#awww this was fun

[sassycordy]

tag game !! thanks for tagging me @books-space-things :))))

were you named after anybody?

yes! it’s a pretty popular name in pop culture i think? so my parents say they pulled it from all over ahah. (i’m not taking about the name sam btw ahah)

when was the last time you cried?

yesterday lmfao. i’m rewatching scarlet heart ryeo for the millionth time and i still cry at every death scene/sad moment🥹 i’ve seen it 6 times and i KNOW what’s coming and yet i can’t help it </3

do you have kids?

what am i a child bride ??? no haha! give me like 10 years.

do you use sarcasm a lot?

hmmm yes & no? i do irl but obviously it’s kinda hard to tell online so i’ve stopped using it to avoid any confusion LOL.

what sports did you play/have you played?

oof i played baseball, american football, and did a little gymnastics when i was younger ahah. i stick to running nowadays tho. (and the occasional badminton🫶🏽)

what’s the first thing you notice in somebody?

clothes oop. and maybe eyes if i’m close enough to them ahah.

eye color?

dark brown😒 (would’ve settled for hazel or ANY color but mine are just pools of black ahah)

scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings!!! i am rly not a scary movie girlie despite my love for the spooky aesthetic ahah. also i hate just straight up angst

any special talents?

hmm. i’m pretty good at giving speeches (even though i fucking hate it lmfao). and editing ig aha.

where were you born?

a hospital <3

what are your hobbies?

reading, writing, running, and i’ve also been getting into gardening recently!

do you have pets?

i have a million (4 dogs) lol. although i’m actually a cat person so 🥲🥲

how tall are you?

… 5’2

favorite subject in high school?

history🫶🏽🫶🏽

dream job?

i used to be obsessed with being a spy when i was a kid ahah. like i had everything & anything i could potentially need on a “mission” in my purse. (i was rly into nancy drew as a kid so that should explain everything) so yea spy!

i literally never know who to tag on these things ahah but lemme tag @stargatelov3r @atlantis-scribe @nimuetheseawitch @portlandwithyou (there’s also like zero obligation to do this aahh)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

From the Neil Gaiman: Dream Dangerously :) (you can watch here in US or with US vpn :) <3) (or just this bit on youtube here :))

Terry Pratchett: Neil once said, 'Your fans all look jolly. And my fans all look as if they're about to commit suicide. Wouldn't it be nice if we could get them to marry?'

[awzominator]

The brightest of days have the darkest of shadows and he plays with them like shadow puppets

[madaqueue]

CRAWLING BACK TO YOU

playlists | 'do i wanna know' x hozier

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

themes/content: angst. alcohol consumption, a not-great breakup, sometimes you don't have to say 'i love you' to know it. 18+ MDNI (wk: 1.5k)

a/n: maybe putting this man in a situation will get me out of my writer's block

“Hi, baby,” Satoru’s slurred voice crackles through the speaker, cold metal held to your ear.

At least through the shitty phone you refuse to upgrade, he can’t hear your sigh from the other end. “Where are you?”

“I’m not telling,” he sing-songs, ending with a hiccup he can’t quite stifle.

Not that his answer really matters, only half playing through the otherwise-silent bedroom. You’re already up, groggily pulling on sweatpants and palming for the shape of your keys, lit by the tiny screen blinking his name.

“Well, don’t go too far. I’m on my way.” You hang up before he can complain (not that he would - if you had stayed on the call for a second longer, you would have heard the contented sigh slipping from his lips, a quiet ‘thank you’ that his microphone might have missed).

The bar is sticky and hot, uncomfortable at any time, but especially at 1:30 a.m. when you should be at home under soft sheets and moonlight. Shedding your coat does little to fix the air clinging to your skin like a vice as your eyes scan past neon lights, parsing through the blaring music for something familiar. A flash of white across the room, and your steps fall in a straight line.

When you place your hand between his shoulder blades (gently, of course - you know he startles easily), he manages to pull his head from the haven of his elbows, a temporary shelter along the wooden countertop.

“You came.” His grin is wild and unruly, only half there, but his eyes pierce through you all the same. You’ve always felt too bare under them; you tug your jacket on.

“Let’s go, Satoru.”

