#i'll write this

[churrosbitxh]

Just saying...

Neil leaving Welton for Military school and not dying

Charlie not expelled from Welton

Charlie and Todd being there for each other

And shit happens after they meet again

Hmm?

HMM?

[ode2rin]

hii mimi omg u js followed me and i js followed u like a few days ago? but hello :) i love your blog and your personality hehehe also what do u think about isagi ??

HELLO NESSAAAAAA thanks for your kind words :D i always see you in my dash and wanted to be friends ! but now that you asked me about the BESTEST boy, we're now bffs !! anything isagi related is welcome in this blog omg here's my lovely thoughts about this LOVELY man

i briefly mentioned before how isagi was made for friends to lovers. but now !! i have crazier thoughts 🤞 i often call him a green flag but it actually runs deeper than that hehe

i think isagi is the guy that comes after all heartbreaks. despite your prior declaration to abstain from relationships and their accompanying theatrics, he appears to happen, weaving his way into your path. and against your own resolve, you just can't help it but to fall for those ocean blue eyes looking at you like it knew your soul, as if they possess an innate understanding of its language.

and all the moments when you were mistreated and used by hands you believed harbored love fade into insignificance, fading like distant echoes against Isagi's gentle affection.

because being with isagi yoichi feels like watching love begin again.

with him, you realize that love assumes a different hue. one that isn't supposed to break and burn in the name of being reckless, but rather one that is serene and fills your soul with tenderness.

and at night, where he slumbers peacefully beside you, you can't help but to wonder where has he been all this time. but you pay it no mind, for it matters not. because the journey might be hell, but it brought you in this heaven. and for it, there's nothing more to ask.

[yourtreasurechest]

This but make it wlw.

As soon as I can revive him from the dead the wedding is BACK ON !!!!

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

An adaptation of Sherlock Holmes set in a world in which the fictional character/literary juggernaut Sherlock Holmes, and all the subsequent adaptations thereof, still exist.

Sherlock Holmes (pronounced Holl-mess, as he is constantly reminding people) just had the misfortune of having parents who really liked the books, and his attitude towards his fictional counterpart is pretty much the same as that of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Sherlock runs a Youtube Theory channel called Mysteries Unwrapped with Sherlock Holmes. He has received no less than seven cease and desist letters from the Conan Doyle estate, all of which he has so faded managed to rebuff by pointing out that that's literally his name.

(No he won't change his name. He's Sherlock Holmes the real live human person. Let Sherlock Holmes the non existent fictional character change his name.)

John is Sherlock's flatmate. Sherlock almost refused to live with him once he realised that it would mean staying with a medical student named John, and only gave in once John pointed out that: a) he's a biomedical student, which is completely different from an md, and b) his surname isn't Watson.

It's now been three years, which is long enough for them to have developed a genuine friendship, and for John to have a) started working towards his PhD in biotechnology, and b) for him to start dating somebody with the surname Watson.

Sherlock can feel the narrative closing in.

His Youtube channel is meant to be focused on lost media, fan theories and stuff like that, but he keeps accidentally stumbling upon and then solving genuine crimes.

His brother Mycroft may or may not have chosen that name after he transitions specifically to annoy him.

He doesn't even live in London, but somehow the only flat they could afford was on a street named fucking Baker Street.

Sherlock Holmes and the Unescapable Power of the Narrative.

[clonerightsagenda]

I was rambling on the issue of museums and human remains and how certain populations are more likely to have their bodies put on display to be gawked at and then went "well I guess the Pompeii casts were of Europeans. there are bones in there right?" and Googled it to make sure, at which point I confirmed that yes there are bones in there, but more interestingly DNA testing revealed that a cast of an adult holding a child everyone assumed was a mother and child were, in fact, a man and a kid entirely unrelated to him. Honestly that's more moving to me. Maybe they were connected in a way other than blood, but maybe a stranger saw a child when the world was ending and thought the one thing he could do was hold them.

[ducktracy]

sharing a very sage bit of advice from The Simpsons' own John Swartzwelder that i've been trying to hamper down in my writing and drawing alike. let your inner crappy little elf do his worst

[lilliesand-valleys]

[sing-you-fools]

me: this is a background character who's in one scene, has two lines, and is completely irrelevant to the rest of the story. i am going to stop obsessing over what to name him and use the random name generator on behindthename.com. i am going to accept the first thing it gives me and move the fuck on.

behindthename.com:

[football-in-tuxedos]

What's distressing, but also important to understand, about JK Rowling hitting the "Denying trans people were targeted in the Holocaust" point is that it's kind of the last stop before she just goes full alt-right weirdo.

Joanne is denying the Holocaust (if a group was targeted, denying they were targeted is Holocaust denial) and that's going to lead to pushback from historians and experts. But Joanne is too deep in to believe what anyone who disagrees with her says, so she's just going to dismiss what those historians and experts tell her. And once she's disbelieving them about that one thing, well it's just a tiny step to start disbelieving them about other things.

