#it is one if u really imagine

[padfootastic]

can’t help but think of how, if we choose to go by sirius’ characterisation as a private, arrogant teen who only lets a select few into his circle, sirius’ post-azkaban life just have been such an utterly humiliating experience for him.

especially OoTP. when he has all these near strangers in his childhood house, that he hated and loved and ran away from and couldn’t ever escape. if he spent his entire pre-azkaban existence building a cold and aloof persona, not letting people know what his home life had been like, then to have all of these people get a front row seat to it because of kreacher and portrait walburga’s shenanigans must have been near unbearable. to have the entire order, including snape whom he disliked and mistrusted, hear the kinds of names he’s being called.

not only does he have to deal with the retraumatisation of his childhood, but also the fact that he’s flayed open for everyone to see. it’s not only his freedom, innocence, dignity that has been snatched from him but his privacy also. it’s such a cruel thing to experience, on top of everything else.

to have literal children, his godson who he has been kept away from all this while, whom he presumably wants to be able to look up to him, to have him see into the deepest parts of his soul. to have to be so weak in front of him. not only is he subjected to such vileness but he also cannot do anything about it.

sirius has not had a moment of peace in all the time we knew him. it is indignity upon indignity that is heaped onto him. every other character has gotten a moment of respite but him. it fully breaks my heart.

[starlightnavis]

okay i cannot find a yaoi paddle model but if i can i will ABSOLUTELY make a render of yu holding it bc i cannot pass up the opportunity akshkdh

[brujahinaskirt]

arthur is rude to that one sex worker because the guys are fucking around as they oughtn't be and he actively wants the source of their distraction to go away. that is how he operates through the entire game: deliberate, utilitarian intimidation and strategic unpleasantness to achieve a goal. it is an early game commentary on arthur meant to position him as a big dog that barks. it is not a commentary on his views about women which are clarified many times afterward. you guys realize that right

[devilfic]

you know what. I think battinson is such an enthusiastic kisser

both his kisses with selina were kind of this dreamy, almost out-of-body experience where selina had him under her spell and he was just sort of helplessly in love with her so he could do naught but follow her lead,,, but I like imagining what it'd be like if HE initiated kissing his partner

like there's the more confident bruce, a few more years into being batman bruce, where he leans in during a lull of good conversation and he's smiling and suave and controlled but like. bruce in year 2? bruce fresh off selina and realizing he could maybe make time for a relationship? realizing how much he missed being touched? somebody call animal control cause this bat is in heat

before he leans in, he watches you like you'll disappear. his eyes are wide open!! he doesn't want to miss a thing!!! I think he's more likely to grab for your waist instead of going for your face or something.... I think he bubbles with the desire to touch you so bad and he just wants to feel you against all of him, and I think he can't help being a manhandler,,, he needs to move you just so because like he cannot let you slip from his fingers when he's aching to kiss you so bad

he doesn't make a lot of noise when he kisses but he breathes Heavy. I think once he's kind of really winded that's when he starts whimpering really low in his throat... nothing too crazy... little grunts and whines but they're so quiet. if he's kissing you and gets disturbed tho I do think he will full on groan and groan LOUD and it's both funny and super attractive because his face screws up in this petulant little scowl like. can't you see he's busy

he 100% leans fully into it which is a lot because he's a BIG man. he's going to have to push you up against something every single time because he is chasing you every time you part for air, almost mindless and eyes half-lidded as he mouths at you. he's so into it that I can guarantee it's gotten you two kicked out of a gala or two when people inevitably find him devouring you in a dark corner or a hallway you both assumed to be empty

if you wear lipstick/gloss he is not wiping that shit off either oh my goooood. don't let me think about you leaving marks all over his face and him proudly walking out into a swarm of paparazzi just. cheeky

it's really hard to just give this man a quick, chaste kiss. everything has to last at least a minute with him. it's why he literally cannot kiss you when he's busy because it'll be a minute and then five and then he's behind on work (oh no..... so sad.... anyway) because he's got you laid on the nearest surface sucking bruises into your neck

bruce will kiss any part of you but I think he's just so obsessed with your lips that it's where he inevitably fixates each time. it is so so hard to kiss him anywhere else because he will be like wow nice. kiss from my lovely partner. not on my lips tho.... and when he turns around for a kiss on the lips you can't just refuse! he's got such kissable lips and oh this is a time loop that never ends isn't it

