#thank you to anyone who is interested in purchasing my stuff! <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[piratespencilart]

Check out my new shops!

🎨 Etsy: PiratesPencilArt.etsy.com 🎨

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/piratespencilart ☕

This is my first foray into really selling my art online, so... consider this a bit of a test run to see if people are interested? I only have a couple designs up right now, but I'm definitely planning on adding more designs if this goes well!

I have Veth prints! They are 4" x 6" postcard sized art prints. You can buy them individually or as a set of three!

And Veth stickers! (I decided to stick to a theme here. 😊) They are about 2" in size, and are waterproof vinyl!

(The USD prices might vary slightly based on the exchange rate.)

All shipping is free internationally!

Also!! The first twenty people who order something from either my Etsy or my Ko-fi will get a little bonus FCG sticker. This one is just matte paper, not vinyl, but it's cute. 😊

[riaaanna]

Queen Fanclub Convention 2023 Part 7: the rest of the fun!

I'm done with all those long transcripts so this post will be more of photos and vibes! While the guest panels were the bulk of the main event during the Convention, there were a lot of other things going on parallel and in-between. I'll just be posting a few things with somewhat interesting contents - to me at least!

Marketplace

Can't really capture the whole atmosphere in one shot but as the name suggests, this is where Queen fans put up their stalls to sell their Queen-related things. They range from handcrafted works to rarity bootlegs, so it was all quite a mix! It was honestly like walking through a hoarder's den lmao, but in a somewhat organized way. Anyone I've seen or heard about as Queen collectors online, they were probably there, or at least their stuff were. Just to give you an idea here are people putting up their Sotheby's purchases right there.

I was mainly a woman on a mission for rarities, but this was Saturday morning before the panel and I didn't want to lose my spot at the good table, so I had to go about it quickly and efficiently. I didn't want to fall for obvious scams either which there are a lot! So my right hand was browsing through items while my left was on the phone scrolling through file folders and chats (£60 for a 1984 bootleg?? I have that in a freakin OneDrive link 😭). I bought something cheap that, in panic, I thought I didn't have, but it turns out I did. Not a big loss and it was a much nicer quality so it was fine...

MPT also had their own stall inside the hall (not part of the Marketplace), this was just a small selection. And you can hear a trivia quiz running in the background lol.

Charity Auction and Raffle

I didn't participate in the auction and I only spent a little on the raffle (and didn't get anything lol, lots of people bought huge amounts of raffle tickets), but there were some interesting things! List of the auction items on the left (📸 Ian Knight) and list of the raffle items on the right.

I loved seeing the handwritten things up for auction, again all the images below were taken by Ian but cropped by me.

From left to right. First is #6, Roger's handwritten letter for the fanclub magazine in 1994, talking about his song "Nazis 1994".

Next is #10, a lyrics sheet of Say It's Not True with Roger's handwritten note: "This is a sad song about a horrible situation anyone could find themselves in! 46664!"

Last is #21, Brian's "favourites" questionnaire, handwritten and signed. He loves Queen II and The Works (what a combo) and writes Anita Dobson under favourite actress 🥰

Party vibes!

The rest of the party is just good fun! Some of the calmer parts are team games and trivia quizzes, both Queen and non-Queen related, for the brainy fans! There is also a caravan decorating competition and a fancy dress competition for the crafty fans! (I didn't take many photos of them myself and I've already used too many of Ian's lol, so sorry for the lack of photos...) There's also a crazy golf competition somewhere but I did not check that out at all I was not there for that. Lots of music (tribute bands and DJs) and dancing which I could only indulge in for a small amount of time before I drained my entire social energy lol. Here's a tradition at the Convention which they call the Breakthru train, lots of fun!

Overall a really fascinating first-time experience at the Queen Fanclub Convention! It was very satisfying content-wise and, while I was wary (a party for 3 days? my God) it was also very fulfilling social-wise! I'm glad I decided to give it a go before returning home. It wouldn't have been the amazing experience that it was without everyone who was there with me but especially Ian, Rob, Cilla, Reece, and of course everyone else I met up and chatted with. Meeting fellow Queen fans irl is always a highlight that just hits different.

If you're still here that's incredible! Thank you for reading!

[ransprang]

[Ko-Fi Request] Hey there, Thank you very much for your awesome work, it is always appreciated <3 I decided to come back but this time for a chosen character from jjba which is Oingo (also called Zenyatta)

I'm a pretty tall girl, I would also say muscular and fit I have long fuchsia dyed hair, pretty pale skin and brown doe eyes (I also look tired all the time) 

My sense of style is pretty one of a kind,I really like skirts and turtleneck sweaters. I usually wear a lot of jewelry and chains in my outfit and I have a HUGE love for hats, all types of hats.

I may come off as cold and tense at first glance but I'm a big sweetheart which tend to make people confused I'm very shy and hardly open up, I'm also not talkative but a great listener, I love hearing about any types of stories. Still,once I open up and trust someone I would give them the world, I'm a very caring person, always up to cherish the ones I love.

I love animals and nature as well as art and painting which is my favorite hobby but I'm also extremely adventurous, and love traveling and discovering new places. 

Also have a big interest for the unknown, mysteries and out of the common stuff as well as a soft spot for gory stuff sometimes I'm not easy to scare at all, only people can freak me out.

Good luck with it and thank you again for putting so much effort into your work :3

Thank you anon for your support :)

link to our ko-fi for anyone who wants a match up too!

Oingo Match Up

SFW

Oingo Backstory: The Oingo Boingo brothers came from a broken home, like most small-time Jojo villains. Neglected by their parents, Oingo had to grow up early, and be a parental figure for the young Boingo. When Oingo was young, in a bout of teen angst and hatred for his parents, he rejected the names they gave him. Instead, he named himself and his brother from the broken CDs lying around their house. While wearing a tiny hat, he held Boingo’s tiny face and said, “From now on my name is Oingo, and you’re Boingo.” A few months after you start dating, he sometimes calls you Joingo.

How they meet: Oingo and Boingo were browsing a comic book exhibition, a regular pastime due to Boingo's deep interest in comics. The exhibition featured a wide range of art, from major brands to lesser-known indie artists. While walking through the aisles, Oingo noticed a beautiful painting that caught his eye, signed by an artist named "[Your Username]." Loving the name and the art, he decided to purchase it. Meanwhile, you were wandering through the exhibition, when suddenly your phone rang. It was your friend, the one who had a stall open at the exhibition and had begged you to put your art on there. You answer the call and they tell you to run back to the stall. When you reach, you meet a tall, hat-wearing Oingo. Your friend introduces you both to each other and sparks fly.

Since you both have a shared love for hats, he’d be down to go thrifting for some new hats to add to the collection. Matching hats and rings would totally be up his alley too. 

He tells you not to talk to strangers, just like he tells Boingo. He knows with your personality you probably won't anyways. When you’re both at restaurants ordering food he’ll be the one talking. 

He may not be too interested in horror movies, but he’d be down to watch some with you. He’d probably like the ones where there is some amount of strategy being executed by the villains and not brainless slashers.

Oingo will make Boingo use his stand to tell you stories about peoples’ futures. Sort of using Boingo like an entertainment pet. He’ll throw lil snacks at Boingo after every story. If Boingo isn’t around he’ll tell you of his previous adventures.

Sometimes when you get tired, you ride on Oingo’s right leg while Boingo sits on his left leg. You and Boingo chit chat as Oingo walks. Since you’re a lot taller and more muscular than Boingo, one of his legs gets way more buff.

Oingo would introduce you to some of his little hobbies like his small cactus collection and making you listen to some songs on his record player. Get ready to jam out to R&B and EDM.

Since you love adventures, you would never be bored with Oingo, since being stand users they are always attracting all kinds of trouble. 

Oingo would use his stand to disguise himself and rob multi-billion dollar corporations, and bring you little presents and souvenirs. Since robbing the same place multiple times gets boring, you guys would also travel around a lot.

NSFW

As much as he loves your personality, Zenyatta would be drawn to your striking figure and fuschia hair cascading down your back. He can’t help but imagine pulling on your hair while you’re giving him a sucky sucky. 

When you sit on his lap, Zenyatta likes using his big thighs to tease you. He rubs your clit with his leg. As he would use his hands to guide you waist to grind on him. He gets a kick out of it especially in public.

When you kiss Zenyatta he loves it when you suck on his thick lips, he prefers french kissing and when you bite his lower lip.

Zenyatta loves to use his stand by disguising himself in the bedroom, and different role plays turn him on. He likes acting like a biker who dominates you in bed. 

Oingo loves it when you wear skirts, he loves pulling you in to sit on his lap. As he feels your thighs all the way up to your panties, slowly sliding them to the side. His face lights up when you greet him wearing new skirts.

He pulls you closer to him by tugging on your necklaces making your chest touch his. He likes feeling your supple breasts against his muscles. It would get him so hard to feel you breathe against him. 

Zenyatta likes it when you taste his pre cum. He gets hard so easily around you, till he's dripping. “We wouldn't want to waste it now would we?” As he asks you for just a lick.

Zenyatta loves backshots, he would pull on your hair while gently placing his hand on your neck pulling you head back. He likes it rough, and loves fucking in front of a mirror so he can see your beautiful form.

He loves it when you loudly moan, screaming his name. Zenyatta gets super close, heat rises through him, when he knows it's risky and someone might find him pounding you. 

Zenyatta likes experimenting with different items around the room as toys. He loves spanking or tying you down. He also has a collection of handcuffs, and likes it when you whimper beneath him. 

yours boingly,

admins sar, sav & san

[alma-amentet]

I’ve been tagged by @katastronoot @sheirukitriesfandom and @dirty-bosmer (thank you all! 💖) 

This was sitting in my drafts for a while, just forgot to post...

Not tagging anyone ‘cause idk who hasn’t done it yes... Feel free to take if you feel like!

1. are you named after anyone?

Grandma originally named me after her little sister who died in early childhood. She was babysitting and blamed herself for that accident.

But that was too dull, widespread, and didn’t felt mine, so my nomatophobia started progressing. Finally I renamed myself after Fairytopia Barbie. Best friend started calling me Elina in 2008, when I was pretty much into Barbie movies fandom. It stuck, I started telling everyone it was my actual name, even at work. Then finally changed it legally and never regretted. 

Barbie movies is everything, yeah.

2. when was the last time you cried?

One weekend ago.

3. do you have kids?

Nope, and it’s most probable I won’t. Already in my 30s, didn’t start wanting/regretting yet. I like kids, kids are like flowers, but let them bloom in someone else’s garden. 

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not really. Being neurodivergent, I have troubles with a sense of humour in general. Many things feel more offensive than funny to me, and if I try it myself, it might be rather insulting than funny... So only with closer friends, I guess.

5. what sports do you play/have you played?

Drinking games, lol.

Not a fan of sports and competitions. I prefer fitness\wellness, where you don’t have to compete or show off. Never liked team games as well. As a kid, I enjoyed tennis or badminton a bit, but again, just for fun.

I do yoga a bit, would like to excercise more though.

6. what's the first thing you notice about other people?

Style, clothing, hair, accessories. Whether they have some fandom\music\etc merch on. This way I might identify them as the ones like me, the ones worth talking to - at first sight.

I can be generally cautious, even hostile, about people, esp males and elders. And in general, I prefer meeting people online or in some safe spaces / meetups where everyone shares some interests/hobbies/fandoms. It’s easier for me.  

7. eye color?

blue gray. and I do wear color lenses - need them to see things anyway, so why not have fun with colors? Last year I had red ones and wore them casually.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Happy and clever endings that give you food for thought and make you feel feelings - I’ve been a long time Pixar fan, you know.

There was time I’ve been into mystic horrors, some years ago, but now I’m old and tired even for them. LIfe is a dystopia by itself, I need more kind stuff.

(don’t watch movies much these days, I prefer games).

9. any special talents?

Some say I am outstanding and bold,and that I have great creative potential, and that I inspire some people just by being myself... IDK.

10. where were you born?

a city in the mountains

11. what are your hobbies?

I’m a a self-taught seamstress, I’ve been sewing most of my life (because I always loved creating things myself & from my very childhood wanted some unusual clothes that couldn’t be purchased in regular stores). At times, I took comissions, then were 5 years of cosplaying.

I’m into corsetry (waist-training and making corsets myself).

And drawing, of course.

12. do you have any pets?

Nope. Used to have an aquarium in the past.

13. how tall are you?

5’7″ (170 cm) 

14. fave subject in school?

Biology (just in elem and mid, then it became too complex), english. 

I was also one of the best in literature, but I didn’t like it at all. Just figured out how to get exc grades and did it for the sake of being praised. 

15. dream job?

Illustrator, artist.  

[the-firebird69]

He has a huge a****** trying to accepting my husband at each purchase was right in the way at the laundromat the whole time before he got there he had other people doing stuff just saying are you paying attention was yeah I'm taking all your stuff my husband said it back to him and it's kind of very clueless, but dangerous so tonight we're going to thank him there's a lot of ways to do it there's a few renditions we want to run there's going to be in trouble movies and it's going to be shot over and over in the same place constantly and people can get away with it cuz he blames my husband who doesn't do anything Jim the sinus area health sinuses what the pretend is my husband still have these pains there it's in the balls so you just need them anyways and there's more to it

Trump's buildings are catching on fire because they're selling them on fire and we're going to send that to the police on May occasions it was Dan was actually the fire guy and he put it out too early and is an idiot. These are on devices and say they can hide by doing that and I tried to collect insurance money and now they're under investigation for insurance fraud.

Other things happening in punta Gorda there of interest

And yes Hera has her snacks and is listening

-there are a few things these people have had it this morning was terrible way off the charts and son was saying get him the hell out of here and get him out 2 or 3 times and they took away and he kept coming back finally they said this other you take them out of here we take all you out of here. And it's a huge huge problem and now here's Trump as biden's son as an evil character from many movies and he's a real winner of this guy what a dick

-there's a whole bunch of things happening but Lincoln has different DNA and is going to be considered a spy from New Zealand and they worked it out with the max. But here in punta Gorda we experienced a tragedy this morning and near tragedy my son was harassed by a terrorist was trying to plant stuff in his bike still and he does it every day he showed up as a terrorist in a van like the vanity planted next to the police yesterday and tons of warlock died a huge number in Florida and Port Charlotte were killed because of his actions their grabs taken away and interrogated others were simply a fumigated they gasped them knock knock out gas and they took them away and killed them there's a huge number of them missing and we calculated approximately 300,000 out of Charlotte county with only 100,000 of leadership left and those were leaders by the way and it's still being interrogated in Central Florida and about 700 octillion per area in Florida and our five areas all dead. There's a huge number of people who hate him and they're mostly his people and they want them dead and they're sending hit people out and she's been can take over if you want but that boob is a dying piece of s*** that's what they say and that's what they say and he wants to yell at the guy that's good we're going to arrange that and the sun says who's a little retard announcing news at the White House and they're actually going after them there and they're tired of their stupid faces and their dumb talk this country is not respected anymore by anyone including us. So yes this statement is that they died when the idiot was doing his terrorist routine and they're dying again I'm going to publish so we don't lose it

Thor Freya

[francis-mulcahys-angels]

*spoilers for the cello**and general gore and horror stuff*

Weird thing but after waiting 50ish minutes I went to my theater at 8:30 with 10 minutes to kill and I was the only person there so I thought I was gonna have the theater room to myself(which is a great experience btw to have omg being the only person in a theater room is so fun) but as time went on a first couple arrived and then a second couple arrived a bit later when the movie began and then a group of 3-4 young people came later(I think they movie jumped) and then left not too long after which was a bit :/ like come one it’s a slow burn

Anyways it wasn’t that alone but I had fun, the second couple left about 3/4 into the movie which was hmm but yeah

Shout out to the lady from the first couple who asked me what I thought about the movie, and accidentally scaring me because I didn’t think anyone was gonna talk to me but she was nice and we chatted a bit about the movie which was fun

But sorry right on to my movie review

I think the concept was interesting but it wasn’t explored all that well

Like I wanted more from the movie I guess

Tobin Bell ilysm baby

Jeremy Irons I fucking love you, I wanted more of you from the movie and was very happy when the last quarter of the movie had you being a horrible little demon of a man

Idk if they are personally the devil/demons or vampires or immortals but they are at minimum 300ish years old omg

Also their gay-

Nasser is stronger than me if my student, uncle, mom, bff died due to my newly purchased cello I would of killed somebody/myself like insane

Also Sarah(I think her character was called) you were unfairly killed off, I loved you and your queer energy 😞why was she wearing a fedora and dressed like the 2010s

Omar and Alia are such good friends like it takes a lot of a person to follow their fellow Friends who are cursed by a evil Cello

The music was really good Ngl it was the right amount of scary unsettling and haunting beauty

The poor guy that tried to help and was killed:(

You deserve better king, unfairly killed off you were. And it was so brutal omg. His body and bones being twisted and contorted in unnatural ways as the cello was being destroyed by Omar

Like Omar thanks but you inadvertently caused his death

The cursed not being broken and the cello surviving while Nasser dies is a dark ending but idk

And the og creator of the cello being a ghost and killing the people with also the help of his wife and kid he killed and made into the cello omg(their souls are still trapped in the cello at the end of the movie)

Wished nasser finished the requiem and let all the people kill each other

Also weird detail but I liked that since the characters are from Saudi Arabia they talk Arabic with each other(lol I have watched too many movies/tv shows and just media in general of characters who have English as a second language and still talk English with another character when they could talk their native language. Like it’s a small thing but idk most of the movie was in Arabic with English subtitles and I liked that a lot. I wished all the movie was subbed but eh)

Anyways the gore and horror was for the most part well made and it was a fun watch. Watch it if you want to see a bit bad horror movie

After a shitty night and morning I’m gonna live it up and watch 3 movies at the local movie theater

Godzilla minus 1

The boy and the heron

The Cello

Wish me luck :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 3

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: On to part three. Sorry for being a human disaster.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 3: Or it will move right through me

💀💀💀

Jerome annoyed you as he picked through your tool box and clicked the ratchet noisily. He was excited but impatient and complained that you were taking so long. You told him if he wanted to pay out of pocket for labour, you could finish faster. 

You sat by his bike, parts strewn at your feet, and bent your head to look under the tank. You still had a lot to go and hadn’t yet added anymore of the gross chrome to the frame.

“Do you realise how filthy this is gonna get?” you huffed as you sat up and leaned your elbows on your legs, “not to mention how ridiculous it looks.”

“I like it. It’s just my style,” your brother grinned, “I don’t remember you spending this much time on Bucky’s ride and you and him--”

“He had me replace the tailpipe, you want nothing short of a rebuild,” you scoffed, “and you’re not the boss.”

“Don’t remind me,” he rolled his eyes, “guess it could be worse though. It could be Steve.”

“Thank god it’s not,” you chuckled, “I don’t know how many women had to toss beer in his face before he latched onto that mousy one at the bakery.”

“She’s nice,” Jerome shrugged, “far as I know. She doesn’t talk to anyone but Steve.”

“I wonder why,” you tisked, “he has insecurity written across his forehead.”

The tinny bell rang and the door whooshed open as the wind caught it. Jerome glanced over and dropped the ratchet noisily into the drawer of the tool box. You growled in warning as you spent much of your spare cash on those. He apologised quietly as he squared his shoulders at the man who appeared.

“Hey,” Bucky wiped the flakes from his hair and blew out a shiver.

“Bucky,” Jerome said rigidly.

The other man nodded and stepped further inside the garage. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced aimlessly around the concrete floor. You watched him as you fiddled with the bolt in your hand.

“You wanna head down to the bar?” It wasn’t a question as Bucky came to face you, “I gotta talk to your sister.”

“Sure,” Jerome replied sharply, “you got it, boss.”

Bucky grumbled and waited for him to leave. He sniffed and kicked his toe into the floor.

