#i just don't want the word frog there anymore because of things

[oneroomjestershow]

what if i... change my username... haha no actually im not kidding im going to do it i just don't know to what

[thebibliosphere]

There are a lot of things I'm sad about in my life. You don't get to go through the kind of medical trauma I've been through and come out unscathed on the other side.

But one thing I'm really bitter about is that I can't remember my wedding anymore. The pernicious anemia took it from me and wiped my brain clean. Except it's not clean, not really. I remember it in patches. Like red wine stains on a white rug that have never quite lifted out no matter how hard you try.

I look at the pictures on my bookcase, and they feel like remembering a story someone else has told me. There's a young woman in a white dress wearing my face, and she looks happy. I'm happy for her. But you can see the strain around her eyes, too. The pain she's hiding because no one with authority believes her when she says her body doesn't feel right. That something is Wrong.

They won't believe her for another decade. They won't believe her until it's almost too late, and it's that lateness that will rob her of her memories and turn them into a wavering rainbow suspended in the fine haze of watery sunlight that occasionally surfaces through the blanks.

There's one memory that's real, though. Solid. It's not my vows. It's not my father walking me down the aisle. (Though those are there, just hazy and dream-like). It's our first dance.

It's the lights dimming around the room as the staff cleared the floor, causing the fishbowls full of white roses and LED lights on the tables to wobble like pools of moonlight against dark paneled walls.

It's the band inviting us out onto the floor and us giggling because we know what's coming next, and no one else does. It's the twang of a banjo reverberating around the room through the speakers, followed by the dulcet tones of Kermit the Frog wondering why there are so many songs about rainbows.

It's us waltzing around the enclosed circle of light, singing to each other out of tune and grinning like idiots as everyone around us starts to laugh.

It's everyone joining in on the song because it's the Muppets, and everyone knows the words. It's 100+ people singing the Rainbow Connection, some laughing, some a bit tearful, because it's bringing back memories. Because it's making a new one.

It's looking up at my new husband through the brain fog and all the pain in my body and thinking, "I want to remember this moment forever."

I don't know what entity was out there listening to me at that moment and chose to grant that wish. I don't know why this is the one memory that stuck while everything else in my brain got decimated into scattered, fragmented snapshots. But I'm so, so thankful it is.

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist

⟡ featuring: suna, oikawa, tsukishima, atsumu

⟡ cw: angst, idk still bad at these

⟡ an: i found my old breakup playlist from three years ago and took inspiration from that so these songs are old lol. writing this was silly because im in a loving relationship but it was like i felt all the pain of a breakup again </3

⟡ part two, part three

⟡ suna rintarou: you broke me first - tate mcrae

suna would be the one to break things off with you. when you first started dating he genuinely thought he loved you but as time went on and he became more distant, you started to feel like he was losing feelings for you so you asked him about it. in his words, "i think you were just the first girl to give me attention after my last relationship" and "im not ready for a relationship". a week later, he starts talking about all the girls that have come to him after the breakup and started talking about his hookups to you. this bothered you and hurt you deeply so you decided to cut things off with him completely and he was not a fan of this. so he tried everything to try to get you to talk to him again saying that he misses you and that he wants to get back together. you couldn't care less though, he's already broken your heart too many times for you not to notice his pattern of wanting your attention just to make you jealous or upset. in the end, it actually did end up hurting him and made him realize what he lost. he knew he fucked up but there's no going back anymore.

⟡ oikawa tooru: over breakfast - ellise

it's been a few months since oikawa left for argentina. it's been hard for the both of to be apart for so long and in completely different timezones. you could feel the connection fading but neither of you wanted to admit it because you both loved each other so much. but the longer you guys try to keep the relationship afloat, the more frequent you end up arguing over text or facetime. but you both decided that it could be something to figure out when oikawa visits for the holidays. well, the holidays come around and you finally have time to see each other and talk in person. from the moment oikawa entered your apartment, you both knew it was over. you could tell so many things have changed over the course of the last few months but instead of facing it, you just decide to spend one more night together just to have one final time to say that you tried. it was bittersweet and it hurt a lot but you didn't want the night to end. maybe you could fix this over night? in the morning everything will be better and you can set aside your differences! unfortunately, that morning, nothing had changed and you and oikawa finally came to terms with the fact that maybe you two just maybe weren't meant to be.

⟡ tsukishima kei: high definition - waterparks

when tsukishima was still part of the sendai frogs, he traveled a lot. it's not like he was off in another country like some of his old teammates and rivals, no, you lived with him. even though you two had been dating for quite some time by this point, tsukishima still had trouble expressing his love for you. he tended to push you away whenever he was stressed even though the one thing he wanted the most was your comfort and loving. he was just worried he would end up snapping at you and making you hate him. he didn't know that you'd end up upset with him regardless. you loved him so much but you don't know how long you could going on like this. i mean come on! tsukishima was always away for volleyball matches and even when he's home...it's like he's still not even there. tsukishima knew that you were starting to slip away from him so one day he sat you down and explained how he was feeling and it was finally then that you understood why he acted the way he did. you tried protesting his decision to break up with you but he kept insisting it was for the better. by the next week tsukishima had moved out leaving you alone in the once shared apartment, wishing and hoping he'd come back one day.

⟡ miya atsumu: better off - ariana grande

everyone knew that atsumu could be hot headed most of the time when it came to volleyball but what they didn't know is that it would sometimes affect your relationship with him. much like tsukishima, he would close himself off from you whenever he was mad at the world or whatever else there is that could make him upset. it was starting to get tiring for you. you felt like you had to walk on egg shells around him just so he wouldn't snap at you (wether he meant to or not- his mind would always fog up). towards the end of your relationship, you could feel yourself start to get numb in regards to your feelings towards atsumu. atsumu couldn't really tell at this point that you were losing hope for the relationship. if anything he thought everything was normal but that was only because half of the time he was too much into his own thoughts to notice any flaws between the two of you. it wasn't until he came home one day after an away game on the other side of japan and found that all of your stuff was gone along with you, that he realized nothing is what it used to be. he found a note from you that explained that you weren't happy in the relationship anymore and that you felt trapped. you also stated that you hope he figures out his issues and that you'll always be there for him if he needs but that right now you just needed space. atsumu spent that night crying and angry at himself for letting your relationship get to this point.

[fategoflatass]

I used to be so against the slow burn trope. Not because I thought it was shit; it's just, I usually don't have the patience to wait whatever-amount-superior-to-three damn chapters for my dear ship to finally be able to look at each other without blushing and/or hold hands. Thus why you often times see me reading oneshots or fics with the "Established Relationship" tag on them.

So you can imagine just how surprised—or maybe not, maybe I just didn't think enough about it—I was when I realized my newest fixation's main pairing is—canonically—the embodiment of slow burn. Because holy shit they're taking their time.

Nothing against how Kusuriya develops its love story—quite the opposite, actually. The relationship between Jinshi and Maomao, two characters that are written as beautifully as their romance, is a rather realistic approach as to how the same or a similar dynamic would developed in real life. In such a complicated situation, with such complex feelings about emotions—both external and their own—and attachment, makes sense that it takes so long for the relationship to finally sail.

The problem is, I didn't know I was signing with the Devil the moment I decided to pick up the light novel. Ten volumes and nothing has happened. Nothing.

And you can say that technically things have happened, because they have. I mean, Jinshi is just so desperate for Maomao to give him the time of day, you know what I mean? And even that isn't enough anymore and thus he has committed some of the craziest shit I've seen in any romance. Which okay, I don't usually read these type of romances but still.

