#it's been weeks since the chapter was released and I still haven't recovered

[vingler-mirror]

Silly text post memes I made to cope with Chapter 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[missingn000]

a note about tpg's hiatus

hi everyone!! i've missed y'all <33 i want to share a quick note on tpg's hiatus, and how long it will last.

first and foremost, the tl;dr: i will not abandon tpg. the story remains incredibly important to me, and this hiatus is only that: a hiatus. i will return eventually, and while i am not exactly sure when "eventually" is, i hope to begin updating again soon.

now the long explanation. tpg's hiatus has lasted much, much longer than i expected. it wasn't until i took a break that i realized how mentally and emotionally drained i was after writing 600k+ in 2 years, along with being an engineering master's student then starting a job in aerospace. especially after writing sukuna's backstory (75k+ words in one month), my brain was utterly fried. all in all, it's been a lot.

as some of you may know, i started watching one piece in september. and i love it! it's an incredibly fun, well-written feel-good series. it's been a refreshing mental break to engage with a new series, especially since jjk canon has been so disappointing in both content and writing quality. 

if you check my ao3, you'll notice i took a break from jjk with other series in the past: namely dr. stone, sxf, and natsume yuujinchou. this is necessary for me to remain creative and explore narrative themes that i bring back to tpg when i return to it. but by the time my recent hiatus started, it had been well over a year since i engaged with any other series than jjk, and it was starting to take its toll on me. i'm almost caught up on one piece now, which means i'll be able to focus on tpg again soon.

when i return from tpg's hiatus, updates may be slower. releasing 15k+ word chapters every 2-4 weeks was incredibly mentally taxing and required much of my time and focus to constantly be on the story. it wasn't healthy, and other areas of my life were impacted negatively. it can be easy to forget that i'm a real person with real-life responsibilities writing this story in my spare time for free -- even i sometimes forgot this. 

another note on why taking a break has been so necessary is my mental health. when season 2 released and toji + satosugu was animated, the fandom exploded and tpg's readership drastically increased. while this meant an influx of amazing love and support, i also started to receive rude and hateful comments and messages.

don't get me wrong: not everyone has to like tpg. that's totally fine! but as a very sensitive person, receiving hate took a huge toll on my mental health and motivation, and i have needed time to recover from it. i've been doing better mentally lately, and have taken some measures to reduce unkind interactions. i'm working on becoming less sensitive in the meantime so i can handle it better if/when it happens again.

since i've been feeling guilty about not posting jjk content, i haven't been on tumblr quite as much, but i'm still around online on both discord and instagram. mutuals can request my priv @chiidoriii on IG, and my discord is @MissingN000 -- just shoot me a message with who you are when you request! i'll still post fic updates on both new stories as well as tpg content and previews on tumblr, so please stick around :)

thank you so much for your patience with me! i love you all so much, and truly appreciate your support. love, chi <333

[imtrashraccoon]

I got a bit busy but I haven't dropped this series! It made more sense to combine these two ideas rather than make two separate chapters I think. I have about three more planned chapters that will both serve to wrap up the final threads and also serve as an epilogue of sorts.

This chapter takes place a day after Day 18 Festival or two months and three weeks after the humans fell into the Underground.

First Day, Previous Day, & Bonus Three.

Bonus 2: Festival & Dancing Part 2

You were stirred from sleep by an incessant bouncing on the couch cushions, which was no doubt Frisk's doing. With a low grumble of annoyance, you rolled onto your back and pulled the blanket up to your chin.

"... it's too early kiddo..." you murmured.

For a brief moment all was quiet and you almost began to wonder if they'd actually decided to show mercy on you.

You were mistaken.

The sudden collision of their much smaller, but still quite solid, body with your abdomen immediately dashed away any hope of getting a few more minutes of sleep. You let out a sharp gasp of pain and your eyes shot open to their now widely grinning expression.

You scowled and before they could get away, pulled them into a crushing hug. "You little pest," you growled in a teasing way while trying to get your own revenge by tickling them.

Frisk squirmed and wiggled to get away but to no avail as your grip held firm and you rained down tickles until you were both completely out of breath from laughing so hard. Only then did you release them and collapse back onto your pillow to recover.

