#AAAAA i've been waiting a good while to post this one!!!

[crescentfool]

my piece for the memories of you zine (@p3-zine)! thank you so much for having me, it was a ton of fun getting to draw my favorite trio~

🛒 leftovers sales are open from now to november 30th! https://p3zine.bigcartel.com/

[writingstoraes]

tour guide 🎥

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!actress!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: saw the post abt apex filming at silverstone this week and got this idea lol lmk what u guys think! atp you already know who my fc is (it's hailee steinfeld 😝)

about: a well-known actress stars in a film that is set in the world of formula 1 and scuderia ferrari happens to be the leading team to guide the production team and its cast!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, madelyncline, and 1,249,247 others

yourusername Film prep starts now. Currently glad my parents forced me into getting my driver's license as early as I could as well as my brother introducing me to Formula 1 years ago 🏁

Beyond excited for this movie!

allhailyn WE LOVE U QUEEN WE CANT WAIT

filmthusiast this is such a new role for her im so excited

f1lover film + f1 is always going to be the biggest bestest combo ❤️

lecsluv LMAOOO NOT CHARLES LIKING THIS

zendayyn mans a fan norrisbaby Oh hes quick 😆

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, pierregasly, and 1,482,2058 others

yourusername 3/4 done with filming for First Gear 🤍 So much work has been done for this movie and it's been the good kind of overwhelming so far. I've learned so much and experienced so many new things.

Included the one and only charles_leclerc here because majority of the things I learned came from him. He's pretty nice except he was beyond nervous when I drove the car for the first time.

scuderiaferrari We're glad to know Charles was the best tour guide ever! ❤️

lecsmmylove NOT FERRARI STICKING WITH THE TOUR GUIDE DESCRIPTION???

hamilfilm charles leclerc making his way into y/n's official ig account is not something i have on my bingo card

popgirltay u guys r so cute <3 friendship goals!

livelovelecs no, dating announcement next LOLOL

charles_leclerc Why do I seem like the bad guy here, I taught you pretty well didn't I?

yourusername I didn't say you were a bad teacher 😕

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, and 1,102,358 others

charles_leclerc Everyday's karting day 🚘

lecsferrari the red nails??? sir u aint slick who is that

sainzmclaren It's Y/N 😭 She posted karting pics today too

yourusername What do you have to say for yourself that you lost?

charles_leclerc I let you win, jolie 😁 Pretty. ferarrimercs HE CALLED HER PRETTY?????

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, kendall, and 1,395,299 others

yourusername The student has become the teacher 😎

charles_leclerc Anyone would win if they were fighting kids on track

yourusername I sense sore loser 😝

leclercsyn TOO CUTE IM GONNA COMBUST

scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, florencepugh, and 2,034,551 others

yourusername Feeling so emotional that filming for a movie that holds a special place in my heart has come to an end 🤍 I am so ecstatic for all of you to see First Gear because everyone involved put everything they had for this film. I hope you guys love this as much as I do, possibly more.

So many people to thank — the directors, producers, scriptwriters, my co-stars, everyone who's worked so hard to make this into reality, I owe you all so much.

But I also never thought I'd meet someone so special. Charles, this past year for us have been so crazy and I'm glad I got to spend it with you. If it helps, the moment they told me you would be giving me a tour of the paddock, I fell instantly 😝

leclercsyn MY PARENTS AAAAA IM SCREAMING

scuderiaferrari We are so proud of you, Y/N ❤️ The whole team is waiting for the movie!

charles_leclerc What do you mean if it helps, I was literally sweating while telling you what a pitwall is

lecslover HES SO FUNNYHTBHRHB

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, ynleclercs16, pierregasly, and 1,673,992 others

charles_leclerc Most talented person I've come across. Watching you on set has become one of my favorite things to do; it reminds me of just how amazing you are. To more karting sessions with you ❤️

Sincerely,

Your paddock tour guide

lecshamilton hes owning the tour guide title, mad respect

sainzlove I AM MELTINGGGGG

f1luvr power couple me thinks?

yourusername Get ready to lose 🥱

--------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: why i take so much time making these ill never understand anyway i hope u guys like this hehehe thank you sm for reading <3

[nipuni]

Hello! Time for another blog post! I think my last one was two months ago and a lot has happened since 😊

We have been attending a ton of historical recreation events so I still have many photos to share, hope you don't hate those! It's been really fun! We are exhausted and all out of social battery however so we are taking it easy this month. Another thing that's been happening a lot is that even when we are not dressed in historical clothing we keep getting stopped by strangers on the street because of our everyday outfits, it's been like that for a couple of years now so we are no longer startled or nervous about it but it's happening more and more often now and it's so nice! we always end up chatting about the events we go to and our jobs and hobbies and exchanging contacts or they ask for photos and stuff! people are really kind and excited about it and I still find it so surprising in the best way. We grew up in a very hostile city and environment and that makes you paranoid and cynical so these interactions and response has been healing really. I know their words will stick with us for years to come 😭 Sadly the unbearable heat is starting though so that means our outings for the next three months will be limited to the crack of dawn and after sunset 😞 but at least the summer brings a lot of fruit with it so we can sit at home and eat pineapples and strawberries while we wait for autumn.

My family came to visit a few months ago too and we made them watch most of Doctor Who's season one to four and some of our favourite episodes from all the other seasons lmao. And much to our delight they really enjoyed it!! They both loved Ten the most and my step dad is now in love with Martha 🥰

We have also been watching the current season and it's been so fun keeping up with fandom theories in real time and talking about it and speculating with friends in person, it's the first time we get a chance to do it since we got into the series and we are enjoying it a lot!

We also watched season one of Jessica Jones and we loved David's performance as Kilgrave!! He stole the show for real. Kilgrave is such an incredible villain, one of the best I've seen and DT does such an amazing job portraying every aspect of him. He's detestable and volatile and frighteningly powerful and has such an intimidating terrifying presence in the narrative while also being pathetic and vulnerable and ridiculous and childish and so human with all it's worrying implications. It was just so gripping and I wish he had stayed for the rest of the show honestly!! Now we have to pick our next David Tennant series to watch! 😊

Also!! Dragon Age is back!! AHHH I wanted to thank everyone that commented on my last DA pieces, it has made my month to read the comments, I didn't expect so many people to remember my art or my character after so many years and it's so touching and flattering you have no idea 😭💘 I look forward to making more and sharing them with you all, I'm truly grateful for the kindness you've shown me both back then and now I hope you know.

I feel so spoiled lately with all these franchises that I love releasing new content!! I've never been in these many fandoms at once!! I have so many ideas to draw and keep jumping back and forth between drawings from different shows and games AAAAA it's a good and welcome change honestly, keeps me busy and inspired!

Anyway that's all for now I think! I hope you are doing well and this summer/winter is kind to you all ❤️

[yandere--stuck]

nosramus's relationship headcanons, maybe? 🫶 idk if you write for them, but if not, ok!!

but speaking sincerely with all my heart; i've been following your blog for a while, and i'll tell you-- i sincerely love your writing, like really - very really !! i giggle and do 10 spins in my room when you post about my favorite characters (or characters i don't even know, 🤭🤭) maybe that sounds not honest ((i don't even know)), but i really mean it.

AND

hope you have a good night/or day (or whatever time is) !!!!!!!!!!

Thank you so so much!!! That's so sweet of you to say and I'm so glad you enjoy my works aaaaa ;w; it means a lot!!

I hope you have a great day/night yourself and that these are good <3

---

🤍 Immortality is both a blessing and a curse, Nosramus has found. Though she finds enjoyment and purpose in her studies and in the mundanity of life, even within the dungeons of Fear and Hunger, this has also led her to a life of loneliness. Many days spent with only herself for company. Her guard is there, of course, but he's not really much for company. It's even manageable most days. But the longer the future stretches out in front of her, the more the chasm in her heart where others had once touched deepens and darkens further.

💛 Such isolation gives her cause to look into different areas of study - such as The Soul. Everyone is born under a specific Soul type that will shape who they are and how their life will play out. Less understood, however, is that concept of a Soul Mate. The idea of one Soul bearer having one (or more) Souls that are naturally attracted or drawn toward one particular Soul type or even particular individual that bears a particular Soul type that seems to inherently click with another's. Once, she had thought she found them. But, she was wrong. She was betrayed and forgotten. In the end, they were the worse for it and Nosramus, in the grand scheme of things, was far better off. Still, she was left scarred by deception. To be alone was better than being hurt again in such a way. It was better for a long, long time. But now, the darkness and isolation of the catacombs have become almost too much to bear. She can feel her Soul call out for the touch of another.

🤍 Brave adventurer, what is it you seek? Her, perhaps unknowingly…? Why else could Nosramus feel you within the halls? Your footfalls echoing through her head, the brightness of your spirit felt pulsing in her own Soul. A feel of giddiness makes her entire body shake. She can't concentrate on her studies. She can't even hold a cup of tea steady without shaking. She sees flashes of you in her enlightened mind's eye. So desperate is Nosramus to see you in the flesh. Is this what it feels like to meet your one and only? A part of Sylvian's design perhaps. The anticipation and impending doom of meeting who you are meant to be one with. Nosramus can't help to distract herself much longer, nearly running from her laboratory as she feels you enter the mines.

💛 Don't be afraid. She can see you from the shadows. She will wait as long as you need to step into the light and see her. Nosramus tries to keep her smile from widening too greatly. She introduces herself. Tries to ignore the burning sensation in her very being. Extends a hand out to you and tells you the kettles on. Care for a cup of tea? She smiles even as you hesitate. Of course you're hesitant, poor thing. All alone in such a place without her. How did you ever survive? When your hand slips into hers, Nosramus is nearly set ablaze from the inside-out. Oh, yes, she thinks she'll keep you.

🤍 As a show of good faith, Nosramus offers you to partake in her potions and peruse her tomes. Not like you'll be leaving with them. The home she's made feels so much more alive with you inside it. Like you were always meant to be here. Your voice is music to her ears. She implores you - why are you here, where are you from, who have you left behind, what do you love, what do you despise, what are your dreams and wishes. She sprawls down notes when she gets a moment between preparing your tea. Just the beginning of her study of you. When she sets your cup in front of you, she makes a show of giving her own a hearty sip. And by the time you've realized what's happened, you can barely keep your head up. Poor dear. 

💛 You must understand. Or, you will understand, eventually. Nosramus has been burned before. She wants to trust you, but can't quite yet. But, it's okay, pet. She will take care of you while you learn how much your meant to be. She can hardly be near you without touching you - holding your hand, stroking the top of your head, pressing soft kisses across your face. When she must rip herself away from you, her guard will watch over you. One day, you'll be free to be lucid when kept in her quarters, but not yet. She must show you that your Souls are meant to be one. She cannot wait for the day that Sylvian blesses your union and you finally do become One.