This isn't by accident either, transphobic circles are swarming with far right agitators, ready to use hatred of trans people as an in to recruit people into their causes. They have handbooks for this sort of thing and they are, unfortunately, good at it. I suspect Joanne will be spouting coded versions of Great Replacement stuff by the end of the summer.

This is not a plea to try and pull Joanne out. She's too deep in, and even if she wasn't, she's already demonstrated an inability to examine her own prejudices, an unwillingness to hear criticism and a weakness to flattery. She is perfect recruitment bait for people who know what they're doing, and my impression is she's surrounded herself with people like that.

No, this is to understand two things: First is to use her as an example, to understand how a well meaning liberal can chase their own prejudices down a very dark rabbit hole. We are none of us immune to propaganda and even if we can't change what's happened to her, we can at least use it to protect ourselves.

And second is to understand that one of the main reasons you can't pull Joanne out of the transphobic pipeline is cause she is the pipeline now. She is the transphobic banner bearer now, she is funneling money and attention to these groups, she is their most famous celebrity and she is helping recruit people. Being able to show people how far she's gone, how deep into the right wing rabbit hole she's going, is important to help other people who still think she just "Had some concerns" know where her path leads.

[love-from-anie]

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, heian era, vırgin sukuna, touch starved sukuna, humping, unprotected, premature ejaculation, mdni.

virgin!sukuna who won’t bend knee for no one, fears no one . . is weak for nothing.

nothing except for your touch.

and oh, it irritates him abominably. he’s got a taste of you and he’s addicted. in his royal chambers, he humps his pillow, whetted sharp fangs burying into his lip in utter shame. crimson velvet eyes roll their way into the very backs of his head until he sees ivory white. imagining he’s deep inside of you again, slowly grinding his hips into yours, hearing the melodic sounds of your moans escape from each rough stroke. his heat, he swears to himself as he feels the fabric glue back and forth against his skin. instead of a pillow it should have been your body. “f- fuckkk,” he groans, missing your touch, your skin. you had him whipped, sukuna doesn’t get weak for anyone, anyone except you.

he mercilessly grinds his hips into his pillow, a tiny whimper slipping out of his lips before he swears out your name. again, and again, and again,

the moment you return though — he’s a mess. the once feared ruthless king sukuna ryomen that’s lived for thousands of years was now a whiny mess that couldn’t last five seconds without your touch, without your taste. to him, it was sacred. “woman, i need you,” and his voice for once, it was shaky. you have a smug grin, growing priggish at how clingy you made him and he tchs in annoyance.

“what’s the magic word, ‘kuna?”

it’s a long dead pause, you hear the vexed sigh rip out of his full lungs before he shoots you a glare. “….. please. i need you to touch me again.”

with his entire broad frame slumped back, he watches with blown wide irises as you align yourself against his cock. already, it’s droplets and droplets of sheeny white pre-cum coating near his tip. it’s like a swirl, the shine glistens near his cockhead and you watch as a bit of his foreskin peels itself back. you’re teasing him, rutting back and forth against just his tip and he hisses in want of more. sukuna was so big, taking one of him was like taking two and you’ve never felt more full. your hips rapidly make haste and start to jerk a bit forward and you moan once his fattened tip thrashes against your slit opening.

“mhm,” and then you look down at the demon who’s still got a cute pout contorting against his pink lips. sharp serrated nails of his gently shovels into your skin, clinging onto your hips tightly. “aw, are you shaking, sukuna?”

“s- shut up,” he gruffs, immediately feeling a lump prod its way into his throat.

you have him at your very mercy. he grunts, red eyes flickering back slowly and gradually as he’s feeling himself stretch you open. your cunt was so inviting—the feeling of your warmth holding him hostage was purely mouthwatering.

gaping and all, he feels every direct hit against your sopping wet pussy and he’s just hungry for more. your skin sticks against his as you try to shift your weight, rolling your hips back and forth until he growls out a pathetic surrendering whimper. he’s big and thick and you feel every delectable inch ease its way inside of you. fangs of his still continue to gnaw deep at the bottom of his lip, feeling your hips strike forward at a much more briskly pace.“ugh, god woman. y’r hips ‘s gonna make me-”

a single breath gets caught in his throat— not a lump this time but a single breath, you had him speechless.

a few pink strands of hair that stuck against forehead due to built up perspiration ghosts down his slit brows. “gonna c- cum too quick,” he murmurs, his usual rough tone appearing more shaky. his tone was a lot more vulnerable and weak, only with you.

you’re barely even doing anything. it’s been just a few minutes, just a few minutes of him going inside of your gummy walls and he’s already turning into mush. you run a hand down his buff, scarred shoulder and he merely loses it.

your touch drives him insane, he swallows a nice amount of saliva before his forked tongue lolls out a bit. he’s juddering pitiably underneath you from your sloppy movements. sukuna felt this way for no one, and the audacity for you to just .. make him so lewd, so feral.

there’s a repetitive ringing in his ears as he’s got ahold of both of your thighs. all tips of his thumbs pierce their ways into your skin and his fat cock twitches from your erotically hypnotic rhythm. each sporadic jolt of your hips makes his head toss back, growl after growl rippling from his husky vocal chords. “you’re so loud,” you tease, leaning in to kiss his cheek. his eye twitches from your lips making contact against his skin — yet, he doesn’t question it. in fact, it only turns him on even more. sukuna craved your touch like he craves a victory after a year long battle. “gonna cum for me, ryo?”

