doesntsing | open post

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.”

"Why, thank you." Jaskier wasn't expecting that compliment. He doesn't think he looks bad, per se, but he knows these aren't precisely great. "I hope the other halfway is finding something less boring. Men seem to be allergic to patterns and colors in this world."

It's been quite surprising, because in any other aspect, this world is the more progressive one. At home, even male doublets have colors, textures, and embroidery. Here he keeps seeing guys wearing plain shirts and pants, always in black, brown, blue, perhaps green. So-called male colors - macho colors. Not to mention those 'suit' things. Jaskier can admit that they make almost every man look quite handsome, and those ties have certainly given him ideas, but they'll all look the same fucking same. What happened to individuality and style?

When Midge mentions getting his hands on something, he offers his bent arm, but he won't push if she doesn't wish to take it. He grins at the mention of a private fitting area and gets ready to throw a comment full of innuendo, but his brain goes blank when they approach the escalator. It's not the first time he sees one, but they're still quite a sight.

"If I ask you a question, do you promise to only mock me after giving me the real answer?" He does get on the escalator next to her without much trouble, but he can't stop poking at the step with the tip of his boot. "Have these things ever killed anyone?"

He’s probably not going to be thrilled with the selection that B Altman has to offer. They tend to have a lot of the muted colors and patterns that are in style but he finds boring. Maybe they can find something to compromise with that fits his tastes and also looks like it was made this century.

Midge puts her hand in the crook of his arm. Ever the gentleman. When they step on the escalator and Jaskier asks his question, Midge bites the inside of her cheek in order to keep a straight face.

“Oh, yes,” she replies. “One time when I was working at the makeup counter I saw someone wearing a long coat get the coat caught between the steps. He couldn’t get it out and when he reached the top - zhhhhipp. Pulled him right into the mechanism.”

At the horrified look on Jaskier’s face, Midge bursts into laughter. “It’s safe, I promise.” They reach the top and step off with no issues.

Right at the top of the escalator, as if someone had placed it there just for Midge, is a beautiful red dress on a mannequin.

“Oh my God,” she breathes and drops Jaskier’s arm to investigate. “It’s gorgeous. And it’s a Dior?” She looks through the rack behind the mannequin to find her size.

Why did she bring him here? This is so dangerous for her bank account.

Midge doesn't mind touching him - it's just good manners and rather neutral, but still. He sees it as a good sign that all his flirting and innuendos on text have truly been well received; it hasn't creeped her out or anything like that.

The tapping boot instantly stops as she starts describing the incident. Jaskier's face becomes a bit white and his eyes widen. Thankfully, before he can ask any more questions, Midge reveals her trick. Jaskier pouts, but it's hard to stay mad at her when she has such a bright, beautiful laugh.

"As safe as someone accidentally putting monster guts in one of your cute hats?" He's just teasing, he'd never do that (to her).

The second floor is a full market of clothes, and Jaskier doesn't know where to start looking. He wants to search every corner and touch every fabric, although part of him wonders if he'll get too frustrated at the male options to go for too long.

"That is gorgeous," he agrees as he smiles at her excitement. It's fun to have someone as enthusiastic as he is when it comes to fashion. Jaskier follows her to the racks and his eyes quickly fall on a particular ensemble.

"Are these only for adult women?" he asks as he grabs this lovely pink piece. "Or would this be adequate for a fifteen-year-old girl?"

Edited 2025-06-16 21:57 (UTC)

“Not if you don’t want me to hide your lute, bard,” Midge teases back. Don’t try her though, Jaskier. She’s serious about her clothes.

Midge holds the dress (which, she discovers, is actually a very dark pink) up to her body. She loves it already. She’s not even going to look at the price tag. Provided it fits well, it’s coming home with her.

She looks at what Jaskier is holding up and is briefly worried that he’s thinking of it for himself. She breathes a sigh of relief when he mentions a fifteen-year-old girl.

“Yes,” she replies. “She will probably fit into ladies’ sizes, though there’s a junior miss section too. It’s appropriate for a girl.”

She speaks as the mother of a girl, one whom she imagines will be an absolute terror when she’s fifteen.

"Elven lute, thank you very much."

Since Midge says these are appropriate, Jaskier takes a new look at the rack while absorbing all the things she's saying. The dresses, at least, don't seem to be that much different from Yennefer's, although he doesn't dare to buy for her. He may choose something from the makeup section for her later. No other dress beats the pink one, at least not in a way that would fit Ciri nicely, so Jaskier gently hangs his first choice on his arm.

"This one shall come home then. Thank you." He then admires the way Midge holds the dark pink dress against and whistles to show his appreciation. "It looks like you've found your look for Friday. Unless jazz requires something else I'm not aware of?" A glance at her feet. "That is, if you can dance in those. I still can barely believe the height of the heels around here."

Midge nearly gets distracted by a blue day dress, then snaps herself out of it. “No. We need to go to the men’s department.” Now she’s the one grabbing Jaskier’s arm and dragging him in that direction. They’re here for him, not for her to buy clothes that she doesn’t need (but will look great in).

“I usually wear black on stage, but I can make an exception.” Why not? It’s a dark color at least. “I can dance in heels. Why do you ask?”

The men’s department isn’t as colorful or exciting as the women’s department, though they are in luck that it’s spring/summer. The colors are lighter and more interesting than they would be for fall/winter. “Okay… does anything catch your interest?” she asks as she starts to look for clothing suggestions for him.

Jaskier is usually the one doing the dragging, so her gesture is more than welcome. Women taking charge in general is something he appreciates (and that's putting it nicely - the right wording would be that powerful women make him horny).

"Oh gods, not another black soul!" No wonder she liked Geralt. "I'm trying to save my niece from that, you can't do this to me, too!" It still feels funny to call Ciri her niece. Just like he decided to call Geralt and Yennefer husband and wife to make things easier with the paperwork, Cirilla has decided that Jaskier is her uncle. He doesn't mind - he adores it, actually. But it'll be a while before he can say it without feeling those butterflies in his stomach. "Why do you mean 'why I asked'? You said it's a jazz club, and jazz is music, correct? You owe me a dance."

Indeed, the men's department isn't as exciting. Jaskier puts down his lute and the pink dress on a bench before he starts going through the racks, wrinkling his nose every time he fails to find something interesting among all the plain whites and grays.

The gasp that escapes his lips is filled with glee when he finds a very particular vest. Maybe there's hope for this place after all.

"Look--" He holds it against his chest. "It's buttercup gold."

Midge is certainly a woman who can take charge if necessary.

“On stage!” She protests. “You’re a performer. You know that what you wear has to look right to the audience and also needs to project a certain image. Trust me, Susie has worked hard on this. She’s going to grumble about the pink dress.” But she’ll get over it. Midge will still give off that frustrated housewife image that is the cornerstone of her routines.

“Why is it that I owe you a dance?” She asks, not recalling being a part of any earlier conversation where she agreed to that.

Midge nods at what he picks out. “Yes, but that’s really formal. Men don’t wear vests with brocade to go to the hardware store. What about any of these?” She points to a row of casual men’s shirts. “These have some colors and patterns. Any of the blue ones will bring out your eyes.”

Not that he needs to do much. His eyes are striking all on their own.

Edited 2025-06-17 00:54 (UTC)

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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

it's perfect! o7

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I’m now imagining Ciri in that dress lololol

YES GOOD

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