#bouncey's buddies

[kyiubi5thgear]

Ima back bois with these 2 sillies as spearmaster and rivulets pup, Claymore the Gelmaster And Tuna the Sturgeon! Tuna was found in the outskirts and the gelmaster...uh me and my buddy dont know yet cuz weve only found tuna in his survivors campaign, but anyway Claymores abilities is that he can create various weapons out of gel on his tail and back, he is very squishy and is immune to fall damage, he also sticks on walls and is very bouncey, Tuna takes more after rivulet though, as theyre fast and agile and also have a special ability called strong tail which is when he charges up an attack with his tail in a fixed position, and lunge forward to flick and possibly kill the opponent, based him off big fin tuna andsturgeon since theyre both big strong fish

Thats it for now, maybe ill post spearmaster and rivulets stuff next

[kidcore-cosmic]

hey buddy are you feeling any better?

Just feeling bouncey now :^

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

Jaskier's first birthday at Kaer Morhen? 🥺

"I tripped," Lambert stated.

"Fuck," Eskel, Geralt, and Vesemir all groaned in unison. Jaskier glanced up from his book, his Curiosity Eyebrow already raised.

"Why all the cussing? He's a Witcher, I'm sure he'll recover."

"He dropped your birthday cake," Geralt sighed. Jaskier's mouth fell open.

"My what?"

"I know your birthday is somewhere around midwinter," Geralt grumbled, tossing himself down onto the settee next to his bard. Jaskier's hand found its way into the silvery strands of his hair on instinct and the Witcher relaxed. "I'm sorry that we ruined the surprise. And your treat."

"It's still a lovely surprise that you remembered," Jaskier grinned. He dropped his book and opened his arms, allowing Geralt to snuggle up against his chest. "Thank you for being so kind."

"Oh fuck, the backup cake!" Eskel suddenly gasped.

"The what?" Lambert asked.

"I made a backup cake just in case this happened," Eskel explained. He headed for the door and then turned to glare at Lambert, "This time I'm carrying it up from the kitchen."

"No arguments here," the redhead shrugged.

Jaskier kissed Geralt firmly on the cheek and smiled to Lambert and Vesemir. "You're the sweetest pack in the whole world, regardless of what people say about Witchers."

All three Wolves went a light shade of pink.

That was plenty enough of a present for Jaskier.

[chrisflemingslegs]

For being so nice and cute, copy this to ten other bloggers that you think are wonderful. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful! 😘💖

:D <3 <3 <3

Love reading your comments, darling! Truly they are so sweet.

[kilodelart]

Dev Day 20

Never feel bad about asking for help. Reached out to a buddie to see if he could help with the map loader. He gave me one very important piece of the puzzle but it was still not working so I went back to basics and made it the code spawn bouncey balls instead of level maps.

I eventually got it working, however the AI was all screwy. Turns out in Godot navigation nodes need to be in the center of the universe. Not the relative center of the world, but the highest level of the program. So now it works again.

Anyways I've started on the mall:

[bouncehouse971]

7 Simple Techniques For Bounce House

The Bounce House Diaries

There is so much to believe regarding when you are seeking the very best bounce house up for sale today! We bought our first one when my youngest was just one and also had no clue which one would be the finest kid bounce house for our family. One of the most vital point to consider when purchasing a blow up bounce house up for sale is to discover one that meets your demands as well as your spending plan.

Exactly how old are your youngsters? Where do you intend to place your bounce house? Just how much do you need to invest in a bounce house? That bounce house, bouncey castle, jump house, and also blow up bouncer are all pretty much describing the very same thing! Contents, Top Bounce House, BEST BOUNCE HOUSE: Little Youngsters Inflatable Baby bouncer In order to streamline points, I have actually noted the finest bounce house in general if you desire me to select for you! After pouring over testimonials online in addition to evaluating out bounce houses with my kids, this set is constantly my first referral to any individual that asks.

Bounce House - An Overview

The dimension of the bounce house, the rate of the bounce house as well as the technological elements of how bounce house inflatables really work are very important. Bounce House Sizes, Bounce houses come in various sizes, if you are preparing on using a bounce house indoors, after that do your self a support, and also gauge your space prior to you begin taking a look at which one will benefit you.

If you have a little yard, you will want to desire to get a small bounce house so it is not scrubing on secure fencing or the side of the house and so on

Bounce House Fundamentals Explained

Most of the top quality bounce houses are a couple of hundred bucks. Electrical power Demands, All of these inflatable bounce houses for sale need consistent air to be flowing into them.

