#you can hope people appreciate the craft and intention but i Know. from day one. i must spoiler it... MYSELF.

[lyeekha]

having to tag pairings is such a bummer because i love love lovvve doing surprise cold opens and i have to do it knowing it will never, ever be a real surprise to anyone

i mean theres no way round it i know that but. blaugh.

[vroomvroomcircuit]

From all four corners of the world comes my love 4 you

(A/N): This has been written with the inspiration @foreveralbon brought me. I love you and your incredibly mind, honey

Summary: Lando's girlfriend is a seamstress working at a tailor shop. She is repairing his clothes, he is cutting holes into his sleeves. Together, they release the cutest merch

Pairing: Lando x fem!reader

Warnings: None, this is so fluffy, I'm crying myself to sleep. I need a Lando like this

Wordcount: 2.9k

🏎Masterlist🏎 __________________________

(Y/N) thinks she is about to go crazy. Manic even.

Over and over again she patches up holes in her boyfriend’s long sleeves.

And over and over again new holes appear. It’s like this is her Sysiphus task. Just repairing Lando’s clothes day in and day out.

Don’t get her wrong. (Y/N) does this for three different reasons.

The first being that she is a seamstress, working in a tailor shop. This craft is how she pays her rent and food.

The second reason is that she really can’t have her boyfriend go out looking like he just got picked up at the side of the road begging for a warm meal and shelter.

The third reason may be less obvious than the previous ones. Acts of services is (Y/N)’s love language. She is not particularly good at letting people around her know of the appreciation she holds for them. Verbally at least. It’s not the way she grew up. She learned that actions speak louder than words can. So patching up her boyfriend’s clothes gives the young woman the opportunity to prove how much she loves him. She just hopes that Lando understands the meaning as it is intended.

Little does (Y/N) know, Lando really appreciates her patching up holes. What he isn’t a big fan of is when she repairs those that are intentional. The ones in his long sleeves are put there on purpose.

While (Y/N) is meticulously sewing, Lando goes snip snip in the other room with a pair of scissors. He just loves having sleeve paws, but it’s annoying when his thumbs are jailed in.

“Lando, have you seen my scis- What are you doing there?!” He turns around, looking at his girlfriend like a child being caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Freeing my thumbs?” He tries to explain in a small voice, scared that she is about to go off on him for ruining his clothes.

(Y/N) sits down next to him on the ground. “If you have told me you want thumb holes, I could have done it for you. I would hem them for you, so they won’t fry. If you want me to, can I take some of your shirts to the shop tomorrow and work on them during slow times?” The way Lando’s eyes light up makes her wish for a camera to keep the memory of it.

(Y/N) not only fixes the holes in his sleeves.

“Love, would you put another patch on my jeans?” Lando saunters into her little crafting room. When she moved into his apartment in Monaco, he insisted on transforming a guest room into her own sewing cave. It was only fair. He got his gaming room as his hobby room, so his girlfriend needs her own territory too.

The room is filled with different sewing machines, one wall is decorated with threads of all kinds, colors and thicknesses. Several shelves are overflowing with different fabrics of any kind imaginable. Every shade, pattern or reflection that any crafter would kill for. Lando really spoils her and happily let’s (Y/N) run loose in a craft store, draining his credit card to her heart's fullest content.

(Y/N) would feel bad, if it wasn’t for the big difference in salaries they sport. Also, it is Lando’s way of treating his girl. Instead of flowers or a bag he buys her a new Bernina B 325, which is not something she is exactly complaining about. They share most of their expenses, but still, working at a tailor shop will never make you a millionaire.

Currently working on her own project of making a quilt out of scrap fabric for Max’s upcoming birthday, (Y/N) barely looks up to her boyfriend. “Yes, of course, sunshine. Just put it over there and I’ll have a look at it in a bit. Do you have any preference for the new patch? I ordered city themed ones a few days back and they arrived today.”

Without having to be pointed into the direction, the Brit already goes through the drawer that is solely dedicated to the patches (Y/N) accumulated during the last few years.

If he is being honest, that kind of work of hers is his favorite. Lando is just amazed by the different shapes, colors and themes her collection entails and how her delicate efforts bring a new individual mark to his favorite pair of jeans.

“I think I want to go with this one,” he mumbles after sifting through the drawer. Lando places a small rose next to the currently used sewing machine for her to not have to search for it in the midst of the chaos that is going on on the several desks in this hobby room.

He actually loves spending some down time here, especially when his girlfriend is working on her own projects. Lando hides under one of the desks, sometimes scrabbling away on pieces of paper for the next helmet sketch, sometimes answering some important emails on his laptop and other times he lies down between different piles of fabric and takes a nap. Having (Y/N) hack away with the machine, occasionally cursing under her breath when she pinches herself sewing something by hand or the music playing on a low volume brings Lando great comfort.

Spending quality time this way is secretly Lando’s happy place that he visits mentally during stressful patches when he is away.

A couple days later the door to the tailor shop (Y/N) works at rings the bell, alerting her of a new customer. “I’ll be with you in a second!” She calls from an adjoining room, cleaning up her work space from the trims that have been left by the jeans she just shortened.

“How can I hel- LANDO!” The young woman exclaims, rounding the register to jump into his arms. “I thought you’ll return from Australia tomorrow”, she murmurs into his shirt. The thumbs are, of course, able to escape through the holes she recently cut and hemmed like promised.

He laughs into her hair. “I wanted to surprise you and pick you up from work like the good boyfriend I am. I also got you something from ‘Straya.” Out of thin air (his back pocket actually) Lando procures a small stack of Australia themed patches.

“Oh, honey, they are perfect. Thank you so so much!” She kisses him all over the face until finally putting her lips onto his. “Just let me close the shop and we can go home and enjoy our evening.” Lando presses another kiss onto her lips, “Hurry up, I can’t wait holding you in my arms again.”

While (Y/N) packs her things up, Lando goes through a stack of different fabrics. One in particular catches his eye.

“Hey love, where did you get this heart patterned fabric? What do you have planned with that?” (Y/N) pops her head in to see what her boyfriend is pointing to. “Oh, that one. The owner was negotiating a deal with a new supplier and wanted to check out the quality. We wanted to see if this one is durable enough to make shirts out of it.”

An idea is forming in Lando’s app, that he quickly puts down in the notes app on his phone.

She emerges from the side room with her back and something else. “Would you try this on for me?” (Y/N) asks innocently, handing Lando a jean jacket. It is a bit oversized on him, just the way he likes.

“It’s pretty nice. What do you need me to model this fo- This is one of the patches I just gave you!” Lando admires the kangaroo that looks like it’s taking a jump on the sleeve. “I thought this would be a fun little project for the season. After every race I’ll put a patch from that country on the jacket. I can also stitch some additions onto it as well for when you get a podium or win or are voted as driver of the day and so on. Just, I thought this could be something cute.” (Y/N)’s face heats up the more she talks about her idea.

Lando pulls her into his arms, squishing his girlfriend as close as possible to his body. “Thank you, you don’t know how much I appreciate the work and thought you put and are putting into this.”

Like the proud trophy boyfriend he is, Lando loves modeling whatever his girlfriend sewed, patched up or created and pimped up in some other way while entering the paddock. Just as he predicted mentally, the fans are going crazy about his jacket online as he wears it on Wednesday for media day.

“I see, (Y/N) loved the patches you bought her. At least dragging me through every craft store in Melbourne that I know of has paid off for you”, Oscar remarks dryly as he watches Lando hanging up the jacket in the hospitality.

“Yeah mate, she sewed it on immediately. It’s her newest project, putting on a patch for every country we race in during this season after the race. She also wants to add a bunch of things for special occasions during the races.” Lando explains fondly the thought process behind the jacket.

As he is leaving the paddock later that day and signing several cards, caps and other merch, some fans ask him where he got the jacket from. “Oh, that old thing? I’ll gatekeep this one. Good luck on finding the store.” He answers a young woman while putting a bracelet she handed him on his wrist.

He hasn’t gone public with his girlfriend yet. The people know that he is in a relationship with Lando having started an already several months long soft launch, that includes their socked feet during movie nights and her backside in beautiful sunset scenes. So nobody knows what she does for work and the two of them want to keep the little bubble of secrecy they have so far going for a bit longer. Out of the public eyes without the pressure of fans and media.

It felt like a scavenger hunt going online and seeing fans and other media outlets trying to find Lando’s particular jean jacket. For the two of them it becomes their evening entertainment, reading up how everyone and their mother are losing their minds from not being able to detect where it is from.

“The chat is asking about that dumb cloth again. Just tell them where you got it.” Max groans, even his own chat during the stream isn’t safe from the assault. Lando, who chills on his bed while waiting for a message from his girlfriend about her being done with work, just smiles. “Come one, please lift the secret. I can’t even roll my eyes often enough times, that is how annoyed I am by this whole thing.”

The Brit loves the suspension around the subject, but gets up and saunters over to the monitors. “Ok Chat, I will only say it once and never again. Get your pens and papers out and write it down. So, this jean jacket with the patches is a designer piece. You can’t get it anywhere else, it was custom made and no, the designer doesn’t want to go into mass production with that one. But I am cooking something up. Just be patient, I feel like I will be able to make a deal for you. I just need to work my magic, but that takes time. My name is not Tinkerbell.” 

His little sass tirade is broken up by the ping of his phone, making Lando scramble for it to see his love’s text. “Chat, do you see how down bad that man is for his girlfriend?” Max ridicules Lando, giving him payback for all the teasing against himself.

While the chat is going insane, with the certainty that this moment has been clipped and will be used for edits by the fans, Lando just smiles at his phone, shooting a quick reply of picking her up. After that he packs his stuff and throws a quick goodbye to Max and the stream, onto the way to the tailor shop.

There she stands, his love in all her glory in front of the closed store. “Didn’t I tell you to wait in the building for me? It’s dangerous to be out alone, especially for such a beautiful person like you!” Lando scolds her lightly when he reaches her, taking her bag from her shoulder, throwing it onto his own back.

But (Y/N) presses a kiss to his lips, trying to soothe him. “It’s all ok. When I saw the headlights of your car, I stepped out and closed the shop behind me. I knew that my Tinkerbell was close by in case I needed saving.”

Lando wants to reciprocate the kiss, but stops mid air when he processes her words. “You watched the stream?” That shocks him a bit, because (Y/N) usually keeps out of this part of his life. It’s not really her world, streaming and gaming. So that’s one of the hobbies they don’t share, being the healthy couple, without a horrible codependency, they are.

“No, a friend sent me that clip a few minutes earlier”, she snickers, “Were you talking about me? About wanting to work a deal out?” Lando throws his arm around her shoulders, leading the young woman into the direction of where he parked his car. “I did. Originally I planned on woohing you by a nice candle light dinner and after that I wanted to ask you if you were open with making a few designs for LN4. The fans are going crazy over the pants and jacket. You also have the eye for the details that I love on clothes. It would make me so happy to hold something in my hands that we both worked on, to know that people in the whole world will wear it.”

(Y/N) looks up at her boyfriend, watching his side profile while he is rambling about the meaning of a collab between the two of them. How he can’t stop smiling over the excitement of the prospect of their merch line together, the way his eyes light up, his free hand gesturing while explaining a few ideas he has saved on his phone. She can’t help but press another kiss onto his cheek, effectively quieting him down.

“I will make that collab with you happen. I already have a few things drawn out in a notebook, I was just too scared to show you the sketches, not wanting to intrude or impose myself onto your business.”

Instead of saying anything, he just picks her up and throws them in a circle. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He repeats over and over, both laughing about his childish antics.

A couple of months, several trial and errors as well as creative differences later, they stand in a studio, overseeing the photoshooting with the new collection.

“Wouldn’t this be the perfect way to launch our relationship to the public? With your face visible in the pictures?” Lando muses out loud while looking over a rack with hoodies. (Y/N) throws him a shocked look. “I mean, we can take a couple of pictures together with a few articles and also take a few of you individually too. The world needs to know the mastermind of these designs. You need to take credit for all the hard work you have done.” He explains, taking her hand and gesturing to the set up with the other.

She lets the idea rummage a bit in her head. It would be the perfect way to go public, especially since this is the first time her designs are commercially sold. (Y/N) breaks out into a smile, nodding rapidly. Lando can’t help but also smile, getting infected by his girlfriend’s happiness.

Weeks after that the new merch drop gets released to social media. The press and fans are eating up the couple's pictures, finally having a face to the woman, who is able to fluster Lando through text messages alone.

The clothes itself also get the best feedback.

A variety of the jean jacket and patched pants are now available for fans to buy, being able to kind of replicate Lando’s paddock look, coupled with a heart patterned hoodie from the collection.

But nothing gets close to the original with the many hand sewn details on Lando’s jacket, even when fans try to imitate them. A nice side effect is seeing other people picking up the craft of hand sewing and stitching.

Many people swoon over the long sleeves with cut out thumb holes. They especially love the heart shape of the holes.

It’s a perfect detail to the name of the new line.

