#artistsfuneral draws | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mordoriscalling · 3 years

Text

Secret

A fic based on @artistsfuneral fic about Geralt confessing his love to Jaskier in Polish, assuming that Jaskier doesn’t understand the language. Please go read it here and give them love!

This fic is also available on AO3.

***

At the beginning, it was just a way of venting about his frustrations concerning the bard.

“Musi mieć nierówno pod sufitem.” He must be soft in the head, Geralt says to Roach quietly as he brushes her mane. He glances over his shoulder, looking at Jaskier sitting by the fire and strumming his newly-acquired elven lute. “Nikt o zdrowych zmysłach nie chciałby pisać o mnie pieśni.” Nobody in their right mind would want to write songs about me, the witcher scoffs in an old language which he’s sure the young bard won’t understand. Roach understands of course, in her own way, and snorts in agreement.

Geralt has lived for many years and has learnt many useful skills during that time. Speaking ancient languages is one of them. Witchers have to learn that particular tongue anyway, since the most reliable bestiaries are written in it. Jaskier, being no witcher, won’t know what Geralt’s talking about, so he can complain all about the bard, even to his face to piss him off.

“Marzę tylko o tym, żebyś zamknął się chociaż na chwilę.” The only thing I dream of is you shutting up for just a minute, he tells the bard after Jaskier asks him whether he has any dreams. It ends up in Jaskier sulking and not talking to him for the rest of the day, so Geralt counts it as a win.

“Daj mi spokój!” Leave me be! He growls at Jaskier as he returns injured to their camp after a hunt. The bard wanted to touch him and look at his wound.

“Zejdź mi z oczu, Jaskier.” Get out of my sight, Jaskier, he grits out, annoyed, after he had to safe the bard from a vengeful spouse yet again.

Jaskier never does. Geralt tells him to go away in all the languages he knows but Jaskier persists. He stays by Geralt’s side through thick and thin, for many years, and Geralt doesn’t understand.

“Czego ty ode mnie chcesz?” What do you want from me? he asks as he and the bard drink ale together in some inn. Jaskier holds his gaze for a long moment but doesn’t answer. Two days later, Jaskier helps him bathe after a hunt and hums happily all throughout, as if it actually brings him pleasure to wash monster guts from Geralt’s hair with his delicate fingers. Geralt blurts out, “Nie rozumiem cię.” I don’t understand you.

Jaskier’s hands stop their movement. “You know what,” he says cheerfully, “I don’t understand what you’re saying but one day, I will.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. “Zobaczymy.” We’ll see about that.

Few more years pass and Jaskier gives no indication that he’s somehow learnt the “secret” language. Geralt still uses it to rant about the bard (mostly to Roach) but gradually, his irritated words like “Wkurzasz mnie” You annoy me give way to quiet confessions such as “Tęskniłem za tobą.” I missed you.

When Jaskier finds the witcher fishing for a djin, he offers to sing Geralt to sleep. He makes Geralt put his head in his lap and starts crooning a lullaby in Elder, running his hands through the witcher’s hair. Sleeplessness starts overtaking Geralt at last but he fights it, just to look up at Jaskier’s face a little longer - his expression is so open, warm and unafraid. Geralt reaches out to touch Jaskier’s cheek and whispers, “Czym ja sobie na ciebie zasłużyłem?” What have I done to deserve you?

Jaskier only chuckles and sings on. The following day, they go to Rinde and make friends with the infamous sorceress who resides there. Yennefer gifts Geralt with a potion that helps the witcher with his insomnia. On some occasions, he allows himself to ask Jaskier to sing to him anyway.

Geralt and Jaskier continue travelling together and the witcher watches his bard companion grow – his clothes get more distinguished, his verses become more sophisticated and artful. Jaskier holds himself with confidence, a magnetic charisma that draws everyone in, yet he still chooses Geralt’s company and all the discomforts and hardships of the Path. It weighs down on Geralt, how much better Jaskier could be doing away from him, how selfish he is to want this extraordinary man to remain with him.

“Jesteś taki piękny.” You’re so beautiful, Geralt murmurs, gazing at Jaskier cast in the orange glow of the bonfire. His blue eyes reflect the firelight with a myriad of colours and Geralt can’t look away.