But the disadvantage is that you require accessibility to electrical energy. They typically have generous cables, however occasionally an extenuation cable is required. Keep that in mind if you intend on using them outdoors. The design of the constant air products has air getting away from the joints, so do not be upset if you can feel the air getting away.

Bounce House for Beginners

In enhancement, they are terrific for aerobic workout and creating gross motor abilities. Some days I struggle to get my youngsters outside, and also the second I provide to establish our bounce house, they are excited to obtain out there! We even established it up in the garage when it is drizzling! The vehicles obtain placed outdoors as well as our two cars and truck garage is the best dimension to let the kids bounce! Bounce House Add-on, So what else do you need when you buy a bounce house? Well, practically nothing, yet after utilizing these for as lengthy as I have, I have a couple of ideas on wonderful devices to have with your bounce house.

It makes it very easy to roll up as well as less wetness will transfer onto the bounce house. Second of all, an extension cord. While I claimed that these bounce houses generally have a generous cord on the blower, however having an extension cable helpful will get rid of needing to have the bounce house near to an electric outlet.

A home name for lots of, items by Little Youngsters are understood for their quality when it comes to toddler as well as kids toys! Their bounce house is no different! Everything that you need to supply your youngsters with hrs of fun remains in the box and also it can be unrolled once again and also once more! The Little Youngsters Bounce House has the blow up play structure, a strong blower, wind risks and also a storage bag.

It only takes mins to inflate and the youngsters are having a riot! This bounce house is best for kids ages 1-5 as well as also a couple of 5 year olds leaping around on it can be a bit much.

Fascination About Bounce House

Within mins of opening up the box, your kids and their buddies will be up and also leaping. There are a dizzying selection of bounce houses on the market, as well as they're not all created alike, so we made a decision to discover what's available. We had a look at what thousands of real-world consumers need to say concerning their bounce house, and after that we translated that mountain of feedback into a detailed but straightforward post.

[weskeely]

Locked down, No Rug!!! Repost from @ewokparty - Finally tried out my KBrakes Grips on my Gretsch kit for a gig the other night (before we got rained out). These things are nuts. Zero movement on this bouncey stage. As the vid goes on (swipe right), my phone slowly falls down from the stage moving a bit, but my bass drum is going nowhere. My buddy Wes at @kbrakes_usa is killing it. #kbrakes #kbrakesgrips #gretschdrums #drummers #drums #livemusic #videoleap

[iwannapushyourdaisies]

the people asking about ur icon being apart of porn oddly reminds me of when I drew one of my characters really happy and excited and bouncey and when i showed it to my friend they said it looked like he was having an orgasm and i had to go get someone elses opinio n on it cause i was lik e 'b-but it doesnt????? does it???'

once when i was in middle school i drew a christmas elf girl and i guess the skirt was pretty short cuz anime and shit yknow, and this one student points to her and goes "lol is she a slut??" so yeah buddy

but my icon actually does have a lewd alternate version it's just not the one i'm using fjsggabgksga

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

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

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

concept: geraskier national park au where geralt is a long-suffering park ranger and jaskier is their newest recruit whos mostly there to fuck in the forest with his fellow park rangers, and he sets his sights on Geralt

Jaskier shows up on orientation day with bright pink (but otherwise completely useful/appropriate) hiking socks pulled up to his knees and heart-framed (but again, totally up to par) sunglasses on and Geralt just... dies inside.

Because

1) This guy is totally Geralt’s type. He’s strong, sweet, super great with kids, and snipes back at Lambert every time Geralt’s brother/coworker calls him “Buttercup” instead of his actual name. He’s legitimately competent despite his giddy, almost lackadaisical personality. 

2)  This gorgeous, absolutely perfect man has zero sense of self-preservation when he’s not guiding a group of small children around the park. The man can and will find a way to get into trouble. He always seems to need Geralt to come to his rescue.

(From Jaskier’s perspective: Smokey ain’t the only bear in these woods)

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

I'm sorry your shift sucked, babe! how about some soft Geralt (dunk? took a potion? who knows?) waxing poetic about how much he loves the goofy little bard? 💖💖💖

Oh yes, thank you darling; this is exactly what I needed.

tw: catmint/drug-like effects, mood altering substances

---

“He’s so... soft,” Geralt says slowly, eyes shining in the dim light coming from the fireplace. Eskel is smirking and Lambert’s eyes have rolled nearly all the way back into his head. Vesemir and Jaskier are standing in the far doorway, silently listening; Jaskier’s sudden arrival at the keep for winter had been planned as a birthday surprise for Geralt. 

