.
He was filling out papers in his office when he heard a gentle knock and you were before him.
“I wanted to give you this,” you said meekly with some notes in your hand , “I can’t thank you enough Bucky.”
“Doll,” he sighed, surprising even himself with the nickname “Please keep it, consider it a welcome gift.”
“If it’s all the same I would like to give it back to you,” you smiled, placing it on his desk “It was awful kind of you and I’ll never forget it.”
Before he could even respond you had dipped out of his office and began your shift.
The bar went quiet when a particularly menacing looking gang wandered into the bar, and immediately Steve and Sam stood to attention, you were in the back fetching more pitchers.
They seemed to be scouting the area out before choosing a table at the opposite end of the bar to settle at.
Steve caught your arm as you went to take their orders “Be careful,” he nodded towards them and you went to take their orders gingerly.
Amid the wolf whistles and cat-calls you finally managed to take their orders, which you promptly relayed to Sam and Steve.
After you had successfully served their food and first round of drinks, you retreated to behind the bar before they summoned you back again.
“C’mere baby,” one of them slurred pulling you onto his lap.
You initially tried to laugh off how uncomfortable you were, but when he wouldn’t let you wrangle free, you felt trapped and felt your panic begin to rise.
“Let me go,” you tried weakly when he began to try kissing your face, trapping your hands in his much stronger ones, you tried to make pleading eye contact with Steve but he was nowhere to be seen.
As he let go of your hands to toy with the waistband of your denim jeans you finally managed to bolt free, but when he grabbed your arm and spun you around you reacted with a swift slap to his face, shocking even yourself, but you were in no way expecting the sharp sting of a returning slap, tears welling in your eyes and hand flying up instinctively to your burning skin.
Everything else passed by in a blur as you recognised Steve and Bucky kicking into action, you just about managed to get your feet to move before you were collapsing down behind the bar, feeling the all too familiar feeling of a panic attack ripping through your body and the awful sensation of not being able to breath.
It seemed like hours before Bucky was before you where you sat, rocking back and forward, hands covering your ears.
“Doll,” he tried and you cowered away from him, he got down on his hunkers and gingerly reached for you, “it’s me doll, it’s Bucky. Breathe for me. Breathe for me.”
When you finally felt like you could breathe again Bucky went to fetch a glass of water and leaned up against the counter, arms folded, he examined you over, eyes honing in on the red, swollen skin of your cheek.
“I’m so sorry Bucky,” you finally broke the silence, refusing to meet his eye.
“Hey,” he shushed, dropping down to his hunkers in front of you again “You have nothing to apologise for!”
You couldn’t help the tears that sprung to your eyes with shame and you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.
You rolled your eyes and sniffed, “This was meant to be a fresh start, and it seems like trouble just follows me wherever I go.”
“What can I do doll?” Bucky said softly reaching out to put a reassuring hand on your knee, it was only then you realised his knuckles were bloody.
You realised with a startle that he had got his knuckles bloody for you.
“Can you take me home Buck,” you asked swiping your thumb over his knuckles, your silent thank you for the trouble they had gone to on your behalf.
Bucky pulled into the parking space of the bnb, and helped you take your motorcycle helmet off.
It had been weeks since you first reached town and Bucky was curious.
“What are you still doing here? You don’t want to find somewhere proper?”
“Nobody will rent to me,” you said sadly “I’ve tried everywhere. Even that shack out by the creek that’s been abandoned since before we were born. Nobody wants to rent to me because I’m an outsider.”
Bucky was suddenly angry at how the town had been treating you.
“Thank you for taking me home and I’m so sorry about tonight,” you said softly and Bucky turned to examine your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, your eyes fluttered closed at the touch and something jolted inside Bucky.
“You sure you’re okay?” he whispered and you nodded softly.
You stood gently on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow Buck.”
Bucky tossed and turned all night. He had briefly fallen asleep only to once again be woken by a nightmare. The same one. That same bunker. That same chair. But then something unexpected, when he tried to close his eyes again, your eyes were staring back at him, and if he was honest that was what was keeping him awake. He knew he was in trouble….
“Keep your coat on y/n,” Bucky ordered as you arrived for your shift.
“What? Why?” you cried, fearing you were being let go, Bucky huffed a laugh at your horrified expression, “Doll, you’re not fired. We’re taking a little road trip.”
You climbed onto his bike and held on tight to his torso, winding through Californian redwoods, the mountain air all around you.
Bucky finally pulled onto a little dirt track that led up to an opening in the trees and a singular cabin stood against the backdrop of a small lake.
“Come on,” he motioned, removing your helmet, and leading you inside.
It was cosy, the living room and kitchen were open plan and there was an old cast iron log burner in the middle of the room with logs stacked either side of it.
There was one room off the side which you assumed was the bedroom.
“Well, what do you think?” Bucky asked motioning around.
“It’s beautiful Buck,” you said, still unsure why he had brought you here “It’s a beautiful home.”
“It’s yours,” Bucky stated simply, back turned to you and hands on his hips.
“What?” you almost shrieked and he replied in the same nonchalant tone “It’s yours!”
“Bucky, wait!” you deadpanned, catching his shoulder and forcing him to turn around to look at you, eyes scanning his face until he conceded.
“It was my Mom’s cottage, and seeing as she’s not here anymore and I’ve got my place at the bar, I think you should have it, you can’t stay at that bnb forever. You need a place of your own.Plus it’s about time some life was breathed back into this place ”
“Buck,” you cried, eyes watering, not letting go of your hold on him “Are you sure?”
“It’s yours doll,” he whispered, eyes flicking briefly down to your lips, “For as long as you choose to stay, and I hope you do stay, it’s yours,”
You extended your hand out to him “You take the rent out of my wages,” you ordered, waiting for him to shake on your deal.
“Doll,” he sighed “The place was lying empty, I'm not going to charge you rent,” you looked like you were about to argue when he stuck his hand out too, “Counter offer, if you do this place up. Make it somewhere lived in and beautiful. Somewhere my Ma would be proud to look down on, then we’re quits.”
You nodded and shook his hand ferociously, tears threatening to spill.
“Thank you Bucky,” you whispered, pulling him into a hug and relishing in the feel of his strong arms around you, and your heart hammered in your chest when he placed a gentle kiss on your head.
After a month or two of working at the bar you had saved enough to buy a second hand, beaten up old pickup truck, and Sam brought you out to pick it up.
“Are you sure you want this hunk of junk y/n?” he argued but you were enamored and being able to drive it home to your cabin filled you with an enormous amount of peace.
You had been growing closer and closer with Bucky, sometimes he would stop by on your days off to do some of the diy you pestered him about on your shifts and if you were honest you really enjoyed the company.
The first few nights on your own in the cabin had been nothing short of terrifying. You weren’t used to being alone and on the second night a huge storm knocked all your power out and you shivered in bed all night terrified of the darkness.
Bucky came around the next morning and fixed your generator so that would never happen again.
“There,” Bucky sighed “All done!”
You came to join him on the porch and passed him a bottle of beer and he flicked a switch and the fairy lights he had hung all around the cottage flickered to light.
“They’re beautiful Buck,” you smiled, hugging him tightly, eyes lighting up like a child as you looked up at them.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he said softly, hands coming to rest on your waist, and his breath on your neck made you shiver.
“Bucky,” you tried softly but he cut you off with a kiss. You melted into his touch completely and he gently became more ferocious in the way he clasped your body and kissed your lips.
He backed you through the open door of the cottage until you collapsed down on the sofa and he climbed on top of you, he was making quick work of your shirt when you finally came to your senses.
“Wait, Wait,” you panted, hands planting on his chest “Maybe we should slow down for a moment.”
“You want me to slow it down baby doll?” he panted and you nodded gently.
“I’m not ready Buck,” you cried and Bucky suddenly noticed how terrified you looked, feeling guilty that he had pushed you to a place you weren’t ready for yet.
“I can wait babygirl,” he promised, cupping your face in both of his hands “I can wait.”
“Bucky, no. No.” you cried, pushing him away with your leg and running your hands through your hair, “I can’t do this,” you cried.
Bucky sat still on your sofa not quite sure what to do for a moment “You don’t want this?”
You shook your head, tears springing to your eyes “It’s not that Buck, it's just I can’t be what you need right now. I can’t be with you like this.”
“What do you think I need?” he rose gently “All I need is you,” he countered
“Hey, hey, why are you crying?” he shushed brushing your hair behind your ears “Don’t cry.”
“Please Buck,” you were pleading, “Please can you just leave, I can't do this. It’s too much for me.”
Bucky was torn between wanting to assure you some more and respecting your request for him to leave. He hesitated just a moment too long for you to take it the wrong way completely, your eyes were wide and ferocious like an animal that had been cornered.
He scratched the back of his neck before he could find his voice “Doll, if I’ve read this wrong-”
“-You have,” you snapped “You’ve read this wrong and I need you to leave now, please,” you paced until you found his leather jacket hanging across the back of a chair and tossed it to him.
He couldn’t help the anger of rejection that rose up in his chest, and the shame for having read the situation so wrong.
“Fine. Fine. I’m going,” he sighed, pulling his jacket on and stomping towards the door.
“You know what..” he started one hand on the handle, but stopping to face you “Forget it,” he deadpanned, pulling the door open and slamming it behind him.
Work the next few days were less awkward than expected, Bucky and his bike were nowhere to be seen. You’d heard Steve mention to Sam that he was worried that Bucky was gone on another whisky fuelled bender and you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that gnawed away at your stomach.
Days turned into a week with no contact from Bucky and the guilt was eating you alive. You had texted him days ago to apologise, and asking if you could talk it out and explain, but he never replied. Not only were you angry with yourself for fucking everything up but now you were really beginning to worry.
You were closing the bar by yourself tonight, it was a quiet Tuesday night and business was slow. You knew Steve had a date after work so you dismissed him early so he could go buy her some flowers he’d kissed you on the cheek and almost skipped out of the bar.
It gave you the opportunity to pop your headphones in and listen to your music as you mopped and cleaned.
It was nice to do a deep a clean without Steve or Sam trying to hurry you out.
And as you made your way into the back office to put away the takings into the safe your heart almost fell out of your chest.
Bucky was laying back in his office chair, eyes squeezed shut while some girl with her skirt hitched up at the sides was grinding her hips on him, her own head thrown back in ecstasy as she rode him.
You froze on the spot, you couldn't help the way your stomach sank to your toes in a feeling of betrayal, or the way your eyes stung with tears.
Bucky wasn’t yours, you had seen to that with your stupidity the other night so you had no right to feel the way you were right now and when his electric eyes suddenly bore into yours with an expression you honestly couldn’t read you were backing out of his office quicker than lightning.
He followed you out into the carpark catching you just as you were about to climb into your truck.
“Doll,” he reached for you exasperated, “Doll wait, please.”
You turned to face him, tears rolling down your cheeks, and he reached for you gently, relieved when you didn’t bat him away as he cupped your face.
“I have no right to be crying,” you sighed.
“I don’t understand,” He stuttered, somewhere between annoyed and confused,” I thought you didn’t want me?”
“Bucky, of course I-” You were about to answer when Bucky’s name being yelled across the lot caught both of your attention.
“What the fuck is this?” The girl who had been with Bucky only moments before came storming over and smacked him straight across the face as hard as she could.
“You always fucking do this shit James,” she cried “This is the last fucking time.”
She looked at you genuinely hurt and for a moment you wanted to apologise, until her expression turned to contempt.
“Seriously, this is who you keep blowing me off for?” she huffed out a laugh, “Good luck with that, you’ll be crawling back to me in no time.” You felt yourself shrink down to half your size under her words.
She took one last seething glare at Bucky before smacking him again and he made no move to stop her, watching guiltily as she stormed away.
“I deserved that,” he said glumly, you made a face to argue when he cut you off, “No doll, I truly deserve it. Hell if you wanted to have a pop too I would understand.”
“Buck,I don’t want to slap you” you sighed and he ran a hand through his hair before kicking at the dirt.
“Then what the hell do you want y/n? Goddamn it.”
You were floundering like a fish out of water, trying to grasp at words and coming up short.
“You wouldn’t understand,” you tried and he cut you off with a pointed finger.
“Don’t give me that shit,” he warned “You literally could not throw me out faster the other day and then you turn up crying when I’m clearly fucking trying to get over you so what is it? You don’t want me but you don’t want anyone else to have me?”
“No,” you scoffed, your own anger rising now too.
“No” he repeated exasperatedly, “So what do you want?”
“I- I don’t know,” you mumbled.
“You don’t know?” he goaded and goddamn was he intimidating, looking at you like a predator stalks his prey, waiting for an answer to pounce “Well, I sure as shit can’t figure that out for you sweetheart,” he sighed, running the back of his hand across his lips, before spitting on the ground.
You were not used to this Bucky, this agitated, whiskey drunk version of him. The one most people were used to. But not you.
“Look, just go,” he sighed eventually, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.
“I don’t know what you want, but it sure as shit ain’t me. And I'm done with whatever the fuck this is.”
You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, tears welling in your eyes as you reached for the handle of your truck door and pulled it open, gasping back in fright when Bucky slammed it closed suddenly, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He looked like he was going to yell at you but nothing could have prepared you for what came next.
“Don’t go,” he pleaded. “Please don’t go,”
Trapped between his body and the door of your truck you melted into his touch, whimpering as he leaned forward to capture your lips with his own demanding ones.
Tagging:
@spookyparadisesheep @jbbarnesgirl @salvatoreitmeanssaviour@princesscornbread @loki-laufeyson-1054 @firstcashheroathlete @missvelvetsstuff nana1000night sapphire-rogers @sarahrogersevans @steverogerssimpp @spudinthemud @mrsragnarlodbrok @buckgasms @miss-patriciah-maximoff @hellomissmabel @knittingknerdy @shamvictoria11 @buckysberrie @assembletheimagines @dearthofequanimity @wellthatsrandomkek @mitra-k-w @nikkitia7 @fantasticimpaladoctor @feelmyroarrrr @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @andhiseyesweregreen @frickin-bats @buckyywiththegoodhair @iiharu-kunii @bellenuit45-blog @james-bionic-barnes @avengerofyourheart @jaegers-and-kaijus princess76179 brasspistol thelittleredrobinhood
#bucky x reader#biker!bucky#bucky x you#bucky barnes#bucky x reader angst#bucky barnes au#biker#volklana writes
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
WIP with some cute, it's not finished yet but oh my god i love it
@magicandmundane @fuzzytheoristtyrant congrats you two liked the thing you made me smile I am giggling i love this
~~
The hatchling’s nostrils twitched, soft snuffles picking up in intensity. He lifted his angular head and immediately locked on to Brom.
Eyes of warm, brilliant amber, sharp and inquisitive, met the old Rider’s gaze. Brom hastily put a finger to his lips as the creature let out a burble of question, gangly limbs already disentangling from velvet wings. Of course he didn’t understand, a chuff of annoyance squeaking out as he stepped on the tip of his tail.
“‘Nuff, lil.” Brom winced. Arya’s groggy mumble was accompanied by a closed eye drag of her forearm, blindly trying to pull the hatchling back towards her. “Back’a sleep.”
The hatchling half hopped, half tripped out of her reach.
And, to Brom’s silent amazement, raked his hind legs and kicked a wayward pillow into the elf’s still loose embrace.
‘Smart for a little thing.’
Seemingly satisfied that his caretaker was nuzzling the pillow, the emerald hatchling dropped to the ground. Soft wings spread for a few measly feet of lift, a bit of a stumbled landing clattering muted ivory claws into the mossy stone.
That was that. A dragon hatchling, a hundred years late, was sniffing at Brom’s boots. The creature lifted a paw, the scales startlingly lighter than the deep green of his back, and sank his claws into the leather, a hiss of warning at the new intruder now at his level.
Brom could not help his smile. A hatchling. A real, live hatchling! And a new Rider! They could not be far, not with the hatchling so undeniably new.
“Hello there, little one.” Brom whispered. He carefully lowered himself to kneel, reaching out to gently pry the talons from his shoeleather. Stars knew the damn things couldn’t take much more regular wear and tear, not to mention a dragon having at them. “Hello. Where’s your partner at, then?”
The hatchling’s nostrils flared, smoke billowing out in twin streams as the elder Rider’s fingers came towards him. It was all Brom could to yank his hand away as the dragon’s head darted forward with a sharp, loud hiss, needle-like teeth snapping shut millimeters away from his fingertips. “Easy! Alright, it’s alr–”
“No!”
Stars flashed and blood roared in his ears. Something was on top of him, slammed him away and out of the doorway, rolling and spitting and snarling locked against his arms and digging into his side. The crashing and turning ended with a thud, grit digging at the back of his head, blood streaming from his nose, ribs screaming louder than he could suck in a breath to actually voice. He could taste pine needles and sap and dirt and there was fire above him and–
Everything stopped.
“...Brom?”
The voice was quiet, shaking.
Brom risked cracking open an eye.
“At least…” The elder Rider managed to wheeze as Arya shifted the position of her knee against his ribcage, clambering off him. “Your protective instincts…are still there.”
“Please. Please.” Brom frowned. Arya wasn’t talking to him. She was looking over her shoulder, where the hatchling was half flapping, half stumbling an unseemly little run towards her where they ended up against the rocks beside the creek. “Don’t do that again. Wake me up first.”
An affronted squall was all that met her plea, a rough puff of smoke trailing behind the darting green head.
“I’m sorry.” Ah, now she was talking to him. “I…everything happened so fast, it’s been…we just got here, and…” Careful of his still ringing head, Arya helped her old mentor into a sitting position, a quiet spell resetting his broken nose. “I’m sorry.”
Brom rubbed his face free of blood with the back of his sleeve. “Don’t let me get in the way of your duties.” Even so, he scanned the clearing, looking for the necessary third person for this odd meeting to even occur. “You shouldn’t keep him here though, not when he’s so small. He needs to be with his partner as much as possible now. Where are they? Was it Alana or Dusan?”
“...About that.” A happy chirp and flap of still-unprepared wings, and the gangly green hatchling landed upon the elf’s shoulder. Arya’s hand shot up to help him balance, the motion so instinctive Brom couldn’t help but wonder if…
If it wasn’t the first time.
His eyes widened, a certain giddiness rising in his chest as a smile brighter than the damn sun began spreading across his face.
“Brom, I…” He could feel her shaking from the hand on his back, all her mottled joy and trepidation and uncertainty and elation tangling in her wavering voice. “I’m the only one who touched his egg.”
A low, rumbling purr, so, so familiar to him yet separated by over a century, rose at the Crags of Tel'naeír once again as the green hatchling rubbed his rough cheek against Arya’s. Even in the dark of night, Brom could see the unmistakable match of the brilliant scales to the bright flecks in the woman’s eyes.
