Katsuki stared down at the kitchen table and the gift that sat innocently on top of it. His gripped tightened on the counter top that he was leant against, trying to will himself to move but it wasn’t working. The gift was unwrapped, the simple black and gold paper folded neatly next to the item in question. He had made sure to be careful when opening it, tugging at the gold ribbon gently and leaving that draped across the table. It was from Y/N after all and he didn’t want to damage it in his haste to see what she had given him.
When Y/N had pressed the gift into his hands as he was leaving the dorms for the holidays Katsuki had been confused to start with but then embarrassment, happiness and smugness had settled in as he felt his cheeks heat up. That had been quickly squished though by the guilt that he didn’t have a gift to give the girl in return, hadn’t even thought about it and he berated himself for the missed opportunity. She had laughed it off, smiling brightly and telling him not to worry, that it was only a small token of her gratitude. Then she had ruined it all by thanking him for being such a good friend and Katsuki had felt her words like a slap in the face. The only consolation he had was that the girl had done the exact same thing to the half ‘n’ half bastard, giving him a gift of similar size just wrapped in silver and white paper with a silver ribbon tied around it. He had blushed, his face going almost the same colour as his stupid hair, only for his brows to pull down in a frown as Y/N thanked him for his friendship and Katsuki had only just managed to stifle his bark of laughter.
Katsuki didn’t know if she was doing it on purpose or if she was actually that dense that she didn’t realise how he and the other teen felt about her but either way they had been firmly put in the friend zone as Mina called it and Katsuki didn’t like it one bit. Y/N was the first girl he had ever truly been interested in and he couldn’t seem to convey that interest to her in a way that she would realise. It was frustrating as all hell and he had hoped that over the Christmas break he would have been able to come up with something but he had been so busy that he hadn’t actually had time to think about the girl apart from early that morning when he had guiltily jerked off to the memory of her in her hero costume and all that flawless skin that had been on display.
Dove rubbed at his knuckles. They weren’t really sore, but there was a light layer of blood on them that smeared. It wasn’t his blood. In front of him, the guy he’d punched glared at him while holding his- most likely broken- nose. He ignored him in favour of Neptune. The other boy stood off to the side behind him, shielded by him, playing with his fingerless gloves with a frown. When he turned to him, making sure to keep the other guy in his peripheral in case he got the bad idea to attack him, Neptune’s eyes snapped to his.
“So why did I have to punch that guy?”
Neptune gaped for only a moment before he protested. “I didn’t ask you to!”
“You didn’t.” Dove shrugged. Of course Neptune didn’t, Neptune didn’t tend to fight unless he absolutely had to. ‘I’m a lover, not a fighter,’ Neptune had once told him. And he figured it translated into others fighting for him. But he’d seen the guy messing with Neptune and stepped in. “So why was he fucking with you?”
“He’s upset over all the female friends I have and won’t believe me that I’m not dating any of them,” Neptune mumbled, no doubt embarrassed. And no doubt unaware his constant flirting might be at least part of why the guy didn’t believe him. A much larger part was definitely the guy being a dick, though.
“He harassed you for something so stupid?” Dove said, letting a touch of anger seep into his monotone as he sent a look toward the guy who flinched. Neptune looked sheepish and Dove had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes at it. Someone could literally pour soup in his lap and he’d probably apologize.
“It’s fine,” Neptune said. Though he faltered when Dove turned the look on him. He looked at Neptune hard before he closed his eyes and sighed. Well, it wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted to do it. But it was something he’d wanted to do for a while at least. No matter what he wouldn’t regret his next actions.
“I know how to solve this.”
“You d-” Dove yanked Neptune down to his level using the scarf around his neck, cutting him off, and kissed him soundly. Before Neptune had the chance to do anything but flail he pulled away.
“He’s not dating any of his female *friends*. He’s dating me,” Dove told the guy pointedly, who looked just as confused as he assumed Neptune probably was. “Neptune doesn’t tend to lie.” Which was true, so Dove really hoped Neptune kept his mouth shut and let him handle it.
The guy looked between them, looking angrier that he’d been proven wrong than that Dove had quite possibly broken his nose. Then he huffed and turned away. His tart 'fine’ sounded off.
