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#maybe i will write something
fangdoesstuff · 1 month
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when, me when i’m thinking about them ™
whne i’m thinking about the character ™
the character ™, please save me…
i love you the character ™…. please become real…
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itadorey · 8 months
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These days life has me choking against a wall but I managed to survive to share my vampire wriothesley thoughts (because you are a bad influence and always make me talk LSSKDDK) but you ending up in his castle somehow, a wanderer wandering hungry and thirsty ends up at the gates of that abandoned mansion on the hill.
He opens the door for you and lets you into his home, all the while with his eyes on you as if he were a predator. He feeds you and takes care of you until you are strong enough to leave— but he only asks for one favor in return, one small favor.
"Let me taste you." It's not even a suggestion, you can't refuse or move when he asks it by looking directly into your eyes. His cool fingers graze your neck, squeeze gently and soon after his sharp fangs break your soft skin, sucking with a hint of sweetness even, his hands wide on your hips pulling you tighter to his body, giving you to understand that you're not the only one that something is throbbing.
And all this talk about vampire wrio makes me wonder if you'll be writing something special for kinktober? 👀💖
(Ily!!~)
i hope life starts treating you well 😭😭 it’s what you deserve 🫶🫶
and i had to sit and think about this ask for a while. vampire wriothesley who convinces you to stay with him. he has everything you could ever want (him included). slow, sloppy make out sessions where he has you in his lap, hands on your waist as his lips trail down your neck until you’re begging him to either kiss or bite you— you don’t care which. regardless of what he chooses, he always has you squirming in his lap, little gasps and whines leaving your lips as he lavishes your neck with attention.
(ily2 <333)
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the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"
just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible
#due to the Great Data Decay academics write viciously argumentative articles on which episodes aired in what order#at conferences professors have known to engage in physically violent altercations whilst debating the air date number of household viewers#90% of the couch gags have been lost and there is a billion dollar trade in counterfeit “lost copies”#serious note: i'll be honest i always assumed it was english imperialism that made shakespeare so inescapable in the 19th/20th cent#like his writing should have become obscure at the same level of his contemporaries#but british imperialists needed an ENGLISH LANGUAGE (and BRITISH) writer to venerate#and shakespeare wrote so many damn things that there was a humongous body of work just sitting there waiting to be culturally exploited...#i know it didn't happen like this but i imagine a English Parliament House Committee Member For The Education Of The Masses or something#cartoonishly stumbling over a dusty cobwebbed crate labelled the Complete Works of Shakespeare#and going 'Eureka! this shall make excellent propoganda for fabricating a national identity in a time of great social unrest.#it will be a cornerstone of our elitist educational institutions for centuries to come! long live our decaying empire!'#'what good fortune that this used to be accessible and entertaining to mainstream illiterate audience members...#..but now we can strip that away and make it a difficult & alienating foundation of a Classical Education! just like the latin language :)'#anyway maybe there's no such thing as the 'greatest writer of x language' in ANY language?#maybe there are just different styles and yes levels of expertise and skill but also a high degree of subjectivity#and variance in the way that we as individuals and members of different cultures/time periods experience any work of media#and that's okay! and should be acknowledged!!! and allow us to give ourselves permission to broaden our horizons#and explore the stories of marginalized/underappreciated creators#instead of worshiping the List of Top 10 Best (aka Most Famous) Whatevers Of All Time/A Certain Time Period#anyways things are famous for a reason and that reason has little to do with innate “value”#and much more to do with how it plays into the interests of powerful institutions motivated to influence our shared cultural narratives#so i'm not saying 'stop teaching shakespeare'. but like...maybe classrooms should stop using it as busy work that (by accident or designs)#happens to alienate a large number of students who could otherwise be engaging critically with works that feel more relevant to their world#(by merit of not being 4 centuries old or lacking necessary historical context or requiring untaught translation skills)#and yeah...MAYBE our educational institutions could spend less time/money on shakespeare critical analysis and more on...#...any of thousands of underfunded areas of literary research i literally (pun!) don't know where to begin#oh and p.s. the modern publishing world is in shambles and it would be neat if schoolwork could include modern works?#beautiful complicated socially relevant works of literature are published every year. it's not just the 'classics' that have value#and actually modern publications are probably an easier way for students to learn the basics. since lesson plans don't have to include the#important historical/cultural context many teens need for 20+ year old media (which is older than their entire lived experience fyi)
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buggachat · 6 months
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something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.