“So… what’re you doing here? Been a while so must be urgent,” you sat up on the rolling stool and stretched your back.

“The whole town’s talking about it. You fighting him,” his brows drew together, “I told you I’d take care of him.”

“You didn’t,” you said evenly, “so I did.”

“I talked to him--”

“And said what?” you snorted.

“Look, you don’t understand. You said it yourself, you don’t care about my business. You don’t get what’s going on but what I need from him is bigger than your temper.”

“Excuse me? This is my fault? He broke into my shop, he followed me from that diner and he put his hands on me,” you stood and tossed the bolt away, “what do you want me to do, Buck?”

“First, I want you to remind yourself who I am. We’re not fucking anymore so that mouth isn’t as cute,” he warned, “and I want you to play nice.”

“All you have to do is keep him away from me. How hard is that for a man like you, huh? You’re the big dog.”

“Watch it,” he pointed at you, “I won’t tell you again.”

“He’s here to deal with you, not me,” you insisted, “he grabbed me, I defended myself, and I’ll do it again.”

“This isn’t grade school anymore, you can’t fight the boys,” he sighed.

“What are you saying?”

He was silent as his jaw ticked and his blue eyes strayed to the ceiling. You stepped closer and gripped your hips as you stared him down.

“There’s nothing else I can do for you. Nothing else I will do. He’s your problem.”

He met your glare and you scoffed in disgust, “you’re fucking serious? What do these idiots have on you?”

“It’s not what they have on me, it’s what I want from them. I’m planning for something bigger than Birch, that means there’s gonna be some sacrifices,” he shrugged.

“Sacrifices? Is that what you call it? Well, here’s one for you, the next time you get a little scuff on your tank or your headlight starts to flicker, you can head down to Carl’s,” you scowled.

“Don’t do this,” he gritted through his teeth.

“I can get business without you. I do better work than Carl, you know that. So go, I’ll deal with that asshole on my own, how I see fit.”

He inhaled and lifted his chin. He closed his eyes and thought. 

“Damn it,” he swore, “you can’t make anything fucking easy. What is it with you women and your god damn--” he lifted his hand and stopped himself, “you get in the way of my business, and you won’t be so worried about Loki.”

“Oh yeah? That’s what he said about you,” you mocked, “what’s with you men and your egos?”

His lip curled and he breathed through his teeth. His eyes lit up and he punched his palm as he turned away quickly.

“I hope he has his fun with you. Maybe he can fuck some sense into you,” Bucky growled, “God knows I tried.”

“You weren’t that good,” you snipped.

He kicked the shelf of wipers hung near the front of the shop and grunted. He stormed to the doorway and stopped to look back at you.

“You’ll be wishing it was me…” he hissed.

He waved you off and continued through the front door, slamming it behind him loudly. You stared at the scattered packages of wipers and bit down on your tongue. You wanted to run out and strangle that idiot but you knew how he could be. It was the reason you broke off your little fling; he was too much like you. Hard-headed and volatile.

💀

You weren’t going to change just because the town was overrun by asshole men. You were standing your ground and that meant you were going to finish your club sandwich and enjoy one lunch without interruption. 

The café was busier that day as the snowfall dwindled and the streets were mostly cleared as the plows made their regular rounds. You looked through the window as the school kids stopped by the bakery for hot drinks on their lunch and circled the rim of your mug with your fingertip. You sensed it was only the lull before the storm.

Further down you could see the corner of The Asp and heard a rumbling engine. Your shop remained empty except for Jerome’s bike. Since Bucky’s visit, you were too worked up to concentrate anyway. You wanted to take your wrench and knock every man in town in the head with it.

Nora brought your sandwich as Kimmie didn’t work on the weekends and your side of soup. You would eat both and leave satisfied. You wouldn’t let anyone ruin your day off. Well, not that you had very much to do aside from that.

You dipped your crusts in the tomato soup and stared at the seat across from you. Empty. Perfect.

You scooped the last of the bowl into your mouth and wiped your lips with the napkin. You stood and gulped up your coffee. You left money on the table and headed out. A peaceful, solitary lunch all to yourself.

You skipped the shop and continued down the street. You pushed into the hobby shop you rarely ventured into, more a bookshop if you were honest. You greeted the man at the counter with a smile. When you were a girl, you remembered he ordered you a special set of paints as the ones in his store were all dried up. Lu, you recalled his name.

You went to the shelves of models and looked over the new arrivals. You took the Smokey and the Bandit Trans Am off the shelf and smirked. Your father had one just like it when you were a kid. It wasn’t exactly new. You grabbed a bottle of black paint with it, always running low on the stuff, and headed for the counter.

Lu punched the buttons on his till and you heard a creak. Light footsteps emerged from the basement of used books as you opened your wallet.

“I didn’t take you as bookish,” Loki’s voice made you cringe.

You didn’t answer and counted out the bills for your purchase, “actually, you got any glue? I didn’t see any on the shelf.”

“Hmm, oh,” Lu turned and bent to reach into a box, “haven’t stocked up but these came in just before the storm.”

He added the orange and white tube to your bag and you added another bill. He counted out your change and handed it to you.

“Quite interesting what small towns can hide,” Loki didn’t wait to step up to counter and stood close, his sleeve against yours, “An antique edition of Whitman. One of the only Americans I read.”

You looked down at the worn tome, the edges fraying and the letters faded. It was marked up to a couple hundred. You could appreciate a love for reading but you weren’t entirely sure some old paper was worth all that.

“I’ll need the reading material as my visit has been prolonged,” he mused as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, “my brother is due to return so I will stay in his place��� get to know the town of Birch more intimately.”

You hid your disgust at his words and continued out the door. His exaggerated tones stuck in your head as you passed the window and absently swung your bag. You hated him. You really did. You should have bashed him over the head with that dumb book. 

You thought of that day in the snow and smiled. You knew that shame lingered in him. You would have no problem repeating that scene.

You came up to your shop and stopped short. The burly redhead who arrived with the pestilent man stood at your door, peering in through the window, angling his head as he tried to see around the blinds. You cleared your throat as you neared.

“Something I can help you with?” you asked dully.

“Oh, ah,” he turned and laughed at himself, “I thought… Loki, I thought he’d be here.”

“No. He wouldn’t be,” you said, “he’s down at the book shop.”

“Thanks. He apologise?” He prodded.

“You seem to know him well. You think he did?” you challenged.

“Ah, nah,” he smiled awkwardly, “s’pose he didn’t.”

“S’pose he didn’t,” you echoed, “it would be smart if you kept him away from here.”

“Yeah, uh, should do,” he sidled past you and you listened to his heavy boots clump along the beaten snow.

You took out your key and unlocked the door. You closed it quickly behind you, that man’s presence set you on edge. He hadn’t shown any of the venom of his associate but he was loyal to him. You double checked the locks on all the doors and made certain all windows were closed. 

You went up stairs into your apartment and stripped off your coat and boots. You sat at the small table where you ate those dinners you didn’t forget and unpacked your new model. You sorted the pieces and spread out the instructions. The image of the car on the box brought back nostalgic memories. You wouldn’t know all you did about bikes if it wasn’t for your dad. You missed him every day for the last… too many years.

You lost yourself in the tiny parts. You hunched over the table and carefully dabbed glue onto the plastic. Your eyes began to itch as the windows dimmed and you got up to turn on the lamp. You kept building well after dark and finally left the half-finished car on the table.

You stretched out your limbs as you stripped down to only your loose tee and yawned. You fell into bed and turned on the old tube television. You hit play on the VCR and the loud previews blared from the boxy speakers. You rolled yourself in your comforter and sat through the same movie trailers you’d watched a dozen times.

You were never a romantic but you the movie was another shadow of your childhood. Your grandma used to watch Kathleen Turner whenever you went to her place. She would serve you yogurt and berries and turn on the cheesy action flick and if you slept over, she would put in the sequel right after.

Your rituals kept you sane. You found it was easier to know what to expect and given your temper, it was better not to be surprised. You were always the trouble child and you regretted all those times your dad had to come talk to the principal or walk you home from school. You promised him you would be better.

Still you didn’t regret what you did. He always told you to stand up for yourself. Hell, he taught you how to throw a punch and all your best insults were inherited from him. You smiled as you thought of him and hugged your pillow as the intro played and the credits flicked up one name at a time.

You drifted off in the glow of the television and the sound effects sank into your dreams. You were still in Birch but thick vines had grown around all the buildings and billowing leaves shrouded the skies. The town had turned to jungle and you could hear the growls and grunts of beasts unseen.

You spun as a twig snapped and a snake uncoiled from a branch and fell into the brush at your feet. You stepped back and it slithered towards you. You stumbled and ran away as you could hear its skin smoothly glide through the grass at your feet. You tripped as its long body wrapped around your ankles and you crashed to the ground.

You struggled as the snake constricted your body and wound its neck around to face you. Its green eyes shone as its black scales gleamed. Its tongue flicked against your cheek and you felt its hot breath as it opened its mouth and revealed long, frightening fangs. You screamed as its bite loomed and you woke with a start.

The visions of the wild jungle faded but the heat did not. You blinked as an amber haze took over the room and you fought through your messy blankets and tumbled onto the floor. Your curtains were alight along with much of the wall. You bachelor was blazing with orange flames and you could barely see the door through the smoke.

You coughed and scrambled to your feet. Your eyes streamed and you blindly ran for the door and flew down the stairs. The shop was almost entirely engulfed as you reached the lower landing and you fumbled with the front door as flames licked closer and closer.

You burst out into the frozen night and your feet were numbed by the ice and snow. You retreated from the burning building, your life set aflame, and turned back as you reached the sidewalk. Sirens screamed and made you wince as you crossed your arms and chattered against the cold.

“Pity,” the slither made your skin crawl, “though I suppose it is a blessing you at least saved yourself.”

You glanced at Loki as your vision blurred with the tears of realisation. Everything you had was turning to ash before you. You blinked away the droplet and sneered at him. He smirked and you knew. He smirked and he knew. It wasn’t an accident.

[furikakyo]

a return to roots | 3

pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader

summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break. 

genre: socmed/smau, slice of life 

warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence

masterpost 

You finished sending your texts to Osamu and sat back in your bed, tossing your phone aside and then pulling the covers over your head. As you tugged and curled into your blankets, your phone fell to the wooden floor of your bedroom with a heavy thunk. Cursing, you drew back the covers and reached over the edge of the bed, trying to find balance. All of the blood rushed to your face as you huffed, still attempting to rescue your phone without actually laying foot on the ground.

Once you finally recovered it, you sat back onto your bed with a heave, any sleepiness you had now gone. You stared at the ceiling, wondering what you should do that day. A hand fisted itself into the thick blankets as you tossed and turned, trying to find some comfort in your plush bed. You hadn't been able to sleep well the past couple of days, for whatever reason. Your neck hurt, your back was sore, hell, your entire body ached for some reason, restless and yet so tense at the same time.

You sat up suddenly. What was it Kuroo had said to you? You weren't sure.

"Ugh..." You buried your face into your hands, memories of last night's conversation rushing back to you; remembering how you'd started talking about Kita when you were nodding off. It had been over two years since everything between you went down. Why couldn't you stop thinking about it? You could feel the burn of embarrassment and shame behind your eyes, your throat beginning to close up. Sniffling, you opened your phone and scrolled through your contacts. Who wouldn't be busy? Your hand stilled, and your face brightened, if only for a moment. Kenma. He had a calm and comforting presence, which never failed to mellow you out. Plus, he didn’t really talk about emotions or feelings so he wouldn’t ask you about anything related to Kita, nor would you be tempted to talk about him.

You texted your bodyguard and driver, Ichiro, who agreed to pick you up from your apartment and then drive you to Kenma’s. Thanking him for coming on such a short notice and then reminding him to not text and drive, you got dressed for the day, choosing to wear your comfiest hoodie.

A few minutes later, your phone lit up again with Ichiro’s standard “here” text, and you were out the door, not forgetting to bring a hat and sunglasses with you, though. After locking the door and slipping your accessories on, you rushed into the elevator and then made your way down to the car.

The car ride itself was silent, as Ichiro seemed to have picked up on the mood you were in and decided not to comment. Although he was usually stoic, he always maintained a conversation if you initiated it, his responses albeit short. By now you knew that the brevity in which he spoke was not because of anything against you, however, but because he was naturally a quiet person. You wouldn’t have had anyone else for the job, though.

The car softly jolted you as it pulled to a stop, and you unbuckled quickly after realizing you were already at Kenma’s apartment. “Thanks!” you called out, opening the door yourself and then shutting it. You smiled and waved before Ichiro merged back into traffic, watching the car eventually disappear in the long stream of vehicles.

Feeling somewhat better, you entered the complex after buzzing in. and then made your way to Kenma’s apartment, knocking on the door and patiently waiting. There was a long pause and some shuffling behind the door before it opened a crack. Two large yellow eyes peered out into the hall, and then landed on you. The door shut and then opened without the door chain to stop it this time, and you stepped in.

“I brought my Switch,” you proudly announced, looking to the side of the corridor where Kenma was standing, a little hunched over and slouching. You held up your video game console, which was covered in skins and cute accessories you'd purchased. Some of them you'd gotten for free from Kenma though, who got sent free stuff all the time.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, a soft smile on his face. He pulled half of his hair back with a hair tie and followed you back to where he streamed his games, settling into the chair that all of his fans could recognize by now. “We can play Minecraft, if you want. I haven't gone on our world for a while, so we could both go on.” Kenma swiveled to look at you inquisitively, waiting for an answer.

You lazily waved a hand at him. “No! Today you’re supposed to stream, right? I just crashed your place so I don’t really have a say. You should record and then if you have time after we can play,” you insisted, sitting on the bean bag behind his gamer chair. “I’ll watch or maybe work on my own world.”

Kenma thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded, setting up his microphone and monitors. “Last chance,” he mumbled, then put his headset over his ears, blocking out everything else. You watched in the background with mild interest as he went through his usual monotonous introduction, one that his fans seemed to adore despite its lack of flair. Perhaps it was exactly that what made him so endearing to the internet. Smiling, you glanced back down to your Switch, and opened up Minecraft.

Setting your phone down for a second after replying to Atsumu, you called out lazily: "Oiiii, Kenma.” After a beat of silence and no response, you called again, "Kenmaaaa."

He had been just finished streaming, and pulled off his headphones. "Hm?"

You sat up excitedly, startling Kenma. "When I move, you should visit! Once I get settled in, at least."

He blinked, looking up at the ceiling as if calculating the pros and cons. "Too many bugs," he finally responded with a small grimace. "And it's gross and hot outside."

At that, you broke out into a laugh, the heartiest and most meaningful you’d had in a while. His particular comment wasn't even that funny, it was just- it was just so him. Was your sense of humor breaking? “Maybe I'll be able to change your mind," you mused. "We can even stream a video collab with the both of us- we should try Animal Crossing!" You clapped excitedly, beaming. "Kenma, let's do Animal Crossing once it comes out!”

He squinted his eyes, scooting away from you and your blinding enthusiasm. "Fine," he muttered, hunched over his phone now. He scrolled for a few minutes before speaking again. "Did you see that we're trending? On Twitter and YouTube." Kenma handed you his phone, stifling a small laugh into the collar of his sweatshirt as he sat back.

"I did," you snickered, laying his phone on the table and lying back on his bean bag chair. "My favorite response is the one about the Kodzuken simps," you said, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at Kenma and then cackling when he turned completely the other way from you. "Kenma, they're devastated!" You gasped dramatically and then draped an arm over your forehead, fainting.

He rolled his eyes at you, shaking his head. "Shut up, Y/N."

After your giggles died out, you saw him offering a controller to you. "Game night!" you cheered, accepting it and sitting up straighter. "We should get takeout!"

Kenma lifted a brow, as if to say why are you even telling me this? "Already on its way.”

The two of you chatted as you played Minecraft, Kenma being a little more open when his mind was preoccupied with gaming. He was, of course, much better than you, eyes glued to the TV screen which had been hooked up to the game console. "Has Kuroo told you who's going to the Olympics?"

You shook your head, then remembered that Kenma wasn't looking your way. "No," you replied slowly, focused on getting out of the water so you could escape the mobs that were chasing you. "But a few of the boys from Inarizaki are. As for Kuroo, I think he was going to say something, but I fell asleep last night. He said something about you and an advertisement, though?"

Kenma smiled, finally breaking his gaze with the screen and looking at you. "Hinata Shōyō from MSBY is collabing with me, to promote the 2020 Olympic games."

Your eyes lit up in recognition. "That's right! Atsumu is teammates with him. I haven't talked to him one-on-one, though. He seems sweet!"

Kenma turned his attention back to the TV, where he was almost done building a house. "He played volleyball in high school too. They beat Inarizaki his first year at Nationals."

You stopped to think, your hands stilling on the controller. Your breathing slowed. In your third year, Inarizaki hadn't progressed further into Nationals, like everyone predicted. Despite being assistant manager, you hadn't thought it would be a big deal to miss their first match in the competition; assistant managers weren’t even allowed on the actual court anyways. You had all thought you were going to get further. You had thought you would get to see your boys play one last time. You had thought you would get to see Kita lead his team to Nationals, as team captain.

You had missed out on that opportunity for signing a record deal.

Beside you, Kenma noticed how quiet you'd gotten but didn't comment, instead going to the door when the buzzer notified him of their takeout delivery. You picked at a loose string on your hoodie, remembering why you didn't often go to Kenma when in distress. While you knew he cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew that heart-to-heart conversations weren't his strong suit. When he returned a few moments later with your favorite foods, you pushed down the eruption of guilt and self-loathing with a bright smile. "Sorry, what were we saying? Something about Kuroo..." You strained to keep your eyes crinkled and happy.

Kenma's brow furrowed. "Kuroo-"

You interrupted him, and he let you. "Oh yeah! Kuroo and I are gonna hang out on Thursday! Wanna come? I'm leaving Saturday morning, so unless I see you before then, this will be the last time you see me before I leave for Hyōgo."

You watched his face run through a couple of emotions before settling on contemplation. Kenma blew a wisp of stray hair from his eyes and then begrudgingly: "Sure..."

This time, you gave him a true smile and clapped excitedly. "Yay! Should we try to get some of the others to join us? Lev? I want to be able to say goodbye to all of you in person, if possible." Then, swiping the plastic bag from Kenma, you opened the bag hurriedly and began pulling out things. "Here are the plates... and the chopsticks..." You set everything out and then let him load his plate with food first. Soon after, the two of you were back to playing Minecraft, squabbling over who got to use what equipment. After Kenma finally relented and let you have first pick, the both of you set out to fight the swarms of mobs gathered near your shared house.

"Hey, Y/N."

You had looked away for only a couple seconds, but you were blown up by a Creeper. "BITCH," you screeched, "I just fucking died?!"

Kenma snickered, running past your character and stealing everything you'd left behind. You gasped even louder. "BITCH-"

a/n: i said there weren’t going to be as many words as the last part but 🤡 also currently the fic is moving slowly and going day by day but it’ll pick up the pace soonish

taglist (pm me to ask to be added!): @papiibuprofen​ (i didn’t know if i should just respond to your ask publicly sksksk but i added you) 

some ~fun facts~

- y/n’s bodyguard/driver is named after ichiro, one of my fav baseball players

- his name in y/n’s contacts is “bonecrusher 👹” lmao��

- he is stoic but actually a softie; he’s about 30 and has a wife and one kid, both of whom he loves very much 

- i had kenma and y/n playing animal crossing instead of minecraft at first, then realized that it wouldn’t have been released yet, since this takes place in 2020... DAMN YOU TIMELINE

- do i have a map of hyōgo so i can write this fic? yes 💀

[j-pankratz]

Stuck in the Middle with You

A gift for the lovely @chubbykatsudon for the Novigrad Gift Exchange 2021!