The secret stash of catmint being brought out to enjoy was Lambert’s additional prank. 

He hadn’t been expecting this kind of reaction from his older brother at all.

“He’s so soft,” Geralt repeats, hands drawing Jaskier’s outline in the air. “And sweet. And kind. And fierce! Oh, he’s like a wildcat when he’s angry. It’s beautiful, Eskel, you should see him when he’s angry. It’s glorious!”

Jaskier wipes a tear from his cheek and stifles a happy sniffle. Vesemir pats his shoulder approvingly and his chest floods with warmth and contentment.

“His eyes,” Geralt sighs happily, his expression dreamy and his gaze far away, “His eyes are the prettiest color in the world. Bluer than any ocean. Brighter than the sun. Oh, he’s beautiful.”

“Do you really think about me like that, Geralt?”

The Witcher’s pupils dilate with excitement and he rises to his feet in one swift motion. “Julek!”

“Hello,” the bard blushes. Vesemir pushes him forward, out of the shadows, and Geralt’s arms engulf him instantly. He’s crushed happily against a muscular, rumbling chest. He’s only heard Geralt purr a few times before, but this is different.

This is deep and happy and safe. Geralt pulls Jaskier onto one of the furs before the fire and wraps his arms around his middle, tucking the bard against his body. “Hmm. You’re cold. I’ll warm you up, Julek, and you rest. Thank you for coming to visit me.”

“Of course, darling. I love you.”

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

Here, have some of my stupid headcanons if you would like them! *hands you scraps of paper on one of those receipt spike thingies*

- Jaskier has FRECKLES, man. So many lovely freckles on his neck and back and the outsides of his elbows.

- Roach is actually very stupid emotionally, yet very intellectual. "I don't know why the Colourful Singy Man is yelling, but it reminds me of a scene in the Song of Roland."

- Yennefer is the world's worst Baker. If you tell anyone she will kill you.

- Ciri is the keep's best baker. If you tell anyone, she will kill you.

- Calanthe's favourite possession was a Sweet William bloom that Eist gave her when they were courting, and which Mousesack made immortal without being asked. It is now pressed in between the pages of Ciri's bestiary. (Swert William is one of the few flowers associated with 'masculine' traits and symbolises gallantry. She was his knight in shining armour.)

- Geralt's cloak was given to him as a parting gift by Vesemir; all of his generation got one, and it is the only piece of clothing he meticulously repairs.

- Lambert's gift was his gambeson.

- Lil Bleater is not, in fact, Eskel's favourite goat. His favourite goat is the one Geralt carved for him on the footboard of his bed at Kaer Morhen, so he would always be reminded that soft things do exist.

She is his favourite living goat, no matter how many times Vesemir threatens to cook her when she eats his needlework.

- When drunk (which wasn't often), Guxart had an excellent singing voice. He was actually a tenor.

- Lambert is an excellent whistler, which pisses Geralt off no end.

- Ciri's favourite smell is freshly picked pink carnations. Yen knows this, and made her a perfume from them, with help from Triss. (Pink carnations symbolise motherly love.)

- Jaskier didn't only go to Cintra to keep an eye on Ciri. He also went because he had a soft spot for Calanthe (and she for him, after a few years anyway), but mostly because Eist was a very interesting person to talk to. Having grown up in a skaldic tradition, where stories, odes and epics were passed on through speech, he was extremely knowledgeable about rhyme, meter, and holding a crowd in the palm of your hand.

- Ciri's intelligence actually comes from both her grandparents.

- If you scratch the nape of Vesemir's neck while he sleeps, he smiles. Lambert managed it once and he holds it close to his heart.

These are all very cute and sweet and I love them very much!!

Thank you for sharing <3 <3

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

Since its freezing where i am how about cuddling and smooching in front of a nice fire. Maybe wrapped up in some of those big fluffy blankets? Any pair

it is no longer snowy but I still want to write this

---

Geralt places another few logs on the fire, fanning and poking at it until the flames roar up into the brick chimney flue. Jaskier settles down next to him, two mugs of steaming tea in his usually busy hands. Geralt accepts his mug with a smile and takes a moment to appreciate Jaskier’s hands. He has long, tapered fingers. Talented fingers that can play a thousand different songs from memory, and that can play Geralt just as easily. 

