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Artistic Representation of a Recent Personal Tragedy

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Okay I’m currently furious that migraines are often so blindly easy to treat and I had to find this out myself at the age of 26 when I’ve been to a neurologist since I was 11 lol so I’m about to teach you two neat and fast little tricks to deal with pain!

The first is the sternocleidomastoid muscle, or the SCM muscle.

This big red section is responsible for pain around the eye, cheekbone, and jaw, as well as some temple pain. Literally all you have to do is angle your head down a little, angle it away from the side that hurts, and then you can gently pinch and rub that muscle. I find it best to start at the bottom and travel upwards. The relief is so immediate! You can increase pressure as you feel comfortable doing so.

Here is a short and easy video showing this in action

The second is a fast and easy stretch that soothes your vagus nerve, which is the nerve responsible for calming you down. The vagus nerve, for those unfamiliar, is stimulated by deep breathing such as yawning, sighing, singing, or taking a deep breath to calm your anger in a tense situation.

You can stretch this out by sitting up as straight as possible (this does not have to be perfect to work) and interlacing your fingers. Put your hands on the back of your head with your thumbs going down the sides of your neck and, while keeping your face forward, look all the way to one side with just your eyes. Hold that until you feel the urge to breathe deeply or yawn, or until you can tell there’s a change. Then do the same thing on the other side. When you put your arms down, you should clearly be able to turn your head farther in both directions. If the first session doesn’t get rid of your migraine, rest and repeat as many times as necessary. I even get a little fancy with it and roll my eyes up and down along the outer edge sometimes to stretch as much as I can.

If you need a visual here’s a good video on it. I know some of the language they use seems questionable but this is real and simple science and should not be discarded because it’s been adopted by the trendy wellness crowd!

I seriously cannot believe I didn’t hear a word of this from any doctor in my life. Additionally, if you get frequent recurring migraines, you may want to see a dietician. Migraines can be caused by foods containing histamines, lectin, etc. and can also be caused by high blood pressure in specific situations such as exercise, stress, and even sex.

If any of this information helps you I’d love to hear it btw! It’s so so fast and easy to do. Good luck!

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five four things you know and the one thing you don’t

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Apparently, Anya doesn't like spinach much, but Joey does a lot 😅

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2 very blurry cute moments from Lucca Comics stream in 2022.

The little and discreet joyfull gesture and the war against the buttons 🤣 (until he realised they were still online)

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#this is AWESOME! #the attention to detail blows me away #the daisies are my favourite #because of how some of them have purple edges #you should do the hood! I think you'll do great!!! #<3

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Valdo Marx, troubadour of Cidares. I just had to draw this man. His annoying loser personality captivated me. I hate him (affectionate)

Taglist under cut

@dearestdandelion @flowercrown-bard @jaskierswolf @witchersgoldenbard

Let me know if you want to be removed/added. Also I love you <3

#I love that s3 gave me a whole new bard to play with #the witcher #the witcher art #my art #valdo marx #the witcher s3 #flosimo

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#jaskier in this

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"Valdo." Jaskier's eyes narrow and his mouth twists with distaste.

"Julian, darling."

Valdo takes Jaskier's hand and presses a kiss to it, as noxious and oily as ever.

"I see you're still," Jaskier purses his lips, "plying your dubious wares for the gentry. How is life as the continent's second best bard? It must be lonely, with only your knock-off lute for company."

"It's called a cittern, you ignorant slut."

"Oh? I thought it was a gittern."

"Do you see a plectrum in my hand??? No??? That's because it's not a fucking gittern. Honestly, how you ever passed the music courses at Oxenfurt is a mystery to me."

"I fucked the professor."

"Of course you did! As I said, ignorant. And a slut."

Jaskier tries hard not to smile, but winding Valdo up is just too much fun.

"It's nice to see you making an effort though." Jaskier pats the forearm of Valdo's doublet. "Gold embellishments are so last year, but we can't expect the latest fashions to have spread all the way to Cidaris in just twelve months, can we?"

"At least I have my doublet buttoned," Valdo explodes. "Not undone to the waist for all to see! Honestly, Julian, I can see your clavicles."