But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin
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redysetdare · 25 days
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enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.
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imfinereallyy · 1 month
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Steve walks into his and Robin’s shared living room in the middle of the night to get a glass of water.
Mid gulp, Steve’s hears a soft “hey.”
Steve has only four years of the Upside Down to thank for not dropping his glass and shattering it everywhere. He knows the dangers of a little cut.
It doesn’t help the startled scream he releases.
Steve stares at his couch in horror as the intruder turns the light on.
Robins feet pound quickly into the living room, a metal baseball bat in her hands, “What do I need to kill?”
Steve says nothing. Instead, he points at their couch, where Robin turns and lets out a small gasp.
Because in the middle of their living room is Eddie Munson, famous rockstar and, more importantly, ex-best friend of Steve and Robin, who they haven’t heard from since 1991, sitting on their couch.
Shit.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
now with part 2!
pt. 3
pt. 4
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sukunasweetheart · 25 days
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i so desperately want to write a dark romance with the concept of consuming as a form of intense, obsessive yet ominously beautiful, love with trueform sukuna.
i want him to love reader so much that he almost wants to literally eat her, and i want her to see it not as something to be terrified of, but to accept and recognise that his desire to devour you is not out of malice, but rather, something of adoration...
his mad infatuation would reveal itself in many, many forms. just by simply looking at you, his eyes darken, and his gaze seems to poke and prod at your soul, constantly analysing and soaking the sight of you into his memories. the way all four of his hands touch you, his searing hot palms smoothing over you, littering deep bruises across, claiming your skin as his canvas, embedding marks that indicate his presence in all and every way possible.
how his lips possessively captures yours, tongue twisting around in your mouth - sukuna kisses you with a type of hunger that goes unmatched by anybody else-- his engagements with you are all-consuming, meaning that he doesn't let you get a moment to think about anything else, too pre-occupied with his flames that lick up at your flesh, threatening to burn you down to cinders with its intensity, unmerciful. and when his teeth sinks in, a cry escapes your throat - a cry that isn't pleading for help, but is pleading for more.
sukuna's adam's apple would bob up and down as he swallows dryly, enduring another night of wishing to absolutely devour you whole, and leave nothing of you behind. it certainly doesn't help that you encourage him, egg him on.
he mustn't- he mustn't- he mustn't--
for who will comfort him from the loneliness that would follow, if he loses you to himself?
he satiates his aching desires by lapping up your honey-sweet blood from your inflicted bite wounds, addicted to your unique, intoxicating flavour.
you smile deliriously, like a madwoman, helplessly enamoured by sukuna's dangerous, distorted, yet an undeniably powerful form of his love.
Masterlist
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shibaraki · 9 months
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please write your reader insert however you want to. unabashedly!! write fat reader. black reader. asexual. masculine. tall. trans. disabled. you’re allowed to see yourself reflected in these spaces!!! sometimes your fic won’t be for everyone—it will be for all the people who look, think, love and experience life the way you do and that’s ok! it’s wonderful, actually.
it is not your job to make sure the shoe comfortably fits every single person out there. your only job is to tag it, and if anyone tells you otherwise I’ll personally come out swinging lol
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ink-the-artist · 6 months
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I made a golem :)
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jongseongsnudes · 5 months
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in another universe with enhypen.
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2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.  
