#omg it does things to me
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ssongsboo · 5 months ago
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why would he just steal my man like that 💔💔
idk who i wanna be in this situation tbh
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choccy-milky · 3 months ago
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congrats on baby #2!🥰👍 part 2 to this post bc seb is a smug ass bitch when it comes to getting clora pregnant. and ty @rednite-dork for sending me the original pic ages ago LMFAO... i knew as soon as i saw it that i had to redraw it eventually 👼
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theonewhowails · 11 months ago
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silly stuff i drew while reading Feel No Evil by @payasita , in which the Lamb does not know how to propose, Narinder does not know how to be alive, and neither of them knows what an obligate carnivore is
bonus? lmao
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cozylittleartblog · 1 year ago
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a little Postlet. . because i Miss them
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evelynpr · 2 months ago
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Progenitor AU suddenly getting more fanart thanks to Terrarium Kaveh. Truly, no one does it like him.
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lqvesoph · 11 months ago
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landonorris snow days ⛄️
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mikakuna · 8 months ago
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jason todd the man that you are!!!
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lemongogo · 24 days ago
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anyways . silly thing
#gravity falls#stanford pines#stanley pines#lg doodles#animatic#i want it done.get out of here u stupid dog#ITS CHEESY.IM SORRY ! IMSORRY <embarrassed .truly#but i think. a gf revival would not be complete w/o me trying my hand at a shitty animatic. this 1 is for me dwg#as annoying as the whole process was it was kind of fun ngl. . like ive never been good at keeping a consistent style or chara model#and this was rly good practice for that .. i think looking at it now its like. no its crazxy its insane bc i dont ever want to do it again#at least in the immediate future but watching it back im like ok well.icouldve at least done that better. or tried to loosen up my vp and#made it feel less flat . <thats the devil talking & trying to get u back in on it.thats what i mean liike its fun but its evil and tiring#also im so creatively burnt out ik i couldve done so many fun ciphord gore things but i ug a 'shrug' pff 'shrug' i ?. yk#if only i didnt have the disposition to want to finish everything in one sitting. i think thats why i like static illustration#more bc u get more like. topical variety in a shorter amt of time u feel. anyways i remember hearing this song 4 the first time and in#my need to apply everything ever to my hyperfix i was like omg crop circles soo stanford lol. omg a deal he made when he was young.. & no#it doesnt feel so great does it .. (ciphordd)..then the eyes & fate i was alr convinced but when it got 2 the stanley part ab the taking hi#fathers brothers name i was like ok well fuck filbrick 1 . but rewritten for canon events anyways HELLO???????? AND U WILL DIE THE SAMEE?#much cooler version is still stuck in my head but i hope that u can get the same rudimentary vision i have
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apocalyptic-byler · 10 months ago
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hmmmmmmm thinking many thoughts about this scene
also thinking many thoughts about this particular photo
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anyway mike wheeler watch your back 👍🏾
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goldenoaklibraryadventures · 4 months ago
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Oh sweet Celestia this cannot be happening.
Apologies for my writing btw it's not very good at the best of times let alone when I'm using my finger on a phone screen.
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toxintouch · 21 days ago
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yk how in veres likes on his character sheet it says he like cooking (badly)…… WHY HAS NO ONE DONE A FIC ABOUT THAT YET‼️⁉️⁉️ THAT SHOULD NOTTT BE A WASTED OPPORTUNITY. i’m not even joking im ab to send this to so many people because i can’t let this go to waste 😞
Here u are anon!  For the record, you are completely free to send this prompt around wherever you’d like!  It was such a fun idea, I’d love to see more takes on it. ^^
Warnings: Vere talking Innuendos? Innuendos.  So many, and I don’t guarantee that they are funny lol.  Just a general silly vibe and imo: absolutely  tooth rotting fluff.
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‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅SOUS CHEF ‧₊˚♡₊˚
You find yourself wandering through Lowtown during the lunch hour, trying to decide what sounds like a good meal.
