#not sure what her tag is
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The Unexpected Swap Page 4
you'll uh. Probably need to zoom in to read im sorry. Excuse the quality and many mistakes okay just have fun .
Page 4!!! noise and naya join peppino just out of spite over pizzahead!!! And to help peppino too of course.
@luigigirl12
by the way, peppino is saying something like this: "I got stuck in the body of pizzahead, and when I went to my pizzeria I found Pizzahead in my body, and Gustavo thought I was him! Then he kicked me out of my pizzeria, and he's still in there!"
#posts with my head bowed in shame#sorry for taking too long heres the page you crazy children#i have mixed feelings about this one but overall. i think i did alright ?#hope i got naya right bleeehhh#my art#peppino spaghetti#the noise#theodore noise#naya#naya pizza tower#not sure what her tag is#unexpected swap comic#pizza tower#pizzahead#TECHNICALLY???
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Rosinante and Belle-Mere are a gay man and a wlw who are married and in love (queer?)platonically and they kiss and even have sex with each other. And they have approximately six thousand adopted children and they both clown on their previous employers. He may be almost twice as high as her but he is the failmalewife in this situation and she is the girlbosshusband.
#corabelle#is apparently the ship name#donquixote rosinante#bellemere#belle mere#?#not sure what HER tag is#one piece
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Since I’m on a Vivian kick, here’s a funny little comic showcasing what Griz and Vivian’s dynamic is like in FL era that was inspired by a convo in the Failbetter discord
(For context, Vivian and Griz were engaged in MoTR , but Vivian broke it off and then started dating her employer. Needless to say Griz does not like him very much)
#the facetious aristocrat#the efficient commissioner#not sure what her tag is#fallen london oc#fallen london
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EMILY PRENTISS in THE RED TANK in CRIMINAL MINDS 3x03 | 'Scared to Death'
#i wanted to zoom in more but i couldn't crop out jj smiling up at her#anyways i am a woman of the people and i'm pretty sure this is what the people want#i can't wait for the tags on this one y'all go feral for this top#criminal minds#emily prentiss#jennifer jj jareau#jennifer jareau#jj jareau#paget brewster#aj cook#jemily#sort of#cm#cmedit#criminal minds gif#luthqrs#luthqrscm#luthqrsgifs#crim s3#cm 3x03#scared to death
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fire cannot kill a dragon BITCH
#a song of ice and fire#game of thrones#asoiaf#got#mine.png#i have no clue what dany era this is i just wanted to see if i could get down how i think book dany looks just like. in general#results are inconclusive#also ive been doing like exclusively multimedia w either sketching or doing full colored pencil first and then taking a picture#on portrait mode ☝🏻#and finishing the rest in procreate so if things look weird thats like#why#im figuring stuff out lmao#and like! where ae the highlights on her coming from?? idk but surely not that fire#daenerys targaryen#adding tags bc my tags are my safe space and if ur reading them then. ur in this with me i locked the door i secured the chains..#just realized that lowkey with how daenerys is described as being just like#ethereally pretty as per the targ pretty gene#i sort of picture her face as like#one of those insanely pretty girls u see on tiktok and they just like naturally have a disney princess face#no makeup bc their skin is perfect and their lashes are naturally super thick and long#thats dany to me#this face ate an entire raw horse heart <3
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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.
#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3#i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother#i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u#but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it#and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child#im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#gojo fluff#geto fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#……… thats… a lot of tags.
