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ahh-fxck · 4 years ago

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Chapter 7: Fire and Ice

Hello beautiful hearts! The next chapter of my main AU Warrior’s Blues is up! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :) And if you do, like and reblog so that others can read!

The Ao3 link is here!

@stressedspidergirlsfandomblog thank you so much! You have been so much more than a beta. Thank you for co-creating this little universe with me through our chats and all of your wonderful questions. You rock!!

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@astouract @smolpoe @ladyknight-keladry @yes-im-the-violin-girl

Warrior’s Blues

Chapter 7: Fire and Ice

Morning creeps into the room, slow lazy fingers of light brushing across the rumpled quilt, the clothing tangled on the floor, the soft blue, yellow, and white braided rug covering the wood floor. Daylight also reveals an antique desk underneath a window, piled high with unruly stacks of handwritten documents. There is a trashcan next to it which contains mainly crumpled paper, a few wads of which sit on the carpet forlornly nearby, having not made it in when they were unceremoniously tossed. Towards the back of the messy, quiet room is a large closet whose doors are currently closed. This is probably for the best, as there are visible lumps of fabric peeking along the very bottoms of the white folding closet doors.

In the bed, two figures sleep, their naked bodies entwined. At some time during the night Jaskier had moved, and was now curled loosely in the curve of Geralt’s body, spine pressed comfortably to Geralt’s ribs, waist trapping his left arm. Geralt is curled softly around him, his face nestled up near the back of Jaskier’s neck, his breath stirring the fine hairs there with every exhale. The sweet scent of his skin and soft, heavy warmth of his body weigh Geralt down, making it difficult to want to waken. A warm haze enfolds him, protecting him, blunting the harsh edges inside of him. He drifts, avoiding consciousness.

Jaskier stirs some time later, as the room begins to warm and become bright and sweaty in the summer heat. He turns his head against his pillow and yawns, snuggling into the welcome feeling of bare skin at his back.

Geralt startles a little at the movement, eyes popping open, noticing that he is not in a familiar environment. As consciousness filters in he feels the heavy warmth of the other man on his arm, along his side, sees the soft brown hairs at the nape of Jaskier’s neck, watches them shiver as he breathes. His heart skips a beat and he frowns. Half frightened and half fascinated, he leans forward to brush his lips along the hairs, feeling the prickle of them. He revels guiltily in the warmth of Jaskier’s skin against his lips, his heart twisting as he takes in the soft oaky, soapy smell. The world is trickling back in faster now, and with it, bleak sensations of sorrow and fear.

“Ah, fuck,” Geralt sighs, without any real rancor. He drops his head back against the pillow and rolls onto his back, his side still pressed up against Jaskier’s skin as if he can’t quite bear to part from him.

Jaskier lifts his head sleepily. “Hmm?” he murmurs, voice thick. He lets out a yawn and stretches, then rolls over and puts his chin on Geralt’s chest, looking up at him from under his lashes. Despite the morning stubble he looks younger in the morning light, face smoothed by sleep, his fine hair unruly. He combs his fingers lightly through it as he asks, “Everything all right?”

Geralt looks down at him, terror and profound fondness twisting around inside of him as he gazes into those wide blue eyes. Hesitantly, he runs experimental fingers through the soft short hairs at the back of Jaskier’s head, down along his neck, feeling the light prickle beneath his fingertips. As he does so he gropes for words, golden eyes searching Jaskier’s face as if he will find answers there.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he grimaces, voice low and rough with sleep. He clears his throat, shaking his head and breaking away from Jaskier’s gaze, glancing to the side to see out the window. There’s not much to be seen through the lacy curtains, just the driveway, Jaskier’s car, and a neighbor's high wooden fence. “This is what got me in trouble in the first place.” He takes his hand off of the back of Jaskier’s neck and scrubs his face with it. The other hand he keeps close to his chest. It aches fiercely, and the bandages on his knuckles need to be changed, but it is far less painful than it was the day before.

Tilting his head to the side, Jaskier studies his face. “What, being in my bed?” he inquires gently, full well knowing that’s not what Geralt meant. He gets more comfortable on Geralt, unselfconsciously splaying his hand across his lover’s chest, careful not to jostle his injured hand.

“No.” Geralt grumps, annoyed at Jaskier’s deliberate obtuseness, but obscurely enjoying the gentle touch that accompanies it. The warmth of it is intoxicating and weirdly painful, making his heart ache. He wants to bury himself in it and vanish again, but in the bright light of day it is so much harder to do that.

“Fucking around like this is what got me fired. I shouldn’t be here.” Geralt struggles to sit up, pushing the sweet heat of Jaskier away from him even though his skin silently cries out at the loss. Jaskier reluctantly lets him, sliding off to the side and pulling the quilt in around his waist. Concerned eyes watch the big man as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and rubs his hand across his white hair, his two day stubble, his pale face. The silence stretches, and Geralt can feel Jaskier behind him, can almost feel him choosing his next words carefully.

Normally, Jaskier wouldn’t cut right to the chase like this, but he suspects that the big man is about to make a break for it. Praying his words won’t be received the wrong way, Jaskier asks, “Geralt, I hope you won’t mind me being impertinent, but… Is that really true?" He knew that the Army had a long and storied history of coming down on gay soldiers far more harshly than others; Jaskier had seen it too many times, one way or another. Not that Geralt hadn’t done anything wrong; if he had gotten caught with another man in front of a camera, he’d clearly been out of bounds. However, it wouldn’t surprise Jaskier if he had been excessively penalized for something that might have been otherwise swept under the rug.

Geralt turns to glare over his shoulder at him. “That’s none of your goddamn fucking business,” he growls, face hardening.

Jaskier spreads his hands out, putting them up in a gesture of surrender. “My mistake,” he says, but he sounds more exasperated than apologetic. “Just… you would not believe the amount of inappropriate sex stories I’ve heard from servicemembers. People get caught doing stupid things all the time. I just wondered…” He cuts off abruptly as Geralt growls again, a deep, unfriendly sound that makes the hair on his arms stand up just slightly.

Geralt glowers at the tousled man sitting on the bed behind him, then down at his fatigue pants on the floor. He wants to get up and walk away from this conversation, but the idea of putting on another pair of fatigues right now actively makes his heart hurt, so he hesitates. Behind him, Jaskier slowly subsides, thankfully silent for another moment.

It gives Geralt time to think, really think, which he hasn’t given himself much chance to do since being discharged. His eyes trace the folds and contours of his pants on the floor, rage, guilt, and sorrow boiling the inside of his body raw. The untold story sits on his tongue like a lead weight. And at his elbow the steady warmth of Jaskier’s body radiates, warm and reassuring. After a life of service, that warm presence is the only one left. No one else to talk to, no one else to lean on. A sudden surge of loneliness spikes through him, cutting through his anger, and he visibly deflates. Licking his lips, he hesitantly begins to speak. He’s surprised to find himself telling Jaskier the truth, but some part of him so badly needs to hear the words said aloud that he almost can’t stop himself. “I knew better. I… I should have never let him do. Uh. What he did. It was my own fault.” He presses his knuckles against his thick thigh and cracks them nervously. “I deserved to be fired.”

Jaskier’s face flickers as he processes this and he bites his lip, trying to feel his way across the minefield of a conversation in front of him. He scrubs his own hand across his face sleepily, wishing deep down that this could have waited until after coffee. On some level, though, he knows he brought it on himself. Closeted older men like Geralt didn’t always do well the morning after, even in the best of circumstances. And this? This definitely was not the best circumstances.

“Mm… that sounds like a very impulsive thing to do,” Jaskier muses delicately. “But was the… uh, sex, really the thing that got you fired?” He leaves this hanging in the air, trying desperately not to push Geralt too hard, not sure if he is succeeding. It is very difficult for him to see a queer man beating himself up like this though. The sheer outrage he feels about the way the Army treats its gay servicemembers is making it very hard for him to hold his tongue or act with discretion. He flinches very slightly as Geralt snarls, but aside from that, refuses to waver, watching Geralt intently. He notices that Geralt begins to flick his fingers rhythmically against his thigh as he thinks, and that the motion seems to calm him.

Geralt gropes for words, feeling like the air is getting sucked out of the room as he searches. After a long silence, he speaks, his voice thick and low. “You’re trying to ask me if I was fired for...uhm. For being with who I was with. Or if I was fired for being inappropriate. Right?”

“Yes, love. That’s what I’m asking,” Jaskier replies gently, wanting more than anything to reach out and run his hands over Geralt’s shoulders and back, to soothe some of the pain away. The man’s body is humming with tension though, nasty sparks of it crackling in the air between them, so Jaskier sits back slightly instead to give him room to think. He can see Geralt’s jaw working, clearly uncomfortable to be confronted with the question so baldly. Slowly, Geralt shakes his head. He looks defeated, and Jaskier aches to see his sadness.

“I don’t know,” he says, and he sounds bone-weary. “I wish I knew, but I don’t.” The words are heavy in his mouth, difficult to get out. In a strange way, as angry as he is, he is also grateful for a chance to talk about it. A lifetime of choking silence feels like it is giving way to something new, though he doesn’t quite understand how yet.

Jaskier sighs, nodding, then tilts his head to the side and runs his eyes over Geralt’s back again. His heart sinks as he notices for the first time that there is a massive map of thin horizontal scars criss-crossing his back, from his shoulders all the way down what is visible of his buttocks. They are faded, old. Probably from childhood. Tears spring unbidden to his eyes, and he looks up at the ceiling quickly to stop them from spilling over his cheeks.

When he regains control, he swallows a few times, then says, “You’re not bad for… wanting… who you want. The world very much wants queers to think we’re bad for loving the way we do, but there’s no… no inherent harm in being interested in other men. No more than there is being interested in women, or anyone else.”

“Tell that to my commission,” Geralt snaps, still staring at his pants.

Jaskier grimaces, clenching and unclenching his hands and trying not to let Geralt’s anger throw him. He knows it’s not personal, but he is so upset about how unjustly Geralt has been treated that it is hard for him to retain his center. Wrestling with his own discomfort, he looks for something kind to say, and settles on, “Okay… yes. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want… I don’t think anyone should ever think they’re bad for being queer, Geralt. It’s just not… it’s not fair. It’s not fair to you, it’s not fair to anyone else.” He pauses, then adds softly, “I didn’t choose to be the way I am, did you?”

Geralt’s shoulders sink until he is hunched down, cheek held lightly against his splinted hand, all of the remaining anger draining out of him and leaving him feeling icy and frozen inside. Slowly, slowly, he shakes his head ‘no.’

The way he unconsciously pulls in after he shakes his head, like he is expecting to be hit, makes Jaskier’s stomach plunge. Unable to help himself, Jaskier reaches out to Geralt, but he twists out from under Jaskier’s hands with the speed of instinct. Jaskier leans back immediately, guessing how deeply upset the other man must be given how badly his own heart is racing. His lips thin in frustration and sadness. He pulls his hands back into his lap, eyes tracing over the scars on Geralt’s back helplessly as he thinks.

“Well… I didn’t either. And neither did Yarpen, or any of the people you worked with or served in my bar. I don’t know who told you what, Geralt, but…” Jaskier sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Look. In my house, you’re safe. No one’s here but me, and I’m not going to terrorize you. Ok? You can work out the rest later when you’re ready.” He slides his legs over the side of the bed, sitting carefully next to Geralt without touching him. Giving the other man an awkward little smile, he adds, “That is, if you don’t run away screaming. Was this all too much for you?” He gestures vaguely at the bedroom, including himself in the gesture, recalling the intimacy of the night before.

Much to Geralt and Jaskier’s mutual surprise, Geralt begins, quietly, to chuckle, a hollow painful sound. He puts his face into his hand, covering his eyes, and shakes his head. “Oh… I don’t know, Buttercup,” he groans, Jaskier smiling slightly as he hears the nickname.

“I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” Geralt confesses. “I feel like I died and just haven’t stopped walking yet, and I’m wondering when I’m going to drop. I don’t know what the fuck is happening to me anymore.” He presses on his eyes until he can see stars, trying to process everything he’s feeling, feeling like he’s drowning in icy water instead. He sits, caught in a whirl of gnawing guilt and profoundly lonely hunger. Everything he’s ever thought he was is falling out from under him, leaving him disoriented and desperately craving safety.

Feeling powerless, Jaskier sits at his side, wishing that he knew the magic words to make it better. He’d make it all go away in a heartbeat, if only he knew how.

After a moment, Geralt heaves a deep sigh and continues, “And I know I should regret…” he pauses, groping for words. He settles lamely on, “Last night. I know I should regret you. But I… Hmm.” And he reaches out suddenly and grabs Jaskier’s hand, surprising himself. He feels like he’s tearing in two, but he craves a return to the sunny warmth of Jaskier’s touch so badly that it doesn’t matter. The heat of Jaskier’s hand in his own makes Geralt’s hungry skin sing . Jaskier startles, but not unpleasantly. Then he lightly squeezes his hand back, a crooked smile lighting his face. Geralt grimaces, guilt and shame and desire causing his cheeks to heat and his heart to freeze, but he doesn’t let go.

“Thank you, I think?” Jaskier laughs softly, and Geralt ducks his head, embarrassed. “For what it’s worth, I very much do not regret being with you, either.” He gives Geralt a frank, curious look, running his finger over Geralt’s knuckles. Geralt twitches and pulls away, but when Jaskier stops rubbing, he allows his hand to fall back into Jaskier’s. He lifts his head slightly, watching his kind lover out of the corner of his eye, his expression guarded.

Jaskier catches Geralt’s eye and smiles at him, warm as the morning sun. “Thank you for your trust, dear heart. For your body, for your… mm, everything.” His eyes flicker fondly over Geralt’s naked, scarred body beside him, and his smile widens ever so slightly. “I so very much want to do it again sometime.” He gives Geralt’s hand a little squeeze, and Geralt feels warmth race up his arm, making his heart skip and flutter despite the gnawing icy ache.

“Maybe some coffee and a shower first, though, hmm? And we’d promised we’d have a bit of a talk,” Jaskier gently releases Geralt’s hand and stands up. “You’re welcome to use my shower, love, it’s right through that door. I’ll go put towels out for you and get some coffee going.” Stepping carefully around the tangle of clothing on the floor, Jaskier snags some boxer briefs out of a dresser.

Geralt watches as he hops into them awkwardly, taking in the long muscular lines of his body as he wrestles with his undergarments, oddly charmed by his gawky movements. He twists between shame and longing as his eyes linger on Jaskier’s strong hips and firm ass, finds himself already craving the soft heat of his skin once more even as some part of him quietly insists that he is broken for wanting it.

Jaskier, oblivious, slips through a door near the foot of his bed that Geralt hadn’t noticed in the dark. There’s sounds of rummaging, of running water, and then Jaskier emerges and flashes Geralt another brief smile before vanishing out the bedroom door.

Geralt watches Jaskier go, at a loss for words. His hand is still warm from Jaskier’s touch, tingling and prickling where their skin was in contact. He flexes it thoughtfully, eyes turning to the door of Jaskier’s bedroom, listening to the distant sounds of bustling coming from the kitchen. The heat of the man’s presence is like sunlight, and without him the room feels colder, empty.

He turns his head to take in the messy bedroom, finally registering all of the crumpled laundry on the floor, the paper outside the wastebasket, the lumps of fabric peeking out from under the closet door. The mess causes him to glower, makes him feel itchy under his skin. He wonders silently how Jaskier lives like this, with socks scattered on the floor like leaves. His own crumpled clothing lies near his feet.

Giving it a guilty grimace, he picks it up and smooths it out, folding it and placing it on the bed in a neat pile before heading naked over to the half-open master bathroom door. After military school, much less the Army, walking bare in a stranger's room barely phases him. What does bother him, though, is his skin. It pulls where come has dried on it, and he brushes his fingers over his hip musingly as he walks. The touch conjures a little flash of memory, of Jaskier's head thrown back in the moonlight. He flinches and draws his hand back, overwhelmed.