“Brom, he…he hatched for me.” Arya let him reach up and take her left hand. With trembling fingers, pride and jubilation fit to burst from his skin, Brom turned it palm up.
Moonlight caught in the silver mark that now graced the elf’s hand.
And Brom laughed. He laughed and felt tears springing up at the corners of his eyes.
“Stars above!” He couldn’t help himself. The words came without his direction, and he let them roll off his tongue as if they were meant to be and set into the fabric of the world and all was finally, finally well. “Both my damn kids are Dragon Riders!”
#wip#modern inheritance#brom is surrogate dad to arya we all know this#modern inheritance stories#brom#arya#arya drottningu#ket's modern inheritance cycle#brom is everyone's dad#firnen#babby firnen#he has no name yet#current wip#wip wednesday
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
And if I asked you to assign four Taylor songs to each Classics department member 🫶🏻🫶🏻
I hope you all know how LONG I spent on this, and how much thought I put into my choices. So if you disagree I don’t care and I don’t want to hear it ✋ talk to the hand…..anyway enjoy <3
The Greek Class (Taylor’s Version):
Richard:
• I look in people’s windows
Standout lyric: So I look in people's windows/Like I'm some deranged weirdo/I attend Christmas parties from outside
• mirrorball
Standout lyric: I'm a mirrorball/I can change everything about me to fit in
• Florida!!! (except it’s about Hampden)
Standout lyric: I need to forget, so take me to Florida/I've got some regrets, I'll bury them in Florida/Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable/At least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, Florida
• Wonderland
Standout lyric: Ooh, didn't it all seem new and exciting?/I felt your arms twisting around me/It's all fun and games 'til somebody loses their mind
Charles:
• Innocent
Standout lyric: I guess you really did it this time/Left yourself in your warpath/Lost your balance on a tightrope/Lost your mind tryin' to get it back
•This is me trying
Standout lyric: They told me all of my cages were mental/So I got wasted like all my potential/And my words shoot to kill when I'm mad/I have a lot of regrets about that
• Dear reader
Standout lyric: So I wander through these nights/I prefer hiding in plain sight/My fourth drink in my hand/These desperate prayers of a cursed man
• Don’t blame me
Standout lyric: Don't blame me, love made me crazy/If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Camilla:
• Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve
Standout lyric: If you'd never looked my way/I would've stayed on my knees/And I damn sure never would've danced with the devil/At nineteen/And the God's honest truth is that the pain was heaven
• right where you left me
Standout lyric: 'Cause I'm right where/I cause no harm, mind my business/If our love died young, I can't bear witness
• seven
Standout lyric: Please picture me/In the weeds/Before I learned civility/I used to scream ferociously/Any time I wanted
• Carolina
Standout lyric: Oh, Carolina creeks/Running through my veins/Lost I was born, lonesome I came/Lonesome I'll always stay
Henry:
• Mastermind
Standout lyric: What if I told you I'm a mastermind?/And now you're mine/It was all by design/‘Cause I'm a mastermind
• Look What You Made Me Do
Standout lyric: I don't like your little games/Don't like your tilted stage/The role you made me play of the fool/No, I don't like you
• Everything Has Changed
Standout lyric: All I know is a simple name/And everything has changed
• Robin
Standout lyric: Strings tied to levers,/slowed down clocks tethered,/all this showmanship/To keep it, for you,/In sweetness/Way to go tiger
Francis:
• Anti-Hero
Standout lyric: It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me/At tea time, everybody agrees/I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror/It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero
• The Archer (fun fact, this was originally on Richard’s, but I wanted to avoid repeats, so I switched it for Florida!!!. #soulmates)
Standout lyric: I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost/The room is on fire, invisible smoke/And all of my heroes die all alone/Help me hold onto you
• I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
Standout lyric: They shake their heads saying, "God, help her"/When I tell them he's my man/But your good Lord doesn't need to lift a finger/I can fix him, no, really I can
• You’re Losing Me (Booooo loser!!!! Kys!!!!)
Standout lyric: And I wouldn't marry me either/A pathological people pleaser/Who only wanted you to see her
+ Bonus one (1) ☝️ Bunny song because I felt bad for not including him:
This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things:
• This is why we can't have nice things, honey (oh)/Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me?/This is why we can't have nice things
#also this was fun you guys should ask me to do this more often hint hint nudge nudge#answered asks#the secret history
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s a tie between Treat and Both!
I only voted to get early results
🍬 Treat! 🍭
(MC x Leon Halloween Short)
—————
MC: “Leon, you don’t have to come with me to Trick or Treating. You’ve been invited to your basket ball team’s party.”
Leon: “Aww 🥺, but what’s the fun of a party without my best friend there?!”
MC: (Damn, you have a point there)
Leon: “Besides, your brother and I can finally show off our costumes!”
Leon wags his werewolf tail as well as his ears.
Newt, walking to a neighboring house, flaunts his Beetlejuice outfit he spent a hot minute on to the neighbor. The neighbor then gave him two pieces of candy for his costume.
Leon: “Hey, by the way, where’s your costume?”
MC: “Oh, I don’t have one, I was just out to accompany my brother since his friends were at a party. I’m too old for this.”
Leon: “What?! You’re never too old for Trick or Treating. Just look at these adults in costumes!”
MC: “But Leon, they have children, the kinda have to.”
Leon: “If you’re going out, then I’m getting a costume for you! I’ll be right back!” He said, running off before MC could say something back.
MC just takes a look a Newt, having a blast. The last time he went Trick or Treating was back when he was 15, only to have a classmate giving out candy laugh at him because “He’s too old for this”. Well Deborah, not everybody’s fortunate enough to be invited to a party.
It was only 15 minutes, but he already saw Leon charging at him like a bull holding a (cymethoid) costume.
Oh God, I have to wear That?!
Leon just huffed and puffed, holding out the costume.
Leon: “here…. I got… this… I made…. Two years ago.”
MC: “Leon, you made this!”
Leon: “Yeah, last year’s robot costume broke, and the stores were all either closed or packed, so I got this! Here! It even has its own mask if you’re embarrassed of showing yourself.”
MC: “Oh, he thought about that 🥺.” He said, looking at the handmade costume.
MC the puts steps into the costume like a jumpsuit, and looks at the creepy helmet, debating on whether to put it on or not.
MC puts in on, and Leon smiles.
Leon: “There! Now we can both go Trick or Treating!”
The two then walked towards Newt, only to see that he was 6 houses ahead of them.
When the Newt sees the two, he’s flabbergasted by MC’s costume for a moment, before he laughs.
Newt: “Wow Big Bro, I didn’t know you wanted to join, let’s alone craft costumes in 20 minutes.”
Leon: “Actually, I made it.”
Newt: “Cool! Anyways, let’s go down that busy neighborhood there! I heard they have the best candy!”
Leon: “Yeah!”
MC then smiled a little seeing the two so happy, he hasn’t felt this much excitement in Halloween since he was 14.
MC: “Hey, wait for me!” He said, excitingly running towards them.
The three then filled their baskets to the brim with a butt-load of candy, they were getting both sugar rushes and crashes tonight!
~~~
8:30 PM
~~~
Newt: “Alright Everybody! Let’s see our loads!” He said, dumping the contents of his basket onto the floor.
Leon and MC then dumped their contents to the floor as well, and they all sorted out candy they want and didn’t like.
MC: “Dang, we only have two sugar pops?! I love those!”
Newt: “We could have had more if you just entered the haunted house. Leon was willing to protect you like he did with those trolls at the other houses.”
MC: “But I hate jumpscares in closed spaces! Not even Leon’s protection would stop me from jumped at even the slightest sound!”
Leon: “It’s alright, you didn’t have to go in if you didn’t want to.”
MC then looked at Leon and layed his head on his shoulder.
MC: “Thanks! I had fun tonight.”
Leon: “Ah! Well, you’re welcome!” He said, looking away to hide the pink on his face.
Newt: “Hey! We have enough candy to last us an entire Halloween movie!” He said, debating between choosing The Corpse Groom or Creek and Friends: The Haunted Pumpkin”
Leon: “Ooh! Let choose the Corpse Groom! I love that movie!”
MC: “Yeah, let’s watch that!”
Newt: “Alright! He said playing the movie”
And the three sat down together on the couch.
—————
😈 Trick and Treat 🍬
(Leon x MC x Vincent)
—————
MC: Oh my Goodness, of course they just BOTH had to be here on Halloween!
Vincent: “Hey! My Honey and I were about to go pulling Pranks tonight!”
Leon: “And I got here first! He’s going trick or treating with me!”
Newt: “LADIES! LADIES!! CALM DOWN!!! Yeesh! I know you both want to hang out with Big Bro, but you don’t have to ruin his night by fighting.”
Vincent: “Ah, sorry, we’re working on it.”
Leon: “Sorry. 😞”
MC: “You two can join us.”
Both boys agreed without excitement, and just silently distanced from each other.
When they came up to their first house, Vincent suddenly gave MC some eggs and toilet paper.
Vincent: “psst, hey, Honey, let’s prank this house.”
MC: “w-why?! That’s so mean! Besides, we’ll get in trouble.”
Vincent: “serves them right, they’re one of the two faced liars who use to be my so-called ‘friends’.” he said in a bitter tone.
Leon: “Vincent, we shouldn’t be egging other people’s houses, even if we do have history with them.”
Vincent: “What?! It’s call Trick or Treat for a reason.”
Newt: “Vincent, Don’t.” He said, knocking on the door.
The person opened the door, and scoffed at the sight of Vincent.
Newt: “Trick or Treat!”
“Friend”: “Oh, nice costume, I see you’ve joined your brother on sucking on his new Sugar daddy’s d**k.” They said, throwing a single black licorish candy into Newt’s basket and slamming the door.
MC: “damn, this may be video game writing, but that’s just cold…”
Newt: “Vincent, we’re egging this f**kers house.”
Vincent: “That’s what I like to hear!” He said, gladly giving him the supplies.
The 4 threw eggs, toilet paper, and spray paint all over the house before scurrying away.
Leon: “Ok, no more houses of enemies. I only joined because they deserved it after what they said to us.”
Vincent: “Suuureeee, say that to yourself to supress you inner demon.”
Leon: “I’m serious! No more pranks, even if we have to avoid half the houses here!”
Vincent: “Fiiiiinneeee… here, this house doesn’t belong to anybody I hate.” He said, pointing to a small green house in the shadows.
When they all when up to it, they saw an old couple outside waiting, their bowl full of candy.
Old Woman: “Ah, finally! Welcome!”
Old Man: “We’ve been waiting all night for Trick or Treaters, thank you for coming here.”
Old Woman: “And such lovely costumes you have.”
Leon: “Aww, thank you!” He said, grabbing some candy.
The rest join in.
MC: “So, why doesn’t anybody come here?”
Old Man: “Some group of boys were mad that we ran out of candy one year when they came by, so they spread rumors of us spitting into the candy.”
MC: oh…
Newt: “Welp, I’m glad we dropped by, are these Newman’ Os, I love those!”
Vincent: “Newman’ Os, what?!!”
Newt: “They’re offbrand.”
Leon: “Anyways, thanks for letting us stop by!”
Old Woman: “And thank you for visiting, come back next year.”
Leon: “We will!”
When the group finishes their Trick or Treating, they all put their buckets of candy on the table to sort out for later, and start decorating the cookies with the frosting they left in the fridge while they were out.
Vincent: “I bet I can make a better cookie of Honey.”
Leon: “Oh no you won’t!” Mines will be way better than yours, watch!”
The two boys ended up creating two cookies of MC manifested into a blob monster. Meanwhile, the brothers finished their decorating.
Leon: “Hey, we need you to decide which one is better.”
The two then shamefully hold out the two cookies, MC flabbergasted at both of them.
MC: “Oh, wow, that’s…”
Vincent: “C’mon honey, my cookie has less frosting smudges.”
Leon: “-And my cookie actually got the colors right.”
MC: “They’re, umm.”
Newt: He grabs the cookies and eats them both. “They both have waaay to much frosting and dye.”
MC: Saved! Thank you little bro for the 100th time.
Newt: You’re Welcome!
MC: Wait, did you just read my-
Newt: “Anyways, scary movie time!”
The boys just look disappointed for the lack of a clear winner as they take all the cookies to the living room.
MC: “Oohh! Night of the Fleas! I love that movie! It’s so gorey!”
Newt: “Don’t you hate that movie Because of the gore?”
MC: “I-umm, can change my tastes…”
Vincent: “Yeah!”
Leon: “Vincent, this movie literally has a guy’s head explode with fleas.”
Vincent: “oh, Nevermind… for once my honey’s tastes are terrible.”
MC: “What was that?”
Vincent: “Nothing honey!”
Leon: “Naaah, I’m pretty sure he said your tastes were trash.”
Vincent: “No I didn’t-”
MC: “HEY! Look! It’s Pumpkin Busters! Let’s watch that instead!”
Newt: “Finally, a movie we all don’t hate.”
Vincent: “acutally.”
All three of them just look at Vincent with angry eyes.
Vincent: “Nevermind, Pumpkin Busters it is.”
—————
Note: Meep!
#syvnh#stuck in a yandere visual novel...help#stuckinyanvn#syvnh mc#syvnh leon#syvnh newt#syvnh vincent
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
IM SCREAMING OH MY GOD MONANA
this is great i’m squealing AAHHHHAJSJDJAJBSNANSN
RALPHIE im giggling so hard ur literally turning into me. everyone who witnessed the beginning of the creek fixation can vouch for me when i say j asked anyone and everyone abt them id he like hey can u listen to this song <3
when i found out a couple of my mutuals were creekers before me (shoutout ghostie zombie and joe) i jumped for joy and squealed and cheered i was ESTATIC. i love finding fellow creekers so damn much
#desire mona#media#YAY!!!!!!!#i cant stop saying yay im just so happy#:3#shes my collar - gorillaz#ask#neilph
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Black Creek Diner
For: anonymous
Prompt: New waitress in northkill Laura and oh Travis just really likes the food there trust me guys TRUST ME ( Kaylee Chris are with him when he first sees her and they know he’s gonna be a goner )
Pairing: Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney
-----------------------------------------------
-----------------------------------------------
The first time Travis ate at the Black Creek diner, he didn't think much of it. The food was mediocre at best and the atmosphere was bland and boring.
At least the coffee was good.
Black Creek resembled any other backwoods diner he had ever entered. The one difference between Black Creek and any other diner was the frequent patronage of his brother and the presence of their new waitress.
He shoulda known what was happening the second Chris rode up with his kids and a sparkle in his eye, begging Travis to go with them and "be a family for once in your life Trav."
A step into the diner and Travis was acosted with three things at once.
First, the diner smelled like burning grease.
Second, Mr. Bronson was making a fool of himself again.
And third, the absolute knockout of a waitress he was trying to yell at was having none of his shit.
Waiving Chris and the kids into a booth, he made his way over to the source of the commotion.
God damnit its his day off too.
Travis has had plenty of experience dealing with John Bronson. The man was loud, disgusting and drunk 90 percent of the time. He's spent enough time locked up in the station that Travis probably knew his whole life story by now.
"What seems to be the problem here?" Travis wore his role as north kill sheriff well. He knew he could act as stern and hardass as any of em. Today was just one of the days he didn't want to have to do it.
Travis towered behind the waitress. Glowering over the top of her head to scare the man in the booth.
"You know you ain't supposed to be causing trouble John"
He could feel the woman stiffen at his proximity. From the corner of his eye, he watched her turn and gape at him.
The drunk bastard paled. Even had the audacity to look at the waitress he was just harassing for help. As if help was going to come from her after all his bullshit.
"Sheriff Hackett I was just.."
He held up his hand to stop the man from continuing his excuses. Earning a huff of amusement from the woman standing beside him.
God n everybody knew what he was "just" doing. Travis wasn't gonna have it today.
"I don't want to hear your excuses John. Get outta here before I throw you in the cells for a cool down. Don't make me have to do my job today"
Travis watched as the portly man pulled himself from the booth to stumble home. Pulling the man back. He looked him dead in the eye to deliver his next line, making damn sure the man heard him.
"And for the love of christ John. Pay for your meal and call your sister to come pick you up."
He released John and stood back. Raising an eyebrow to show that he was dead serious. the man probably sensed how done Travis was with him because he nodded, red-faced and shamed.
"Sure thing Sheriff"
Travis wanted to make damn sure that waitress wasn't going to get harassed more. So he stood with her until John finally opened the door to leave.
Well...he might also have some ulterior motives by keeping her company.
"You didn't have to do that" The waitress moved to stand in front of him. Peering up at him with a wry grin on her face.
Beautiful blue eyes danced with mirth. He couldn't help but feel enchanted by her. Travis fought the urge to reach down and tug at a stray piece of her hair while she was talking. He wished he could feel the silky golden locks tangle through his fingers as he played with it.
Shaking his head to clear the fantasies from them, Travis turned his attention back to her. He fixed her with his best smile.
Hoping she didn't notice his absentmindedness.
"Well miss ......" Travis trailed off. He didn't know her name.
He looked down to read the name tag pinned to her chest and caught himself looking a little to hard at parts that weren't a nametag. Feeling the sting of mortification, he blushed.
He shot his eyes back up to hers quickly. Travis coughed, really hoping she didn't notice where his gaze went.
It'd be just his luck to scare away the prettiest girl hed ever seen by accidentally being a pervert.
When he caught Laura's eye. He knew he'd been had. The twinkling in her own blue gaze set the tips of his ears to burn in embarrassment. He rushed to finish his statement. Hoping to go sit down with his family and not cause the poor woman anymore trouble
"I'm just doing my job. The local Sheriff can't be off duty, even when he is."
She smiled a bright, toothy grin at him and waved him off. The swish of her checkered dress at her thighs hypnotized him.
Turning to old Marge behind the counter, Laura leaned over it to speak to the old woman.
"Hey Marge, can we get Sheriff Hackett something on the house?"
"For scaring away John? Absolutely sweetie. Whatever he wants"
"You didn't have to...." Stuttering, Travis finally got himself to moving. He caught the end of the booth his family was in and tried to look nonchalant.
He didn't notice Caleb had been smearing ketchup along the top of it until his hand rested smack dab in the middle of it.
Disgusting.
He must have made a face at the mess because Laura's responding laugh was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.
Travis nearly missed grabbing the wet rag she tossed at him.
What a fool. Turned into a nervous wreck at the sight of a beautiful woman.
"Of course I did." Laura took back the rag and waved him into the booth, "Now, sit with your family. I'll be back to take your order"
Travis shakily took the menu from Chris. Catching his brothers eye and narrowing his own in return. He could see the wheels turning in his brothers head
What mischief did Chris have planned?
