I miss this place.
And I miss all of you.
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
One Nice Bug Per Day
Today's Document
AnasAbdin
noise dept.
Xuebing Du
RMH
wallacepolsom
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Mike Driver
cherry valley forever
Cosimo Galluzzi
todays bird

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Origami Around
trying on a metaphor
styofa doing anything
sheepfilms
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸

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@straydemonologist
I miss this place.
And I miss all of you.
No more active RP posts
Hey, so. The holidays are over, and this place isnât very fun. Three reasons:
(1) Iâm busy. Iâm in school, and itâs the kind of school that will eat all the time I will give it. And I need to give it a lot.
(2) My old friend group on here is mostly deactivated/moved on to other mediums/living in the real world. Iâll be pursuing other routes of contact with them.
(3) I have a bad taste in my mouth regarding some previous interaction on here, and no amount of time Iâm letting pass or purging my surroundings on here has fixed things. I wasnât allowed closure and making my own doesnât work here.
So, just a heads-up, I wonât be making active RP posts on this blog (or my multitude of others) anymore. Is that âarchivingâ a blog?
Iâll make a few posts explaining the rest of Adrianâs story I had planned out, Iâll post art, maybe Iâll queue a few things I see around, and thatâll be it. Iâll also probably make a post directly addressing my followers in thanks.
Iâll also be leaving information in a post or two on how to contact me outside the blog.
No more active RP posts
Hey, so. The holidays are over, and this place isnât very fun. Three reasons:
(1) Iâm busy. Iâm in school, and itâs the kind of school that will eat all the time I will give it. And I need to give it a lot.
(2) My old friend group on here is mostly deactivated/moved on to other mediums/living in the real world. Iâll be pursuing other routes of contact with them.
(3) I have a bad taste in my mouth regarding some previous interaction on here, and no amount of time Iâm letting pass or purging my surroundings on here has fixed things. I wasnât allowed closure and making my own doesnât work here.
So, just a heads-up, I wonât be making active RP posts on this blog (or my multitude of others) anymore. Is that âarchivingâ a blog?
Iâll make a few posts explaining the rest of Adrianâs story I had planned out, Iâll post art, maybe Iâll queue a few things I see around, and thatâll be it. Iâll also probably make a post directly addressing my followers in thanks.
Iâll also be leaving information in a post or two on how to contact me outside the blog.
Date Blight
clumsybluscout:
Bill glanced down to the hand that rested on his sleeve, and the glow began to return a bit, albeit not the power of the strange light show when he got out of the cab. He cleared his throat a little as if that might dispel it.
âYouâre shaking⌠Iâll warm you up.â Bill murmured slightly. It was a little alarming given his usual notion of warming anything upâŚ
Thankfully he seemed to drop it when they reached the hostess and the hand not at Adrianâs hip went to dig in his suitjacket.
âOf course Teacup, itâs such a hard place to get into here you know. Itâs in very high demand, and you have to know just the right people to get in!â Finding what he sought, Bill fishes out what looks like a black business card and passes it to the hostess. She looks it over before nodding and motioning for them to continue.
âIt took a while to get this vessel to find a good deal so I could get us in good⌠Only the best after all.â He chuckles lowly as they enter the restaurant proper. It is a bit on the more dimly lit side but there is no doubt no expense has been spared, from the paintings on the windowless walls to the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Other diners were speaking eagerly and all sported similarly expensive suits, jewlery that likely cost a pretty penny was also in evidence. Another suit clad man met them and led the way to a table with a few candles and a single red rose set at the center.
âBring us the wine menu, we have to find a good⌠red.â Bill comments curtly as he pulls the seat back for Adrian as their server set down menus down at the table. The demon then turned his attention to Adrian with a chuckle.
âWas this worth the waitâŚ?â
Adrianâs face went bright red as demonâs words of warming him sank in, staying that way until he was drinking in the faces of all the elite and illegal company and he was sinking lightly into the chair offered him. He didnât know what was going on with this establishment, but he had only been among comparable wealth two or three times before in his life.
âThe quality of an evening is best judged by looking at the company with whom Iâve spent it,â he uttered in guileless reply up to Cipher after giving a thanks to their server for their time, his long fingers fidgeting with each other in his lap (eternally restless hands).
He flashed another little smile to their server upon the drink menuâs delivery but didnât reach for the menu, instead asking the manâs personal favourites and chatting his way to the serverâs ultimate suggestion of a single fine blend.