The first thing he sees in the surprisingly clean bathroom is a white sink under a mirrored medicine cabinet. It is fitted to a blue tiled wall. The cleanliness is a welcome contrast to the chaos of the master bedroom, and Geralt finds himself relaxing slightly. Immediately next to the sink is a tall white cabinet with several small doors, dividing the sink from the tub. The tub itself is huge, both deep and long, more than large enough for even a big man like Geralt to sink into and get a good soak. Draped over the edge of it is a large light blue towel, soft and fluffy, with a hand towel, a washcloth, and a fresh unopened plastic razor sitting on top of it. At the very end of the bathroom, built between the large tub and the wall, is a shower stall enclosed in rippled glass. It is steamed over, the water inside already running.

Geralt takes all this in numbly, feeling like his insides are slowly becoming one great big block of ice. The gnawing feeling that this isn’t where he should be sets in deeper now that he is alone, feeling out of context in this cozy, welcoming bathroom. Still, he needs a shower, and a shave, and he can’t think of a better way to go about getting them. So he goes over to the towel and picks up the razor. Every step he takes across the bathroom sees him sink deeper into chilly, crushing depression, an uncomfortably familiar part of washing a lover off of his skin.

He barely sees the inside of the stall, tuning it out as he goes through the motions of cleansing himself, careful to keep his injured hand as dry as possible. He uses the little mirror hanging on the wall to clumsily shave his face. The inability to perform his usual shaving routine makes him feel so tense that his shoulders and stomach physically ache, but the idea of the stubble overtaking his face is far worse, so he fumbles his way through until he is finished. When he is done he is nicked in several places, but finally feels clean. Heaving a heavy sigh of relief, he rinses and exits the shower.

As he exits, he hears music playing in the other room, far quieter than yesterday, upbeat and cheery. “ Roam, if you want to… ” he hears a woman sing, “All around the world…” The song is unfamiliar, but pleasant enough. He snags the towel and rubs himself dry with it, listening to the rustles and scrapes of Jaskier in the main living space. When he is dry, he wraps the towel and around his waist, leaving the bathroom. What he sees causes him to draw up short, depression snapping suddenly into irrationally potent rage. On the floor near the foot of the bed is a box, marked “Clothing.” On top of it are the attic keys.

“Jaskier!” He barks out, his voice cutting across the house like a gunshot. “What the everloving fuck is this?” His jaw clenches as he stares at the box on the floor. He hears a muffled swear from the other room, indistinct through the music, and then Jaskier’s feet thumping rapidly across the wood floor to the bedroom door.

Jaskier opens it and gives Geralt a worried look, unsure why he’s been yelled at. “Geralt! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you, I just thought you wouldn’t want to put your dirty clothes back on…” he trails off, visibly withering under the weight of Geralt’s thousand watt glare.

“Don’t. Touch. My. Things.” Geralt grates out, standing stiffly over the box. “Did you touch anything? What did you touch?” He rounds on Jaskier, and Jaskier shrinks back, face going from worried to ‘oh shit,’ blue eyes wide and startled.

“Oh god nothing, Geralt, I’m really sorry, I promise that’s the only box I touched,” he replies, looking a bit panicked. Studying the tension in Geralt’s body, he brings his hands up in a gesture of unconditional surrender. “I swear, I didn’t even look,” he promises. “I just grabbed the one box and came straight downstairs, I haven’t even looked inside it. I promise I was just trying to help.”

“Don’t help me.” Geralt snaps, turning away from Jaskier. He considers the box for another moment, weighing his options. Though he is furious, rationally, there is no real harm in what Jaskier has done, providing that none of his other boxes has been touched. He settles on snarling, “Get out of here. I need to get dressed. And…” he turns back, giving Jaskier such a menacing look that Jaskier takes a step back, “If you so much as fucking touch anything else of mine, we will have a fucking problem. Got it?”

“Got it,” Jaskier gulps. “I’m really s-”

“Go!” Geralt barks. Jaskier startles and exits quickly, cursing under his breath. Geralt grumbles and kneels down, picking up the box and setting it on the bed, catching the keys as they slide and setting them back on the neatly folded pile of his fatigues. He feels obscurely guilty for the amount of rage he took out on Jaskier, but also quite justified in telling the spoony little bastard to stay away from his personal things.

Still muttering, he opens the lid to the box. As he pulls it aside he falls silent. Inside are his clothes from his first few years in the Army, undisturbed as promised. They look like they will still more or less fit him. White, crisp, short-sleeved button down shirts. Plain khaki pants. Belts. Even some rolled up dress socks that he had barely worn but felt bad about discarding.

A jet engine roared behind him as he strode confidently off of an air strip, dispersing from a column of men and heading for a steel door on the side of a tan building. Over his shoulder was thrown a duffel sack, and on his head was a neat black beret. Gold bars shone on his shoulders, showing his rank of Second Lieutenant. It was his first day on the foreign base, and he was reporting for duty.

As he approached the door, it banged open. From within the building emerged a slight woman with a mass of curly dark hair trapped in a neat braid, an exasperated-looking man at her heels. She was dressed in an impeccable black blazer and slacks with a white blouse underneath, a pass pinned to its lapel that identified her as press. And as she barged around him, snapping, “Move it, boot!” he could see that her eyes were a startling shade of violet. He stumbled back, surprised, making way for her and her companion.

The man following her was broad-shouldered and brown, with a closely shorn head of dark hair. He had an easygoing-looking face with a short beard, pockmarked cheeks, and kind eyes. He was wearing fatigues, and had the same press pass as the woman clipped to his tan shirt. Over his shoulder was slung a black bag, and over his neck hung a worn camera case. As he passed Geralt, he gave him a friendly wink.

Geralt turned, watching them head across the tarmac, feeling like he’d been hit between the eyes with a hammer. Never in his entire life had he seen a woman like that, one that made his heart race just seeing her. And on the air, surrounding him, was the smell of lilac and gooseberries.

He feels a lump rising in his throat as he reaches into the box, fingering the empty shoulders of his white shirt where the insignia used to be pinned. The anger is draining away, turning back into something cold and weary as he looks over the old clothing. Then he pulls the shirt out, flaps it once to unfold it, and begins putting it on. It is very slightly tight across the chest and shoulders, but still fits. He reaches next for pants, lost in memory.

As he stumbled into the darkness of the building, feeling caught off balance, a voice snapped from down the hallway, “Rivii! Is that you? Get your dumb fucking ass in here!” His stomach plunged with a sudden sensation of dread. That was an ominous way to be greeted by a commanding officer he hadn’t even met yet.

“Yes, sir!” he called down the hallway, speeding up to a neat trot and coming to a halt in front of the older man glaring in an open doorway. Snapping off a crisp salute, he said, “Second Lieutenant Rivii, reporting for duty, Sir.” The older man’s lip curled, and he grunted, stepping back into his office.

“You’re late,” he said to Geralt, who was not, in fact, late. Geralt suppressed a grimace, keeping his face carefully wooden as he watched the Captain stride across the room and sit behind a desk with an expression like a sour old bulldog. “Well?” he barked.

“Sorry, sir, won’t happen again sir.” Geralt replied cautiously, not sure exactly what was expected of him. This was not how he wanted his first day on the job to look. He planted his feet and placed his hands behind his back in parade rest, eyeing the other man stoically, waiting to see what was in store. What was in store for him turned out to be the lecture of a lifetime. The Captain chewed into him like a buzzsaw, taking him pre-emptively to task for every fuck-up he was likely to make as a green officer, plus a few unlikely ones that left him quietly impressed at whoever must have come before him. He made a mental note to find out what an ibex was.

As the Captain wound down, he pulled his attention back in, hands still held behind his back, shoulders thrown stiffly back. “...And the last thing,” the Captain barked. “Is that you will be taking that bitch from the AP off my hands. She is now officially your problem, Rivii. You keep that woman so happy she’s shitting rainbows, or I will have your commission. Got it?”

The sinking feeling that Geralt had been experiencing this entire conversation turned to cold dread. That woman was… the least happy looking woman he had ever seen. Oh fuck. “Yes sir,” he replied, carefully impassive.

“Good!” Snapped the Captain, turning to the papers on his desk. “You’re dismissed. Report to the barracks.” He gave Geralt a nasty smile. “Then, you better track that press bitch down before she wreaks havoc around here. Now get the fuck out of my office!”

He pulls on his pants, also a little tight around the hips but not unbearably so. They won’t do for long, but they will be fine until he can buy some civilian clothing. Out in the main room he can hear something sizzling, and the smells of good coffee and breakfast cooking are starting to reach him. He finishes dressing, slipping on the belt and socks, before sitting back down on the bed next to the box.

“Oh, you’re here to keep me happy?” The woman’s lip curled. “Might have to kiss that shiny new commission of yours goodbye, pretty boy. I guarantee I am about to make your life a living hell.” She turned away and Geralt started to follow her awkwardly, not sure how to handle this situation. “Oh for the love of-” she snapped, turning back to face him. “If you follow me around this whole base, how am I supposed to get anything done?”

“I’m supposed to help you, ma’am.” He looked embarrassed, and the dark haired man standing behind the woman grinned, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “I uh, can’t leave you unsupervised.”

“Fuck.” She muttered. “Fine, then, follow me. I have people to interview.” And before he could protest, she snapped an itinerary out of the bag at her hip and shoved it in his face, where he could see the official Army seal and a scribbled signature. “Don’t start. Where’s the Major?”

With a sinking feeling, Geralt gestured up the hallway. The woman took to her heel immediately, the man with the big bag falling in behind her. Geralt hesitated for just a moment. “Let’s go, Skippy! We haven’t got all day! ” the woman’s voice cracked out, startling him into motion. He jogged to catch up, swearing under his breath. Army upbringing had led him to expect a hard life in the service, but this? This he was not prepared for.

“Fuck my life,” he grumbled.

Slowly, he rummages through the rest of the box, checking to make sure everything is still in place. His anger has cooled considerably now he is sure that everything is in order. He relaxes slightly, sighs, and rubs his hand across his face again. The lack of stubble is an enormous relief, the sensation of his shaved skin under his palm serving to soothe him further. Placing the lid back on the box, he stands and pockets the attic keys, then grabs his shoes. He quietly slips out of the bedroom and heads for the front door without Jaskier noticing. Fumbling on his boots, he ducks out the door and into the hot summer morning air.

The wet New England summer hits him like a soggy, steaming blanket as the door closes behind him. Grimacing in disgust, Geralt heads around the side of the house. By the time he reaches the top of the stairs, he feels like his shirt is already sticking to him. He opens the door to the attic loft, feeling his stomach twist nervously, half expecting to see his things scattered all over the attic. Much to his intense relief, however, he can see that everything looks absolutely untouched. The box of letters on the bed is still closed, hasn't moved an inch. Every other item is still where he put it.

He heaves a quiet sigh of relief and drops the box of clothing next to the dresser. Then he snags his bag, fishing out his deodorant and a clean pair of underwear from its depths. As he paws through it, he sees the sheaf of letters that he keeps carefully tucked at the back, and hears the jingle of his dog tags at the bottom of the sack. He’d taken them off when he was discharged, stuffed them in his bag. Not ready to confront either of these things, he leaves them in their places and heads to the bathroom.

When he is done, he grabs his dress loafers out of their box before he heads back downstairs. He slips them on as he heads out the door. They are stiff, and shiny, but also significantly easier to get on and off than his boots were. The anger he was feeling has faded to a faint buzz of frustration, barely noticeable over the background of icy depression which has resumed its grip on his body.

As he slips in the front door, music washes back over him, the house filled with the pleasant sound of people singing in chorus, “If you need me, let me know. Gonna be around, if you've got no place to go, when you're feeling down...” He eases the door closed, disliking the “thump” it makes when closed normally, and toes his loafers off next to Jaskier’s unruly collection of shoes in the entryway. Quietly, he pads across the house to the kitchen, towards the coffee smells, towards Jaskier, who is singing and dancing in his underwear and bare feet while he watches something on the stove.

Jaskier is holding a coffee cup, which he sips occasionally between snatches of song. He lifts the lid of the pan on the stove, curses as he burns himself on the steam, drops the lid and sucks his fingers, then tries again. This time he is apparently more successful, because he nods in satisfaction. The steam smells good, eggy and rich.

Geralt approaches on habitually silent feet, coming to rest at the corner of the kitchen island. He clears his throat carefully, trying not to startle Jaskier too badly. This… utterly fails. Jaskier’s hands fly up, coffee mug dropping to the floor and shattering, hot coffee splashing all over the kitchen floor.

“Fucking Jesus! Geralt! Where the hell did you come from?!” he gasps, putting his hand over his hammering heart. Geralt, nearly as startled as Jaskier, gives him a wide-eyed look, eyes traveling between Jaskier’s wide-eyed face and the shattered coffee mug on the floor.

“Um.” Geralt manages awkwardly, at a loss for words. Coffee drips from the hair on Jaskier’s legs, and his bare feet are surrounded by little ceramic shards. Embarrassed, Geralt kneels down and begins picking them up. Jaskier goes to move and Geralt makes a little gesture, indicating that he should stop before he cuts himself. The look Jaskier gives Geralt is a little wild-eyed, but he complies, holding still while Geralt gathers the worst of the shattered cup up off of the floor.

“Sorry,” he rumbles apologetically. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He stands with easy grace, moving around the other side of the kitchen island to where he saw Jaskier stow the trash can near the back door last night. “I’m quiet on my feet.”

“You are… not wrong,” Jaskier gasps, gaping at his dripping legs. “Fuck, Geralt! How did you even get that quiet?!” He grabs the dish rag off of the stove and begins to gingerly wipe his legs off, trying not to move his bare feet and step on any of the shards. Then he shakes his head, muttering, “Sorry, stupid question, I just…”

Geralt kneels down in front of him carefully, trying to get in his line of sight before making eye contact. “Sorry,” he apologizes again, lips quirking in a little half-smile. He holds his hand out for the towel, and Jaskier hands it over to him, still slightly flustered. Geralt very carefully wipes the last of the broken cup away from Jaskier’s feet.

Jaskier watches him kneeling there, broad shoulders moving beneath the white button down. Darting his tongue across his lower lip and trying to restart his brain, he stutters, “It’s ok. Um. Jesus fuck, Geralt, I’m going to have to put a bell on you.” He breaks out in a flustered grin, watching as Geralt rises and goes to the bin. He shakes the towel out as best he can and sets it on the counter gingerly, then goes to wash his hand in the sink. Jaskier rakes his hair out of his eyes and looks him over.

“Are you ok? No cuts?” He turns back to the stove, returning his attention to the pan.

“I’m fine. Are your feet okay?” Geralt asks, keeping his eyes on his hands.

“Fine, thanks to you,” Jaskier hums pleasantly, cutting a frittata apart in the cast iron pan and beginning to serve it. “And… look, about your stuff-”

“Stop.” Geralt grumps, frowning. “It’s over.”

“I just wanted to ap-”

“Stop! Just don’t touch it again,” Geralt snaps, shaking his wet hand off and looking around for a towel. With a slightly wounded look on his face, Jaskier fishes one out of a drawer and hands it to him. Geralt takes it, his face falling a little when he sees the look on Jaskier’s face. His habits of speech could be anywhere from rough to downright unfriendly, especially when he was upset, but he hadn’t meant to hurt or scare him. He grimaces and dries his hand off, passes the towel silently back to Jaskier, and goes to sit down on the stool he picked the night before. Settling onto it, he fiddles with his bandage, feeling guilty and wrong-footed.