Your mouth waters at the scents being carried on the breeze, a plethora of pleasant aromas wafting out of the eateries nestled inside the Amaryllis District, so fragrant that you can smell them all the way down on the bustling streets of Lowtown as long as you stay downwind.
However, if there’s one nice thing about knowing Leander it's that you also know you don’t have to go that far (or spend that much) for a delicious lunch. 
Near enough to the Wet Wick, there’s a series of side streets that make up an eclectic amalgamation of Lowtown and the Amaryllis District, and in it: a small and inconspicuous eatery.  The menu changes often, though you aren’t sure if that’s out of innovation or necessity, but the food is always filling and reasonably priced.
You follow the winding streets, getting lost for a brief moment before correcting your course, traveling until you see colorful chipped girih tiles and wide, clean windows.  You let yourself into the shop, the now familiar sound of hinges in need of an oiling welcoming you.  
There’s an assortment of goods on display–jars of honey and spiced fruit and loaves of braided bread with seeds–all kept safely locked away beneath an enchanted pane of glass.
Looking around, though, you don’t see anyone selling said fantastic wares.
You call out, expecting the shop keep or her wife to come running but instead you hear…silence.
Followed by a loud metallic clatter.
You freeze, unsure what to do, what the threat is–if there’s even a threat?–but before you can make up your mind, you’re greeted by a most unexpected sight.
Vere comes out of the kitchen area, his hair swept into an artfully stunning up-do that reveals the long line of his neck and clavicle, blemished only by the heavy collar locked around his throat. 
He’s wearing a weighty linen apron over his clothing, presumably to protect his outfit, though–his long gossamer sleeves are completely discordant with the notion, making you think that maybe the apron is more of an aesthetic choice.
“What’s this–?  A mouse?  In my kitchen?” Vere asks playfully as you continue to stare, dumbfounded.  He wields a spatula in his hand like a weapon–swatching it into his off-hand like a riding crop with a decisive snap.
“Where is–?”
“–The shop keep?  Wherever she pleases–the shop’s closed on Mondays.”
(You really don’t like the way he’s watching you…  Or the way he keeps inching closer…)
You take a step backwards, your eyes never leaving his.  “Oh,” you say, bandaged hands reaching blindly behind you.  “I didn’t realize.  The door was unlocked, so…”  You trail off.
You find the doorknob at last.  You attempt to turn it only to find that it won’t budge.
“Was it?”
Vere saunters up to you, tail swaying behind him.  You manage to tear your eyes away from his predator stare to search for possible exits, though you know for a fact you won’t be fast enough.   You look back and he’s already in your space, crowding you against the entryway.
(He smells really good, actually.  Like leather and spice and the subtle cling of perfume and incense.  And beneath that, something–earthy–animalistic, but in a way that’s intoxicating as opposed to unpleasant.)
“I was just about to make myself a snack–how nice that a snack came to me.”
“Stop playing around.” You try to steel yourself and inject the perfect amount of scolding into your voice while combating his heated stare.  “I know you’re just fucking with me to try and get a reaction; you and I both know you’re not going to eat me.” 
If he was, he would have done it by now.  Sometime within the weeks you’ve known him.  …Probably. 
Unless he just likes to play with his food.
“I didn’t realize you knew me so well,”  he says, looking amused.  “Perhaps I didn’t plan to, but now I simply can’t resist.  You look so absolutely delectable, how could I possibly contain myself?”
You don’t get the chance to reply.  Vere’s countenance changes suddenly–you watch his ears flatten a second before you hear the screaming whistle of a teapot.  His ears twitch in annoyance at the sound, his perfectly sculpted face showing a sour sneer.  He gives you a sideways glance, calculating.
“Then again.  I find myself in need of a sous chef.  Congratulations on your promotion.  Come along now.”  He hooks a finger into your cloak and pulls you easily into the kitchen.  (To be fair, you don’t struggle.  Anyone would want to see where this is going, right?)