Jaskier waggles his eyebrows. "Then the outfit is working just as I intended."

"You're disgusting."

"You're repellent."

"Your so-called music is an abomination."

"I can't even in good conscience call what you make music."

"You repulse me."

"Darling." Jaskier's laugh rings out across the ballroom. "Meet you in the bedroom upstairs after the ball?"

"Oh, fuck you." Valdo puffs up, then deflates. "And fuck yes."

#VALDO!!! #aaaaaaah they're so cute #I'm so digging their rivalry that is also hornyness #Valdo warms my heart and feeds my soul

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DONE.  For followers, this was the comic that I lost my script/thumbnails.  While this isn’t what it was originally, it’s pretty close and I think in some ways closer to the original theme of appreciating the people/moments that stand out against a bleak stretch.  With current events being what they are, I thought it was nice to write something on that thought.  

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this is part 4 of this

did you know that you can vote for the wrong thing?

"What can I tell you that will make you believe me? There has to be something."

Geralt's face drops. His earlier softened scowl returns. "Yes, I've been wondering the same thing, bard," he hisses, "because you keep repeating yourself and I'm getting tired of your games."

Jaskier gulps audibly and takes a step back from Roach, holding up his hands in a no-threat gesture. So much so for entering the safe zone, he scolds himself. "I may have worded that wrong, dear," Jaskier rushes to defend himself and stumbles as Geralt starts growling.

"I am not. Your. Dear." Ah, old habits died hard.

"My apologies. I am used to us getting along better. Almost seventy years is a long time, there's a lot of things I could tell you about yourself, or us for that matter. I'm just worried the more I talk the less likely you are to listen to me." He slowly took his hands back down. "People aren't exactly a fan of strangers knowing their very being."

"Strangers."

"In your eyes. You've certainly stopped being a stranger a long time ago."

remember to like and reblog if you voted!!!

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Jaskier leaves his last song in his will, not to be sung for another century.

A hundred years after the bard has already died, Geralt has a realization.

~*~

To love what is mortal,

Oh please ~

The mo~ortal one is me!

But see, but see –

Even a dandelion,

Is immortal…

… on the breeze.

So sing, ye bards, so sing!

Lift your voices up with glee ~

This continent will rem~eh~eh~eh~eh~mber me

Remember me!

Remember me!

Remember me!

Remember me…

My love.

My love~

My true immortal….

….love.

When you find my seeds,

Drifting along

Drifting along

On your unending breeze.

I loved you once.

Forever.

I loved you one, you see

You see,

You three,

I loved you once,

Forever.

So sing, ye bards, so sing!

This continent, this continent,

My love,

This continent will remember me!

“Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, you have been the most wonderful audience and you heard it here, you heard it here! The final work of the legend himself, Jaskier of Oxenfurt! Gods have mercy,” the boy swoops his ostentatiously feathered cap off his head and bows it his chest, sweat flush on his brow and cheeks pink under the glimmer of his green eyes and his baby blonde hair. “If the gods have mercy I have done the master justice,” the lad says, almost drowned out in the applause if not for Geralt’s enhanced hearing.

He is painfully different and yet so painfully alike that boisterous cad Geralt had met two centuries ago in Dol Blothana. But his voice…

Geralt had heard it, there in the song, the way Jaskier’s throat tickled when he laughed, the way his voice lilted when he went a half-note too high and spun it out into something pleasing anyways, the way his tone strained and hitched when he bled into the words and watch me burn, all the memories, of you. No word will ever ring quite as true ~!

Liar.

I loved you once, you see

You see

You three

“Good sir, there in the back!” the bard calls out, rustling up his second wind with a grin. “Any requests?”

Geralt leans in the shadows a moment while the lad waits in increasing awkwardness, and then he slips a coin from his belt and flicks it across the room to the bards delight as he claps it out of the air.

“Toss a Coin,” Geralt calls.

“Aye!” the boy beams, jumping back up onto the stage he had stumbled off of to swipe an ale. He swings his lute fore again and strums with unnecessary flare. Jaskier had done that too, as a young man. His movements got simpler as he got older, as his fingers stiffened with age and old scars not even Yennefer’s magecraft could completely erase.