"You just earned yourself an admirer Trav."
"Shut up man, I was just doin my job"
"Miss Laura never thanks anyone for helping her out. You're the first....ever"
Travis just about reached over to smack Chris with the menu. Luckily for Chris, his children were present and Ma taught him better than that.
he still really wants to do it.
It was then that little Kaylee started screaming about waffles and the whole incident was quickly forgotten.
Travis ended up spending the rest of his meal dodging little fingers covered in syrup and helping Chris contain the mess that his two children were determined to cause.
His brother's little quip about Laura was quickly forgotten in the aftermath of the 2023 pancake apocalypse.
The woman herself wasnt.
The next week. Travis came in alone, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beautiful waitress and knowing he'd chicken out when it came to actually asking her for anything.
The tinkle of the door alerted Marge to his patronage and she waved him over.
Walking up to the counter, he looked around for Laura. Hoping to catch a glimpse of her golden curls or ocean blue eyes.
Unluckily for Travis. He didn't see her. Just old Marge manning the register and snapping at Mickey in the back. He stopped at the seat that would be his usual and adjusted his collar in anticipation. Fidgeting with the too hot uniform was a nervous habit he could never quite break.
He really hoped Laura was here. Maybe she was just somewhere in the back.
Travis jumped as the older woman slapped down a menu and some utensils. Smirking at him with that knowing smirk she's had since he was a wee one clinging to his mothers skirts.
"Laura's on break round back if you want to see her?"
Travis startled visibly. All wish for coffee deserted him in the wake of her cheerful accusation. He felt the tips of his ears burn again and stuttered out a response.
Is he that transparent?
"I don't..... I don't really know her that well Marge." His hand reached back to run through his hair. It was another nervous habit he couldn't seem to break.
The old woman turned to wave him away. Grabbing the coffee pot and setting that and a cup in front of him.
"Just between you and me Travis, she couldn't shut up about you. Every time Chris and the kids come in, she's always asking about you. Take it from me kid, go round back. Give her a holler."
If Travis just happened to miss the woman pull out her phone in his haste to get out the door...well. He can blame it on the poor lighting.
Somewhere in a house down the road, Chris recieved a text from old Marge and cheered.
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Find you ☆ Chapter 2
👉 Click here to go to chapter 1! 🌌
👉 On AO3 chapter 5 is already out 👽
Fandom ☆ South Park
Ships ☆ KenMan ♡ KenEric (Eric Cartman x Kenny McCormick), Clybe (Bebe StevensxClyde Donovan) and Creek (Tweek TweakxCraig Tucker). There might be some glimpses of other ships.
Characters ☆ Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman, Tweek Tweak.
Rating ☆ M
Warnings ☆ Swearing, violence, fluffiness. They are aged up here. It starts when they are 14 but happens mostly when they are 18, at the last year of school.
Chapter summary ☆ At school, Kenny isn't feeling so good and Tweek stays with him; at night, he gets an unexpected call.
☆ 1013 words ☆
With love: (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧ Stan
I have the first class with Tweek, which is nice because we have become close with the years.
“Hey man, are you feeling better?” He asks as the teacher goes on about who knows what.
“Not really, I feel worse… but don't say a word to Kyle!” He shakes a little harder than usual.
“You know I won't!”
“Yeah, sorry. It's just that I hate it when he tells me what to do.”
“I know, hanging out with him can be way too much pressure.” I smile. Fine choice of words. “Don't you want to go to the infirmary?”
“I'll be fine! What's your next class?”
“Chemist.”
“Oh, I have English. See you at lunch, then.” I walk away, but he catches up to me.
“I’ll just skip that, man. You don’t look so good.” We end up going to Stark's Pond.
“Are you sure about this, isn’t it too much pressure?” I say, mocking his motto, he flips me off and I snort. It is still funny that he got that from Craig.
“This is better than school,” says Tweek, looking at the nature.
“Damn right,” I lay down. “I’ll try to sleep, maybe that’s all I need.” Tweek takes a sweater out of his backpack and puts it over me.
“Aww, that’s sweet man. Thank you for staying with me.” He smiles. “If Craig ever gets too stupid, dump him and choose me instead.” I wink at him and he looks nervous for a second, just before he remembers I like to tease him like that.
“If you can joke around, then I guess you are not feeling that bad, right?” I feel like shit, but this cheers me up a bit.
I sleep for a couple of hours, until it starts getting too cold, so we go home. If I’m lucky, no one will be around. Inside the house, Cartman calls. That’s weird, he usually just texts or sends endless voice messages.
“How is it going?”
“Everything is so shitty today I want to kick myself in the nuts.” I laugh. He has his unique way to curse and I have grown fond of it. “But whatever, whatever! Soon it will be different. You’ll see, Kenny.”
“Oh, yeah?” But lately it feels like everything is out of control. Maybe it always was. “How so?”
“Don’t be an asshole, Kenny, if you push me I’ll tell you and you’ll ruin the surprise!”
“Ok then, I’ll hang up,” I say calmly.
“Don’t. Just tell me what’s new.”
“Well,” I have to think about something that doesn’t have to do with my shitty life. "Oh, right! Stan dumped Wendy."
“You mean that Wendy dumped Stan? That's not new!” He answers with a scoff, a grin grows on my face.
“No, idiot! I said Stan dumped Wendy! He did it.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No.”
“That's fucking awesome.”
“Yes, I was sick of them. Stan gets all dark and goth,” I say, finally laying in bed.
"Screw that hippie bitch!”
“You are just pissed at her because you never got her to like you.” I hear him groan.
“Whatever, Kenny. How's Stan?” I guess it is that kind of stuff that makes me think he has changed.
“He was crying and laughing at the same time. It creeped me out! But I think he will be better soon.”
“He will find another hippie, if he doesn't then he still has his jew.” I hum. “Are you still sick?”
“Just a little.”
"God damn it Kenny, I told you not to stay out so late!” I chuckle.
"You can’t tell me what to do, but I will be fine. Don’t worry."
“If I was there, I would just make you stay home for a while.”
“I’d like to see you try,” I purr, teasing and there's something delightful in his reply, between a scoff and a laugh.
"Kenny." The way he says it sends a shiver of satisfaction through me. “You flirty son of a bitch. What about you, are you dating someone new?”
“Not really. Got bored with the last one.”
“Weren’t you trying that polyamours crap?”
“Yes, I just. I don’t know. Maybe dating is not for me.”
“And what about sex?”
“I’m too tired to think about that.”
“What. Is it Kenny the one I’m talking to? Did you die and got replaced by an evil clone?”
“Shut up, Cartman. You are being a fucking asshole.” He snickers.
“No, you are an asshole, Kenny. Get some rest and we will talk tomorrow, ok?”
“Oh, ok.” I’m too tired anyway, so I fall asleep wondering what surprise is he talking about.
I wake up facing the window, the sun is shining and I feel better. I think about Cartman, and when I look at my cell phone, I see that he is calling. I pick up, but I can barely talk.
“Kenny! What the fuck?”
“Huh?”
“Are you still sick?”
“What. No. Better,” I mutter.
“You are late for school! Fucking run.” He hangs up. I look at the clock and shit! I’m half an hour late! I usually wouldn’t care, but I want to graduate this year, so I run as fast as I can, but when I’m getting to the classroom, I slide on a wet tile. I know my head is about to burst with a stair edge. I have died so many times, why is it still scary?
As I fall, my life goes through my eyes until I remember this morning call.
Wait.
How did Eric know I was late for school?
Something stops me right before the impact.
Prev ☆ Next
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Another snippet of fankid content bc I’m hyperfixated on it again
Wren bellyflops onto the couch. Jamie collapsed on it after. Owen lays on top of the couch. Lastly, Sylvie sits down on the couch gently.
“Augh. Today was ass.” Wren says. “Agreed.” Owen and Jamie say in unison. Sylvie just nods.
“But why?” Owen asks.
“Had to dogsit. This one mastiff jumped on me today and knocked me into the creek. Almost broke my leg. That and I also got a C in English because of a missing essay. I left it upstairs in my house so… yeah..” Wren explained, examining their right leg. “What about you?”
“Y’know how I have the new neighbors, right? The Raymond twins?” He asked.
“Oh how could we forget. You talk about them constantly.” Jamie smirked.
“Shut up.” His face flushed. “Anyway. I passed them and tried to say hi, then I tripped on my goddamn shoelace and rolled down the stairs.”
Sylvie winces. Jamie says, “Damn. Rule 5 of being attractive. Make sure your shoes are tied.”
“..and what do you know about that?” Owen laughs. “You’ve like the same person for god knows how long and you STILL don’t have the balls to ask her out.”
Jamie shrugs. Wren is holding in a laugh. Sylvie is confused.
“All I can offer up today is how tired I am.” He says.
“I was left behind by you guys when we were walking here!” Sylvie groaned.
“Sorry…” Wren and Owen say. Jamie sits up. “I’m not.” He laughs. “It’s because we were walking to your house, stupid.” Wren countered. “Yeah.” Owen agreed.
“Well, you guys still left Sylvie behind. I’d never.” Jamie rolled his eyes. Sylvie glared at him, as if to disagree. “Yeah because your a lover boy”Wren started but Jamie slapped his hand over their mouth. Not that it stopped anything. What was said was said. Realization falls over Sylvie’s face.
A silence fell among the group.
“Are you serious..?” Sylvie asked, breaking the quiet pause. She sounded cautious at first, then repeated what she said with a harsher tone.
“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” She was practically yelling. When it came to Sylvie, she never actually raised her volume above the average speaking level, but the tone and expression were amplified.
“…Why are you upset?-“ Jamie consulted, looking confused.
“You decide to be our closest friend for years, drift off in middle school, and completely abandon us in high school. Then you start hanging out with us again and say you like me..? Just like that? Acting like nothing happened?!”
“This isn’t anything new! I’ve liked you since we met!-“
“WHY?- YOU LEFT US. YOU LEFT ME. SO WHAT IF YOU LIKED ME. I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU.” She was literally yelling this time.
“Oh yeah totally and then you all fucking replaced me-“
“…” She looked away from him.
“..I regret it all, okay? I’ve spent the last five months trying to rebuild my friendship with you guys. I’m an asshole. A prick. A loser. Whatever you want to call me. I’m trying to be sincere. I’m sorry.”
Sylvie looked at him, a complete pissed off expression. Then she did something he didn’t expect, hugging him and crying. Not a complete over the top sob session. Just a cry.
“…Sylv?”
“…” She let go of him. Wren grabbed Sylvie’s hand. “She and I need to talk one-on-one, alright? Owen, make sure James keeps his ass here.” They say.
————————————————————————
Fifteen minutes into their talk.
“Why is he coming back to us now?” Sylvie asked.
“Eh. Either he really missed us or he found out about the rumors of his other friends being creepy towards the freshman.”
“Wha-“
“Yeah. That’s probably a big part of it.” Wren stares at the ground. “I don’t know. You decide whether you forgive him for leaving us or not though.”
“Should I..?” Sylvie asks. Wren shrugs. “It’s up to you. If you need to give it time, sure.”
Sylvie stood up and the two walk back into the room. Owen is currently hanging off of Jamie’s arm. “He was talking my ear off…” Jamie whined.
“Tell me about it.” Wren laughed. “Anyway, the food’s here. Come on.” Owen smiled.
The four walk downstairs and eat. Not much conversation. “…Do you guys actually want me back?” Jamie asked.
“I mean.. yeah.” Wren said. “Obviously.” Owen agreed.
“…” Sylvie stared dead at him. “Not going to answer that.”
“That’s fair.” He sighed.
“But answer this for me: how the hell are we replacing you? It’s more of the other way around.” She asked, each word a hesitation.
“The scary ginger guy.”
Sylvie snorts. Owen almost choked on a chicken wing. Wren starts their loud and brass laughter.
“OCTOBER ZHAO?!- THAT GUY?-“ Wren continued. “REALLY?-“
“Wren became his friend. By association, we started hanging out with him too. He doesn’t like you much only because we’d vent to him about you. Our bad.” Owen dipped his head apologetically.
“..He’s really nice when you get to know him.” Sylvie said. “He thought you’d eventually come around, so there’s that.”
“—oh.” Jamie nods. “I see.”
“…Glad we for that resolved, I guess. Can we watch a movie or something now?” Owen asked.
————————————————————————
The four on the couch, exhausted but enjoying the time. The movie is one that’s not trash but not memorable. The front door clicks open.
“…Oh hey Appa. Hope you don’t mind that Wren, Owen, and Sylvia came over.” Jamie says, looking over at his dad standing in the doorway.
“I don’t mind. They’re nice kids.” His dad smiled. “It’s late.. don’t stay up past 12. Get some sleep, son. Make sure your friends get home safely though. I know full well that if anything happened to those three, it’s my ass on the line.” He waved and walked upstairs.
Jamie laughed. “He has a point. Adanna would absolutely sue.” Wren said. “Yeah, my mom would totally raise a lawsuit.” Owen sighed.
Light hum of Sylvie’s snore could be heard. Soft breaths as she leaned against Jamie. Owen decided to spare Jamie but Wren would not give the mercy.
“Awwww. I knew she’d fall back into your arms eventually~”
“Shut.” He said. Sylvie opens an eye. Jamie felt fear as Sylvie stared at him with a sleepy expression. She wrapped her arms around him.
“or I guess you’re in her arms??-“ Wren said.
“..shut up. I need this.” Sylvie said, then went quiet.
“Does this mean we’re okay now?” Jamie asked.
“I’ll think about it. Doesn’t mean I am over you though.” Sylvie said, then falling asleep.
Owen turned to face them. “Am I the only one actually watching this?-“
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
really gratuitous grace
12:38am: well, talk about gratuitous grace… I'm doing it again, half a week later - twelve r30s this time, I'm being "moderate" cause I'm not going for a new record dose, just another demi-god trip, where I will probably feel like god again, but a lonely god still rubbing up against His own Grain, the infinite cosmos of limitations based on this little personality I am most of the time, like those weaponized changeling virii that cut off their hand to morph into sentient goo that projects itself as an angry voice that wants, that controls, that demands.
well, well, well well well well well well, there's 5 wells in this instance going back to the well well there's an eleven angstrom shell of heaven between the living void and hell well, look what we have here i guess i'm really trying to re-live the glory days, and yet have high high hopes for making something new as well… dosed about 12:35 - the idea was, don't worry about it so damn much, how bout a spontaneous trip with good vibes, a gratuitous grace, at a point where no reasonable algorithm would dare think i would even consider doing this on this date, considering past behavior - or maybe the cleverest algo behind the clever one would
i'm thinking maybe i'll go watch something and see if i can get into the watching movie trip, and see how that works - integrate more, get casual and spiritual at the same time, some profane fusion - maybe keep it thc free, see how that is - see if it's maybe like a couple of great times where i was trying to follow a trippy m night shayama lambda delta movie on ketamine on creek street - lady in the water, lol, that will always be an A movie for me because of the enhancement, you kinda had to be there, you know? yk?
i think i might try watching that star wars series, andor… we'll see how that does me
1:18 pretty sure I'm starting to feel it. Can I try not to be so lazy in the swoon? Also there's the need to pee, strong. Midsection issues…
Scots evolution… in this disconnected watching of episode 1 of andor, strange vibe, not really following, but seems vaguely profound, in a different way than weed makes things seem profound, less vague in that case
I'm profanizing… Connecting to pasts though, magic on its own…
1:30 look at them, those forest people characters They're all so young. This feeling is getting familiar… Why is there such a need to pee? Lol.
The guy that did that thing
No cats to worry about as I wobble desperately...
so
1:55 i'm plugging things into other things, getting really complicated. fugal. comp crashed… seems to demand metaphors…. ok, we gotta work up a lather here… it's so strange that i find T in this place, and C, and where is my E? the best of all? can't mix though.
Carry over a gratuity… How are we solving the world's problems now? Is this like when we tried to Knext? Should I invite M? Should I start a religion? We can do what we want from this corner! We demand that we do it E style. It's silly, it's lovely, it's an old doiley, but what was old is young again! We could even have B back, and D too, I remember her, and the bonding of elements to women i loved [I can edit whenever I want, remember, I can interpolate, there's meta-cognition going on now, so I can pass through one state and into another, time-travel even, in the telepathetic field]
not being recorded, except experientially… what the mckenna boys could do with sound
i'm not very real, really? am i? is this some fucking captured not that important crumble?
like those ol dabbley immorality players of oldes… hmmm, trying to raise a second sequel over here….
it all gets streeeetched, including cancer drugs… gettin a little personal here…. oh, the songs and tones of deadly politics… Fuck. Wow. No,.
How can we make words have power again. Assign value. How do we make things valuable again, oh, i feel like i figured it out cause i'm not in a music video….
this case
that case
in any case
crossfire
as long as the series of tubes and weird hand flanges…
shubling…
let us just integrate everything and see what happens [prollly nothing good] it's too dense right now….
the voices are arguing with each other thank you for taking it seriously thank you for laughing, thank you thank you
the heat feels good
M, my friend, join us….
omg, 9-
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
THURSDAY, MARCH 31, 1994 Tom’s finishing up dinner. He made us pork chops and tater tots.
Had a great talk with Dad today.
That’s about all that’s happening.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 30, 1994 Oh, this is just lovely. Next door, there’s a car in their driveway as well as a van on their front lawn. There’s a ball game going on now that includes other kids who don’t live there. They’re all dressed up, so hopefully they’re going somewhere. Maybe Lenore had her 5th kid or it’s cuz Easter’s coming, but I’m sure it’ll be a zoo till it gets really hot.
Why me? There are tons of elderly couples on this street, so why couldn’t they live next to me what with these houses so close? Why did God have to put Mormons next to me? What’s he trying to tell me? It’ll be years before we move, so how many kids will be there then? 10?
Well, for now I have the radio really loud, cuz if they aren’t going, it’ll be crazy there all day. Also, if they’re going to have company for a while, they’ll keep their dog outside 24/7.
I’m going to go out back and see if I hear anything out there.
Later…
I think I’ve finally figured out why I haven’t gotten any letters from Bob. He probably never had it written down and with him and can’t remember it. I called Kim today who said he made remarks about possibly sending it to the wrong place. While she was on the line, I called and got the PO Box number. Tomorrow I’ll mail out a letter to him. I enclosed an address label which I stuck on the letter as well as the envelope and also my phone number. Hope to hell he gets it and I get a reply.
Kim says there’s still some snow and they’re due for more. Ha, ha!!! Tammy says it’s 40° there and they’re firing up the woodstove. Ha, ha!!! Today it’s 85° and I’ve had the EC on all day.