Jaskier eyes him uncertainly for a moment, looking like he’s about to say something but then biting it back. Instead, he brings him a fresh mug of coffee and a plate with a quarter of ham and green onion frittata. There’s cheddar on top, and Jaskier pushes over salt and pepper grinders so that Geralt can season it. After serving himself and getting a new mug, he settles in on his own stool and eyes Geralt warily.

Geralt avoids his eyes and digs into his breakfast, embarrassed. After the MREs and mess hall food he had been subjected to in Somalia, the eggs are just this side of heavenly. He tries to eat this meal a little more slowly than the dinner of the night before, forcing himself to slow down and chew. There’s no rush, and although everything feels desperately unfamiliar, he also gets the sense that he is genuinely safe.

“This is really good. Thank you,” Geralt mumbles, poking a piece of egg around with his fork, still embarrassed.

Jaskier looks up over his mug and the corners of his bright eyes crinkle. He takes a long sip of his coffee, gaze softly roaming over Geralt. He seems more relaxed now, the dangerous tension mostly gone from his frame, and Jaskier finds himself slowly relaxing too. “You’re very welcome,” he responds, warming back up. “I really enjoy having the excuse to cook, I let myself get lazy being on my own. Too many frozen pizzas after the bar,” he drawls, and chuckles. “They’ll be the death of me but I love them.”

“Don’t you get home at three or four in the morning?” Geralt asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, don’t judge me!” Jaskier laughs. “Sometimes pizza and wine is the only way to wash down coming home at that ungodly hour.” He pauses and takes a sip of coffee, waving his long hands about. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my bar almost as much as I love breathing, but the schedule can be awful when the books come due.”

“What, you do them in the middle of the night?” Geralt shakes his head, forking up the last of his frittata.

“Well of course! Best time, when it’s all quiet and I don’t have any excuses to run off and avoid them,” Jaskier laughs. “There’s too many better things I could be doing during the day.”

“Hmm,” Geralt chuckles, shaking his head again in disbelief. “Sounds like a terrible plan.”

“Well, when you start running the bar, I’ll take your opinion into account,” Jaskier says lightly in return, a teasing grin playing about the corners of his mouth. “Speaking of which… What are your plans, now that you’re back in the States?”

The smile falls off of Geralt’s face and he looks down at his mug. He flashes on the boxes upstairs again and feels an icy rush of guilt that rolls across him like freezing water. Jaskier eyes him, then stands and takes Geralt’s plate back to the stove. He refills it with another portion of frittata and pushes it across the island to Geralt, before settling back in with his coffee to wait for his answer.

Geralt takes the plate back, grateful for something to focus on other than Jaskier’s inquisitive look, simmering with shame and disquiet. Using his fork to poke at the frittata, slowly pulling it apart, he waits for words to come. “Uh... “ he sighs deeply, shaking his head. “I don’t have any plans yet. I need to find my truck, I need to renew my US driver’s license…” he shrugs uncomfortably. “Need to get a hotel room or something. Find a job. A place. Figure myself out.” His stomach turns sharply as these words leave his mouth, feeling like they burn his lips. The future stretches out in front of him in painful relief, new and alien and empty.

Jaskier nods, rubbing his coffee mug back and forth absentmindedly on his lower lip. He takes a drink, then sets it down. “Your truck’s been towed by now, I should imagine. I have a phone book you can use. I think I even remember which tow service the city usually uses.”

Geralt grunts, nods, takes a bite of his frittata. It’s cheesy and warm, deeply comforting flavors that help anchor him to the here and now. He chews in awkward silence, studying his plate. To be perfectly honest, he had no clue how he was going to land a job with a dishonorable discharge on his record. People who would take an older veteran like himself on faith were thin on the ground, as far as he knew. He starts in surprise when Jaskier speaks again.

“You’re welcome to stay in the attic while you get your legs under you,” he tells Geralt, gesturing to the house with an open hand. “No need to waste money on a hotel. Not forever, mind you, but I should think a few days won’t hurt. My house is a little too quiet with just me in it anyway.”

Geralt lifts his head and looks at Jaskier, surprised and a little wary. “You don’t know me. Why would you do that?”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, pondering his answer. He runs his fingers over the edge of the coffee mug, back and forth, back and forth, then puts it down and leans his elbows on the counter. “Because I can. Because it’s a nice thing to be able to do for someone.” He smiles again, tossing his hair out of his eyes. “And because I like you.”

Geralt flushes and looks away, grabbing his coffee and taking a long drink, grounding himself with the feeling of hot bitter liquid on his tongue. He feels grateful, confused, even a little alarmed by the offer. He also can’t think of anywhere safer to go, not with everything he’s lost. Besides… The idea of being near Jaskier longer feels inexplicably good, despite all of his misgivings. Warming. Groping for words, he settles on grunting into the mug, “It’s your funeral.”

Jaskier laughs at that, unphased. “It’s my pleasure, darling.” He goes quiet for a moment, watching Geralt as he eats. Then he says, “You should consider getting your server’s permits, too.” Jaskier nudges him lightly with his toe. “I was really impressed by how you handled the bar during rush. People who’ve been serving for years don’t stay as cool-headed as you did. How did you learn to mix drinks?”

Geralt blinks, not sure he heard Jaskier properly. “Server’s permits?” he asks dumbly.

“Server’s permits, that’s what I said! Food and drink! I can take you down to the city center to get the process rolling, it’s not far from here.” Jaskier replies. “I still need a server down at the Peg. Maybe you could try it… even just for a few weeks. Until you find something better. It’ll give you something recent on your resume, if nothing else,” he points out, then rises, asking, “More coffee?”

“Please,” replies Geralt, grateful for the opportunity to process what Jaskier just said. He holds out his cup and Jaskier refills it, then his own, with nutty, fragrant coffee. Taking another long swallow of the hot beverage to clear his head, he reflects upon Jaskier’s offer. After a few beats of silence, he speaks again.

“I um… didn’t like most of my co-workers very much, so I spent a lot of time in bars when I wasn’t working,” Geralt reveals, flashing his canines in an unpleasant smile. “Got to know the bartenders. Finally got a mixology manual from one of them because I was asking so many questions, and I got hooked.” He shrugs one muscular shoulder, looking out Jaskier’s kitchen window at the shady, ratty yard out behind his house. “Memorized that one when I was in Israel. Next one when I was in Lebanon.” Taking another long sip of coffee, he continues. “Gave me something to focus on that wasn’t... I don’t know. Wasn’t death, I guess. And,” he pauses and shakes his head with a little shrug, "it gave me something to talk about with the bartenders. They make better conversation than most soldiers do. Better friends, too, as far as that goes."

Jaskier tips his head to the side, listening. “Sounds lonely,” he muses, rubbing his foot against his ankle and playing with his coffee mug. Geralt snorts softly into his own mug and nods.

“It was,” he agrees, watching the dark liquid swirl in his cup as he turns it. After a long silence he queries, “What makes you think I’d be a good employee? I just got fired from my last job.”

Jaskier frowns. “Why wouldn’t I? Did you have any other major interruptions in your career?”

Geralt glances up at him, surprised. “No…” he admits, eyeing Jaskier.

“And how old are you, mid-forties? No, don’t answer that, it’s not important,” Jaskier waves his hand, taking a quick sip of his coffee and then continuing. “Point is, I guarantee you I’ve never had anyone else with a job history as stable as yours working in my bar, darling. Unless I’m missing some terrible secret, I’d hazard a guess that you’d be a wonderful asset to our little crew.” He gives Geralt a friendly look. Geralt looks back at him in bewilderment.

Geralt is accustomed to many things, but being trusted so deeply and immediately is not one of them. It’s disorienting. Much to his horror, he feels a deep blush creeping up the collar of his shirt and making a bid for his cheeks. Turning his attention back to his coffee, he tries to get his bearings. Jaskier watches him kindly, turning his mug in his hands.

“I don’t understand,” Geralt settles on saying, looking down at his plate. He feels so warm under that gaze that it makes it hard to think, much less answer a question like that clearly. Jaskier smiles gently as he replies.

“I’m trying to hire you, Geralt. Was I not being clear?” Jaskier teases lightly. To his surprise as well as Geralt’s own, Geralt cracks a smile. The white-haired man shakes his head, still staring into his coffee.

“Let me think about it?” he says finally.

“Ah, of course, darling!” Jaskier exclaims warmly. “Do you still want me to take you to get the permits? Just in case?” He forks up the last of his frittata, then stands and takes his dishes to the sink. While he waits for Geralt to answer he begins to rinse the dirty dishes and prepare them for the dishwasher. Behind him, Geralt licks coffee off of his lips and watches Jaskier move, eyes playing over the bare skin of his long back and broad, muscular shoulders.

“Sure,” he says, finally, and downs the last of his coffee. What the hell. His life had gone to fucking hell in a handbasket. While he felt too vulnerable to just say yes, the offer at least held up some kind of hope for his otherwise alarmingly blank future.

He shakes his head and pulls his plate close, cleaning the last of his breakfast off of it hungrily. "I'm going to get fat if you keep feeding me like this," he grumbles, standing with his dishes and rounding the island to take them to the sink.

Jaskier takes them with a sunny smile, tilting his head to catch Geralt’s golden eyes with his own. “I somehow doubt that,” he says, a little playful purr at the very edge of his voice. Geralt looks quickly up at the ceiling, not sure how to react but enjoying the feel of Jaskier’s warmth nearby. Jaskier gently elbows him, smiling to himself as he rinses the dishes.

“The phone book is right next to the phone, darling.” He gestures behind him to the section of wall between his bedroom door and the kitchen, where there is a low wooden bookshelf with a phone sitting on top. “I think the towing company’s called Meehan’s.” Teetering somewhere between gratitude and embarrassment, Geralt nods his thanks and crosses to the telephone.

What follows is a frustrating and instructive hour in the vagaries of municipal administration. Jaskier was right about the usual tow company’s name, but it turns out they were not the ones contracted for the industrial neighborhood Geralt left his truck in. Grumbling, Geralt takes down a few numbers with the pad and pen next to the phone, then begins his hunt.

By the time Geralt has found his truck, he is boiling with frustration. The rest of the morning and much of the afternoon is consumed with visits to various government buildings to deal with paperwork. The evening is taken over by the ordeal of retrieving Geralt’s ancient truck, which obliges eventually to start at the tow yard. Geralt drives it all the way back to Jaskier’s home with the heater on high and the windows all the way open, a grueling trip in the thick summer evening heat.

By the time they arrive back at the house, Geralt is miserable and covered in sweat, and Jaskier is running late to get to the bar. While Geralt showers upstairs and changes into fresh clothing, Jaskier quickly reheats some dinner for Geralt. By the time he comes downstairs, Jaskier is dressed in clean clothing and is pulling his shoes on by the door. He pauses before he leaves to squeeze Geralt’s arm fondly, indicating where dinner sits on the kitchen island and letting him know that he is welcome to pour himself some wine and make himself at home. Then he flits away, leaving Geralt standing in the entryway.

Geralt watches the door close behind him, feeling a little at loose ends. He trails through the darkened house, coming to rest in the pool of light that is the kitchen. The meal is leftover chicken and potatoes from the night before, still delicious the second time around. He hunts around in the kitchen drawers for a corkscrew, helps himself to some wine, and settles in at the island to eat his meal. The house feels smaller somehow, less full of life without Jaskier in it. His depression, which he has been holding at bay for most of the day, now returns to quietly envelop him as he eats.

The bottle of wine and the food both vanish silently in the cooling emptiness of the kitchen. When he is done, Geralt carefully rinses the dishes and places them in the dishwasher, then seeks out the recycling and dumps the wine bottle into it. This done, he dithers in the kitchen. The upstairs loft and its bed beckons, but he isn’t tired, and the idea of spending time in the company of reminders of loss and failure makes him feel like he can’t breathe. He can’t ever go home, and he doesn’t want to think about that right now.

Instead he scans the house, searching for something to do that won’t leave him feeling like he is choking on cold water. The books, normally a draw, look like too much effort to read. The CD player looks a little out of his league, and after browsing Jaskier’s music collection (heavy on ABBA, light on the hand drumming Geralt prefers,) he gives up on that, too. Finally, his eyes settle on the television. There was almost always one running somewhere on base. While he’d never particularly gotten into watching it, he knew that sometimes it could be oddly soothing. Opening another bottle of wine and grabbing his glass, he brings them over and sets them on the little end table near the couch, grabs the remote, and flicks it on.

There isn’t much to watch at this time of night, and he ends up settling on some awful show he can’t follow about a kung-fu cowboy. It’s meaningless, and numbing. It’s something he can at least drink wine to while he watches it. The depression settles slowly into a gnawing background torment, and in it, he eventually finds a kind of quiet. After the show ends, he finds something else. When that ends, he eventually settles on a late night Looney Tunes rerun, which is at least familiar. He empties the wine bottle slowly as he watches, and when he is done, he disposes of it carefully and washes his glass before returning to the couch.

Jaskier finds him there some hours later when he returns from the bar, the television still flickering across his sleeping face. His injured hand is cradled against his chest, and the shadows under his eyes are deep in the pale light from the screen. Tsking softly, Jaskier turns off the television and brushes his fingers carefully over Geralt’s left wrist, waking him without startling him.

“Hey,” he whispers, hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at the exhausted man on the couch. Geralt wakes as Jaskier touches him, eyes wide and lost. He looks like he is drowning in icy water, frightened and alone. As their eyes meet, Jaskier feels like a great shard of ice leaps between them, burying itself in his heart. He reaches out on instinct, gently drawing Geralt up off of the couch. He's seen dying men before, seen the look in their eyes, and his skin prickles coldly as he sees the way Geralt is looking at him. There’s no way he can leave this man alone tonight. He wasn’t intending to get this close with Geralt this quickly, but that look… it fills him with a quiet, abiding fear. Without another word, Jaskier leads him to his bedroom across the house.

Geralt follows him quietly, trailing in the wake of Jaskier's warmth like a moth seeking a flame. The wine has worn off in the intervening hours, leaving nothing to blunt the emptiness and pain he is feeling. But there, in the darkness, is Jaskier, all warm skin and good smell and kindness. He doesn’t really understand why he undresses next to him in the darkness of his bedroom, doesn’t know why he can’t just walk away and go upstairs to sleep. But, as they slide into bed together in the thick darkness of 3 am, he knows that the heat of Jaskier’s skin on his skin brings welcome relief to the desolation inside of him. He knows that the heavy weight of Jaskier’s head on his chest is oddly peaceful, that the sound of his breath in the silence is music. Laying in the darkness, he tentatively brings his arms up around the handsome man curled along the length of his body, and is rewarded by a contented sigh. Jaskier sinks heavily against him, and before long, he is asleep. Soothed, Geralt soon follows him.

Morning comes slowly, in pieces. First, a sensation of pressure, heavy warmth holding him to the bed. Movement, the minute feeling of his rising and falling chest pressed against another breathing person. Scent, the smell of sweat and skin and linen. And as he wakes more fully, the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is Jaskier. The elfin man is lying fully on his chest, stomach resting between his thighs, quietly studying his sleeping face.

When his eyes open, Jaskier’s thoughtful expression transforms into a sleepy smile. “Good morning,” he hums affectionately, stroking his hand across Geralt’s broad chest. The warm weight of him is alien but also deeply soothing, and Geralt’s arm instinctively tightens where it has come to rest around Jaskier’s waist. Geralt can feel his heart speeding up as a tangle of longing and confusion and deeply-ingrained fear wells up in him.

Atop him, Jaskier firms his strokes across his chest, starting at the center and kneading outwards, providing deep, calming pressure. Geralt struggles with the fear while those soothing hands work. As consciousness trickles back in he realizes that, unlike most of his life, there’s no one here to discover him in bed with a male lover. No reason to be afraid, or to run. Safe.

