doesntsing | open post

“Susie is my manager,” Midge replies. In all fairness, Jaskier, you haven’t asked about her friends and family. He may get to meet Susie on Friday. Just imagining the two of them together is hilarious.

“Oh, you’ve decided that, have you?” She matches his playful tone. A dance is fine, though the assumption of it is forward. Jaskier clearly has no problem going after what he wants.

Pleased that he has picked out some shirts, Midge starts to look at slacks. She eyes his waist in order to estimate his size - thin, but not scrawny. Smaller than Joel. Yes, the pants will be in boring colors: black, tan. Midge picks up a navy one too, continuing the blue theme. “Most men here don’t want to look fancy and pretty,” she says, then looks at the shirts he’s indicating. “Yes, those are casual. They might be a bit warm for summer, but you can save them for fall.”

"Ah, right. They told me about those." Many bars told him to get a manager, and Jaskier isn't sure he likes the idea. He doesn't want another person managing his career. But with all the bureaucracy this world seems to have, he understands how the job came into existence. "It sounded like you really value her opinion. I take it she's been good to you so far?"

If black dresses have gotten her gigs, then Jaskier isn't sure he's allowed to complain much (but he'll do it anyway). They already talked about the uphill battle after all. At least Midge leaves the black on the stage, so that already puts her ahead of certain friends of his.

Plain pants he can deal with, since usually the tops and jackets are the stars. He does wish they came in more colors and remembers his own ensembles in gold and blue quite fondly, but it's fine. Since they've got the informal things covered and she approved of the yellow vest before, he picks an extra white dress shirt and what he needs to accessorize: a vest and cravats. It's then that he remembers the ties, which do seem to come in a variety of patterns. Maybe he should start a collection.

He grabs a purple one and hangs it around his neck before offering the tips to Midge. "Another thing for me to learn. Would you do me the honors?"

“She has,” Midge replies. “She’s the one who suggested that I could turn comedy into a career.” As ornery as Susie is, Midge likes her. She considers her a friend.

While Jaskier is busy looking at other clothing, she sneaks a navy blue suit into his pile of clothes to try on. It dawns on her that he would probably like bespoke things, but it’s easier to start with mass-produced clothing. She can find him a good tailor later.

Tying the tie brings her back to when she used to tie Joel’s ties for him. It feels like that was a lifetime ago. She tightens the knot, then pulls it up to Jaskier’s neck. “It looks better with a collared shirt,” she says. “Ready to try on clothing?”

"Then on Friday, I shall thank her for sharing you with the world."

He wasn't lying when he said he needs to learn how to do tie knots, but right now he's a little distracted. Instead of watching her hands, he looks at her eyes and smells her perfume, taking a step closer into her personal space. (Can she see the faint stretch marks on his neck left by the djinn, he wonders.) Sadly she's done too soon, but at the last second, he manages to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and winks at her before stepping back.

"The day I say no to that question, you'll know I'm dead."

Before they move, however, he stops to grab a belt for Geralt - black, thick, strong, with a simple pattern. He puts it on top of Ciri's dress so it won't get mixed with his own stuff.

Once in the private fitting area, he puts the pile of clothes on a chair and finally notices the navy blue suit. He can't help but chuckle as he glances at Midge and decides that pleasing the lady is in order. Jaskier disappears behind the curtain and changes impressively fast, a skill acquired after years of sneaking around with forbidden daughters and married women.

Leaving his feet in only socks, he comes out by sliding on the fancy floor and stops in front of Midge with open arms. The tie is in a normal knot and not a tie knot, but he can fix that later. It's not like ties need to be tried on for size. "Go ahead and gloat, you've earned it." Once again, his tone is teasing. "Please tell me I can put a brooch on this. Or do men here think that will make their cocks fall?"