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obsidianbit · 7 months
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I love this gay ass show with its literally life ending injuries that heal immediately, but only when convenient to the plot, and its ridiculous use of modern phrases, and its laughing in the face of historical accuracy, and its kissing the face of the fans instead of trying to outwit them, and the way everyone involved in the show seem to go 'I KNOW RIGHT! I'M EXCITED TOO!' instead of mocking the fans
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royalarchivist · 6 months
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Ramon: So opinions on [Bagi]?
Fit: She's legit, we can trust her. We can trust her.
Ramon: Would you rather a dad or a mom [for me?]
Fit: Uh- I- no one! No one. Let's- let's get over to Felps' Square, Ramon. [They head to the warp at Spawn, then Fit hesitates] Um, wait- Ramon. [He pauses, briefly looks at the camera, then says in a rush] If I had to choose between the two, it'd be a dad. Alright, let's go. Let's go, let's go.
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hotpotghosts · 14 days
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zephyrchama · 13 days
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(obey me!) moments where they fall in love with you all over again
---01
It’s dinner, and you’re talking about mundane things that happened during your day. You saw a cool bird, got some gum stuck on your shoe, and bought a new flavor of toothpaste to try. Everyone is listening intently. If only they would pay this much attention in class.
Lucifer knows the way his brothers look at you all too well. It’s a look full of respect, admiration, and fondness. It’s a look that’s often reflected on his own face when in your presence. At first he never really understood why you put up with his siblings, as the option to ignore them and be on your way was always there. Yet you continue to make time for them anyway. How unusual.
Moments like these where everyone is together and you don’t treat them as the Seven Rulers of Hell, you just treat them as your dear friends and family. That’s what makes Lucifer soft. He tries to imagine a long future of things staying just like this.
---02
Mammon’s hesitant to lend anybody money, even you. It takes a few minutes to butter him up and fluff his ego before he relents. At last, he hands you the crispest bill in his wallet. “Don’t spend it all in one place,” he kids, knowing full well he’d do just that if he was in your shoes.
He’s curious what you plan to buy. It never dawns on him that you have no intention of spending the cash. Half an hour later, he finds it on his desk. The exact same bill, now creased and folded neatly into an origami bird.
He picks it up to wiggle the little paper wings, entranced, then looks around frantically and catches your eye. A playful smile graces your face and tugs at his heartstrings.
---03
Leviathan is not typically one to make mistakes when it comes to anime. But even he’s not perfect.
He had it set in his mind that the new show premiered at 6:00pm, which left plenty of time to prepare the ultimate solo viewing party after school. He was humming quietly to himself when you walked over. “Isn’t your show starting soon?”
You specifically took an interest in his hobbies. You remembered that it started at 16:00 (four o’clock), not 6:00. Leviathan wondered, how could he make such a egregious mistake? You were the one who dashed back to the House of Lamentation at full speed by his side. When your human stamina started failing, he unconsciously picked you up so you’d both make it in time. You made it with two minutes to spare.
Sweaty and out of breath, still in uniform, you were able to watch the premiere together. It wasn’t until after credits rolled, you went elsewhere, and the live reactions on social media started calming down that Levi realized what a big deal this was to him. What a big deal you were to him.
---04
Satan wasn’t expecting you to be spacing out in his favorite armchair. He had plans to read in it that evening, and considered asking you politely to move. But the way the lamp light shines on your skin, the thoughtful expression on your face while pondering ideas unknown. The way your lips part ever so slightly and your eyes gaze off into nothing. It captivates him. You look like a painting. His breath gets caught in his throat, and in clearing it he manages to break your trance.
“Oh, hey. Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were there.”
You go to get out of the chair, but Satan insists you stay. It doesn’t look right without you anymore. He doesn’t feel right without you anymore.
---05
Asmodeus does not have wardrobe malfunctions often. His outfits are of the highest quality and a lot of care goes into putting them on. Still, things happen.
When his fans rush forward out of nowhere, sometimes they are successful in tearing his clothes. A fistful of shirt here, a mouthful of pants-leg there. Being in the center of a lust-fueled stampede can make even the most collected people lose their minds, but you are steadfast. You shout at the rabid demons, shaming them for their disrespect. You believe you can chase them off all on your own, not knowing that the Avatar of Lust behind you is exuding a killer aura and warning his fans to back off with a powerful glare.
