#thank you for dropping by!! ^^

[hirazuki]

Hi-hello, for later, I saw the WIP it good ask game and how about...

📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context.

🔍Give a clue (a picture, emoji, a word, etc) and let your followers guess what a WIP is about.

🤔Do you have an WIPs where you wish you had chosen a different fandom/character?

*jumps back into the void*

Hiiii!! ♡

📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context.

This is from a writing prompt @celebbun sent me months ago T_T that I'm still chipping away at. It alternates between Mairon's and Maedhros' POVs throughout the First Age, and since I don't have a full single POV section completed to coherency to share, here's a couple of random tidbits! Maedhros repeats the words, the first he has ever spoken to him, voice coated with disuse and blood, and meets his eyes from behind matted locks, and smiles something that is too sharp to be one -- ruefully, knowingly, cutting down to his soul. Mairon looks back at the elf hung on the cliffside, and feels as though he is the one in fetters. * He cannot fully follow through on his wrath, and of a sudden he is glad for the black smoke and clouds and lack of sun, for his visage darkens in shame. For he knows that, were their places switched, he would have done the same. * There is a call, distant, on the wind, in the shape of his name. Maedhros pretends he does not hear it. He pulls his cloak tighter, and with frost in his eyes and fire in his lungs, he continues his search in the forest. * He walks into the room and, suddenly, it is five hundred years ago -- no, more -- and he is looking at his reflection made flesh. The moment passes and the remembered radiance of three silmarils fades, and the rust-red hair hair bleeds out to black, scars from battle fade to forge-wrought marks, and eyes of sparking flint shift into vibrant darkness, still clinging to life.

🔍Give a clue (a picture, emoji, a word, etc) and let your followers guess what a WIP is about.

Here's a fairly easy one for you! 😉😘

🤔Do you have an WIPs where you wish you had chosen a different fandom/character?

Hmm, not really! When I come up with something to create (be it drawing, writing, or cosplay photo), I do so with a very specific concept in mind. Usually it's prompted by a line from the source material, or (very, very often) song lyrics that have struck me a certain way about a particular character(s) while I was randomly listening to my music, so the idea for the WIP is intrinsically tied to the fandom/character in question and wouldn't be something I could apply to any other fandom/character. If we're talking about favorite tropes though, I will shamelessly reuse them for each and every one of my fandoms and fave characters; so, you'll never catch me wishing I had chosen a different fandom/character for, say, the "I didn't know where else to go" trope, because I can and will always simply write more of it XD

[reasonsforhope]

"For most people, a rat is at best an unwelcome guest, and at worst, the target of immediate extermination. But in a field clinic in Tanzania, rats are colleagues—heroes even.

Far from a trash bin-dwelling NYC street rat, the African giant pouched rat is docile, intelligent, easier to train than some dogs, and for East Africans, the performer of lifesaving tuberculosis diagnoses every day.

400,000 new cases of tuberculosis (TB) were estimated to have been prevented by these rats, whose sense of smell would make a bloodhound take notice. As [TB is] the number-one killer among infectious diseases worldwide, many of those 400,000 can be translated into lives saved.

“Not only are we saving people’s lives, but we’re also changing these perspectives and raising awareness and appreciation for something as lowly as a rat,” said Cindy Fast, a behavioral neuroscientist who coaches the rodents for the nonprofit APOPO.

“Because our rats are our colleagues, and we really do see them as heroes.”

APOPO uses giant pouched rats to sniff out traces of TB in the saliva of patients. In parts of Tanzania, a saliva smear test under a microscope by a human may only be 20-40% effective at detecting TB.

By contrast, a giant pouched rat like Ms. Carolina, a now-retired service rat who worked for APOPO for 7 years, raised the rates of detection on TB samples by 40% in the clinic where she worked.

Pictured: An APOPO employee with one of their trained rats

It would take 4 days for scientists to analyze the number of samples that Carolina could screen in 20 minutes. For that reason, when Carolina retired last November, a party was thrown at the clinic in her honor, and she was given a cake.

TB is sometimes thought of as a thing of the past—a disease for which doctors used to prescribe “dry air,” leading a modern sense of humor to muse at the antiquated, pre-antibiotic medical advice.

But it remains the number-one cause of death globally from a single infectious pathogen, and Tefera Agizew, a physician and APOPO’s head of tuberculosis, told National Geographic that once people see what the nonprofit’s rodents can do to slow the spread, they “fall in love with them.”