[chorbie]

feebo spreads love and kindness and joy

[kalofi]

happy pride month here’s my contribution of trans nanami who didn’t transition until after he left jjtech and so when he comes back a brick shithouse it throws everyone for a loop. the group chat and i have dubbed this pre-t version of him nananiña. naniña for short

[shkika]

if u call me beautiful you can have my attention for 5 more minutes

[bacchuschucklefuck]

dreaming abt sophomore year class swap bard!riz

[dennisboobs]

:) i certainly have no issue dressing in drag :)

^guy who has no issue dressing in drag btw

glenn said that dennis' drag name is victoria von hemen btw

(Source)

[p4nishers]

all im saying is marvel has the opportunity to do the funniest thing by making lokius canon. like come on. think about it. here is this character who has been one of the most beloved by fans in a HUGE franchise for over a decade, has thousands if not millions of fanfiction written about them and obviously EVERYONE wants to know who they'll be paired up and turns out the one who has them trailing after him like lost puppy and basically acting as his guard dog is a seemingly very boring bureaucrat with an obsession with jet skis and a tendency to stress eat. like all shipping aside wouldn't that actually be the funniest thing you've ever witnessed bc it would be for me.

[artuurle]

more doodles of this thing that haunts my brain and his boyfriend

More doodles centered around pre-godhood shenanigans under cut to keep post short for the sanity of others lol

tha legally mandated Only 1 bed trope ...

getting the old uniform out!

annnnd the obilgatory sad bonus U u U

[satoruhour]

a/n: jjk 236 spoilers, mentions of suicide from reader’s side, no comfort, cry. around 1.4k. tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @saiki-enthusiast @arminsumi @shotorus @satohruu so yall can suffer w me

the first signs of grief manifests in you when there’s a bright light that signifies gojo’s disperse of cursed energy, the familiar hollow purple that obliterates half the buildings around the two strongest sorcerers — one from the heian and the other one from our times. surely, your lover wouldn’t do something as foolish as involving himself with the blast, but gojo satoru is always one to take risks.

when he took up the job of taking care of megumi and tsumiki at just eighteen years old and providing all the things they needed to fluorish. gojo is risky as he convinces a kid with a terrifying curse to make some friends and learn about cursed energy. he sometimes puts himself in danger when he takes up more missions he can shoulder just to show the higher-ups that he can kill them any time.

gojo satoru has the world of jujutsu in his hands; how his birth had changed the trajectory of the society, altered the balance of the world and now—

“satoru!” you call out once the smoke clears and he’s still there, intact, smiling a sick smile like the many times you’ve seen him done at megumi and after burning french toast. you brief a sigh of relief and the pounding of your heart calms down momentarily before sukuna emerges and he’s missing a hand and a leg and your heart pulls lower and lower seeing the kid you raised be such a ragdoll for sukuna’s entertainment. but there was always the hope to isolate the king of curses’ soul and save megumi somehow. shoko and you had discussed it, you know it to be true, it has to be true, until there’s a sharp noise that cuts through your ear drums.

it’s high-pitched, like a flash of light that shines in your eyes too abruptly and you have to cover them. but it blinds you as much as it deafens; an attack from god knows which end and you swear you hear the reaper’s scythe.

gojo thinks you look beautiful like this; hand on your cheek and head in your hand as you watch him and the melodic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board. you’re so concerned about him cutting his hand again that you’ve dragged your chair all the way into the kitchen to watch him closely, which was counterintuitive; the whole reason why he had bled in the first place was because he was looking at you so much.

he admires the way you curl into yourself on the beanbag in the apartment, a book on your lap on how to get to know your teenager better, hair falling over your eyes and the reading lamp not even helping that much in illuminating the words. gojo skims over your features and the way your chest breathes slowly, like everything good in the world. he hopes he’s able to get that with you in this life, for as long as he lives.

you feel it before you see it in the screens that the fight is broadcasted from — something is missing. a light has switched off, satoru has stolen the blanket at night and left you freezing again, seeing your favourite snack missing from the fridge. and you run. past the students you’ve raised, past the bright blinding screens and into the battlefield, past the debris and each crunch of cement under your feet brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes. the tokyo winter is cool, snow starting to slowly fall upon you and the saltiness on your face seem to crystallise and harden and you’re not even sure any more. there’s a tingling feeling in your feet, in your finger tips and a pull of your heart. you know where gojo is before you see him.

