Now how can fanfiction destroy you with 2 phrases.
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I can explain the elevated body temperature and heart rates of hybrids, but pretty much everything else makes no sense.
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You said you're an EMT, right? Would you have any opinion on how likely it was for Legend to survive getting hit by lightning and then drifting in an ocean on a piece of driftwood for an undetermined amount of time?
I'm gonna channel my inner Fi and say the chances of him surviving that are less than 5%.
But hey, Windfish magic, I guess??? ^.^"
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My ADHD meds are working backwards
I have more ideas but less motivation
What’s happening
I can’t feel my hands
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One of these days I will finally unleash the full concentrated power of my bisexuality and write the Astarion/Karlach/Tav fic of my dreams.
Oh to be sandwiched between a pair of hot tiefling thighs and the cold arms of a vampire 🫠🫠🫠
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hi! hi! word tag!
thank you @loopyhoopywrites for the tag woo love this game hell yeah
Find: Cool, warm and hot frommmm prophet WIP woah!
Cool (x2!)
… Why was he even down here? He hated the generator room, even when it was turned off. And yet here he was, pressed into the corner furthest from the door, eyes glinting the darkness like little amber shards, crying out at her. Not hungry.
Scared.
“Oh,” she said. “Good. Good timing. Glad someone’s here to see this. Good. Cool. I can look like an idiot with witnesses. Cool. Okay. Fine.”
Warm
It makes a decision, and explodes from his stomach. Unlike last time, it is a reckless advance, a starburst spread across his body, nothing like the methodical conquering from before. It claws at his bones, scatters through his veins, darts along his muscles, and Cain snarls, lips curled back and throat dry enough to make the sound crack, and holds himself tense, ready for the incoming fight.
He hasn’t snarled before. Not like this. Not with his mouth twisting in fury, his nose wrinkling, eyebrows nearly touching. It doesn’t feel right. It feels like he’s putting on a performance, trying to cover his own apathy to settle the nerves of any onlookers, but he’s alone here, nobody to perform to, why is he snarling like this? Why does he want to? It doesn’t feel right, but god, it feels good, a warm prickle of delight up his spine.
Hot
Instinct also told her that he wasn’t going to leave without this knowledge. She had a lighthouse to protect, a lamp to fix, a cat to comfort. Every part of her wanted him gone. “It’s high tide,” she said stiffly. “The paths underwater, so your shoes –“
“I don’t care about my shoes,” he said. A note of urgency had entered his voice, and needles of alarm pressed into the back of her neck, something hot and bubbling starting to fester in her gut. “Can I get there now?”
That's fun. It's Mole, then Cain, then Mole with Cain, cool kids woah.
Tagging uhhhh @kaatiba @ace-malarky @daisywords @chauceryfairytales @albatris to find mmm void, corrupt, sparkle and twitch if you will :)
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Me having deranged thoughts about low grade mutations in fallout, especially mutations withing specific populations: but what if Red feels so connected to the desert because that's the environment they were literally born for
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