#from the top of my head

[gielinos]

Someone asked me how would I describe my art style and I'm like ??? I don't know???

the best I can come up with is "autistic kid who grew up watching Disney films and had dreams of studying animation one day tries to mimic the pictures from her childhood"

Just curious while I give it more thought, how would you guys describe my art style? 👀

[hinamie]

to moving forward

[nightmares-voicemail]

Maris!Richard: What are your top 5 most embarrassing failures?

Richard

"I don't have to answ-"

Nightmare

"Yes you do~"

Richard

"Arghrhrhr dammit. Okay, in no particular order

Defeated by the stepladder

Loosing the Bee Miraculous to Sylvana

Just about everything while being El Chupacabra

Beaten up by the blind old lady

This ask

"Happy?"

[varpusvaras]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers !!

My wife <3 and my family and friends

The sea

Writing

Hiking in the North

Late summer nights

[sanatomis]

cw. none except satoru being disgustingly cute (part 2)

satoru isn’t used to people calling him anything other than his surname. gojo-san to most, gojo-sensei to others. it’s simple, and gets the job done.

only a handful of people stick to calling him by his given name. to them, he’s satoru. it’s easy, and rolls of the tongue, and he greatly prefers it over the sound of his surname. it makes him feel like an actual person.

satoru never entertained the possibility of being called anything else other than those two names. he didn’t think it would ever happen.

for once, he was glad to be proven wrong.

“tough day, pretty?” you ask gently, and he sighs with a nod as he throws himself into your opened arms. his body moulds easily into yours, and he lets out a heavy groan as he settles onto the couch with you. the groan is loud, and over-exaggerated.

it’s so satoru.

you have to stifle a giggle.

“everything went horribly wrong,” he grumbles, his voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “the higher ups were up my ass again, my students laughed at me again, and when i finally made it to that bakery you liked they were out of your favourite pastries so i couldn’t get them for you—again!”

“oh, my poor baby,” you coo, and gently push his bangs out of his face. he nods in agreement, faking an immense amount of sympathy for himself. “‘s okay, at least you tried, hm? i think that’s very sweet.”

satoru hums, as if he’s deeply thinking about your words. “’m still your baby?” he mumbles, deciding that’s the most important thing right now. his eyes briefly flutter shut, consumed by utter bliss as you play with the hairs on his undercut.

“mhm, still my baby.”

“yeah? what else am i?”

this time you do giggle. he does this sometimes. you aren’t exactly sure why—but on tough days, satoru likes to crawl into your arms and listen to you call him every cheesy nickname under the sun. it’s easily providable and makes him so very happy, so you always indulge him.

“my honey bun.”

“and?”

“my boo bear.”

“mhm.”

“my sweetheart.”

“yes?”

you laugh softly. “my mochi,” you coo, and pinch his cheek. it’s a little squished because he’s laying on your chest, but it emphasises your point.

he grins under your touch. it’s adorable.

“keep them coming, please?” he asks, and you do. you always do, unable to refuse him. especially when he asks so sweetly.

“my sugar cookie.”

“my muffin.”

“my baby cakes.”

“my angel.”

“my love.”

“my husband.”

“h—huh?” satoru stammers, looking up from your chest. he lays his chin on your sternum, baby blue eyes blinking up at you. they’re filled with awe, surprise, and utter glee. “that’s, i’m not. . .”

“just testing the title, baby,” you tell him, and continue playing with his hair. he bathes in your touch and you smile softly as he grabs and kisses the palm of your hand. “what do you think, hm?”

“i think you should call me it again.”

“oh?”

“mhm,” he mumbles.

“my dearest husband.”

“again.”

“my handsome husband.”

“again.”

“my sweet husband.”

“again, please?”

you hum, impressed. “my well-mannered husband.”

satoru chuckles, and lays back down on your chest. his white hair tickles against your skin, and he sighs in content.

“i think i want to be your husband for real.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he mumbles and nuzzles further into your hold. “y’ve got the same ring size still, right?”

“i sure do,” you say, a content smile on your lips as you watch him slowly doze off to sleep.

“hm, good to know.”

for satoru, those nicknames make him feel as if he’s something even greater than a person—it makes him feel yours.

he’s not just gojo, the strongest. he’s not just satoru, the at-times somewhat immature adult with the sweet tooth of a child.

he’s yours. your baby. your honey bun. your boo bear. your mochi. your boyfriend. your love. and for satoru, there’s no greater thing in the world than that.

[animutate]

ok animutation likers in the audience *crickets* do u think this would work for one be honest.

[starkitten101]

Made this in like a minute out of frustration over a couple memories. Is this anything

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they tried to rebrand as The Criminals but riz is literally the city council's treasurer and also turns out people in their late 20s don't really name their friend groups. so now they're The Intrepid Heroes

[arataka-reigen]

I'm trying to start a movement here

[ID: The first 3 images are edited versions of the "Let's take ibuprofen together" meme. The captions now say "Let's read shoujo together". They each show a person holding their hand out to the viewer; a character from the series Benigyokuzui, Mob from Mob Psycho 100, and Jerma. / end ID]

ID provided by @siroofington thank you so much

[charlietheepicwriter7]

"Grandfather."

Ra's knew who the boy was the moment he'd snuck into the room. He'd allowed the child--more man than child now, but everyone was a child compared to him--moments to steel himself while Ra's refrained from acknowledging his presence. The boy's breath was barely audible but unsteady, and a drop of something fell to the floor.

His grandson was injured. "Danyal," he greeted and finally gazed upon him for the first time in seven years.