Geraskefer, minor Lamden. 16507 Words. Can also be read here on ao3! Rated M for an abundance of cursing and deeply suggestive flirting! Tags for a small amount of canon typical violence, & a very big dog (Roach, my love)! Other tags include: Oh My God The Were Neighbors, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Idiots to Lovers, We're Really Running The Gamut Here, Going viral on TikTok, The best lease of all fucking time, apple juice, and ever changing groupchat names.

x

“A year! A full year. Two! THREE!”

“Hmm.��� Geralt muttered. In one hand above his head, he dangled the dead-though-still-writhing remains of a drowner. He’d stabbed it in the spine— nerve damage, unfortunate stuff. At his feet, the groveling man who’d gotten him into this mess in the first place. About 75% of the people he had to rescue from monsters, he found, were the rich sticking their noses places they oughtn’t, out of pure arrogance. This one, a landlord, apparently, had decided to wander off drunkenly from a party and go poking about the river.

He whimpered. “I— I’ll throw in maintenance! Please, Witcher, I—”

“Do you allow pets,” he asked dryly, “I need a place for Roach.” He gestured with his head to Roach, who was watching the thrashing drowner body with interest.

“Ah, no, we don’t—” Geralt dug his thumb into a wound in the deceased drowner’s neck, causing it to hiss and send out spittle. The kneeling landlord cried in fear.

“Yes! Yes! Fine, we can accept your dog, please, please Witcher I can’t die, I—”

“Deal,” Geralt said, and thrust his sword through the drowner once more, severing its head from its body. The man yelped as blood and assorted monster bits sprayed out. Geralt dropped the remnants of its head and neck to the ground, landing with a sickening splat, and the man wailed again.

“When’s move in?”

——

Move-in, as it turned out, was a week and a half later, the first of the month. It was a good apartment, better than he’d have ever rented for himself— a quiet street, an elevator, laundry in the basement, and a doorman half the time. Geralt had a view of the city from his bedroom and of the tree-lined street below from his brightly and naturally lit living room, while the second bedroom had a view of the apartment’s courtyard. The kitchen was a good size, though he didn’t cook much, and it had a dishwasher, which was worth its weight in gold. There was a corner shop at the end of the block, and a few restaurants, coffee shops, and bars within walking distance. Eskel and Coën would love visiting, at least, and if he got a decent enough couch and tv, Lambert would too. Not that they’d have much opportunity to visit, but he could have his dreams, few and minor as they were.

It was on the 8th floor, which was high enough to feel safe. There were only four apartments to a floor, which helped. Ultimately, he figured, nobody would really suspect a Witcher to live in a regular apartment building. And if anyone came after him, well, he’d deal with that then. With Ciri away at school, he would have less to stress about. He’d be subtle, wouldn’t tell people in the building he was a Witcher, wouldn’t talk much to anyone, would hope they wouldn’t notice his eyes. He’d wear sunglasses. It would be fine! This apartment was probably the second most favorable payment he’d ever had from a contract—the first of course, being Ciri— he wasn’t about to turn it down, or regret taking it.

Even when he was stuck in the elevator with, quite possibly, the most annoying man on earth.

Geralt was taking the last of his suitcases upstairs, which was really Roach’s suitcase, and a box of his cooking supplies— an embarrassingly small number of pots, pans, bowls, plates, and utensils. Just as the door was closing—

“WAIT! Hold that, hold that, if you’d please, fuck!”

A man with brown hair came barreling toward the elevator, just barely sticking his expensive looking brown leather shoe in the doors before they closed. They slid open with a soft ding, and the man, out of breath, tumbled inside.

He was tall, with a mop of brown hair and egregiously bright teal pants, a slightly lighter blue dress shirt tucked in to match. He heaved against the elevator walls, breathing heavily and eventually sinking down to a crouch to catch his breath.

“Good save,” Geralt said.

“Thank you,” the man said between gasps. “You saved my life.”

“I didn’t do anything."

The man waved his hand at the buttons. “Button. Button. You. Press. You pressed the— you know.”

“No I didn’t.”

The man paused, his breathing slowly going back to normal. “You didn’t—” He looked up at Geralt, his eyes a brilliant, piercing blue. He was frowning. “What do you mean you didn’t? You didn’t press the button?”

“Nope.”

The man came to standing, and Geralt found that the man wasn’t just tall, he was nearly Geralt’s height. “You mean to tell me, you see a man running for the elevator, screaming for you to hold the door, and instead you just— just stand there and watch?”

Geralt lifted his box a bit. “Got my hands full.”

“You have elbows! Two of them, might I add!” the man cut in before Geralt could lift the suitcase tucked into the crook of one arm. Instead, he shrugged.

“More fun to watch you run.”

“More fun to— I cannot believe this,” the man said, looking up at the floor numbers. The elevator continued to rise, and he suddenly groaned. “Ah, fuck, we’ve missed my floor,” he said, fumbling over to the buttons. Geralt frowned.

“We’re only on the fifth floor.” He watched the man press the button for the second floor. “You ran to the elevator… to go to the second floor?”

“I don’t like stairs!” he complained; Geralt could tell he’d had to give this explanation many times before.

“You like running more than stairs?”

“I would run toward convenience any day.”

“Mmm,” Geralt hummed softly.

They stood in silence for a moment. “Sorry, who are you? New neighbor, then?”

“Yep.”

“Do you have a name, or must I call you Mildly Rude Elevator Man? You wouldn’t be the first to earn a title from me. I don’t even know the woman’s name who lives in the Penthouse so now she’s just Penthouse Lady. But surely you have a name?”

Geralt smiled. “8b.”

“Oh, hilarious, 8b, alright, then I’m 2d. Lovely to meet you, 8b,” he said as the doors slid open to the 8th floor. “Do you need some help with those?”

“No,” Geralt said, and maneuvered himself out of the elevator carefully.

“Alright, fine then, if you say so, but I’m very helpful, actually, when I need to be. I have two hands, you know.”

“I’m sure,” Geralt grunted and approached his door. Fishing in his pocket for his keys for a moment, he found himself turned to the man in the elevator— 2d— and watched as his eyes grew wide as they fell on Geralt’s medallion, just as the elevator dinged and the doors began to slide closed. Well. Fuck.

“Wait— is that—” 2d’s eyes grew wide, and then a grin split across his face. “You’re a Witcher, aren’t you! Wait!” but the doors had already met, and the elevator began its descent.

Okay, so, subtlety gone, and given how chatty 2d had been, he figured it was only a matter of time before the entire building knew. That was the price for a free 3-year lease in a building far above his price range at the best of times, he supposed.

There was no way this would be worth it.

——

There were three days of peace, before 2d came knocking.

It was mid-afternoon, and in the living room the sunlight streamed through his new windows onto the small amount of furniture he’d arranged so far. Roach’s bed, his orange couch, a small tv, a chair, a barstool, a bookcase. Everything else was either still in boxes or simply not purchased yet— he’d never had need for it. He didn’t even know what to do with an apartment he could enjoy spending time in. The morning had been spent sitting on the couch, letting his coffee go cold as he looked around and tried to figure out what to do with this place he might actually be able to relax in. Until, of course, the knocking began.

He tried to ignore it, but 2d was persistent. After the 5th set of knocks, Geralt groggily rose from his chair, coffee in hand, and opened the door.

“Good morning! Hi, ah, hope you’re alright, settling in well?”

“What do you want.”

“Oh, glad to see you’re in a good mood,” 2d replied easily. His outfit was just as bright today, his pants a vibrant green with a mango pattern on them, his shirt a matching orange, with yellow cuffs, and a… oh, gods above, a guitar case strapped to his back, the leather strap running across his chest, hugging him closely. His clothes fit remarkably well, Geralt noticed, and then tried to promptly un-notice. But it was hard. 2d’s eyes looked especially blue today, which was bullshit. Geralt raised an eyebrow and hoped he wasn’t being obvious about anything, though it wasn’t as if Witchers let their faces be easily readable.

“Listen. You’re a Witcher. Very neat, very cool, I could smell the heroics and heartbreak on you in that elevator, I’m getting whiffs of it even now—”

“That’s sweat. Or coffee.”

“Well, okay, it’s not, but okay. My point here is, you have stories. And I write stories. Well, I write songs. Music. Poetry, art, etcetera. And I’m good, I promise I’m fairly decently good—”

“Was that you on Sunday singing the song about the… rabbit? And the moon?” He didn’t remember it well, but whoever was singing had definitely mentioned worms, as well.

“The… oh! Yes! Ah,” he cleared his throat and began. “But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon? Or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon? Right? Yes, love that one, it’s a fun one to sing at bars. Great warm-up song. Cosmo Sheldrake! Gotta love them, strange bastards. I should record that for TikTok, now that I think of it.”

“Sure.” The man’s singing voice was… light, airy, with something like a faint rasp in there, but he dipped down low into his register another was a whole new layer of sound there as well. It sounded like him, but it was somehow completely different than what Geralt would have expected the man’s singing voice to be like. “Cows don’t do that, though. And the references to beasts in your other songs were just as unrealistic. You shouldn’t be confusing people, monsters are serious business. Someone could get hurt.”

“Perfect!” 2d cried excitedly. “See! You know these things. I would like to learn these things. Think of it as educating the public, and helping out your great new friend Jaskier. Which, hello, I’m Jaskier. You’re Geralt, right? Of Rivia?”

Geralt shifted on his feet. It shouldn’t have surprised him. There were only so many witchers, let alone ones with long white hair and a wolf medallion. Damn internet. “And if I am?”

Jaskier’s wide grin turned sly. “Then I know for a fact you have stories.”

The witcher sighed. Well. He’d bore this man with his bad storytelling, and he’d get bored, and he’d leave. In the meantime, Geralt would get to look at 2d’s well-fitting clothes and shoulders that looked terrifically broad. It could be worse. There was a long pause.

“Fine. This once. But I’m not your friend.”

“Brilliant! Beautiful, fantastic,” Jaskier was saying, and slipped past Geralt and in to the apartment.

And then Roach barreled in.

“OH, HOLY FUCK!” Jaskier screamed in surprise, as the great Dane barked, getting right up to Jaskier before Geralt quieted her with a quick command. She plopped down at Jaskier’s feet obediently, and stared up at him with big, watery brown eyes. Jaskier’s hands were raised high above his head, and when he spoke, it came out as a raspy whisper.

“I did not know you had a dog. Have you always had this dog? Whose dog is this, this is your dog? How have I missed this. What’s his name?”

“Her name is Roach.”

“Her names Roach,” he repeated in the same horse whisper. “Why have you named your dog after an insect.”

“Can’t get rid of her,” Geralt replied, though he knew that made it sound like he didn’t absolutely adore her. The name had been a joke, and it had stuck, simple as that.

“Oh. Lovely. Okay. Will she eat me? She won’t eat me, right? This is a good dog, a good dog with manners?”

“She won’t eat you. Unless I tell her to.”

“Stop that!! Oh, stop that, oh my gods. Okay. Okay. Hello puppy. Nice, non-murdering puppy. Not a puppy. Good… large dog. Good large girl. You’re nice, aren’t you. You won’t kill me at all, not even a little bit.” He slowly let one hand come down to his side, and Roach surged forward to lick it. Jaskier yanked his hand back up and shut his eyes tightly.

“Okay. Maybe I should come back. At another time when I am more prepared for your non-murdering, not at all monstrous 4-foot tall dog.”

“She’s more like 2 1/2 feet tall.” Geralt cocked his head to the side. “Maybe three.”

“Fuck. Gods. Okay. Okay. Another day then! But definitely. I will want to hear these stories. Okay?”

“Sure,” Geralt agreed. This was more entertainment than he had expected today. He held back laughs, smiling while Jaskier’s eyes were still shut tightly. “Another day, then.”

“Okay. I’m backing out now, he said, and slowly began to do so, not turning away from Roach. She came to standing, and he jumped back at the sound of her nails against the tile floor of the kitchen, eyes still squeezed shut. “OKAY, OH, NO, okay doggie, no following me. No following. Thank you. Okay. I will. See you soon. Okay? Okay.”

And then Jaskier was out the door, and running down the stairwell. Geralt closed the door behind him, and turned to see Roach looking at him, her head cocked. He laughed, and bent down to pet her.

——

It took just over 24 hours for 2d— no, no, Jaskier— to come knocking once more. This time, Geralt answered the door more quickly; best to either get this over with, or get some more laughs out of it while he could. Behind the door stood Jaskier, mildly nervous looking, already glancing over Geralt’s shoulder into the apartment.

It was either a blessing or a curse that Jaskier’s outfit was not nearly as tight-fitting today, though the strap of his guitar case still cut close to his figure against his lavender sweater. In his arms, he held a variety of brand-new-looking dog toys; kongs and bones and pull-ropes and even some balls.

“Hi! Ah, this time, I’ve come prepared! With distractions and assurances your Roach will not eat me. If you’d still be available for relaying some stories?”

“…You bought her toys?”

“Ah…. maybe a bit? Well, yes, I certainly don’t have a dog, I just did some searching for what kind of things abnormally large dogs might enjoy and picked some up on a walk this morning. Nothing big.” Geralt looked again at the pile in Jaskier’s arms. He’d… bought toys. For Roach. Who he’d just met the day previously, and had scared him silly.

The more time he spent around Jaskier, the less he understood about the man.

Geralt took a step back and gave a whistle, and soon Roach was trotting in from his bedroom. He could smell the tension off Jaskier, and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “Try to relax. She’ll know if you’re stressed.”

“Right. No stress, just a dog who could swallow me whole. That’s fine, this is fine.”

“Put your hand out low, so she can sniff.”

After a bit of hesitation, Jaskier took a deep breath and did as he was told. “Friendly, Roach,” Geralt said as she sniffed loudly around Jaskier’s hand. And a moment later, she was licking his hand, sobering all over it. Jaskier laughed nervously, a light and airy sound Geralt found himself enjoying a bit too much. His smile was radiant, the relief in his broad shoulders palpable. He carefully moved his hand to give her a scratch on the cheek, and Roach leaned into it, pressing up against him, her tag wagging a mile a minute.

“Feel better?”

“Hmm? Oh! Yes, yes,” Jaskier said, pulling his attention away from Roach. “I’m really not usually scared of dogs. She’s just… very large, and was unexpected. But you’re a good girl, aren’t you? You’re not nearly as scary as you look! Just like your owner, isn’t that right.”

Geralt frowned. He knew he was frightening, there was no sense in denying it. He had frightened nearly every human he came across, at least in some small way. But even since Jaskier had realized he was a witcher, Geralt hadn’t smelled fear on him. Only just now, when he’d met Roach.

Again, he understood Jaskier less than before.

Geralt stepped back wordlessly and allowed Jaskier to step further into the apartment. He pulled out one of the balls tucked into the pile of toys in his arm and threw it further into the living room, and Roach excitedly ran after it, plopping down to chew on it next to her well-loved gray bed.

Jaskier followed, moving through the room like the breeze, before sitting on the couch, kicking his shoes off, and shoving his feet between the cushions.

“So! Where should we begin! Tales of your early days, your first forays with beasts? Your most recent victories? Epic quests?”

Geralt stared at Jaskier, an eye twitching. “Don’t— what are you doing?”

“Well, I figured we’d be here a while, might as well get comfortable!”

“On a stranger’s couch. A witcher’s couch.”

“On my new, good friend Geralt-The-Witcher’s couch! We’re hardly neighbors, we’re strangers! Wait, no, sorry, hardly strangers, we’re— where are you going?”

Geralt had turned and walked to his bedroom. He quietly shut the door behind him, walked to his bed, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it. He was good at controlling his emotions. He barely had them, after all, that’s what they said about witchers. But this man, this self-proclaimed friend was driving him to madness, and it had only been four days in the building. He briefly considered moving, abandoning the apartment entirely, giving it to someone else. Or perhaps throwing this Jaskier out the window. But none of those were worth the time, or the inevitable paperwork. He could kick Jaskier out, but he’d come back, he knew he would.

It was best to just be boring. Just be boring, refuse to tell the good stories, and tell the boring ones he did have, badly. Jaskier would get tired of it, take what he got, and discover there was nothing interesting or worth telling about witches. Who would want to hear songs about him, anyway? Humans, in large part, still thought witchers were monsters. It had gotten better the past few decades, but… not much.

He took a deep breath and pulled the over-worn pillow away from his face. Time to just get it over with, he supposed. Another deep breath and he returned to the living room, where Jaskier had pulled out a pad of paper, several pens, his guitar, a small bag of what looked to be popcorn, and three notebooks that looked completely filled already. Jaskier whipped around to see him and gave a big, toothy smile.

He was doing this, Geralt thought, just to get the writer out of his hair. No more, no less. It had absolutely nothing to do with anything else.

“Geralt! I am perfectly ready, and if you can’t think of where to start I have dozens of questions for you. Hundreds, really, so don’t worry about it at all! Sit down, sit down.”

“This is my house,” Geralt said, grabbing the only other chair and sitting a ways from Jaskier, “I should be inviting you to take a seat.”

“Well, that might be the case if you were an experienced host, but I get the feeling it’s not really your forte. Alright, ready to begin?”

“Did you notice how I didn’t invite you to take a seat?”

“I did, actually! Again, I can tell you’re not a natural at the hosting thing. Not to worry, I’m plenty comfortable now.” There was a glint in his eye that told Geralt he knew exactly what he was doing.

Geralt sighed, and fought off the thought that Jaskier was very, very lucky he was pretty.

A few hours later, Jaskier had gathered up his things, ready to head out. “Don’t worry, Geralt, you were plenty helpful. And our next session we will absolutely get to some… even more interesting stories, I’m sure we’ve only just barely scratched the surface.”

“What.”

Geralt had been as boring as he could possibly manage, giving only the barest of details. Jaskier had still seemed intrigued, still prodded. His eyes had been full of life and wonder at the smallest details, he’d taken fervent notes, he’d looked like an oil painting when the sun had begun to set and cast him in vibrant golds, showing off the warmth in his cheeks and the well-hidden but sharp lines of his body. This had nearly killed Geralt. And now Jaskier wanted to do it again?!

“Yes, of course, I’ll need to do some writing and then come back to you for more— really, I think I should just accompany you on your next contract, I think I’d get much more out of it— not to say you didn’t do wonderfully, dear, but I can hardly imagine that anything compares to the real thing.”

“No. Too dangerous.”

“I can keep out of the way!” Jaskier said, hefting the guitar case onto his back.

“You can’t, you won’t it wouldn’t matter if you could. No.”

“Oh, I’ll wear you down.” Geralt was deeply afraid that this was correct. “Gods, I should probably eat. What time is it? It’s not Thursday, is it? Is it Tuesday? Oh, I wonder if Posada’s is doing their wings night tonight. You’ve had them, right?” Geralt stared back blankly. “Geralt. Ohhhhh, Geralt, you cannot tell me you haven’t had Posada’s wings yet.” Geralt raised a single eyebrow.

“I’ve been here four days.”

“And what have you eaten!”

“…Food?” The real answer was anything that took less than 15 minutes to prepare, cook, and eat, but he wasn’t about to say that, was he? That’s not a thing you say to people.

“Ohhh, no, Geralt. No no no.” Jaskier shrugged off his Guitar case and whipped out his phone. “No, this is my treat. Oh fuck, it’s Thurs—no, nope, sorry, saw the T and got worried. It is in fact Tuesday, and it’s 7pm so we’re in the clear; we are in fact doing Posada’s wings deal. This is half the reason rent on this place is worth it— not that you have to worry about that. I mean, neither do I but, whatever. Sit down, I’ll order now. Wait, no, you get the plates, I’ll order, okay.”