[manicplank]

The Color Pink (Part 15)

Aaaaa sorry this took so long. This piece has been written for a while so I decided to post it since I've been too busy to write more. Sorry if it sucks.

Theodore awoke in the morning to see that his room was spotless. All the laundry was put away, and his army of half empty water bottles was gone. He tried to sit up, but it was too painful. He never picked up his painkillers from the pharmacy, so he had no means of relief. He groaned as his shoulder throbbed. Hazel appeared in the doorway almost instantly. “Theo,” she spoke calmly even though she was very worried. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he mumbled. “I can’t get up. It hurts too much.”

“Oh, okay, um…” She walked over to him in a hurry. She took the pillows out from underneath his right side. He winced in pain. “Sorry!” She was a little unsure of what to do. She went over to his other side and placed her hands underneath his neck and back. She slowly pulled up, but this only rolled him over. He cried out in pain again. She began to stress. She went to the foot of the bed. “Give me your hand.” She reached out and grabbed his left hand. “I’m gonna pull you up, and you’re gonna try and sit up at the same time, okay?”

“Mhm…”

“Okay, on three. One… Two… Three!” She strained as she pulled him up. He winced again, but he was sitting upward, so their mission was accomplished. She went over to him and held his face. “You okay?”

“No. I’m in pain.”

“Um… Okay, uh… I don’t know what to do.”

“They sent a script for painkillers over to the pharmacy. They should be ready by now. We need to go pick them up.”

“Oh, right! Good idea. Do you need help getting dressed?”

“No. I’ll just go like this.” He was dressed in sweatpants and an NTV t-shirt.

Hazel put her hands on her hips. “Really? Just like that?”

“Dude, I’m in too much pain to give a shit right now. I’m not walking down a red carpet. I was gonna send you to get them, anyways.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. I was gonna wait here… Is that okay?”

“Isn’t your wallet still on set?”

“Shit, that’s right. Fuck, okay, um…” He sighed, “Ugh, I guess I’ll have to go with.”

“Plus, I need to pack a bag with some clothes. I’m going to stay here for a couple days to help you out.”

“Hazel, you don’t have to-”

She repeated herself in a firmer, more assertive tone, “I am going to stay here for a couple of days to help you out.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

“You don’t have to pity me, Theodore. I’m helping you because you need it. I’m helping you because I want to.” She went up to him and gently cupped his face in her hands. “Okay?”

He smiled. “Okay.”

She gave him a gentle peck on the lips. “You sure you don’t want to put any better pants on?”

“I’m sure. I’m comfortable.”

“Okay,” she rolled her eyes playfully, “whatever you say.” She stuck her hand out. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

As she helped him to his feet, there was a knock at the door. He sighed, “Stay here, I’ll get it.” He dragged his feet as he walked. The entire right side of his body was stiff and sore. An ache radiated through his body with each step. The door knocked again. “SHUT UP!” He screamed in frustration as he walked up to the door. He opened it up; it was Dougie.

Theodore inhaled deeply and huffed with frustration. “What do you want?”

“Hi, boss. I have your keys and your wallet.” Dougie handed them to him.

“Oh… Cool… Thanks…”

“The set manager wants you to call him.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “What does he want?”

“He wants to know how you’re doing. We all do.”

“I’m in pain. Shout it through a megaphone and make sure everybody hears.”

“Yeah, but-”

Theo slammed the door in Dougie’s face. Hazel had come down the stairs to see that Noise had his wallet and keys in hand.

“Who was that?” She asked.

“It was Dougie. He dropped off my stuff.”

“Oh, okay, good. That’s one less stop we have to make.”

“Yep. Let’s go, I’m in a lot of pain and I want to go back to bed.”

Theo waddled behind Hazel as they headed out.

-

After everything was said and done, Theodore was completely exhausted. He had dozed off on the way back. He picked his head up once the car stopped. Hazel helped him up and out of his seat. She grabbed his hips from behind and guided him to the door.

“I’m not drunk,” he said, “you don’t have to lead me.”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You don’t have to baby me.”

“Shush. Let’s just get you inside so you can take a painkiller and go to bed. You need all the rest you can get.”

Theodore rolled his eyes and walked up to the door. Hazel unlocked and opened it for him. He dragged his feet as he walked in, holding the door for her to walk in behind him. He plopped onto the couch and kicked his legs up. His body was too tired to move anymore. Hazel hurriedly grabbed a water bottle from the kitchen and gave him the painkiller. He swallowed it without hesitation. She twiddled her fingers together as he laid his head down.

“Do you want me to take you up to your room?” She asked.

“Mmph,” he mumbled. “No. I’ll stay down here. That way if I need anything, I can just get it myself. I won’t have to go up and down the stairs a million times.”

“Hmm… Oh! Hold on, stay here.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere anyways.”

She rushed up to his room and grabbed a pillow as well as his fuzzy pink “blankie”. She came back down to see him already dozing off. “Here,” she tucked the pillow under his head and spread the blanket across him. She gave him a kiss on the forehead and he smiled. “Will you be okay if I leave?”

“You’re leaving?” He whined.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, but I have to go home eventually.”

He chuckled softly. “I’m just teasing you.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. She ran her fingers through his hair. “I’ll be back. I have to pack some clothes and such.”

“Okay.”

“Call me if you need me, okay?”

“Okay.”

She cuffed his cheek and pecked him on the lips as goodbye.

-

She had to go through The Slum as she headed home. While she did, she was stopped by someone calling to her. She turned around to see The Vigilante running up to her as fast as possible. He looked incredibly disheveled as if he had seen the devil. “Hazel,” he shouted in a huff. “Hazel, you’re alive!” He stopped hard enough to leave skid marks from his boots. He huffed and puffed as he tried to catch his breath.

“Oh, hi Vigi,” she greeted.

“Where…” He sighed. “Where have you been?! Is everything okay?!”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I haven’t seen you in a couple days, and your cafe has been closed. I was worried sick!”

“Sorry. I should’ve left a note on the door or something. I ended up closing early once I was done with the NTV order the other day. Something came up.”

“What happened?”

“Well, um… I don’t think it’s any of your business, but… The Noise got injured at work. He needs some help taking care of himself.”

The Vigilante rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, big celebrity man can’t take care of himself.”

“No, seriously! His shoulder is all messed up. It’s his right shoulder, and he’s right handed. He can’t do much.”

The Vigilante still looked doubtful. “Well,” he sighed disgruntledly. “I suppose your cafe will be closed for a while…”

“Hm… I never thought about that. That’s going to be an issue… I’m already a little behind on my rent.”

“Yeah, well, you know how Pizzaface is about money.”

Her shoulders tensed up as she imagined the giant floating pizza being angry at her. He was quite intimidating naturally. She didn’t want to know what he was like when he was angry. Closing the cafe to take care of The Noise was going to cost her in the long run, but he had no one else to depend on. She chewed on the tips of her fingers nervously. How was she going to make this work? She was worried about Theodore, but she was also worried about losing her career. Regardless, she wanted to take care of him. The Vigilante was snapping in her face as she came to.

“Hazel? You okay?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment.” She chuckled nervously.

“You look like a deer in headlights.”

“I’m fine. I have to go.” She turned around and rushed off.

“Hazel, wait-” The Vigilante tried to catch her attention again, but she was already gone.

-

Once she got home, she was stuck. She was torn between taking care of The Noise or taking care of her cafe. She shook her head and went into her room to start packing clothes and accessories. She figured she would take care of him for one more night as she thought about how she could work things out. She tried to keep it out of her mind. She wanted to get back to Noise as soon as possible. Knowing him, she was afraid he might do something stupid. Once she was all packed up, she hustled back over to The Noise’s. She couldn’t shake off her anxiety, and she wanted to get there as soon as possible so she could talk to him about it.

-

Hazel used the spare key to go through the backdoor of Theodore’s home. She walked into the living room to see him still zonked out on the couch. Those painkillers knocked him out, she thought. She slowly walked up to him and gently nudged his arm. “Theo?” He was out cold. For a moment, she feared that he was dead, even though she knew how irrational that thought was. She nudged him a little harder. His eyes slowly peeled open.

“Oh,” he muttered, “you’re back.”

“Yeah, hey, um…” She spoke frantically.

He let out a groan as he stretched then picked his head up. “Are you okay? You seem… upset.”

“Yeah. I mean, no. Well, kind of.”

He slowly sat up on his own. “Come here, sit.”

Hazel sat on the couch and twiddled with her thumbs. “So, um… I have to talk to you about something.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh… So… I gave it some thought and-”

Theodore’s heart sank. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen. He was worried she had gotten overwhelmed and was going to leave him.

“- I’m not quite sure I’ll be able to take care of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t take care of you and run the cafe at the same time.”

He shrugged. His worry suddenly faded. “Then take care of the cafe.”

“But you can’t take care of yourself.”

“Right…”

They sat in silence for a moment. Hazel felt insanely guilty.

“Hey,” Theo broke the silence, “I have an idea.”

“Hm?” Hazel looked at him with an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“What if, and hear me out here,” he put his free hand on her shoulder. “What if I took care of you, too?”

“What… What are you talking about?”

“What if I helped you out financially while you help me? Like, what if I paid you for taking care of me?”

“What?! Theodore, no! I’d feel so guilty!”

“Please. Let me help you.”

They made eye contact for a moment. Hazel took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Theo smiled and gave her a quick smooch. “Relax. We can make this work. Everything will be okay. Anything you need, I will take care of. Okay?”

“Okay.” Hazel’s eyes were glazed over with tears. She wasn’t expecting him to react in such a way.

“You look like you’re going to cry.”

Hazel’s lower lip quivered as she nodded.

“No,” he pulled her in for a gentle hug. He wrapped his left arm around her as tight as he could. “No tears.” He kissed her cheek as she whined and shed a few tears into his chest. She sat up and wiped her tears away with her sleeve.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’m just stressed.”

“I know. It’s okay. You can stay here as long as you need to.”

“Okay. I mean, I’ll have to grab more clothes and things. I only packed enough for a couple days.”

“That’s fine. Everything’s fine, okay? Stop worrying.”

“Okay.”

[blackhairedjjun]

BHJ😵‍💫 I'm not okay... I'm especially wooed with everyone like this concept- everyone aced it and I'm especially going through some problems.. like one moment it's Jun, the next it's Bin. Bin, the next is Gyu. Gyu, then next it's tyun. Tyun, then next it's Kai. Kai, then next it's Jun again. This is cycling. I can't—

Also, the under-eye Shadow of Gyu?? I'm so whipped and done—

Don't you think Jun is giving vibes of a whipped (Slight Yanderish/not) punk who's obsessed with Sweetheart you? Like in a college Au, the music and dance obsessed boy— unapproachable and slight bad boy... who hasn't yet confessed to you but is possessive over you? Yeah imagine him now singing a song for you in a college event😵‍💫 you know that's you because you, of course warned him to not meddle but obsessed poor guy.. can't help.. and You, of course! In no stance to reject his adoration and obsession with you. Waiting for him to claim you? Yes! That's it. The right moment has approached today. I'm sing this for the love of my life, he announces. Sings a perfect song suitable for him and you.