3,000 times in her career did Carolina detect one of the six volatile compounds that can be used to identify Mycobacterium tuberculosis, and she got a hero’s send-off to a special compound to live out the rest of her days with her closet friend and sniffer colleague Gilbert, in a shaded enclosure dubbed “Rat Florida.”

“We’ve made special little rat-friendly carrot cakes with little peanuts and things on it that the rat would enjoy,” Fast said. “Then we all stand around and we clap, and we give three cheers, hip hip hooray for the hero, and celebrate together. It’s really a touching moment.”

APOPO has made headlines for its use of these rats in other lifesaving tasks as well: landmine clearance.

One of the world’s great underreported scourges (a lot like TB, coincidentally) is landmine contamination. There are 110 million landmines or unexploded bombs in the ground right now in about 67 countries, covering thousands of square miles in potential danger. Thousands of civilians are killed or injured by these weapons every year.

GNN reported on APOPO’s demining efforts using pouched rats back in 2020. One rat named Magawa alone identified 39 landmines and 28 items of unexploded ordnance across an area the size of 20 football fields.

If at the start of this story you didn’t like rats, maybe Magawa and Carolina will have changed your mind."

-via Good News Network, March 31, 2025

[phantom-shell]

You say you're tryin' to build a transuniversal polydimensional metavortex? Well that's mathematically feasible, I reckon! :D

[tio-trile]

@scorpling: *galaxy brains* someone should draw the TLT necromancers as their corresponding Sailor Guardians

Me: Oh that sounds like a great idea. Too bad I've actually never watched Sailor Moon tho

Me:

Me: Palamedes in a miniskirt tho.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

january month of yuugi

[queenlypirate]

hi, so sorry to bother you

i absolutely love all your percy jackson fanarts 🩷🩷🩷🩷 (and your teen titans, and stranger things ones too)

i was wondering if you had any fanartists or fic writers for that fandom you recommended 🩷🩷🩷🩷

thank you so much!!!!

aww thank you anon!!! 🥺💕

for pjo artists, i will always rec the classics: burdge and viria, but as for more recent artists, you can look through my pjo and hoo tags!

and for fics: here!

[pinkmirth]

thinking about s/o who likes to dress up their vampire bf (yes i'm talking about adrian) and they always make sure that he likes the outfit too. he's just so pretty i can't 🥺

𝜗𝜚 ࣪ ˖ 𓈒 “DOTE” FT. ADRIÁN ‘ALUCARD’ ȚEPEȘ! ⸻ ( 2k+ ) words of ⨾ fluff + suggestive/nsfw, alucard x fem!reader ( black-coded ), canon-divergent, set in the set in the 15th century (1400s), established relationship, lowercase intended, explicit language, minors shoo!

my love letter! ౨ৎ ₊ ⊹ oh my goodness luna, i adore this!!! doting on adrian and clothing him sounds like a dream! it’s moving enough for me to want to put it into words . . . i ended up writing this out to be a teensy bit sentimental, if that’s okay! i feel like he’d be hesitant to receive affection but eventually ends up reveling in it because it’s just what he needed! adrian truly deserves some loveee, and i’m here to give it to him >.< please enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! ❤︎

there’s something you and your lover like to call the ‘ echoes, ’ simply put, for any noise that bounces off the walls resounds throughout the entire castle. it’s a reliable system, and adrian’s able to use it to call your attention from anywhere within it.

“darling,” there goes his soothingly silken voice, ringing out all the way from the east wing. at times, you’re amused at how it can reach you from this far. “would you come over and give this a look, please?”

at his plea, you’ll be there. so you settle down the leatherback-book you’d been reading, slinking the pad of your finger beneath a page to fold it by the crisp outer corner.

“coming!”

you’re sure he feels you nearing, courtesy of your shallow-heeled footsteps thudding upon the wine-red shag of his home’s romanian rugs. he acknowledges your presence by swinging open the door to the primary bedroom.

you didn’t think you’d have to tiptoe around mountain-sized heaps of clothing upon entering adrian’s chamber— his closet’s practically ravaged. although, living with a dhampir was never known to be an experience short of surprises.

in the midst of all the madness is where he stands, still adorned in his cream nightgown. he’s got a garment clutched in one hand and a pullover tunic in the other. the subtle veins running along his slender hands makes his grip look exasperated. alucard appears to be having one of those days— where nothing feels just right.