He shivers a little as Jaskier looks up at him from under his eyelashes, feeling a spike of heat run from the crown of his head to the base of his spine, breaking up the icy grip of the fear. And when Jaskier darts his tongue over his lower lip before he leans up to catch Geralt’s mouth in a kiss, Geralt groans helplessly with pleasure. Feeling like he’s falling off of a cliff, he uses his good arm to draw Jaskier in closer. Their legs tangle and he shivers again, heartsick and dizzy with desire.

Jaskier gives a small murmur of pleasure into Geralt’s mouth, and Geralt feels his mind melting, the soft little sound washing away his worries in a flood of sudden hunger. He parts his lips slightly, instinctively inviting, and Jaskier slides his body up a little more so that he can softly tongue into Geralt’s mouth. Geralt can feel himself getting hard where his cock is trapped against Jaskier’s stomach, pressed against firm, warm skin. Jaskier purrs and shifts, releasing it so that it’s in a more comfortable position, then delicately lowers his body again. His own cock brushes against Geralt’s thigh, hardening as they kiss.

Geralt hums a delirious little groan, pulling him closer yet. Jaskier follows willingly, deepening their kiss, pressing his cock into the crease of Geralt’s hip as he shifts. Geralt takes a stuttering breath, the last of his mind vanishing as he feels velvety heat brush over his sensitive skin. He spreads his big hand across Jaskier’s lower back to keep the pleasurable sensation close, craving more of it.

Jaskier gives a soft chuckle into their kiss, experimentally rocking his cock against his lover’s sensitive skin again. He is rewarded by a soft, deep moan of startled pleasure, a sound happily captured between their hungrily moving mouths. Jaskier rocks more firmly this time, drawing another sweet moan from Geralt. They begin moving together, tentatively at first, mouths and tongues and hips seeking a rhythm. As they discover a good pace, they begin to move more confidently.

The hot sensation of Jaskier’s cock rubbing along the exquisitely sensitive crease of his hip is driving Geralt crazy. It’s all he can focus on, all he can feel, and soon he is trembling with desire. His body, unused to being able to relax into a lover’s embrace, is singing with unfamiliar tension and hunger. He finds a soft cry of disappointment escaping his lips as Jaskier lifts his hips away and draws back. It only takes him a moment to realize why, however. Jaskier breaks their kiss and winks at him, then leans over him and reaches out to fumble open the drawer in the small table right next to the bed. Inside, from what Geralt can see from his vantage point, is a stash of condoms and a blue-and-white bottle of lube.

Jaskier paws into the drawer and grabs one of the condoms, flourishing it playfully between two fingers before sitting back between Geralt’s thighs and smiling at him. Geralt gapes back at him, bewildered and so aroused he can barely feel his own face. He watches as clever fingers unwrap the condom, discarded wrapper falling to the side, watches as Jaskier reaches out and firmly grasps Geralt’s cock. A shock goes through Geralt’s body as fingers close around the base of it. He’s so sensitive that he jolts, but Jaskier is a quick study. He knows now that he has to hold firmly for it to feel good, and he does so with one hand, using the other to slide the condom skilfully down over Geralt’s aching erection.

Geralt watches this silently, a flush of pleasure creeping up his pale cheeks. When Jaskier slides back and ducks his head down, his eyes widen, his hand instinctively coming up to hold Jaskier’s shoulder. And when Jaskier’s mouth wraps around him he growls pleasurably, a deep bass sound. Jaskier moans in response, lowering his head and taking Geralt deep. Geralt gasps, his eyes fluttering shut, and he loses himself in the wet heat of Jaskier’s hungry mouth.

Taking his own weeping cock in hand, Jaskier begins to quickly stroke himself even as his mouth works its magic upon Geralt. His eyes roll back in his head as Geralt’s hand slides from his shoulder to wind in his hair, surprisingly gentle. He was expecting the big man to fist his hair firmly, but the way Geralt holds his head is soft, almost reverent. Tender, even. That gentleness sends a spike of hot arousal all the way through Jaskier’s body, and he moans deeply around Geralt’s cock.

Geralt cries out at the feeling of vibration, his hips unintentionally bucking. He gentles his hold slightly on the back of Jaskier’s head, not wanting to choke him, but his lover just moves with him, taking the thrust like he barely even noticed it. Jaskier bobs his head as his tongue works, skillfully pulling another cry from Geralt, another bucking motion of his hips. His hand comes up and wraps firmly around the base of Geralt’s erection and then he leans forward, fist pumping his own cock rapidly as he gulps Geralt deep into his mouth again.

“Ohhh, fuck, ” Geralt gasps, hand spasming on the back of Jaskier’s head, feeling a hot twist deep inside of him. “Oh fuck, oh, oh,” he pants, half leaning up off the bed, his body curling into a knot of humming tension. Encouraged, Jaskier bobs his head faster, tongue swirling. With a sharp, sudden cry, Geralt comes, his whole body shaking with the force of the release.

Jaskier whines happily around his cock, moving easily with Geralt as his body twists and shakes. Jaskier’s own hand works harder, faster, his breath coming in short little pants as his tongue works Geralt’s cock all the way through his orgasm. It only takes a few more quick strokes to bring himself over the edge, too. As he comes he releases Geralt from his mouth and throws his head back, releasing a ragged cry that sends a wave of hot prickles across Geralt’s skin. His seed spills between his fingers, dripping onto the sheets in the sticky, stunned silence that follows.

Geralt drops slowly back to the bed, breathing heavily. Between his legs Jaskier lets out a breathless laugh, wiping his hand on the sheet and shaking his hair out of his eyes. Geralt rumbles out a delirious chuckle of his own, bringing his hand up to cover his face as he tries to regain his senses. Jaskier leans over to the bedside table again and pulls open the drawer, fishing out a pack of wet wipes from the depths. He wipes his hand clean, then, delicately, pulls the condom off of Geralt’s cock and knots it. Geralt twitches and shudders, reaching out to grab Jaskier’s shoulder again; Not to stop him, but because the sensation is so strong.

Jaskier smiles dopily, giving Geralt’s thick thigh a kiss before he rises to dispose of the trash. As he does so he passes a wipe to Geralt, who cleans himself gingerly as he watches Jaskier walk across the room to retrieve the wastebasket from beside his desk. He brings it back and sets it near the bed, then crawls back up, laying himself along Geralt’s side lazily.

Geralt tosses the wipe into the trash and leans back, making room for Jaskier to lay himself out along the length of his body. The warmth of all that skin pressing against his own is delicious, and he finds himself feeling greedy for more of it. He carefully rolls and tangles himself in Jaskier, pulling his lover up against him until his chin is resting on top of Jaskier’s head and his arms are draped around him, holding him close. Jaskier hums contentedly, wrapping his own arms around Geralt, and together they drift into a sleepy daze. Geralt is quietly stunned, but the heavy satisfaction he feels spreads warmly across his body, wiping away some of his fear and shame, dragging him slowly down back into sleep.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #witcher fic #geralt x jaskier #geraskier pride week 2020 #geralt #jaskier #yennefer #ahh-fuck writes #ahh-fxck writes

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iron-wall-of-stupidity · 4 years ago

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a/n: hi y’all ✨ welcome to the new blog! for a while i’ve wanted to deposit my babies and their shenanigans somewhere, and when a friend suggested this i was all for it. so uhhh the first few posts should be oc introductories, and since lili’s done hers— or one of hers, really— i guess it’s my turn! hope y’all enjoy my lovies as much as i do after seeing this 🥰

OC Showcase — the Hideki Trio

warnings: crackhead shenanigans, mentions of mature topics

categories: original characters, headcanons, introductions

featured character(s): original characters [Lian Hideki, Shion Hideki, Kian Hideki]

reader type: n/a

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—» Lian, Shion, and Kian are all half-japanese half-english and all have English names

—» Lian’s is Leanne Marie St. Claire, Shion’s is Sean Josiah St. Claire, and Kian’s is Kieran Rosen St. Claire

—» Lian and Shion moved to Japan upon their mother’s death

—» Kian didn’t know a stitch of Japanese then, so he didn’t

—» Out of the two of them in Japan, Lian’s more responsible

—» Shion’s a lowkey drama king but doesn’t wanna admit it and pins the title to Lian

—» Lian’s a hard stan for [group name] and sometimes respond to the question “What do you want to be in the future?” with “[group member]’s sugar baby/mamma” or “[group member]’s bitch 🥺”

—» Shion makes the best resting bitch face

—» Lian’s a touchy drunk

—» Shion’s a sappy, happy drunk

—» I like to imagine that Shion and Lian mess with their own friends or team by dressing as each other and assuming each other’s roles

—» it’s really fucking funny highkey

—» Lian probably scares the shit outta the Dateko VBC when she does pose as Shion... she either overdoes his character or act out of it

—» This probably leads to the team’s wariness of the Hidekis

—» Lian’s own friends do figure them out— Shion’s acting as his sister is horrid and well... her clothes look out of place on him lmao

—» It do be funny though to get the reactions of students and other passersby when they pretend to thirst after Shion/Lian

—» When he feels the need, Shion will kick a s s if anyone messes with his team

—» ngl Lian will join in for some action lmao and because the team becomes her second home hhhhhhhh

—» “boo, you whore” “yes im looking for who asked”

—» Laziness and cautious spending has produced a closet of GN clothes so Shion and Lian, and eventually Kian, can share

—» Lian is a better setter than Shion even if her position is different

—» Shion hates when she brings this fact up

—» Well, in turn, Lian sucks at receives and Shion won’t let her live down the one time in middle school when she totally flunked a really easy one

—» Shion has a faint scar on his forehead from when she blasted a waterbottle at him during that same game

—» “what if by some miraculous chance we win nationals because the other team got too sick to play” “oh my god it’s 4am go to sleep bitch”

—» Lian once replied to a cop “anything is a dildo if you try hard enough” after being told off for sitting on a traffic cone. yes she was drunk. Shion had never been so disappointed in her until that moment

—» Lian doesn’t remember ever saying that

—» When Kian does finally learn Japanese and moves to where his siblings are, Lian totally threw an over the top party

—» highkey kian has an onlyfans and when the other hidekis find out, shion’s disappointed and lian’s amused and teases him about joining lmao

—» KIAN IS SMARTER THAN LIAN KIAN IS SMARTER THAN LIAN KIAN IS SMARTER THAN LIAN

—» contact names go like this:

Kian’s for Lian’s is [mom 👿💕] while Shion’s is [volleyball bitchboy 🏐🖕]

Shion’s for Lian’s is [✨💖💕thotass😘💫🧚🏻‍♀️] while Kian’s is [freeloader🤬🙄😤]

Lian’s for Shion’s is [🥰😍💖deadass✨💫😘] while Kian’s is [🤬💩💔bitchass☠️🖕🙄]

—» the gc name is “tweedle dee, dumb, and dick” go figure who is who lmao

—» KIAN IS A LIGHTWEIGHT DRUNK BUT WONT ADMIT IT

—» he soft babie when under the influence hhhhhh touch and love starved 🥺

a/n two: highkey i’ll probably add more to this as i develop them more, so watch out for reblogs with edits 🥰

#hideki trio #lian hideki #shion hideki #kian hideki #iron wall of stupidity #oc #haikyuu oc #headcanons

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quackspot · 4 years ago

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i started thinking about that gay bastard oc of yours. platano. can u tell me about him

omg u wer thinkgin about platano..... mr banana man... mr 4011. i am obsessed with the banana code srry i just got back from work (it was good :-D)

any way. um. im going below the cut. he kidnaps people and he murders people and i hate him because he’s also a massive weeb so. hm

HISTORY OF PLATANO... yea his name is spanish for banana

his father, pablo, will probably get a name change someday but i literally never think of his father since the only thing he did in platano’s backstory was disappear

since platano’s world has characters based off like. fruits and vegetables (there aren’t really any limit to what the characters are based off of. it was in my lazy google translate name phase so we have like... a gay character named arcenciel who becomes dadlike through my powerful canon-changing touch. also arcenciel wears the colors of the rainbow as often as he can i haven’t figured out a good design for him since i’m not used to using more than 5 colors. he also owns a hat factory)

i think arcenciel and platano are friends they met when platano was like. 17 probably and arcenciel would be around uhhhhh ummmmmmm 21??? idk man but in canon he’s probably around 30 . yes i m saying “in canon” because i wrote a really dumb and horrible story back in 2018 arcenciel used to have HUGE internalized homophobia and i turned that into a running joke and i dislike that so that’s a reason why i’m not sharing the fun little story i wrote for my friends

(the best part of that story is when arcenciel threw his light-up rainbow heelies at platano, thus starting the boss fight which the main cast LOST.)

ok back to the topic at hand. platano.

i have a whole doc named platano where i just wrote drabbles about him so i’m going to summarize them

the first one was his friend, percisi (my only cishet oc he’s very short and very aggressive while also dressing in a soft-colored turtleneck since he’s based off of peaches) using a misunderstood form of satanism to summon satan. guess what percisi and platano summoned satan for. it was a manga update! wow

i won’t say the mangas name it was an inside joke

so platano was like “hey satan can i have this manga now please please” and satan went “sure just kill people for me”

that determined platanos job for the next 7 or so years <3 wonderful.

(it was basically me writing a backstory for a scene to happen in the main writing i wrote for my friends. he killed someone because someone else in the building was trying to summon satan. very confusing but okay i guess.)

i think right after that i wrote about platano meeting his boyfriend, sage, for the first time. i have horribly mixed feelings about their relationship since it’s very. Hm.

so platano kidnaps people to watch anime with him because all his friends left him and his best friend, mangue, is too busy being a dictator over the Land of the Fruits. i shit you not fruits oppressed the vegetables. i wrote that dynamic between the two because i was learning about the revolutionary war in US History. something like that at least

(the Land of the Fruits is not the official name)

on the topic of kidnapping people. guess who his favorite person was. sage. it was sage. so he tried to take sage often but they probably discussed Proper boundaries since everyone else tried to run away. hmm i am now going to write a bit right now

“Platano,” Sage started. “Why do you keep kidnapping me? It’s rude and I hate it.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” The yellow-haired fool leaned on his sword, digging the tip deeper into the ground.

“ASK ME IF I WANT TO HANG OUT??”

“I can do that?”

“You keep making my dads worried.” Sage looked around the area, fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh. Okay. Want to hang out? Watch some anime?” Platano paused for a moment, but managed to say “Maybe kiss?” before Sage got to answer.

“I- KISS??? We can watch anime together. We can go now.”

Sage ushered Platano through a portal as fast as he could.