‘From all four corners of the world comes my love 4 you’ is printed in one way or another on every piece.

Because no matter the distance between Lando and (Y/N), they can feel the love for each other over any distance.

[lalal-99]

of the big city {h.j.} | track 2

©March 2023, February 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6.9k

Synopsis: The one where uni starts and you meet some interesting people.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: The next chapters are gonna be much shorter, I promise. The overwork is going smoothly so far, I have the next chapter ready and will probably post beginning of next week. I also wrote two whole new chapters this week which I'm very proud of. I really hope I can finish this story this time around :)

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Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Baby? Do you have some paper for me?”

With an annoyed eye roll you ripped a page from your new notebook, smoothing over the edges of the torn binder. You pushed the single page over towards him with reluctance.

“You forgot your notebook on the first day already?”

And to think notebooks and pens were the main reason you had gone to the store yesterday.

“Don’t blame me. You know I’m not a morning person. And you didn’t want to wake me up with sex, so...” The smugness in his voice made you wonder if he actually thought he had won this discussion. You raised your eyebrows at him, hinting at the thinness the metaphorical ice on which he was walking.

You usually didn’t get annoyed that easy. If you had, your relationship sure as hell wouldn’t have lasted this long. The reason: Jisung and his lack of understanding social cues. To take the hint and not bother you any further when you were already frustrated, all it took was a look.

Although he wasn’t the reason for your irritation today. Or at least not the sole one.

It was the first day of university, so naturally, you were a little on edge. Whatever happened from this day on would decide over the paths your life took in the future. It was a step you had waited so long to take but dreaded all the same. Jisung, as your loving boyfriend, should have known how much this meant to you.

Sometimes, you speculated if he did it on purpose. Rile you up when you were anxious to give you something to put your focus on instead. His intentions might have been sweet, but this wasn’t taking any tension off your shoulders. Jisung forgetting his notebook and blaming you for it, even as a joke, could have likely been the last straw.

“Baby?” As you looked back at him, you noticed his cute pout. It was almost cute enough to make you forget what you had been so annoyed about a minute earlier. “Do you also have a spare pen? And some highlighters would be nice, too.”

Shaking your head at Jisung, you let out a snort. So he hadn’t forgotten just his notebook, but his pen and highlighter too? Got it. Very unwillingly, you handed him the items. You thankfully always had a spear set in case of emergency. Or, in this case, your boyfriend’s scatterbrain you had been dealing with for many years already.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He blew you a playful kiss, thanking you for your service. “Don’t let this become a habit. I’m not piggybacking you through university as I did in High School. Understood?”

As much as you loved him, Jisung had his fair share of annoyances. Like his living-in-the-moment type of attitude. A contrast to your thoroughly organised persona, you usually appreciated your differences. Without his Yin, your Yang wouldn’t shine as bright and vice versa.

That still didn’t change that you wouldn’t be his personal secretary this time around.

Jisung was old enough to care for himself and not rely on his girlfriend for every one of his needs. Whether it was some paper and pens, your skillfully crafted cue cards, or an all-nighter before one of his final exams. How ever you had talked him into studying for that one anyways.

“I love you, too.”

If he only weren’t so damn cute.

Out of pure principle you ignored his comment with an unintentional snicker. You continued your draft outline on your first notebook page—your attempt of getting a head start on future lecture notes—thus almost missing the voice chatting up Jisung.

“I’m taking you won’t be sleeping in the dorm a lot, will you?”

The depth of the second voice made you look up from your notebook. As the light shone into the room from behind the boy, it almost blinded you. Once your eyes got used to the brightness, you could finally make out a lean figure. He set a reusable coffee cup on the desk next to Jisung before sliding onto the wooden chair.

The boy was clad in comfortable attire, loose hanging jeans paired with a simple t-shirt. His long, blonde hair messily framed his face, a green beanie rounding off his skater-boy look. Something told you he had more to himself than what his cover showed. The several silver rings on his fingers could have been the reason for your suspicion. Or it was how he carried himself—a perfect line leading from his soles to the tip of his head. In exact contradiction to your boyfriend’s slouching posture.

“Morning to you too, sunshine.” The smirk in Jisung’s tone indicated his playfulness and a sense of closeness. “Why do you care? You’re not in love with me, are you?”

“No,” the boy scoffed, his bag placed neatly under the table. “I just wondered if I can stop waiting up for you or if I will have to identify your corpse at some point.”

Looking past Jisung, the boy noticed your presence, sending you a heart-warming smile. The freckles all over his nose and cheeks juxtaposed the darkness of his voice and over-all looks. Something about his aura relaxed you, his company drenching his atmosphere in happiness.

“Hi, I’m Felix!”

“I’m Y/N. I’m Jisung’s-”

“Girlfriend. Yeah, I know. He talks about you a lot.”

Jisung leaned in closer to you, though he kept his voice at the same volume, “Be careful, baby. He’s very much in love with me already. I might leave you for him.”

“You can have him.” You leaned past your boyfriend, directly addressing Felix. “But make sure to always have a spare pen and paper. And also a spare pair of pants.” The scene from earlier this morning came back to mind, a teasing look creeping onto your face. “He might say he can care for himself, but he will wear your leggings and pink baby-girl crop top when there’s no alternative.”

“Good to know,” Felix replied with a deep chuckle, amused by the picture you had painted. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, showing off his ears and all the piercings. Okay, so, definitely not a skater-boy-type.

“You might be joking now.” Jisung threw a know-all look in your direction. “But you won’t be laughing when I wear your fishnets to your grandpa’s next birthday.”

“Don’t you dare put on my fishnets! They were expensive.”

“That’s alright. We’re about the same size, so he can wear mine.” Felix’s words came unexpected and not even Jisung couldn’t conceal his amusement.

“Great, there’s two of you now. Is it too late to drop out?”

In all the years you had known him, Jisung rarely ever made friends this easy. Not even a week on campus, and he had gotten close enough to Felix to joke in his usual manner. How they had even gotten this close when Jisung had spent most of the day at your place was a mystery to you. Still, the little time they had spent together was enough to have discovered a mutual hobby—catching Pokémon. As they argued over who had found the rarest creature, you picked up your previous task. Though that didn’t stop your joy in finding that Jisung had made a friend. And a nice one at that.

You felt guilty for even thinking it, but Jisung had never been particularly good at making friends. Not before meeting you and not afterwards either.

Most of all, you blamed the lack of a ‘do not say’-filter in his conversational skills. His openness posed an obstacle to making new acquaintances—or at least it had many times before. After years of getting side-eyed or complained about, he had stopped talking to new people all together. Like he already expected the sole attempt to make connection to backfire. The few relationships he had formed despite his shyness had been pure luck. And your very own relationship only existed due to your perseverance.

That Jisung had already befriended Felix, at least as much as possible in three days, put you in a bright mood. One of your biggest fears about moving was your boyfriend rooming with someone he didn’t get along with. With someone as talkative and easily compatible as Felix, Jisung would likely not be clinging to you as much. Which wouldn’t have been the worst scenario, but still.

With every passing minute the lecture hall filled more. When something sharp scratched your shin, your head finally snapped towards one of the new-comers. A blonde girl had sat down next to you, and you found the culprit when you noticed her pink heels.

“Oh my God. Did I hit you? I’m so sorry.” Her hand came to her mouth in shock as she apologised a couple of times. You rubbed over the sensitive skin which was already bruising from when you had hit that crate of boxes yesterday. Talk about unfortunate accidents. You pushed the urge to groan at the pain down, forcing a smile onto your face instead. “It’s those dang heels. I knew I should have worn the sneakers today.”

“It’s fine. Surprised me, that’s all.” Embarrassment reached over her cheeks to her ears, a frown painting her face. “No worries.”

For a few seconds she hesitated but finally accepted your willingness to let it go. Out of the corner of your eye, you followed her as she unloaded the contents of her purse. She pulled out a torn notepad and a vintage-leather pencil case, which must have seen better days. She reached back into her designer bag, face distraught as her search came up empty.

She tried grabbing the attention of two boys on her right side, tied deep into their conversation. When she eventually realised she had no other option, her gaze tiptoed towards you. “Sorry to bother you again.” Teeth nibbling at her lip, she forced herself to get over her embarrassing mistake seconds earlier. “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Even if your shin had hurt worse, you would have still helped her out. With a genuine smile, you nodded, searching your pencil case and then your bag.

“I wanted to grab one before leaving my room, but I noticed a stain on my shirt and needed to change it. So, I forgot about the pen,” the girl recounted her morning ventures. “I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you assured her. Your smile turned to an apologetic scowl once you realised you couldn’t help her out after all. “I’m sorry. I always carry at least one extra pen, but scatterbrain next to me left his head in bed this morning.”

“You talking ‘bout me?”

Jisung, who you hadn’t expected to react to the mention of his unflattering nickname, turned to you.

“Hey, Felix,” you called the boy two seats from yours, ignoring your boyfriend. “Do you happen to have a spare pen?”

“Sure. I always carry an extra one in case.”

“Interesting. So, some people do use their heads before leaving the house.” It was a reproachful remark addressed to Jisung and his forgetfulness, and he caught the meaning.

“Some people do use their heads before leaving the house,” he scrunched his nose, teasing you by mimicking your voice and repeating your previous words as you snickered. Your perfect boyfriend, everyone.

Felix handed the pen from his jacket past you, the girl accepting it with a thankful smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I usually go by Felix. But lifesaver is good, too.”

The girl giggled, before introducing herself, “I’m Yuqi. I live in the student housing off campus. You know, the ones next to that coffee shop with the green doors. It’s open 24/7. Genius marketing move, right?” Biting her lip after that info dump, you noticed her nose doing a little scrunch. “Sorry. I talk a lot.”

“I haven’t noticed,” Jisung joked, your elbow gracing his rib at his sarcasm. You wondered if there would ever come a day you didn’t have to act as his personalised filter.

“Don’t listen to the idiot next to me,” you declared, “I find it charming.”

“Me, too,” Felix agreed, and Yuqi relaxed. It told you that she usually didn’t get that reaction when spraying words like a waterfall.

“I live in the same building.”

Excitement took over her features. “What? No way! Which room?”

“B4.”

Yuqi shrieked, her hand touching your arm, “I’m B12! That makes us floormates.”

“I guess it does.” Yuqi was the first person you met who lived in the same building that wasn’t your roommate or her girlfriend. “I’m Y/N. And this,” you thumbed back at your boyfriend, “this is Jisung.”

“Hi,” he greeted her with an awkward wave.

“Nice to meet you all.”

With that, Yuqi picked up her purse, pulling out an old folder. Well, it appeared to be rather new, but the edges were already torn, some of the plastic cover coming off the corners. The latter especially gave you an ick, and you forcefully pushed down the urge to smooth over them. You could handle some chaos, even if this was a lot.

Good thing, Yuqi spoke up again, giving something different to concentrate on.

“What’s your major?”

“I’m doing Business Admin.” Before you could return the question, Yuqi already reacted, hand touching your biceps in excitement.

“No freakin’ way! I’m in Marketing.” The delight in her voice was addictive as you couldn’t help a grin pulling on your lips. “See, I even wore the perfect outfit for our first lecture later today.”

Yuqi leaned back, giving you a better look at her clothing.

She was in a pair of white jeans, a rosé-coloured blouse adorning the upper half of her lean figure. A single, thin gold necklace decorated her neckline, fitting the two golden earrings. The one thing that stood out in that well-rounded outfit was her other earrings. About a dozen of them decorated both ears from the dainty top to the slim bottom. To round the fit off, she wore a pair of light-pink high heels. The very same that had already made acquaintance with your shin.

“Pretty, right?”

“Very girlboss,” you agreed in earnest. Your own clothes contrasted her colourful optics, made up of mostly black items.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only girl in the classes.” There was a hint of playful disgust in her statement, making you chuckle. “All the other people I met who are in Business were boys. Not that boys are bad or anything. I love boys. But they can be—a lot.”

“I get it. I lived with three boys back home. Well, technically, my dad is a man,” you air-quoted, “but where’s the difference, right?” Yuqi chuckled. “It’s nice to have a girl around every once in a while.”

Yuqi reached for her coffee cup as her gaze wandered to the grey haired middle-aged man who entered the room. He walked up to the desk at the end of the hall, his briefcase landing on the table with a loud thud.

With that, you straightened up, pen in hand and ready to take notes the second your prof opened his mouth.

05:23 PM: Hey, are you studying in the dorm tonight?—Y/N 05:25 PM: No. The place is all yours :)—Hwasa 05:25 PM: Is lover boy coming over again ;)—Hwasa 05:26 PM: He’s hanging out with his roommate tonight... Bonding. I’m thinking about inviting a friend over. I met her at orientation earlier this week—Y/N 05:27 PM: Sounds fun—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Anything special planned?—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Not yet. Maybe eat something and a movie? Explore the city?—Y/N 05:28 PM: You wanna explore this bar Joey’s? I’m meeting some friends there later. Happy Hour starts at 8—Hwasa 05:29 PM: You sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude—Y/N 05:29 PM: I told you I’d be taking you out one of these days—Hwasa 05:30 PM: Texting you the address right now!—Hwasa

Stepping through the dark wooden doors, a wall of warmth hit you like a thick blanket.

