@hauntedhokage / hauntedhokage.tumblr.com
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☆ 𝚕𝚎𝚡 ☆ 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 20𝚜 ☆ 𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛
☆ 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚢 ☆ 𝟷𝟾+ 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ☆ 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖
☆ 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜: ✧𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚔𝚊𝚒: 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕 ✧𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 ✧𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔 ✧ 𝚠𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜
ao3 ✧ masterlist ✧ ko-fi (+commission info)
𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 ♡
✧ 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 (𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜)
✧ 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗
☆ 𝙾𝙲𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚌𝚌𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗
✧ 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚘 (𝙷𝚂𝚁)
✧ 𝙰𝚜𝚞𝚔𝚊 (𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰)
𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗!
thinking about vampire!nanami, who was turned shortly before starting his office job and unintentionally works the perfect hours for being a vampire. Leaves home in the morning when it's still dark, often works so late the only light leading him home is the streetlights and moon - or he stays overnight at the office. His coworkers are all just as lifeless as he is, so nobody notices that he doesn't leave for lunch and only has tea in the mornings. He goes out for drinks with them, only to leave an hour in claiming he wasn't feeling well but when they see him at work next he's refreshingly recharged while at the same time across town somebody has a hangover so bad they're practically immobile for a day or so.
vampire!nanami who makes a mistake, feeding on an unsuspecting woman in an alley only to come face-to-face with you the following evening. exhausted and clearly in pain, trying to pick up the food you'd ordered for delivery while holding your neck.
My blorbos that can totally be vampires
new kink rating scale
maybe just put “eww” near the bottom of the scale and it’ll be perfecto
you understand nothing.
how does your blue lock guy react when you tell him "it's small"?
Ok this might be a bit of a weird question but I keep arguing with my mom and sis about this so I need y'all to answer this
[For context my mom and sis keep telling me I shower for too long but my showers are usually 45 minutes to an hour]
(edit: *your showers not you showers)
Starting a new Mistria playthrough 1. to feel something and 2. to get dialogue right for this fic
you’d been perplexed when sylus had called you in the middle of the day—which was usually his favorite time to rest.
“can you come to the base, sweetie?” he’d rasped, voice thick with ruined sleep. “i need your help with something.”
your confusion is all the more reason for you to head to the base. when you arrive, you let yourself in and greet mephisto with a poke on the beak before hurrying to sylus’s bedroom.
“is something wrong?” you breathe, all but barging in. quickly, you scan the room for threats or intruders before your eyes land on the hulking figure in front of you.
the hulking figure who’s uncharacteristically hunched over his bed, head bent and looking defeated.
at your voice, he looks up, and you know him well enough to see the relief and slight embarrassment in his ruby eyes.
“…sylus?” you ask hesitantly, “what’s going on? you should be sleeping right now.”
“i was asleep,” he agrees with a slow nod. “and then…i ran into a slight problem,” he responds carefully, eyes flitting forlornly to the side of the bed.
curious, you come to stand beside him, placing a hand on his sagging shoulder. it takes a few seconds, but then, you spot it: trapped between the dark oak boards of his bedframe is a small brilliant red gem, glittering slightly in what little sunlight fills the room.
“are you able to retrieve it?” he asks quietly. “it must have fallen earlier. when you’re not here…i can’t sleep without it.”
“o…kay?” you reply, your confusion only doubling. taking a moment to study him, you notice the small pout on his face and stroke his slightly mussed hair. “of course i’ll get it. just a sec.”
a moment later, you’re kneeling down to stick your hand in the bedframe and wiggling your fingers until you feel the crystal’s cool surface. you pull it out in one fluid motion, blow the dust off, and deposit it into sylus’s waiting hand. flashing you a tired, grateful smile, he immediately places it securely under his pillow.
“there you go!” you chirp, pleased to have helped him. “but…can i ask something? why didn’t you just fish it out yourself?”
avoiding your gaze, he clears his throat before he speaks.
“…my hands were too big.”
Itoshi Sae/Reader (gender neutral, no pronouns)
summary: Being in a relationship with Sae, naturally he's one of your favorite things to write about. This time, you feel a bit stuck.
word count: 1.8k
ao3 ✧ masterlist ✧ ko-fi
You’d been sitting at your seat for what felt like hours; the blinking line on the page taunting you — daring you to actually start working on your article. You weren’t under stress or pressured by a day approaching deadline, having a little over a week to get this sent over to your editor, your hands and your brain were simply refusing to cooperate. Words floated through your mind, creating ideas that sounded great until you tried to turn them into sentences and creating an internal frustration that you don’t know how to ease.
Music proved to be more of a distraction than support, after you’d spent ten minutes switching between different playlist and albums you simply closed the app to avoid wasting more time. You’d opened the blinds for natural lighting, only to get distracted by the scenery outside and chose to close the blinds, but that then meant you had to get up and turn the lights on so your laptop screen didn’t risk blinding you. Then the screen still felt too bright, your fingers dancing between the buttons that raised and lowered the brightness of your screen until your phone lights up with a notification. The response to your editor turns into texting your friend about your dinner date and new jewelry, but you catch yourself before you open a game that you’d lose yourself in.
You have an article to write, after all.
for april fools we’re deleting this entire site sayonara you weeaboo shits
Itoshi Sae/Reader (gender neutral, no pronouns)
summary: Being in a relationship with Sae, naturally he's one of your favorite things to write about. This time, you feel a bit stuck.
word count: 1.8k
ao3 ✧ masterlist ✧ ko-fi
You’d been sitting at your seat for what felt like hours; the blinking line on the page taunting you — daring you to actually start working on your article. You weren’t under stress or pressured by a day approaching deadline, having a little over a week to get this sent over to your editor, your hands and your brain were simply refusing to cooperate. Words floated through your mind, creating ideas that sounded great until you tried to turn them into sentences and creating an internal frustration that you don’t know how to ease.
Music proved to be more of a distraction than support, after you’d spent ten minutes switching between different playlist and albums you simply closed the app to avoid wasting more time. You’d opened the blinds for natural lighting, only to get distracted by the scenery outside and chose to close the blinds, but that then meant you had to get up and turn the lights on so your laptop screen didn’t risk blinding you. Then the screen still felt too bright, your fingers dancing between the buttons that raised and lowered the brightness of your screen until your phone lights up with a notification. The response to your editor turns into texting your friend about your dinner date and new jewelry, but you catch yourself before you open a game that you’d lose yourself in.
You have an article to write, after all.
