#(and so do we listening to it)
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
We all know the semi-canonical ‘all the Robins know to hide/duck inside of Batman’s cape, even as adults’ thing.
We also know that Danny ‘is LITERALLY a ghost’ Fenton sucks at remembering his own intangibility while ALSO forgetting to look ahead of him.
All I’m saying is, Danny Fenton (or Phantom, if you’d really like) would absolutely SLAM into Batman on accident while running on roof tops and Bruce ‘Brooding Instinct’ Wayne doesn’t even think twice about letting the kid hide and scanning around for danger before there’s a record scratch of ‘wait who tf is this?’ kicks in.
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp#dcxdp#danny phantom crossover#listen I’m just SAYING#my initial thought is Fenton bc dark hair and how most of the robins have had dark hair#Danny isn’t even necessarily running from danger. he just got into parkour and forgot how to stop his momentum#I mean you CAN have him running from something. give this an ACTUAL plot#but honestly I just think it’d be a fun little setup#Danny peaks out and. in panic. goes#hi we’re the council of the dead. we’ve been trying to contact you and yours about your extended warranty#*extended life warranty or what have you#Danny hasn’t even gotten death vibes from anyone yet so now he has to wing it#yeah hi… uh. Batman sir. if that’s your preferred moniker?#right so we’re basically the ghost irs and you owe death taxes?#yeah you know the saying. death and taxes. guarantees of life. haha.#which in this case means you owe money bc you aren’t dead yet. probably. idk I uh. JUST got the job .#anyways ohhhh hi yep you’re. red hood. yeah so. mm. yeah we definitely need to get you to the ghostly dmv#it’s the same as a regular dmv but people have actually been bored to death in there#(meanwhile Batman is like WAIT IS THIS SMALL CHILD DEAD?!)#(SURE WHATEVER IM RICH HOW DO I FIND A GHOST ACCOUNTANT AND MORE IMPORTANTLY DO YOU RESPECT GHOST ADOPTIONS?)
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Masquerade Road Trip 🚌
Okay but like…. What if instead of using mirrors they had to stuff this whole cast of people into a bus/van
It’d be a little funny
(Also turn up phone brightness to see it better. Or don’t. Idk I don’t control you)
#Listen guys#i put so many fucking details in this#Look please please please please#All of the items up top belong to people. Somewhat obviously but please notice the whack a bitch briefcase#Jamiazu…. Psspspspspspslslsoosos#To me this events happens after they’re dating so-#OH ALSO MAL MAL#HES DOING HIS “I got invited! :)” SIT#ANYWAYS#twst#twisted wonderland#twst fanart#twisted wonderland fanart#okay here we go#riddle rosehearts#malleus draconia#epel felmier#deuce spade#epeldeuce#if you squint#its implied#anyways#rook hunt#sebek zigvolt#silver#silver vanrouge#ruggie bucchi#idia shroud#jamil viper#azul ashengrotto
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
"I'll show you every day that choosing to live was worth it"
some of my favourite scenes from @hijinks-n-lowjinks' fic things i would miss from the other side . this fic tore my heart out fr but like in a good way and i wanted to pay it homage the only way i know how <3
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanart#itafushi#fushiita#yuji itadori#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro#jjk spoilers#jjk manga spoilers#I LOVE PLOTTING AND ALSO SCHEMING#listen i have a lot of feelings and i needed 2 process them and i do that by making art 2 target my mutuals directly#read my about it's there it's in the fineprint if we talk You Are Not Safe smile#i just . BITING BITING BITING this fic#the domesticity the grief the casual yet unfathomably deep soulmatism.......im ruined i tell u Ruined#so naturally i dropped everything#remember how i said lefts/rights r my enemy my beloathed my nemesis. MIRRORS MADE IT SO MUCH WORSE FHGDSAJFGJS I WANTED DEATH#i was like this is incorrect. no this is correct. flips them around in my head. no im wrong again actually#purgatory tbh but we got there (watch me be wrong again tho if i am wrong again i think i will Cry)#anyway!!! i don't have much else to say except pls read the fic and show jinx some love they 1000% deserve it this fic 1000% deserves it#i could only draw so many scenes but i would draw all of it if i could#fr i ws so paranoid abt accuracy lmao cut 2 footage of me looking up rice cooker models and wtf the colour 'carnelian' was#i hope i got everything right i hope i did it justice :'>#also if any1 mentions how megumi's arm in 3 is at an awkward angle. look me in the eye and tell me youve comfortably cuddled with someone#i will call u a liar
