#Pluto Projector

[iconsfinder]

[kadensmusictheory]

old enough to understand at the end of pluto projector makes me so violently ill.

old ENOUGH to understand. you are so young, but still you know the horrors.

old enough to UNDERSTAND, there is no shielding you anymore.

OLD ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND, you know, and i cannot help you.

[screampied]

you don’t really realize you’re growing old with satoru until you spot a grey tress inside the roots of your hair as you’re looking in the mirror. the thing about marriage and life itself was that time really doesn’t stop—for no one. as you entrap the lock between your fingers, you murmur out to satoru with a cheeky grin. “satoru baby, c’mere.”and as he’s lying in bed with a wrinkled nose, he reads some book titled ‘three men in a boat.’ as he flips a thick page, his cerulean blue reading glasses crook down the bridge of his nose before he turns his attention toward you.

“yesss, honey?” he rubs his eyes, bringing a palm up to his growing stubble. as he got older, you noticed how he moved a bit slower. satoru was still fit as he aged, but he’d have a bit of a waddle whenever he walked. it was cute—how his limbs were getting more and more fragile, but he was still labeled as the strongest despite his inevitable aging.

he makes his way behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. the two of you make eye contact through the mirror that reflects you both, a happy married couple. “look, we’re finally matching now,” and his face softens once you bring the silvery colored strand up to his view. ‘matching,’ because his hair was naturally a snowy white . . almost similar to the strand of hair you just showed him.

although as the years progressed, satoru was growing ashen grey streaks too.

“i guess we are,” he replied in a gentle tone, his hands remaining on your hips. satoru’s touch was always gentle and ginger. he presses his lips near the back of your nape before letting off a soft sigh. “you’d look pretty with white hair, actually.”

“prettier than you?” you hum, glancing at him through the mirror. satoru towers over you as he holds you, the band of his wedding ring grazing against your hip.

again, you watch as the corners of his lips crease into a smile. a toothy genuine one where his dimples show.

“haha, veeeery funny,” and as he buries his face into your neck, he deeply ponders to himself for a moment.

to think . . how much time has passed, out of all the countless tiresome battles he’s had to face—

all those years at trying to keep the world safe and now, he could finally relax. having his arms around you gave him a peace of mind, and in the end it was all worth it because at the end of the day, satoru gojo—the strongest, came back to you. you were his personal safe haven and he was yours.

“but honeyyy,” he yawns with rosy pouty lips, shifting his chin up to rest against your left shoulder. satoru starts leading you toward your side of the bed. “ ‘s pretty late, let’s getcha back to bed, hm?”

“okay,” you mumble, already feeling your eyes starting to get heavy again. satoru’s still got his burly arms wrapped around your waist as he leisurely guides you back to bed. he was clingy, and that never changed. satoru gojo’s always been clingy ever since the two of you met. as he pulls down the cover for you to enter, you crawl back in and he gets beside you.

satoru slings an arm around you, pulling you close as his hooded eyes starts a staring contest with the swaying wooden ceiling fan.

it’s moving slow. . just like time was.

whenever he was with you, it felt as if time stood still. and as the both of you cuddled against each other with your head resting against his beating heart, he sighs. it’s a content happy sigh, and satoru’s hands find their way near the top of your head. his thin fingers maze it’s way near your soft grey growing strand before he leans in, giving the crown of your head a goodnight kiss. “mwah,” and he watches as your eyes briefly widen before glancing away, growing sheepish. “get some rest, my love. i’ll be here when you wake up. promise.”

you nod, too drowsy to reply and he pulls you closer. satoru’s heartbeat was steady and slow, and each pulse that bested against your ear made you felt more and more protected. as he holds you firm and close, a hand of his softly caresses your forehead—brushing against the soft hairs that cling onto your skin.

as your breathing starts to relax and your eyelids finally close, he realizes you finally drifted off to sleep. satoru exhales lowly, almost forgetting to take off his reading glasses. as he places them near the nightstand, he lies back down, giving your sleeping state once last glance.

