#but yeah stay tuned

[kacievvbbbb]

Look how sad Yuuji is at the thought that Gojo could ever think he was forgettable 🥺. Gojo is his sensei and Yuuji loves his sensei, so much.

And Yuuji knows what it is like to feel like one cog in the never-ending curse machine, easily replaceable when broken and that's fine for him (at this point) but he would never let any of his friends think they were replaceable, EVER.

And so I actually don't care what Gege thinks; even it is in the way only one cog can only remember another, Itadori Yuuji will always remember Gojo Satoru.

[junii-moony]

[moylis3]

bro changed the subject upd: lassie`s version

[fbfh]

makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader

wc: 1.5k

pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader

warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is

summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.

song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku

a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol

tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah

Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him. 

Until now.

“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.

“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”

You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.

“You are in serious need of a facial.”

Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that. 

“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.” 

You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband. 

“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.

“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle. 

“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.

“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly.  Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face. 

“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle. 

“Hyaluronic acid.”

Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.

“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?” 

“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.

“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”

You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet. 

You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.

“What does that do?”

He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful. 

“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.” 

That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.

You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.

“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.

“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”

“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face. 

Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life. 

“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. 

“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.

“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”

You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.

“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting. 

“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?” 

You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little. 

“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”

[wormdebut]

Give me scary metal head rock star Eddie Munson and his best friend sapphic pop princess icon Chrissy Cunningham. I need Eddie Munson absolutely bodying HOT TO GO during one of Chrissy’s shows.

[inktho]

Leo/need 🌠

[anemonet]

pro tip: you can always put the bugs in little outfits :thumbsup:

[orkazh-arts]

But there is another truth, that's much simpler. ✨

[kriskukko]

lit up

[daeyumi]

💫🌟 From the Heavens (Eclipse the Moon) 🌙✨

[Cycle of the Stars]

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

ohhh for the event can I get Vil and prompt 3 with reader as the ghost? ^_^

Words Unsaid; Vil Schoenheit

Content; Gender-neutral reader, angst, pining

Content Warning; Reader death (not described)

Word Count; 700+

A/N; Hi Haru! ... I decided to lean more into angst; I am so sorry Vil.

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Vil’s hands were shaking, and he tried to make a sound but his voice was caught in his throat. 

His breath came out in white puffs, the Pomefiore lounge had become freezing cold as the fire died out. Dim light from the filtered moonlight cast everything in silver and greys. Long shadows crept across the floor like they were reaching out for him.

Vil.

It was barely audible, but Vil could hear the gentle hiss of his own name whispered into his ear, and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He took in a deep breath though, trying to calm his racing heart which betrayed how affected he was by his current circumstances.

He closed his eyes, shutting out everything else and focused solely on what he could hear. And with how on edge he was, he could have heard a pin drop. But he didn’t hear anything. That was the issue, alongside everything else.

Normally he would have been able to hear the muffled snoring of his fellow dorm members, or the gentle ticking of the clock, or even the standard sounds that an older building may make. But he heard nothing. Only the steady thump thump of his heart in his ears.

Vil opened his eyes again, and he stared at the figure that was now standing within arm’s reach of him.

It was you, but not as Vil knew you.

You floated closer towards him, and Vil dared not to move.

Ghost, spectre, phantom. That was what you now were.

But he had seen you that very day. Still very much alive. Still breathing.

“What happened,” he whispered, taking a step forward, trying to close the distance. 

You moved back, and looked him in the eyes as tears fell down your cheeks. And then you vanished, the fire coming back to life, and all the sounds coming back.

Vil raked his hands through his hair, trying to come to some reasonable answer for why you were here, why you were a ghost. And he found himself running as fast as his legs would carry him, coming to a halt at Ramshackle.

He knocked at the door, but there was no answer. He knocked again and called your name. But all he was answered with was silence, and a sense of dread taking hold.

Please forgive me.

He knocked the door down with his magic, and made his way into the house. Vil looked in every room of the mansion, but all he found was dust; even Grim was nowhere to be seen.

This is a nightmare— No it isn’t, you know that. But how he wanted this to be nothing more than just a simple nightmare. If only it were as easy as that.

His breath came out in white puffs again, and everything stilled like time itself was frozen.

“Please,” Vil could barely recognize his own voice, desperation was something he was not well acquainted with, “tell me.”

You stayed out of sight though and stared at Vil, wanting nothing more than to embrace him. To feel his warmth one more time. To tell him something that had been weighing heavy on your chest for months.

You never had the chance, always being pulled in every which way or dealing with one problem or another. And now? 

… it would not serve either of you any good. It would only cause more heartbreak, a tragedy that belonged in a play really, instead of reality.

Vil clenched his fist and rolled back his shoulders, “You’re still here, so you have something left that must be important. Let me help you.”

Something left, was in fact, someone.

Vil had always been outside of your reach, a star high up in the sky, and that distance was now further than ever.

That’s why you said nothing of your own feelings about him.

That’s why you said nothing, leaving the words unsaid.

“You can’t. Please, forget about me.”

Vil wouldn’t forget you. He would never forget about you, the person that he could be his entire self around.

Perhaps it was friendship, but something that screamed from his chest that it wasn’t.

And he would never get the chance to see what could be.

~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @ithseem @moonsoup01637 @lucid-stories @syrenkitsune @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

[worblewobble]

more assorted owb things. dala's from about a month ago

[ricky-mortis]

I was inspired by @tapestryoftrauma ‘s wonderful writing, so here’s a drawing of Mark Chasity from his fic called Sink Into Me

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

okay okay okay I know we have the explicit ace and aro rep in Sif and Mira BUT have you considered

Sex neutral ace Isa (that's a very neutral reaction to "drawings of people doing fun things" you've got there. Very neutral. Surprising for someone who's very easily flustered)

and aromantic M'dame Odile! Bonding earring conversation where she says it's not really her thing, anyone? Sounds to me like everyone in this cast is aro and or ace.

[ctrl-lupin]

Two men stuffed into a clown car

[glitchedcosmos]

Sonic the sparky guy and his team of sparky and leafy fellas

Next up: tails