He releases you once you’ve crossed over the threshold, waving his fingers uncaringly towards a second apron affixed to a hook on the wall as he beelines to remove a glass teapot from the stove and stifle the noise.  He moves quickly as you watch, casually throwing aside the spatula in his hand in favor of an ornate silver teaspoon.  He measures a vibrantly colored tea into the inlaid steeping container of the equally ornate teapot and takes a pleased inhale as the tea’s fragrance blooms, humming as he flips over a delicate hourglass to keep track of the steeping time.
There’s silence for a moment–
Him watching the teapot and you watching him.
“Well?”  He asks, without looking up.  You’ve seen this look before, you think – this pensive, almost lonesome look that makes your heart ache against all better judgment.  “Staying or going?”
He grins when you put on the apron.  You search his face for some sincerity, but he’s all sharp teeth and tall ears, covering any glimpses of deeper emotion with a sheen of smugness.  He circles you once you have the apron on, taking in the image.
“Mm, don’t you just look adorable.  Very domesticated.”
You’re pretty sure that the word he’s looking for is domestic. But of course, he knows what he said and he meant to say it.  You decide that he’s probably betting on your correction, already armed with a witty retort.  You smooth the apron down while pointedly looking away, deciding that you won’t give him the satisfaction.  You hear him chuckle.
Since you’re avoiding looking at Vere, you look around the kitchen for the first time.
It’s a spacious workspace–moreso than the storefront, even.  There’s a large iron stove unlike anything you’ve ever seen, covered with magical runes and dials, with a large hearth built into the belly of it.  A plethora of pots and pans have been placed on the burners, left to sizzle and pop in the red hot heat.  
Oil is singing from the heated, shallow basins but you don’t see anything cooking inside.  
There’s a slab of meat diced into neat squares and a heaping bowl of lumpy batter set to the side of the stove top.
“What are you making?”  You ask, trying to make sense of the scene.
“Panko crusted fish filet.  And there’s a pasta in the oven.  For dessert, I was thinking–” he gives you a sly look, one that makes your ears feel warm, “hmm, well.  I just had a much better idea in regards to dessert.”  He makes a show of licking his fangs, the movements of his tongue slow and sensual.
You think you tied your apron too tight; your airway is feeling a little constricted.  It seems to be getting worse the longer you watch.
You clear your throat, tearing your eyes away.  More ingredients, most partially prepared, and a host of dirtied pots and pans greet you.  You turn your back to him as you explore, fully engrossed in all of the views that the mess of a kitchen has to offer.  You’re almost afraid to ask: “So, what am I here to help with?”
“Oh?”  You don’t hear Vere come up next to you, but you feel him brushing up against you.  “Does my darling sous chef require…instruction?  A guiding hand, so to speak?”  You freeze, feeling his breath against your ear, shivers running down your spine at his light and teasing chuckle.
But then he’s breezing past you, making a wide dramatic gesture toward the large tome perched surreptitiously on the counter.  “Lucky for you, I’ve a recipe.”  His tail wags swishes elegantly behind him as he beams with pride.
His tail knocks the whisk out of the mystery batter beside the fish filet but he takes no notice.
Vere hops gracefully up onto the counter, reaching for the batter.  He does an impressive twist in order to grab hold of another whisk and you take the time to appreciate that.  Then, with Vere occupied and seemingly ignoring you, you take a look at the recipe book.  
The text is old and withered with the occasional dash of sprawling spidery script painting the margins.  (Said writing is utterly illegible–you’re actually not sure if it’s in a language you can read, though if you squint you think you can see something that looks like the word ‘cake’.)  The page it’s opened to is ripped in half, rendering precious steps of the recipe lost to time.  You spot a mysterious bite mark piercing through the corner of the leather cover.
