#I missed them too <3< /div>
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Revenge :3 In which Season 10 (dbhc) Bdubs gets a new fit and one person is decidedly Not Very Normal about it + the original concept sketch :]
(Referencing this post!)
#art escapades#dbhc#hermitcraft#dbhc etho#dbhc bdubs#ethoslab#bdoubleo100#bdubs#hermitcraft au#dbhc art#dbhc s10#hermitcraft s10#the one where etho sighs in relief when bdubs turns around still really gets me#I couldn’t tell you where from but I think that specific expression was inspired from somewhere#snoopy comes to mind but I can’t find any sort of ref image that has that exact expression#it’s very silly to me though LOL#etho is so downbad#me too though I can’t blame either of them#bdubs knows he’s won though which is the important thing#SILLY BOYS!!!! I missed them :3
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inside joke
#drew this in a frenzied state#i missed them soooo so much here they are in full colour.... i adore....#Chilchuck is saying something soooo fucking snarky#Senshi is too distracted by his face#both their breaths smell absolutely terrible fyi <3#chilchuck tims#senshi of izganda#dunmeshi#dungeon meshi#chilshi#pots n picks
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was it casual when i sat in your lap in public? was it casual when i said "recently my heart is crying because you're leaving"? was it casual when we decided how your last name would fit with mine? ("yuki tsunoda-gasly" / "no tsunoda, only gasly" / "yuki gasly?") was it casual when we sang adele's "someone like you" together at your going away party? was it casual when i knew it was you just by touching your ass? was it casual when i knew it was you by smell alone? was it casual when "will you miss me?" / "for 2-3 minutes maybe" / "i'll take that. even if it's just 2-3 minutes, i'll take that"? was it casual when that bus was completely empty and we still sat right next to each other, all the way in the back? was it casual when i picked you up multiple times so you could dunk a basketball? was it casual when i begged to come over to your house multiple time and then you finally let me and we cooked fried rice together? was it casual when we played christmas twister together and i said "your big eggplant is touching my ass"? was it casual when we were pressed up against each other on a scooter going two miles per hour? was it casual when-
#edit: tinytauris fact checked my post and they sang 'hello' not someone like you & it was 'your big monster' not eggplant#everyday i think about the fact that yukierre should've been what lestappen is now#i should be able to go on the yukierre tag on ao3 and it should say 'showing 1-20 of 6745'#they were genuinely so fuckingg weird about each otherrrrrr#im being so serious when i say that if they ever came out as gay/bi/whatever i really wouldnt be surprised#literally just 'okay?? fork spotted in kitchen cmon now' moment#anyway i think about that moment on the bus soooo often#will you miss me? / maybe for 2-3 minutes / ill take that then. even if it's just for 2-3 minutes ill take that#hwat the FUCK#i was going 'gay gay homosexual' everytime i saw them together#yukierre#yuki tsunoda#pierre gasly#also im like 90% sure that everyting i worte down actually happened but if i wrote smth down that didnt happen#and my yukierre infested brain just conjured up please let me know#also ive had this is in my drafts foreverrrr (re: since july) so if this has already been done im so sorry#i always feel like such a loser making posts about driver relationships lol#like 'oh look at that weirdo that got too invested in people she doesn't even know'#whatever im getting to introspective now#1k
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The indescribable tension between an overworked and underpaid smut writer, and his biggest fan hater.
(for @frummpets)
#SVSSS#Shen yuan#shang qinghua#cumplane#Normally I don't tag with ship names but this one is a special case.#Confession time: When I first had SVSSS described to me I 100% thought the main pairing was between these two.#The dynamic is impeccable! Even if its 'just a fan ship' I stand by it.#Sorry to the people who like to think of them as handsome pretty boys. I don't.#These guys sit in their rooms and use the computer for 90% of waking hours. They are not looking after themselves well enough for good skin#They can be cute in their own way. People with acne and missed shaving spots deserve to have their romances too.#And sloppy hate makeouts <3#Hi Sol! I truly did whoop and holler when drawing your name for the raffle!#You've been so kind and generous towards me and I'd happy to finally have the opportunity to give back some of that joy!#Thank you so much for all your support and the incredible fanart <3 You've made my day so many times!#I hope this silly mini comic is to your liking!#Playing around with colours for this one was a blast!
