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inlocusmads · 1 month

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I have a very important question to ask, so let me slide into your inbox real quick! Does Trystan ever properly introduce Nora to the Drakovian / Eastern European culture? What does he show her? What are her impressions? 👀❤️

Oh HECK YESSSSSSSS

I hate what canon did so much I am going to pull a Thanos and snap it out of existence. Here's a little HC of how that goes (and yes I'm breaking them down into categories)

Disclaimers: - these are just my hcs!!!! - take a shot everytime I say "cantonese" or "drakovian" (please don't)

Literature: Trystan loves feeding in little tidbits about his culture wherever he finds it plausible. Mostly he enjoys quoting Drakovian literature and stuff he's read in the past - things that resonated with him deeply. He does so over a voice message or dinner or really, any given situation and he loves LOVES to share them. Nora's not the reading-type as in someone you'd expect to pick up reading for a hobby and instead she likes listening to Trys as he goes off on tangents about how a case might be relevant to a quote he read a long time ago or things just remind him of home in some way.

TV and Film: Nora's introduction to Drakovian culture is largely dependent on how the royals perceive it, so Trystan makes it a point to introduce her to a bunch of different films (and yes, in the off chance the films aren't dubbed or subbed, he pauses it every now and then to supply translations). It's easier for Nora to grasp (given she gravitates towards films a lot) and she ends up liking films with a lot of contemporary themes. I hc Drakovian films usually tend to gravitate towards historic themes or comedy-with-hidden-commentary and in terms of TV shows, a fraction of them might tend to gravitate towards procedural/workplace dramas and psychological/crime thrillers that might have a more serialized, seasons-spanning model or TV shows based on plays. Nora will eat that up entirely because if there's one thing she loves besides films, she loves when shows are these episodic collection of stories. She also ends up really liking some Drakovian feel-good stuff too - with the storylines (I hc) focusing on themes of "coming back home", road-trip comedies, stories set in small-towns that reflect upon the country's heritage, black comedies set in cities or this niche genre of "old person tries to keep up with today's world" or just these really mundane little ideas packaged into their own stories. They're not all "murders and daggers" cmon, let's be real.

Onto my absolute favourite part - THE LANGUAGE: Besides getting to know tid bits here and there from film and books, Trystan loves just teaching Nora a couple handy words in Drakovian. I'd like to think he did teach her a few words - just the basics when they went to talk to Bird in Book 1 (to really hammer in that good cop/bad cop routine) and once Nora reciprocated that interest back, he was like "YES now here's a couple of swear words you need to start off with" (jk jk) The reason why Nora showed an interest was largely due to the commonality she drew between her native language - Cantonese and Drakovian - and especially how they have these certain unique phrases that can't just be translated, even though Cantonese and Drakovian have very little similarities in terms of grammar or sentence structure. However they are both tonal languages (I hc Drakovian does focus on tones but it's not heavily dependent and a native speaker would be able to discern the differences without any confusion) which calls for some hilarious moments where Nora overpronounces Drakovian words and gets super focused on the tones and Trystan's like "Nora, it is okay! You can relax!" Both of them, when they're good to share, kind of introduce each other to their native languages. Normally Nora struggles with emphasizing her "r's" (she grew up speaking Cantonese at home and English in school) because Cantonese doesn't have the "r" sound and well, Drakovian takes incredible pride in enunciating your "r's" as much as possible. And how does Trystan help her with it? Swears. It's almost satisfying to exclaim in Drakovian than it is in English because there's about a hundred different ways to put your excitement as well as disappointment (sometimes both) out there. The day Nora ends up dropping something - possibly a cup of coffee and loudly swears in Drakovian is also the day Trystan's just crying tears of joy, full on happy breakdown, in the background. Conjugations suck. Forgetting English for a bit here, Cantonese from what I have gathered, doesn't have conjugations for verbs, instead there are characters that go before or after the word to indicate a specific tense. It's a bit of an uphill climb for Nora to go through this spiel because Drakovian swears by verb conjugations which makes up at least a fraction of its already complicated grammar rules. So yes, even though Nora knows this little "language exchange" thing they've got going on is something both of them really treasure in their relationship, she's one grammatically-incorrect sentence away from screaming.

Culture, traditions and so on: Trystan isn't just a walking encyclopedia of his country's traditions, rather quite literally a valuable resource for the Agency's cases. I'd like to think Drakovians who come to America end up settling in parts of the East Coast or perhaps uber-rich business conglomerates based in Drakovia gravitate towards parts of NYC for well, business reasons. While it isn't a considerable population compared to larger demographics, there is still a population comprised of business owners, celebrities, wealthy magnates and so on who might be interested in employing the services of a one private detective agency (and the endorsement by an exiled prince boosts their credibility too) The Agency do find themselves tackling a lot of high-profile cases and assisting big-name corporate law firms. Trystan's abundance of knowledge in Drakovia's culture and economics - and even some parts of Eastern Europe (thanks to trade and ambassador parties) helps Nora understand the nuances even better. A big lesson for her to learn - ever since the Agency gained traction after the Hand of Mahra case - was to discern between two different clients. A case is intrinisically unique on its own and factors such as economic, culture and society plays an additional role that gives her substance to go on with. It's how she learns more about Sonja in the first place and Drakovia's extensive history with art. Tidbits like that give her so much additional insight to carry on with. Eventually she just really ended up liking Trystan's stories (partly because he's a very good storyteller) - more than what he did as a kid and emphasis on what he saw. They kind of found a solace within each other's cultures because Nora learned the more Trystan kept talking about his, the more he tended to forgive himself for and the more Nora talked about her culture - be it through food or language or film or virtually anything she wished to share - she kind of began embracing her background instead of associating it with her trauma and wanting to ignore it entirely. Their heritage is super important to them. Trystan's family prided themselves over how their culture cannot simply be "shared around" and Nora's parents struggled to build themselves a home away from home in America, whilst ensuring their daughter didn't forget her culture. How they perceive their cultures is so rooted in their familial relationships that of course, it's going to be difficult trying to distinguish the stuff you want to forget from the culture you were brought up with. Partly why they (mostly Nora, because she doesn't like talking all that much) encourage the other to just talk about these things. It took them a while to realize even though they had completely different upbringings, they still had a couple things in common.

And lastly, the People and Places: One thing I really liked about Crimes 2 was the People's Garden scene where Trystan's just rambling about the places he loved as a kid and it's such a gateway into giving Nora an insight more than books, tv, movies, food, music etc. (They literally say that canonically too, if I'm not wrong - about wanting to take MC and give them a tour of their home) and it's like absolutely imperative to Trystan for Nora to have her experience it. Not many opportunities arise for them to go back home, but Trystan makes do with places in New York. From pubs to sociable gatherings, Trystan happens to know - and do some of his own finding-and-gathering to figure out the best scenes. He has a group of his own friends who run restaurants, bars, manage parks and so on and it's the best place for Nora to really understand what the culture is like, rather than see it from a royal/monarchial standpoint. And Nora ends up making a few friends on her own. It's great!

Out of all the avenues, Nora especially connects with the places and the language the best. Obviously it's a slow process. It took them eons to actually open up and even more so for Nora to see Trystan as Trystan and not as an exiled prince/diplomat/top-dog person or as a workplace colleague rather just a really really good friend of hers.

Them taking the time and effort to finding commonalities and compromises made them not only strong as a team (in terms of the job) but just bring them a lot more closer. They get a little jolt of happiness when the other takes an interest in the other - as in, when Trystan's able to read the label off a pack of sunflower seeds in perfect Cantonese or Nora swearing left and right in Drakovian and that basically prompts them to be more open and honest and thus, the cycle of "I NEED to tell you about this little factoid" continues lmao.

___

I'm super super sorry this ran for pages Anon! I just loveeeeee talking about their little sharing-of-the-culture (if that's a word?) <333 Thank you SO MUCH FOR THE ASK I HAVE LITERALLY WANTED AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT THIS FOREVAHHH

#anonymous #askboxed #trystan x nora #thorne rose headcanons

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andiwriteordie · 1 year

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hello Andi. I am once again invading your inbox to talk about the possibilities of a Merlin AU bc I know you see the vision and it actually fits so perfectly??

Mike as Arthur

Will as Merlin

El as Gwen

Max as Morgana

Lucas as Lancelot

Dustin as Gwaine

Like?? With adjustments to the plot + character arcs and how events play out (like for example Lucas would fall in love w Max still not El but also elmax as morgwen possibilities), it fits them all so WELL especially Mike and Will as Arthur and Merlin. Even their families fit: Will growing up with a single mom in poverty who loves him, Mike growing up in wealth with a shitty asf dad that makes horrible decisions but Mike would be a much better leader than him-

anyway. Thoughts? I’m considering making a 5-10 chapter fic with 1-2 chapters per Merlin season after I finish the show but idk anyways I’m getting off track I mostly just wanted to hear ur thoughts on the concept bc I know you’re a merthur enthusiast and u have a Merlin AU wip rn 😎🫶

okay okay okay hi elli. i have thoughts on this, and it's been a while since i've thought about those thoughts but here i am today. to share with you my thoughts. some of them get a little funky weird controversial, so bear with me. (also. i say read all of this with caution if you're still watching merlin, bc i'm gonna try to not spoil too much of it, but i will be hitting on major character arcs that build throughout the show!)

the easy ones. will's merlin. mike's arthur. duh. easy peasy. all the parallels you just mentioned? perfect. literally byler as merthur works so well, and i just know modern byler would've loved this show. like mike starts watching it and gets so excited??? anyways.

i also think lucas is actually more of a mix of lancelot/gwaine, and dustin would be leon (though depending on where you are in the series, you might not have gotten to the point where leon is a more central character?). anyways, i think lucas is a mix of lancelot/gwaine because he has the same moral righteous and kindness of lancelot, but is definitely more brash like gwaine (love my boy planning to storm fucking hnl by himself lol). with dustin, leon's a very level-headed character, also arthur's second in command for later seasons with the knights, and so i think it fits with how mike and dustin are both the planners and dustin sorta steps up to help lead in mike's absence in s4!

now for the girls. so, i've gone back and forth on this, because for obvious reasons, the el/gwen parallel works because of the merlin/arthur/gwen and will/mike/el love triangle. like that's the most obvious interpretation of this. but then, as i was thinking about it (and honestly i was wandering down this rabbit hole while writing my merlin byler fic lmao), i was trying to think about where el having powers and just willel in general would fit into all of this?

so i started thinking about el/morgana, which then would um. make max/gwen. (i'll come back to that in a second, let me explain el/morgana first.) i'm just thinking about how morgana is one of the most powerful sorcerers we see in the show and how morgana and merlin are foils to each other. i think there's an episode that calls morgana the darkness to merlin's light. so like yes, merlin and arthur are two sides of the same coin and have their shared destiny, but likewise, morgana has always been that third part of their destiny (which is so fun once you explore the ancient religions and stuff this show loosely pulls inspiration from, because three is kind of a big number) in that she is connected to merlin.

so you think about willelmike, right? and obviously, el is our hero and protagonist of the show, so she's not gonna end up turning bad unlike morgana. but in the context of thinking about a merlin x st crossover, how interesting would it be if el did turn evil? because in st, we see this is a back and forth conversation el has with herself - is she the monster? is she good? or is she bad?

and i think about an el who actually did go with henry when prompted to in the lab. an el whose moral code would be shaped and manipulated by someone with an ulterior motive, someone who recognizes her power. because that, in my opinion, is what happened to morgana with morgause. morgana was terrified and alone because she had this secret which could get her killed, and morgause was the first to show that her magic could be good. so she trusted morgause and went spiraling down a path that led her to destruction because of how morgause manipulated her into thinking. i don't think morgana was ever inherently evil. i think the fear and manipulation motivated her and morphed into anger and a desire for revenge, because this poor woman was alone for so much of her story.

so, when i'm imagining a merlin x st au, i am imagining henry would take that morgause role. if we're following merlin canon, will and el never learn about each other's magic and spend their character arcs alone and motivated by fear, when they really could've found solace and love and acceptance in each other. if we're not following merlin canon, will decides not to be an idiot? and he tells el about his magic? and they become magic twins together, and look, el grew up as mike's sister essentially, so then will's basically her brother in law.

(also. the platonic elmike sibling vibes crack me up. like all the canon st jokes about how they're so family coded? that right there. merlin vibes. they're family. no dating your sister.)

anyways, so that then defaults us to having max as gwen, which i think would change her character a little bit. maybe instead of a romance between max and mike, it's more that sort of friendship that gwen and arthur do develop, because max challenges mike to be better and brings out the good parts of him - the parts that care about justice and about his people and about doing the right thing. and so mike, kind of feeling forced into having a queen because ya know. laws of the land and stuff, very tentatively asks max if she would ever consider stepping into that role because he believes she would be an excellent leader. and so that's when the engagement happens and stuff and it's for show for the people, and only like. will and max and mike and dustin know that obviously. and then through whatever circumstances, the engagement ends up called off, and unlike in merlin canon, it doesn't end up happening again, and max just becomes an advisor to mike, who remains single as a king until. ya know. magic is legalized and he marries will (not following canon lol. or he dies. and i cry again.

okay that's it! the end! :)

(does this make hopper gaius)

#andi's asks #byler x merlin

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mlmxreader · 9 months

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Hiya! Hope you're doing well because I'm about to hit you with an onslaught of questions from the Get to Know Your Fic Writer (as well as spam the asks with requests 🙂):

1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

5. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

6. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

7. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

8. What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

9. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

10. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

11. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

🐍anon

ALRIGHTY!!! I'm down for spamming my inbox ngl, like, if you got the time and you want to, absolutely go ahead!