It had gotten colder the past few days, fall beginning to hit the city. You took off your scarf, looking around the place in search of the familiar, pretty face.

This place seemed to be the city’s hotspot, every table packed to full capacity. Red velveteen clad the round tables right by the entrance, the seating options becoming wider once you reached the back. Couches fanned out in random patterns all over the dark oak floor. The furniture’s vintage finish further accented the brown parquet.

You felt like you had stepped straight into a movie scene.

The wave of a dainty hand over the crowd’s heads caught your attention as you spotted your roommate in the back. You grabbed Yuqi by the hem of her sleeve, dragging her behind you as you made your way to the group of girls with a smile.

“Hello,” you greeted the table once you had gotten close enough for them to see you.

Hwasa hugged you in bliss, almost tipping over the drink in front of her, “Hi! I’m so glad you could make it.” As she noticed Yuqi, she pulled her in for another warm embrace, “Nice to meet you! I’m Hwasa.”

“Yuqi,” your friend replied, joy written on her face at the enthusiastic welcome.

Knowing Hwasa and her usual calm persona, you knew she must have already taken full advantage of Happy Hour.

“Nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself to the two unfamiliar faces, sending Wheein a quick nod as she met it with a smile.

The two girls with your roommate and her girlfriend couldn’t have been much older than them. The first had straight black hair reaching the bottom of her back, at least from what you could tell. The other sported a short grey bob. It highlighted her sharp jaw in what you could only describe as a tomboy-ish look. Like Wheein and Hwasa, they were beautiful and made you somewhat self-conscious. You shouldn’t have come here unprepared, or put on mascara, at least.

First to introduce herself was the black-haired girl, her smile almost blinding you. “Hi, I’m Solar.”

An extraordinary name for an extraordinary beautiful person. Fitting. In your mind, there was no doubt she made people of any gender fall in love with her the moment she stepped into a room. Her calm, almost carefree aura was truly something else.

“And I’m Byul.” She was just as pretty, though in a less traditional sense. A boyish charm surrounded her, though her blazer hinted at a seriousness to her person. She looked—important.

You introduced yourself and Yuqi, pulling out the two remaining chairs. They must have fought off several people to reserve these. “Are you students, too?”

“We used to be,” Solar explained as she emptied her tulip-coloured drink.

The girls seemed to have stocked up on various drinks; more glasses than people were at the table. If the drinks were half as good as they looked, you’d be in for a long night.

“We graduated last year,” the black-haired beauty continued, bumping shoulders with Hwasa. “I used to be Hwasa’s roommate, actually.”

“I didn’t even notice!” Hwasa giggled, thus proving your assumption about the amount of alcohol consumed before your arrival. “She’s my ex, and you’re my next.”

You chuckled in amusement, reaching for the menu at the edge of the table. The faux leather was soft beneath your fingertips as you skimmed over the Happy Hour options. When your eyes landed on your favourite drink, a smile spread on your lips as you handed the menu over to Yuqi.

“They have Long Island Ice Tea in three different flavours?” Yuqi exclaimed, the scenic buzz of this place rubbing off on her. Not that she wasn’t this emotional about almost anything. “Would it be very immature to try them all tonight?”

“Not at all. I am browsing through the new offers myself. We can get drunk together.”

Not a fair fight. Hwasa had already gotten a head start.

You called over the waiter by raising your hand, and he headed for your table not a minute later. He raised an unintentional eyebrow at the consumption level—One Mojito, three Long Island Ice Teas and another Piña Colada and Gin Tonic. Even so, the boy sent you a smile, spinning around and wandering back to the bar.

Once he was gone, Hwasa swiftly emptied her previous drink. All it took was one strong sip through her straw, and the Tonic and ice was gone. The coldness reached her brain soon after, prompting her eyes to grow wider—like those of a comic-book figure.

“Babe, you should slow down,” Wheein suggested with a chuckle. But her girlfriend waved her off.

“I’m fine. Also, I don’t have any courses tomorrow, so I have the whole day to sleep off that hangover I’ll be having.”

“Great. I’ll remind you when you’re hugging the toilet seat later.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mhm.” Wheein didn’t seem uber-convinced Hwasa would keep her promise but let it go anyways.

As the girls went back to their previous conversation, you tried your best to follow them.

You understood that Solar was passed over for a big promotion at her job and that she was convinced, her boss was sleeping with her opponent.

“What do you do for work?” Yuqi’s question took the words right out of your mouth.

“I am an assistant buyer at a small fashion label,” Solar explained, making you look at Hwasa in surprise.

“Don’t you also study fashion?” Taking a sip from her already empty glass, she nodded in silence. You frowned when you noticed her uncomfortable look at Wheein following your words. There must have been some form of backstory, and the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward. Instead you attempted correcting your mistake. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

Passing a few glances around the table, Byul finally spoke up. “Our cutie Hwasa here used to study Chemistry full-time. She developed a small crush on Solar in her second year, so, she changed majors to spend more time with her.”

It took a moment to dawn on you why Wheein and Hwasa had reacted the way they did.

“Yes, but I hadn’t met my love then.” Hwasa bobbed her girlfriend’s nose, pouting to cheer her up. After a few seconds, Wheein couldn’t stop her frown from turning into a giggle. They were just the cutest.

“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

“Drunk of love!”

“I stand corrected. You’re absolutely hammered.”

Playfully nudging her girlfriend, Wheein relaxed, emptying her own drink. Non-alcoholic, from what you had gathered.

“Anyways, since Solar is into boys only—”

“Men,” Solar interrupted her friend with a sigh. “I stopped dating boys a long time ago. They never know where to put things.”

“Sorry, since Solar is into men only,” Byul corrected, her eyes meeting yours again, “that didn’t work out. Now Hwasa is stuck with fashion. She met Wheein not too long after.”

“That’s right!”

The enthusiasm in her reaction made Hwasa finally tip over her glass. The melted ice cubes went all over the table, the cool liquid running down the sides. Some of it landed on your jeans, so while Hwasa apologised profusely, you called over the waiter a second time in five minutes.

A moment later, the young man rushed over with your drinks, handing you a towel to dry yourself. It didn’t go by you that his gaze focused on you for a few extra beats, but you ignored it. Your returned the now moist towel with kindness and he left with a light blush.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.” Solar’s caught your attention by the touch of her hand as she nodded towards the waiter.

“Notice what?”

“That the waiter was flirting with you,” she explained, looking around the table. “You noticed too, didn’t you?”

Byul agreed, “Sure did.”

“You’re not one of those girls who are, like, super slow on cues, right?” You chuckled at her question, shaking your head.

“No, I noticed, too.”

The confusion on the beauty’s face made you chuckle a little. “So what, then? He’s cute. Get his number.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You waived her off, taking a sip from your fresh drink. The rum burned down your throat, the lime juice and sugar adding a bittersweet taste to it. “Also, I don’t think my boyfriend would be particularly happy with me asking other men for their number.”

If everyone’s focus hadn’t been on you already, it sure was now.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Solar seemed surprised by the information.

“Is it serious? I mean, you obviously shouldn’t cheat on him. But you are at university. If you don’t explore and get to know yourself now, when will you get another chance?”

You took another sip to ease the discomfort from being the center of attention. Not exactly where you usually were. “We’ve been together for five years. I’d say that’s pretty serious.” That did the trick, her mouth now agape in shock. She leaned in closer to you, cradling her chin in her palm.

“Five years? So, you’re High School Sweet Hearts?”

“Middle School, actually.”

“Is he any hot?” Yuqi interrupted, also leaning in further. How your relationship had become the talk of the whole table had gone right by you.

“What do you mean? You met him at orientation. He sat right next to me.”

“No way! That’s your boyfriend?” You hummed, agreeing. “But you called him dumbass like 5 times in one hour.”

“I did, but it’s more a term of endearment. I call Jisung dumbass; he calls me stupid. It’s a whole thing.”

As soon as you had cleared that up, Solar was back at it, hitting you with question after question.

“Wait, but like, for real. You’ve never been with anyone else since Middle School?”

You shook your head, correcting her statement. “I’ve never been with anyone else ever.”

Usually, you never talked about yourself and your relationship this much. You were rather private in that sense, though, you also understood their curiosity. It wasn’t every day that you met someone who had been with the same person since they were 14. You understood the length of your relationship was uncommon for someone your age.

“So, he’s your first boyfriend?”

“Yup.”

“So, you never kissed anyone else? Had sex with anyone else?” Byul further interrogated, now also fully invested in your love life. That you had only met the girls maybe 20 minutes ago seemed irrelevant. Not like you hadn’t seen that question coming sooner or later.

You agreed with a nod. “I never wanted anyone else.”

“How do you even maintain a relationship for that long?” Yuqi budded in again, her focus different from the older women’s. “My longest relationship lasted 4 months, and then I got tired of him.” For some reason, her statement made so much sense to you. Yuqi definitely needed constant excitement to fill her heart. “What’s your secret.”

You thought about it before answering shortly, “Shared trauma, maybe?” When no one laughed at your words, you backtracked. Your honesty might have been too much for them after all. “That was a joke. Obviously. We have a lot in common and went through similar stuff in life.”

It became quiet for a few seconds, though you sensed that Solar was holding back. Whatever she might have had dancing on the tip of her tongue, she took her sweet time wording it in her pretty head.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Always a great way to start a sentence. “If the shoe fits, tie that bitch up. But you’re in college now. This is your time to explore your interests—your options. No one comes out of college the way they go in. It’s a life-changing experience.”

“So, I should cheat on my boyfriend, is what you’re saying?” You started getting a little defensive now that your love life appeared to be under attack. All the attention got uncomfortable as much as you understood where it was coming from.

“That’s not what I was saying at all.” Some of the tension fell from your shoulders. “I’m saying people change. So, don’t be surprised if your boyfriend and you don’t work out.” Still not the direction you wanted this conversation to go. But Solar continued anyway. “Take Byul, for example.”

Solar leaned back, her hand coming to her friend’s shoulder.

“Byul started college, wanting to become a lawyer.” Byul nodded, agreeing. Her blazer somehow made more sense now. “She finished her degree and opened her own music production studio not two months later. And Hwasa—” With that, Solar went on to your roommate, who threw her a playful wink. “The first year of college, she cycled between so many partners, we were certain, she’d end up pregnant or with an STD. And look at her now.”

From how lovingly Hwasa was gazing at Wheein, there was no doubt in your mind that she had happily moved on from those days.

“And when Wheein started college,” Solar continued her list, “she was straight as a ruler. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I do.”

And it was the truth. You understood that most people used college to find their path in life. The women around you were the best example for it. All four of them had found their place in the world, who they wanted to be, through university. You didn’t doubt that whatever had happened to them was necessary for them to grow into the women they were today.

At the same time, you knew your life better than anyone else at this table. You remembered every little thing you had gone through together, with Jisung. You understood how his mind worked. What he struggled with and how to get him through it emotionally—you had witnessed most of it with your own eyes.

And there was nothing one-sided about it either. There was no doubt in your mind that the same went for Jisung. He knew you like the palm of his hand—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m still very sure we are not gonna break up.”

“I hope you don’t.” Yuqi finally came to your rescue, cutting the tensive atmosphere. “He’s adorable.”

Thankfully, Solar accepted it as the end of story. She sat back as Yuqi diverted the conversation from you to Byul, asking her about her work at the studio. You calmed down as the centre of attention drew from you and towards the ins and outs of the music industry. When Hwasa playfully bumped her shoulder into yours, you looked up at her. A teasing wink showcased her support and affection. And probably her drunkenness.

“Sorry about her. Solar can be very straightforward, but she has a good soul. She’s a realist, and very openly so.”

“It’s alright,” you told her, taking your glass and a huge sip of your Mojito. “I know most relationships at our age don’t last. But we’re solid as a rock. It’d need a tsunami to separate us.”

You hoped the rest of the night would go a little less awkward than this. Though, as the alcohol ultimately entered your system, you soon forgot about the whole conversation.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

A second later Hwasa bent over the nearest bush.

“What happened?”

“She got sick,” you explained the situation as you used your hair tie to fixate Hwasa’s long locks behind her neck. “You good?”

Hwasa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and nodded as she stumbled towards the housing entrance. Wheein supported her other side, the two of you exchanging concerned looks.

“Is she gonna be alright?”

“I think so. It usually takes a glass of water and an aspirin, and she’ll be back to her old self.” You didn’t doubt Wheein knew how her girlfriend usually handled alcohol. “I’m gonna take her to my room to make sure. It’s closer to the bathroom, and I don’t have a roommate she could disturb.”

“You have a single room?” Yuqi questioned in surprise. Her enthusiasm after midnight was still higher than yours had been all evening. “Man, I should become dorm supervisor next year.”

“It has its perks.”

Yuqi took over once you had reached your room, holding up Hwasa so they could lead her to her girlfriend’s room.

