instagram dump with your selfship! (model/actor!au sel x satoru ver.)
seltoru behind-the-scenes dump — work days and winding down~
liked by sstoru and others
sellybelly last week's shenanigans ✨
1: shoot day! 📸
2: nails sponsored by mr. gojo satoru 💅
3. loved our outfits for the awards 🥺 (thank you dior! 💫)
4. that feeling when you change into home clothes tho >>
5. maybe he's pretty sometimes 🙄
6. caught him in the act (texting me during a meeting 😭)
7. satoru in hair & makeup (some good sleep he's had there 🤧)
8. our lil treat to end the week 🍓😋
9. phone hijacked by mr. gojo satoru 🧿🧿 👁️👁️
sstoru knew you were obsessed with me 😌
thanks for the tag my love @tteokdoroki this was so so fun 🥺
tagging: anyone else who wants to do this!! it's so pretty and so fun 🥺
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Short Moderate Length List of Small(ish) Things I Appreciate About The Wettening
Dib being conspicuously absent from the opening pan of the classroom, only to cartoon-teleport into existence at Zim’s desk the second Zim starts expressing mild apprehension at the sight of unfamiliar weather. This kid spends his time just hanging around staring at Zim, waiting for him to show the slightest sign of discomfort, confusion, or unease in order to immediately taunt him about it—and the surrounding chaos, if anything, is just an opportunity to come watch even more closely. We all already knew this, but it still kills me to see it in action.
Also, he’s animated popping up from below, and like… were we meant to interpret this as him just chilling underneath Zim’s desk? No, absolutely not—but is it funny (and, to add to the hilarity, miraculously somehow not completely unbelievable within the context of the show) to imagine that he was? Yes. Yes it is.
Zim confidently walking out into a downpour he has already confirmed to be acidic just because Dib implicitly dared him to—no one’s looking, Dib hasn’t even said anything or made a claim against his humanity, Zim just can’t stand to give Dib the satisfaction of seeing him vulnerable or afraid of something (which backfires pretty spectacularly, since I’m pretty sure ‘writhing on the ground shrieking in indescribable agony’ is a significantly worse look in terms of appearing vulnerable, but all’s well that ends in Victory For Zim, I guess).
Also Zim's little baffled gesture right beforehand like he's silently asking Dib to confirm he's not hallucinating the rain dance (he does not receive an answer)
Gaz presumably seeing Zim sneaking up behind her brother, saying nothing and making no reaction that’ll tip Dib off… only to immediately be made to regret her choices when she gets caught in another splash. Shows her for trusting Zim to be at least a little bit cool about tormenting Dib (honestly, we see her exact fitting justice on Dib at the end of the episode, but I cannot imagine she wasn't still planning to do something equally petty to Zim).
The faucet drip scene and the underlying awareness that this is just what Zim and Dib do to each other during class. Every day. It is, in fact, probably one of the least disruptive forms their constant warfare takes on a routine basis. Suddenly I understand a little bit of why their entire class hates them.
Also Dib’s happy face while he's terrorizing Zim into a shell-shocked stupor is absurdly cute and heartwarming. If I cropped that picture no one would ever guess what he's smiling about. This kid? A sadist? Impossible.
“I don’t even feel good about winning this one,” and it's said with his hands clasped together, practically vibrating with glee, his expression vaguely reminiscent of a teenager in the throes of hormonal infatuation (the hypothetical object in this case not so much being Zim himself as a personified abstraction of Zim’s suffering). If someone hit him with the Return of Keef happy goo in this exact moment, I am completely certain it would kill him. His statement is only true insofar that a more accurate term for his current state of being would probably be euphoric. I take back everything I’ve ever said about Zim being unreasonable in this episode—he was merciful.
Also this face the moment Zim gets up and starts threatening him. Zim still isn't even all that intimidating at the moment, but Dib knows he just fucked up. Maybe he's getting flashbacks to Dark Harvest.
