doesntsing | open post

Is that what your name means? Buttercup?

That explains the flower he drew on the paper. She’ll probably stick with ‘Jaskier’ though.

She doesn't mock him for it, which continues to prove how open-minded she is. He can't wait to hear all the things she has to complain about during her act.

Indeed. A beautiful yet poisonous flower. Perfect name for a handsome poet with a silver tongue. Do you know what "Midge" means?

A man named ‘Buttercup’ is kind of ridiculous, but Midge guesses that he didn’t pick it. Plus she has better manners than to mock him.

Are you trying to use that silver tongue on me?

Feel free to run with that one, Jaskier.

A blood-sucking fly.

Yes, she’s serious. How it became a nickname for women… actually, a man probably came up with it.

But that’s technically a nickname. My real name is Miriam.

It's his turn to squint at the screen as he wonders if she's flirting back or setting up a bit of a trap to mess with him. As convenient as he finds these devices, the lack of tone and body language can sometimes make it hard to understand the messages.

Would you want me to?

The fly thing - it has to be a joke, right? Judging by the message that follows, it seems it isn't. Jaskier stares with an open mouth and realizes it'll be hard to tease Geralt for calling all his horses "roach" after this much worse naming idea.

Miriam is a lovely name. Yet you prefer Midge, regardless of its foul meaning?

As bold as Midge can be in person, there’s something about sending messages that makes a person feel even more brave. Maybe it’s because you don’t actually have to see the other person or their reaction.

Maybe. If you can convince me.

She is flirting back because, well, why not? He’s not a bad-looking guy. It’s flattering, being hit on.

I do. I picked it in high school because Miriam seems so formal and old-sounding. It’s a real nickname, despite what a midge is.

I’ve been told that Miriam means “beloved” or “wished for child”, but I’ve also been told that it means “bitter”. Take your pick.

Jaskier throws his arms in the air to celebrate, the only thing stopping him from expressing his excitement with a dirty word again being the chunk of banana in his mouth.

My witty lady has granted me a mission, one I shall take gladly. Now I can speak freely of that lovely skirt of yours and how I picture myself crawling under it.

A 'high' school - that's Cirilla's age, if Jaskier remembers correctly. So she picked her name (or well, nickname) and did it when she was a teen - another thing they have in common.

I shall not take any pick - it's your name, therefore your pick to take. And if you like Midge, then Midge I'll call you. It's a cute nickname, for the record, fitting for a cute face. The meaning took me by surprise, but I understand why young Miriam chose it.

Well. That opened the door didn’t it? She raises an eyebrow.

I knew you were having impure thoughts about me when we were in that cell.

Seriously though, we haven’t even known each other for 24 hours yet. How do you know that you want to crawl under my skirt?

Lust is simple and men aren’t picky?

I didn’t know it was also the name of a fly when I picked it. I think it’s technically a nickname for Margaret, but that didn’t matter to me.

Be right back, choking on the banana as he laughs at her reaction.

Those are rather judgmental words coming from the woman who was ready to mount my best friend outside the police station. How did you know that you wanted him to kiss your hand?

Two can play this game, missy.

Young Mirian was right, it matters not. Your name is part of who you are, it's what represents you in the outside world - it must be what feels right, Margaret be damned.

She snorts a soft laugh at that response.

Please, I’m a lady. He can at least buy me dinner first.

Sadly, the only one mounting him is his wife, who you were so quick to bring up.

Did your parents really name you Buttercup?

And have I not been a gentleman?

His wife is a literal witch, so if you think about it, I was watching over you.

An exaggeration, of course. She's not wrong about his goals behind the wife comment.

The idea of his parents naming him 'buttercup' gets a short yet very bitter laugh out of him.

Goodness, no. You're not the only one who chose a name for themselves during puberty.

You have. I invited you not to be. But I am still a lady.

She wants him to remember that, despite whatever happens between them.

He didn’t seem interested anyway, but at least now she doesn’t have a reason to turn me into a toad.

Why did you pick Buttercup?

Maybe it’s not feminine to be named after flowers where he comes from. Still, he didn’t make fun of her for the fact that her nickname is a type of fly, so she won’t make fun of him for Buttercup.

Well, at least not maliciously. Teasing is never off the table with her.