Geralt stared blankly at Jaskier as he bustled through the apartment, around the unopened boxes and suitcases, the few pieces of furniture, all while on his phone, ordering takeout for the both of them. He seemed to be a natural at almost everything— except talking, somehow, which didn’t give Geralt much hope for his lyricism. But he flowed through the apartment like water, the lilt of his voice carried through the air like honeysuckle on a breeze.

(If you asked Geralt how Jaskier had managed to stay at his apartment from 1 in the afternoon until 10:30 in the evening, Geralt wouldn’t be able to tell you. It involved some toys for Roach, some terrible storytelling, and a wing deal that seemed like it should be financially devastating for Posada’s. And if you asked him at what point Jaskier had started feeling like, well, maybe one of the better things in his life, he would deny it was so early as a mere few days after they met.

He’d be lying, but he likely wouldn’t quite realize that.)

——

Contracts weren’t especially plentiful in the early spring like they had been in years past, but the ones that did crop up were often fairly big. Such was the one Geralt happened to find on a walk with Roach, a week later on a billboard outside the largest park in the city.

A Griffin’s nest. He could probably relocate them, if he had help. He didn’t like killing monsters when he could avoid it— and griffins weren’t horribly dangerous when left well enough alone. It wasn’t their fault society had branched outwards, into their natural habitats. They shouldn’t have to pay for the mistakes of humans.

Besides, he understood monsters more than people, half the time.

So, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, snapped a picture of the flyer. The chat was used so infrequently that he didn’t even bother to scroll for it, he just typed in the names with one hand, the other busy wrapped Roach’s leash. Slowly, the names appeared. ESKEL, LAMBERT, COËN.

He sends the picture with a short message; ‘Anyone in, or am I doing this myself’ before tucking the phone back in his pocket. Geralt had learned years ago to keep his phone on Do Not Disturb when on walks with Roach; it was his quiet time. If he didn’t have his walks with Roach, he would lose his mind. When he arrived back at the building, he checked the phone in the elevator.

24 Messages from GETTING LIT WITH CITY WITCHERS

Coën – Just now

I don’t think that’s how flamethrowers work??

And before he could even open up the messages, another notification popped up as he stepped out of the elevator;

25 Messages from GETTING LIT WITH CITY WITCHERS

Lambert – Just now

Fine ruin my dreams fuck

He smirked and put it away to let himself and Roach into the apartment. A turn of the key and he let go of the leash, Roach pushing the door open and bolting for the couch, rolling all over the orange cushions. Before Geralt stepped in, he heard the sound of music fluttering up from the second floor; this time, Jaskier was writing a new song, getting stuck on different chords and changing his idea on the words every few seconds. The stop and go nature of it should have bothered him, having to hear someone all the way from the second floor should bother him (why did Jaskier insist on having the windows constantly opened??) but instead, he found it… pleasant.

That could not possibly be good.

——

When the four returned back from the contract, they were bruised, had splinters in truly unspeakable places, and were covered in grime. But, four griffin eggs successfully relocated, a mother griffin tolerant of her new home, and a decent paycheck to split amongst the four of them. Roach, dirtiest of all of them, ran into the apartment first and rolled around on the cool tile of the kitchen. At least it wasn’t on the couch, Geralt supposed, as he led in his fellow witchers. His apartment had been the closest when they’d returned to the city, and he’d agreed to let them all crash.

“Geralt holy fuck,” Lambert said, sounding incredulous as he began to shed his armor. “This is ridiculous! I know you saved the landlord, but shirts, did you show him a good time too?! This is unbelievable.”

“Damn, Geralt. You did good,” Eskel agreed with a pat on his younger brother’s back.

“It’s really nice. You could use some… decoration, though,” Coën added. “Just, you know. Anything on the walls. Pictures, posters, something.”

“I just moved in. Do you guys want coffee?”

The three groaned, and Lambert flopped on the couch, sufficiently de-armored. “I want to sleep for a hundred years, Geralt. No I don’t want fucking coffee.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, and put up a pot.

“It’s 11pm,” Coën said blankly. “Do Wolves not sleep? Is this a thing? I thought it was only Cats who didn’t sleep.”

Lambert shifted carefully onto his side. His next words were said almost in rote, as though he’d heard someone else say them a thousand times before. “Cats sleep pretty soundly, they just don’t do it at night. They have better things to do."

Coën shrugged and headed for the bathroom, but Eskel and Geralt sent each other a look. Eskel’s eyes squinted a bit, and they slowly turned to look at Lambert, motionless on the couch. There was a long moment of silence, as they just stared at the youngest wolf.

“Where’d you learn that one, lil Lamb?” Eskel asked carefully. Geralt caught a whiff of anxiety emanating off his younger brother for a moment.

“What? Oh. Uh, yeah, I met a Cat. So what?” He turned to look at his brothers, and he frowned. “Hey! So what?! You have something to say?! I can make friends!”

“You get this defensive about all your friends?”

“Geralt I will throw your couch out the fucking window, I swear to God.”

“What’s your new pal’s name?” Eskel asked. “This buddy of yours. Your chum.”

“I fucking hate you both!” Lambert shouted, and buried his face in a pillow.

With the coffee done, Geralt poured himself a mug and sat down at the kitchen bar, watching Lambert toss around on the couch. Eskel settled into one of Geralt’s only other chairs, and sat back.

“Are you gonna tell us about him?”

“…I need to be fucked up for that,” Lambert muttered. Geralt gave a gesture with his head to Eskel, who rose and opened a cabinet in the closet to reveal two bottles of White Gull. Eskel barked a laugh.

Lambert groaned and let his head fall back against the cushion once more. “Fucking hate you guys. Give me one of those.”

x

This was not the first time the halls were muddy.

Over the past two and a half weeks, the floor of the lobby had often been tracked with mud. She had tried to ignore this. The annoying musician, (her mortal enemy on the second floor), had been particularly stuck on some new song that was both uninspired and going nowhere. She had tried to ignore this, as well. She’d ignored Jane on the fourth floor’s delivery fiasco, and the fact that Eiman from floor 6’s fire alarm had gone off in the middle of some careful brewing she’d been doing. She had even tried to ignore the barks of a large dog from the new tenant in what was supposed to be a strictly no-dog apartment building.

(It wasn’t that she cared about the rules, she couldn’t give a shit about rules. She just hated them being broken when it inconvenienced her.)

What she could not ignore, however, what had pushed her decidedly past her breaking point, was what sounded like a heard of grown men who had trampled through the lobby, made their way up the stairs, undoubtedly coating it with mud, and were now somewhere several floors below her, all the windows thrown open, one of them lamenting about some man who he was infatuated with.

It wasn’t even good gossip. It had stopped being good gossip an hour ago, when he’d become so drunk he’d just started repeating the same things about this man— Adam, or Adrien, or Aiden, or something like that— over and over and over again.

And they were doing all of this past quiet hours. Did she have insulated, noise cancelling windows, yes. Did she herself enjoy a good night in with friends, or even a party, sometimes past quiet hours? Of course. Had she occasionally made a mess in the lobby? Possibly.

But she’d cleaned up, taken responsibility, and not made it everyone else’s problem at 2am on a Wednesday night when she’d very much like to have the windows open for a fucking breeze.

This, Yennefer thought, was not what she paid rent on a Penthouse for.

She groaned, checked her phone, and turned her bedside light on with a wave of her hand. Hadn’t anyone told these poor bastards about the witch who lived in the Penthouse? She stared at the hour again; it was 2:06am. Did she want to deal with this now? Or did she want to save raining down unholy terror for a reasonable hour, and instead capitalize on time differences.

It wasn’t a difficult decision. She pressed a few buttons, and her video chat call began to ring. A few moments later, a smiling but confused looking Anica lit up her phone, adjusting her tortoiseshell glasses.

“Yennefer! It’s lovely to hear from you but… what time is it there?”

She groaned. “2am. Don’t remind me. New neighbors suck. Tell me something fun you’re working on.”

Anica smiled. “Oh, if you want something fun, you’ve come at exactly the right moment. This week Sabrina’s here, and we’re working on a warding charm against fungi in gardens— I figure we could likely scale it up to fields, but I want to have things worked out just right before we move on….”

Yennefer smiled as her friend went on, and tried not to wince every time she heard a faint wail come from several floors beneath her.

x

“And— he sucks. Like, he’s fucking. Sly, and cocky and shit. Where does he get off being all—” 3 hours after he had begun, the deeply drunken Lambert was still talking, gesturing wildly in front of them. “—You know?! It’s no v’y thoughtful.” He drifted into silence once more, while Coën, Eskel, and Geralt just nodded. Most of what that had gathered was that Lambert’s overwhelming crush on this mysterious Cat Witcher, Aiden, had hit him like a truck a year or so back and he still hadn’t made a move. Which meant he was serious about this one.

Coën opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. There wasn’t much to say— Lambert was a goner. He hadn’t quite fallen asleep yet, so far as Geralt could tell from the rise and fall of his chest, but he was getting there. Eskel slowly began to stand up and collect the empty bottle of White Gull they’d finished. Suddenly, Lambert’s eyes flew open, and he careened forward, arms waving wildly. “AND HIS HAIR?! I fucking hate him! He’s awful. He’s so fucking hot and I hate everything. He sucks. How do I get him to sleep with me?!”

Eskel sat down again with a sigh.

x

“Wait. Geralt, you went on a contract without me?! After I specifically asked to go?! Geralt!” Jaskier huffed, his tub of sesame chicken nearly spilling. The nature documentary in front of them hummed along, though neither payed it much mind. They never did, really.

“Griffin nests are too dangerous,” Geralt said around a bite of noodles. Jaskier’s presence in his life could be described with many negative adjectives, but he had to admit, he was better fed when the musician was around. “Besides, that was two weeks ago now. You’re behind.”

“All the more offensive that I’m just hearing about it now!”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “You going to come watch me deal with these Wyverns, or not?” He might as well just let Jaskier tag along for something small. Maybe he wouldn’t be a disaster, and then he’d stop pestering Geralt for stories he didn’t want to tell, much less be broadcast to the entire world. Unfortunately, he was beginning to admit to himself that he rather enjoyed Jaskier’s company, but that was all the more reason to cut him out of his life, wasn’t it? He was too big of a liability.

Jaskier had started helping to brighten up Geralt’s apartment, both figuratively and literally. There were now some framed pictures on the wall, as well bright takeout menus (“At least it’s something, Geralt, you need color in your life!”) and even a plant hanging by the window, which was thankfully fake. When Jaskier was around, everything seemed to fit well enough.

When he wasn’t though, the living room was discordant, this wall decor was now big and bold in places and nothing matched, and very few things were things he’d pick out himself. When he saw it in the mornings, he often sighed and shook his head, and tried not to think about it too much, or who had put it there.

He tried really quite hard not to think about Jaskier very much at all, but he was over nearly every day now. It was hard not to.

If Geralt had also finally bought himself a sturdy bedframe, bedside tables, and good sheets for himself, well, that had nothing to do with Jaskier at all. It’s not like Jaskier would ever see it, after all.

“Fine,” Jaskier replied after some internal debate, “But I want to see griffins, someday.”

“Mmm. Look them up, if you’re so keen on seeing one.”

“It’s not the same! Do you think it’s the same?! Ugh.”

“So, you’re coming?”

“Of course I’m coming! What sort of question is that? When do we leave? What should I bring? Ooo, what do I wear?!”

Geralt sighed deeply. “Don’t wear anything baggy, or bright, or anything that will make much sound. Don’t bring anything. Your phone, but only for if you get lost. Do NOT get lost. We leave here tomorrow at 5am.”

Jaskier choked on a piece of chicken. “Five a— Geralt, we cannot possibly leave here at 5am. Why! God, the things I do for music. How non-vibrant do my clothes have to be? Does a sort of forest-y green work? Do I have to wear camouflage? Please say no. You’re already severely limiting my wardrobe options, please don’t also make me commit fashion crimes.”

“Jaskier, you’re not going anywhere where you have to… impress people. You’re watching me catch, tag, and release a wyvern outside the city. That’s it.”

“I think the Wyverns deserve a good outfit! Besides, this is my first hunt! Our first big outing! I want to mark the occasion, but you and your rules prevent me. Frankly, I’m hurt.”

“Would you rather get eaten?”

“At least I’d leave a handsome corpse!” Geralt chuckled, and took a swig of beer as Jaskier swallowed thickly and continued. “But, ah, no, I’d really prefer to avoid death and injury as much as possible. Really. Truly. Not a masochist. Which surprises some people, weirdly. Do I give off a vibe? Geralt, do I give off vibes? I don’t give off any vibes, right?”

The biggest benefit of having Jaskier around, Geralt found, was that he could tease to his heart’s content, and Jaskier wouldn’t realize until Geralt had gotten a good laugh out of it.

Geralt nodded. “I can see that. There are definitely vibes.”

Jaskier gaped, and then stuttered in response. “I—you—no! That’s—there is no way—how—and what do—what’s—abs—there—I—you—that is not—!”

If Geralt could fight off his smirk a little longer, he’d get to watch Jaskier fumble for at least another minute… and it would take his mind off of trying not to picture Jaskier on his bed, pale skin and dark chest hair fully revealed, arching his back while Geralt indulged him in some fictional, masochistic tendencies. No, couldn’t think about that. Not realistic, anyway.

And then the image flipped, now with Jaskier above him, gazing down lovingly, raking his nails against Geralt’s exposed chest…

“I—the—Geralt! I thought we were friends!!”

Geralt shook it off. Not realistic.

——

The contract was supposed to be for the removal of a particularly pesky wyvern, who’d made a habit of sleeping on the top of a high rise on the other side of town, occasionally swooping down on unsuspecting residents on their balconies. Recently, it’d nabbed a little girl’s doll, which shouldn’t have tugged on his heartstrings, but after Ciri had come into his life, all bets were off. So, a nasty wyvern, somewhere it shouldn’t, who needed to be returned to a suitable habitat and tagged for tracking purposes. It had happened before, there was nothing suspicious about the contract.

Unfortunately, things were rarely so cut and dry in Geralt’s world.

It was 7 o’clock before Geralt and Jaskier finally dragged themselves back to their building; muddy, grimy and tracking it all through the lobby. Geralt’s chest was somehow still sore from being thwacked by a steel baseball bat. The contract had been a sham, and he and Jaskier had been… detained, Geralt would say, kidnapped being too strong a word, by some idiots who wanted to prove they could best a witcher. He’d hoped they’d mostly left violent displays of superiority back a few decades ago, but humans never failed to live up to the worst of themselves, he thought bitterly.

If they woke up from their concussions, hanging upside down from some pipes in the basement they’d chosen for their assault, Geralt was fairly sure they wouldn’t bother with witchers again.

“So, this was a less dangerous one, mm?” Jaskier asked groggily as they piled into the elevator. “Wanna come to mine? I feel like I’m five minutes from sleep.”

Geralt shrugged. He hadn’t actually seen Jaskier’s apartment. Not that he wanted to, of course. Jaskier mashed his finger into the button for the second floor, swaying on his feet. He slumped against one of the walls and let his eyes fall closed, and Geralt found it hard not to stare. His dark green shirt was ripped, exposing some pale skin and shallow cuts and bruises he’d received. His pants were filthy, and his face was still covered in grime, while bits of his hair stuck out at odd angles. Small prices to pay for making it out alive.

In fact, Jaskier had put up much more of a fight than he’d been expecting. He wasn’t a trained fighter by any means but he’d made himself more than useful. Geralt might not have made it out without his quick thinking—a phone flashlight to the eyes of their assailants, a kick to the back of the knee of another, biting the wrist of a third when it shot past his face, as he had lunged for Geralt. Jaskier had been damn near feral. Adrenaline, Geralt supposed. Hell of a drug.

Witchers felt adrenaline too, though it was different. Similar enough, though, that he was sure his overwhelming fear of seeing Jaskier hurt, how he’d screamed at their captors to let Jaskier go, how he’d been a second away from ending them in retaliation before he’d realized how far he’d gone, yes, he was sure that all of that was nothing more than adrenaline. Even if it had only kicked in when he realized Jaskier was in danger, rather than just himself, rather than when they’d spat obscenities at him. It had been when Jaskier had spat at them, called them bastards, and earned a kick in the stomach for it.

The elevator was silent as the doors slid shut.

“Do people always look at you like that?”

“You mean with a dagger in their hands?”

Jaskier frowned, chin still tipped toward the sky, arms folded close to his chest, eye lazily shut.

“No. I figure you wouldn’t have brought me, if that happened very often. But they were so…” he shook his head. “They were fucking hateful. They were monsters.”

Geralt huffed a laugh. “Monsters chasing a monster.”

“No, you’re not. Hey. Geralt. No, you’re not.” Jaskier had opened his eyes and waited Geralt to meet them. The witcher looked away as the doors slid open. “You’re not a fucking monster, I don’t care what they say. I know you by now.”

“Just open the door.”

Jaskier sighed and shuffled over to his door, opening it after a bit of a fumble with the keys.

The layout of his apartment was different, Geralt noticed—the front door let out into the living room, not the kitchen, and his bathroom was on the left, not the right. It seemed like there was only one bedroom, and his main window looked out over the cityscape. But it was, predictably, the décor that stood out the most.

Jaskier had lined his ceiling molding with little lights, and as they entered, they flicked on, drifting smoothly between all colors of the rainbow. The place itself was messy, notebooks strewn about everywhere, cords coming out of various outlets without rhyme or reason, cups and plates scattered about. Geralt spotted what he thought might have been pants in one corner, but he chose not to look so hard. Jaskier flicked on the light switch, and Geralt could see how bright and colorful Jaskier had made his home—it worked somehow, though it seemed as though if a single piece were removed it would look wrong, somehow.

His instruments all looked remarkably well-kept, though. They hung on the wall in specialized mounts; two guitars, a violin, some other string instruments Geralt didn’t recognize. There was a small black case maybe holding a wind instrument sitting next to a rather impressive-looking keyboard, and the table where they sat was the only tidy area in the apartment, so far as he could see. Of course, he hadn’t seen Jaskier’s bedroom. Yet. Not that he would want to, of course. Or ever have cause to.

Jaskier plopped down on a vibrant green velvet chair and waved one hand at the room, the other covering his eyes. “Sorry for the mess. You can sit anywhere. Oh, wait, there’s cider in the fridge, would you mind? Second shelf. And don’t laugh at me for drinking cider.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I know it’s too sweet. I get it. But if you drink beer or wine every night it gets boring. And if I ever grew bored of alcohol, I’d be devastated.”

“Won’t disagree with you,” Geralt muttered as he returned to the living room with a 6-pack. He sat down on the couch and opened the bottles, handing one to Jaskier. They drank in silence, and Geralt tried to get comfortable on the overly plush blue couch.

“Sorry you got dragged in—”

“No, no, stop that. I asked to come. Specifically. You had no way of knowing. Besides, I’d rather be with you to deal with that, instead of you… oh, disappearing to your apartment for days and not answering me.”

Mm. He’d done that, once or twice. Maybe three times. “Sorry.”

“Geralt. It’s fine. It’s their fault. You did nothing wrong, you were just trying to help.”

“Mm.”

They drank in silence for a bit. The cider was, in fact, too sweet, but it suited Jaskier. Geralt find he didn’t mind it much as he should have. He tried not to think of kissing it off his lips.

Jaskier gave a snort in the silence. Geralt looked over and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, it’s just—got any other enemies I should know about?”

Geralt smiled and leaned back. “Mm. A few. Lot of humans.”

“Right, just, in general. Alright, so just ‘most humans’, got it. Next?”

“Monsters. Don’t know why, they just don’t like me.”

Jaskier laughed. “How unfair of them! They ought to give you a chance. Anyone else?”

“Mmm… some other witchers. None from my school, though. Definitely some mages.”

“Oh, fuck mages,” Jaskier said.

“Don’t fuck mages,” Geralt teased, “It won’t end well.”

