#handwrittenhello

[cannibalisticcorpse]

22, 24, or 26?

from this ask game

22. “Your lips are really warm.”

Charles smiles as he nuzzles his nose against Edwin's. They fit on the sofa together- just barely. "That's wicked," he notes, and Edwin scrunches his face as he tries to pull back, pressing his head into the sofa.

"Wicked? What's wicked?"

"Your lips, mate." Charles grins that love-dumb grin of his Edwin hadn't gone a moment without since Charles broke down and confessed his feelings. He shifts on top of Edwin, straddling his thighs and sitting up as he peers down at Edwin. "They're, like, really warm." His face flushed as he trails a finger over Edwin's lips.

"Are they?" Edwin asks in the most out-of-breath way he could. "Why might that be?"

"I dunno, mate. But, maybe we should take you to the doctor, huh?"

"A ghost doctor, perhaps?" Edwin teases, reaching up to cover Charles' hand with his own. His other sits idly on Charles' hip. "Might you fetch one for me?"

"What? Call the Cat King in here an' have him check you out? No thanks, you've got Doctor Rowland on duty." He shifts on Edwin's lap, leaning down to nuzzle their noses together again.

A warm beat passed between them, and Charles paused.

"You're ridiculous," Edwin teases gently and Charles swears he can feel the movement on his own lips.

"Can I-" He swallows. "Um. My lips are cold... Could I kiss you and warm them up?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Charles lets himself melt as he presses his lips to Edwin's for the first time in over thirty years of wanting.

24. “This isn’t how I pictured our first Valentine’s day.”

"You fucking idiot!" Edwin screams, all of his frustrated rage condensed into those words.

Charles furrows his brows as his shoulders raise, his eyes lasered in on his shoes. He takes a breath and Edwin steels himself. This was it- this was when Charles snaps him.

Only... he doesn't. He turns his head to the side and says, "I didn't mean to get us trapped here." His voice is just as small as Edwin's made him and the empty white space around them seems to echo his words. His shoulders drop and he looks up at Edwin with teary eyes. "I never want to put you in danger! I thought breaking it would solve the issue, not open a new dimension! How could I have known this would happen?!"

Edwin squeezes his eyes closed as he takes a breath. "Did I think we'd be spending our first Valentine's Day together in a pocket dimension? No."

Charles sniffles as his tears fall down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Edwin!"

"I know," Edwin says, and then he smiles. "I know you're sorry, I know you didn't mean to..." He takes a breath and steps up to Charles, petting his hands up Charles' collar to cradle his throat and jaw. "I apologize for my outburst, this simply wasn't how I pictured this day. I forgive you, though I have nothing to forgive." He presses their foreheads together and they take a breath together. "I love you, Charles."

"Ah, mate," Charles whines and pulls Edwin into a hug. "We'll find a way out of here, alright?"

Edwin hugs Charles back, and breathes out an, "Of course."

"And, for the record, I love you too, also."

26. “This reminded me of you.”

"What?!" Charles squawks. "What do you mean?!'

"Well, it looks like you. Or, it reminded me of you, at the very least." Edwin presents the taxidermied fox to Charles again. It's held in both of his hands, and he'd even draped a gold necklace around its neck. "You don't see the resemblance?"

Charles tilts his head to the side, eyeing the fox like he was considering. "Uh... I'm not... I don't think so, mate." He reaches a hand forward to boop the snoot and makes a kind of pulled-back face. "What in the bloody..."

Edwin sighs. "You don't enjoy it."

"I never said that," Charles rushes out, grabbing the fox from Edwin and holding it to his chest. "I love foxy, actually."

"I should have gifted you something more romantic. Niko was right."

Charles shakes his head, petting the fox protectively. "Nonsense, you know me best."

"What sort of gift does one typically receive for Valentine's Day?"

Charles shrugs. "I bought you a shopping cart."

"Bought or stole?"

Charles grins, and Edwin takes a breath of relief that he wasn't too upset over the gift. Nevermind the status of his own.

[gameo-archive]

George Rexstrew for Nicole

Connect with your favorite stars.

"Hi George and Jayden. Thank you so much for your work and passion in Dead Boy Detectives. If you could each write/direct your own episode, what would you want to include? How would you direct each other’s characters? Lastly, any fun stories from set you want to share?"

George starts off with a Scottish accent and swerves into impersonating Ruth.

[kuwdora]

ao3 wrapped: 3, 12, 25!

eeeee these are good numbers, thank you for the ask nic!

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Some Kind of Disaster my TWN Season 3 missing scene fic with Yen and Jaskier is the one I’m most proud of this year. (Though to be fair I only managed to finish/post 4 fics this year so it’s a small pool… But still!) This fic hits all of the emotional beats that had been swirling in my head for a few years now, so I was over the moon when I got to the end of the fic and it was done and it was everything I wanted. Such a great feeling to see it into the world.