She can’t, because she’s mostly concentrating on tying the tie correctly. That distracts her from Jaskier’s electric blue stare and the smell of his cologne. Midge can feel her heart rate pick up being this close to him. He manages to touch her cheek and ear when he brushes the lock of hair out of her face. There might even be a little bit of color in her cheeks at the feel of his fingers. Jeez. She’s acting like she’s 16-years-old. She’s a grown, divorced woman with two kids. A little brush of fingers isn’t supposed to make her feel this way.

Composed, Midge sits on the couch outside the stall that Jaskier has gone into and waits for him to emerge with the first outfit. A grin crosses her face when he comes out in the suit that she picked. She stands up and assesses it in a way that feels not unlike when she tries on clothes with Ethan and tugs on them to make sure that the fit is good.

“Broches are well-known to make cocks fall,” Midge says mock seriously. “But we can get you a pocket square to put here.” She sticks her fingers briefly in the jacket breast pocket, then sets about to fix his tie. “They’re usually colorful.”

Stepping back, she smiles. “It needs to be tailored a bit, but overall, it’s a good fit.” And it looks good on him. The flush in her cheeks is more prominent now and she feels a tingle roll down her stomach and settle between her legs.

Clothes tugging, pocket fingering, tie fixing - it's a lot of touching, and Jaskier basks in it. He's a touchy person in general, but obviously it's even more delightful when it includes a person he finds both interesting and stunning. Jaskier does chuckle at her joke and thinks that the pocket square isn't a bad idea, but for now, he says nothing. Just like before, he just takes a step into her personal space to pick up the scent of her perfume.

Maybe he should've saved the "brushing a strand of hair" move for now, considering they're in a private room. Before he can think of something else to do, she's stepping back. Dammit.

"Thank you. I've had a very talented advisor." Meaning her, obviously. It's then that he notices she's blushing, and his grin grows. It seems the moment is still on. "How about you try on your new dress too? Then we can make sure our colors don't clash. You know, for Friday."

Sure, that's the reason.

Midge gives him a look. “Is this a date?” she asks innocently. “You seem to have it all planned out.” Never mind that Jaskier hasn’t actually asked her out for Friday, nor has she said yes. She’s technically working. Even if he knows she’ll say yes, it’s probably better if he doesn’t assume.

She picks up the dress and disappears into the stall next to the one where he had changed. Midge emerges a few minutes later with the new dress on. It fits perfectly and she gives Jaskier a little twirl.

“I need to think about what accessories I have that will go with this,” she muses. “There should be a pair of pumps in my closet that is nearly this color.”

"Do you want it to be?" He raises his hands in a gesture of innocence, but he's grinning. "I just want my dance. But if the stage leaves you tired, I do not mind looking for another dance partner." He winks again, making sure she knows he's teasing. And flirting. Lots and lots of flirting.

While she changes, he looks for his notebook in his jacket and writes down all the things that ran through his mind when she fixed his tie (twice). When she comes out, he lets his eyes roam without shame.

"Look at you," he responds with clear awe in his voice as he puts down the notebook before approaching her. "Long and lovely stems of a rose freshly cut."

He slowly comes closer, giving her time to protest or move if she so wishes. Jaskier raises one of her hands in his, then puts his other hand on her lower back, making sure not to reach her waist to keep things playful instead of naughty.

With a spark in those blue eyes, he nods at the big mirror on the wall. "That's one pretty picture, if I may say so myself."

“Maybe you should ask,” she says from behind the curtain. Midge isn’t mad, but she also doesn’t want to be taken for granted. Even if there’s an obvious connection between them, she still needs to give her consent.

An uncontrollable smile crosses her face at his little bit of poetry. “Is this how you draw the ladies in?” she asks.

She doesn’t protest when he takes her hand and puts his arm around her. Their reflection in the mirror is indeed a nice picture. Without her heels on, Jaskier is much taller than her. Midge turns her gaze from the reflection to him, her blue eyes looking up into his.

"I put my feelings into poetry on all occasions, because that's how I like expressing myself," he clarifies. "But I won't deny it does half of the flirting for me."