What I mean by "nothing" is just, their relationship hasn't changed status. I could also say that it seems to go nowhere, but that'd be lying. Since, you know, it has changed quite a lot—just not in the way my impatient ass wanted it to. Because he can be as honest with his feelings as he pleases, and those around them might be heavely conscious of the tension and thus constantly tease those lovebirds (as they should), but babygirl's not helping, you know?

And I get it, Maomao's not the best at expressing and understanding herself, and she's also way too busy worrying about going as unnoticed as possible (she should give up on that one already, tbh) while keeping her head where it should be. But like, I can't help feeling frustrated over it like ‼‼

GIRL, FUCK THE RULES. TAKE THAT PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN AND RUNAWAY SOMEWHERE NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO IDENTIFY YOU. YOU THEN CARRY THAT BITCH BRIDESTYLE TO THE CLOSEST CHURCH AND MAKE HIM YOUR WIFE. PROCEED TO FROG AROUND, EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR UTERUS AS MUCH AS YOU'D LIKE, AND THEN TEACH THE PRODUCTS OF YOUR PRACTICES AS YOUR OWN GUINEA PIG THE WAYS OF HERBAL MEDICINE. AS EASY AS THAT.

But she won't. She'll take her sweet ass time being in denial about both Jinshi's and her own feelings, then maybe she'll proceed to analize herself and find out that maybe, just maybe, that affection that she'd been feeling for that loser became something else. Did said affection also become something more complicated? Absolutely. Does she know how to deal with it? Hell no, but fuck it. If I learned something from school is that you always leave the hardest parts for later.

Now you see why I was so against reading slow burn?

And you wanna know the worst part? I loved it—I loved every second of it, every word, every page. Every scene that seemed to help the relationship advance, only for Maomao to say nope and leave like she owns the place, which at this point she fucking might.

It feels like I, as the reader, am in the middle of a heatwave and some sadistic bastard won't stop teasing me with ice cream—they put it in front of my face, close enough that I can smell the cold. Then take a spoon and eat little by little while staring directly to my eyes. At times they seem to show mercy and feed me a spoon, only for it to be a rather small quantity of serving—serving that tastes so damn good at first, only for it to have such a bitter aftertaste. But if I gotta have something in common with Jinshi is that I'll never be able to beat the masochist allegations, so I'll wait patiently for the next spoon and its corresponding and seemingly enless teasing from that faceless being.

So yeah, I'm still against it, only that now I understand the appeal—even if I have yet to find out about the whereabouts of my sanity while still mananing with the little I've left.

[candi-gram]

I'm a manhating feminist and career girl. How will you fuck my feminism away?

I'm sure this isn't the answer you were hoping for, not what you wanted to rub your needy, traitorous cunt to, but if you look deep down and be honest with yourself for once, it's the answer that you know is true. Because I wouldn't have to do anything to fuck your feminism away... You'll do it all for me. You'll do it to yourself and blame me for it. You're already doing it to yourself.

I didn't tell you to message a random, strange man on the internet looking for misogynistic words to get off to. You did that all by yourself, sweetie. You're so desperate and needy for male attention and approval you are literally initiating conversations begging to be seen and put in your place. You. You did that to yourself. You're probably sopping, gooey, sticky wet and already cum several times fantasizing about the terrible things I might answer with. The transformation doesn't happen suddenly, overnight. It happens gradually, incrementally until one day you just wake up and don't recognize who or what you are anymore and you ask how did this happen?

It happened because you wanted to make him happy and get his approval so badly the subtle seemingly innocent things he said crept inside and convinced you he was right.

You start by acting just a bit more demure and deferential around him, because that's what he likes and expects. The good girl comments, positive reinforcement, praise, and telling you how much better you look leads to you gradually dressing and doing your make-up in more and more daring and evocative ways until you dress and look like a cheap slut.

You share your thoughts and opinions on subjects less and less because he doesn't care what you think and is always mansplaining, correcting, and talking over you, so it's easier to just let him talk and make the decisions and agree with whatever he says.

You were probably a frigid, stuck up prude at one point, refusing with other guys to do certain things because "you're not that type of girl." But now things you once believed unthinkable are just simply what you do now because that's what makes a man happy. That's just what they expect. All that terrible misogynistic porn you get off to told you that and you know it's true. Sure, it didn't start out that way, but over time he's slowly convinced, cajoled, bullied, and coerced you into gradually doing more and more demeaning things. Until you're ashamed and humiliated by what is just normal sex now for you. And to make it worse, it was a lot easier to get there than you thought, wasn't it? Maybe what is most shameful is how little you actually fought or resisted and how easily you gave in and agreed to do what he wanted.

Like the parable of the frog in a pot of water on the stove, he just turned the heat up a little at a time, pushing your limits just a tiny bit and then a tiny bit more, and then when you got used to that, pushing them again and again until nothing remained of them. Using your desperate, pathetic need for praise and approval, and all those shameful uncontrollable orgasms and your sloppy, dripping wet cunt against you. Each time you came, every time something horrible and unspeakable you did for him made him cum, made him happy, made him tell you what a good, obedient girl you were, hard wiring that behavior directly into your mind and cunt until it's impossible to tell which one is making your decisions now.

Because you may not want to admit it, but you already knew before you asked this question that male pleasure and approval is already more important to you than your beliefs and Identity. Otherwise you wouldn't be here asking this, now would you?

I don't need to fuck the feminism out of you. You'll extinguish it on your own to be better for me. To be better for men. You'll do it without knowing it. You'll do it because you can't help yourself.

But most importantly, you'll do it because you're already doing it. You simply can't help yourself.

Because this is who you really truly are. The man hating feminist is just a mask you wear because you're embarrassed and ashamed of what you really are.

[willowser]

angsty to begin with bc i love to talk about fighting with bakugou LOL but it gets lighter, i promise 💕✨️

you can track katsuki's heated discovery through his footsteps.

the front door closes harshly enough that the house trembles, echoing down your spine at his arrival; it feels sudden, now, though—looking at the clock—you've been waiting for hours. his day has no doubt been just as tumultuous as yours, but his resounding frustration—both new and old—bleeds through the walls all too well.

it means something that he doesn't take off his boots; what's always been regarded as a criminal offense now bares his impatience, reveals how full his mind is of the things he needs to say. underneath the comforter, your toes curl, heart thudding heavy as his heels as he lumbers for the bedroom.

—only to come up empty.

an indistinguishable curse shoots from his mouth, across the house. first murmured and then chanted over and over again as he tears down the hall and back into the living room. you've left your shoes out for this reason, as well as a plate in the sink and a candle burning on the end table beside the couch.

you're still here; you want him to know that.

it's silent long enough for you to realize you're holding your breath, straining to hear his every move. your cheeks are salted with tears—both new and old—and you wipe at them cautiously, as if such a movement could give you away; it's not that you want to stay hidden, but you're nervous for what will unfold, when he finds you.

not because you're afraid of him, never of him, but—you just don't want to fight anymore.

the door to the guest room is thrown open suddenly, with an urgency that makes your heart pound and your eyes snap shut.

katsuki smells like work, strongly; sweet and musky like sweat; a once-roaring campfire; evidence of the city—smog and fried food and some amalgamation of strangers—soaked into the fabric of his hero clothes. you sniff once, wet and distracted, and it gives you away instantly.

the sound makes him sigh, though from relief or annoyance, you can't tell. maybe both. a weight he's placed on your chest dares to lighten as he shuffles closer, no doubt dragging mud across the carpet, and the warmth of his body so close is all too alluring; you peek up at him once he sits at your side, but he's just leaning his elbows onto his knees, staring at the wall.