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
it really does bother me how no one can seem to answer the question “what even is romantic attraction, really.” like some people are like “it’s who you wanna kiss and cuddle <3” and I’m like ok well kisses and cuddles can be either sexual or platonic depending on context. “It’s who you feel passion/desire/arousal for” well that just sounds like sexual attraction which you can have without even knowing somebody so I fail to see how that’s romantic. “It’s who you want to go on dates with” I go on dates with friends all the time plus “date” is a social construct anyway there’s really no innate difference between a date and hanging out. “it’s who you have deep feelings for” great news for you that can be literally any type of relationship. my friend told me she defined it as “who you wanna give roses to” and I’m like do u hear urself??? like the more I talk to people the more I’m convinced romance and romantic attraction is an elaborate socially fabricated illusion that has no real defining characteristics. and like there’s nothing Wrong with it being a constuct but why people are so attached to defending the supremacy of it is something I cannot for the life of me figure out
#like reading this u might be like ‘sounds like ur just aromantic sis’ but I’m like. listen.#ur missing my point. which is that I literally think romance Does Not Exist#at least not in this bioessentialist way people like to pretend it does#the desire for companionship and the desire for sex are biological drives. everything else is a social construct#which doesn’t mean its bad! or not valid! or anything like that!#but I’m just genuinely do not understand Why we are so bent on treating it like gospel
11K notes
·
View notes
Text
WAIT
WAIT
WAIT
(sjabhdhsjdja fyi i've retracted this post, but it was fun while it lasted lmao)
#prowl#tf prowl#tf one prowl#tfone prowl#transformers one#tfone#tf one#transformers#maccadam#I WAS SO DISTRACTED BY JAZZ'S LITTLE WINGS THAT I DIDN'T SEE PROWL???#WHO DOESN'T HAVE WINGS???#IT'S BEEN JAZZPROWL THE WHOLE GODDAMN TIME?????#JAZZPROWL WING SWAP????#purs post#listen i COULD be wrong#he is very tiny and we don’t see what he looked like beforehand and he is pointy#like i would have totally passed him off as some rando if i didn’t go frame by frame doing that jazz gif#but given that i DID zoom in and go frame by frame for the jazz gif#pretty sure it’s prowl
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Princess and Hero of the First Great Calamity
The orange snoot is very important to me….
#tloz#princess zelda#link#assumedly?#botw#totk#technically#loz redesigns round 2#the first great calamity#the ancient heroes aspect#the ancient hero’s aspect#art#my art#redesign#listen this is probably the one and only time ill draw something furry so if it looks a bit wonky i dont really care lmao#this is one of the few designs where im Under designing one of the characters#ie the heroes aspect is such a messy design#i went of the mural a little bit more for the coloring so a little more orangey red involved in his design#and also changing his face to look a little less offputting#and the greener looking eyes from the mural#the darker fur also helps the teal pop#but yes i made his armor a little less zonai-y and a tad more guardian inspired?#i didnt take away all the zonai vibes because he’s seemingly related to them somehow#i do wish we had a timeline for how long after rauru sealed ganon that this calamity happened#but oh well#but yeah uh zelda#vaguely based on sonia#thats pretty much all i have to say about her lmao#i used more neutrals on her dress to semi emulate the pure white of the mural#while also bringing in more of those sheikah tech colors
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 61-64)
* I-I don't think we were talking about the same thing...