"Okay... So what has you so impatient for me to get up this morning?" you finally asked.

"Santa came!" they signed. After a moment though, their excited smile fell to be replaced by a confused expression. "He did come, right? Even though there's no chimney?"

You chuckled and managed to sit up, pulling Frisk with you so they were sitting on your lap. "Well... You're right about the chimney part, so we decided to help Mr. Claus out this year since he wasn't able to drop off your presents in person."

You hoped your explanation wouldn't confuse them further but what else were you supposed to say? Right now would be a bad time to break the news that Santa Claus wasn't real and while you didn't want to lie to them, you also knew the importance of childlike wonder. It couldn't hurt to keep that hope alive for at least one more day, right?

Frisk seemed to consider your words for a moment before they smiled again and nodded slowly. "That makes sense... I suppose he can't come down here anyways because then he would be trapped and no one would receive presents."

You stroked their head in an affectionate way and smiled as well. "I guess that's one way of looking at things, but it's alright. Even if things aren't the same this year, we love you and we still want you to be able to be happy, okay?"

They wrapped their arms around your neck in a fierce hug that actually caught you off guard. You embraced them though and slowly rocked their body back and forth.

The brothers came downstairs eventually, although you could tell Sans seemed like he hadn't completely woken up yet. Papyrus was somehow the opposite and looked the very picture of perfect, like one those cliché "Just woke up like this" Instagram posts. You honestly envied him but weren't about to voice your complaints out loud, as he totally would take satisfaction in holding it over your head.

Once everyone was gathered together, Frisk opened their presents. While they seemed excited to receive the sketchbook and coloured pencils, you were surprised to see how much they liked the Mettaton action figure. They were grateful for each of their presents, but you could tell what the winning gift had been and it wasn't even a close contest.

A little later while Frisk was checking out the books they'd received, you helped Papyrus in the kitchen with making breakfast. It made you happy that Frisk had liked what you had managed to get them and while things were different this year, overall they seemed happy, which was what you'd been most worried about.

"got a question for ya, Rihanna."

You glanced over to find Sans leaning against the archway between the kitchen and living room. "Sure, what's up?" you asked.

"frisk mentioned a guy named santa claus earlier. so, who is he exactly?"

Papyrus seemed to perk up at the question and stopped what he was doing. Turning to you, he inquired, "Does He Seriously Just Enter Your Home Without Asking Under The Pretense Of Leaving Gifts?"

You chuckled and responded in a lower voice than before so Frisk would be less likely to accidentally overhear. "Well, that's how it traditionally works. The truth is it's just a fun thing someone made up for the kids to make this time of year magical or something."

"Right, I Cannot Imagine Not Having Magic, Let Alone Not Growing Up Surrounded By It, That Must Be Unbearable," Papyrus mused. "My Previous Question Still Stands Though. Why Do Humans Trust A Stranger Like That Around Their Children?"

"Most people don't," you answered flatly. "Besides, Santa Claus doesn't actually exist, it's just a guy in a costume pretending to be him. Most Santa's are set up in malls so you can get pictures with them anyways."

"so he's made up?" Sans asked in a tone that sounded like he didn't fully believe you.

You couldn't help the grin that formed at his question. If you didn't know better, both brothers actually seemed rather concerned and while you could understand why, it was still pretty amusing that they were so unnerved by a harmless tradition.

"Yes, Santa Claus is made up. In fact, the whole tradition of a man that gives presents to children was based on an actual person named Saint Nicholas who gave money to people in need. While Santa has roots in many cultures, usually by different names, the concept is pretty much the same across the board."

Sans made a low humming sound and tapped his clavicle thoughtfully. "huh, that's quite different than what we thought..." he muttered.

You tilted your head questioningly and glanced between the brothers. "What did you think Santa Claus was then?"

"i dunno, like a celebrity or a ruler of some sort?" Sans rubbed the back of his skull awkwardly and frowned. "look, 's not much you can really gain from the random junk you find in the dump with his stupid face on it, okay?"

You giggled at his obvious embarrassment and shook your head. "No, no, it's okay! Anyone would find my culture's fascination with him strange and you've probably only seen a glimpse into the level of our obsession."