"guess you're sleepin' in here, then."

this bed lacks the indentation you've worn into katsuki's mattress, but the comfort of it wouldn't help you to sleep anyway. not after today. after all that's been said.

your voice is very small when you speak, tip-toeing. "yeah, i think i will."

he shakes his head like you're being ridiculous, and you try not to let the action prod your still tender wounds. a harsh hand runs over his face and through his hair, tugging off the mask that had been buried there. it dangles loosely between his fingers as he fiddles with it, keeping his eyes from you as long as he can.

"y'want me to stay in here too?"

you don't. it's the whole reason you moved your pillow into the guestroom to begin with and you think he should know that, but he's still—trying. a fresh frog develops in your throat at the sentiment; it's always the softer side or katsuki that packs the heavier punch.

a weighted silence settles in the space between you, the words sour in your mouth. for a brief and tense moment, you wonder if you can get away with not saying it, without having to reject him—but then he peeks at you over his shoulder, all smoldering embers. waiting.

"that's okay," you offer a weak smile in an attempt to soften the blow. "you can have the room tonight."

katsuki rears, resisting with a huff. "well, i don't have to. and you—we can—y'don't have to sleep alone."

still trying; you can hear it in his voice, well-hidden beneath his exasperation, a slight tremble born from the fear that you'll leave him in an empty bed. so far removed from the tone used with you this morning.

you can still see his face when you close your eyes: how red it gets, the vein in his neck that swells with blood when he's yelling, lips curled like he's so angry he could spit. the argument hadn't started on any serious note, but you had something to say and so did he, and it went on and on until you were fighting less about the subject matter and more about each other. rights and wrongs that had been left unattended for too long, that had begun to fester.

it's not like you were particularly soft-spoken either, but—like most things, with katsuki—you didn't stand a chance against him.

"i know, but," you bite your lip and lose your words, settling for a shrug that only serves to annoy him further.

"fine," he grumbles, shooting up from the mattress to storm out of the room. "whatever. goodnight."

the door follows closely behind him, banging against the frame with less force than it could have, though the silence he leaves behind feels just as painful. you roll onto your back to wipe at the fresh wave of tears that pool in your eyes, groaning quietly into the emptiness.

fighting with katsuki isn't the hardest part. making up is.

it took long enough for him to place his heart comfortably in your hands, to reach the point where he felt safe enough to share his feelings with you, but his trepidations lie in wait; any sort of rejection when he's already so vulnerable is liable to have him locking his every last door.

and you know he doesn't mean it; it's instinctual, a defense mechanism he's kept in place all his life. retreating away to hide, when he's sorry and asking for absolution, is the safest route for him.

when you're finally done pawing at your eyes, the shower sounds from down the hall and you imagine him in there, head bowed under the violently hot water, trying to wash his frustrations away. his skin is always so pink and tender when he gets out, and you feel a pang of loneliness at what you'll miss in a bed without him. for tonight, all you have to hold is the idea of him, and you listen closely to the stream as if it will offer something more.

it runs for long enough that you begin to forge an excuse to go in and check on him, but just as you start to justify it, the water shuts off. you feel thwarted—though it was a silly plan—and the hope of getting to see him for one final time tonight crashes, has tears welling up again.

but before they can spill over, a soft knock sounds at the door.

you turn away despite wanting for him, and answer. "yeah?"

the door creaks, room warming with him in it. katsuki doesn't say anything until you finally roll over to look at him, his hair damp and flat, forehead resting against the wood as he watches you from the corner of his eye. head bowed, like a scolded child.

"'ve got...shit to do with my old man tomorrow." he murmurs. "but i should be back by lunch."

even if you are at odds, another bout of loneliness grows at the thought of waiting, sitting in the house without him. "okay, thank you for letting me know."

just barely are you able to make out the shift of his eyes down to the carpet, the growing frown on his face before he groans quietly to himself. when he stands properly, you admire the soft curve of his muscles, his shoulders, as he crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"goodnight," he tells you again, nicer this time. you whisper it in return and there's some finality, for the night; his jaw cocks and his head shakes again, like he can't stand this shit. you know he can't. katsuki squeezes his eyes shut tight and when he fixes them on you, they are full and sad, but he doesn't look away. not this time. "y'know...that i love you, right?"

your restraint buckles, nearly slipping through your hands, and you sit up to catch it. more than anything, you want to open your arms and allow him into this bed with you, the way you always do, but your sore heart stops the words from forming.

instead you tell him, quietly, seriously, "and i love you too, katsuki."

his frown only deepens and he turns with a heavy sigh, dragging the door gently behind him.

katsuki's all might mug is waiting on the edge of the counter the next morning, still steaming.

for you, because he doesn't drink coffee, and when you step up to it, you can tell by the color that he's added too much cream. the gesture makes you smile regardless, softening aches and pains from the night before.

he doesn't say anything when you sit at the bar counter, doesn't look up either, just continues putting away whatever he's used to make his protein shake. you can see the tension still lining his every move, the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows hard and ducks his head and acts like you don't exist here at the end of the kitchen, waiting.

twice he walks by without saying anything, busying himself with a backpack sitting by the couch. he spends a few minutes staring into the hall closet before grabbing a jacket you haven't seen him wear in months, and then he sets it with his other things and strides back to the kitchen and—has to face you.

the shadows under his eyes are dark and heavy, like he didn't get much more sleep than you did.

"shouldn't take me all morning," he speaks softly, like he would to a newborn. so, so far from how he spoke to you yesterday. "if y'need somethin' while i'm out, just—" call him, he means, though he trails off with a shrug.

"okay," you nod and sip your coffee, accepting his olive branch. "i will, thank you."

katsuki chews on his lip before finally returning to the living room to gather his things, and he waits until your back is to him before speaking again. "unless you don't want me to go." he huffs, like he's already frustrated. "i can stay and we can...figure all this shit out."

"no," you shake your head and swivel around to frown at him. "no, you should go spend time with your dad. we can talk later."

"'s not a big deal if i cancel, i can call him right now if you want me to stay."

"no, katsuki, i wouldn't want you to do that." your brow furrows and the knot that gets stuck in his throat is almost visible, as his gaze shifts to the wall beside you, avoidant. "i think it'd be good if we—"

"fuck, if you want me to get out, just say so."

"no, that's not—" the irritation you felt yesterday wakes once more and your stomach twists at the fear that this will devolve into another screaming match. your already thin patience snaps, echoes like the ceramic of your mug against the counter when you set it down. "i'm not saying that. at all. i just don't think you should cancel on your dad if you've already made plans. you said yourself it's not gonna take all morning, so we'll talk after."

"well," he scoffs, indignant, throwing his arms up in the air like he's exasperated—but you don't miss the slight wobble of his chin, how long it takes him to sound out his own words. "you even gonna be here when i get back?"

"well, yeah, honey, where else would i—"

"'m not gonna come home 'n—" he waves a hand, clearing his throat as he forces himself to stare at the ceiling. "'n all your shit's gonna be gone?"

you deflate instantly, watching the sharp work of his jaw until he's having to blink rapidly, over and over again as his eyes gleam. the bar stool scrapes across the floor with an ugly sound as you slip out of it, and katsuki only throws you one brief, bloodshot glance before you bury your face into his chest.

still on guard, his arms don't move, don't come to wrap around you—but you can feel the small huff that leaves his chest. the tip of his nose as it dips into your hair.

with your cheek to his chest like this, all you can hear is the rapid-fire beat of his heavy heart. "i would never just leave you like that." all you get is a half-shrug in response, voice to fragile to sound. "i'm—we had a fight, but i still love you, katsuki."

he shrugs again and shakes his head, staring glassy-eyed at his cabinets when you look up at him. "well...'m sorry."

