Tumgik
#melancholic person
poor-boy-orpheus · 2 years
Text
.
3 notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
Tis but a flesh wound!
[First] Prev <–-> Next
1K notes · View notes
Text
gojo always seems to be off in a world of his own.
a little detached, you think. awkwardly long limbs constantly on the move, eyes stuck in a direction no one else can follow, a trajectory you don’t think even he knows. one blink and he's gone, just like that. too far ahead, too far above, even on the occasions he slows down and lets you catch up.
flimsy, maybe. like he’ll get carried away by the breeze when spring rolls around. like he’d turn into seafoam if you reached out and touched him.
satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky. high and mighty, cocky and cool, silly and bright — but there's a softness to him when he's alone. something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face — and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be.
no one except for you, anyhow.
(you wonder if your presence is really that inconsequential to him.)
the beach is entirely empty, save for you and gojo. and summer’s ending, burning into little cinders, sputtering out before your very eyes.
tokyo is just beginning to dip its toes into autumn, the frost and chill, the hiss of the biting wind. the rusting of leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. smelling of rotten apples and cinnamon, old books and burning wood.
it’s dark out. painted a thick gray, the sky is blanketed by heavy clouds, the entire world hidden behind that coating of wool. not a single sliver of starlight slips through, but there's a comfort to it, that feeling of being cocooned — safe and warm. a feeling cruelly stripped away by the nipping of the wind at your bare skin, but you digress.
everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air; scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which. 
and a sense of foreboding sinks into your veins.
(you look out at the jagged rocks piercing the surface of the sea, and dully wonder how they’d feel piercing your skin.)
something shivers, to your right. a flicker of movement, a barely audible chatter of teeth. and then, a white puff of vapour.
”man, it’s cold.”
gojo looks displeased. 
only vaguely, a little crease between his eyebrows as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his puffy baseball jacket. moving his feet a little, to warm up, snowy tufts of white hair tousled by the ocean breeze. his shoes are muddied by the wet sand, but he doesn't seem to mind.  
a soft scoff leaves your lips, mostly harmless. maybe just a little smug. ”told you,” you click your tongue. 
gojo whines. his sunglasses are starting to fog up, you notice. ”it’s still summer!” he pouts. ”i thought the sea would be nice and breezy!”
an unimpressed look smooths over your features. gracing him with a raise of your brow, you don’t fully manage to bite back the soft smile that follows. don’t even really attempt to.
it’s been a long day. evidently not long enough for gojo, seeing as he dragged you down here — even though he knew it meant missing the train you were supposed to board after successfully finishing your mission. he just had to get a closer look at the sea. just for a moment or two. 
and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one. 
(what made you agree was simply the thought of spending some more time with him. not like you could ever tell him that, though.)
so there you stand. two juveniles, shivering and shifting from foot to foot, on the brink of nightfall, the edge of summertime. watching the sea stretch out into infinity, across the gap between this world and the next. a murky blue. easy on the eyes.
the noise of the sea fills your ears; waves crashing into sand, the whistling of the wind, seagulls crying out in the distance. and faraway, the chatter of a rattling train. a cacophony of sounds, buzzing and crackling, melting together. scattered across the beach are countless tiny white seashells, and the occasional green glimmer of drift glass — mermaids’ tears, shed for lost sailors, or so you’ve heard.
you wonder if the mermaids ever shed tears for lost sorcerers. probably not.
a shiver runs through your body, down to your cold hands, the tips of your fingers. reddish and itching for warmth. you tuck them into your pockets with a breathless exhale, still shaking a little. 
in truth, you and gojo aren’t very close. you’d like to call him a friend, but it's kind of hard; when he's so enamored with suguru, so animated around shoko. with you, he always seems kind of —
stiff? 
or maybe more like bored.
he doesn't laugh as loudly, doesn’t act as cocky. doesn't flaunt his knowledge on sorcery, and isn't as clingy as he is with the other two.
(you've never liked people touching you. it's not hard for others to discern, with how you flinch away when they get close.
still, you can't help but feel a little jealous when you see him tugging suguru and shoko around.)
deep within your chest, like a stunted seaweed, sprouts a tiny pang of disappointment. it’d be nice if you could grow closer, you think.
just a little would be fine. 
”i like the sea.”
you turn your head.
gojo looks a little lost in thought. gaze trained on that expanding ocean before you, those splotches of blue and gray, the waves that bruise the edge of the sand. forlorn, maybe.
a hum buzzes in your dry throat. ”do you?”
”mm.” little white breaths slip from his lips. you wonder if they’d taste as salty as the air. ”’ts nice.”
a silence stretches out before you. delicate, like a sheet of glass. gojo picks at a piece of lint on his sleeve, and you shift from foot to foot. then he closes his eyes — a flutter of his dewy eyelashes.