Accept me, claim me, have me!

He lastly says. Before he could depress down the stage... enamored you run onto the stage (thanks to the encouragement of people) and grab him by his collars and Kiss him passionately right there... YES! You claimed him officially.

Accepted, claimed and will have you, Yeonjun!

This started a good era in your life with your obsessed punk!

Hehe not delusional me just typing this down--

🦋!

butterfly anon they ALL look amazing 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 speaking of beomgyu have you SEEN his instagram posts?? he somehow looks even better aaaaa

OH MY rockstar!yeonjun is so.... wow slkfkdslfj admittedly i'm not the biggest yandere enthusiast but whipped yeonjun who is so down bad and also in a band?? maybe you've met a few times at parties or at the bar when his band is performing and always the two of you are drawn to each other, talking and flirting. your gazes linger from across the room, itching to be near each other, and when his band performs on stage his eyes always find yours no matter where you are in the crowd.

when your eyes meet, it all melts away - the crowd, the bar, everything, it's just you and him.

and while everyone tells you that it's a bad idea to go with a guy like him, you can't help it - the way he looks at you and flirts with you makes you feel like you're the only shining person in the world in his eyes. deep down you yearn to be his...

little do you know you're his muse and he's definitely spent hours and hours trying to write the perfect song about you. and when he finally performs his perfect song he never takes his gaze off you, pouring all his emotions into his voice -- he, too, yearns to be yours.

and when he staggers off the stage you run to him, your lips crashing against his, his arms finding your waist to pull you flush against him.

i've always been yours, and you've always been mine.

okay but why did i feel my stomach doing flips writing this lklsdflsdjkf

[stellamancer]

So, typically I have two kinds of comments: comments I make at the end and play by play comments that I make while I read with a sum up at the end and I fully intended to do the latter while reading this, but to be honest, your writing here, Sel, was so beautiful, so captivating that I actually forced myself to stop so I could write things before I forget them.

The beach scene was just! So cute! And Gojo!!! He is so in love, like so enamored, so!!! It's so sweet and endearing with that first love kind of feel when everything is just... nice.

About the photo, I remember you shared part of this, but it was truncated to avoid spoilers and like. This is the point where I had to stop a bit because I felt a bit like crying. The nostalgia was too much!! Thinking about memories that are captured in a photo— eternal, yet lost to time. Haibara gone. Suguru gone. Nanami gone, and still they live on both in that picture and in Reader and Gojo's memories and... It's sad. Not just because of the circumstances of it, the situation of, but also because it's relatable, I think— people come and go in life but the memories of them remain.

The line about Gojo not believing in coincidences reminds me a lot about a line I like from xxxHOLiC— 'there is no such thing as coincidences, there is only inevitability' and I feel like this line very much applies to COL Gojo and Reader LMAO.

Okay. The thought of Yuji whisking Reader away is actually kind of cute. He's so precious. And Gojo's 'you're mine.' Um. Well. Yes. Duh. LMAO, but still also. 😳😳😳😳

CONSUMMATE!?!?! 😳😳😳😳😳😳

THE FIGHT. That I had been wondering about!! You know, I really love how your Gojo is so... The way his characterization over COL has really peeled back all his layers and so we have not only an exposed Gojo but a vulnerable and insecure one and the way we've gotten to it is just so natural and like... 'of course he's like that, of course he is.'

This is a bit of an aside but, I was thinking about that one post a while back about songs and your faves and like... This isn't the first time I've thought it for COL either but the vocaloid song Kokoronashi reminds me of COL a lot (this cover specifically).

HE SAID IT OMG HE SAID IT. SOUND THE ALARMS GET A THE POPPERS BECAUSE MY MAN FINALLY SAID IT!!! And.... aaaaa!!!! It was!!! So cute!!! I'm so!!!! Hee hee hee!! Kicking my feet!! All smiles!!! Like it's so obvious, but there really is something different about saying it, about putting the words to it. These two have been so in love with each other all along without really needing the words to say it but!!! AAAAAA.

....oh my god they consummated after all. It was eluded too, as non explicit as it gets but still I'm like wew. Sometimes less is more and... that was enough for a very vivid picture omg.

ANYWAY AAAAAAAAAAAA SEL!!!!!!! IT WAS SO!!!! SO WONDERFUL!!! THE END!!! ADORABLE!!! CUTE!!! PERFECT!!!! The call back!?!?! Chef's kiss!! Truly!!!

COL Reader is really... just an angel, wholly and truly. So sweet, so accepting.... truly an angel who came from the heavens just for Gojo. And I know we shouldn't play the comparison game but I do think about them in comparison to the Reader I generally write for Gojo who bites and hisses at him. It's just so funny to me LMAO.

Back on topic, this really was worth every moment, every second waited and, I really don't have enough words, or even the right ones to really convey how good this was. Like. I just. I'm trying LMAOOOOOO. But I got nothing. I'm speechless— in the good way.

Oh. Yes. There was one line I really liked— mobile won't let me copy pasta but.

I love it so much omg.

₊˚⊹。so this is what it means to be in love | gojo satoru

wc: 8.9k summary: gojo finds out what it really means to be in love.  contains: f!reader in mind, friends to lovers (prev. slowburn), suggestive scenes, might be mildly explicit? (i only mention ‘butt’ once though…), ‘being in love’ as a journey, almost like a falls in love first (you) vs. falls in love harder (gojo), they fight, they swear, character death/s mentioned, shibuya onwards spoilers, lots and lots and lots of love a/n: this is better read after the other parts in the collection but can work as a stand alone too!, there’s a jump between this and tell me about love (show me how) so gojo would have developed a lot in the relationship since then!  part iii of conversations on love: i | ii | iii

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

Gojo catches onto love slowly.

He takes the hand you leave open just for him, and closes the space between your palms, reducing infinity. 

Maybe he’s felt it all this time without knowing; after all, love looks a lot less profound as friends in your early 20’s. 

But being in it—being in love? That’s uncharted territory. 

Gojo’s been to a lot of places, has travelled back and forth from point-to-point endlessly. He’s survived battles, a war, near-death, and cursed spirits reincarnate; even then, he’s got eyes—two bright blue and an extra four hidden, ones that see beyond human comprehension. Unearthing this simple truth shouldn’t shake him, shouldn’t even faze him. If anything, he should have seen it coming—

Except he doesn’t. 

It sneaks up on him, bit by bit, until he finds that being in love means getting to experience you all over again, just differently.

.

.

.

It starts with the little things. 

Gojo has known you for so long (a decade and a few years more), but has only recently begun to notice everything: how your baby hairs stick out in the humidity of summer, the way you purse your lips in thought before finally deciding on a drink to order. You play with your fingernails subconsciously, out of habit, the soft taps on your nail beds an accompaniment of anxiety-ridden conversations you’ve had since you were 23. 

He knows you always blink twice before focusing on him, and it’s a mystery whether this is a recent development or something he’s just never noticed, but if you’re trying to enchant him by the flutter of your eyelashes, he wants to let you know that it’s working—except, he knows that you aren’t, because you’re just like that: a daydream without even trying. 

These aren’t new things; he’s sure he’s probably encountered them all before, but lately they’ve evolved into cute things, and there’s no hiding the slight curve of his lips every time he spots them. 

.

The sun is beaming brighter this summer, the ocean a faraway blur from the beach towel set-up you made under the shade. Going to the beach is never your go-to when you think of an extremely hot afternoon, but Yuuji’s been eyeing a weekend getaway since sorcerer work’s lessened significantly. 

‘It’s a good effort,’ Gojo convinces you, ‘to get everyone together again.’

And it is—you see it now: Yuuji and Megumi preparing to fling Yuuta into the water while Nobara and Maki race along the shoreline. Toge stays close to Panda but he watches fondly, eyes crinkling every now and then, happy. 

When you blink, the image of them softens—a captured memory in the heat haze. 

The only older ones here are you and Gojo; Shoko’s always disliked the stickiness of sunblock on her skin, and Ijichi’s new position has made him constantly busy. Somewhere in the distance, you can maybe envision Nanami. He wouldn’t come if you or Gojo asked, but if it were Yuuji—

You rub at your eye, resting your chin on your hand as you will your tear ducts to please, don’t cry. 

Yuuji's been smiling a lot more lately, an observation you note from the way his ears are perked up every time you look his way. It’ll never be the same as it used to be but it’s relieving to know that he can exist living as himself now. Just Yuuji. 

You hug your knees tighter to your chest, wrapping your arms around it. Your place under the coconut tree provides ample enough shade but your back still burns from Gojo haphazardly slathering sunscreen on it after hearing an ice cream stand from miles away. 

The mind is a weird place to be at times like this—split into bittersweet reminiscing and telling yourself to just take this moment and breathe, to live in it. You think about Megumi, and how you hurt for him, always will, for all that he’s lost despite every attempt to avoid it.

You should have been there for Tsumiki, you could have been there for both of them. 

Your guilt never leaves you even on days that shine as vividly as this, but perhaps that’s the silver lining—that they’re still with you, always. You can carry pieces of them to these places, and scatter them to the wind, to the sand, to the sea, and maybe to the ice cream stand Gojo’s waiting in line of, surrounded entirely by kids. They all rise to half his size, but if you squint, you think the bounce in his step makes him blend right in. 

A chuckle escapes you. 

You could sort through your memories and land on one where he looks just like this—freakishly large limbs towering over a tiny, excited Tsumiki. Back then, an ice cream stop after school consisted of your pseudo-family of four, with Megumi on your hand and Tsumiki on his leg, both gripping tightly to combat a chilly 10°C.

Things are different now, evidently. Megumi’s outgrown it, and Tsumiki is no longer here. But Gojo has stayed the same, and it’s comforting to know that he will continue to be this Satoru, your Satoru, even when some things are gone. 

You don’t realize you’re spacing out until he waves the ice cream cone while walking towards you.  

Gojo is a sight in trunks the color of his eyes, with seahorses and starfishes in an alternating pattern of peachy-pink against cerulean blue. 

You could have sworn you asked for your own cone, but he plops down beside you holding only one. For the both of you. The side-eye you give him is almost criminal, if not deadly, but your lips twitch from the smile you’re hiding (terribly). 

He raises an eyebrow and you break character, shaking your head while laughing. 

“Did you eat the other one on the way here?” you tease, craning your neck to lick at the bottom scoop (vanilla-strawberry-vanilla, gojo’s signature order). 