“i love you,” he whispers against your ear before reaching for the pearled lamp switch. “so much.”your head nuzzles against his chest and he assumes that was your non-verbal way of saying it back, even in your sleep. cute.

the only sounds that could be heard were the faint tick tocking of the grandfather clock that stood near the hallway and your soft breathing as you deeply slept. satoru feels a smile tugging against his glossed lips yet again, but this time it’s different . .

it’s not the same smile from when you showed him that you were graying, it was a more genuine smile that was satisfied at everything—primarily at life. satoru’s long crystalline lashes gradually flap shut as he smiles to himself, a thumb brushing against your forehead. all those battles was worth it in the end, because right now, he’s at the only place he wanted to be . . with you.

life wasn’t a competition, but satoru finally felt at peace, true peace—and that peace was being in your presence. he wasn’t one for believing in good endings, but maybe this particular one wasn’t so bad.

“i . . won.”

[estelasworldblog]

What if by the time I realize It's too far behind to see?

[blacknedsoul-blog]

About Eulalie and Nail Polish

Yesterday, I was looking for nail designs and discovered a funny detail: modern nail polish was invented in Paris in 1920, and it wasn't mass-marketed until 1932. In other words, if my headcanon is correct (that they all died before 1930, except Eulalie, who died in 1945), Eulalie was the only one who painted her nails like this. I can imagine her finding/the Deans giving her a box of nail polish and her wanting to paint her friends' nails while they look at her and don't understand what the hell she's putting on them.

[ryanthel0ser]

Guys it's not obvious I spent an hour crying in my car over Gyro and Johnny today is it

[sparkletacoz01]

The pencil smudged 😠

(Inspo for this was “Pluto Projector” - Rex Orange County)

[disneyllect]

[crunchybees]

wealth to me is not monetary. it has nothing to do with the number that is on your bank account. what matters is the actual tangible resources that you have. how convenient your life is with those resources. it doesn't matter how you get them. what matters is that you can use them.

[iconsfinder]

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

Happy birthday!!!

Aww, thank you interesting little planet!!! 🥰😁😅 I hope that's okay to say.... Pluto is one of my favorite planets too btw! <33

[heystephen]

Rex Orange County???? really??????

he was proven innocent with footage and eyewitness testimony dont worry i havent dropped my morals for some guy

[bowtiepasta]

PLUTO PROJECTOR: post argument texts 𑣿 — gojo, geto, toji, choso, nanami, sukuna cws: language, angsty, established relationships

romy 🐰 is typing… picture me hitting post and then immediately throwing my phone at the wall

© bowtiepasta: do not copy edit or repost anywhere

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

I promise there’s comfort. I promise! She knows the tag of hurt/comfort! There’s a lot of hurt and painful tragedy and violent grief but there’s comfort sprinkled in! I mean, it’s a bitter, sorrowful sort of comfort usually but it counts.

She’s experiencing the very real horror of being queer (aroace), neurodivergent, and a teenager in the 80s UK, ft severe abandonment issues and an unhealthy attachment to her brother and best friend, but she’s pulling through. Never back down, never what!

I always forget how she’s my favourite OC to draw until I draw her again.

[duvetchico]

pluto projector

summary you're stuck in bed with a nasty cold, but karina refuses to leave your side, despite the risk of getting sick too. she stays beside you, takes care of you, and keeps the mood light with her usual teasing and affection.

genre fluff / humor

pairing yu jimin x fem!reader

masterlist.

you feel like absolute trash. your head’s pounding, your throat feels like it’s been rubbed raw by sandpaper, and you can barely keep your eyes open. but the worst part? you’re stuck in bed. stuck. as if your body had some kind of vendetta against you today. there’s no escaping it, no “i’ll just power through” because you can’t even get out of bed without your body feeling like it’s gonna betray you. and honestly, you’d love to just hide under the covers and suffer in silence, but that’s where karina comes in.

you’ve been trying to avoid her all morning, not because you don’t want her around, but because you know she’s going to insist on taking care of you. you’ve already warned her multiple times: “don’t come near me, i’m sick. you don’t want this.” but she doesn’t listen to a word you say.

first, she shows up at your door with a tray of soup. you barely have the energy to lift your head, but she’s there, smiling way too brightly for someone whose girlfriend is on the verge of dying from a cold.

“hey, babe,” she says, popping her head around the door, her voice unreasonably cheerful. “i brought you soup. it’s not five-star but it’s something, right?”

you groan, pulling the blanket up higher over your head. “karina, i swear to god, if you come in here, i’ll get you sick. go away.”

she raises an eyebrow, setting the tray down on your nightstand. “really? i’m gonna catch your cold from a few feet away? look, if you don’t eat this soup, i’ll just feed it to you myself. i’m not leaving.”

you peek your eyes over the top of the blanket, squinting at her. “you’re actually crazy.”

