dandelionjade

[dandelionjade]

Ya'll I need to admit something not once have i ever thought Dori was a child I've just been thinking she had dwarfism

And just to be clear I have no logical reason for coming to this conclusion. I just saw the bare minimum of some of her personality traits and like the couple of appearances she made in the main story and just thought ah adult with dwarfism

[dandelionjade]

Can someone tell mai to stop with this and this before i really go insane fr

[dandelionjade]

Her wings...

[dandelionjade]

my brain is fucking sloww i just realized i dont have natlan unlocked and well refuse to unlock natlan— till I do the other archon quests—

and since i have mavuika i wont be able to get her past level forty 🧍

[dandelionjade]

GUYS. escoffier x furina. we should call them coffeecake

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This day of wrath will burn you into ashes, cursed, into eternal flames

[dandelionjade]

rui

[dandelionjade]

Cannot resist drawing Subaru hehe💜💜💜

[dandelionjade]

~Queen Daenerys "Stormborn" Targaryen, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, the Prince that Was Promised, Azor Ahai reborn~

+ her three lil darlings 🥰💖

[dandelionjade]

1.2k words of angst ft. regular au! childhood friend rui

when rui shows up at your door again, it is with glistening eyes and moon streaked through his hair and the telltale signs of yet another heartbreak cut into his face.

you step back wordlessly and shut the door behind him. it is an age-old routine you follow: sit him down on the couch, grab his favourite blanket from the nearby drawer, retreat behind the countertop to fetch him a glass of water. it must be especially bad if he’s here like this; you can tell the wounds are fresh. you string together the information you have while the drink pours. her name is fumiko. she’s studying journalism and works as a barista at the campus café. you liked her a lot when you met her — intelligent, sweet, funny.

“drink up,” you say quietly, setting the glass across from him. the blanket is on his lap, still folded. he doesn’t look at you. “you wanna talk about it?”

a sad, hollowed-out laugh. your stomach prickles.

“sorry,” rui says, easy and smiling in a way he knows you hate but you know he can’t help. he’s always like this, in the beginning. the deeper things take some coaxing to come up. “i wasn’t really thinking when i came here.”

you hum. you never are, a part of you wants to say. you shouldn’t have it in you to be soft with him — not after years and years of this. a part of you is sick of being run to, of piecing him back together, of wrapping your hands up on your own every time his fragments pierce the flesh of your palms. rui isn’t the only one who’s bleeding. rui isn’t the only one who hurts—

a quiet sob escapes him, a hand flying up to cover his mouth, and all the thoughts leave you in a flurry.

“hey, hey.” you soothe, voice cracking at the edges. you almost stumble over the leg of your coffee in your haste to get to him, crouching down and shoving away how your heart twists when you meet his eyes as best you can.

(a memory flashes through your mind just briefly, the same one as always. you are five years old in the neighbourhood playground and there is a boy with tears welling in his ruby eyes, dirt-smeared fingers slipping over his scraped knees.

what happened? you ask hesitantly as you stop in front of him, the sounds of it clumsy on your tongue, ringing high in the air of a spring afternoon. he sniffles.)

“i just— i really thought this one would work.” rui is still smiling, and you still hate it with everything you are. “guess that was pretty stupid of me, huh?”

you shake your head. “you love easily, rui. that’s not your fault.”

your fingers curl into the blanket perched on his lap, the fabric soft on your palms. as you’ve done so many times before, you lift it up and smooth it over his shoulders. a good portion of it is faded beyond recognition; you’d made it for a home economics class in high school. rui had joked that you’d sewn part of his soul into it, too the first time he wrapped it around himself during a late night study session. for a while, he argued that you had shared custody of the thing. you made him stop when he got his next girlfriend, and the blanket stayed at your place.

rui studies you for a moment, through the sheen of his tears. “you really like saying that, don’t you?”

you shrug and settle back onto your heels. “it’s true.”

rui always gets a torn sort of look on his face when you say this — a struggle between the knowledge that you’re right and the refusal to accept it which plays across his eyes in real time.

