The one where I confess that I am unapologetically soft

how my heartbeat mimics the wind, invisible but far-reaching. With gossamer fingers I braid my hair, brew the tea, knead the bread. On obsidian nights, I gather dried lavender and listen for the willow. I have cradled newborn heads on the crest of my collarbone patched wounds with rose petal kisses, unwound the deepest of aches with worn-out denim and bare skin. I have carried the dead, cried my weight in tears. I am soft, and my hands are small but I would hold the sun for you, blister ‘til you no longer wish to be a burn. I am soft, and my voice is softer. It was made to breathe poems into the scruff of your neck to lay the ghosts of your worst fears to rest eternal. I am soft, and we are only a moment but my love will linger long after the willow stops weeping.

- Cora Finch

Recs on best outlander blogs/creators???

Just finally got enough into it to join the fandom. 🥰🥰🥰

hi!!! welcome!! 💖 some blogs/content creators i love (and this is by no means an exhaustive list and i know i am forgetting people) are

@frasersjamieclaire @sharpesjoy @moghraidhs @avasetocallmyown @heatherfield @themusicsweetly @fraserstanclub @jemscorner @userkayjay @jackietaylcr @whiteraven-s @lifelongblur

(and @outlandernetwork as well, which is a source blog im a member of)

I still can't believe I'm writing a Bagginshield fic. I don't think I'll be posting full chapters until it's complete... but here's a preview... A King's Bond

The day had started normally enough for the King Under the Mountain. King Thorin had no cause to think that his life would take a dramatic turn–none at all. The usual stressors of being a monarch may have affected his sleep, but that came with the job. The bags under his eyes were basically a permanent feature since his coronation, and that had been sixty years ago. Thorin’s temples pulsed with an impending headache, but that was normal too. All dwarves who had not found their Ones were prone to them occasionally, their minds ever seeking out a connection they longed for–like a beacon trying to call them home. All dwarves had Ones and they felt their longing keenly, especially if they had been found and then lost. Most didn’t survive long after their One’s passing into Mahal’s Halls. But that was thankfully not Thorin’s case. In fact, he wondered if he would ever have a One. It was not unheard of for dwarves to stay unattached, it was about a fifty-fifty chance. But those who didn’t have One’s had Callings and would find their peace of mind in mastering their chosen craft.

Thorin tried to alleviate his longing by finding a craft, but after taking several apprenticeships, it was obvious he had no true Calling. Still, he mastered what he could to keep himself from brooding too badly. Sometimes, it was merely distance that separated Ones, and many festivals were held across the lands for those still seeking. Other times it was merely time that kept their unions at bay, as their One may not have been born yet. Thorin’s advisors had thought the latter was the reason Thorin was still unbonded. But Thorin had his doubts. He was fifty years shy of two hundred, after all. No one had heard of having to wait more than a handful of decades for their other half to come into the world. And it was impossible for dwarrows to not sense it when their One took their first breath because it was said to be such an overwhelming feeling that it would send them into a dead faint. 

One hundred and fifty years of walking alone in the world had left Thorin especially ill prepared for this day. Because on this seemingly ordinary day, while the council members bickered over trade deals and harvest festivals, King Thorin felt like Mahal Himself had swung his mighty hammer and cracked it right between his dazed blue eyes. The vibrations from The Strike shook his very being from his skull to his heart and then out through every nerve in his body. His eyes rolled back, his lungs expelled every breath of air, and the King Under the Mountain swooned so violently that his chair tipped backward with a loud crash, leaving everyone in the room silently gaping at the head of the table where only a pair of royal boots could be seen.

Fun fact: when i opened Spotify Wrapped, it started in the middle of a vocal in the middle of an Anri song, & i thought it screamed at me. I almost dropped my phone.

Also, top 0.005% of Passion Pit listeners babeeeee

I wonder if im unironically their biggest fan lol

Borrowing from Happy Feet but I feel this:

is Eddie Munson's Heartsong

Heartbeats.. Feel the rhythm of your heartbeats with our English-language Pinterest network.

Heartbeats..

Feel the rhythm of your heartbeats with our English-language Pinterest network.

midnight kiss

cherry lips paper-thin regret

unfleshed beneath a cashmere moon

- Cora Finch

“I’ll watch the flowers grow for a while

You keep running your mile”

“But it's not real

And you don't exist

And I can't recall the last time I was kissed”

Current favs🎧

These songs could bring me back to life🏩🫀

Fireflies rose around us, pulsing slowly. At first there were only two or three, but then more began to hang heavy in the air. They were yellow-green, and I wondered how this could be real. Here. Now. This moment. How I ever could have forgotten this.

Heartsong by TJ Klune

i’m rereading wolfsong and i just-