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cyn doodles+drew all the main guys in my style.ill miss them </3
#analiceoriginal.png#murder drones#cyn#murder drones cyn#uzi doorman#serial designation n#serial designation v#serial designation j#BTW THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME HATE YOU J NEVER !!!#tessa james elliot#doll#doll md#lizzy#lizzy md#doll murder drones#lizzy murder drones#flesha#eyestrain#ik last one isnt everyone thats just everyone i wanted to draw#wish i had included a.lice ah well </3 shes famous to me#my favorite is cyn ofc but after i struggle choosing i like everyone too much !!!#god i thought V was dead for good.like it just felt there was nowhere she could come back bUT NO SHE BEAT THE DEAD ALLEGATIONS!!!#...WAHHH IM GONNA MISS N N UZI TOO!!! ILL MISS THEM ILL MISS THEM ILL MISS THEMMMMMM
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COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO
synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues
a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33
”holy shit!”
the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.
”satoru, it’s too early for this...”
”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.
your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.
(snowing.)
with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.
satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.
maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.
it’s beautiful.
satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.
all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.
the first snow of the year.
and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.
there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.
like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.
and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.
(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.
and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)
high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.
and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.
a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.
he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.
— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.
satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.
(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)
”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.”
he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.
it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.
so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.
satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.
”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.
”never.”
a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.
a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”
and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.
his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”
his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.
he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.
when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.
you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.
hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.
satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.
because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.
what more could a man want?
”hey, idiots!”
the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.
”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”
”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.
suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there.
(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)
with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.
”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.
then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”
satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”
a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”
a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”
and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”
satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.
despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”
”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.
”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”
satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.
suguru sighs.
”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”
his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.
he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.
when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.
the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.
(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.
and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)
suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.
when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.
that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.
”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.
satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.”
but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”
a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”
you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”
a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.
and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.
his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.
and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.
(i'm sorry, you big baby.)
satoru grins.
you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.
”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”
he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”
”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”
”and don’t play dumb, either.”
a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”
said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown.
and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.
”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”
satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”
you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”
”hmph.”
suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.
and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.
that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.
this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.
(married.)
sometimes he still can’t believe it.
”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.”
and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.
and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.
your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.
his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.
(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)
and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.
a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.
and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.
”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”
”— you’re disgusting.”
the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.
and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.
you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.
then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?”
”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.
silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.
”… santa can only do so much, baby.”
two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.
”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.”
you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”
”of course not! blasphemy.”
a moment passes.
”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”
a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.
then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow.
he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.
and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.
he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice.
for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?
(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)
— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.
it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.
and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.
warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter.
he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.
and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.
he hopes it never goes away.
#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3#i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother#i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u#but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it#and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child#im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#gojo fluff#geto fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#……… thats… a lot of tags.
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the steady, warm palm pressed to his neck stills some of the anxiety roiling in his chest. abel's frame leans into the touch, eyes trained on elias as he watches him work through his words. he feels nauseous, stomach clenching as sees the lump form in elias' throat, watches him fight past it. it makes abel want to cry, seeing him like this. the urge to wrap his arms around the other bubbles up in him, so strong he has to fight to keep his hands in his lap. " what do you want, elias ? " the question is posed quietly, carefully. abel is afraid of the answer, because it's clear what it will be. elias wants something public, someone to have on his arm and take from party to party. someone to marry someday, maybe. that someone will never be abel. at elias' relenting words, a breath of relief rolls over his lips. abel gives a sad, grateful smile, though it melts away at the other's next utterance. leather-clad hands reach for elias' pressed against his neck, guiding it down until he can hold it in his lap. he can't bring himself to look at the other, instead staring at their hands, tangled together, one. " i-- i'm not seeing anyone else, or anything like that. " he risks a glance at elias, and instantly knows that that won't be enough. " we're-- together, as far as i'm concerned. just- in secret. "
He's the first to ease the tension in the limousine. A doting, certain hand pressed against Abel's neck to soothe away the mounting tension. He's aware of the risks, and equally aware of his privilege. Elias Hatzfeld has been beloved and honored all his life. Would it change if people knew he was in love with a man, who happened to be his assistant? Swallowing the lump in his throat, he shrugs. "I guess I just want what everyone else has." His sister could bring around her thick-headed, gold digging boyfriend. But Abel - who properly loves and cares for the Hatzfeld's? It's different, suddenly.