“s— satoru…” you mumble, eyes welling up with more tears when his bottom half stays standing, baggy pants stained with red, red and more red and you’ve never hated a colour like you do now. you hate it, you hate it, you hate it even when he’s proposed to you with a red velvet box and gotten you valentine’s day chocolates in that same darker red and there is just too much blood.

and then it’s like the hierarchy of grief doesn’t matter any more. all those articles you’ve read preparing yourself after gojo’s fated meeting with death at sixteen, and then after shibuya — you think you can’t handle any more of the collecting and patching up and crying and headaches and holding a finger up to your chest and hoping you’d kill yourself with your own technique. the only time you’d accept the absence of the bright blue on his face is when he was sleeping and his chest moved with even breaths, not like this.

not like this. 

“satoru—” your voice cracks and you cannot even see. tears and tears and mucus and the fresh crunch of snow under your feet as you step closer to his severed body.

“baby…” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, hand twitching and reaching out in the direction of your voice because this is infinitely worse than getting stabbed in the neck by toji fushiguro, perhaps a little worse than seeing your best friend of your high school life get manipulated by a cursed user. satoru wants to demote all of that and say that seeing you stumble to your knees in front of him while you hyperventilate and sob hurts the most. 

“d-don’t move, ’toru, we— we’re going to get you b-back, okay?” you’re playing with god now. “shoko!” the doctor stifles a sob at your cry, broken up by the feedback of the sound system. she knows you’re trying to defy god.

“i don’t think—” the light is slowly dying. the world’s light, the student’s light, your dawn and dusk. “m-my love, everything is…”

“satoru, please, you need to—!” they say the last sense to go is touch and hearing. you crouch to his face to see him react to your warmth, eyes moving an inch to where he thinks you were and puts all of his cursed energy into one hand just so he could hold your cheek. you, warm as always as the sun and everything good in the world, a new rush of warmth overtaking his hand when your tears flow over his battered, tired hands, the same hands that has drawn over his love time and time again over your body and you are a canvas made of gojo satoru’s endless, unconditional ardour.

“i-i’m…” it fades out, his voice box is almost gone and you wail again and the snow from below wets your knees. his name is all that leaves your lips and you think if you can’t play god, you can only beg, even if your religion is solely gojo satoru.

“no, no, no no nono, satoru, c’mon, baby, stop it!” you scream in his face, words all mushed together when you feel the breath of life leave his chest, the blues die out in his eyes, “i love you, i love you, darling, i love you—” your lover barely manages to muster a small smile and you scramble all over his chest, clutching at the tattered black t-shirt and his hand that is starting to go cold and he has the energy to mutter out a stupid remark like gojo satoru always does.

“i’m sorry i got y-your favourite outfit stained with red, princess…” satoru whispers and that breaks the dam fully. you sob and groan and cry and wail until your voice is hoarse and you cannot speak any more and gojo wants nothing but to full heal himself again just so he could stop your crying. perhaps hold your face in his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips and embrace you until you couldn’t breathe. perhaps even to tell you he loved you more than anything and everything; more than poems and that foolish line he just had to say at the end and kikufuku and waking up next to you.

but in what world will gojo satoru ever get repose and a normal life? you hope for every other universe to have him be a preschool teacher, or maybe a florist, or even a superstar. but not in this one, no.

the hand that caressed your cheek is replenished again with cursed energy.

satoru gives you three squeezes.

[puddii-ng]

a nostalgic feeling ♪

[orcateef]

[beeduoo]

exile

[fluffyartbl0g]

The one piece reread only makes the hardest moments hit even harder,,,, even when you’re rereading it poorly in portugese

Or AKA, i found out today that HINATA SHOYO reads one piece and I haven’t recovered since