[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]
#FINALLY FINISHED THIS WOHOO#Okay so#I have been keeping this small part of info secret for SOOOO long and it was so funny that JUST this week I got a ton of asks about#Wingdings' voice and I was SO tempted to talk about this little detail#BTW I DIDN'T FULLY MAKE THIS UP#i mean#Yeah I did#BUT IT IS BASED ON SOMETHING I NOTICED!!!!!!#When redacted talks in Wingdings the sound is clean#but when we listen to entry 17 (which is most likely a recording)#There's a VERY loud overlay of garbage noise#And so I was like#I could use this.........#like yeah a sound based on symbols?? we can't understand it! but our brains might do the work for us and maybe try to understand it?#but recording it goes very bad.....#I thought it was fun so I made it a hc for Gaster#and then I applied it here :D#lol#I think the pacing of this one is also a bit too fast but ehh#I hope it's clear#I am so proud of how I drew Alphys in these pages I feel like I am finally understanding her shape and how I want to stylize her#Sans is very good at reading people#He can tell when people are lying#that's why Wingdings didn't lie! he just conveniently forgot to tell him some details about what they found#okay yeah that's enough#TIME FOR THE TAGS#undertale#forgettable-au#forgettable-au-comic#sans
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.
the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.
like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.
but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.
so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.
i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?
but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?
sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?
and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.
nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.
the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!
and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.
#spilled ink#writeblr#i hope it is clear here that i actually very much care about equatorial countries#and that's part of what makes me so angry bc im like. climate refugees exist.#they've existed for a while!!!#and the reply is almost always ''should have thought about that before living on an island"#like fuck dude. do you need to like how people vote before ur like#your entire house shouldn't burn down each summer????#so many of these people make it their life to mock california that they think it's FUNNY#and im like. girl you should be fucking trembling. TEXAS??? ARE YOU LISTENING??#this is one of those times that like. i need to stress how fucking stupid it would be#to let trump win. bc he could have “reached across the aisle.” covid could have been#a MASSIVE commercial success. he has such a huge and bigoted and brainwashed following.#literally just a PR campaign called COWBOY UP and it's pictures of cowboys in bandanas#trump reinvisioned as the lone ranger fighting for the american people against covid. EASY SELL#and instead. companies bought him. it became political. it was not ''oh shit this is 1 enemy let's all be human''#it was ''you deserve to die.''#climate change should be GLOBAL. it should be like ''yeah i hate u but. we do all live here''#i don't have to LIKE my group members to do well on a team project bc we are ALL getting graded.#is that simple enough of an under-explaination lol
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
The musical episode.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#jin guangyao#nie mingjue#Remember jin guangyao: If you do any treachery you will face the wrath of five horses.#When are the horses going to come into play? You'll see.#s2.ep8 had beautiful music... I listened to it on loop while drawing!#Good music to chill out to before you fly into a rage.#This episode really cements how JGY's mind works - It is a matter of long-term outcomes at the sake of nearly everything else.#Morals do not matter to him if the outcome is more favourable.#and at the center of it all - he has learned that the only person he can truly trust is himself.#In turn - the only person his actions benefit are himself.#He will do anything and everything it takes to reach a position of power - not just for the power. But because it means safety.#Because it was something he was denied and the idea of not having control in his life again is unforgivable.#'Happiness' isn't a goal. We are looking at someone still stuck at the bottom of Maslow's hierarchy of needs.#Everything and everyone is a piece in a game. Bonds and friendships are assets. People are dispensable.#He wants to climb for the sake of climbing. He wants praise and recognition because he feels it is deserved. It's all so hollow.#We could go deeper into his psyche on this.#But these are also tags under a comic in which 'evil penis music' is the punchline.
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
they licensed his ass
my finished piece of the FWMS (official name definitely 100%) thing we started a few days ago! I had fun I hope folks had and/or continue to have fun with the sketch as well.
