Huehuehue - Tumblr Posts
^this but poorly drawn cause I felt like drawing, but it’s also 5 am and I haven’t slept
Drawings below the cut
—Random School Game Show—
Host: And for your final question! Please identify this statue.
Ace: …Like are we supposed to know that??-
MC: *slaps buzzer* A 20TH CENTURY RENAISSANCE STYLE GOAT GARGOYLE-
Host: CORRECT!
Deuce: How could you have possibly guessed that?
MC: I attend all of Malleus’s Gargoyle Appreciation meetings.
Malleus: *from a distance within the crowd* YOU DO CAAAAAARRREEEEE!!!!
Concepts. Don’t know if I’ll keep the metal nose/beak.
Yay for freckle-spots.
Forcing my cousins to watch Teen Beach Movie because of Maia Mitchell so that I can soon indoctrinate them into also watching The Artful Dodger for Thomas Brodie Sangster ;)
⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏⠀ ͏͏͏͏͏͏JUST YOU AND ME CHAPTER TWO ʚ﹕gender neutral/no pronouns ʚ﹕AO3 vers // masterlist // series masterlist // 1.1k ʚ﹕chapter one - stay with yuuji
ʚ﹕warnings // a wedding, mentions of an affair, reader eats fish and meat, sukuna is an asshole ʚ﹕comment // please read!!! if you never read the first chapters note, this is a choose your own adventure style fic with a poll at the bottom for you to choose what you do next! choices are ambigious and lead to different results so go with your heart! the next chapter will be posted in 24 hours as soon as the poll finishes. once the final chapter has been posted, i will post the rest of the options too! everything is written out already and you'll be able to read what you wanted if your vote never won or you're curious about other decisions.
thank you again for all the love and the tags everyone has left!!! its been really fun and interesting hearing what u guys think hehe i'm interested to see where the poll will go this time since i didn't expect the results last time! i hope u enjoy ♡
ʚ﹕18+ only // minors and ageless blogs dni
The day continued on as you’d expected; greeting any guests you come across, thanking them for their congratulations and telling everyone the exact same thing: You’re happy and you’re grateful they have come to celebrate with you both. It was a song and dance you fell into so easily – so easily that you’d totally forgotten about Sukuna.
After all guests were accounted for and dinner was served, you sat at a long table next to your husband facing the crowd. Family and friends on both yours and Yuuji’s side had come to celebrate your big day. It was even more overwhelming than your ceremony, so many people showed up to give their love and support to your relationship that it brings a tear to your eye.
How devastated would they all be if it turns out you made a mistake? How angry if you wasted everyone's time and money for something you might not have ever wanted, but convinced yourself it was the right choice. You love Yuuji, yet you can’t help but wonder if this was the decision you were supposed to make, no matter how he makes you feel.
Thankfully Yuuji hadn’t noticed the frown on your face or the cloud that hung above your head, mentally wiping them both away before he saw. Sitting up straight, you take a deep breath to compose yourself. Your eyes landed on Sukuna again but thankfully he was keeping himself busy – for now. His grandfather had roped him into a conversation at the same table he sat at before, talking to the man with such seriousness you’ve always seen in your now-grandfather-in-law.
From this angle, Sukuna’s jaw looks immaculate. Strong and defined, unlike Yuuji. They looked the same but so different even without the tattoos. Your husband maintained his soft features, a rounder jaw that made him seem all the more innocent. Sukuna, with his pronounced nose and sharp features spelt trouble in every way possible.
You can’t be sure how long you’d been staring, but it was long enough for the man in question to have noticed. Refocusing your vision, you lock eyes with Sukuna and your heart just about stops. You’d been ogling at him carelessly, drinking up all his features like this wasn’t your wedding day to another man. While your heart already felt like it was in your throat, the easy smile Sukuna offered and cheeky wink had that same heart fluttering painfully. If you didn’t think it would raise more questions, you’d crawl underneath the table and hide beneath the gorgeous white cloth.
Finally, dinner was served and you had something to look and think about — other than how much you might like Sukuna and if you’re even worthy to have married someone as wonderful as Yuuji. You tried to keep a brave face, smiling as though this is still the best day of your life, that there isn’t a black hole in your chest that has swallowed your heart and continues to attack all your other organs.
