#a goofy goober if you will | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

classickatze · 11 months ago

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MORE KEATON PROPAGANDA!!!!

Propaganda

Omar Sharif (Funny Girl, Lawrence of Arabia)—Dark and thrilling, strange and sweet, honey in your ear, spice in your mouth, he was Sherif Ali the Arab, Yuri Zhivago the Russian, Colonel Grau the German and much much much more, here's to the one and only Omar Sharif---- Pharaoh of romance!!! (I'm sorry Im stealing lyrics from the song "Omar Sharif" but it ain't lying!)

Buster Keaton (The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Jr.)—For me Buster’s hotness comes not just from his physical beauty but in the constant surprise and contradictions of the man, he’s simultaneously delicate/rough, feminine/masculine, confident/vulnerable, 5foot5 pretty face with an unexpectedly deep voice, at first glance you think oh he’s a cute little thing and then he takes his top off and it’s Superman abs underneath. He was intensely shy in social situations but had no hesitation in jumping off the top of a building. He famously never smiled on screen* but he exudes warmth and joy and laughter. He created some of the most beautiful, intelligent movies ever made but refused to acknowledge his own genius and talent as an artist, instead maintaining that all he wanted to do was make people laugh. If he was here in reality competing in this poll he would give it 100% but he would not be at all bothered if he didn’t win. And that’s why he’s the hottest vintage man. A vote for Buster is a vote for all that is good and decent in the world 💕 (*he did smile on camera occasionally despite his own assertions to the contrary 😄)

This is one of four polls in the tournament quarterfinals. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

THIS POLL LASTS FOR 24 HOURS.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Buster Keaton propaganda:

"Just look at his freaking face...."

This entire Tumblr page was submitted

This post

This video

"And for those who have never heard it, here’s his lovely voice in action: link"

Submitted: Link to Buster Keaton car stunts

Submitted: BK fancam

Submitted: quotes about BK video compilation

"Ripped body, gorgeous unique face, beautiful personality too"

youtube

Omar Sharif propaganda:

"he and Peter O'Toole didn't have the heaviest "we're fucking" energy in Lawrence of Arabia for nothing!"

"Additional Omar Sharif propaganda (I am counting as propaganda both the way he looks and the way Peter O'Toole is looking at him.)"

#he is my silly little guy #a goofy goober if you will #buster keaton #keaton sweep

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gojoed · 2 years ago

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A HOUSE THAT SMELLS LIKE HOME. | gojo x reader. | 2k words

He was a hard working man.

Following the words of the elder people he disliked immensely, and doing their bidding. They had been running him down to the bone even more these past few weeks. Gojo was a person who didn’t like showing his fatigue but it couldn’t help but show itself without his permission.

His usual quick and irritating quips were slowing down, only offering a smile at times. The bags under his eyes had grown increasingly more apparent with each night, barely a few hours of sleep before the sounds of his phone waking him up and demanding him to go to work.

And Gojo has been living off of sweets for the past few days. Not that he normally doesn’t do that but the time saved for lunch with you or his students were cut short as he was yet again sent off. And dinner was no exception. A half eaten plate would become more of an occurrence with him rushing through the door.

You decided enough was enough when you came home one day. All the lights were off, the structure was silent on the inside just as it was on the outside (you lived in a calm neighborhood close to the school.)

The only light source were the streaks of sunlight peeking through the slits of the curtains, most of them closed; some of them were left open to let the house get air. And one of those streaks of light seemed to land on a head of white hair.

Gojo was sleeping, if you could really call it that. His whole body took up the entire couch, with a blanket roughly thrown on himself. His work jacket was left laying on the floor, he must have gotten home not too long ago then.

His snores were clear and loud, he only ever did when he really was tired. Getting closer to him and leaving your things behind at the door, you could now see that not only was he snoring but also drooling onto the cushions. Poor thing was exhausted.

You ran a single finger across his forehead, lightly removing his hair from his face and tucking it as best you could behind his ear. You let another finger join the other, running them along his jawline to down his neck. He didn’t stir from his sleep. Gojo never settled as a light or deep sleeper. At night it varied, where one night a single creak could make his eyes snap open or where even the loudest of shouts couldn’t wake him up.

And the tired Gojo Satoru that was left at your kind mercy was deep in sleep, off in dreamland. You worried for him, not that a curse could leave him for dead but that his own disregard for his own wellbeing could end up killing him. He always put others before himself, taking care of his own; even if to others it didn’t seem like that.

And that worry only peaks when you hear a soft buzz on the floor.

Thankfully it wasn’t enough to wake him up, so you quietly took his phone out of his jacket without stopping your fingers from playing with the ends of his hair.

It was one of the higher ups again, practically demanding that Satoru had another job to do.

Anger rose up in your body, but you didn’t let it control you. Only sending a message reading ‘He won’t be taking it’, you shut his phone off. Was it a little harsh? Just a bit. But they deserved it, Gojo was not a machine.

He was a human, with needs and wants, just like any other person.

Standing up, you fixed the blanket that was roughly covering him up and went to change. You thought about waking him up to take a bath, but he needed sleep.

So you took a loose shirt of his and a pair of sweatpants and set it over to where he was sleeping. He was still drooling, still snoring, only having shifted a little. Good.

Next was food. Gojo had been living off of unhealthy food for some time now, so something soft could help settle his stomach from the contrast of street food and an uncanny amount of sweets. White curry, which was a favorite of his ever since he went to Hokkaido and tried it, seemed to fit for tonight.

Chicken katsu would be accompanying the curry, since he needed the protein.

Roughly an hour into cooking you felt long arms circle around your torso and tighten. It nearly gave you a heart attack, the arms pulling you slightly away from the stove where you held chopsticks and chicken was cooking on the heated pan.

