#frogwife

[luna--778]

I’ve had this sitting in the drafts for a while but I haven’t been able to Baldurs Gate as much as I’d like this past month so here’s some Lae’Heart for the soul

[amischiefofmice]

Hey did u know that one cut partially finished thing in bg3 was the elder brain mentally tormenting the party members as you went through the morphic pool area? Here's the relevent bits from the datamined dialogue files - in each of them the targeted companion isn't' named they're the string of numbers and letters, and all of the other companions dialogues is the same placeholder unfinished stuff

Astarion: (this one might be the worst, oh dear, boy not having a good time)

Gale: (oh no i might blow up. oh no.)

Halsin: (yes he's here but not karlach, minty, jaheira, or minsc)

Lae'zel: (noooo my sad frogwife!!)

Shadowheart: (goddamn girl)

Wyll: (thats so wyll)

so yeah, pretty neat! its not in game but still a neat lense into the fears they have, even near the end. I do think its interesting we do not have separate files for VampLord vs Spawn Astarion or DJShart vs uh. ShartShart, unclear if thats supposed to show they still have the same fears (which they would!!!) or just bc its well. unfinished.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

LOOK!!!

My wonderful frogwife whomst I love very much (aka @inber) managed to find and send me a Catty Noir, who is basically just IMPOSSIBLE to get here at the moment

SHE IS SO CUTE AND AWESOME 😭

(Catty is pretty nice too)

[spiribia]

i do also have distinct memories of reading a book about the frog prince but told from the perspective of a regular frog who just happened to be spectating on the prince's time as a frog and so saw him a peculiarly memorably unfroglike frog that she had to teach the ropes to and they ended up having children together but because the spawn was in a drying pond the frog was like oh sad all our babies will die well thats just how it is for frogs sometimes it happens... but the frogprince being human refused to accept this and came up with this whole elaborate plan to relocate all the eggs safely to a well and she was really impressed by his bizarre imagination in all this and had never seen anything like this and then the story ends with the frogprince just becoming human again and leaving and being like goodbye frogwife and my frog children you were the best possible wife. but the regular frog just has to watch this strange chapter of her life close without any real understanding of it and also she doesnt understand what he said. i think the book was The Prince of the Pond by donna jo napoli

[faintingcouchguy]

about:

wiz, 30s, US. I’m an editor and sing in a choir; feel free to ask about that, or most anything else. I’m on my phone a lot. xe/she/they

fire emblem sequestered @wiz-emblem

tags mentioning Frogwife, biz/wizbiz, and the triforce are about my relationships

[odetoamemorylostlongago]

Hey! I'm Atsu?

She/he/xe.

Um... Yeah.

Magical girl blah blah blah blah blah.

Just-- mm.

--

Frogwife - @the-frog-assassin

Hate This Guy Fr- @donnie-the-weeb

Lesbian, I Think - @the-rager-ever

F SLUR - @ieatdanger4breakfast

Theatre Kid. - @improv-master-mikey

Fagwife - @sankittyz

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

THAT'S

MY

FROGWIFE

"The Bee Wars of 1870"

This turned up in a thread from Caroline Hardaker on Twitter, and was attributed to "somewhere on Facebook (or maybe Discord)"... but whatever the source, I think it ought to be preserved here.

ETA: now discovering that this has been on Tumblr before (as @petermorwood just showed it to me) and the deviser of this delight, @inber, is here too. 😀 Yay!

[maid-of-the-golden-deer]

nobody has what miss piggy and kermit have

[peachjaaam]

Hello people! I made a tumblr, for my art, mood, stories, and all that. 

[gobsnacc]

“It happened when ya woke up and decided i was yer frogwife.” She chuckled as she guided the two to a small clearing and set him gently against a tree. She eyes hurt m as he spoke about having a good time.

“Well i guess ya dont gotta be completely sober, but you should be sober enough to at least be a little more aware of your surroundings and not so sleepy.” She spoke as she moved about gathering twigs. Even felling a smaller tree with her tail and busting it into useable logs. She gathered a few leavy branches and tied them together above the man to give him more shade as she set the other logs and twigs up to make a fire.

“Its not exactly safe out here man, pickpockets, thieves,wild beasts and all manner of other unsavory folks would jump at the chance to strip ya naked and sell all yer goods.” The fire crackled and she balanced herself on her tail, whick was couled below her, moving the man to lean his head in her lap.

