#bouncey talks

[pettyprocrastination]

when lil babies do that thing where they holding onto a piece of furniture to stand up and then flex their knees over and over again so they do a lil bouncey dance..absolutely adorable

[brainrottingg]

Wythe: Where are your parents?

Nel: Parents… lmao. I have sisters; they’re asleep. Long day.

Wythe: After dealing with you? I’m shocked

Nel: ANOTHER ZINGER

[swingingthehatchetnow]

Pete always averted his eyes around the homeless man downtown. Whether it was because he got awkward around social interaction or felt unwarranted guilt about the man’s situation, he’d never managed to look the man in the eyes before. He couldn’t describe his face if he tried.

That changed after Jägerman.

The things that used to be uncomfortable really weren’t anymore. After holding court with the Void, a man on the street really doesn’t seem all that intimidating. Ruth and Richie would’ve made fun of him if he was scared of the little things after the whole ordeal, he knew. It helped him to imagine their reactions. Coping and whatnot.

His walk home was lonelier. As were his study sessions and social life. But the walks home were when he really felt their loss. Even though Pete and Ruth lived in the opposite direction, they’d walk with Richie to his place, and then cut through downtown to get back to the other side of town, where he and Ruth would part ways near the Coldstone, both going to their respective homes.

He still followed that route. Coping. And whatnot.

It was just after noon. Pete had his AP statistics final in the morning, and had no class in the afternoon, because his teachers were proctoring other exams around the school. So here he was. Peter Spankoffski, walking through downtown Hatchetfield, alone. Steph had a full school day, so he wouldn’t see her until later.

“Excuse me, do you have a minute to talk about saving our planet?”

He turned. The Green Peace girl was at it again, with a wide smile and a clipboard in hand.

“It’ll only take a minute of your time,” she continued, now holding out a brochure. Trying to reduce the amount of time he had to talk to her, he took it wordlessly.

“I, um—” his voice cracked, and his face flushed red. Nobody else his age was still having voice cracks. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take a look at it. Saving the world and all.”

Not like he hadn’t done that once already.

The Green Peace girl smiled even wider, and did a little bouncey turn on her heel. The way she bobbed off reminded Pete of Steph when she was in a particularly happy mood. This thought relaxed him a bit.

He tucked the brochure into his pocket and continued walking, though he didn’t get far before he was cut off by someone else.

“Spare change for the homeless?”

Of course he knew that voice. Anyone who spent more than five minutes downtown knew about the homeless man.

Before he even looked at the man in front of him, Pete reached for his wallet. He’d just gotten a bonus at work, so he figured he had a few dollars to spare. Besides, his movie theater job paid surprisingly well.

He grabbed a $5 bill and turned to the man.

“Here you—”

He knew that face.

Older, sure, and a little lost-looking, but there was no doubt about it. Pete was looking at…

“Teddy?”

The 20 year age gap between the Spankoffski boys left them with an interesting dynamic. It was hard to feel like brothers sometimes when one of them was coming home from kindergarten while the other was getting a full time job at CCRP.

But they had their moments. When Pete was learning how to drive, Ted would let him use his car, even though he hadn’t gotten his license yet, or the night before freshman year, when Ted gave Pete his ‘Spankoffski guide to charming the ladies’ guidebook.

Hand trembling, holding out the $5 bill, Pete looked into the cloudy eyes of his older brother. His older older brother.

Somehow, some way… Ted was standing in front of Pete, a shadow of his former self.

“That’s way cool, man,” he said, taking the $5 from Pete. No sense of recollection could be seen.

“Ted, what happened to you…?” Pete watched Ted pocket the money. And then Ted… walked off. Just like that.

“Ted, wait!” Pete called after him, but Ted didn’t turn around. He simply tugged his hat down over his ears and walked off.

With trembling hands, Pete reached for his phone. He spent no more than 3 seconds looking for his brother’s contact info and hitting the call button.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Four…

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

Pete sighed in relief at the sound of his brother’s voice on the other end of the line.

“No,” he said, “my AP exam was today. Ted, I—” he paused, realizing he had no idea what he was going to say. How do you ask someone if they know that they’re the homeless man from downtown.

He lost his nerve.