1. it depends, really! some fics I write solely as a one-shot and they turn into multi-chapter, others I specifically write so that they can become a series!

2. when it comes to multi-chapter fic, I do have a little bit of a plan in mind for them; I don't plan them in GREAT detail, but I will have, like, a list of ideas that I want within the chapters!

3. have a cigarette and a bit of a think. ask @tokillamockingbird427 about something and get an idea (specific only to fics w more than one chapter and/or series fics dhfkskfk). have another cigarette. start writing and realise I don't like the idea. start again. have another cigarette and realise what I wanted.

4. p much everywhere! some fics have been inspired by real emotions and events, others come from a random idea that popped into my head - most descriptions of woodland and rural areas come from when I've been out for a walk. one fic I'm working on atm (which is a COD WW2 fic, for context) was inspired by the Chasseurs Adrennais and what they did. so it can come from everywhere!

5. most of them it's after! sometimes it comes from a particular theme or image within the fic (Rabbits), others come from a line said within it (Blackbird), and then some it comes from just a random thought I have whilst writing (The Good Captain).

6. oh, definitely. I tend to like be very explicit with the cost of war and how horrific warfare itself is; "war is Hell" is very much a big pattern for me lmfao

7. first person POV is one of them, but most of it is written down in my rules.

8. I wish Christmas Truce and Fields of Verdun had gotten more response, same w 1916 and The Attack of the Dead Men

9. it's definitely Love, Hate, Sex, Pain lmfaooooo @tokillamockingbird427 was there for the entire ride and can probably attest to the fact that it's literally just... there's so much going on 💀💀 Crowley and Lt's entire dynamic is chaotic, let alone the Everything Lt Does fjfkskfkskg

10. my most favourite is being able to do stuff like major character death and getting experimental when describing warfare to be as horrific as it is in reality - being able to try and make it as gutwrenching as possible is my favourite.

my least favourite is probably waiting for feedback tbh; I don't like to sit around lmfao

11. I've got favourites per fandom, but that's mostly to do w me tbh fjfkskfkskg like Bane and Bruce Wayne (from the Nolan films) are my favourites for DC bc I loved the Nolan trilogy as a kid and love it even more today (don't tell me you wouldn't be swayed by a communist w big titties saying "we need to bomb the city to get rid of corruption and capitalism". we all would.)

#asks #🐍 anon

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jadespeedster17 · 2 years

Text

Ages Like Glass

Warnings: Blood, Hypnosis, and mild Violence.

POV: Second (You/Your)

Notes: Send help, I’ve fallen for train twins hard and it’s turning into a hyper fixation. In other news, I’ve been gaining followers like crazy, you all really like my fanfic content huh? *Flushes* And a few I follow and love their content of, which I’ll tag, have said they want to see Vampire stuff. Given I’ve mostly been doing Hivemind, let’s have some Vampire Twins as a treat.

@malaiselover @peachsodama @bellafragolina (Lol I keep tagging you guys in things as my ideas keep coming from your pages, I hope that alright. I don’t want to crowd your inbox.) ((Side note: If you all ever have a request, just let me know. I’m just happy to have inspiration :D))

Summary: you have always been able to see years above peoples heads. You know how old they area, and when they are going to die. The time they are born, and the time of their demise. But a day in a simple Unova Subway Station you meet two people who are over a hundreds years old! But... that’s impossible!

--------

People were willing to do anything to be told their fates, to be told what would happen in their life. You knew this all too well. Having been traveling around the world doing many number of ‘occult’ things. Really you just read tarot cards, bone readings, and spell jars. You found out that despite your gift, people really just wanted to have someone to rant too and give advice, and plot some revenge.

You rarely had to use your gift on people, unless they were insistent. But you still met your fair share of skeptics, hence why you stay out of the media. Excuse you for not wanting to be associated with quacks and scammers. Today was just another day, moving to your next location to set up a booth at a fair grounds. People watching as always, given your phone died. You saw the shadowy dates on their heads, their birth dates... and their death dates.

Some you tried not to cringe at, older people who were months away from theirs, some even younger then that. You often morbidly wondered how they would die so young. What would be the reason for them to just die at the age of 22? Why did that child’s date say a few weeks? But you stayed quiet, most would think your crazy... or maybe file a lawsuit against you when their person did die. Yes that almost happened, it was a nightmare, the judge laughed the case out after the woman tried. You got lucky... but didn’t bother to warn people again. Unless they were customers, you didn’t care. Or at least you tired not to.

Somedays you’d look in the mirror, your numbers were always fuzzy, you saw your birthday... but never your death day. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. But, not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth, you didn’t bother to prob it. Frankly knowing when you’re going to die was just dreadful in your opinion. Many said they wanted to know, but they didn’t understand. It was like when you time yourself, stress becomes a factor. You’ve seen clients have that happen to them.

People were milling about excitedly, talking about some... maybe celebrities, you didn’t know, coming nearby. You lost count between the many champions of different regions and gym leaders. You were not envious at all of anyone who was a big named trainer. And... you also didn’t bother with Pokémon because last time you got attached you had to watch the counter tik down for your partner. You have thought about getting a ghost type pokemon, as they didn’t seem to have any counter on their head... but weren’t sure if you were experience enough for that.

As your train was called for boarding, you got up with your head slump a bit. you really didn’t want to look any one else, having seen enough for now. And walked forward to quick board, the sooner you got out the city the better. Typical you fashion, the universe seemed to love causing problems, as you had to run into someone. You felt like an idiot, and embarrassed, how cliché was this to bump into someone lost in thought.

You look up at the person you ran into, and felt even more annoyed at the world as your face was warm. Shit... he was also cute. He was wearing all white and had a conductors hat on, a bright smile on his face and white eyes to match. You almost wrinkled your nose at this, “Sorry.” you managed out in a grumble of a tone, trying not to come off as annoyed as you felt.

“I am Emmet, it’s not a problem!” Emmet, as you clearly just started, said. Odd, but you could see peoples death’s so... no room for you to judge.

Your eyes trail up to his face and you felt shock run through your body. You could see the shadowy outlines of his dates but... they were all wrong. It didn’t make sense, given the year you were in he would have to be...

September 25, 1563.

That... would make him over 400 years old!?

But that wasn’t the strangest part, it was his death day which was blurry, you couldn’t make out anything like your own. You mouth was open in shock as Emmet looked confused at your staring. “Something on my face?” he teased you as yo blinked out of your stupor and shook your head quickly.

“N-No... sorry again.” you said pushing past him and quickly leaving. You felt cold ice in your veins. That shouldn’t be possible, no one was over 400 years old! At least no one you’ve ever met before. You ran off to board your train, trying to put it out of your mind.

You did not just see a guy who was born in the 1500′s, it was your imagination.

Some would say curiosity shouldn’t be something you always give into. After all Curiosity Killed the Cat. But as you sat there after cleaning up your booth lost in thought. The dates still floating in your head, 1563... That man, Emmet, would have been born in the Renaissances Era. You asked some people about his name, and found out a bit on it. Supposedly he was a crazy strong pokemon trainer who, with his brother, ran Gear Station.

You frowned, he looked so young, if you couldn’t see dates, you’d have swore he was in his 20′s. You narrowed your eyes packing up your things, it was getting late... you really should find a hotel for the night... you really should be putting this out of your mind.

You really shouldn’t be thinking about going back and finding out who the fuck that man was really.

. . . And here you were, going off to possibly die like the stupid horror movie protag in a subway that was near dead at midnight. The workers legit looked like zombies walking around... graveyard shift people, you’ll forever fear and salute them. So needless to say, it was laughably easy to sneak in to the Employee places only. Like you swore one of the girls saw you, but she was just too tired to give a shit. You walked down the service tunnels with really a loose plan in mind.

Find that Emmet guy and confront him about his age thing. Worst he could do is laugh at you... you hope... come to think of it would he kill you if you knew?

Admittedly the plan had more loose ends than a Whimsicott’s cotton balls, and maybe you should have more self preservation skills than this. But, your death date was unknown to you. So as far as you were concern, you were either immortal or death was scared of you. 50% chance says you wouldn’t die here, and your need to know outweighed your fear of the other 50%.

Even if you didn’t know where to start looking, you figured you’d find him eventually, as you did see him go into the tunnels briefly when you entered the station. Kind of hard not to see a man in all white, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

You little flashlight didn’t do much for light itself, but it was the best you had. Walking down the dark tunnel and trying not to stray from the path, you really didn’t want to get lost in here. You paused though as you heard something in the distance, and slowly move your light up to see what it was. Given it was a few feet in front of you, your light barely illuminated it.

But the colors of white were the first you saw then something black in the back area... oh and the blood. It was on the ground, a person, eyes glazed over in the low light of your flashlight. And two men biting the wrists.

Numb horror ran over your body at that as you could only stare. As two pairs of red eyes looked up at you and hissed, flashing fangs.

This seemed to be enough to snap you out of your trance as you screamed out in terror and turned to flight. Running full speed down the tunnel walls, you felt your lungs burn as you tried to get away, you had to get out of here! Monsters! Was the only think you mind could really supply in terms of what you just say. And the need to survive was strong as they had killed someone back there.

But you didn’t get far before something tackled you full speed, you grunted as the ground hit hard, knocking the wind from your lungs. You struggled, trying to get the arms off of you, being held down against your will. “Get off of me!” you cried out as you tried to push at the person.

“Shhh, shhhh.” they said trying to cover your mouth, but you trashed around inside. Someone else was there, gripping your head in place now with cold hands and a grip like steel. You were looking at the outlines of them, as your eyes met the one on top of you.

Red as blood, they seemed to glow in the darkness.

And you couldn’t look away.

“That’s it... breath slowly now.” their voice was firm, demanding your attention, you wanted to start struggling again but the fight left your body. The eyes seemed to pulse a little as you were held steady, “Just watch my eyes,” he told you, holding your arms down, “Let the fear fade away, breath in... breath out.”

You found yourself listening, breathing in and out slowly as he suggested, your body going limp in their grip. Those eyes were so pretty to look at. Swirling and pulsing, holding your attention with ease. “Good, very good... stay right here, you want to stay here, you have no reason to leave.” his voice was commanding, you wanted to listen to him. You nodded faintly to these words.

A sigh was heard above you as hands left your wrists and head, the person getting up from being on top of you. “This is bad.” you heard one say.

“What should we do with them? Too many witnesses unlike the other, but they’ve seen too much.”

“. . . We could take them back to our hideout, and get to see why they followed us down here.’

“This sounds like a verrrry bad idea.”

The voices faded in and out, like you were underwater, you felt calm though, light weight and floaty. And soon everything else just faded with it.

“Come out now... follow my voice, and wake up.” You heard as your eyes opened slowly, you... knew that voice. That was the same one of the guy that had..

Your eyes snapped open as you saw a person in front of you. His eyes no longer red, but now pools of white. “Good, your awake, I was afraid I pushed you too far.” he told you you could only stare at him. “Okay, please don’t freak out, we just want to ask you some questions.”

Not like you could, your body still felt like it weighed 50 pounds. The man sat back in front of you, “My name is Ingo for starts, and my brother says he’s already met you.” he begins as you only glare at him, but that doesn’t deter him. “Given you’re still alive, could I ask why you thought to follow us don’t into the tunnels?”

Making a face you gazed up at his head at the numbers, the same as Emmet’s. September 25th 1563, and the death date was scrawled out. Then back down to Ingo’s face, at this point, what did you have to lose? Telling the truth might be your best option.

Gazing at Ingo for a long moment you finally spoke up, “You and your brother were born in 1563, September 25th... the time was around 7am.” you said to him calmly, and he can only stare at you.

The silence held between you both, heavy and thick.

Finally you broke the silence, “I can see it, you date of birth.” you pointed to above his head, “It’s like floating numbers, it tells me when you were born...” you looked at him, “And when you die.”

Ingo seemed to blink with a soft, “Ah.” escaping his mouth, “So you saw Emmet’s date of birth and thought to ask why he’s over 400?” he asked you, with an eyebrow raise.

You looked sheepish, “Saying it like that sounds stupid, but yes.” you admits, your plan really was as stupid as it sounds.

“Because it was verrrry stupid!” Emmet’s voice said as he rounded the corner with a grin, “Middle of the night you just decide to follow me into a dark ally. What if I had been hunting you silly?” he teased you with a boop to your nose.

You looked indianite at that, face feeling warm again. Not like you had room to talk as asshole had a point. So instead you made a face like a pout, which only made Emmet coo at you. You smacked his hands away with a glare, you would not be cooed over by him, you were angry damn it!

“Regardless... you know now what we are...” Ingo said to you as Emmet did back off with a snicker.

You gazed back at him, you had a pretty good idea after everything. “Vampires.” you told them, “You’re both vampires.”

Emmet decided next to you was a good seat as he nodded, “I am Emmet, but vampire is not just that. I’m not just some bloodsucker, oh no no. While I can drink blood, I also feed on energy too!” he said in a very proud tone of this.

“Huh?” You looked confused to him then to Ingo, who sighed at that.

“There are several kinds of vampires. Lesser born ones, as portrayed in media, are the Blood Sucker kinds.” he started to explain, “Most every vampire can feed on blood, but some can get it from other sources. My younger brother here-”

“only by 3 minuets!” Emmet said to him with a nose wrinkle.

Ingo’s eyes only glinted with mischief, “My younger brother,” he stressed again, seemingly liking how that pissed off Emmet, “is a Energy Vampire. Meaning he feeds on both Blood and Energy. This energy comes off in emotions, mainly positive ones.”

