TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Noah Kahan
Game of Thrones Daily

titsay
taylor price
Xuebing Du
almost home
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵

PR's Tumblrdome

JVL

oozey mess
The Stonewall Inn

blake kathryn
occasionally subtle
Fai_Ryy
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

tannertan36
art blog(derogatory)
cherry valley forever

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from India
seen from Bolivia

seen from Brazil

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United States

seen from Mexico
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
@faeriessugo

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Nbmk sketch
show me your teeth
this was the first thing i opened tumblr to this morning... today will be a good day :)
OLD WOMEN YURI ❤️❤️❤️
@nobamakiweek
Yes girl this is YOUR sign to block everyone in real life who you know doesn’t gaf about your ass

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Okay yeah that’s sweet
another drawing from itfs week
itafushi [yuuji x megumi] sketch-dump i
moments before disaster
Megumi realizing that Yuji can be pretty high maintenance
Print available! Go here!
possessive husbands

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I'll be waiting for you
express yourself don't repress yourself
pairing: vampire!sukuna x fem!reader wc: 3.6k
The silent house should have made you uneasy.
The absence of life in the wooden hallways was a quiet sign that something wasn’t right, but your longing for solitude outweighed reason.
For the first time in months, you found yourself alone in your room, surrounded by nothing but the weak glow of candles and the furious howl of the wind. That night, no one had the power to bother you.
You were running the brush through the soft waves of your hair when the balcony doors burst open, drowning you into darkness as a single gust snuffed out the candles. Outside, lightning split the sky over the garden, while the fierce wind threatened to tear apart the scattered flowers.
To hell with those white roses, you thought, let the storm tear them apart. You never asked for them—you longed for red orchids.
The shawl you were wearing was too thin to protect you from the cold, and chills crept across your skin as the wind swept into your room. Upset, you stormed toward the balcony with gritted teeth and furrowed brows, when, gradually, slowed down. Each hurried step was now nothing more than a lazy drag.
There was something out there, something that made you forgot that sudden, misplaced fury. Something that intoxicated you, making everything else seem trivial, irrelevant—and it was pulling you. It had been a long time since his last visit.
But ‘pulling’ was never the right word; attraction was. He was calling you, and you were drawn to him just as a pirate to the siren song of a mermaid—enchanted by the promise of heaven, even while knowing it was the devil who awaited.
Helpless against the supernatural force seducing you, you surrendered to his call and drifted toward the garden, seeking that fleeting taste of freedom he offered. You followed him because you knew there were no empty promises with him. Never with him. His sweet vows rang as true as his vows of blood and violence.
A faint voice deep within your mind screamed for you to turn away, to flee, to lock yourself inside your husband’s office and await his return—but you silenced it with ease. The thought of cowering like a hunted animal and praying to some higher power held no allure. Even if escape were allowed, you wouldn’t take it; not tonight.
Your feet had scarcely touched the stone path when an icy breeze rushed to greet you. The wind bared your soft thighs to the night, fine raindrops sliding down your skin, feeding that sinful fire in your chest; you wanted it all. It was freedom, the kind found only with him.
Without ever taking your eyes off the path ahead, you brushed the white roses with a cold touch, relishing the sensation of petals crushed in your palm as you followed his call.
Turning right, stone angels greeted you in the narrow corridor with solemn lips and lifeless eyes. You walked past them calmly, defying them as you let your red shawl trail beneath their sorrowful faces, while feeling a lightness in your chest like never before. How long had she longed for this?
At the end of the corridor, moss-covered steps awaited, the path bending left into the garden’s secret depths. You knew where he intended to lead you.
The darkness was lit only by lightning tearing through the night. No other light remained; the garden’s interior lay hidden, forgotten by the house’s residents. its existence known only to you, and now, to him as well.
You let a thick branch catch your shawl, not even bothering to reclaim it. The red fabric was abandoned without a thought, for the wind no longer mattered. The cool breeze upon your bare shoulders was a welcome caress, a lover’s touch in the night.
The depths of the garden were as devoid of light as its old staircases. The only difference was that there, the moonlight danced gently over the stone altar in the center. The walls, veiled in green growth, the remnants of once-living flowers scattered across bushes and soil, the statues swallowed whole by nature—none of it stirred your interest. What you sought was not there.
As soon as your feet crossed into the secret garden, he vanished. His presence dissolved, and the phantom touch of his nails upon the fragile gates of your mind was gone.
You approached the altar while looking around for him, hoping to catch sight of him even in the dark. Nothing.
How wicked must he be to call out to you so desperately and then leave, abandoning you once again? An evil and cruel creature. Perhaps it was divine punishment—God preventing you from sinning again before it’s too late and He becomes unable to forgive you. For many years you had succumbed to the devil’s seductive call, and for many years forgiveness has been granted to you by God.
Not that it mattered to you. What your parents called divine mercy, you named punishment. There was no mercy in the life you endured, in the house you lived in, in the bed you slept or in the arms that held you at night. It all was nothing but a domestic hell masquerading as heaven. You hated them, hated every single one of them.