It was a pleasant distraction from pondering the nature of the place where they sat. Adrian couldnât put his finger on it, but something seemed... off. He couldnât recognize a single dish at the tables around them, but that was to be expected, correct? It was a stereotypical facet of fine dining to him. But everyone spoke in such a... private way.
âHow does that one sound, ...?â he asked of his date, cutting himself off from attaching his usual, vaguely derogatory epithet to the end of the question.
Date Blight
clumsybluscout:
Bills glare on the confused couple he attacked was so intense if not for the old addage of âif looks could killâ it might seem like he was trying to actually accomplish such a feat.
Though given it was Bill, it was entirely possible he could accomplish itâŚ
The glare was broken, much to the relief of the couple now seeming to have second thoughts about entering the building at all now, when Adrian tugged him inside and he even gave a small choked sort of noise that was more surprise than anything else. He recovered quickly and cleared his throat.
âNo but he was looking at you. Didnât you notice?â Bill murmured as if a glance was obvious cause for a physical attack. He chanced a glance over his shoulder again and narrowed his eyes, adding under his breath,
â Blf dlmg nzpv rg slnv glmrtsg rm lmv krvxvâŚâ He then straightened up as if nothing alarm had been muttered.
âIâm being a good date Teacup, what would I be if I just let just any old suffer puppet look at you?â Bill gave his best winning smile, as usual it was borderline terrifying on a human vessel that just seemed like it shouldnât be able to show that many teeth at once.
âLetâs go and check in shall we? Stay closeâŚâ Bill added, as if the hand he moved to loop around Adrianâs waist wasnât his own assurance that the man would do just that.
Adrian blessedly missed out on the coded threat in his concern over the odd phrase âlooking at you.â Was it an intent to drug? Target for some sort of mugging? Could the demon read intent that easily?
âNo, I, er, I didnât...â
He moved a hand to Billâs sleeve in an automatic response of compliance, trying to hide how the apparent danger of the place had his thin form shivering like a winter leaf. The hand at his waist got a testy little sigh, mostly out of nerves than anything, but he said nothing against it for reluctantly agreeing with the safety it seemed to provide. There was strength in numbers...
... Though two was more dangerous than one where Cipher was concerned.
âWe âcheck inâ?â he repeated under his own breath, certainly not familiar with reservations or that level of class. His hand on the edge of the demonâs stolen sleeve tightened a little, though his light and even steps betrayed none of the fear.
As they approached someone evidently some form of hostess, he flashed a bright and relieved smile. She was a member of whatever this place was, and there was additional security in that notion.
Date Blight
clumsybluscout:
Oh, that snort. Bill hadnât meant to do that. He had gotten caught up in the moment of Adrian unexpectedly throwing out a meme and it had just happened. What was worse was the man noticed it.
It was small but of course Bill noticed the stare, it made him raise a hand of the vessel to his face to cover his mouth, stolen brow furrowed. There was what might be deemed a blush starting up at first glance if not for the fact it didnât darken the face of the vessel, but rather brightened it. As if a faint glow was coming from beneath the skin, from the being underneath.
It almost made Bill miss Adrian speaking about the human heart.
âRh gszg gsv hlig lu rnnligzorgb blf sfnzmh hvvp? Zm rmermxryov svzig rm gsv ovhh orgvizo hvmhv?â It was hard to tell if he was being genuinely curious or not, seeing as how his tone was muffled behind the hand and his eyebrows were drawn down as if he would give away nothing on the vessels face.
He was spared, or maybe damned as it were, when the cab stopped fully.
âTllw, R gslftsg sv nrtsg szev ulitlggvm sld gl tvg gl gsrh kozxv. Dzhm'g zm vzhb urmw.â Bill muttered and lowered the hand when he deemed to have seemingly gotten himself under control. He was actually the first out of the cab to come around briskly and open the door for Adrian, manners after all.
âLetâs get ourselves all situated then, shall we?â Bill switched to English in the apparent company of larger groups of people that would likely be inside. His grin was back, as if he was in control after the embarrassing snort incident.
At least until he realized this was much better lighting than in front of the flat where he had met Adrian in the first place.
And the man looked a lot more handsome than he first thought.
There was no mistaking it now, aside from the wide eyed staring Bill was doing, he was definitely glowing.