“Good night. Call me if you need help,” you told Wheein, who nodded thankfully.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” After Yuqi had bidden her goodbye, you turned to your door, entering the four-digit code to unlock it.

Once inside, you rid yourself of your shoes, turning the lights on as you set your bag down by your dresser.

A groan came from your bed, making you jump and stumble back against the wooden cupboard. Your blanket moved at the disturbance, a bulge the size of a grown person appearing underneath it. It took a mop of familiar brown hair to calm you as you realise that not an intruder had overtaken your bed.

“Dang it! Jisung, you creep! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Noticing the tired haze in his eyes, you strolled over to him. You slid next to his torso as your hand reached for his chubby cheek, grazing his skin. It woke him up, your action met with a sigh and his head leaning comfortably against your palm.

Under the blanket, you noticed his shirt, which didn’t even begin to cover his bulging biceps. It took you a moment to recognise why it didn’t fit him like his other clothes usually did.

“Are you wearing my crop top again?” Amusement laced your tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You almost didn’t understand him, his vague mumbling blurrier than typical. He must have been asleep for a while.

“What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to hang out with Felix tonight.” You took out your earrings, neatly placing them on the small nightstand by your bed. “What happened to bonding with your roomie?”

“We hung out for four hours,” he explained with a yawn. “Then I came over because I missed you.”

Running your hand down the side of his face, he grabbed it as soon as he could reach it. He brought it to his lips to give your skin a quick peck.

“Now, come to bed, so we can sleep.”

“I need to get changed and brush my teeth first.”

“I can help you get out of your clothes. And I don’t care if your breath stinks.”

“I care.” You got off your bed to rush through your evening routine so you could fall into your love’s arms already. Yet, your intentions were rudely interrupted. “What the heck!”

Before you could take a step, Jisung’s arm snapped out from beneath your blanket, pulling you back. You couldn’t react fast enough as he dragged you into a lying position next to him, still fully clothed.

“See? I don’t care.”

“What about the light?”

Lifting his head off your pillow, he grabbed the tissue box from your nightstand and tossed it at the light switch. You didn’t know when he had suddenly learned to aim, but it hit smack-bang in the middle, shutting off all the light in your room.

“I gotta admit, that was impressive.”

“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

You giggled as he effortlessly opened the button and zipper of your pants and dragged them down your legs. He tossed them towards the end of the bed, to be dealt with tomorrow. Next was your top, which he swiftly brought over your head, throwing it to join the rest of your clothes.

“If you only cleaned as quick as you undress me.”

“Everybody has their own forté.” You snickered at his words, closing the gap between you. “I could also be way quicker than that. We haven’t had sex in a week. Right now, your clothes are my nemesis.”

The heat of his body caught you in a warm hug, “A week already, huh?”

“8 days and 7 hours, to be exact. But who’s counting?” His arm came around you, scooting you closer so your back pressed flat against his chest.

“You wanna reset that clock?”

“Nah,” he brushed your suggestion off. “I’m way too tired to have sex right now.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“About that.” His hot breath fanned over your neck. “I know it’s date night, but there’s this party I was invited to. I thought we could go to that instead.”

“A party?” It was the first week of university. How had your introverted boyfriend already been invited to a party? You should have probably seen the answer coming. “Whose?”

“I think you know.”

Of course, you knew. How could you not when his parties had been legendary even back in the day? Though, until now, you had suppressed his present at this campus all together. His being the one who shalln’t be named.

You thought about Jisung’s suggestion for a second.

Sure, a party would intervene with your bi-weekly date night. And, on top of that, it was organised by someone, you didn’t know how to approach after everything that had gone down. But this was university, after all. And, as Solar had said before: University is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So, why the heck shouldn’t you go to a party?

“So? What do you say?”

“Fine.” Jisung’s previously unbothered expression turned into a smile as he grazed his lips to your neck. “Just... Don’t tell your sister we’re going. I’m not sure she would appreciate us hanging out with her ex.”

“Lying to my sister? Who are you, and what did you do to my girlfriend?” A yawn hit your ear, your face scrunching at the unwanted ASMR session. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

As Jisung slipped into a deep slumber, your mind raced through the events of your day. It usually did at the end of the day, your mind too tired to do anything productive but too awake to rest. The silence around you allowed you to remember an earlier text message you never got to answer.

Pulling your arm out of your boyfriend’s iron hold on your body, you reached for your phone on the nightstand.

Your dad had sent you a voice message about three hours earlier when you had still been at the bar. You pushed the play button and brought the phone to your ear to not disturb Jisung’s beauty sleep. By all means, he needed it. Or so he said.

“Hi, honey. It’s dad. I hope you had a lovely day and aren’t studying too hard already.” You smiled at his words, knowing it was one of his biggest hopes for you to get some time to yourself. “Remember what I told you when you left? Live a little!” A pause as he was seemingly picking up something from the ground. “I just wanted to ask when you were coming home Friday. I’m planning brunch with you two and Jia, so if you could be here by noon, that’d be great.”

Friday was the day after tomorrow. You hadn’t forgotten you’d be going back home for the weekend, but you sure hoped the party tomorrow wouldn’t keep you up all night. If you had to be home by noon, you’d have to leave campus by ten. And after a party, like you expected this one to be, you prayed you and a certain someone wouldn’t be too hungover.

“Anyways, sleep tight, and have a lovely night. We miss you!”

A second voice appeared in the background, not too far from your father’s, and your heart skipped a happy beat. The words were harder to make out as he was munching on an apple, cereal, or something else crunchy.

Still, there wouldn’t come a day you wouldn’t understand his babbling.

“Come home soon, please! Mhpf—I miss you, mommy.”

With a loving smile plastered on your face, you replied with a heart emoji. After such a perfect goodnight-messaged, you’d be sleeping like a stone tonight.

Next Chapter >>> Let me know if you want to be tagged. Make sure you have an age indicator in your profile.

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[dogaquarium]

Hello Laika!!!

Rough patches are not fun, and I hope you feel at least a little better with the asks you receive and from your friends who love you so so much <:] 🫂 💕

For the ask!! I’ve been dying to know… how do you see Spamton? I’ve always been interested in how you viewed him in a sentimental or in just like a “I like him he’s silly” way, and I wanted to ask you! I am always so curious on how people see their comfort characters… like how does he make you feel?? Or how does he resonate so deeply with you??

And this doesn’t just have to be for Spamton!! It can be for any other characters or interests you have aswell! I would just love to hear really because its beautiful how people interpret media and helps me visualize the characters or the fandom better <:]

(Anyways!! I hope you feel better soon freind, and as always I LOVE YOU FREIND!!!!!! 🫶🫶💕💕💕🫂🫂🫂)

You are so kind as always star, cannot thank you enough in words. Thank you for always sending asks, especially ones that are so long when sometimes I don't get to them.... it means a lot to me. I wrote a lot so, under the read more. My thoughts are not very organized atm so I can likely give you a better answer to this later. Still, I hope I'm able to make some sense

That being said to answer your question um

Joking I promise that's not the only reason I like him (though it is one.. don't get me wrong). I'm not sure if there's one singular way for me to answer this in all honesty bc. Well! To put it simply, I don't think I've ever had a character I like as much as him. So I appreciate him in many regards!! Because he's silly, for more serious/sentimental reaons, bc I identify with him and his themes a lot, bc his mannerisms and contradictory intentions interest me, because he's Complicated, the list goes on. He's a fully fleshed out Guy to me. It's like asking why you like a friend so much yknow? I can't just pick one thing. I guess..... I like how multifaceted he is, is the best singular answer I can give you. People have a tendency to reduce him to a couple traits of his (e.g. making him just some goofy guy, guy who is only able to say "big shot", guy who exists just to be a salesman, going the opposite direction and making him strictly serious, etc). And people have a tendency to misinterpret him overall! I was talking to my boyfriend the other day and the spam oc phenomenon makes me all disgruntled bc at that point you have completely forgotten just how much canon has to offer you. Side tangent???? I've recently seen a lot of art depicting oc/aus of him being friends and it makes me crazy bc it is a wonder he hasn't killed himself already, do you really expect him to get along with another him???? Anyways tangent over. Also worth mentioning that aesthetically he's very pleasant to me. I've always had a very large interest in dolls and puppetry (<- they are objectum and never talk about it publicly bc its embarrassing) so that gives bonus points but the angel themes? Old web? Crafting and knick knacks? I love that shit. So i guess this whole ramble doesn't really have a point or maybe even a cohesive meaning (I'm trying to get better about thought dumping everything and not spending 10 minutes writing 5 sentences overhthinking it) but if you have any more questions or if I misunderstood this lmk? I would be happy to type more

As for other favorite characters of mine.. well since I mentioned them, flaky is a very very very rare case of becoming a comfort character for me purely bc I identify with them in all the wrong ways (they are a summation of all my bad trauts) and so I feel the urge to put them in a blender and subject them to tragedy constantly. Derpy is a comfort for me bc they're everything I want to be (and also I like mail carrier characters a lot it's a weakness of mine). Jowee is a comfort bc I like his struggles being taken seriously when it never is addressed that way in canon so it's interesting to explore. We would be here all day if I went through everyone! I hope this answered what you were so curious about since I just started typing and didn't stop haha

[mymarifae]

i hope this isn't a rude question, but what do you mean when you say that mizuki's narrative is transfeminine in nature? like i think ik what you mean i just wanna make sure I understand

i've been trying to figure out a way to answer this ask that isn't just "it means exactly what you think it means" but i don't. 😭 have one. like. there's no secret meaning to any of those words..?

you don't need to see mizuki say the words "i'm trans" to understand that she is transfem. everything in the game points to it. from her classmates talking about how she should just dress "normally" if she doesn't want people to treat her like she's weird (and this can't be misconstrued as people judging her for her fashion sense because "blahblah, japan's individuality problem, blahblah" [as i have seen people try to say] because this happens At School where everyone is wearing a uniform. she's being singled out for wearing a girl's uniform when she's "not supposed to") to her younger self's live 2d models showing us that she wore a boy's uniform in middle school. you can't even really call it "subtext" at this point - it's just. the text...

but without that sort of direct confirmation and because colorful palette is really leaning into playing this game of "WHAT'S THAT TEENAGER'S GENDER?!!?!?" to generate more revenue, it's Difficult to say whether the writers are actually treating mizuki as a trans girl (good) or if they're on the verge of pulling some "boy in girl clothes 🤪" horseshit (bad). i want to believe the writers have good intentions at heart because mizuki's story seems to be lovingly crafted but can you blame me for having trust issues lol. but even if they pull That Horseshit in the future, death of the author, you know? audience's final impressions >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> author's intent. That Horseshit is not what they wrote.

the story they wrote is one of a trans girl who just wants to exist without judgement. she knows who she wants to be and how she wants to look, but she's constantly ostracized for it. all she wants is acceptance and love and a place to belong. but she feels like she's never going to get that - because she makes friends, they learn that she's trans, and they leave. only Two people have stuck by her side after learning that she's trans (rui and an), and while she loves and appreciates them, they have their own circles of friends they belong in.

but finally, after so many years, mizuki has found her own little circle of friends. a group of people that she truly feels at home with. she's accepted. she's loved. she's having the time of her life with the rest of nightcord. but will all of that go away if they find out she's trans? she doesn't know, and that's really, really, really scary. and now she's struggling with the guilt of feeling like she's lying to kanade, ena, and mafuyu (she's not but guilt can't be reasoned with) and the fear of losing them if she tells them the "truth." (they already know the truth - that she's a girl. but again these kinds of emotions can't be reasoned with and project sekai is doing a nice job at portraying mizuki's internal dilemmas which again is why i want to be inclined towards the writers not being shitheads but aughhhhhhh😐)

that's the story that colorful palette is writing at the end of the day, regardless of whatever the fuck they may think they're doing. that's what makes mizuki's narrative a transfeminine one.

[revlyncox]

The Shepherd's Prayer 2023

Embracing the diversity of belief and the diversity of spiritual practice among Unitarian Universalists, we can still say that there is value in a deliberate and spiritually connective practice that reinforces positive intention. May we pray with courage. May we pray with love for the incarnate. May we pray with sincerity.

Today we’re talking about simplicity in spiritual practice, and how that simplicity can give us room for surprises, reversals, or respite. This time of year can be a wild ride, whether you are buffeted by the surprise deadlines and commitments that pop up between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day, or by the whims of the market, or by official actions that target vulnerable people, or the stress of being human, or just by being present to the transformational power of the season. One of the ways to cope with all of that uncertainty is through spiritual practice, including but not limited to prayer. In some ways, spiritual practice puts us in a vulnerable position, one where we might need to acknowledge that we don’t control the universe, or one where we admit that we need help, or one where we dare to hope. That takes courage. When I was a teenager, there was an elder in my community who modeled this courage.