“Ugh. Trust me, I know.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows until Jaskier looked at him and groaned. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve only done it a few times, and I’ve sworn off them.” He finished his cider and reached for another.

“Do you have any enemies I should know about, Jaskier?”

“Valdo fucking Marx,” Jaskier spat immediately, kicking his legs up on the table. “Garbage. Absolute garbage. Stole my work at Oxenfurt. Deeply fucked up man. I want him dead. Not in a, ‘I’d hire someone to kill him’ way, but in a, ‘if he died in an untimely and horrific way tomorrow, I would spend the weekend celebrating’ way. Shouldn’t say untimely. His death will absolutely timely, whenever it comes. Really, maybe untimely because it’ll be late. Hmph.”

Geralt nodded, kicking his feet up as well. “Anyone else?”

“Mmm, no. Oh! Well, Penthouse Lady, or as I like to call her, The Bitch of the 13th Floor. She’s a mage, you know.”

Geralt stared at Jaskier. “Oh, no, no, don’t think like that. That is decidedly not one of the mages I was speaking about. No, Penthouse Lady is just… I mean, gorgeous, but evil. Extremely, wickedly beautiful, which should be a crime. She will take your clothes out of the washing machine, wet, just because you’ve left them there a bit too long. A minute. 35 seconds, minutes, whatever, really. And if you break one of the building rules and catch her in a bad mood, she will eviscerate you. She’s made people move out before, out of pure terror.”

“But not you?”

“No! No, I’m not leaving. She’s can’t make me. We’ve been mortal enemies for years now, that’s a commitment.”

Geralt laughed. “How do you afford to live here, anyway? You haven’t got a job.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said, lowering his cider with a smile, “How dare you. You have no idea. I could be employed. I could have several jobs, you don’t know.”

“Jaskier, I met you at 3pm on a Monday. You come over at all hours of the day. You are rarely doing anything one could describe as ‘work’.”

“Alright, alright, I get it. It’s a… parents thing. And grandparents. Whole family, really. Ever been to Lettenhove?” Geralt thought a bit, and then nodded—it had been awhile. “Yep. That’s us. Earls and whatnot. Technically, I’m a viscount, but I prefer the title ‘Family Disappointment’. More accurate.”

Geralt pushed Jaskier’s foot with his own. “Stop that.”

“No, it’s not—it’s not a bad thing, to disappoint those people. You know? If I’m disappointing them, I’m doing something right. Besides, they keep throwing money at me in hopes that it’ll change something. Which, you know. I’ll take it.” They sat quietly for a moment. “I have been published, to be fair. And I do go out to sing at bars on Thursdays and Saturdays. I have some followers on Spotify, TikTok and what have you. I’m not nothing. It’s just not up to their standards. ‘S why I have a pen name in the first place.”

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked, and his friend nodded. “It’s a good name.”

“Why thank you.” There was quiet for a moment. “You know what they named me? Julian Alfred Pankratz. What a name. That’s the thing, with them, and their traditions—I’ve got two other people’s names, and none of my own. ‘S why I picked one for myself.”

“Mm,” Geralt said softly. Jaskier hadn’t ever said much about himself, now that he thought of it. Might as well take the plunge. “Don’t know what my surname was. Just have Geralt. Witchers are left to their schools and made to pick their own names. Picked Rivia out of a hat, essentially.”

Jaskier looked at him oddly, before raising his bottle. “To families that don’t know what they’re missing,” he said softly, and Geralt clinked their bottles together, the sound short and sweet.

——

A few hours and ciders later, Jaskier had slipped asleep, chest rising and falling gently. It hadn’t been a hard call for Geralt to make; he’d slipped Jaskier’s shoes off and carried him to his bedroom, laying him down on the bed, maneuvering him under the sheets. The bedroom was subtler than his living room—a cream color, beautiful loose paintings and sketches on the walls of flowers, hung up with tape, and dozens of pictures; some framed, some loose polaroids hanging on strings, all of friends and places he must have travelled. His oval mirror had sticky notes around the edges—what looked like scraps of songs, chord progressions, passwords, dates to remember, and a small note of encouragement to himself— ‘Keep Going!!’

Geralt smiled, found an unused sticky note, and grabbed a pen. When he was done, he smiled to himself, and put it just below the ‘Keep Going’ note.

After leaving a glass of water on his bedside table, Geralt slipped out of Jaskier’s apartment taking the elevator up. When the doors slid closed, he took out his phone.

4 Messages from CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT A DATE (ES….)

Lambert – 48 minutes ago

God, this shit should NOT be so hard.

To: CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT A DATE (ESKEL, LAMBERT, COËN)

Message: yeah, I feel you

He slipped it away, and hoped nobody would question it in the morning.

x

Yennefer stretched, sun hitting her eyes, and sucked in a lungful of the breeze coming through the window. It was… nice. Pleasant.

Boring.

She took out her phone.

To: Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Message: Who wants to go clubbing this weekend. I’m bored. Also Sabrina I know you’re 200 miles away w Anica don’t be snarky

She rose and began to stretch, sparing only a glance when her phone dinged.

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Sabrina – Just Now

Sure count me in. I’d love that. Woohoo

She rolled her eyes and smiled, ignoring that her friend should absolutely still be asleep, given the time difference.

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Coral Lytta– Just Now

I’m down for a barhop at least but only if we’re coordinating outfits I’m begging you I don’t want a repeat of last month!!

Yennefer finished her stretches and flicked her hand to start the coffee pot in the kitchen. She needed a change of pace. Things had gotten too predictable. Maybe she’d take someone home, that would be fun. She checked her phone again.

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Fringilla – 7 minutes ago

Why is anyone awake??? Go back to sleep

To: Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Message: Frin it’s 7am. This is a normal hour.

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Fringilla – Just Now

Not on my day off it’s not

She sighed. Okay, maybe they wouldn’t end up clubbing, not given everyone’s moods this week. But at least she’d get out of the apartment, and maybe get someone else into bed.

x

9:37am

Thursday, March 12th

2 Messages from Jaskier

Just now

Oh, and the note, I’m just seeing this now. “Reminder: Don’t Fuck Mages.” Thanks, Geralt, what would I do without you? My witcher in… slightly muddy armor, last I checked. ;)

7 Messages from CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT A DATE

Eskel – 19 minutes ago

“YEAH I FEEL YOU??” GERALT????? (sent with Echo)

NEWS

New Novigrad Times – 2 hours ago

Three men suspected of breaking and entering, larceny, and assault found suspended upside-down in a residential downtown building. This story is will be updated as new information is revealed.

14 more notifications

x

The next afternoon, he heard it while on a walk with Roach, and tried to brush it off. A voice sounding suspiciously like Jaskier’s was emanating from some teenager’s cell phone. “Oh Valley of Plenty, Oh-” the voice sang, before he tuned it out. It was deeply unlikely it was Jaskier. Something in seeing him asleep a few nights before must have poisoned Geralt’s brain.

He heard snatches of it, though, everywhere he went.

Toss a—

They came after me , with masterful—

Brings you to mourn—

That’s my epic tale—

It drove him mad, but he shook it off every time. What was the likelihood of it being Jaskier, anyway?

It’s in the lobby, where he realized. The doorman, Sonny, was swiping through his phone as Geralt checked his mailbox. When he turned back around—

With Geralt of Rivia, along came this song…

Geralt grimaced. “Fuck.”

When he returned to his apartment, he found a sticky note waiting on the door for him.

If you track mud into this building one more

time, I will make you kneel and fix it yourself.

All the best, ~Penthouse.

x

Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Coral Lytta – 17 minutes ago

Yen! Isn’t this your ~enemy~??? That guy from the second floor who takes like 3 hours with laundry?? http://vm.tiktok…

——

Jaskier -- 15 minutes ago

So. I may have gone viral,

——

To: Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Message: How the hell does this have 700 thousand likes already? It was only posted today

——

Jaskier -- 5 minutes ago

This is a good thing though, right??? Is this the wrong time to invite you to see me perform tomorrow night

Ciri -- Just Now

Hey uh??? Dad??? I think someone wrote a song about you???

——

Anica -- Just Now

Yennefer, I am so so sorry, but I already have it stuck in my head. I’ve only watched it twice now I swear

——

8 Messages from CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT (AND GERALT) DATES

Lambert – 1 minute ago

Literally how the fuck does this happen to you

Jaskier -- Just Now

Hey that rhymed!!

x

Jaskier had told him not to stress about what to wear, that he could just ‘sit in the corner and brood’ and that ‘nobody would recognize him’, but nothing about this felt like a good idea to Geralt. Is this what having friends was? Going to places he didn’t want to be, at times he didn’t want to be there, just to make someone else happy? It was terrible, and frankly, he wanted a refund.

Geralt slipped into the bar a few hours before Jaskier was slated to go on—just to get a booth decently near the stage where nobody would bother him. He didn’t care about seeing Jaskier warm up. He was on stage, tuning his instrument that wasn’t quite a guitar—either a mandolin or a lute, Geralt thought. He was listening for something, adjusting things, getting a feel of the space. His brows were furrowed and he looked to be deep in thought. Not wanting to bother him, Geralt bought whatever was on tap (some earthy beer he would tolerate for the evening) and slipped into a booth near the stage, far enough out of the light so that he wouldn’t be noticed easily by people.

He sat, watching Jaskier, letting his eyes wander down his teal and red ensemble. The pants were a tight fit, but the shirt was airy, unbuttoned a bit more than might be decent, and Geralt found himself mentally unbuttoning more, and more, and more, until his eyes flashed up and made contact with Jaskier’s.

The musician lit up like the sun, a wide beaming smile, and he quickly hopped down from the stage. “Geralt! You made it! And early, too! Oh, I’m so glad. Okay, I’m 3rd up, so you will have to sit through some other people, but not too many. I’ll join you when I’m done! You’ll enjoy it. Well, I don’t think you’ll love it, but you’ll probably tolerate it for your dear dear friend, who is slowly but surely making you famous. Right? Okay!”

“You’ll be fine,” Geralt said. He knew Jaskier’s nervous energy speeches by now.

“What? Oh.” Some tension in Jaskier’s shoulders loosened. “Thank you. I just haven’t been on a stage since suddenly so many people know my face. I did post about this, but I don’t think very many people will come. Maybe I shouldn’t have? I dunno. Still navigating fame! Alright, I should get back. I’ll see you soon!”

x

“I’m making an executive decision,” Fringilla said, turning on her heel. They’d been walking for 45 minutes, trying to decide on a bar. “We’re going here. We are too damn old to be spending half the night walking around.”

“Fine,” Yennefer relented, taking Coral’s arm, “but if it sucks we’re going out again tomorrow and it’s my pick.”

The three entered the bar, a dimly lit place, mostly wooden and already fairly active with people bustling about, a stage in the back looking ready for a musician.

“Oh, I love live music, yes! You get us a table near the stage and I’ll get the drinks,” Coral said; “Dry Martini and a Whiskey Sour?”

“You know us so well,” Fringilla said, and she and Yennefer left to find a table. They ended up at a booth egregiously close to the stage, in Yennefer’s opinion. They got comfortable, settling in for the night, most likely. Until one of them found someone to go home with, at least.

When Yennefer looked up, it was to a tidal wave of people entering.

It wasn’t to say the place wasn’t busy before, but soon she could barely see the bar, as giddy looking patrons took up tables and booths, and eventually, just whatever standing room they could find. Coral managed to cut through the crowd, levitating the three drinks, looking frazzled. “When did all these people get here?!”

“No idea,” Fringilla said, reaching for her Whiskey Sour, “but I’m glad we’ll at least be able to see.”

“Mm,” Yennefer agreed, grabbing her Martini, raking her eyes over the crown. Options, she thought. It was always so good to have options.

“Any idea who’s performing tonight?” Coral asked. “I couldn’t find a poster or anything that said—probably someone good, for all these people to be here”

“No idea,” Yennefer replied absentmindedly. It’s not like it mattered. She couldn’t imagine herself giving much of a shit about who was on stage, anyway.

x

The first performer was fine. Geralt thought they were a little boring, but they weren’t who he was there to see, anyway. Yennefer couldn’t be bothered, staring instead at a handsome young woman in a low-cut satin dress. When she finally made eye contact, though, she gave a friendly, decidedly not flirtatious smile, and Yennefer moved on.

The second performer, a kind of musical comedian, was pretty good. She capitalized off of the energy in the room, which Geralt had to admit was palpable. As soon as people had flooded in, he’d made a point to look intimidating—much as it had prevented people from sitting at his booth, it hadn’t stopped them from buzzing around the bar, and he realized they must be there for Jaskier. It put a pit in his stomach, but also made something in his chest whizz around in joy. Ah, fuck.

And then, up was Jaskier. The announcer welcomed him on stage, and Jaskier bounced on, to the warmest welcome thus far.

“Gooooood evening everyone, lovely to see you all. And I do mean all. How many people are here? There are at least…” he counted for a moment. “At least 12. Possibly more.” He got a laugh, and winked at someone in the middle of the audience as he sat down on a stool in front of the mic.

“I cannot fucking believe this,” Yennefer groaned quietly. Fringilla patted her on the back. “There, there. Maybe he’ll be terrible.”

Jaskier hummed softly, warming up his voice. No, Yennefer though, he wouldn’t be terrible, because unfortunately, he was quite fucking good.

His first song was another one that had also blown up after his sudden viral-ness of the past week, an original he’d told Geralt he’d written in university, and never stopped being proud of. Geralt smiled into his second drink of the night, enjoying watching Jaskier get comfortable on the stage.

His second song finished to applause and cheers, and Jaskier got up to bow, pushing the stool far behind him with his foot. Yennefer put a fist in her hair. Unfortunately, her mortal enemy was fucking magnetic.

“Freak him out, like you said you do,” Coral whispered to her. Yennefer frowned, but nodded soon after. At least she could make this fun for herself.

Jaskier grabbed the mic and moved it off to the side of the stage, throwing some smiles to people who had their phone out, before stopping and speaking into it when the crowd had quieted a bit.

“Hey,” Jaskier said gently, his voice commanding the bar, as he looked out into the crowd. He found Geralt’s face, and beamed at him, before turning back to the sea of people. “Is uh… is anyone here on TikTok?” The crowd cheered and he launched into Toss a Coin, forgoing the stool entirely, choosing to dance around the stage.

To Geralt’s complete mortification, at the top of the first chorus Jaskier suddenly pointed to him. “Toss a coin to your witcher, Oh valley of plenty, oh!”

By the third chorus, Geralt had been sufficiently pummeled with coins, bills, and what looked like a gift card to a café, when Jaskier tipped back his head to the other side of the stage. Yennefer was sitting back, arms folded, a single eyebrow raised, flanked by Fringilla and Coral on either side, looking expectant of the musician, mimicking their friend’s pose. Yennefer thought she was fighting off her smirk, but it was hard to say. Her eyes met his, and for a brief, brief moment his smile faltered, before he let out a cackle, continuing to play. The audience ate out of his hand, and he seemed to grow more and more at ease, preening at the attention.

“It was worth a shot,” Fringilla said with a huff of laughter and a shake of her head, returning to her glass. “He’s really got something, hate to admit.”

When the song finished, he took a deep bow to riotous applause and caught a coin someone threw to him, tucking it in his pocket.

Behind him, a witcher and a mage made eye contact for the first time; gold met violet, and the air between them seemed to electrify.

“I think we’re on our own for tonight, Coral,” Fringilla said with eyebrows raised, watching her friend stare across the room, and Coral giggled in response. Yennefer made a point to use a fraction of her chaos to stir her martini from afar, so this man knew what he might be getting into.

“Thank you, thank you all. I think we have time for one more quick song. And I do hope you’ll give our next artist after the break the same amount of attention, as a personal favor to me,” Jaskier said, getting some laughs, and tuned his instrument for a moment before speaking again. “You’ve been a dream. Really, truly, thank you. I fully expect this kind of turn out every week, though, so cancel all your other Saturday night plans for the next, oh, 7 to 8 years.”

A smattering of laughter again from the audience, and then Jaskier was starting Fishmonger's Daughter, a song Geralt had deemed dirty enough to ignore the lyrics of. He looked away from the woman, clearly a mage, across the stage from him—she was gorgeous, long black hair and bright violet eyes. She was flanked by two other women in similar deep velvet dresses—the first a rosy pink, the third a midnight blue, while the woman’s he’d locked eyes with was pitch black, matching a choker around her neck. She tilted her head to expose more soft tan skin, examining him from afar as she stirred her drink with magic, graceful and languid.

Do not fuck mages. Do not fuck mages. Do not fuck mages.

He sat back in his chair, and suddenly realized that Jaskier’s set had ended; his friend was bowing, and then disappeared off the stage in favor of the announcer. The bar was buzzing, people milling around, and then Jaskier, blue eyes gleaming, cheeks flushed, smile stretched from ear to ear, was sitting in front of him.

“Geralt! Was it good? Give me your thoughts.”

“Not bad,” Geralt said with a smile, and a pat on his friend’s shoulder. Was it too much? He gave it a small squeeze, and something small in Jaskier’s face changed. He looked up and down Geralt’s face, and suddenly the witcher realized how close they were, that Jaskier was licking his lips, that he hadn’t taken his hand off his shoulder, that the world had disappeared around them. His gaze dropped for a moment to Jaskier’s lips. He could smell arousal, and excitement, and happiness, but he was in a bar, there was too much to take in, no way to know for sure it was coming from Jaskier. He held his breath, and met Jaskier’s eyes again.

His phone rang.

They kept staring.

Another ring, and someone tapped on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“I should—you get that, Geralt, I’ll be a moment, just ah, have to say hello to the adoring public, I’ll be back!”

Geralt let his witcher-slow heartbeat a few more times, dazed, before looking down at his phone to see Lambert was calling. He answered, putting a finger in his other ear.

“Geralt!” Lambert hissed. Geralt could barely hear him over the noise of the bar. “Geralt! Have you seen the group chat?!”

“No. Speak louder, I can barely hear you.”

“I can’t! He’s in my apartment, Geralt! What the fuck do I do! He brought booze! He looks fucking fancy!”

Geralt frowned. “Are you on a date?”

“Not that I’m fucking aware of!”

Geralt frowned deeper. “It sounds like you’re on a date.”

“We can’t be on a date! He just asked if I wanted to do dinner! That’s not a date!”

“It can be. Clearly is. Just—take him out somewhere.”

“Fucking WHERE, Geralt!”

“Don’t you have a sushi place around the corner? Do that. Or somewhere else. Doesn’t matter, just wear something decent and go.”

“How the fuck—” Lambert was asking when Geralt hung up. He looked at his phone screen—98 unread messages from the clowns. He shook his head and looked up—Jaskier was peacocking around the bar, flirting with everyone who seemed receptive. He was a natural, winding his way through the crowd, making them all feel special. Someone was buying him a drink, and it looked like he was already part of the way through another. He delighted over everyone, taking selfies, accepting compliments, giving them in return to appreciative and giddy smiles.

That was how Jaskier was, Geralt thought. With everyone. Little moments didn’t necessarily mean anything.

He turned back to look at the sorceress across from him. Her companions had left her, disappearing into the crowd for more drinks, perhaps. She was playing with something on her table, and glanced up to see him staring. She smirked, picked up the small object, and began to levitate it over to him.

Geralt watched as through the crowd, over the stage, the object floated over to him.

When it finally arrived at his table, Geralt watched as a small coin was dropped neatly in front of him, giving a small clink.

He smirked. It was a parlor trick, and barely that, for a mage. But it was intriguing. She was intriguing. And Jaskier was busy being fawned over by fans, so it’s not as though Geralt would be missed. He stood and waded his way through the masses, towering over many of the other patrons, before finally making it to his destination. He held up the coin.

The woman smiled up at him, sly, and spoke before he did. “No need to thank me, just doing as the song requested. Are you so often followed around by… loyal bards?”