”kinda makes you feel like everything’s about to end, huh?”
you look at him, but don’t see anything. a single glimpse of his closed eyes is all you gain from the glance you cast his way, but it’s not enough. not enough blue to fall into, no expression to savour. he looks the same as always.
but you’ve never heard his voice sound like this before.
”… end?”
and with that, they flicker open. there it is, you think. that vibrant blue. only to be obscured once more, when he turns to you fully, a smile playing at his glossy lips. ”don’t think so?”
a second passes. you look forward.
what you see is as follows: waves upon waves upon waves. the same blue and gray, as far as the eye can see. a sea big enough to drown each and every one of your worries. 
something comes over you. a sensation of loneliness, something close to longing. a feeling of being rather lost. searching for something. your heart feels heavy, an anchor sunk to the bottom of your gut. little fish nipping at your ribcage. your eyes trail over those jagged rocks, again; the mermaids’ tears, that all-consuming sea, right in front of you. like it could open its maw and devour the world.
you think of the lost sailors.
(one jump and it’s all over.)
a breath. salty on your tongue. ”… i guess i get it,” you whisper. a soft murmur, mingling with the mist. 
silence.
out of the corner of your eye, you see gojo shift. one moment he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring at the sea. in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue. and you think he looks a little mesmerized, like he’s seeing something not even he can fully comprehend.
(maybe he just hasn’t had many chances to go to the beach before. something to do with being a clan kid, maybe?)
but then he clears his throat, hands moving to brush some sand off his puffy jacket and jeans. turning on his heel, hair ruffled by the breeze. he tries to sound chipper, but there’s something else there. you don’t know what it is, but…
”anyway,” he chirps. ”let’s go. we can still make it to the next train if we hurry.”
you look at him. his retreating figure, a head of white hair, surrounded by mist. a little like an apparition. then you turn towards the sea.
”… nah, that’s fine.”
a pause.
gojo stills, just about to take the first step forward. but you stay rooted in place; unmoving, staring at the blue before you, a deep longing reflected in your eyes. 
”let’s stay a little longer,” you hum, unsure of where the words came from. but you know you aren’t ready for the moment to end, just yet. that you aren’t quite ready for summer to pass.
all he does is stare, for a second or two. attempting to find some humour in your voice, you assume, any signs that you might just be joking. but he doesn’t find it. uncharacterstically silent, gojo stays frozen in place. 
then he puffs out a breath — amused. 
”you wanna freeze to death?” he grins, and you can hear it in his voice. you turn to face him, almost smiling. a little cheeky.
”you’ll warm me up, no?”
the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in. meant to sound a little snarky, you think, something akin to a chuckle — but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request. 
the tips of your ears feel a little warm, suddenly.
a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of gojo’s face, and his grin falters. you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if they widen or not, but his lips part, and you note that they look soft. 
and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy, from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you.
he throws an arm over your shoulder. a heavy weight against you, grounding, causing you to stumble. friendly, tugging you close. into his orbit.
(no infinity, you note. you can feel his body heat seeping through the fabric.)
it's nice. he's tall, and he's warm. cozy, protecting you from the bitter cold, like your own personal furnace. no wonder suguru never catches any colds, with someone like this draped over him all the time.
gojo speaks. there’s a sweetness to his voice, a mellow kind of contentment; bubbling up like seafoam, spilling from his glossy lips. you can feel his warm breath on your skin.
”well, duh.”
when your gaze falls on him, he's already looking at you. leaning closer, sunglasses slipping a little further down the bridge of his nose — enough to expose the blue of his eyes, the tiny splotches of white scattered across his aquamarine iris. like a cracked marble. or a summer sea.
he’s speaking again, and you almost don't hear it. distracted by those cracked marbles, the strawberry red of his cheeks, the warmth shared between you. the pitter patter of your heartbeat, like waves crashing against the sand. mesmerized. not daring to look away. almost like you’d cease to exist, were he to close his eyes. like your existence hinges entirely on the blue of those eyes.
(and maybe it does.)
he nods towards the sea, and grins. a mischievous glint in his eyes. ”wanna take a dip?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
it makes you laugh, either way.
”do you want to freeze to death?” you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. subtly angling your body closer to his, hoping he won’t notice.
gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now? 
”hehe. i just think it'd be fun!” he chirps, still draped over you like an overgrown cat, and you almost find yourself saying yes. just to keep the summer from ending, keep him from being swept away by the breeze.
but summer is ending. slipping away, second by second, like two juveniles drowned by an ocean wave. never to be found. and in comes autumn, the smell of rotting apples, the crunch of sand beneath your feet; an arm over your shoulder, an intake of breath. the taste of nice, crispy air on your tongue. 
a chuckle flows from your lips. all you see before you is blue, a murky shade, a vibrant hue. you think you could drown in it. you’re not sure you’d mind.