He doesn’t protest as you loop one arm around his torso, and lets you pull him to his feet. It’s always a bit of a balancing act to get him through the door, his lanky limbs colliding with yours, his shoes heavier than the rest of his body. Drunken giggles tumble into your ear from where his head rests atop yours, watching you kick his ankles away to keep him upright.

“Were you born with two left feet or something?” you grumble to yourself, muffled by the screeching chatter encasing you.

“Don’t think so,” he says earnestly. With a slow glance downward, he hums. “Nope. Right and left.”

You scoff to hide the giggle that threatens to escape. You wish he wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t charm you and force a smile, wouldn’t make you ache with forgiveness.

The night air is cold and welcome, finally letting your lungs expand fully for the first time in what feels like days, in spite of Satoru’s crushing weight on your shoulders. Opening his door first, he falls into the seat, enveloped by the familiar cloth, and you fasten his seatbelt before stepping into the driver’s side. In the confined space of the car, the smell of alcohol lingers on his breath, slowly making its way towards you, and you sniffle. The engine hums as you drive, roads and turns you know better than the veins coursing below your skin, ones that tingle under a watchful gaze.

With a quick glance, you find Satoru’s eyes lazily fixed on your own.

“You’ve got a staring problem,” you state.

“Just admiring the view.”

The thrum of your pulse picks up. You resent it.

“I still love you, y’know.”

The leather covering of the steering wheel creaks below your tightening grip. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” If you didn’t know him so well, you’d think he was teasing, playing coy, pushing your buttons until he finds the one that makes you force him out along the highway. Unfortunately, you know it’s genuine.

“Because.” You exhale. “Because you broke up with me.”

A groan is muffled beneath his palm, rubbing into his skin as if he could wipe the words away. It was mutual, you told your friends, who took it well, your parents, who didn’t, as you tried to hide the familiar stinging in your eyes, as though you hadn’t just emerged from the bathroom where the water ran cold from scrubbing salt stains off your cheeks.

“It doesn’t make it any less true.” When he’s forced to hear the click of the turn signal too many times against the silence, he continues. “And I didn’t wanna break up with you.”

Ah, his favorite excuse. It makes you grimace at the bitter taste rising in the back of your throat. ‘I don’t want this either,’ he said as you screamed and cried in his arms, as he held you until the worst of the shaking was over. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

“Whatever,” you acquiesce (he’ll never shut up if you don’t give him something to cling to).

(He only feels sane when he hears your voice. The silence aches for it; it tears at him from the inside out. If his agony could sound like you, he’d suffer like this forever.)

Before he can beg for more, his door opens. You reach across his waist to undo the seatbelt and toss his arm over your shoulders again.

In his hazy mind, he wonders how many times you’ve done this - he never really remembers this part, so it makes it hard to count. But there’s a fluidity as you shuffle towards the garage, punching in a code he never dared to change, as you wait the three seconds for it to rise just above his head and maneuver him inside.

And of course he doesn’t have to guide you towards the bedroom (he has to call it that now, ‘the’ bedroom; he thinks you got upset with him for calling it ‘our’ bedroom once, but that’s foggy, too).

With a huff you toss him onto the bed, every muscle uncoordinated, too out of it to scramble for the shreds of his dignity. Instead, he watches silently as you untie his shoes, unlatch his belt, unbutton his shirt. Even in just his boxers he doesn’t feel bare, not under your eyes, ones too gentle to cut.

“There’s water on the bedside table, and I put some crackers there, too. Please eat them.”

“M’sorry.”

“What?” You try to ignore the way your throat burns, the way your legs can’t move.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“Satoru, what-”

“That’s why.” When he finally removes the arm that had been shielding his face, those bright blue eyes are dull, clouded with tears. “That’s why I - hic - fucked it up. I wasn’t strong enough to protect you. I love you so much and I wasn’t strong enough.” I couldn’t risk anything happening to you, I was too dangerous, I would have gotten you hurt. I should have protected you, he wants to say, but the words get stuck in the thickness at the back of his tongue.

Some part of you, a part you tried to crush and kill and bury, claws its way out. You sit at the edge of the bed and rub his arm.

“It’s okay. I loved you, too.”

Loved. What a wretched thing past tense is. He wants to scream.