Fear Not

I settled into the folding chair, straining my eyes under the fluorescent lights in the church social hall. The accordion walls and room dividers crossed paths to form four classrooms. My brothers were doing arts and crafts in the religious education building. I had “graduated” from the children’s program, so I “got” to choose an adult class for the new Learning Community Hour. I looked around at the adults, all at least twice my fifteen years.

A woman I will call Florence led the class. She had been a fixture in the congregation for as long as I could remember. She invited us to open by repeating the Lord’s Prayer together. I sat right next to her, so I heard her clearly as she started to pray.

I never realized until that moment that Florence used INFLECTION as she prayed. I had learned this prayer by rote. I had always heard the line break in the middle: “Thy will be done/ On earth as it is in heaven,” but she went right on through, “Thy will be done on earth.”

Florence said the prayer like she meant it, not like she was reading words off a page. She sounded like she really thought the name was hallowed.

I cocked my head to look at Florence. I had always thought she was a calm, respectable person. I had never known her to erupt into fits of religious fervor. Could it be that this pillar of my mainline, liberal, Protestant church was a fanatic?  My ears roared with fear of this small woman with a big prayer.

Luckily, I did not react out of my fear in that moment, but sat through my discomfort. And, in later years, I lived and learned about neighbors with all kinds of religious and spiritual traditions. I learned to appreciate it when someone shared a moment of prayer that gave comfort. I eventually tried it for myself. I learned to love the physicality of speaking words of prayer or meditation, and letting that sensation awaken my heart and soul. 

It seems like every once in awhile those of us who find value in organized religion find it necessary to remember the value of disorganized religious experience. We gather in religious communities in order to be held accountable, lest our spiritual practices become stale and meaningless. In this morning’s story, the scholar is reminded by the shepherd that the prayer of the heart is the true prayer. It brings comfort and hope to all who hear it. The prayer completed without care is a word without wings.

At this point, I want to stop and do some translating. This is a pluralistic community. We have a lot of ways of expressing our Unitarian Universalism. Some practices are contemplative, like chanting or meditation. Service is very important in our tradition, and I know many here concentrate on service as their prayer. As I think about the UU’s I know, I can count the practitioners of at least a dozen embodied traditions: Tai Chi, Yoga, Aikido, sacred dancing, labyrinth walking, and others. Some of us pray to god or goddesses or a divine force, others don’t find ideas like god or divinity useful. For today, let’s try defining prayer as a deliberate practice that reconnects us with the source of blessing as we understand it and that reinforces positive intention. Whether it’s community service or Yoga or talking to god or chanting or any other practice, prayer is a deliberate and spiritually connective practice that reinforces positive intention.

Another way I’d like to make room in this discussion is by saying that, in prayer, it is often a good idea to let go of outcomes. In prayer or meditation or other kinds of spiritual practice, we can express a hope, but even the most faithful do not get exactly what they pray for every time. It’s a spiritual practice, not a vending machine. Prayer, for me, is a way of opening up awareness, holding people and the planet in love, and reconnecting with the understanding that I am held by the Source of Love. Whether or not you believe that God or the Universe makes changes in response to requests made in prayer, spiritual practice changes us, and changing us can help us get ready to change the world in positive ways. Prayer helps me to notice and act on opportunities to be better, to do better, and to organize with other people doing the work of justice and compassion.

Connection with transcendent mystery and wonder comes to us in many ways. Sometimes we cultivate it by a regular spiritual practice. Sometimes that connection comes to us spontaneously, such as in nature or while listening to sacred music. The prayer of the heart seeks out and draws from the source of blessing as we understand it to be.

Love the Incarnate

Did you hear a change recently in the ambient music all around you? Advent doesn’t officially start until next week, but the last gates of restraint on winter holiday music opened up on Friday. We’re going to hear about Christmas whether we like it or not. So you might have been reminded recently of another story of shepherds who were out in the fields, “keeping watch over their flock by night.” 

In both the nativity story and with the folk from this morning’s wisdom tale, shepherds represent simplicity. They are people we can identify with: they have jobs, they don’t necessarily understand what’s going on most of the time, they feel vulnerable to the elements.

In the nativity story, the shepherds find transcendent wonder. They are both inspired and terrified by the angels. A sense of awe and wonder can spur us to action. In the cast of the shepherds, their course of action leads to a human baby in a trough usually used for animal feed. And this is the pinnacle of their religious experience.

This is what I mean by surprises and reversals. To be connected with a spiritual life is to be open to the possibility that we might be wrong, that we might have something left to learn, that the foundations of what we have assumed about the way the world works might be turned upside down. Those who are learned may be ignorant in some important ways. Those who are powerful may yet yield to a reconciliation with the people. The last shall be first. The physical world is not lower or less holy than the unseen world. 

The incarnate world, the embodied world of babies and domestic animals and shepherds and fields, is divine. The shepherd in the folk story notices the divinity of wool, a grassy field, a clear stream, and the starry night. Direct experience with the physical world inspires the shepherds in both stories. When I remember to connect with the physical world, I am inspired to give thanks for that sense of wonder.

The prayer of the heart is a grounded prayer. It fosters a love affair with the physical world, a sense of transcendence rooted in immanence. The prayer of the heart teaches us to love the incarnate.    

Pray like you Mean It

Flour and salt and water squish through our fingers, being transformed from pantry items into a craft project. My partner is telling me about the Sunday School curriculum she’s writing on prayer.

“There’s this idea in Judaism about kevah and kavanah. Kevah means the set text of a prayer, the words as they are written in the prayer book. But the words of the prayer, the mechanics, are only half of it. There’s also kavanah, the intention. You mean to do the practice, and you’re actively engaged in it. I’m going to have one bowl with crusty, dry salt dough. That dough has a lot of kevah. The salt and the flour represent structure. Another bowl with goopy, slimy salt dough has a lot of kavanah. The water represents a spiritual intention, lots of overflowing love. If you mix the two together, you get dough that’s not too dry and not too goopy.”

I had heard before of kevah and kavanah, and it hadn’t occurred to me that it was a useful concept for most people, including third-graders. But why not?  The balance between structure and spirit is a dynamic that affects a lot of us.

Spiritual teachers like my family and other loved ones remind me to notice where I am on that balance. I look back on times in my life when I didn’t want to conform to a method or open myself up to a faith community, I just wanted to have my groovy personal experience with whatever spiritual experiment that was bringing me comfort or fun. I could have used more kevah in those moments to help me stay grounded in responsibility. I can look back at service projects, martial arts classes, and rituals when I just wanted to get the technique right or rush through the motions, not allowing the experience to settle into my heart and soul. I could have used more kavanah in those moments.

Some days I need one more than another. In meditation, in gardening, in expressions of gratitude around the dinner table, sometimes my spiritual practices are more focused on structure and sometimes my practices are more infused with intention. There are days when my heart is too heavy to be fully present. On those days, I hang on to the structure. Keeping up my practice on uninspired days opens the way for those other times, when the intention of the prayer affects my outlook on life and allows me to appreciate the interdependent web.

If I have too many days in a row of all kevah and not enough kavanah, I start to get cranky. I forget about cooperating with the natural flow of things. My back droops with the weight of resentment. My body tenses as I cling to ideas and goals that have outlived their usefulness. My throat closes up, guarding against the eruption of laughter.

When that happens, I might reconnect with kavanah again by remembering Florence and her heartfelt prayer. I learned from her that praying from the heart shines like a multitude of angels. And just when I’m sore afraid, I remember: Have courage. Love the incarnate. Pray like you mean it.

I spoke earlier about all of the ways Unitarian Universalists pray. If you walk a labyrinth, walk like you mean it. Be mindful of your intention to walk in the ways of the UU tradition. If you chant, remember that your voice is joined with others in this congregation. If service is your prayer, remember that service is your prayer, and that you have a faith community that backs you up. Whatever your practice, pray like you mean it. Let your prayer be simple and true. Let the words and actions bring comfort and hope to all who witness them. So be it. Blessed be. Amen.

[lyferifaes]

hey there stranger.

i realise i am probably too late for the game, and you're probably inactive, but i pray this message reaches you in good health and best intention. i have been following your writings, and i wish to tell you how much i appreciate your work. i admire your writing style, it is ebbing with your passion and love for the anime, and every chapter shatters my soul and weakens my wrists. it takes great talent to dedicate so much research, time, and effort to write an post-canon fix it in such beautiful shape and form and i wish you knew how much your writing has inspired me.

i love dororo, in ways you can imagine. it saved my life, and it's undoubtedly the best anime i have ever watched, not only with it's heavy symbolism and top-tier storywriting, but also the characters and fights have been orchestrated so splendidly. i decided to write a fanfiction myself, but hesitated to press a single letter because i was afriad i might ruin in a perfectly good show. it's already perfect as it is, i would think. and in all my time i haven't seen someone articulate and describe each characters' stories, agony, anguish, and depth as much as you do. not to mention your art work in beyond astonishing. believe me when i dropped my jaw seeing your work. i want to learn a lot from you.

remember when munetsuna wished that he was to craft a katana so powerful that it would stop wars? that people would be so astonished by the sword, then would surrender? you are that sword. you have such great potential in you, and pardon my poor phrasing, as i am a novice writer and a mere admirer, i wish to learn a lot from you. im not exaggerating at all when i say that your works bring me to my knees. i am in love. truly. i apologize in advance, but i cried after i read the first chapter. it moved me that much.

if you were to write a book, please let me be one of the first few readers. i will support you with everything i got. i don't say this to pressure you, i simply wish you know how grateful i am to have found your work.

there are no questions.

thank you so much. thank you.

Wow. I'm speechless. You know, this is probably one of the best and warmest feelings in the world—no, not to receive a compliment, and not to feel proud and pleased with myself (vanity never does you any good and I try not to get carried away), but to meet a soul resonating with mine—at least in one way, at this moment—to be able to feel so deeply everything I've put into this story and enjoy it. A perfectionist that I am, I always wanted to create something that everybody would like, until I realized that popularity is nothing, just numbers. But to reach even one person's heart is what truly matters to me. Meeting that person is like meeting a friend, such crossing of the paths is always a miracle of sorts. So let me give you at least a virtual hug! 🤗

I'm sorry for the late reply, I don't check my tumblr often lately as you can see, not because I've moved on or lost interest though. I hope I never really move on from Dororo, at least not until this fic is finished. And even then Dororo will remain a huge part of me. But yeah, I switch a lot between things (not fandoms though—enough is enough 😅), various things I write. I really hope to finish at least one of them and publish a book one day, and if it happens, I'll gladly send you one of the first copies! Haha although it may not happen before we all turn very old, I'm afraid, since as you can see I am a veeery sloooow writer. Also, it will be in my native language 😅 (writing in English was an experiment at first, a challenge to myself, and I admit there will be times when I regret putting myself through this lol)

May I ask you something, too? Please, don't hesitate to press letters, write! Just start and let your worlds take shape, let them be born. I was inspired a lot by the authors I admired, many of them are ficwriters, I've taken a lot from them. I'm happy if it's now my turn to pass some of that inspiration further. Really, really happy. 💖

[loosesodamarble]

Papa's Favorite Shadow

Summary: Morgen is happy to know that despite their different attributes, he and his daughter Sable get along just fine. Genre: general, fluff Word count: ~650

..........

Morgen scanned the table and the supplies that had been laid out on the surface. Wire, beads of various colors, jewelry fastenings, tweezers, and pliers were neatly organized in sections on the table.

Morgen sat next to Sable, his eldest daughter, who had her brown hair pulled back in a voluminous ponytail. She gazed at the materials with eagerness and joy.

“So, Sable dearest, how many friends are you making these for?”

“All of them~!” was Sable’s chipper answer.

“Oh? And how many would that be?”

Morgen silently watched as Sable counted her fingers and muttered various names to herself. There were a few he recognized, such as the youngest daughter of House Vermillion and the triplet sons of House Silva. Others were completely new to him. And the number of names just kept rising as Sable counted.

All those children would be receiving a handmade friendship bracelet, if Sable’s plans panned out that is. And that’s where Morgen came in. With Josele away on a long-term mission, Morgen was the only one available to act as Sable’s helper in her task.

“Um… I think forty?” Sable concluded after her count.

“Goodness gracious! I don’t think I’ve had forty friends in my whole life! Where do you find them all?”

“Everywhere!” Sable exclaimed. Her smile was as bright as the sun.

Morgen loved that about Sable. He loved everything about his daughter. Despite her Shadow Magic, she was optimistic, friendly, and had only sweet intentions. She reminded Morgen of himself in his youth. Though he wasn’t as energetic as her, Morgen and Sable shared a love of life. That was enough to bring father and daughter together.

“Let’s hop to it,” Sable said and reached for a spool of beading wire.

“Yes, let’s begin.”

And so Sable and Morgen settled in for a long day of crafting bracelets for the many children Sable had made part of her life.

Morgen measured out the wire, testing lengths with Sable’s wrist to make sure they wouldn’t be too large or small. With the wires cut, he applied fasteners to one end of each piece. He didn’t quite have a hand for the delicate work of beading but Sable leaned over and said “it looks good enough. Keep going, Papa” to encourage him.