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

The number of WIPs are always too many. Prioritizing my WIPs is hard at the best of times, heh. I had maybe 6-7 active WIPs in the past year that I didn’t finish. On top of a few more new WIPs and ideas that wanted to be WIPs. Hard to stay focused.

As I said in previous ask, I have a yennskier nonsexual kink fic to work on. Since I’m still very much in witcher mode regardless of time between seasons.

But I still have my 20k+ Ciri fic that I really want and need to revisit. I have 30k+ more Jaskier fic that I yearn to work on. It's really matter of me poking @littlestsnicket and maybe enlisting some other folks to wave pompoms in my periphery to remind me that I want to go chasing that’ finishing-a-longfic/series feeling.’ I forever need to practice sharing more WIPs on main.

I may try to finish and post a little radskier ficlet I wrote in…idk I want to say March? And then there’s a Vilgefortz ficlet that I started last year, too that I think could be within finishing distance.

25. Did you receive any gifts this year?

I have a BOUNTY of gifts from this year! Like, so many. So blessed, everyone is having so much fun and I'm loving it all. Strap in, I got a squeeful recs list for you all.

Chantress did a podfic of my TWN Triss/Yenna ficlet Germinate which was a complete and wonderful surprise and is so, so lovely.

@astaldis did a remix of one of my Yennefer/Jaskier drabbles and it’s so great! It’s called Completion, very sexy feelings and hottness.

@she-who-drank-vodka-with-cats picked up a prompt I shared in the Smubbles server for some Meve/Reynard Thronebreaker awesomeness. It’s called the benefits of a prince consort. My prompt was: meve/reynard foot massage and comfort. ❤️❤️❤️

@sassaffrassa wrote me a smutty Geralt/Jaskier edging drabble called Stamina and it's of course 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Sass also wrote me Scavenger’s Reign Azi/Levi sex pollen drabble called flowering because robot yuri and sex pollen!!!!! If ever an an alien planet would have sex pollen, it would be Vesta. 🔥🔥🔥

@flootzavut gifted me a Jaskier fic called you do not get to hurt me which was a lovely surprise, lots of queer Jaskier messy feelings. I had a great time tossing the idea ball back and forth with flooty on this one when they were a little stuck on it. And the finished fic is so great and achey and I want to roll around in the Jaskier feelings all the time. Love you flootyfloots. I was bamboozled with love and utter surprise when I got an AO3 notification saying I was gifted a Stargate work. From none other than MSSalieri/troyswann who has been archiving their SG fic over the last few years. It’s an Elizabeth Weir and Daniel Jackson fic inspired by a prompt I offered Salieri several lifetimes and platforms ago. Salieri is an author and artist I have loved for an eternity, and I spent a lot of time reading and studying her fic when I was also first starting out writing fic. Trying to figure out how to do this prose thing. Really, just amazing…so much in a short fic. Reactivating the dormant Stargate feelings. The fic is called Unknown Waters. my prompt I had given Sal: If one tries to navigate unknown waters one runs the risk of shipwreck.

And then. There’s @ialwayscomewhenyoucall. Lira. Lira! Who I am constantly egging on with my Doctor Who Ten/Jack prompts in the @smubbles-etc discord server. Lira is just as delighted by my prompts as I am fucking excited to see what she comes up with. I’ve dumped approximately 200 million Doctor Who Ten/Jack prompts into the server this year. She’s been making me feel like a winner, lol. Lira is frolicking with prompts and I’m kicking my feetsies. ALSO Lira, have you made any headway on that Ten/Jack having sex performance for a paying alien audience prompt? Maybe for Smubble’s Wanksmas event? :D

Doctor Who Ten/Jack drabbles by LiraelClayr007:

Roses are Red - prompt: jack in lingerie. doctor admiring.

Black and (TARDIS) Blue - prompt: atyptical bruising patterns that jack is really into and wants more of immediately.

Different Body, Same Hearts - prompt: jack/ten reunion blowjob, the thrill of it all after so long.

Working together - a remix of my Refrain fic - Jack wants more. The Doctor is happy to give it to him.

You Can Wait - remix of my Syllable ficlet - Jack isn't allowed to come until the Doctor does.

From his knees - remix of my Reverence ficlet - Jack worships the Doctor.

Tether - The Doctor is spiraling after saying goodbye to Rose and his other self. Jack sees, and knows how to help. (not my prompt but lira's gotten so spun up from all my other prompts that I am still getting the goodies, ehehe)

The Doctor’s Song - Jack loves the sounds the Doctor makes. (not my prompt but still my joy !!!)