“You should get the nurse to look at that,” Dove said before the guy could walk very far, both a parting taunt and warning. A reminder that he *did* hurt him and could again. The 'worse’ could hopefully remain unsaid. When he finally turned back to Neptune, his eyes were already on him, wide and blue and bright in their intensity. For a long, almost drawn out moment Neptune just stared.
“Did you just ask me out?”
Dove tilted his head and shrugged after a moment’s thought. He supposed he did. Neptune’s fingers paused where he’d started to play with his gloves again and his mouth twitched a moment before he laughed. *Really* laughed. Sparks of indignation rose in Dove, but it was more mock than anything. He knew Neptune wasn’t laughing at him. Instead, he was likely laughing at the situation more than anything. Like an infectious thing, Dove could feel a few bubbles of humour rising in his chest and popping into laughter as he thought about it himself. Not even once had he considered he’d confess to Neptune and definitely not in such a way. Well, not like he’d take it back. “I did.”
“Oh.” Neptune looked surprised and finally looked away. Though now his eyes were on their shoes. There was a moment where neither of them said anything. He took off his glove to run a fingernail across the lines of his palm. “… yes, then,” Neptune said eventually. It was quiet, though. Too quiet for Dove to hear him.
“What?”
“Yes,” Neptune repeated louder. He looked back up to meet Dove’s eyes. That was one thing Dove really liked about Neptune. Even when he was scared or felt intimidated, he could still push himself to meet that head on. Though he still had trouble when it came to his thalassophobia. But even that, Dove could tell he was trying to face as best he could. “I’ll go out with you.”
“Okay,” Dove said. “Then this Friday night, movie and popcorn. I’ll pay.”
“Alright,” Neptune said and he smiled something small and sincere. Something that actually reached into Dove to make his chest flutter. Gross and gushy. But not so bad with Neptune, he supposed. He grabbed Neptune’s scarf to pull him down again and this time Neptune met him halfway.
“I’m jealous of Naru!” She snapped out, falling back on herself immediately, surprised with herself. Over time, Mai had seemed to have that effect on her quite a lot. It was infuriating. Masako was used to having a handle on her emotions. Used to the calm, detached look she kept. From their first job together Mai seemed effective in smashing through that. Annoyingly, Mai just blinked at her. Discomfort settled over her skin. “Well, are you just going to sit there or will you say something?” She asked with as much calm as she could muster.
“I…” Mai looked genuinely confused. Her head tilted to the side like a cocker spaniel. “Why would you be jealous of Naru?”
Masako… could not believe this. Just how stupid was Mai? No wonder Naru felt he had to keep an eye on her. Not only was Mai endearingly kind, she was also infuriatingly dense. This was one of the main reasons Masako hadn’t liked her to begin with. And then she had to go and… Be everything else. Everything she couldn’t always be. Kind. Emotive. Passionate. So, so passionate over everything. Like it just burst out of her because there was so much it had no other choice. “Because I’m in love with you.”
Mai froze and for the longest moment, Masako was terrified. It wasn’t the first time she felt fear. Actually, she has felt fear quite often. Both her own and others. But never like this. Mentally, she knew whatever happened ultimately didn’t affect her seriously. A rejection wouldn’t kill her or give her an irreparable injury. It felt like it could, though. It felt like everything in her life was riding on Mai’s next words and it was terrifying . Then Mai shook her head, eyes down. Masako’s heart plummeted.
“You're… in love? With me ?” Mai asked hesitantly. It felt like Masako was on a roller coaster. Or, she thought it felt like she was on a roller coaster. She’d never been on one before, but this felt like how she’d heard people describe it. Her heart flipped at the tone of Mai’s voice.
“Yes,” Masako said quietly. It felt like if she spoke any louder the moment would shatter and she’d be left behind in pieces. She didn’t think she’d be able to confess again, if this wasn’t real.