His dads were never worried.

hmmm maybe that’s alright idk i’m a little tired so it’s probably a little out of character. sage probably isn’t that loud but i think it was trying to be the dynamic of “oh, we’re not dating” when they kiss every sunday at 5 pm by a romantic river scene

he’s a character who is, at his very core, horrible and bad. he is portrayed in a way i DESPISE but i’m too lazy to correct it. his interest in sage actually started with me going “hmm i think platano would draw sage like this” then sauce giving me fun facts about his oc, sage, yea sage is sauce’s oc <3 epic win . so sauce gave me fun facts about sage and i was like “time to doodle these in platanos ‘art style’” when in reality it’s just the mockery of people just getting into an anime art style, with the chin so pointy it could cut a cake

i might reread my old writing from 2018. i gotta agree with the judges for that year i did not write very well

it mightve actually been made in 2017 which would be FUCKIN CRAZY im gonna check rn

yea it was started in 2018. february 14th... huh . finished it completely in june of that year it was 41 pages total and it’s not even double spaced how did i write something without double spacing it

OH MY GOD BOB IS GOING TO HIJACK THIS RANT JUST FOR A LITTLE

so bob is a fluffy little anthro cloud with a grey top hat and bowtie. he is amazing. i love bob. bob is another one of sauce’s character and mangue (mentioned earlier) was made by my friend jamie

(you can always ask for their tumblrs but i’d ask them if its okay to share their tumblrs. i might just look at them and reblog their stuff cuz i like their art!!! maybe jamie posted a drawing she made recently on her blog but tbh i don’t think she would she’s more of a twitter user)

ok so im skimming thru UMG which is the story it stands for “Universe of Magic Gardens” and it was originally made for a prank on ponytown so people would go “what’s UMG” and my friends and i would be like “ur mom gay xDDDDDD” or something like that . horrible but i’m glad i’ve changed from . that.

here’s a bit i actually like AKLJFISJFIO

“What the actual FUCK, Ilkie?!” Arcenciel cringed in fear. “Put it back- it’s too ugly.” He pointed at Platano, whose arms were crossed.

why is it bolded. anyway.

i just saw a part where eau used y’all... water cowboy moments <333 i really need to make refs for all of those old characters. all of my umg-related characters have to be my oldest-living ocs.

i cant believe this is making me genuinely reread my old writing just to go “WJHFSIDAJKSFIOJ WTF????”

some of the lines on it sound like something you would hear on like. a school bus or somethin

looking at umg like “wtf how did i add so much Meat to this writing” bc most of my writing now is mostly quotations to progress the story (like the quickie i wrote earlier. i could add meat to it but im tired lol)

OK THIS IS MORE GENERAL BUT MY FAVORITE THING ABOUT THIS WAS WRITING HAIKUS FOR PORTALS. after you visit a place enough times it’s kind of just an instinct to open a portal there so you don’t have to recite a haiku

uhh ok here’s another bit becuase im feeling like living la vida loca. ur biggest regret should be “can you tell me about him” by this point bc i’ve written too much to go back now

He landed on his face once he was outside of the hat. Meko quickly walked over to the guest room, opened the Portals for Dummies book, and flipped to a page. It looked devious.

“Banana, mango,

Each tasting amazingly.

A taste of evil.”

Meko did the dance on the page, it consisted of something that looks like it’s from an anime. A portal opened, the familiar scent of bananas and mangoes coming from it. With some hesitation, Meko stepped in. He quickly made it so only his head peeked in.

it wasnt bolded this time but i like it bolded. ok i understand how i added meat it was just shitty expired meat ALKFSJSHDAIUJKFEIODSJAK . it wasnt even that much meat DAMN. it just looked like more.

actually that’s all i will write. i could do more w platano but yea at his base he is a blonde twink who kills people because he wanted a manga but now he’s friends with a dictator. woo! wow. amazing character writing. i cant wait to get motivation to rewrite everything and make platano a good villain (he will still be very interested in anime sadly. idk why around that time i liked making characters who were obsessed with anime i didn’t even watch it much myself. i think it was because i wanted to put capes on them)

#I REALLY WENT SLIGHTLY OFF-TOPIC #like i went broader then refocused in at the end #so if you want the basics its just. right at the end #my brain's out of work mode now it's going into the deepfry machine #melon-official

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arianaistired · 6 years ago

Text

My Experience Meeting Taylor (WHAT THE FUCKKKKKK)

@taylorswift THATS US WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

(also I just finished typing this and it’s so so fucking long I’m so sorry this is a warning. I don’t even get to rep room for so long I can’t breathe I’m so sorry)

Okay, so I’m at work right now, but I cannot for the life of me stop thinking about Saturday--which can really be the tagline for the past 3 days of my life--and then I realized that I haven’t posted a single thing about it on tumblr dot com!!! I’ve really not shut the fuck up about it on twitter but this is a whole new platform, a whole new WORLD that I have not tapped into and annoyed everyone by talking CEASELESSLY about this experience. Like I’m pretty sure that everyone is going to murder me on twitter if i don’t shut up soon, but we’re not there yet on papersairplane dot tumblr dot com so here we fucking go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay the story of my day on Saturday really begins on Friday night after Metlife night 1, a joyous occasion wherein Taylor Swift Touched My Hand at the barricade. So I was just like floating on a fucking cloud after that concert, trekking back to the lowly island of Long Island, New York and texting my friend jess @monica-geller. I was thinking about how I’ve done literally nothing to try to meet miss swift in my entire meaningless existence on this earth and I was thinking about how it doesn’t hurt to TRY so I was like hm. I’ll make a post!!! I didn’t but more on that later.

So i tell jess I’m gonna make a post and then in classic ariana fashion I just sit there on the train not making my post bc i was like deadass...I have nothing to say like nothing about me is particularly interesting it’s not like my house caught on fire and, in the absence of a fire hose, i used the soothing lyrics of stay beautiful from taylor swift’s debut album (2006) to will the flames into submission. like i just really love that woman i don’t have anything else TO SAY. omg side note i love how this started off with proper grammar and spelling and capitalization and now i’m talking like i don’t even know how to read. whatever. so then liz @lastskiss decides to get a fucking idk like a call from God Herself (stream god is a woman by ariana grande) and she’s like wow i should make ariana a post and i see her tweet and i’m life fuck it i’ve told her not to in the past but i’m tired and lazy and nothing’s gonna come of this anyway so i’ll let her make the post. so i text her my seat info and then i’m like “wow my work is done here i’m so talented for pressing send on the imessage app.”

so liz makes this post and is like “should i post it :O” and jess is like “yeah post it that dumb bitch is never gonna do anything herself” which...tea….and liz, being an intellectual in addition to being a magical wizard, is like “tea” and does it. Idk why this is a short novel already but i’m extremely bored at work and trying to get all the deets in. so this is at like i wanna say 1:45am EST aka everyone’s asleep except for liz in LA and jess in australia. so i reblog it once bc if you haven’t already grasped it i’m a lazy dumbass with low expectations and i go to sleep like “my work here is done.” so liz and jess and a few other beautiful souls by jesse mccartney reblog the post while i’m asleep, unbeknownst to me, and a few hours later at 8am i wake up and get ready for brunch. So i’m well aware that it’s gonna rain tonight so i’m like i should not put that much effort into my appearance bc i’m going to look like a drowned rat by the end of this day (stupid, but not untrue i really did) so i like actually do the bare minimum like i just basically put on whatever was most comfortable to dance around in the pouring rain in and then zoomed out the door for brunch bc it was in harlem at 12 and i was on long island at 9 so i was like g2g.

change of scenery now: i’m at brunch in harlem with a bunch of friends and soon to be friends and its 12:15 and i’m like “cool i’m with people from the internet so it’s not rood if i check twitter” and I do and i see a dm notification and i’m like oh the let me check. And check i did. And what the fuck was there??? 10 hours after liz hit send on that blessed post what was in my direct messages on the twitter for iphone app? That’s right friends and foes. It was a dm from one miss taylor nation. And what do i do???????????? I turn my phone face down on the table and my hands just start shaking and i’m pretty sure i blacked out as if i was having a petit mal seizure. So i come to, and pick my phone back up and send them my name, my number, and the best time for them to call (“you can call me at literally any time and i will pick up”) and i turn my phone face up on the table and stare at it. And stare. And stare…………...and an hour and a half (!!!) later FINALLY i get a call from miss nation. And i sprinted out of that restaurant. The poor waitress probably thought that denise @pettyswift had threatened to murder me with how fast i ran out of the premises. 10 mins later i return to the table and everyone’s staring at me with expectant gazes and i’m just like completely utterly non reactive like i think i was just in shock because i didn’t understand what was happening. Like i literally expected it to be merch lmaosafujkafn like so to get to speak to whoever that was on the phone and to hear her say the words “if all is fine and you get confirmed, you will be meeting taylor tonight” was jsut….a shock to the system to say the least. So i was still anticipating it to go wrong because like what the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK????? Anwyay. So i get the confirmation and i’m still completely nonreactive but i call my friend anthony @shakeitoffs to tell him (sidenote: i know we’re not supposed to tell anyone but like. I was going with him to the concert i had to. Like i was already under a lot of stress i’m sure everyone understands if i didn’t follow all the rules to a t) and i say goodbye to the table and i start making my journey from harlem to new jersey.

fast forward a few hours to ~4pm and literally the only thoughts in my brain are “what the fuck” “i’m so scared” and “can jess wake the fuck up” like idk why i was so concerned with jess waking up asjkfas like i just NEEDED HER TO WAKE UP. so anthony and i make our journey to metlife because i needed to be at will call between 4-5 to pick up my rep room pass. Anthony’s buzzing, i’m on the verge of throwing up, liz is freaking the fuck out, and jess still isn’t awake. And i get to will call and give them my ID fully expecting something to go wrong….and it does!!! The will call people are like “maam we havent gotten anything from taylor nation yet please check back in 20 mins.” cool. So finally at this point jess wakes up and is freaking out so now liz anthony and jess are all freaking out and i’m just terrified that something’s going to go wrong. FINALLY 15 mins later the will call people waved me back, i gave them my ID, and i received in my undeserving hands that yellow ass rep room paper. I nearly threw up. Bc at this point i had been like working under the assumption t hat something, ANYTHING, was going to go wrong like i half expected the uber to the stadium to spontaneously combust while i was in the car. So to have confirmation that i was supposed to be at a certain gate in less than 40 mins to then be brought backstage to meet taylor alison swift….was a lot. It’s still a lot.

So i take the picture and tweet it and everyone is being so nice and happy for me which only exacerbates the feeling of A Lotness bc i just felt so completely and utterly undeserving, but this isn’t me trying to get people to tell me i deserved it it’s just me being honest about how i felt. And on top of all of this, the fact that i had never in my life tried to meet taylor also meant that i had never in my life prepared to meet taylor. Of course i’ve thought about what i’d say, who hasn’t, but never under the actual assumption that i was meeting taylor. And NEVER with the confirmed knowledge that i was MEETING TAYLOR IN HALF AN HOUR. so, as aforementioned, IT WAS A LOT.

So skip to 5:30, the meeting time, and i’m standing on the floor where i’m supposed to be and waiting in line with like 6 other people waiting for taylor nation to take us backstage. And they start to!!! But then they get to me and ask for my name and i tell them and i’m NOT ON THE LIST JKANFKASJNFJ so im panicking once again like oh this is it. But i tell the tn guy that i got my dm at like 12 that day and i can show it to him and he was like “ohhhh i think i got a text about a late add” and looks through his texts and he’s like “yeah here you are.” which was terrifying like i was really a late ass add huh like someone was like add this girl huh. the.

So finally they bring us backstage.i think i must’ve been visibly distressed at this point bc one of the other fans in line came up to me and was like “you’re nervous too huh” like i’m pretty sure i looked like i was being taken to my execution. They stop us outside of the door and i can see scottifer swift and tree paine and andrea and i’m like “holy fuck this is actually happening.” And giuseppe the dancer walks past me and i’m like “holy fucking shit this is actually happening and also that man is so fucking hot.” they tell us to put all of our shit on the table, and i do (minus my yellow pass which i was still grasping as if it was going to be ripped out of my hands as cameramen crashed the scene like i was on punk’d and everyone including taylor was going to point and laugh at the fact that i actually for one second thought this was going to happen to me. Yes i’m dramatic what about it) and i enter the rep room. The snake habitat if you will. I enter a room and the first group goes in almost immediately and i hear taylor swfit’s speaking voice saying “hiiiiiiii” reverberate around the room and i’m like OH MY FUCKING GOD…….so like i said i was nervous and definitely visibly so. Like i’m pretty sure i was pacing. I was also singing along to lets get married by bleachers because i have morals, but i definitely looked scared. So the tn person in the room keeps offering to take polaroids of me next to all of the decorations ajkfjasnfkjnfa like she must’ve been trying to reassure me which i really appreciated.

The room is like a big dark well decorated room that has a well lit corner curtained off, which is where taylor and the photographer are and where the m&g takes place. So for my sanity i needed to like look into it so that my blood pressure could return and so that i didnt throw up on taylor the millisecond i walked into the glow of the ring light, so i casually walked to where the curtain area was and looked in between the two curtains where a sliver of bright ass light was escaping and i saw taylor in all her taylor swifitan glory with my own two unholy eyes and i was liek “well…..that did nothing to cure my stress” because she was just SO TALL AND BEAUTIFUL that i was just so fucking...idk. Idk i felt so nuts it was indescribable.

Lets get married stops playing and strawberries and cigarettes (i think?) starts and it’s my turn to go in. so i just like bite the bullet and do it and the first words that escape my stupid mouth are “holy fucking shit” and taylor laughed (i cant) and hugged me and she was just so. calm . well obviously shes calm shes meeting a known moron there’s nothing to be nervous abou there this was practically charity work for her like she’ll be able to use meeting me as a tax write off next year. Really i was doing her a service.

But anyway we pull back from the hug and she’s smiling at me and i’m pretty sure i was shaking a bit like my voice definitely was shaking. And i was just like “oh my god. I love you.” klasfjasnjkf like i was incapable of speaking at that point so i think she thought that i was just going to freeze up and not say a single word but before she could fill the awkward silence i just...started talking and did not shut upas fjkasnfjkajkf. Like i was like “oh my god hi i want you to know that i could not have anticipated this happening any less like i received the dm from taylor nation confirming this about 4 hours ago there was nothign to prepare me for this i didn’t even do anything my friend liz made a post and she and jess reblogged it at like 2 am last night none of this makes any sense” and she was like “oh my god that’s so nice of them” which TEA IT ABSOLUTELY WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And then she said “i’m so happy i finally get the chance to meet you then” which i’m sure she says to everyone but she’s so good at making you feel like she means it like she said that and it was like i had taken a xanax like i was so calm after that. Everyone says you calm down in her presence and i’ve never taken that seriously, but YOU REALLY DO….like shes just so calming she makes you feel like she’s your friend and that she genuinely wants to talk to you as if this is a casual occurrence.

So i say “i really love you like i have an older sister and she’s cool and all but you have always felt like you were my older sister like you’ve been a constant in my life for like a decade. I don’t even remember my life before i was obsessed with you which is probably indicative of a brain issue if i can’t remember my life before i was 11 but its true” and she LAUGHED and like genuinely laughed which made me feel so good. Like maybe she’s just the most talented actress alive but i really felt like she thought i was funny……..the………..and then as if i didnt get it from her laughing she called me funny which is disgusting. I’m doing my best to remember this conversation i like blacked out ajskfnsanf. I DIDNT EVEN TELL HER ANYTHING ABOUT MYSELF whcih is so funny to think about now and honestly im fine with bc my life is boring anyway. But anyway i had been debating requesting a song all day, but i was like fuck it the worst thing she can do is turn me down and call me stupid for asking. So i prefaced my request with: “taylor i know youre probably getting different requests from everyone you meet and i know you also probably alreayd have a song in mind for tonight which is totally fine it’s your concert you can do whatever you want my opinion doesn’t matter i’l love anything you do” and shes laughs and is like “whats the song” and i tell her forever and always. And shes like “OHHHHH oh my god i didnt even think of that song. i have a list of songs in my mind that i can play at each show and forever & always didn’t even cross my mind i dont know why. I’ll be honest i already have a song in mind for tonight i’m going to play fearless because it’s raining” and i was like “THATS SO GREAT i love that song it’s your concert it’s your show do whatever you want i love fearless fearless is my favorite album” and she was like “that’s such a good request i didn’t evne think about that song” and i started telling her how i love that song because it was like the song that really got me into her music bc i saw her talking about it on ellen and she literally interrupted me which was an honor and goes “OH MY GOD and it has the ‘it rains in your bedroom eveyrthing is wrong it rains when youre here and it rains when you’re gone’ line and its going to rain!!! oh my god that’s such a good song i love that song” and i said me too!! Also i’m her complimenting her own song god she’s so talented. She’s absolutely right it is SUCH a good song. And i said “well its raining again tomorrow and i’ll be there!!!” and she was like “but i was thinking about playing [song she didn’t play but i dont want to say--not to be purposefully evasive bc i know its annoying--but bc i dont want her to hate me for saying it publicly asjkfjkas and also bc if she does it at gillette i want to let it be a surprise :( i feel so annoying im sorry] tomorrow because a lot of people requested it” and i was like “I LOVE THAT SONG” and then said something about the song.