And can’t stop yourself from surreptitiously glancing over at Vere.  He’s moved on from the batter (which looks as lumpy as it did a minute ago) and is now eating skewers of raw fish with his nails.
“You’re not supposed to eat while you cook,” you say, the time worn words out of your mouth before you can examine your personal stance on them.
“Says who?  Some limp dick?  No shame in indulging, pet.”
“You’re not even gonna have anything left to cook,” you warn.
“Hum, sounds like my sous chef should get to work covering them in batter instead of just standing there before I eat them all.”
You roll your eyes, but follow through with instructions.  The space is unfamiliar and your movements are slow and unsure with Vere looming over you from his perch on high, watching.
One of the pans of oil gives an ominous pop.  “Hmm, sounds like it’s hot enough,” says Vere.  “Move over.”
“Is that safe?”
“For me,” Vere says simply.  “And it’s faster.  Now stand further back or you'll get splattered–and not in the fun way.”  Idly, he tosses a batter covered filet into the shallow pan.  The resulting hiss makes you both cringe.
As if on queue, the hourglass for the tea gives a gentle chime, lighting up with a golden glow.  (You’re beginning to wonder how this humble shop can afford all these magical items, but then again this is the city of secrets.  You’re probably better off not knowing.)  Vere’s ears perk up, pleased.  He tosses the remaining fillets in the pan without a fuss, setting lids on top of each to contain the oil, acting as if doing so is going to stop any potential disaster.
Main course forgotten, he moves on to digging something out from inside one of the many cupboards.  “Be a dear and cut this for me, will you?”  He hands you a delicate peach before heading to the tea pot, stirring the contents and adding what must be a priceless amount of honey.
The peach in your hand is overripe but still vibrant–amazing, as you haven’t seen fresh fruit at all since you came to Eridia.  Your mouth waters anew as you remember what led you here in the first place–your quest for a meal–and you’re almost tempted to take a bite, follow Vere’s advice and sink your teeth in.
“My, my.  I’m almost jealous.  I thought you only looked at me like that.”
Vere shushes the denial from your lips, bossing you around regarding how he wants the peach sliced before shooing you out of his way and finishing his remaining tea preparations,with the look of an artist at work.  The tea is a warm oolong color, made only more alluring once the infusion of peach is complete.
It’s refreshing, too, once Vere serves it to you over ice.
You can almost ignore the great plumes of smoke coming from the oven.
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Vere cooks how others might enjoy a leisurely stroll. 
Which is to say, he seems to be having fun, but you’re not convinced he intends on really going anywhere.  Still, there’s a rhythm to it–a dance, though he leads you in expected loops and turns, changes the tune at a moment's notice.  He’ll get bored of the task at hand and find some new spice to peruse, demand you taste test an ingredient or give your opinion on a dizzying new flavor he’s concocted.
(He manages to convince you to sample a bit of cucumber soup from the cold box.  You retch, proclaiming it salty, downing another glass of delicious peach oolong–
“I can still taste it in the back of my throat…!”–and he cackles wildly.)
Thick locks of hair are falling out of his up-do by the time he’s satisfied, framing his face and bringing your attention, again to the inviting line of his clavicle.  He tosses his loose hair over his shoulder, preening.
The recipe book is basically ruined, and the pasta is null and void, but some of the fillets look mildly edible.  The artful garnish is beautiful, at least.  The kale and orange slices really bring out the crispy burnt bits.  Vere seems to enjoy plating the food a great deal, humming and rearranging and circling the display until he deems it arranged to perfection.
He’s elegant when he takes a bite, biting down with a crunch.  His tail goes very still for a moment, then shivers microscopically as he chews.  He swallows in a manner that you can only describe as dignified, dabbing his lips with a napkin.  You wait in anticipation, but Vere says nothing for a long time.  Then, he quietly takes the old recipe book and throws it away.
Thankfully, he doesn’t insist on you trying it too.