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find another role, carry on the show
#EDIT IT DIDNT SAVE MY TAGS. hey so this post got a thousand notes huh. interesting. surely nothing will change#i'll leave all the old tags. for my thought process. and its kinda funny#take a bow stupid idiot (throws a tomato at them)#in stars and time#isat#siffrin#siffrin no middle names no last name ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧#... or is it. Smiles#i'd like to draw mira for her birthday but um (hasnt open artfight website in a few days) im scared.#also i have NICE ASKS TO ANSWER.... But im scared. give me a minute#Uawaaaaagh i drew this bc i was trying to animate a little bit but it just . Didnt look good. im not good ag 2d animation#tch. ill keep trying cause there ar e way too many songs that and now about isat because i have brain worms. i need amvs.#IM SCARED TO POST THINGS THAT ARE SPOILERY BECAUSE I WANT MY FRIENDS TO PLAY ISAT. BUT.#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#sasasap#sasasa:p#WHAT IS THE PROLOGUES TAG.#tshirt that says 'i <3 killing the image in the mirror and taking its place' on the fromt#and a list of megan thee stallions tour dates on the back. お金稼ぐ俺らはスター#Im kind of tempted to edit this to be the versiom with the eyes. or maybe twt can have that. or. well#all of my friends are on twt (trombone slide sfx) so maybe thats where i should worry about spoilers.#ill see if i want to slap an eyepatch on them in the morning#Im one of those people who was like idgaf about twohats (lets it simmer for a week) Oh my god. Oh my god. Ohmy god#EDIT. i swapped it out for the Eyes version it should be fine as long as its tagged formspoilers right...#ill post eyepatch vers on twt partly bc spoilers but also ppl over there can be .. annoying ..... ....#i fear i would get 800 You Forgot The Eyepatch replies. PLEASE JUST SEE MY VISION.#[BANGING MY HANDS ON THE GLASS] HIS HAND. LIKE IN THE PROLOGUE. WHEN THEYE. HANDS. HELD[EXPLOSION
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blink and you'll miss it moments around skyhold....
#solavellan#solas#gotta put out some tender stuff to balance the chaos target team leader solas has caused.#look i just need to go feral in the tags for a moment#okay the fucking. what's he call himself? the great adversary of her people's mythology....falls in love w a woman being forced into a role#not unlike his own#i t makes me c r a z y#like at one point he's all ooooh we're elves need to make sure the humans trust us to ensure safety. gives them a castle......#then he's all ''ooh you cant change the way your legend is getting out of hand. might as well accept it''#but he disapproves if you lean into it/call yourself the herald.#he approves of you fighting against the status quo. encourages sera to sow chaos and has a VERY interesting convo w her about power#''what lop of the top?'' ''yes.'' ''well what's that do except make room for a new top to come and fuck it all up?''#at which point he fuckin STUTTERS and is like. oh fuck. you're right. my bad. and then he shuts up in quiet contemplation#he's clearly wrestling w himself. and Ohmygod the felassanstuff.#like the Guilt. the Regret.#haunting that fucking rotunda.#and yet he's so in love w lavellan if they go that route.#like clearly some stuff was missing/fumbled in game. but like#how he fuckin screams for the inquisitor at the well?????!?! OK BOI?!#im just. the dread wolf. great adversary of the dalish pantheon.#turns out to be some somber grim guy with a fatalistic sense of humor who hates tea and greatly values free will#pina art
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girl experiences gender euphoria and is immediately slammed by grief
for @litttlittt <3. this was supposed to be a portrait of caroline hill, but litta mentioned tim looking like janet when dressed as caroline and identity issues and angst and things spiraled
something about tim not knowing if he's his mother's child or bruce's or neither's.
figuring out the looks:
i wanted janet to have that poofy 70s hair
#tim drake#dc#bruce wayne#janet drake#sart#i'm picturing this as transfemme tim hence “he” and also compounding issues about bruce treating him as a daughter#which is exactly the gender validation tim wants and needs but isnt sure he deserves#but this also definitely works for trans tim#she gets to process that she looks like her mom!! and her mom will never get to know her daughter#would she have wanted to know her daughter? even though she showered tim with love when she was around#she barely knew her son#gender idk he's a girl 👍 hope that helps#i went down a rabbit hole looking up vintage dior necklaces -- hopefully something martha wayne wouldve worn#-- but dior necklaces are COMPLICATED#i almost drew pearls but i think that wouldve been too cruel to bruce lol#(a decent amount of my art--even when it's not femme tim--gets tagged 'gender' and i dont know what im going but im glad 👍)
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Arcane ships ranked, for fun
The main ships and some rarepairs I've found, I like pretty much everything in the first 4 rows. I probably missed some but idk what they are and I'm too lazy to add more rn.