For a moment Mai gaped at her. Like a fish. And then her mouth closed and her eyes sparkled. “I love you, too, Masako.” The words were quiet, but full. Full in a way Masako didn’t really know words could be. Hope and joy and love and all the positive emotions Masako felt she could think of as well as a shyness that she’d rarely seen against Mai’s passion. But then… She smiled. And it was small, but determined, and Masako could see that addicting- and yes, infuriating - passion spark in her eyes. When Mai smiled, Masako smiled back. Smaller but no less brightly.
Summary: Lan Wangji tried to look around, but found that he was immobilized. Not panicking, because he was a powerful cultivator who did not need to panic, Lan Wangji attempted to break the immobilization with his golden core.
Only to realize that his core, while intact, was blocked.
He attempted to move his fingers.
Nothing.
No matter what part of himself Lan Wangji attempted to move or wiggle, he received no response from his body.
Still not panicking, really not at all, Lan Wangji tried to parse what he could see in front of him, without moving his eyes.
There was a shelf that appeared to be almost half the size of Koi Tower in front of him, but before he began not panicking about that, he realized that no. The shelf was not a gigantic piece of furniture. It was Lan Wangji who was abnormally sized.
He had, in fact, gone from standing over two bu high, to measuring perhaps a single chi in length.
He was tiny .
…
Lan Wangji began to panic. ** In which Lan Wangji is cursed to be marionette puppet and transported to a different universe, where he is picked up by an alluring and kind puppeteer with a mysterious past…
My comments: This was a gift for me ❤️!@therealfailwhale was my author for MDZS RBB @mdzsrbb this year, and look what they produced!!!
This one is a hoot from the very first sentence. It is fluffy and fun, and features a thirsty Lan Wangji who is so. FRUSTRATED. that his teeny size is preventing him from acting on his thoughts. Heh heh heh.
Lan Wangji is just happy he’s no longer wooden, okay; Wei Wuxian is entirely smitten; Jiang Cheng is shouty and confused; Nie Huaisang has secrets; and I am just along for the ride. Two world collide, herein, and the mashup is greater than the sum of its parts. (And. AND! This charming story was written for my art, for the MDZS RBB, and I’m so honored and delighted and happy about that. I want to share it with everyone.)
Excerpt: Wei Wuxian pulled Lan Wangji away from his chest and held him up to look into his tiny face.
“You hear that, you beautiful man? You’re coming home with me!” Wei Wuxian grinned widely, and glanced up at Jiang Cheng. “Didi! Meet my husband!”
“You can’t marry a puppet!” shouted Jiang Cheng, as Lan Wangji felt a desire to hide his face.
modern au, wingfic, tiny lan wangji, puppet lan wangji, POV lan wangji, parallel universes, curses, the power of consent and autonomy, Schrodinger’s nielan, sangcheng, size difference, so many innuendos about size differences, getting to know each other, falling in love, puppets, developing relationship, slow burn, crack taken seriously, angry grape jiang cheng, different first meeting, domestic, suppportive wei wuxian, protective wei wuxian, orphans jiang cheng & wei wuxian, thirsty lan wangji, family reunion, getting together, first kiss, fluff, happy ending, favorite
This story is part of the MDZS RBB 2022 which is currently posting over on AO3. Y'all go read and love!
Summary:Lan Sizhui meets a servant on a night hunt at Mo Manor. Though this servant has a rather plain-looking, forgettable face, Lan Sizhui quickly learns why one should never judge a book by its cover. –or– After being resurrected by the rather plain-looking, gap-toothed Li Wenxiao, Wei Wuxian has to contend with constant dismissals of his skill and intelligence. Luckily for him, Hanguang-Jun is willing to stand by his side no matter what. If only Wei Wuxian could figure out why…
My comments: ❤️This was written for my art-prompt and I love it SO. MUCH. The idea of wwx resurrecting as a homely woman has haunted me for years, because there’s such fertile ground there to explore. And Eudoxia did it with verve. This fic has everything: unexpectedly-female wwx, humor, adorable juniors, utterly smitten and thirsty lwj, philosophy on gender, shameless wangxian…. And more coming up in the series! (Which is great, because I cannot get enough!)
Excerpt 1:“So polite, Lan-gongzi. This one is called Li Wenxiao. Just call me whatever, I don’t mind. In fact, most people I meet call me gongzi or xiansheng, on account of my face!” She laughs, pointing a finger at her bright smile.