“Oh you got the red snapper!” Yuuji says from beside you, leaning in slightly to see the dish you had been playing with. “It looks really good…”
You’ve known your husband for long enough to know what that’s supposed to mean, smiling to yourself as you continue to waft away the dark clouds that persistently hang over your head. “Yeah, do you want a bite?”
Yuuji had ordered the steak dish; he was a fan of foods from all around the world, so you’d both opted for a mix between a traditional menu and some of his western favourites for everyone to enjoy.
Your husband nods eagerly in response to your question, watching and waiting patiently as you set some of the flaky meat onto your bowl of rice, picking up a small portion between your chopsticks and turning towards Yuuji. It’s cute the way he opens his mouth for you, almost like you’re feeding a child; it makes you giggle when pulling your chopsticks away.
He hums, rolling the food around in his mouth. “Good?” You ask and Yuuji smiles, holding up his hand to create an ‘o’ with his finger and thumb.
“That was really tasty – we should swap.” He says and playfully grabs your plate to pull it towards him.
You laugh and nudge him away, “Hey! Back off, you got steak!”
“You can have it, I want yours.” Yuuji giggles, kissing your cheek as you lean into him, hand still threatening to swap your plates.
“No!” You cry out and pout. “Let me try yours.”
Yuuji cuts a piece of his meat for you, even adding a small dollop of mashed potatoes to the fork and feeding you. It was only a little intentional when you mimicked him; nodding your head, humming as you chew, giving him the same hand signal when he asks if you like it.
“So you’ll swap?”
“No.” You smile and laugh at Yuuji’s pout, leaning in for a brief kiss before returning to your food. “I like mine more.”
After everyone had eaten, it was time for the speeches. The first one you weren’t worried about; Gojo Satoru took the stage like a professional and gave a wonderful speech that kept everyone in high spirits. He told embarrassing stories of Yuuji being his student and their latest mishappenings at work, about the first time he’d met you and how the poor man was more nervous about Gojo’s approval than his own grandfather – that one didn’t go down well with the old man. But it kept you at ease for the possible storm that was about to come when Sukuna snatched the microphone away from the white haired man.
Your stomach churned, your heart ached and you couldn’t look anywhere but the table cloth before you. Counting the invisible stitches in the linen, you were still painfully aware of every word that came out of his mouth. It was only right for your husband's brother to speak at his wedding, especially because they’re so close.
All was going fine until one line caught your attention.
“...From the moment you were born I had to learn how to share things with you, a skill that’s been useful throughout our entire lives. Even though you’re married now, we're still going to continue sharing. Isn’t that right?”
Your heart stops. Totally and completely dead. All blood has stopped pumping and your mind stops working.
Your name is attached to the end of that rhetorical question.
Your name is attached to the end of that rhetorical question.
Finally, you look up just to make sure you heard him right. Sukuna stares back at you, microphone hovering over his chest with a wicked smile on his face.
That asshole.
(if you didn't read the comment) here is where you vote for the next chapter! pick what you would do next and the next chapter will be posted after the poll has finished
note: wanna be tagged when the next chapter comes out? send me an ask off anon and i'll add you to a taglist for this mini series!
taglist: @samaraxmorgan @sweetlandspos @yuujispinkhair @rinsaene @icepip @skunkfeet
omw to make a sandwich yippee!!!!!! and eat funyuns delish
hggbbhh…
eehhuugghh. chimkn brobtg, my beloved
all the young dudes carry the news!
reblog to pour a glass of water on the head of the person you reblogged from
ᕱ⑅ᕱ ۪ ۫ 〜 ꒰ 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝓁𝓊𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇𝒷𝓎, 𝒻𝓁𝓎, 𝒻𝓁𝓎. al haitham x f!reader. sfw. reader is in a skirt ノ some playful bicker ◞ some kisses ◞ some naughty touches ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა ノ jus fluffy stuffs ꒰ྀི 1.2k wc
you’re taller than al haitham as children— all dangly, clumsy fawn legs where he’s only a baby sapling that’s just begun to sprout from the soil.