Indeed you are. A lady with plenty of wit and things to say, things I want to listen to and things that make me laugh. So I assure you that my initial lustful reaction has already grown into enjoying chatting with you. If my flirtations don't take us anywhere, I'll still be happy to have gained a new artist friend.

And that's sincere of him. He already wants to watch her on stage, but he knows that if he goes tonight, it'll be too much, considering their date tomorrow. (Is it a date anyway?)

Hey, I meant it yesterday when I said you shouldn't take his attitude personally. He's not used to being flirted with, and he was trained not to express any wants. Take it from me when I say he didn't find you unattractive.

Ah, what I explained before wasn't mere poetry - those were my reasons. The dichotomy of poison hiding behind such beauty, which I believe represents the power of words. You're a woman of many a word too - don't you agree with my conclusion?

That makes her smile. If he’s being genuine. It’s hard to tell via text whether he genuinely wants to spend time with her or if he’s just saying that in order to get under her skirt.

You two talked about me?

I do. Should I be worried about your poison, Buttercup?

She’s going to have so much fun calling him that.

That would depend on your definition of "talking", since when it comes to Geralt, that usually implies me doing all the rambling and him doing all the grunting. And that was the case last night, as usual. I told the story of what happened, and when I asked "she's pretty, isn't she?", he did his agreeing hum. That said, I could've already told you last night that you weren't the problem. I've known him for years, I can read him like a book.

But even after all those years, it still feels weird to chat about his relationship with Geralt with someone he's trying to bed. Two different corners of his heart that could be awkward if they met.

Midge calls him Buttercup, and Jaskier chuckles, the smile on his lips soft and genuine. She's adorable, and his fondness is growing by the second.

Only if you plan to hurt me or my family. Should I be worried about your comedy, Lady Vampire?

A little joke refering to the "blood sucking" part of the fly that names her.

I see. Very flattered that you think I’m pretty.

Midge knows that she’s pretty, but she tries not to use it for personal gain. She tries even harder to never use it for professional gain. If she makes it in this industry, she wants it to be on her talent, not because she slept with someone.

Only if you have no sense of humor.

I write bits about the people I know, but I think it’s pretty early in our friendship for you to be the subject of one yet.

You’ll have to wait if you want me to suck you dry.

Double entendre very much intended.

Good. Because you're stunning.

Bits about people she knows, huh? Now he's even more eager to see her act, curious about the juicy gossip. He throws his head back to laugh at the innuendo, delighted to see her play along.

As someone who writes songs about personal experiences, I can respect that. I want to joke about who may make it to each other's art first, but I suppose I'm already at a disadvantage considering the little poem I opened this conversation with.

And yet you've already trapped me in your thrall. Promises, promises.

You aren’t so bad yourself, bard.

You just probably shouldn’t stand next to Geralt too often.

It’s probably a good thing for Jaskier that Geralt is a) taken and b) not a flirt.

I don’t think I could be with a man who didn’t say much. It’d just be me talking all the time, to the point where even I would want myself to shut up.

Besides, she likes banter, which Jaskier is more than providing.

It was a sweet little poem. Thank you.

Are you performing anywhere soon?

Way to hurt me with that compliment! Who is being the poisonous flower now?

Her next words make a good point, one that Jaskier's friends have provided before. He enjoys banter as well, so everyone has always been confused by his relationship with Geralt. He wonders if sex and romance would've killed it, and his stomach turns. Better not let his thoughts wander down that road. It's in the past, even if a piece of his heart will never move on.

I've been told I don't know when to shut up, so you've met your match.

An elf-owned bar on Friday night, and the possibility of a little something on Saturday that is waiting for confirmation.

Geralt doesn’t even seem real. It’s not really fair, is it?

What he ought to do is help bring the women in to you. Some men do that for their friends.

Maybe I have met my match.

Midge has been enjoying their conversation. He’s a little less dramatic than he was last night and more down to earth. Verbal sparring is fun, but eventually she wants to see who a person really is.

Oh, I haven’t been to Elftown in a while. I have a gig Friday night… but Saturday would work, if your show happens.

No, it's not fair, not at all - which Jaskier has known since he was eighteen. He can't help pacing around the room, still trying to get used to the idea of people actually liking Geralt just from a first impression. It's good, don't take him wrong - great even. It's what he's been fighting for all these years, and one of the many reasons they don't want to return to their world. But it's also scratching too close to his own feelings, which gets on his nerves.