As you sloppily stitch up what remains of his shirt so he can walk home without the incident repeating, Asmodeus is smiling from ear to ear. You’re so focused on genuinely helping that you don’t even notice the bedroom eyes he’s flashing. The scene of you waving your arms and trying to chase off a pack of demons as if they were stray pigeons is permanently ingrained in his memory. Just as your existence is ingrained in his soul.
---06
Beelzebub knows what he likes. He knows what will catch his interest and is pleasantly surprised when a new one crops up.
One thing he likes is you. Another is food. Both are in the cafeteria. He piles a tray high with carbs and goes looking for you at lunch time, finding you seated in the middle of a long table at the edge of the room. He calls your name.
It’s unexpected, the way you quickly swing your head up mid-bite. Your cheeks are full and noodles dangle from your mouth, sauce dripping back onto your plate. Your eyes light up as you look at him from below. It makes him stop in his tracks, causing several shorter demons to walk into him. Such a simple action, yet so profound. You hurriedly chew and offer him a seat while Beelzebub powers through his emotions. He takes a seat across from you to offer a napkin, wondering when he’ll see that face again.
---07
It’s late, far past everyone’s bedtime. Yet Belphegor forgot to tell you something during the day and decided now would be a great time. When you don’t respond to the quiet knocks at your door, he lets himself inside. Your sleeping figure looks too comforting to resist and he gets the brilliant idea to crawl into bed with you to whisper in your ear.
The problem is, as soon as he lifts the covers, you fart. It’s loud. You don’t move an inch, remaining fast asleep and ignorant of what just happened.
Belphegor freezes in his tracks to process it, but is soon doubled over on the futon laughing. The vibrations wake you. You sleepily open your eyes to see who is in hysterics and ask the obvious: “what?”
Belphegor is laughing too hard to tell you. He doesn’t want to tell you. It’s too priceless. You groggily smack him with a spare pillow and it makes him laugh harder. While he loves to look at you, that week it becomes difficult for him to meet your eyes without erupting into a fit of giggles.
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lollytea · 2 years
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I don't dislike the name change theory at all because I understand the thought process behind it, with the need to distance yourself from every trace of your abuser and all that. So like I get it. But I very strongly believe in Hunter reclaiming his name. Mostly cuz of scenes like this
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It's important to him!! It's the name he uses to distinguish his true self from the persona he's built. It's the name he uses when he wants to be seen as someone other than the Golden Guard. It's the name others use when they want to express that they do see him. The name might have fucked up origins and he's clearly aware of it but being Hunter is the one thing about himself he's certain of right now.
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sukunasdirtylaugh · 25 days
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"you know I'd do anything for you."
"ken..."
"I mean it," the yakuza boss persists, leaning forward as the two of you sit in the comfort of your shared matrimonial bed, 4 months of marriage with yet no arguments to be seen (to the surprise of everyone around you: maids, friends, your mother, and you). kento has been all the accommodating in this transition. even when he knew half your heart did not want to settle in like this, in this world.
"you don't have to say that," you hope the softness in your voice can lessen the weight of your words, "we don't have to do this... thing,"
"does my desire to put myself at your will make you uncomfortable?"
"i-it's not that-"
"then will you allow me?" he asks, "not as my wife, but as you," the way he says your name makes your heart skip a beat, your throat contracts as he leaves you with a question you were not expecting.
"I don't know what you're asking of me." you almost flinch when he sighs, fearing you've made this entirely worse, but at your question, your husband takes your hands in his.
"allow me to join you for brunch," you know exactly what he means by this. every saturday, you liked to eat outside the porch. with a book in hand or a pen, you used these objects as a means of comfort.
you now realize he was trying to be the same.
"okay," you breathe, sighing shakily as you nod. "do you... want to start tomorrow?" he nods.
"I'd like that, thank you."
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