#like they deserve to be happy rn

[imdatbluegirl]

thank God

shit starting to look up for them yall

fucking finally. i mean everything is still horribly terribly bad, but there is now this lil spark of goodness clawing its way through all the bad shit desperately trying to survive, and I am totally here for it

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s really lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

[biopsssihozz]

season two got canceled, im yeeting myself into the sun :")

ill go reread all edwin/cat king ffs i loved and cry now goodbyyyyyyyye

[frostinepac3]

Lets go out for cogfee later maybe?

[willestears]

edvin saying simon and wille’s story does not end here we just don’t get to see it this time is hitting harder than I thought- he said it perfectly, they just get to live a normal life together now but that’s not for us to see 🥹

[theswedishpajas]

I don’t think I ever posted this but he’s here now about a week late 🦇✨✨✨

[oceans-beloved]

Meme dump yayyy🥳✨️

(off to make more now muhahaha >:3)

[skitskatdacat63]

Pictures from the 2023 Brazil Post-Race that made me psychologically and physcially and emotionally unwell:

[little-laurance]

The way the narrative frames Laurance's actions during The Wedding (ya know, werewolf one) is actually really frustrating to me. It's Malachi's castle all over again

Because the characters talk about the even as if Laurance only went ballistic because he was jealous of Aphmau marrying someone else? As if he and his companions hadn't just been sold like a commodity? As if they're very humanity hadn't been altered (turned into meif'wa)? As if Katelyn wasn't sitting alone in a cell half naked, Aphmau wasn't being forced to marry a man she didn't know, and Laurance himself was mere moments away from certain death? But yeah no, he just go super jelly and killed all those werewolves!!

[im-still-watching-anime]

kakashi: everything in my life is so bad…

kakashi: …..except for gai

kakashi: and the kids

kakashi: and my dogs

tsunade: that doesn’t sound like your life is so bad then

kakashi: oh my god my life is good?

tsunade: yeah

kakashi: i—huh. okay….i like that.

[loganswdc]

i don't even have words for today's trainwreck lol !!! i'm just at a loss this weekend and i need news about where logan is going soon because i don't think i can wait until winter break to know lol .

on another hand , logan seemed so mad on the radio after quali and he didn't apologize and i'm so proud of him for that !!!!! there's no need for him to apologize when he did what he could with the shit car he has . i'm so so proud of him :')

anyways , here's logan being cutie patootie because i'm so mad about today that i can't form any words other than screaming !!!

via logan_defender on twitter

[moeblob]

It's my birthday tomorrow so I'm indulging with more OCs as a treat to me personally.

Halibut the wonderful mute (by choice) siren thinking about how in another universe, she can marry Tolliver. The other universe is Tomodachi Life. She married Tolliver in Tomodachi Life and I'm so normal about them being married and happy since they do not in fact get married and happy in canon. (thank you 3ds crack fodder game i love you and think about you often)

[beanghostprincess]

A very interesting AU concept would be swapping Sanji and Pudding, hear me out:

It starts with 9 year old Sanji at G€rma. In one way or another, his modifications partially activate. He is still weaker than his siblings, but its enough for J@dge to not imprison him even after Sora's death. (He still gets berated tho) Living like this slowly makes Sanji lose his emotions. He doesn't have a will to to live, yet he can't die.

Meanwhile, at Tottoland Big Mom is furios at a 6 year old Pudding because she just can't awaje her 3rd eye. She calls her a failure, punishes her for nothing, and tells her that she isn't her favourite daughter anymore. Hearthbroken, Pudding decides to run away like her big sister Lola did by hiding in the hold of a ship. She ends up in the east blue and after the ship wrecks, she meets Zeff. They are both stuck on an island fir 80 days, but he sacrifised his leg because he could never let a lady go hungry, its just wrong. Later they are saved and end up opening the Baratie.

Zeff raises Pudding as his precious daughter. She is already great at baking, but he teacges her how to make other dishes and cuisine. Everybody loves her, and anyone who even lays a finger on her will die.

Then Luffy arrives. While Pudding's real dream is to learn about the 3 eye tribe, she tells everybody that is to find the All Blue for her old man (she still covers her eye, Zeff is the only person who has seen it). After the events of the Baratie arc, she joins the crew as the cook.

The rest of the story would be similar. Pudding is now a pirate who uses her leg fighting skills and smarts to get by. (As well as an idden power thats connected to her 3rd eye) The marines gave her the epithet "chocolate leg Pudding". Im not sure if she already has the memo-memo no mi... I'm gonna assume she does and its very useful for her.

The first change in the plot is at Thriller Brak. Pudding notices her sister, but she is scared to face her at first, since that woukd mean telling her friends about her true lineage. For most if the arc, she deribetaly tries to hide herself and even wears a disguise. In a final moment in the arc, she asks Lola to talk to her privately. We don't see what happens yet, but we will one day.

The rest of the story is the same, until Whole Cake Island. When she is kidnapped by the Big Mom pirates. When her bounty poster is changed to "only alive". When the invitation to the wedfing of the 3rd son of the V!nsm@ke family and the 35th daughter of the Charlotte family are handed out. When Big Mom decides to claim her disowned child to give her up in an arranged marriage as part of a coup. Threattening to hurt Zeff and her friends if she doesn't comply.