Another reason to love Sable. She was content like Josele was, never asking for more than what someone was or could offer.

“I really hope everyone likes them!” Sable giggled while beading with her bare hands.

“As do I. Your friends will surely—” Morgen paused to concentrate on keeping a bead pinched between tweezers and stringing it on a wire. “They’ll surely appreciate your kindness.”

Sable rocked her body from side-to-side and hummed a tune she had learned from Morgen. While hidden, her legs were surely kicking under the table too. Sable’s happiness was just too much to keep within her little body so it came out in these little gestures.

They worked for a while in silence. After a few bracelets were completed, Morgen turned to Sable.

“Say, where did this idea come from?” Morgen asked as he finished beading a bracelet. He picked up a fastener to affix to the wire’s end. “Making the bracelets that is.”

“Well I’ve been feeling really happy about my friends,” Sable started to explain. “I wanted to show them how much I like them. I first thought of writing ‘thank you’ letters. But then I realized I’m not good at writing.”

“No shame in acknowledging such a thing,” Morgen assured before giving Sable a kiss on her crown. “So then what?”

“Obviously, I decided to make something instead!” Sable raised up an incomplete bracelet to the light, making it sparkle. “Plus, people don’t carry around letters everyday but people can wear bracelets everyday!”

“That’s very true!”

“Now let’s hurry and finish them! For a Light Mage, Papa sure is slow!”

“Wha—? Sable, you wound me!”

Still, Morgen let out a chuckle and Sable laughed.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

I'd like to get a ship from Percy Jackson and Narnia. My pronouns are she/her, and I'm bisexual (with a huge preference for women) I'm around 5'5, overweight, I have pale skin, brown hair and blue/green eyes. I'm a ISFP, Gryffindor, an Poseidon's daughter and Apollo's legacy. I'm introvert but I actually like people a lot, it's hard for me to make friends but once I met the right people I'm fun to be around, and I'm a good friend. I like spending time with my friends and family but I also like spending some time alone. I'm fun and a nice person, maybe a bit intense, I'm open minded, and I care a lot about other's people opinion about me. I'm smart but I like to play dumb once in a while, and I'm also quite childish, but at the same time I'm responsible in the moments I have to. Likes: Rom-Coms, pop and rock music, musicals, greek mythology, Harry Potter, I like car rides, the color blue, sunset and sunrises, football (soccer). Dislikes: Irresponsible teammates, people giving me dirty looks for no reason, being ignored. Social injustices, people closed minded, people that think they can get what they want just because they have money or whatever. Hobbies: Planning activities for kids, playing the guitar, playing football (soccer), composing music and watching movies or series. Sign: Scorpio Rising sign: Capricorn Moon: Virgo

Thank you so much, I hope you have a great day.

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took a while. I hope you like your matchups!

In Percy Jackson, I match you with...

Annabeth is so glad you like Greek mythology. Sure, everyone in camp has to have some interest in the myths they deal with on a daily basis. But having someone who’s genuinely interested in it? That’s a nice change.

She’d love talking to you about mythology and hearing your opinions on different variations on the stories. She’s also quite open minded so she likes considering all viewpoints.

She enjoys listening to you play guitar. Annabeth appreciates music from a very technical perspective but when she listens to you play, she’s able to relax her mind and just listen.

One of the most responsible people in the entirety of Camp Half-Blood. She’s very motivated and dedicated to her projects and those she cares about.

She may get busy sometimes and ignore you but please know that it’s never intentional. She loves your company, she just gets overwhelmed by work sometimes.

In Narnia, I match you with...

Two smart boss women in one matchup? You certainly are lucky!

Much like Annabeth, Susan is a very responsible person. As a result, she sometimes gets overwhelmed by her workload.

Please spend time with her when she’s especially busy. She enjoys being in your presence, even if you’re unable to do the same thing or talk too much.

Susan would love watching the sunrise and sunset with you. It’s some of the one time she has free in her busy routine so she likes being able to spend time with you at least twice a day.

I see Susan as someone who likes musicals since they’re (most of the time) well crafted and take a lot of planning and skill. That’s something she can appreciate.

[oigimi]

. birthday present .

. arthur x murasaki (oc) . 1.3k words . idrk what this is other than a small drabble to get writing on murasaki and do an arthur bday thing .

Murasaki, coming not only from an entirely foreign culture to that of France, was also nearly a millennium removed from the time she had been brought up in. Every day in 19th century Paris was a new adventure for her, full of new things to learn about that she had not even considered before, and one of those things was birthdays. The way people in the future went about birthdays was worlds away from how she had come to celebrate. So when a fellow vampiric author approached her about a potential birthday celebration, she was a little taken aback.

“Tomorrow? You have a birthday tomorrow?”

Arthur nodded and crossed his arms. “That’s right. Care to join me on a little excursion today, perhaps, in celebration? My schedule is clear and I imagine yours is too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Murasaki asked, leaning back in her chair. She did, in fact, have a clear schedule for the time being, but she still had to stand her ground.

“Nothing, nothing! I’ve just noticed you woke up later than usual today, and your makeup is freshly done. So you must have more free time than usual, at least right now.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. Damn Arthur. Nothing gets past him. Her attempt to chastise him had failed yet again, so she stretched her arms up and looked around her room. “Well I suppose I can make some time for you. What do you plan on doing today, follower of my path?”

“Well I was hoping to pick up a new jacket for myself and grab a bite. Although I think time with you will be enough of a gift for me~” Arthur hummed, leaning against the wall and making eye contact with Murasaki. She maintained this locked gaze with him for a while before breaking another smile.

“Okay. Let me put my shoes on and we’ll see what happens.”

As Arthur left to go put on his jacket, Murasaki pondered the day ahead. She hadn’t spent a generous amount of time with Arthur alone, even attempting to appear icy towards him in the beginning. At first, he seemed very much like the men she served in court with- arrogant, drunk, loud, and unabashed in their intentions on flirting with ladies-in-waiting such as herself. But Arthur was more than that, she’d come to learn. Murasaki took it upon herself to read some of his novels privately, and although she loved to remind Arthur (and Dazai, as well) that he worked in the craft she had pioneered around 900 years ago with her Tale of Genji, she had to give credit where credit was due. Arthur was very quick-witted, and she loved the stories he contributed to the world, however different from the monogatari genre she had worked in herself. Murasaki also couldn’t help but appreciate the idea of Sherlock Holmes only having been bested a few times- once by a woman. And so she decided to indulge him in this venture, and accompany him on a pre-birthday trip, even if to satiate her own curiosity on a birthday celebration and spend a day with a fellow author.

Once both parties were fully dressed and put together, Arthur led the two of them outside and into a coach that dropped them off in front of a rather expensive-looking boutique. Murasaki looked the establishment up and down, noting the array of colorful, patterned dresses in the window. She cracked a grin upon seeing a lavender gown with ornate gold and silver flakes across it. “I like this place. Is this where your jacket is?”

“Mhm. I had it custom ordered. The bird here is quite nimble with her fingers, you know. She makes the highest quality items around.”

“Does she make womenswear too?”

“Of course! She crafted that dress you had your eyes on.”

“How fancy.” Murasaki followed Arthur inside, and was instantly removed from him by the flock of women that rushed to his side. They fawned over him, gushing about how excited they were to see him, what was he doing at the boutique, typical lovestruck dialogue women would come up with in the day. Murasaki chuckled a bit. He seemed to have his hands full, trying to answer every woman at once. Deciding not to let him flounder alone, she made her way back to her colleague’s side. “We’re here to pick up a jacket. We’re on a time crunch.”

“And who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”

Now it was Arthur’s time to speak. “This is my lady friend Murasaki. She writes too. I’m taking her on a little day out.”

The disappointed looks of the women made Murasaki look up at Arthur. She didn’t want to be seen as one of his partners, but he seemed to know what he was saying so she just smiled and looked back at the crowd.

Valerie, the owner, stepped out from her office and handed Arthur his jacket. Murasaki reached out to feel it. It was very nicely crafted, with fine wool outside and a comfortable lining inside. Silver buttons shined against it, matching the details on the hem. He slipped his current outerwear off and replaced it with the new jacket.

“It looks nice on you. You look quite regal,” Murasaki hummed, grinning up at Arthur.

“Why thank you, dove. I’ll say a compliment from you is quite rare! Are you finally starting to fancy me?”

“No! You just look nice in the coat! No shame, even on your birthday.”

They paid for the jacket and hit the streets once more, taking in the warm but relaxing May air on their faces.

“I daresay we should eat outside today. It isn’t too hot or too cold, not windy, not cloudy. Plus, we can observe the people around us,” Arthur suggested, leading Murasaki to a small cafe on the corner of a street. In agreement, she requested outdoor seating, and settled across from him with a smile on her face after ordering their food.

“I love watching the people of Paris,” she mused, looking around her. “I can’t even fathom the kinds of lives they live. It’s so far beyond me, but everybody has their own dreams, interests, experiences, and stories to tell. I think that’s something I’m very grateful for in this second life of mine.”

Arthur nodded solemnly. “And it’s my job as a mystery author to be able to figure out those stories before they can even tell them. I quite enjoy people watching too. It’s fun guessing the lives they live just from a few glances.”

“Indeed.” Murasaki received the drinks and sipped her tea. “So why did you ask me to accompany you today? I don’t think I’m always your best friend.”

“Well I wasn’t going to ask Dazai or Newt. And everyone else was busy, including Theo.”

“So I’m a last resort invite.”

“Not exactly!” Arthur laughed. “You always twist my words, dove. Truthfully I’ve wanted some time with you for a while. Comte is always trying to be the one to spoil you, and being the only woman in the mansion you’ve certainly earned everyone’s interest, including mine. So perhaps I could take you with me for a little pre-birthday treat. And that I did.”

Murasaki nodded slowly and sipped her tea. “I see… Well then I have another question for you. Do you have anything planned for your true birthday tomorrow?”

“I’d imagine we’re just going to have a small party at the mansion. And then I’ll go out to the pub.”

“Alright. Well then I’m giving you your gift from me now, so no one else can see.”

She stood up and walked over to Arthur, cupping his face in her hands and giving him a kiss on the cheek, making sure to leave a full mark from her dark red lipstick where she landed.

[crechi]

i stare at the illustration, panicking for half a second. stress wells up in my throat, but i run my hand through my hair and sigh. i'm not the one bleeding out. i have no time to stagnate in my own inconsequential sympathy.

i crouch down, then turn the paper around to show you. ｢you've died.. either for information or satire.｣

i watch as you quickly process the grief of realizing your days were probably spent delivering letters of similar importance, tears beginning to slide down your face.

｢oh.. th-thank you.. sir.｣ you croak, dejected.

i sigh, then click my tongue to regain your attention. i smile softly; as best as i can manage watching a sad, defeated child die. ｢is a noble task.. delivering letters like this, to help someone learn.｣ you look up at me, listening intently. ｢you've probably delivered hundred of letters, right?｣ you nod.

｢then you've likely helped many people.. you've spread knowledge and made it possible for others to study, so that they may perfect their crafts. is a very honorable assignment..｣

you stare at me, your expression flooded with hope tinged with desperation. ｢really..?｣

i shrug, attempting to steal my nerves over the devostating scene. ｢in my eyes, certainly.｣

you think for a moment, looking down at the grass. you smile. ｢thank you.. a-again, mis-ster.｣

i nod, my face expressionless as my emotions whirl inside me. ｢of course, lad.｣ i don't appreciate my own voice's steadiness compared to your frail, stuttering one; the strength in it had never felt undeserved until now.

i reach out to your arm, hovering my hand over it. ｢may i touch you?｣ i ask. once you give me the okay, i carefully pick you up and hold you on my lap. i let you rest on my chest, hoping my hug to be comforting despite me being a stranger.

you don't reply, likely not having the strength to anymore, but i can feel as your once prominent tremors fizzle out, and you relax.

while your blood soaks into my shirt, i seethe. you spent your entire life wishing to be useful, to be told that you were worth it, and it's only at the end, by the word of a stranger and under happenstance, that you are given it.

your superiors didn't care about you. physically and emotionally, they left you to suffer.

you shift, weakly raising your head, and distracting me from my thoughts. your body, entirely limp as you're moments away from erasure. you can't manage a smile, unable to focus enough to move your face, you weakly whisper your third ｢thank you｣. i hold back the despair coursing through my body, and nod. ｢you're welcome, dear.｣

your nerves go dim and silent, and the blood in your veins stills. i sit there in the grass, crying in grief for a child whose name i don't know; and for all the children left to suffer, whose names i'll never know.

the people who did this to you will suffer, ten times the amount that you have. they will know the hopelessness and existential insignificance that i tried to save you from.

𝀺''𐤙 ⦂ ▍▊⃢" wasn't mentally stable at the time of writing this [moreso than.normal]. it's not.too obvious, is it?

If i was a sickly little peasant boy designated by the aristocracy to carry messages back and forth for pennies and you found me against our citys outer wall with a deep wound in my chest from a musket ball and a letter cluthed in my hand and i told you that my dying wish was to have someone read that letter to me so i would know i died for something important and you open it up and you find a single large illustrated diagram of an onion would you tell me what it was? What would you say?