“What’s on your mind, dear heart? I can hear you thinking from here.”

“Nothing,” Geralt grins. He wraps one arm around the bard’s waist and pulls him closer, until their sides are pressed tightly together and they’re sharing body heat. Geralt nuzzles down into the warmth of Jaskier’s neck, breathing deeply. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”

Jaskier giggles and makes a great effort not to spill his tea. “Geralt! That tickles! Cease and desist, you great brute!”

“I love you,” Geralt repeats. “Darling bard. Dearest Jaskier. My Buttercup, my Lark, my sweet companion.”

Jaskier’s eyelashes flutter and his heartbeat stutters dangerously. Geralt sets his tea aside and cups Jaskier’s jaw gently in the palm of his hand. The bard’s skin is fresh-peach soft and his eyes are startlingly blue. He leans down and presses their lips together, savoring the sweetness and spice of the tea Jaskier has been sipping. 

When he pulls away, the bard’s face is pleasantly flushed. Jaskier bites his lip cutely and smiles again, “You sap. I love you, too.”

“Hmm.” The Witcher beams, and pulls Jaskier even closer.

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

"Geralt, is it true? Do you really love me?"

yesssssss, now we’re talking!!!!

---

Jaskier’s head whipped around, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. “Geralt, is it true? Do you really love me?” 

The witcher’s eyes were enormous, their golden depths rife with confusion and uncertainty. And fear. If there was ever a moment when Jaskier thought he could understand what fear smelled like the way Geralt could, it was now. The witcher was practically vibrating with it, his muscles tense and his breathing shallow. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier smiled softly, his whole body relaxing as he stepped towards his best and greatest friend in all the world. “I love you, too. You must know that.”

The witch whose truth serum had started this whole conversation was suddenly nowhere to be found. 

Jaskier didn’t really mind. He let his hand come to rest on Geralt’s wide shoulder, his fingers digging gently into the muscles and forcing them to relax a bit. “I love you so much, Geralt of Rivia, White Wolf, witcher of Kaer Morhen.”

Geralt, overwhelmed, could only smile gratefully and hum. 

And kiss his bard directly on the mouth.

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

For a whump prompt: “don’t move.”

🥺🖤

Oh Stina, you spoil me.

tw: whump, fever, poisoning, angst with a happy ending

---

“Jaskier! Don’t. Move.”

The bard remained still for a long moment before turning to look at Geralt with wide, worried eyes. “What is it?”

Geralt took a slow, measured step toward his companion. “There’s a poisonous insect crawling down your neck. Do not move, Jaskier.”

The bard whimpered but remained as still as possible, watching Geralt approach in his peripheral vision. The Witcher was perhaps two steps away when Jaskier felt a brief poking sensation and then a flare of heat against the side of his neck. “G-Geralt, it- I think it bit me.”

“Fuck!”

With no warning at all, the edges of Jaskier’s vision went black and hazy. Geralt shimmered and swirled before him as the poison’s nearly instantaneous effects took hold. The last thing the bard saw before slipping into too-hot unconsciousness were two wide, concerned golden eyes staring down at him like shining beacons in a dark night sky.

---

Geralt crushed the bug between his fingers and flicked the remains away into the bushes. The stinger hadn’t lodged in Jaskier’s skin and for that the Witcher was endlessly grateful. He chewed up a mouthful of mint from his pack and purged the poison from the wound bit by bit. When he thought the bard was no longer in danger he brought his nose close to the bite and inhaled slowly. Carefully. Focused hard on his task. He pulled away with a relieved sigh and ran his hand through Jaskier’s hair, a comforting motion for both of them. 

His blood is clean and he will live; thank fuck. 

The Witcher sat down and crossed his legs, pulling Jaskier into his lap and cradling the smaller man against his chest. He hummed tunelessly and continued petting at Jaskier as he felt his temperature rising far too quickly; his fragile mortal heart was racing like a scared horse’s against the side of Geralt’s chest. 

“G’ralt,” Jaskier whined. His dark eyebrows drew together and his forehead wrinkled but his lids stayed tightly shut. “Hnn. Help.”

“I have you, Jaskier. Don’t worry.”

