#there's no rhyme or reason to the order of these

[kata-the-bee]

Broken Adjustment

Lore under cut. And by lore, I mean a whole damn short story-

It had been barely a week since he had arrived. A once proud worm god now nothing more than another face in the flock. House arrest had done nothing helpful to his mental health, but it was a necessary evil. Others would recognize him. How could they not? The size surely would be a point of confusion and disbelief, but the antlers, the leaves, the wounds, they all matched. At least there was one who knew, and he was the only thing that made this new purgatory bearable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had only been a decade since the Old Faith fell, a decade that the youngest was trapped. His family remained between life and death, but Leshy was alive here and now, the first saved from the nightmare of death constantly relived. Thankfully, none of the flock knew of his presence as the Lamb was careful to bring the worm back under the cover of starlight. They quickly ushered the worm into a home and ordered him to stay for his safety. The Lamb would figure out a better plan soon, or at least they hoped. Hiding a fallen god in a randomly chosen house certainly wasn't a great plan to begin with, but at the time it was their best option.

Leshy had lashed out at everything with raw fury at the time. There was no rhyme, no rhythm, just pure emotion surging through biting and clawing at whatever furniture was closest. He was exposed, humiliated, and stripped completely of the last sense that had barely been sustained for a millenia by a crown he no longer had. Damn the Lamb! They were to blame for this! Things were perfect until fate reared its ugly head and scattered its cards!

There was one small grace, however, amidst the oppressive nothingness around. A yellow cat, one the Lamb had cautiously trusted to keep a secret. Sitri would recognize Leshy, that was a fact, but if anyone could keep it hushed it would be him. He had already survived Leshy's presence once. What's one more time? Someone had to watch the worm, and the Lamb did not trust him to be alone without supervision. Sitri was perfect for that task and was brought to be reunited with the emotional and blinded fallen bishop.

The yellow cat filled his new role as a caretaker quickly and without question. None for the Lamb, at least. Leshy was apprehensive to the idea of being watched over, but this cat? Familiar. A solemn comfort that he could grasp onto when the world was crushing, painful, and a void. The shift in power dynamic between the two was palpable, awkward, unsettling, but Sitri pushed past it for the sake of his duty. He would be there for Leshy, getting whatever the worm could ever want or need. Within reason, of course. First, however? Gathering comforting items. The transition to this form and location was surely jarring, but small things could make it smoother.

Sitri slipped away to gather one thing he knew would be the most important.

Camellias.

The signature red flowers of Darkwood would be a familiar comfort, surely. Sitri stole away to the fields to collect the youngest buds. Gathering what he could, he soon returned to the house to plant them in whatever space they could fit into. A stray pot picked up on the way would look nice on the windowsill while most of the others could be planted in the exposed soil between the newly broken floorboards. The Worm listened and could smell the change, but he was much too guarded to ever express gratitude in any capacity. That was alright for Sitri. He wasn't doing it for a thank you, after all, but it wasn't all duty either.

The next several days were dedicated purely towards making Leshy comfortable. The bed was pushed towards the innermost wall to be the most in the shadows. Sunlight was agonizing to Leshy's leaves, which were only accustomed to the shade of Darkwood. Perhaps that would change over time. Perhaps not. For now, however, curtains and strategic furniture placement were in order. Food was delivered only, same with water, all by yellow paws so as to not risk Leshy's presence getting exposed before a solid plan was made. Sitri even asked the Lamb to swap his secondary job of refining materials to learning medical. Someone would have to tend to that wound, after all.

That wound.

That gaping mess of torn flesh and empty sockets.

After all these years, it was still agonizing. Death did not spare him his due suffering, nor did purgatory, nor mortality. A constant reminder of thousand year old sins. It ached, it stung, it burned. Some days were better than others and bled less, but it never stopped. It was worse without distractions from the pain, and the lack of yellow cat presence that day was overwhelming. Sitri was taking lessons from one of the medical staff while Leshy panted from the overwhelming pain.