“curses.. i-” he stammers, adam’s able bobbing within each whiny syllable that spews out of his mouth.

you’ve definitely got him whipped, you’ve got the king of curses wrapped around your cute little finger. his jaw slowly dangles itself open and a hot breeze of air escapes. his body dramatically jitters from underneath you and you feel a certain familiar spurt shoot its way into your cunt raw. as you’re voluntarily slurping up every part of his fervor, he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

there, your neck’s being met with the keen edges of his animalistic canines pricking against your sweet, candied flesh.

sukuna’s tongue licks against you, making a cute attempt at suppressing his gruff whimpers but it’s to no avail. he’s cumming, and it’s so so much.

he’s seeing red, red and white.

a nice wad of satiny sticky load pours its way into your pussy and he’s just shaking underneath you. his body erupts like a volcano — he’s always so sensitive, desperately craving to cum again and again and again until he’s stuffed so much into your womb.

strong arms hold onto you tight as you just sit there, feeling his seed trickle into the deep soddened parts of your entrance. you’re panting with him, a hand gently stroking near his neat undercut and he groans into your neck. “s- so much, ‘m gonna die,” he mewls out, and it’s so unlike him to see him like this.

sukuna gingerly bites into your skin as he’s dumping such a goopy load into you. he’s panting heavily like a dog, puffs of air leaving out his throat so swiftly. his dick remains inside of you, clinging onto your walls securely for all it’s worth before he starts to hear the wet, slimy squelches. that was always his favorite part — the part where your pussy decides to talk back. “ngh, don’t move, princess. stay still- listen to it with me, please.”

you remain as still as a mannequin as his hot parching cum’s continuing to ooze its way into your puckering hole. it’s a lot, emphasize on a lot because when he cums, it’s a literal overflow.

it’s so much that it starts to race down the crevices of your thighs. a fat thumb of his gathers a good amount of it before smearing it over your pussy. with a sluggish sly expression, you cup his face, watching as he naturally lean into your touch. “you barely lasted a second, baby.”

“shut up, don’t forget who i- i am— oh fuckkk,”

and you start to ride him again, picking up your hips in a manner so ruthlessly sloppy that it gets him whiplash. the moment you start up again, he starts whining and he feels a staticky pulse surge through his weighty cock. with red bloodshot eyes, sukuna eyes you with such intent and not once does his gaze leave. he feels a sudden pang in his heart. but it couldn’t be that, or could it.

sukuna looked so pretty like this. underneath you, eyes half-lidded and beads of sweat racing down each side of his forehead. long dark lashes of his flap every few seconds and he jaw tightens, feeling your cunt soak him dry, milking him. his whimpers and whines were so loud, indefinitely echoing through the thin walls of his forbidden chambers.

your hand teasingly wraps around his thick neck and he’s never felt more aroused. sukuna groans with a snarl—making a cute attempt at baring a fang at you to seem more intimidating but it only makes him cute. a brief croak coming out of him before he grouses pathetically.

“harder. choke me ‘n make me cum again.”

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

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

[raylangivins]

i am Locked In.

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[artschoolglasses]

Seen a couple posts on the dashboard lately about writing with ADHD. So, for the ADHD and neurodivergent folks who like writing but struggle sometimes... check out StimuWrite.

You can set it to make little sounds as you type (or leave them off), and emojis pop up in the corner. You can change the background, dark and light themes, set your word goal, and it gives you a percentage and total word count at the bottom. Though it’s more meant for getting a draft written up, so it doesn’t have spell check or anything like that. You’re meant to just copy and past what you write here into Google Docs or Word or Scrivener or whatever else you use and go from there. Honestly love it when I'm struggling to get words down, though. And apparently there’s an update now for StimuWrite 2?👀

Anyways, give it a try if it looks like it may help. It’s currently name-your-own-price.

[telleroftime]

Imagine Sukuna letting you wash his hair. He's never allowed it before but he heard some ladies in high society talk about how their maids washed their bodies for them from time to time and as a man that likes to try everything - he summoned you to the bathing chamber just so that you could do it.

You, the head servant, had simply assumed that Sukuna intended for you to bring him something. Perhaps the oils in the water were not to his liking, or perhaps he forgot a towel. But no, he orders you to wash his hair for him.

He doesn't think he would enjoy it. He stops you a few times during it too, his hand gripping your wrist before he relents. And when you finally lather the products in his hair? He cannot stop the content rumble from leaving his throat. He relaxes against the edge of the water as his back presses more firmly against your knees that stick out over the edge. You're delicate and that surprises him. He's not used to that, even from his concubines.

You comb his hair too, rinsing it with rice water and making sure each knot is brushed out. He likes it. He will never admit that he likes it, but he does. And you know he does when he summons you once per week to do it again and again. And of course, no one else gets the privilege.