Papyrus chuckled and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Your Kind Have Some Strange Traditions But I Suppose We Do As Well. In Fact When We First Put Up The Lights Outside, We Did Not Even Know They Were Christmas Lights Until Much Later. We Just Thought They Looked Cool So We Have Left Them Up Ever Since."

Sans nodded in agreement. "too much effort to take 'em all down anyways..." he muttered.

"Fair enough, most would probably agree with you, but then there are crazy people who decorate their entire home and yards with lights. I couldn't even begin to understand how they can stand doing so."

< ~ - . - ~ >

That evening, Papyrus approached you in the kitchen and you couldn't help but notice that something was different about him. He seemed kind of excited, but not in a teasing or smarmy way, and he was holding something behind his back.

"What's this about?" you asked.

With more flourish than was necessary, he produced a decent sized package wrapped in simple brown paper and tied together with twine. You could feel your heart skip a beat and while you didn't want to assume this was a present considering the occasion, your mind couldn't seem to come with any other explanation.

"I Was Thinking Of You Recently And So I Got You Something To Show My Appreciation," Papyrus explained as he handed the package to you.

You blinked in surprise and for a moment just looked at the present, scarcely able to believe this was happening. You hadn't expected for him to get you anything but you really shouldn't have been as surprised that he had. Coming from the guy that would jump at the chance to spoil you if it wouldn't make other people suspicious, and if you had let him, this gesture should've been obvious.

Upon opening, the package contained something knitted from incredibly soft red yarn. You quickly realized it was actually a shawl with a fringe and, by the texture, seemed to be made from a similar material to Papyrus' scarf.

"Is this...?"

He nodded, "Yes, It Is, Precious. I Remembered How Much You Seemed To Like My Scarf So I Got You Something Similar." He couldn't seem to be able to stop the wide grin that crept across his skull and in a slightly snarky tone added, "Maybe With This You Will Refrain From Stealing It Again, Hm?"

You felt your cheeks grow rather warm from embarrassment and looked away. "It was one time! Besides, I did give it back when you noticed..."

He chuckled and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands, guiding your gaze back to his own. "I Know, I Am Only Teasing You..." he purred softly.

"This is really nice though... Thank you, Paps." You frowned slightly and glanced down at the shawl. "I just... I feel bad I didn't get you anything in return..."

"Hey." When you looked up at him again, he smiled in such a genuine way, that it almost made your heart melt. "I Know You Were Not Able To And I Never Expected Anything Like This From You. I Only Got You Something Because I Wanted To And Just Having You By My Side Is Enough To Make Me Happy."

"Still," you pouted, "I wish I could've."

A moment later though, you got a bit of a cheeky idea. "Hey... There is one thing I could give you..."

Papyrus seemed to catch on rather quickly. Maybe it was your tone of voice or maybe it was the slight smirk you had when you said it. Either way, he bent down slightly to be more on your eye level and gave you a bit of a curious look.

"Oh? And What Is That?" he asked.

"It's a sort of human Christmas tradition..." Rather than explain and ruin the moment, you decided to just go for it, despite the lack of mistletoe. Catching him by surprise, you wrapped your arms around his spinal column and kissed him.

He almost melted into your embrace and barely hesitated to hug you back. You released him after a minute but couldn't exactly pull away when he continued holding onto you. He pressed his skull against your forehead seemingly content in the moment.

"I Like Your Traditions, Precious," he purred in your ear.

You grinned in satisfaction, "I hoped you would..."

He held you close for a little while longer before he seemed to get an idea. His hold loosened on you except for his right hand which he moved to just behind your left shoulder.

"Remember A Few Days Ago When You Asked If I Would Teach You How To Dance?" he asked.

Your eyes widened and you nodded. "Yes, are you saying you want to right now?"

He grinned, "If You Would Like To."

"I would," you agreed. "But a fair warning, I probably will end up stepping on your toes a bunch as I've literally never done this before."

"Do Not Worry About That, You Could Not Hurt Me If You Tried."

Papyrus directed you to wrap your left arm over his right and rest your hand near his shoulder. He then clasped your right hand with his left and raised your joined hands up to about your own eye level.