And you should hate him too. Curse him for abandoning you to this torment that, day after day, someone told you to value because you were blessed. The chosen one. The honored one.
But how fair would it be to blame him for your anguish when you was the one who sent him away?
Lost in thought, you had scarcely paused before the altar when something seized you in the dark. A terrified scream tore from your lips; yet as strong arms encircled your waist, you yielded instantly against his body. That faint scent, green tea and blood, etched itself into your soul.
However, no matter how familiar it felt and no matter how warm you felt in his cold arms, none of that stopped you from what you were about to do. Sliding your hands over his, you drove your short nails deep into his skin with all your strength. Vile, cruel bastard, always full of tricks and evil plans to scare you.
Your foolish attempt at violence was in vain, no sharper than a cornered doe striking at a ravenous wolf in the desolate forest
He answered to your futile violence with a slow grin buried in your hair . His low, rough laugh twisted your insides with lust, desire, and longing. You pressed your nails deeper into his flesh, refusing to stop until skin tore and blood answered your defiance.
You missed him.
So much.
And your fate could only be eternal damnation.
“Still vengeful, bride?” Sukuna murmured with dark amusement, unfazed by your violence. He remained blessed with the same twisted masochism as ever. It felt like centuries since you last heard his voice.
You were still clawing at him when his hand slid around your waist, certain it was only a matter of time before you surrendered your fragile torment. Uncontrollable shudders coursed through you as his fingertips traced the curve of your covered waist, each touch a brand upon your skin
Sukuna was right, though. It was only a matter of time before your anger faded, because you weren’t capable of remaining angry with him for very long. Least of all over something as trivial as a scare.
Especially now that he had finally come back to you.
You didn’t need to turn around to know exactly how he was looking at you; you knew that desperate, hungry gaze of his all too well. You held him tight as he ran a hand over your stomach, sighing contentedly as he felt the soft flesh beneath your nightgown.
“I am not your bride.” you stated, but he caught the faint tremor woven into your whisper,confidence laced with defiance, yet betraying restraint
“No?” Sukuna asked, bringing his mouth to your ear in a murmur. You shouldn’t have liked the way he smiled against your skin, as if he carried all the world’s truths—or at least, all the truths about you.
He once claimed to know the depths of your soul as well as his own, and you laughed loud. You laughed, dismissing his words as arrogance. Yet now, after years gone by, a chilling fear coils within you; that he might have spoken the truth.
Your grip slackened the moment his hands drifted upward, tracing the sides of your ribs and breasts with a rare, gentle care. The opposite of what you expected from him after you'd hidden for so long.
But you knew him well enough to know the truth; no matter how pleasant his gentle touches were, it was only a matter of time before his true intentions were revealed. Sukuna does not take revenge—he punishes. And in the end, not even you could escape.
And you became even more aware of this the moment his hand wrapped around your neck in a firm grip, laden with threats and painful promises. The pressure around you didn’t last long, and his fingers soon moved upward to press into your face.
A trickle of blood ran down your cheek as Sukuna pierced the delicate flesh with his long, sharp nails. He hurt you for the same reasons you hurt him—both pleasure and torture. The line between those two things was thin when it came to the two of you.
"No…” you whispered, choking back the sigh that threatened to escape as he forced your head against his shoulder. Your skin burned where his nail grazed, sliding the thin strap of your nightgown down your arm.
“Then why did you come?” he asked, his cold nose tracing the curve of your neck. Sukuna lingered over each vein, slow and deliberate, and you knew he could hear the heavy pulse of your blood, warm and frantic beneath the skin.
“If you don’t belong to me, if you aren’t my beloved and craved bride,” he mocked, “why are you here?”
Sukuna pinned you against the altar gently, and your fingernails dug into the stone surface as if it could save you. A single kiss pressed against your skin was enough to make you begin to unravel.
“If you’re not mine, why do you let me touch you so intimately?”
His words didn’t unsettle you as they should have. Just as if thunder were crashing down upon you, your entire body shivered at the hoarse murmur of his voice against your skin. His sharp teeth scraping your jugular and his pointed nails piercing your cheek did nothing to calm the seething storm that grew stronger and stronger in the pit of your stomach.
“You called me.” The words escaped in a broken cry, stolen from you as his tongue wiped away the trickle of blood on your cheek. It was as if he always knew the exact moment—and the perfect way—to break you.
Swallowing hard, you struggled to focus on the harsh words you wanted to say, no matter how untrue they were. “I came because of your desperate call, which continues to bother me every night.”
“Oh, so not only are you vengeful and cruel, but now a liar as well? My little wicked thing,” Sukuna taunted with a sly grin, his teeth grazing your neck one last time before pulling away. You shouldn’t have sighed at his absence, and certainly shouldn’t have leaned toward him, craving more.
He released your face and arm only to seize your hips, squeezing your sides as though he could crush you with ease. The morbid truth was undeniable—he was capable of that, and far worse. Yet why break the flesh, when the mind is so much easier to destroy?
“You’re wrong.” Manipulating you as if you weighed nothing, Sukuna forced you to turn and meet his face for the first time in what felt like centuries.
You had changed over the years;your hair grown long and your eyes hollow with emptiness. Though still young, your knees ached with every snowfall. The appetite that once consumed you were gone after the marriage, and with it, your weight.