feel free to add your thoughts or ships but again its just for funsies :)
#you can probably tell which characters I like most by how many ships of them I know lmao#ignore the many tags im legit just rambling abt my thoughts on each ship#caitvi is in its own rank cause Im not playing with caitvi fans they are correct that is the best ship even if I like other some ships more#arcane#arcane s2#arcane spoilers#caitvi#jayvik#timebomb#lest arcane#whats the ship name for mel and lest?#lestel? idk im not calling them melest lol#mel x lest#catcouncil#oo is that it? it came up when typing. thats kinda cute but also vague#vilco#ik that one for sure#vanco#jaymelvik#mel x sevika#idk the ship name for that one either I actually just found out abt it but editing the pic for them convinced me to ship them#idk if anyone else ships ambessa and viktor there were only 4 fics on ao3 under it but i ship it cmon he's her type#she would eat him for protein#jaymel#melvik#i actually like both of these ships but they're infinitely better as poly imo#dont know how many people ship viktor and vander either but i saw a lot of potential in act 2 for it with all their astral plane connecting#sevika x ambessa#that would be hot but also hate sex probably#I love sky but i do not ship her and Viktor he just is clearly not interested and she kinda lets go of her crush on him before dissolving
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The pishacha are manifestations of evil itself, locked within a cursed amulet. The wearer of the amulet is at the mercy of the demon, known for possessing humans and feeding off their host's chakra energy. However, if symbiosis is achieved, the pishacha can grant its host a myriad of powerful abilities.
I just needed to draw something cool okay. I needed to draw some cool goop and some cool looks okay. okay. if I didn't post this I would have exploded okay
#IT'S VENOM BAYBEE#i can't confirm nor deny if pavitr ever ends up wearing the symbiote- sorry. the demon#i honestly just wanted to get something out lmao#it's eating me up from the inside (the au and the symbiote)#honestly there's a lot of white but fuck it. my boy needs to look good.#the dhoti reminds me of gwenom tbh. you know what i'm talking about. that pink bit in her 'fit#anyway i TOLD YOU the mythology was coming in like a boss >:)#sure i'm tweaking stuff here and there. but mwahaha.... boy does it feel good when mythology actually gets what i'm trying to go for#and spits something out for me to use :D#(crying for hours on end trying to figure out how the black goop does its thing)#anyway nearly 12am. this time i will tag my shit correctly 😤 we will not have a thompson/travasso incident again#pavitr prabhakar#spider man india#spiderman india#venom symbiote#venom#spider man fanart#mythic mumbattan au#myart#artoftheagni
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The Quest Continues...
(part 1- part 2)
#Fourfold Soul#<- That's the title of the project I've been working on!#I am very excited to finally show off the cowboy (gender redacted) I've been cooking in a slow boil!!! Yeehaw!#Yes this is the game project. YES I am commited to the bit of having the main character go through a long running pronoun-quest.#This character does not have a name so I cannot formally tag them...#(Okay. Technically they have an internal name for coding/scripting reasons...and I have a nickname for them.#But the important part of making a video game character you get to eventually name is that the name must come from *you*!)#The girl here is a npc so she has a temporary name. So I also cannot tag her. Hmm...#I have several FFS comics thumbnailed out. This one got made first because it's the funniest without context. Lore wise it's weak.#I would love to post the sexy clown but you have to wait just a few more comics.#Fun artist woes moment to share: This is the first time I've had to colour these characters traditionally. *That* was NOT fun.#Going from a specific digital colour palette to being at the whims of my limited colour choices in markers? Hell! On! Earth!#I might also be extra frustrated because this sure is 3x the length of what I usually do for comics! I spent a Whole Day on this.#Past me thought it was soooo funny and needed all the extra panels for pacing. I hate past me. That guy needs to be exploded.
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sin eater
#sorry its been a minute!!! the horrors. you understand.#anyways yall ready for another gloom tag essay because here we go!!!#im constantly thinking about the ramifications of uzi literally eating cyn and her now being apart of her.#specifically how it impacts uzi mentally. like dgmw i LOVE the silly cyntail shenanigans in fanart (ive also contributed to this) however#when i really think about it in relation to uzi's arc i go crazy insane#uzi is a character who is grasping for control after a lifetime of not having it.#she has no control over how her peers treat her. she has no control over khan neglecting her for reasons that arent her fault.#she quite literally has no control over the solver taking her over and making her do monstrous things against her will#which solidifies her feelings of being a freak monster who everyone was right to outcast and mistreat.#because im Unwell i interpret her calling herself god as a way to convince herself of having control- and to lock away feelings of impurity#if anyone is in control- if anyone is loved and cherished despite any and all wrong doings- its a god.