And then she said (again) that forever & always was a good request and then looked SO SORRY when she was like “i’m so sorry i’m probably not going to play that today or tomorrow because i already have songs in mind but i promise i’ll try to play it later even though you probably won’t be there :(” and i was like “NO ITS COMPLETELY FINE i loved all the songs you mentioned. I’d love any song that you played it’s your concert do whatever you want you don’t ever have to play it if you dont want to it’s your show you call the shots” and she was like “i love how you keep telling me i can do whatever i want it’s so thoughtful and supportive you’re so nice” LIKE SHE KEPT TELLING ME I WAS NICE THIS WHOLE TIME and i was like “WELL PEOPLE CAN BE DEMANDING” and she was like “YEAH THEY REALLY CAN BE THANK YOU FOR SAYING THAT THEY’LL GET MAD AT ME OVER ANYTHING they’ll get mad at me if i play a song they don’t like or if i dont play a song they like-” and i was like “i know they’ll get mad at you for excluding so it goes and i’m just like guys its her concert let her live” and she laughed again and called me nice again like she kept saying i’m nice which seems so inconsequential tkjajfnjsa but it was so kind of her shes the best.

So at this point we had been there for a long ass time like it felt long and i was like “wait fuck i haven’t even introduced myself to you” and she was like “whats your name” and i said ariana and she goes “wait like air-iana or like are-iana” and i was like “i literally dont care you can call me whatever you want and i’ll respond” and she like laughed AGAIN and was like “youll just respond to anything huh. But seriously what is it” and i said my name again she was like “ariana. Cool.” bye and then she was like “well do you want to take a picture?” which is when i realized how long it had been and i was like “YEAH” and she just pulled me into a hug for a hugging picture which felt cute bc thats what i wanted to do anyway but she was probably just like god this girl has been in here for 8 years im not asking her what pose she wants to do can we please get going with this jskfnajafs but i didnt mind i was on cloud 9. So as shes hugging me i’m like “oh my god i’m going to blink in this picture and then i’ll have to die” and she was like “you wont blink i promise you wont blink she (the photog) will check to make sure” so we take the pic, the photographer tells me i’m good, and then taylor hugs me again and was like “it’s so nice to meet you” and i was like “it’s so nice to meet you too i didnt expect any of this. thank you so much for all of this i love you” and she huggged me again and called me nice again and then we said bye.

And then the taylor nation girl who was taking my picture (who i then gave all of my polaroids and my rep room pass to for her to hold before i went int asjkfnsafj) was like “here you go sweetie” and gave it to me and then told me to go back out and wait in the hall. And like idk why but once i left the photo area it was like every overwhelming emotion i had felt that entire day came rushing out like i just started crying silently like w tears streaming down my face. Asjkfnaskfjafkj. Like i dont cry so it was so bizarre. I didnt know what was happening. So then i was the only one out there bc i guess the first group had already been escorted out, so i was waiting for the rest of the people to be done and just crying. And then andrea was there so i said hi while crying and she came up to me and was like “hi honey how was it?!?!?” and i was like sarcastically like “oh it was okay ive had better days” and i dont think she knew i was joking at first like her face fell a bit before she realized i cant breahjtraefjs btu she was like “yeah its just a normal saturday for you no big deal” and then i asked her for a picture and she complied of course and i was like “im so sorry for crying idk why im crying” and she was like “its okay sweetie youve been through a lot today” which is honestly the most truthful thing ive ever heard in my life. And then i said “i raelly have” and she was like “this is a really amazing experience for you” and once again no lies detected but it was so funny that she said that about me MEETING HER DAUGHTER JKjkjskafjkfjska. And then i thanked her for raising taylor because i love her or something i cant breahfghasf and she was like “it was my pleasure she made it easy on me” and then finally i was escorted out and i was just crying.

Okay so now i just wanted to tahnk everyone who has been nice to me since saturday it means so so much like obviously i didnt think people would be MEAN TO ME but everyone has been soooooo nice i appreciate it a lot. And also like mayb this is controversial 2 say in this economy but i also want to say that all of the taylor nation people were so nice to me like i think everyones a bit hard on them at times like theyre just doing their jobs guys and it doesnt seem like an easy job sajkfnkjas considering they have to deal with how annoying some of us can be. And also i want to thank all of my friends, jess and liz in particular, bc like i didnt do anything obviously akjfanjksfj like this was all them and i love them so much like they were so happy for me it was equally as exciting to tell them as it was to actually meet taylro idk i just love them so much. IDK WHY IM TREATING THIS LIKE AN OSCARS ACCEPTANCE SPEECH but i obviously obviously i want to thank @taylorswift Idk if you saw my post and requested to meet me or if it was just a coincidence but it was honestly such an amazing experinece and you were so GOOD at talking i cant describe it but you were so calming and i really appreciated it. I feel like we dont appreciate all u do for us enough like youre just so kind and amazing i love you taylor swift i aint never gona stop loving you taylor swift. Idk this was so amazing and so unexpected and i still dont understand how any of this happened to me. THIS WAS CRAZY and it was just everything like everything u hear about meeting taylor is just so true…..shes just so good shes such a good person i want 2 cry………………

if u read all of this…..idk why youd do that but thank you and also im sorry for how long it was i just needed to write it all down for my own memory. Thank youuuuuuuu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#this is so annoying im so sorry #i met taylor #what the fucknekdixsosk #save

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kyberled · 7 years ago

Note

☁ Have you ever forgiven a partner when you shouldn't have?

Salt Meme

As a matter of fact, I have, though thankfully it wasn’t in this fandom, but one I only recently trundled back to, and one from way back that I don’t think I’m ever going to be going back to for a number of reasons.

Oddly enough, this person from the very old fandom wasn’t even a part of the fandom I was in. It was a crossover type thing, and the first crossover I’d ever written. But there was a lot of vagueblogging on her part whenever I did anything they didn’t like. And by that, I mean the dash was flooded with posts saying that ‘this person’ didn’t ship things like they thought they did, TAGGED WITH OUR CHARACTERS, and going on to complain ON THE DASH to her mutuals that ‘some person’ (still tagged with our ship) was making their anxiety and depression worse. My crime? I didn’t have my muse kiss theirs within thirty in-reply minutes (tops; probably less) of them first meeting. I ended up fanmailing them saying it wasn’t that I didn’t ship them, it’s just that I wanted to take it slow, and after that they went back to acting like we were best friends while spamming my inbox with messages about their wedding.

I wish I was joking.

It’s also worth noting that I was a teenager, and the other person was, according to their rules page, in their twenties. This only happened one or two more times before I blocked them, but the more I thought about about it, the more I kind of wished I got out sooner, but at the same time, I’m just glad I got out at all.

The other person was in a bigger fandom, and they were writing with some other people I know and consider friends. They introduced themselves by messaging me right after they followed, saying, ‘Hi, I’m [person I’m still good friends with]’s friend! [They] recommended your blog to me, so I thought I’d say hi! My name’s [name]!” … Or something along that vein. Introduced themselves, added that they’d heard about me from a mutual friend, and that was the last normal conversation I had with them, outside of a few attempts at plotting.

This person would come into my IMs at odd hours and just complain to me. I didn’t even really know this person’s name, and they would just dump their life problems in the IMs. Like how their best friend was stressed in college, so they were not gonna contact her by their own choice, but now they were sad and missed her and anxious and yeah, I get that that sucks, but I was a complete stranger? And they’d go on and on and I could hardly get a word in edgewise. Whenever I did manage to say anything and try to comfort them or offer advice, they’d shut me down, give lists of reasons why my suggestions wouldn’t work, and go back to complaining at me. This happened literally all of the time, it was all they’d talk to me about. They also really liked hounding me about being agender, too? I’ll give an example of this in a bit.

I feel like I should clarify, here, that I enjoy helping my friends with their problems. I like being a shoulder to cry on. But the emphasis is on ‘my friends’. People I am comfortable with. I would also appreciate some warning? Even just a ‘hey, can I vent to you for a sec?’ at least lets me get in the right mindset to be able to deal with this sort of thing. I got no warning from this person. It’s also nice to talk about something else from time to time? But, no, it was just a constant stream of negativity from them. I’m being completely serious when I say I couldn’t make a single post on either of my blogs without them messaging me. It was actually kind of terrifying, to say the least. Had to start developing a routine based on when they were usually offline to avoid being harassed.

It didn’t take me too long to consider blocking them, because of the outpouring of negativity, but also because they kept dropping threads without telling me, then talking about how I was ignoring them, to me, and THEN requesting starters and completely ignoring ALL THREE OF THE STARTERS i’D JUST WRITTEN THEM, and THEN saying they were too lazy or kept forgetting to look the starters up? But I was the one who was ignoring them. The day I was first about to block them, they message me about how their friends are all blocking them. I briefly wonder if they’re a telepath. They say, after a very long rant, something along the lines of ‘but at least I have you, Jay. You’d never do that, you’re my best friend. I’m lucky to have you’. And on the one hand, I’m thinking, you know, what the hell, since when were we best friends? And I know that sounds mean, but I’d barely spoken to them, both because they never listened and because I was super uncomfortable talking to them; we barely interacted IC because they kept dropping threads and outright ignoring things I’d write for them; I never made an effort to contact them since the conversation was always focused solely on how bad their life was; We’d only been in contact for a month or two, tops, and it took about a year for Rodi and I (or my irl highschool best friend, Hannah, and I) to get to True BFF Level; Never once did they show any concern for me, or really anyone aside from themselves; Honestly, I’m kind of surprised they even knew my name. But I’m their best friend, apparently, and now of course I feel super guilty, because I was about to block them, and now I was the bad guy.

Oh, and to add on to all this, they forced headcanons on my muse. Once again, I feel like I need to clarify: I love people bouncing headcanons off me. If you think Braig would like XY thing, tell me; If you have an idea of a scenario for our muses together, send me it, I’d love to hear it. I’ll even reblog that ‘tell me your headcanons for my muse’ meme. I love it.

What this person did was different. This person, without asking, conferring with me, or even giving me any warning, they decided my muse was a child abuser. I don’t think I need to elaborate on why that was a bad thing. This went against my headcanons, contradicted canon at some points, and made no sense to me, but apparently my muse was now a child abuser. Eugh.

Oh, and before I give a brief run-down on what finally prompted me to block this person, I feel it’s worth mentioning that when we’d first started talking, I’d just turned eighteen, and they were twenty-one.

Anyway, so the straw that finally sucker-punched the camel in the jaw was when they messaged me after A Day. I was tired, hungry, had been in class all morning and in line at the campus book store for half an hour, and my arms were loaded down with textbooks. I was sort of struggling through tumblr for something to do, but typing was pretty hard. This person swings into my IMs and starts a suspiciously normal conversation - Actually asks me about school, what my major is, etc etc. I’m giving one-word replies for the most part, both because I’m not in the most social mood (and I’m not comfortable with this person to begin with), and because I don’t have the hands free to type long sentences anyway. But I’m starting to think that maybe, just maybe, this person has turned over a new leaf. Maybe I was right for giving them so many chances. And then, in the middle of the conversation, zero warning, they say:

“Are you out to your family, yet?”

And I’m just stunned. I had no idea how to respond. After a minute or more of me just staring, not answering, they add, ‘can I ask that?’, and I had no idea what to say in return aside from something like ‘no, I’m not, and I don’t know if I ever will be’, hoping to end the conversation. This person then starts complaining at me for not being out, because they wanted help with getting their family to remember their pronouns. I offered some suggestions anyways, those were all ignored, and out came more rants about how terrible their life was.

I blocked them not long after, after speaking to two close friends who agreed that I probably should’ve done so earlier.

So, yeah, those are the two instances that come to mind. I’m a bit more careful with who I chill with, now, and I’ve learned to be pretty blunt when shutting this stuff down, so it hasn’t happened since. \o/

#storygiver #&& give the sun a head start; ooc #&& as best i can; answers

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meggannn · 8 years ago

Text

concrit, and notes for the self

So this is a bit of a weird post I've been wondering how to articulate for a while. I know people have different ideas on fandom courtesy in this regard, and opinions on this topic can be heavily divided.

This is my post to get it out there and say I don't mind, and in fact encrouage, people giving me concrit in my fic in AO3 comments or reblogs. Everyone is different and everyone writes fic for different reasons; some people write for fun and don't care about improving. I totally respect that and that's why I don't offer concrit unless someone specifically asks for it. I'm writing for fun, but I also take my writing seriously, maybe more seriously than I should, so if you've ever read my fic and thought "hm, that bit's not great," please consider this an open invitation to give me all the constructive feedback you want. I try to say I welcome it consistently in my notes when I post fic, but I guess people don't really register that. In fairness, I've seen people say they welcome opinions on their fic and then turn haughty and defensive when someone gives any feedback that isn't praise, but I've always respected writers who freely share the negative concrit they receive (so long as it’s not a troll) because as a reader, it also encourages me to read and interact more with them. If you don't feel comfortable sharing it publicly or want to talk about a certain thing at length, you can always feel free to IM me privately here, or leave the comment on anon on AO3.

This is a weird thing to post on Tumblr, since I don't think I have a big writer presence here, but AO3 doesn't really have a good platform to share this kind of message. And I realize this is a bizarre thing to want to post about -- if I'm not receiving any concrit, like, shouldn't that be a good thing? am I really complaining I'm not receiving any? -- but the few times I have received concrit in the last five years, one was from a friend who knows me well enough to know I welcome it, and the other two were strangers who seemed hesitant to bring it up at all, that made me wonder if they were scared of my reaction so they sandwiched it between complements to soften the blow. I don’t want people to worry about my reaction and apologize for giving negative feedback. I’m always down to talk about ways I can get better. Chances are more likely I’ll probably apologize to you, lol.

Not to say people should look for things to criticize if they think there aren't any -- I'd be flattered -- but I don’t want people thinking giving me concrit will make me resent them, or that bad feelings will fester if we’re mutuals. I promise there isn't anything mean enough you can say about my work I haven't already said to myself. (Though I will say, I'm writing this with the implication people will be reviewing recent or future works judging my talent as a writer now, not dig into my '09-'13 fic history back when I didn't know the word for ellipses and criticize me how I was.)

I have a weird history with concrit (it all started with a flame war back in ‘10...), but now I take the smallest comments from both positive and negative feedback so seriously to the point it does affect how I look at my future works, possibly because most of the feedback fic writers -- including myself -- do receive is just a single bookmark or anonymous kudos with no words attached. Sometimes when I think of people hating my stuff it makes me never want to share anything again, but a large majority of the time when I do receive it, I find that I have a thicker skin than I thought and I'm very easily able to separate the work from my personal feelings. Again: there's nothing anybody can say will be as bad as what I've already told myself, lol.

I'm putting the rest of this behind a cut because it's somewhat related, but it's mostly me blabbing about ways I think I can improve. I've been trying to narrow it down to a few specific areas I want to get better in. Some are going to be on me and only on me to make happen, but I feel like others might better spotted by readers.

This is about to get very mopey and self-indulgent, so if anyone actually reads this bear with me.

Vocabulary. It’s not that I think I have a limited vocabulary, but I think my tendency is to rely on the same words or phrases, which... just feels lazy and fake after a while. @thunderheadfred suggested I don’t try to hard with this one, because trying too hard to include big words can often lend to a convoluted mess, but I think the solution to my problem might just be “read more” and “get creative with how words interact with each other.” Part of this is also just learning relevant jargon or legalese or whatnot and getting familiar with it to the point that I finally don’t feel like I’m playing Mad Libs when I’m talking about something I don’t understand.