After glaring at Ingo, Emmet decided to turn to you and nodded with a smile, “Remember to Smile, as I always say! If people are at ease around me and trust me, I feed verrrrry good!” he told you. He then relaxed his smile, “Since so many people come into the station, I don’t have to worry about over feeding on them.”

Something told you that overfeeding on energy was bad, but you really didn’t want details. You looked back at Ingo, “And you are?” you asked.

“My brother is a Soul Vampire!” Emmet said proudly, “He can feed on the souls of other humans to sate his hunger, turning them into thralls of sorts.”

You could only gap at that as Ingo sighed, “A bit blunt Emmet,” he told him as Emmet only shrugged passively. The older shook his head, “Yes, I’m a Soul Vampire, I don’t feed on them often enough as my brother does, but you had the unfortune luck of seeing my alst victim.”

“That guy in the tunnel.” You whispered in shock as Ingo’s white eyes stared at you, all the confirmation you needed.

Clearing his throat Ingo continued, “If it makes you feel better, he was not a kind man, won’t be missed either.” he explained, but it still made you ill that Ingo had pretty much sucked the soul out of a human and then they drained his body dry.

Cold fear ran through you, “Would you have done that to me?” you asked a bit hesitant, part of you wanting an answer, the other not.

Emmet leaned back on the couch, “Actually that’s why we brought you here, obviously we can’t let you leave to tell others... but we also don’t have reason to kill you.” he gazes at you with a head tilt and grin. “So we were going to ask if you would stay with us instead!”

Now you see more of what Ingo meant earlier by ‘blunt’. Emmet was clearly smart, but liked to hide his calculative nature by child like actions. But he was also blunt to a fault, in just the short interaction you had with him, you felt you knew alot and nothing at all. And you felt you knew even less about Ingo. So why were they offering you this?

Your eyes told this much as Ingo spoke up next, “It’s an offer is all, we don’t want our secret getting out.. but you gift intrigues us also. Able to see fake IDs easy, better than most in our coven could.” he explained to you, as you stared at him going on about the benefits they’d offer to you if you chose to stay.

Emmet was now talking, “The only requirement of you is that you allow us to feed on you when we need to, and keep it secret what we are. In return we give you protection from other creatures and covens, longer life span, and eventually a chance to join our coven.” he listened off by holding out fingers. “Oh and we’ll make sure your verrry healthy, junk food blood and energy tastes awful.” he made a disgusted face.

“Feeding?” you managed to ask them.

Ingo pointed to his own wrist, “We mostly bite our, in the know, employees on the wrist, we don’t take alot of blood, just enough incase we really need it. Which isn’t often. Our coven members are the same, as sires we will not allow any of them to harm you.” he promised to you.

They were really trying hard to get you to agree... and honestly it might be working.

Your job was whatever you could find, always on the move, afraid of the day someone might hurt you for using your gift for them. Now to know that vampires, maybe even werewolves, demons, and other creatures existed... would they hunt you too? Ingo did say your gift was intriguing, meaning not many have it from the sound of it. but to live a half life? And maybe become a vampire?

You didn’t have anyone, but humanity was something that allow you to die. A short lifespan to try and cram so much into, centuries seemed to vast. Yet the shadowy scrawl that should have been your death date taunted you, fate was a strange mistress, and a cruel one too.

Gazing up at the two again, you took a breath in, “When would I start?” you asked.

Emmet’s shoulders relaxed at that and his smile did too, Ingo nodded to you with a smile of his own. “Tomorrow night we’ll show you the ropes, then let the others teach you from there. You’ll need to know a few things about trains, but with time you’ll get it.” he said in a happy tone also.

His younger brother ruffled your hair, “I am Emmet, and we have more than enough time.” he agreed before looking at Ingo, “tomorrow we can also bond with you.”

Bond? the world sounded odd but frankly you had a feeling you’d find out later. For now, Ingo helped you to your feet and offered to let you stay the night. Creatures like to hunt around this time, and until you were bonded, he didn’t want to risk losing you, neither did Emmet.

You agreed, if only because you were a bit uneasy about leaving now. And oddly, you felt you cold trust these two.

-------

headcanons again!

1. Emmet is very smart and knows as much as his brother, but he likes to act more childish and silly because it makes others smile. Just be afraid if you piss him off, if the small falls, run. He’s the more extroverted of the two twins and damn proud of it. But giggles when people say Ingo is so shy, because his brother just doesn’t like public.

2. Ingo is the more serious looking of the two, he talks loudly without meaning too even at a normal volume. He does most of the teasing out of the two brothers, mainly to Emmet. But alone, Ingo can be just as silly as his brother, who seems to bring it out in him. His quiet nature is only in public.

3. Emmet has tiks, ‘I am Emmet’ and ‘Verrrry’ are one of them, he also does flappy hands when excited, and bounces on his feet. When standing idle for too long he starts to bop his head to music he hears in his head. He’s also a pacer when thinking. had random bouts of giggles when he thinks of something funny, people give him weird looks when he does this.

4. Ingo is almost the same way, he flaps his fists though and has to hold himself back form making noises when he does so. Once or twice Emmet has had to stop him form almost hitting himself when he stims. He sometimes grits his teeth too much, which Emmet says he really shouldn’t do. And he rocks on his from one foot to the other, or does the penguin arm flaps, when idle. He’s a talker when deep in thought, doesn't care if your not listening.

5. Both twins are afraid they come off as too much to others, hence why they don’t like going in public as often.

These headcanons are based upon my friend who has ADHD and Tiks himself. that or he’s Autistic, one of the two, getting looked at by a (good) therapist is hard in the bible belt.

#subway master ingo #subway master emmet #vampire au #submas #tw hypnosis #tw blood #tw mild violence #one shot #second person pov #pokemon

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moriartyluver · 6 months

Note

OMG MOTHER YOU ARE FEEDING US THIS WEEK

FIRST OF ALL

NEW FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER??? HELLO I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND HIGGLING THE ENTIRE TIME

fl is so really for those thoughts about Liam icl. If I slept with a man that fine I’d never stop thinking about it 😭 The way Jack was treating her like a daughter in law 🤭🤭

DONT GET ME STARTED ON LIAM RESPECTFULLY CHECKING OUT FL. IK THIS IS FROM FLS PERSPECTIVE MOSTLY BUT IF WE GOT LIAMS PERSPECTIVE, ISTG HE WOULD JUST BE THINKING ABT HER NON STOP

liam choking on the tea in the bonus 💀 I love how you didn’t use the usuals gender stereotypes of a virgin woman with a man who’s fucked half the female population. I think it makes a lot of sense for Liam and fls dynamic too (+ I livvvveee for subby liam 😩)

ANYWAYS

The band au 🤭 I’m so excited for more chapters omg

the way I called it Are you mine? Had me SCREAMING

i love AM and the references were just too good. Most fics never get pop culture references good but I think you did amazing. I’m gonna binge pistols today solely because of the sex pistols reference and also so I can theorise on what will happen.

the band is so cool too 😭 (name) is actually the embodiment of arabella and Brooklyn baby. She isn’t a rockstar’s gf she is a ROCKSTAR GF and she is hilarious. If she was a real artist I’d absolutely adore her and go to every concert fr

The bit about her parents was so sad but really well written at the same time 😕 like you can tell they care about her and want her to have a good career but they still obviously were in the wrong, especially her father not owning up to his mistake. It reminded me of Lane’s mother in Gilmore girls finding all of Lane’s stuff and kicking her out (please don’t do that to y/n my heart wouldn’t be able to take it)

omg that bit about her meeting liam 😭 it was too too funny. Bro was probably star struck but I love how they’re similar even though you’d expect them to be complete opposites

I’ve been rambling too much now but I’m really proud of you for how well you seem to be managing both writing and college too.

-🦢 anon (aka ur biggest fan)

OMG HI AGAIN

Liams perspective may be coming soon 👀

It’s so hard to write his perspective tho icl. Like what is bro thinking.

Also yes u have no idea how much I hate opening up an mtp fic and then all of a sudden it’s just casual misogyny and gender roles EVERYWHERE like Ik it was normal at the time but surely liam of all people wouldn’t be contributing to it??

The mtp band au is everything to me rn. It’s my baby. I think of it all the time. I just loooove how creative I can be with it

PLEASE WATCH PISTOLS. ITS LITERALLY SO GOOD. THE CINEMATOGRAPHY, THE PLOT, THE SOUNDTRACK, THE CHARACTERS ITS ALL JUST *chefs kiss*

I was actually so tempted to call the fic ‘arabella’ but it felt wrong and restricting because it’s a whole ass name of that makes sense?? I didn’t want people to click on it and think it was gonna be about an oc or something I might add a few arabella references tho 🤭

I was low-key inspired by Lane’s backstory. Like the bit about her trying to find herself except she won’t end up with a Zack because I hated that mf

Also thank you sm 🫶🏼 it really means a lot. It’s pretty tough doing updates but I still want to interact with people on tumblr if that makes sense but I also have to prioritise college too 😕

And dw I don’t mind rambles. Please feel free to send almost anything to my inbox, I really don’t mind <3

#—a’s anons 💄#—false lovers 💋#—a’s asks 💌#—are you mine 🎸

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vayneoc · 11 months

Text

15 Questions

And the sponsor of today's inbox: @juststayquiete.

Hi kleff (｡･ω･)ﾉﾞ

1. Are you named after anyone?

Either no or I am not aware of it.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Can't really remember. Maybe this winter?

3. Do you have kids?

No, thank you.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Sarcasm is a passive-agressive witty. I prefer not-needing-a-therapist witty, also called "irony".

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

Surprisingly, there is a list.

Handball at school for a few years. Mostly used it to travel, since we as a team have been to Moscow, Saint-Petersburg and some other places (lol no, we weren't that good, but still had some competitions, for an unknown to me reason).

Some track-and-field. Left after a month, i guess. Just did it because my school teacher told me to try. The vibe was off.

Aikido. Got a new girl to our class, she was into it. Went with her for a couple months or so. Was fun but not my thing.

And like 3 years of gymnastics around age of 6-7. The funniest part, because I don't remember these 3 years at all, it's only that my mom said it was whole 3 fucking years. I have only like 3 core memories about it and genuinely thought it was about 4 months total at most.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people?

Actually, nothing at all. I just vibe and see if it feels okay. Leave, if it's not.

7. Eye colour?

Gray.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. Life in today's society is one big drama anyway, give it some fucking sense with my happy fluffy stuff.

9. Any special talents?

Sometimes insanely adaptive.

Make not working shit work, even if at the beginning i have no idea what it is.

Speak like 3.5 languages, if it's any special.

10. Where were you born?

Northern Russia.

11. What are your hobbies?

Obviously gaming and VP. Also drawing, learning languages, coding, some calisthenics, some guitar. And I play D&D sometimes.

12. Do you have any pets?

A cat at my parents' place. Not quite "I" have it tho.

13. How tall are you?

170

(5'6/5'7 something, dunno, not american)

14. Favourite subject in school?

Math, Arts, Chemistry.

Math is cool. Love it.

The last one is here only because the teacher let me make tea in a cup at her lab and drink it during the class. Love her.

And my arts teacher taught me how to use a tattoo machine at the housekeeping classroom after school (yeah, i know, fucking awesome. ao3 worth tier of awesome. which is a lot). Shout out to her, she's cool.

15. Dream job?

Hanako Arasaka's sugar baby is a job, right?

Right.

If not, just a cool software engineer with cool tasks and architectures to project would be neat. Don't forget the high ass salary.

Tagging @bnbc and @soul-invictus because I can. And no one can stop me.

Join if you feel like it. Or not.

#ask #my stuff #my stuff: about me #my stuff: playground

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virtuosin · 3 years

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{{ Passing out but bless each and every one of you. Thank you for being patient with me as always, and thank you to those who checked in on me during my godawful week last week. You’re wonderful, appreciated, and beloved. <3 }}

#out of music || ooc #i'm just #so happy to know y'all #and interact and chat #uvu #<3 #anyway #i'm super tired #and need to rest but #HELLO NEW FOLLOWERS #i mostly did inbox call stuff today #and wrapped up the HG #but I'm looking to be more active this week #I'M DETERMINED

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archonoftears · 3 years

Text

info: modern au! reader receives a package that helps her tease her boyfriend while he’s at work.

warnings: 18+ smut, slight breeding kink (mentioned), lingerie, phone sex (kinda), pretty vanilla, no penetration, just description, a tiny bit of dom/sub (implied through dialogue)

word count: 1,626

authors note: umm head empty, thoughts only filled with laying in zhonglis bed and teasing him over the phone. i really can’t remove myself from modern au! with ceo daddy zhong. so here we are again. not gonna lie though, i found myself looking at dragon dildos yesterday and now i just wanna write dragon zhongli and sacrificial maiden. so maybe after i finish with the first chapter of my other fic i’ll get right on that.

ps no beta, i just kinda got this out and edited it once. so sorry if any mistakes or issues.

please thirst with me if you want to!!

Glancing around your dining room table you felt defeated by the amount of packages staring back at you. You were surprised by the latest delivery of clothing you had received for PR from a few high end designers. You knew you shouldn't have been shocked, dating a CEO of a multi million dollar cooperation came with many perks. Yet you never imagined anything like this. Knowing the mess would only stay on the table if you didn’t start tackling it. You began opening up a few packages, finding bags and shoes. Even the latest spring wear from the major brand ‘Liyue Qixing’ sat in a box for you. Before setting your eyes on a more intricate looking box. Opening it to discover some of the most beautiful lingerie you had seen in a long time. Looking at the brand name ‘Scent of Spring’. You didn’t recognize it, but you were quite enamored with the pieces inside.