“So, ya dont have to be completely sober, but enough that I can get you back to yer home in one piece. So non frog husband, where do ya live?” She asked as she gently brushed the hair from his face. She was glad he was drunk enough to not have lost his senses on witnessing her true form.

gobsnacc​:

Svetza sighed as she watched him try to swat her hand away. But smiles pleasently as the head petting seemed to stir him. The dumb drunken smile was cute and she couldt help but chuckle. “Hey hey welcome to the waking world man, no no bumps or bleeding, why? wait, wha- frog wife?” She bursts out laughing, it was a jovial sound that saw the green skinned woman toss her head back.

She laughed in ernest, a belly laugh that made her whole frame shake. Her eyes welled with tears and once she calmed down she smiled brightly at him. Her teeth white and razor sharp, each tooth like a small knife. She grabbed one of his arms and slung it over her shoulders, slipping a well muscled arm around him, helping the drunken man to his feet.

“Yeah, im yer frog wife, now as yer wife its my job to make sure ya dont get killed. Lets get off the side of the road and into the forest a bit. Get you sobered up with some water n’ food. Howzat sound huh? You can even put yer head on my lap.”

“Huh, really? Now when’d that happen?” he gave a lopsided grin as his cheek squished against the top of hers while his feet dragged behind—walking, but sort of shuffling along.

Well, it wasn’t every day that he found himself being hauled to his feet by a green woman that was well over a foot shorter than him, but she at least had the strength to accomplish the feat. He didn’t even know if any of this was even real, being pretty sure one of the spirits he’d partaken in had actual wormwood in it (which would explain this green… not exactly fairy, but almost), but in some weird fantasy of his mind’s creation, yeah, he could definitely see this being some kind of frog woman. The serrated teeth were even a little like his own were in sage mode. Weird.

At least he’d made her laugh, which in turn made him a little less concerned that he was being taken somewhere to be fattened up for dinner. Of all the possible people to come across a guy snoozing against a tree right by the road, this was probably the best option. Hell, he still even had cash in his pockets, which was more than he could say for most instances of waking up still half cut…

“Yeah, that sounds real wifey of ya, not gonna lie!” he laughed, allowing himself to be led through the trees, very much thankful for the shade. Much kinder on the eyes than all that glaring sunlight. “Mmmm, do I hafta get sober though? I’ve been havin’ such a good time, uh…”

Doing what? He couldn’t clearly remember. Nothing came to mind but a poker game, a drinking contest, a break-in, ferrets everywhere… and he was even pretty sure that at some point, somebody got tarred and feathered.

Those men might not even be alive anymore, and he’d never even know.

“Havin’… a good time?” he concluded hopefully after a slight delay, remembering he’d been saying something, but forgetting what his point actually was.

[offices-regionalbranch]

Anyway, here are all the ZooPals weird sex things

The Panda likes when his girlfriend edges him and humiliates his penis. This has infuriated wildlife specialists, who just needs him to procreate.

The fox is a cuck, this should be obvious.

The Rhino never shuts up about watching porn and then you’re at his apartment one day and he leaves to use the bathroom and his laptop is open and it’s a string of desperate attempts to get as young as possible starting with “Co-Ed” and ending with “barely legal” and “18th Birthday.” and then you just kinda sit on his shitty leather couch uncomfortable at the fact that he’s the gym teacher at an all girls Catholic school.

The Lion keeps his penis in a chastity cage at all times, but when you ask about it he says some shit about how he’s not a sub and it’s actually a method of “being more Alpha”. He then explains how in Jurassic Park they keep the dinosaurs in cages because they’re massive and dangerous. His girlfriend is fucking the fox’s wife.

The Frog liked feet as a joke but then he kept joking about his frogwife giving him webbed feet jobs and she started pushing him to try it. He exists in a very sexually healthy and open space with his wife, where they try new things all the time and assess each others pleasure. Now he’s getting his frogdick frogfootjobbed every tuesday.

(source:https://www.geocities.ws/bayonnepolicedept/photos.htm)

[rudyknight]

Frogwife got me acting unwise…

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

The Thawing of the Frog

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FROGWIFE!! It's @inber's birthday, which means you should all go and send her photos of frogs. And beans.

1.5k ish, sort-of-getting-there Yennskier. No warnings, unless you hate frogs, in which case: why are you here bro?

~

Yen kicked aside another pile of leaves, keeping her eyes low. It was supposedly midday, although one couldn’t tell thanks to the thick blanket of clouds that had stubbornly set over Kaer Morhen.