“what’s all this, dear? thought you’d have been dressed by now,” you call out, making your way around a stockpile of trousers to approach him. gently, your delicate hands come to settle upon the broad expanse of his clothed chest. just as he figured it would, your touch immediately soothes him.

the man sighs before he speaks. “i apologize,” adrian peers down at you from where he stands, dropping both items to rest his hands on either side of your hips, “i’ll make sure to clean up afterwards.”

“no worries,” you hum, offering him a warm, sweet smile. when he tends to grow reckless, you know what he needs most is a dash of affection. “you wanted me to take a look at something, yes?”

“i did,” he mumbles, sunny eyes flitting over to his plundered closet, “though now i’m seriously reconsidering every single piece that i own.”

you don’t make a point to say it, but you know it isn’t about the blouses or the pants or any of those things. it’s his mind that tends to run rampant on all that’s been and all he’s lost. at tines, it manifests into agitation, a period of overstimulation where one thing makes him shirk and another gets him withdrawn. despite it all, he’s consoled that you’re here to reel him back in and distract him from himself in that dreamy little way that you do.

“show me the one you were last contemplating on, adrian.” you do it with such ease, pulling him out of his own head and bringing him back into the moment. for a good second, he thinks of just how lucky one man could possibly be.

“go on,” you pat his chest, and his lips flit up into a subtle grin. now more content, adrian scours for it and eventually plucks it off an embroidered chair situated in the corner; only God knows how it got there.

pinched between his index and thumbs, alucard holds up the top, exaggerated sleeves and all, presenting it to you; a simple chestnut colored option that shares the same wood-like hue as the bedpost.

“my twelfth option of the day,” he snidely notes. his sarcasm pries giggle from you. “what do you think, love?”

“it’s quite pretty,” you tilt your head, inspecting the piece with sparkly, concentrated eyes. he admires the way a wispy strand of hair falls along to drape against your face. just precious, he believes.

“it’s a little puffy at the sleeves, though.”

“i knew it,” adrian attests, “this is too . . . flouncy.”

“oh, forget what i said! it’s the perfect amount of flouce.”

“no no, it’s far too much. it’s practically screaming at me.” to that, you chuckle a bit. he can be ever so keen to such minute details.

theatrically, adrian mounts the nearby bed and flops atop the tousled sheets, an exhale leaving the depths of his chest upon impact. “i suppose this is just an ‘only-underwear’ sort of day.” you nearly add that he might as well free himself as a whole and go naked, but the poor man would flush so badly that you choose to refrain.

“you know, adrian,” you scan over his collection, eyeing the finest of silks, puffed shirts and ruffles. his wardrobe practically looks fitting for that of wallachian royalty. “i could make it easy, choose an outfit for you.”

its sudden, how he sits upright and turns to you. his eyes blink just a bit wider, a little slower. alucard’s mouth strikingly quirks upwards in a way that makes you believe he hadn’t been comfortable with the idea— almost as though you’d been meaning to treat him like a child.

“you’d . . . dress me up?”

you retract in the slightest, “only if you’d like. it isn’t a must—”

“please,” he ultimately responds, tone soft and low, “by all means.” it had just been the thought of the sheer intimacy that dazed him. you selecting what would fit him best through your eyes, pulling himself free of his clothes, revealed unto you as you’re dolling him up . . . it all sounds so touching and right now, he wants nothing more.

he can feel palpable relief roll off of you in waves as you beam, “sounds perfect, then.” he calms himself and fixes his countenance, gracing you with a sincere smile. rosy pigment scatters itself upon his face. you catch onto that hopeful glimmer in his eye, one that shows he’s pleased though you can’t quite place it. he’s too softened to say that gratitude has overcome him.

your back is facing him as you rummage around and take your pick, “undress while i put something together, alright?”

“bold request,” adrian characteristically quips. you merely laugh, “you should be bare once i turn around, you hear?”

he hums in acknowledgment, although he opts for tidying up the room first. you can’t see him with your back turned, yet you know he made use of his vampirian speed to grab and fold all his clothes that’d been thrown-askew, including the night attire he’d already been wearing. it amazes you that it only took him a solid eight seconds to complete it all.