But him? He remained untouched by time. The same scarlet eyes glowed like a beast prowling in the dark. Pale lips failed to hide the fangs that gleamed when he spoke. And that broken, curved nose she remembered so well how it once traced the curve her your neck
And—perhaps it was just your impression, given how many months you hadn’t seen each other—but he seemed bigger. Broader shoulders, a wider chest, longer legs; so tall that the he was blocking the moonlight from reaching you. There was no doubt that he didn’t belong among men.
The hand that had left your hip to reach for your face hesitated for an instant as he tried to touch you. As though battling something stronger than himself, his words caught in his throat as he resisted the urge to touch you for a moment. Strange for he had never hesitated before.
Unspoken fury danced within the blood-red irises that fixed on you with merciless intensity. The sight alone sent a thrilling shiver cascading down your spine, impossible to contain.
“You called me,” Sukuna spoke like a man confronting his demons for the first time; furious, indignant, wronged by the evil that tormented him every single night. The sigh that followed was not relief, but raw desperation.
Leaning over you, he left you no choice but to remain ensnared in the blaze of his eyes. You clung to the altar with desperate strength as his hand seized your face, no longer restrained, forcing you deeper into his dominion.
“If I haunt you every night, it’s because you begged me to.” His fingers sank into the bruised flesh of you cheek. Your whimper had no effect on him; Sukuna seemed lost in a frenzy of madness, never taking his eyes off you.
“I rested in an abyss of darkness until you woke me and stirred me from my grave, casting me in this damned torment.”
“I…” you tried to speak, but the grip on your face tightened, and a look of disapproval was cast upon you.
“Do not you dare deny it when you know the truth just as well as I do, unholy enchantress.” A rough thumb carved a possessive path across your cheek, lingering with cruel reverence before descending to claim the fullness of your lower lip.
His eyes left yours to linger on the sight of your red lips brushing his skin. Sukuna pressed his sharp fingernail against the pink flesh hard enough to summon a shudder, yet mercifully sparing blood. The promise of pain hung heavier than its arrival
“You’ve cursed me with the most twisted and cruel damnation of all,” he voiced slowly, as if the confession were falling heavily from his tongue, too much even for him to bear. Turning his eyes back to yours, his thumb slid off your lip and he spoke again. “Hunger.”
Another scream tore from your chest as you were cast upon the altar, the stone cold beneath your back. You could not recall the moment he lifted you , nor the instant he chose to strike, all you knew was the ache splitting your skull and the moonlight burning your eyes.
And most importantly—you felt like prey about to be devoured alive.
Sukuna wasted no time in joining you. Strong hands forced your legs apart, making room for him to crawl on top of you. The heart in your chest began to race, torn between fear and excitement. A not-so-small, twisted part of your soul relished knowing you had power over a creature like him; that human part of you that clung to reason feared the consequences.
Yet even the last fragile thread of reason faltered. His hands descended slowly along your legs, lifting the sheer fabric until it bared your thighs, as though unveiling you to the night itself
You stopped breathing when his pale lips descended to brush against your thighs. The kiss he left was slow, open, deliberate—a test etched upon your skin. Sukuna lingered, waiting, hungering for your reaction, to see whether you would resist or surrender to him tonight.
Unsteady little thing. Like him, you were unpredictable—no one could tell if you would strike to kill or cling to possess. Yet that night, the answer revealed itself. Your fingers dug into the crimson fabric of your nightgown, crumpling it in desperate fists as you awaited his next move, trembling between defiance and surrender.
You watched a wicked smile spread across his lips with dark satisfaction. He wasted no time and rewarded your compliance swiftly, eager for it just as much as you were.
Wet kisses and measured bites marked your inner thigh, heavy with hunger and desecration. You should not have relished his touch—it was sinful, profane, damned. Every revelation Sukuna had whispered before should have filled you with dread, the kind of dread a believer feels when staring into the face of evil.
Still, that was where your greatest flaw lay; you didn’t fear sin as you should. Moments after claiming you had cursed him with hunger, Sukuna was caressing you as if he planned to devour your flesh and soul. One after another, each bite left on your skin lingered longer than the last, sinking in with greater force. You knew all too well where this was leading; every time, it ended the same way.
Fear was what you were supposed to feel, but there was something about him—so tall and broad, arched and eager to taste every part of you—that ignited a thrill no mortal should endure. His hunger was not mere desire; it was devotion, a worship profane and damning.
Slender fingers tangled in his rose‑pale hair as the inside of your thigh was forsaken, his searing touch ascending to your stomach. The thin nightgown offered no shield—every graze of his fangs, every breath of fire upon your skin was felt, branding you with his hunger
Hips, waist, stomach—none were spared as his touch climbed higher, relentless and searing. A low whimper slipped from your lips when his teeth grazed the tender flesh of your bare breast, a bite too gentle to wound, yet heavy with hunger and blasphemous reverence.
Unconsciously wrapping your legs around his waist, you dug your heels in as if leaving had even once occurred to him. Against your collarbone, Sukuna faint smile lingered, and with deliberate force he pressed your thighs tighter around him; a message clear enough—he wasn’t going anywhere
“Tsk,” you heard him tut softly. Unable to think clearly, you pressed yourself even closer against him the moment you felt his lips glide down your neck. “Still acting like a damn victim.”
“You’ve trapped me here, enchantress.” His voice bled against your neck, intoxicated by desire and possession, each word dampened with the trail of saliva upon your skin. “Because of you, I cannot return to my rest.”