#and that all comes to a head when she eats the heart of cyn thereby destroying the AS- a literal manifestation of a corrupted god- for good#finally taking back control from the entity that had been terrorizing and traumatizing both her and her loved ones. but did she really?#cyn is apart of her now. powerless sure- but that doesnt take away the horrors she wrought previously#and even so- has uzi ever stopped being just a host? do you think shes terrified of cyn regaining power out of the blue?#do you think uzi ever stops feeling like a monster?#“sin eating” was a thing that happened where someone would consume ritual foods to take on the sins of a recently deceased person#thus absolving said deceased person of any sins and putting them onto the sin eater. being a sin eater ensured eternal damnation.#and i just think about that a lot. when applying that (symbolically ofc(somewhat literally. she very much is a cyn eater)) to what uzi did.#“gloom you're reading way too much into this” THE LITTLE GOTH ROBOT. MAKES ME INSANE IN THE HEAD. OK!!!!!#gloom.art#murder drones#murder drones fanart#murder drones uzi#uzi murder drones#uzi doorman#uzi md#md uzi#uzi fanart
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2.05 The Aftermath | 5.01 Nameless, Faceless
#criminal minds#criminalmindsedit#cmverse#cmverseedit#userparallels#elle greenaway#aaron hotchner#ellegreenawayedit#aaronhotchneredit#mine#edit#*#parallel*#i love parallels#tag meta#wordles#meta#~#otp: now i think i'm actually gonna miss that#i think about this a Very Normal Amount! and the fact that chris mundy wrote both! it's fine!!#i definitely don't lose my mind thinking about how hotch has absolutely put this together in his head at some point#how elle's assault and subsequent vigilantism and resignation absolutely rattled him to his core#(in part because of the guilt and in part because of his own thoughts/behavior in 1x17 with elle#(another chris mundy episode i might add!!) but that's a whole other can of worms)#how he understood the violation of what happened to her and made sure to personally remove all traces of it#(to atone for his part in what happened to her first and foremost but also because they were close. he understood her!)#and i definitely don't wonder if while it was happening. he thought that. maybe. this was retribution for his part in what happened to elle#i could scream about elle and hotch for days honestly
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I genuinely love not having a crush like I’m not over here feeling physically sick over some mid guy being dry to me I’m literally chilling
#Spring semester of last year was so bad bc I was unironically into 3 guys at once and they were all#Being dry and cryptic to me#And then before that in 2022 I had my horrid situationship#I had a mini obsession arc in dec 2023 over someone but now there hasn’t been anyone since#And my palette is so cleansed#When a girl is like I miss having a crush I’m like you’re literally a masochist#There was very briefly a girl I thought I had a crush on when I realized I’m bicurious but#I haven’t put effort into talking to her bc the idea of pursuing anyone makes me wanna claw my eyes out#I’m pretty sure I ghosted her by like just not responding to her last messsge actually#Not on purpose but more so bc I realized I was feeling the same anxiety I felt whenever I had a crush so I was like#Yeah I’m dropping this for now#I’m also always the most present for my friends when I don’t have a crush so idk#Like I don’t wanna be consumed by anyone I just wanna chill#The solution to not having normal attraction to people is just to not be attracted to anyone at all#I fr cracked it#I always just crave the butterflies out of it and never an actual relationship anyway#But they’re so not worth it#Which is why I always get bored of guys who’re forthright like oh ok you actually WANT something…. U don’t wanna just have fun#Not for me#I think the guys I’m into and I typically diverge in the sense that neither of us wants a relationship but they just wanna fuck me#And I more so just want the butterflies experience / to playact couple for like a couple months but nothing too serious#Which is why it never works#Like it’s not that it doesn’t work bc either of us wants a relationship it’s more that what we want out of the situationship is different#So lame#Ok this was a lot but I literally came to this epiphany while writing these tags
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Attempting to get the beast used to a dental hygiene routine is… well, it’s going.
(She stayed that way for a solid 8 seconds despite hating being held belly up so I think it’s safe to say that Mim is not beating the ‘tiny speaker playing elevator music instead of a brain’ allegations any time soon.)
#cecil blogs her life#my art#digital art#artists on tumblr#Mim the cat#cats on tumblr#cat art#comics#black cats#she’s actually pretty good about it normally - like she doesn’t enjoy it but she lets me do it without too many complaints#ofc I make sure to do it as quickly as possible and give her lots of dental friendly rewards lmao#she’s currently sleeping on top of me so I think I’m forgiven#I don’t believe she has any current dental issues so it’s mostly preventative#esp bc we don’t know exactly how old she is or what her life was like before I adopted her#this is probably seven different kinds of heretical but anyway#shout out to Tom my childhood priest who once told me not to take the bible literally after I asked him where the dinos were supposed to#fit into genesis. incredible. anyway I’m a non believing heathen now so meh#who cares#these tags are a RIDE wtf cecil
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