“i’m sure that’s convenient,” you muse, turning his way with your selections in hand. alucard’s bare now, adorned in nothing other than his undergarments. a plain and skimpy pair of beige-white breeches shouldn’t excite you so— but god, they hang so low on his hips it’s like they’re barely even there. and how could you possibly ignore the way the cloth clings to his thighs? his arms look strong and coiled like wire, and the chiseled lining of his lean torso is embellished by the fleshy-pink scar that runs past his abdomen all the way up the center of his firm chest.

adrian can only hold your gaze for so long before realizing that you’re drinking him in. consciously, he pivots his head the other way as though to escape it, allowing his lengthy hair to drape down and cover the flushing of his fair cheeks.

you inch up to him, setting the clothes on his bedside. you find his larger hand to interlace with your own, and he only grows redder. there’s an indescribable pride that comes with being capable of riling him up.

“oh, don’t tell me you’re shy,” your hum is sugary like marmalade, “i’ve seen you before . . . you’re beautiful.”

“oh my god,” he whispers, pressing a palm to his heated face. sometimes adrian finds you to be too sweet. he isn’t sure how you haven’t yet succeeded at killing him with all your flattery. he bashfully smiles, cheeks warm as you stand high on your toes to peck them. “you and that mouth of yours.”

“i’ll leave you alone before you overheat,” you tease, halting your affections to return to the task at hand. “you love to toy with me,” he breathes out, and your giggle confirms it. you then display your choices; fitted pants of black leather paired with a warm-tan blouse, one that brings out the shine of his sharp eyes and adds a flush of vitality to his fair skin. interestingly enough, it resembles the color of his golden hair. you’d gone with something similar to his typical style so that he’d feel comfortable wearing it; though you know he’s been rather picky today.

“is it okay?” the way you await his approval makes his heart throb right within his chest. if only you knew that you handpicking anything for him was enough to make him fall in absolute love with it. it had never really been the outfit— he’s sure he just needed you all along.

“more than okay.” he smiles up at you, lips soft and pale-pink. you wonder if you’d end up altering the mood if you leaned down to kiss him. “well chosen, dear.”

“i know just what you like, don’t i?” you sound quite delighted, and it warms him up inside. “but of course. it’s my closet, after all.” the both of you share a knowing laugh that makes you feel so wholesome, so bound. you’ll be sure to commit the feeling to memory.

he then rises to his feet, standing a solid foot above you as he works his way into the bottoms you chose. a pout overtakes you, pretty lips pursed as you whine, “i could’ve done that!”

“you’ll get to fix the blouse. sounds fair, yes?” adrian knows if you were to have worn his pants for him, the hard-on he’d sport would’ve been more than embarrassing. you’ve seen each other vulnerable a good amount of times, and made love even more than what could be counted, but during a moment like this would only sully the mood, he’s sure.

with a hum, you give in. “fine,” your fingers trace against the threading of his shirt, “sit back down for me. you’re too tall for me to dress you from here,” alucard’s always found the contrast in size between the both of you to be endearing, especially whenever you go on to mention it. you’re surprised he decides to choose obedience instead of poking fun. he takes his place upon the bed and makes room for you to settle atop his lap. it’s instinctive, how quickly his hands reach for your waist. he rubs them along the patterning of your corset.

“arms out,” you’re a little less content when his touch leaves you, though you adore how well he listens. you ease the top over his head, onto his arms and finally onto the rest of his frame, tucking away the mussed locks of wavy blonde hair that fall array.

“i’ll brush it out for you later, adri,” you murmur, smoothing down the frizz before bringing your hands to cradle his cheeks. his face looks simply ethereal this close; flawlessly structured, handsome yet elegant. once again, his hands find their rightful place upon your sides. you watch him melt in your very hold when you coo, “my pretty boy.”

he whimpers a lowly call of your name. “thank you . . for all of it.” you know these sort of pocketed moments mean so much to him. his gentle pitch wavers with the subtlest hint of desire; you’d know the sound of it anywhere. still soft-spoken, though the slightest bit deeper. raspier, even. he only reserves such a tone for you.

your response is hushed, just about breathless, “always, adrian.” the pair of you are so close that the straightened tip of his nose grazes against your own. when the tension grows too thick and you can no longer escape his lips reeling you in like magnets, you finally lean into him and let your mouths slot, warmth blooming between you. his lithe fingers roam and you suckle at his bottom lip, prying a soft groan out of him.

alucard kisses you with longing, the span of his fangs subtly clashing against the pearly white of your teeth as he works at prodding his tongue inside, nipping at your lips and tasting of you. he frees out soft, little ‘ i love you ’ amongst all the licking and sucking.

you both wind up toppling down onto the bed, with his back to the mattress and your squished breasts to his heart. making out with a man such as adrian always gets so heavy; you’re panting into each other's mouths, swallowing up the other one’s sounds, and you just can’t seem to help but slowly roll your hips into the stiffness of his crotch. a handful of minutes with him already has you entirely soiled.