"i know," you murmur, nuzzling your cheek into him again. in your hands, his heart is heavy, and your own mirrors its ache; has he always been like this, expecting the worst? or is this a wound suffered from another? you squeeze him a little tighter, until his breath hitches. "and i forgive you, but my feelings are still a hurt and i just need...some time, you know?"

now his walls crumble, as he finally wraps an arm around your neck so that he can press his face into your hair. "...how much time?"

you want to laugh at his impatience, the little brat that's still at his core, but you can't fault him. not when you're just as eager to leave this fight behind. to wrap him up in all the warmth you can offer. "i don't know, half a morning, maybe."

and he doesn’t say anything for a long time, as he waits for his voice to stand on its own again. even then, it's quiet, small. "...okay."

"i'm going to love you forever and ever and ever." you promise, offering him your loveliest smile when he swallows hard. "even when you don't want me to." the longer his eyes linger on your cheeks, the pinker his own get, and you can't help yourself; you stand on your tip-toes, happily, now, and wrap your arms around his neck. "can i have a kiss, please?"

katsuki scoffs, though it's lighter now, before pressing his lips to yours, softer than you expected. even though it's chaste and simple, he stays there with his eyes shut tight, like he doesn't want to ever leave. you have to pull back, because your lips start to curl and you want to laugh at him, so pliable and sweet, but he chases you, plants two more before frowning at your giggling.

"y'r a dumbass," he murmurs, and when you gasp, he throws his arm around your neck and yanks you into his chest again. the heat on his face is palpable, as he tries to tuck his vulnerability in your hair. "'m always..." katsuki tries, cutting himself off with a sharp sigh. "g'nna want this, so don't be thinkin' otherwise. ever."

you hum into him, pliable, too. melted down to his same temperature; warm, tender. you pull away to place a kiss on his cheek, more on his lips until they quirk up the slightest bit. satisfied. "i won't if you won't."

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I request a oneshot with Leshy from Cult of the Lamb and this child follower who just follows him eVeRyWhErE, and after getting mad at the child he's just like, 'yo heket I have a kid' and he's unbelievably chill about it after that and eventually just brings the kid with him instead of the child stalking him. (And platonically because I'm not that kind of weird--)

If you don't write for platonics or just don't want to write this please ignore-- have a wonderful timezone!

Awe this is such a cute idea!! Also for the child follower y/n I decided to make Lamb their parent (I'll leave the other parent up to interpretation).

...........

"Lesh!"

"Augh!! Lamb's little brat...how dare you stand in my way?! I could have tripped over you and spilled all these beetroots!"

"Sorry. I thought you'd wanna play tag..."

"Tag? No, thank you. I feel as though I'd be at a great disadvantage. Why don't you go find somebody else to play with? Perhaps someone who still has their sight."

"Okaaaay!"

"Good. Now away with you." Shooing you off, Leshy heard your hoof-steps running away from him. As he put the vegetables into the farming station's chest, he growled in irritation upon hearing Lamb's annoying bleating, as well as your own as you greeted them.

If only he could roll his nonexistent eyes...

For the Red Crown's vessel to marry their most devoted follower was one thing...but to have a child with them, too??

That's something he didn't expect when he first arrived into the cult. It probably wouldn't have bothered him so much if you weren't half-sheep and chose to annoy him in particular.

He's not sure how much time had passed between your birth and Lamb "saving" him and his siblings from purgatory...but you've grown into quite the irritable spawn.

You only proved his point when you returned a few minutes later, and he slammed the chest closed, making you stop in your tracks.

"The clopping of your hooves gives me a headache sometimes..what is it now?"

"Lammy asked me to ask you if um...you could lead the harvest ritual this evening?" You smiled up at him, oblivious to his attitude and snappy words.

".....they couldn't just ask me themselves??!" He groaned. "Fine. Tell them I will begin it at sundown. And I'm not waiting for everyone. If they're late, oh well."

"Will do! Thank you, Lesh!!"

The green bushworm huffed and tried going back to his work, only to become startled when you rammed into him, hugging his torso tightly. It made him tense up as he hissed angrily at you. "Don't touch!!!"

You let him go, confused. "Why?"

"Because....!!!" Leshy paused, having remembered that Lamb was likely close by, watching him. So he took a moment to think of another excuse. "...because..you may get ichor in your wool. We bishops haven't fully healed yet..so you may get sick."

"Ohhhhh, I see it. Sorry, Lesh! I'll be more careful next time!"

Nodding, he heard you leave to tell your parent what he said, and he was convinced you were officially gone for good this time.

Then his ears picked up the sound of a wheezy chuckle.

"I hear you, sister..."

"Brother...is...warming up....to them.." Heket teased as she approached her younger brother, nudging his elbow playfully.

"As if! I only put on the act because Lamb's around." He scoffed, shaking his head. "They won't hesitate to make me relive my death again if I do anything to upset their little spawn.."

"Hm..good...luck. I'm...hungry...bye...." The red frog decided to leave him alone and head to the kitchen station.

And for a while, Leshy was able to finish his tasks at the farm without any disturbances. But just as he brushed the dirt off his hands and was ready to eat, too, he overheard Lamb talking with a random follower who hollered their name from across the base.

They spoke of having trouble confessing to someone they liked...so they wanted their leader to get flowers from his realm as a "gift" for this crush of theirs.

He thought it was outrageous.

'Does nobody here want to lift a finger anymore?! Or maybe..they're just too scared to enter my realm...so it must be doing well even without me to rule it. But if Lamb's going there, then.....no...would they..?'

It suddenly dawned on Leshy, and he scratched his bandages, finally remembering something that has been weighing heavily on his mind:

A relic.

Specifically a piece of him that was lost to the woods.

He remembers commanding the worms to hide it for him so none of his devotees tried to seize its power for themselves.

For as long as he's been in Lamb's cult, he learned they were an excellent scavenger--willing to retrieve bundles of silk or crystals for their more artsy followers, and even mushrooms for those who were "curious" about them.

They've reunited friends and siblings...even the ones who killed their entire species.

Surely, he could ask them about it.

It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

After the follower left, Leshy walked over to you and Lamb, ignoring your greeting of excitement when he arrived, as well as him making no effort to stop you from playing with his tail. It just swished around, and you kept jumping over it like some rope.

"Lamb. Just so we're clear..this is not a favor, I do not need your charity." He warned.

"...okay? What is it?" They tilted their head, closing their doctrine book.

"Well...when dear brother Narinder struck us in his fury, my eyes were torn from the socket. One was salvaged, and hidden in the tangled Darkwood. I despair at the thought of it being uncovered by some simple-minded beast..."

He took a pause, before sighing. "You have navigated my realm once before, do so again and recover my eye. Perhaps we can...make an arrangement."

As expected, Lamb was adamant. "Why should I find something that your "dear brother" took? Why don't you ask him since it's his fault? Or maybe you can go find it yourself?"

"You know I can't. If he goes, he'll lie and claim it's gone forever. If I go, all of Darkwood will be out for my head!" He huffed. "I thought it was your duty to cater to your followers' needs. You've never sent one back into the maw of Silk Cradle to find their lost brother, even though it's their fault for-"

"That's different, Leshy. You don't get to group yourself with them just yet." They warned, scowling at him. "They don't know these realms like you do. They have good hearts, led astray by your hubris and corruption. You were a rotten bishop who ruined their lives..ruined my life...and on that note, you've shown my child nothing but disrespect since the moment you arrived."

At the mention of you, you stopped playing around and frowned. "Lammy-"

"Disrespect?! They've been following me nonstop and disrupting my work!!" He exploded. "But of course you'll never believe me because they're such a "perfect little angel" in your eyes-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH, WRETCHED WORM!!!"