“…I was just wondering if you want to hang out later. I— I got a new game, and—”

“Yeah, sure whatever. I get off work at the usual time.” A sound came from Ted’s end of the line, fabric shifting, like he’d adjusted how he was sitting. “Is that all? Because I was about to pull the ol’ Spankoffski charm on this barista that Paul is trying to snag.”

The familiarity of the conversation was enough to ease Pete’s worries. Sure, he’d held court with the Void, lost his two best friends, nearly got shot executioner-style, and ran into what he was certain was some version of his brother in the streets… but all that didn’t matter because somewhere in downtown Hatchetfield, Ted Spankoffski was fine. And so was Pete.

“I don’t say it a lot, but I’m glad you’re my brother, Teddy.”

“Sorry, I was talking to Charlotte. Did you say something?”

Pete smiled and hung up.

Maybe the universe was bigger than he knew and could ever understand.

So what.

[hexiewrites]

make this inn our own: chapter one

for @thefreakandthehair's spicy six winter prompt challenge, my steddie hallmark au!

read it on ao3

summary

After a family secret threatens the upstanding Harrington name, Steve is forced to leave Hawkins right after highschool. Life carries on without him, The Party defeats Vecna and the gates close, and ten years pass. Then, Otis Harrington dies and leaves Steve the Carnation Inn. With Christmas fast approaching, business man Steve must return to Hawkins and fix it up to sell. But coming home comes with guilt, trauma, and grappling with his identity in the Harrington family, and the family secret that tore him away from the one person who may have understood what he was going through. Add in a dilapidated inn, a snarky handyman, a meddling gang of no-longer-kids, and a little bit of Christmas Magic, and everything Steve has fought so hard to build is suddenly threatening to crumble around him.

chapter one: boys don't cry

“Umm. Mr. Harrington?”

Steve groaned, and scrubbed a hand over his face as he looked up from the screen in front of him, immediately losing track of the numbers swimming across the screen. “Candice,” he said, slow as he tried to keep the anger out of his voice. “I told you to hold all my calls. I need to get these reports done and I just don’t have time.”

Candice shuffled, nervously, in the doorway. He couldn’t fault her too much, truthfully. She was one of those perpetually slightly nervous girls, flighty and a little bouncey, but she was a good assistant. One time, when someone had tried to barge in unannounced, she held on to the doorframe so tightly to stop them that she’d almost broken a nail. And when his brain hit the point where the numbers mixed up more than usual, if he asked, she’d read them out to him, careful and slow, with no judgment whatsoever. “I know,” she said, and let out a sigh. “I told them that, trust me. But the person is insistent. They, um. They told me to tell you it was about, uh, Otis? And they said you’d know who that was, and they won’t hang up until you answer the phone.”

Steve felt the colour drain out of his face, heart lurching into his chest. Otis Harrington, his granddad. Family, and even though his dad hadn’t talked to the man in at least ten years, Otis was one of the good ones. One of the ones who still sent a card every Christmas, still told Steve he was always welcome, still answered Steve’s calls even though as the years went on the time between them stretched further and further. He hadn’t seen Otis in probably three years now, the last time the man had come into the city and gotten lunch with them, but he’d been thinking about maybe trying to get back to Hawkins for Christmas. But it was always the war inside of him: half wanting to see Otis, to curl up in the giant arm chair in front of the fire like when he was a little kid, to listen to his stories and hear Otis’s big belly laugh, sneak drags off his pipe, and half the voices in his head, Nancy, bullshit bullshit bullshit, his father, this fucking town is only good for fags and commies, and Harrington’s are no fags and commies, and Dustin, who he could still hear through his tinny voicemail, why did you leave without telling me? We almost died and we needed you and you weren’t here! Good to know we mean shit all to you just like everybody else.

No. He knew, in his heart, he was never going back to Hawkins for Christmas.

keep reading on ao3

[dteamain]

yeah bouncey bouncey dream talk about being bouncey yeah

[mable-stitchpunk]

is Mari and Freddy really gonna have a serious talk in the middle of a bouncey house 💀

You better believe they are. XD If Freddy can stand upright the whole time and doesn't flop forward and crush him.