“this is becoming something else,” alucard breaks away with a huff, fighting himself not to rip off the clothes you just adorned him in.

but fuck, you aren’t helping. “allow it, then . . .” is your solution, bringing the plush surface of your lips to suckle along his jaw, against the column of his throat, right down his neck . . . no point in refraining now. you eased him of his worries, and he only wants nothing more than to repay you.

“quite a shame, dear.” it truly is— especially considering that you put together such a stylish assortment for him. “now everything must be undone.”

© 𝒫𝐼𝑁𝐾ℳ𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐻! ⸻ all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ❤︎

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

reader getting injured because she slipped in the shower, sukuna has to help her get to the hospital, where reader gets some pain meds making her kinda high. she confesses to him while being high

content: fluff, crack. reader is in the hospital and blood is named but there’s no gore. yuuji and sukuna are siblings. i love sukuna and i need him in my life so bad… someone PLS be my sukuna

“So, just to be sure: one margherita for me and one with sausage for you?” Asks you Yuuji while putting on his shoes.

“Yup,” you answer, popping the p. “Can I just have a quick shower while you’re gone?”

“Uhhh, sure, let me go ask Sukuna,” your friend tells you smiling and rushing up the stairs of his home.

You and Yuuji have been best friends since forever. You remember the first time you both cried your eyes out at the park in kindergarten because a lizard had just eaten the ladybug you had been watching for half an hour. Since that moment you’ve been attached at the hip, your homework filled afternoons in high school turning to pizza nights when both of your work schedules allowed you to now.

“Big bro said sure,” comes Yuuji’s voice from the end of the staircase.

“I did in fact not say that,” growls Sukuna from behind him. Sukuna is the same age as you and Yuuji, but he always seemed older. Sometimes wiser, but sure as hell more annoying than his brother. Hotter, too, but that’s a topic for another time.

“I didn’t ask you to join me, big boy,” you say sarcastically, fake smiling. He crosses his arms, leveling you with a bored look.

“Yuu, if you aren’t fast enough you’re not going to find her corpse when you get back,” he tells his brother, still staring you up and down. Yuuji sighs, tired, then opens the front door.

“Make sure to not kill each other. I have a shift after this, stop bickering. You two act like siblings more than I do with you, Sukuna,” he reprimands you both. You and his brother roll your eyes at the same time, then you push him out, closing the door in his face. You turn around and find yourself face to face with Sukuna's menacing grin.

“You have 5 minutes before I come knock at the bathroom door with a kitchen knife, doll.”

You’re scrubbing yourself clean with a random pine body wash you found in the shower when the playlist you put before entering the stall stops. You’re annoyed, because now you’re forced to listen to Sukuna’s ugly songs from the bathroom wall (that he’s blasting just to annoy you), so you try to reach your phone. You’re on your tippy toes, not wanting to get out completely, when you trip and fall since you didn’t wash the soap away from your body. You bump your head on the sink in front of the shower, hard, and you muffle a whine. You close your eyes as hard as you can and open the shower head with the room spinning inside your skull.

“Don’t open your eyes, don’t open your eyes or you’ll fall… fuck, it hurts so bad,” you tell yourself while you speed run the end of the shower and blindly put your shirt over your head. It’s not the first time you've bumped your head on something, you were a crazy kid, so you’ve learned to open your eyes only when you physically can’t function anymore or you'll start seeing stars immediately. You barely get to put your pants on when you notice your forehead feels wet, and you didn't even wash your hair. As you get out of the bathroom wobbling you touch your head. When you open your eyes, you see blood on your hand. The room spins. You barely have time to look up and watch Sukuna coming out of his bedroom frowning before seeing black dots in your vision.

You try opening your eyes, but they feel so heavy. Your body feels rather stiff. What's this smell?

"Oh, she's waking up," a female voice softly says from somewhere next to your right.

"Thank you, miss, I got it from here," a rough voice responds.

"Make sure she drinks a lot, and keep a couple of painkillers near you. The scans show she doesn't have any internal damage, but she hit her head pretty hard. She's going to have a big bruise for a couple of days," the female voice continues. You hear the man making a sound of affirmation.