Suddenly, Leshy felt his throat tightening up as his feet were lifted off the ground. And he coughed, clasping his hands around his neck as he realized what was happening to him:

Lamb was strangling him.

And there's no way for him to fight the invisible force that kept crushing his windpipe. He could only gag and beg for mercy, becoming panicked quickly as the ichor dripped down his face faster.

Why did this feel more agonizing than the sharp blades that sliced and diced into him dozens of times?

"Never forget the god who usurped you and granted vermin like you the blessing of redemption.." The sheep snarled, eyes glowing red with rage, sharp teeth bared as they watched the bushworm writhe. "Speak illy of my child again, and I will-"

"Lammy, stop it!! You're hurting him!"

They felt a tug on their cloak and looked at you, having forgotten that you've been standing there the entire time. A look of horror flashed in their eyes as they quickly set Leshy down, allowing him to catch his breath.

"Oh no..I...forgive me, my dear." Embracing you, they gave you a tiny smile after their demonic features disappeared. "I-I didn't mean to make you see that, but...you must understand why I did it, right? He was being very rude and unkind to-"

"He didn't mean it." You pouted, although you did hug them back. "Will you find his eye?"

Leshy glanced up in bewilderment.

Did he hear you correctly?

Lamb was just as stunned that you were taking his side, blinking. "But [y/n]-"

"No! You have to find it, Lammy! He's only grouchy because he doesn't have his missing eye." Your gaze went to the bushworm. "I bet if you find it for him, he'll feel better!"

"...I suppose you're right about that." They sighed in defeat, standing up and turning to him. "You are fortunate that my child has such a forgiving heart, so...I will search for your eye when I have the time. But remember that I'm doing this for them, not for you."

Leshy just nodded in understanding, awkwardly scratching his bandages as he heard hoof steps walking away from him. Yet he was too afraid of moving from his kneeling position.

"It's okay. It's just me, Lesh."

Feeling your smaller hands take his own, his shoulders relaxed a little as you brushed some of the ichor off his face with a cloth you found. "Don't cry, it's okay now."

"I-I..had it coming." He finally found his voice, still shaken up over the altercation. "It's my fault. I was the one acting more childish than you..and I owe you an apology for-"

"No, Lammy should be sorry." You frowned and hugged him. "I don't like it when they do that. You're right..they should help everyone here. Even you."

This time he didn't push you away and instead wrapped his arms around you, feeling the wool on top of your head and the nubs that would soon sprout into horns.

Lamb was right.

He felt blessed to have your forgiveness...or else he surely would have met a grim demise.

Maybe you weren't as annoying as he previously thought.

"..thank you, [y/n], for standing by me. Will you...let me know when your parent returns with my eye?" He hesitated to ask.

Yet you immediately answered with enthusiasm.

"Of course!"

..........

"Sister! My child's green thumb continues to flourish!"

"....you....have...child...?"

"Over there!"

"...Lamb's....spawn-?"

"No, no! That is [y/n]!" Leshy huffed, shaking his head as he heard you rapidly approaching. Then he crouched down with a smile, keeping his arms open so you could rush into them. "How are you today?"

"Great, Lesh!!" You giggled as he picked you up, although he sensed that you put something on his head. "It's a camelia crown. The most beautiful ones I could find! I feel sad you can't see it, though..."

"That is alright, little one. I still remember their colors and radiance.." His claws reached up to gently brush the petals, humming with nostalgia. "Its fragrance remains constant..so I know it's always here with me. Thank you."

Looking at Heket, you giggled again as you saw that her extra pair of eyes were now open, wide with disbelief at her brother's sudden change of heart. "Hek-Hek! I didn't know you had four eyes!"

"...what did...you do...to...brother?" She squinted in suspicion.

"Well, umm..I-" You stammered, trying to explain yourself.

"They insisted that Lamb recovered my eye." Leshy was quick to explain, setting you down on the ground. "At first they refused and got irrationally angry with me for "insulting" their child. But [y/n] spoke up in my defense and...their "Lammy" listened and retrieved it this morning. Looks like it was in one of Chemach's lairs, but I let them keep it."

"Huh.....why..?"

"It's more useful to them as a relic. It's not like I can reattach my own eye and see out of it again, but I find peace knowing it's here."

"...good...point..." Heket paused, before touching her own throat and thinking for a few moments. "Would...Lamb....find....it for..me...?"

"A throat sac? Hmm..you can certainly try, sister."

Nodding in understanding, she turned and walked away, eager to ask Lamb if they were willing to recover what she had lost within Anura.

Once she was gone, you tapped Leshy on the arm. "Can you help me get the fertilizer for the plants? It's....kinda icky and really smelly."

He smiled as well, patting the top of your head. "Of course, little one. You can leave all the "icky" work to me."

And with that, you both set off to the farming plot, with him not being bothered by your presence anymore.

[ostdrossel]

I love all of your bird baths and the photos you share of the visitors! I was wondering if you could share a bit about setting up a bird bath and how to make it attractive to birds? I am planning to put one out and would love some tips!

Hi, thank you for the kind words. I pretty much winged the whole thing, to be honest. I got myself a solid plastic pond liner that holds 40 gallons (not huge), a pump (medium-sized and with a box to protect it from too much grime), dug a hole, put the liner in, added the pump (with a hose attached to it) and then filled the thing with rocks. A bird bath for song birds needs to be shallow, and since birds come in different sizes, I tried to create areas with different "terrain" and depth. Birds like to perch, so some rocks are sticking out a bit. I like a ground bath because critters need to drink too, and that makes it easier for them. Ideally, the area should have some shrubst and thicket that birds can easily escape to in case of danger. I clean it about every two weeks by dumping some bleach in, covering it for a bit (maybe an hour), and then pumping the old water out and refilling until I don't smell bleach anymore. I have been doing this for a couple of years now, and it is the only thing that gets the crud out. There are frogs and toads that visit and hang out there (never saw frog spawn), so things seem to be safe. I use the rocks to hide what I don't want to be seen on camera, make things pretty and also to get the birds to sit where they are in focus. The hose that is connected to the pump can be used to make a little waterfall or just cause some commotion in the water. Birds get lured in by the sound of water. Try things out, experiment, it is a lot of fun and very rewarding to see them go for it.

[invertcolor]

God... I hate angst and drama in fanfics. Especially when the reason is made up out of thin air. Drama for drama's sake. Ugh. It's disgusting. In the bad sense of the word. And you know why? Because humor is hard to write. Romance is boring. And to come up with a normal plot you need brains and imagination, which some people lack. So you're left with meaningless drama. Just because it's easy. We live in a world where there's a lot of drama, so it's really easier to write than to come up with a plot. But... It's so boring already. It's not interesting anymore. Personally, I have enough misery in my life. And I don't want to read about the suffering of my favorite characters, just because someone is too lazy to grow over themselves and come up with something interesting. It's just a frog at the bottom of a well. There are so many plots in the world, something interesting. But the most popular fanfics are banal drama for drama's sake. I honestly don't get it. It's so boring and it's been done a million times. But... It's an individual thing. Some people like it, some people don't. I don't like it.

[littlewestern]

Ducky

You spoil me!

Duck is probably my favorite toy to mash together with other engines during shipping playtime, probably as a result of him just having so many great interactions with some of the best characters in the series and enough material to work with to extrapolate what other relationships outside of canon might look like. He's just so complex and likable! Many thousands of words have been dedicated to everyone's favorite pannier tank engine. Here's a few more:

OLIVER:

Hi. I'm the problem, it's me.

