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#i do not want to write again
galaxythreads · 8 months
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I was reminded again this morning why I chose to share my writing with a bunch of strangers on the internet rather than anyone I know.
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mumblesplash · 6 months
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in honor of last season’s poem being called “”end poem”” (all quotes mandatory) this season i made one out of pieces of the actual end poem
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Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽`)ノ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!
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uc1wa · 3 months
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jason todd who’s a little religious and says he wants to wait for marriage to fill you full with his cock and cum. jason todd whose tongue is lapping at your entrance and his fingers are circling your clit, reminding you that the bible doesn’t say anything about the inability to do this.
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bejeweledbaby · 3 months
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obsessed with fics where steve and eddie were each other's first kiss when they were children but they don't connect the dots when they meet again as adults. Neither realize that this eddie is that eddie and this steve is that steve.
let me set the scene:
the older kids are having a small get together at steve's place and they're all sharing their first kiss stories. eddie starts regaling the group with the story of his first kiss with this beautiful boy at summer camp who had gorgeous hazel eyes and the softest hair. steve thinks the story sounds a little too similar to his first kiss. he starts connecting the dots when he realizes the chocolate button doe eyes he used to dream about years ago are the same chocolate button doe eyes he's been dreaming about in recent months. when it's steve's turn to share his first kiss story, he's like, "well, actually you've already heard it." and now eddie's connected the dots and pulls him into the bathroom to kiss about it. and there's some heartfelt love confessions and then they ride off into the sunset together.
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zephyrchama · 27 days
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Asmodeus being overly expectant that MC is going to propose to him any day now for no reason.
It’s a quiet evening and the two are lazing around on the bed in Asmodeus’s room. New skin mask pouches have been opened and applied. New issues of each of the Devildom’s most popular fashion magazines lay scattered around.
MC rolls over until they bump into Asmodeus’ thigh and raise their magazine. “Hey, Asmo. What do you think of--” ”Yes.” There is no hesitation. “Yes, I think we should.”
Asmodeus throws down the magazine he was looking at to lean over and pepper MC’s face with kisses. “Let’s get engaged, right now!”
“Oh, okay, cool. I was just wondering what you thought of this top.”
“Oh... It’s kind of tacky. You’re not wearing that to our wedding, right?”
----
It’s dinnertime and, as usual, everyone is gathered around the large dining room table. MC is across the table and several seats down from Asmodeus, with most of his brothers seated between them.
MC’s plate is almost empty. They give the table a once-over look before deciding on a course of action that requires interrupting the current conversation.
“Pardon me, Asmo, will you-”
Asmodeus squeals and kicks his feet. “Yes! A thousand times, yes! Of course I’ll marry you!”
“Wait, no that’s not what--”
“What!?” Mammon shouts, much to the chagrin of Lucifer next to him.
“In your dreams, maybe,” Belphegor quips.
Leviathan looks like he’s about to start crying.
Satan and Beelzebub, sane enough to not jump to conclusions, seem to piece together the situation. Together they work to pass MC a plate of dinner rolls that had been in front of Asmodeus.
“This what you wanted?” Satan asks.
“Yes, I was just asking for these,” MC sighs. Bread will serve nicely to sop up the remaining sauce on their plate. “Thanks.”
Asmodeus responds, “we can serve them at the reception, I think that’s fine.”
Mammon tells him to “get yer head out of the clouds, Asmo, nobody’s marrying you.”
Their mutual glares practically send sparks across the table.
“Pass them back this way,” Beelzebub requests, wanting three more for himself.
----
It’s the middle of the school day. MC pops their head into a classroom. This time they've mentally prepared.
“Asmo, do you wanna-”
"Yes? Yes! I’ll marry you.” As predicted, Asmodeus runs over and winds his arms around MC’s waist. He presses his forehead against theirs and leans them back into a dip. Several students clap. “Proposing to me at school? How brazen.”
“Well, maybe this time I’ll actually think about it, but you have to take me out for lunch first. Deal?”
Asmodeus looks somewhat stunned. He parts his lips and thinks over the proposition while staring into MC’s eyes, searching for any hint of a lie.
“Wait… Really?” He pulls MC back up and takes them by the wrist. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”
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egophiliac · 9 months
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so on the subject of the "Crowley is secretly Revaan/Laverne/Levin/please Twst give us his name" theory, I think my feelings are best summed up as "I don't really buy it, but it's funny". like, in all seriousness, I'm not opposed to it; I have enjoyed the writing in Twst so far and I'm willing to trust that whatever happens will, you know, make sense and not be terrible. but I'm just not really convinced by the current evidence! maybe that'll change once we learn more, we'll see!