You were given no time to respond. The moment Sukuna’s words fell, his merciless caresses returned to your neck, each touch searing, each stroke a promise. Just a little longer, and the skin would break again, blood waiting beneath .
“I feel you—your longing, your anguish, your desires… Everything.” Your back arched from the stone surface.
Your fingers tangled in his hair refused to release him, while the hand at his waist carved red marks where it clawed. His words thrilled you as deeply as the kisses branding your neck, each syllable as intoxicating as the touch itself. “By denying yourself, you deny me as well. And I do not enjoy being denied what I desire.”
“I eat when I want to eat, play with whatever amuses me, and kill whoever’s in my way. And you know what I desire right now?” His voice dripped with mischief and dark amusement as he purred against your neck. Sukuna’s hands slid to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, binding you in a cage of flesh and hunger. The implication was carved into silence, too obvious to go unnoticed.
“No…” you whispered, not daring to say out loud that you knew exactly what he wanted—no matter how much it pleased you.
A low laugh reverberated against your skin, stripped of all but raw, feral pleasure. He inhaled deeply, savoring the moment, before speaking again—his voice more intoxicated, more enslaved to desire than ever.
“Yes… yes, you know. You know what I want because you’re the one who did this to me, and I’m going to have you.” He pressed a lazy kiss to your jugular, followed by the slow scrape of his sharp fangs. The teasing was over now, he was ready to take what he wanted. “It doesn’t matter how.”
-
“In dreams he comes again, and in dreams he damns you. None shall endure—fathers, mothers, children, and kin. Cities will crumble, towns will vanish, and all will be swallowed by the void.”
Standing by the bed, Satoru watched with wide, trembling eyes as his beloved wife descended into madness. That voice spilling from your lips was not yours—it was demonic, unearthly.
The bloodstained smile twisting your face made him recoil, stepping back in fear of the thing that now sat upon his bed, a stranger cloaked in familiar flesh.
“He’s coming,” he heard your voice trembling with ecstatic joy. “He’s coming, and he’s going to kill all of you. Your roses will be bathed in crimson, your walls will crumble. Everyone will cry, everyone will die—there won’t be anyone left to bury the dead.”
“He’s coming for all of you"
a/n: I wasn't pleased with the first version of this that I wrote but believe it or not, I really liked this one. oh, and i will not stop writing him as a vampire. hope you all enjoy it!
Do you fantasize about killing me like I do?
His Muse ❤︎
Artist!Eren Jaeger x Fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🎨˚
fluff one shot german eren paths eren
Synopsis: In London, Eren Jaeger encounters a gorgeous lady with a gracious smile on the train and decides to draw her out of curiosity.
note: this is actually my first time writing after a WHILE so please bear with me and this is mainly in third person!!
Back in London, in the fall of 2025 Eren Jaeger was making his way to the train station. His only goal was to capture the scenery and the emotional atmosphere of London. As soon as he plopped down onto a random seat he swore he stopped breathing for a few seconds when he saw the gorgeous girl in front of him.
"Was für eine schöne Dame.” (What a beautiful lady.) the brown haired boy whispered to himself.
You looked up at the brown eyes staring at you. His eyes pulled away from you , but you couldn't help but notice the red tint in his cheeks and ears as he looked down at his sketch book. To admit, the man was fairly attractive, and he had the perfect mix of feminine and masculine features. Well, whatever. you thought to yourself as you looked outside at the beautiful scenery.
(Eren’s pov)
I had only came here to draw the captivating scenery but I think I found something that was more appealing. Way more appealing. I opened up my sketch book and started drawing the angelic girl sitting across from me. He truly admired you. How could someone look so ethereal while looking at a window? He thought. As he was drawing you he observed your smile the most. His favorite part of you were your dimples. “Gott, sie ist perfekt, wirklich.” (God, she's perfect, really.) he mumbled while sketching your dimples.
As I looked up mid-sketch our gazes collided, and it sparked her to smile softly. I gave her a slight smile while glancing away knowing that my heart was doing literal jumping jacks.
(third person.)
Eren’s stop came. He was upset to leave but he reluctantly accepted his fate and left. While walking across the streets of London he was staring at the drawing of you, thinking that your beauty was way more than his drawing. Eren was lost in thought when he suddenly crashed into someone and the drawing of you slipped out of his hands. When he tilted his head up he realized it was you, the girl from the train.
“Oh, you’re the guy from the platform. I’m very sorry, let me help you with that!” You blurted out nervously while bending down to pick up the drawing.
Looking down closely at the sketch you realized it was your own face. You looked up at his eyes, his refusing to look your way.
“I’m sorry, you just looked very gorgeous in the train—“
“It’s beautiful.” You whispered.
“Really?”
You were genuinely at a loss of words. His drawing was ethereal, you noticed he had signed his name at the side of the drawing, it signed ‘Eren’
“Keep it, Dimples” He said
You looked up at him and smiled at the nickname he gave you, “Thank you, Eren.”
The both of you stood in silence for a few seconds, you finally spoke, “I have to get going–”
“Wait.” he hurriedly said, “Can we meet up again tomorrow, at this exact location? Please, dimples? ” He said with pleading eyes
You smiled at the comment, “I’d love to, I’ll see you later, Eren.”
As you walked away, you glanced at Eren, who was still standing there and gave him a warm smile while he returned one back, waving.
“may we meet again, my muse.” Eren whispered to himself.
banner credits : @pixopix
special credits for helping me is to @faeriessugo 🥹
okay hear me out . . . Satoru Gojo as a unicorn.
🤤🤤🤤
art by Rezijellyfish0 on twitter
sword divider by fairytopea