“is it?” he whispers, and you can tell that this is the moment he breaks. you nod as firmly as you can, look at him with as much softness as all your sharp things allow, and ready yourself to catch all the parts of him that are set to fall, a pattern you have long committed to memory. you know him better than you know yourself. you always will.

your next words shatter the dam, and they shatter a bit of you as well. his teeth flash in the dim light, eyes flitting shut as the walls come crashing down. it steals your breath away. it makes you feel like dying. when rui is like this — undone and beautiful and not, never yours, in what world is he ever yours? — you know you would give him anything he wants.

so you don’t fight him when he pulls you close, tears staining your shirt and the hollow of your neck, and you close your eyes and run your fingers through his hair the way you did when he had nightmares during your sleepovers back in school. it’s going to be okay, you whisper, and the words stream out in a flood that only grows more senseless as the moon gleams brighter and his grip on you trembles like he’s scared you’ll dissolve in his arms. you have your whole life to get it right. please don’t cry; i said i’d always be here, yeah? i’m not leaving, i promise. how could i? please don’t cry. please don’t cry. please don’t cry. 

an hour later, rui is fast asleep on your couch, fingers wrapped around your hands and embedded in your heart. he has a habit of clinging. you extract yourself carefully, forcing your gaze anywhere but the gentle sweep of his lashes against his cheeks, and straighten. you’d move him, but he’s a surprisingly light sleeper. hopefully, the plush of the cushions will suffice. they have before.

you are just barely moving to tiptoe away when a murmur breaks the ringing in your ears.

“don’t go.”

you don’t glance back.

“please,” rui mumbles, sleep-addled, his delirium lessening the tension in your shoulders. he doesn’t know what he’s saying. you can work with that. “you said you wouldn’t leave.”

your heart pangs. you swallow the lump in your throat down.

”i’m not leaving, rui,” you say. “just going to my room. i’ll be here in the morning.”

“no.”

you exhale soundlessly and wonder what terrible thing you must have done in a past life, to know such a curse in this one.

“don’t say it like that,” he mutters. “like you’re… like you’re some kind of afterthought.”

your throat seizes. with the threat of a sob or a laugh, you do not know. what are you if not an afterthought? what are you if not a last resort, an aid station, an option only for those who have nothing else?

“i always come back to you,” he continues, drowsy yet open in a way you cannot possibly ignore. your nails slice crescent moons across your palms. if you shut your eyes tightly enough, you can imagine crossing out a future with him in it, disturbing the leylines mapping out your fate although you know that if your destiny was ever to be written in anyone’s hand it would be his—

“goodnight, rui,” you say, quietly.

you shut the door behind you.

[dandelionjade]

i kinda just want like. at least 1 super female presenting ghoul. i can't be the only one. and/or if i could get an all-femme version of tkdb. just. would be fun change of pace. dont get me wrong!! i love my ghouls!!! but i also like femmes, too.

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it is honestly amazing how much of writing and editing is just. logistics. like... do i use a name here or a pronoun? if i move this dialogue tag to the middle of this line and break it in half, does the end of the line hit harder that way? what if i move the tag to the front? what if i remove it entirely? ...wait, whose point of view am i in; can i reasonably say this character is appalled, or must i say they look or seem or sound appalled? is this a deliberate action or a step-removed one; is her hand closing on his shoulder, or is she closing her hand on his shoulder? environment environment environment, we need to break all this dialogue up with some narration, the scene is coming untethered. what! are! they doing! with! the rest of their bodies that are not hands! fuck fuck fuck FUCK i forgot we covered this two chapters ago and now i either need to cut this whole chunk or find a reason to reprise the conversation from earlier. name or pronoun? name or pronoun? name or pronoun? move this clause around in this sentence? oh i'll add this phrase-- nope, never mind, past!me added the same phrase two lines down. okay, if i add too much environmental narration it's going to take away from this bit, but not enough and it won't feel grounded. what if i move this to its own line? where the FUCK are their hands?

[dandelionjade]

Peekaboo pins are now available!

https://katokathy.etsy.com

[dandelionjade]

Oh my god this is hilarious.

They made that paid version free and changed the name from anime romance to urban legends

[dandelionjade]

"should we tell authors on ao3 when we have discord conversations about their fics" i don't speak for everyone here but if y'all ever find a group chat discussing my fics you can should must and WILL send me screenshots of the whole damn thing. inflate my ego. gimme

[dandelionjade]

Girl's got so much dead girl energy

Just a vibe of "yeah I'm not making it out of this one"

[dandelionjade]

Gilbert's fixation on control isnt because he wants to meld Mc into what *he* wants her to be, it's a reaction from losing everyone he loved - by having some control over mc, it helps him feel as though he can prevent similar tragedy from happening (its why he doesnt like to let her see him weak - he doesn't want it to prompt foolish actions like his mother and brother did.) (This also extends to how he wants to control who she talks to and similar).

When we see him relent control, it's because he recognizes that these are irrational behaviors that need to be kept in check (or else he could easily become like his father), meanwhile mc introduces a middleground of meeting these behaviors half-way because she can recognize where it stems from

These two things always make it clear to me that the relationship isn't a captive/captor trope or similar due to both of them recognizing the behaviors, finding ways to make them healthier for them, and working through it.

Im having some brain fog issues so god knows if this makes any damn sense