Forgoing opening any more packages you quickly gathered the items in the box and wandered off to the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend. Selecting a ivory and gold silk longline balconette bra, with matching thong, and harness. The gold tulle flowers that patterned the silk and lace were soft and delicate under your fingers. You couldn’t go a second longer without wearing the beautiful set. Quickly stripping off the clothes you were wearing and slipping on the lingerie. Loving the feel of the soft lace and silk against your skin. Staring at yourself in the mirror.

‘This lingerie had to be designed by some deity who knew Zhongli’s taste.’ You thought to yourself as you admired the way the balconette bra exposed half of your breast and how the thong straps cut into the flesh of your hip in a sexy way, giving your body a more defined silhouette.

A light bulb went off in your head, walking over to grab your phone and opening the camera app, returning back to the mirror. Posing yourself quite provocative as you snapped several photos, dropping to your knees and taking a few more photos, before flipping through them. A coy smile playing on your lips as you went to call Zhongli.

Zhongli was startled by the sound of his phone ringing on his desk, glancing down to see your contact photo, a smile immediately forming on his face, he swiped to answer.

“Hello (name), is everything alright my dear?” Zhongli greeted as he turned from the documents in front of him and leaned back in his chair. You seldom ever called him when you knew he was going to be in the office all day, preferring to email him if you needed anything so he assumed this must have been important.

“Everything is fine, just calling to see what you were up to.” You greeted over the phone. Zhongli let out a small sigh, relieved that nothing was wrong.

“I’m just preparing for a meeting with Fatui Industries in a little bit.” Zhongli started, glancing at the clock to check the time. “What are you doing today my dear.” He asked, knowing you didn’t have much on your schedule today.

“Well I was going through some packages I received, you know the PR kind. It was mostly clothes from some nice designers.” You hummed, he could hear you twirling your hair in your fingers as you spoke.

“Oh really? Hopefully they sent things that are your style.”

“That’s why I was calling actually. There was this one package, the clothes are really nice. But I think they’re more to your taste, and I wanted to get your opinion on them.” You confessed.

“Of course, I can do that when I get home for you if you would like.” Zhongli replied, glancing at the clock noting that he had about 27 minutes until his meeting. “I should be done with work after I meet with Signora and Childe.”

“I’m actually sending you a couple photos right now, please check your email and tell me what you think.” He couldn’t put his finger on it, but you seemed awfully excited about all of this but he complied with your request.

“Of course, one moment.” Opening his email, quickly finding the one from you at the top and opening it, his eyes widening in realization as he enlarged one of several photos in the email. His voice catching in his throat as he examined it.

“Are the clothes to your liking, sir.” You cooed from the other end of the phone, knowing very well they were in fact to his liking.

“Ms. (Name)..” Zhongli growled quietly.

“Yes sir?” You asked innocently, Zhongli aware of the game you were playing, but nevertheless here he was clicking on the next photo, feeling his pants grow tighter as he continued to view the photos. The one of you on your knees sending more blood rushing to his already aching erection.

“Are you being a good girl right now?”

“I’m always a good girl Sir.”

“Are you? You don’t look to be acting like a good girl in these photos.”

“Then should I send you some more photos so you make sure I’m being good?” He could feel himself getting riled up just by the implications of what was being said.

“Well… I’ve already sent them so hopefully you don’t mind.”

Not needing to be told twice Zhongli refreshed his email inbox to find a new message. Opening it to discover new attachments. Slowly he clicked the first picture. Finding you not in front of the mirror in the bedroom anymore, but now on the black sateen sheets of the bed the two of you shared. Angling the camera in a way to show how you would look if he had you pinned down. You looked ravishing, from the way you let your cleavage spill out exposing your nipples, to the way you spread your legs.

The next photo your hand was on one of your breast cupping and pinching the nipple. The next photo was taken lower, your hand was now in your panties clearly teasing yourself. And the final attachment was a video, it was no more than 15 seconds, but in those 15 seconds you show yourself pumping your fingers in and out of your pussy, before dragging your fingers out of yourself and licking the wet slick off your digits. Zhongli was taking deep breaths as he watched. His eyes following your every movement.

“Sir…” You moaned, lust lacing every syllable. “Do you think I look like a good girl in those photos?”

Zhongli couldn’t say anything for a moment. Letting the video replay itself over and over, his eyes finding new things to focus on each time it replayed. From the way your plump lips wrapped around your fingers or the way you quivered when you plunged your two digits into yourself. He just wanted to see you do more.

“When did being a good girl equate to acting like quite the little slut? Surely I’ve taught you better than that.” Zhongli replied firmly, as he adjusted the way he was sitting to accommodate his throbbing cock.

“This is what you’ve taught me…” the breathiness of your voice letting him know you were in fact still touching yourself as you replied.

“I don’t recall teaching you to send provocative photos to me while I’m at work.” He glanced at the clock again, 16 minutes until the meeting. Fuck.

“Did they make you hard?” You asked suddenly.

He was not a liar, so he wouldn’t lie to you. “Yes they did…”

“Did they make you want to come home and stuff your big. thick. cock inside of me.” The punctionaction of your words were breaking him down.

“Yes they did…”

“Master are you going to come home so I can show you how much of a good girl I am, when I’m milking your cock.”

“My Lily… I-” Zhongli wasn’t used to you being this forward with him.

“I need you to come home and fuck me now. Because if you don’t pump me full of your cum I might go crazy.” You whined your voice working wonders on his resolve. “Please… Please come home and breed me sir.”

One final weak glance at his clock showed he had 9 minutes before they would arrive.

You moaned again calling his name out through the phone, the thread holding his composure together snapping.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I get home do you understand.” Zhongli growled into the phone, quickly on his feet, grabbing his bag and making his way to the door of his office. “Do you understand?”

“Yes sir..!” You exclaimed.

“I hope you understand you won’t be walking for the next few days my Little Lily.” He warned before leaving the safety of his private office.

“Yes yes! Hurry please.”

“I am.” Quickly saying goodbye and hanging the phone up with you, while walking towards two approaching figures.

“Mr. Zhongli goo-” Signora began, reaching her hand out to greet him, but he didn’t meet it.

“My apologies, there seems to be an emergency at home, can you meet with my assistant to reschedule.” Zhongli haphazardly explained. “Again my deepest apologies.” He finished, turning on his heel and b lining it to the exit. Letting the receptionist know that he was leaving and scrambling for the parking garage.

“What do you think his emergency was?” Signora stood bewildered where Zhongli had left her and Childe.

“Do you think everything is alright?

Childe seemed to be having the best laugh of his life as his colleague pondered the obvious.

“Trust me everything’s fine.” Childe said in between laughs. “We should probably reschedule for Monday, he’ll probably need the whole weekend off.”

“This is why I hate partnering with you, you’re too vague sometimes.”

#zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli x you #modern au! genshin impact #smut #imagine a big bed of black and gold sheets #a bed designed for a god #that's the bed i wanna be spread out on for zhongli #cakey cries #genshin impact x reader #rex lapis x reader #morax x reader #genshin x reader

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pillage-and-lute · 3 years

Note

(For next time you’re looking for prompts) I really like your writing, and when I thought of this I wondered what you’d do with it: Geralt and Jaskier are together, but agree to pretend not to be for their next stop. Maybe one of them wants to win an old bet, or Jaskier’s not 100% sure his betrothal to a local noble has been officially dissolved, whatever, (not homophobia), fluff and high jinx ensue. Anyway I hope something unexpectedly nice happens to you today.

Hi Dahliavandare! Thanks for the blessing in my inbox 🥰

This ran away from me, tons of backstory about Jaskier’s family. Just, way too much.

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“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier said hesitantly. “I have an errand we need to run, and I’m not sure you’ll like it.”

Geralt hummed noncommittally. They were resting at their camp outside of Hagge and the warm summer air and the feeling of Jaskier curled against him had lulled him into a warm, fuzzy stupor.

“You see,” Jaskier continued, fiddling with the buttons at his cuffs. “I’m a noble, and you know that of course.” He laughed awkwardly. “And I’ve been lucky enough to pawn most of those responsibilities off onto my much savvier sister, but there are certain niceties that landed families observe that--”

“Spit it out,” Geralt grumbled, although not bad naturedly.

“I’m betrothed,” Jaskier said. “And we need to go to Gwendeith to break it off.”

Geralt turned to look at his beloved. “You’re engaged?”

“Betrothed!” Jaskier yelped, then saw Geralt’s expression. “Oh, dear heart, there’s a slight difference in meaning, especially to nobles. Engaged implies an intent to marry--”

“And betrothed doesn’t?”

“Well, sort of, but I’ve been betrothed practically since I was born, engaged would imply I’m sort of planning the wedding. It’s a contract, a social contract. My family and my betrothed’s are pretty minor nobles, so really it’s just a way of saying ‘maybe someday our kids could marry’. It isn’t the hard and fast marriage it might be if I were, say, a prince.”

“Then why do it?” Geralt asked. Most of the time he was happy to understand as little of the lives of the gentry as possible, but Jaskier was important.

“Honestly,” Jaskier sighed. “I think Papa arranged it because he cared for me, Mama too.”

“It takes away your choice,” Geralt began.

“It doesn’t. A betrothal like mine and... Iliana, that’s her name, only met her twice, it’s sort of social insurance. Especially for her, but for me as well. Nobles are supposed to marry, so, if at some point neither of us had found love we could marry one another. For Iliana there’s the security of having a husband, although from what I’ve heard she can handle herself fine, and for me its assurance of heirs if that sort of thing concerned me, and companionship for us both.”

It sounded...mostly sort of logical to Geralt.

“But I love you,” Jaskier said. “And I don’t want to be betrothed to anyone because I love you and, someday, whenever you get over you allergy to the concept of commitment, I’m going to put a ring on you.”

Geralt hummed gruffly but said nothing. There was a slim golden band hidden away in his bags and he be damned if Jaskier got to propose first.

“I will. Anyway, I need to tell Iliana. I’m sure she won’t mind. I met her once when I was seven and again when I was nineteen.”

“Nineteen, when?” Geralt asked. Most of Jaskier’s nineteenth year had been spent at Geralt’s side. Most of every year after that too.

“Just before I met you. I had travelled east to meet her originally, and was going back west when we met.”

“Tell me about her?”

“Illiana? Oh, well, she told me that she was fine leaving the betrothal in place because it’s standard, but that she doesn’t care for men in that way so she’d never give me heirs and would have my balls nailed above her door if I ever told her she had to.”

“Sounds like she’d get along with Yen.”

“I fear they’d take over the world,” Jaskier said. “Anyway, I told her no worries since, honestly, heirs just aren’t important to me. Then we agreed that when either of us found love we’d break the betrothal and that would be that.”

“Hmmm.”

“No, Geralt, tell me what that means. Is that a ‘okay, let’s go to Gwendeith’ hum? A ‘I’m angry that you’re betrothed’ hum?”

Geralt shifted to poke the fire. “It’s a ‘I think there’s more you need to tell me’ hum.”

“Ah,” Jaskier rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s the thing. We have to go in person because a letter would be rude, but also...we have to pretend not to be together, while we’re in Gwedeith.”

“Why?”

“It’s politics, dear heart. It would be shaming to Iliana, socially. Personally, I don’t think she’d care, but it’s a courtesy thing.”

“I don’t do a lot of lovey stuff anyway,” Geralt said.

“You think you don’t,” Jaskier said. He began to unroll their bedroll.

“What do you mean, Jaskier?”

Jaskier turned to him, smiling indulgently and gilded in the firelight. “Our lives have molded around one another, my love. When I stand beside you your hand goes to my back or my shoulder. You order dinner for me because you know just what food I like. When I’m tired you don’t have to ask what’s wrong, you just lift me onto Roach behind you.”

Geralt hadn’t even realized he did, but he knew it was true. Jaskier leaned over and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s slightly furrowed brow.

“When my boots are wearing thin you buy me new ones before I even notice. When I’m cold you give me your cloak. If I fall asleep with my head on your shoulder you’d rather sit like that all night than disturb me.”

Geralt shrugged awkwardly. “You buy me beeswax,” he said. It seemed a fair retort. Jaskier bought him beeswax to put in his ears when cities or sometimes monsters were too loud for Geralt’s senses. “You only buy light scents, even though I know you like bolder perfumes.”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, taking one of Geralt’s large, scarred hands. “We love eachother very much, and it’s obvious to people who care to look.”

“That could be dangerous,” Geralt began, his head spiralling towards worry for Jaskier’s safety, but Jaskier cut him off.

“No, dear heart. It’s obvious to those who care to look. The sort of people who would hurt me for loving you, well, most of them think you can’t love, so they don’t look for love, and they don’t see.”

Geralt sat back. People saw what they expected to see, it was true.

“We’ll travel to Gwendeith,” he said. “And unbetroth you.”

Jaskier kissed him and his lips tasted like the jerky they’d eaten for supper.

-- -- -- -- -- --

The trip to Gwendeith was long. It was at the very edge of any map, past Posada to the east, tucked into the Blue mountains. They traveled along the Dyfne river, taking the occasional contract but making good time. This far from anything, there were few people to be troubled by monsters.

They stopped in Posada one night, eating dinner in the corner of a familiar tavern. This time, however, Jaskier was much better received and the bread ended up on the table rather than down his trousers.

Past Posada, and almost to the end of the Dyfne river, Geralt asked, “Why did your parents pick Iliana? How did they know of her?” Lettenhove was entirely the other side of the continent, a tiny island off the coast of Poviss with two villages and a couple flocks of sheep.