[wild-at-mind]

Why are small Pride event organising committees such trainwrecks?? My hometown has had two separate ones duking it out for who gets to do a Pride event here for as long as I've lived here, so at least since 2016. I never attend as what the 'winner' comes up with is always small and embarrassing. I think they have both given it up now (the 'winning' side of the past few years having blown all their money in a depressing failed bar project that they didn't have proper permissions for and was open like 3 months), so we get nothing. The next city over has 3 Prides- Trans Pride which is a separate and small event; a long running and well established Pride event that happens in late summer; and a newer Pride that is unconnected to the established one and is held in June. This newer event is the trainwreck. A couple of years, ago, almost immediately after it had first been held, whoever was in charge of their social media posted a quite manipulatively worded urgent plea for donations from attendees, because they had gone over budget and not made enough in the donation buckets on the gate. I asked them what on earth had happened in a comment and they said something about being let down by a company, blah blah...I don't know, it just struck me as incredibly manipulative. 'You attended this event already but your donations were over the weekend were disappointing :( so give us money now or we will NEVER hold this event again!!' Fuck off with that. Yesterday I was on facebook on a depression scroll and saw an odd post on their page. It was long and basically was heaping criticism on the way the event was held in previous years- they called it a 'glorified family fun day' (???) and said it had too many stalls selling tat and was not accessible enough- this was not elaborated on but I do know it had no steps, a mobiloo and a quiet zone so they probably could have added more detail on the specific problem there. Then it said that everyone needed to apply for free tickets in order to attend, on an app, but that people's personal data would not be used for anything and implied that this had caused concerns in previous years. It had not- in previous years the event was fully unticketed. All Prides in this city are free and you can just walk in and out. I thought this was a very weird post- as far as I know there had been no consensus that the previous events had been rubbish and too much like a family fun day. It is a family friendly Pride but was not child orientated and there were attendees of all ages. (There was an inflatable bouncey castle type thing present but hardly the main focus and I don't think it's enough to rant about family fun days, personally.) I think there was feedback from the first event about too many MLM stalls, but this was fixed at last year's event and the stalls were totally fine in number and quality. So what was up with this post? I ended up commenting expressing my confusion about the supposed feedback they had apparently received about what was wrong with the event previously, and especially about the ticketing system that it was introducing but talked about as if it was not new. Just went back and now the post has been deleted. Who is running this social media???

[drewoclock]

Graduation Party Every Year

Originally published May 18th, 2015

I wasn’t planning on throwing a graduation party when I graduated high school.  I thought grad parties were lame--every one I had been to had an awkward mashing of school friends and family, and nothing exciting ever really happened.  But born out of this aversion was the sudden whim to throw a fantastic grad party.

If I was going to do this thing, I wanted it to be great.  I had a plan to have my family over first and THEN my friends to separate the different social groups.  I hand-picked a bouncey bounce to order.  The Facebook event for it was pushed like this party was going to be an event.  And it wound up being a great time.  Twenty-some of my friends showed up and stayed a while.  I was a little sad that more people didn’t come.  I had a feeling that some of the friends I liked just didn’t feel like being there, but then again, could I blame them?  Grad parties don’t have a great reputation.

Come next year and I had finished a year of college.  I had really wanted to throw another party because I thought it was fun, and I had the idea “What if there was just another graduation party, despite the fact I already graduated?”  It was a dumb idea that was immediately rolled with.  It was done up with the same flair as the last one.  This one had a pool on location, a trampoline, and a projector with video games (or at least a good attempt to get one going).  It looked like about twenty-five or so people showed up, which may have beaten last year’s attendance.  The fact nobody was graduating didn’t seem to deter people, and some people showed up to it that I didn’t see last year.  I felt pretty good.

So of course next year, a third graduation party was planned.  The advertising for it got more gimmicky as my friend and I staged a fake rivalry.  I got the bouncey bounce I had always wanted: The bouncey bounce with a giant wrecking ball in it.  We also had a whole stretch of woods to play outdoor games in.  I had also vaguely planned the next two parties--there’d be one next year, and the year after that there’d be a big final grad party when I was actually graduating from college.  I was stoked.

Twelve people came to the party.  For most of the party, there were six of us, including me.  The next year, there wasn’t a grad party.

I told myself it was inevitable.  High school friends just weren’t going to be around the area much anymore.  I suppose I’d been too excited to really think about that.  Besides, grad parties weren’t even known for being that great.  But there was a sadder, more distracting thought.  Sure, maybe distance was keeping people from these parties, but maybe they also just didn’t want to go.  Maybe they had moved on.