Lan Sizhui frowns, studying her face for a moment. It’s a very plain, boring face; round cheeks, a bit of a second chin when she smiles, thick eyebrows, peach blossom eyes. There’s a small but noticeable gap between her two front teeth when she smiles. Overall, a rather forgettable face. Lan Sizhui can’t help but think it’s a little tragic that a young woman—perhaps only ten years his senior—would be unlucky enough to have such a face.
Excerpt 2:Lan Jingyi grabs his arm, shaking him as he hisses, “What do you mean you don’t know? Look at how familiar they are! Hanguang-jun is guiding Li Wenxiao’s donkey! He may as well be,”—Lan Jingyi struggles for words, waving his arms in the air like he’s juggling, before he finally says—“caressing her face! I don’t know! Who isshe?”
canon divergence, resurrected as a girl, wei wuxian comes back as a girl, POV multiple, female wei wuxian, adorable juniors, teacher wei wuxian, (not officially but he is SUCH a teacher), lan sizhui is the best boy, gender and philosophy, oblivious wei wuxian, genderqueer wei wuxian, shameless lan wangji, demisexual lan wangji, some very light and well-earned lan xichen bashing, light angst, thirsty lan wangji, pining, love confessions, getting together, idiots in love, doting lan wangji, het smut, favorite, @eudoxiav @mdzsrbb
Summary: For three years, Marshal Lan “The Swan” Zhan and Marshal Jiang “JC” Cheng have been scouring the country for Wei Wuxian, who’d done a runner from Chicago after causing a fracas. Could it be they finally found… him???
[Author’s Note: The “Longwood” in this story is intended purely to be a penis joke and is not supposed to resemble any actual place in the US that might be called Longwood. :)]
My comments: Aww, this was delightfully absurd, and I enjoyed every bit of it. Also, the included artwork is fantastic. Also, also: Old Shitface Yao the saloon owner is going to nourish me for a week.
Excerpt: “Well, I’ll say,” JC mumbled, looking askance at the singer and the corpse of the former proprietor of the saloon. “The crowd was getting restless and I came back here to see how you were getting on. And what do I find? A corpse, and the two of you in a prelude to the carnal embrace. What about your undying love for Wei Wuxian, huh?”
“Who’s Wei Wuxian?” The Red Lotus looked momentarily scandalized. “That your girlfriend, sweetie? I should’ve known a handsome cad like you would be taken.”
“It’s not…” Lan Zhan stammered a bit helplessly. “I’m not…”
“What? Taken?” the Red Lotus asked with a sly grin.
“Handsome,” JC cut in, throwing Lan Zhan a rather judgmental look.
“Look, it’s…” Again, Lan Zhan found himself at a loss for words. “It’s all rather complicated. But in any case, you don’t know that name, then?”
“Who, darling?”
“Wei Ying.”
“Who’s that, baby?”
“Wei Wuxian,” JC cut in again.
“Well, which is it, I haven’t got all night,” the singer declared as she turned towards her vanity and fixed the locks of the crimson wig around her sharp cheekbones.
“It’s the same man!” JC replied, growing visibly irritated.
“Oh! It’s a man! Well, why didn’t you say so before, darling? Here I was all getting worked up and jealous.” She looked back over her shoulder and threw a playful wink in Lan Zhan’s direction.
western au, ukraine charity auction, jiang cheng & lan wangji, lan wangji has friends, POV lan wangji, humor, crack, crack treated seriously, sassy lan wangji, pretending to be a girl wei wuxian, crossdressing, POV jiang cheng, farce, getting together, the body count is getting kind of high, funny, fanart, @jadedbirch
Summary:So there was this jar, and it had so much peanut butter still in it, and when his fox nose scented it and didn’t catch any poison or spoilage, what was he supposed to do? Not avail himself of this gift? No. He shoved his delicate little snout right in there and got to licking, but, you know… Elegantly. Definitely not snarfing and making horrible little fox sounds and rolling around on the ground while he went ham on the jar. Sure, he had to work a little bit to get at the last of it, but anything good is worth working for, right? So finally, triumphant, no longer starving, and maybe a little thirsty now from eating half a cup of peanut butter in about two minutes, he’d tried to remove his head from the jar.