”maybe next time,” you whisper.
gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, until they bloom — with a kind of bubbly excitement. unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe.
you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate. 
satoru gojo. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. a seaborne boy with his very own orbit, born to carry the weight of the world, spinning so close that you can almost delude yourself into thinking he feels the same. 
almost.
(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.)
556 notes · View notes
mistysblueboxstuff · 1 year
Text
i wish i could tell kid me who spent her summers drawing and making stuff out of everything she could get her hands on that she'd still be making stuff in the summer of 2023
but I don't think she'd believe me anyway xD
148 notes · View notes
canisalbus · 1 year
Note
I've always wanted to ask how you can draw an oc that you know has a bad end/dies in their story. You are stronger than me and I'd love to know what motivates you
I know I'm in a minority on this and most OC creators don't think about their characters' deaths, but it's never bothered me much honestly. The way I see it, if I know how their life starts and how it ends, it's much easier to figure out what happens in the middle.
296 notes · View notes
neil-neil-orange-peel · 7 months
Text
There will forever be, I think, a part of my brain where Rick, Vyvyan, Neil, and Mike run riot in the House on Codrington Road.
43 notes · View notes
beneaththefloorboards · 11 months
Text
To my fellow lesbians: I have found something even more lonely than the experience of being around your friends while they're all talking about men.
Let me tell you what happened
I never expected to experience this, as I am the only lesbian I know and while I have plenty of sapphic friends, none of them have ever been in a serious relationship with a woman. That in itself makes me feel quite isolated. But the other day I went to this event that I was so excited for, you see: it was a ball!! A real gothic/victorian/dark academia esque ball in an old art museum with classical music and ballroom dancing!! I was beyond excited and it was a perfect evening, and my heart was elated when I saw how many wlw were there attending... until I realised they were all there as couples.
Except for a few friend groups I was the only single lesbian.
In a room full of wlw couples.
And my heart was so torn. I was so happy for them, for a lot of them were much younger than me and to think that they already knew who they were and were able to date freely (unlike I who repressed my sexuality until I was 23). But I was also hit by this enormous wave of sadness. Of loneliness.
And I wanted to share this story here because, again, I am the only lesbian I know. And I doubt my friends will understand exactly the feeling I was feeling that day. Of being in a room full of people who share your experience for the first time, but at the same time feeling so lonely because you repressed who you are for so long and so you're suddenly overcome with so much longing and jealousy and regret 🖤💀
67 notes · View notes
paint-it-dead · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
He couldnt take the idea of being an inanimate object of somebody else's desire one more fucking time,- a reality where he had no agency or choice of his own in, again, - so he doomed her into it. HE DOOMED HER INTO IT!!!!!
29 notes · View notes
sudokuplayer · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
142 notes · View notes
silver-survey · 4 months
Text
Choleric, Melancholic, Sanguine, Phlegmatic
Me:
Tumblr media
Here the test.
Feel free to suggest any poll you would like to see via chat or comment or ask :)
16 notes · View notes
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
True love is possible only in the next world. For new people. It it too late for us.
(Redraw for @pakhnokh's DTIYS post!)
1K notes · View notes
chepib3 · 3 days
Text
in my opinion jason was very much the type of kid that would storm to his room after a fight with bruce and hide under the sheets and imagine his very tragic death where everyone would feel so bad for not paying enough attention to him
10 notes · View notes
saamaton · 2 months
Text
very enjoyable friday night: getting a bit drunk on white wine, having fresh peas and fresh pizza, watching the olympics and lost, panic cleaning my flat, writing in my diary etc etc
7 notes · View notes
itwasrain · 5 months
Text
Leise flüstert die Sonne zu mir. Und beim vorbeiziehen Moos bewachsener Mauern , scheint die Welt nun fern. Von goldenem Licht gekrönte Bäume ,schauen auf mich herab , während alte Erinnerungen mit jedem Schritt an mir vorbeiziehen. Ich ließ dich hier ,verborgen ,bewacht von steinernen Treppen und Kirschblüten. Der leichte Geruch aus Blumen vergangener Leidenschaft ,vermischt sich mit dem warmen Duft der Wiesen. Ich lasse mich mitreißen , mit einem Lächeln , ins Echo der Zeit.
11 notes · View notes
tanicus-caesareth · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
guarana drama, damage control
13 notes · View notes
jlnnlj · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
. . .
12 notes · View notes