I remember how sad I was when I graduated elementary school.  I cried a lot that day because I was going to a different middle school next year.  I would barely see all the people I had gotten to know in fifth grade.  I was very sentimental, and I hated the idea that people I cherished would just be gone in a flash.  But what got me through was the hope that distance wouldn’t destroy things.  That no matter where I was, a true friend and I could always stick together.  Then I made new friends in middle school and seemed to completely forget about that sticking together stuff.  I don’t think I’ve talked to anyone from elementary school in a decade.  And hey, why worry about it.  We all moved on.

This time in my life has been a little different for one reason: I didn’t move on.  I bounced between three different colleges and only made a friend or two at each of them.  Some of them were great friends, but they didn’t fill the void of those high school friends I was so sad to let go of when I graduated.  I had the same sentiment then as I did back in elementary school; that I would be able to stay with these friends that had touched my life no matter what.  And because I didn’t make many new friends, I found myself in a unique position: I remembered my own sentimentality.

And I watched as people moved on while I didn’t.  I found myself wanting to talk to old friends, and the more I started conversations with them, the more I was aware that they weren’t starting them with me.  I have many long messages about getting together that were never responded to; just forgotten and abandoned.  Friends that I stayed up talking with until sunrise now don’t even remember when I said something to them.  Sure, sometimes friendships can fall apart because of differences.  But this seemed much worse.  I was just disappearing.

Now, most of those elementary school friends, middle school friends, and high school friends are all graduating college.  They’re moving onto the post-grad world, and I imagine they may miss their friends from college for a while, and then make some new friends, and then forget to be sentimental.  But I’ve had the sad luxury during my college years of being forced to remember these old friends, and to wonder what it means when they’re forgotten.  That while it may be natural, something that made someone happy is being abandoned.  It just seems to be a trend that people don’t mind.  Maybe that’s just life, and at some point we just stop going to grad parties.  But maybe we shouldn’t.  Maybe grad parties aren’t so lame.  And maybe it’s not enough to have just one.

[nb-fowler]

MEET THE RAPPER

Hello there, the name's Nobody Fowler.

I use They/Them pronouns and I'm an up-and-coming rapper. I'm on every music platform, as well as Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok.

I tend to make songs about mental health, personal struggles, and conscious rap, though I also occasionally branch out into more light-hearted bar tracks and even into some horrorcore type songs.

I've been putting music for a little over a year now and am pretty happy with what I've put out already. So, let me show what I've done so far. You can find links to all of these in the LinkTree above.

ALBUMS

The Dark Tape — This was my very first album. It's primarily focused on talking about mental illness, the toll it can take on you, and how it affects your life. With songs like Dreams—a song about struggling to separate fantasies (or, dreams if you will) from reality, while also struggling to work towards your own dreams—and The Dungeon—a song about struggling with depression and the ways it can isolate you, which makes it worse, and make you feel like your stuck in a sort of Dunegon with only one awful way out.

The Way Out [Album Version] — This is an expanded and improved version of my mixtape by this same name (See below) that adds 2 new tracks, an extended version of one of the singles, various changes on multiple original tracks, and, most importantly, brings this project to streaming services for all to hear. (More info below in the Mixtape Version)

MIXTAPES

The Snake Sessions — This is a compilation of different tracks I had submitted to a weekly Instagram contest called The Snake Pit, including tracks like Back In The Days and Who's That Kid that had earned me top 5 and even top 3 regularly. This project also included multiple scrapped tracks, a couple freestyles, and a track I did with another up-and-coming rapper named L0RD M3RC.

The Way Out [Mixtape Version] — This is a project based around the feeling being stuck and desperately trying to escape. It takes on this topic in various ways, such as Broken Mind—a song that focuses on how neurodivergent people and people with various mental illnesses are often cast out and view as too different to be treated as true equals, and desperately wanted to break out of that—and even in loosely tied-in tracks like Outta My Way—a more bouncey, light-hearted track telling everyone to clear out of the way while I make a name for myself.

EPS

Psycho Path — This was a horrorcore EP that I did for Halloween in 2022. The only way I can really describe it is, lots of bars about violence and horrific scenes. Fun Fact: This project got me banned from participating in a tournament style rap competition after the host listened to just the opening track and found it to be too disturbing.