even with his fluffy mop of slate hair, the tippy top of his head reaches under your chin, and it takes two of his strides to match one of your own.
perhaps it’s rude and not at all like you or your mother had taught you, but it’s so much fun teasing him about it— the ‘know-it-all’ little brat of a schoolmate who you consistently place second to, who won’t play with you at lunch break and sighs in boredom as often as he breathes and so evidently does not belong in a classroom of children his age.
it’s so much fun watching him struggle to reach for a book on the fourth shelf, one that you pick out with ease (but certainly cannot read with ease), hand to him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, ruffle his hair and seemingly disregard him with a giggle, a lax wave of your hand.
"looks like you're too short to reach that shelf, haithie. i guess it just can’t be helped!”
neither the book he’s been wanting to read for weeks nor the strap of his suspender sliding off his shoulder have his attention now that you’ve stolen all of it for yourself.
his head tilts curiously and he looks on in a bit of a stunned daze as you skip off to the section of the library that houses picture books and fairytales, two pigtails swaying side to side and the heels of your loafers scuffing along the carpet and he thinks you’re akin to a butterfly— or flutterby, as you like to call them— prancing about in that carefree way you tend to do.
haithie.
what a peculiar feeling the nickname brings him— a certain eagerness, childlike joy bubbling in his tummy and giving rise to something that he can’t seem to place a name to.
(no one’s ever called him by a nickname before. it’s… nice. just nice, and nothing else. yes, that’s correct… nothing else.
…
his face warms at the realization.)
and then he hears you squeal, watches you trip and tumble to the ground, scrape your palms and sit there pathetically on your knees with your shoulders slumped over.
what a clumsy little flutterby you are.
tiny hiccups are peeled from your throat and you begin to cry softly, and al haitham worries. his feet move on their own when he walks toward you, digging in his knapsack for the last bandage he has left.
“take this.” the boy who you think dislikes you speaks to you for the first time, so you look up at him for the first time, lips wobbly and lashes sticky and cheeks glistening.
his face, however, is unchanging; he is as straight-lipped as you’d expect him to be, brows set in concentration and eyes sharp, piercing.
(but if you look closely, you’d see how the edges are clouded in concern, blunted down and soft and tender and caring— all the things you’d expect him not to be.)
“you really ought to be more careful,” he leans down to your level, wags the bandage in front of your face, “how will you be able to take notes in class if you hurt your hands?”
“you… you…”
his words present themselves to you as a challenge and it makes you seethe, furrow your brows, scrunch up your nose, frown.
al haitham swears there must be fumes coming out of your ears.
“you’ll get wrinkles if you keep pouting like that.”
“don’t pater— pat— hmph! don’t patronize me!” you yap the too-difficult word awkwardly, snatch the bandage from his hand and run off, cheeks swollen like freshly puffed corn, either from the pain stinging at your palms or in embarrassment at having made a fool of yourself in front of your very first, very real, perhaps unrequited, and only love.
two decades later and you're standing uncomfortably with one knee up on the kitchen counter, tippy toes barely brushing the tile floor as you aimlessly reach for the spice tin sitting at the top of the pantry.
you grapple at air, slide your hand over to the left of the shelf, and to the right, and to the left again, and then you think you finally have it when you feel cool metal graze over your fingertips. stretching, wiggling your fingers as far as you can, you hook a nail under the side clasp and drag it to the ledge of the shelf; you have it, until—
“ow!” your hand flys down to the top of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up in your position that has you rather exposed, to where two lithe fingers much larger than your own surprise you with a pinch, and then a cheeky squeeze of your rear.
“need help with that?” before you can register it, your husband reaches up with ease to take the spice tin in his own hand, shaking it in front of your face almost tantalizingly.
you frown.
(but then you catch sight of the flex of his bicep as he brings it to your level, the veins lining his forearms, his fingers drumming playfully over the tin. and your frown lessens.)