General... logic editing. I'm not sure how to describe this one, but I've had moments occasionally while rereading fic where I just think, “Life doesn’t work like that,” or “Megan, you pulled that one completely out of your ass.” You ever just read a fic and think “Goddammit, this makes no sense,” or even with smaller things, just “that’s not how that works”? Some of them are going to be things only specialists will know, which is okay because at that point I feel like learning to get it right is more a bonus than an obligation especially if it’s not plot relevant, but I generally want to make everything as accurate and realistic as possible to the point that the story unfolding in the reader’s head matches the film I’m imagining in mine. Most of the time, I can bullshit my way through stuff I don’t know, but bullshitting also takes talent, which... well. The thing about talent is that you need to have it or develop it, it’s not always something someone can help you with. But still, it’s a bit of a weird problem to articulate when the crux of it comes down to me saing like an idiot, “Uh, I don’t know how things work.” I kinda vaguely know how governments work. My knowledge of science and technology and math is in the negatives. And I don’t have a goddamn clue how the military works, which is a great joke on me for falling in love with a character like Shepard and wanting to write a million fics about them. So, just, part of this is research, but oftentimes research is only half the problem. The other half of the problem is sitting down at my keyboard and thinking “Great, now how am I going to write it?” because more often than not what happens is that the information I just read off Wikipedia or an obscure informative website just collects dust in my brain. I’m trying to be patient with myself about this kind of thing, because on some level I realize I’m pretty damn young and sometimes you just learn things by! going through life! But I am also an impatient ravenclaw motherfucker who wants to be a good writer Right Now. I want to know how things work and how they affect the people around them! I want to be able to make my story and understanding of the world as accurate as possible! I want people to go “yes, this makes absolute sense” not just “oh, that sounds kinda right I guess?” One thing I try to remind myself is, when I think a small thing sounds wrong or try-hard or that that thing doesn’t quite sound right for whatever reason, most of the time, the reader has no idea. The reader might be skimming over it, they may be digesting it without any sense that something is wrong about it whatsoever, hell they might even like it. I mean, if you asked me to read a friend’s fic and point out an error, I’d have to pull out a magnifying glass to find one, and they’d probably be able to recite a laundry list’s worth within five seconds. So there’s that.

Environmental building. I feel like I'm improving on this simply because I've finally started acknowledging where characters are even located in a place at all, lmfao. I'd like to upgrade to "being so good at describing locations and environments that someone other than me can ‘see’ where they are," but atm I'm settling for, "remember to at least TRY to transcribe the physical locale I see in my mind, because half of the time you forget to do even that, dumbass."

Characterization. This is a big one because it affects so much else, namely, the course of the entire fic. I say this all the time to reviewers but I mean it. A fair amount of time I can type on autopilot and it’s like the characters are doing all the work for me, but other times I sit for an hour scratching my head saying “Jesus, what would Varric say in this situation?” and then I realize “Maybe Varric wouldn’t even let himself get into this situation in the first place,” and that starts a whole chain of doubt and thinking about rewriting and actual rewriting while wondering if the rewriting is even necessary. I've recently been able to put my most consistent problem to words, and that's that I will always have staple issues with the POV characters. The nature of my style means that I spend a lot of time in the POV's head, which sometimes means less energy is spent developing their actual actions. E.g., say I write a fic with Shepard as the POV. If Garrus is in the fic, he is absolutely going to be the snarky, confident, more proactive version of himself to make up for all of the angst and moaning I will inevitably write as a result of digging into Shepard's mind. But say I write the same fic with Garrus as the POV. Depending on the time setting, I will be so caught up in his head as he worries about his mom dying and his guilt over losing his team and his place in the Hierarchy or if his dad will ever forgive him or his insecurities over his relationship with Shepard, that Shepard-the-deuteragonist will have to be the talkative, confident marine to draw him out of his own head. And again, imagine this is, like, the same story -- the same story written from a different perspective shouldn’t go a different way! In this example, some of the gap can be excused with the fact that by necessity, the POV has them viewing each other. Garrus and Shepard know each other well enough to know each other's bravado and strength can be a facade for their seriously fucked up emotional issues, so it's not that they imagine the other never has these moments of darker reflection that they do. And the same thing about Varric and Hawke or Hawke and Fenris, etc etc. Depending on how you play them, they could also be looking at each other through rose-colored glasses, or be so used to accepting and supporting the other through their private uncertainties that for the sake of the fic, that what they mostly register in the other is just the best or most confident side of the other's behavior. Narratively, I've realized it might come out of a subliminal urge to balance one's introspective side with the other's more proactive side, which may work sometimes (if they're both serving aggressive roles in the story, for me, the fic might get too 'loud'; if they're both too quiet, it'll just get boring), but most times I feel like it doesn't do justice to the "loud" parts of the POV character, since they are always the one who gets caught in paragraphs on paragraphs of angsty introspection in their own head due to my inability to write anything else. Shepard and Garrus are undeniably “loud” characters no matter how you slice it. Shepard may mope and pine and nearly drown in her depression in her private moments, but she's also a marine, and she’s proactive and brave and assertive. So I'm trying to be hyperaware of when I lose those facets of her personality through the trees when I try to capture the forest that is her darker side. And I would be wholly welcome to anybody who has comments on that type of thing in the future, if I write a character that isn't acting like themself.

This got a lot longer than I thought it would so now I’m not sure how to end it. I think I’m just going to sit in silence for a moment then heat up some soup. Hmm.

ETA: I would be ashamed if I didn’t mention @tetrahedrals, who consistently provides me wonderfully helpful feedback on my ME fic, and none of whose fault this is. All remaining errors in my fic after they’ve been beta’d and workshopped are entirely mine, but she’s helped me a lot to ensure there are far fewer than there might have been. xo

#writing notes

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fromthedeskoftheminister · 8 years ago

Text

Rise of a Region

Summary: A Friendly between three Quidditch teams becomes all the more interesting when a mysterious spectator joins the games.

Tags: Mysterious disappearances mentioned, suspected death mentioned, Whitebeard Pirates, Straw Hat Pirates, Revolutionaries, Quidditch AU, College AU, Modern World AU, Gen Fic, mild cursing, Entirely UnBetaed

AN: It is a time when tumblr is dead and Ive been sitting on this ficlit for a while. US Quidditch Cup 10 starts this weekend and Im going to be watching, so I figure its probably a decent time to post this. I’ll reblog it again before games start in the morning, but I want to post before I forget. Before I begin, Yes, Muggle Quidditch is a thing. Yes it is international. Australia won last year’s world cup. Yes, Brooms are used. Yes it is a full contact sport. No, we do not fly. The Snitch is a tennis ball in a sock velcroed to a neutral 3rd parties rear. It is only worth 30 points. Catching it, separating the sock from the person, ends the game. And I think thats all. If you have any sort of question about the story or quidditch, my inbox is open

Rise of A Region

The field was a nice one, Marco absently thought as he surveyed the grounds from his vantage point on the hill just behind the soccer goalposts. Turf field, regulation size brooms, plenty of extra balls and a set of what looked like a set Peterson hoops were set up on one half of the soccer field he was overlooking. Random joyous yelling drifted up to him as people greeted each other and he let the sounds wash over him. He was going to sit here and enjoy the sunshine in peace and relative quiet before the rest of the team arrived and he had to go manage things, make introductions and generally figure out the plan of action.

The spring sun was bright, warming the day to a rather comfortable temperature that was just shy of being too hot. It was negated by a very gentle breeze pushing the barest wisp of a cloud lazily across the brilliant blue sky. Marco set his hands behind him and returned his lazy gaze to the people on the field below. They had just started to set up their equipment and Marco checked the time. He had an hour or so before the friendlies were supposed to start but if he knew his team, it would in reality be more like 2. So what was he going to do to pass the time? Marco was half temped to copy the guy he had spotted while searching for a dry spot to sit and just take a nap.

While it sounded nice in theory, he knew it would be a bad idea. He wanted to be at his best for these matches. Their region was new as were the two teams that had invited them here today, but they had already gained something of a rep. Frankly, Marco decided, readjusting how he was sitting to see the field a bit more clearly he would be better served watching their practice and warm up in an attempt to figure out the team’s strengths and weaknesses.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he was watching for before the squishing sound of a canvas shoe stepping into a particularly viscous muddy patch alerted him to the fact that he had company. The arm that draped itself over his shoulder accompanied by a rather ridiculous red pompadour alerted him to the fact that Thatch had finally woken up and realized that they had arrived at their location. Due to their prolonged friendship he was probably one of the only people that would take such liberties. They watched in silence as the group of people below, which had only grown in size since Marco had started watching, completed a rather complex scoring drill.

“You’ve got maybe 5 minutes before the rest of the group starts arriving. ” he said with a yawn.

Marco raised an eyebrow at that. “You mean they’re actually going to be on time today?”

Thatch managed to look offended “Hey! We totally get places on time!”

Marco snorted, clearly amused. “Only because I’ve been purposely telling the group the wrong start time of tournaments for at least a year or so. Today’s the first time since that disaster that was our first tournament that I didn’t.”

Thatch gaped at him then rolled his eyes. “Of course you have. I can’t believe I forgot how devious you can be.”

“So, how late?” Marco chuckled.

Thatch grinned as well. “Last car should be here in 30 minutes at the latest.”

“Right.” Marco said shrugging Thatch’s arm from his shoulders as he smoothly rose from his seat. “I should probably go let them know then. And introduce myself while I’m at it. I don’t think I’ve actually ever met Sabo in person.” He turned to offer Thatch a hand up, but his friend had already hoisted himself to his feet.

“Might want to hold up a second. I see Haruta’s car.” Thatch said and Marco nodded in acquiescence. They didn’t have to wait long. The car had scarcely come to a stop before Haruta tumbled out full of their usual boundless energy and scampered over.

“Hey guys!” They cried out cheerfully as they attempted to scramble up Thatch’s back, clearly attempting to get a piggyback. “Where are the others?”

“Not here yet.” Thatch said

“Whoohoo!” Haruta yelled “Its not us who’s last this time!”

“Impossible things have been known to happen.” Marco said dryly as Jiru, Izou, and Jozu joined them on the hill. Haruta made a face when they caught the teasing tone directed their way.

“Yeah yeah. Get lost one time…” They grumbled good-naturedly and Thatch snorted from beneath them as they settled themselves on his back.

“Once? Try like ten or fifteen and then you might, just might be in the ball park” Marco teased.

Haruta stuck out their tongue in response before exclaiming, “Lets go!” Apparently spurred on by the other’s enthusiasm, Thatch took off down the hill like a shot with Haruta whooping like a maniac on his back. Jiru, the only certified EMT of their group took off a second later yelling semi-jokingly at the pair that they’d better not hurt themselves. Marco rolled his eyes at the antics of his teammates before heading down towards the pitch himself at a much more sedate pace.

Izou matched his stride and after a moment inquired “So?”

Marco shrugged. He knew exactly what the other was asking. “Not sure yet. I’ve heard that The Strawhats have a stronger chaser lineup with fast breaks while the Revolutionaries tend to favor gaining bludger control and taking their time. We should be able to beat them with ease but seeing as the two teams have been practicing together the entire time, I don’t exactly know who’s on which team. This would also be a bit easier if I actually knew what Sabo looked like as well.”

“You still don’t know?” Izou asked incredulously.

Marco simply shrugged. How was he supposed to know what the other man looked like? He wasn’t on Facebook all that much and Sabo’s profile picture there was simply an icon of a Tophat. The other captain had emailed him instead of using a chat feature and in doing the set up for this friendly they simply had never gotten around to meeting one another face to face.

“Ah, I can help with that.” A new voice said cutting into the conversation. The source was somewhere near their feet and Marco looked down to meet a pair of curious silver eyes peering up at him from underneath a vibrantly orange cowboy hat.

“Really?” Izou asked, sounding skeptical. Despite the warmth of the day, the other man was bundled up rather seriously.

“Yeah. You said you were looking for Sabo right?” The stranger said as they pulled themselves to their feet. He adjusted his hat to get a better view of the field revealing a face full of freckles atop a deep tan. Without bothering to wait for an answer the other man continued. “Ah, found him. He’s the blonde one over there,” the stranger said making a vague gesture as he stooped down to grab a green zebra stripped bag with a rather intricately designed spade over one pocket.

“Well, that’s not terribly helpful,” Marco said, glancing in the direction that the stranger had gestured to before turning back to the other man. “There are currently several blonds ‘over there.’ Can you be a bit more specific?”

“Sure.” The stranger said. “He’s the only blond with facial scars. Here, why don’t I just introduce you?

Marco shrugged then offered out a hand. “Sounds good to me. I’m Marco by the way.”

“Izou.” Izou offered with a wave of his hand. The creased brow between his friend’s eyebrows was rather telling. It meant that Izou was trying to remember something, though at the moment it probably came off as unfriendly. It didn’t seem to bother the cheerful stranger who returned the introductions with a smirk.

“Nice t’ meetcha. I’m Ace.” Ace said shaking Marco’s hand before the trio resumed their walk to the pitch. “Who do you play for?”

“Eh? Oh, the Whitebeards.”

Ace looked rather impressed by that statement. “For real? That’s the shit man. Thought you guys weren’t a part of this region though?”

“We are now.” Marco said with a smile. “With the Strawhats and the Revolutionaries joining up, the board finally decided there were enough teams in the area to qualify for a region of our own.”

“Sweet.” Ace said. “Though I hope you don’t think you guys’ll be able to just walk all over these two teams, Mr. Quidditch World Cup Champions.”

Marco simply shrugged and Ace laughed loudly, drawing stares from all over the pitch with rather amusing effects as a couple of people suddenly became recipients of bludgers to the face. Another person, apparently startled by the laughter threw a quaffle a little too high and it sailed over the edge of the passing circle headed right towards them. Ace snatched it out of the air and had returned the pass to another person in the circle. That seemed to break whatever spell had come over the majority of the players except for two people in particular. A small tan lanky boy wearing a strawhat exchanged some sort of look with a blond young man with a series of scars scattered over his left side, the most prominent one over his left eye. Ace gave a small wave and apparently that was all that was needed to cause the pair to run towards them, no at Ace, full tilt.

Ace’s eyes widened and he quickly took the bag off of his shoulder and held it out to Marco who looked at him with undisguised curiosity. “Can you do me a favor and hold this?” Ace asked, the words coming out in a rush.

“Sure.” Marco had scarcely taken the bag before Ace continued

“You might also want to take a couple of steps to the side.”

“Why?” Marco asked but the question was rendered moot as the answer came barreling past as twin blond and black blurs tackled Ace bringing him down with a lot of noise. Marco turned to Izou who was still standing beside him. “Are you as confused as I am?”

“Yes.” Izou said. “Though I finally figured out why the kid seems familiar.”

“Oh?”

“That’s Ace.”

“Im aware that’s Ace. He told us his name Izou.”

“I wasn’t done thank you. That’s Ace of Spades.”

Marco blinked. “As in the Merc team that made it to the final four of the Quidditch World Cup Championships 3 years ago? The team that was rumored to be able to give us a run for our money but ended up withdrawing due to injuries?”

“Exactly.” Izou said. “I wonder what he’s doing here. I thought all of the Spades had retired from Quidditch after that.”

“Most of us did. The Spades as a Quidditch team no longer exists.” Ace said rejoining the pair, arms over the shoulders of the two people who had just tackled him. Strangely enough, the younger of the two the kid with the straw hat had tears running down his face while beaming like Christmas had come early. The blond under Ace’s other arm didn’t have any tears but had a rather similar smile on his face. Marco’s curiosity was driving him crazy but he pushed it away. He didn’t know any of these people well enough to ask about the strange series of events he had just witnessed. “And to answer your question, Im just here to visit these weirdo and play some Quidditch. Sabo, Luffy, meet Marco and Izou of the Whitebeards.”