[fortworthswingersclubs]

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Dallas Escorts 40

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As you’re looking into the ads, seek out profiles with well-taken photographs and clean descriptions of the escort’s offerings of their time. Most are hallmarks of specialist escorts and are the kind worth contacting.

Since this is a unregulated industry, any person who’s 18+ yrs or older can establish an ad concerning escorting sites. Therefore you must be aware of typical warning signs of escorts you might want to avoid.

Styles containing fuzzy images with outdated frizzy hair and clothing varieties could indicate escorts who aren’t effectively depicting their present-day appearance. Poorly-written styles with vague types may also be a sign associated with escorts who aren’t taking this soft and artful practise seriously.

With that said, still know that there might be completely new escorts on the scenario who are well-qualified inside their abilities but possess yet to refine the craft from self-advertisement. Feel liberal to give anyone a good holler that gets your eye. Whenever they check out in your guide, then proceed along with booking some time. Next step - Communicate Certainly and Promptly

Previous to contacting your companion, have a concrete amount of time in mind for your wedding date. And if your routine is tentative, allow the escort know right from the start, or wait to make contact with them until ones own availability has firmed up.

Here’s an ideal example of a meaning to send so that you can escorts to kick-off conversations:

“Hi generally there. I found you upon Mintboys and planned to see if you ended up being free (date in addition to time) to get with each other. Let me know a availability, and get returning to me at your initially convenience. Thanks a great deal of. ”

After the take responds, I recommend buying them on the mobile phone or doing a fast FaceTime or Snapchat video to confirm that accuracy of their via the internet photos. The move will also appreciate visiting you and being familiar with who to expect the moment going on the night out. Use whatever conversation style you prefer. And when you ever have to drop out of the communication, let the escort find out. Respect their moment, and expect they can respect yours.

Above all, be sure to state a person's intentions and targets of the time you’d prefer to spend with escorts upfront. But become a gentleman about it. Consider, this is a date, as well as the time spent by using escorts is consensual. It takes two to be able to tango, and figuring out how to dance can be all part of the interesting. Step Four - Get ready to Be Accepted

Regardless if you’re a chaotic executive with no time frame for dating, as well as a curious connection-seeker visiting new forms of closeness, you must prepare yourself to become accepted by the carry you hire. It’s our job to simply accept you as you are, along with it’s one you take great delight in doing. Audio too good to get true? Think back in when you’ve made it easier for others feel approved for who these are, and reflect on this joy it taken you. That pleasure for us escorts will be the same.

Here’s an essential question clients at times ask me, “Aren’t you just doing this simply because I’m paying anyone? ”

And to of which, I answer all of them, “Do doctors must be physically attracted to or even emotionally involved with ones own patients to plan to heal their bodies? Can we question your authenticity of their attention because we pay back them for their skills? So then, the reason why question the authenticity of an escort’s care and attention simply because it also comes in the form of heart-felt companionship? ”

The full point of getting an escort is usually to get into the moment and luxuriate in your time with them for the fullest. Don’t attack it. Ease engrossed.

Furthermore, I compel you to consider the pursuing: people are at your peak attractiveness should they exhibit due admiration for the person they’re with. The same is rue spending time with an companion. Put this method towards practice, and you will include the best experience potential with your escort. Factor Five - Have fun

It’s time for the date! Whether that is your first or simply fiftieth hiring, maybe you have butterflies in your abs. And that’s all-natural. Honestly, the take is probably feeling a little bit of nervous as well. Anyone has some cultural anxiety, and that’s OK.

Here are some guidelines to keep in mind while you’re spending time with your move: be yourself, loosen up, have fun, and check-in now and then. Letting a escort know that their particular comfort is important back to you will mitigate needless stress so that anyone can have a good knowledge.

[winchester-reload]

You are one of my all-time favorite artists. I look up to your artworks so much! I also look up to the way you handle conversations with people and to your kindness within the fandom.

I have a question that does not have a clear answer probably, but I still want to try to ask it. It has been my dream since a long time to work as a freelance artist, even though I know it can be stressful and it can sound a little idealistic, but I love to make something that moves other people and touches them on an emotional level. But I don't know how to tell people, well, that I exist and that I sell commissions / prints / other things. Especially now with Twitter going downhill so fast. I have the feeling a lot goes via Twitter and that people on there are usually more likely to support you than for example on Tumblr or Instagram, and when the platform gets deleted I would loose a lot of people I kind of learned to know a little on there. Also in general - I don't even know if there is really a need for my art. I hope asking you doesn't feel like I have any ill intentions because I surely have not, I just wanted to ask if you maybe have any advice to becoming a freelancer? I am trying to not get stuck on that idea too much because art should be first and foremost fun, but it still has been a dream of mine. Most of the time I don't even feel worthy enough to ask for support with what I do so where would I start?

If this question is a too heavy one I completely understand. In any way I wish you a super nice day and much love for you and your art! You have the talent of making me fall in love with Destiel over and over again in dozens of different scenarios.

Hello, my dear anon,

First, I want to apologize for the time it’s taken me to answer this ask. I had to sit on it for a while and give it a proper think before I answered, and my brainpower is very limited these days. Maybe it always was… 😆 but I wanted to try to get it out before the end of the night, in the spirit of 2023 and new beginnings. 

Though I do think it’s important to acknowledge the idea of having fun doing something you love, it’s a little idealistic to approach a career with that as your cornerstone. Because the truth is, freelancing often isn’t fun. Learning any craft can sometimes be a slog, but turning it into your job will inherently bring in aspects of work you don’t find fun or don’t willingly love doing. But this is where the passion you mentioned comes in. 

Passion is the magic fairy dust that helps you push through the rest of it: the bad art days, the good art days. Cold wars with the local Post Office and hot mental wars with yourself. Your own self-esteem. Your self-worth. Your own lack or abundance of determination — it all waxes and wanes. Success in anything—but especially success in a self-dependant business like art freelancing is completely contingent on your ability to push through those things and hold onto your passion. Note: passion is different from inspiration. I don’t create art EVERY TIME because I feel inspired to create. I create art EVERY TIME because I feel passionate about creating—some of the time, I’m even feeling inspired. However, the things you make when you’re not “inspired” can end up being some of the most foundational pieces in your portfolio. Self-discipline builds muscles you didn’t know you needed.

And with that foundation comes the need for community support.

Building a community that appreciates the art you have to offer is totally doable; it just takes time, patience, and perseverance. You don’t necessarily have to use Twitter, if it does go belly-up, but I understand it sounds like the platform you’re most comfortable using. Personally, I started on Tumblr, and I found the majority of my support through this platform before eventually artist-spreading my way over to Instagram. I should note that this was during the Tumblr heyday, however. Before they purged adult content and banned female-presenting nips from the world. These two places are still the main social media’s I post to and interact with. It takes a shovel, a bucket of chocolate, and someone with a loaded handgun to get me to log into Twitter, but I will every once in a while. Today other platforms may prove more beneficial for you than Twitter has been. I believe, currently, Tiktok is listed as the number #1 social media for self-promotion and audience building for creators, strictly because of their solid algorithm it employs. I only recently made a Tiktok myself because I’m on the cutting edge of social media like that… (sarc), but Youtube is also a fantastic place to go if you’re not afraid of posting your face everywhere. 

I tend to shy away from TikTok and youtube because I don’t think the world needs to see my face everywhere, but the cold hard truth is it’s something we have to embrace to really experience the benefits of those platforms. 

In short: don’t be afraid to expand beyond Twitter. 

Now, to address your comment about the need for your art: 

The thing is, it’s not up to you to decide whether or not other people “need your art.” Do you need your art? If the answer is yes, and it should be, then make it. The other people who need your art will find it. I know that sounds all flowery and optimistic, but it’s the truth. Don’t waste your time trying to answer that question for them; you can’t. All you can do is make the art. Let it speak for itself. Your audience will find it. They’ll talk about it to their friends, colleagues, neighbors… etc., and your platform will grow. 

Of course, be sure you’re consistent in posting and the quality of your work. Use tags, so your posts come up in searches, network with other creators, challenge yourself with projects outside your comfort zone to expand audience possibilities, participate in art/fic challenges if this is fan-art related (or even if it’s not), and don’t be afraid to reblog/repost your own work. 

If all that sounds doable for you, then freelancing might be the career for you. 

That was terribly rambly, but I do hope it helps a little. I’m rooting for you, my friend. I think this world needs all the art.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A matchup for @petitelepus! Thank you very much for commissioning me~ I hope you enjoy reading!

Your heart’s desire is…

… Trey Clover!

People always talk about love at first sight, but for you, it was love at first taste. You had swung by the school bake sale, intent on nothing more than picking up a snack on your way to class. A tall boy in glasses had welcomed you with a sweet smile and even sweeter desserts. Cutely crafted cupcakes, clouds of fluffy whipped cream, and sprinkles in all colors of the rainbow. You had taken that first bite, and tasted not only the sponge and the buttercream, but your first crush: Trey Clover. “Hey, you’re staring at me,” he had joked, his eyes locked with yours. “Is there icing on my face?” There honestly wasn’t–but the two of you felt drawn to each other all the same, both in the classroom and out of it. He rolls with your childishness with such ease, though he often finds himself also having to keep a wary eye in you. Too nice for your own good, he’d describe you. Over time, you had come to learn that Trey himself was kind and a people-pleaser—a kindred spirit. Neither of you are really quite sure how the relationship descended into romance; everything seemed to fall into place and transition into it so smoothly. It wasn’t as though one of you had explicitly approached the other with that intent, it was more like everyone around you already assumed that you were just from how often you’d be seen together, just basking in one another’s company.

Trey’s patience is a virtue. He’s not one to lose his temper, and he usually just goes along with whatever it is you’re doing. Some (aka Ace) would call it enabling and spoiling, but you call it unconditional love and support! No matter what you want to do—swimming, sleeping, writing, gaming, indulging in your favorite anime and manga, whatever—he’s there to cheer for you. Trey’s also always got something sweet up his sleeve, whether it’s a corny dad joke or pun (he has a lot of them, and none of them are very good) or a literal dessert—decadent slices of chocolate cake, light-as-air meringues, toasty oatmeal cookies, and the occasional bite of salted licorice if he’s coming back from a grocery run. He learns all about your tastes over time, and takes care to adjust his recipes according to those tastes. If there’s something that Trey struggles with, it’s coming off the right way. His compliments don’t exactly land most of the time (Seriously, who unironically compares your eyes to cucumber skin and thinks that analogy is cute? Only him.) but he says them with such sincerity that you know he means it with all his heart. He’s basically half boyfriend and half embarrassing dad energy.

Your dates are nothing extravagant—they’re often just cozy little get togethers at your place or his, usually involving sharing food and drink. If you go out, Trey has a tendency to speak up for you (very “excuse me, she asked for no pickles” of him), as he knows you can get socially anxious and have a hard time talking to others yourself. The first thing you’ll do when you go over to each other’s places is wash hands. It took him some getting used to, but Trey would come to appreciate the preemptive hand washing, especially for those times when you’re cooking together. Likewise, it took you some time to get accustomed to Trey’s obsession with dental care, but, like him, you soon came to appreciate his reminders—they’re part of how he shows he cares. “Clean hands and clean teeth means a clean mind,” he’ll sometimes say. You don’t really make plans for dates; it’s more about enjoying the other’s presence and company rather than doing something specific. You could order takeout to slurp up while watching an animated children’s movie only to end up crying into your meal (you’re sensitive, and it’s way too cute for you not to), and Trey will happily let sob cry into his sleeve. When he’s had a hard day of his own, he’s fine with just sitting around and talking about his day (Ace got collared for the umpteenth time, and Trey had to smooth things over with Riddle for him) as you knead his stiff shoulders or offer to do the snack run today. You’re both pretty good at reading the other’s emotions and preparing to comfort the other with their favorite things when the chips are down.

Travel’s not really something Trey’s been too keen on; like a clover, he likes to plant his roots in one place and stick to what he is used to. However, he has a hard time saying no to your pleas to visit new places. He’s tasked with keeping your itinerary and packing (double checking to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything, especially that cute toothbrush he bought for you for last year’s anniversary). Trey makes sure to bake some snacks in advance to save on spending on the road. Perhaps the most memorable trip you’ve taken is all the way to the Rose Queendom to visit the Clovers. You still recall how Trey’s siblings swarmed you, bouncing up and down and clinging to your clothes, demanding to know how terribly sappy their eldest brother is (while his parents tried to shuffle them away). It was an oddly… endearing experience. Trey already treats you like his family, so it’s nice that they’ve also welcomed you with open arms (and lots of goodies to stuff into your luggage case home as souvenirs of Trey’s hometown).