The bard’s blood may have been mostly purified by Geralt’s quickly applied mint poultice, but his body was still fighting off any remaining chance of danger. It was boiling away what little poison Geralt couldn’t reach in time. The fever rose steadily for several minutes before plateauing, leaving the bard nearly red-hot to the touch. “Shit, Jaskier. We need to cool you down or your clever brain will cook in your skull.”

The bard tossed and wriggled in his grasp, his damp shirt sticking to Geralt’s forearms where he’d sweated through it. “Hnn,” he whined. The sound was high and thin; the Witcher hated it. He would do anything and everything to never hear Jaskier make that kind of pained noise again.

“Shh,” Geralt soothed. He carefully picked the bard up into his arms and moved them toward the small creek that bordered the edge of the clearing. “We’ll get you cooled down and then you can sleep it off, okay?”

Another pained little whine slipped from between Jaskier’s lips and Geralt flinched, guilt flooding him from top to bottom. Humans were so delicate. He often forgot just how much Jaskier put up with in order to stay on the Path with him. Long days of walking or riding followed by longer nights performing for their room or for dinner. The bard was the talker, the charmer, and he did most of the emotional labor in their relationship as well. Geralt owed him so much; his reputation, the ability to regularly patch up his armor or mend his weapons, regular-ish baths and the supplies to care for his mutated hair properly. He couldn’t lose him. Not like this.

Not ever.

“You can’t die on me yet, bard. You still owe me five silver from that game of Gwent last year,” Geralt admonished, slowly lowering Jaskier until he was floating on his back in the water, his back and upper thighs supported by Geralt’s strong hands. “You can’t leave me, Jask. I’m not done learning from you.”

The water of the creek was cool but not too cold, not enough to cause a shock to a mortal body’s nervous system. The Witcher knew he had to be careful. Jaskier twitched in his hands, a dopey smile crossing his face. “G’ralt.”

“Yes?”

“Luh you,” he sighed. Geralt breathed in sharply and blinked. The bard smelled like sour sweat and sickly-sweet fever and a thin layer of panic, but beneath it all was the floral scent of Jaskier’s love. Geralt knew the scent by heart. It had been present when they’d first met, since the bard was the kind of person who just loved being alive, but it had grown increasingly stronger the longer they’d traveled as a pair. Like lilies and damp earth. Warm and gentle. 

Geralt could have identified it even if Jaskier was lost in a crowd of a thousand people. 

The Witcher leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Jaskier’s damp forehead. “As I love you.”

---

Jaskier blinked his eyes open and groaned. He tried to sit up but the world lurched and swayed around him. “Lie back!”

“Huh?”

A pair of warm, firm palms pushed against his shoulders. He had no choice but to lay his head back against his bedroll and make another confused sound in the direction of his caretaker. 

“You’ve been asleep for nearly two days, Jaskier. You’re weak and you need rest.”

“Sorry,” he whispered. His throat was dry, too dry for him to speak properly and defend himself. Too weak for him to ask Geralt to stay, to not leave him behind now that he was awake and still uselessly bed-bound.

The Witcher watched a single, slow tear make its way down Jaskier’s flushed cheek and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. “Jaskier, what’s wrong? Does it still hurt? What do you need?”

“Don’t…” his face twisted and Geralt quickly reached for their waterskin, tipping a bit into Jaskier’s mouth. The bard took several short sips before turning his worried gaze back to Geralt’s face. “Don’t leave me, please, Geralt.”

The Witcher set the water aside and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the tip of Jaskier’s nose, followed with matching kisses to either cheek and one to his forehead. When he pulled away, he took Jaskier’s hands in his, pressing a row of kisses along his knuckles. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

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

Hope you're having a wonderful night! Might I have some cuddling with Geralt and his full sized fairy wife? 🥺👉👈

you sure can, fam

---

Geralt was laying on his back on his bed, the furs smooth and warm beneath him. Jaskier was a comfortable weight on his chest, the usually miniscule fairy now fully human-sized and starfishing across his body. He could feel his wife’s nose twitching against his neck as he snored and snuffled.

He let the palm of his hand settle against the base of Jaskier’s spine, beneath his wings, the fingers spreading out to reach as much skin as possible. The other hand found his wife’s pale arm, rubbing up and down the soft skin, feeling the dark hair tickle against his callouses. 

“Sleep sweetly, love. I’ll watch over you.”

Jaskier’s wings fluttered gently in sleepy happiness and Geralt felt his heart fluttering in kind. The witcher closed his eyes and let himself fall back to unconscious for just a little longer.