"I don't want us to settle for less than what we want." But Elias has never asked Abel the question, has he? Was this just an affair between a boss and his assistant, to wash away after the summer rolls around? Was this made of lasting stuff? Biting his lip, he concedes. "Alright. Okay. Yes." He agrees. "We don't have to tell anyone anything. But," always a but, and he peers at Abel's blue eyes seriously. "You gotta give me something, baby. What are we?"
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Prompt 295
So, maybe Danny should have been more specific when he said he wanted to get reincarnated, because this? Is not an ideal situation.
See he’s fine with being a clone, really, but uh, apparently the scientists want to terminate him- which, like dude, he’s not even melting or actively dying! So what if he failed at their tests, his body is three, give him a break!
Well, at least it’s given him certainty in getting out, because these are Not good people. He wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt and- hold up, another clone? Brother? Two brothers? One aged up, one in the middle of it- since his own aging-up failed past three?
Oh hell no, they can’t experiment on his brothers, those are his brothers and living people just as much as he is! Time to break out- and he’s taking those papers thank you- and gonna’ grab his… he’s gonna’ call them his triplets because they’re the same age, just aged differently.
Now hold his hand, they’re runnin’ to the mountai- oh thank fuck, the physically-oldest of them can fly. To the mountains while they have the cover of night and they can figure things out. At least his life isn’t boring yet…
#DCxDP#DPxDC#Prompts#Danny is Match’s & Kon’s brother au#Match is a superman/wonder woman clone- hence why his power is too much for him to control at first#Kon is his canon luthor-clark test tube baby#Danny is a superbat clone#He’s also physically the youngest at 3 while Connor is 10 & Match is 16#The Heroes *BARELY* miss the trio’s escape#The three of them looking at the science papers:#Kon: I can’t read yet :(#Danny with lisp from baby kryptonian fangs: I can read the files for us :D#Match is huddled in the cave they found because he can’t deal with sunlight yet#He’s also the most traumatized thanks to being the first clone & used for testing#& will shove the smaller behind him when they finally get found while silently snarling#He is Not letting them Terminate his Tiny Brothers#Meanwhile the heroes who were Not expecting the clones to be so Baby are trying not to externally freak out#clone danny
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[Day 322]
{}, the Housemaiden, the Fighter, the Magician, the Baker
Going back to isal for a bit I miss these sillies
#dddaily4sherin#giggs#grian#geminitay#impulsesv#goodtimeswithscar#skizzleman#i mean what who are these people /SILLY#In Stars and Lives#or is it :3#in hindsight maybe we should've lined them up in the giggs order HEKAHJRHRKW#WELP TOO LATE#I MISS THE SILLIESS THEYRE HAVING FUN AND G IS DOING TOTALLY FINE👍#dont mind the caption change if u saw it :3 just thought of a less boring caption HASJEAHEA TUMBLR EXCLUSIVE
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The Sun ☀️ and The Moon 🌕
#I miss them I miss the robo gay GOOBIES BWAH;;;;;;;#MY SILLY JESTERS#I love them sm they mean allot to me#the only clowns I’m not afraid of gngngn#I make moon a lil different hes bigger and larger cause he’s the security bot at night#But but uhm uhm you guys can send asks of Sun n moon too from my au if you wanna;3;#Art#my art#fnaf#fnaf security breach#fnaf dca#dca fanart#sunrise#moondrop#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#fnaf au#fnaf override
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I guess I'll grow used to the new me, horns and all. The people will see a curiosity, maybe even a beast hungry for their souls. But I will slay their monsters, keep them safe, and one day they will see The Blade of Frontier again!