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You end up snacking on some of the pre-made goods, drinking the remaining tea and lounging at one of the shop’s cozy little tables.  The mood is light and easy, and the view is magnificent.  Outside, there’s nothing but trash littered streets and urchins, but inside…the afternoon glow coming from the window illuminates Vere like a sunset, painting him in dazzling shades of gold and red and bronze.
Vere hums, peering at you pointedly through his sooty lashes.  “So, dessert?”
You can’t imagine the look that comes across your face–whatever it is, it makes Vere laugh.
“What are you giving me that look for?  My intentions are pure.” His voice is a masterclass in syrupy false-innocence.  “As clean as Leander’s bed sheets after–”
“Please don’t finish that sentence and give me any mental images,” you beg.  “I have to sleep there tonight, I’d rather not know.”
“Ignorance is bliss.”  Vere agrees, closing his eyes and appearing to bask in the sun for a moment.  His face does something that you don’t quite catch–some hidden expression–but then, he’s smiling easily.  He must really be relaxed if he can still smile seconds after thinking about Leander.  You’re still admiring him when the shadows against the walls flicker, and suddenly he isn’t sitting next to you any more.
Instead, he’s returning from the kitchen, a tray in hand.
He sets it down in front of you, revealing an assortment of strawberries and an ornate silver porringer of what appears to be melted chocolate.  Vere sets it down on the table, plucking the small dessert spoon from the chocolate once he’s seated across from you again.
“Occasionally, life does offer up something sweet to savor–only for those willing to go out and take it.”  His tongue darts out to lick the chocolate off the spoon in his hand.  He maintains eye contact as his tongue laves across the basin and–embarrassingly–you think you get a little lightheaded from the intensity with which your blood rushes to your face.  The crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you that he know exactly where your mind has gone.
Setting the spoon down, Vere instead picks up a bare strawberry, leaning in closer to press it gently to your mouth.
The chocolate is overly bitter–a little burnt, perhaps, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you’re tasting the remnants of it on Vere’s lips.
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(Before leaving, you plop a few coins down on the counter as payment.  You brought enough to cover your food…but definitely not enough to cover the mess in the kitchen.  There’s really nothing you can do about that.  
You hope you don’t get blacklisted.  You’d like to come back next Monday.)
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Hope you enjoyed if you made it this far! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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sdrose93 · 3 months ago
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Captain Pete Maverick Mitchell 😍😍❤‍🔥
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tommygotwrittenoff · 4 months ago
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i just think if roles were reversed and buck was the one saying those gay ass lines to eddie, eddie wouldve proposed like four seasons ago
#like if buck had a kid and he said to eddie “theres no one in this world i trust with my kid more than you” eddie wouldve given him head#if buck had written him into his will and said “because eddie (cuz im sorry but buck loves eddies name too much to not use it)#you act like youre expendable but youre wrong“ eddie wouldve been like on his knees begging for buck to move in already#or if eddie did something reckless and after told buck he had to do it and buck just looked at him fondly and said “i know you did”#eddie wouldve dragged his ass to the nearest jewelry store to get them matching rings#or if someone off handedly mentioned how long he was dead/underground/uhhh bleeding out from his gunshot wound#and buck corrected them and said “um no actually it was 3 minutes and 17 before we got to the hospital” eddie wouldve done unspeakable#things to him in the bathroom of that underground poker club#or if eddie came out to buck and buck gave him a similar supportive little talk and said “this doesnt change a thing between us”#eddie wouldve been like “uh no actually it does get in the fucking car rn” and driven them to the courthouse so they could get married#basically#eddie says the gayest shit to buck all the time but buck just hears it as Normal Bro Things because hes never had a normal friend before so#he had nothing to really compare it to#but if buck were to say this kinda gay shit to eddie#eddie would immediately be like oh youre in love with me because eddie is a romantic and knows declarations of love when he hears them#however#buck communicates his feelings with flirting but eddie is fucking stupid and has no game and no rizz and doesnt realize hes flirting#eddie communicates his feelings with grand declarations of love but buck is fucking stupid and doesnt realize people actually care about hi#they need to flip communication styles and then theyll realize#buddie#evan buckley#eddie diaz#get him out of there#let eddie free so he can finally have game#omg no or if eddie had done something that kinda pissed buck off and buck just looked at him after eddie apologized and said “ofc i forgive#you“ well there wouldve been something freaky going on in the firehouse closets that halloween
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thyredwarden · 2 months ago
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i was checking varric's combat lines for writing related reasons. was about to make a joke on the new best friend line but looking at the ko'd character lines... hawke is getting special treatment for sure.