That idea of Geralt being a wingman, however, is quite amusing.

I'm perfectly capable of getting my own lovers, thank you very much. Besides, you've already seen his demeanor. Not exactly a social bloke.

She's been to Elftown and appears to feel positive about it, which continues to speak well of her open-mindedness. Saturday, however, is a queer bar, and Jaskier wonders if it's wise to drop that bomb now. It's really flattering to see her so interested in her performance, and he does want her to come...

Well, if she has a problem with his identity, then maybe it's better to get it out of the way early than have a bigger heartache later. Since obviously she's becoming less of a one-night stand by the second.

Saturday would be Rainbow Road.

Midge knows that she’s teasing him, but she doesn’t realize that she’s poking at any actual emotions that Jaskier might feel for Geralt.

I believe you. You’re very charming.

Better to give him an actual compliment and leave it at that.

Hearing that he would be performing at Rainbow Road takes her aback. She’s heard of the bar, though hasn’t ever been there, of course. Artists, as she’s learned, are rather free-wheeling and accepting, and she supposes that performing at a gay bar wouldn’t be unheard of for someone like him.

I’d come, unless you wouldn’t want me there.

Thank you. Takes one to know one.

That... sure is a polite response. He wonders if she got the implication and is accepting, or just thinks he's there for the gig. Once again, he's frustrated at the lack of body language. To be fair, though, she agrees to go, so obviously she isn't bothered by the idea of his people. That works for now.

I'll let you know as soon as I hear from them. What about you? I'm dying to hear your act, too. Is The Wolford your only gig?

It’s confusing. Jaskier was coming on very strongly to her - still is. It wouldn’t make sense to her if he was gay. Not that gay people haven’t hidden themselves by being with people of the opposite sex. She’s well familiar with that. That doesn’t seem to be the case here though.

Maybe she can learn more after she talks to the girls at the club.

I’m at The Wolford tonight and tomorrow, and then Friday’s at a jazz club in Midtown. If you want to come to that one, I’ll send you the address.

Jazz is music, I've learned that much. So I like that option! Send me the address and your timeslot and I'll try to work it out around my own gig.

After they exchange information, he forces himself to say goodbye. He's loving their chat and is hungry for more, but he's gotta start his day at some point and she probably has things to do too.

The next day, he shows up at the mall just two minutes late. This time, the kohl and his hat stayed home, but his long jacket and the rings are still on. The light green shirt and dress pants were clearly bought here, so at least he's not using his bardic assembly every day. He may still be learning the local fashion, but he isn't a monster. His lute hangs on his back, too used to her comforting presence to leave without her.

Jaskier beams as soon as he sees Midge waiting for him. "My witty lady! What a delight it is to see you." He does a quick bow to say hi. "What shall it be first? Food or fabrics? I'm putting myself in your hands here." He winks to indicate he wants her hands in more ways than one.

Midge is wearing a very Midge outfit, color-coordinated down to her hat, purse, shoes and jewelry. Jaskier is wearing… a lute. Fortunately, New Yorkers have seen everything and he’s not getting any weird stares.

Last night, she had asked some of the girls at the club about Jaskier and gotten some surprising answers. The ones who admitted to sleeping with him gave excellent reviews of his performance. One of them said he was overdramatic (obviously). Another said he sang too much. A third told her to talk to Brandon, one of the bartenders. And that was how Midge learned that Jaskier has slept with men. Apparently he likes both. Midge knew that people like that existed, but she has never met one, never been interested in one before. Regardless if his lovers were male or female, annoyed with him or maybe still a little bit in love with him, all of them said, without exception, that he was a fantastic lover.

It gives Midge a lot to think about. She’s not sure if she understands liking both men and women. The gay bar makes sense now though.

She grins when she sees him and assesses the rest of his outfit. “I’d say you’re about halfway there with your clothes,” Midge tells him. “Fabrics first, since you’re itching to get your hands on something.”

They enter the department store. “The men’s department is on the second floor,” she says as they head towards the escalator. “One of my friends who works up there has promised that she can get us a private fitting area.”

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what if he gets her on stage on Saturday after his performance

she’d come up with something on the fly, as she does

perfect. also I'm loving them so much omg

I love them too! Also let me know if this is okay