Luckily, they shut up next door as quickly as they started. I have a good feeling that the hotter it gets, the less I’ll hear of them. They really are quiet 98% of the time. It’s just the old memories of the NHA that the ruckus triggers. If I began with the NHA all the way on up to this place and did a chart of the noise percentage, it’d look like this: NHA - 100% noisy, Vista Ventana - 80% noisy, Crystal Creek - 60% noisy, here - 15% noisy. If it weren’t for this fan, though, I’d be woken up 7 out of 10 times. This fan’s great, although it’d be hopeless in the NHA. Even hopeless in the Vista Ventana cuz the whole building shakes. The kids shook the building in the NHA and in the Vista Ventana, the butch rocked the place. Andy’s thunderous footsteps too.
Kim says she’ll be sending a letter soon. Cool, Book of Letters #7 needs it. Of course, I love getting letters, anyway.
Tom will be home very soon and soon, I’ll be hitting the sack.
Gotta go set the VCR.
Later…
OK, I set it for Unsolved Mysteries, Law & Order, and Now. It looks like for once Law & Order could be a new one. Unsolved is a repeat as usual, but they sometimes have updates on old cases. Now will always be new.
I left Tom a note asking him to please tape a movie for me on my old shitty VCR in his bedroom. The nice thing about it is, though, that if you record something on it, it’ll play fine on the living room VCR. If you play it back on the other one, it looks and sounds like it’s under water.
God, it’s warm in here. I’ve had the EC blaring up high all day and it reads 82° in the living room. It’s cooler in my room, though. That’s where there’s a lower, longer awning outside one of my windows where the sun faces west.
Damn. I forgot to call the Civic Plaza for more information about seeing the Judds, or whichever one’s going to be there. Tomorrow I will, as this won’t be happening till April 9th and 10th. It’s not a Phil Donoghue talk show, I guess, but a women’s expo.
TUESDAY, MARCH 29, 1994 Not much happened yesterday. I fell asleep at 5 PM, therefore, I couldn’t see the look on Tom’s face when he walked into his room. I straightened it all up.
I forgot to mention that I tried to call Jessie in W. Springfield. Both numbers I tried were wrong. I called information and there’s no Jessie or JS in the whole Springfield area. She either moved or has a phone in someone else’s name now.
I tried to call Cassandra, my old therapist in Deerfield. I got her machine and I left a message as well as my number.
Tom and I went out for almost two hours. I got my meds and 3 journals for $20.75. Now I have a total of 65!
Tom and I are out back now. Boy, is it hot!
No mail from Bob. Maybe he doesn’t have my address written down with him in jail and he can’t remember it correctly.
Andy told me that Michael Jackson joke yesterday and it was pretty funny. What do Michael Jackson and J.C. Penny have in common?
They both have little boy’s pants half off.
Another one goes: What do you call a lesbian dinosaur?
A Lickolotopus.
MONDAY, MARCH 28, 1994 Yesterday was lots of fun and I broke another “bed record.” For the first time yesterday, Tom and I were able to have full-scale penetration. It felt really nice, even though I could never cum by that alone with no stimulation. It really makes me feel more of a woman and less different, although, we’d both be fine if I never could’ve done it. Oral sex is my favorite and it always will be.
He’ll be getting up any time now and Andy’s off today. We may get together.
That’s all that’s been going on. Tom and I also have great talks and enjoy spending time together. It’s so amazing how this just keeps on getting better and better.
I have to call for my meds refill and that’s about the only thing I absolutely need to do today.
I basically give up, as far as getting any mail from Bob. I guess he’s a closed chapter in my life. For now, it feels that way.
Later…
Tom’s up now and he’s making us Hamburger Helper now. He’s quickly going to run to the store to pick me up cigarettes.
Doesn’t feel like it’s going to be cool out today. Earlier when I went to put the garbage out back it wasn’t too bad. Maybe I can get some color today. Then again, I’ll probably wait till I can swim. It’s too boring sunning and just sitting out there without being able to swim.
I have to go check the Hamburger Helper now, so I’ll write more later.
Later…
The Hamburger Helper was so good. Tom’s in the shower now and I’ll probably do some typing.
SUNDAY, MARCH 27, 1994 For the first time in my life, I’m letting someone read a whole entire journal. Yup, I’m letting Tom read the story in #61 (lesbian romance). He’ll die laughing, I’m sure.
Andy tried telling me I oughta publish some of my writing. Maybe do a short story for Echo magazine which is a gay magazine. Nope. Don’t think so. See, when I sit back and read whatever I wrote, I like it and understand it. However, I’m afraid others will just laugh. They haven’t yet, but I guess I’m just paranoid.
I went to bed at 3:30 PM and while I slept, Tom read it. Well, I guess he did. He said he was going to, but I can’t ask him now cuz he’s asleep.
If they’ve played their music across the street, I never heard anything. It’s been quiet since they played outdoors in the garage behind their house last Sun. That was probably a birthday party.
Evie and David sent an Easter card to “Jody” and Tom. How sweet, although no one ever spells my name right. Either way it’s spelled, I hate the fucking name, so who cares?
Andy left a message to call him cuz he has a great Michael Jackson joke. When I did try to call it was too late.
Got a postcard from my dad today which I copied into #57. Still nothing from Bob or Kim.
The weather was pretty shitty yesterday with rain. It was damp and yucky, but it cleared off. By Monday it’ll be back to the 80s.
SATURDAY, MARCH 26, 1994 So, what’s been going on here in Arizona? Oh, not much. In April I may meet Naomi Judd. She’s to be at the Civic Plaza with Phil Donoghue and some other actress whose name I can’t remember. It’ll probably be a long line, but I guess you get to talk to her briefly and get a picture taken with her and an autograph. I may check it out if she’s not here while I’m in Disneyland.
Still no mail from Bob or anyone else.
I spoke to Tammy who tried calling last night. It figures I’d miss her call. They’re expecting 2” of snow. Ha, Ha!
THURSDAY, MARCH 24, 1994 I just left a message on Andy’s machine. He called me last night at 1 AM, but I had the ringer off figuring no one was going to call so late. When the hell are they going to stop fucking up his schedule and put him on 2nd shift?
Anyway, I’m going to go now to watch more of the shows I taped, so bye for now.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 23, 1994 I’m still up and Tom’s in the shower now getting ready for work.
I just finished helping him with the bills. He writes out the checks, then copies the check number and the check amount onto a piece of paper. I put the bill and check in their envelopes, then stamp it, and stick his address label on it.
What else is going on right now? Oh, not much. Just bumming around till I fall asleep. I’m going to soon have coffee and have a cigarette. Just what I need, huh? When it comes to trying to quit smoking, I never fail to fail. I quit trying to quit. Whatever will be will be and I’ll be a smoker forever, regardless of wanting to or not.
Later…
Got up at 5:00 today. When Tom came home I surprised him with a spaghetti dinner. He loved it. I even surprised myself. For someone who can’t cook, it sure came out yummy. See, I am sort of old-fashioned and there is a little tradition in me, as modern as I am.
I still haven’t gotten any letters from Bob. If I don’t in a month, then I give up. To hell with ever hoping my parents will ever write me, either. It seems they only write once a year.
I taped my shows, but Unsolved Mysteries wasn’t on due to some special, and Law & Order was a repeat.
TUESDAY, MARCH 22, 1994 I typed a letter to my parents, and still no letter from Bob. Kim got hers, so is there that one in a million chance that someone’s working there that doesn’t like me and has intercepted his mail to me? I doubt it. I mean, Bob would write to me, and he even told Kim he sent a second letter to me right after they had their visit. Maybe he wrote it right after their last bi-weekly mail run. Tom says that’s how it is in the military. Someone will get mail only every other week, but when they do, they get 4 or 5 letters. I hope this is the case.
I typed Kim a letter and played some card games. What do I want to do now? I have no idea. I would like to write more, but I’ve run out of things to write about. Guess I’ll have to think of another writing project for times like this, huh?
Later…
Had enough TV for a while, so I think I’ll go listen to music. After, I’ll try conking out. Before I do, though, let me just say that I’m so proud of myself. I made the best chicken wings ever. This time I not only put margarine on it but also garlic salt. It made the meat part cook better and more tender. Also, the skin was nice and crispy.
Well, till later or tomorrow!
Later…
I think it’ll be a while before I conk out.
Been meaning to mention the weirdest, yet pretty cool thing. I swear I hear birds chirping during the middle of the night. It’s the strangest thing. I’ll have to ask Tom about it, as I wonder what kinds of birds could be doing this and why. They certainly don’t do this in Massachusetts or Connecticut, unless there’s sunlight.
I just upped and threw on the EC to bring fresh air in. I love how it brings in the smell of the orange blossoms. They don’t really smell of orange, though, otherwise I’d hate it, cuz I hate both the smell and the taste of orange. Now it’s great in here after only a few seconds. It freshens the air quicker and better than opening up the place on a very windy day. It also filters out pollen. I’ve been tight lately and this really helps cuz if I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was outside in the fresh air right now.
I just heard Tom cough. I wonder if he’s up. He’ll probably stay in bed till 6:00 or 7:00 anyway.
It’s getting chilly in here so I’ll shut off the EC soon. My breathing’s much better now.
So, am I going to get a letter from Bob today, or what? I sure hope so.
I hope Fran decides to try calling me back when I’m awake and not busy. Maybe I’ll hear about Bob’s picture. He’s getting a very nice picture of a Mexican girl. When Andy was here, he brought the picture to send to him. Someone left it behind at Denny’s. Just to keep track, here are my “notes” on her. I wouldn’t want to get her confused with Sabrina. Andy named her Connie Wells. She’s 28, lives alone across the street from me, is a secretary at a lawyer’s office, has no kids, is from Texas, has 3 sisters and 2 brothers, and moved here when she was 18. If I mentioned anything else in my letter about her to Fran, then I forgot. I just said that I told Connie all about him and she liked what she heard. With my luck, he’ll say he wants to write to her and really mean it this time. As stupid as he is, he’ll never buy it if I give a million reasons why she needs to get her mail here. I could try saying, if it comes up, that she just got involved with someone very very jealous of her even having a long-distance pen pal, but I doubt it’ll work. Maybe I oughta bring it up before he does in my next letter to him. This way it’ll sound less of a cover-up excuse if he asks for an address.
Damn, in 7 hours I’ve written 14 pages! I’ve been in my writing mood, so I remembered the little stuff to write about for now.
The lettuce is growing, but the carrots are taking their sweet time.
Later…
Tom and I went to Petsmart earlier. I got more pellets and the same plastic ball I had when I had the two mice. So far, he doesn’t like it like the mice did. He just sits there. I guess it’s a little too small for him.
I also got two journals.
When Tom went to the grocery store while I was asleep, he got some sticks of different colored clay. I’ll have to come up with some clever idea for them.
I also got a birthday card for Dad.
Fran left a message and I called him back. He wants to move out here. What else is new? I told him about Connie and he never did mention Bob’s picture.
MONDAY, MARCH 21, 1994 I awoke at 4:00 once again. Late last night, till 7:00 this morning, I sort of felt lousy. Due to the rain, which I’m not as used to anymore since that’s a rare occasion here, I felt shitty. I was very very tight.
Last night, though, I went to print out address labels for my parents and Kim, but the printer fouled up on me. Therefore, I handwrote 12 envelopes with 12 different labels they haven’t seen yet. I do believe I mentioned this, come to think and remember it.
Fran called today before I woke up. Tom answered his call, then he left a message. I tried calling him twice but he was busy, so he’s going to have to call me. Also, if he gets me, he does. If he doesn’t, he doesn’t.
At about 5:00 this afternoon Tom and I went to JB’s for dinner. It was good.
Just as we were leaving, they were playing, or so I thought, across the street. Very loud. It was still going on at 7:30 when we got in, so I called. His mother answered and the weird thing was that where she was was quiet. I guess the house behind her was playing in their garage, as there was a party. That was cool, and she sounded nice. When I hung up I put my music on and turned it off at 8:45 and it was quiet. That was easy enough to deal with.
So afterward, I watched TV, typed letters, played my computer card game, and ate more. I tried to do some scanning, but I couldn’t get it to work to save my life.
I hope I get Bob’s letter today. Kim called yesterday and she had just gotten a letter from him. We both never got that first one he wrote us both a few weeks ago. Guess we never will get it. Kim said he wrote and sent me a letter the same day he sent hers.
Later…
Between April 17th and 22nd, we’ll be going to Disneyland for 1-2 nights. However, somewhere in July or August, we’ve decided that Vegas would be a great place to be married.
It’s weird, yet fine with me, that I don’t look as white as these pages. Why? Who knows. I haven’t exactly been out in the sun these days.
I also forgot to mention something else for about a week now. According to the DES book, yes we possess higher chances of fertility and miscarriages, but they also made it sound like it’s very far from impossible. Still don’t know if I’ll want to try in ‘96, but we’ll see, as it’s still quite a while from now. Also, Tom and I are less convinced that my ear has anything to do with the DES and surer that I do ovulate. The book, along with the doctor, mentioned thinner, runnier discharges mid-cycle. Well, I most certainly have that.
I’ve got a few things I want to mend and hem on my new sewing machine. Let’s see, what do I want to do? A pair of panties, my white shorts, and I know there’s more. Oh yes, the pockets of my cut-off jeans.
Later…
Fell asleep at 5:30 this morning. Got up at noon, then fell back asleep an hour later till 5:00.
When Tom got home he tried to scan my journals and even he’s having trouble with it, so something’s wrong.
I may have mentioned a while back that they’re eliminating Tom’s job at AMEX, so he put in for another job at another department. If he gets it, he’ll work 8-hour shifts for 5 days a week.
Anyway, our trip to Disneyland may have to be pushed ahead or back a little, but we are going.
Tomorrow at 10:00 he has an appointment with the mortgage company about that $65,000 loan.
I’m recording the Oscar Awards now, but for the most part, it’ll be boring.
SUNDAY, MARCH 20, 1994 Earlier Tom and I were talking about possible dates to be married. I said that in a way I wish it were now 1995, then we could go for April 9th, the day we met. So, eventually, he came up with an idea. He asked me, “When was the first time we went in the middle?”
I thought at first he meant when he got in there, finally. Well, he meant orally, as sex is sex, and sex comes in all ways and forms of variety. I looked back and he “got it in there” on January 12th, but the oral part was either July 28th, 29th or 30th. I think it was the 30th.
What type of wedding we’ll have and where is still a mystery. We both agree on one thing, though. Neither of us wants a huge wedding. Andy said he’s definitely going to be there, which is great. He went on and on about how great Tom and I are together and jokingly asked to be the bridesmaid and dress up as either Stevie or Madonna.
I finally got my last order of address labels and I really like them a lot. I already filled out the order form for labels for Tammy and Bill for their anniversary, even though that’s not until May 25th. I’m ordering them cat labels. I should’ve gotten those, rather than the gold-trimmed ones for myself. Anyway, I went ahead and ordered a set of these cat labels for myself. In August for my parent’s anniversary, I’ll order them a set of who knows what style and design.
My dad’s birthday is only about 15 days away. What shall I send him? Just a card as usual? How old is he going to be? I think he’ll be 63.
Tom’s mom gave me a bag of magazines. He was at his parent’s house while I was asleep. They really were of no use to me, but it was nice of her. There were two animal posters that I put up on the bulletin board. Also, two subscription forms I used for Nervous and Scott. There was a poster of a tarantula and that’ll go to Nervous.
The neatest thing she gave Tom to give to me were pastel chalk-like things. I did a fairly decent picture of a table with a bowl of fruit and a vase of flowers. Behind the table is a chair. Behind the table and chair is a big huge window with curtains. Outside the window, I drew mountains and the sky.
Later…
I just tried to print out address labels for Kim and my parents, but I fucked up somehow. So, I addressed them by hand which I also don’t mind doing. I used all different colors. There are about 12 address labels that Kim and my parents haven’t seen yet, so I gave them each one. Their next 12 letters will have different address labels.
I watched part of a movie I taped last night. So far, so good. Now I think I’ll listen to music for a while.
SATURDAY, MARCH 19, 1994 Boy, was I tired. I slept nearly 11 hours and didn’t get up until 4 PM today.
Last night was fun. Andy came over and did his laundry at 7:30. Tom didn’t get in till 9:00 and I was worried. He worked overtime. We were all laughing and joking and telling old and funny stories.
Still no letter from Bob. This makes me feel like someone’s intercepting his mail.
Tom’s working on the back room right now, and I’m kind of bored.
THURSDAY, MARCH 17, 1994 I just called Gina who remembered my voice and name after a couple of months. I asked if she could play One for One. I don’t know who does it, but I know Linda did it in the early 70s. I love the guitar in this guy’s version.
So anyway, here’s the news about Bob. Kim called me to tell me she saw Bob. He’s been transferred yet a third time. From Franklin County to Walpole, and now to MCI Concord in the Boston area. Who knows what MCI stands for? Must be Massachusetts Corrections Institute or something.
As she saw, and to no surprise, Bob looks terrible. Who wouldn’t in jail? He does have an appeal going through, but if it works, it’ll take quite some time. Hey, what else is new? But he said that even his lawyer swore up and down that he’d get off. He can’t get calls, but he can make them as long as they’re collect. He can also write and get letters. If I write to him, they don’t read the letter, but they do open the envelope, naturally, to be sure nothing’s in the envelope that’s not supposed to be. Kim said she sent us both letters a couple of weeks ago, but it’s going to take time. They only pick up mail from there every other week. Hopefully, I’ll get his letter within a few days, but he’ll get my letters faster than I’ll get his. Kim said that he’ll still get the letter I just sent to Walpole. Also, in his letter, there’ll be more information as well as his booking number.
If there’s any news that’s good that eases our fears, it’s that his one cellmate’s his age. Also, there’s been no abuse from the guards or any other inmate. True to what Tom said, he’s bored with tons of free time.
Is Gina going to fucking play my request, or what? She’s done this before and so far she’s played 3 other requests and they didn’t seem to come before mine. Fuck her then, if she doesn’t play it. I’ll request it from another DJ if I have to.
I’m going to go watch TV now and soon hit the sack.
Later…
Well, Gina did play my request, but I sure did not expect to hear me singing first. No wonder she asked me to sing a little of it. I thought it a little strange that she wouldn’t know the song, therefore, I had to sing some of it.
Tom got home a little while ago. Now he’s eating.
They’re playing now across the street and I can very barely hear it! I’m leaving him a thank you note tomorrow.
Later…
I just finished typing up the last letter of the day. Got a few letters going out. To my parents, Kim, Fran and Andy’s nasty customer.
Tom and I talked more about getting married. We’re still not sure of a month, date, or where. We discussed the pros and cons of getting married here, as well as in Vegas.