With lots of pink and no heels, Midge is a gorgeous chickpea flower, and he makes a mental note to write something on that parallel. He returns the gaze without hesitation, letting a bit of desire appear in his cornflower blues. Seeing as she is okay with a bit of playful touching, he lets his nose brush hers for just a second before talking.

"Midge." They're alone but he doesn't care, he's a romantic at heart - so he lowers his voice to make it sound more intimate. Romance from him, comedy for her: "If I'm not a smelly ball of sweat when I run from my gig to yours, would you go on a date with me?"

It’s on the tip of her tongue to ask if Jaskier’s poetry brings the men in too, but Midge knows it will ruin the moment. This is a nice moment. Romance is surprisingly lacking in her life. She knows she will have to ask him eventually about sleeping with men, but now isn’t the right time.

She lets out a little gasp when his nose brushes hers. Her heart is racing in her chest now with his lips so close to hers. She tries to keep her composure.

“Thank you for asking, Jaskier,” Midge says calmly. “Yes, I will go out with you.”

That little gasp is music to his ears, and he hopes he can get many more out of her in the future. His smile shines bright when she says yes and he makes a mental note to call Elftown when they part ways later - he'll need the earliest spot possible.

"You've made this humble bard very happy today." And since they're in a waltz position, he dips her just for fun, laughing as he brings her up. "Thank you." He seals that with a kiss to her cheek, rather short but also rather sweet.

Edited (typo) 2025-06-17 21:09 (UTC)

The dip gets a surprised little yelp out of her, which turns into a laugh as he brings her back up. When he goes in to kiss her, Midge thinks for a split second that he’s going to kiss her mouth, but his lips land on her cheek instead. She lets out another little sigh.

“I should… change out of this,” Midge says, a little flustered. “And… you have more to try on.”

Oh, she looks so cute flustered like that. Another thing to try to get more in the future. If they weren't having a romantic little moment right now, he would write a description of her laughter and an ode to that little sigh in his notebook.

"I suppose you're right. Let me know if you need help." He winks before finally letting go of her, which is much harder than it looks. He just wants to keep her pressed against him...

At least he gets lots of little touches again every time he tries on new clothes. She is always tugging the jackets, fixing a collar, demonstrating the tie knot - and Jaskier loves every second of it. He loves attention and fashion advice in general, obviously, but this is extra special. The barrier has been broken, so he allows himself to brush her hands and arms every chance he gets, feeling the electricity in the air between their skin. It's intoxicating.

He's a fast changer so they go through all the outfits pretty quickly, and his good mood has him happily humming through the entire experience. Lyrics come out if it's an outfit that takes a little longer.

Once everyone is confirmed to fit well, they pay and get too many bags in return. Jaskier knows Geralt won't approve of this, but Yennefer will be on his side (because she's already done the same with dresses). He's glad that they work all together to have enough money to do this kind of thing. The fact that Geralt isn't a big spender just leaves more for the bard and the witch to keep their fancy styles. (Now if Jaskier could only have enough for a piano.)

"Shall we do make-up now?" he asks with his head tilted. "It should be quick, but I wouldn't mind if you want to take a lunch break first." He knows they've been shopping for a while and those heels look like torture devices.

Now Midge knows why she’s drawn to him. Spending time with Jaskier is fun. He makes her smile, especially when he’s singing to himself, seemingly making the lyrics at the spur of the moment. Midge is looking forward to seeing him perform.

Jaskier is right; her feet are starting to hurt from the heels. “Lunch sounds good,” she says. “The lunch counter is on the first floor too.” They can stop at the makeup counter before they leave.

As they descend the escalator, Midge smiles at him. “You know… this is the most fun I’ve ever had shopping with a man. Most men hate shopping and just complain the whole time.”

How they manage to get all those bags on the escalator, Jaskier isn't sure, but he's thankful for the bulk they create because they push him and Midge close.