Trey’s not really the type to cuddle or get touchy-feely; he respects your space and lets you have it. At most, he’ll maybe ruffle your hair or press a spare piece of chocolate to your lips to indulge you. If you need a shoulder to lean on or a face to rub against, Trey will accept it with an awkward chuckle. He’s not inquisitive or deeply questioning. He’ll of course intervene with just what you need to hear if he senses that you’re spiraling down a dark path (he knows all about your tendencies to worry and self-blame), but he won’t prod or press you to speak if you aren’t ready for it yet. Trey trusts you to know when you’re okay to talk with him (not to him, with him) about it. And you trust him too, don’t you?

Trey’s no poet, but he likens you to a bunny—how you nibble away at your treats, and how you shrink away from loud things and scary situations. Even your hair kind of makes you look like a rabbit, a tawny color flopping down your shoulders. “I’ll take real good care of you,” Trey promises, once again ruffling your hair—the ‘fur’—of his one and only favorite bunny.

[havenoffandoms]

72 for Geralt/Jaskier?

I meant to post this a lot earlier... sorry about the wait, nonnie. I hope you like it anyway. I'm not sure how it came out in the end after I agonised over this for the past couple of days, but it was fun going back to my Geraskier roots.

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Prompt 72: Character A has a secret. Character B does whatever they can to find out what it is. When they find out, they wish they hadn't.

Warnings: brief angsty episode, mention of Geralt's traumatic childhood

Also, I love that art! Holy Shit!? So of course this had to feature before the fic <3

Travelling with Jaskier had its downfalls.

For one, the bard talks a lot. He never stops, not even in his sleep, and that would drive any man insane if you ask Geralt. He listens to Jaskier waffling about poetry all day, every day, he doesn’t have to endure a lecture on the benefits of iambic pentameters when he’s trying to fall asleep, thank you very much. Jaskier also likes to complain about every little thing that causes him discomfort, which when they’re on the path, ranges from fly bites all the way to sore feet. Travelling with a human also means that they travel considerably slower, unless they’re both riding on top of Roach, but Geralt doesn’t like putting his best girl under that kind of strain very often.

For all of Jaskier’s flaws, Geralt would hate to have to separate from his bard. At least, when Jaskier is close by, Geralt can keep an eye on him and make sure Jaskier doesn’t get himself into any unnecessary trouble. Having Jaskier travel with him gives Geralt peace of mind. He appreciates the singing as well, even if he could stand to tell Jaskier this a bit more often. Geralt deems that his bard’s ego is plenty inflated without Geralt making it worse. Not to mention that life always seems a little bit brighter when Jaskier is around, and the nights are a little less lonely as Geralt gets to pull his bard close and fall asleep to the sound of his beating heart. Knowing that Jaskier is safe is the only thing that lets Geralt sleep peacefully at night.

You’d think that after nearly two decades of knowing his bard, Geralt would have figured out Jaskier’s secret by now. Geralt is, of course, referring to Jaskier’s near supernatural ability to always come up with coin when he and Geralt need it most urgently. Geralt has no idea how the bard does it - his songs are popular, granted, and on a good night Jaskier makes enough to buy a nice room for the night and the better pieces of meat from the kitchen. Still, being a bard doesn’t pay that well, not even if you were as famous as Jaskier. Just last week, Geralt’s horse and most of his belonging were stolen by bandits, leaving Geralt travelling on foot and too poor to afford to buy a new horse. Two days later, Jaskier came trotting up to their camp atop a gorgeous mare, looking mighty pleased with himself but refusing to tell Geralt how he managed to afford to pay for the horse.

“Would you believe me if I told you I stole her, Geralt, my dear?”

“Not in a million years,” Geralt admitted deadpan, pulling an offended squawk from his songbird.

“Just because I’m a bard you don’t think I can steal a horse?”

“I don’t think you could ever steal a horse because you’re as stealthy as the proverbial bull in the porcelain shop.”

It’s not just the horse, though. Geralt’s armour needed replacing and good armour doesn’’t come cheaply. Geralt doesn’t hire the services of just any blacksmith or armourer to craft his weapons and protective gear. He has his regular suppliers, the ones he always goes back to because he knows that their work is reliable and of the highest quality. And even though these people know Geralt by now, even offer him a friends and family discount on occasion, their wares still come at a hefty price. Geralt, as it turns out, didn’t have the coin to replace his armour for a few months. He desperately needed new boots, though. A new pair of breeches wouldn’t hurt either, and his silver sword broke in half whilst fighting a particularly vicious griffin a few weeks back.

Geralt didn’t even mention all of this to Jaskier. That didn’t stop the bard from going ahead and commissioning a brand new suit of armour, new silver and steel swords, as well as a few casual clothes for Geralt to wear on the warmer summer days. All of this must have cost an arm, a leg and a fucking lung, and yet Jaskier acted like he didn’t just break the bank all for Geralt’s benefit. He didn’t even get anything for himself and that realisation had Geralt feeling slightly embarrassed about the gesture.

“You don’t have to buy me all this stuff, Jask.”

“I know that, dearest,” Jaskier assured him, eyes soft and an easy smile playing on his lips, “but I wanted to. Only the best for you, my sweet witcher.”

The mystery of where Jaskier managed to find the coin to pay for all this remains unsolved, despite Geralt’s questioning. Well, if Jaskier won’t outright tell him, then Geralt will just have to investigate the matter by himself.

"Where the fuck did you get your hand on all the coin to pay for all this?" Geralt asks one evening, blunt and straight to the point. There was probably a kinder and gentler way to ask this, but after spending weeks mulling over Jaskier's sudden new-found fortune, Geralt has lost the little patience he possessed in the matter. Jaskier, on the other hand, looks perfectly unperturbed.

"From the bank," he offers simply as he sprinkles expensive herbs over the hare Geralt caught earlier that evening, "you know, where people deposit their valuables? I know you witchers don't believe in bank accounts, savings and interests, but-"

"Where does the coin come from?" Geralt interrupts, hissing those words through clenched teeth.

"Why, my inheritance."

Geralt stares for a long while. It takes his brain several seconds to catch up to what Jaskier is telling him, and another few seconds to make sense of the words. Inheritance?

"What inheritance?"

"Well, when my father passed away he left me and my siblings a share of his wealth. That's how inheritance works. Say, pass me my satchel my dear, I think I have some more spices in there."

Geralt wordlessly hands Jaskier his satchel, still trying to process this new discovery. Come to think of it, Geralt knows precious little about Jaskier's family. Sure, that's probably on him for never asking, but Geralt has grown so used to Jaskier oversharing every aspect of his life that he never needed to ask his bard anything. Jaskier just… never talked about his family. Or his childhood, or his upbringing. His life story seems to always begin when he was a student at Oxenfurt.

Geralt is growing curiouser by the minute.

"When did your father pass?"

"Oh? Uh… good question. Maybe a few years after I went to Oxenfurt? I'm not sure. I received a letter from the bank notifying me that a share of my father's wealth was deposited in my account."

Geralt frowns. "You never went back to find out what happened?"

"No."

Well, that's an oddly abrupt response, and Jaskier doesn't seem like he's got anything to say on the matter. Which only makes Geralt feel more curious about the whole thing.

"Why not?"

"Geralt…" Jaskier heaves a sigh before putting on a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, too tense to be genuine. "My father and I didn't get along. I felt no need to go mourn him with the rest of my noble family in Lettenhove when he passed. That's it. That's all there's to it. I was not a good enough man to refuse my share of the inheritance, either, despite my non-existent relationship with him."

That's a lot to unpack. Geralt always assumed that Jaskier had a good childhood. Then again, he would think that, wouldn't he, considering Geralt spent his own childhood being tortured by magnanimous and sadistic mages. Where most children got to spend time outside helping out in the fields or playing with their friends, Geralt was put through drill after drill, after drill… until he was physically unable to walk so much his muscles hurt.

"Wait… did you say your noble family?"

"Hm?"

"In Lettenhove… there's nothing in Lettenhove. Only the Viscount and his family live there on a large esta-" Geralt's mouth clicks shut as realisation dawns on him. "Your father was the Viscount of Lettenhove?"

"Yes. And since I'm the oldest, after he died that title passed onto me. But I much prefer being a bard, so I graciously devolved my duties to my younger brother, who now manages the estate. Are we done with this conversation?"

"I didn't mean to make you mad…"

Geralt watches Jaskier stop dead in his tracks, his shoulders briefly tensing at those words, before exhaling loudly through his nose. Jaskier anxiously rubs the back of his neck as he straightens up and offers Geralt a sheepish smile, that one warmer and softer than the previous one.

"Sorry, dear heart. I didn't mean to be so short with you. It's just… well, there's a reason I don't bring up my family all that much."

"Hm." Geralt gently taps the spot next to him on his bedroll, and Jaskier doesn't have to be told twice. Soon, Geralt has one arm wound tightly around Jaskier's shoulders. Not quite a hug, but the intention is there all the same, and Jaskier eagerly melts in the embrace. "I shouldn't have insisted. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise. You did nothing wrong." Jaskier nuzzles the crook of Geralt's neck sweetly before depositing a featherlight kiss just over his pulse point. "Do you want to ask me anything?"

Geralt ponders over that question far too long before whispering an answer in the air pocket between them.

"Did he hurt you?"

Jaskier hesitates.

"Not physically, no. He didn't approve of my aspirations and choices. He didn't support me. I suppose it hurt a little when he didn't see me away to Oxenfurt at the age of 15, but he never raised a hand on me."

"Hm." Good, Geralt thinks. No child should ever have to suffer at the hand of an adult. Geralt earned plenty a beating at Kaer Morhen, some justified and others not so much. Just because he went through this doesn't mean he condones it.

"At least I get to spend his money on someone I love," Jaskier offers softly, eyes as blue as the deepest ocean glancing up at Geralt through dark lashes, “That, at least, the old man can’t take away from me.”

A happy little rumble bubbles up Geralt's chest, despite the blush gracing his cheeks.

"I never thanked you for the gifts." Geralt blushes a deeper shade of red at the realisation. "Sorry. It's been a long year."

"Well, good thing we're heading North soon then, hm?" Jaskier straightens up so he can cradle Geralt's face in his lute-calloused hands. Their eyes meet then, amber seeking out blue, and Geralt thinks that he must be the luckiest son of a bitch in all the Continent.

"Yes," he agrees in a whisper, tilting his face to place a kiss on the inside of Jaskier's wrist, "good thing, indeed."

Request a prompt

[allalrightagain]

Get to Know Me Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @felixantares 💜 🤍 🖤 Relationship status - single. Still passively hoping someone will marry me for health insurance one of these days Favourite colour - depends on my mood, but dark army green, purple, or grey are usually top three Favourite food - if someone else is making it I will literally never turn down red curry + thai roti Song stuck in your head - I Don't Love You by MCR Last thing you googled - uhhh “beta blockers” to confirm that they’d cause more issues than they’d solve Time - 11:11! make a wish (did I write this at work and then wait to post until I got home? Yes. editing on mobile sucks) Dream trip - I’d love to do an extended Europe trip, either backpacking or, more realistically, rent an apartment somewhere and do weekend trips because I do not have backpacking stamina Last book/fic you read - book was still Gideon the Ninth despite being ages ago I still have hope to get to book two. Eventually. last fic has been mostly WIPs— I'm reading along with HPFC Power the Dark Lord Knows Not by @fantismal and Jormandugr, and keeping up with what's past is prologue by quiettewandering/ @wanderingdream, and snippets from seattle by @thesameoldstreets (which is... technically not a fic? but also not really a book? it's OF and I've been screaming about it all week) Last book you enjoyed - see above! I very rarely finish a book I’m not enjoying Last book you hated - nothing I’ve finished recently, but I do occasionally grab ebook samples of uh, questionable romance novels just for fun. Sometimes they’re very good. Sometimes they’re very very bad. Favourite thing to cook/bake - i love baking! I love tinkering with new recipes to make them better/allergy safe/vegan etc. Not sure I could pick just one, but I have very good vegan fudge, soft pretzel, and pie crust recipes (pie > cake, always) Favourite craft to do in your free time - ooh a bunch! Knitting or bujo, but also I own a Cricut and a lot of fancy pens because that's half the fun Most niche dislikes - I’ve been labelled a very weird picky eater, even without taking the allergies into consideration. I can’t stand spinach or eggplant, truffles (the mushroom), and when I could eat them, bacon and most non-mozzarella cheeses. I also only eat peas frozen or in peapods, or frozen blueberries (sorry this turned into just food lol) Opinion on circuses - I had a weird experience with an off duty clown a while ago that’s put me off of them a bit, but in general my opinion is it’s a very specific performance art, which I appreciate but also it’s not really my thing. Do you have a sense of direction and if not what’s the worst way you’ve gotten lost? - yes and no. if I’m actively paying attention, I can usually keep myself decently oriented, but it absolutely takes effort and intent. But also I can look up and realize I haven’t been paying any attention to how I got somewhere and have no idea how to get back 😅

Tagging: uhhh probably all people who have done it already but I don't care I'm gonna make ask you nicely to do it again anyway. @mkaugust @everythingbutcoldfire @lunapwrites @broomsticks @nanneramma