He laughed. He hadn’t heard someone use ‘bard’ in decades. “Not until recently. To who do I owe the pleasure?”

“Whom, I think,” she quipped, and offered her hand. “Yennefer.”

“Geralt,” he said, and she laughed as he sat down across from her.

“Yes, I’ve heard as much. The White Wolf. Quite the title.”

“I didn’t pick it myself, I assure you.”

“You don’t seem to mind it all that much.”

“… I suppose not. Better than some of the other titles I haven’t picked.”

“Do you have many of those?”

“Plenty. Couldn’t tell you what most of them were, though. Hard to hear when you’re dodging enemies.”

She titled her head slightly and sat back to let her gaze drag over him. “So, none from lovers, then?”

He smiled again. “Cheeky.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Take it however you’d like.”

“You’re not much for flattering yourself, are you, Geralt.”

“That’s what I’ve got my bard for.”

She laughed, a light thing that he knew would be echoing around his chest for days. She leaned back in, looking around conspiratorially. He leaned in a touch as well, their faces only inches from each other now. “Tell me, Geralt. Are you as noble and chivalrous as that song made you out to be?”

“It flatters me. But I do my best for… those in need.”

“And if I were in need, you would do something for me?”

“I might be able to do that.”

“Well then.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I would be entirely grateful, Geralt… if you get me some apple juice.” He leaned back in confusion, while she pressed the coin he still held further into his hand. “This should cover it.”

When he leaned away, she wore an unmistakably coquettish smile, biting back a laugh. He smiled despite himself, brows furrowed as he looked down at the coin, and back at her, before letting out a small laugh himself.

“Alright. One apple juice, fair mage. I will do my best.”

“Take care on your dangerous voyage!” She called after him, as he slipped into the crowd. She whipped out her phone; the break would be lasting another 15 or so minutes, just enough to play a game on her phone. Whether or not Geralt made it back to his table in time for the next set was none of her concern. Besides, he’d somehow befriended her most recent mortal enemy, so anything that happened tonight would have to be a one-time thing. If anything happened, of course, but Yennefer was not in the habit of letting a good time pass her by.

Things were perfectly right in her world, as she waited for her phone to load, until suddenly someone dressed in frankly garish teal and red was standing before her. She didn’t look up from her phone.

“Ahem?”

She continued looking at her phone. The damn thing wouldn’t load.

“You know, it’s very rude to keep your most reviled enemy waiting.”

It still wouldn’t fucking load. She groaned and put it down. “What do you want, Jaskier?” Her neighbor, grinning widely and holding two glasses of punchy looking drinks, sat down across from her. “No one else hesitated to applaud my wonderful performance except… for you. Come on. You must have some review for me. Three words or less.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him for a moment. “I don’t buy it.”

He frowned. “No, that’s four. What don’t you buy?”

“The song. You expect me to believe you willingly put yourself within 10 miles of danger? You already complain that the second floor is too dangerous for you.”

“It is dangerous, and I sleep there, so it’s different. Really, it did happen, you could ask Geralt. Actually, gods, no, don’t ask Geralt. Don’t talk to him, actually. You’d hate each other, definitely, best stay away.”

“Oh dear. Someone’s already jealous.”

“I am not—!” he squeaked, before leaning in. “I am not jealous, I just don’t need you and your…” he waved a hand at her, “your face-ness scaring him off!”

“My face?”

“Yes! It’s full of… secrets. And… plots. Evil plots!”

“Right. Do you know what your face is full of?”

“Charm? Charisma? An air of mystery?”

She swiftly grabbed one of his drinks and splashed it in his face, while he gaped. She swiped a finger across his cheek and tasted it. “Mmm, no… something fruity. Strawberry?”

“Raspberry,” he corrected. His face dripped. “I had that coming, a bit.”

“Oh, absolutely.” She waved a hand, and the drink was gone—his face, shirt, the table all now dry. “Don’t take that as a kindness. I just don’t want to pay for your dry cleaning.”

“Of course,” he replied, touching his now dry face. “And I don’t want any more battles with you in the laundry genre, if I can help it.” Despite herself, she laughed.

“Ah, I see there is a brain behind those blue eyes after all.”

“You just like seeing me covered in liquid and at your mercy.”

“Maybe,” she admitted.

He sat back in the booth. “You know, if you weren’t utterly terrifying, I could write songs about you as well. I’m sure you’ve got stories. We could make some together.”

“I am the story.”

“See, that’s good! Have you considered abandoning magic and the position of ‘very sexy, very scary witch’, and instead working towards of ‘very sexy, very charming poet’? At least then we’d be competitors in the same field. Same playing ground! Same weapons, which is to say, absolutely no weapons.”

“Mm. And have you considered abandoning your current title of ‘unfortunately charming, unfortunately talented, deeply annoying musician’ and opting instead for ‘very quiet, mildly charming eye candy’? It would suit you more.”

“The day I stop talking is the day I run out of breath.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Dear Ms. Penthouse, I’m sure you’ll be the one to bring it about.”

“Wouldn’t you love to be so lucky. Besides, haven’t you got a wolf in shining armor to protect you?” Just then, a sound went over the loudspeakers. 5 minutes until the end of the break, then.

“Well, much as I’d love to continue this lovely and for me, a frankly sexually confusing chat, I must grab my drinks before our next musicians are on.”

“Take care, then. I’d hate to see you die without getting to be a part of it,” she said, giving him a pat on the arm, her hand lingering as he looked at her for a moment, licking his lips and then hurrying off.

It was only moments before Geralt returned.

“One apple juice,” he said, setting a tall glass in front of her with a straw. Yennefer smiled and pulled it closer to her, taking a sip. “Is it to your liking, fair mage?”

It was quite good, actually. “Acceptable. Thank you, dear witcher, for your services.”

“Any others you’d like to request of me?”

“Mmm… give me the evening to think of one.”

“I can’t promise I’ll be here forever.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll think of something. You just go… sit in the corner and brood.”

He laughed. “You’re not the first one to say that to me tonight.”

“Mm, so you’re completing quests for others? Should I be worried?” She snuck a glance toward the crowd, and Geralt followed her eyes to land on Jaskier, fliting between people, drinking something that this time looked icy and blue. “Just a friend, I hope?”

Geralt turned to look back at her. His face had too many things subtly happening for her to read it well, and after only a moment Fringilla and Coral had returned, beginning to slip into the booth.

“Will you be joining us?” Fringilla asked, but Geralt shook his head.

“I’ve been told to go brood,” he replied, and made his way back to his booth.

——

Geralt did, in his defense, make an attempt to listen to the other performers. Jaskier spent the evening continuing to flirt around the room, hands lingering on him, his own hands gently caressing shoulders and arms. Geralt could tell already he’d be going home alone that night. Well, not alone. Yennefer and he had been sharing glances as the night progressed, and he was fairly certain he knew where that was heading.

He just wouldn’t be going home with Jaskier, who would himself undoubtedly be going home with some fan or other patron. He had his pick of the room, for the most part. Which was good. Geralt knew he sought the praise, the fame. Besides, Jaskier and he had only planned to spend the late night catching up on their weekly nature documentary.

Another man paid for Jaskier’s next drink, a fizzy concoction, and Geralt felt himself give the tiniest hint of a growl.

Eventually, Yennefer’s companions slipped out, and he returned to her booth.

“Do you have a quest for me, then?”

“Mmm. How about, protect me here, until it’s time to leave, and then walk me back to my apartment?”

Geralt nodded. “That, I can do.”

The night pushed onward. After a few performers more, Geralt looked around in between sets and realized he’d lost track of Jaskier entirely. It would be unlike him to not give a heads-up before going home with somebody. Geralt frowned and checked his phone. A few dozen messages from Eskel and Coën, and; one missed call from Jaskier. Shit. He took a deep breath—he could smell his friend in the air, but not quite which direction it came from, not with so many people. Yennefer gave him a look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Missed a call. Hold on.” He pressed the redial and held it to his ear. It rang three times before it picked up. “Jaskier?”

“Mmm. Ger. Ger’lt. Do you wanna go home? With me.”

“You want me to take you home?” He shot an apologetic look at Yennefer.

“Come home with me.”

“Okay, Jaskier. Where are you?”

“Outside.”

“Alright. Be there soon.” Geralt hung up and began to slide out of the booth. “Sorry. He’s had a big night.”

“I could tag along,” Yennefer offered. “And then you’ll have doubly earned your rewards tonight.”

“I—sure, sure,” and they were off, navigating around the bar and out the door. “He doesn’t live that far away,” Geralt began to explain.

“Oh, I know.” Geralt shot her a questioning look as they exited the front door.

——

Jaskier was right there, leaning against the wall. His head ached—he’d had possibly more to drink in this night than he had for the past two weeks combined. It had all caught up with him, and he’d found himself outside, taking deep breaths of fresh air, clutching his lute bag to his chest.

He’d flirted around all night, but nothing, nobody had been worth his time. How was he supposed to focus on anyone when Geralt was right there? Not that he was interested, of course. But he’d come out, he’d come early, just to see Jaskier perform. Well, to be fair, his hit song, (he had one of those now!) was about Geralt, so that was probably why he came. But he wanted to pretend it was just for him. That Geralt had wanted to see Jaskier perform. He was miles out of Jaskier’s league, but oh, could he could absolutely dream some very, very sexy dreams.

And then his mortal enemy had been there, and wasn’t that a treat. She’d looked gorgeous. It was unfair. His building was full of beautiful people, all who only tolerated him, were abysmally out of his league, or would eat him for breakfast, if they had the chance. At least fighting with her gave him the excuse to look at her, talk to her. She’d splashed a drink in his face and he’d needed to slip away to the bathroom when they’d finished talking, just to calm himself down. That was unfair. Don’t fuck mages, he reminded himself. Not that she ever would. He’d had at least 6 more drinks after that, just to push the thought away.

He’d thought he’d been doing a bit better, the past few minutes. But clearly, he wasn’t, as he must have been hallucinating.

Before him stood Geralt (gorgeous, fascinating, generous, kind, warm-hearted Geralt), looking a bit dazed himself, as well as The Bitch of the 13th Floor (intriguing, deadly, witty, beautiful). So, his sexual fantasy that he had not until that moment realized existed.

“Oh dear. I’m worse than I thought.”

“Jaskier, what’s wrong?”

“Too much to drink. Now I’m hallucinating.”

Geralt frowned. “What do you see?”

Jaskier pointed to the woman in front of him and then shut his eyes tightly. “Unless… unless it’s a magic thing.”

“No—Jaskier, this is Yennefer. Yennefer, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s eyes flew open. “You know this woman? Of course you know this woman. So you do have a name!”

“Of course I have a name.”

“I don’t know, maybe mages don’t all have names.”

“You two know each other?”

Jaskier smiled loosely. “That’s my mortal enemy.”

“This is not Valdo Marx.”

“No! Penthouse Lady. Second one.”

“Oh. The Bitch of the 13th Floor.”

“Glad to know I hold a reputation in your circles, Jaskier,” she said lightly. “Though I’m a touch offended I’m only number 2.”

He frowned, and reached out for her arm, and held it lightly, then did the same with Geralt.

“Oh fuck. You are both here.”

“Right. Let’s get you back home.” Carefully, Geralt lifted Jaskier’s arm over his shoulders, and the three began to walk, Yennefer on his other side. They went to walk before he stopped, pulling Jaskier’s arm off him, and bent down.

“What are you--?”

“Your shoe strap is undone,” Geralt explained, before flashing a grin up at her. “I suppose this isn’t what you meant when you told me to kneel.”

“As I recall, I haven’t asked you to do that yet. I was saving it for the bedroom.”

Geralt finished with her shoe and then rose up, and they began walking. “The sticky note. ‘I will make you kneel and fix it yourself’?”

“…You’re the new tenant?! You’re the muddy bastard?!”

“Wait, you two were going to have sex?!” Jaskier whined.

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”

“I thought it was ‘Don’t fuck mages’, not ‘Don’t fuck mages unless they’re really hot, then that’s the exception’!”

“I can’t believe this,” Yennefer said. Her world fell apart and clicked into place all at once as they crossed the street. “Oh my god.”

“Did you not know?”

“Of course I didn’t know! You didn’t say how you knew him!”

“Well, there it is,” Geralt sighed. “And Jaskier, don’t just to conclusions, I wouldn’t presume that of her. All I did was buy her apple juice.”

“Now what kind of metaphor is that!”

“The kind that isn’t a metaphor at all.”

“Jaskier, if you say a single word about my apple juice—”

“I’m not saying anything about apple juice! It’s a noble beverage! But your apple juice leads to some implications!”

“And what if it does!” “Well! Well!” Jaskier flustered. “Well! We were going to watch our nature documentary tonight!”

“No we weren’t,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier looked at him, hurt. “What?”

“We weren’t going to watch the documentary, Jaskier. You were going to find someone to go home with.”

“I did find someone to go home with!” He said, bumping his hip into Geralt.

“I don’t count,” Geralt muttered, as they finally made it into the building.

“Why don’t you count?”

“Because, Jaskier, you weren’t planning to sleep with me.”

“Says who!”

“Let’s just go to mine,” Yennefer said as they stepped in the elevator. “I don’t want to try and navigate his apartment in the dark. I’m sure it’s a wreck.”

“It’s fine, actually,” Jaskier muttered. “Geralt I know we wouldn’t have slept together, you have standards, but—”

“Well, more like because he was planning on sleeping with me, thank you very much.”

“Watch out, Lady of the Penthouse, or I’ll… write a song about you.”

“Who said I was planning or not planning on sleeping with anyone?”

“You did!”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“That’s the point!”

“So, you two… aren’t sleeping together?”

“What’s your point?!” Geralt demanded, oblivious to Yennefer’s question.

“Well, that’s how you know someone doesn’t want to sleep with you! One of the many ways. They don’t say they do! You’ve made it clear we’re just… you know. Pals.”

“I never said that!”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Jaskier, for once in your life, would you say something with some sense?!” “I said, ‘come home with me’! How much more clear do I have to be than ‘I’d rather spend the night with you’?! Actually, frankly, with both of you, this is nice. Loud, but nice. I can’t believe I’m saying this about my sworn nemesis.”

“Now, hold on—”

“Everybody shut up!” Yennefer said, loud enough that the boys shut their mouths. “No more speaking. We will be at my apartment soon. I will be going into my kitchen to get you,” she pointed at Jaskier, “something to ensure you don’t get sick all over the elevator.”

“I’m—I’m feeling a lot better, really,” he said. She made a shushing motion against his lips, and she could feel his hot breath, could sense his heartbeat race faster, watched his cheeks flush. Interesting.

“By the time I’m back, I want you two sorted.” The doors dinged, and they emerged on a landing in front of an intricate white door, which Yennefer opened with a wave of her hand. “I’ll be back in a moment. Just… let me know who Geralt will be kneeling for,” she said, and then walked into the kitchen, heels snapping against the tile.

She looked at her cabinets, opening one and retrieving the bottle she wanted. Well. They’d need more than a few seconds, surely. She placed it carefully on the counter and listened.

“I…” Geralt was saying. “Um.”

“I didn’t… Geralt. I’m sorry. I don’t want to… ruin things.”

“You’re not ruining anything.”

“You’ve hardly shown interest, I know you’re not…”

“I’m bad at these things. Talking. You know that.”

“Okay, then…” Jaskier trailed off, and took a big breath. “Then show me.”

“Show you?”

“What you mean. Or… what you don’t mean. I don’t know. But if there’s… Geralt, if there’s something, anything about me that you want, in that way, I am asking you to show me. It’s fine if not. But… I’m here, I want it, if you do. I mean, I want it either way, really. Have for a bit.”

“…You’re drunk.”

“I won’t be, once Yennefer gets that… thing. And it’ll be the same. I promise.

“I don’t want you regretting anything.”

“How could I regret you? Show me, Geralt. Please.”

“…Show you."

“Yes, yes, please, Geralt. Pl—”

And there was silence. Or, there was the sound of mouths sliding against each other, soft, deep moans reverberating in their chests. She let them have the moment, and then Jaskier gave a soft whine, and she smiled. That was her cue.

She clicked into the foyer, bottle held aloft.

“A gift,” she said, and the two staggered apart, “for my nemesis. Purely because his white wolf brought me apple juice, let it be known. And thank you for the show. Both at the bar and here.” Jaskier stepped toward her and took the bottle.

“I must warn you,” she said, “it tastes like goat piss.” Jaskier popped the cork, and chugged the bottle before making a face.

“How long does it take to— oh, fuck—”

“Pretty instantaneous,” Yennefer said as he grabbed her shoulder to support himself. Geralt came up behind him.

“The room stopped spinning. I didn’t even realize it was spinning,” he frowned. He shook his head for a moment, turned back to Geralt, and grabbed his neck, pulling them to meet in a firm kiss. “See? Meant it.”

“Maybe I need some of that too,” Geralt muttered. “Things are spinning.”

“As much as I enjoy playing cupid,” Yennefer said, taking back the bottle, “it seems as though I’ve been a bit removed from the equation, so you two had best be off, I suppose.”

“Someday, you’ll be won over by my charms,” Jaskier said with a kiss to her knuckles. “But if you two had… plans… I could always wait a night. Unless you’d like both of us in your bed,” he half-joked to her.

“I don’t know how this is happening to me,” Geralt muttered.

“Oh, be careful what you wish for, Jaskier,” she hummed, “you might just get it.”

“Does this mean I’ve won you over?”

“It means I don’t let a good night pass me by.”

“Oh, so you think I’ll be good, you admit that.”

“It means I’m open to you proving me wrong. But I saw you play. You can make good use of those hands. Geralt?”

Geralt was leaning against the wall, staring into the middle distance, looking lost. “I just. A lot has happened. I thought you hated each other?”

“I told you she was gorgeous, I don’t just say things.”

“You do very much just say things.”

“Well, then, someone’s going to have to shut me up.”

Yennefer tilted his head back to face her and pulled him down into a kiss—languid and slow, as one of his arms grabbed her waist and pulled her upwards and to him, just enough that she was standing on tip toe. She ran her hands up his chest, coming to rest around his neck, playing with his hair. He finally pulled away, just to kiss a line down one side of her jaw, sucking a small mark onto her neck.

She looked back at Geralt, still a bit dazed but with a fire behind his eyes. “Well,” she said, detaching herself from Jaskier. “Will you be joining?”

Rather than answer, Geralt took a few steps forward toward her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her—gentle and almost pleading. They fit together so easily, he thought. He hadn’t ever fit with someone like he had with two people tonight. How had he earned this? How had he made it to this point in his life?

Jaskier was suddenly behind him, kissing his back, running one hand up his chest, the other against Yennefer’s hand, which had reached his shoulder. He couldn’t have all this, could he?

“You think so loudly, Geralt,” Yennefer teased him.

“It’s true,” Jaskier agreed. “Even I hear it, darling.”

“Okay. Then… take me somewhere I don’t have to think.”

Yennefer smiled, took his hand in hers, and Jaskier’s in her other. “I’m glad your place was the bedroom,” Jaskier whispered, “Because honestly, mine would probably be the zoo.”

Yennefer pinched his hand, “Ow! But am I wrong?! You don’t need your brain for the zoo!” and led them on.

x

8:24am

Sunday, April 3rd

16 Messages from Aretuza Takes Novigrad

Coral Lytta — 9 hours ago

okay, thanks for letting us know, yen!!! have fun!!

Fringilla – 9 hours ago

Wait, I’m sorry, were the two people you just went home with the witcher and the musician? The guy you hate?

Sabrina — 9 hours ago

What on earth is happening

Fringilla – 9 hours ago

She didn’t specify which two guys she went home with, but I’m pretty sure I just saw them all leave together.