I love this ship and my love only grows stronger every day. To me, this ship elicits the same kind of reaction as seeing a frog on a lily pad or a cat napping in the sunlight. Like, "Yeah, that's exactly how it's supposed to be. :)"

Outside of vibes-based ship assessment, and more to the point: I love this ship because it really highlights how differently these two characters approach their shared identity, how their experiences shaped their worldview and how that's impacted the way they feel about their old railway, their new home, and each other.

Duck has never borne the burden of questioning his identity. His relationship to the GWR is uncomplicated. He loved it, he misses it, and espousing its virtues to these NWR engines is not only something he feels he has to do, it's something he enjoys doing!

Oliver - notably - does not behave like Duck. I have chosen to interpret this as a sign that his experience with the GWR wasn't the same as the one Duck had. To what degree it was different is up for debate, but I think it's reasonable to assume that it wasn't great, or at the very least, wasn't enough to engender that same loyalty in him that it did in Duck.

But here they are, together on Sodor, and Oliver isn't out here telling everyone about the two ways of doing things, but he *is* working very hard and wearing his colors (that he had no say in picking, because this was for Duck's branch line), because out here they're all each other has of their past life, and it clearly means a lot to Duck.

I like to imagine that Duck sees and appreciates the effort being put forth here, that it softens him on Oliver a lot after the turntable incident. And gosh that GWR green makes him look a lot like home...

In my ideal world, Oliver starts looking-looking at Duck when it becomes clear that Douglas isn't an option anymore (more on that in another ask, perhaps?), and Duck who has always sorta been looking-looking since Oliver got painted green starts responding to that attention with an acknowledgement that Oliver is doing his best. I think previously, Duck would have been reluctant to offer that kind of verbal affirmation considering what happened the last time Oliver got compliments, but I think it really does make Oliver feel good to be told that he's worked hard and done well - especially considering the adverse circumstances he's faced up to this point. One imagines that he didn't get that kind of praise on the GWR very often, and definitely didn't get it on the BR. It's enough to go to your head a little bit, except he's already learned that lesson once and doesn't want to lose ground by disappointing again.

That being said, I think this is a relationship that works best in the short-term. Duck and Oliver are both grown enough that they can satisfy a passing infatuation and move on without anyone's feelings getting hurt, which is one of my favorite things about them as characters. It would be good for both of them. Duck, I imagine, lacks experience with this sort of thing and Oliver is a very easygoing engine to practice your moves on, and Oliver gets to come away from it feeling better and more secure in his place on the branch line and in Duck's life in general. They get to have a nice Great Western Time about it and then move on, and I love that for them so much.

DONALD:

Alright, we all knew this one was coming.

Donald. Is so great. I don't think I've yet written why I love Donald so much, but that's more of a personal failing than anything since I know at least one person has asked previously and I definitely just forgot to reply in a timely manner. While we can't remedy that in full here, a quick rundown:

Donald is one of those guys who is in the enviable position of being everything desirable to other engines in one convenient package. He's clever, hardworking, funny, devastatingly handsome, whip-smart, reliable and wholly singular (despite being a twin). You like him and you want him to like you back just as much!

All engines love attention, and this one is no exception. And unlike his brother, I think this absolutely goes to his head at times. Donald could easily land any engine he wants, but he's enjoying the freedom too much to let the burden of choosing slow him down. He's having fun flirting with the rest of the railway, why should he have to commit?

Of course Duck is not immune to Donald's charms, but he's also not built to make a game out of his feelings the way Donald does. If you can have any engine you want, why would you settle for Duck? I've got time, Donald thinks. None of us are going anywhere. I like the way he looks at me, and I'm having fun so what's the problem?

Unfortunately, this comes across as Donald toying with his boss's affections, which... [Everyone disliked that.]

Douglas especially hates what's going on here. He's like, "You're going to get hurt or hurt him and then neither of us will be welcome back here. They'll stick us in Great Waterton or send us away like what happened when Duck was quibbling with that diesel engine."

Donald just rolls his eyes and tells his corny romantic of a brother that he's worrying too much, it's all just fun. Just a couple of friends having a good time, nothing to be concerned about.

And It becomes immediately concerning when Duck and Oliver start making eyes at each other across the yard and Duck stops looking at Donald at all. Sure, they're still friendly but Duck doesn't make those flush-faced little expressions at him anymore or laugh all sweet-like when Donald flirts with him. It's so concerning.

It's so concerning that Donald has to go reaffirm how desirable he is by scurrying to every corner of Sir Topham Hatt's railway and propositioning every pompous tender engine he can get in contact with.

He makes a pass at Gordon (who turns him down flat). He makes a pass at Flying Scotsman (who turns him down much more gently). he asks Mavis if she'd kill him for asking Spencer to double-head with him and she just laughs in his face. Donald's whole world is falling apart and Duck doesn't even care because he's having Great Western Hours with Oliver at the shed where they both sleep next to each other every night and this was NOT how this was supposed to go!!!!!!

Douglas can only tut gently and say, "I dinnae want to say I told ye so, but..." and Donald just tears off in a huff. Meanwhile every time Donald catches Oliver's eyes in the yard, Oliver just looks at him all smug-like. Just dreadful. 0/10 experience, completely humiliating.

Of course, because I am a hopeless sucker for romance, when Oliver and Duck have closed that brief chapter of their relationship, Donald gets to turn up, hat-in-hand, and apologize for everything. And Duck forgives him because he's a fucking catch and Donald should have seen that from the jump. Everyone gets their happy ending!

I'd go into why they're good for each other, except better writers than me have already done so and I've taken up so much of your time already. If you made it this far, you're a peach. Thanks for the ask!

[otomes-and-tears]

Hi, me again ( yepee ) hope you won't mind... But i love my gurl Tamarack so may i request headcanons of step 1 Tamarack with a selective mute mc who only talks when they are alone ? ( because they like her or any other reason )

♦ Step 1! Tamarack with a Selectively mute MC♦

► tags and warnings: -

► words: 486

► A/N: Let's pretend like I didn't take like, eight months, to get to this request I'M SO SORRY BESTIE I AM REALLY BAD AT THIS

► Masterlist

It doesn't really matter if MC doesn't speak to her at first, because Tamarack is more than willing to talk for both of them;

As long as MC is doing something to engage with Tamarack-- be it pointing out frogs, helping her collect mushrooms and smooth rocks or running after her when they're playing catch, then Tamarack would be happy to fill out all silence with her own chatter;

I do think that as a kid she'd be curious about why they don't talk and would flat out point it out, but she'd back off and apologise if she noticed it was a touchy subject;

Of course, being a kid and not having an explanation meant that Tamarack would often come up with her own theories as to why MC didn't speak;

Maybe their voice got stolen by a fae or a sea witch;

Or their voice was so, so pretty it would bewitch anyone lucky enough to hear it!;

When MC gets comfortable enough to use their voice with her, she would have a lot of difficulty keeping her excitement to herself;

She'd jump up and down and grab MC's hands and really softly ask them to repeat themselves because even if Tamarack feels she's about to explode from happiness, she doesn't want to spook them too much;

And speaking a bit quieter is Tamarack's own way of containing herself;

At first, she'd just assume that MC's quietness was due to them moving to a new place;

As much as she loves her Omi and Opa and the forest in their backyard, she knows first-hand how scary moving can be;

So in her mind, it was logical that once MC saw that Golden Grove wasn't scary anymore, they'd start talking again;

But she realises soon enough that that wasn't exactly the case, and that they only ever seemed to talk around her;

Tamarack would be a little confused at first, but quickly adapt to the new circumstances;

Well, as best friends they were always together anyway;

So Tamarack was proud to adopt the role of MC's interpreter;

If they felt comfortable whispering things to her, then they'd just need to pull on her overalls or sleeves to grab her attention and whisper what they needed to convey and she would proudly relay the message;

