What Is This Sorcery - Tumblr Posts

"What is this Sorcery"

Tomorrow’s this bastard’s birthday so I had to try my hand at drawing him for the first time.

Are you ever going to continue posting on the rp blog? (I’m specifically asking about @/officiallysoukoku )

maybe? Ive got like 12 chem assignments piled up rn and a competition soon so it might take a while

Im also slipping out of the bsd fandom a little bit (blame subnautica and the daycare attendant)

Holy fuck chile kskdksoakcjjajajsjd

An Alex Turner appreciation post

Because this man- uufff.

The way moves 💀 RIP me

Nuff said

Nothing can convince me that he isn't imagining about his gf or whoever he wrote this song for here. His hand. The mic and the stand be lucky.

Ha! Cheeky.

Suspenders+those hair. Me is ded

Arrogant Cocky Bastard

And whatever makes people think I wouldn't make a post on Matt Helders. And one on them together. Are wrong.

really helpful technique ^ once you know how to divide by halves and thirds it makes drawing evenly spaced things in perspective waaay easier:

They truly are THE Maestro...

As we complete this work together, I see us finally becoming one. Even with complex pitches and rhythms, I’ll always be with you.

SEVENTEEN – MAESTRO (2024)

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi loses his wedding ring. 

Pairing: Sakusa / f! reader

Genre: Unadulterated fluff

Wordcount: 600

Link to Masterlist

Previously: Sakusa Kiyoomi. Bokuto Koutaro. Kuroo Tetsuro. Akaashi Keiji

You open the door to find your home in a complete mess. 

The sofa is slanted (Omi loves his right angles so he’s going to scream), the coffee table is upended (how did it even do that), hell, even your frying pans are scattered all over the kitchen floor. Your first thought is that you’ve been burgled. In hindsight, that’s a pretty laughable assumption – come on, no burgler would be take the trouble of excavating the contents of your fridge.  

But at this juncture, rational thought escapes you as you barge into the house with shoes askew, because Omi should be home by now and if anyone dares to harm even one precious, curly strand of hair on his head you will stab them with your sharpest stilettos– 

“Omi, what’s going on?” 

Sakusa Kiyoomi, all of six foot four, stares up at you from under your bedframe with the air of a mournful cat, one that’s lost its favourite toy and desperately needs its owner’s help to hunt it down.  

You stifle the demented laugh that’s threatening to tear its way through your chest, choosing instead to take a seat on the floor next to your husband, who only huffs instead of verbalizing his complaints. 

“You wanna tell me what happened, darling?” 

He wriggles out from beneath the bed, deliberately avoiding your gaze. “Hey, none of that”, you coo, cupping his cheeks to gently turn his face towards you. “You know you can tell me anything right? What’s bothering you, Omi?” 

You can feel the heat diffusing from his cheeks to the skin of your fingertips when he mumbles almost shamefacedly – “I lost my wedding ring”. 

“Oh”, you tilt your head, mildly confused. “Okay. Shall we get another one then?” 

Kiyoomi glances at you in surprise, mouth falling open. 

“You’re not mad?” 

Your brows pinch together. “No, not at all…Why would I be?” 

“My wedding ring is supposed to be a symbol of my commitment to you, to our marriage”, each syllable trembling with the stress he places on it. “And – and I lost it”. 

“Oh, Kiyoomi”. You drop an affectionate kiss to each dark mole on his face, your way of comforting your husband when he loses himself in his head, when worries plague his mind. 

“It’s just a piece of metal, sweetheart. Who cares if you lose it? Our vows to each other haven’t changed. In good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer –“

“I’ll love and honour you all the days of my life”, he murmurs, a soft smile on his face. 

You find yourself blinking away tears.

“Until death do us part, Omi. Nothing is going to change that. Not you losing your ring, nothing.” 

“Yeah?” 

You gather him into your arms, let him tuck his head under your chin. You count your lucky stars that this beautiful, sweet man has deemed you fit to be the caretaker of his heart for life. 

“Yeah.” 

You both stay that way for a while, Omi curled up in your arms, pliant and completely content until your stomach growls in protest. 

“We’re gonna need to clean the kitchen up so I can feed myself, as much as I love snuggling on the floor.”

Omi makes a sound of protest. 

“Come on, up! Hey, maybe the vacuum cleaner got hungry too and ate your ring – “

You regret your words as Omi strides off, snapping on a pair of gloves, glaring malevolently at the innocent robot vacuum. 

“OI DON’T TAKE THAT APART!”

Aha ha biggest kin moment here and I dont like it but also kinda love it

[9:57 PM]— SUNA RINTARO

“I’m sorry.” Suna Rintaro looks at you with sunken eyes, standing a distance away from you helplessly, watching as you rolled your eyes and continued folding your clothes. He supposes this could be worse. You could be folding your clothes to leave, he reasons, he should be grateful it’s just the laundry. 

But his stomach doesn’t feel any less heavy, and his conscience is oh so guilt-ridden.   

“Whatever, Rinatro. Come fold your laundry,” you say sternly, and he doesn’t like it. Suna’s only ever used to gentleness from you, a fondness that was hazy, blurred around the edges, undefined. The line where it started met no end. Suna had long given up trying to figure out the extent of your love. He figured as long it was his, he’d make it work. 

But Suna was also never a favorite. He wasn’t a favorite student, nor was he ever a favorite friend, and he certainly was no one’s favorite teammate. He was pretty sure he wasn’t ever even his parents’ favorite child— even when he was their only one. 

For a long time he was okay with that. He was okay with standing off to the side, and he was relieved when eyes weren’t on him, when no one but himself had bestowed to him the crushing weight of expectations. But as love often did to one, he’d changed his ways for you. 

Evidently not enough. 

“Baby, I really am sorry—”

“Are you? Are you really? Because I don’t know if you are,” you spat harshly, and Suna almost recoiled, like you were a predator and he was your prey. He wasn’t used to this feeling, and he was scared. Scared of letting you down, and scared of not being enough. Or worse. Scared of never having the potential to be enough in the first place. It felt like he was always reaching, but he could never quite get a grasp. 

“I am,” he whispers, and his voice is almost frail. 

Okumaya devam et

The guys in classy outfits

this is so real

i am a legit rizz god with my girl but when it comes to my guy, hayye rabba dil alag pighal jata hai

not me being a literal Romance God around my girlfriends but also forgetting that communication is a thing, infront of the guy I actually crush on

jungkook for weverse magazine

YOONGI & JUNGKOOK ARE LITERALLY WEARING THE SAME OUTFIT I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE THEY SWAPPED PLACES | Cr twt  THICJ00N

please tell me this is a joke

It's actually excel?!!!

Some Excel bishie

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