I’m surer that I want to marry Tom more than he’s sure I’m sure. I think he’s just jumping the gun, though, worrying about too many what-ifs, even though that’s perfectly understandable. I went through all my what-ifs too. Like, what if we get divorced like almost everyone else does? But, life’s about taking chances. His basic concern is that he’s positive about two things that he swears will happen and how I’ll feel about them and deal with them. He swears I’ll fall in love with a woman and it’ll be mutual. He’s not so much afraid I’ll leave him, but will it make me wish I weren’t married to him? I said I’d tell them it’s too late and that I’m taken. He says these words may be hard to stick by, but this can happen to him as well as anyone else. If this happens I’ll deal with it as best I can. Yes, I know I swore I’d never have a relationship or move here, but no woman’s going to love me. Not one I’d love back. As gay as I always have been and always will be, this isn’t meant to be. If it were in my cards to be with a woman, then I would’ve been. The relationship was, after all, meant to be, but not with a woman. Otherwise, Tom would be a woman. Anyway, it’s human nature to be attracted to multiple people, although Tom’s 100% sure I’m going to fall in love. Tom said this happened to him with his first wife and he had to go through the “Hey, I’m already committed” stage. I guess it was the type of love where he didn’t want to leave his wife, nor did he want to sleep with this other woman. I guess it’s just Murphy’s Law.
The other thing he swears will happen is that I’ll no longer get SS checks eventually and will make the same, if not more than he does, and that’s all wonderful with him, but what he fears is me wanting to venture back out on my own with the dough.
I’d only leave him if he turned out to be a no-good jerk. However, if I made not a penny or a million bucks, what’s that got to do with us? That won’t change my love for him. I want to share any victories I have or money I make with him. Not alone. I just want us to do our best, take one day at a time and hope it is forever.
Now, what the hell was that? I just heard some knocking sound, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from. Oh well, I’m going to go and watch TV.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 16, 1994 Wow! Have I been having a fan-fucking-tastic day or what?! I may be interrupted by a call from Andy, but for now, I’ll get as far as I can. First of all, when I got up today at 11:00, I finished something I began last night. On 20 pieces of computer paper, I’ve done different abstract designs with the watercolor paints. Yup, it’s getting easier and I’m getting used to it little by little. I did do a cactus and a palm tree, but I mainly did designs like rainbows and similar stuff like that. Where did I put it when I finished? In the boarded-up window in the living room. Before the garage was built, you could look out at the window to W. Weldon. It looks so good there along with my collector’s plates.
Andy was going to come over here and do his laundry, but instead, he fell asleep with a headache, so maybe Friday. They’re remodeling the laundry room where he lives.
Tom sprayed out the room that’s part of the garage where the dryer is and gave me a spare key.
Got yet another set of address labels today and two more to go. They all should be here by Saturday.
The city came, free of charge, to paint the block wall that someone painted on. I haven’t seen it yet, though.
I have yet to get to the great news and the funny news, but I will soon.
Later…
Well, Andy’s been on the phone now for a while, so I’ll just wait till I hear from him. He wants me to read him the weird letter he wanted me to type to a very snotty customer.
I called and talked to Dad today. He sounded great and Ma was out playing bingo.
I also called Tammy who was really pissed and is having more problems with Lisa’s ex-friend Stacey. I guess Stacey beat up Lisa at school or tried to. Lisa’s afraid and has to be escorted to classes. Bill called telling the principal that he’d better guarantee her safety…or else! Tammy said she wishes she could get her hands on this 11-year-old and that she wished I could call her. I did and said what she told me to say - that Stacey better keep her hands to herself or else she won’t have any hands or mouth. I told Tammy, too, that if trouble persists, she can give me their address and I’ll send catalogs and whatever to them in NPN envelopes. I can also send them weird letters and when they see the Phoenix postmark, they’ll be thoroughly confused trying to figure out who hates them all the way from Phoenix.
It hit 87º here and that wonderful news is still yet to come!
Later…
Andy’s got company, I just remembered, so I read him the letter on his VM.
Tom should be home soon, but first I think he’s stopping off for some groceries.
OK, here’s my good news. Just as I was finishing up painting, I had the doors open, when there was a big boom for the second time. Luckily it wasn’t nearly as loud this time around. Then, fire trucks and cruisers went heading down towards that same alley from Claredon St. People came out to see what was up. Same with the heavy metalling teen across the street and 3 of his buddies. He asked if I knew anything, then we got to talking. Once we hit the music subject, I told him my honest feelings about it. He then said they practice every Thursday and gave me his number, saying that if it ever got too loud to call.
Great! And he did sound sincere enough, although I will still just wait and see.
I also had a nice chat with Lenore next door. Yup, they’re Mormons. She’s going to drop kid #5 anytime now, and they home-teach their kids. That explains why they’re always home. These people must have bucks to support so many kids, and how they all fit into a 3-bedroom house, beats me. She says she hates the heat here and plans to spend the whole summer in Idaho where she’s from. Dean will fly to her every so often. I asked her if she ever heard my music and she said no and asked if I could hear their piano. Nope, but even if I did, that wouldn’t bother me.
How do they fit a piano in such a small house?
TUESDAY, MARCH 15, 1994 Oh no, here I go again thinking of a kid. Where are these goddamn urges coming from? Especially when I know damn good and well it’d be the worst thing for me. For several reasons. Oh well, all I can do is fight it and ignore it. A baby isn’t in my cards. Not even if I weren’t sterile.
I didn’t get up today till 11:15, so I’ll probably be up till 3:00 or 4:00 just vegging.
Later…
There was a catfight outside a little while ago, but in the meantime, Tom and I had the best talk ever about us getting married and having a kid. Now I feel like I can easily deal with daily thoughts to have one, even though they’re not daily. They’re about 5-10 days out of the month. We’re going to discuss a date tomorrow, but we’re both so sure. I never thought I could want it to be forever and have that person want that, too. I never think about or worry if it’ll end in a year, or 5 or 10. All I know is one day at a time and how I feel right now. We’re also both trying to keep an open mind to any possibilities such as having a kid or whatever. We won’t say I won’t and we won’t say I will have a kid, but 1996 is the year we’ll think about it seriously. We’re not against those who have kids before, during or after marriage, but whether I do or don’t, 1996 is a good year to decide, although I still have mixed emotions about it and probably always will. Plus, there’s still a 90-something percent chance that I may be sterile.
Well, it’s off to bed now.
Later…
Got up at 11:00 today, then Tom and I went to the library. We didn’t look for the article, cuz the more we thought about it, the more we figure they won’t have it. Greenfield’s not a huge enough paper.
We did get a DES book. I only scanned through it quickly, but it looks like DES-related cancers aren’t as bad as I thought. However, sterility is most certain. If not, a miscarriage is. In a way, even though I’m sure a kid’s not in my cards, this is a bummer, cuz it’s taking away my options and freedom of choice for 1996.
After the library, he got a haircut which looks very nice. I went into Ross’s clothing store while he was getting his hair cut. For a total of $23, I got a melon-colored denim vest and a short sleeve sundress. At the hair salon, I got a bottle of that detangler.
From there Tom and I went to a buffet. The food would’ve been good if it weren’t cold. After eating we came home.
Later…
Tom called the mortgage company and he set up an appointment for Tuesday.
Right now he’s watching a video of Wendy’s vacation back in New Jersey and New York.
I took Piggy out back for a while and we sat in the swing. Now I think I’ll go sit out back for a while.
MONDAY, MARCH 14, 1994 I was just talking with Andy and we were discussing ways to keep out of trouble, yet still have some fun.
We just left Ellie a message whom we’ll want to see some night. Also, I wouldn’t be too surprised if Rosemarie was still there and I’d like to leave a note on her car. I wonder if Mark and Robert are still there, but this I highly doubt. I’m sure Scott moved a long time ago, too. People who make so many enemies so fast tend to move a lot.
I just had an idea. A good one, too. It’s been about the summer of ‘92 since I’ve copied conversations from tapes in here in script form. I can take Tom’s microcassette recorder, record some stuff, then put it in here. This thing can also rewind and fast forward while the play button is down. The old little portable cassette player I used to use for this is in the computer room and it’d be a pain to bring it in here.
Later…
Before I do some script form convos, and before Tom comes home, let me update the day’s events. Actually, it begins shortly after I last wrote.
I must’ve had massive gas, cuz my stomach was throbbing. It was pretty weird and a bit scary too. It all began when I sat down to watch TV. First I could feel it, then I looked down and my lower right side of my stomach was literally throbbing and pulsing. I was very nauseous too, and at one point almost certain I was going to puke, but luckily I didn’t have to. Is it something I ate? My meds? PMS? Tension cuz of the assholes across the street? Plus, I know it isn’t going to let up for another two months. Once these people start, they don’t stop. Next Thursday - Sunday afternoon they’ll be up to the usual shit.
Am I going to drop to my knees again and beg God to stop it? Nah, he isn’t done letting me listen to other people’s noise. Every weekend, I’ll just have to feel like and be reminded of apartment living. It’s almost like something up there’s taunting me with it. The more I want peace and quiet the more noise it throws at me. Not a peep, though, from next door. There’s no way they could’ve been home last weekend. No way at all.
Kim called with Bob’s address. Guess it is Cedar Junction prison in Walpole, bordering Boston. She’s going to try to see him at the end of the week. Tomorrow I’ll be sending off a letter and she’ll be doing the same. I sure hope he gets it.
Andy had a weird encounter with a customer at work, but I’ll write about it after I have a cigarette.
Later…
OK, so about Andy’s customer. He overheard a man and a woman talking. The woman said, “So, how was your visit with Jodi?”
The man said, “This is the second time and this time we talked a lot more. She really opened up and seemed so much happier.”
Andy said he had no gray hair. Also, we only saw each other once, but it sure was weird. He said he almost asked the man if his name was Larry.
SUNDAY, MARCH 13, 1994 Last night I fell asleep at 1:30 and awoke with upper stomach pains at 5:00. I’ve never really had upper stomach pains before and Tom said it could’ve been heartburn. I don’t know, but at least I’m better now. I fell back asleep at around 7:00 and got up just after 11:00.
Yesterday I began to be aware of my period on its way, so I’ll be dealing with that really soon.
Later Tom and I will be going grocery shopping. I’m not really looking forward to that, and today it’ll be mobbed.
It’s nice out today, but very breezy. I like that, though.
Even though I have an Abba CD on now, it’s quiet outside. I don’t think they’re home next door.
Last night I made Tom a tape of Sting and Meat Loaf with the new tapes. One of them, anyway.
Later…
I’ve got some very good news. Andy’s going to be starting 2nd shift real soon! He’s going to be calling back real soon. He’s packing now, as he’s going to Vegas for two days, the lucky fem.
Earlier Tom went grocery shopping and he got some watercolors. They’re a far cry different than a pencil or a marker, but I’m practicing. I touched up a so-so Gloria drawing and made it pretty nice. Nicer than I’d expected. I also typed letters to my parents and Kim.
That’s all for now.
SATURDAY, MARCH 12, 1994 Well, I’m still up, despite the fact that I don’t think I will be for too much longer. I turned down the idea of typing letters. I’ve got lots to tell everyone, too.
Come to think of it, I’ve gotten no calls from Fran or messages left by him.
Deep down, for curiosity’s sake, I wonder what is really going on in Nervous’s life. Is he still with Crystal? If so, how’s it going? I wonder who else he knows and what else he’s doing. That is, aside from working at the leather shop. I’ll never really ever know, now will I?
More so, I wonder how Bob’s coping with being in prison. Thank God he didn’t get in trouble while I was there. I sure needed him when Kim wasn’t around.
Tuesday we’re going to the library to look for Bob’s article in the Greenfield newspaper and perhaps pick up a book on DES.
Later…
I got up a couple of hours ago and I watched last Wednesday night’s show I forgot I had to finish.
It’s beautiful out now and so far it’s been very shockingly quiet. I don’t even know if they’re home next door.
Tom’s working now on the back room and I’m bored.
Later…
Tom and I finally planted our carrots and lettuce. In the back of this book, I wrote up a chart. This way we have the dates of when we plant things and what’s in each row.
It looks as if it might storm out there.
Next door’s been quiet, and if they’re doing their shit across the street, I don’t know about it. I have the radio on in my room and the living room, which also has speakers in the back room.
Oh, how could I forget! I’m 99 pounds and I don’t think I’ve been there for a few months.
Also, when I woke up I thought I was pre-cramping, but it was really gas. My tits don’t hurt, my stomach doesn’t hurt, and lastly, I’m not too bloated. I wish it could be like this every month.
Later…
Tom’s now watching the end of a movie I already saw on HBO. When he’s done, we’re going to fool around.
Yuck! I think I now feel some pre-cramps.
It rained a little out, so the garden oughta love that.
Later…
Tom and I just did a lot of work on the back room and it looks so much better.
I just cranked the music up as I’m sure that any time now they’re going to blast off. I’m not in the mood to be reminded of apartment living.
Got a message from Tammy. Going to go copy it in now.
FRIDAY, MARCH 11, 1994 I know it’s been a few days since I last wrote. Well, I’m sorry to have to say this but this journal’s going to be ending on a sour note. I do have some good news, and the bad news is nothing compared to my bad days back East, but it’s still bad enough. I have a few major subjects, then some little stuff to write. I’ll save the better stuff for last.
Did I, or did I not say my luck would run out with the assholes across the street? Well, it did. They played last night for nearly an hour and a half. I had been in a great mood too, and my mood was totally shot to hell. Tom says it’s too soon to worry, but I know it’s the same old cycle. They’ll do this 1-3 times a week now for months. Like 5-6 months before they back off for another 2 months if they ever do again. I refuse to deal with it all over again. I must think and act fast. Andy’s got to know someone who can do something. I can’t and I won’t deal with this shit all over again. Now the tension’s on once again. Only several months of peace can cure that, but I won’t get that peace unless I take serious action.
Now, I have one more, not-too-cool piece of news. Well, as for the cigarettes, well, we’re together till death do us part. I’ll just have to go young, but there’s no way I can ever get off them. Tom still says I will quit, and he’s been right about everything, so far, but I don’t see it.
Speaking of seeing things - I’m pretty good at picking winning horses. I’ll have to continue trying to develop it.
Cigarette break now.
Later…
OK, now on with the better news, among news in general. The kitchen’s more than half done. We tore down the paneling and Tom’s now repainting it off-white. Boy, does it look a lot better! Brighter and so much more cheerful.
I miscounted the days till my next period, thinking I was due on the 13th. I’m due on the 16th, but the great news is that I still feel no signs of it. I’m bloated, but my boobs aren’t sore and I have no pre-cramping.
Tom introduced me to another super neat thing on the computer. This thing that’ll either repeat back what you type or that’ll have a conversation with you. I taped one of our talks on a microcassette recorder of Tom’s. The bummer of it is, is that it doesn’t say what I type. Only its response.
Tom got out some of his musical instruments as he was rearranging the back room. A trombone, a trumpet, and a flute. I played a little trumpet for the first time in my life. You kind of have to spit into it to sound off the notes. It was hard, but I managed to sound off a few notes. The flute was easier and miraculously I was able to remember where certain notes are after so many years for one who didn’t play for long. Also, now that I have good pitch, I could tell what the notes were that I randomly keyed and played.
Last night, Tom and I sang some songs of Linda’s. He played the chords on the keyboard while I sang.
He also got a programming language thing that will save so much time on the business so we don’t have to stall in another 3 months.
Later…
There’s not much more to do with the kitchen and soon we’re going to work on the back room. Tom’s making himself something to eat, then we’re going to work on it.
Later…
Tom’s now hosing off a low/wide table that was here when he moved in. He’s going to put some of his books and equipment on it till we build wall shelves in the cubby hole at the far end of the back room. I’m going to be using a taller bookshelf that’s also of solid wood. The little wooden bookcase will replace the plastic ones my CDs and CD player are now on. I hate the plastic ones cuz they sag.
I called Kim last night and asked her if she’d found any information on Bob and where he is. Sure enough, just as I told Kim, Minnie never sent Kim the article about Bob in the Greenfield paper. Kim says she has the weekend off and will then try to find stuff out. Tom says it’s a matter of public record, which is true. Kim can find out at the courthouse where he is. Also, we may be able to see the article from our library here. That’d be nice. I’ll let Kim know of all this the next time I write her, but she probably will figure it out on her own.
Well, now I’m going to go see what Tom’s up to and if I’m needed.
Later…
Tom and I sure got lots and lots of work done in the back room. We’re on break now. He’s watching basketball and I’m lying on my bed.
We ordered dinner from My Mother’s. He got a pizza and I ordered a prime rib dinner, but it will probably be a while before it gets here.
Right now I want to change my sheets before it gets much later.
Later…
Boy, that was yummy! Plus, they screwed up in our favor. His pizza and my prime rib totaled about $19, but they charged us only $11. I’m so full now and I’m trying to burp it up as best I can. Perfect timing, though, cuz at 9 PM I need to take my meds.
After I finish this journal and begin the next one, I’ll probably listen to music.
Later…
OK, well, here I am on the last page! I just went back and put the color changer through all the pages I did today. Counting this page I’ve done 16 pages. Now it’s time for the one with all the cool stamps from all over the world. Journal #60! I really thought it’d be the year 2000 and something when I’d hit journal #60. Especially when I first began in 1987. I hate #50 just 4 months ago.
Later…
Tom’s going to bed in a few minutes and I am too, in a little while.
Tomorrow it’ll be another 80º day and Sunday it’ll be somewhere in the neighborhood of 85º.
Earlier I saw Marlee Matlin in Hear No Evil. I missed the first half-hour, but what I did see was good. It was also the first time I saw her topless.
Just when I thought my hair might quit growing for a while, it’s even longer. Just about touching the crack of my ass.
No concerts from across the street, thank God, but I still won’t hold my breath. Tomorrow and Sunday will be next door’s turn, although I’m not shocked I didn’t hear more of them last weekend.
I’ve got lots of new pens that won’t be drying up anytime soon, so I’m going to do each day a different color.
I asked Tom when he thought Bob would be able to write letters. He said maybe in a couple of weeks. I sure hope so.
TUESDAY, MARCH 8, 1994 Cool! I’m only 5 days away from my period and feel no signs of it. No pre-cramping, no sore tits, but I am a little bloated. Aren’t I always? Actually, though, I’m not as bloated as I normally am only 5 days away.
I wish it were almost time for me to go to the ACS class. I’m really looking forward to it and I want it to work sooo badly.
I think I’ll go watch the 2½-hour shows I taped.
Later…
I’m watching Geraldo now and next is Charlie’s Angels.
Tom’s leaving soon to go get paint for the kitchen. He’s also getting a sander.