The fact that he's the first guy she knows who enjoys shopping and clothes isn't surprising at all. But he can't help staring at her at first, waiting for something else to come with tension on his shoulders. Usually any comments directed at his love for what is considered female interests are a way to dig at his sexuality - he's not exactly subtle, after all. He knows what people think of his dramatics and his foppishness.

However, nothing comes. Midge is being genuine with that lovely smile of hers, a smile he returns as soon as he realizes it's fine.

"Most men think their balls will shrink if they own more than two pairs of pants." His tone indicates he totally understands her frustration. Been there, done that and all. "I'm glad you had fun - so did I. Not many girls like it when there's a bloke in a 'female space'." Hard to gesture the quotation marks with so many bags in his hands, but he thinks the spirit is there. "Does this fall under the would give my parents a heart attack if they knew category? Because if so-" He leans in with a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Let them know and bring me the details."

Things are simultaneously making sense for her and confusing her even more. He fulfills some of the stereotypes of a gay man, and yet Midge also believes that he is genuinely attracted to her. She’ll keep looking for signs that might help her make sense of him until she feels comfortable enough to ask him.

In the meantime, she snorts a laugh at his joke about balls shrinking. “I like having you in my female space,” she retorts saucily. People can say what they will about his feminine qualities, but he is breaking a lot of the stereotypes about men that Midge finds irritating. If they can enjoy things together, isn’t that all that matters?

If only she could silence the voice in the back of her head that wonders if she’s what he really wants.

At the lunch counter, Midge orders a Coke and then peruses the menu. It’s mostly sandwiches, burgers and a few hot dishes.

He laughs at her saucy comment, and wonders how far into her female space she'll let him go.

"Look at this variety of food," he says as he admires the menu. "Bless those cold boxes."

He orders a tuna salad for himself, since fish will always remind him of Oxenfurt. After Midge orders too, he takes a sip of his fresh orange juice and rests his chin on his hand, that twinkle in his eyes appearing again.

"How about a little game? A question for a question. The name explains itself."

She chooses a roast beef sandwich and some coleslaw. The waiter behind the counter pops open the top of her bottle of Coke, then sets it down in front of her.

She takes a drink and glances at Jaskier.

“Alright,” she replies. “I’ll let you go first since you seem keen.”

If there’s anything he wants to know, he can always just ask. No need to make a game of it, but that just seems to be part of his playful nature, so she’ll play along.

"Me first!" The gasp he makes is exaggerated on purpose. "You're making a bad gentleman out of me."

Just teasing, of course. He plays with the straw in his glass for a second before deciding that he may as well go for the obvious one.

"How does a lady with your style end up in comedy?"

She mentioned Susie, but there's obviously more to the story.

“Well, first of all, I’m offended that you apparently think that a stylish woman can’t be funny,” she jokes.

Her face gets more serious. It’s not that Midge keeps details of her life a secret, but she and Jaskier haven’t discussed this yet.

“I’m divorced,” she starts. “My ex-husband was interested in stand-up comedy. We’d go to the club and I’d make a brisket for the manager so that he could get a good time slot, but he just wasn’t that funny.” And that was with ‘borrowed’ jokes too. “One night he told me that he was leaving me because he was sleeping with his secretary.”

Midge is quiet for a moment. Even after so long, Joel’s betrayal and the destruction of her marriage still hurt.

“That night, I got incredibly drunk and went out to the club in the pouring rain in my nightgown. I got onstage and just let him have it. I was pouring my heart out, but it was funny, and it was… exhilarating, you know?”

As a fellow performer, he should understand that.

Fuck, Jaskier mumbles under his breath as Midge starts explaining. He wasn't expecting something so heavy, and part of him wishes to stop her and bring her smile back. It wouldn't be fair, though. It's her story to tell, and the least he could do is hear her out.

(Mental note: don't ever, ever tell her he's fucked married people.)