#dimension 20#fantasy high#fhsy#riz gukgak#Fuck With My Sketch#I mean it I'm gonna use that. gotta stop me if u dont wanna#doing things like this is bittersweet bc this slaps and I look at this and Im like well. I will never be able to nail this look again#I guess that's the plight of self taught art. but also it means you have to learn to let go and go look for different delights#you can't get too attached to one way of doing things. you will find many new things on ur way to make more funny bictures n such#this slaps tho Im so happy with how this came out lol. its be a long while since I last drew something in this vein#appropriate that its for riz lol he deserves it. he deserves the photoshoot pieces#funny enough this also kind of was prompted by drawfee? in one of the episodes I was binging (I thiiiink the one bg a day ep)#jacob brought up one of the artists I follow on twitter (havent been there in a decent while lol) who uses a pretty distinct#blue-on-red palette that got me to think abt teal-on-red and then this happened#funny enough I did start the piece with teal-on-red but then I shifted to blue after and was like wait I love this suddenly#and then committed lol. I should work with teal-on-red properly more but for now! we have fun! we enjoy#thats my journey thank u for listening. thank u for drawing with me if u have and come hang next time if u havent
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO
synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues
a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33
”holy shit!”
the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.
”satoru, it’s too early for this...”
”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.
your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.
(snowing.)
with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.
satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.
maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.
it’s beautiful.
satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.
all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.
the first snow of the year.
and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.
there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.
like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.
and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.
(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.
and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)
high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.
and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.
a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.
he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.
— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.
satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.
(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)
”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”
he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.
it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.
so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.
satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.
”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.
”never.”
a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.
a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”
and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.
his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”
his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.
he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.
when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.
you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.
hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.
satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.
because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.
what more could a man want?
”hey, idiots!”
the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.
”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”
”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.
suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.
(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)
with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.
”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.
then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”
satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”
a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”
a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”
and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”
satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.
despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”
”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.
”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”
satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.
suguru sighs.
”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”
his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.
he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.
when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.
the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.
(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.
and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)
suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.
when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.
that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.
”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.
satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”
but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”
a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”
you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”
a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.
and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.
his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.
and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.
(i'm sorry, you big baby.)
satoru grins.
you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.
”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”
he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”
”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”
”and don’t play dumb, either.”
a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”
said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.
and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.
”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”
satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”
you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”
”hmph.”
suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.
and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.
that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.
this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.
(married.)
sometimes he still can’t believe it.
”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”
and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.
and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.
your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.
his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.
(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)
and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.
a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.
and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.
”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”
”— you’re disgusting.”
the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.
and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.
you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.
then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”
”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.
silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.
”… santa can only do so much, baby.”
two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.
”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”
you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”
”of course not! blasphemy.”
a moment passes.
”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”
a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.
then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.
he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.
and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.
he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.
for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?
(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)
— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.
it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.
and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.
warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.
he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.
and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.
he hopes it never goes away.
#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3#i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother#i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u#but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it#and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child#im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#gojo fluff#geto fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#……… thats… a lot of tags.
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
oooooooooough i love you i love you i love you!!!! hand in loving hand !!!!!!