#bg3edit#gamingedit#bg3#baldur's gate 3#wylledit#wyll ravengard#karlach cliffgate#userewbie#edits#i was missing his sweet little face#his fear of being shunned once again by the ones he wants to protect! what do you know of his strife!#and him and k never fails to make me cry ugh#can't wait for my origin run and their romance even if i love them as friends so much too#recording this in the swamp was a fcking mistake coloring wise but here we are#a lil pick me up during these honestly truly harrowing times
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studying for a degree in yapology
#its been 3 years since ive drawn them together.... thinkfast i miss u#why do they keep killing david i just want them to be boyfriends and i want them to be happy#i spent way too long on this considering how dead this fandom is 😭 i dont want to talk about it#thinkfast#tommy shepherd#david alleyne#young avengers#marvel#marvel comics#marvel fanart#young avengers fanart#tommy shepherd fanart#david alleyne fanart#art#artists on tumblr#comics#my art#fanart
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he’s been down bad since the 50’s idk what to tell you
#hal jordan#barry allen#green lantern#the flash#halbarry#it’s been way too long i miss them every day 💔💔#my art lol#probably not a good idea to post this at 3 in the morning. but#ALWAYS draw shorts jordan. *blows a kiss to the sky* for soup
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AUGH I’d love to see more time looping odile if possible,,,,, how do you think she’d like; “devolve” over each of the acts as compared to Siffrin over time :O
ok im gonna be honest i did like portrait edits months ago and just never finished them. so here you go
act 3:
act 5:
#some of them are still missing... I'll edit this post if I finish them as well#isat#isat spoilers#odile loops au#day 108#isat odile#i'm too lazy to individually export them in transparent atm...#tell me if yall ever need it#edit: I FORGOT TO ANSWER THE QUESTION#I mean yeah technically the portraits work but I do have Thoughts about this#I just think that throughout the loops odile becomes more. annoyed. and irritated#Like by act 3 fighting isn't really amusing anymore#dying/getting frozen is. ah. welp#But by act 5 she's just speedrunning#Just super irritated. like die already i've got variables to test#act 3 frozen is a momentary rest; the break is nice and she knows she can get back next loop; it's fine. act 5 is ugh seriously#tired. annoyed. unamused. what a waste of time#anyways wait how long has it been since I posted#(sees date of last post) OH. um#sorry guys I've been busy job (internship) hunting#will I post more from now on? No promises <3#Thank you for sticking around nontheless... I appreciate all the stuff yall send in my inbox <3#isat au
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After doing some research on the types of pets people had in ancient Greece, I'd like to imagine that Helen is the sort of person who has a whole menagerie of birds — and she loves each and every one of them very, very much.
It fits well with her being good at mimicry, you know. Talking and imitating and singing with her beloved birds 💜
Close up under the read more:
I had to include that one necklace from the minoan 'saffron goddess' fresco because it's my favourite thing Ever
#helen of sparta#greek mythology#greek myth art#tagamemnon#birds#this started as a helen with birds drawing. then turned into a chance to put helen in mycenaean accurate clothing.#and THEN turned into a sort of hades game art study/sprite because playing with half lineart + half rendering is just too much fun#speaking of fun: I really enjoyed making this!! Once I got a bit experimentative it really came together. I'm happy with the outcome! ^w^#choosing what birds and how many was a challenge... in my mind Helen has dozens of birds and all sorts of species. truly a crazy bird lady.#but I decided to focus on a few for this. maybe another time i'll make a piece with a ridiculous amount of birds for fun >:) hehe#I cant remember the source but I know I read somewhere that people would specifically train magpies to say hello/greet guests#and I love that little factoid (and love magpies very much) so that was an immediate choice for me to feature here.#I also love doves and goldfinches. goldfinches sound so delightful and stand out so they were my 'songbird' choice.#and I'd like to imagine that one specific dove snuggles up on helen's shoulder all the time <3#the only bird that's truly missing here is an indian ringneck parrot (which I initially wanted to put on the shoulder but changed my mind)#so if you're like me and watch too many parrot videos. just know helen has one of them that can't stop talking and posing lmao#capri_art
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Guess I’m continuing the tradition of sliding in a Blups just before pride month ends just like last year lol (special shout-out to all the folks who tagged last year’s post with T4T 🏳️⚧️)
[Image description: Illustration of Lup and Barry from TAZ. They are dressed in casual wear, happily holding a trans pride flag over them as they smile happily at each other.
Lup is a slim elven woman with light brown skin, her brown hair is partially dyed a light pink, and held in a messy bun. She is wearing a red top with a golden phoenix pin, and a light-grey skirt with a thin bi-pride trim. She is also wearing a demiromantic themed bracelet.
Barry is pale older man with a chubby, stocky build, his hair is dark-grey with some salt-and-pepper, and is slightly pushed back. He is wearing a jean-jacket over his white t-shirt, adorned with the bi and demiromantic pins, and blue jeans.
End Description]
+Close-up cuz I love them 💖 (also, click for better quality, cuz oops)
#taz#the adventure zone#taz balance#lup taaco#barry bluejeans#blupjeans#pride month#<literally only made 2 arts for that this year oops lol#though three out of 4 characters are drawn with bi+demiro flags lol#3/4 for trans too so I guess it be like that lol. i am unfortunately very predictable#anw havent drawn blups in a while sobbing and wailing cuz I miss them 😭
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