There wasn't any music to really sync your movements to, but that didn't bother you in the slightest and you slowly swayed back and forth together. Once you'd become a bit more comfortable, Papyrus guided you into a basic step.

He moved to his left and brought his feet together before repeating, bringing you along with his movements. Then, he repeated the process but to his right this time.

It was much simpler than you'd originally pictured and actually pretty fun. You were pleasantly surprised that you didn't make an absolute fool of yourself. While he didn't admit to it, you suspected Papyrus was somehow purposely guiding you in such a way to prevent you from stepping on his toes like you'd fully expected to. He moved with such confidence though that you didn't mind in the slightest.

You quickly lost yourself in the moment and found yourself only able to focus on his face. Here was the toughest and also the strongest man you'd ever met, and yet he moved with the grace of an experienced gymnast or athlete. It was so contradictory and yet made complete sense for him as a person.

He was just that cool.

[justleaf]

Summary

Roche and Iorveth go on a date with Geralt as their chaperone (not the hat).

Content Background

This one is especially painful to yeet because it was already completed, together with 50% of the next chapter that was the smutty bits. It was finished right about the time I posted Chapter 5 and would have fit in as Chapter 11, but it just didn't make sense with all the additional plot points I'd shoved in.

I've redacted the parts that could potentially get my tumblr banned btw please donut laugh when you see it.

Original Fic

It Took Years

Length

2,300 words

_____________

“Geralt, remember when I released you from prison and saved you from the Nilfgaardians a year ago?”

The white wolf raised his eyebrows in surprise. Roche had never called in a favour for him, and he could tell that Geralt knew it was going to be quite significant. He had thought about it too many times and despite the embarrassment and possibly never being able to look the witcher in the eye, he simply had no other choice.

“Look, I just need you to help Iorveth and I create an alibi.”

“... Uh-huh?”

“We have a meeting with Dijkstra in Novigrad in a week's time, and I plan to…” he swallowed hard when the words became momentarily stuck in his throat. It took another second for him to gather his courage to speak, and the slight tremble in his voice was immediately noticeable.

“I plan to spend the night with Iorveth in one of the inns the night before. But we need someone to cover us.”

The white wolf seemed to grow even paler and his lips pressed together in contemplation.

“You know that I have enhanced senses.”

“I know, but I need to make sure that no one catches us. Not the Scoia'tael, Blue Stripes, Dijkstra’s spies, Redanian spies, any Nilfgaardian-”

“Alright, alright, I get it. You just need to make sure that everyone thinks that I invited you two for a drink and make sure that no one is listening in.”

“I know I’m asking a lot of you, but you’re the only one I can trust in this situation. I haven’t… Iorveth and I don’t have any other opportunities. I can’t even hold his hand without worrying that someone is watching.”

Geralt stared blankly at him and Roche’s heart began to pump harder. His worry must have shown on his face, for the witcher immediately sighed and shook his head.

“Come to the Chameleon. I’ll get you guys a suite. With a wall to separate the living area and the bedroom.”

Roche looked up at him and down a few times, wondering first if Geralt had misspoke, and then if he had misheard. When the witcher said nothing and shrugged, Roche finally accepted it with a nod.

“Thanks, Geralt. Drinks are on me,” he muttered and hung his head a little. Embarrassment was beginning to burn his cheeks.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you soon.”

<center>_________________________</center>

“Why are we here so early when Geralt only wanted to see us after sundown,” Iorveth whispered as they passed the guards that almost ripped their papers in half. Roche had smooth-talked his way in and Iorveth was impressed, even though he didn't let it show.

They had set aside their armour and entered the city dressed as merchants: Roche in a nondescript outfit that let him blend in with the rest of the nobles, and Iorveth draped in a cloak that obscured his elven features.

The sun was nowhere near setting when they arrived in the city. Roche had intended to take him on a date around the city, but didn’t want to admit it.

“I didn’t want to disappoint Geralt by being late.”

“Gwynbleidd would have understood.”

“Well, since we’re already here, we might as well explore the city. I heard of a tavern along the docks with an elven cook. Would you like to go there?”