It’s a New Day - During sex, Jack asks the Doctor a question. He's surprised by the answer (not my prompt but still my gift, yes yayay)

❤️❤️❤️ I didn't manage to write/finish/post as much fic as I would have liked but I still had a great time with all the ideas and words from my brilliant friends. Here's to another year of awesome fic.

[oddthesungod]

do you have any speedpaints or posts where you talk about your art process? or any favorite brushes you use or anything? i love your art so much i just want to stare at it for hours and dissect it like a mad scientist 💖

Ahhhh I don't have any speedpaints that I can remember, or anything in terms of a post explaining my process haha, the art process itself can change a lot depending on the style of the piece I'm working on, so it's not something I've ever thought to sit down and break down in a post.

As for brushes, I usually use the default ones that come with Clip Studio Paint! But I'm also a huge fan of Devin Elle Kurtz brush packs they are gorgeous and especially handy when working on natural scenery!

[cherryjuicegf]

yennefer and ciri or yennefer and jaskier, call me?

thanks so much for this prompt my dear!! here have some yen with toddler ciri, i cried while writing this :')) hope you enjoy!! 💜

wc: 546

prompt – call me

Yennefer stares sleepily as Ciri's shoulders rise and fall in peaceful breathing.

She dares not move on the bed beside her, not even to shift as her leg starts to go numb in the same position. Afraid that the slightest sound, the slightest breath louder than the others would wake her. And she needs to sleep peacefully for once.

A smile creeps upon her lips. Gods, she's so small.

And she's been through so much. She's barely five.

She tries to think about how she would be as a baby. So tiny, so vulnerable, she would definitely fit inside Geralt's palms. A silent snort escapes her. No doubt. Geralt's palms are huge.

She tries to think about how it would be to hold her then. Somehow, it doesn't feel right. The way she holds her now, the way her little arms fit around her neck when she hugs her, sometimes it doesn't feel real. But it feels right. The right time.

She has to make it right, she will burn everything to succeed if needed. Ciri didn't have much of a choice after all. It's on her now.

She wonders, will she ever love her as her mother did? She's not her mother. Not in that way, in the way that she feels the same blood flowing in her veins. She wants to laugh. When did she start believing in nonsense? Her own blood never did her good anyway.

Suddenly the girl's breath hitches, and she moans in her sleep. Yennefer feels her heart jump in her chest. Her hand hovers over Ciri's shaking shoulder, uncertain. Ciri moans again, a complaint, and then flinches and whimpers, and Yennefer wishes she didn't listen closer. Mommy, she is muttering, her voice weak like a baby songbird, mommy, mommy.

Yennefer feels a lump forming in her throat. It won't ever change. A child wants its mother.

Gently, she shakes Ciri's shoulder. "Ciri, wake up," she whispers, ever so faintly, and maybe she should have been used to the nightmares by now, maybe, but the way the girl's face twists with tears makes her heart weep. "Wake up, child, I'm here."

She doesn't know what the fact that she's here means. It has to mean something.

She shakes again, a little more firmly, and Ciri flinches and opens her welled eyes, looking up at her. Her eyes widen for a moment, then a thin whine escapes her lips and she jolts up, falling in Yennefer's arms. "Mommy, a dream..."

For the barest of seconds, for as long as she dares to go without hugging her back, Yennefer freezes. A child wants its mother.

Her.

Slowly, as though she will break the bubble of magic, she wraps her arms around Ciri's back and holds her tight as the girl sobs in her shoulder. "Shh, hush, dear," she whispers shakily and, on instinct, her voice finds a melody, an old lullaby she doesn't remember where she heard first. Silently, she sings.

Ciri slumps in her arms, her little body still shaking with some last sobs. Yennefer caresses her head as it rests on her shouder.

"Shh," she says again and when did she start crying? She leans her head on Ciri's, closing her eyes, and through her tears, she smiles. "Mommy is here."

[lothlaer]

hey loth whatever you do DON’T think about jaskier peeling and sharing an orange with yennefer, laughing when juice runs down her chin so she smears pulp in his hair and he shrieks about it but she shuts him up with a kiss that tastes like sunshine

ok wendy cope!!! make me cry then!

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

touch prompts: touching 1 and/or 3 and/or 34, please? sorry that’s a lot lol but they’re all so good!!

thank you so much for the prompts! I decided to go for all 3 so here is a nice ~1k of yennskier pain with just a hint of soft - hope you enjoy! ❤

cw: mentions of injury, shock

1. touching foreheads + 3. hiding face in their neck + 34. washing the others body

It is the look in her eyes that is scaring him the most.