Jaskier smiles but says nothing.

When they’re about to separate for winter that year, Geralt can’t hold it in anymore. The bard babbles excitedly, sharing his plans for the upcoming months and teasing Geralt about how the witcher surely won’t miss his constant chatter. Geralt suddenly breaks under the weight of the only secret he’s kept from his friend.

“Gdybyś tylko wiedział, jak bardzo cię kocham.” If only you knew how much I love you, he says under his breath, swallowing hard. His chest aches and his throat burns, and it’s only thanks to his very last shred of self-control that he doesn’t say it again in a language which Jaskier speaks.

Then, there comes Jaskier’s question, “Co ty powiedziałeś?” What did you just say?

Geralt whips around and stares at Jaskier with wide eyes. The bard appears equally shocked. There’s comprehension on his face and Geralt’s blood runs cold. He keeps looking at Jaskier soundlessly, helplessly, fighting for breath as every inhale fills his lungs with fire that makes his eyes prickle.

“Jaskier, I –” he grinds out finally. “I’m... sorry, I –”

“Geralt,” Jaskier cuts in gently, “Don’t.”

He walks up to Geralt, standing so close that their bodies almost touch. Taking the witcher’s face into his hands, he goes on, and Geralt can’t look away from the warm blue of his eyes. “I told you that I’d learn,” he says with a smile so soft, so full of affection that shouldn’t be there, “and I did.”

“Wiedźminie.” Witcher, Jaskier murmurs, “mój wiedźminie.” My witcher.

It shouldn’t mean as much as it does - being called this name in this tongue - yet when Jaskier says it so tenderly, his voice turning the vowels and consonants into some magical sounds, it strikes Geralt to his very core. He chokes and lays his palms on Jaskier nape, clinging desperately as he puts their foreheads together.

Jaskier laughs breathlessly and nudges his nose against Geralt’s. “Ja ciebie też kocham.” I love you too, he whispers huskily, “Całym sercem.” With my whole heart.

It means so much.

Part 2

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #love confessions

446 notes · View notes

wherethewordsare · 3 years

Text

Melody of a Lonely and Broken Heart

Hey guys, this is super fucking long, so under the cut! It’s spooky season, so I wrote a ghost story. This would not be possible without @artistsfuneral who I have been screaming at about this for fucking ages. I love you boo.

Also going to go ahead and tag @jaskierswolf cause I promised I would <3

Story below the cut. Jaskier tells Geralt about these ruins where it’s said these ghosts come out every Fall Equinox and sing to each other. Geralt knows where it is but says that he’s never heard the singing.... Ah, well. About that. Enjoy! And thank you for reading!!! <3

I also wanted to submit this for the Oxenfurt Event for Cursed Ones event? I’m not sure if this qualifies.

Geralt wasn’t sure why he had opened his damn mouth. It wasn’t like it had even been a direct question, but Jaskier sat across the fire, a noticeably too far distant that Geralt wasn’t trying to notice at all, chatting away about a story his Gran had told him.

“They say at the Fall Equinox, they show up and sing in the ruins. I think it’s kind of lovely, actually, if it weren’t so spooky. I’ve known a few bards to have gone looking for them,” He was leaning back, looking up at the sky. The column of his throat was cast in the muted light of the fire and Geralt felt his chest tighten.

It had been surprisingly easy to get back in Jaskier’s good graces, too easy. But there was still a tension between them that Geralt didn’t like. It made for more quiet days on the Path and nights that were shared from across a firm line in the sand. Geralt didn’t blame him, but there was only so much he could ignore the stinging in his heart.

“You know, they don’t actually sing,” he grimaced as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“What?” Jaskier was sitting up then, leaning in to look at Geralt, his eyes wide.

“The ‘Singing Lovers’. They don’t actually sing. Witchers have been going there for just about as long as they’ve been haunting the place to try to release them but it never takes. I’ve been myself once or twice. I’ve never heard them sing.” He looked up and couldn’t help the way his lips tugged up at the look on Jaskier’s face.

“The lights?” Jaskier was scooting closer, hooked on the story Geralt finally deemed worth divulging.

“Some, but not as bright as the stories make it out to be, and only around some of the stones,” Geralt explained. He picked up a stick and made the effort to move closer, doing so slowly in case Jaskier decided to move back again. He tried not to delight in the fact that he didn’t.

