#omfggggggggggg

[sanguineposhrat]

Holy SHIT you have to read this book jesus fucking christ omggggg

YOU WILL NEVER EVER GUESS THE PLOT TWIST IN A MILLION BILLION YEARS AAAAAAAAAAA

[jmkho]

U THINK IM OK AFTER THIS?! HA!

[mydarlingdahlia]

This might be me being kinky, horny, unhinged, deranged, or all of the above…

But like why do I lowkey want to write something along the lines of KNY or Genshin men fucking you on Christmas Eve as an early quote on quote “present”

And it all started with one simple, innocent, chaste kiss under the mistletoe

But oh, that warm, enticing feeling from the fireplace, the faint smell of pine and gingerbread in the air, the snow (depends upon which climate you’re in as a Floridian I have seen snow once in my lifetime) outside chilling the air, the frost slowly covering the windows in tiny snowflake patterns, the moon shining in a soft, dim light, the Northern star shining bright for all eyes to see…

Just imagine it…

The two of you are sitting outside on your porch, sipping hot cocoa under a shared blanket and watching the stars twinkle in the midnight sky.

You suddenly lean over and plant a chaste, soft kiss in their lips.

“What was that for?” they ask you.

You glance up, and they, following your gaze, land on a mistletoe branch hanging another two of you. Romantic, isn’t it? Innocent. Sure.

But they could faintly taste the hot chocolate on their lips from your kiss, and was that…peppermint? You tasted sweet, and you had them yearning for more.

After a few minutes, they lead you inside, claiming they want to give you one of your “presents” early. But don’t you worry, my dear. They’ll keep you nice and warm all night long.

Can you tell that I’m impatient for Christmas to finally come

Y’all either remind me of this on the first day of December so I can write for either the KNY or Genshin part or I might just write it before then because I’m impatient asf 🧍‍♀️

-C

[planetsandthefates]

JUDGING FROM THE POSTS ON MY DASH TAYLOR IS APPARENTLY PERFORMING WOULD’VE COULD’VE SHOULD’VE AS A SURPRISE SONG AT HER ERAS TOUR SHOW?????????????? AM I DREAMING?????????????????????

AND SHE BROUGHT OUT AARON DESSNER AGAIN?!?!!?!? OH MY GOD THE ERAS TOUR NASHVILLE AUDIENCE IS SO FUCKING LUCKY

[thestormlightnetwork]

they're the same charcter in different fonts

Lol I forgot I never posted this here

Seatbelts, everyone ✨

[readmyhockeymind]

This is *the* performance of the tour

[fools-and-perverts2]

me when That Bit in time will change you

[wickedslip]

To mirror the absolute masterpiece that @ripkol has written, I couldn’t help but to write a mirroring piece that could only further reciprocate it. This is a drabble about the very first time Kol Mikaelson + Nausicaä Thorn met at Harvard, featuring dark academia vibes and heavy telepathic influences.

Draping her bag over her right shoulder, and when paired with the largest to-go cup of steaming hot Chiapas coffee, sweet and dark, she then and only then could be prepared for her set of autumn classes. The leaves that had fallen from the sugar maples and ginkgo trees of bright reds and golds blazed colors that this side of the hemisphere only saw within one season per year. If autumn was a year-round enterprise, she wouldn’t have been disgruntled over it. Living in Massachusetts, in the haunted harbor city of New Salem, it was more than just the scenery. More than her house, which ghosts had long stalked its lengthy corridors. She was able to step out of the shadows, long ostracized for being what she was. This was the city of las brujas, where they could easily be out on the streets to familiarize themselves and blend in with the rest of the civilians. And with All Saints drawing near, it was deemed to be even more so.

There was a faceted connotation to the air, steeped in the rich history of New Salem and its surrounding cities and suburbs. There was something coming, something on the rise, and she could feel it as it served to form robust horripilation along her sensitive flesh. Dressed to the nines in a button down tucked into a plaid skirt and chocolate vegan leather ankle boots, she chose to adorn her legs with floral tights to accentuate her oliveness. She was glad she didn’t dress too warmly, as it felt almost humid for this time of year. Her cheeks flushed from the elements, but possibly something else which could only prove that there was a difference here. Driving to Cambridge, she took route one, and the curving highway with forest on one side and the cliff overlooking the cresting, white-laced waves of the Atlantic on the opposite side.  

She loved this city. This school. She chose this school, and its rich, ancient history was only what could culminate in the rising dawn of witches and humanity alike. She could have gone anywhere in the world, but she chose to stay close to home. She could be introverted by nature, but not when it came to her craft. Not when it came to the overwhelming sensation of sinking in every bit of knowledge, she could get her clutches around. The thirst for knowledge was adept to an insatiable power, a power that she homed into, that she undoubtedly wanted.

She could feel the attractive smile as he entered the room, passing by the ceiling to floor marquetery of slender windows engraved into the walls and crown moldings that led to the long corridor of Harvard’s most prestigious halls. Slowly crossing one shapely, slender leg over the other, she sat regal and poised, her raven-hued French braid became loose, wisps of hair to frame her visage. She could feel tremors of conversation, the brush of so many minds in such a constricted space, but there was one mind that stood out to her. As though there was a halo of unfiltered, vivid light around it, showing the depth of his mystifying aura. She also had picked up how he thought of himself, and while she always found her own body, charm and charisma to be top notch, she had nothing on the overinflated ego that she was dealing with. She could only smile into the surge of thought that it invoked, going past her normal vision into that of her Third Eye, using another form of her aptitude for magic to home in on this one mind that seemed to want to be grasped.