There is usually a glint when she is teasing him, a light that brightens up her violet eyes, a spark when she is angry, there is usually somethingthat lets on how she is feeling. It was hard at first to learn how to read her, because she tries so hard to give nothing away, but all it took was time, and he realised that no matter how hard she tries to hide it, she always gives herself away through her eyes. He can usually rely on them to help him figure her out, so he knows what he needs to do, what to say, how to help.

But there is nothing in them now.

Nothing but a terrible blankness, as she stares unblinkingly at the wall, barely noticing the movement of the cloth against her skin as he wipes away the dirt.

He wishes there was something more he could do, some way to ease the pain she must be feeling, but all he can offer is this simple comforts. He had managed to get them a room, some food that he had barely managed to coax her to eat, and something to help her get clean.

He had been heading north, trying to keep ahead of the wave destruction Nilfgaard were creating behind him, but then he had heard about Sodden, about the battlefield that had lit up, the fire that had raged and burned, about the sorceress who had stood high on the hill amongst it all and then vanished and he knew had to find her.

Walking through the devastation, the smell of fire and smoke and blood and death hanging thick in the air, had been one of the worst things he had ever seen, and there were many times where it almost became too much, but he had carried on, kept walking until he found her.

He almost didn’t recognise her – it hadn’t been the ash and dirt clinging to her face, but rather the fact that she looked so small, fragile in a way he had never seen her before, eyes vacant as she stared across the field, the glow of the embers reflecting in her eyes. He had lifted her gently, doing his best to avoid jostling the wounds he could see, and the more that were no doubt lying underneath.

She hadn’t said anything as he carried her through the wreckage, making no sounds other than a gasp of pain when he had stumbled over something, trying not to think too hard about it, desperately praying it wasn’t a body, of someone Yennefer had likely known, of someone who had fought beside her.

She hasn’t spoken a word, and Jaskier is starting to get worried, but he cannot think of anything to say. For all his words, there is nothing that he can think of that will offer any comfort for the horror she saw, for what she had to do, for what she lost.

And, so, he doesn’t say anything either.

He rinses the cloth in the water again, wrings it out before bringing it back to wipe at her arms. This he can do, he knows. If he just gets her clean, then he can treat her wounds and then she can heal and they can move on and he can—

His thoughts are cut off when a hand bats his away, knocking the cloth from his hand. He looks up to see Yennefer staring at her hands, trembling and her breaths starting to quicken.

“Yennefer,” he says gently, his voice sounding like how it was when he used to try and calm Roach when she got spooked. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

She looks up at the sound of his voice and the eyes were which were empty only moments ago are now full again; he can see the pain and the confusion and the anger and the fear in them, along with so many other things, and the force of it all knocks the breath out of him.

She looks so young, he thinks, and he can see her in his minds eye now, as that little farm girl that was whisked away to Aretuza. She looks small and vulnerable in a way that Yennefer of Vengeberg isn’t , and he knows that he might be the only person that has ever seen her like this, so raw and open, all the emotions she works so hard to hide, spilling out of her.

There is a rush of feeling inside his chest, something that he cannot put a name to quite yet, but he feels like he suddenly understands her, and he knows what to do.

She is shaking, gasping like there isn’t enough air, and she looks like she could shatter any second. He reaches out and takes her hand in his, cradling it gently against his chest, feeling the heat of the burns through his shirt.

“Just breathe with me,” he says quietly, and takes a deep breath and holds it, waiting for her to do the same.

He isn’t sure how long they sit there, just breathing together, and he isn’t sure how they end up sat like this, so close with foreheads resting against each other, Yennefers hand still between them, hovering just over his heart. Her eyes have slipped closed, and the shaking has lessened, but he can still feel the faint tremor running through her.

“I – we – I tried—” she starts, but is cut off by a sharp cough that rattles through her. Her voice is hoarse and rough, and he remembers hearing about the screams that was heard in the battle, a scream made of pain and anger and power that seemed to echo across the entire Continent.

“Don’t try and talk. It’s okay,” he shushes her, figuring out how best to move her so that he can fetch a cup of water for her, when he sees the tears begin to fill her eyes.

He shifts them, so that her head can rest where his neck meets his shoulder, and wraps his arms around her as his shirt grows damp.

Something has shifted, between them in this room, but also in the world, and the overwhelming feeling that life is never going to be quite the same. Something is coming, something that will probably bring more darkness and more pain.

He isn’t certain of what exactly the future will bring, but he does know, that he is exactly where he is supposed to be.

send me a touch prompt!

[avotuli]

hi!! i love your art so much, the backgrounds are always stunning 😍 i wanted to ask what program/brush you use?

hi and thank you!!

the program is Affinity Designer, for brushes I use DAUB Pigmento, some stuff over from Retro Supply and the program default spray paints ✨