Yennefer.

How many seasons has it been since he crossed her path? Three? Three seasons? Three years?

“Listen in, good folk, listen here,” the lad croons, teasing at the strings. “for this is the Ballad of Dol Blothana.”  

Geralt growls. “No,” he calls hard across the tavern. “Not that one.”

The bard falters, a string twinging wrong. “Ah, good sir, are you sure? Toss a Coin is not at all true and the written memoirs of Professor Pankratz decry the piece as the least of his favorites. It was even struck from the official compilation of his song cycles.”

Respect doesn’t make history.

Liar.

For twenty years that ear-worm was inescapable on the Path, and then ten more before the Ballad of Dol Blothana in the song cycle Of Witchers overtook its most popular refrains and reframed the true events in an ode to the honor of those who were outsider. Jaskier had been particularly pleased with it.

Yennefer had declared it boring.

“I’m sure,” Geralt replies.

“Alright,” the bard rallies himself. “As it pleases you!”

The ditty brightens the room, the crowd laughing at the aggrandizement the bard takes the stage with as he performs, exaggerating the fictitious events the way one would a puppet play. Jaskier would complain bitterly no doubt and then titter to himself days later in recollection.

“Did you ever find what pleases you?” Geralt had asked his bard once, when Jaskier was white haired and vain as ever and whining to Yennefer and Ciri about his crows feet and how droll the pleasures of a sedentary life were proving to be.

They had been fantastically drunk on elvish wine and giggling in front of the fire. Yennifer had fallen over Jaskier’s lap to poke at his cheeks and declare him more and more beautiful by the flask-full.

Jaskier had been squawking in protest, declaring Yennifer too fat to be borne by his dainty frame and requesting Ciri, brave warrior, to recue he, poor damsel, from the wicked claws of the wickeder witch.

Ciri had tripped over her sword. Yennefer and Jaskier had clung to each other, cackling, until Yennefer snorted and Jaskier inhaled wrong and started coughing wine out his nose.

“My brave warrior had been slain!” Jaskier had wheezed.

Ciri had groaned, rolled over to bury her face in Yennefer’s skirt and promptly passed out. Yennefer had slid to the floor, cradling her fair blonde head, and, leaning against Jaskier’s bony thin knee, shortly thereafter done the same, humming a few bars of Her Sweet Kiss.

Geralt doesn’t remember why he had asked.

Jaskier had looked at him, eyes bright with drink, sinking cheeks flushed, his grin as bright as ever, just older and wiser and carrying more secrets.

“Why Geralt….” He’d teased, and then fallen quiet, just looking at the Witcher before letting out a sweet sigh and leaning into the back of his chair, petting Yennefer’s hair himself. “…no,” he had replied, almost smug with it.

Geralt had been unsatisfied with that response, aware he was either being lied or it being true, neither possibility pleasing him.

Liar.

To love what is mortal,

Oh please ~

The mo~ortal one is me!

The bard stays in town ten days.

Geralt stays in town ten days.

“Sir, I beg of you, please, any request but Toss a Coin. Please. Please.”

“Forever, Long Ago,” Geralt requests.

The bard has already played the piece once tonight, but he is so relieved it is not Toss a Coin that Geralt pays him for that he leaps to his feet and spins himself into the song.

You asked me once,

Long ago,

But you,

You,

You,

You did not see~

The answer there,

Was three.

They warn of thee,

Of immortality,

But-

To love what is mortal?

Oh please ~

The mo~ortal one is me!

But see, but see –

Even a dandelion,

Is immortal…

… on the breeze.

So sing, ye bards, so sing!

Lift your voices up with glee ~

This continent will rem~eh~eh~eh~eh~mber me!

Remember me!

Remember me!

Remember me!

Remember me…

My love.

My love~

My true immortal….

….love.

When you find my seeds,

Drifting along

Drifting along

Drifting along

On your unending breeze.

I loved you once.

Forever.

I loved you one, you see

You see,

You see,

You three.

I loved you once,

Forever.

So sing, ye bards, so sing!

This continent, this continent,

My love,

This continent will remember me!

