#that type of day apparently

[bottled-cherry-wine]

I used to miss my mother everyday. I often thought about messaging or calling her, no matter if we would talk about the past or not. I would've let her off the hook again just to have a mom in my life. Some nights I would miss her so much I cried until I threw up.

Once the grieving period was over, the feeling that replaced it wasn't calm or content. All I have left of her is rage. So much anger I don't know where to put it. Part of me still wants to call her, but not out of sadness or hope. I want to yell at her until my throat hurts and I'm gasping for air. I want her to feel at least a fraction of the pain she put me through.

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

i feel like it is weird catholic girl tradition to go through a nun phase

[whorkn33]

he's soooooo

[legionofpotatoes]

please send good vibes for my Chichi who’s currently on IV fluids at the overnight clinic with possible (hopefully reversible) kidney disease :(

[front-facing-pokemon]

[toxintouch]

apéritif - an alcoholic beverage usually served before a meal to stimulate the appetite, it is usually dry or acidic rather than sweet. The word comes from the Latin aperire, "to open". ✦Vere x Oracle MC. ("They" Pronouns, no other identifiers used.) A little spice, but nothing above a T Rating. Other warnings? Joyful overuse of dashes & en-dashes. ✧𓁺 What, pray tell, can an Oracle offer a god? <- Previous: Deicide (both can be read completely separate) ✦Read on AO3

VERE: Apéritif

The alleyways are eerily silent. Absent is the telltale shuffling of human gangs awaiting unknowing stragglers, the skittering of Soulless and the fluttering whispers of many still worse horrors. All silent — silenced.  Quieted by the apex predator.  Such lower beings are easily subdued, hunger and greed and blood lust waylaid by want of self preservation.  Only the sound of their own breathing singing off the stone walls greets them as they tear down Eridia’s winding streets.

Their feet ache with every bound and twist, tendons protesting each abrupt turn, each sudden swerve.  Their survival hinges on their ability to remain unpredictable: their ability to foresee and adapt.  Their foe is faster, stronger.  He knows every inch of the city.  Their only chance is to anticipate him, steal seconds from the future and hope that mere seconds are enough.

Their mind swims, vision a blur of colors and noise – not just from lack of oxygen but from the strain of forcing their powers to the limit.  Tracing the hum of danger: barely visible, shadow-fast, oppressive—

The world spins and slows.  They hold tight to their adrenaline, fighting to stay just one step–only half a step, now–ahead.  They struggle harder; fight to pinpoint the immediate threat instead of finding themself lost in the tide of beating hearts and ticking clocks,  a single drop of water hitting the surface of a vast expanse of red...  Fluttering feathers and a sound too acerbic and pervasive to be music, a single solitary note: screeching, sorrowful and

Hot breath at the nape of their neck;

 a salivating, gaping maw.

They gasp, breath fleeing their hollow chest.  It echoes back to them, bouncing unnaturally off the wide streets of the Amaryllis District like a taunt.  They’re too open, they realize – exposed.  A scurrying prey animal, small thing that he gazes upon from—

They turn down the length of an alleyway lined in red lanterns and they feel him looming closer, stalking the spaces in between flickers of lamplight.

His eyes, glowing–from the right–an imprint of a future they can find behind their eyelids.

So they turn left, shadows passing over them as they fit into the narrow space between two buildings.  It’s a risk, but it’s all they have left.

The cramped space is more an alcove than a passageway, but they can feel—if not see—an exit.  

They force their breath down their throat, inching quietly, feeling along the walls with bandaged hands, grounding themself to this place and time, asking the city to open its hidden doors for them.

Five more steps and they find themselves deposited at an impasse.

The alcove widens into a four way split.  North, south, east and west.

They freeze, rabbit hearted.  Their shoes stutter an awful protest as they jerk towards one direction, then the other, searching through possibilities in their mind.  Each path is screaming danger–no viable future–no possible escape–  

But they were so certain, they know they felt…

Too late.