Geralt only knew of it from Jaskier’s descriptions, which were mostly stories of the ice cold sea and rocky cliffs. He tended toward calling it ‘idyllic’ and ‘picturesque’ altough occassionally ‘the arse end of the world’ and ‘colder than an ice giant’s ballsack.’ The first time Geralt had taken Jaskier to Kaer Morhen he’d feared for his bard’s safety in the cold of the mountains, but Jaskier hadn’t even blinked an eye, merely bundling up in a hugely wooly cloak and mittens.

“Ah, well,” Jaskier said. “Long story, but Papa was in Temeria, see, since nothing ever happens in Lettenhove, because we have more people than sheep, he get’s sent on diplomatic missions a lot. He’s good at it, and he can be spared. He loves it too, even though he’s sort of retired he still does them. Takes Ma, calls the trips his little “sunshine vacations”.

“You get your personality from your father, then?” Geralt asked. Jaskier didn’t talk about his family much, and Geralt got the sense that, rather than this being because they were horrible, Jaskier simply missed them too much.

“Definitely. Ma’s lovely, and brilliant with just everything to do with her hands, but she’s not good with people. I got her looks, though.”

“I should thank her, then,” Geralt said, smiling.

Jaskier chuckled. “Yes, she’s the reason for the long lives, too, fantastic story.”

“Finish the one about your father and Gwendeith first.”

“Right, so Papa was in Temeria, and so was Iliana’s father, sort of the mayor of Gwendeith, as I understand, although not back then. He’d gotten robbed, though, and Papa had won a horse and quite a lot of gold in a card game. It might have been Gwent, I can’t remember. If you ever meet Papa you should ask him. Anyway, he gave the extra horse and gold to Iliana’s father.”

“So your betrothal was a debt?”

“Goodness, no. This was years before I was born, Papa hadn’t even met Ma yet. No, they struck up a friendship, because when Iliana’s father got home he had a mage send a message to Papa to thank him and they struck up a friendship.”

“Sending messages by mage? That’s expensive for a penpal.”

“Ah well, that actually ties in to the story about Ma. Ma’s got magic, just a little, she’s a hedge witch of a sort. The issue is, hedge witches mostly use plants, and Ma couldn’t grow grass, so she mostly works with wood. Anyway, she has a friend, her very best friend, is a mage. They grew up together, and my Auntie Szarlotta sent my Papa’s first few messages back to Iliana’s father.”

Geralt smiled atop Roach. Jaskier’s storytelling pace was as familiar as Roach’s saddle, and it was calming in a way.

“So, Auntie was sending Papa’s message when Ma came in to visit. That’s how she met Papa, because she’d only just moved to Lettenhove. Auntie says it was love at first sight, but Papa insists that Ma turned up her nose and ignored him for months.”

“Which one is it?”

“Knowing Ma, probably both. She’s a little like you, so the second she realized she liked Papa she ignored him so she wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

Geralt huffed good-naturedly.

“Anyway, Auntie Szarlotta agreed to send Papa’s messages for free, and she even included a way for Iliana’s father to send them back, so long as he wrote his response on the back of the same paper. She always timed it though, so that Ma was over when Papa was there. And I guess the rest is history.”

“Except the immortality.”

“Right, well, Ma got really sick when she was pregnant with my sister, I was little so I barely remember but Papa was so worried, and Ma looked really pale. Well, Auntie got really worried, freaked out a little, and she found all these old spells to try to make Ma well again. I remeber the light, she was working in a room of the old lighthouse and I could see the light of her spells from my window. Anyway, eventually she tries some on Ma, but they don’t work, and she just keeps trying.”

Geralt had an image of a frantic sorceress being watched by a young Jaskier through a crack in a door.

“But I suppose some of those old spells need a little time to work because nothing at all worked and then they all sort of worked at once. There was this big, bright light and then Ma was well, and she and Papa haven’t aged a day since then.”

Geralt glanced at his lover, who looked the same at fifty as he had at twenty. “And you don’t age? What about your sister?”

“Ksenia hasn’t aged either. She looks like Papa, just so you know, grey eyes, blonde hair. She’s got two kids, now, but I haven’t met them.”

“Do the kids age?”

“Right now they’re very young,” Jaskier said. “I didn’t stop aging until nineteen or twenty, so I suppose we’ll have to wait and see.”

“How do you know she has kids?”

“Oh, well, Auntie Szarlotta sends letters to me, but we travel and it’s hard to send them right to me, so I just pick them up at Oxenfurt.”

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. He needed to go to Lettenhove. Jaskier had met his sort-of-family, he should meet Jaskier’s.

“I’d love to go see them...” Jaskier said, wistfully.

“Who?”

“My niece and nephew, they’re almost two and three years old now.”

Geralt picked Jaskier up by the collar of his doublet and placed him onto the back of Roach.

“We’ll spend the winter in Lettenhove this year,” he said as Jaskier wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist.

“Really?”

“Hmmm.”

Geralt needed to ask Jaskier’s father for his hand in marriage, anyway.

-- -- -- -- -- --

They made it to Gwendeith just after mid summer, riding into the little town at noon. Despite the season, the little mountain valley was shaded and cool. Jaskier shivered slightly and Geralt had to resist the urge to pull his cloak from his pack. From that point forth, they weren’t supposed to be in love.

Fuck.

They had to request a meeting with the mayor, which didn’t surprise Geralt. In a town such as this, logging and mining were the main industries. Trading for food to last over the winter began early and was of the utmost importance. That left Geralt and Jaskier, unfortunately, sitting with a man who introduced himself as Sir Boris.

Apparently he was a retired knight who acted as a sort of captain of the guard, except there wasn’t much of a guard. His wife Lady Olenka joined them and the two of them talked about their grandchildren until Geralt could feel his eyes rolling back in his head.

At any other time, Jaskier would have placed one gentle hand on his wrist, which would have fortified Geralt, but they couldn’t.

“But you’re here for Iliana,” Sir Boris was saying. “Dreadfully sorry you can’t see her today, I’m afraid there’s been an issue with the lumber trade to sort out. You’ll just have to have my darling Lenka and I as company until that’s done.”

He sent a huge wink to his wife, a slim, elegant woman, who chuckled and playfully hit him on the shoulder, to which Sir Boris pretended to be wounded before throwing back his head and laughing hugely. Everything the old knight did was huge, he was a large man with a round, red face and large belly and a laugh that could shake walls.

“It’s no trouble,” Jaskier said. “I’m sure preparing for winter is a year round project here.”

“Oh of course,” Lady Olenka said. “But once it’s here we can all relax, and spend time with family.” She leaned forward as if imparting a delightful secret and said in a stage-whisper, “Boris has been our town’s Father Winter for the last four years.”

Jaskier made impressed ‘ooh’ noises and Geralt tried to at least look like he understood that.

Boris laughed again. “It’s this lot,” he said, slapping his round stomach. “Better than some old geezer with a pillow down his shirt, eh?”

Geralt hummed in agreement.

“And you must make a lovely Mother Winter, Lady Olenka,” Jaskier said politely.

She smiled, lines crinkling around her eyes as if drawing a road map. “It’s not as important as Father Winter, of course, but I rather pride myself that I plan a very good Midwinter festival.” Geralt got the sense that behind the modesty she was quite proud, and, he suspected, with good reason.

“But, you must tell me,” she said, modestly changing the subject. “Is there to be a missus Pankratz, now that you’ve come to see Lady Iliana?”

“I am a man in love,” Jaskier said. “And I am hopeful that an engagement will come soon, yes.”

“Oh dearie that’s just lovely,” Lady Olenka said, patting Jaskier’s cheek. “And you’re such a nice boy too, little young looking to be betrothed to our Lady Iliana anyway, although she’s a very dear woman.”

“We just love her,” Sir Boris said. “She’s a great mayor, not keen on marriage, but nobody minds, she just seems to have adopted the whole town as family.”

Lady Olenka patted her husband’s broad shoulder. “It was smart of you not to bring your love here, though. There’s some nobles here from Lyria, that’s who she’s been trading with, and I think they’d like any excuse to disparage here.” She lowered her voice again. “You know how those lot are about having women in charge.”

“I can’t relate,” Sir Boris laughed. “Lenka’s the ruler in our house.” That got a laugh because it had to, and because Sir Boris’s laugh was surprisingly infectious.

“Good on you bringing a bodyguard too,” he said once the laughter had abated. He slapped Geralt companionably on the back, which was like being hit by a friendly battering ram. “Witcher too, don’t get many up here, but I bet you’re the safest man in a hundred miles.”

“Oh, dear, don’t you know?” Lady Olenka said. “Lord Julian here is a bard as well, he goes by Jaskier and sings all about witchers.”

“Really?” Sir Boris said, looking at Jaskier. “Blimey, imagine that. Good on you, finding a niche in the market.”

Geralt’s ears were beginning to ache. Friendly though Sir Boris might be, he didn’t seem to have a volume level below ‘deafening’. He was tired and overwrought and he just wanted to cuddle up with Jaskier in a bed. It wasn’t even suppertime, though.

They sat through another hour of hearing about Boris and Olenka’s eighteen grandchildren.

“And three great-grandchildren,” Boris added proudly.

Geralt was thankful Jaskier could carry the conversation. He longed for a kiss, though. Now that he knew he couldn’t have one, his lips fairly ached for one.

Supper was a large affair, with one of Boris and Olenka’s children’s family over for dinner as well. Geralt was seated across from Jaskier between two small children who, apparently, needed to be separated at dinertimes to prevent bickering. They contented themselves instead by asking Geralt every question they could think of, often making him wrack his brain for child appropriate answers.

It wasn’t just witchering questions, either. He answered such questions as “Why is the sky blue?” (Because it’s Melitele’s favorite color). Immediately before answering “How big are dragon scales?” (The small ones are like pebbles and the big ones are like shields.)

Jaskier smiled at him over his bowl of stew, eyes sparkling. Geralt loved children, and Jaskier loved seeing them adore Geralt.

“So, Lord Julian,” Boris and Olenka’s daughter began. “Your lady love, tell us about her?” She smiled Lady Olenka’s warm smile and Jaskier did a good show of seeming bashful.

“My love is unlike any other,” he began. “And if you’ll pardon my saying so, I’m a poet, and so must wax poetic.”

“Wouldn’t settle for anything less, lad!” Boris bellowed cheefully.

“My darling has fair hair, like moonlight,” Jaskier said, and the table oohed appreciatively. Geralt felt his ears get hot.

“And eyes like summer,” the bard continued. “I could get lost in them. No eyes could compare.” Geralt kicked him under the table, but Olenka was sighing sympathetically.

“But of course,” Jaskier said slyly, my heart is best held by my love’s lips.”

Boris chuckled knowingly. “I’ll bet it is, my boy,” he said, winking. Olenka slapped his arm, but she was smiling. Geralt felt hot.

“I’m afraid, however that my lover is quite modest, and won’t appreciate me extolling too many virtues,” Jaskier finished. “So I must finish with, I love them very much, and it is for them alone that my heart beats.”

Therewith leaving every person at the table (those above the age of twelve, at least) with misty eyes, Jaskier helped Lady Olenka clean up supper. Geralt helped put the dishes away.

After dinner they were led back to the mayor’s house. “I’m afraid the negotiations don’t seem to be finished,” Lady Olenka said. “I had hoped they would be quick, but it seems not. If the issue wasn’t resolved today, I wouldn’t bet on them being resolved too early tomorrow, either. You two don’t have pressing business elsewhere?”

“No, my lady,” Jaskier said, although if they lingered too long they wouldn’t make it to Lettenhove for the winter, as it was, it would be close.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to see you soon,” the lady said. “Here’s your room, and Master Witcher, your room is just at the far end of the hall.”

She said goodnight and Geralt hoped she couldn’t see the slump of his shoulders.

Separate rooms.

Jaskier smiled ruefully at him and they parted for the night. Geralt’s bed was large and comfortable, with clean linens and feather pillows, but he barely got a wink of sleep.

-- -- -- -- -- --

The next morning found Jaskier and Geralt breakfasting in the tavern, owned, apparently, by another of Boris and Olenka’s grown children.

“Did you sleep well?” Jaskier whispered over a plate of sausage and eggs.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted.

“I couldn’t sleep a wink,” Jaskier said. “Want my last piece of bacon? I’m stuffed.”

Geralt took it gratefully, slipping Jaskier his fried slice as a trade. No matter how Jaskier protested that he was stuffed, he always had room for a fried slice.”

“Terrible woman,” said a nasal voice at the next table. “Just impossible to do business with.”

“I agree, overemotional, you know how they get,” agreed another voice. Jaskier made eye contact with Geralt. The accent was Lyrian.

“Not even married,” said the first speaker. “What a disgrace. If my daughter got to her age without children I’d just die of shame.”

Geralt pitied his daughter.

“Oh of course,” said the second man. “Attractive, though, for an old maid.”

The first man snickered cruelly. “Thinking a little wooing might soften her up?”

“It always does, women like that, they’re just angry because they haven’t found a man.”

“Won’t your wife mind?”

“Are you going to tell her?” Both men laughed unpleasantly.

A serving girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, came around the tables, presumably one of Sir Boris’ many granddaughters. She took their plates onto a tray and smiled when Jaskier slipped a few coins onto the tray as a tip.

At the next table one of the Lyrian’s snapped their fingers impatiently. The girl rolled her eyes. Geralt was pleased to see that, although she served him professionally, as she walked away she ‘accidentally’ tread on his foot.

“What pathetic pieces of shit, the pair of them,” Jaskier said as they stepped out into the sunlight.

“Hmmm,” Geralt agreed. Then he looked around quickly and pulled Jaskier into an alleyway, urging the bard deeper into the shadows.