The woods and trails around the keep were rich with suitable components for dozens of different potions and tinctures, likely thanks to how isolated it was. No humans ever came here, and the witchers ignored all but the few flowers and herbs they needed for their own dangerous little mixtures.

She grabbed a handful of bright blue berries from a bush beside the fast-moving stream she was following, sniffed them, then quickly shoved them into the pouch at her hip. They were not what she was looking for, but they were a key component in a healing tincture that she was keen to teach to Ciri.

As she moved on, there was a wet-sounding squelch behind her, followed by a string of colourful curses.

“Oh, bloody pissing fuck.”

She turned just in time to see Jaskier pulling his leg from a particularly deep mud puddle, leaving his boot standing upright in the muck. He spotted her staring.

“Help?”

She sighed. She should just leave him to it, she knew, but if he got his socks wet she would never hear the end of it. She headed to his side and grabbed his arm, keeping him steady as he pushed his foot back into the boot and extracted himself from the mud.

“Thank you,” he said, brushing himself off as she let him go. “Eurgh. It’s disgusting out here.”

“I didn’t ask you to follow me, bard.”

“Well, no,” Jaskier said, side-stepping another puddle, “but I didn’t exactly fancy hanging around in there all alone.”

Yen rolled her eyes. He wouldn’t be alone. There were nearly half a dozen people in the keep, all busy repairing and rebuilding. It was abuzz with activity; that was why she had taken herself off into the woods.

She was about to voice the thought out loud, when she stilled. That wasn’t what he meant. It was a different kind of alone, one made more painful and palpable by how many people there were around you. Isolation in a crowded room. He was an outsider to all of this, just like her.

“Fine,” she said, “but if you fall into the stream I’m not fishing you out.”

He slipped on a rock, arms flailing.

“Noted,” he said, when he righted himself. “What are we looking for?”

“It’s a—” she stopped. She didn’t want to waste time describing the name and exact properties of the magical root she was looking for, not when he was likely barely listening anyway. “Do you know what a truffle looks like?”

Jaskier stilled where he was examining a twiggy shrub, frowning.

“The mushroomy things you find in the forests?” He said. “The stuff that kings put on their suppers?”

“Exactly.”

“Of course.” He wiped his hand on his coat. “You’re looking for truffles?”

“No,” she sighed. “It looks like a truffle. It’s a kind of root. Usually it grows near running water, hence—” she gestured at the stream, “—but it’s rare. I was hoping there would be some here, given the altitude and the lingering chaos.”

“What does it look like?”

“Dark,” she said, “Nearly black, with red veining. About the size of your fist. You should be able to dig it out, but you may need to cut the stem. Do you have a knife?”

He looked at her blankly. Of course not.

“Just… if you find something that sounds right, fetch me.”

“Right-o.”

She turned, ignoring the splash and the shout as he stepped directly into the stream. The mountain side was less steep, here, and curved easily and gently upwards. She kept her eyes to the ground, looking for flashes of red.

Jaskier followed some way behind, chatting and singing snatches of songs. After fifteen minutes of fruitlessly kicking through the leaves, she realised he had fallen silent. And then—

“Oh no.”

Yen turned. Jaskier was crouching by the stream, something held in his hands. She paused, and then, against all her better judgement, retraced her steps towards him.

“What is it?”

He stood, and she could see something small and grey-green held on his palm. She looked a little closer.

“A frog?” She was unimpressed.

“She’s frozen,” Jaskier said.

The frog was indeed frozen, covered in a thick sheen of ice, its beady eyes unblinking beneath.

“Poor little thing,” Jaskier was saying, turning it over in his hand. “What a shame, to freeze out here in the forest.”

“It’s a wood frog,” she said, peering at it.

“And?”

“And they all freeze during winter,” she said. “It defrosts in the spring, perfectly fine. I thought you were university educated. Did they teach you nothing at Oxenfurt?”

“Yes,” Jaskier spluttered at her, without letting go of the frog. “But… you know, poetry and rhetoric and art. Not bloody frog taxonomy!” She raised her eyebrows at him as he ranted on. “Is that— is that the true syllabus at Aretuza?” He said, gesturing with his free hand. “Lessons in harnessing chaos, potion making, and how to tell a wood frog from a tree frog?”

“Yes,” she said, sarcastically. “It’s an important science. It’s all very well for a potion to call for ‘toe of frog’, but what is the point if nobody has specified which frog?”

Jaskier gaped at her, pulling the little frozen frog close to his chest. “No,” he gasped.