Danyal had grown into his father's height, yet stayed lean in regards to his musculature. His black hair had grown out of the League-regulation haircut, held back in a messy braid. He held himself as strong as he could, but kept an arm wrapped around his stomach. His shirt--standard American teenage garb, he dismissed--was spotted with blood and he could see bandages poking out from under the cloth.

With great care, Danyal knelt before the Demon Head and recited the Oath of Loyalty.

Ra's watched.

The boy's tongue, fat with English, spoke the League's variant of Arabic with the grace of a mace to the head, yet his words were clear. He took his time speaking the oath, carefully sounding out words, working hard to avoid mispronunciation. The Oath in question was the older version, from before Deathstroke's insurrection, but Danyal spoke it with a calm certainty that it would be accepted.

And without a doubt, it would be accepted.

Talia's eldest son had been born from her body instead of through science, a mistake that nearly cost her the child and damaged him upon birth. While the best doctors in the world saved his life, Danyal Al Ghul would always be weak in a fight, always prone to illness, always struggling to excel. When it became clear that the boy couldn't become the next Demon Head, Ra's sent Talia to create a replacement while arrangements were made for her first child to be taught business and science, for the betterment of the League. Danyal, very much his father's child, thrived in his intellectual pursuits while Damian grew and developed into a budding assassin.

But Danyal was more like his father than he'd ever knew. Ra's couldn't miss the signs of one of his family turning away from the League. Not the mission--Danyal had written several university level papers defending the environment by the time the boy was 10--but Ra's methods...

Ra's had a conundrum. Danyal was a dedicated conservationist; once the boy was an adult, Ra's was certain he'd take the world by storm and bring the League to new heights. But if he forced his methods onto Danyal, he could create an enemy of him, just as his father was.

Ra's gave Danyal an offer; Danyal would be allowed to leave the League and live a normal life if and only if he faked his own death in such a way that reinforced Damian's loyalty to the League of Assassins.

Danyal had been hesitant at first, but past his test with flying colors. Instigating one of the more unstable assassins into organizing a coup, cutting the insurgents off near immediately, but "dying" protecting both his younger brother and mother. It was a masterful performance. Even Talia hadn't known about the deceit.

And yet, here he was, on his knees, pledging loyalty. Danyal knew what that meant, knew what he was returning to, which morals he would be allowed to keep.

"And what do you bring with you, child of no one?" Why should the League accept the return of this child, who left once before?

Danyal met his eyes. "I bring with me, my team, who are loyal to me and me alone. I bring with me, research surrounding the Lazarus Pits, in origins and further uses for the waters." Ra's raised an eyebrow, and Danyal smirked. "I bring with me, my knowledge, nurtured within this very home and sharpened in the world outside. I bring with me, my weapons, built with my own hands. I bring with me... my body, finally healthy and whole." He brought his head down to the floor, trembling with pain. "I bring my whole self to the Demon's Head, for Him to accept or reject."

Ra's smiled. "By the shadows that guard our order and the blood that binds us, I accept this oath. From this day forward, you are an instrument of the League, a harbinger of justice, and a weapon in the hand of Ra's Al Ghul."

Danyal returned to his feet, swaying percariously. He needed immediate medical attention. Despite this, he continued, "Long live the League of Assassins. Long live Ra's Al Ghul."

And he collapsed onto the floor.

[cat-eg]

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

i absolutely adore how open Edwin is to learning. there's a sort of expectation that characters from older eras would be very set in their ways and close-minded. however, Edwin, an Edwardian ghost, is not.

people have pointed out that in episode two, he told Crystal to ask Niko if the women in her family have a history of "hysteria." and then, in episode five, stopped himself from referring to Shelby's condition as such. he must have been told that it wasn't acceptable to claim women have that anymore, and he bettered himself.

Edwin was initially judgemental about Monty's interest in astrology, and told him so to his face. yet, we soon see him willingly reading the book that Monty gave him. he even offered to talk to Monty about astrology when attempting to reconcile with him.

naturally, he doesn't know much about modern technology, but he doesn't look down on it. during the Devlin House case, Edwin listened when Crystal explained something he didn't understand, even though he wasn't fond of her.

he respects Niko's interests greatly and wants to learn more about them, such as when he watched Scooby Doo with her, paying full attention and enjoying it rather than putting it down for being "childish" or whatever we may have expected. Edwin also accepted the sea glass from her, asking about its meaning.

Edwin is extremely clever, but also very humble about it. he doesn't feel insecure at all when someone else knows more than him when it comes to certain things, and i really love that.

[tenaint]

Rose 1.01 / Empire of Death 14.08

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan getting transported into pidw isn't "the system punishing him for being a lazy internet hater," but instead representative of "step 1 of the creative process: getting so mad at something you decide to go write your own fucking book" in this essay I will

[chokulit]

"Mostly void, sometimes stars."

and i don't remember exactly but "There is no such thing as a perfect pet. It onlh becomes perfect once you accept it for what it is."

Night Vale had some of the BEST one off quotes that would just suckerpunch you in the chest leave you breathless

Like the one that stuck with me was this one:

"when a person dies and no one will miss them, the mourning is assigned to a random human. This is why sometimes you just feel sad."

It's been almost 11 years... It haunts me in a good way

[yapperina]

rafayel domestic fic idea, but he's trying to get used to the reality where he's not alone anymore, and it's HARD. he spent so many years in empty houses and apartments, never feeling quite like home, haunted by the ghosts of you he had and didn't manage to keep

it's the small things that startle him the most. rafayel returns from a week-long business trip and there's no spoiled food in the fridge and you watered his plants. the jacket he dropped somewhere on the floor in his haste to get to the airport on time is now hanging from the back of a chair. you were there at some point and now you are not, but he can call you and look at you and hear your voice, because you are real and he has you again. sometimes he feels like this simple truth is too much to take in, completely overwhelmed by it