There’s a brief pause. "Your wife is very lucky. It's not every day that a man takes a woman up four flights of stairs by simple arm strength," the woman concludes sweetly, getting out of the room after he responds with a grunt and closing the door behind her.

"Your ass is lucky I lied or they wouldn’t have let me in, dumbass. Open your eyes, I know you're awake," the voice you now recognise as Sukuna says, getting closer. You try opening your eyes, managing to focus your gaze on him. Everything feels so fluffy, apart from your throat. You cough, and you think you see him rolling his eyes before getting you a glass of water and sitting beside you on a chair. You gulp it down, still feeling fuzzy, then you blink a couple of times.

You gape at him. He's cute. “You look funny,” you say, poking his cheek. He’s so squishy. Like a little mochi. A little mochi filled with strawberries. Strawberries and cream. He slaps your finger away, and you put on a hurt expression. He huffs.

“Why am I here?” You ask. The more you look at him, the more heads he seems to have.

“You fell in the bathroom,” he says, straightening up from the chair and covering your right leg with the duvet the hospital gave you. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture, and he just rolls his eyes again. “Don’t want you to also catch a cold. Yuuji would kill my ass.” You just hum.

“I caught ya when you already fainted. Yuuji came back home and panicked, but he couldn’t back out from work, so I was stuck with your ass. Took ya here but the elevator broke down. And I ate your pizza, by the way. All this is gonna cost ya 200 dollars, cash,” he lists, sprawling back onto his chair, deadpan.

Silence engulfs the both of you, and you don’t know what to say. You heard what the nurse said and you are searching for a way to bring it up, but the words in your mind are all scrambled. It’s probably the morphine that you realise they gave you, IV still attached to your left arm. You open your mouth to say something along the lines of “I’d like to thank your gym membership for this,” but instead the words that leave your mouth are-

“I’d like you to be my husband.”

His eyes snap to your widening ones. “Wait that wasn’t what-“

“Huh?” He just replies, dumbfounded. You panic, waving your hands in the air between you two.

“No, what I meant was- like- thank you for getting me up here- can you stop looking at me with your weird 16 eyes?- not that you aren’t attractive! You’re super hot! But that’s not- oh god,” you whimper, rubbing your face, noticing how you’re just making the situation worse. You prepare yourself for his snarky comeback, closing your eyes, but everything is silent.

Suddenly, you hear him snort. You crack your eyes open, touching the big cotton gauze they put on your forehead. You must be hearing things. It’s definitely the morphine, there’s no way Sukuna is actually laughing.

“Yes, I’m laughing, doll,” he says, chuckling. You widen your eyes.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You cringe.

“Yeah, you kinda did,” he responds, smirking. You groan.

“Take me out to dinner first, damn,” he yawns. You jut your bottom lip out, frowning and giving him your middle finger. Then you register his words.

“You’d come? I mean, if I asked you out.”

“Well, if you’re paying,” he responds, shrugging. That’s still a yes, isn’t it?

He ruffles up his pink hair, black t-shirt straining across his bicep. You can’t contain the urge to poke the muscle.

“Stop touching me like I’m made of play dough, doll,” he sighs, slightly less annoyed than 5 minutes ago.

“Would you let me play with you if you were made of play dough?” you ask, words a little slurred, still poking his arm, and he flexes it. “Don’t show off,” you mumble.

“You’re even weirder when you’re drugged,” he grins. He kinda looks scary, though. If you didn’t know him, you’d piss yourself by looking at his sharp teeth.

“But would you or would you not?” You whine, dragging out the last word, letting your hand fall next to you. He misses the warmth of your hand, so instead, he just puts his on your thigh. To be warm, of course. The room is so cold. Yeah. Definitely because of the missing heat.

“Yeah doll, I would.”

[royalarchivist]

Pac: Tamo junto, Fitch.