She laughed at him, unable to help it. “I hadn’t assumed you were a fan,” she said, watching as he carefully unfurled his fingers. “I thought frogs and suchlike would be too small and slimy for your tastes.”

He gave her an offended look. “I am an artist,” he said. “I love all creatures equally.”

She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Most of them, then,” he said. “But I will admit I have a particular fondness for frogs. I used to catch them in Mother’s fishpond as a boy.”

Yennefer was struck with the image of Jaskier as a young boy, knee-deep in pond water with a frog clasped in his grip. It was wholly too easy to imagine.

“You’re not really going to harvest her for your potions, are you?” Jaskier continued, nervously. “Toe of frog, and the like?”

“No,” Yen said. “I’m not going to harvest her.”

“Oh.” He prodded at the frozen thing. “Good.”

“Toe of frog is a plant.”

He peered up at her. “Really?”

“Mhmm. Most of that sort of thing is. You can’t believe everything you hear in songs and stories, Jaskier. You of all people ought to know that.”

He grinned at her, then his eyes went wide, mouth opening in excited anticipation. “This does feel like the start of a song, doesn’t it?” He said.

“I don’t know,” she said, keen not to be led down the path of poetry. “Does it?”

“Oh, yes. About… the nature of survival, and the changing of the seasons. The strength to evolving to cope even in the most difficult of places, changing yourself to fit. Freezing over and going cold…” he looked up, eyes wide, expression wholly sincere. Something squeezed in Yen’s chest as he finished, with a sigh: “...and thawing, come spring and sunshine. Thawing and surviving, despite the frosts.”

Yen swallowed, stepping back. “Very nice.” Her tone was not quite as acidic as she had hoped it would be.

“The… The Thawing of the Frog,” Jaskier muttered, peering up, brows furrowed. “No, that’s not quite right…”

“You should put her down, you know,” Yen said, before he could get lost chasing the idea. “If she thaws in your hand, she will die with the next snow.”

“Of course!” Jaskier quickly bent down, and placed the frozen frog back amongst the frosty leaves. “There. Farewell, my little froglet.”

“Come,” Yennefer said, heading back towards the trail. “You can return in the spring and find her again, if she means so much to you.”

Jaskier barked out a sharp laugh. “If I’m still here come spring, I’ll be begging you to turn me into a frog myself,” he said.

“You don’t want to stay?” She said, carefully.

He gave her a long look. “No,” he said. “Not particularly. Do you?”

“I must,” she said. “For Ciri.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She strode ahead. “No,” she said. “I didn’t.”

After a moment, she heard him crashing through the undergrowth, chasing after her.

“Yennefer!”

“What?” She said, without stopping.

“Out of interest…”

“What?”

“Could you turn me into a frog?”

She stopped, and he ran into her, nearly sending them both flying. He caught her around the waist before she could topple into the stream.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Purely theoretically, of course!” He clarified. “Call it academic interest.”

She regarded him for a moment. “It’s hardly a simple question to answer, you know.”

He shrugged. “It’s a long walk back to the keep.”

“How much do you know about conservation of mass?” She said, relenting under his gaze.

“Literally nothing at all,” he grinned.

“Gods…” she shook her head. “Then we should start there. And Jaskier?”

“Yes?”

“You can let go of me now.”

His eyes went wide. He quickly let go of her waist, raising his hands immediately as if in surrender. His touch had been warm in the freezing air.

“So—” he swallowed, cheeks turning pink. “Conservatory of mass?”

Yen turned back to the path, shaking her head. It was going to be a long walk back.

[gobsnacc]

Names svetza has been called in order of love to hate

Frogwife: love, will always love, she will be the frogwife even if she isnt remotely frog like

Crocodile lady: love love because a small child called her this (small child said crocK-dile lady and it was cute)

Dragon woman: yes good makes her feel powerful!

Toad: no. She is not a toad! Do not insult toads or her in this fashion!

Frog: same as toad.

Lizard: I AM NOT A LIZARD!!!!!

[lapiccolacoccinella]

I think I'm actually gonna need to get an itabag. #tsuyuasui #froppy #frogwife #myheroacademia #bokunoheroacademia #professionalnerd #mangamaven #PLUSULTRA

[qsfrombooks]

But if youre carried off by a frogwife dont expect me to come dog-paddling to your rescue. You know you would. Javier shot Kiram an arrogant and self-satisfied smile. He caressed Kirams cheek.

Champion of the Scarlet Wolf Book Two (The Cadeleonian Series 4) / Ginn Hale