The second part of the story is actually hilarious, an anecdote worthy of an artist. But Jaskier keeps his face neutral, not quite sure of how to tackle this yet. He realizes she could've started her story there, without having to explain why she was drunk. Yet she didn't. The series of events is intrinsically bounded and she refuses to separate them - that's important for an artist, to channel those emotions, use them in their art.

Susie probably saw that, Jaskier thinks. She was right. Midge is going to go far.

"I do know. A thrill so high that naughty substances can't even start to imitate. Holding a crowd in the palm of your hand and being the master of their emotions... People believe that judges and kings play god. I think artists do."

Very gently, he reaches to hold her wrist, giving a light squeeze before rubbing her hand with his calloused thumb.

"Sorry I made you bring this up. I could've never guessed..." He shakes his head. "I was expecting something about a woman trying to make it in the sea of cocks. Which was what I meant, by the way." She was clearly joking about being offended, but considering the turn this took, better to throw some assurance out there. He does think pretty ladies can be funny, but he also knows the reality of the industry. "Thank you for sharing. That last bit? I couldn't have written a better prologue for a comedian. I wish I could've seen you. It sounds like it was very raw." His tone says that's a positive thing.

Whether she likes it or not, Joel cheating on her was the catalyst that got her onto the stage. She doesn’t necessarily make a secret of it and she doesn’t mind Jaskier knowing, especially because he seems romantically interested in her.

The touch of his hand against hers, calloused though his fingers may be, feels nice.

“I’m also a woman trying to make it in a sea of cocks,” she confirms. It’s been an uphill battle. “I went back a few nights later after a disastrous Passover seder at which Joel and I tried to pretend that everything was fine.” Midge glances up at him. “I’m Jewish. If you know what that is. It’s a religion and… honestly a culture.”

That’s another thing Jaskier would learn about her sooner or later. Hopefully, being from another world entirely means that he doesn’t have any sort of negative preconceived notions about Jews.

He winces at the story, understanding enough to know what happened. It brings memories of family dinners spent pretending that the middle child didn't like kissing boys as much as he liked kissing girls.

"You've mentioned several words I don't understand, but I got the idea. Holiday with the family, keeping up appearances."

A pause. His thumb stops moving, but he doesn't remove his hand. This was supposed to be a fun game, yet here they are. Religion isn't exactly a conversation they should be having during a game, and yet... Jaskier thinks back to what he thought during their texting: better get things out of the way now.

"I'm not a friend of religion." His face is very serious. "And that's putting it extremely lightly. I hope that won't be a problem."

So much for your fun game, Jaskier. Midge really didn’t mean for it to get so serious so quickly. She probably ought to try to lighten the mood, though maybe they should just put all of their cards on the table.

It’s the most serious that she’s ever seen him before, and Midge wonders what sort of trauma he experienced with religion where he comes from. She knows plenty of people here who have had similar experiences.

“It’s alright. Religion is a complicated thing. Mine is not the dominant one and our people have been persecuted in the past.” That’s putting the genocide lightly. “Respect is all that I ask for.” As for her parents? Well. That’s getting a little bit ahead of things, isn’t it?

“If it’s my turn…” Midge takes a deep breath, debating how best to ask this question and ultimately deciding not to beat around the bush. “I spoke with some of the girls at the club about you and they told me that I should speak with Brandon…”

Midge presumes that Jaskier sleeping with men isn’t something that he keeps secret. The girls told him and Brandon was forthcoming too.

“I, um… do you like women and men?” Before he pulls away from her, Midge tries to explain herself. “I’ve heard of that before, but I’ve never met anyone… maybe it’s common where you come from?”

Is she explaining herself badly? She just wants him to know that she isn’t mad or necessarily turned off. She just wants to understand- and be reassured that he really is interested in her.

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if she doesn't let him do the thing, lmk and I'll edit the tag, don't wanna godmode

its all good

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