“What? Geralt di-”

Geralt smushed his lips gracelessly to Jaskier’s, crowding him up against the wall. Jaskier’s hair between his fingers was so familiar and comforting, as was the little sigh Jaskier let out.

They pulled apart and Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskier’s. “That’ll tide me over for a while,” he whispered. Jaskier smiled.

“Are you master Julian?”

The pair sprang apart, looking in alarm at the red headed boy at the far end of the alley.

“Yes...?” Jaskier said.

“Only, Pa said to come find you, and he said you’d be with a big man dressed all in black.”

“And you found us here?” Jaskier asked.

“Didn’t know you’d be here, did I?” Said the boy, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets. “It’s the shortcut through to the tavern, but then, I figured he’s the only big man in black around.”

Geralt inclined his head, feeling his ears go hot.

“Lady Iliana has time to see you now,” the boy continued, oblivious to the awkwardness.

“By all means...lead the way,” said Jaskier.

They were led out of the alley and back to the mayor’s house by the messenger boy.

“Out of curiosity,” Jaskier asked. “Is your grandad Sir Boris?”

“Yeah, that’s him,” said the lad. “He made me a toy sword for my tenth birthday too.” He pointed proudly to the wooden sword tied at his hip with some string.

“It makes you look a proper hero,” Jaskier said. Then he pulled out his coin purse. “A copper for bringing us the message and...another to not tell anyone what you saw.”

The boy looked between the two of them shrewdly.

“Not even my best friend? I tell Mikhail everything.”

“Not until Geralt and I have left.”

“Three coppers total,” the boy said promptly. Jaskier handed them over good naturedly and the boy flashed a gap toothed grin before taking off.

Geralt and Jaskier shrugged at each other, before finding their way to the main room of the mayor’s house. A broad shouldered woman of about fifty poked her head out of a door.

“Julian?”

Geralt and Jaskier went inside.

“You look well,” Iliana said, sitting behind a large desk and gesturing to a couple chairs. “You havent’ aged a day.”

“And you look as lovely as I remember,” Jaskier said.

“Flirt. Come to ask me for heirs?”

Jaskier shuddered. “No, my lady. I remember your threat well. I think you know why I’m here.”

The two Lyrians barged through the door.

“Did I ask you to enter?” Iliana said, coldly. Geralt felt an unusual curl of fear set up in his stomach, she was a distinctly fearsome woman.

“Well,” said the first Lyrian.

“You were so beautiful, I couldn’t wait on seeing you again,” said the second, slimily.

“Oh I say!,” Iliana said, standing. She placed her hand over her chest in a delicately offended way, which was ill suited to her. “You sir are too bold, and in front of my betrothed too!”

The Lyrians looked, panicked, at the people sat in the chairs. As Geralt was seated in the chair nearest the door, and therefore nearest them, they came to the wrong conclusion. The blood drained from both their faces.

“What an insult!” Iliana continued. “You should be ashamed! What a lack of diplomacy!”

Beside Geralt, Jaskier snickered. She was laying it on a little thick.

“Why,” she continued. “I ought to write to your king! I’ve never been so insulted. And I’m sure my beloved will want to sort out this insult too.” She fluttered her lashes at Geralt.

Geralt nearly jumped out of his seat, but thankfully his brain caught up. He stood, growling a little theatrically and placed one hand on the hilt of his steel sword.

“Our apologies my lady,” the first man said hurriedly.

“Our mistake, we’ll just--” they dissappeared out the door.

“What a fearsome couple,” Geralt heard whispered as the door swung shut.

Iliana sighed satisfactedly and kicked her feet up on her desk. “It seems I should thank you,” she said. “That is going to make negotiations much easier.”

“I’m sure you always get good deals,” Jaskier said.

“Yes. I get the deals I want.”

“You know why I’m here,” Jaskier said.

“Yes.”

“Do you agree?”

“To disolve the betrothal? Of course. Never found a lover for myself so I never bothered but, well, I just don’t do romance.”

“Some people don’t,” Geralt said, thinking of Eskel.”

“Indeed,” Iliana said, smiling warmly at him. “Not all of us have a soulmate to sing us songs.” She laughed at their surprised faces.

“Oh you fooled them, and you may have fooled Boris and Olenka, but I’ve heard your songs, Julian. It’s written right into everything you do.”

She began rummaging in one of the drawers in the desk. “I don’t mind, of course. So few people know we’re actually betrothed...there it is.” She pulled out an old piece of paper. “I’ll just rip it up if that’s fine by you. You’ll have to do the same to yours of course.”

“We’re going to Lettenhove this winter,” Jaskier said. “I’ll do it as soon as I find it.”

Iliana smiled again. “Father always did say that your dad had a horrible filing system.”

“He filed all his papers on the floor, yes, although I imagine my sister is neater.”

Iliana tore the paper in half without ceremony and placed the contract in the waste paper bin. “Lettenhove is very far away, Julian, will you get there in time?”

Jaskier glanced at Geralt.

“I don’t know,” Geralt said.

“No matter,” said Iliana. She began writing something on a new sheet of paper. “Our logging teams float lumber all down the Dyfne and Pontar rivers. Show this to the dockmaster at the tip of the Dyfne and our riverboat captains can get you to Novigrad.”

She pulled out another sheet of paper. “Once you’re in Novigrad, show this to the harbormaster and he’ll get you to Lettenhove.” She looked at their shocked faces and smiled. “Our lumber is the best, and it’s used in everything, including ships. I’m willing to cash in a favor in order to get rid of a useless betrothal.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Jaskier said bowing deeply. “I’ll have my Aunt Szarlotta send a message once our betrothal is fully extant.”

Iliana stood and shook his hand. “I’d appreciate that.”

“Our fathers were penpals,” Jaskier said. “Perhaps we should keep up the tradition?”

The mayor inclined her head. “I’d like that. I may be too busy to write often.”

Jaskier waved a hand. “I can only pick up messages when I pass through Oxenfurt, but I like to make friends with powerful people.”

The two of them shared a smile.

“Not to rush you out my door,” Iliana said. “But I do have a lot to do, winter comes early up here, and I know it does as well in Lettenhove. even with my help, you two should leave soon.”

Geralt and Jaskier left that afternoon, just after a hearty meal at the tavern.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Across the continent and some weeks later, Jaskier and Geralt stepped onto the docks in Novigrad.

“I don’t think Roach liked the river boats,” Jaskier said as Geralt led her off. Roach whinnied and shook her mane emphatically.

“Sorry, girl,” Geralt said. “You’ll have another long boat journey, and this time I doubt we’ll stop so you can run about on land.”

“Nah,” Jaskier said, as they walked toward a tavern for supper. “Boats from Novigrad to Lettenhove stop around the coast on the way, she’ll get plenty of exercise. It’s something to do with the currents.”

He petted Roach’s muzzle softly as they stabled her at the inn beside the tavern and Geralt felt his heart go out to his bard. Jaskier cared so much for Roach. Geralt thought again of the gold band in his pack.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s eat.”

-- -- -- -- -- --

Slightly more than a month later, after a slow, coastal boat journey, and then another between Inis Porhoest and Lettenhove, Geralt, Jaskier, and their faithful horse, stepped off the final boat.

“Welcome home, Master Julian,” said a fisherman on the dock.

“Does everyone here know you?” Geralt asked.

“Pretty much, there’s only about three hundred people here.”

News spread fast among three hundred people and Jaskier and Geralt were greeted enthusiastically at the door to the very small castle. A blonde woman who could only be Ksenia, Jaskier’s sister, flung her arms around him, and withing a moment Geralt was being gathered into the hug by a slightly older looking couple.

“Julek,” said the blonde man, pulling back. “My boy, you’re home, and you brought this stunning man, wow, what a looker.”

“Papa, don’t be embarrassing,” Jaskier said. Geralt flushed clear to the roots of his hair. Apparently when Jaskier said he had his father’s personality he meant all of his father’s personality.

They had dinner as a family, including Jaskier’s niece and nephew, Cecylia and Prot. They had questions for Geralt, and he was grateful for the practice he’d had in Gwendeith. It was an enjoyable meal over all, and afterward Jaskier was distracted by his Aunt Szarlotta while Geralt slipped away to ask Mr. Pankratz a very important question.

The two of them returned to the main hall to see Jaskier pretending to be a dragon, while Cecylia and Prot bravely fought him with butterknives, but he straightened up when he saw the look on Geralt’s face.

Geralt took his hand and Jaskier squeezed it three times, it was their code, asking if Geralt needed to go somewhere that wasn’t so hard on his senses. Geralt smiled and shook his head, swallowing nervously around the lump in his throat.

He got down on one knee and pulled out the gold band. “I’m...I’m not good with words.” Geralt swallowed again, wishing he could borrow Jaskier’s eloquence for five minutes or so. “Marry me?”

The words were barely out from his mouth before Jaskier was tackling him to the ground, pressing kisses all over his face.

“Oh Geralt!” he said. “Wait--”

Jaskier looked up at his mother, who smiled and was handed a paper by his Aunt Szarlotta. Mrs. Pankratz ripped the betrothal contract in half.

“Yes,” Jaskier said, laughing. “I will marry you!”

Then they kissed on the chilly stone floor.

-- -- -- -- -- --

Dear Lady Iliana, Mayor of Gwendeith

The former contract has been voided.

Szarlotta of Lettenhove

P.S. Geralt and Jaskier are engaged and send their love.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Holy Cow. 5603 words. I...I don’t even know what to say. I hope you like it.

#the witcher #geraskier #reverse fake dating #fluff #geralt #jaskier #ask box answers

524 notes · View notes

ghost-party · 3 years

Note

hi~ o/ for your follower event, I'd like to request *covers Gojo's eyes* Sukuna on either Office Coworkers, or Villains prompt; whichever tickles your fancy more. (look at what your AU!Sukuna has done to me, requesting him instead of Gojo... I am going to go put myself in time out now). Grats on 200 again ♥ and thanks for doing something for us on it! ♥ ♥

Aww, thanks for the request! Your secret is safe with me. 😂🤐 Gojo never has to know!

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, brief mention of losing parents/family, some spicy content A/N: Sukuna and the reader work at a company that produces corporate events. (That was my last experience working in an office, so... 🤷🏼‍♀️)

• • •

Sukuna + Office Coworkers

It’s your first day at your new job, and you’re currently hiding in a bathroom stall, certain that one of your coworkers already hates you.

When you arrived that morning, your boss walked you over to your cubicle, with its dual monitors, already-worn-out swivel chair, and short walls. She waved at the man sitting on the opposite side, hunched over his laptop.

“Sukuna! I want you to meet Y/N.” As she rattled off bland introductions, you barely heard a word, focused instead on the sharp gaze now locked onto yours.

At first glance, he was handsome, with a lean build, strong jaw, and dusty pink hair that somehow suited him. You also noticed a few empty piercing holes in his ear lobes.

But that expression... Why did he look so annoyed? You hadn’t even said anything yet. Maybe he was in the middle of something important, you reasoned, repeating the same cheerful “nice to meet you” you had given everyone else... only to be met with a soft grunt.

And it only seemed to get worse as the day went on. While you were on the phone with IT, going through the process of setting up your database login, you looked up and found Sukuna staring at you over the top of your joined cubicles, his eyes slightly narrowed.

When you tried to print your new hire forms and the paper jammed, there he was, standing behind you with a bored look on his face, uttering a simple, “Move,” before popping open the front of the machine and quickly resolving the issue.

At lunchtime, you both ended up in the kitchen, just the two of you, him microwaving something and you half-heartedly poking at your salad. Before you could even attempt benign conversation, he punched a finger at the keypad, removed his meal, and strode away without even sparing you a glance.

You stood there, feeling painfully awkward, until you managed to finish eating and retreat to the bathroom to calm your nerves.

Maybe he’s just not a people person, you think, biting your lip as you finally emerge from the stall and face yourself in the mirror. But the least he could do is be nice, right? Geez... Does he treat all the new hires like this?

After a short mental pep talk, you nod at yourself and make your way back to your desk. As you sit down, you avoid eye contact altogether, instead directing your attention to your email inbox.

Nearly half an hour passes before Sukuna asks, “Do you drink?”

You blink up at him. “I’m sorry...?”

His head is resting on his hand as he stares at you. “Do you drink? We usually take newbies to the bar across the street on the first day.”

“Uh... Yeah. That sounds nice.”

He makes a noise of acknowledgement and looks away — until you ask, “Who’s ‘we’? Everyone?”

Sukuna shrugs. “Whoever wants to come, but it’s usually the office events committee. We organize that kind of stuff.”

“You’re on the events committee?” The idea of this man planning birthday parties and fun, team-building activities is honestly baffling.

He raises an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No offense, but you just... don’t seem like the type.”

“And what type do I seem like?”

Before you can think better of it, you blurt out, “Rude.” Panic quickly sets in as you watch his eyes widen. But then... he laughs. It’s a low chuckle, but even just seeing his stern mouth lift into a smile fills you with a strange sense of relief.

“You’re honest. I like it.” He leans back, crossing his arms behind his head. “Sorry if I’ve been a dick today. I’m a bartender on the weekends. Had to stay late last night and didn’t get much sleep.”

“Oh.”

“But that doesn’t mean I’m sunshine and rainbows on a good day,” he warns, sitting forward in his chair.

“Duly noted. It’s just nice to know you don’t hate me.”

“Yet.” He’s still smiling, but it’s a wicked, crooked thing that has your face heating up.