Your tongue lands dangerously close to his fingers, and he feels it, but his eyes only land on you—your lips, how they part for your tongue to glide smoothly on his–both of your–dessert. You look every bit of an angel in the soft, pale hues of your bikini, but Gojo’s thoughts are anything but saintly. 

He blushes furiously, the tips of his ears and nose bright red as he turns away from you quickly. 

“I’m fulfilling your dream of sharing an ice cream cone with me.” he tilts his chin up, proud, smirking slightly. He jokes about it knowing full well that this is his dream come true, just by the look of you. 

You stay quiet, rolling your eyes but never meanly, no. You only ever do it fondly—he knows, being on the receiving end of it one too many times. 

The beach towel scrunches when you scoot closer, looping your arm around his as you both rest your elbows on your knees. Gojo holds the cone between you two, tipping it towards you when it’s your turn to nip and lick. 

He shouldn’t stare, shouldn’t hyperfixate, but it’s so cute how you get the tiniest bit of ice cream on the tip of your nose—as if it belongs there, soft and sweet just like the rest of you. 

You look up to find Gojo gazing at you, eyes glimmering like the reflection of sunlight on the ocean, and a tiny smile that only widens when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, scrunching your nose in an effort to stop yourself from grinning. 

When Gojo looks at you this way, as if you are his favorite place rediscovered, your heart thumps furiously against your ribcage. 

“What…” you drawl, your smile impossible to hide in the lilt of your voice. 

Gojo thinks he can count every eyelash, every speck of sand dotting your face, and stil not be bored of you. He can’t stop beaming. 

Is this what it means to be in love with you? 

“Nothing.” he replies, almost giggling, a little bashful but with every inch of sincerity. You know that smile, the only one that holds every ounce of Satoru. Gojo smiles big and wide to everyone else, but this small one you know, is reserved just for you. 

He leans in, lips coming closer to brush against the tip of your nose. Your eyes fall shut, instinctively, and the pink dot is wiped clean, a hint of strawberry dancing on his palette. He’s done this more times than he can count, has already been this near to know that close will never be close enough, but you still jolt a bit—PDA has never been your thing. 

When he pulls away, you continue to stare at each other, locked in a gaze until the ice cream begins to drip down his fingers and onto the beach towel. It misses his trunks by a hair and you both laugh at how he belatedly tries to escape it even though it’s already there. 

It’s indescribable, this moment, seeing you in slow motion, laughing as bright as the sun—the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. It takes every bit of him to look away so he can wipe his hands clean from the dripping dessert.

You hand him a packet of wet wipes and beckon him to sit in front of you after. Squeezed onto the palm of your hand is a copious amount of sunscreen you plan to slather all over him. A touch-up, if you will. 

Gojo has sensitive skin, pale as bond paper and burns just as quickly. The high points of his face are already reddening, warm to the touch when you dab at them with sunscreen. 

You’re so near, so close, sitting cross-legged in front of him with your knees touching his. The tip of your tongue sticks out just slightly as you focus on his skin. 

Even though he knows, he still wonders what your lips would taste like, SPF chapstick and crumbly bits from the wafer cone. He wonders what your eyelashes would feel like, fluttering over his own. 

The light casts a halo around you and he thinks it’s fitting for all that you do. You pamper him like this, slather love all over his chest and back, massage it in so it dissolves into him—and he feels it so deep that he tastes it.

How can your love be so sweet? He thinks, sighing as your fingers work sunscreen up his neck from his collarbone. You always apply his skincare upwards, something about keeping his baby face even when he’s old. 

“You should join them,” you mumble, rubbing more product onto the nape of his neck. You’re leaning over his shoulder, neck brushed against his cheek. 

Gojo hums, watching everyone from a distance. It’s been a while since he’s had a day like this. 

“But maybe after 30 minutes, so the sunblock doesn’t wash off. You’re already burning.” you note, coming back to sit. 

Of course, he’s already burning. How can he not when the sun is right in front of him? 

.

You join everyone for a game of beach volleyball in the sunset of the afternoon. You’re transported back to high school, the last time you did this—you and Satoru against Shoko and Suguru, with Haibara keeping score. 

From the way Gojo’s eyes are glossed over, you can tell he’s thinking about it too, the memory having seared itself into your brains forever, it seems. 

Being paired together should feel familiar—the same, but it doesn’t—isn’t, because Gojo can’t concentrate, sneaking glances to notice all the little things about you that he never used to. Your skin shines from the combination of sweat and sunscreen, and when you crash into him it’s both sticky and slippery. He should really ask for a time-out before you blind him completely. 

You look unfairly good in your bikini, too good he can barely hear you calling for him; between the ocean and his blood rushing, any other sound is drowned out into nothing. 

Maki and Yuuji absolutely demolish the both of you, reaching 15 first in the final set. Gojo blames the loss on you of course, even though he’s missed every pass you’ve sent his way and netted 60% of his spikes. 

And maybe it technically is your fault—you and your (very distracting) little things. But it’s entirely on him that he’s fallen for it, fallen for you as much as this. 

.

.

.

Gojo thinks of love differently when he sees a picture of himself and all it does is remind him of you.

There’s a photo tucked safely in his wallet (saved and set as his homescreen too). Shoko snorts when she walks in on him printing it, all six-foot-three of him hunched over the small inkjet printer in the faculty room. 

“It’s all digital now, Satoru,” she scoffs, taking a puff on her cigarette. 

Gojo doesn’t say anything even though he knows it’s true, too focused on watching the printer push out the two-by-three inch image he’s about to cut into. 

Print photos aren’t as important anymore when cloud storage spaces are just as–if not more–accessible, but Gojo is admittedly sentimental despite every front he puts up to hide it. 

He’s kept every single gift you’ve given him and camouflaged it as decoration in his office, and the family drawing 10-year-old Tsumiki made is still folded between the pages of a self-help book Yaga had given him when he first decided to teach. 

When every moment is experienced so vividly, seen through a muddle of infinite energies, there are those he wishes could stay still—ones that take up space to remind him: ‘this is real, it happened, and here is proof that it did’. 

He already has one of all of you, fresh-faced and barely pushing the peaks of youth at 16. A tangle of arms wrapped around each other—one of his gripping tightly on Suguru, and the other hanging loosely over you. Utahime is crouched in front, holding the hand you’ve placed on her shoulder while pulling Shoko into a semi-squish-semi-hug (because out of the four of you, Shoko is her favorite—completely valid; if given the choice, she’d be your favorite too). Nanami and Haibara stay close to Suguru, squatting low to balance the photo, and Haibara is smiling, the ever cheery grin Suguru loves to dote on, while Nanami is Nanami—sharp features and a serious gaze that you all know he’ll grow into someday, handsome with age. 

For the longest time, Gojo has kept that photo hidden, locked away in the drawer of his bedside table as if keeping it there means the memory will stay guarded forever—untouched, unspoiled, unruined. 

It would have stayed there if you didn’t stumble upon it while looking for his painkillers during another one of his skull-crushing migraines. 

You approach him with the image hesitantly, eyes damp and glossy. Years have faded the colors ever so slightly, but the corners remain crisp from being stowed away neatly. You say sorry, that you shouldn’t have looked through his things, but you remember the moment it was taken so fondly: a visit to the Kyoto campus on a one-day break to train with other students. 

Gojo has many theories about time and the multitude of spaces it takes—like how a person can exist at different points in time, disparate at each instance, and still take up the same big chunk of space. The opposite can be true too, that someone can live finitely (just once) and occupy spaces in every place you look: the face of a passerby down the road, a sign at the corner of the street, or even a photograph that immortalizes people you once knew. 

He only shares when you ask, aware that he tends to be a bit of a nerd about it whenever it’s brought up, but you don't mind. You like listening to it all, no matter how insightful or confusing they are for you to make sense—a version of him not many get to witness. His explanations are comprehensible for the most part, except—

When Gojo tells you that he’s kept the image in his drawer, hidden, because exposing it to the space-time that exists now will erase every reminder that it ever happened, you hug him tightly. 

Your sniffles are heard from the way his head is tucked into the crook of your neck, your fingers gripping strands of his hair in empathy. 

He considers your near-tears as a sign that the memory is long gone, decayed into the brittling tragedy of reality. But you smile, the corners of your lips bittersweet as you express disbelief that he’s kept it all this time. 

You tell him delicately that some precious things are meant to be celebrated, put out to be remembered—to be experienced. 

And it becomes clearer to him then, by the look in your eyes and remembrance soft-spoken, that what good is a photo unseen? 

What good is a love unwitnessed?

When you gift him a frame a year after finding the photo, he hangs it by the wall next to his office door. The image is painful to look at, always has been (even when it was hidden in his drawer)—during Suguru’s defection, and death anniversaries especially. 

The recent one for Nanami was heavy; the first time he’s ever been able to process grief fully. 

Gojo can argue that it grows more difficult every time he catches a glimpse of it from his desk, but you have a way of honoring pain that doesn’t make it sting as bad—that turns it into a reminder of a love that was once there, of feelings that hurt as evidence that someone cared. 

Now, he wants another photo printed, one of just the two of you. Not because it hurts, but because he wants this precious thing to be remembered and seen—for this love to be witnessed too. 

It’s self-timered, snapped under the shade of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. The picture is far from perfect: your eyes bright and mouth open mid-fear of his phone falling off the bridge railing. 

You may look a teensy bit funny, but Gojo will always find it cute. Anyone can see it, at how he looks at you in that moment—like you are every bit worthy of the distance travelled and seasons waited. He gazes at you fondly, eyes holding clear skies and pink lips curling into a small smile. 

It’s cheesy, but if you ask him what he thinks about this year’s flowers, he’ll tell you none of them (not even any of them combined) could compare to you. The cherry blossoms could be gone and he’d still see them everywhere (in the softness of your lips, the fullness of your cheeks, the radiance you emit when you are truly, solely content and happy). 

He remembers that afternoon well: the spring breeze that jolts his phone sideways, his hand resting on your lower back, unseen in the image. There’s no real reason for visiting the blossoms on this day of all days, but Gojo doesn’t believe in coincidences, and he’s counted down exactly to a year since you both had your first kiss.

It’s so silly, because he’s never thought of things like this before. He knows you probably don’t think much of it either considering that neither of you have made anything official yet since. 

And he feels a little stupid for that, honestly. 

You’ve been sleeping at each other’s places more often than not, and even though you go on these little trips that are so obviously dates, you both still just tell everyone you’re ‘hanging out’.

He’s not fooling anyone here, not when he looks at you then with the feeling of his chest expanding, stretching to accommodate the overflows of his affection since learning the ways to love you—tenderness caught in little pixels of eternity.  