“The glade looks like this…” Geralt drew out a series of lines, the outlines of the foundation of the keep that had once stood there a millennia ago.

“Where?” Jaskier whispered, looking first down at the rough sketch then up at Geralt’s face, his eyes bright and trusting.

Oh. Geralt swallowed, looking up at the sky and trying to think of where they were. Fuck.

“The Equinox is next week. We could be there by the day before,” He had been a few times and he knew there was no danger to Jaskier and it wasn’t like they had to be anywhere. If a small detour from the path would get Jaskier to look at him like that again after the dragon hunt, well, who was Geralt to say no?

-o-O-o-

They arrived with plenty of time to set camp. Jaskier had set a satchel aside with loose sheets of paper, a few quills and ink. He prepared himself for adventure in a way that Geralt prepared for battle, the tools of his trade neatly arranged and waiting for practiced hands to implement them.

Geralt found himself watching those very same hands closely, frowning at the tug in his chest that made him want to reach for them. Usually, he had this under control, but just in that moment he found it nearly impossible.

“Is that a new song you’re working on?” Geralt asked as he handed Jaskier the waterskin. “I could hear you from the river.”

Jaskier only tilted his head in confusion and Geralt didn’t miss how he carefully moved his fingers not to brush against his. Another thing that had been lost on the mountain, the easy way Jaskier used to touch him. Gone were the days of fingers meeting along the edge of handed goblets and whetstones, pats on the shoulder as he passed Geralt in cramped shared rooms, and gentle hip checks as they walked side by side. The soft humming he had heard earlier seemed to swell for a moment and then it was gone again.

“I… no.” Jaskier finally answered, looking off into the wood where they would follow the trail tomorrow to the glen. His face was pinched as he tilted his head this way and that as if trying to catch something in the wind. But even as he said no, he hummed a few bars to the melody anyways, looking all too not pleased about it.

Through the night, Geralt caught snippets of the music but now also the steady breathing of Jaskier asleep on the other side of the fire. He finally drifted off into something resembling sleep, a strange melody ghosting over his lips.

The day of the Equinox was otherwise unceremonious. They woke, broke camp, packed, carefully banked the fire and then set out onto the trail that would take them to the ruins of Corkirk Hall.

It was nearly nightfall by time the reached the ridge, a soft slope that tumbled easily down into the clearing below. From their vantage point, they could make out the place where the foundation had grown over with roots and grass, though the labyrinth of stones still told the story of the keep’s once expansive footprint. Only a marking stone stood as evidence the place had not been completely forgotten.

Jaskier read it, tracing his fingers over the ancient Elder runes.

“To those who have know the loss They will know where the melody is found In the darkness of the night Will your heart light to the sound”

“Yeah, that’s been here as long as the ghosts, but no one understands what it means. The Witchers have tried nearly everything. One even tried breaking the marker, but it only repaired itself,” Geralt explained, keeping his voice down. Even if he knew that this place wasn’t dangerous, it didn’t feel right to speak so loudly.

Jaskier only worried his lip and didn’t seem to look at Geralt as he perched on an outcrop of stone, his bright blue eyes observing intently. Geralt settled against a tilted tree and they waited in not uncomfortable silence as the sun set behind them. He knew how this was going to end, at least, that’s what he thought.

As the last rays of light faded from the tune from the day before began to pluck itself out of the trees and stones. Two soft voices, as though they were coming up through rushing water joined, their words nearly lost in the wind.

“What the fuck?” Geralt bolted upright, drawing his sword but as he did, Jaskier only gasped.

“I know…” Jaskier whispered, his eyes never leaving the pile of stones.

Geralt followed his gaze and his jaw nearly dropped to his boots. There, swirling as leaves buffeted by a breeze, danced two figures of watery light. The song began to swell and Geralt’s medallion vibrated to the rhythm of it, adding just another instrument to the loosely conducted orchestra that built up around them.

“I know!” Jaskier’s head snapped up, looking at Geralt and his eyes looked as lost as Geralt felt. “Those who know…” He gave Geralt a weak smile and tilted his head. “You’re going to kill me,” Jaskier sighed resignedly.

