#you'll fit right in

[biancadoes1]

Bianca the Pied Piper of delusional middle aged ladies

Well it seems my pipe worked on you too.

Welcome 😊

[liliallowed]

REALLY? The one we have been praying to all our life is the one that's ruining our life? Fun. Fantastic even. I will cry now. Forever. This is the only way to react to anything.

aw don't be so blue!

"god has betrayed humanity! god has forsaken usss!"

god: *just being a dog minding his own business sniffing butts and chasing 4dimentional orbs*

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[black-and-yellow]

[constantvariations]

I get why people say Wyll/Karlach is enemies-to-lovers but it's missing too many of its signatures for me to agree

By nature, E-t-L's are slow burn. A good chunk of the story waits for one party to discover they're on the wrong side/both parties to realize they have more in common with each other than their factions, then a whole other chunk is dedicated to them learning how to trust each other. The higher the stakes in the story, the slower the burn

Yet everything between Wyll and Karlach is revealed and resolved in a single conversation. There are no lasting consequences of that initial animosity. Both are too good to hold grudges and all the fault lies firmly in hands not their own. Karlach trusts Wyll instantly and he her. Their friendship is so immediate that it's easy to forget that we met Karlach with the intent to kill her

And then there's the source of their quarrel. Wyll was led to believe Karlach's a devil seeking destruction and Karlach was just trying to go home. The thing that sets them against each other isn't their own beliefs or loyalties or anything deep seated and personal, it's the chain of command, something they're both eager to be rid of by the time we meet them. While it gives them something in common, it leaves them with nothing to unpack or overcome together

Compare that to the king of E-t-L's, Zutara of Avatar the Last Airbender. Zuko spent most of the show's runtime trying to capture the Avatar to guarantee the Fire Nation's total conquest, something Katara wants to prevent at all costs. When the two are stuck together by happenstance, they lash out at each other only to bond over their lost mothers. Then Zuko betrays her, something Katara does not forget and does not forgive until he proves himself much, much later. Afterwards, they support each other, watch over the others together, and make a damn good team against Azula. Perfect, should have been canon, fuck Bryke

Honestly, I think Wyllach is just Faerûn's version of a meet-cute

[unimportant-ramblings]

A humble plea

[nostalgia-tblr]

The immense satisfaction that comes from saying "wait, how old is this book?" when Amazon tries to sell me a very old-fashioned-looking work for 'just £1.99' and then finding it on Project Gutenberg for free instead.

[junhecas]

Hookup ads in Gensokyo:

-LF drinking partner. MUST keep alcohol well and can pay for own tab. Likes it rough. Liking horns a bonus.

- 29 bi looking for energetic top. No social climbers. Bring your own food.

-LF knifeplay partner. Must be capable of bleeding. Open to threesomes.

-Fertility Kami looking for one night adventure. Any gender, any species, any degree of corporeality. No relationships.

-LF +1 for leather night at geidontei. Just to make an old flame jealous, but extras could ensue if I like you.

-1600+, pillow princess. Partner must have the strength (and girth) to match her confidence and fit to experience reality break down around her. Blow my mind <3

-fistfight in the clearing close to the path in the forest of magic. No magic, just fists. Capped claws allowed in reason.

[princessnijireiki]

Whataburger and Popeye's ass bag colorways

[ybkitten]

Just when she was learning how to walk you throw her in the cube??

[esuterunokitsune]

Welcome to the hellsite(affectionate), fucker!

Bro my sister just forced me to Dowland this shit so I guess I'm in the tumbler shithole now.

[kinaesthetiqueer]

(follow-up to this)

having grown up in atlas, weiss is very familiar with the academy's team anti-frat policy and gets very hung up on just how much trouble they could get in if anyone thinks they're dating.

(which they're definitely not doing. no, sir. absolutely not, sir.)

so better safe than sorry.

(except winter has eyes. and also doesn't care.)

[ebbing-terror]

"🎄🎄MERRY CHRISTMAS BITCHES🎄🎄!! Now that it’s finally DICKmas 👅💦Santa’s about to slide 🎅🏾😉 down your hot 🔥 hot 🔥chimney tonight. So lick 💦💋those juicy candy canes and drink up that creamy eggnog🍼, it’s about to get wet down at Santa’s workshop🍆🍆! Don’t forgot to slide down that XXXtra 🎅🏾🎅🏾 big North Pole, and make sure your 🍪 cookie 🍪is yummy enough for Santa to eat👄! 👀 But are you bad enough to handle Santa’s giant juicy 8=candy👊🏼COCK=D💦?? Send this to 🔟 of your baddest bitch elves💁🏼💁🏾 If you get 5️⃣ back, youre on the naughty list this year🍆💦! If you get 🔟 back you better be ready for Santa’s hot ♨️CUMlate☕️💦😭 If you get 2️⃣0️⃣ back you’ve got the most bitchin 🍬peppermint 🍬pussy in the North Pole! ❄️⛄ Hope you get to blow 🌬 lots of XXXmas 🎄dick, and that you get lots of XXXmas 🎄CUMMIES 💝💝 HAVE A SLUTTY 💦🍆👅DICKMAS YOU HOE HOE HOE!!! 🎅🏾🎅🏿🎅🏽🎅🏼"

"I thought you didn't know anyone that knew about us? How'd they know you'd be getting your stocking stuffed?" The curse sighed. Was it that friend that distanced herself from Lynn? Someone new? How did he not notice?! Were they inside the phone - a person from the internet?

No, no, no. The point of isolating his pretty prey wife was so that she didn't have outside influence. After Junpei... well, there were only so many people he could kill before she cracked. And that wasn't any fun when he was trying to keep her alive and sane. Sane enough, anyways. He knew that ship fucking sailed long before he arrived.

"I dunno!!!"

Lynn's hands flew up to pull her hair, scattering a mess of crinkled papers all baring the same message.

It was true, she had no idea who the hell had been bombarding her with these fucking letters. (Pun intended.)

She had been tearing up those filthy notes and used them to warm their home all week!!!!

Did she have another stalker on her tail?! Had someone been spying on them?! Could they see Mahito?! Were they a sorcerer?!

Now she was getting scared!! Wheels of paranoia began spinning off their squealing hinges. She thought this was just some stupid spam, an obnoxious prank but no...The more she mulled it over, the more malicious the festive fuck cards became. The girl's rage plummeted into fear, her posture straightened and her head whipped around like a meercat, looking for any breach that could grant unwelcome eyes to peek into the perfect little life Lynn curated with her curse.

Now it felt as if eyes were everywhere, bubbling upon the walls and staring down from the ceiling like horrid suns burning away the shadows of her biggest secret.

Lynn threw the curtains shut over the already closed blinds, she ducked and peered under furniture and inspected her plants for cameras, she even got up onto a chair and dug into the wires of her smoke detector in search of a recording device but the more nothing she found the louder her paranoia became.

Lynn leapt down, pouncing onto Mahito and clinging to him like a little squirrel.

"I don't know what's happening!!"

And that's what people feared the most, isn't it? Well, luckily for Lynn Mahito always had the answers and solutions to any problem she could ever have. She clung to the curse, wanting nothing more than to hide far away where no one else could ever find them, away from all these awful, annoying people!!

[morningstargirl666]

Me: [uses the word "debonair" perfectly in a sentence, knowing it's the right word for the job]

Me, ten seconds later: [searches up "debonair" in the dictionary because I don't have a fucking clue what it actually means]

[pa-pa-plasma]

man, I'm kind of getting real fucking tired of people treating disinterest/repulsion of sex as an evil that needs to be defeated. just say you have no idea what consent or coercion is & go