When Gojo goes through all 179 photos from that afternoon, he filters out the ones to delete and picks this one out especially—favorites and resizes it to fit his home screen and his wallet too. 

There’s something about the look on his face that reminds him of every time he’s caught the same one on you. 

He slides the photo into the little sleeve behind his credit card, catching himself smiling—this must be because of you, he thinks, and the bits and pieces of yourself that have somehow become part of him slowly, sneaking into him unknowingly.

If this is what it means to be in love, with you, then he’s fucked. 

Don’t you know that he’s insatiable? These traces of you will only make him want the whole of you. 

.

You find the photo while he rushes to the restaurant restroom. On ‘hang out’s like this, you insist on splitting the bill, but Gojo has always been stubborn and you’ve learned that you can never argue. 

He hands you his wallet to pay with his card, and when you slide it out, the photo falls. It’s face down on the floor when you pick it up, fully expecting it to be a photocard of some idol you know Gojo follows. 

But it isn’t, and your smile widens. 

When Gojo comes back, you’re looking up at him affectionately, biting your lips as if to stop yourself from speaking—the same way he always does. 

It’s funny because, slotted between your two fingers is the photo he’s kind of flustered you found, but he has no time to be embarrassed when he sees a little bit of himself in the way you’re staring at him right now.

.

.

.

“So, Yuuji asked if we were together.” 

You quirk an eyebrow, looking up at Gojo from the pile of laundry you’ve begun folding on your bed. He emerges from the bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel. 

Over the past year, Gojo has spent his weekends off with you, sleeping over and traipsing around your room in his pajama set as if he’s lived here just as long as you. 

You snort as you fold, amused that this is even a question to begin with. Yuuji’s always been known for being exceptionally dense, but you didn’t think it was this bad. Gojo was especially touchy with you during that beach trip, and you’re sure Megumi and Nobara have caught up to let him know by now, somehow. 

“What made him ask?” 

“I think he wants to take you away.” Gojo teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he throws the towel on the chair across your vanity. 

You roll your eyes, still sweetly, indulging him, “Sure.” 

It’s now a running joke that Gojo’s threatened about Yuuji stealing you; you’ve always had a soft spot for bright eyes and even brighter souls and Yuuji is as close to that as anyone can get. It’s not like that though; Yuuji is just like your Megumi—the two boys you want to protect and care for in hopes of treating them better than their lives have ever. 

Gojo feels the same, you know, otherwise he wouldn’t have guided them as much as he has (despite his questionable ways). Still, your hands have always been gentler, kinder—and though shorter, have always outstretched much farther than his. 

You have a way of inching your way into people’s lives that just fits. He’s experienced it first-hand, can’t even dare to imagine what his life would be like if you didn’t. 

He walks across the room to you, bed dipping as he steadies a knee before draping his entire body over your shoulders. 

Now that you think about it, it makes sense that Yuuji’s confused, because Gojo has always been extremely touchy to everyone, just never when the feelings mattered, with you. Kiss him once, though, and it snowballs into an avalanche of firsts. And what he’s about to do right now, he thinks, might just trigger another one to form all together. 

“As if I’d let him.” he mumbles right by your ear, chin tucked by the crook of your neck. It tickles when he speaks, his nose poking at your cheeks. 

“Who put you in charge?” you scoff jokingly, unfazed. 

He moves away from you in disbelief, mouth open as he stares at you mindlessly folding.

To be fair, he can’t fault you. You aren’t technically official even though you have kind-of-been for a little over a year. There’s no particular reason, just that you haven’t talked about it—part because you wanted him to approach it whenever he was ready, and also, because it just never seemed like a priority.

You laugh as he stares at you, stunned into silence, the pout on his face borrowed from all the versions of yours. 

There’s no point of contention because you’ve only ever loved Gojo since you were 17. 

“Kidding,” you kiss his cheek as an apology. 

“Don’t even joke about that.” he huffs, you’re starting to take after him a little too much.

“You’re mine.” he murmurs after, arms wrapped around your waist and legs stretched out wide to encase you. 

He says it as if it is the simplest truth. 

Your heartbeat quickens, too loud and pounding; this is the first time you’ve ever heard this from him. A part of you thinks this is just another one of those flirty side-comments he makes on a whim.

“You tell him that?” you hope he can’t hear your voice shake as he nuzzles your neck, your fingers trembling on the pair of socks you have yet to roll. 

He hums, hugging you tighter. He waits for you to finish folding before letting you lean against him, offering his fingers for you to fiddle with. They’re cold, long and slender, veiny just by a bit, and he always gives them to you like they’re yours, you like to think. 

There’s an inhale, a breath of hesitation, before he exhales.  

“Something like it.” 

You don’t say anything, only nod, and it’s nerve-wracking. He’s so nervous even though he knows he doesn’t have to be because it’s just you. And there’s no need to doubt what you’re feeling. But—

“You are though,” he pauses, “right?” 

He has to be sure. This is a testament to you more than himself that he’s learned to ask instead of bulldozing you like he does with everyone else. Who else will he pick that up from but you? 

There’s hesitation you hear that you think shouldn’t be there anymore; the fact that you’ve given so much of yourself to this man and he still thinks you’re unsure—

“‘Cause I’m yours.” he speaks, clearly, definitively, before you can even answer. And you know—you’ve known ever since that party years ago. A simple admittance: ‘I’m taken’. 

You turn around to face him, eyes shimmering. 

Can he see? You’re meant for him only. 

All you’ve ever wanted was to love him; everything else he’s done up until this point is already more than you could ever imagine. The labels can only do so much to capture the gravity of what you are to one another: years of history unpacked into a mishmash of feelings overlapping—it’s a lot.

You sit cross legged in front of him, your knees touching his. He’s biting his lips again, an anxious habit you want to kiss away. 

Gojo has proven far too much of himself already that he’s serious with you—your kind-of-confession, that confrontation, and the days after, all the ways you’ve both learned to love each other. 

You cup his cheeks. 

A single word cannot possibly define what he is to you.

“I mean, o-only if you want me to be.” he adds on, blue eyes darting back and forth.

Gojo runs his mouth almost all the time and you’ve never heard him stutter once in his life. Except now. 

He’s endearing like this—a version of him you are slowly discovering. 

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” you finally say, and it’s a relief. 

He feels good, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pull you closer, hugging you tighter as you both smile. 

He kisses you once, twice, maybe a million times all over, travelling across your eyelids, the center of your forehead, down to the corners of your mouth before landing a real one right on your lips. 

Gojo always looks pretty but he looks prettiest like this, worry-free, with love in his eyes and nothing but pure happiness in the way he holds you. 

He won’t tell you that Yuuji asked about your anniversary, not if you were together. 

At least now he has an answer.

Gojo stares at you like he wants to say something, a thank you maybe, but he bites his lips instead. No words will ever amount to this feeling, he thinks, of his chest expanding and heart hammering. So he kisses you with all of it, trailing soft smacks of his lips down your neck, tickling. The tips of his hair are still wet from his shower, leaving droplets on your skin as he nips. 

You laugh—sprinkled in love. 

“S-stop!” you push him away, “Satoru,” giggling, “tickles!” 

“We have to consummate it now.” he whispers, grabbing you by the waist to place you on his lap, squeezing your sides while nibbling at your neck playfully. 

You roll your eyes at his antics, “It’s not–” you laugh out loud when he pinches your hips, “–marriage, Satoru.” 

Oh, if only you knew, he thinks. 

The image you’ve planted in his head is dangerous when he’s this drunk on love right now. 

More decades, more years spent with you? In another life, or maybe even in this one, if time permits, he wouldn’t mind making that come true. 

.

It’s crazy how much things can change—for all his life, he’s ruled out the possibility of love ever taking root in his ribcage. 

You’ve managed to make it feel so easy, so good, even when he was shit-terrified not knowing how to love you like he should. 

Now, he thinks, how could he ever miss out on love this way? A love this good, with you? 

.

.

.

For all of Gojo’s life, he’s never had to be anyone else—always the strongest, the only one. He’s never had to change anything about himself, because when you’re the best, what’s there to improve? 

In a way, this is why it works with you. You’ve taken him as he is, all the good and ugly and never asked for anything more than what he can give. 

But being this in love with you—it’s foreign. There are pieces within him shifting, all on their own without him knowing. 

How he wants to be better, for you. To be good enough to deserve all of it, and give back more of it too. 

Gojo doesn’t realize how much love has changed him until he feels it uprooting every insecurity he never even knew existed, pulling it all up to the surface. 

When things are going great, it’s hard to imagine them ever going the other way. 

.

.

.

“You don’t mean that.” you mumble, voice trembling.

Gojo stares at you, at your lips quivering and the fists clenched to your sides. There are tears collecting in pools by your eyes, and if there’s anything else he hates in this world, it’s seeing you cry. 

So why?

Why couldn’t he just shut up? 

“Please tell me you don’t mean that,” you take a step closer, gripping the edge of his jacket “Satoru.” your voice cracks, begging. 

It’s an out-of-body experience when Gojo registers that he’s fucked up, and he sees himself now, bird’s-eye-view, and thinks this is the worst thing he could do to you after all you’ve been through. 

“I need some time to think,” he says, finally, the only words coming out of his mouth—but he can’t hear himself speaking. 

He should have said sorry, taken it all back, he thinks, not make it worse by leaving. 

He heads for the door, heart crunching under each footstep away from you. 

Is this what being in love’s supposed to do? Break his heart while yours is bleeding?

.

You’re too good for Gojo, in every sense of the word—and he knows it.

You are far too kind, far too generous, far too patient with him. You give him more love than he deserves, definitely, and admittedly enough, with how he is, you have been settling for the bare minimum but that’s on him, not on you. 

He had no right speaking to you the way he did, hurting you with accusations born from insecurities he’s never before had to deal with. 

He knows it. 

Who accuses you of ‘meddling’ as if everything out of you doesn’t come from the goodness of your heart? Of provoking you with ‘chasing the bare minimum’ as if he isn’t aware that that’s all he’s given you to work with? 

Utahime was right in telling you to be careful with him, and he doesn’t blame her for it. He would have done the same. 

He should have told you there was something brewing inside of him already—should have talked to you instead of bursting from all the things people have been saying lately.

Gojo hasn’t spoken to you in three days and the feeling this compares to is worse than anything else he’s ever had to face. 

.

He knocks on your door at night, a little past dinner and too early for bedtime. They echo loudly within the walls of your apartment, and you drag yourself up despite your obvious look of heartbreak. 

Gojo hears your footsteps and everything moves entirely too slowly; the lock, taking far too long to turn, the gap between the door and the door frame widening incrementally. Even your face comes into view as if in stop motion, frame-by-frame, gradually.

His hands are in his pockets, lips bitten to bleed. He’s pretty sure he isn’t breathing when he takes you in—puffy eyes and a sweater that belongs to him. 