• • •

Over the next few months, as your division preps for events season, you spend more time working closely with Sukuna. You learn that there’s not a huge difference between him on a good day and him on a running-on-caffeine-and-no-sleep day. He doesn’t talk much in meetings, but his facial expressions say plenty — though you’ve learned that he sometimes looks annoyed when he’s really just... fine. It’s confusing, to say the least.

Along with his piercings, he has at least a few tattoos on his forearms. It’s hard to tell how many, since he keeps them covered while at work. But you noticed them while having dinner with the team one night. He sat beside you, sleeves rolled to his elbows, holding a frozen margarita as he argued with someone from sales about marketing list sizes. You think about the mental image more often than you care to admit.

You’ve collected small details about him. He’s been tending bar for almost eight years, mostly as a side gig. He has a bad temper, which is why he was drawn to a marketing position — not nearly as many phone calls and general human interactions as you have to deal with in event production. He lives with his younger brother, Yuuji, who’s enrolled at the local university. They’ve been on their own since Sukuna was seventeen.

“He’s a good kid,” he says. You two are taking a brief coffee break in the kitchen, leaning against opposite counters. “Decent grades, working part time... He even has a girlfriend.”

“Wow.” You sip your latte, wondering how to ask the question on your mind without being painfully direct. But what comes out instead is, “Do you have a girlfriend?” because apparently your brain hates you.

Sukuna shakes his head. “Finding someone who can put up with my shit? Easier said than done.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not that bad.”

He smirks at you. “Is that so?”

You shrug and turn around, busying yourself with pouring a refill as an excuse to hide your flustered expression. “I mean... You’re still pretty annoying.”

It’s only when you feel him standing behind you that you realize he’s moved. “Don’t mind me,” he murmurs, reaching above you to grab a plastic lid from the nearest cupboard, his chest just grazing your back. You can’t help but freeze, your heartbeat erratic as you watch his shirt sleeve slide back, giving you a glimpse of the black bands of tattoos encircling his wrist.

When he pulls away, snapping the lid onto his paper cup, you glance at him over your shoulder and he meets your gaze with a knowing smile. “Annoying, huh? I’ll take it.” And with that, he walks away, leaving you scrambling to figure out what just happened.

• • •

“So... What do you think?” You swirl the ice in your glass and nudge Sukuna with your shoulder. “Your first live event.”

“I hate it.”

You’re both sitting at the hotel bar, having finally escaped the welcome reception upstairs. Although marketers don’t usually travel to your company’s events, a team member’s sudden illness left you in a lurch. Sukuna had begrudgingly agreed to accompany you to help with on-site prep and operations.

“Somehow I knew you’d say that.” You take a sip of your drink, already feeling pleasantly buzzed. “Is it the pushy attendees, the boring presentations, or the thrilling nightlife?” You gesture around at the exclusively 50+ clientele, along with the stuffily-ornate lobby full of classic artwork, antique carpeting, and gold everything.

“Yes.” You laugh, and when you look up at Sukuna, he’s staring at you thoughtfully. “But the company’s not too bad.”

“You should put that on the post-event survey.”

“Definitely ‘exceeds expectations.’” He drums his fingers against the bar top. “My room’s not bad, though.”

“‘Not bad’?” you tease. “I made sure you got the nicest one in the staff block.” When he looks surprised, you glance away. “It’s the least I could do — as a thank you for coming.”

Sukuna chuckles. “You’re always too nice to me. Might give me the wrong idea one of these days.”

Your grip tightens on your glass. “Or the right one...”

When you end up in his room, the both of you fumbling to unbutton and remove clothes as you kiss, his mouth soft yet insistent against yours, you tell yourself this is enough. As he pushes you down onto the bed, strong arms caging you in as he bites and sucks the tender skin between your neck and shoulder, you tell yourself this doesn’t need to be anything serious.

But afterwards, when his hard, lean body curls languidly around you, bare skin warm and smooth against your own, it’s hard not to imagine more — waking up beside him every morning, having breakfast together, straightening his usually-crooked tie while he pokes fun at you... You want all of it.

For now, though, you settle for his deep, steady breaths and the way he sleepily pulls you closer, arms tight around you.

• • •

When you wake up the next morning, Sukuna is propped up beside you, dark eyes unreadable.

“Watching me sleep?” you ask, voice slightly hoarse as you roll over to look at the clock beside the bed. Six o’clock. Plenty of time to get ready for another day of work.

“Creepy, I know.” His tone is flat, but he looks gentler than usual, with his bed head and placid expression. In the early morning light, you can see the full extent of his tattoos, bold, wide lines that trace across his body. They suit him, but you can’t put your finger on why.

“Look, can we... talk? About last night?”

You stiffen, mentally preparing yourself for what comes next.

“This was fun, but we’re better off as friends.” “We can do this again, but I’m not interested in anything serious.” “This was a mistake. Let’s pretend it never happened.”

But instead, what Sukuna says is, “This wasn’t just sex for me. I’m not really into that. Well, not anymore...” He runs a hand through his hair. “I, uh... Like you?” It comes out as a question, and his brow furrows, looking agitated. “I’m fucking this up.”

He must not expect your laugh, because his eyes widen at the sound. But you’re just so relieved. “I like you, too, dumbass.”

“Dumbass?” He playfully shoves at you. “So romantic.”

“What, you’re gonna change your mind?”

His hand moves from your shoulder to your face, stroking your cheek. “Nah... I knew what I was getting into. But the romantic thing... I think I can fix that.”

“Oh yeah?”

He grins. “You. Me. The huge, fancy bathtub. Room service. Does having mimosas with breakfast count as drinking on the job?”

You turn your head and press a kiss to his palm. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“You’re bad,” he growls, leaning over you, his breath warming your upturned lips. “When did that happen?”

“When I met this guy. He’s smart, sexy, kind of a jerk —” The rest of your words dissolve into a breathy gasp as he kisses you, teeth nipping against your bottom lip.

“Yeah, yeah... Less talking, hm? Now, how about that bath?”

#200 followers event #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #au sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader

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plant-flwrs · 3 years

Text

ruined parties // older brother draco (implied fred weasley)

masterlist!

a/n: i didn't know how to label this without it looking like an incest fic and I just want everyone to know it is most definitely not an incest fic and I don't know how to make it look better why is this my life

i just saw this in my inbox unreasonably late and I loved it sm so I wrote this little overprotective big brother draco fic :) I wanted to thank @gaycatlord-stuff for the message and the meme because I loved it sm and it rly got the juices in my sahara desert brain flowing.

summary: Draco is a relentlessly overprotective brother who ruins all romantic opportunities for you.

(2k)

-----

Sometimes, you wondered how different your life would be as a muggle. You wondered if your wealthy parents would have shoved you off to a nanny rather than house-elves; if you would have gone to a muggle boarding school and studied classic literature for an actual class and not just for fun, which Draco loved to remind you was one of the weirder things about you; if you would have learned to do laundry and wash the dishes and comb your hair without the brush levitating with a flick of your wand.

You wondered, most of all, how Draco would manage to beat up all the boys who showed interest in you as you grew up.

Draco went through his phases of the ways in which he would 'protect' you. He had really enjoyed the bat-bogey hex for a while in your first year. In second year and most of third year, he went with the safe option of the jelly-legs jinx. By fourth year he had matured to more advanced methods of transfiguration. He had managed to turn Michael Corner into a raccoon for at least a whole day when Michael had offered to carry your bag for you in the hall.

Fifth year was bad. He had been taken in by Snape, who offered him a number of tips and tricks in the world of dark magic. You insisted Draco didn't need dark magic, and he insisted that you mind your own business.

Draco was irritable and nearly unbearable by sixth year. He hovered over you like a vulture, sending glares to anyone who even looked at you. Your friends started calling him Bloody Mary because he was always haunting over your shoulder. You knew it was because your parents were putting a lot of pressure on him and his crush on Harry Potter was becoming inhumanely large, but still. It was annoying.

It was even more annoying when Draco seemed to have met a suitable match in Fred Weasley.

You had a bit of a liking for muggle things. The school year was your only chance to inhabit this hobby, with your father removing all your muggle posters from your room the second you left for the train. You took Muggle Studies and begged Dumbledore not to tell your parents. You had mostly muggle-born or half-blood friends, which you also told your parents nothing about. Draco found this all the more reason to 'protect' you.

"You ought to dye your hair," you gritted out, sulking over your breakfast and resisting the urge to kick Draco's shin under the table.

Draco didn't respond, shoveling beans into his mouth with an unamused look.

"Seriously," you continued. "Your hair doesn't match your energy. Black would be very striking. You and your boyfriend would be matching."

Draco kicked your shin under the table, making you regret not taking your chance earlier. Harry was a sore spot for Draco, but Draco had just done a wandless spell on Ernest Macmillan before he could ask you to Hogsmeade, and he deserved it.

"What are you reading?" He grunted, offering an unspoken truce he knew you would take.

You shielded the cover, "Killing your brother 101. Enlightening."

"How far into it are you?"

"Almost done. I'd prepare yourself if I were you."

Draco hummed, unfazed by your murderous threats.

"You finish the notes for Charms?" you shut your book, stealing a piece of cantaloupe from Draco's plate.

"Yes," Draco looked at you eating the stolen fruit unapprovingly, pulling some sort of older brother superiority with just one look at you. Infuriating.

"What's the time?" You abandoned the Charms notes, no longer willing to admit you didn't do them.

"Just past 7," Draco pushed his plate away from him, standing and straightening his tie.

"See you at dinner," you began putting your things away and Draco mumbled a goodbye, setting off for his own classes. You were just shoveling the last of the beans he left on his plate into your mouth when a foreign group of bodies were across from you in your peripheral.

You lifted your head, hunched over the beans and still chewing, to see Fred, George, and Lee.

You squinted, chewing slowly and leaning back as to avoid any sort of tripwire for a prank.

"Malfoy," Fred said pleasantly, which was not how people usually said your last name.

"Big brother leave you by your lonesome?" Lee added, also not taking the cruel tone most would when talking about your brother.

This was odd.

"What do you want?" you swallowed your food, eyeing them suspiciously.

"I thought she was meant to be the better of them," George stage-whispered to Lee.

"We are here to formally invite you to a party we are hosting," Fred continued, unperturbed.

Lee and George watched you, waiting for your reaction.

"Alright," you agreed and stood, joining your friends in the hall to walk to class.

"That was easier than I expected," Lee said cheerfully, visibly relieved now that he was not in your presence.

"I told you," Fred puffed his chest out confidently and place his hands on the table as he stood, "Without Draco around, she's perfect."

The party was in full swing and Draco was drunk. With one guess, you would have to assume it had something to do with the way Harry kept offering to top off his glass, his hand hovering on the small of Draco's back as they talked into each other's ears.

Drunk Draco was a luxury you were not often afforded. Drunk Draco meant living a life of your own, doing things without his watchful eye.

So you also got drunk. Your friends used the term 'waisted' the next morning, but we will say 'drunk' for maturity purposes. And drunk you got!

Fred was always suspiciously close to you, and suspiciously nice once you thought harder on it. You tried not to leave any drink unguarded while he hovered and stayed with friends as often as possible.

You eventually found yourself on a large leather couch in the center of the room. Ron was next to you, stoned out of his mind, and digging around in the pocket of his flannel for more rolling papers. On the other side of you, Luna's head rolled around her neck, falling onto your shoulder and the couch and finally landing on Ginny's lap when she passed out. You watched Ginny stroke her hair, occasionally tracing a line down her nose. Sighing, you accepted the blunt when Ron finally passed it your way.

You were passing it back, sufficiently stoned out of your gourd, when it was plucked from your hands. You thought you had dropped it, jolting back and looking around frantically until you saw those awful, bony, white fingers dangling the now soggy blunt in front of your face.

"C'mon!" Ron groaned, face twisting through the stages of grief as he saw his ruined creation.

"Pot?" Draco said as if he were 40 and with a mortgage.

"Pot," you replied as if you were 17 and at a party.

One of you had an accurate hold on reality. The other held a soggy blunt.

Ron took the soggy blunt and attempted to salvage it, sinking down to his knees to work on the coffee table in front of you. Draco took his seat and set his drink on the table to his side. He didn't drink from it, presumably because of a blunt that had been swimming in it for a moment.

"I thought you were with Harry," you said slowly, torn between wanting to hurt Draco if something had gone badly with Harry and actually wanting to know why he wasn't still with him.

"Yeah, he went up to bed," Draco answered, not sounding pitiful and mournful like he had a habit of sounding after interacting with Harry.

"He didn't take you with him?" you slurred, leaning into Draco's strong and seemingly sober shoulder.

"Shut up," he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your side and hauling you off the couch. You reached into his pocket, finding some loose bills you knew would be there, and slipped them to Ron as compensation before you left.

You felt accomplished, drunk and high, leaving a party after a fun time. It was also a highlight to have given Ron Weasley Draco's drug money.

As per usual, you didn't have a date for Hogsmeade. Your friends were all in Madam Puddifoot's with their dates, gazing over the table at each other like lovesick puppies. Draco currently had you in a headlock while he rubbed his knuckles into the top of your head.

You shoved your heal into his foot, making him release you.

You both returned to your drinks with slightly labored breaths and scowls.

Draco was upset because Harry wasn't at Hogsmeade and you were upset because you were in Hogsmeade with Draco. You would have fallen at his knees and begged him to release you from the chains of this sibling dynamic if he weren't the one buying lunch today.

You ate, still scowling, and walked around scowling, and returned to Hogwarts scowling. You hugged each other, scowling, before bed and went to your respective dorms.

It was hot and there was no wind. Really, absolutely no wind. The water on the black lake was eerily reflective and the trees were unmoving.

You were walking with some friends, charmed fans moving around you as they blew cold air in your faces. You were returning from Hogsmeade with ice cream, very happy from the outing without Draco.