“No!” he cries, the sound weak and cracked. “I can’t…I can’t do anything but this, but love you. You’re the only one. And I ruined it.”

He makes no move towards you, curling into himself instead, sucking everything in until you’re captured by it, too. Your hands cradle his face, and let the tears spill over your fingers.

“I’m sorry I called you.”

The sobs have started to quiet, his breathing becoming less labored. He’s shaking less, now, with your skin on his.

“It’s okay.”

Your fingertips travel along his jaw, and you try to ignore how beautiful he looks with tears catching under the moonlight, how the comforter is stained darker beneath his cheeks. You try to ignore the way this hurts worse than any wound could, that you would have rather be killed for loving him than suffer through losing him. You try to ignore the way your heartbeat slows with your skin on his.

Through parted lips, his sleep-laden sighs fall steadier. His forehead is warm beneath your lips.

His protection is a funny thing, you’ve grown to realize. Maybe it’s his upbringing, or his job or his role or something else that has infiltrated and woven its way into his mind, but he seems to get it all twisted up, entangled in the ropes of it. How funny, to protect someone by alienating them; how funny, to make them watch as you destroy yourself.

But you don’t mind. Not really, not when you get to brush damp strands of hair from his neck, when you get to pull the blankets up to his shoulders and watch the soft sheets tickle his skin.

You don’t mind that you’ll always have a space in your heart with his absence carved out of it, that you’ll always leave your keys on the bedside table, that you’ll always come back, even if you’re crawling, your hands and knees will carry you to him. You have to protect him too, after all.

Softly, you whisper, “I’ll always answer your calls.”

[easyaesthetics]

Long time, no Akeshu memes

[spacebubblehomebase]

I LOVE YOUR AU SO MUCH GIVES ME HAPPY TINGLES AND I'VE BEEN HYPERFIXATING ON IT FOREVEER YOU ARE ONE AMAZING AU WRITER!! (me when author creates another amazing masterpiece) (you)!

THANK YOU! TvT I know I mostly post art, but writing is also one of my passions!!! So it's nice to know you're enjoying the story so far. 🥹🙏 Even though we just got past the introduction stage. But if you already like what we have for now, let me just say none of y'all are READY for when we reach the turning point of my AU! "The Dreamers" is the goal at the moment. That's all I'm gonna say. 😉✨ So as we wait, have this lil' doodle I made up just cause I remembered I can!

Till then! =D

-Bubbly💙

[huangrenjuns]

Renjun (feat. Jaemin & Chenle) ♡ DREAM SKETCH: Page #7

[leondevilart]

that one megavolt screencap + no helmet

[stachesainzcore]

Backstage Carlando and Ricci at the Mexican GP

[vaguely-concerned]

mourn watch rook can several times express such a beaming endearing eagerness to learn more of the spirit speaking side of necromancy that emmrich practices, so now I'm imagining rook training in that with him and sometimes when they get close enough to lucanis in battle they just hear spite go 'hehehe >:)' every time he and lucanis take down an enemy

[daclium]

could you draw Bill´s parents with baby Bill?

Yes :3

[12am-motivation]

UWAHHH BABIESSS 🥺🥺

[you-see-something-strange-here]

charlie bushnell is such a good actor that I actually forgot while watching that he was playing luke castellan, the person who is going to betray everyone, try to kill percy on multiple occasions, and will eventually become the vessel for the lord of time…

[whinypuppi]

ᶜʷ: ᵍⁿ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ , ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ , ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ , ²⁰⁰⁶ ᵍᵒʲᵒ

plotline: “you get badly wounded and gojo cleans you up.”

i’m kinda disappointed the choso one didn’t take the cake for my poll, so he’ll definitely be coming up next :3

you were a grade two sorcerer—beneath Gojo, your boyfriend, yet you still would try to pass him up by always trying to take on curses stronger than you to prove you could work hard too. he’d always tell you to be careful, but you disregarded him. today was the day your carelessness caught up to you.

you were stupid for going out of your way to fight a special grade curse—even insisting on going alone when you and gojo always went together! he almost called you out for it, but he knew how competitive you were and decided to let you do your own thing.

yeah, that was a mistake. while he was fighting a curse himself, he received a call from suguru that he found you hurt after attempting to take it down. he was in shock and rushed to kill his own, wasting no time and clasping his hands together to teleport into your dorm. luckily, you were there—safe with geto sitting at the end of your bed.