The mention of food changed Iorveth’s expression immediately and Roche suppressed his laughter.

They dined at the Golden Sturgeon, where Iorveth immediately received preferential treatment from a redhead with freckles (it's Bea btw). She made sure to seat them in a relatively hidden corner and Roche could see the elf progressively relax as his shoulders began to sag. He even spotted the hints of a smile dancing on his lips when she put some strange fish dish in front of him.

Just when Roche thought that Iorveth was incapable of enjoying himself even more, he became increasingly pliant when they sat down at the Chameleon for a pint while a band played in the background. Roche didn't understand the first thing about music, but his two mugs of ale were enough to get him to keep his reservations.

Besides, he had something really cute to look at.

The elf's cloak was finally down and he could see the tips of his pointed ears twitch with every beat of the drum. He thought about how nice it would have been to pin him down to the bed and toy with his ears. His eyes trailed across the elf’s neck. If they didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, he would have left bite marks across that smooth skin.

<em>Mine,</em> he thought, and he wanted the world to know once all this was over.

“You play the recorder don’t you,” Roche asked out of the blue. Their eyes met and Iorveth was slightly startled by the intensity of his gaze, but he didn’t back down.

“Yeah. There’s been too much going on recently and I haven’t had the chance to though.”

“You can practice with mine tonight.”

“Vernon,” Iorveth warned with a glare, and then quickly glanced around the room to see if anyone was within earshot. There wasn’t, but the tension in his body didn’t leave.

“I could polish yours all night too, you know.”

The elf flinched and could see the pink develop along the tops of Iorveth’s high cheekbones and the tips of his ear. Past his flustered expression however, there was a particular heat blossoming in his eyes. Roche didn’t let up, his curiosity driving him to see just how much he could take it.

“My carrying case is a bit small, but I’m sure yours will fit in with a bit of a shove."

This time, Iorveth couldn't resist the urge to push back. Dandelion's tavern was filled with his regulars who were deep in their own conversations, and they were just talking about music, right?

"So you admit that my instrument is bigger."

"Well the quality of the instrument doesn't matter if the musician has no idea how to handle it."

"I think we've proven that I'm the better player though."

"Our last few encounters haven't exactly been skewed in my favour and I still managed."

"There is no fairness in music and in battle. You should know this, <em>Commander</em>."

The way Iorveth said the word made his mouth go dry.

Now <em>that</em> was truly unfair, and his [banana] agreed. He was seconds away from tugging Iorveth upstairs when the doors swung open and in stepped the white wolf.

"Geralt!" he called out and waved a hand.

"Nice to see you both. I hope you didn't wait long."

The witcher took a few steps towards them, sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. He had this resigned look about him and Roche immediately knew that he could smell their arousal.

"Let's drink in my room," Geralt suggested and grabbed four mugs of ale from a passing waitress. She protested at first, but nodded and flashed him a huge smile when she saw who he was.

They headed up the stairs and Roche had to try very hard not to openly stare at Iorveth's ass. It [eggplant] and he had no choice but to stare ruefully at the ground.

As soon as he saw that the second floor was empty, he reached out and pinched the elf's behind. Iorveth jumped at the touch and almost spilled his own mug of ale, and Roche was treated to one of those embarrassed glares. They quietly ascended another flight of stairs and neared the room, and Roche could feel his heart race and his breathing grow ragged.

Finally, after two weeks of planning and trying to fit all the pieces together, it was happening. It had been a year since Dol Blathanna and months since they started seeing each other, and Roche was raring to go.

Geralt opened the door to a suite on the top floor that was exactly as he described: a small living area with a table for four and a few sparse furnishings, though it was far more comfortable than the arrangements he was used to. Partitioned off by a wall and door was a bedroom mostly occupied by a sizable bed and more pillows than he could count. A decision made by the bard, no doubt.

As soon as the door closed behind them and they set down their mugs, Roche grabbed Iorveth’s collar and shoved him towards the bedroom. The elf looked mortified and nearly lost his footing, but he recovered within the span of a few steps. He grabbed Roche’s arms and plucked them off him, then tried to shove him backwards but Roche held his ground.