Once they got to know each other better it'd be much easier for her to figure it out without it being said;

Like-- she'd order food for MC without them needing to relay their usual order for her again because she already had it memorised;

I think that Tamarack would feel a lot of pride at being able to be entrusted with something as important as this;

Oh, and if anyone asked her why MC never spoke;

I think Tamarack would come up with a new story every time;

That's when all the stories she made up would come in handy;

[riddlerosehearts]

got myself thinking about my own personal experiences with frozen, and why the first movie means enough to me to be my favorite of all time, and thought i might as well just go ahead and post about it in case there's anyone who wants to read it. although i'm not great with words, so this post will probably be too long and feel too silly and over the top, and i should also warn that this is a lot of very personal information, but:

i saw frozen in theaters on its opening weekend in 2013. i hadn't listened to any of the songs in advance at all--i've avoided listening to the soundtracks for new disney movies prior to seeing them in theaters ever since i saw princess and the frog in 2009, because i feel like i enjoy my first experience with the movie and the music more that way. although i may have already overheard snippets of let it go back then just because it was so popular. i honestly don't remember too clearly because my strongest memory by far of hearing let it go for the first time is being absolutely blown away by it in the theater.

so. i've had depression and social anxiety since i was a kid, and, although i didn't know this until several years after frozen was released, i'm autistic as well. so dealing with all of these things at once, combined with the fact that i had no idea i was autistic, made me think i just couldn't ever fit in with anyone because i was weird and there was something wrong with me. for most of my life i never had any friends and i thought i had to hide from people as much as possible. which i do think is at least a little justified by the fact that the whole time i was in school from fifth grade through tenth grade--after tenth grade my parents finally pulled me out of public school and i was homeschooled, something i'd honesty been begging them to do--i was bullied and betrayed by friends in various ways because i was weird and didn't fit in. i won't go into details, but the fact that i knew while still in public school that i was bisexual also played into this.

so seeing elsa's parents hide her from the world because she had something that made her different from others, seeing her be taught to "conceal, don't feel" and called a monster, just hit me very hard when i first saw the movie. i interpreted her as having developed depression and anxiety like i did (and now, ever since 2016 when i discovered that i was autistic, i've also liked to headcanon her as such) and just felt so incredibly happy to see her proudly proclaim that she wasn't going to hold back and hide who she was anymore, letting herself freely use her powers, and decide that even if she had to be alone, at least she was free.

and then, seeing how anna fought so hard to get elsa to come home and make sure she knew that she didn't have to be alone and that she wasn't unloved, and seeing the people of arendelle accept her wholeheartedly as she created an ice skating rink at the end, gave me so much hope for myself. as did reading the "sisterhood is the strongest magic" books and other things like the various frozen comics, and watching frozen fever and olaf's frozen adventure, and seeing that elsa truly was accepted by her people, that she was capable and loved as queen and had a home, that anna and kristoff and all the people of arendelle appreciated her as she was, would be there when she felt anxious or needed a shoulder to cry on, and didn't at all believe that her powers made her weird and out of place with them. all of this just gave me so, so much comfort throughout the years and still does all of this time later.

i know a lot of people are sick of frozen and find it to be overhyped, and everyone certainly has the right to their opinion! but elsa is basically tied with one other fictional character as my favorite of all time, i love anna and kristoff and yes, even olaf, very dearly, and i do believe that the movie deserves all of the love it gets. i find it so beautiful that people can read elsa's powers and her story as an allegory for so many different things and connect with her and find comfort in her in so many different ways. i can hardly believe that it's been over 10 years since the movie came out, over 10 years since i saw elsa transform her stuffy coronation gown into that beautiful flowing ice dress and sing about finally letting herself be who she really was. maybe loving frozen even half as much as i do is "cringy", but this is my own personal tumblr blog and i will be as cringy as i want! and besides, the cold never bothered me anyway. i'm sorry, i couldn't resist saying that.

[cambria-writes]

Teaser

How do you love?

Like a fist. Like a knife. But I want to be more like a weed, a small frog trembling in air.

[Cries a little.]

Did you live?

Even better, I lived. Even more, I lived. Even better, I am living.

And fear?

I’m not afraid of hate anymore. What do we do with grief? Lug it; lug it. I would do it again.

— Ada Limón, The Good Fight from Bright Dead Things

A teaser for the Astarion x bard!Reader that won the poll! I'm rewriting chapter 2 currently because the first write up felt a little too... hectic, awkwardly paced and just not very good. It's at nearly 4k at the moment and I'm aiming for 5k before moving onto chapter 3. Which I've also already started lol.

Enjoy this 361 word teaser!

Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged when I start posting. :)

This felt like a good idea at first. While grinding down the rough edges and sanding the surfaces smooth, it felt like a kind gesture. Currently, however, it feels like maybe you might have given Astarion even more to relentlessly tease and bully you with.

You keep your eyes on the wooden slats in front of you. See Astarion slowly reach for the pendant to hold it up in front of his own eyes. You swallow thickly and motion to the candle at the edge of your desk.

“If you hold it up to the light, it looks better.”

He wordlessly nods and follows your directions. The stays motionless for several seconds, and you’re having to remind yourself to breathe. His expression doesn’t change at all, and that makes you even more nervous.

This feels like the riverside all over again. You never know how Astarion will accept kindness, you realize.

“...I don’t understand why you would give this to me if it reminds you of me,” he eventually says, though his eyes are still riveted to the flame-like starburst of the stone. “Why would I keep it?”

You flounder for a second and do your best to try and remain composed. I just wanted to isn’t going to be an acceptable answer. When Astarion turns his gaze to you, otherwise unmoving, you hold a hand up.

“Give me a second,” you rush to say, biting the inside of your cheek and looking down at the wood of your desk to think. There has to be a string of words you can put together that will make sense, even to someone like Astarion. Surely.

Some bard you are.

“I suppose,” you start slowly, placing your palms flat on the desk. Astarion brings his arm down. You don’t see what he does with the pendant. “I wanted you to have something that meant someone thought kindly of you.”

You expect to see a sneer on his face, or something akin to disgust, maybe revulsion. But, no, he’s returned to examining you again. You feel the tadpole squirming behind your eye and squint against the discomfort. Is he trying to...?

Well, fair enough.

I have no idea if this is going to get smutty or not. I might dodge it, I might include it, I'm not sure yet. It's probably definitely going to be a slow burn, I just don't know how hot the burn's going to get I guess!

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Break Me Down

Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: Angst, hurt/no comfort, slight smut

“We should forget this happened.”

It takes one sentence from him to ruin your time together and knock off the barely stable balance you had managed to keep over the last few days.

The news about Geto, his leaving, his murders, his execution notice, it all felt like a blur to your hazy and overstimulated mind. The words “kill on sight” haunt you even now.

Still, you realize it was definitely going to hurt Satoru even more, and you were the one who sought him out to ask how he was dealing with it all.

You feel stupid now for caring about what he was feeling beneath all the jokes and bravado. He’s not one for opening up, not to everyone truly, but he simply looked so unnervingly raw when you found him, stripped bare of happier emotion from head to toe, expression sunken, head low, and eyes dark.

It was obvious he was hurting, and you simply wanted to provide comfort. A small voice, asking how he was feeling because the look on his face was heartbreakingly sad. A warm body to hug his own because when you grabbed his hand it felt like burning in ice.

And really this is your fault for thinking all those little moments: all the jokes, the awkwardness you’d sense from him given the right look, how he’d tense and look like he swallowed a frog whenever you were left alone with him for too long meant anything. You never openly mentioned about it, but you had hoped there would be a little truth to the things others, mostly Geto, teased him about when it came to you. Just a little at least.