Everyone has their hang-ups. I just hate to watch TV with someone else. I like to watch TV alone. That’s when I want my space like when I listen to music. But Tom won’t let me watch TV alone. He could be in the computer room, then only intend to come into the kitchen, but instead, he stops and watches whatever I have on. If I want to keep him in the living room forever, all I’d have to do is keep the TV on. Well, I did want him to see how I could do all of program 2 on one of my workout videos. So, I put it in the VCR and did it knowing he’d sit right there through the entire thing.
He said he hates talk shows. Well, he loves them now, cuz that’s what he’s watching.
Later…
Tom came back an hour ago with all kinds of things to do the kitchen with. He even got new kitchen faucets.
He’s about to make us bacon and eggs, then we’re going to go plant the lettuce and carrot seeds.
I wish it were time for me to go to my class now.
Still no mail from Kim today. I don’t know what’s taking her so long to send the article and find more info. I’ll send her a letter soon.
I got another collector’s plate under the name of Ann W. Had to be from Andy or Fran. It’s black Labradors and it’s nice. Now I have a total of 6.
Later…
Well, in 2 hours and 15 minutes, we’ll be leaving for the class. I hope for the best.
In the meantime, we dug up patches of dirt, shook the dirt out, and took the grass out of the area where we’ll be planting seeds.
I really miss Andy. I hope to hell he gets a night job somewhere soon. Second shift would be perfect for him and I know he’d want that much more than third.
He’s now on the phone talking to his friend Eileen. Me? I’m just bored as hell till I leave. Think I’ll go make myself some coffee now.
MONDAY, MARCH 7, 1994 I meant to write yesterday, and yes, I do have lots to update on. Today’s surely different from those hot days we’ve been having. It’s raining and thundering. I like the change, though, whereas back east, that’s all it ever does and you pray for a day without rain, let alone cold and snow.
This weekend was fairly quiet. No music and no steady hour-after-hour ball bouncing, although I did hear it a little. When I went to put my mail out, I saw their ball laying in their driveway. Part of me wanted to take it and ditch it somewhere, but I didn’t want to be seen. Plus, I’m sure they’d just turn around and get a new ball. Still, it’d be nice if some kid came by and took it.
I hope it rains this weekend and then I’ll have had enough of it for a while. I do look forward to the monsoon season, though. It’s awesome. Also, as it gets hotter and hotter, fewer people will be out.
Tom’s working now, but tomorrow he’s on vacation till next Monday. We expect to be very busy, but I’ll tell you what we do as we do whatever we do. Last Saturday we finally began to take down that ugly old paneling. Soon we’ll paint the whole kitchen an off-white.
I can’t remember all the things we did Saturday, but things have been OK. All except for the fact that my camera’s broken. I was so bummed out, too, as I took some really cool pictures.
Yesterday I skated for nearly 3 hours and I loved it. I skated around the pool and on the patio. It was so much fun and I felt very relaxed and confident. I really am an OK skater. I certainly wouldn’t dare do a triple axle with no coach, but I can spin and jump enough to have fun with it. Tom and I want to get rollerblades so we can go on the streets. This way I can do more and I can go fast. The two pairs of skates I have aren’t good for the streets. One little pebble can send me flying all the way to the Grand Canyon.
Well, Tom and I talked about my little consultation tomorrow and I canceled it. I hate going to the doctor and if I ever have surgery again, it’ll be to hear out of two ears or if it’s something necessary to save my life. Tom really thinks it would depress me and he’s probably right cuz then we’d never know for sure what’s in store for the future, even though we think we already have a pretty good idea. I never thought I could or would have a great relationship and be able to handle it, so who knows? I even mentioned it to my mom and even she said it was a big deal and gave me the impression that I should forget about it.
I feel like I’m forgetting something, but if I remember it, I’ll write it in.
No mail from Kim today, so I wonder what the delay is.
I hosed down the pig’s cage yesterday. It sure was nice just to take it a few feet outside the back door, rather than 4 flights up and down or in the bathtub.
The sun’s out now.
SATURDAY, MARCH 5, 1994 For the third night in a row, I got up at 1:00. The next couple of days I’d better sleep later. Tuesday I have a very long and very busy day. Tom will probably be up by 8:00 and then we’ll begin working on the kitchen. It’ll be a major task, but hopefully fun.
Well, I must first go and get myself a bite to eat as I am hungry.
Later…
I definitely have to cut down on being in the sun for a while. Yesterday I noticed small traces of the beginnings of sun poisoning on my stomach. How am I ever going to get a serious tan without getting sun poisoning? If I were to spend another day or two outside I’d definitely have it over my whole body, and it itches like hell.
Since I ran out of my shampoo I’ve been using Tom’s Head & Shoulders, and yuck! It reeks like shit. When he lays with me in bed, he leaves that stench behind on my pillow. Masculinity stinks, as much as I love this guy. He’s the only guy I’ve ever met, though, that doesn’t have BO. Thank God for that much.
I’ll have to ask him if he heard the heavy metallers playing last night since I was asleep. I’ve got the radio all set to go today as I’m sure they’ll be out front playing ball all fucking day today.
Today, we’re going to take down that old-fashioned, ugly, disgusting wall paneling. Tom’s going to fix part of the ceiling, too, and soon enough we’ll repaint the kitchen. The counter, sink and cabinets will be redone one of these days, too.
Later…
I’m bored now. I wish I were just waking up. There’s nothing I can really do till Tom gets up. I also have to really push myself to stay up as long as I can. The birds just woke up. I hear them chirping away now.
Andy left a message laughing over the same thing I was laughing about on his machine. It’s sooo gorgeous here, while they have 3’ of snow back east!
Well, I’m off to go brush my teeth now and put on a little makeup.
Wonderful. Here goes that beast next door.
Later…
It must’ve been someone else’s dog I heard, cuz after I last wrote, I didn’t hear anything.
Tom got up around 7:00 and we went grocery shopping. There, I got 3 pens. Pink, purple and blue.
After we got home, we started pulling off the paneling. While he went to get my meds, I yanked the nails out of the wall behind the pieces we already got out. He’s doing the ceiling repair now. I’ve got the fan on exhaust blowing out dust and crap like that as well as a Fleetwood Mac CD, so when the kids next door go out to do their thing, it should muffle it.
I hope I get mail today.
It’s going to be another hot one out there and I’m not going to hang out much today. If the pool was warmer, that’d be different, but without going out and opening the doors, I got my fresh air. The bedroom and bathroom don’t get much fresh air, so I can’t wait till the EC is set up. This way I can air it out daily for a little while, at least, till the EC is on all the time.
Later…
Tom’s taking a break and eating hot dogs I just made for him. Soon, he’s going to a friend’s house to fix their computer.
FRIDAY, MARCH 4, 1994 Got a letter from Alex yesterday. He’s back in Deadfield at the same address. Then, why’d he move to Illinois? Must’ve taken a long vacation there. Maybe today I’ll get another letter from Kim. Maybe this time it’ll have more information. Like an address and that article. Alex typed the letter he sent this time around, which was great. I had asked him to type if he could and if he had a typewriter cuz his handwriting is incredibly sloppy. Most deaf people type well cuz they’ve plenty of practice due to using the TTY system so much.
Later…
I really hate that when I’m very much in the mood to write but have nothing to say. I need a fun everyday project to keep me busy. I’m getting bored with just the stuff I already do. I’m just not in the mood to type letters right now. Besides, I’m going to wait till my new order of envelopes arrives. They’ll get here in a day or two. I’m not in the mood to veg in front of the TV now. Plus, nothing’s on. I don’t feel like editing, but I am hungry. I’ll go zap another piece of pizza.
Later I’ll work out and hang out outside as it’ll be 83º.
Later…
Today’s just as gorgeous as I said it’d be. I got even more color. The only thing not too peaceful was the dog next door. At least it didn’t keep going and going, though. The kids next door are out front. Why do they always go to the front? I’ve only heard them out back once or twice. This is good for when I’m out back, but when I’m in the house I’m at the front of the house most of the time.
I just checked and they’re gone now, thankfully. I think they got company. Some blue truck is now parked in front. This weekend, I’m sure I’ll have to listen to them play ball. The guy (Dean) just left in their red van. I just thank God the dog doesn’t go on and on like when they first got here. That our place isn’t attached to theirs. That the music people across the street have shut up and that the dog across the street is gone. I pray to God constantly not to let my luck run out. This is my time now for peace and quiet after so many years of being so affected by other people’s noise. I live in a house now. It’s my right just as well as anyone else’s right.
I just checked again. Those kids apparently were only out a second.
The scars from the NHA, Vista Ventana and Crystal Creek will be with me for years to come, if not always. At least it’s getting better. The longer I see this place fairly quiet most of the time, the more my tensions and memories will fade.
No one’s ever going to wake me up again. And if they do, I’ll be sure to give them a wake-up call in the middle of the night. I can promise this for sure.
I hope the mailman brings me a letter from Kim today. That is because my parents won’t write until next year, Fran and Bob never will, and Alex will write again in May or June.
Boy, do I ever need something to eat now. I think I’ll heat up the last piece of pizza. Tom got a few things from the store early this morning before work.
We’ve got huge plans for tomorrow, but I’ll get into that later.
Later…
I’m going to do a little bit of writing, so as to keep myself awake a little longer.
About an hour ago - boy did I have a big scare. I was watching TV when all of a sudden – boom! I asked myself…was that a gun? A firecracker? It even popped the mailbox open. I called 911, then eventually I looked out front. I saw nothing and the dispatcher said a transformer could’ve blown.
After we hung up, people outside were talking about it and two guys driving by in a car asked me if I knew anything. Then a female cop that looked like a lesbian came to the door. She was a better-looking version of Linda the cab driver back in Springfield. She wasn’t the ugliest, but no one I’d ever sleep with. She was nice, though. She at first asked if I knew any drug dealers around cuz maybe a drug lab blew up, but it turns out that someone blew up the dumpster in the alley behind the houses across the street. Boy, if we lived over there, or they blew up ours in our alley while I was out back there, I’d most certainly be deaf.
No mail for today.
Tomorrow we’re going to start working on the kitchen, but I’ll put off writing about that one till tomorrow.
THURSDAY, MARCH 3, 1994 I got up at 1 AM and Andy left a message saying he wants his messages taped. He got the same message I got. US West says that this Sunday from midnight - 9 AM, the VM will be shut down so we can’t get our messages and no one can leave us messages, either. I wonder what the hell they are doing this time? They better not fuck up the system, though, or bump off the stutter dial tone that tells us we have messages.
Now, I’m going to go and continue watching my shows. I’m so fucking hungry too, but there’s hardly any food.
Later…
Well, I managed to scrounge up a hamburger and I had a bowl of cereal. Later I’ll make pork chops.
I taped Andy’s messages, called in my refills and scheduled an appointment for a consultation on a hysterectomy.
Boy, do I feel mixed emotions. When I hung up I felt a sense of depression and fear, but I know I’m doing the right thing. The thought of being held up in the hospital is scary, though, and I don’t want to burden Tom. I hope those scary stories of depression aren’t true, but everyone’s different. It won’t hurt to at least get information. I think it’ll be a worthy investment for the years to come. I can’t keep dealing with PMS and periods. Well, I could, but I sure don’t want to. Also, I can be able to go from 100% sure I can’t and won’t have kids to 200% sure. I hope it’ll curb my sexual appetite, too.
Later…
I almost chickened out several times and called to cancel my appointment, so I’m just trying not to think about it for now.
I am absolutely looking forward to checking out those quit-smoking sessions next week. I can’t wait.
I’m also looking forward to hanging in the sun out back in about an hour. It’s boring, though.
Tom warned me that I should stop blasting my music, but that’s the only way I really enjoy it and can get into it. Turning it down seems as impossible as my growing another foot taller. He says my hearing sucks. Nah, I don’t think so. It’s just so-so, but yes, it does suck when there’s background noise, like in a restaurant.
Oh! I’ve been meaning to write this in but I keep forgetting. God answered another prayer for me. For a couple of months now, the dog across the street has been gone. Yeah! I love it! It’s so much quieter and more peaceful when I’m in the living room with no TV or music on and especially when I’ve got the door open. The dog next door is so much quieter, the kids aren’t out very often, gone is the dog across the street and gone is the heavy metal band! Thank you, God! You did hear my prayers, after all. Now, please help me quit smoking for good.
I’m out back by the side of the pool now and yes, it’s going to be a warm one. It already feels warm and it’s still early. Where’s the cloudiness they predicted, though? I like it when it’s cloudy so the sun doesn’t kill my eyes.
Later…
Well, I did get some color and this is the warmest day so far this year that I remember of. If I stayed out much longer I’d definitely fry. Tom’s right. I have to do it little by little.
Damn! I just noticed my $300 check here that Tom forgot. He was to cash it at lunch.
So, anyway, I have the door open and the fans on to circulate the air. It’s sooooooooo beautiful. And Tammy’s freezing with 3’ of snow. Ha, ha, ha!!
What other little tidbits of news can I tell? Let’s see… I showered and did my hair. I need more shampoo. My legs are a little hairy, but I don’t feel like solving that problem now.
I watched parts of some talk shows and Charlie’s Angels.
The sink’s clogged up once again.
I hope the mailman isn’t too long in coming and that I get a letter from Kim with more information. Getting one from Bob is just wishful thinking and dreaming, I suppose.
Just took an Ibuprofen for a slight headache. Luckily that stuff is cheap and doesn’t cause any side effects to have to deal with.
I worked out a little and I should do more.
I’m 10 days away from my next period, so now is when I’m going to start to bloat out.
I haven’t done any wall art lately, but I will sooner or later. All the things I do have their phases. I have to think of new ideas and add more variety to the flowers. Being just your average artist, though, that’s not always such an easy thing.
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 2, 1994 Tom’s in the shower now and soon he’ll be gone for work.
Yesterday was a beautiful day and I laid out and got some color.
When I got up at 10:00 last night I watched the Grammy Awards I taped. Gloria won for her album Mi Tierra and she looked good. Her hair’s growing back, but when I saw her on Larry King she looked great. I loved how she had her hair straighter and it made her look younger, too.
When I woke up my stomach was fine, thankfully. It sure is weird though, how I get that for a few days every now and then.
I typed up 5 letters, too. To my parents, Tammy and the girls.
Almost an hour ago, Tom and I went to Circle K. We got something to eat and drink and I got cigarettes.
Speaking of cigarettes, well, it’s hard to keep a positive outlook when you’ve tried several methods of quitting and they all failed. However, I’m going to call the American Cancer Society and see what they say.
I’m also going to call my doctor’s office to see if there’s any way I can get a hysterectomy. I want to at least get information. I know it’s not elective surgery, as Tom said, but I’ve seen several news documents on women who had it done when they never needed it. Doctors will do anything to make a buck. I know this firsthand. I know some women have claimed to have horrible side effects, and Tom’s sister does too, but every woman’s different. I just don’t think it’s fair for me to have periods when I’ll never have a kid, even if I weren’t sterile.
It’s going to be another gorgeous day, so, I can’t wait to go out.
Later…
I have excellent news. First of all, it looks like I can probably get a hysterectomy done and paid for. I called my doctor’s office and they said I could either go there or to my GYN (guess that would be Dr. Kolnick) for a consultation. I guess the state would cover it cuz it’s considered sterilization. I’ll talk to Tom and perhaps we can check it out. Maybe after April, cuz this is when he thinks we can go to Disneyland.
Now here’s the best news of the day. I called the American Cancer Society and every other month they have 4 quit-smoking classes free of charge! They begin at 6:30 and run for 1-1½ hours. The next 4 classes are on the 8th, 10th, 15th and 17th and I’m really looking forward to giving it a shot.
Hey, it’s noon Eastern time now, so I want to go try calling that girl Minnie. Hope she and everyone else is thrilled at the fact that they’re in for yet another killer snowstorm! Hee hee!
Later…
It sure is beautiful out and I did lay out some, but it’s just so boring. Especially with not being able to swim. The only thing I miss about apartments is that their pools and Jacuzzis are heated year-round. I did get a little more color, so I won’t bitch about that.
I tried calling Minnie, but there was no answer. I’ll go try again.
Just got another letter from Kim. There was no article in it and this letter also sounds as if she had yet to find out about Bob.
I finally got in touch with Minnie, but she didn’t tell me anything I don’t already know. She couldn’t give me his address.
Later…
I just watched this talk show all about teenage girls in gangs. How sad, sick and disgusting.
I set the VCR to record A Current Affair, Unsolved Mysteries, Law & Order and Now. I really paid close attention as I was programming it, so if it doesn’t come out, I won’t be to blame.
Andy’s off tomorrow, so we’ll probably gab on the phone with one another at some point.
I’m pretty bushed now, so I’m going to hit the sack.
TUESDAY, MARCH 1, 1994 Tom’s address labels did come yesterday and he really likes them.
I got up at 8 PM and he’d been home for an hour. He made us Hamburger Helper. Then he watched Star Trek and I took a bath. Then he licked my pussy and we did laundry. At 11 PM he went to bed.
I idiotically taped the wrong fucking channel. I went to record a movie on channel 12 but got fucking Murphy Brown and some other bullshit on channel 10 instead.
I took some graph paper Tom gave me and made two envelopes. One to Kim and one to Fran. I colored in the squares. I typed Kim a letter and tomorrow I’ll probably get a letter from her.
I updated my checkbook. This month I’ll be getting $446 with SSI and SS combined. I got Tom’s $300 check ready. Also, I wrote a check for $10.79 for my monthly sewing machine payment, $34 for 100 stamped envelopes, and $22.80 for 3 new styles of labels. They’re very hard to describe, so when I do get them, I’ll stick them in here. Or the next book, more likely. Cuz they won’t arrive till the middle of this month and by then I very well oughta be in journal #60!
Now I need some coffee.
Later…
I just spent the last hour or so making up 5 more envelopes with really cool patterns. I did one for my parents, Tammy, Lisa, Becky and Sarah.
My stomach’s driving me absolutely nuts now.
Anyway, Tom got up at 8:00 and then he did the bills. He wrote out the checks and I stuck them in their envelopes, stuck the stamps on and his address labels.
He made us some bacon and he had French toast.
Well, I’ve figured out in my mind the 4 different fonts I’ll use for Tammy and the girls. I’ll use Bodacious for Tammy, Harquil for Lisa, postscript for Becky, and Rounders for Sarah.
0 notes
Text
The Mysterious Case of Jaskier's Immortality
Word count: 3601
*
“So nice to see you again, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, putting on one of his many fake smiles.
“Jaskier,” she replies with a smile that almost looks genuine but Jaskier is pretty sure that it’s not. Which she confirms a few seconds later by saying: “Shouldn’t you be dead already?”