“i know, right?” she says, laughing to herself as she grabs a spoon. “you’re lucky i’m crazy, though, because i’m the one who’ll take care of you while you’re in bed all pathetic like this.”

“i’m not pathetic,” you mumble, snatching the spoon out of her hand. “but you are a little insane for getting yourself involved in this.”

“nah,” she shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed, totally unbothered. “i’m getting the full ‘karina girlfriend experience’ right now. let’s be real—i’m probably gonna end up sick too, but that’s fine. i’ll just be the ‘take-care-of-you’ queen, and you’ll be the ‘lay-in-bed-and-look-pretty’ princess.”

you snort. “you wish i was a princess.”

“yeah, well, you’re the sick kind of princess who won’t eat her soup,” she retorts, grinning. “so, i guess i’m gonna have to feed it to you. by force if necessary.”

you roll your eyes. “don’t make me regret asking you to stay away.”

but you’re not really mad. in fact, you’re a little touched. because even though she’s being a little dramatic, you know karina means well. she always does. she’s just… she’s just the type of person who doesn’t know how to leave someone behind when they’re down, even if it means getting her own damn self sick.

you begrudgingly let her feed you the soup, even though every spoonful feels like it’s slowly draining the life force out of you. but you’re too tired to argue. every time you open your mouth to protest, karina’s already shoving the spoon in. it’s honestly kind of adorable.

“you’re like… a giant baby when you’re sick,” she teases, brushing some hair out of your face. “like, super dramatic.”

“says the person who’s about to get sick from being in the same room as me,” you grumble, closing your eyes to avoid her gaze. “you could be doing literally anything else, and you’re sitting here… feeding me soup. it’s gross.”

karina laughs, brushing her fingers through your hair like she’s trying to soothe you. “yeah, well, i’ll be gross if it means you get better. now, drink this water. no arguments.”

you sigh dramatically but take the glass from her, because, let’s be real, you’re too tired to fight her. “you know, i didn’t ask for this.”

“you didn’t ask for me either, but look at us now,” she says with a smirk. “you got me, babe. stuck with me.”

you give her a weak smile. “lucky me.”

“oh, i know,” she says with a wink. “don’t think for a second i’m going anywhere, because i’m not. i’m gonna be the best sick caretaker you’ve ever had, and you’re gonna love every second of it.”

she spends the next few hours like that—beside you, just existing in your little sick world, offering you water, soup, tea, whatever the hell she can find. you swear she’s an overachiever when it comes to sick days. she’s got the vibe of a nurse and the heart of someone who’s genuinely concerned about your well-being.

when you’re finally feeling like you might survive this ordeal, karina makes you take a nap. “you need rest,” she insists, lying down next to you on the bed, her hand still holding yours. “i’m staying right here, and you’re going to sleep. i’m not leaving, and i’m definitely not letting you get up. just… close your eyes. i got you.”

you almost argue, because your stubborn ass really doesn’t like being taken care of, but… you’re exhausted. and there’s something about the way she’s here that makes you feel safe in a way you didn’t expect. so, you give in, letting your eyelids drop as she hums softly beside you, her thumb rubbing circles on your hand.

when you wake up later, you’re still in the same position—karina’s right there, still holding your hand, looking almost… content? her eyes are closed, and her breathing is steady, and for a second, you wonder if she’s actually fallen asleep in the middle of all this.

but then, just as you’re about to move, she wakes up. she blinks a few times, looking groggily at you. “you’re still alive?” she asks, her voice soft and full of concern. “i didn’t kill you with my nurse routine, did i?”

you give her a tired smile. “no, you’re good. i think you saved me.”

karina grins, her eyes lighting up. “of course i did. i told you, i’m unstoppable.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying it—she’s been unstoppable in the best way. and for once, you don’t mind being stuck in bed with her beside you. hell, you kind of… need her here. you realize that, right then, as she tucks you back under the covers, offering you one last sleepy kiss on the forehead.

“i’m never leaving,” she murmurs. “not until you’re back on your feet. got it?”

you nod, feeling a little fuzzy from the exhaustion, but also a lot warmer than you did when you first woke up. “got it.”

and for the first time all day, you feel like everything might be okay.

[v-albion]

Old Enough to Understand

Let the boy experience the ✨ horrors ✨ @somerandomdudelmao

Song used: Rex Orange County - Pluto Projector

https://youtu.be/FAdwfMvx7rQ?si=HHCf_7uG3vwAIjPq