Fit: 😘❤️

Over one year after their first (official) date, Fit and Pac finally have their first kiss. 🥹💕

[kaylasficrecs]

mattheo riddle recs - part 2

only one | drabble, fluff | @darkacademicvibes

reader with insomnia | drabble, fluff | @suugarbabe

please, please, please | one shot, fluff | @writingsbychlo

shy girlfriend | headcanon, fluff | @mattyriddlesbitch

obliviate | one shot, flangst | @redeemingvillains

the black lake | imagine, flangst | @redeemingvillains

brushstrokes, sketches, and you | imagine, fluff | @iamgonnagetyouback

a green and silver ring | au, one shot, flangst | @miryum

home at the end of the day | imagine, fluff | @suugarbabe

curls | imagine, fluff | @suugarbabe

after the storm | imagine, flangst | @girllblogging777

home | one shot, fluff | @lenaswritingandstuff

into the woods | imagine, flangst | @doremimosasol

showers & scourers | imagine, flangst | @shyamanuensis

veritaserum | one shot, fluff | @redeemingvillains

cold comfort | one shot, fluff (bit of angst) | @redeemingvillains

back hug kisses | drabble, fluff | @iamgonnagetyouback

are you ladies alright? pt 2 | two shot, fluff | @allurearia

"you should let me crave my name into your skin" | drabble, fluff | @blondwhxrewrites

do i wanna know | one shot, fluff | @riddleriddles

unspoken promises | imagine, flangst | @girllblogging777

his soft spot | series | @ravenclaw-for-all-seasons

looks better on you | imagine, fluff | @simp-for-love

the trouble with you | one shot, flangst (more fluff) | @pizzaapeteer

sleepy mattheo | imagine, fluff | @pizzaapeteer

[love-death-and-desert]

shitpost number

[mustfindcreativeusername]

Sometimes I remember he died, he was dead for real, but SO MANY people loved him SO MUCH that he was brought back to life and got to have so many more adventures and get old and eventually retire and yes it's a fictional character but sometimes I think about that and I have to lie down and have a cry about it. We love you Sherlock Holmes

[anbaisai]

Eeeh, I didn’t know today was also NRC Founding Day! What a coincidence. It must be fate or something!

Happy birthday to Mayu! 🎉🎉It just so happens to fall on the same day as Twst JP's anniversary, so let's have a big celebration today! ✨ (Voice lines under the cut!)

Credit to @/twstinginthewind for the blank Ramshackle card edit!

When Summoned: I didn’t think I’d get to celebrate my birthday in another world. I’m grateful that I’ve found friends in Twisted Wonderland to share this with.

Home: Wah, my hair’s sticking up everywhere!

Swap Looks: Time to get ready for the day.

Home Transition 1: Gotta make my bed before I go! Yup, everything’s neat and tidy.

Home Transition 2: I’m always so hungry first thing when I wake up. Alright, let’s see if there’s any leftovers from last night I can munch on!

Home Transition 3: I look like I have a sprout on my head? Well, we’ve gotta go out there and make sure it gets its sunshine then!

Home Transition - Login: I’m not expecting any gifts, but it would be nice to get some practical things like cleaning supplies. It’s hard keeping Ramshackle spic and span on the headmaster’s meager allowance…

Groovification: [LOCKED]

Home Transition - Groovy: [LOCKED]

Home Tap 1: Jamil-senpai wished me happy birthday and handed me a homemade bento. He really is just like a diligent housewife…

Home Tap 2: The Ramshackle Ghosts surprised me this morning. They woke me up by singing happy birthday. It was really thoughtful of them, so I’ll cherish this memory ‘til I’m a ghost, too!

Home Tap 3: I don’t do anything special to my hair or makeup. I just kinda do what feels natural! Although everyone here seems to know a lot about makeup, maybe I should try asking for tips some time...

Home Tap 4: Ace can’t be nice to me even on my birthday! He just gave me a noogie and said he’d bump me a few times, one for each year. Can you believe him?

Home Tap 5: I really didn't expect to be able to celebrate my birthday with so many people around this year. Nothing beats getting to share all this food with my friends- h-hey Grimmy! That's my share!

Home Tap - Groovy: [LOCKED]

[sturionic]

HALT! Americans seeking to confidently and wrongly explain other countries' politics, and Canadians who failed 6th grade social studies:

Since I've just seen this for like the 20th time today, let's go over real quick some hot topics about the Canadian political system.

Did Prime Minister Trudeau "use the tariffs" as a power-grab to hold onto his seat? No, he did not. PM Trudeau resigned his seat and then agreed to stay on until the Liberal Party of Canada chose a new leader. He abided by the timeline he set, and did not stay a second longer than would have been expected of him under due Canadian process. He is now fini.