Bandages had been cast aside along with the robes. The pain was overwhelming every remaining sense, and Leshy could no longer stand the touch of the fabrics. All the physical pain, the crushing weight of emotions still raw, and the soul shattering loneliness he was forced to face had made this morning one of the worst he had experienced in a very long time. Blood and ichor poured freely down his face and stained his sheets while he gripped the fabric for any sense of control and grounding.

Leshy was alone, in pain, and desperately trying to stay away from the agonizing light from the window. As the day bled on like the festering wound on his face, so too did his senses bleed away to numbness. The pain had become less overwhelming over hours, but the solitude still remained. When Sitri was there, it was able to be ignored, but without the cat nearby Leshy could truly feel just how alone he was. Even as a god, even when life went to shit after Narinder was sealed, Leshy was never alone. There was Heket still, Kallamar, and Shamura. Now? Just... himself.

Leshy managed to a sitting position after hours of writhing and trembling on the bed and dangled his legs off the edge. He felt so small, so utterly exhausted as he barely managed this upright position. Even when Sitri came to check, he could barely manage to shift his branches. The ex god just sat there naked, his wound still pouring, his willpower depleted. Sitri himself struggled to find the right words to say as a comfort for Leshy. He couldn't possibly comprehend what the worm was going through right now, let alone find some meager saying to try and ease part of the agony. What was once a proud and chaotic force of nature was now nothing more than a hollow shell of what he once was. A husk was all the remained.

Sitri may not have had the words, but the least he could do was be there. And so he sat by Leshy, offering his presence as a reminder that, even now, Leshy still had someone to help fill the hole in his spirit.

He didn't fight it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for any grammatical errors present, I wrote this one one go. Hopefully it's at least semi coherent! Congrats if you made it this far. Have the posted art as an inks only version instead of ink and markers!

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

2014 BTS Skool Luv Affair Concept Photos

[thirdtimed]

some more lifers

[t-hirstreview]

[corposurreal]

robbie williams - live at knebworth (2003)

[kelpywheat]

CDV BABES!!!

His two modes are annoyed and being annoying. His favorite activity is bullying Goodsir. He’s an asshole, a piece of shit. He’s a freak. He drives a loud sports car. He’s kinda obsessed with Billy’s boyfriend. It’s a little weird. He makes terrible memes. He’s sarcastic as all hell. Rude 24/7. He’s kinda cute tho…. Who said that.

I was only just thinking that’s what this camp needed. More davechella from me.

[beedreamscape]

I'm sorry, but I would not be having that conversation with Ludinus. Molaesmyr is evidence enough this man doesn't give a fuck what kind of chaos he havocs.

He destroyed and corrupted a whole city! Habitants are to this day serving as half-flesh trees! Monsters beyond imagination and evil spirits roam the land! WHAT DO YOU THINK HE'LL DO TO EXANDRIA?

I'm not even talking Predathos, he's his own creature thing, I'm talking about the psychopathic grandpa that doesn't give a fuck about anyone or anything that's trying to pilot this plan. I don't trust a man who doesn't love anyone.

[larkmousedesigns]

Cloudrunner

[akkivee]

wow!!!!! posse sure is looking different these days!!!!!!

[alderaphid]

Did a liiiitle sprucing up of my blog and AO3 account. New pfps (that I drew myself!) and a bit of polish on IYBMS (new summary and refreshed tags). Change is good!

[mayasdeluca]

Can I ask why you use the carina x maya tag and not the other way around (maya x carina)?

It's honestly just the first thing I thought of when first starting to reblog/post things about them and it was very early on before the fandom was big so 'Marina' wasn't really that popular for the ship name yet so I just went with that instead and I was too far in to change it lol. So everything I've tagged for my tag for them personally is with that tag so I've just continued to use it!

[juuheizou]

yo we know that juuzou doesn't really talk about his feelings but do you think w a significant other like mutsuki he would perhaps be more open?🤔 do you imagine they having late night deep conversations and moments of emotional vulnerability? if so, how does that go? like with all development he's got, how does juuzou talk about his feelings/vent and is open to emotional comfort? how do these moments happen?tysmm in advanceee💘

I don't think it will ever be his first instinct-- he just reads to me as someone who tends to try and pick apart his problems and figure out what to do about them on his own, on the occasion that he realizes he has a problem, and more than being particularly reserved, he just doesn't think to share and involve other people unless there is something practical he knows he needs from them. But I can see that being a skill he gets better at, specifically with Mutsuki as his partner in practicing it more.