It all seems like a faraway dream instead of something that was happening only minutes ago, when everything seemed so warm but now he was being so cold. You want to scream but you don’t want him to have any more reason to leave.

“Gojo, please,” you start, unsure what you even wanted to say, and the words stick in your throat like glue.

“We both know this was a mistake.”

“We?" You'd scoff if you didn't think you'd start crying from the motion. "You’re the one who started this.”

“And I didn’t mean for this to happen, but it did,” he admits hollowly, blue eyes avoiding yours as he focuses his sights on the floor, refusing to look at you when only moments before those same eyes made you feel like the only one in the world. Foolish to think you’d be that important to someone like him.  

You grip the sheets tight under you, hoping to calm your tremors, but your voice still shakes. Gojo could’ve stopped before he enchanted you with his sweet kisses, before he stripped you bare, laid eyes on your naked form, and fucked you like he actually cared about you too.

“You had plenty of time to stop before now.”

“You're right. No argument there."

You’re not sure if he knows exactly how much he’s hurting you, how your heart is searing under your chest as if a hot poker was piercing through it, or if he’s trying to hurt you on purpose. If he was, it was working.

You feel so stupid falling for those disgustingly soft kisses on your skin, his arms wrapping around you, and the touch of his smooth fingers treading along your body.

You’re sniffling now, and you hate the feeling of being this pathetic in front of someone who used you. You hate the fact that you still love him when he finally braves meeting your puffy gaze. His face isn’t raw anymore, bare with a full display of emotions you’ve never seen from him. It’s closed, guarded, and you know there’s no way you will ever reach past the wall around him.

“Go, just, go. I don't want to see you.”

You hate it makes you want to cry more when he did.

[mara-and-its-the-same]

it is time for a change, I know this may seem excessive, but I love having celebrations and also I need to make sure the message gets out there ya know?

anyway, @storyofaromance and @starlit-epiphany have both been very reassuring, and then so has @goddess-coded, but in different ways. So this is my re-coming out as genderqueer I guess, but we all knew that. But also I'm rebranding, sooooo I've decided that I don't feel very connected to Della anymore, I still love it, but Mara feels closer to me, and also it doesn't autocorrect to anything, which is a bonus when making tags. So I'll be going by both, call me whatever your heart desires, I'm just a little She/they, with too many names, having too much fun <;3 so here is the theme of "Songs with names for titles" <3

nav

☙Arabella❧ Send me a description/pictures of your style and tell me about yourself and I'll tell you what fandom you belong in and give you some HCs <3

☙Jolene❧ Send me song recommendations and i'll tell you what i think of them/lines that stick out to me and i'll recommend something I think you'll like <3

☙Come On Eileen❧ Mood boards for anything you like (your blog, a song, band, character + au, the usuals, whatever you think of)

☙Diana❧ Love letters, for da moots

☙See Emily Play❧ GAMES!!! the usual, fmk, cym etc etc

☙Seamus❧ Send me things that remind you of me and i'll say what reminds me of you <3

☙Jamie's Cryin❧ Send me something, anything at all, a name, a band, a song, a word, a book and I'll tell you what colors I associate with it. (ex. the number 8 and the color peacock blue)

☙Coraline❧ I didn't post this originally because I forgot but then i didn't want to but then i did so now we're here, SHIPS, I love ships, tell me as much as you're comfortable with about yourself, send a fandom and gender preference, and I'll ship you and give you some head canons <3

moots my darlings: @thebestieyoureinlovewith @starstruckmoony @odairsangel @bunny-ki-naina @dewdropdummy @sincerelyyoursg @toadstool-amongst-the-tulips @shefollowedthestars @starlit-epiphany @angry-little-frog @unadulterated-syd @loverliner @diorgirl444 @sp1rit-realm @siriusownsmyheart @meredarling @ifthiswasamovie1989 @munsonsreputation @on-my-contrarian-sh1t @babyrunsforfanfic @esperisdrunkinwonderland @masivechaos @mapleransom-blog @bug-boy32 @finnyboob @beezywriting @writingsbybirdie @steviesnailbat @katsu28 @loving-and-dreaming @maroon-winestain

[willowser]

okay haven't stopped thinking about this since the self-ship game but. on-again-off-again with touya is so heart-breaking.

he's always had his own shitty one-bedroom, but he stayed with you more often than not. claimed it was because you were closer to his job at the bar, but the drive is similar if not a smidge closer. you don't personally think it's worth it, but he does. or did, once.

you're looking at the two boxes of his things that are sitting by the door: a near-drawer full of clothes, bags of random jewelry, two pairs of his shoes, the dish towels he keeps "accidentally" stealing from work, as well as a few of their nicer glasses. photos you don't want to look at. even his shampoo and body-wash is packed away, because you can't stand to smell it anymore.

that's when your phone rings.

it's much too late for you to be awake, but you are, and the number coming across your screen isn't necessarily touya's but it is the number for the bar, so you hesitate in answering. watching and waiting, as it rings in your hand, before deciding to indulge in whatever heart-break he's got ready for you tonight.

—but it's keigo: "hey, i need you to come pick up touya."

you frown at that, and then deeper at the noise in the background. "what? where's his car?"

"he—" a heavy sigh scratches over the line, and his voice is strained, like he's struggling to hold something heavy in his arms. he's always been very friendly, charming; you've never heard him so stressed. "he can't drive. i just need you to come get him."

worry is a weighted stone in your stomach. "what do you mean he can't drive?"

touya's been sober for 16 months, something he's admittedly been very proud of. his longest stint yet, he'll tell you, and he's gone through hell not to break the streak. no matter how hard it was, no matter how tempting giving in sounded. he's turned back into his addictions in the past when you two have split, but you had faith in him this time. you really, really did.

"he just can't, alright? please?"

of course you go. and when you pull up in the parking lot, they're both standing outside, keigo with a half-empty bottle of water in his hands and a frown marring his pretty face. touya's back is to you, and he would almost look normal, if not for the swaying. you don't realize how bad it is until takami is throwing touya's arm over his shoulder and near dragging him across the pavement.

you only watch on, heart heavy, as he's shuffled into your car like a child, mumbling to himself as keigo buckles his searbelt. the car is immediately flooded with the sharp, bitter smell of alcohol and too many cigarettes, and you knew what the truth was, you knew, but you'd hoped for another answer, some bullshit excuse as to why he couldn't drive.

the reality burns; behind your eyes, deep in your nose, the back of your throat.

"call me tomorrow," keigo tells him, too-serious. "and we can figure out your car and stuff." he huffs at the ghost of a smile on touya's pale face, before looking across the seats to you. "i'm sorry, i really am, but his sister would fucking flip if i called her."

"no," touya mumbles again, voice scratchy like he's been yelling. "why the fuck would you call my sister, you perv?"

keigo only shakes his head before sighing again, and then he's leaning back and closing the car door without another word. you've never seen him so—annoyed; you can only imagine what touya's been up to tonight, to make him so.

alone, neither of you say anything, for a while. that haunting smile is still playing on his lips, as his head lolls back and forth with every speed bump you crawl over, and occasionally you can feel him watching you from across the console.

there are—one-thousand and one things you could say, but he wouldn't remember a single one. and so you don't bother.

he does, though, eventually, grin blooming in full. "know you fuckin' miss me."

you shake your head in an attempt to get rid of the tears, swallowing the frog sitting in your throat. he won't remember this. he won't. "of course i miss you, touya."

he laughs once, a small, airy sound, before he's turning to look out the window. your honesty has always caught him off guard. "yeah," he murmurs, smile drooping as reality burns him, in return. "miss you, too."