“What the fuck, Roche?!”

Roche took a step back and considered Iorveth’s anger. The elf's gaze had grown sharp and alert, but he was mostly just shocked at the audacity of his actions. He just flashed him a devious smile and was returned a twitch of confusion.

“What? Didn’t you always like roughhousing me on the forest floor?”

“Not in front of Gwyn-”

Roche barely gave Iorveth a chance to answer. He charged forward, wrapped an arm around the elf’s waist, and threw him straight into bed. Iorveth went flying into the mattress with a groan and Roche climbed straight into his lap. Heavy footsteps thudded behind them and stopped by the door.

“Oil’s on the nightstand. Don’t get the sheets dirty and take your shoes off before you get in bed dammit. I can’t afford to pay for new sheets too.”

“Gwynbleidd, what is the meaning of this.”

“Just a little gift from me to the both of you. Have fun, Iorveth. Just try not to make too much noise.”

The door behind them closed and Iorveth just stared blankly at Roche, who was already taking off his top. No words came out of the elf’s gaping mouth, so Roche blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Enjoying the date so far?”

“Explain yourself Roche, I’m not-”

The elf had to pause when Roche began grinding in his lap. It worked until it didn't, and Iorveth grabbed onto his hips to still them. Roche just wanted to get to the fucking already, but the elf refused to be distracted no matter how much he tried.

“Did you plan all this? Coming to my camp to pick me up. Picking flowers for me along the path. Bringing me to the tavern for dinner. Having drinks. This fake meeting with Gwynbleidd.”

“Of course. When else was I going to get the opportunity to take you out on a date?”

Something in Iorveth cracked visibly and Roche went dead still with nervousness. The other lowered his gaze and Roche cupped his face in his hands, desperate for his elf to be okay. He stroked his cheek gently and tilted his head up to try and get a better look at that unreadable expression. This was the opposite of what he hoped would happen and worry began to pool in his stomach.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong. Talk to me,” he urged and placed a peck on the scarred cheek. There was no answer, so he continued fluttering kisses along his jawline. He felt like his world might come crashing down at any moment and resisted the urge to salvage the situation before he knew what was going on.

It felt like Iorveth was cycling through a thousand and one emotions. He cupped the elf's face in his hands and pulled back, where he was greeted by a vulnerability he had never seen before. The other had this dazed and awed look in his eyes, and if Roche wasn't so flustered by the sudden change of pace, he might he caught his surrender.

“Vernon…”

“I’m here. What is it? You can tell me.”

“It’s just...overwhelming.”

“In a good way or bad way?”

“Good way.”

Roche released the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. It was nice that the reaction was somewhat positive, but Roche’s poor heart couldn’t take the anticipation. Surprising Iorveth was turning out to be quite bad for his health.

“Well. Have you enjoyed yourself?”

“Mmn.”

“It's okay. We'll take it at your pace.”

“I just... need some time to process this. I’ve never been treated like this before. It's overwhelming.”

“Well you deserve it. Take the time you need, it’s okay,” Roche encouraged again and placed another peck on his nose as he undid the bandanna that obscured half his face.

This really wasn’t how he thought the evening would go, but he had to admit that it was nice. At the core of it, all he really wanted was to be able to kiss and hold Iorveth intimately without fear of someone catching them. Now they were in bed and there was someone trustworthy to watch their backs, he supposed he had achieved his goal. Maybe they could just hold off the fucking for a while more.

“Do you want to take a nap with me,” Roche offered after they'd sat in silence for a while.

“Yeah… I would like that very much.”

Iorveth tried to take off his cloak, but Roche shushed him and pushed his hands aside. The elf had a blank look on his face and hurt momentarily flashed across his eye.

"Let me," Roche rushed to salvage as he pulled loose the strings on his cloak.

“I can undress myself you know.”

“I know you can, but just let me pamper you a bit more.”

The tips of Iorveth's ears were bright red and Roche suppressed the urge to tease him about it. Slowly, he helped the elf strip down to his underwear and slipped him beneath the sheets. Then he took off his own garments and joined him, snuggling up to that warm and slender body that seemed to fit so perfectly with his.

Yeah, he could wait.