Too long spent debating, making an unwinnable choice, pursuing once last empty gamble.

The shadows flicker and blur, dancing and boiling.  The deafening silence is severed, sliced through by fiendish fox laughter.  Animal cackling juxtaposed against their panting breaths, a discordant melody.

Adrenaline rushes them, hot in their bloodstream, beckoning their feet forwards for one last sprint.

He's on them all at once.

Vicious.  All teeth and heat and bite, devouring their air and their struggle in one fell swoop.  He swallows their gasping breath, tongue scalding against their night chilled lips as he chases the remnants of a scream.

His body is between their knees, arms around the back of their thighs, claws digging into supple flesh, lifting them.  Their back meets the wall as he presses them into it, his dangerous mouth descending.

It’s like being consumed.  Heat and haze and ravenous gluttony.  Each kiss bleeds into the next, teeth at their throat when they have to catch their breath, searing marks into their skin—a deliberately bestowed collar, something to match his own.   Clever lips—clever tongue.

The adrenaline in their blood twists, dips lower and settles in their core.  Their lips part around a pitchy, desperate little noise that makes him chuckle.

They laugh back, arching their back to luxuriate in the feeling of him thrumming against them like a second pulse.  There’s hedonism and revelry in this game of theirs—a dizzying concoction that mixes with the instinctual fear.  Kerosene pouring down their throat, stoking the flames of some heretofore hidden appetite.

He swallows their screams and their laughter the same.  Ravenous.  Savoring.  

A little blood, a little death.  Satisfaction for an instinct they can’t quite find the flavor of.

"Hmmm, you certainly are much more fun to chase these days."  He hums.  It's as close to a genuine compliment as they've come to expect from Vere.  “You work on that stamina a little more and you might even start to satisfy me.”  They huff, hands scrabbling at the wall for leverage – leverage; the word presses itself into their mind, insistent – and he watches them with eyes narrowed in amusement as they wrap their calves around his body and sink their teeth into his lip.

Repayment in kind.

(They wonder if it will be enough.)

[wonder-worker]

Wild how we know that Elizabeth Woodville was officially appointed to royal councils in her own right during her husband’s reign and fortified the Tower of London in preparation of a siege while 8-months pregnant and had forces gathering at Westminster “in the queen’s name” in 1483 – only for NONE of these things to be even included, let alone explored, in the vast majority of scholarship and historical novels involving her.

[why-the-heck-not]

08.04.24, tuesday

2h10min studying for software testing course

grocery store

3h50min astronomy assignment

went for a run

read Tokyo Vice (by Jake Adelstein)

phone screen time: 30min

[justasmolweebean]

Lavellan mage x cullen romance just hits different

[brandinotbroke]

my mother has just informed me that my first word wasn't mama or papa, it was "meow"

we never even had a cat lmfao

[prince-liest]

THE SUCCULENTS

I have officially amassed enough outdoor succulents that I decided to repot them all into a single-container display and it turned out a little more crowded than I expected but I do adore them and desperately hope that they thrive because I am emotionally attached to exactly all of them.

I have a few left in smaller containers that are doing well as well! The jade tree and burro's tail in particular are growing nicely. I love the red cold stressing on the jade tree.

[good-to-drive]

George would have been such a menace if he'd been able to text... texting Tom Petty at 3 am to tell him he's beautiful and leaving Paul on read for days straight

[front-facing-pokemon]

[rozuizhere]

we all collectively agreed in ppg x rrb fanfictions that they end up growing human fingers and toes and actual eye shapes and nose shapes and lips as if that’s not the most disturbing thing ever lol

[strawberrystepmom]

you learn sign language to communicate with toge when you get word he’s going to be in your class and on his first day you sign hello and he pulls his phone out of his pocket to text you instead with the most flat expression on his face

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Thinking about a character model height sheet from the TAS BTS book that had magneto be 6’10 and charles 4’8 when seated like girl ……….. why the fuck ……. greedy….