And before Geralt could ask him what he meant, Jaskier was grabbing his loot and taking off down the hill, directly into the ruins.

“Fuck,” Geralt muttered as he drew his sword, sliding down after Jaskier. “Jaskier, wait!”

“I can’t Geralt! I can help. Let me help.” Jaskier was at a full sprint, his dark hair nearly pitch in the low light. But then…

Geralt stopped, his chest constricting as he watched on in horror and confusion. The moment Jaskier’s feet crossed onto the foundation, every step he took sent up soft sparks of light, like fireflies. Stones illuminated around him and every blade of grass seemed to shed more and more bursts of light.

Geralt had always thought Jaskier was attractive, he’d even admit to it if pressed. But here, as whatever magic swirled around him, encasing him in soft warm light, he was easily, one of the most beautiful things Geralt had ever seen.

Jaskier stopped, not far from where the figures danced, their hands never touching though they reached desperately tried to through the barricade of light. He pulled his lute around, quickly tuning it up, humming through a series of scales before he found the one he was looking for.

Geralt sheathed his swords, and stepped carefully forward. The medallion on his chest hummed louder and for a moment, it pulled Jaskier’s attention.

When their eyes met, Jaskier’s eyes went wide, but he only shook his head as if to clear it, and turned back to the figures. What had he seen?

Geralt didn’t have enough time to wonder before Jaskier opened his mouth and began to sing. His voice was as clear and sweet as ever, though it was distinctly somber. It may have been the years of traveling with Jaskier that Geralt recognized it for what it was, the compliment of a three part harmony. With Jaskier’s voice mixed in, the melody around them seemed to come together and the words that had been muffled through a veil of magic now came crisp and sharp, ringing out across the valley and through the trees.

Geralt didn’t understand the language, but he too knew the words. He knew the tune as though it had been a lullaby in his childhood that he caught through a window of a nursery and suddenly could recall the feel of the words on his lips. He was not a skilled singer, not like Jaskier, but he soon found that his voice too joined in.

Though he couldn’t understand exactly what the words were, he understood what they said.

“Though you are lost my love, it will be alright. I am still here my love, it will be alright. It will be alright. Please be my love once more and I promise, it will be alright.”

Jaskier played through the last bars, his head tilted back as he sang to the stars above and Geralt could only watch in wonder as he was nearly blinded by the light that washed off of Jaskier, thick and silvery as moonlight on fresh snow. The words hit him then and he nearly fell to his knees with them.

To those who have know the loss They will know where the melody is found In the darkness of the night Will your heart light to the sound

What was it Jaskier had said? “I know.” Geralt knew too but had been far too stubborn, far too prideful to say. It dawned on him with how he watched his heart, Jaskier, light to the sound of the music he wove through the magic of this place.

The last notes faded and with them, the ghosts finally locked hands, their eyes wide in their surprise. How long had they waited, Geralt wondered sadly. How long had Witchers been coming here trying to release these poor souls and all it took was the heart of a bard? His heart?

They watched in silence as the figures embraced, slowly dissolving into a shower of lights.

It was Jaskier that broke the silence as he fell forward, gasping for air, the spell finally broken. Geralt rushed forward, pressing in, disregarding the way Jaskier tried to brush him off. He was shaking with exhaustion, his skin clammy as sweat cooled in the autumn night air.

“Not sure what you just saw there,” Jaskier chuckled, gulping and not looking at Geralt. “But I don’t thing there will be a problem with people hearing singing in the ruins anymore.” He gave Geralt a tired kind of smile, his eyes incredibly sad.

To those who have know the loss They will know where the melody is found

“Jaskier…” Geralt reached out with tentative hands, slowly moving them to cup Jaskier’s face. He would leave him room to pull away if he wanted.

Jaskier didn’t.

“Jask, please. Please forgive me, I have been-” he huffed, running a calloused thumb over Jaskier’s cheekbone. The second passing left a wet smear across the soft skin there and Geralt frowned. “I saw you. I saw you in a light I didn’t know was there,” he admitted.

“What are you saying Geralt?” he leaned in closer, even in the now dark, the light from earlier seemed caught in his eyes.