(Is it sick of him to say that he still finds you beautiful this way? Even when you look every bit the part of heartache?) 

Gojo didn’t have a plan coming here, didn’t have a list of things to say, just the feeling that he needed to talk to you, see you, even just be around you today. 

When your eyes meet, it’s quiet. You stare into him for one–two–three– (can you tell that they’re watery? Can you see they’re puffed up too?) and then open the door wider to let him in. You head straight to the kitchen, never once looking back while dragging your feet. 

He stands outside a few seconds more, waiting for you to take it back, but you don’t, so he walks in and closes the door.

He’s been in your apartment plenty of times before, has practically lived in it by how often he stays over. But this is the first time he’s felt wholly out of place, not knowing where to put himself, just standing in the space between your kitchen counter and the living room awkwardly.

You push a glass of water towards him and he can’t stop staring at it—at you, at your fingers that he wants nothing more now but to hold. 

Even with all his faults, all his wrongs, you open your arms for him to walk into, allow him in as if he didn’t just hurt you. 

And he wants to cry, at the fact that this place still feels like home, at how it’ll always feel that way wherever you go. 

How are you still treating him so kindly? Still taking care of him? A glass of water is one too many for someone like him. 

You turn away from him to pour yourself your own then he speaks—

“You should be angry with me.” Gojo says softly, but you hear it. 

You pause, tilting the pitcher back upright. 

“Why aren’t you angry at me?” he says, a little louder this time, more desperate, more pleading.

Why are you never angry at me? he wants to ask. 

You turn around to face him, putting the pitcher down.

Under your kitchen lights, his eyes shine like sunlight on the ocean, waves lapping on the shore. You think it might be a trick of the light, but his lips tremble when he closes them, as if he can’t speak any more. 

It’s just as you’ve said, there’s no point being angry with Gojo when your heart can never take it. 

You always give Gojo the benefit of the doubt, and though he’s hurt you—though this might be the most painful thing he’s told you yet, you know that he’s been under immense pressure lately. Stressed beyond belief from negotiating with the government on policies for jujutsu society. 

It’s not an excuse, you know, but Gojo always has his reasons. He’ll tell you eventually, you believe that much. 

You give him a sad smile, struggling to stop your tears from spilling. His fists are clenched too tightly, nails digging in hard enough to bleed. He hasn’t moved since coming in, so you push yourself off the kitchen sink towards him. 

You take his hands first, unfurl each finger pressed upon his palm and rub gently. He cries quietly for a love so pure that only you would attempt to ease his hurt despite the pain he’s dealt you. 

You tiptoe second, pulling the sleeves of your (his) sweater before reaching up to wipe his eyes—beautiful and blue just like you’ve always known, droplets of the ocean at your fingertips. 

“Be mad,” he whispers, “please.” squeezing his eyes tightly. 

It hurts more when you aren’t, he thinks. 

His hand comes up to grip your wrist, bringing it down to cup his cheek. You stroke your thumb across his skin, soothing, loving, and that’s all it takes for him to pull you in. He hugs you tight, arms wrapped around you, clutching. 

He wouldn’t deserve you. In any life.

Gojo’s never cried this much before, head pressed to your neck as you rub circles along his back, shushing him softly. You start sniffling too, small at first until it turns into soft hiccups when you finally cry. 

Your grip on him tightens. 

“‘M sorry.” he mumbles, lips moving against your neck. 

“‘S–” you hiccup, “–okay.” 

“Stop saying that when it’s not,” he presses against you, nuzzling your neck, “I hurt you.”

“Then don’t–” another hiccup, “–call yourself–” hic, “–bare minimum.” you cry harder. 

Gojo knows your heart and the tears that leak out of your eyes; he knows they hold pain for more than just you but every single person in your life. You, crying now, is evidence of that truth—shedding tears for him not just because of him when he thinks he’s the bare minimum. 

This must be what it means to be truly, deeply loved, he thinks, to have someone know what you mean without even having to speak it—to know your heart, and all the good and bad parts of it. 

“I don’t think I’m good enough to you,” he admits, pulling himself away from you.

When he sees your face, wet, with your nose and eyes puffed up from crying, he decides that he hates it more than anything else. Makes it sick to his stomach, even. 

He cradles your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your tears. A whole hand of his could cover your face entirely, but he always, without fail, holds you delicately. 

“That’s not–” hic, “–true.” you gather your breathing, holding him by the wrists as he presses his forehead against yours. “Only I get to decide that. Not anyone, not you.” 

You kiss his lips, a small peck before nudging his nose with yours. You soothe each other this way—in the quiet, swaying to your own tune. 

“You’re good to me plenty, Satoru.” you whisper, once both of you have settled. 

He opens his eyes to look at you, smiling sadly as he cradles your face, “I didn’t mean it.” 

Whatever he told you that day, taking it all out on you.

“I know.” you mumble, nodding. 

You always do. 

.

.

.

Gojo has always loved you, in some type of way—as friends, colleagues, a-little-bit-more-but-less-than what you are today. 

But how he feels right now? It’s kinda ridiculous, borderline out-of-hand, and it’s driving him insane. 

It’s such a simple, ordinary thing for you to do: you rush up to him, phone in hand and scroll to something you saw on the internet. You’re so excited, a bounce in your step as if he’s the first and only person you want to show this to. Your eyes shine bright with a megawatt smile to match, and you’re talking so, so fast, completely lit up like fireworks in the making. 

He knows you think that he’s listening but, he couldn’t care less about it honestly. Sorry. Not when the words go in one ear and out the other because all that registers is how adorable you are, giddy and everything. 

He makes a joke—completely unrelated, but you find it so funny. Then you’re laughing, full on smacking his arm, doubled over, arms hugging your stomach, guffawing. Your feet are kicking the air as you sink deeper into your couch. Gojo’s standing in front of you, post-enactment of some impression he made, and he’s frozen in place but warm all over. 

Seeing you laugh like this, smile like this, being so pretty when you’re happy, the pounding in his chest goes crazy. 

This isn’t the first time he’s made you laugh; he does it all the time. You almost always roll your eyes and chuckle, sometimes giggle with your eyes squinting and laugh lines creasing. But it might be the first time it’s like this: with you so bright, more than the sun and every other star in the sky. 

And he thinks, this is all he could ever want—to make you happy for the rest of his life. 

There’s too much of this feeling inside of him, clawing at his throat, itching to get out. He’s filled with it, has been filled with it for so long that it’s starting to overflow and if he doesn’t say this now he might just—

“I’m so in love with you.” 

Gojo breathes it out, as if finally being able to release it after all this time. You don’t think he processes it because he just stands there, in the middle of your living room, staring at you. 

He looks so sweet, so sincere, and you see his heart, so big, so honest and pure. You get my flashbacks of every Satoru you have ever known, at 15, 17, 23, to now. Your laughter dies with maybe a little part of you too (in a good way). 

It’s not like either of you don’t know; it’s plain as day, how you feel about each other—and you would have been fine going on without ever having to hear him speak of love this way.

But hearing it now, it’s far better than anything you could have imagined. 

You stare at him. He stares at you. 

He’s shocked too. 

You don’t want to embarrass him, especially if he didn’t mean to say it, so you chuckle, moving on to break the tension. 

“I can unhear it if you want,” you offer shyly, genuinely. 

Gojo looks at you, confused, before a pout makes its way onto his face. You sit up on your couch, playing with your fingers as you look up at him.

He knows he practically blurted it out, maybe in the heat of the moment, or something, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And he’s realizing that the only thing he really wants from this—

“Though…” you continue, biting your lips, “I think I’m pretty in love with you too.” 

The little laugh you make has him, completely. 

The grin that breaks on his face is infectious. Gojo, who is normally so pale, is now pink all over—red by his ears and down his neck. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that can be found in yours too. 

This moment right here feels like first loves—teens first saying ‘I love you’. 

“You think?” he asks incredulously, joking, “So you’re not sure?” he walks closer to you. 

You laugh, candy for his cravings, and take his hand to kiss each knuckle before guiding it to your cheek. He runs a thumb across your skin, affection on his fingertips. His index finger hooks itself under your chin, tilting it to rest on his stomach as you look up at him. 

A kiss to your forehead, tenderly, gently. 

The best part about being in love? 

He gets to be in it with you. 

.

.

.

Gojo can’t sleep. 

It’s not anything new—4 hours on average, maybe 6 on a good night. He doesn’t remember a time when sleep ever came easily.

Sleeping with you, beside you, has helped, but it’s never solved the problem. You’ve gotten him to a full 8 hours before, but never consecutively, and he’s starting to think that if you can’t do it, nothing ever will. 

Your sleeping positions change every night, but they always come out as some variation of hugging. Gojo firmly believes that he might as well sleep alone if you aren’t touching. 

Tonight, you’re spooning, arm slung over his waist and palm right on his chest, fingers interlaced with his. Your legs stay tangled together with soft puffs of air blowing at the back of his neck. 

He opens his eyes and checks the clock by his bedside. 3:24 a.m. 

He sighs deeply, carefully maneuvering his body to slip away from you. You used to wake up the first few times this happened, worried about an emergency or some kind of accident. Being a sorcerer trains you for things like that. 

You’ve always known Gojo had bad sleep, just not the severity of it. 

You don’t wake up to it as much as you used to, having grown accustomed to it after more nights together, but on the off-chance that you do, Gojo always kisses your forehead gently as if to tell you that it’s okay, you can go back to sleep.

You don’t wake up now, thankfully, so he grabs his phone and heads for the kitchen. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest tonight, far heavier than others he’s woken up from. He pours himself a glass of water before hopping on the kitchen counter, ready to sort through the bowl of candy sitting on the island. 

The date today is October 31. Halloween. It’s been a few years since Shibuya but he still feels like he’s suffocating. 

In the train station. In the box.

In front of Suguru—or Kenjaku, both, whatever. 

He’s gone to therapy, just like you wanted, for the both of you, and grieving has been an interesting concept to wrap his head around since.

But no matter how much he trains his mind to deal with it, his body will always remember the feeling. 

He snaps out of it when he hears your footsteps padding on the floorboards. Your figure emerges from the hallway, bed hair and eyes still sleepy, squinting. 

“Satoru?” you rub at your eyes, his sleep shirt entirely too long as the sleeves extend past your fingertips. The extra fabric swings in the air. “You okay?” you whisper, approaching him. 

Waking you up is the last thing he could ever want right now, but it’s hard when you’re also the only one he can talk about this with. When you know what it’s like to grieve everyone too.  

He has every intention of brushing it off, of telling you to go to sleep, but one look at you—one look at him and it’s like you just know. He doesn’t even need to explain. 