#mine#cats#i was like losing it over th colouring yesterday like this SUCKS and then looked at it 2day n was like. anyway#ive been unstoppable since ive figured out how 2 do glowy things#me n my partner went ice skating this evening !! so so fun#i love how girls will just peacefully hang out in the centre ice doing spins n boys will fast and furious skate around at 100mph#like we dont need to be doing all that#as soon as i see a boy w hockey skates enter the ice i am now leaving the ice#anyway....i got a slightly dubious fantasy audiobook 2day we will....see...how it is#whenever i read a fantasy book written by a man my hackles are up i am scenting the air i am growling#have i finished assassins fate u ask.....no :3#its been sitting at 30% for like 4 months i cant bring myself 2 read more KJBDSSK#there is like so much book left. so much that can go wrong#i will finish it soon i prommy i prommy...n then listen 2 th tawny man audiobooks :3#ngl this fitz n fool trilogy isnt super doing it 4 me im not finding it as Invigorating for sm reason#still good !! but def my least fave of th three trilogies#anyway. i am going 2 bed
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
thank u canon plant nerd megumi for my life
bonus:
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#megumi fushiguro#itafushi#fushiguro megumi#yuji itadori#fanart#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#itadori yuuji#megumi#yuuji#middle one FOUGHT oh my god#angle/arm position/watering can/expression NONE of it wld go right#took 2 hours to get the lines only to realize upon laying down flats that it was still Completely off#so i took a break to bake an entire cake came back n finally it started cooperating#tbh idk if im still shaking off ytd's weird funk or what but this took ages longer than it should have#but its ok bc florist/botanist/general plant nerd megu is free serotonin 2 me#i could not decide on one apron 2 give him#but then i remembered he is th type 2 take his hobby Very seriously of course he would own multiple#looks at the hydrangeas listen . listen I Know i ws bemoaning having 2 draw so many cursing their name etc etc#but u dont understand he had to be holding one he just had to. he told me so. he held a gun 2 my head and said U Know What To Do#and i said ok ok ok ok#there r only 2 i survived#and i wld do anything fr him as we well know . cuffs his jeans puts leaves in his hair <3#jjk may have given me trust issues depression anxiety etc but it Also gave me flowerboy megu and i think that balances it out :)#edit added the bonus here bc reblogs dont show up in the main tags enjoy itfs gross flirting mwah <3
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Micah-10 & Mihaylova
#destiny 2#destiny 2 art#destiny the game#micah 10#mihaylova#i cannot get over bungie just being like 'hey here's the coolest character ever' and we get to hear her voice whenever we want????#me just doing loads of overthrows so i can listen to her speak <3#ANYWAYS hi i love her i'm sorry i don't post here often enough#juggling socmed hard#thank u mads for reminding me to post her here <333#destiny.#i need a better tag for my work lol#9R.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]
Hitting a lil' too close to home?
#junie art post#ink sans#error sans#utmv#errorink#implied. but yea not the focus#this has been turning around in my mind for quite some time. im glad to finish it lmao idk if my ramblings make sense even.#so like listen. do you ever think about how similar the function of the utmv is to the dark worlds in deltarune.#in a meta narrative to fandom sense? idk the word#we are making exaggerated expanded worlds of the ordinary tools and entertainment of the real world and make it into something more#isnt that very very interesting?#and we explore every sort of possibility in that creation. both good and bad#and when all is said and done. every possibility found and the entertainment and secrets has all run out#we put it away. abandon and leave it behind#what is left? what happens to the world and characters we have created? can it sustain without us?#what of the ones left in the dark?#idk if yall saw me a few months ago but i reblogged comyet's old post of ink begging us not to leave him alone and to keep creating#yea that never left me#and seeing exactly THAT SCENARIO in deltarune made my brain iTCH#imagine an ink in King's position.... wait isnt that just underverse#mmmmmmm. darkner ink.....#also error is here too. not just for errorink or that i can't separate these two to save my life#but error is also one of the few people to be able to GET IT?? he can hear the creators too. ink cant#but hes pretty much programmed himself to avoid having a mental break down to this via reboot memory loss.#and ink has his own internal coping mechanism (hooray for short term memory loss)#these two idiots will do anything but confront truths lmfao#ahhh my favorite idiots. never change#mmmmm#deltarune
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
guys. guys. guys. look at me. i beg of you to think about it for one single second. do you really genuinely honestly think that armand. 514 years old never turned a human never made a vampire. would make his first and only fledgling OUT OF SPITE? look at me in the eye. come on. i know you don't genuinely think that
#armand#daniel molloy#devil's minion#interview with the vampire#iwtv#iwtv spoilers#iwtv meta#it's clearly a case of we've been villainizing this character for the whole season and building him to be the Big Bad so it only makes sens#that he did this out of spite or Evil Reasons contextually but as it always is we have yet to tell the whole story and it'll turn#the whole thing on its head when we do. next season. when we show you the scene of the turning. next season. when we give further backgroun#to these characters and their dynamic. next season. tune in for next season. bet you want to tune in now. for next season.#like you don't need to have read the books to know how completely out of character would be for armand to do this out of spite#you just need to have listened to him the various times he talked about making vampires.
1K notes
·
View notes