“haithie, i almost had it!” you lower yourself to the ground and whine, craning your neck up towards al haitham. it’s merely a second after that he raises the spice tin high in the air with a pompous smirk on his face that only serves to make him even more handsome, higher up than the top shelf of the pantry and certainly too high for you to reach.
his grin widens when you bounce on the balls of your feet, grip at his shirt and use it for leverage as you try so, so hard to take the tin from him. to no avail, of course.
you furrow your brows and puff out your cheek, look up at him as if you were about to throw a tantrum and then he’s brought back 20 years to his school library, akademiya-prep physics textbook in his hands and you splayed on the floor in front of him with your pigtails and scraped palms and blubbery cheeks and sullen little flutterby wings.
“you’re such a meanie.”
"and you're too short to reach that shelf, darling,” he muses, eyes swimming with hazy mirth as he finally holds out the spice tin for you to grab, watches on with a tender smile as you hug it to your chest and release a dissatisfied little hmph!
you’re older now, shorter than him now— your lips are fuller and your cheeks are dimpled with smile lines, but your childish peevishness has remained. perhaps it’s one of the things that endears him most to you.
and then he’s placating you the way he knows best, running his knuckles adoringly along the lift of your cheekbone because you’re just so cute when you get all pouty and petulant like this, because you melt under his touch like cream in the sun, because your pout softens and before you realize it you’re biting on your lip to hold back a giggle.
oh, how quickly he’s able to soothe your heart like this. his little flutterby.
"i guess it just can’t be helped.”
𐂯 ‧₊˚ thanku for reading i hope u luv teasing hubbie haithie as much as i doooo :3 🌈🍀💝☮️ ! ! consider reblogging or leaving a comment if u enjoyed ෆ
I posted 93 times in 2021
73 posts created (78%)
20 posts reblogged (22%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 0.3 posts.
I added 250 tags in 2021
#ts3 - 49 posts
#the sims 3 - 49 posts
#sims 3 - 49 posts
#sims 3 gameplay - 23 posts
#text - 18 posts
#ts3 gameplay - 18 posts
#faeora - 18 posts
#misc - 10 posts
#bugge legacy - 8 posts
#bugge gen 1 - 8 posts
Longest Tag: 57 characters
#and if anyone is wondering why i havent included her name
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
i’ve been on a sims making spree in whatever game i’ve felt like opening...so here’s some ts4 girls!
61 notes • Posted 2021-06-21 10:11:58 GMT
#4
This is Juniper Bugge..I’m finally gonna do a legacy challenge and ACTUALLY stick to it this time!
65 notes • Posted 2021-05-13 14:08:59 GMT
#3
patiently waiting for @squea to make this a default blend 👀
this skin is beautiful, thank you so much for sharing!!
74 notes • Posted 2021-07-31 01:18:04 GMT
#2
sherrie filth, lead singer of punk rock band filth (obviously)
/( .□.)\ ︵╰(°益°)╯︵ /(.□. /)
99 notes • Posted 2021-11-10 13:21:23 GMT
#1
140 notes • Posted 2021-07-21 03:46:00 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
uhhh the fuckin uhhh
(ooc) Shifty ask/rpish blog ran by @kleptopopsicle Here are a few things to note + some rules - Mod is 14, muse is 28. You can call the mod Klepto or Jack. - Multishipper/Crackshipper. Open to ship stuff. (Shifty is bisexual (male lean) and polyamorous. No OC x canon though, please. Nothing against it, I just don’t know you guys’ OCs very well lmao) - Mod and muse use he/him and nothing else. - No NSFW, jokes are fine they’re funny asf lmao (Go too far with them and you’re blocked.) - Feel free to send more than one question at once. You can ask as a character or yourself. (OCs allowed.) - Some asks will simply be responded to with text and possibly just a screenshot of Shifty. Might doodle something to go along with them. - Note that I have school on weekdays. Try not to send too much stuff at once on those days. - Don’t expect super quick responses. I don’t check Tumblr very often. - Don’t ask Shifty anything related to the deaths that happen in HTF, the characters in my hc/AU don’t remember/know anything about that. - Posts with (ooc) at the start of them are written out of character. - Feel free to ask anything else you’d like to know.
I drew this a long time ago. Don't ask why, because I don't know either haha.
(๑⁍᷄౪⁍᷅๑)
krow’s prompt.. uhh, a little context:
a body has been discovered!
“please, listen to me. dont open that door.”