“I see you’re as kind as always, my dear. But don’t you worry, Geralt is doing a very good job when it comes to protecting me.”
“Hm,” Geralt sighs resignedly, clearly regretting his decision to spend the night in an inn instead of the middle of a forest.
To be fair, it was Jaskier who suggested it, claiming that he refused to be eaten by angry drowners, no matter how many times Geralt tried to explain to him that the probability of finding a drowner in the middle of a very dry forest is extremely low.
If Jaskier knew they were going to run into Yennefer in the inn, he would have risked the drowners.
“I don’t doubt that,” Yennefer smirks. “But seriously, how old are you, bard?”
“No idea. I stopped counting after fifty, I think.”
“You know, you don’t look fifty,” she says.
“Oh, well, my mother had an elf lover before I was born, so there’s a fifty-fifty chance that I’m not gonna age anytime soon. Sorry,” Jaskier smiles again, sweetly – and this time, it’s genuine.
“As if,” Geralt grunts.
“I’m sorry, dear?” Jaskier blinks.
“Come on, Jaskier, it doesn’t work like that. You’re a viscount, that means your father must have been a viscount, too.”
“You don’t know much about nobility, do you, Geralt?” Yennefer snorts.
“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “Still, he’s not a half-elf.”
“Let me guess, you’re a Witcher, therefore you could smell it if I was? I hate to break it to you, dear heart, but you’re going to have your nose checked.”
“You’re not a half-elf, Jaskier,” Geralt repeats. “You’re not immortal, you just… look young.”
“Yeah, right, you got me,” Jaskier shrugs. “I just look good because I moisturize. Happier now?”
“Much,” Geralt nods. “See? You can be honest if you want.”
“Yup,” Jaskier nods. “Honesty personified. Now please excuse me, I need to go and moisturize some more. Internally. With ale.”
*
“I’m actually a mermaid, you know?” Jaskier grins the next time he’s asked, this time by a very confused and very old Valdo Marx.
“A siren, Jaskier. Not a mermaid,” Geralt sighs, praying to Melitele to give him strength. “And you’d know that, of course, if you actually were a siren.”
“Just so you know, the term siren is actually quite offensive to my people.”
“You mean idiots?” Geralt chuckles. “You’re not a siren, Jask.”
“Can you prove that I’m not?”
“Well, last week you tripped and fell into this creek that was like… knee-deep, and you nearly drowned.”
“I was in shock!” Jaskier proclaims dramatically. “But I have a proof that I am, or at least could be a siren.”
“What proof?”
“Well, my lovely voice, of course!”
“Not as lovely as you think it is,” Valdo Marx snorts.
“Come on, Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, ignoring the old troubadour. “You have much better voice that any siren I’ve ever heard.”
“Geralt of Rivia!” Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “Was that a compliment?!”
“Fuck,” Geralt mutters. “I didn’t mean…”
“Really though, Jaskier,” Valdo says. “How?”
“That’s a secret I’ll take to the grave, I’m afraid,” Jaskier grins. “Once I manage to reach it.”
“Keep on with the bullshit, Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “and you can reach it tonight.”
“Fifty years traveling with him, and he still thinks he can scare me. Cute, isn’t he?” Jaskier laughs. “Oh, Geralt you could never.”
“Try me.”
*
“All right, I’ll tell you my secret,” Jaskier winks at Ciri, who lifts an eyebrow. “I’ve got this neat… magic ring.”
“Hmmm,” Ciri observes. “Looks like a normal signet ring to me.”
“Well… Yeah, well, it looks like it, all right, but actually–”
“Jaskier, I was born a princess. This is clearly a Pankratz family signet ring.”
“Damn,” Jaskier groans. “Like father like daughter, eh?”
“Sorry,” Ciri shrugs.
*
“I got myself cursed.”
Triss Merigold lifts an eyebrow.
“Somebody cursed you to live forever, is that so?” she asks and her voice is almost dripping with disbelief.
“More like cursed me,” Geralt murmurs.
“Oh, shut up, Witcher, you know you couldn’t live without me,” Jaskier smiles brightly, and Geralt has to bite his cheek to stop himself from smiling back.
“Hm,” he says instead.
“Eloquent as ever,” Jaskier nods.
“Would you like me to...” Triss clears her throat. “You know, try to lift the curse?”
“No!” Geralt yells before he can stop himself.
“See?” Jaskier beams. “You could never live without me!”
*
“A bruxa,” Jaskier repeats to a young man who claims to be his son, but looks older than his supposed father.
“You’re not a bruxa, Jaskier!” Geralt whines.
“Excuse me, and how would you know?”
“Because I’m a fucking Witcher?!”
“Well, you’re clearly a fucking horrible Witcher if you haven’t noticed until now!”
“I think I’d notice if you tried to sneak out of the camp at nights to feed,” Geralt comments, crossing his hands. “You can’t even sneak out to take a piss, Jask.”
“Maybe I do that on purpose!”
“Besides, bruxae are mostly women.”
“Mostly being the important word here.”
“Fuck’s sake, Jaskier. You won’t even eat a piece of meat if it’s not so well-done that it’s almost cremated.”
“Do you know how disgusting the blood is, Geralt?!” Jaskier groans, and then immediately blinks when he realizes what he just said. “I meant…”
“Case closed,” Geralt nods, satisfied.
“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”
“Uhm, my lords, if I may,” the young man says.
“Hate to break it to you, kid, but if you’re aging like a normal human, you’re probably not my son,” Jaskier shrugs. “Sorry. I get it why your mum might be confused, though. It was quite a night, with at least four–”
“And that’s enough,” Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier by the collar and pulling him away from the man. “You know, lifting the curse seems like a good idea now.”
“There isn’t really a curse, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs.
Geralt sighs, his lips curling into a tiny smile that Jaskier cannot see.
“Thank fuck.”
*
“You see, we were in a crazy mage’s tower and I saw this bottle and I thought it was slivovitz, so I drank it, but it seems that it actually was some sort of an immortality potion,” Jaskier explains to a lady at the ball, whose grandmother he’d apparently fucked once, when said grandmother was still a young, unmarried woman.
Geralt only blinks, because it’s the first truly plausible explanation for Jaskier’s mysterious immortality.
“Oh, that must be so horrible to watch everyone you love die!” the woman nods enthusiastically. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me about it in private?”
“Of course, my dear…” Jaskier smiles. “Just… wait a second. How old is your mother?”
“Forty-seven, why?”
Jaskier’s lips are moving silently for a few seconds while he counts, and then thy turn into a wide grin.
“No reason, dear,” he says, offering her his arms. “Shall we?”
When Jaskier and the lady flee the ball, Geralt pulls out his flask of White Gull and pours its contents into his empty tankard.
So, a potion…
*
“There is no such thing as an immortality potion, Geralt,” Yennefer shakes her head.
“How can you be so sure?” Geralt asks. “Maybe this mage really did find a way to at least make the human life longer!”
“And why would he do that?” Yennefer scoffs. She has been doing that a lot since she finally ended their relationship for good about twenty years ago. (He later found out that she had left him for none other than Triss Merigold, but Yennefer still doesn’t know that he knows, and he’s having way too much fun with it to break the fact to her. So right now, he is pretending he doesn’t notice that Triss is eavesdropping on their conversation behind the door leading to Yennefer’s bedroom, and that he absolutely believed Yen when she claimed that the loud thud a few minutes ago was caused by a cat.) “We are immortal, Geralt, unless killed. There is no reason for any of us to make a potion that would make a human live forever.”
“Well, perhaps this mage fell in love with a human and wanted them to stay with him!”
Yennefer pauses, inspecting Geralt from head to toe and back again, and then she sighs.
“Oh, Geralt. Really?”
“Really what?” Geralt blinks, genuinely confused.
“Oh,” Yennefer murmurs. “Oh, no. Really?”
“Really what, Yen?”
“You mean you don’t… Oh, dear gods. Really?”
“Yen, I swear that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Geralt grunts, frowning.
Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries counting to ten to calm herself down. She doesn’t even get to three before Geralt’s eyes go wide.
“Oh,” he whispers. “Fuck.”
“Fuck, indeed, Geralt,” she nods solemnly. “Fuck, indeed.”
*
“I found a djinn, he granted me a wish,” Jaskier says when Geralt asks him, about five minutes after his meeting with Yennefer. (He agreed to use a portal to get to the bard as soon as possible. A fucking portal!) The bard is sitting in a tavern and eating his dinner, utterly undisturbed by the sudden appearance of an angrier-than-usual Witcher.
“You never mentioned a djinn,” Geralt growls. “And after your last encounter with one, I sincerely doubt you’d engage with another.”
“You clearly don’t know me at all–”
“Besides, Valdo Marx, as far as I know, had an apoplexy while fucking a young student on his desk, and I don’t think you’d ever let him die like that if you had a choice.”
“You see, that was kind of a my mistake, since I didn’t specify the time and the circumstances of his apoplexy in my wish, so…”
“What was your third wish?”
“Pardon me?”
“Your immortality, Valdo Marx dropping dead, that’s two. What was the third one? And don’t even try to mention the Countess de Stael, since you’d have to dig her up first.”
“That was disgusting, even for you, you know that, Geralt?”
“How are you immortal, Jaskier?!”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
Jaskier puts a piece of bread in his mouth and grins.
“Maybe some other time, Witcher.”
*
“I am a fae,” Jaskier replies a day later.
“You’re not a fucking fae, bard.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because you fucking lie, Jaskier. All the time.”
“Fuck. Didn’t think of that.”
*
“You see, there was this artifact–”
Geralt closes his eyes, turning Roach around.
“Let’s consult Yennefer about this.”
“Oh, mother of…” Jaskier whines. “All right, no artifact, there was no artifact! Geralt, I’m telling you, there was no…”
*
“You’re not a succubus.”
“But it would be a perfect explanation, wouldn’t it?”
“You’re not succubus, because if you were, you’d know that a male one is called an incubus.”
“Oh, you and your stupid Witcher terms again.”
“You’re not an incubus, Jaskier, because if you were, I could never let you near Eskel.”
“All right… Explain, please?”
Geralt grunts.
“I’d really rather not.”
*
“A dragon,” Jaskier grins victoriously.
“No,” Geralt says, shaking his head.
“No,” Jaskier agrees with a sigh.
“You know you could just tell me the truth and be done with it, right?”
“Hm… No.”
*
“All right, enough is enough,” Jaskier growls that night in their rented room, tossing his doublet aside. “You’ve asked me three times today, Geralt. Why the sudden interest in my immortality?”
“As you said, enough is enough. You’ve been traveling with me for what, a hundred years?”
“A hundred and four.”
“Yes, and you still look the same as the day I met you in Posada!” Geralt growls. “And it drives me mad!”
“It wasn’t driving you insane for at least fifty years, so why the sudden change of heart?”
“Fuck off, bard. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”
“But you do, Geralt,” Jaskier says, taking a step towards the Witcher. “Why?”
He’s standing in Geralt’s personal space, his chemise half undone, and he’s watching Geralt with those sincere blue eyes, and Geralt can’t fucking think…
“Because I love you, you idiot!” he snaps. “Because I fucking love you and I need to know if I can love you, or you’re gonna just drop dead one day without a warning!”
“Oh,” Jaskier whispers, his lips forming into a huge, happy smile. “Oh, fucking finally.”
“Fucking… what?” Geralt blinks, his arms suddenly full of an enthusiastic bard.
“I love you too, you silly Witcher,” Jaskier laughs. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years! Well, a hundred and four, but who’s counting?”
“You…” Geralt mutters.
“Silly, silly Witcher,” Jaskier repeats, pressing his lips against Geralt’s in a kiss that could be described as chaste, or at least the chastest Jaskier has ever been capable of. “We’re going to Lettenhove in the morning.”
“We are?”
“Oh, yes,” Jaskier whispers. “See, I’ve told you the truth about the source of my immortality once. But I think you need to see it to believe me.”
“Wait, you have? When?” Geralt asks. “Was it the artifact? Just tell me, I promise I won’t make you consult it with–”
“Shut up now,” Jaskier says, kissing Geralt again with way less chastity than before. “And in the meantime, believe me this – you can keep loving me, and I’m not planning on dropping dead anytime soon. Also, I’ve spent the last hundred years imagining fucking you senseless, so if you’re not opposed to the idea, perhaps we could, well…”
The kiss that this idea gets him is as far from chaste as one could possibly get.
And Jaskier definitely isn’t about to complain.
*
“You sure this is a good idea?” Geralt asks as they march towards the Lettenhove castle’s gates. He tugs at his doublet’s collar, way too tight for his liking. He’d much rather walk in there wearing his usual attire, but Jaskier insisted that Geralt must look presentable if he wants to meet his family.
It turns out that it only takes a single I love you to turn the bard into a manipulative bastard. Who would have guessed?
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Jaskier replies, grinning cheerfully. “And stop frowning, you’re gonna scare the servants, love.”
“How long it’s been since your last visit here, Jaskier?” Geralt says, his frown deepening. “Who rules Lettenhove now, hm? Aren’t you only going to be a distant relative, a great-great-uncle risen from the grave?”
“I sure hope not,” Jaskier chuckles, stopping in front of the guards by the gate. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Viscount Julian, here to see the Viscountess Madeleine.”
“How can you still be a viscount?” Geralt blinks when one of the guards promptly disappears inside.
“We kind of decided to, you know, share the title,” Jaskier shrugs. “Seemed fair. Besides, father, well, the former viscount, insisted that I inherit the title, but he never mentioned anything about Mads not inheriting it, so…”
“How could your father have known who the viscount is going to be in almost a hundred years?”
“He really didn’t,” Jaskier chuckles. “See, it will all start to make sense once you meet her.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping for.”
*
The guard returns a few minutes later, telling them that the Viscountess will meet them in the garden.
Geralt, knowing a thing or two about nobility, think it’s a little weird, but isn’t about to protest. He only thinks he could have left the fancy clothes at the tavern.
“Oh, shut up, you,” Jaskier chuckles when Geralt voices this thought. “You look gorgeous.”
“I know. You’ve mentioned it a few times. But I didn’t have to look like that, because we’re going to meet the ruler of this land in a fucking garden, and–”
“Julian!”
A woman in a long white dress throws herself at Jaskier, who happily catches her. Geralt’s first instinct is to reach for his sword, only to realize that he (luckily) left it in the tavern – because Jaskier insisted, of course.
“Madeleine,” Jaskier chuckles. “You haven’t aged a day.”
“Oh, yes. Shocking, isn’t it?” she laughs, pulling away from him, and for the first time, Geralt truly looks at her.
The woman is shorter than Jaskier, slim, and her dress is much, much simpler than Geralt would have expected considering the fact that is supposed to be a viscountess. She has dark, long hair and her face is so beautiful that it almost – but only almost – takes the focus off her pointed ears.
“Lady Madeleine,” Jaskier grins, “may I introduce Geralt of Rivia, my Witcher. Geralt, this is Lady Madeleine, the current ruler of Lettenhove and my younger sister.”
“You’re…” Geralt blinks.
“A half-elf, yes,” she nods. “Julian! You haven’t told him?”
“Hardly my fault. I really tried,” Jaskier shrugs. “But he just wouldn’t believe me.”
“So you brought him here to prove it to him, rather than to visit your beloved sister? You are a horrible, horrible sibling, Julian!”
“Your… sister,” Geralt mutters, all his thoughts speeding through his head, colliding and falling down, one over another.
“Yes, we definitely share a mother,” Jaskier confirms. “Most likely a father, too, and trust me, it wasn’t the old viscount. Madeleine got the elvish looks, I only got the non-aging bit. Well, apparently.”
“But…” Geralt blinks. “Your father. The title.”
“Yen was right, dear heart, you really don’t know shit about nobility,” Jaskier snorts. “But I admit that even though our dear departed noble father knew that Mads wasn’t his daughter, obviously, it never occurred to him that I might not be his true son.”
“But you don’t age!”
“In his defense, that only became clear after his unfortunate passing.”
“And you aren’t going to start to age anytime soon,” Geralt mutters. “You really aren’t.”
“Told you so, didn’t I?” Jaskier winks, letting go of his sister and wrapping his arms around his lover instead.
“I… I…” Geralt stammers. “Fuck.”
“Maybe later, love,” Jaskier smiles. “Madeleine, my dear, wouldn’t you say that my return calls for a feast?”
“Absolutely. In fact, I have started the preparations the second my spies informed me that you have crossed the border.”
“Oh, so we have spies now?”
“It’s really only a net of nosy old ladies, but it works wonders,” Madeleine laughs. “I must admit, though, that I was only planning a feast to celebrate you coming home, but now I see we have a much better reason to party. Tell me, brother, did you finally get your stupid Witcher?”
Jaskier smiles brightly, turning his head to Geralt.
“Yes. I finally got my stupid Witcher.”
“Party,” the Witcher in question growls. “Is that why you made me dress like a pompous prick?”
“No, that was because while I find your usual self extremely attractive, you still look much better when your hair is properly combed and you’re not covered in monster blood.”
“Hm,” Geralt hums, but wraps his arm around the bard to hold him close.
“Oh, yes, about monsters,” Madeleine says with the most innocent expression Geralt has seen since Ciri broke Vesemir’s favorite vase at Kaer Morhen. “You see, we have a tiny problem with a cockatrice…”
“Right,” Geralt nods. “I’ll go grab my armor from the tavern.”
“That won’t be necessary. I have already arranged for your things to be brought to the castle. And your horse,” she adds before Geralt can even open his mouth. “You can leave for your quest as soon as the servants get here.”
“So much for you not being covered in monster blood,” Jaskier sighs.
“Hm,” Geralt grins. “Lady Madeleine, I suppose you happen to have a bathtub somewhere in the castle?”
“Of course. In fact, there is a private bathroom right next to Julian’s bedroom.”
“Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier purrs. “You know me so well.”
“Yes, and I expect to get to know you even better. In another hundred years or so.”
Jaskier laughs, pulls Geralt closer to him and kisses him.
“Another thousand years, I’d say.”
*
“What… the… fuck?!” Geralt croaks, staring at the smouldering remains of the cockatrice that would have surely killed him if Jaskier… If Jaskier…
The bard looks at his hands, then at the cockatrice, and then back at his hands again.
“Geralt? I have a feeling that I’m not really… A half-elf.”
“No shit.”
“I think I might be… Uhm…”
“Oh, shit,” Geralt whispers.
“I suppose, uhm, you know…” Jaskier stammers, wiping his palms on his trousers like he could wipe away the feeling of literal flames shooting out of them mere moments ago.
“Yeah. We’re gonna have to consult this with Yen.”
“Splendid,” Jaskier sighs. “Can it at least wait after the feast?”