“Shit Satoru, give me a warning next time.”

“Potty mouth.”

His head was resting on top of yours. He was taller than most people, so his neck was slightly arching downwards. No doubt giving him a bit of pain, but it seemed he paid no mind to it.

“Whatcha cookin’, honey?”

You hummed, “Chicken katsu right now, we’re eating white curry tonight.”

It was Satoru’s turn to hum, burying his face now into the nape of your neck, giving it small nips. You leaned backwards, bumping into him as if to say ‘quit it’. He knows you didn’t mean it harshly, so Satoru only hummed again and faced towards the food on the stove.

“It smells good.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely, yeah.”

You both stood there, silently appreciating each other as it had been some time since you’ve spent time like this. Satoru ends up softly swaying the two of you side to side, playfully pinching at your skin that his hands could reach.

“Yknow, it felt nice to wake up to the smell of your cooking.”

That comment made your smile falter just a little bit. Knowing his past, you knew he had grown up with barren walls and very little happiness. The clan where he had gotten his name did not treat him with love. The only smell of food he would ever get was the food that was delivered to his room. No one to eat with, no one but the four white walls that enclosed his room.

But with you, Gojo had learned things. He learned that dinner was not a time of silence, but a time of noise. The clinking of tableware, the sounds of voices conversing. And the feeling of contentment hanging and infecting the air. To him, a house that smelled like home was one where he could find you cooking.

Taking a deep breath in you calmed yourself and told Satoru to go take a bath,

“But I'm hungry.”

“The rice is still cooking ‘toru, so go take a bath in the meantime, ok?”

“But what if I don't want to take a bath?”

“Satoru, you stink.” The tone of your voice being playful.

“I do not! I smell great, for your information.”

And he did, even with the days of only showering quickly and hastingly going to bed he still smelled good. Like rain water, and something deep that just smelled like him. But if fatigue had a smell, you would say it was lingering on his body.

“Doesn’t matter stinky, now go bathe.”

He whined, but reluctantly began pulling away from the heat your bodies created.

“Promise you won’t forget about me?”

“It's hard to forget you, Satoru.”

“I’m going away to bathe, all alone, it’s scary when I'm all alone.”

“Want a kiss to stay safe then?”

That made him smile ear to ear, taking your chin and letting his lips clash softly with yours. Satoru kissed gently, he kissed roughly, and he kissed as if he was putting his whole heart and soul into it. And he did. Everything he did to you and with you was everything to him.

Giving your side a hard but playful pinch, he left you with a sore spot and went over to the bathroom to bathe (taking the clean clothes you left near him).

By the time Satoru has returned, food had already been plated and set onto the table. A sight he would never grow tired of seeing. He happily slid over to where you were standing, leaning on the counter checking your phone.

He reattached himself to your previous position, draping himself all over you and practically shielding you from everything else that wasn’t him.

“I’m back, did you miss me?”

“Terribly so.”

Satoru grunted and pulled you with him over to the table. Fighting against the monstrosity of a man would prove useless, you learned that out the hard way multiple times before. He let you go to be able to sit down, taking his own seat that was next to you. Why should I sit so far away from you, it’s better this way! Was his argument some time ago when Satoru said he wanted to eat next to you.

His hair was slightly wet, you could tell by the water droplets that had caught themselves into his shirt. The collar being dotted with dark spots from his bangs. You decided to say nothing, as the sight of Gojo Satoru grabbing onto his chopsticks and anxiously digging into his food was something that could leave you content for days. But your growing hunger made your stomach make noise, so you followed after him.

“Mmm, I love the way you make this curry.”

“And after only looking at the recipe once.”

“Show off.”

“But you still love it.”

“Of course I do! White curry is way better than regular curry.”

“That’s only because you have an unhealthy affection towards dairy, ‘toru.”

“Hokkaido milk is amazing, are you- perhaps jealous?”

“Satoru, I’d have to be pretty weird to be jealous of dairy.”

The rest of dinner was eaten the way Satoru liked it, with you.

Dishes had taken a little longer to wash, as a water fight ensued, with a plate almost breaking but being cleverly rescued by Satoru’s infinity. You had tasked him with cleaning up the spilled water on the floor while you dried the newly washed dishes and put them away. My new name should be Cinderella now, so cruel to me, my own spouse, he pouted.

Well that was Gojo Satoru for you.

By the time the kitchen was cleaned, night had already fallen. No more sunlight peeked through the curtains, only faint moonlight and streetlights. Lights within the house had been turned on as well; a warm glow that emitted from them.

And now, the both of you were in your living room, Satoru laying his whole body on top of you like a sheet. His head resting on your sternum while he faced the tv. You had placed the blanket he was using earlier to cover now the two of you. The tv was playing a movie, but only a few minutes in, not even twenty: you could feel Satoru’s breathing start to get even deeper.

You nudged him lightly, feeling a little bad about it when he jumped a bit and made his chin now rest on your chest to look at you.

“You wanna move to the bed now, sleepyhead?”

Satoru didn’t respond until after he yawned, complaining after you said he needed to brush his teeth.

“No, I don't want to. I’m comfortable here.”

“You sure, it’s bigger than the couch, baby.”

He hummed, moving his hand that tucked under him like a cat would and poked your cheek.

“I’m more than happy to sleep here, if it’s with you.”

Raising your own hand, you cupped his face. The face of the man you fell in love with, the man who bore himself to you.

“Ok, just don’t complain when you have back pain.”

“Dummy you ruined the moment.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Go to sleep, Satoru”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

He was a hard working man. But the best payment he could ever receive, was to be able to come back home to you.

#satoru <33 #my writing #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x y/n #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #was this written on a whim? yes.#but it's been baking in the brain oven for awhile.#THIS TOOK THREE HOURS YOU GOOFY GOOBERS

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