Psychosis [By L0RD M3RC] — This is a collab EP that I did with another artist named L0RD M3RC. It ranges from regular bar tracks to horrorcore type tracks.

NON-ALBUM SINGLES

Woke Up Like This — This is a song about dealing with depression and thoughts of self-harm. This was my debut single. It is no longer available on streaming services after I started feeling guilty for how I approached the subject, so I took it down. It is currently only available on my Instagram and YouTube.

How Far — This is a song talking about how far I've come both as a person and as an artist in such a short period of time, and giving props to the people who helped me to this point. This is currently my most popular song, with almost 3k streams on Spotify and over 360 total views on YouTube.

Smoke Shop — This is largely an aggressive, dark track based around dishing out "smoke" to various people.

[i-amtransexual]

Just had a stim moment for like 30 minutes, I'm talking jittery hands shaking bouncey leg and when I could stop doing my work full on up and down boinging and rolling on the floor.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

In an effort to get myself in the mood to write again I made this:

What Would Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way Do?

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

More Little Raccoon Crimes

lmao okay someone said they wanted me to write a follow up to this lovely fic right here (where Bouncey and I break into Henner’s house to redecorate) and im feelin the chaos vibes tonight so here you go 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Warnings: all of this is illegal and frowned upon. plz don’t break into anyone’s house even if it’s to leave gifts, this is pure nonsense and just for funziez, also swearing bc of who i am as a person

_____________

“We almost got the cops called on us last time! Why are we going back in?!” Tadhg was gripping the back of Regan’s sweatshirt as they crept in the backdoor of the cute little cottage they’d redecorated the last time they were there. 

“I have it on semi-reliable authority he’s out of the country. We’ll just leave him the dutch oven and maybe hide the suits he insists on wearing even though they’re too small. If they’re like hanging or something.” Regan shrugged.

“He could stand to wear the blue tank tops a little more anyway.”

“You brought a 5 pack, didn’t you?”

Tadhg smiled and held up a tote bag, “Three.” 

“I love it.” 

The two intruders made quick work of folding and setting the tank tops in a nice pile on Mr. Cavill’s washing machine. This little adventure was sure to be less time consuming than painting his living room. 

“Shouldn’t we put them away?” Regan asked, grabbing one of the apples set out on his dining room table. 

“Dude. No. That’s super creepy. Like the stuff you study creepy,” Tadhg warned, “Even, I, a simple humanities major, know that’s a little wack.”

“So no looking for the ill-fitting suits then?”

“No. Feels too weird to go past the laundry room.”

“You’re the boss! I’m writing him a note, though. Boy has to have the money for a good tailor.” 

Tadhg rolled her eyes as she stuffed the tank top packaging into the bag they’d brought, “Take that apple with you too. In case he decides we took too many liberties this time.” 

Regan took a bite out of the apple and grinned, “You do listen to my rants!”

“Oo! Sign it, ‘The Get Your Shit Together Fairies’,” Tadhg was peering over Regan’s shoulder as she wrote, answering spelling questions and making her add a comma here and there. 

They set the note on top of the dutch oven with instructions to post it to instagram if he baked any sourdough before they crept back out the door. Everything was buttoned up and done with no sign of Henry coming home early so they took their time until Regan took another bite of the apple.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Who has fresh apples in the house then they’re out of the country?”

They stared at each other in horror for a moment before scrambling into their car and flooring it down the driveway. They’d made it onto the country road at just about sundown and felt like they could breathe easy, having pulled off another well intentioned, but still very illegal, break in. 

As they turned the corner, a taxi came by in the other direction.

Regan and Tadhg held their breath in giddy terror as Henry Cavill looked them dead in the eye with the unmistakable look of recognition in his eyes and a pronounced wifi signal above his eyebrows. 

Tadhg floored the accelerator and they sped off to safety screaming at the top of their lungs. 

[jaskierswolf]

*slamming fists on table* Possessive Geralt in the shifter verse! Please! Maybe with some nibbling? That back of the neck thing really just Activates My Almonds and I'd love to see more. - Bouncey

@bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher Sooo.... this is less nibbling and more biting. 👀 But I already told you this.

Part of my shifter verse but this is pretty much plotless so you don’t need to have read the rest.