Regretfully, Draco did not seem to be as happy.

Stepping into the courtyard, you felt a drop of your ice cream land on your hand, sticky and cold and messy, and at the same time, you saw Draco hurl himself at Fred Weasley.

Fred sprawled across the courtyard, landing on some poorly transfigured pillows that you guessed were the product of George's wandless magic. His head was cushioned from what would have been a nasty hit on the stone. He squirmed under Draco, long arms and legs flailing against the steady weight Draco was putting on him.

You watched Lee and George leaning against a wall, presumably letting Fred fight this battle on his own.

You decided to do something similar.

You watched as Fred wrangled himself free, both boys tripping over the pillows until George vanished them. In the free space, they circled each other with their hands raised. It was funny to see two pure-blood wizards fighting so viciously without a hint of magic.

Draco took a step forward with his left foot, tricking Fred out to lunge at him from the right. He had Fred's leg and then Fred was on the ground again, grunting in pain. Draco flipped him and pinned him, knee resting on Fred's back and hands holding his arms together. Deciding Draco had enough fun, you walked over.

"Fight Club?" you offered, quirking an eyebrow.

"Did you go to Hogsmeade?" Draco ignored you, panting slightly. Up close you saw he had a nasty bruise on his cheekbone and some blood coming from his nose. Fred must have gotten a few hits in.

"Yeah," you licked your ice cream, "bloody scorching out."

"Hm," Draco hummed, adjusting his grip on Fred's arm and causing Fred to yelp in pain.

"How are you?" you asked politely.

"Alright. You?"

"Alright."

Draco nodded.

"So, what's this about?"

"He said he was going to prank you," Draco said, shrugging and adjusting Fred's arm again on purpose.

You gasped in faux shock, crouching down to look at Fred.

"A prank?" you asked him, smirking.

"No!" Fred yelped when he tried to move his arms.

You looked to Draco, whose eyebrows were furrowed. "I heard you! You said you were going to take her out!"

"Draco."

"Draco!" Fred yelped, finally getting his arms loose and crawling from underneath Draco's grasp.

"Oh my fucking god."

"Merlin," Fred mumbled, looking at your face and then Draco's guilty expression.

"Oh," Draco said simply, head tilting as he added up the moment's events in his head.

"Oh my fucking god," you repeated.

Draco got his feet under him.

"Oh my fucking god!" you hurled your ice cream cone at his back, hitting him hard as he ran. You chased him, narrowly avoiding the trail of melted strawberry ice cream he was leaving through the halls.

#draco #draco malfoy #malfoy #big brother draco #fred weasley x reader #fred has a crush on the reader #draco is an overprotective brother #draco is stupid #draco loves harry #drarry #humor #harry potter #hp #hogwarts

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Cinematic Coincidences

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

(Spencer’s POV)- listen I just love his POV lol

Summary: Spencer can’t bring himself to go on another date that’s been set up for him- so he stands his date up. Spence seemingly can’t catch a break and runs into the date he stood up.

A/N: Hey heyyy- here’s my seventh fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April!! This one was requested by @andiebeaword (I added a reference for your love of hallmark movies in this hehe)- this is the original request- I tweaked the characters involved just a small bit lol I accidentally end up defaulting to using the people on the dream team lol- im going to start working in later characters in the show into some stuff in upcoming works (I’m also rewatching the later seasons so that’ll help get me inspired) Im always looking for feedback on my fics or really to talk about anything with my followers so feel free to drop into my inbox- here!! Thanks for reading- y’all have been so sweet 🥰 and hope y’all enjoy!!

Warnings: Insecure Spencer, Getting stood up for on a date, Morgan and Garcia (just the team in general) not really understanding Spencer fully, one tiny sexual innuendo- I think that’s it nothing too bad this time around

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.4K

This was not what I wanted to be doing today. Garcia had once again inquired about my love life- along with Morgan of course, wanting to find out about all the juicy details. I didn’t know why they continued to ask when it was obvious that my love life was about as exciting as watching paint dry.

I gave my normal response to these types of inquiries, brushing them off without sounding too hurtful. Unfortunately Garcia would not be satiated by my response, apparently she was now fed up with my dull love life and felt like she needed to be personally involved. Garcia was very near and dear to me, just like Morgan, but I couldn’t deny that this grated my nerves.

“We’ll make you a dating profile too! Maybe you’ll find someone cute to date- or maybe get some?!” Garcia was chipper as usual, with her eyebrows wiggling at her suggestion that I should have a one night stand. All that I felt from her words was dread.

The dangers of online dating swirled in my mind and I tried to protest, it came out more like a stammer though. Morgan then patted me on the back and piped up, giving his own opinion, “Yeah- I think it’ll be good for you, pretty boy.”

Again I wanted to protest, beginning to stammer out another reason why I didn’t think it was a good idea. I sighed heavily when I was cut off again, by Morgan and Garcia already planning on what pictures they were going to upload of me. At least I knew that they had my best interests at heart, they wanted me to be happy with someone- or get some like Garcia had mentioned earlier. Still, it didn’t change the fact that there was no way I’d ever want to go willingly on a date with someone I had met on the internet.

—-

My thoughts had not changed since Morgan and Garcia had set up the dating profile for me. There hadn’t been any person I had been on a date with that had successfully been able to keep me interested beyond a few conversations.

“No luck with the online dating?” Morgan had teased when I had walked in with my head held low. This endeavor was just making me realize how picky and undesirable I was. Why couldn’t I just find someone pretty and be happy with it?

Morgan’s face twisted from a smile into a frown when I didn’t answer him, making my way silently to my desk.

For the rest of the day the team tiptoed around me, sensing my sadness. There was part of me that was angry at them for thinking that I couldn’t handle a few bad dates. But, they were right. I couldn’t handle the sting of rejection or the disappointment of a date that didn’t live up to my expectations.

Emily always seemed to know how to cheer me up, so I did attempt some small conversation in the break room while we were both getting our coffee. She never gave me any pity like the others who just flashed me sad looks, unwilling to make any effort to help- or like Garcia and Morgan, they helped in the wrong way even if their intentions were pure.

Her solution to my problem did make my ears perk up a bit, “Hey- I saw that you’ve been down and that it’s been about the online dating Morgan and Garcia made you get into.” I nodded my head in confirmation then gesturing for her to continue while I poured copious amounts of sugar into my drink. Emily opted for mostly cream instead of sugar, stirring her coffee a little, then continuing her thought,”I wondered how you would feel about being set up on a blind date. It’s someone I know so maybe that would make you feel better about going on it? Instead of having to deal with technology that I know you despise.”

Emily had a way of seeing exactly how I was feeling and not just spitting out facts without solutions like the others. Her solution made me nervous of course, there would probably never be a date that I wouldn’t be nervous for. However, this option made me feel a little bit more hopeful about my prospects in the dating pool. It was someone that she knew and trusted enough to suggest them as a potential match for a coworker. Emily didn’t trust easy, I could trust her judgment on this despite my nerves.

I gulped down a large sip of my overly sweetened coffee, collecting my thoughts before then answering, “Alright- I’ll go.”

—

The date that I was supposed to go on was at a quaint cafe near work. Emily had even made the effort to make sure that I had been there before so I might be more comfortable.

At first I had been extremely excited for the date, even going so far as to pick out my outfit. I would have worn my purple button up, that was the one I got the most compliments in. Emily had told me some stuff that my date was interested in so I made sure to brush up on my knowledge by reading about the topics. I had even called back to the restaurant menu in my mind, preparing myself by picking out what I wanted beforehand. On one of my dates set up through the dating app I had stumbled on my choice for food, making the person unnecessarily snappy. I had to cover all my bases to minimize potential awkwardness on my part.

Self doubt began to creep in after I had gotten fully dressed. I had gotten ready way too early in anticipation for the date, now sitting on my couch tapping my foot impatiently. I looked at my watch that sat over my long sleeves watching the clock tick closer and closed to when I was supposed to leave.

Biting my lip in worry, my mind couldn’t help but wander over into my self doubts. I couldn’t help but ask myself why anyone would want to date someone as tall and lanky as me- or why would someone want to go on a date with someone that couldn’t keep their mouth shut about random topics that no one cared about.

My self doubt swallowed any confidence that I had begun to build up in preparation for the date. I knew Emily would be furious with me tomorrow when I went into work, I didn’t want her to find out through her friend though. Deciding to get it over with I pulled out the phone I never used and texted her, telling her that I wasn’t coming. I told her to give my regrets to my date, who at this point was probably waiting patiently for me at the cafe. Sighing in defeat I then retreated into my bedroom again, crawling under my covers.

——

Emily hadn’t been furious with me- well that was a lie, at first she had stomped up to me the next morning to chew me out. She became more disappointed than anything when she found out my reasonings. She hadn’t mentioned anything about how the person I was supposed to be going on the blind date with felt. Not that I really wanted to hear about it, it would only make me feel worse. All I got from her was a small remark mumbled under her breath, “Idiots- the both of you…”

For the next few weeks I tried in vain to push thoughts of my failed blind date out of my head. I had avoided going in the general direction of the cafe. Luckily I took the metro everyday to work otherwise I’d have to drive by it every day, and I already hated driving.

I was at the bookstore for used booksjust around the corner from the cafe that was supposed to hold my date a few weeks ago. This was the closest I dared to go near it in a while. Since then I hadn’t been able to go there anymore, even though I loved the coffee there. Immense guilt had wormed its way into my brain when I had tried to order something there a week ago. All I had done was stammer at the cashier before bolting out of there, just another addition on the list of embarrassing things that I’ve done in my life.

I was flipping through an old edition of pride and prejudice out of boredom, there hadn’t been anything interesting stocked on the shelves since I had last been here. Then a voice piped up through the air that had a bit of dust flying through it,

“Excuse me, sir- if you’re still looking at that book would you mind if I looked at the ones on the shelf behind you?”

It took me a second before I realized the person was talking to me. I then removed my eyes from the book to blink up at them a few times, then registering what they had said to me and moved out of the way.

Their eyes were still glued to mine, the bookshelf behind me that they had wanted to look at forgotten. An awkward chuckle was all we both could seem to manage as we looked each other up and down. Emily had shown me a picture on her phone of my date so I would have been able to spot them at the restaurant. My cheeks flushed hard once I realized who was standing before me. There was no doubt who this was, the date I had stood up the night before.

Silence then fell between us and not the pleasant kind, it was most definitely awkward. I couldn’t imagine how they must have been feeling after I hadn’t shown up last night. They probably had sat

“Um- hi…” They spoke hesitantly, wringing their fingers in trepidation. My jaw opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with anything to say.

“Hi!” Was all I could manage to squeak out, plus a small wave in their direction.

They wrung their fingers a few more times, seemingly trying to come up with a response. I was surprised they hadn’t hit me with one of the books near them out of anger. It would be a normal response to being stood up for a date, the trepidation and silence just served to unnerve me further. Eventually they spoke again, saving me from anymore awkward silence which in my opinion was worse than awkward conversation, “Um- sorry for um, standing you up uh- a few weeks ago.”

That made my eyes bug out of my head- they had done the exact same thing as I had? Insecurity soon swept in, trying to tell me exactly why they had not shown up without hearing their side of the story. I looked down at the book I was holding, reading a few words for a moment of reprieve. Taking a deep breath I asked quietly, not admitting to my own faults yet, “W-why did you um- not go? If you don’t mind me asking…”

A deep sigh was what I got at first, one that obviously had a lot of stress in it. They then did provide me with an explanation, despite their obvious embarrassment, Well- It had nothing to do with you- a simple explanation would be saying it was my insecurity’s fault.”

Not that I would ever want anyone to feel insecure, but I would admit that them saying that did make my own stress melt away. They had not gone for almost the exact same reasons that me. I decided to be upfront, giving them my own reasoning- though I wasn’t even sure they realized that I hadn’t gone as well. “I don’t know if Emily told you, but I um- stood you up as well. It wasn’t because of anything bad! It was really for the same reason as you.”

They then broke out into giggles after they had processed my words for a second, which were much more relaxed than the awkward ones from before. I didn’t blame them, it was a pretty funny coincidence that we’d both stand each other up only to run into each other not knowing what we had done.

“I feel like we’re in one of those cheesy Hallmark movies right now…” Their comparison only confused me, I had no clue what they were talking about.

“What’s a Hallmark movie?” More giggles came from them at my questioning, though for once I didn’t feel like I was being laughed at. I felt like they were laughing at the whole situation, not at me specifically like so many people had often done. Also, I couldn’t help but admit to myself that their giggle was very cute.

Once their giggles had subsided a little they asked me something that almost no one would ask the person that had stood them up, “Maybe I could tell you over a coffee? If you want to of course- Emily told me about how much sugar you like in it.”

My interest was peaked, making me further regret having stood them up in the first place. Though I tried to push that thought out of the way considering we had both done the same thing. It was time to let that go so I could go on a date with them finally. Seeing them in person and being able to glimpse part of their personality made me want to know more.

“Alright- sure.” I set down the book I had been passively reading, now completely disinterested in it. There was something far more interesting in front of me now compared to a classic book I had read over ten times.

We both walked around the corner, to the cafe that we had originally had our date scheduled at. Conversation flowed easily between us, showing me that Emily had been totally right to set us up initially. Her words now made sense to me, we were both a couple of idiots.

We then got our coffee, which had been much smoother of a transaction compared to the last time I had been here. I took note of how much sugar and cream they liked, just in case we were going to do this again. Sitting down at the closest booth I then asked, “So tell me about Hallmark movies?”

Ask Me Anything

—-

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