Dib’s ridiculous water balloon device. Seriously. I feel like it gets (reasonably) overshadowed by the sheer absurdity of Zim’s entire operation, but it really is so amazingly stupid and pointless in a way that is… not dissimilar to the ultimate Irken water balloon. Not only is it really not necessary for the task it's meant to accomplish, it's actively detrimental in that it slows Dib down, blatantly telegraphs his attacks, and reduces accuracy by a significant degree. The only actual benefits I can think of would be the exponential increase in force and range and the instant accessibility of a water supply—the former of which is totally unnecessary in this scenario and the latter being possible to accomplish with a much simpler device (or even just… a water tank). To summarize, it is an incredibly impressive feat of both skill and creativity in design that is also completely and utterly useless! Which is just the perfect demonstration of what I mean when I say Dib really does share nearly all of Zim’s flaws, just to a less obviously ridiculous degree—he comes off just calm and clever enough to pass as moderately reasonable at a glance, and in some ways, that makes him more of a potential flight risk than Zim. At least that's a lunatic you see coming.
Irkens are collapsible, apparently
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This interaction from before everyone finds out Astarion is a vampire is actually so insane to me. What do you mean the monster hunter from Baldur's Gate doesn't know about Cazador, but the archmage in Waterdeep who reads a lot of historical texts does?
Is it just an open secret everywhere except in Baldur's Gate, where people just don't really notice or pay attention to it? Like this shit is in books, apparently, if it made it's way to Gale. It's a published thing. It's known.
Astarion didn't even mention his last name.
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everything is hazy and maybe it's from the sticky sweet smoke of the joint they're sharing, but the thick tennessee humidity isn't helping matters. the night air feels heavy, clinging to their bare arms and foreheads like laying in quicksand, and it makes it hard for things to feel light. it all feels important, from the blades of grass in the field tickling the backs of eddie's knees as he lays propped up on his elbows to the stars shimmering above them to the sounds of nature chirping them a love song in time with his heartbeat.
"y'know," eddie starts, turning to look at steve by dropping his head to the side. the rusted arm of the lawn chair steve's sitting in creaks as the side of his head rests against the metal. the sudden motion makes the earth tilt on it's axis but sometimes that's what looking at steve just does to him. "the mountains here are old."
steve snorts out a laugh and drops a hand onto the top of eddie's head. his hand pushes through the curls for the briefest of seconds and eddie waits, wanting steve to keep his hand there, but then he's moving eddie's head to lean against his knee instead. it feels more like a win than he expects it to. "yeah, all mountains are old, man. how high are you?"
"no, steve, these-" eddie opens his arms wide to the appalachias in front of him and ignores the sharp pang of homesickness in his chest at the view. "-are older than fucking bones. they're older than saturn's rings. they-"
steve's hand returns to his curls and it stalls him. the homesick feeling that made a place in his chest warms up to nostalgia and hope and his head is filled of images of he and steve doing this again for years to come. images of them as older men, and maybe they're together and maybe they aren't, but they come back to the old plot of land he grew up on and smoke better weed and have a few beers and feel young and maybe in love again.
"it's kinda magical to think about. that these mountains that aren't nearly as impressive as the fucking rockies or somethin' have the coolest history. like, there are caves up there with zero fuckin' fossils because they were formed before invertebrates. and no one gives 'em the time of day just cause they aren't like peak skiing conditions or whatever. it's bullshit."
they fall into silence and before eddie can let himself over think about oversharing, steve's fingers linger on the side of his temple, tap a little beat before stilling. "you're accent comes out when you're excited."
eddie's face flushes and he hopes steve can't feel the heat under his fingertips. he can feel himself freeze, ready to laugh off this whole thing as being too high off his shitty weed or too tipsy from the beers or the general intoxication that comes from seeing steve fucking harrington sitting in his mom's shitty old folding chair with his mountains as the backdrop. but then steve's fingers start petting over his head again and all the noise between his ears fades away.
"i like your accent," steve whisper. eddie can barely hear it over the crickets. "it's cute."
eddie lifts his head up, risks a glance at steve and sees a matching blush to his own. it's right that the mountains are there to witness it, he thinks, as steve's hand cups his cheek and pulls him up so his knees dig into the dewy grass. they have as much of a home in his chest as steve does, it's about time they get properly acquainted.
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