Sabrina — 8 hours ago

I can’t believe drama is happening without me

Coral Lytta — 7 hours ago

its not drama drama is frin getting the number of someone with a green hair when she specifically said she’d sworn off of green hair for at least a year

Sabrina — 7 hours ago

omfg

Fringilla – 6 hours ago

Coral!! Where are you, I’m not letting you get away with this! They’re cute! You can’t shame me.

Coral Lytta — 5 hours ago

update everyone we got a car home and frin has been texting green hair (jesu) the whole way home if youre reading this its too late for me it was nice knowing u

Sabrina – 3 hours ago

Loving this. Just blew up half a field with Anica. She says hi

Sabrina – 2 hours ago

Hey yen I am seeing this mystery enemy of yours on tiktok people filmed his set

Sabrina – 2 hours ago

He’s hot good job

Sabrina – 2 hours ago

But why is he playing a fucking lute

Coral Lytta – 1 hour ago

morning all yennefer please send pics of ur hot date(s)

Fringilla – 15 minutes ago

Are we not addressing that Sabrina and Anica blew up a field?!

Sabrina — Just Now

Lol

8:24am

Sunday, April 3rd

167 Messages from CITY WITCHERS GETTING LAMBERT (AND GERALT) DATES… Showing 16

Lambert – 10 hours ago

Okay I made him laugh and now I’m in the bathroom what the fuck now??

Eskel – 10 hours ago

Pay for the bill, leave a good tip for that waiter for saving your ass, and then ask him if he wants to go back to yours. You’ve done this before, Lamb.

Coën – 10 hours ago

He’s been flirting with you all night, you’ll be fine.

Lambert – 10 hours ago

Fuck Okay If you never hear from me again it’s because I died of embarrassment

Lambert – 10 hours ago

Bye forever

Eskel – 9 hours ago

Drama queen. Hey Geralt how’s it going?

Coën – 9 hours ago

He’s in it too deep. He probably watched that guy play live and just died.

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Sex is so awesome

Eskel – 6 hours ago

Congrats bro. I’m sleeping now.

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Don’t you wanna hear about how great sex is

Eskel – 6 hours ago

I know it’s great, Lambert. I’ve had sex before

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Are we sure are we super sure you had sex cause like I just had GREAT sex possibly the best

Coën – 6 hours ago

It is two in the morning. I am begging you to shut up

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Put us on silent so I can talk about how great sex is

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Ha beat you to this one Geralt bet you didn’t have sex with someone hot tonight. HA

Lambert – 6 hours ago

Okay gotta go round two bye

8:24am

Sunday, April 3rd

Geralt – 10 hours ago

You coming back to the table?

Geralt – 10 hours ago

If I’m gone when you get back let me know when you get home

Geralt – 10 hours ago

You did really good, Jaskier. I’m proud of you

TikTok – 2 hours ago

You have 25,634 new followers!

TikTok – 1 hour ago

You hit 2.3 million views! Click here to see what people are saying…

Spotify – 15 minutes ago

You have 5,785 new followers and 806,216 new listens on Toss a Coin EP

Maybe: Yennefer – 5 minutes ago

It's Yennefer, send me that selfie of all of us you took, I wanna freak out my group chat

Geralt, Maybe: Yennefer

Maybe: Yennefer – 4 minutes ago

I can’t believe I’m the one doing this, but I guess we need a group chat.

To: Geralt, Maybe: Yennefer

Message: 1 image

Here’s the selfie for you both!! Use it wisely ;)

A Sorceress, A Witcher, and a Handsome Bard Walk into a Bar…

Yennefer – 3 minutes ago

Geralt get me apple juice while you’re up

A Sorceress, A Witcher, and a Handsome Bard Walk into a Bar…

Yennefer – 2 minutes ago

Jaskier, this chat name, you cannot be serious

A Sorceress, A Witcher, and a Handsome Bard Walk into a Bar…

Geralt – Just now

Haha

A Sorceress, A Witcher, and a Handsome Bard Walk into a Bar…

Geralt – Just now

:)

[kleptosuperstar]

hiii so uhh i really don't think anyone will see this because...i literally have one follower but im kinda making this for myself because me and my cousin are going to the mall and a few stores around the city in a few days SPECIFICALLY to lift and I made a list of things that we both want PLUS some tips for these stores seeing as I DO lift from most of them a lot sooo..yeah

SPENCERS: a moderately easy store seeing as there are TONS of blind spots and LP isn't employed. To top it off, cameras are never monitored, however they are low-hanging and somewhat high quality. Usually only 2-5 employees but the store is almost always crowded so if you find a blind spot it's a free for all. They wont chase but might call mall security.

What we want:

h20 piercing cleaner x2

toy cleaner

jojoba oil

hemp oil

septum and nose jewelery (we will actually have to purchase this, seeing as if you steal the jewelery they hand to you they WILL know you stole no matter what. Plus the packaging is riddled with RFID tags)

HOT TOPIC: Not that many blind spots, but employees usually don't care and rarely count clothing articles, which may have a tag or two, so check for those. Cameras are never monitored and the stores usually have a large layout so just watch out for customers and employees, find a blind spot and throw a bunch of shit into your bag They don't chase! :D.

What we want:

distressed thigh highs

over the knee thigh highs with bow

black fishnet lace thigh highs

black and white stripe arm warmers

black fishnet fingerless gloves

black floral tights

CLAIRE'S: whew lawd. I really really want to be helpful on this one but Claire's is a laughably easy place to lift from. No cameras, usually only 1 or 2 employees and if one is giving a piercing it's a free-for-all. THEY HAVE MIRRORS SO AVOID THOSE. My favorite blind spot there is behind the register if there is no one there, and that's all I have to say there.

What I want: (she doesn't want anything from Claire's apparently🙄)

Headphones

A tiara

Nail polish

VICTORIA'S SECRET: first of all lol, i feel ZERO shame in lifting from them. Please note that they do have cameras, and their SAs are trained to look out for shoplifters, however most of them are just confused college girls lol. Panties are NOT tagged. What I like to do is take a medium sized empty makeup bag and put it in my purse, and once I arrive to VS i put the makeup bag in the tote, I also drop my phone into the tote. I go around the store, picking out panties that are my size and i drop them so they can fall directly into the makeup bag. I do this with as many as I can fit into the bag and I do this with small makeup items as well. Once I'm done, I reach into the bag as if I'm looking for my phone (which i dropped in earlier) and that's the moment when i zip up the zipper of the makeup bag and pull out my phone immediately after and pretend to check the time and say something like "Damn, I gotta go. I'm late." Or something like that. Put the makeup bag in your purse and play around on your phone as you exit the store. And that's really it :) I rarely lift bras from there anymore so I can't REALLY help you there.

What I want:

a bunch of panties and some lip gloss!

BARNE'S AND NOBLES: I've never lifted from this place but I know friends who have. I'll give you the tips they gave me. There are cameras, and they are being monitored, but there are PLENTY of blind spots seeing as it is a very large store. The kid's section has no cameras tho, so if you're like me and look younger than you are, this could be for your advantage. No one expects you to steal when you're vibing in the kid's section. Most books have RFID tags, and hardcover books sometime have books engraved in the cover, so watch out for those. Most manga, some magazines, and just overall 99% of the books are tagged. Get what you want, flip through them and look for RFID tags while pretending to "read". If an employee sees you sitting down "reading" they won't suspect you unless they actually see you ripping out the tags. The worst that could happen is that they could ask you to move out of the book aisle so other customers can come through, if that happens, simply find another blind spot. Slip them into your bags like they're yours as SOON as you know they're rid of RFID tags. They won't chase, but probably will try to get you back into the store and if that doesn't work they'll try to get a license plate number or give your description to the police, neither usually goes anywhere tbh.

What we want:

fire force volume 1

fire force volume 2

fire force volume 3

fire force volume 4

Akame Ga Kill

Soul eater

Black lagoon

Kakegurui vol. 1

The seven deadly sins volume 1

Spy x family 1

Spy x family 2

Spy x family 3

Black butler vol. 1

Black butler vol. 2

Black butler vol. 3

Black butler vol. 4

Wotakoi vol. 1

Wotakoi vol. 2

Gangsta

Dictionary of witchcraft

The anatomy of the occult

Charms, spells, and formula

Moon spells

Gothic beauty magazine number 19

Nocturnal witchcraft

Necronomicon

The good witch's daily spellbook

A big book of practical spells

Any book on astrology

Gothic grimoire

Shingeki no Kyonin

Ulta: The second store I've ever lifted from. This store is easy, but not laughably. I feel like this would be a starter for babylifters. This store has mild LP, so watch out for those and NEVER EVER EVER conceal in front of customers, you should never do this in general but especially NOT in an Ulta. Get to your blindspot and make sure to detag depending on what you plan on lifting. Those mfs at Ulta tag like crazy. Put everything in your bag and remember to NEVER get too greedy at this store. They have a STRICT, VERY VERY STRICT no chase policy.

What we want:

better than sex mascara

lipstick

eyeshadow

makeup brushes

black liquid and stick liner

pink liquid liner (if they have it)

bronzer

brown eyeliner

eyeliner pencil

maracuja oil

any colorful eyeshadow pallate lol

WALMART: My walmart is so easy it hurts. Maybe about 5 cameras throughout the whole store to my knowledge, so the whole thing is basically a blind spot. The makeup aisle is heavily monitored tho so whenever I'm over there I make an effort to never look up to those cameras. Grab whatever you want/need and AVOID EMPLOYEES!!! they're everywhere. As well as customers. They are the two most annoying problems I've ever had lifting from a Walmart. I've noticed that aisles where you get things such as building materials are the most empty with no cameras. People usually only go to walmart because the food is cheap, so there are a lot of families who are usually only at one side of the store. Its rare that people ever need materials like those so seek out aisles like that to use as a blind spot. Wal-Mart doesn't seem to tag that many things, but ALWAYS check no matter what store you're at. If you're lifting something on the expensive side, just check for that.

What I want:

kinder buenos x2

sugar free monster energy

paint

paintbrushes

black lace

blue eyeliner

blush

nail polish

socks

THE DOLLAR TREE:

Pretty easy store tbh. The cameras are fake, and if they aren't they're never being monitored. I don't know about ALL layouts but mine has SO many blindspots it's crazy. If you're just looking for a snack, some makeup, or maybe a meal ? (Yes, you can get a whole meal if you lift enough stuff) then the dollar tree would be your place of interest. There are almost no employees walking around the store. There are usually only 2, and they switch between working at the registers and cleaning out the front of the store or whatever. Honestly this store is so easy just stuff shit in your bag lol. Even if you get caught they won't chase or call the police. Their stock is WAYY too cheap for that. I go there to steal candy or makeup brushes which is usually not worth paying for anyways so this is a beginner store. Knock yourself out ;)

What I want:

literally anything i see there that i want😭

welllll if you actually made it this far, thank you so much! I hope this helped someone and I hope one day I can make a master list of stores myself instead of just picking selective ones but this was all i was able to do :( i really REALLY hope this helped someone lmao just remember

✨ if its chain, its free reign✨

[aprilyroseee]

Caste Heaven - chapter 30 ✨ (spoilers and summary)

Hey! 🌝  Chapter 30 came out on saturday. This time I couldn't buy the magazine because it's not available for purchasing. The photos are not mine but belong to a chinese girl who posts them on Weibo, a chinese website (here her account).

The chapter has 32 pages, but these images only cover part of it. While waiting for the whole chapter, I tried to sum up what happened. Let me first say that it's not accurate but reworked, so it's not meant to be the official translation.

Incipit: According to the forecast, it looks like this winter will be particularly harsh. "Help". The message Azusa sent to Karino thinking he could rely on him. Azusa's broken heart, who trusted him but was betrayed.

The chapter starts with Atsumu and Kuze walking to school. Atsumu clears his throat so Kuze asks him if he's caught a cold. Atsumu: "No, it's just a slight sore throat". Kuze gives him a cough drop and after thanking him, Atsumu tells him to go ahead.

The scene shifts to school. It seems that class 2-1 won first place at the cultural festival for the event they organized, the photo shotting in cosplay. However, the tension in the classroom between the higher and lower ranks hasn't changed. Azusa enters the classroom and some basketballs bounce at him (the work of his silly classmates). He grabs a ball and strongly throws it at Karino. Azusa: "You all are a bunch of fucking maggots swarming on dead meat". Mizobata shouts "Bastard!" but Karino stops him. Atsumu thinks something happened between Azusa and Karino. [If you notice, Azusa has a bandage on the left side of his forehead.😔 ]

Later on, the final grades of the second semester are published outside of the classroom: while Tatsumi is still at the top of the 3rd year, Karino doesn't seem to be in the list of the 2nd year, which means his grades dropped. Karino is called by the teacher, who tries to understand why his grades have fallen. Karino replies he hasn't been very well during this time but he'll work hard to make up for it.

After that, it's Azusa’s turn. The teacher asks him why he failed the test (as he didn't score any points) and at this rate he's in danger of flunking out. Azusa nonchalantly replies that he's not interested in graduating from college. The teacher: “Society is not a piece of cake as you think” and Azusa: “I'd rather die than become an empty person who depends on a title. I won't rely on anyone. I'll live only on my own." Azusa has no longer hope of relying on anyone, not even on something like a degree because he has completely withdrawn, he doesn't want anyone's help to move forward. The teacher tells him to choose at least one of the supplementary classes, for the sake of his parents.

Azusa leaves the room and sees Karino sitting outside. They look at each other for a second but then Azusa looks away.

Karino grabs him by the hair and asks “Are you ignoring me or what? Don't you understand unless I tell you?”. Azusa: “If you wanna do it so badly then go ask Eno!! After all, you're well-matched.”. Karino surprised “Hah? What's that dude got to do with it?". Azusa replies "If you get hit by maggots, you're gonna rot, you know. I'm saying that maggots always end up mating together……like at the cultural festival”. Karino doesn't understand and says “Are you still thinking about that cultural festival stuff? Something worthless". Azusa lowers his head. "I knew it. It's just a way to kill time for you. I shouldn't have believed in you from the start."

TW: rape

Karino gets pissed off and pushes him, making Azusa bang his head. Karino says not to blather at random because a feckless like him doesn't know anything. "Damn, stop it!!". Azusa slaps him and Karino says "I'll make you remember your place".

He brutally rapes him. Azusa thinks “It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!!!!". It's so painful that he's about to cry and he bites his lips.

He trembles and then collapses. Karino looks down on him.

Clenching his fist, Azusa replies: "I'll never forgive you. Just you". His expression is full of hatred. 💔 Karino leaves the room and throws a punch at the wall. "Oh, Karino?"...

It's Eno who asks what he was doing and in the meantime tucks the shirt inside Karino's pants. "Azusa-kun again?" and Karino replies "Why I was with him?". "That's right!! Your social caste is too different!”. Eno places his hands around Karino's neck and says: "I understand. A person who stands above others is alone. Nobody knows/understands it. If it were up to me, I would understand that loneliness."

The scene moves to Tatsumi and Komagome Kagura, the "Brain" of 3-5, Eno's class. Tatsumi and Komagome leave the Student Council classroom together. Tatsumi says that Komagome seems to be the only person in his class who hasn't a relationship, or something going on, with Eno. We discover that Kagura and Eno were in the same primary school. That's why Eno was upset by Kagura's behavior in chapter 29. He says Eno was an ordinary child at the time, but then they drifted apart. Tatsumi asks what happened and Kagura replies that Eno has changed over time. People change and are influenced by the environment, it's inevitable. But Tatsumi says he knows a guy who doesn't let himself be swayed, no matter what. (not really like that but I don't understand a kanji because it's blurry). Komagome: “Ohh? I want to meet him” and Tatsumi: “Shall I introduce him to you next time? But he's extremely cheeky”. The two of them stop at the sight of Eno. Komagome says "It's Eno, troublesome". Eno walks with his arm on Karino, saying "You with me, Kohei?". Tatsumi stares at them stunned.

Last scene of the chapter: Atsumu is walking in the hallway after the meeting with the teacher and notices Azusa crouching with his face down. Atsumu looks at the blood on his shirt, but when he tries to get close, Azusa yells at him “Don't fucking touch me!!! Don't you dare touch me at all, I'll kill you!!". 💔 💔 💔

Shortly after, Kuze reaches him. Atsumu hugs him and says “I am weak. Despite everything, I'm still tied to this caste. I'm not able to do anything even if a person I care about is hurt”. “I wish I was stronger”. "Atsumu..."

End of chapter. So sad and hearbreaking, even if it’s nothing that I didn't expect. (ಥ﹏ಥ) I would like to make a post about my impressions and my own analysis of it later! 🤯

[dresupi]

Hey guys. 

So I’ve recently done a deep dive on the internet to find a History curriculum that teaches CRT so I could use it for my kids this year.  I found one, (I’ll share the link on another post for anyone who wishes to use it as well) and it requires a literal TON of outside reading because it’s based in Literature. It uses a lot of Indigenous, African American, Mexican American, and Indian American authors’ works, and the only problem is that I could only find so many available through our library’s online services, even fewer available in the library in physical form, and I’m running out of money to buy all the rest.  

I mean, like... running out of money is at least on brand for me, right? *sobs quietly*

If you can help, I would be beyond grateful. I’m sorry I keep having to do this, but we’re almost out of debt from the pandemic, and I’m hoping my royalty sales will start to pick up once I can actually write again.

Anyway, This is a comprehensive list of all the books we still need for the year, plus witchy books I’m interested in, plus random other things that I add as we figure out we need them.  

I’ve added the ebook versions where possible/if that was the cheapest option, and I’m unsure how the ebook thing works on wish lists, so if you want to help out with it, I will include my paypal at the bottom for donations, and you can just add a note as to which books you want it to go towards? Idk if that makes it easier or harder, but anyway. I’ll remove the books as I can purchase them.

Obviously, all the witchy books are mine and aren’t necessary at all, I just tend to keep everything on one list so it’s not confusing for me, I confuse easily. Everything else on the list is just stuff, don’t worry about it. The main thing we need right now are the books for the CRT curriculum.

Thank you so so much again for everything. <3 <3 <3 I’m beyond humbled always by the help from people who have never met us irl. 

[crispy-chan]

carriwitchet ch.5

pairing | han jisung x reader, 3racha x reader genre/warnings | fluff, angst, high school au, slow burn, friends to lovers, love square word count | 3k  a/n | sorry for the long wait. I really have to be in the right headspace for thsi series but i'll try my best to update it more often from now on. also - this chapter is a lil bit sadder than usual. enjoy <3

my masterlist

CHAPTER 5

“Hello there N/n,” Changbin beamed as he ran towards you. (I trolled you all kekeke)

“Oh hi Bin,” you waved at him, as he tackled you into a bear hug. This wasn't unusual in your relationship, the both of you being quite affectionate people. However, the hug was getting a little too long, even for a person like you.

“Ugh, let go. I can’t breathe,” you groaned, patting his back.

After he finally let go of you, you got to have a proper look at him. He definitely dressed up for the occasion. He sported a crisp white button-down (that outlined his toned biceps) tucked into black ripped jeans and topped off the look with his signature high-end cap. Overall, he looked pretty damn handsome. Suddenly, you felt a bit underdressed in your cardigan.

Changbin turned around to find you staring. “Whatcha looking at?” he smirked cheekily.

You immediately blushed and swatted him away, turning around to pretend you were looking at the movie options. It was a stupid move since you guys have already agreed on the movie, but Changbin was thoughtful enough not to call you out on your bullshit.  

He must have sensed your discomfort though, because he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “you look really pretty today.”

You felt shivers run down your spine as he said that and felt a soft blush stain your cheeks. You pushed that thought out of your mind, focusing on securing a spot in the line so you could purchase your tickets.

Changbin looked amused at your antics but gracefully decided to drop it. Both of you approached the counter and asked for the tickets. You agreed on two back-row middle seats but argued for a while on who should pay.