It isn’t hard to piece together, knowing what today is and seeing him choked up the way he is. You tell Gojo it’s your intuition, but he has a tell, and maybe you’re the only one who knows it. 

His eyes—they’ve always given him away. There’s the Satoru you know, then a Satoru that’s far removed, gone away. You can spot it though, the moment it loses its sparkle, the moment it turns from blue to gray. 

He feels a little selfish sharing this with you; he’s not the only one who’s lost people. You have too. 

You stand in front of him and offer a sad smile, outstretching your arms as an invite, as if to tell him: you can stay here for as long as you’d like. 

He moves into your space slowly, hopping off the kitchen island to slump against you. 

He doesn’t hug you yet, not immediately, hands still shaky at the memory. You rub his back, hooking your chin on his shoulder as he bends down to rest his head by your cheek. 

You take his hand delicately, bringing them to your lips so you can kiss every fingertip gently. When you finish, he wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whisper, like a hushed secret. 

And he wants to, but also, there isn’t anything else to say that you don’t know already. You were there the first few times he had therapy, and when he felt comfortable enough to go alone, he told you all about it anyway right after. 

If there’s a secret to fighting him and coming out in victory, they’d only have to get to you—he’d be gone, entirely. You know too much of him, own too many parts of him already. 

He chuckles dryly, you feel it vibrating by your neck. A step back and he’s leaning against the counter, bringing you closer by the hip, thumb stroking. He tucks away strands of your hair behind your ear, flattening down the bird’s nest that it is from your sleep. 

“Nothing you haven’t heard before, pretty.”

Gojo’s been more tender lately, especially in the night when his piercing eyes turn soft, gazing. 

You pout, the same one since you were 16. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it, the way he calls you such sweet, honeyed things; you’ve only recently begun to call him ‘baby’ and that alone has been enough to make your head spin. 

Still, he wouldn’t be your Satoru if he didn’t surprise you. With how he is now, it’s hard to imagine a time when this was all so difficult for him, when even the slightest bit of your hands touching was challenging. 

It’s hard to imagine that both of you are here now, living in the same space, by the kitchen at night, with the contents of your hearts memorized—the sorrow, the pain, the joy, all the love, every single one. 

He kisses your nose, and that’s comfort alone. 

This is his reality now, with you, and it’s safe.

It’s good. 

“Do you want to make waffles?” he hears you mumble, running your hands over his chest, soothing.  

The clock reads 3:56 a.m. Early breakfast doesn’t sound so bad, could also be a midnight snack.

(But he knows what you’re doing). 

You don’t tell him to try to go back to sleep, never forcing anything you know he can’t do. Instead, you offer yourself to stay up with him, keep him company. Whatever he needs. 

(And he loves that about you). 

.

.

.

Gojo will forever argue that you might have fallen first, but he’s definitely fallen harder. 

He could map out every single location he’s laid his love on—your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your nose, and your lips, the same ones he’s kissed and nipped, bitten until he gets his fill. 

Your neck and chest—a canvas for his desires. He glides a finger across your collarbone before lightly tapping on it thrice. 

There’s the little dip at the base of your spine and your thighs—

Oh, he could get lost in them. 

He knows. 

He has. Many times.

There’s an animal inside of him that only answers to you. 

When you kiss his neck and grip his back, soft moans by his ear—short and sweet. He’s a gone man, wholly devoted to you, and you only. 

You breathe his name out, “Satoru,” raspily, and he sinks into you—everything, all that he has spilling in the depths of you. 

How can he possibly contain all this love?

It’s scary how so much of him already belongs to you, all these years—how you’ve been carrying pieces of him, all versions of him throughout every birthday, every moment you’ve touched his life and have it irrevocably changed. 

.

“Are you happy?” he mumbles in your ear, voice deep and lazy. 

It’s the morning, sunlight barely peeking through your curtains. Gojo hugs you from behind, arms caging you as he traces little hearts on your sides. 

“Right now?” you whisper back, chuckling, “That’s not fair.” 

He nips at your ear, a small bite, before you turn to face him.

He supposes you’re right, it isn’t fair to ask that now; both your bodies are sore, well-exhausted, and littered with love. 

Gojo is pretty in the mornings just like he is all the time, his hair lends well to sunlight as much as it does to the moonlight. And his eyes—they shine a different shade during the day compared to the night. 

You though, you’re an entirely different creature of your own: a goddess in bedsheets and pillows, wrapped in immaculate white.  

You giggle when you face him, nose-to-nose, and he pulls you in tighter, grips you by the butt to slot you in right where you belong. 

Are you happy with me? 

He wonders, and you can read it—his eyes his greatest tell. You kiss him tenderly, lips moving gently against his. Then you smile, sincerely, before whispering—

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

thank you notes: to @stellamancer for being there since the very start!! col wouldn’t even exist without you!! you’re every much part of the creation of this as i am :'), to @crysugu for being so ever supportive, cheering me on all the time!! and for loving col reader as much as i do!!, to @vagabond-umlaut for being so lovely!! lifting me up when i was really nervous about this!! and to you reading this and everyone else who has loved this collection so far!!  of course!! a credit to all the writers whose works have inspired the way i view and write gojo: to @seravphs for teen dad!gojo and cruel summer influences, i draw so much of the way i understand these characters and their dynamics from you and your beautiful way of writing them and i hope my interpretation gives justice to that!!, to @augustinewrites for keeping up with the fushigojos, this series and the way you write them, with so much love, has always pushed for me to view gojo that way!! you’ve inspired so much of my understanding that gojo does believe in love and that when he falls in it, he falls in it hard!!

[kidsinsaturn]

shisui courting you

[🗼] first part of shisui general headcanons because he is my distinguished little gentleman

also I'm working with all your requests but they won't be posted until next week because I'm going out and also you guys have so many original ideas I don't wanna mess them up aaaaa

characters: shisui uchiha

genre: sfw; non massacre au

warnings: gn!reader; shisui courting reader; spying ??; minor obsessive traits

...

...

...

-from the moment shisui laid his eyes on you, he was slightly becoming obsessed with you. not in the yendere-like way, but in an intense adoration kind of way

-so uchihas love very hard right? and since my baby boy is a rational uchiha, he knew that he had to use this newfound love in the right way

-i don't think he'd have many preferences when it comes to a s/o, but he definitely set for someone who shares his ideals about the village

-his devotion for his village is quite deep, so if he meets someone who would also give their life to save konoha (or their own village) then that would be a huge plus for him

-shisui would fall for someone who is protective of their ideals, someone kind and positive but not submissive. he wouldn't like to see you bottling up your thoughts or feelings because you feel inferior

-he loves seeing you passionate about the things you love–which he would slowly take an interest in–, so regardless of how many talents or hobbies you have, he loves seeing you doing them

-he doesn't really care about your physique, as long as you are healthy. he would love if you had any interest in physical activities since he loves corporal interactions, and he would love if you had any training/walks together

-before shisui even thinks of confessing to you, he will court you in the most gentleman yet flirty way he could come with. he is very original with everything he does, with every thing he gives you or any encounter you two have

-as I said before, shisui would become a little obsessed with you from the moment he met you; he felt these strange connection and attraction with you, and as you both were having more moments together, he fell for you, hard

-since he is a very skilled and agile ninja, regardless of your civil rank, he will silently observe you from afar; every time he has free time, he would spend it observing you, what you do, what you like, he would learn your schedule

-shisui is very attentive, it comes naturally since he's been involved in the shinobi world since childhood, so to him it isn't weird or creepy to watch someone in detail

-so before talking to you, shisui would like to know what you do, you like, so he doesn't come off as awkward

-he looks so confident talking to you that you can't help but find his good posture, lighthearted smile, and charming charisma so attractive

-shisui would be so alert for the littlest pinch of interest from you. that is enough to make him continue

-he doesn't give up though, if you want to act tough and hard to get, he will notice !! he doesn't fall into those traps, he is very good at reading people and seeing through them

-so it wouldn't take too long for you to be smitten with shisui's charms, he is just so lovable and hard to miss; you won't even notice when your harmless conversations turned into flirty comments at each other

-shisui would want to be the one to confess. ok he probably thinks too much about this instead of letting everything go smoothly, but he loves you already and he wants your relationship to be perfect

-he would wait for the perfect moment; he is certain you reciprocate his feelings and that you want something with him. he would probably confess in the most random moment

-you would think he would plan a very detailed date with a bunch of flowers, but not really. it would be at your regular trainings/walks, while you are at ease, he would suddenly go quiet and then look at you intensely, whispering a soft "I've liked you from a long time," then he would pause for a second, not waiting for your response, "would you give me the honor of calling you my girlfriend/boyfriend?"

-after you say yes–because why wouldn't you–then shisui would pick you up, spinning you around careful not to hurt you. he would ask you if you let him kiss you, then he would give you one long kiss in your lips, then he would pepper your face with so many kisses you can't help but giggle

-shisui would ask you to tell him you love him, and the second those words leave your mouth, he would never grow tired from hearing them, extremely happy and pleased when you repeat those words

-and now you have established a relationship with the most charming, lovely, gorgeous boy out there, who comes with first class attention, endless hours of fun, and just the best boyfriend material

[godbirdart]

Hi! I've found you on Tumblr and I'm extremely happy for that (a divine find!). I know your art from FA and I love your style.

The prompt suggests a question, so here's a small one. Do you enjoy much art outside of the one that's similar to yours?

Well, that's it. All good wishes. ^^

oh hell yes of course i do!!

when asked what my Favorite kind of art is my mind IMMEDIATELY goes to Northwest Coast art. ever since i was a kid i've been VERY obsessed with formline art and still very much so am.

[artist: trevor angus]

as a kid my first interaction with formline art was in the form of The Spirit of Haida Gwaii by Bill Reid - a sculpture formerly featured on the canadian 20 dollar note. there's a copy of it hanging out in the museum of national history and i really need to go back to appreciate it now that i'm not a kid with an obligation to stick with a tour group. i DID get to glimpse the Jade Canoe edition in the vancouver airport for a fleeting moment between late connections - needless to say i was very heartbroken that i couldn't stick around to appreciate its detail.

the thing i absolutely go feral for are orcas in formline art. nothing - i repeat - NOTHING can compare to the sheer grip this animal in this art style has on me. i do not really have words to explain it, how i came to love this or why, i am just very enthusiastic about orcas in this style and have been for as long as i can remember.

i have a tiny handful of pins and merch made by various Haisla, Namgis and Haida artists - though only a few artists offer orca art. i don't want to just impulse-buy whatever orca i can find [etsy for example is a hellhole of stolen / appropriated art and i ain't for it] so i'm just patiently waiting around until an artist from a pacific northwest community puts up an art piece for sale.