with that said, may I propose a few alternate theories about the possible Crowley/Revaan connection:
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#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#on this installment of things nobody asked but i'm going to talk about anyway#disclaimer that this is mostly a joke please don't get mad at me#(legit no shade to anyone) (speculation is one of the fun things about an ongoing fandom and you never know what'll turn out to be true!)#more seriously i do think there may be some connection that just isn't clear yet#but the more little breadcrumbs we get about what revaan was like the more i think crowley just doesn't act like him#i adore crowley don't get me wrong#(yes he's a dipshit. this is a feature not a bug.)#but like.#not to harp on the scene about lilia's nrc invitation (i am absolutely going to harp on it)#i do not believe that crowley would go through the trash to fish out the pieces and put them back together and save them#just because it was lilia's. just because lilia might want it again someday.#crowley can ✨yasashii✨ all he wants but we know what he's like#and i REALLY do not believe that lilia wouldn't recognize him. i didn't believe it before and i extra don't believe it now.#then again i do tend to be incredibly off about speculation so! who knows! i will trust the writing for now!#i do 100% believe that meleanor would fall in love with the world's biggest dumbass and then double down super hard. that part tracks.#that said i have decided that ambrose being revaan is actually the funnier option just because it would make crowley SO mad#it wouldn't make sense for him to be mad about it and that would just make him madder
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lucabyte · 4 months
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I don't know how everyone isn't also always constantly thinking about how burial rites seem to be potentially one of the few things Siffrin instinctively remembers about their culture. But rest assured. I am in fact always thinking about it.
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Textless version where they're just hanging out. It's fine!
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tubbytarchia · 4 months
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@mcyt-yuri-week day 1 Sun/Moon awooga awooga (Aiko - Star/スター) (Lyrics TL)
(Yeah you're only gonna see GemPearl from me)
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cringefail-clown · 4 months
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the " ive grown accustomed to the idea of not being human anymore, yet ive got this body back. this was the last thing i wanted, and i struggle with the dissonance of my existance" vs the "ive lived as an artificial being for longer than i ever was human, yet theres still so much humanity left in me. ive made peace with the way i am" that is hal and robro in turnabout
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bamsara · 3 months
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i miss solar lunacy ngl. it randomly activates in my brain like a sleeper agent and then i go to the word document, write some and then disappear again
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ghost-proofbaby · 4 months
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a simple life (e.m.)
summary: you try to clean your depression room while eddie's over, but he keeps distracting you.
warnings: none except mentions of a dirty room and panties. also... a lot of nicknames. womp womp. not edited.
pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader
wc: 1.4k+
a/n: just a little sweet something i wrote thinkin' about eddie while i took on the task of finally cleaning my depression room after a few months of putting it off. idk. this is boring. i'm sorry.
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“Where did you even get this postcard?”
“Eddie.”
“Or what about this choker? Is that a bat? It’s a- oh my God, babe. Why don’t you ever wear this? This is hot.”
Originally, you had thought it was a good idea. Invite Eddie over, allow the body-doubling tactic to work its magic, and voila – you’d finally have the clean room you’d been talking about achieving for weeks now, within a few hours. 
“Baby,” you scold, trying to reach across the bed to snatch the necklace he’d found out of his hands. It proves to be difficult, a small pile of laundry you’d been folding hindering you. 
“Sweetheart,” he mimics right back, quick to hold the necklace out of your reach, as if you were anyone near from stealing it back from him. 
“I asked you to come over to help me, not distract me,” you sigh, crossing your arms and trying to look as pitiful as possible. When you’d first invited him over, you’d assured him that he needn’t lift a single finger. You didn’t want him here to help by aiding in throwing away any of the trash that had begun to litter your desk or taking any dirty plates to the kitchen. No, the intention had been him helping with his mere presence – quiet presence. He was supposed to be working on a new campaign for Hellfire, not being so damn nosey and going through the few items you’d tossed onto the bed from the floor, “I just recently bought that necklace, I haven’t had a chance to wear it.”
His eyes light up mischievously, a small grin tugging at his lips, “Why not wear it now, then? Perfect opportunity, yeah?” 
“I’m not fulfilling any slutty maid fantasies you have, Eddie.” 
“What if I say please?” 
You huff and decide to give up the fight about the necklace, returning back to the laundry before you. You were almost done. You were almost done after a full day of cleaning. If your adorably curious boyfriend would just stop picking at your belongings, you’d probably be able to finish within the hour. 
He stands from the small space on your bed he had made for himself, a nest of sorts that he had taken from simply curling up into for a ‘nap’ (which never happened’ to sitting up as he had just been as he clearly grew more bored with each passing moment. “Want some help with folding?” 
“You just want an excuse to get your grubby hands on my underwear,” you grumble, folding a shirt with slightly more vigor to emphasize your point.
You’re right, of course. The first article of clothing he grabs is a pair of lacy black panties. 
“Guilty,” he coos jokingly, but to your surprise, he actually folds the lingerie. Neatly, at that. With careful hands, he folds it even nicer than you would have in your haste, going as far as walking to your dresser and putting it away into the correct drawer. And then, he takes it a step further, and begins to put away the other clothing you’d already neatly wrapped up, suddenly depleting the mountain of laundry by half, “You know, I don’t mind helping you clean.”
“I already told you, you’re helping by bein-” you start to protest, hands grabbing at a random jean leg but not quite yanking it from the pile. 
He’s quick to interrupt you, taking that pair of jeans right from you, “I don’t want to just lay there while you do all the work, contrary to all the sources that say men enjoy that.”