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
okay hear me out . . . Satoru Gojo as a unicorn.
🤤🤤🤤
art by Rezijellyfish0 on twitter
sword divider by fairytopea
warnings: mermaid hybrid satoru, exploration kink?, suggestive nsfw🔞
“nngh!”
sounds of distressed whimpers force your head out of your book with furrowed brows— you can barely hear the cries under the steady crashing of waves and birds singing in the wind. part of you thinks you might be going crazy considering no one is within your proximity on this side of the beach. you blink rapidly as you attempt to listen in on the sound and when it doesn’t fade, you hesitantly stand and attempt to make your way closer to it.
it leads you to a cluster of all different sizes of rocks near the shore and you sigh. you’re close to just deem yourself crazy, maybe your fantasy book is just encouraging your imagination. but when the whining turns into a faint cry, your curiosity only grows. you squint at the area in attempt to spot the source as you take your shoes off and throw them closer to the dry sand along with your book, as to not get them wet.
you take a step into the wet sand at the very border of the shore where the waves meet your feet as you eye the area.
“is someone there?” you hesitantly call, cringing at the sound of your voice as you look around to make sure no one is seeing you speak to the ocean like an imbecile.
immediately the whining and sobbing halts abruptly, making your brows furrow further with curiosity.
“are- are you hurt?” you ask, taking another step closer to the rocks. the rocks are a bit intimidating even though they’re not submerged much since the tide has shifted so you gulp as you near them.
Just had to share this beautiful fic of otherworldly beauty merman(!) Satoru x f!reader! The interplay between them feels delicate and sweet. Not smut but suggestive. Must read. Also hoping for part 2 🧜♂️🐚👀