[artist: Cori Savard - this particular print is on my to-buy list i just need to save the coin for it hhhhh]

now, completely unrelated to formline art.

i am also a fan of The Voice of Fire by Barnett Newman; if only for the fact that the museum bought this piece for 1.8 million and then proceeded to display it in the most OMINOUSLY EMPTY ROOM THEY HAD IN THE WHOLE BUILDING. my love for this painting isn't necessarily in the painting itself, but the presentation. i have stood in this room. occasionally there are other sculptures in there, but for the most part it just lingers there, isolated, glaring at you.

if we're going more into fandom culture and independent artists online, while i cannot say I've a particular Art Idol, i am a huge fan of [for lack of a better word for it] the kemono art style. i don't want to go and repost other artist's work without permission here, or make this post Even Longer, so i'll just point you in the direction of a few artists that draw in the style i'm talking about. it's first thing in the morning and i'm just barely waking up so i'm only going to post a small handful

terenry / terenryrm

mochiri

ev-oo

moonagvaze

i have a character design by terenry so i can post him as an example since i own the oc now [this is the watermarked art i pulled from my Toyhouse. the watermark is there to deter oc / art thieves but the artwork itself is by terenry]

sorry this ended up being really long aAaAA don't get me started on my favorite art i will never shut up about it. i can and will ramble for Hours about it. to say art is a passion of mine is a criminal understatement.

[chibimyumi]

Hello chibi! I've been following your blog for a few months, I adore your work and all of the research you do for your posts!

I wanted to ask, is there any instance in the manga where someone refers to Sebastian as "Sebastian Michaelis"? I mean, does any character, including Sebas, ever use the surname?

Has Yana ever said anything about where the surname comes from in-universe? (I know that irl it's a reference to a real person, but has she said anything about where Sebas got "Michaelis" from or if he just invented it?)

Aaaaa sorry this is super long, I hope you can understand!! Best of luck and lots of love!

Dear Anon,

Thank you very much for your compliment!

Off the top of my head (and double checking of moments I remember), I also have a hard time coming up with an instance where Sebas introduces himself by his full (temporary) name. (Sorry, I realise that even though my memory for Kuro is fairly good, it is still not perfect... but I also don’t really have time time to reread 175 chapters just to check one trivia. Anyone who does have a more complete picture, please do share!)

The only one I remember is when he introduces himself as ProfMika (ミカせん(MikaSen), the Nickname the JP fandom has for him (≽ω≼)). But then Sebas is never referred to by his first name in the arc, except by his master in private.

There are no other instances I happen to remember or to have stumbled across where Sebas’ full name is being used.

As explained in this post, Yana doesn’t really attach importance to names, so it also surprises me very little that in 10+ years, so few names have been dropped. I mean...what other series has THREE main characters without their real names known after a decade??? Yana cares about names so little a lot of characters aren’t even introduced to other characters on page. So yeah, anyone waiting for the revelation of O!Ciel, Sebas' or UT's true name, don't hold your breath. I judge the chance of never ever learning their true names higher.

Chapter 15-16 for example, are the ones wherein Agni and Soma newly meet Sebas and O!Ciel. Without the main duo having introduced themselves to the strangers, the next chapter Agni already showed that he learned of their names, calling the master "Lord Ciel", and referring to the butler as "Mr. Sebastian."

It is possible that the self-introduction did happen, we just didn't see it. (Yes, I checked).

For Sebas though, it is actually really logical that his name or full name is hardly used. He is a servant, and servants were supposed to be little more than tools and furniture, after all.

In chapter 88 when our protagonists first meet Sieglinde, she asks for the boy's name. Ciel replied, but Sebastian didn't say anything, because it was not his place to talk. What proper servant would introduce himself unasked for, in the same spotlights as his master?

And indeed it wasn't until later that Sieglinde asked Ciel, that the boy dropped his butler's first name. In West-European culture I believe, people's surnames are not commonly mentioned unless it is specifically to distinguish someone's identity, or because the name hold some weight. A mere servant though? Nah.

As for a potential explanation for the name "Michaelis", well, we are fairly certain Yana was inspired by the historical Sébastien Michaëlis, but when I try to search Yana's twitter, there are no results to be found. I think at the time Yana didn't really expect her tiny, silly, one-shot manga to come from the ground, so she just went for something quick and edgy.

I am not sure whether you are open to roleplay interpretations, but my favourite Sebas roleplayer @akumadeshitsumon wrote:

If the man himself were still around to observe, I sincerely hope that he would be bothered by my actions while wearing his name. (source)

This roleplayer suggested in the post that Sebas as a demon chose the name "Michaelis" to spite Michaëlis for his classification of demons. I also assume the real Sebas would have found a 17th century inquisitor's work about demons highly offensive.

[achairwithapandaonit]

first, Happy valentines day :DDD

second, sorry it's been so long since i last checked up on you i guess it was on January??? Im not sure but i believe it's been a month and im sorry but here i am to check up on you :DDDDDDD

OKAAAAAAAAAY LET'S GET TO BUSINESS!!! How was your week ??? How is your day ??? Did you eat well ???? Are you hydrated ???? How are you feeling lately ???? Are you being comfortable or is there something bothering you ???? If you are then i hope you always keep up happy ^^ if there is something that's bothering you i just wanted to let you know that you are not apone and there alot of poeple around here that will always support you and stand by your side

Have a great day <333

:D happy valentines day!

also dw about not checking in :P real life is hard and sometimes internet life takes a backburner (??? is that even the term? this is my first language and i still get confused) because of that. besides,, being mutuals is like. :3 we are all vibing. <3 <3 <3

not much has happened this week seeing as it's only monday hsdkghksg but it has been okay i think. I walked down to the woods near where i live to do some drawings for a uni project earlier then came home and made soup and cleaned the floors. and now i'm doing more project work, but will stop in half an hour probably. (day ends either at 3pm or 4pm i make the rules).

the soup was very good! even tho i cooked it a bit too long. i should probably drink some water now that you mention it.

and it's been a good day where i've been productive, which hasn't been the norm recently cause my adhd kicks my ass hard.

ALSO! :D i have written a lot for a big big one-shot i'm planning to post?? when it's done i guess lol. tho it's getting very long so maybe i'll post it in chapters and that'll work out cause more people will find it that way.

i'm back into bnha again so it's of course a dadmight fic, and i've finally gotten to! write a time travel au!! with this! which has been something i've wanted to do for years but have somehow never managed for any of the fandoms i'm in.

i don't know if i told u i took up knitting?? but sdhgkjsgkshA HSHSHSDHHSDHHS AAAAA MY ADHD KICKED MY ASS AND I'M LIKE,,,, so CLOSE to finishing one half of a pair of fingerless mittens, but i just can't touch it cause funky brain chemicals go nooooo you can't have this one thing

i hope you're having a good day/week!!! are you still into oh my memory is shit at names?? uhh tokyo revengers? i think that was it. i hope your favourite character is having a great time! and not suffering too much in the way that blorbos from shows tend to.

wait wait,, here is a snippet from the last scene i wrote for the dadmight time travel au:

“Who’s Tenko?” Toshinori asks, at the same time that Midoriya asks, “How do you adopt a child?”

Toshinori gapes. “I- Young Midoriya? What. You’re only twenty.”

“Twenty six, actually,” Midoriya says, placing a pile of heavy books down on the coffee shop table. “Is twenty not old enough?”

“I think you should focus on your studies,” Toshinori says.

“This is important,” Midoriya says seriously. “It’s not just a whim.”

Toshinori looks at Midoriya for a good while. He sighs.

“I’m not exactly a great resource for finding out about adoption, seeing as I’ve never done it, but I’ll help however I can.”

Midoriya beams.

What follows is a quick google search on Midoriya’s laptop.

The boy takes one look at the screen and slumps in defeat. “Oh, twenty really isn’t old enough,” he says.

“I thought you said you were twenty six,” Toshinori says, reading over his shoulder.

“Not in the eyes of the law.”

Toshinori’s not sure he wants to know what that’s about. He’s not sure he’ll ever understand the things that make their way out of Midoriya’s mouth.

[neo-shitty]

i would do exactly the same, seungmin got bolder in each era now 😭 i can't refrain myself to go around being crazy on how he looked on that outfit and his expressions is so 🔥🔥

once you get close with han i'm sure you had to deal with everything he has in mind 😌

i will if i do have some time (if my uni gives me a break) i saw a few cuts but i don't remember any of them, i have a bad memory though 🥺 i haven't read the webtoon you've showed me though but that character gives me yoshi vibes in jikjin! man that kid deserves a lot of love and i'll wait for you to write something about it 💕

yeah! it's like representing a young love which a couple would spend their date on an amusement park or somewhere fun and take polaroid pictures later, jeez, that kind of feeling though 😭 ahh yes definitely agree with it, wonpil and seungmin can pass as brothers, then there's jake too and then sunghoon and minho really do sound like each other as well 👀 just that they have different personalities.

have you seen the teasers? man everyone looks so good! i can't wait to listen to their new album, it's been a quite while since "i know i love you" though. ahh yes! i started stanning day6 around 2016 i've listened to every song too just like how seungmin does, and yes! they're the most successful mydays and aghases 😭 you should check them out sometime 😇

i felt comfortable talking with you about it 🥺 yeah i do, especially when it's like e.g. 4.4 (april 4) sale, they give discounts, i don't know if it's applicable to the other countries but sellers on twitter and shopee would do that so i can buy them cheap, they're actually legit though

same here though, i have a lot of school works to do 😭

— ☁️

HELP???? OH MY GOD. i’m so sorry, i thought i posted this but it got saved to my drafts instead :(( sorry for the long wait!! on the topic of seungsung, i saw this on twt the other day. also, i’m sorry if my response here is pretty bad and incoherent. i don’t really know what to say nor how to communicate T_T

lately, i’ve been seeing a lot of the concert clips of skz and AAAAA i love seeing them literally glow on stage. i really want to see them live someday :((

i actually haven’t read that webtoon i just happened to see that character a lot on tiktok i think. also, i haven’t read the lyrics of polaroid love, i just assume what the song means through the vibe. on the topic of polaroids, they’re still mad expensive to me. but i do admit, they’re cute to look at.

i haven’t had the time to see the teasers. i have been sooooo busy with school. i’ll check it out maybe later. i don’t even know if it already released. i loved the recent comeback songs so much without me knowing?? bc i can’t say i didn’t love them when i wrote fics inspired fr them. 

oh!!! i thought they were discounts for the photocards themselves instead of just the checkout. i think my friend uses them a lot. i’ll keep it in mind to make my purchases on dates like that. ON THE TOPIC OF PHOTOCARDS, MY BESTFRIEND GAVE ME SEUNGCHAN PCS T___T nearly cried my eyes out over these, esp the seung pc literally one of the cutest ones i’ve ever seen.

i finished uni yesterday AAAA good luck with yours tho!!