fakeroachh

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Sacred fruit

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The Poisoner Who Loved A Fisherwoman

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okok i havr a req for ljke a blurb and its kinda angsty but not really. can you maybe do like a reader asks the guys if they want kids and they react negitvly....but readers already pregant.....

edit: here's part 2

You shrink a little next to Simon. He notices, but doesn’t prod. He never does. He waits for you to build up the courage, for your boldness to well up and spill over in a rare moment.

“Simon, do you ever think about having kids?”

It wasn’t a question he’d counted on coming from you for at least another few months, but he knew it was just a matter of time. Birds always ask about this kinda shite.

“Men like me ain’t fit to be fathers. Blood’s no good. Thing’d probably turn out just as rotten as me.” It’s not the most tactful answer, he knows. But he wants the topic left in no uncertain terms. Hope sours into resentment faster than wet strawberries mold in the fridge. A distant, self flagellating part of him wondered when he’d be forced to pick over the hallowed carcass of this relationship, try to salvage a few splintering bones and move on. 

You suck in a quick lungful of breath, expertly willing the tears to stay in their warm ducts. You’d done it a thousand times before you’d met Simon, and you’d probably do it a hundred thousand times more after he left you.

You’d met his captain, John Price, a handful of times. Spoken to him privately only once, in warning.

“Simon is a good man. One of the best. But I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to really give himself to someone else. He’s been through… more than most.”

You’d told yourself and him that that was fine. That you’d be happy with whatever small piece of him you could manage to get away with. That was before you realized how little of yourself you had to begin with. And suddenly he had all of it. What did that leave you with?

A pregnancy test double wrapped in paper towels before it’s thrown in the kitchen trash, as it happens. You’d heard once that people who believed they were in possession of haunted photographs would stuff them in layers of envelopes and wrap them in twine, which did nothing but help them feel better.

And as if he could smell the acrid blood brewing in the parasite inside you, Simon leaves soon after. What little he’d brought into your home is gone one day, wordlessly. You know him well enough to realize that if he wants to disappear, he will, and trying to chase him would be tantamount to falling into a grain silo– agonizing and tragic in a way that grants no closure.

You were by no means in a position to be a single mother. But you couldn’t bring yourself to give up the one piece of Simon you’d managed to keep.

[fakeroachh]

happy PRIDE i’m here i’m queer and i believe the land should be given back to the proper indigenous stewards.

[fakeroachh]

New [tumblr] users: there is something very important for you to know.

There is a secret callsign for [tumblr] users.

If you spot a wild [tumblr] human in the wild, you must tell them this phrase:

"I like your shoelaces."

The appropriate reverse-call, if you hear this phrase, goes thusly:

"Thanks! I stole them from the president."

I'm paying literal actual money for you to see this, so don't let it be in vain. Use this phrase everywhere.

[fakeroachh]

I shouldn’t have to clarify this but it does not make sense for female lizard/bird/whatever people to have tits. If they ain’t a mammal, they ain’t got milk. Dragonborn, lizardfolk, kobolds, arakocra, kenku, Yuan-ti, owlin, and all the other non-mammals do not have tits. You cannot milk the lizards. There is no suck thing as kobold milk. There is no kilk. Just stop.

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collecting posts of this type

[fakeroachh]

Stunning mosaic from the floor of the triclinium (dining room) of Hadrian's Villa, residence of Emperor Hadrian outside Rome

Altes Museum, Berlin

[fakeroachh]

just got back into gardening so i’ve forgotten. are basil leaves supposed to be this big

[fakeroachh]

late night drive and a backseat fuck

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do not separate them…..

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