“Stop being ridiculous Y/n, I'm taking you to the movies for your birthday so you're not gonna pay.”

“Oh come on, I can just pay for my own ticket,” you tried to protest but Changbin was already swiping his card on the terminal. 

“No. I'm paying and that's final.”

You wanted to further object but decided to drop it at the unamused expression of the part-timer behind the counter. You didn't want to be kicked out after all and the annoyed whispers of the people behind you led you to simply drop it.

You reached the minibar and started to roam over the menu. 

“Do you want to buy popcorn?” Changbin inquired, smiling at your apparent excitement.

“Of course. What's going to the movies without having popcorn?” you laughed as you stuck your hand in your pocket, struggling to pull out your wallet.

Changbin frowned at that, not liking that you wouldn't just let him pay so he put his hand over yours, halting your movements.

“Come on,” he whined, “just let me pay, ok? I invited you as a birthday present so the least I can do is actually pay for it.”

You groaned at that but finally agreed, albeit begrudgingly. Whiny Changbin was actually pretty cute. 

Wait for what?

“Fine but I'm paying next time, ok?”

Changbin just shot you a wink and a sing-songy “maybe,” as he went up to the counter and ordered one extra-large popcorn and two medium sodas.

He pulled out his wallet and took out his credit card before swiping it over the terminal. Damn, why did guys always look ten times more attractive when paying by card? That must have been surely the mystery of the century. After grabbing the order, he pulled you in the direction of where your movie was being played.

“So, are you scared?” he teased.

“Oh shut up Bin! I'm sure it can't be that bad, right?”

“Well good thing you've got me to protect you,” he chortled.

“In your dreams.”

“Which seats do we have again?” you asked while climbing up the stairs.

“Twenty-seven and eight,” he read from the tickets.

You finally got to your seats, placing the popcorn on the floor for a moment before shuffling around to sit properly, lifting the popcorn from the floor, and placing the sodas in the cup holders on the armrests.

“Don't forget to turn off your phone,” you reminded Changbin while pulling out your own to not disturb anyone.

“Your right, thanks.”

The lights in the room slowly dimmed as all the ads started to run. After about ten minutes, you were feeling a little tired as you absentmindedly leaned your head on Changbin's shoulder. The boy was startled at first but cracked a smile at your zoned-out expression. When the movie started, he gave you a light nudge to get you to focus on the screen.

You whipped your head up in surprise, your cheeks heating up at you slip up as you quickly sat back, eyes directly on the movie. Changbin internally chuckled at your flustered state, redirecting his gaze at the screen too. 

The movie was actually quite interesting, save for the occasional jumpscares that scared the shorts out of you. During one of the scenes, you could tell that the main character was walking straight into a trap and you really didn't want to witness it.

“Oh god, why is he going there?” you whined, “isn't it obvious that she's there and that she'll kill him.”

You couldn't stand it anymore, almost launching yourself onto Changbin's lap (while doing some gymnastics to get around the armrest in between you) as you pressed your head into his chest to drown out the movie completely.

“Why did I even agree to this in the first place?” you moaned, “I should have said no.”

Changbin had a hard time suppressing his chuckles at your adorableness. He'd never tell you this but he was actually glad whenever you snuggled up to him. At this rate, he was afraid though that the movie might be too much for you so he slightly nudged your shoulder.

“What?” you whispered, looking up at him with those big eyes. “Just that, you know - if it's too much, we can leave and go get ice cream or something,” he muttered, his palm going to brush some stray locks of your hair behind your ear.

You felt your heart skip a few beats at the gesture, choosing to snuggle back into his arm to avoid his intense gaze.

“I'm fine Bin, sorry for… sorry for acting like this. I should be fine now,” you smiled, moving away from him and sitting back in your seat. Embarrassment started to creep on you with how you just behaved. You hoped that Changbin didn't think you were too weird after this.

The rest of the movie went rather smoothly, none of the jump scares being nearly as frightening as the previous one. Changbin still did reach out to hold your hand whenever he sensed something even mildly alarming.

When the final credits rolled, the both of you started to pick up your stuff, heading out of the dim room while chatting about the movie.

“Look, I'm sorry for all that,” you started nervously, “but please don't tell anyone. I'd never live it down if they catch wind of it.”

He smirked at the display of you begging him like that but after seeing how worried you were, he decided to drop it.

“Don't worry N/n, I won't tell anybody. Besides, why would I share something as cute with the rest? This is now a thing between you and me only,” he smirked.

��Okok, that's enough,” you said firmly, not wanting to talk about it anymore, “let's go get something to eat.”

------

You entered the cozy cafe and took a seat near the window in a quiet corner. You scanned the menu, getting a little too immersed in choosing what you want as you completely zoned out when the waiter came to take your order.

“N/n,” Changbin flicked your forehead lightly to bring you back to earth. “What do you want to order?” he asked, pointing to the waiting part-timer who was slowly losing his patience.

“Oh. sorry, I'll have the latte and a matcha pudding, please,” you murmured, hoping the boy heard you. Luckily, he did as he scribbled down your order and briskly walked away.

You sighed, hating yourself for spacing out like that and making a fool of yourself. You were zoning out all day and you didn't know why. Maybe it was because of the movie - you were quite scared after all, no point denying that but you had this underlining feeling.

After finishing your drinks, Changbin walked you to the bus stop (insisting it was late already, and you shouldn't walk alone) and thanked you for coming with him.

“Seriously. Bin, stop,” you chuckled, “why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you. It was lovely, I didn't realize I needed this but I actually really did. I had lots of fun, and I hope you too.”

“Of course I had fun N/n. As long as I'm with you, I’ll always have fun,” he patted your head with a wink, shooting you the finger guns as he walked away.

You were still laughing about it as you got on the bus, his corniness proving to be really funny as always. You realized you actually missed some of his stupid jokes, the momentary separation between you two suddenly seeming way pettier.

You softly hummed the melody of For You. Again. But you just couldn't help it, the song had such a calming effect on you. It was your go-to song when you were stressed, anxious, or overwhelmed with school. And hey, who knows? Maybe there really are blessings waiting for you.

Getting off the bus, you walked the short walk home and rummaged for your keys. After stepping in, you made your way to the bathroom. You jumped in the shower, feeling ready to wash off all the sweat and lather yourself in that coconut body lotion.

------

On Monday morning, you walked into the school building, exhausted from just going up the few steps. You didn't get much sleep last night, opting for preparing for that chemistry exam even though it was on Thursday.

You see, chemistry was never exactly your forte. That's why you had mad respect for everybody that understood it, which was unironically about half of your friend group. Felix and Jisung were absolute chem and bio whizzes, making you wonder if they ate workbooks for breakfast. On top of that, Iris was also quite good which left only you, Mei, and sometimes Changbin to stick together

It was quite painful watching everyone understand the lecture and later not study at all, only for them to get a better grade than you, who had studied for three hours every day a week before the exam. You learned to suppress those feelings, not wanting to come off as rude, it wasn't their fault after all that you just couldn't beat those damn formulas into your head.

Chemistry today was especially hard, the teacher dividing you into pairs and handing you worksheets to complete with your partner. 

You were paired up with Changbin, who usually fared better than you but today, he was none the wiser.

“God damn, I have no clue how to do this,” he cursed under his breath, scanning the handout with visible distaste.

You laughed at his antics, going through your backpack to find your notebook. “Neither do I but I think we should manage with the help of my notes.”

“Yeah, your notes are a literal lifesaver, thanks.”

You plopped the notebook on the desk, opening it and turning the pages to find the needed material. 

With the help of your trusty notes, the two of you managed to complete the paper, even finishing before the bell rung and giving you some time to chat.

You left the classroom with a smile, feeling like you probably won't fail the next exam.

If you just put enough time into preparation, you could maybe even scrape an A. Today was Monday - that meant that you still had three days left to prepare. You studied for three hours yesterday, familiarizing yourself with the theoretical part of the topic. Now all that was left was to not forget it and go through the formulas to make sure you could build the proper equations.

Let's say you could cram in about two and a half hours of studying every day until Thursday. With that much dedication, you could likely do pretty well. While you were counting in your head and mentally planning out study sessions, Jisung ran up to you from behind and scared the shorts out of you.

“Wassup, N/n. Wanna hang out?” he put his arm around your shoulder and playfully nudged your side.

“No Jisung,” you threw his arm off, speeding in the direction of your locker, “sorry but not this week.”

When you saw his pouty face, you patted his hair and added, “the chemistry exam. I need to study as much as I can.”

“How come you didn't ask for help? I can tutor you if you want, I know how you despise chemistry.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I'll have to decline, Sung. I want to manage on my own.”

“I see,” he murmured, “that sounds a lot like you, actually,” he crinkled his nose and laughed. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Bye,” you waved at his retreating figure. Maybe you should have taken up on his offer. He was really good at chemistry, after all. You blinked, thinking about what would happen if you agreed, wouldn't do you any good. Plus, Jisung was a busy guy, he had a lot of things on his mind and you didn't want to bother him so it was better you declined.

You trudged your way home, entering your room and slamming the door shut. It was going to be a long day. Opening your notebook with a sigh, you started to go over the stuff for the n-th time. Oh, how you wished you were good at science. The stuff just didn't come easily to you and you had no idea why. You tried everything! All the methods there were but you could just never figure it out until you studied for hours. Maybe that's what you needed to do?  Just suck it up and study some more.

You were about to just do that but the sudden clang made you put down your notes for a second. And then you heard it. The beginnings of a loud argument that brewed between your parents almost every day. They always fought over the pettiest things like who put the dishes in the wrong place in the dishwasher? Who left their cup on the table? Where was the remote?

Whenever you heard someone raise their voice, you could feel your thoughts spiral down the deep end. It was like this trigger that sent your thoughts to this dark place. Blocking out the noise, you picked up your notebook and tried to concentrate on studying as to distract yourself. That's something you really needed at the moment.

At ten pm, you decided you had enough. Standing up to stretch your sore limbs, you threw on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, not even bothering to brush your teeth as you made a dive for your bed.

It was a dreamless night.

------

The next morning, you practically moved on autopilot. Pulling on your clothes and shoving breakfast down your throat, you left the house without even bidding your parents goodbye. You ran to the bus stop and pulled out your headphones to listen to some music.

“Yeah I know, we know If it's you, you can do it, ayy Don't give up, oh no You persevered up until now What's the worry? Believe in yourself”

That helped a lot. It calmed your racing heart and gave you hope. You struggled with some pretty harsh thoughts and just bottled it up because you didn't feel like you had anyone to talk to. Listening to their songs provided at least a little comfort and let you somehow channel this stuff out of your system.

------

The day at school was pretty uneventful, you were only assigned an English essay and a few math equations. Nothing you couldn't handle.

It must have shown that you didn't sleep too well, many of your friends asking if you were okay at the sight of the black circles under your eyes. You bit back a sob and tried to patiently assure them with a fake smile that everything was indeed okay. That you just binged a Netflix show till four am and were tired.

They all bought it.

Except for Jisung. 

He watched you like a hawk for the entire day, being extra kind and doing little things for you here and there to better your mood. You appreciated his efforts, you really did but no amount of candies and encouraging little notes would make you forget the upcoming exam as well as the stress piling up on your shoulders.

After class, you skipped lunch and went straight to your locker so you could leave as soon as possible without anyone noticing you.

“Oh hey, Y/n. Wanna grab lunch together?” Changbin smiled at you before bending down to tie his shoelaces.

Shoot. You completely forgot that Changbin didn't have lunch in the canteen on Tuesdays. You racked your brain for possible excuses, before eventually settling on the lamest one. 

“Sorry, I have to study for chem. I'll probably just get something to go near my place.”

With an apologetic expression, you backed out of the hall, and almost ran to the exit with a quiet “bye” thrown in the confused boy's direction.

You ran down the cobblestone path, ignoring the grumbling of your stomach. When you told Changbin you'd get something near your place, you were lying. You figured there wasn't time to spare and you planned to invest every second possible into preparing for the exam. You knew it was wrong, to skip meals and lock yourself in your room for hours but you didn't know any better. Every time, you told yourself it was the last time you'd pull a stunt like that but as they say...old habits die hard.

[adarlingmess]

Darling’s Diary: Life, New Tools, Moving Out, and Future Projects

Hey! It’s your darling, Sam!

A few months ago, I asked for tips and donations while I was working on my undergraduate thesis for B Fine Arts. I received sufficient help and was able to pay all the fees and costs that came with graduation! Thank you to all who pitched in!

Right now, I’m having a great time taking commissions! As a kid fresh out of college, I was anxious as hell due to the uncertain future I’m facing as a freelancer. I’ve applied for corporate positions, but due to several reasons such as poor pay and rejections, I never got one. I’m not sure if I’m made for the 9 to 5 life either...

Thankfully, I have mutuals and clients who put their faith in me and signed up for my commissions! My impostor syndrome is telling me I’m wrong, but damn, I feel like an actual professional. Despite my previous self-doubts, I feel confident calling myself a freelance illustrator now. It’s all so surreal.

Now I’m figuring out adulting stuff, like how to pay taxes. The Philippine government is known for its bureaucracy, so I’m scrambling to get the necessary documents and IDs. All I have for now is a birth certificate and passport, oof.

As for my living conditions, I am living a little more comfortably now. I can afford to buy groceries, pitch in on rent and utility fees, and occasionally treat myself to some good coffee and ice cream. Looking back, it’s a far cry during my time in college where I had to skip lunch to buy art supplies.

And, I’ve saved enough to upgrade my tools! After more than five years, I can finally retire my graphic tablet for a display tablet!

Check out my new baby! (And I’m so sorry for the mess!)

I got the XP-Pen Artist Pro 15.6 for sale! if any artists reading this is interested, their anniversary sale lasts until September 16! This isn’t sponsored in any way, I’m just happy with my experience with it so far! I also purchased a separate Parblo tablet stand because XP-Pen’s free stand isn’t adjustable, oof. All of these were possible thanks to my clients and tippers! I’m very grateful!

I’ve also saved enough money to ensure that I can afford rent and the deposit when I move out. Currently, I’m planning to move out as early as October if things go smoothly. After the move, I’ll be purchasing appliances and other household items. I have no safety nets. I don’t have any immediate relatives I can turn to for physical and financial help. My tools, skills, and labor are all I have. It’s going to be a fresh start for me and I’m equal parts nervous and excited!

That being said, I might limit my commission slots this October or open them later than usual. I need to start packing up and make arrangements. So, if anyone would like to secure a commission slot before October rolls in, I still have five open this September!

Once I’ve settled in my new place, I think I’ll finally start on projects I’ve been meaning to pick up. First on the list is my adult Fallout 3 fan comic. I’ve upgraded my CSP license from PRO to EX so comics with multiple pages are easier to create now. Then, I’m looking into making something original. My undergraduate thesis was a comic adaptation of stories from ancient Filipino mythology. The output was rushed due to strict deadlines, but I can still use my research to create something better. Penlab hosts comics by Filipino creators, and I hope I’ll get to publish my work on their platform!

Anyways, it was nice catching up with you guys! I think I might make this a regular thing, just to document my journey as an artist and keep my friends and mutuals up to speed.

[bardicious]

A Teensy Weensy Blog Update

I was quite diligently scrolling around my archive feed - privating some posts cause I just didn't like some and others had discourse I didnt care to see in my own blog (however I've kept any more recent ones cause meh - I guess the recent spite is still fresh) but what I've learned is...

a. I make way too many promises I don't follow through with, I mean well, really - but mental and physical health gets in the way and I just usually don't have as much time or interest to delve into all my artworks or post ideas.

b. those projects I promised to make are still rolling around in my brain trying to gain purchase, I cant promise that they'll ever get made or be made soon cause honestly Im having a social media melt down and need to focus on my career, so its all up in the air - still pondering the future of this blog and my time on social media

c. I have gotten angrier recently and major shocks its because I interacted with Marvel media again. That was my first mistake, really. But considering I will forever love the characters too much to abandon them - and I quite enjoy mutuals and some fans from there, I'll be making efforts to divorce myself from whatever the hell Marvel is putting out now and actually - truly - work on my interpretations of the characters. (Which will veer dramatically away from canon because not so shockingly I actually hate most of canon - I truly do - and oh please don't get me started on the writers, actors, directors that make all this garbage) (Marvel fanfic writers, I love you and only you)

d. I truly need to get back into more mellow fandoms like Garashir and Kurtbastian - cause those places be the bomb. And the bits of DC fandom that I don't want to beat with a bat. They're cool too. :) (I'm up to here with the bs discourse about batcest though - seriously dont @ me whether you hate it - I really just dont care for anti behavior)

e. I'm going to work extra hard to make this a positive space for people to follow me. Ill try to tone down negative posts (not cause I disagree with any of them - but cause I know focusing on the negatives really doesn't do anyone any good - that said don't be a dick to people who need to express their anger at something - that isn't people - basically chill the fuck out y'all and mind your business, there is a blocking function for a reason)

f. Really sad I had to turn off my anon asks cause I really did get some sweet people in there. Y'all are wonderful. I just cant cope with anonymous dick heads. <3

j. Might reblog less???? Not sure. But the amount of posts on my blog is becoming unmanageable (thats a lie, it already is - sobs-)

And yeah, that's it for now. Im still basically on hiatus until at least the new year (and gosh I actually go on hiatus quite a few times I noticed), currently living off romantic comedies and shows like the hardy boys and stargate. lmao.

Anyways, thanks yall for following, reblogging, and liking my stuff. <3 Truly whenever I see your tags and whatnot, you make my day. :)

[real-bjd-recast-community]

I’ve so far only owned legits except for a fake Blythe and an ABS hinge jointed doll that may or may not have “copied parts” even though I don’t believe that for a second. However there’s a doll that I love and was fully prepared to pay the ridiculous price for but it was discontinued. Then it turns out they suddenly brought it back for a limited release for like a week long preorder, but the artist didn’t say anything about it on their social media. They’re back to saying they probably won’t release it again because it’s too expensive and they don’t have enough interest. So I said screw it. I got an ad on AliExpress for a recast of that doll and I bought it at half the price with a nice Face-Up. To my surprise the shop was super nice and they gave me a choice of glass (not acrylic junk I’ve gotten random from legit companies) eyes to get free with my order. Also, they said my order should arrive in a month at most when both my legit dolls have taken 4-9months to come. I don’t plan to just buy recasts in the future, but honestly it was an easier decision than I thought. I buy other reproduction stuff all the time, and as an artist I’ve used other companies designs for my own shop to sell, so I decided I just couldn’t put myself above people who buy recast and neither should anyone else who’s ever purchased or used IP that doesn’t belong to them. I won’t be posting my new doll anywhere, but I don’t need to. Thank you for making this safe space.

Preach it, anon!

One of my first recasts (if not the first) was from an artist who had an INSANE limited "waiting list" of around SIX people who could buy her doll ONCE A YEAR.

And her entire website was mostly %80 in korean on a time Google translate wasn't even a thing! So no prior notice either!

I applied to the list for FOUR YEARS!

I NEVER got "selected" to BUY.

You know why?

Because doa-admins-volks-snoob-elitists where putting in the list the names of all their family! So around 3 of each order of 6 went to the same house!

How do I know?

How does everyone from that time knows?

BECAUSE A DAY AFTER ARRIVING AT THEIR HOUSE THEY USED THE DOA MARKETPLACE TO SELL IT FOR MORE THAN TWICE WHAT THEY HAD PAID FOR! (wich was already an insane price as you can imagine)

That's why they're so "upset" about recast! For them (the elitists buyers, not the artist) it was very profitable business! heII!, they could even send their kids to college with that sort of profit!

And the artist KNEW about it, and DID NOTHING. Because she just didn't care as long as she was selling.

So I bet the recaster just pony up whatever price on a MP and f*ck them, making such doll wildly available for everyone.

AND I AM GLAD.