“I mean, I heard you. I heard the song. I’ve always heard you, Jaskier, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Jaskier chuckled, wet and desperate as he surged forward in Geralt’s arms, kissing him as they knelt in the ruins of a long forgotten place, empty of the love that had haunted it, but filled with the melody of love come again.

#geraskier #jay writes #angst #post mountain #they're traveling together but #you know how it goes #ghost story #not super spooky #angst with a happy ending #oxenfurt archives #oxenfurt event #some ghost stories are just love stories without happy endings #so lets give this ghost story a happy ending.

41 notes · View notes

artistsfuneral · 1 year

Text

#is this funny or does it only sound good in my head?#one piece #artistsfuneral draws #one piece whitebeard #one piece ace #one piece marco #one piece thatch #one piece haruta #who in my head is just a tiny bean #one piece art #comic

1K notes · View notes

artistsfuneral · 27 days

Text

#artistsfuneral draws #hermitcraft #zedaph #hermitcraft s10 #hermitcraft season 10 #hc s10 #hc10 #zedaphplays #mcyt #mcyt fanart #minecraft #minecraft fanart

78 notes · View notes

artistsfuneral · 1 month

Text

There's a new Coloring Page in my ko-fi Shop!

It's a flower shop au :)

It costs 1€, that's like- a gas station coffee, a pack of gummy bears, a cup of instant noodles. But you can color it in again and again and again! That's hours of chill time!!! (And it would make me very happy to see how you color it in)

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #artistsfuneral draws #geraskier #flower shop au #coloring page #jaskier #geralt #witcher #geralt of rivia #colouring page #artist on kofi #ko fi support

79 notes · View notes

artistsfuneral · 11 months

Text

@araglas1989 😁❤️ he may be distracting Eskel from cooking

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #artistsfuneral draws #jaskier #witcher #eskel #witcher eskel #the witcher fanart

231 notes · View notes

artistsfuneral · 1 year

Text

No main character would be able to withstand the amount of pressure I used on this poor printer paper. @spielzeugkaiser 🌟

#once again the colors look better irl buttttt #meh #the blue and green should be a lot blue and greener #rambles #artistsfuneral draws #spielzeugkaiser's fault #sorry friend but that's your tag on this blog 😂❤️#my family kept asking me if I also drew the lineart myself and I was lile #nah :3 I got friends for that #time to hairspray the shit outta it

426 notes · View notes

artistsfuneral · 1 year

Text

😁 Looks better in person, but I'm too lazy to find the perfect lighting for taking a picture.

@spielzeugkaiser thank you, friend 😊

(here would be a cut if I wasn't posting this from my phone)

#rambles #spielzeugkaiser's fault #artistsfuneral draws #i'm getting sick so i spent all day coloring this and watching gab smolders play horror games #a sunday well used #decided to use warm colors for everything but ciri's dress so it'd stand out more and #unintentionally matched jaskier's shirt with the cloth they're sitting on but honestly it's a vibe

392 notes · View notes

artistsfuneral · 5 months

Text

Idk Stickers maybe?

#artistsfuneral draws #art #stickers #digital art

59 notes · View notes

artistsfuneral · 10 months

Text

The Road to Kaer Morhen - p.4

Jaskier's heart was hammering inside his chest. He knew that Aiden could hear it clear as day and wondered if his own heartbeat quickened Aiden's as well. Outside the voices grew louder, angrier. Jaskier bit his lip.

“Alright, fine! We'll do it your way,” the bard hissed through gritted teeth, “Just- let's hurry, please.” Aiden nodded at him encouragingly. “Of course. Thanks for trusting me, Jaskier.”

With their minds set on the same goal, Jaskier and Aiden stood in unison and opened the door that separated their bedroom from the long hallway that let to both the stairs and a single open window. Training his ears on the downstairs commotion, Aiden stepped out first, Jaskier close behind him clutching the handle of his short sword. They made it just past the stairwell when the door to the inn burst open and the telltale sound of heavily armored men echoed up to them. Unable to help himself the Cat Witcher turned around and made a 'I-told-you-so' face at Jaskier, who rolled his eyes and ushered him along.

Once they made it to the window it was clear from the sounds that the redanian soldiers were forcing their way into every single room of the inn, scaring the guests and servants.