Operative word tried.
Or: Wei Ying gets stuck. Lan Zhan helps.
My comments: Well, now, this was a hoot and a ride, due to being inside wwx’s head for the whole story (along with his colony of over-caffeinated squirrels and the eighteen trains of thought he has going in and out of his brain depot). He’s a feral cuddle-monster as a fox and an insecure and anxious human if he thinks too much, and there’s zero filter at all, so he often uses mouth words when no mouth words should have been used, and it’s hilarious.
Luckily, Lan Zhan is really *really* into that.
Excerpt 1: He thinks, briefly, about shifting into his human form. Would he just sort of… explode out of the jar? Or would he end up with his human-sized head stuck inside this fox-sized peanut butter jar? That is genuinely the most horrifying thought he’s ever had in his life. No fucking way. Shifting is right out! Not today Satan, not today!
Excerpt 2: He reaches one gloved hand in and murmurs, “Don’t worry, Xiao-gua, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
Wei Ying dies a little inside and doesn’t think he can be blamed for it. Anyone would feel the same way after hearing that voice coming out of that face calling an angry possum “Little Melon” in Chinese. The possum apparently agrees, because it stops hissing and goes docile, settling into a corner of the box and blinking up at Hot Animal Hero with sleepy eyes. “Good job,” Hot Animal Hero tells the possum. “You’re doing very well.”
Wei Ying is going to fucking marry this man. Tall, hot, smells good, good with animals? He’s gone. He’s done. The crush he develops is instant and all-consuming.
fox wei wuxian, modern au, modern with magic, poverty, humor, chaotic wei wuxian, adhd wei wuxian, wildlife animal rescuer lan wangji, human/fox disaster wei wuxian, shananigans & hijinks, flirting, crushes, hurt wei wuxian, in that his head is stuck in a jar for a long time, caretaking, huli jing, shapeshifting, POV wei wuxian, THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY, insecure wei wuxian, protective lan wangji, thirsty lan wangji, empath lan wangji, touch telepathy, getting to know each other, getting together, meet cute, cuddling, first kiss, first time, scenting, scent kink, enthusiastic consent, hurt/comfort, communication, favorite
(You may wish to REBLOG as a signal boost for this author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)
The fifth of seven brand new Drarry fics inspired by the seven Weasley siblings.
@ladderofyears gives us this anthology’s fifth instalment, a relaxed evening in front of the telly, with drinks, snacks, a good mate — and a captivating story filled with Christmas fluff. Only question is, will Arsenal manage to take home the win?
Arsenal are on the telly, so Harry and George settle in to enjoy the match. As they watch, Harry tells his best mate the story of what occurred on Christmas Eve, and how Draco Malfoy and he went from being friends to being something far more significant.
This weekend, we’ll post seven brand new holiday-infused fics, each one inspired by one of the seven Weasley siblings. Each story is a stand-alone work, but together they make up the anthology we call Seven Shades of Weasley.
Over the weekend, we’ll give you 7 fics — plus an accompanying Spotify playlist containing 7 songs, one for each fic included in the collection.
We — the Seven Shades of Drarry — are a group of Drarry fanfiction writers of different backgrounds, ages, and nationalities who work together in a rare collaboration. Seven different writing styles, seven different strengths, seven different weaknesses, all united in one project, working together to create unified themed collections based around the number seven. Each theme has seven threads, each writer assigned a thread to inspire their story, and all combined to create The Seven Shades of Drarry.
Kaz finished the rest of his tea, placing the empty cup back on his desk. He’d been looking at the same paperwork for the past hour, it seemed, never getting any further with it.
He sighed and rolled up his shirtsleeves, exposing the black ink of the crow and cup on his forearm. It was hot and stuffy in his room, but he knew if he opened the window and let the noise from below invade the room, he may as well give up on work completely.
He was still too warm, could feel the stickiness of sweat starting to collect on the back of his neck. The glands on his wrists were itching, and he pulled off his gloves, idly scratching at one of them.