Geralt follows the wind south when he leaves, his compass arrowed by heartbeats. The Path is, as always, a long and lonely one.

But not one he walks alone.

He closes his eyes. Breathes in deep. Lilac. Smoke. Dandelion.

They find each other, three points in an ever-converging destiny on an ever-changing continent.

Some things always remain the same.

“You heard it?” Ciri asks, never having outgrown trying to sneak up on him on the road.

Geralt grunts.

“Geralt!” she protests. “Geralt, you had to have heard it! They’re all singing it. I can’t believe – you know what I can. I can believe Jaskier would put in his will to hide his last song for bloody century!”

She fumes and sings it off-key until he knocks her off her horse, and this is how their days repeat until they find whatever palace of luxury Yennefer has taken residence in now.

They fall together like the sun and the sea, as they always have – conflicting and inevitable, but glorious in the meeting. They regale each other of the last few years – it has been years, after all. They confirm they had all heard it. The whole continent has heard it – Forever, Long Ago.

Late, late, late in the evening, days gone by, Yennefer will find him standing in the garden, staring at the dandelions.

“Oh bother,” she sighs, coming to a stop at the stable-post, the lace of her dress fluttering in the breeze, the scent of her swirling around him. “What fearsome thing has felled our witcher now?” she asks.

Geralt glowers before he even turns to her. He takes in a breath, tastes her on it, and sighs.

“Did you love Jaskier?” he asks.

Yennefer laughs, a sharp barking bite of it.

“The bard has been dead for one hundred years and you ask now?” she arches her brows, her tone scathing as it always is when he strikes at her feelings when she isn’t ready for them.

Some things never change.

The immortal especially so.

Geralt waits, staring her down.

“I have placed a gooseberry gilded hardcover copy of his compiled compositions in every library, temple, and academy on the continent and you are asking me, now, if I loved him.”

Geralt shifts on his feet, turning his stare back on the dirt.

“What could possibly,” she demands of him, “ have ever led you to believe that I didn’t?”

He can’t say. He hadn’t thought she didn’t. He hadn’t really thought she did.

He paces.

That was always the way of it, wasn’t it? That was Yennefer, conflict in essence. Contradictions in perfect harmony. Chaos.

He finally looks back up. “I love him,” Geralt says, realizing it, saying it aloud, a century too late. “I…”

“Oh, witcher….” Yennefer says pityingly, hunching over her crossed arms, her violet eyes too understanding.

To love what is mortal,

Oh please ~

The mo~ortal one is me!

“You think he didn’t know that?”

But see, but see –

Even a dandelion,

Is immortal…

… on the breeze.

So sing, ye bards, so sing!

Lift your voices up with glee ~

This continent will remember me!

Remember me!

Remember me!

Remember me…

…you three.

#oh no I cried #jaskier 💔 #very well written #i'm having so many feelings

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Late night, or early morning?

#oh my I can't believe I mever saw these #they're adorable!!! #sleepy bard my beloved

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Jaskier would never, ever have sex with Yennefer

he’d get

fucked

by her

and call it making love

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the concept of geralt being painfully unaware and making everything confusing is so funny tbh. i mean, imagine the situation:

literally everyone thinks that geralt and jaskier are together. everyone. except geralt.

why? well.

tb to that one time when lambert was making fun of him because 'oh geralt you look like shit, you didn't sleep well last nigh, huh?' so geralt answers, like it's nothing, 'no, jaskier kept me up all night', making lambert choke. to be fair, geralt agrees that listening to jaskier singing his stupid little songs till white morning wasn’t a nice experience. even if lambert is being overdramatic about it.

then some other time, a woman offers him and jaskier to spend the night at her inn while they're on the path. it's true that nights are getting colder but oh, geralt is used to it and so he explains 'no. thank you, but i sleep with the bard'. he doesn't know why the woman goes red in the face, why she starts to stutter and doesn't look geralt in the face anymore. weird but okay, not his problem.

it happens so many times until someone eventually points it out to geralt.

it's even funnier when he AND jaskier are confused after that, just for entirely different reasons

yennefer: no, geralt. enough. you need to stop making people think you and jaskier are together

geralt: what?, we're not together.

jaskier: we aRE NOT????