#i...love u all sm...

[hinamie]

newest issue of first years fashion just dropped

[idontmindifuforgetme]

Honestly the cliche advice is true. If you fill your life w things you’re passionate about, if you challenge yourself every day, if you give your own opinion of yourself more weight than you do other people’s opinions of you, you will actually thrive. Like no one can tell u anything

[bacchuschucklefuck]

january month of yuugi

[thebluebygracieabrams]

aftg extra content

kandrew nation how we feeling

[rayveneyed]

sukuna ryomen is somewhat of an infamous bachelor.

it’s not surprising to see him with a new beau every few months, if not weeks — almost trope-like in their frequency, his image bouncing between playboy and manwhore. he doesn’t take it personally, and he makes sure to let people know: he’s young and sexy and he has two oscars, for fuck’s sake, so he thinks the world can cut him some slack when he wants to mess around. and mess around he does.

between obvious paparazzi shots of panties tucked badly into his back pocket, and instagram posts with fellow actors and models pressed tightly against his chest, most are divided between thinking it’s either damn good pr, or a simple man living a life most would wish for. regardless, nobody is surprised when sukuna arrives alone at the mugler show for paris fashion week, and leaves with someone on his arm.

the only thing that came as a bolt from the blue was that it was you hanging from him.

the photos are undeniable, a story in parts; sukuna finding his seat in the front row, you on one side and kendall jenner on his other. his eyes drifting from the models to your face, as if taking a clandestine peek. you, meeting his underhanded gaze with a smile as sweet as spun sugar — and, gasp, sukuna returning it. the display is so out of character for him it feels almost voyeuristic to see it plastered all over twitter.

you, with your vintage, girl-next-door-esque image, big hair and big eyes and demure, calf-length hems, a voice that evokes the memory of helen forrest or ella fitzgerald. him, with his smudged eyeliner and tattoos and all-black attire, persistently typecasted as the panty-dropping bad-boy or devil-smiled brute. it shouldn’t work. for all intents and purposes, he should be spotted with a new supermodel the next week, leaving you in the dust of his philandering. most expect it, wait for the other boot to drop — expect an album of heartbreak from you, but—

a month passes. and another, and another. and suddenly sukuna ryomen, notorious rake, is photographed backstage at your shows. suddenly there’s an anklet hanging from your ankle, his initials in garnet. it’s early morning paparazzi pictures of you both in sweatpants and hoodies — yours, suspiciously oversized — one of his hands engulfing yours, the other holding a bag of takeout from a local breakfast spot, a lit cigarette in his mouth. hickies on your neck and a shit-eating grin on sukuna’s face. candid snaps taken at intimately sized parties, with his chin hooked over your shoulder and his large hands cupping your stomach. tiktoks of you both on the red carpet in the background of somebody else’s interview, sukuna leaning in close to brush an eyelash from your cheek.

neither of you confirm anything, but then — you don’t need to, do you?

[tojisun]

biting a rock thinking about (retired) simon’s daily acts of service </33

he cuts open a pomegranate for you and pours the seeds into a bowl so it’s easier for you to eat them. he pushes your hair away so that not a single one gets caught when he zips up the zipper on the back of your clothes. he hooks your necklace for you, apologizing when it’s taking so long for him to do so because the clasp keeps slipping from his pinched fingers. he takes the fuzzy socks from your hold so he can slide them on your feet himself, his big hands massaging the back of your shins with murmured praises because he knows how much your legs are hurting after such a tiring day. he talks to your plants because you told him, in passing, how you heard that plants apparently react to human voices the way people do so he makes sure to tell them how much he loves you—he thinks it will help maintain the healthy lushness of their leaves. he brews you coffee before fixing himself up a cup of tea; then, he learns how to make iced coffee when he noticed that you prefer colder drinks. he’s always the one who ties your shoelaces, be it at home or outside.

(now that he’s retired, i love imagining simon round with all the love he carries, both for you and from you. he is softer now. happier. yes, he still prefers to keep to himself, still prefers the quiet. but now it is not tainted with the necessity to survive, instead, it is filled with tenderness and love. and you.)

[sleupracceupies]

IM BACK!! ‼️

[dreamyblanket]

Maybe- simulating cuddles with disembodied Shmilk? Like he wants affection before his body is ready

-🍋

Something, something time goes by waaaayyy too quickly for mortals and he's technically a ghost so he can't even cuddle when he wants too :[

[lenowom]

Typical Lester family breakfast

[cowsnotcrows]

my beautiful wife <3333

[lil-lemon-snails]

decided to draw some of your guys' tags from my harlequin sun and moon post!!! These guys are so much fun and you're all so funny >w<

[lmadsadness]

Shockwave. PLEASE get sleep omfg

[orchaic]

but if i have the right to unsheathe this “legendary sword,” then i shall gratefully accept.

[moldieecheese]

im almost like five days late but

HAPPY FOURTH ANNIVERSARY PERSEVERANCE ‼️💜

new and improved pointing meme >:]

and one of my favorite scenes from the latest chapter <3

Read Perseverance by the lovely @pastelaspirations on a03 NEOW 🫵🏽

[faceeeeee]

Hit em with the mold infestation (oh and some other doodles🤸‍♀️)

[clouvu]

My shaylas 🫶