It took him a moment to realise what he was doing.
Draco winced as shrill cries rang through the living room. Increasing the speed of his hip-bop, he hoped that the rapid bouncing put Teddy to sleep. To no avail - he’s almost sure his eardrum was blasted straight off by the time Potter rushed to take the wailing baby from him - Saint Potter to the Rescue he thought to himself snidely - and the little bugger promptly fell silent. Good grief. Were even 1 year olds not immune to the Golden Boy’s charm?
Swallowing down bitter disappointment and a strange resentment, Draco averted his gaze from the pity clearly visible in Potter’s eyes, and whirled around to stomp to the kitchen. He’d better prepare dinner - Merlin knew Potter could set fire to a pot of boiling water if Draco left him to it.
A month ago, Andromeda had unexpectedly died of an incurable, progressive blood curse, leaving her grandson to their care. The moment Draco had known that he would have to take care of his nephew with his childhood nemesis, he had been on the verge of throwing a massive strop, but then Teddy’s hair had guilelessly turned blond, and Draco’s heart had fucking melted. So here he was, chopping onions and pretending that his tears were anything but a result of sleepless nights, and days filled with frustration.
Of course, that was when the source of Draco’s misery bumbled into the kitchen in pure Potter fashion. He had to grip the knife tighter to resist the urge to smack the git, or something inane like straighten his collar and comb his finger through those hopeless curls. Ugh, Draco hated his inner sap.
Nonetheless, like had become a weird kind of routine, Potter leaned against the counter, watching Draco work. He had, presumably, put Teddy to sleep, and was here to annoy Draco like always. Not that Draco didn’t encourage it, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered.
“Can I help?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Potter, we both know you can’t coo to save your life. I trust you’ve fed Teddy, and reinforced the cushioning charms?”
Through a small smile lurking about his lips - Draco snapped his eyes away, he’d cut his finger if he spent a moment more staring at Potter’s lips - he said, “Of course I did. You’re such a mother hen.” Fondness had bled through Potter’s tone at the end, and Draco didn’t think his cheeks had ever turned hot this fast.
Draco scoffed, but let it slide. He knew that Potter had only been jesting, and long-gone were the days of mean insults and petty fights.
Fully concentrated on peeling the potatoes, Draco didn’t notice when Potter moved, and so was badly startled when thickly-corded forearms - fuck’s sake, Draco’s inner sap, stop gushing - came around him to rest on the kitchen counter. Heartbeat out of control, Draco remained perfectly still as the warmth at his back moved closer, and obediently let go of the peeler when hands gently pulled it away from his grasp.
It was so silent, Draco could hear his pulse pounding in his ears, and his mouth opened in a silent gasp when a single kiss was placed on the side of his neck. It was followed by a hard suck, and then teeth clamped down on it, making Draco’s skin goosepimple. He barely managed to turn around to face his ambusher, before he was pushed backwards, the marble slab digging into his back. Up close, Potter’s eyes seemed like glittering jewels, forged in the pits of the earth; his pupils diluting like inky darkness in an emerald sea.
No words were spoken - none were needed, after all, both of them knew this had been building for years - and as Potter leaned forward, making Draco’s neck arch back, Draco’s eyelids fluttered shut, all remaining worries flying out of his mind when their lips met.
@slytherinnbitch prompted me ‘Parent’, and @thebooktopusprompted me 'Preparing dinner together’, so here you go! I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you were expecting, I admit I took a very roundabout approach to both prompts… Send me more prompts starting with a letter from my username, and get (mostly fluffy, sometimes angsty) drarry ficlets!
So@firefly-party said “hey, write me Jaskier and Eskel accidently meeting on the beach” and I said maybe, but then I wrote it immediately, because that is how I am as a person apparently. Very hard to convince……
So please enjoy these somft boys having a moment, maybe not that accidental but very unplanned on Jaskier’s end at the least! And thank you Socks my beloved for beta reading, it is a great help when my brain is as shut off as it is. Please enjoy <3
It might have been a little on the nose. Very on the nose actually. But Jaskier is lonely. As much as he is over his last breakup, he misses having someone there. Someone to love, someone who loves him back.