His face isn’t quite as taunting as it had been moments before. Some of the joking has vanished, replaced by something more serious yet somehow softer. The jeans are slung over his arms, neatly halved twice before he sets them to the side and looks at you. 
Your shame is palpable, though. You’d just gotten over the embarrassment of having him over when your room would get this filthy. Disastrous in the worst of ways. Dirty clothes strewn everywhere, plates left for days on any surface you could find in your laziness, coke cans and random trash littering the floor. It was embarrassing. You know he had promised to love you through the good and the ugly, but this was far uglier than he could have ever imagined signing up for. 
It was bad enough to have him see it, let alone clean it. 
“It’s embarrassing,” you finally say quietly. His head tilts, so adorable it tugs at all your heart strings, and you take it as your queue to continue in a near whisper, “It’s gross - I’m gross.” 
“Sweetheart, have you even seen my room?” he scoffs. He’s quick to shove some of the clean clothes up into a pile just enough that he can take a seat at the corner of your bed, quickly reaching out to grab your hands and guide you between his spread legs, “Shit happens. Life gets stressful, work gets busy, sometimes we just don’t feel like cleaning up. Shit happens,” his thumb is sweeping soothingly over your knuckles, clearing the impending storm you hadn’t even been aware of. Maybe he hadn’t either – a naturally caring and comforting aura has always been his thing rather than yours, “Out of everyone in this world, I am the least qualified to judge you.” 
You don’t really understand it. How he can sit there, looking up at you so dreamily when the two of you are situated in the middle of your still unkempt room, your neck still chilled with a layer of sweat and your hair tumbling out of the bun you hadn’t properly secured. But he is. He’s looking at you not as if he doesn’t see the mess, both of the room and of yourself, but as if he does and simply doesn’t care. 
“Besides,” his lips are splitting with another grin, his hands squeezing your hands three times, “It’s kind of domestic. ‘M kind of into it.” 
“Me? Doing laundry?” you snort, blinking away any fears that had crept up. It’s hard to feel inadequate with his eyes on you, spilling so many sweet nothings like it’s just another casual Tuesday conversation and not the fuel to your beating heart, “Didn’t you just say you don’t want to just sit and-”
“Us,” he cuts you off in correction, “Us doing laundry.”
“You… like the thought of doing laundry with me?” you say slowly, carefully, unsure of the words as they fall from your lips. 
Doing laundry sounded like the least romantic thing the two of you could ever partake in. 
“I like the thought of doing laundry with you,” he repeats with a nod, “I like the thought of doing laundry with you, of doing dishes together after we just made the world's most mediocre dinner ever, of you complaining when I won’t get up so you can make the bed on the weekend,” he tugs you even closer. You have no choice but to let a knee fall to each side of his hips, straddling his lap as he wraps his arms around you and he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to one of your collar bones, “Call me cheesy. I like the thought of a simple life, but only if it’s with you.” 
Something warms inside of you. The thought of a life of simplicity, of lazy mornings and boring afternoons, all brightened up by the boy in front of you. A boy who creates magical worlds with his words on a weekly basis, a boy obsessed with fantasy novels and all things adventurous, who wants his greatest life adventure to just be a mundane lifetime with you. 
You can imagine it would be anything but mundane with Eddie, but the tranquility still exists and blankets the two of you. 
You lift a hand, carding it through his scalp, careful not to let your fingers snag on his messy curls, “Does this mean you’ll do your taxes with me next week?” 
With a quick snort, he buries his face into your chest, shaking his head furiously, “Don’t push it, sweetheart.” 
You know he will, though. He’ll help you fold the laundry, he’ll help you wash the dishes, and he’ll certainly sit through the dreadful hours of doing taxes if they’re spent with you. 
A few beats of silence. His arms have wrapped just right so that his warm palm presses into your lower back, the other hand tracing a mindless circle over your shirt a few inches higher. Your breathing matches his, fingers rubbing a matching pattern into his scalp that has him humming periodically.
The laundry will get done eventually, but it can wait. For now, you just want to hold your boy, and let him hold you. 
“It’s a date,” he finally gives in, voice muffled, making you smile widely, “I’ll light candles and everything, sweetheart.”
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles
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a2zillustration · 5 months
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Buddy we literally JUST read a scroll about hubris AND you were just inspired about something called "Don't let history repeat itself," that 10 wis stat is really coming through.
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yes good day hi I am being COMPLETELY normal don't look at the tags about this Valentine's YCH from @valkblue 😭
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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Why would you—That's not—I just wanted to ask for help, why did you have to go and make it awkward???
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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dicenete · 10 days
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So what if he didn't have the self-discipline? I just thought how cute it is, he simping for MC so hard. Amount of self-control Clavis has is admirable. I think this was from Beast in Heat event? Or maybe it was the AU event where Clavis was a phantom thief? Don't remember anymore xd IkePri Tag Team:
@scummy-writes @goustmilk @solacedeer @m-mmiy @mxrmaid-poet
@pawnkyyy @ludivineikewolf @violettduchess @floydsteeth @wistfulwanderingone
@sh0jun @lorei-writes
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