I love this so damn much you don't even know-- I've always been saying that Pudding's story is basically Sanji's but like, with the bad ending because she never got to escape when she was little but Sanji did. And now that you mention this AU, it's just perfect to show their similarities but also to turn the stories around and,,, It's amazing.

Starting with Sanji, I adore that the approach here is that he's emotionless. I don't think he'd be like his brothers in a narcissistic, egocentric way. I think that after being abused constantly he just loses all will to leave and shuts down completely even if there is still empathy within him. The whole thing with the Vinsmokes is that they were all raised to be powerful killing machines and that's why they act like this, not because they actually are emotionless. And Sanji in this context isn't either, he just seems like he is because he just... Gives up. So I imagine a black-haired Sanji with some blond, completely shut down and just taking the abuse and living with it and serving the family without anything else.

But there is still some type of connection in him to like, animals and women, I think. It's small but it's there. He's not our sweetest boy but he won't harm women the way Niji does and he will help and feed animals because he is strangely attached to them and cooking. But Judge doesn't really say anything about it anymore because at least the kid gets the job done and doesn't seem like he's going to rebel or anything. He's kind of like in a Reiju position? Where he understands their situation and has his own emotions but just shuts down? Except that he's well, extremely depressed and mean and she's concerned for him. I think she still protects him though, she's the only one Sanji doesn't push away. Typical "they sit in silence and she hugs him and even though he stays expressionless it's obvious that he likes it with her".

And Pudding... I love that she gets her happy ending here. I've been saying Zeff has girldad energy and it just makes sense that he'd be extremely protective of her while teaching her to cook and fight on her own!! He raised the most gorgeous, sweetest, and yet ruthless cook of all seas! I think he'd be such a great dad for her because he would help her stand up for herself and also take care of her in their early years together when she is still having trouble adapting to a new, healthy environment. Of course, she still has nightmares and trauma responses when she grows up, and he helps her anyway, but she gets better at some point.

I love that he's the only one who sees her third eye!!! That'd be like, such a good plot point too for her to join the strawhats... Also, her dynamic with Luffy would be hilarious because despite being sweet, I wanna desperately keep her mean personality and she would be SOOO done with Luffy. Their relationship would kind of resemble Lusan's a lot, imo. And Nami would be sooo happy to have another girl in the crew so early!!! I also think she'd hate Zoro but not because of like, parallels with Zosan or anything, I just think their personalities clash too much-- And she'd have a soft spot for Usopp but that's because, you know, everyone does. Also, I like having a girl in the crew that isn't part of the coward trio. She actively fights and I love it. Then Vivi and Robin join them and y'know, I am starting to think another girl in the crew would be literally amazing hahahaha (I've been saying this for so long). So I am guessing everything stays the same except that during Thriller Bark she reunites with Lola but yeah, she doesn't tell the others about it. Because that's what WCI is for!

Then WCI happens... And I am losing it because I really, really, really want her to have the biggest breakdown about it and sacrifice herself Sanji-style (don't you just love how you don't even have to change the plot because they're literally parallels??? I will never understand how some people can hate Pudding lmfao she's literally Sanji). So she's forced to do the exact same thing she does in canon if she wants to save the ones she loves, but she doesn't want to kill Sanji?? Like at all?? And then you have Sanji who literally gives zero fucks about what's going on. I think he'd be forced to act politely and like a gentleman when he literally doesn't care about all of this-- And probably Pudding finds out and he's mean to her, yadda yadda yadda.

And y'know I would absolutely love if Sanji knew they're going to kill him but couldn't care less about it because perhaps dying is better than whatever life he's living, and when Pudding realizes what's going on she makes him want to live just... A little bit. Something awakens inside Sanji and suddenly he's scared and he doesn't want to do this. Sanji sees Pudding's third eye... Pudding finds out about Sanji's mother... They actually won't stop arguing at first, Pride & Prejudice style, and then Sanji sees her with a different perspective and all of a sudden he starts acting more protectively and sweet to her? So she's confused as hell and still tries to argue but uhhhh complicated relationship they've got there, but at least they help each other out.

And idk perhaps we have the Viinsmoke sibs having the same scene they have in canon and helping Sanji out but the crucial part is Reiju paralleling the original scene in which she helps Sanji escape. And he finally does and he leaves with the strawhats because I need them to have a happy ending. So he's still dealing with, you know, trying to express his emotions and wanting to live but he'll get there someday because at least now he's safe. Nobody kisses and forgets anybody because I will not allow a sad ending here, thank you.

[nakanemiya]

made some teenage mutant neglected turtles propaganda (have no if Im late or not but oh well) teenage mutant neglected turtles au: @nerves-nebula

they have made me realize a little too much about bad home life irl, god ily them so much

[astraystayyh]

happy birthday my sweetest minho <3 minho who's a dance machine, minho who has the voice of an angel, minho who helped his members perfect their dance moves since debut, minho who tries his hardest to give the best life to his cats, minho who always finds time to talk to stays, minho who sponsored a kid through UNICEF because he was an only child and it felt like having a little brother, minho who told stays that they did well even if they just breathed that day, minho who cooks for his members and feeds them afterward, minho who takes care of his members in the quietest ways, minho who has the sweetest soul.

[bluepallilworld]

*breaths in*

HAPPY BIRTHDAY FROG!!!!!

@help-im-a-gay-fish

You can thank @jann-the-bean for organizing this surprise uwu