CW: 18+, soul-bonds/mating bites, biting to the point of breaking skin, anal fingering, blow jobs, hand jobs

___________

Jaskier nudged their bedroom open with his snout. Geralt had gone up to their room after dinner whilst Jaskier stayed behind to cuddle with Eskel by the large open fire. Geralt was sleeping sprawled out on their bed, furs draped over his bare back, leaving his arse delightfully on display. Jaskier’s tail wagged and he let out a happy bark before springing onto the bed. Geralt groaned and rolled onto his side, golden eyes glaring up at him. Jaskier snorted and then licked at Geralt’s face.

“Fuck off, Jaskier.”

Jaskier whined and nipped at Geralt’s ear. He flopped onto the witcher’s back and rested his snout of Geralt’s head, effectively crushing the witcher under his weight. Geralt huffed but let his head drop back down onto the pillow.

“Needy bastard,” he muttered.

Jaskier yapped, his tail thumping against Geralt’s legs. He licked again at Geralt’s shoulder and buried his nose in Geralt’s neck. He let out a low rumble of contentment, Geralt still smelt like him. It didn’t matter so much in his human form when his senses were weaker but when he had a better sense of smell, he enjoyed knowing that Geralt was so clearly marked as his. He wasn’t sure if the possessiveness was a shifter thing or just him… but he wasn’t going to argue. Geralt was his mate, his lover, his best friend.

He closed his eyes and let his magic loose. Fur melted away to bare skin and he felt the vibration of Geralt’s medallion against his chest. He hummed in contentment and continued his attack on Geralt’s neck, licking and nipping at the pale skin.

“Jask,” Geralt whispered breathlessly.

“Hmm?” Jaskier smirked, winking up at his lover. He was now straddling Geralt’s waist, naked as the day he was born, heat already creeping down his spine and prickling over his skin.

He sucked pretty little bruises into Geralt’s neck, regretting that they would be faded by morning. “Insatiable bastard,” his boyfriend chided.

Jaskier giggled as he rolled his hips forward, dragging his hardening cock against the swell of Geralt’s arse. Geralt let out a low moan and pressed up against Jaskier’s cock before pushing off from the bed and rolling over before Jaskier could protest.

“Oi!” he grumbled as fell back onto his heels, pouting down at his boyfriend.

Geralt smirked, grabbing the oil from the dresser and making quick work of coating his fingers. He pulled Jaskier down for a messy kiss, his clean hand cupping Jaskier’s nape, making him shiver. He was always more sensitive there. He whined into Geralt’s mouth, a mess of tongues and gasps as Geralt’s hand wrapped around the head of his cock.

“Hmm… s’good,”

“Yeah?”

He nodded, pressing his forehead against Geralt’s as his boyfriend stroked him to full hardness. Gods, he would never get used to this, but he wanted more. There was an itch that he’d never quite managed to scratch. They’d made love and fucked in so many ways but something had always been missing, an instinct he’d been scared to act on. He wanted to bite. Not the little love bites and bruises that always littered the witcher’s skin… but something more, and more importantly… he wanted Geralt to bite him, scruff him.

He was just scared. He didn’t want to see the disgust in his lover’s eyes when he made his request. He didn’t want Geralt to see him for the monster he really was. He whined again, writhing under Geralt’s touch. “Fuck, Geralt…”

“Get on your front,” Geralt ordered and reach for the oil again. Jaskier pouted but reluctantly shuffled on the bed, flipping their positions so that Geralt was above him. He closed his eyes as he felt Geralt’s finger press inside his hole, moaning wantonly.

“Hnng…” he spluttered and buried his face in the pillow.

A hand gripped the back of his next and he relaxed under his lover’s touch. It wasn’t a full scruff, but it was enough for Geralt to push a second finger inside him. He whined again. He already felt full, but it wasn’t enough. He pushed back into Geralt’s hand. Geralt chuckled and swatted at his arse, the sting quickly turning to pleasure and he moaned.

“Hurry up, you bastard,” he gasped, rutting helplessly between Geralt’s hand and the furs beneath them.

“Patience, love.”

“No…”

Geralt’s grip on his neck tightened and he melted into the bed, pleasure flooding his senses almost as intense as an orgasm. He was left feeling utterly blissful, he’d never felt anything like it.  “Oh fuck….”