âYb gsv hxzovmv girzmtovâŚâ
Bill made some sort of strange choking noise and looked around abruptly, as if suddenly concerned they might be under attack by someone. Adrian looked really good, really good. What if he attracted the attention of other diners?
Well aside from breaking their neck to solve the problem, he wouldnât have it.
Perhaps that was why he squared his shoulders when he noted another couple walking toward the doors of the dubiously unmarked restaurant and a man glanced their way. Maybe it had been harmless.
But what if it wasnât?
âIâll lead the way,â Bill stated rather briskly and walked forward.
He made it a point to kick the shins of the man who had been stating sharply so he yelped and leapt aside, dragging his date along since they had their arms linked and all. Bill then maintained a threatening glare on them while holding the door open for Adrian.
Adrian turned his legs to get out once the door was opened for him (which was enough to take him by surprise), but he paused at catching the demonâs stolen eyes on him.
What was it? Was he making a misstep in leaving the cab? Adrian blinked owlishly up at the demon as a hundred different risks and possibilities ran through his head. So many disasters could happen-- but would the demon truly try anything in public? What was that peculiar aura about that face?
He at last stepped out, gingerly-- and only once it seemed Cipher was having some sort of similar panic.
âI--?â Adrian looked between the cab driver and his companion as the latter took off. The cab driver just shook his head quickly and slammed on his gas to swerve off into traffic, door still slightly ajar.
The researcher watched him until he was out of sight, but when he looked back at the demon, Cipher seemed to be in an altercation. Everything was escalating a little too quickly.
âGod above!â he gave a yelp of his own and trotted to pass through the door opened for him, trying to crane his neck enough to look back at the mildly traumatised couple even in grabbing the possessed manâs lapel to draw him inside the building. âDid you know that man?! What on Earth, you daffy demoniac?â
Date Blight
clumsybluscout:
âDvoo, R wl szev z drmv rm nrmw gszg rh rmwvvw ivw. Yfg gszg'h uli ozgvi.â Bill commented cryptically, he made no attempt to crowd Adrian too much. But given the small space it was almost a given he was going to be nearly stealing the other manâs air at times.
âLs rg rh tllw uli gsv svzig, gszg rh hlnvgsrmt blf sfnzmh ziv lm gsv irtsg gizxp lu. Rnkligzmg litzm, gsv sfnzm svzig.
"Zmw bvg rg'h hl uiztrov ylgs urtfizgrevob zmw orgvizoob, rhm'g rg? Sld wl blf sfnzmh wl rg? Orev hl olmt drgs hfxs uizro yrgh zmw krvxvh? Rg'h znzarmt.
"Wlm'g gzpv rg gsv dilmt dzb lu xlfihv, rg'h z xlnkornvmg.â Bill grinned, as if he had said something truly charming. There were worse things he had uttered sure, but that wasnât perhaps in the realm of what people usually considered⌠flattery.
The demon blinked however when Adrian went on and for a rare moment he seemed to be at a loss for words. Maybe briefly flickering through his knowledge as to context, or simply already knowing it and just trying to make sure he had heard Adrian right.
Then he snorted.
âR⌠Hsllgrmt Hgzi'h yvvm yfhb szhm'g hsv?â Bill managed after a hearty guffaw. Of all things he never expected Adrian to say something like that.
âR dlfowm'g dliib zylfg gszg Gvzxfk,â Bill paused to indicate a large building they were approaching as their somewhat relieved looking driver turned into the parking lot.
âR dlfowm'g ivxlnnvmw gibrmt gszg drgs olyhgvi zmbdzb.â
Adrian glanced over at his companion at the vague reply but decided to let that simply run its own course. Heâs know in due time, and it was only wine in some sense of the word, so nothing dangerous aside from perhaps a poisoning.
Though the mention of his daughter made his brow furrow at first (she would not have wanted this entire incident), he couldnât help but... stare openly as the demon laughed and snorted and carried on. It was... oddly genuine. Free of malice. He felt like he just saw some rare animal behaviour for an ethogram, and it made his eyes widen.
At talk of life and hearts, he counted streetlamps for a few seconds before admitting, perhaps a bit too softly, âGsvb wlm'g zodzbh ozhg gszg olmt. R szw z svzig zggzxp zg...â He cleared his throat. â Nlwvim nvwrxrmv szh dlipvw nzmb nrizxovh lm sfnzm olmtvergb.