“Nice to finally put a faces to the names.” Marco commented, hands in his pockets.

“Indeed.” Sabo said, ducking out of Ace’s hold. “Ya ready to get these games started?”

Marco looked around, and his eyes lit upon a familiar group of people that were just standing atop the hill he and Izou had just walked down. “Seeing as the rest of my team just arrived, I’ll have to say yes.”

“Great.” Sabo said. “Lets get this show on the road then.”

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bioniiic · 8 years ago

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all of the asks

1: Full nameidk man. not too fond w putting my full name on the tumbsz but wassup im sam2: Age163: 3 Fearsflyingthe darkmen4: 3 things I lovemy gfmy friendsmy DOG5: 4 turns on good smellgood,,asshumorgirl6: 4 turns offBAD SMELLTHATS IT ALSO MEN7: My best friendhek sarah and josefine. also lys8: Sexual orientationpansexual ???? idk mostly i just like girls 9: My best first datedo nothing. eat and watch shows and nap10: How tall am I6'4 i know11: What do I misshek :/(12: What time were I born12:15 am I was almost a march 9th kiddo13: Favourite coloryello 14: Do I have a crushyes my gf my love 15: Favourite quotedie16: Favourite placecopenhagen and paris. both very different cities and equally important 2 me17: Favourite foodTARTLET 18: Do I use sarcasmall. the time 19: What am I listening to right nowthis old dog by mac demarco ok20: First thing I notice in new personidk if theyre funny i think21: Shoe size 7 !!! small22: Eye colorone is green n one is brown 23: Hair colorcurrently very black 24: Favourite style of clothingblack jeans and some sort of fuckin hoodie im boring 25: Ever done a prank call?i used to do them all the time w my friends in the choir HDKVNSMCN yes i was in a choir but only for the cake 27: Meaning behind my URLidk its a placebo song fskkcsjskdks28: Favourite moviemr nobody leave me alone 29: Favourite songSCSRED OF GIRLS BY PLACEBO FUCK ME30: Favourite bandPLACEBOSJDKSKKD31: How I feel right nowim tired and i want lys to wake up 32: Someone I lovelys my beeeeb33: My current relationship statusim dating my BEAUTIFUL angel gf 34: My relationship with my parentshmmmm. below average 35: Favourite holidayCHRISTMAS 36: Tattoos and piercing i havenoone 37: Tattoos and piercing i wanti want a septum piercing and all the tattoos38: The reason I joined Tumblri had a crush on a girl and i was obsessed with her and she had tumblr so i got tumblr and only reblogged things she liked and she never noticed me JDKSJDJSK39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?NO we just don't talk 40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?lys41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?its lys i wish i had :-(42: When did I last hold hands?it was with josefines girlfriend while she was tweezing her eyebrows and she needed to hold my hand for support 43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?like. 5 seconds 44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?HAHAHA NO45: Where am I right now?in my bed 46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?idk i dont drink that much but probably josefine47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?reasonable in like. headphones but anywhere else it's LOUD48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?no. well like. every 2 weeks i shift between them #divorce am i right ladiez 49: Am I excited for anything?summer 50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?my DOG 51: How often do I wear a fake smile?a lot ha ha ha 52: When was the last time I hugged someone?my adult friend yesterday JSJSJK53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?the last person i kissed was my friend ,,,and she has a gf so id probably say can yall like do that somewhere else JDJAHSH54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?no i only trust a few very good people 55: What is something I disliked about today?i just woke up. also that56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?lys :-(57: What do I think about most?lys LoL 58: What’s my strangest talent?idk ???? 59: Do I have any strange phobias?PUKE60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?behind 61: What was the last lie I told?"im gonna wake up soon" lol62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?video 63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?both are real and valid 64: Do I believe in magic?no hoe65: Do I believe in luck?no. hoe66: What’s the weather like right now?grey67: What was the last book I’ve read?sushi for beginners haha68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?nnO69: Do I have any nicknames?sammy but only lys gets to call me that also hek calls me sami I do not know why 70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?i broke my tailbone once that was pretty bad71: Do I spend money or save it?SAVE IT IM SO BAD AT SOENDING MONEY72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge?noooooo ma'am 73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me?a marker 74: Favourite animal?dogggggggGGGGG75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?talking to lys but then she disappeared for 3 hours and im mad76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?roberts77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?you had me at hello GAYYSYYAYSY78: How can you win my heart?be lys. also food 79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?gay 80: What is my favorite word?gay81: My top 5 blogs on tumblrgay82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?gay83: Do I have any relatives in jail?i dont think so ???84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?FLYING. TELEPORTING 85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?idk mannn86: What is my current desktop picture?the default one cause im lazy and its a school computer 87: Had sex?NOO 88: Bought condoms?no 89: Gotten pregnant?no90: Failed a class?noooOoo maam 91: Kissed a boy?nooooOOOO MAAM 92: Kissed a girl?yes,93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?no94: Had job?nonoooo MAAM 95: Left the house without my wallet?yes96: Bullied someone on the internet?HAHHAHAA97: Had sex in public?no98: Played on a sports team?yes but like. not really 99: Smoked weed?NOO MAAM 100: Did drugs?no101: Smoked cigarettes?noooo102: Drank alcohol?yes 103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?fuck NO104: Been overweight?yes105: Been underweight?no 106: Been to a wedding?yes 107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?LOL108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?LOL109: Been outside my home country?yes 110: Gotten my heart broken?yes oopsie111: Been to a professional sports game?yes but at half time me and my dad left and got mcdonalds and then we went home112: Broken a bone? yes 113: Cut myself?no more 114: Been to prom?no im foreign 115: Been in airplane?yes116: Fly by helicopter?i haven't but i NEVER WILL. NEVER 117: What concerts have I been to?one direction, the 1975, gerard way, the front bottoms and twenty one pilots 118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?yes. exclusively 119: Learned another language?yes120: Wore make up?yes no h0mo bro121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?no122: Had oral sex?nnnno123: Dyed my hair?yes its dead now 124: Voted in a presidential election?noooo maam im still foreign 125: Rode in an ambulance?no126: Had a surgery?im so boring ive never tried anything 127: Met someone famous?no i was rlly close to meeting bry after twenty one pilots once but NAH128: Stalked someone on a social network?always129: Peed outside?mo 130: Been fishing?fuck no 131: Helped with charity?yes132: Been rejected by a crush?well. kinda133: Broken a mirror?no134: What do I want for birthday?idk i just had my birthday man 135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?IF. I HAD A KID. IF. it would be a girl and her name would be leah 136: Was I named after anyone?no137: Do I like my handwriting?fuck no its so bad138: What was my favourite toy as a child?probably that doll that pisses by itself. u know what im talking about 139: Favourite Tv Show?idk oh fuck probably new girl 140: Where do I want to live when older?copenhagen or the us for a bit 141: Play any musical instrument?guitar ukulele and bass cause im basic142: One of my scars, how did I get it?my dog scratches me a lot 143: Favourite pizza toping?ham. cheese144: Am I afraid of the dark?y e s 145: Am I afraid of heights?Y E S146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?yes but i wasn't sneaking out really,,147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?every day hoe !148: What I’m really bad atlife 149: What my greatest achievments arefuck idk150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to methat i was a trump supporter. u know who u are 151: What I’d do if I won in a lotterylive on a bigass farm and have all the animals 152: What do I like about myselfmy eyes ?? my cheekbones 153: My closest Tumblr friendnone i hate yall 154: Something I fantasise about😉😉😉😉😉😉

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andyhollows · 8 years ago

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these are actually hella fucking cute y'all

I liked this questionnaire thing a while back ago and decided to finally answers these 100 questions. I’m making a different post than reblogging it with the answers so you’ll be able to see which answers are mine. Link for if you wish to read/take it yourself. :)

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

I tend to have more milk than cereal even though I fill up my bowls to the top with cereal. XD 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

I live in Florida so the coldest it gets is usually around 50-60 during the days and 20-30 at night, if we’re lucky. But, yes, I do, very much so. 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

I don’t read books, but back when I was in middle/high school, I used to just fold the edge of the book and using a pencil, put a dash where i last left off, or being an artist, I would create my own little bookmarks using a normal piece of paper. 4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

I don’t drink coffee/tea, I probably drink cappuccino and that’s only from WaWa’s when it’s cold enough and I usually put cream and like 2-4 packets of sugar in it. 5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

Only when I haven’t brushed or recently ate something like lasagna or some sort of pasta. 6: do you keep plants?

No 7: do you name your plants?

If i don’t even own a plant, why would i name it? 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

I usually just draw/sketch with a pencil 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Yeah, I tend to just lip sing to whatever music I’m listening to. 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

Yes lol I tend to toss and turn but I almost always end up on my back. 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends?

I don’t really have any inner jokes i can think of at the top of my head. 12: what's your favorite planet?

Pluto, i don’t know why. 13: what's something that made you smile today?

I saw another post in my “likes” and I looked at the original post it came from and it came from Game Grumps and that made me laugh so hard. 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

Nice, for sure. It would probably just be all the walls would be white or some sort of light color and our furniture would be pretty modern and solid colors. We tend to have the same taste so it wouldn’t clash together. 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

“All of space is completely silent...” 16: what's your favorite pasta dish?

Either Chicken Al’ Fredo or Spaghetti. 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Blue or Red would be pretty cool and i think i could pull it off 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

I don’t have any with friends, but with my family: i was like 14 years old and roleplaying with my current boyfriend, Jonathan, my brother and Ashley and my character was suppose to get pregnant but i didn't know how a pregnancy test was taken so i said i put it in my mouth and it came out positive and i came out of the restroom saying I'm pregnant and EVERYONE laughed! 12 years later, they haven’t let me live it down. 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I don’t have a journal but i have a ton of sketch books and they usually contain chibis or my OCs, myself, my best friend or my game characters and unfinished doodles. 20: what's your favorite eye color?

Green 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

I don’t have a favorite bag, i’m not really the type to hold onto something like that, but my favorite bag right now is either my Domo backpack or my nightmare before christmas one. 22: are you a morning person?

No 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Sleep, watch TV/youtube videos and play video games 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Yes, my best friend, you know who you are :P 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into?

I’ve never broken into anything, unless you count just walking into unfinished houses in my neighborhood. 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

My flats are the shoes I’ve had forever but I don’t wear them anymore, instead i now mostly wear my sandals, only cause im lazy to put on socks and sneakers. 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor?

watermelon! 28: sunrise or sunset?

sunset, i feel sunrise will just start blinding me if i keep starring at it XD 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

When they’re totally dorking out over some comic book or some movie lol 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Yes 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

Socks are alright. I usually stick to wearing solid color socks. I don’t sleep with socks cause when i do, because i toss and turn my socks slip off and it’s annoying. I own some white socks but i prefer colored ones. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

3AM... with friends? Uhhh... since most of my friends are online, i don’t really do much, cept talk about whatever unless we’re drunk 33: what's your fave pastry?

Any sort of cake! 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

I don’t have any stuffed animals i’ve had since i was a kid, most of them were given on my birthday or as a congratulations. The one i’ve had the longest is this cute little ghost i named Spooky and i got her on my birthday and i still have it. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I do like stationary stuff and pens, i always want all the pens, pencils, markers, highlighters, stickynotes, everything even if i don’t have a use for em. 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now?

I don’t know... probably some disney song LOL 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

i don’t LIKE keeping my room a mess, im just fucking lazy 38: tell us about your pet peeves!

when they happen, i’ll let you know, i can’t think of any at the top of my head. 39: what color do you wear the most?

black 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you?

i don’t wear jewelry, cept earrings and the ones i own are gifts from Christmas so don’t really have a story. 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving?

i don’t read books :D i only read manga XD but if that counts, Horimiya 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

Again, i don’t drink coffee so i don’t know of any coffee shops. 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

My family....? like a decade ago lol we were mostly trying to look at the meteor shower 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

uhhh.... umm... >.> geez.. that’s tough, had to have been before becoming a teenager! 45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

yes, they have yet to let me down. 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

i don’t know any puns, i’m not a punny person! and no im not trying to be funny 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

i don’t know XD im picky but i’m not like totally disguested with a type of food... maybe oysters? 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

my biggest fear as a kid was pretty much the “monster under my bed” thing, i never liked leaving my foot hanging off the side of my bed, i always ran and jumped onto my bed after turning off the lights, etc. to this day, no that fear is gone, now it’s bugs XD 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

i never bought a CD/record in my life, i usually just had a friend or my mom burn me one 50: what's an odd thing you collect?

i don’t really collect anything specific, i do tend to want anything that’s related to black butler or the nightmare before christmas or doctor who 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

“Why I Cry” by NSP only because they got me into it XD 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

i don’t like memes 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

out of all of them, i’ve only watched beetlejuice, i’ve heard OF the rocky horror picture show, never heard of heathers or pulp fiction and beetlejuice was just weird.

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

my nephew XD 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point?

I don’t know/can’t remember 56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

i don’t know, not often i pay attention to people 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

every time i listen to bohemiam rhapsody i remember the flash video my brother created XD 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

i think my friend Ricky is the wine mom, mostly cause he’s the only one i know that drinks wine and gets drunk when drinks too much and the vodka aunt has to be my friend Elliot because almost every time i talk to him, he’s drunk 59: what's your favorite myth?

i don’t know, idk a lot of myths 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

i don’t really like poetry so i don’t have a favorite 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received?

i try to think out my gifts carefully, but the stupidest gifts i’ve received was this last christmas, when i got 5 slippers from my family because of something i said xD 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

i don’t drink juice at all >.> and i probably should 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

with my music, i tend to organize them by artist, any new song i get from an artist i already have in my library has to be within that same bunch 64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

dark blue/black, it’s night 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with?

YES, MY BEST FRIEND!!! 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

a bunch of black roses? >.> 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

amazing!!! 68: what's winter like where you live?

non-existent 69: what are your favorite board games?

Anything that’s fun and makes my family do weird things 70: have you ever used a ouija board?

Nope but i am curious about using one 71: what's your favorite kind of tea?

sweet and citrusy i suppose? i dont drink tea 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?

absolutely! 73: what are some of your worst habits?

i bite my nails.. a lot 74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

do i have enough space to describe such a dork in my life? 75: tell us about your pets!

i have 1 dog! her name is diamond, she’s an adorable mutt! 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't?

probably sleeping.. pffft! 77: pink or yellow lemonade?

doesn’t matter they both taste great 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

minion, like from despicable me minions? XD cause if so, im in the sorta fanclub 79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

they drew me XP 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

mine are sand colorish and no i didn’t choose it, we painted over the white/pink color that was there before, some of my other walls are different shades of blue. 81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

i guess like a horizontal oval shaped open window with small black curtain looking out to an ocean of chocolate syrup 82: are/were you good in school?

yeah, i was 83: what's some of your favorite album art?

no idea, i dont really look at album covers 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

i’m too afraid of needles and have a low tolerance for pain, so no tattoos for me, if i did get one, i’d get one of probably my zodiac sign which is Scorpio 85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

i don’t read comics, i read manga and my favorite ones are Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji and Horimiya 86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

what are concept albums??? 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

any disney/marvel movies 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

none that i can think of at the top of my head 89: are you close to your parents?

not really, there are things i’ll tell them, but not everything 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

i dont really have a favorite city 91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

this year? i plan on traveling down to go see my best friend! that’s my main goal 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

no cheese on my pasta! 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most?

ponytail, i can’t really keep my hair down cause of the humidity here 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

my best friend XD 95: what are your plans for this weekend?

video gaaaaaaaaaaames! 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

i usually procrastinate 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

uhh... zodiac? idk what myer briggs is and im not that big of a harry potter fan 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

hahahahaahahah xD me! HIKING! LOL!! 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

No.. 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

I’d go 5 years into the past to reassure my younger self that i don’t have to have my life all together and absolutely know what i want to do with my life

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