“how bad is it?” gojo asked hastily, coming closer to look at your exhausted form.

suguru turned to look at him with almost a frown resting on his face, “as bad as you’d expect a sorcerer of their level to be hurt by a special grade.” gojo clenched his jaw, followed by his fists. he bent down to look at you, rubbing your cheek softly with his thumb. geto hadn’t seen satoru like this…ever. he wasn’t making any jokes, and he didn’t have that stupid smile plastered on his face.

“sa-toru…” you mumbled, coughing and clutching your stomach in pain.

“baby! are you okay?”

“i was stupid.” you could hardly look at him, but he tilted up your chin until you did.

“yeah,” he started, “you were. but you’re okay. that’s all i care about.” he pulled you into a tight embrace, and you weakly hugged back. he let you go when you sharply gasped from the sudden pressure on your wound.

suguru looked away from the two of you and began to stand, shoving his hands in his pockets before giving satoru a small, reassuring smile. “she’ll be fine.”

gojo nodded, waving geto off as he walked out. gojo might’ve almost believed he was in worse condition than you—considering he had huge bags hanging under his eyes, his hair was messied, and he didn’t smile as much as he used to. it didn't sit right with him, but he never questioned it.

“did suguru bandage you up?” you grunted, holding your side, and he let a hand on your shoulder linger as if to say he was there for you.

“mm—yeah. they're under my clothes.”

“can i see? i could use reverse cursed technique.” he suggested, brushing a stray hair from out of your face.

“you don't hav'ta do that. seriously.” you lifted your shirt up enough to reveal your bandages that were soaked in blood despite geto having just applied them. “hell, that's bad. are you sure—”

“'m fine. can you change them for me?” he didn't push you, only nodding and helping you stand up while shushing you when you hissed out in pain.

i know,

i know.

i got you.

he mumbled as he placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, unraveling the bandages around your stomach before throwing them away. he grabbed the spares suguru left on the table and wrapped them around you—listening carefully so you didn't wince or make any noises of discomfort.

when it was over, he sighed of relief and let you lay back down. “feel better?”

“mhm, thank you, satoru.” you still seemed out of it, and it left him confused. in reality, you were completely embarrassed. you felt weak compared to your boyfriend. your impulsiveness was your downfall, and now you were helpless—laying in bed wounded to be tended to by the strongest.

“d'you want some ibuprofen? i get killer headaches all the time, so there's some in my dorm.”

“..can you just lay with me?” he blinked, but slowly nodded as he processed your words.

“'course i can.” he got in bed next to you, his head resting on one of your spare pillows. his hand trailed over to your stomach, not putting any pressure on it, just rubbing small circles back and forth to sooth you. he always did that for you when your cramps were horrible, but it felt comfortable even now.

“'m sorry i can't be better.”

“..what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean.”

“i don't.” you scanned his features to see if he was lying, but he really looked puzzled. was he that oblivious? “i'm weak.”

he scoffed, nearly rolling his eyes. “weak? you?”

“yeah.” those six eyes that always seemed to bore into your soul looked honest and calm.

“that isn't true. and that's coming from the strongest.” maybe there was more he wanted to say, but you knew he was bad at feelings. he knew he was bad at feelings. even if there were unspoken words between you two, the eye contact you always shared might've been enough.

“trust me. you're better than you think.” he pressed another kiss to your face—this time right on your lips. “even if you were weak, i'd still protect you. that's my job, and i love you.”

a shade of blush rose on your cheeks and you looked away. gojo was quite the charmer, and eye contact was hard when you were nervous. he thought it was cute. “..don't say things like that.”

“whaaaat? you don't like when i get all cheesy?” he grinned, and you pursed your lips in a pouty way.

“i love you too, satoru gojo.” a mumble, yet he still heard.

“i know.” he never expected of you to say it back, but he loved when you did. “so...about that ibuprofen?”

“sure.”

[mucseszter22-blog]

Fun fact:

Did you know that dolphins have names for each other? They use unique whistles to identify and call out to individual dolphins, almost like calling each other by name.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

satosugu get into very tense debates about what kind of animal you’re most like btw