âSldvevi, R nfhg lm lmv klrmg wrhztivv. Urtfizgrevob, R dlfow mld gifhg nb ldm svzig gl gsv vmwh lu gsv Vzigs. R urmw rg z mzgfizo xlmhvjfvmxv lu szermt tlmv gsilfts oruv'h hgifttovh. Ru blf wlm'g kfhs blfi nfhxovh, gsvb wl mlg tild, zmw gsv svzig rh nzwv lu evib hkvxrzo nfhxovh. Dsvm gsv sfnzm svzig urtfizgrevob yivzph, gszg rhm'g gsv vmw lu rg: rg ivxlevih, nvmwh rghvou. Rg xzm ivulin zugvi wvxzwvh lu wlinzmxb, zmw rg xzm hkivzw hgivmtgs gl xlfmgovhh lgsvi svzigh. Gsviv rh mlgsrmt uizro zylfg gszg.â
He stopped his tirade as the cab pulled to a stop, quickly turning his head to size up their apparent destination and gain whatever information he could in these (âcriticalâ) first moments. Lobster-- probably a casual seafood diner. What was Jeff always talking about-- Red Lobster? Was this the red lobster?
be the cryptid you wish to see in the woods
studio ghibli movies are like if someone took all of your fondest, softest childhood dreams and put them into a film
me and my friend arriving at an all you can eat buffetÂ
@mokamo
human: *is heating up food*
alien: why are you doing that?
human: you see i want the particles in my food to vibrate at just the right frequency
Human: *is eating ice cream*
alien: wait you forgot to make that one vibrate!
human: well, you see, not with this food
This one is already vibrating at he desired frequency, but if it starts to vibrate at a higher frequency I lock it back in the cold box.
Human: *just reheated pizza in the oven*
Other human: *is eating a slice of the same pizza, but cold*
Alien: *exasperated sputtering*
Human: shots! shots! shots!
Alien: this liquid has negligible nutritional value and, furthermore, contains some molecules that I believe are poisonous to your species.
Human: âŚlook, sometimes we just like to gather in social groups and disorient ourselves
that is some next level knot magic.
 it isnât though!!! itâs because most relationships arenât worth the effort. The âsweater curseâ is actually most commonly called the âBOYFRIEND sweater curse.â Which=heteronormative, but the curse most often falls on a woman knitting a sweater for a boyfriend. Before she finishes the sweater, they break up - pop culture would have you believe itâs because the boyfriend freaks out do to the weirdness/clinginess of having a sweater made for you, but I think knitters are wiser than that.
Itâs because after spending serious ÂŁÂŁÂŁ on materials, and then HUNDREDS OF HOURS OF LABOR on the creation of the item, with every stitch a prayer of totally focused intent, creating a large display of technical skill - it is then gifted to a non-knitter who does NOT APPRECIATE the work/effort/skill/cost/TIME it took to make it, and in fact thinks youâre a bit weird and making a big deal out of a piece of clothing, and after they go âoh thanksâ and shove your creation in the cupboard next to a sweater they got for ÂŁ15 at an M&S sale, then they never wear your sweater because itâs too tight because when you asked them how their favorite sweaters usually fit they said âI âunnoâ and when you measured them for the fifth time and asked, rather tersely, if they had enough room in the chest, they said âI guess,â and then if pressed they say they donât really like the sweater design, but then you point out that they were supposed to participate in helping you design it and they say they donât really care about how things look, and when you say that you tried to match it to their other clothes so how can they hate it, then they say that honestly their mother still buys all their clothes because they hate going shopping, and that they hate all their other clothes too, well. Thatâs when a sensible knitter goes âFuck this shit. And you know what? Fuck this man.â
This is what happens when someone posts in a knitting forum âAttack of the sweater curse!â - this is the usual story. It has a rigid plot. It is as old as myth.