It’s just a habit of his, to translate his emotion into songs. It is a way to get it out of a system, explore, express, but it leaves him feeling raw and vulnerable too.
Not all songs are sung in front of other people. Not every song makes it to the stage. Some of them are just for himself, sometimes for his friends or family. This one is balancing on the line of too-much. He played it for Essi, Priss, and just the other day at Geralt’s house, where all of them had gathered to hang out.
Jaskier is not sure why he played it, but Aiden had asked him to sing, curling his arm around Lambert, and there had been a pang of longing in his chest. Because Eskel is right there, looking at him, and Jaskier is aching for someone. So he sang it.
Today, he is second guessing himself. He has flipped up the collar of his coat against the wind, it’s a little cold, the sky cloudy and gray, the ocean beating angrily against the shore.
As soon as he started singing it, as soon as he sang “someone to you”, he knew he said too much. See, some songs you can sing in front of strangers, and they don’t know enough about you to draw conclusions.
Some songs can only be deciphered by friends, too specific to make sense to anybody else. Some songs should be sung in his room, fairy lights lit and guitar just a little out of tune, because the need to sing was stronger than the need for it to sound good.
This song is a song for strangers or for himself.
He saw it in their eyes when he finished, their pity. He didn’t even dare look at Eskel, just smiled weakly and started the next song, something less personal, something deflecting and funny.
Today, on the beach, he thinks about their faces. Thinks about how cold his hand is when he doesn’t have another to hold. How he, despite no lack of suitors, can’t seem to make himself reach for them. He doesn’t think about why.
Watching the waves stumble over each other, reach for whatever it is they seek on the shore, reaching, forever reaching, breaking against rock and sand. The symbolism is there, it’s hard to miss, but the ocean always was a place of comfort for him.
The air is cleaner here, the forces of nature always taking his mind off of what ails him. Not entirely, but much like the songs, it helps him sort things out.
There is sand on his shoes. His scarf is flapping in the wind. There are birds riding the winds, gliding above the water.
There are footsteps behind him.
Jaskier doesn’t turn. This is a popular space for people to take a walk. In fact, he made a friend because of it. An older lady with a small dog named Frank. She stops to talk to him every once in a while, he even joined her for coffee once.
But it is not Frank and his lady. It is Eskel, hands deeply buried in the big jacket he’s wearing. Jaskier’s traitorous heart skips a beat as he watches him approach, smiling as Eskel stops in front of him.
“Hi.” Jaskier greets.
“Hi.” Eskel replies, shoulders drawn up. “Real shit weather for a day on the beach.”
“Sure is.” Jaskier agrees. “Care to join me?”
Eskel nods, and they turn back to look at the waves. For a long while, they just stand there, until Jaskier breaks the silence.
“Geralt told you where to find me, didn’t he?”
“Didn’t need to. You always come here when you are upset.” Eskel says, bumping their arms together. It is a small gesture, companionable and comforting, and it works damn him.
“Hmm.” Is all Jaskier says, bumping back.
“Want to talk about it?” Eskel offers after another silence.
“I’m fine. Just a little lonely. It will pass.”
“Am I interrupting your loneliness?”
“Yes. Don’t you dare leave.”
Eskel looks thoughtful for a moment, and Jaskier glances at him from the corner of his eye.
“You know, I might have a cure for that.”
He what?
“You do?”
“I might.” Eskel corrects. “But it really depends.”
Eskel turns towards him, and Jaskier’s heart is beating fast now. It almost sounds like…
“On what?”
The wind is strong, making the tip of his nose red and cold. The gray sky is a backdrop, the waves a soundtrack.
“On you. If you’d want me. Uh- want it. Me.”
“Eskel.” Jaskier interrupts, stepping closer with a smile. “Are you asking me out?”
“I guess I- I am. Yes I am.”
Jaskier can do nothing but smile and lean closer, resting his head against Eskel’s shoulder.
“That sounds like a lovely cure.”
Eskel puts an arm around his back, and they stand together and watch the waves.
“This is a good place.” Eskel says after a while.
“I know.” Jaskier agrees. Even better now that Eskel is here.