Did the New Democratic Party and the Conservative Party initiate a government shutdown? No. The Governor General initiated Parliament being prorogued (which they usually do under the advice of the sitting PM) - which is not remotely the same thing as a USA government shutdown. "Proroguing" parliament is basically hitting a big ol' pause/reset button on any legislative and funding decisions in progress. Everything else in the government continues on as normal. Whether a given Canadian agrees with the current rationale or not, the fact is that Canadian governments do this all the time. The NDP and Conservatives pledged to a future no-confidence vote, which does unseat the current PM - but this is still not the same thing as a government shutdown, and now the situation may change as the PM went ahead and beat them to it by resigning on his own.

Mark Carney is, as of Sunday, Canada's new PM-Designate. Was he (GASP) unelected?! Is this undemocratic?! This one's for the gajillion Americans I've seen spouting this garbage all over social media. Jesus christ no this is not how Canadian democracy works. If you see other Americans saying this, smack them upside the head for me, please and thank-you. Canadians do not elect the individual Prime Minister. In a federal election, you rock up to the booth and are given a ballot listing the MPs (Members of Parliament) for your riding (electoral district) - the idea being that you're voting for a local person who will then go forth and represent your riding's interests in Parliament. Your vote for an MP is also a vote for the political party they are attached to, unless they are an independent. The Prime Minister is elected by the party. Justin Trudeau stepped down as PM, so it is the responsibility of the LPC to elect his successor, and they chose Mark Carney, who won against several other LPC candidates running. No doubt Carney will trigger a general election soon, and the Canadian populace will have the chance to decide whether they like the LPC with Carney at the head any better than they liked the LPC with Trudeau at the head. 4. Are you saying all of this because you're a Liberal Party apologist/Trudeau defender/Carney fan?! No. The Liberal Party of Canada are a bunch of fucking ghouls and it shrivels my very soul that the federal NDP have fucked up every hand they've been dealt since 2015; so our viable choices are "party of fucking ghouls who have been sitting around in a dark room jerking each other's withered tallywhackers for the past century" or "Party who are very open about the fact that they are going to turn around, drop their pants, and sell the whole country to the USA for 50¢ the literal second they're elected." You can hate Canadian politicians or Canada as a country all you like. That said, holy shit, can we not confidently mislabel other countries' politics as 'undemocratic.' It is really, really, CRUCIALLY, FUCKING VITALLY important right now not to accidentally fall ass-first into the American government's strategy of "trying to make Canada look like an undemocratic backwater in need of 'saving'" because that is how the American government sets the stage for invasions of other countries. Please. Do better.

[cairafea]

On the idea of Theseus's Ship: in the end, it's still his, isn't it? It was known as Theseus's, and it will continue to be known as Theseus's.

Even after he has returned to the ground which grew the wood of the hammer used to nail the ship's frame, Even after generations of new wood have rotted and the sails are rags clinging to threads, Even after millennia,

it will still be Theseus's Ship.

Thank you for bringing us home.

Goodnight, Phosphophyllite.

[pinkmirth]

Hiiii! Hope you are well!

Hey I know you are Alucard's number 1 fan🥰 but I was wondering if you would consider writing something (maybe smutty🫣) for us girlies who prefer his daddy.

Sincerely, a Vlad girlie!!

as much as i adore adrian, i cant deny that he gets half of those looks from his father . . . dracula lovers surely deserve a treat too, so here’s a little handful of hcs for papa vlad >.<

protective to the very ends of the earth, is what he is. vlad’s doting to the point where it could come across as concern— but when you have the very king of the undead as your beloved, there isn’t much to fear.

with a man of his stature, over seven feet with the broadest shoulders, largest hands and coldest gaze, just know that the size kink is turned all the way on. though he has to crouch a bit lower to just kiss you, he’ll always make sure to meet you where you stand and shower you in his affection.

let’s give a reminder as to why the people call this man the ‘impaler,’ because he’s packing enough to pull at least five orgasms from you. vlad’s a good 220 cm tall, of course he’d have so much to offer you in bed. there, he takes things ever so slowly; interlacing his hands with yours, careful of his claws, while his other cold palm goes to press against your waist, pulling you into his imposing frame. firm muscle and cool flesh is what you feel when in his grasp. his thrusts are paced, thoughtful, and just enough to make you writhe and mewl beneath him. his goatee grazes your skin as he comes to plant a kiss to your forehead, his breathing heavy and rasped. vlad groans out his endearment, hips throttling forward to slam into yours. as you hold onto him for dear life, legs entangling behind his waist, he goes on to whisper how greatly he loves you.