She had felt him long before she saw him, and when she finally was able to connect the form to the mind, she was taken aback, all thought spiraling out of herself until she reinforced it, grasping with imperceptible hands at the pull to him. She was fascinated, seized and knifed to the hilt with fate of that which she didn’t fully understand nor comprehend. Feeling a cool brush of air akin to someone walking over her undisclosed grave, her eyes locked onto him, knowing that it was the connection that was forming. Not a red string, no. Nothing that feeble. It was a silver cord and once constructed it couldn’t be broken. She hadn’t ever felt anything like it, not had she anything to remotely compare it to. She had delved into strong minds before, even minds of supernatural entities with far more experience and prestige. But this, she had to admit, was a first. Her eyes trained to his every movement, watching as he delved into the messenger bag for a pen. She squeezed her legs more firmly together, feeling the sensation all the way to her poised hips.

She didn’t know him, but that didn’t stop the slow captivation to lend sway to the morbid fascination she had over him. His eyes bore holes into hers, and she locked onto them, instantly forgetting how to breathe. Perhaps she didn’t know this physical form, but she somehow knew him. Knew his soul, his spirit, his energy. It wasn’t so different than that of her own. She might as well have been in her room, bodies locked together, hovering over him. That was the kind of temptation that had manifested to take root.

Kol.

She whispered, yet no sound had escaped her plush lips, coated with a shade akin to crimson. She was luring him to her, without so much as meaning to. But the intent was there, all the same. Her eyes closed to half mast, heavy-lidded and full of a desire that she didn’t realize she had been showing. She wanted him to see her as she was seeing him, the connection blossomed a weaving so palpable that she almost wondered if lookers-on had picked up on it.

Reality had indeed set in that she had fallen under the influence of him, and he was bound to her now, body and soul. Two witches possessed, and nobody was safe until they set one another free. Shaking out of her reverie, the last bell chimed, indicating that class had started. Opening the textbook, she tried her best to focus on the words, but they appeared in elusive jumbles of cacophony. Every particle of her atoms craved his, with an intensity that shook her to her core. Breathing heavily, it was taking all she could to not bolt out of the room, to run some water over her visage.

Eyes focused straight ahead; she did her best to not home in on the man that would peer at her. Other eyes did, of course, do the same, but it wasn’t in any way the same kind of influence. She didn’t care about anyone else watching her. She was aware of the only person in the room that she wanted; with eyes locking onto her body, she couldn’t help but become frustrated with the thick unbridled emotion that was claiming her.   When the bell rang for departure, it was all she could do but to bolt out in a wave of students and staff alike.

[ixiraider]

I NEED A MARAQUAN PAINT BRUSH RIGHT NOW

[marble-pop]

I'm back! =D (well I've been back since 2 lol)

[yioh]

U KNOW WHEN UVE WATCHED SOMETBINF LIFE CHANGINF AND THEN U HAVE TO GO ANT UR DAY LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED

[jmkho]

NAH! JOSHMONICA IS ACTUALLY GONNA HIT ME SOON AND I AINT FUCKING READY FOR IT! I WILL ACTUALLY FUCKING IMPLODE!

[raeathnos]

.

[polyamoryprincess]

I JUST TRIED TO LOG INTO MY MOM’S AMAZON ACCOUNT. IT JUST SENT HER A TEXT TO GET A CODE. IT’S 4:30AM. FUCK.

[tealeavesandthorns]

The mention of last night just made her feel even more foolish. She'd been so happy, she'd been so sure that leading him up those stairs had been the right thing to do and now, now she just felt hollow.

It might seem to anyone else that a woman in her early 50's should be more at home with the idea of one night stands, ships passing in the night but Maria just wasn't and had never been like that. She only slept with someone when she thought there was a real connection, when she had strong feelings for them, because she didn't want sex, she wanted love and passion and feeling. She wanted to be loved.

As the years went by it seemed that was getting further and further away from her, especially with the scars and the weight of things gone by.

She didn't want to think about the words he'd whispered, about the feeling of him, about that feeling of home. She didn't want to go to work where the comfort of the archives would feel cloying because at somepoint he might visit, though, now he'd had his way would he even bother anymore?

Maria pulled herself from her thoughts and turned to look at him, in the hallway. God the romantic in her wanted to tell him to stay, to not beg, but just gently, quietly, ask him to please not leave her.

"Of course, yes." She finally managed to say. "I- ah- I think I'm going to head in anyway." She said sliding her feet into her kitten heels and pulling her own coat on before grabbing her handbag. She worried, that if she stayed in the house after he'd gone she'd breakdown and then leaving would be impossible, getting to work would be impossible. Best to leave now and force herself to remain composed, or composed enough at least to reach the sanctity of the archives, of her corner quiet, almost gifted to her by Olivia all those years ago.

The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife, that's how thick it was. Gareth could literally feel he had said something wrong again, and he had no idea what it had been. But he knew he needed to get out before he made everything even worse - if that was even possible.

"Mm. Yes. You told me about those." He remembered. And he remembered how wonderful last night had been; the dinner, their long conversation. Her laughter. The way her eyes had lit up. The way their lips had crashed into each other. The way her fingertips had felt on his skin...

He swallowed and nodded his head, gesturing past Maria. "I...should probably go." Again. Another smile was offered, and this time he did walk past her, into the hallway to get his shoes and put them on. The jacket followed. He was all but running, fleeing from the crime scene.