“After more than a hundred years of you not even knowing, I think one feast will be fine.”
“Thank the gods. Madeleine would kill me if I tried to leave now,” Jaskier chuckles. “Let’s go, then. We need to get the fried monster remains out of your hair.”
“You’re… I was fucking right! You’re not a half-elf!”
“Yeah, you’re a great Witcher,” Jaskier nods, grabbing Geralt’s arm and dragging him away from the monster. “Didn’t notice I was secretly a fucking mage, but otherwise a great Witcher.”
“Explains a lot, though.”
“Does it now?”
“Yeah. I always had a thing for mages, you know.”
“Oh, Geralt. You’re such a fucking idiot,” Jaskier chuckles.
“Made you laugh,” Geralt shrugs, smiling.
Jaskier shakes his head.
“I’m so, so gonna drown you in that bathtub.”
“My love,” Geralt grins, “you’re more than welcome to try.”
***
Tagging @lottelorelei - I’m sorry I always forget to reply to your lovely comments, but believe me, they always put a big smile on my face! :)
#the witcher#witcher fanfiction#my fics#geralt of rivia#jaskier#julian alfred pankratz#geraskier#geralt x jaskier#jaskier x geralt#idiots in love#immortal jaskier#non-human jaskier#they're stupid your honor#they share a single braincell#and yennefer has the custody of it#also madeleine hyland is jaskier's sister in this
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I posted 11,344 times in 2022
109 posts created (1%)
11,235 posts reblogged (99%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@emiliosandozsequence
@salamancussy
@gnarlystarships
@fast-things-change
@palominojacoby
I tagged 1,193 of my posts in 2022
#gpoy - 98 posts
#circa 2008 - 65 posts
#laugh rule - 57 posts
#it's like you know me - 54 posts
#i feel this on a spiritual level - 46 posts
#my childhood looked a lot like this - 43 posts
#when it was a game - 31 posts
#accurate thing is accurate - 28 posts
#my twenties looked a lot like this - 25 posts
#schizophrenia is a helluva drug - 24 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#sometimes as a little treat i even write out that i don't agree or whatever then i read it and am like yeah that's a great argument then i c
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
mermaid at shotgun creek
10 notes - Posted September 18, 2022
#4
RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPS.
@ohwhoopsok my beloved tagged me and jfc some of these WIPs have so much dust on themmmmm ))): Whoops, loved your titles, like something out of a manual my OCD and schizophrenia won’t let me read but please oh god tell me about 9. 10. and 14. Stealing your “In order of most recent edits!! (with ships in parentheses)” :D
This, Consider This (TG: R/Ja)
A/Je (TG: Andy/Jezza)
d/r (TG/SPN Richard/Dean, Wincest)
a tiny shiver (TG: R/Je)
O!Je (TG: Je/Ja/R)
FTC REWRITE (TG: OFC/all the ships)
THD (SPN: wincest)
Inherit The Flames (SPN: weecest)
What We Deserve (SPN: Wincest/JJ from Kaleo)
Run Honey Run (SPN RPF: J2)
Behind Closed Doors (SPN: wincest)
wincestiel (SPN)
Bear It Away (SPN: wincest)
Be The One (SPN: wincest)
MKU (SPN RPF: J2)
damned if i (SPN RPF: J2)
j2 robot!dream (SPN RPF)
...plus 22 pages of SPN ideas in a doc called Bunny Hutch and over 40 pages of notes and chapter(fic) ideas for TG called The Year Before, and I can’t remember how many for The Year After bc i’m trying not to get ahead of myself lol
tagging @sal-si-puedes @ymas00 @skyhighdisco @hellhoundsprey @soulless-puppy @alexa-alcantara @zmediaoutlet @oddsocksandstuff @zoycitem @drunkgerbil @ryugarika @outpastthemoat @dickbaggins @figureofdismay and anyone else that wants to do it consider yourself tagged <3333333
11 notes - Posted March 28, 2022
#3
14 notes - Posted January 30, 2022
#2
Get to know me meme
I was tagged by the brilliant luca-font @sal-si-puedes for fun!
Three ships: Wincest, Sastiel, CHM
Last song: idk the name of the song but it was by Roxette
First ever ship: Hammond/May
Last film: Oh man i can’t even remember when i last watched a movie >.< The Man Who Fell to Earth maybe ???
Currently reading: And on that bombshell..., Mystical City of God, and a Sturgeon short story collection
Currently watching: We’re quitting in the middle of Ozark, jfc is that show DULL and annoying
Currently craving: WARMTH; alternatively a nice deep cold hole in the middle of the forest.
tagging: @dreaminblue67 @lovelesscherub @skyhighdisco @sparrownatural @soulless-puppy @w8ing4godot
16 notes - Posted February 26, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
See the full post
16 notes - Posted March 11, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nature’s Nurturing Ways
Hi y’all! This pandemic has really taken the wind out of my sails these past few weeks (maybe months? Time is completely untraceable right now). This piece is born out of a lovely anon’s request, bolded below. As always, I haven’t proofread this mess, so please forgive the typos! I’ll do my best to correct them post-publishing. I seriously can’t thank you enough for taking the time to send me your ideas, and I promise I’ll get better at writing actual drabbles LOL. I hope you enjoy :)
Hii can you write something abt Geralt being w a plant-based reader where she loves animals and nature? Tysm
_____________________________________________________________
Geralt and Jaskier had been travelling for hours when the beating sun finally wore them down. There hadn’t been a breeze in days and the hot, stale air was starting to suffocate the uncharacteristically quiet bard, who wouldn’t dare compete with the surrounding cicada’s symphony.
“Geralt,” he rasped, “do you hear any running water? Drips or gurgles? I’ll take anything.”
“Jask, it hasn’t rained in days and it’s hotter than the depths of hell,” the Witcher sighed before continuing, “I said no yesterday, the answer is the same today.”
“Euughh!” Jaskier threw his head back in despair before hanging his head in exhaustion. “Geralt, I don’t want to be dramatic -,”
“Ha!” Geralt twisted in his saddle to look back at his friend with a quirked brow.
“- but I will fall off this horse and die of exposure if we don’t find water soon.”
Shaking his head, Geralt knew that despite the bard’s tendency to embellish, the situation was getting dire. They’d traveled this way dozens of times before and had always relied on the steady creek that ran alongside the trail for water. The region wasn’t known for dry spells and while Geralt was sure he could manage either way, his companion on the trail was not so durable.
They wouldn’t arrive at their destination for another three or four hours, at his level of dehydration and with probable heat exhaustion, Jaskier might not have that much time.
With another gruff sigh, Geralt pulled back on Roach’s reins and redirected her off the road and into the forest, turning back to ensure Jaskier’s horse would follow.
Geralt knew that there was a small clearing off the road where the thick leaves from the old trees made a lush, and shaded, canopy. He’d been there before a handful of times. It’s where he shared a tender first kiss, where he’d laid his head on Y/N’s chest before falling asleep feeling the cool, lush, grass cradling his large frame. It’s where he first said I love you.
Shaking his head slightly to pull himself from his memories, he dismounted and grabbed both sets of reins, leading the horses into farther the clearing. Once they’d reached the middle of the small field, Geralt released Roach’s lead and gave her a neck a scratch before leaving her to graze.
“Come on Jaskier,” he said, reaching into the gelding’s saddle bag for some food, “get off your horse and lay down in the grass.”
The bard fell out of his saddle with a thud while Geralt continue to root around the bag, huffing as he kept coming up empty.
“Did you eat the last of the cheese?”
“Mmpft,” Jaskier replied incoherently, face down in the grass.
“Hey –”
“Oi! You kicked me!”
“Where is the food? We had bread, cheese, and meat left over last night. Did you fucking eat it all?”
“No, you oaf,” he said, rolling over onto his back, “we ate the rest of it this morning.”
“Fuck!” Geralt cursed under his breath, pulling his hair up off his neck to cool off. He could barely remember what they’d done earlier that day. The heat had been unbearable all evening, and the rising sun only made it worse.
“Don’t worry about it Geralt! No need to apologize for accusing me so harshly.” Jaskier said, words dripping in sarcasm.
Geralt merely looked down at the bard with disdain and rolled his eyes, refusing to admit the sun might be affecting him too.
“Shut up and take off your shirt –”
“Oh-ho!” he laughed weakly, wiggling his eye brows at the witcher. No matter how beaten and battered the bard may be, he’d never miss an opportunity to tease Geralt.
“No, Gods! Fuck,” Geralt went on, flustered, “the grass will cool you down a hell of a lot faster if you’re in direct contact. And besides, Y/N will kill me if I let you die of exposure.”
“Always so serious, eh Geralt?” Jaskier chided playfully, pulling off his tunic before laying back down onto the grass, “Oh-ho-ho-ohhhh yes… Sweet merciful goddess of all that is good, this feels amazing! Yes, yes, yes!”
While he was sure the bard was still mumbling gratefully, and disgustingly, at the feeling of the cool grass against his skin, Geralt’s mind was elsewhere. Somewhere in this clearing, wild heliotropes had bloomed and the sweet, almondine scent was pulling him into a memory.
“Geralt! Witchers use herbs, mushrooms, and flowers in all kinds of magic,” you said, your hands resting high on your hips, “I find it incredibly hard to believe that in all your years and extensive travels, you’d never learned to forage?”
“All my years, eh?” he’d replied, cat-like eyes gleaming back at you.
“Well of course,” you teased, “I mean, unless you mean to tell me that silver head of hair is a choice born out of vanity?”
“I’m going to make you pay for that later, Y/N.” He laughed, taken aback and a little impressed that you felt so comfortable with his mutations as to mock him playfully.
“Ha! Me and what coin?” you reply with a light laugh, bending over to collect the generous mushrooms growing through the bed of leaves and needles.
Geralt turned his head towards you to hit you with a winning comeback, but found himself lost for words when his eyes failed to meet yours.
You get up slowly, peering over your shoulder to find your witcher’s eyes on your backside. Smirking to yourself and quirking a brow flirtatiously, you toss a handful of dirt and wet leaves his way, hitting the poor soul right in the chest.
“Distracted, Geralt?” you said, tossing your hair over your shoulder as you straightened up.
Geralt swallowed thickly, desperately trying to string together at least a couple words – witty at best, coherent at least – when he heard a twig snap in the surrounding forest.
Quick as a flash, he drew his sword and his attention towards the source of the disturbance, a large boar. Chest already swelling with pride at the thought of providing you with a hearty meal, Geralt prepared his attack on the creature before him.
Seeing that the “threat” in question was nothing but a passing porcine, you dove before him with a shout, dropping the mushrooms on the way. Your scream coupled with your sudden movement startled the beast, and it dove deeper into the brush to escape.
“Geralt, no!”
“Damn it, Y/N,” he swore, “I could’ve had it! We could have had a decent meal! We – we would have been set for days!”
“No, Geralt! We have food, right here in this clearing. We needn’t take lives from the forest to eat.”
“Gods, Y/N,” he sighed, dropping his sword to the ground in frustration, “do I need to remind you of the cycle of life? Creatures live, they die, and they get eaten so others can live –”
“Yes, and by leaving that gentle giant to its ruminations, we’ve allowed it to go on, to feed its young, or hell! By leaving that boar to live, we might have secured a lifeline for a fellow wolf or fox. Geralt look around you; mushrooms, flowers, these thick leaves, those berries? You see that tree there? At its roots there are nuts, and over there? Those flowers? Means there is garlic. The forest will feed us with ease if we simply care to drop our weapons, and look.”
Geralt looked at you and with soft eyes, he took in the way your eyes burned with passion, the way your chest rose and fell with every energized breath. He looked around you and really looked at the plants around him, beyond scanning for any toxic or dangerous herbs, he did his best to see the forest through your bright eyes.
Looking at you he felt his chest swell once more, but this time the feeling was warm, grounding.
“I love you, Y/N,” he said quietly, pulling you into his arms, “so, so much.”
You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You knew he loved you. You had known for months, but you’d made peace with the fact that he loved you however he could, and that that would have to be enough, even if it meant you wouldn’t hear him say it.
“Oh, my sweet, sweet dove,” you murmured, reaching up to lay a soft kiss on his forehead, “I love you too.”
Geralt was wrenched from his thoughts by a swift kick to his shin, courtesy of the bard.
“Shhht!! Geralt!” Jaskier shout-whispered, still kicking at the witcher’s shins. “A deer! A d- dinner! Food! Geralt!”
Side-stepping out of the bard’s frantic little kicks, Geralt looked around him in a quick movement, spotting the deer with his hand primed above his sword’s hilt.
The world seemed to go quiet and still when his eyes met the doe’s. Despite himself, he could hear your voice in his head telling him that she’s a young, vibrant member of this forest’s population. That at her age, she’s likely a first-time mom or about to be. That she has more life to live and more to give to the land than be a poor man’s meal.
Jaskier watched in hungry-horror as Geralt waved his large hand at the creature, turning his back to it before looking down to meet his shell-shocked gaze.
“What the fuck, Geralt!” he spat, “what happened to “Y/N would kill me if I let Jaskier die”? What the fuck! That was food! Survival!”
“You’ll be fine Jask, shut up and lay in your grass.”
“As long as you don’t make me eat it.” He grumbled, not quietly enough.
A laugh rumbled through him as he walked towards to forest line, spotting thick dandelion leaves, mushrooms, and bushes ripe with nuts. He might not necessarily need to feed Jaskier the grass beneath his feet, but he was going to make him eat his words.
***********************************************************************************
“There you are my intrepid explorers!” You damn near squealed at the sight of them, dropping your basket of recently-purchased produce as you ran towards them.
At the sight of you, Geralt dismounts and runs to meet you in a tight embrace. You hold each other tightly, breathing in each other’s scent; his cedar, damp earth, and cut grass, and yours sweet almond.
You pull back just enough to look him over quickly and, spotting no fresh injury or new scars, pull your brows together curiously.
“Did you get lost?”
“Not at all,” replied Jaskier, clapping Geralt on the shoulder, “You’d be impressed, madam Y/N! Our dear witcher made quite the feast. Pulled me right out of the greedy jaws of death, he did!”
“Oh?” You said, brows furrowed in a silent question. Knowing what you meant, Geralt shook his head and kissed your temple to reassure you.
“Picture me this, Y/N,” Jaskier mused as he untacked his gelding, “I’m wilting away, inches from Death’s grip, and Geralt sweeps me under a lush canopy of trees and lays me in the grass…”
“Lays him in the grass? Should I be jealous?” you whispered.
“Never my love,” he replied softly, his forehead against yours.
“… then our honorable friend bid the deer a fond farewell, letting him get away! Yes, Y/N, there I lay, starving, thinking the sun must have cooked the sense right out of him when he marches out of sight only to emerge moments later with a bounty!”
“A bounty?” you mock-gasp, egging the bard on to Geralt’s great displeasure.
“Yes! We ate like kings in that forest, Y/N. All we did was eat but I felt hydrated and renewed! Truly a culinary delight.”
“A delight, Geralt!” you giggled, giving his waist a squeeze.
“Gods, won’t he ever shut up?” he grumbled, ghost of a blush creeping up his collar.
“Oh hush, my love,” you cooed, “without Jask’s bragging, I’d have never known what a big softy you’ve become.”
Wordlessly, Geralt looked down at you in mock-contempt, unsure that this wasn’t a veiled insult. He was instantly reassured though, when his eyes met yours.
“You left the deer.”
“I did.”
“And you foraged, found just what you needed.” You spoke softly, admiration and love rounding your features out beautifully.
“That’s right.”
“Now where did you pick up skills like that, my dove?” You chanced another tease, twirling a lock of his white, dust-packed hair around a finger before giving it a light tug, your head cocked to the side.
“Oh, I had an exceptional teacher…” he said, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist and bringing his other hand up to cup your face, pulling into a deep kiss.
#geralt of rivia#the witcher#the witcher fanfiction#the witcher x reader#the witcher fandom#geralt of rivera#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt x reader#Jaskier#fanfiction#fanfiction requests#fanfic#geralt imagine#anon
315 notes
·
View notes
Text
what hits the spot every fucking time every god damn fucking time is making marinette a clingy sleeper
yes. yessssss. yyyyyyeesssssssssssssss. my dearest marinette you were made to cuddle any warm body near you and it is the only thing i care about
and then making chat just as clingy? i’m deceased i’m gonna pass out i’m gonna sit here and think a lot i’m literally in pain, oh my fuck— if there was a way to write exactly the feeling i get when i think of marinette and chat cuddling under thick blankets in the middle of winter, i think i would easily write like a billion oneshots about it back to back to back
sleep cuddling can be something so important to an izy, it’s literally like a calling card: if it’s about sleep and if it’s about marinette being a little spoon or smothering her bed partner with her legs/arms wrapped around them, don’t bother checking the author name bc it’s me. hi
LOOK OKAY I JUST THINK A LOT ABOUT THIS
like marinette falling asleep at her desk and oh Gee I Guess Her Familiar Has To Take Her To Bed and the witch is out of it okay. she’s just out. doesn’t even stir it’s fucking creepy but chat doesn’t even make sense of it he’s just more interested in not waking her up, he’s so gentle. every creek of the floorboards he’s cursing in his head. he goes through an exhorbitant amount of anxiety trying to tuck her into bed, helping her get out of those thick petticoats and definitely out of her stays without waking her up, only to casually slip in right behind her and without fail marinette will thwack right into him because he’s so fucking warm and marinette will shit and die without physical touch, obviously. okay. and chat is begging begging begging not to start purring because he can feel her eyelashes on his collarbone bc his pajama shirt kinda shifted open at the little tie neck part area so the top of his chest is kinda showing (what a whore) and her breath against him and uavgsshsjjdkfkfkfnfndkdfjjdddnjdjfnnfnf HMMMMNNNGMMMMNNNN frothing hold on i’m getting ahead of myself
AND HES SO KIND TO HER EVEN THOUGH HES SO MUCH BIGGER THAN HER AND— oh my god izy stop please go to bed— AND HE HAS HIS BIG DUMB STUPID GRIN AND HE REALLY HAS TO STOP PURRING PLEASE THANK YOU
if marinette doesn’t wake up ontop of this man i’ll DIE why can’t chat kiss her on the forehead and the brows and the eyelids hm? huh? why can’t he??? why can’t he keep her against the wall and away from the door/window, all to himself, because he doesn’t want her to be disturbed???? i just think about a big bed and it’s super cold and marinette is super warm and her feet are chilly but chat’s ankles are nice and warm and he always makes a silly noise when she has her feet on him and she loves it and i’m gonna go sleep now, i love body pillows makes me feel like i’m cuddling with chat as we speak
7 notes
·
View notes