Thatâs when you look at the time you spent and realize, âI could LITERALLY have written the first draft of a novel instead of doing this.â Thatâs when you go âI could have taken that ÂŁ200 and bought myself a new wardrobe.â Thatâs when you go âI could have taken all that intent, all that willpower, all that creative force, and laid down some fucking witchcraft, all right?â Thatâs when you go âI basically spent 100 hours straight thinking about this bastard while making something amazing for him, and I have no evidence that he ever spent 10 hours of his life thinking about me.â
And âI could spend this time and energy and money in making myself an enormous, intricate heirloom silk shawl with just a touch of cashmere, in elvish twists and leafy lace in all the colors of the night, shot through with subtly glittering stars, warm in winter and cool and summer and light as a loverâs kiss on the shoulders, suitable for draping over my arms at weddings or wrapping myself in to watch the sea, a lace-knotted promise to myself that I will keep for my entire life and gift to my favorite granddaughter when I die, and she will wear it to keep alive my memory - but instead I have this sweater, and this fuckboy.â
The sweater curse is a lesson that the universe gives to a knitter at an important point in their life. It is a gift.
Knitting a sweater for a husband or wife generally doesnât call down the curse, because the relationship is meant to be stronger than 4-ply.
(Although I say this, but Iâve taken over 5 years to finish a pair of mittens for my husband, because he casually asked me to do something customized with the cables, and I still canât get the math to work on the right hand.)
this post is so much better with that commentary
âI have this sweater and this fuckboyâ is going to be my verbal shorthand from now on for anything I regret investing time, money or attention into.
â Grim Aesthetics â
[Wondermark] this is the coolest thing.
Tag yourself; Iâm a fondle of unicorns.
Date Blight
clumsybluscout:
Whereas Adrianâs movement into the cab was quick, Billâs own was slow, almost as if he was trying to drag it out by the seconds before he closed the door with a small snap. His grin seemed to glow faintly by either the too-white teeth of his vessel, perhaps he had bleached them beforehand.
âOh that clever mind thatâs got me so attracted to you always knows the clever questions to ask.â He purrs and hardly seems to move when the cab begins to move with a little jolt.
âRg'h ml nzggvi ru sv orhgvmh, R'ev ulfmw nzmb lu gsvn wlm'g hvvn gl zhp jfvhgrlmh ru blf kzb gsvn dvoo vmlfts.
Gslfts R wl hl olev svzirmt xlwvh xlnv uiln blfi orkh drgs hfxs vzhv.â Ironic, considering some of their more intense and darker coded exchanges had been far from anything that might glean such a comment from the shape.
Bill chuckled a bit as he caught a glimpse of the driver looking in the rearview mirror with no small amount of confusion.
âRg dlfow yv ufm gl pvvk fk gslfts, R gsrmp dv'iv xlmxvimrmt srn. Rg'h orpv z wrmmvi kiv-hsld.â
He took a deep breath and ran his fingers lightly through the carefully styled hair of his vessel, as if making an attempt to arrange it in a manner Adrian might find most pleasing visually.
âLs nb wvzi Gvzxfk, blf pmld sld xolhvob R pvvk nb vbvh lm blf. Zmw bvg blf hgroo nzmztv gl hfikirhv nv!
Dszg'h gl hzb dszg R nzb zmw nzb mlg szev nrhhvw, drgslfg gzprmt gszg hslg rm gsv wzip zugvi zoo?
Sviv'h zm vzhb glkrx, sld wl blf uvvo zylfg drmv?â
Adrian stared out the window nearest him in the hopes of memorising where they were going. He may well need to know for escaping, he joked to himself.
His face heated up again as his companion joked about attraction to him. Always on about that, he thought. Honestly...
His eyes caught the reflection of so many streetlamps and headlights when he looked to the motion he felt and heard beside him, visually tracing the part of the demonâs (victimâs) hair.
â... R'ev kiverlfhob zyhgzrmvw uiln gsv olg lu rg, yfg drgs gsv ivxvmg bvzih' mvgdliprmt lkkligfmrgrvh rmeloermt drmv, R'ev zwnrggvwob yvtfm gl vmqlb gsv ivw ezirvgb... R xlfowm'g mznv gdl yizmwh, yfg gszg'h nb mzgfiv.â
His tone grew easier as his words progressed; the rustiness of the code fell to the wayside in even this short practiceâs wake. âR ivzw gszg rg'h tllw uli lmv'h svzig.â
He looked again out the window, a wry grin turning up the corners of his lips as he recalled a joke Mabel would make sometimes to be excused from the dinner table. âZh gl dsvivevi blf'iv gzprmt nv, R wl slkv rg dlm'g vmw rm nv hgfuurmt yivzwhgrxph rmgl nb qzxpvg zmw hzbrmt R nfhg ovzev rnnvwrzgvob...â