Mutsuki, as we know with other characters, can not just read people who do everything in their power not to be read, but has the kindness and the empathy-used-for-good to engage with them in a way that can literally calm the savage beast. Suzuya might be another hard read, though in a different way than Urie, but especially once they grow close, Mutsuki can tell when he's upset behind the nonchalant smile and when a simple 'do you want to talk about it?' can dramatically alter the course of how Suzuya was going to handle whatever is bothering him. And it's not like he actively avoids sharing with people he trusts, so a lot of the time all Suzuya needs to open up in that way is for someone to put the thought in his head.

When Suzuya does talk about his feelings, he is a fun mixture of open and direct while also experiencing legit alexithymia and just not having the same emotional reaction to some things that his peers do. He might struggle to label his feelings as happy, sad, angry, and sometimes all he knows is what he wants to do about them. So I can see Mutsuki gently insinuating the idea into his head that maybe they should talk about something, then Suzuya just drops a bomb like 'this other senior investigator I'm stuck sharing this case with has been barring all my ideas. Sometimes things were easier when other people were just something to stab hundred times and watch them die,” or “I put down this cat I had for three years, and Shinohara probably isn't gonna make it just like my cat, so maybe I would like curling up and dying too,” as casual as someone says they've been feeling a little down lately.

Mutsuki is just as kind and (even if he doesn't really understand, he will fake it until he does) understanding as ever and will follow whatever lead Suzuya gives him deeper and deeper. Sometimes Suzuya's way of articulating his feelings can be hard to hear, but he still musters up a calm 'that must be so sad to go through all at the same time. For what it's worth, I would really miss you if you curled up and died.' And they just keep going back and forth talking until Suzuya feels better or gets worked up enough to beat up one of his pillows or throw a stuffed animal or something cathartic he needed to do to start feeling better. His arms are open when Suzuya gets all his thoughts out and needs a hug.

Suzuya is a smart cookie in his own way and can usually figure out solutions to things he can in fact solve (and work himself up into meltdown-level frustration trying to solve things he can't) on his own or with just an opportunity to talk himself through his thoughts with someone who will listen, but if he is really stuck enough to seek out an answer, which is REALLY stuck because underneath his outer appearance of indifference he is REALLY stubborn about things that actually matter to him, sometimes what he needs is a more Mutsuki-like idea for what to do. He always has a solution, sometimes unsolicited and unwanted, when Mutsuki has something to cry on his shoulder about, and in turn Mutsukki does his best to offer suggestions.

The first time he comes to Mutsuki on his own just to talk, Mutsuki definitely noticed it more than Suzuya did and really took it to heart that talking to him is on Suzuya's list of ways he can fix his problems. And, at that point in their relationship, that he actually has things of value to help Suzuya with, rather than Suzuya always coming to his rescue for nothing in return. I can see them occasionally having deep talks late at night or at the dinner table. Not super often, but I can see it happening when a situation at work or in life demands it.

[attention-span-never-heard-of-i]

Why do I get the feeling that the authors just always hated reading, always felt inferior because of that, and used the making of this list as an excuse to make themselves feel better...

Here is a list of books that Project 2025 is looking to ban and the reasons for each.

These are the books they are afraid of. These are the books we need to be reading.

[autumnrory]

i can’t lie i would be devastating to me if taylor swerved and did debut tv first because she would be overshadowed by rep just like speak now was by 1989

[silentexplorer18]

Vapor Chicken for WIP Wednesday!

Thank you for the ask!!

There’s a knock at your door, and you really don’t like the sound of it.  It’s late.  Too late to be entertaining the idea of company at your metaphorical doorstep.  Your duvet is fluffy, and the pumping bass downstairs is something you can sleep through—have slept through before.  It’d be easy to just lay down and— Knuckles rap against your door again.  It’s a quick rat-a-tat-tat. You should probably see who it is.

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.