“I'll go first,” Aiden said, already shoving his pack through the wooden frame and onto the withered roofing. “Throw me your things, then I can catch you easier when it's your turn.” He sighed with annoyance when he saw the dubious look on Jaskier's face. “I'm a Cat, I've been catching people ever since I could lift them.” It wasn't as reassuring as Aiden may have thought. Jaskier told him exactly that while he watched Aiden gracefully climb through the window.

“I am lacking the entire context for this to make any sense at all!”

Aiden gave him a look Jaskier couldn't read. “Cats, among other things, specialize in balance and climbing. From a very young age we balance on everything, everywhere. If you're not caught by someone you'd easily break something. Which obviously nobody wants to happen, so every Cat gets very good at catching people. It's only natural.”

It kind of made sense, Jaskier thought as he took notice how Aiden climbed down the roof in three moves, unknowingly making any of Jaskier's previous window escapes look pathetic. Granted, he wasn't wearing pants during half of them, but Aiden had that natural elegance to him that the bard envied. Still he winced, when it was his time to drop his things down the roof and he had to let go of his lute case.

Aiden caught it easily and placed it on the ground much more carefully than Geralt ever would have. Then Jaskier stood at the edge of the wonky roof and stared into the witcher's ember eye. “Come on, Jaskier. If I can catch three trainees at once, I can catch one silly bard.” Jaskier was up and about to argue that he was in fact not a silly bard but an amazing artist and should therefore be treated with more respectful nicknames, when a loud shout rang out right behind him and he froze mid movement.

“They're escaping through the windows!”

Out of the corner of his eyes Jaskier spotted the red and and gray armor and immediately understood that he had to think fast. Already kneeling with one leg, Jaskier dug his fingernails into one of the roof tiles and pulled at it with all his strength. It came loose almost too effortlessly and the bard did not hesitate to throw it right into the soldier's face. Jumping down roofs and balconies was always easier when his life was threatened.

He was down in no time, Aiden's arm steadying his fall like promised, barely had the time to secure his bag and lute on his back before the first soldiers were running around the corner and shouting at them to surrender in the name of the crown.

Neither Jaskier, nor Aiden found themselves really caring about the crown's desires shared one last look at each other and ran towards the market place as fast as they could.

The bard was quite familiar with this part of an adventurer's life and navigated through narrow alleys without difficulty. At this point there was no use in trying to hide his identity, but he could tell that Aiden was far more used to hiding away in the shadows than running past them. He'd have to be careful not to lose the witcher before they were swallowed up by the crowd where Aiden was back in his natural element of getting away through stealth alone.

“That one armed peasant is not Geralt of Rivia!” Fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck! Jaskier cursed in his mind as he darted around a corner and past a group of barrels he carelessly pushed into the way of his pursuers. Had he only spent his coin on that stupid coat, then they could've hidden Aiden's identity! As if searching for a one armed man wasn't an easy enough descriptor, if the soldiers should figure out that he was a witcher as well they'd surely be even more interested in catching them just for the bragging rights of the kill.

Melitele once again showed that she did not favor anyone. Fuck! “This way!” he called out to Aiden who suddenly looked a lot paler than he did minutes ago. “We're almost there,” he shouted just as the soldiers realized what they were trying to do.”Cut them off,” one screamed, “They're headed towards the market!”

please like and reblog if you voted

✨🌿🌼✨

hmh. Should we ship Jaskier with Aiden? 🤔 I mean it's 100% going to be Lambden but in my heart I need to make everything poly

please tell me if you (don't) want to be tagged!

@mirrorthoughts @dwintu @whump-der-it-is @beneficialfondue @sinfulpetgirlrd @chaoticfandomthot @fingons-rad-harp @basilikum7 @siriusly-the-best-bi @snailqueen42 @cowboybuttconnoisseur @reluctantbroodingdads @starlghtstarbrite @merthurmagic @wren-of-the-woods @araglas1989 @joestarlight @alaskawho @kore888 @toapoet @thehorrorandme @inanoldhousewrites @dinotree506 @gregre369 @life-as-a-gamergirl @nerdymuffinbonkcloud @singerin @wren-of-the-woods @cinary

currently 2 of you need to check their tag settings

#the witcher #witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #road to kaer morhen fic #jaskier #jaskier the bard #aiden #witcher aiden #artistsfuneral draws

118 notes · View notes