Geralt released him quickly as if he’d been burnt and Jaskier panted as he regained control of his limbs. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Do it again,” Jaskier breathed, feeling rather fucked out but still desperate for his release. He rutted against the bed as if to make his point, letting out a wanton moan. “Please, Geralt… bite me, scruff me… fuck,”

Geralt growled and pushed his fingers deeper into Jaskier’s arse, brushing against that sweet spot. He cursed, a litany of swears and Geralt’s name falling off his lips like a prayer, and then Geralt’s lips were on his neck. It started out as a kiss, making Jaskier shudder. He panted and begged for more. Geralt hummed and nipped him gently, simultaneously pressing a third finger inside him.

“Oh cock!” Jaskier panted.

Geralt just laughed, another kiss to Jaskier’s neck. “Not yet.”

“Oh fuck off,” Jaskier panted. He had half a mind to roll them back over and fuck himself on Geralt’s delightfully large cock, but before he could Geralt bit down.

He keened, the pain shooting through him and he once again melted into the bed, a mess of limbs. He babbled wordlessly as Geralt fucked him with his fingers, teeth still latched on to his neck. He completely blacked out, overwhelmed with the sudden burst of pleasure that hit him, knocking him flat.

He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but he couldn’t have been long, Geralt was still nuzzling his neck, fingers trailing down the length of his spine. The bed was a mess underneath him, the furs matted with his cum…

And Geralt hadn’t even touched him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, shivering as Geralt continued to stroke patterns onto his back.

“Hmm, you’re back?” Geralt teased.

“Mhmm…” he hummed and rolled over, narrowly avoiding the mess he’d made. There was a smear of blood on the corner of Geralt’s mouth, but the witcher looked unbearably smug. Jaskier rolled his eyes and pulled Geralt into a kiss, the taste of his blood on his tongue mildly off-putting but he didn’t care. “You enjoyed that too much,” he murmured against Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm… like seeing that you’re mine.”

Jaskier grinned up at Geralt. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

Jaskier’s tongue flicked out to lick his lips. Then it was his turn to attack. His teeth sank into Geralt’s neck, earning a long, drawn-out moan from his witcher. Something shifted inside of him, like a dam breaking, and emotions flooded through him. He could feel a pain in his neck shadowing where he was biting Geralt, and his cock ached, desperate for release. He pulled off with a gasp. Geralt was staring back at him wide eyed.

“What was that?”

Jaskier swallowed, wincing as his fingers brushed the bite on the back of his own neck.

“I bit you?”

Geralt shook his head roughly. “Not that.”

“I. I don’t know?” Jaskier stammered, licking at his lips. Geralt’s erection was starting to soften and Jaskier growled, not wanting to leave his mate wanting. “Talk after?” his fingers brushed against Geralt’s nipples and he gasped as the sensation echoed on his own body. He grinned and kissed Geralt’s chest, licking and nipping at Geralt’s nipples, his hands gripping into Geralt’s arse.

His own cock twitched as Geralt filled out once more. He pushed his mate back onto the bed and continued his quest to cover as much of Geralt’s body in kisses. Every scar was caught under his lips, giggling as Geralt’s abs flexed under his lips. “So beautiful, my darling mate.”

He could feel Geralt’s arousal as if it was his own, and oh wasn’t that fun! He had no idea what had happened but… he was rather happy with the results. “Jask,” Geralt gasped as he bit into the sensitive flesh of Geralt’s thighs.

After years together he had a pretty good idea of what his boyfriend enjoyed but this was different. He could feel it. He let the tingles of pleasure guide him as he licked a stripe up Geralt’s cock and then took him into his mouth. He hummed as he worked, sucking and licking at his lover’s cock until Geralt was a panting mess underneath him. Geralt’s hand pulled at his hair and he glanced up to wink at his mate without stopping. He was driven by the desire to please his mate, his lover, his Geralt, he couldn’t stop. His own cock was already hard and leaking, Geralt’s pleasure rippling through his body. He moaned loudly and took himself in hand, stroking himself as Geralt bucked off the bed and came. Jaskier pulled back slightly, swallowing as much as he could. Geralt’s orgasm triggered his own, less intense than before. He gasped, biting down into the soft scarred skin of Geralt’s leg as he came over his hand. Geralt collapsed under him and Jaskier buried his face between his mate’s thighs.