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puppyeared · 2 years ago
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Themb
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phoenixcatch7 · 4 months ago
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Reading loz/lu fics and it's just so interesting how wide the spectrum is of their personalities.
Sometimes it's got an in universe reason (different past (usually gender or species change), recent or ongoing traumatic events, a spectacularly bad first meeting), but sometimes (often) the characters are just... Weirdly angsty or peppy, there's no in between!
And I'm beginning to think less people have played more than one game than I thought XD.
Not that it's anyone's fault! One game is more than enough to be part of it all, and loz is exclusive to Nintendo consoles - and all the older stuff is frustratingly hard to get hold of. Heck, I'm still looking for wind waker, and that was really popular! And then you have to play it! They're not small games!!
But could people writing wild please ease off just a tiiiiiny bit so he can be a semi functional member of society pretty please XD? He's just as much a polite boy as any other member of the chain! He won't even run in shops! He can't attack npcs! He talks to every single person he's ever seen and remembers every single name. Yes, he's three quarters woodland creature with a hefty amount of trauma but he's also a fashionista who managed to avoid accidentally taking sides in a mayoral election and that's not easy!
#I have some actual gripes but that's just me being pedantic about something I know a lot about#loz#legend of zelda#tears of the kingdom#loz link#loz botw#loz totk#the legend of zelda#totk link#lu wild#Okay but please stop making his teleportation a point of interest to the chain they ALL can warp it's not even slightly special#And the slate/pad doesn't hold any items I'm begging you that's just fanon it's never been canon or been implied to be#Travelling across hyrule (on horseback) is about a week and a half following the paths at a walk. Rito to lurelin. It's not weeks on foot t#Hyrule Castle!!#This isn't a problem but like. Let link be petty brats to civilians occasionally. It's enrichment. They all have beef with some rando.#They're all extremely polite and let people get away with more than they maybe should but like. Adults starting smth with a 16yo.#Also wild has serious beef with ganon why does everyone write him so chill. Like botw sure but totk?? Absolutely not.#'wah my home is in ruins it's all my fault' it's been like that for yonks no one's even mad and hello?? Miles on miles on untouched#Landscapes?? Millenia of ruins indistinguishable from the recent stuff?? Link literally died he could not have done any more#How anyone can play botw/totk and not be BLISTERINGLY proud of hyrule I don't know#Okay but why does everyone (particularly legend omg) always bitterly blame hylia like loz has a dozen odd deities and hylia is the ONE who#Got cursed right alongside link. It's just... Idk but it seems like such a culturally Christian thing. All the focus on one who then gets#Blamed for everything in life going wrong. Not even Christian but specifically American Catholic. I don't know.#Hylia is the one deity we can pretty safely assume is neither omnipotent or omniscient lmao#In every time she has a voice (botk/ss) she pretty clearly mucks up or gets tricked and has regrets#In ss when she was zelda she hated every second of leading link around and even then it all hinged on link being completely willing!!#And then she got kidnapped anyway!#In totk (spoilers) she loses contact with one of her statues and asks link to check it out. Another statue gets POSESSED by ol triangle hea#And again link has to figure out the problem. Like even in her divine form she is so far from all knowing and all doing.#It's a lot of conflating with the concept of fate maybe?
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