He hummed happily, shifting without thinking into a cat. He stretched out, his tail flicking out behind him and padded up Geralt’s chest. He nuzzled at the bite mark on Geralt’s neck that was already healing, a pink scar forming where the skin had knitted back together. Jaskier nipped gently at the scar, feeling a swell of warmth and love in his chest.

Geralt petted him lazily. “Still need to talk, Jask.”

Jaskier meowed, clawing at Geralt’s chest before flopping down. He wanted a nap first. They could talk later.

_____

Next

[mawbwehownets]

so @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher showed me the wonderful darlingside music video that chris fleming directed and one of my first thoughts upon watching it was “hm. geralt playing jaskiers butt like a guitar”, and then later when me and bouncey were talking about it they Also mentioned geralt playing jaskiers butt like a guitar FJERGB

[knifewieldingenby]

Geraskier with the "tripping into your crush's arms" trope? Even better if Jaskier is the one catching Geralt. -Bouncey

This is galaxy brain and I am so here for it, thanks for the prompt darling!

As a general rule, Geralt didn’t trip unless he was severely injured. Which he wasn’t. He hadn’t seen Jaskier since they parted ways for the winter, and seeing him across the tavern felt like seeing the sun for the first time. He downed his ale, slid his mug back on the bar, and made his way across the room where Jaskier was talking to a beautiful young woman who was dressed in typical bard clothing. His smile was bright and engaging, and Geralt wanted nothing more than to see that smile turned on him. 

As he got closer he hesitated; should he interrupt their conversation? But maybe he could just stand behind Jaskier silently and wait until they were done talking before making himself known. Yeah, he could do that. Eyes on the colorful bard, he was so close when the impossible happened; he somehow tripped over his own feet. He let out an uncharacteristic yelp and fell forward. To his embarrassment it caught the attention of the two bards, and before he knew it he was stumbling into Jaskier. The man caught him swiftly and held him still, peering into his face with excitement.

“Geralt! My, what an entrance!” 

“Shut up,” Geralt muttered. There was no bite to his words, and he blushed. Jaskier didn’t let go of him and suddenly the tavern felt too warm, their faces too close and yet not close enough. Jaskier helped him stand but kept an arm around his back. 

“Is this your fearsome Witcher?” The woman asked, amused. 

“The very one.” Jaskier smiled up at him and winked. “I always knew you’d fall for me someday, dearest.”

[xgoddessoffandomsx]

@wrasslin-kpop-and-bullshit @ylove-bandaesthetics @the-iridescent-phoenix @axelwolf8109 @epickiya722 @daisy-birb @blueberryrock

More Hobbit BTS Facts!!!

Evangeline got so into her acting filming Kili’s death, she left snot on Aiden. She was crying that much

Lee tripped over the gold robe so many times they had to roll up the end of it and fix it digitally

Andy Serkis was the second unit director and directed alot of the Mirkwood scenes

They tried to use fake fish for when they dump it on the dwarves but it was too bouncey. So they switch to real. Ori’s actor has a fish phobia but he still went through with it and got it done in one take!

The dwarf actors spent so long in the fake webs they started singing, Aiden and Dean yelled at them to shut up. Martin laughed at their misery and got Peter his tea

Peter’s p.a had to get his tea so many times a day the actors joked they never saw him not carrying a cup

Stephen Colbert was invited for a cameo and they gifted him a replica of Sting!

Orlando’s son Flynn was not scared of the orcs at all. In fact the orcs pretended to be scared of him. It’s really cute actually

Lee and Orlando kept referring to each as “Dad” and “Son”

The “supermodel” Mirkwood elves were the biggest dorks I’ve ever seen. Dancing, posing, flaunting their hair

The goblin actors did a flash mob during lunch

Viggo was asked if he wanted to do a cameo but he politely declined due to Aragorn being twenty seven then canonically (Viggo was like fifty one) and because Aragorn wasn’t in the book

They flew to London for Christopher Lee because he was too old to fly to New Zealand. Most of the cast liked to listen to him talk about being a war vet.

Dean came in later than the other actors so alot of stuff had to be reshot. His first scene was an action sequence on top of Aiden’s shoulders and Aiden complained he was ruining his hair 😂