Nanami: Is That Your Hand On My Ass? Gojo: Yep, It Was An Accident. Nanami: Your Hand Is Still On My

pete davidson is so pretty stfu 😩

Last Week Tonight, March 16, 2022

I'm absolutely feral for this man.

How worthless.

I'm still obsessed with this Sukuna shot.... I really liked the shadow play vibes from it

𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄

written by kageyuji

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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — Akaashi has had a crush on you from the moment he met you; the most he ever acted on those feelings was when he became your best friend. Bokuto didn’t think it would have caused so much trouble to introduce you to Kuroo.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Kuroo x Reader x Akaashi

𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞: Friends to lovers, angst

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: jealousy, hints at underage drinking, sexual jokes/innuendos, swearing

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬: they/them

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: finished

⦿⦿⦿

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 \|/ 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩

chapter 1 ‣ the past

chapter 2 ‣ empathy is wisdom

chapter 3 ‣ timezones

chapter 4 ‣ akaashi’s foot kink

chapter 5 ‣ y/n is bread

chapter 6 ‣ ground rules

chapter 7 ‣ promise

chapter 8 ‣ not a drill

chapter 9 ‣ one of you

chapter 10 ‣ a chance

chapter 11 ‣ bzzzzz

chapter 12 ‣ breaking point

chapter 13 ‣ annie wahyze

[AKAASHI] [KUROO]

chapter 14 ‣ goodbye chapter 14 ‣ i shan’t

chapter 15 ‣ did i ask? chapter 15 ‣ arson

chapter 16 ‣ visible anxiety chapter 16 ‣ ty

chapter 17 ‣ telling him chapter 17 ‣ ice cream

chapter 18 ‣ wrong picture chapter 18 ‣ whore

chapter 19 ‣ found it chapter 19 ‣ leg surgery

chapter 20 ‣ better chapter 20 ‣ promise (pt 2)

There's two types of ways Sukuna fans are dealing with chapter 268. Some are grieving the loss of the King of Curses. Others...

Others, like me, are embracing that Blobkuna life.

It was an average Monday morning when you, Nanami Kento's wife, were turned into a cat.

"An unusual Curse," Shoko had said, "not longer than a week, surely--"

"Not--not longer than a week?!" Kento spluttered, his glasses lopsided, and, dangled in front of him beneath the arms (legs-- legs, he reminded himself)...you.

You, with two pointed ears, a long whippy tail, your many toe-beans and a perturbed little head-tilt. On the doctors' office couch, a neatly folded (if a little furry) pile of your clothes.

"Meow," you had said.

"Don't 'meow' me," Kento spluttered again, fixing you with a stern look that barely overlaid his concern. You simply stared up at him, long, and feline, and unblinking...and reached out one little paw, pressing it onto the end of his nose.

Kento sighed; a bone-deep, weary sigh. Shoko put out her cigarette, speaking through a haze of smoke.

"Like I said. Give it a week, and Mrs.Nyanyami will be back to nor--"

"What did you just call her?'

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Mrs.Nyanyami, the cat formerly known as Nanami Kento's wife, wanted for nothing.

"I think that tuna's more expensive than anything I've ever eaten," whispered Yuuji to Gojo. On the other side of the conference room, you sat upon the desk before Kento, waiting patiently for the next lump of tuna (meticulously cut into cat-appropriate cubes) to be delivered in his chopsticks.

As Kento's hand approached, you held it close with paw and claws, to steal the pink fish from him. He looked like a surgeon performing heart surgery.

"I just...dont know how he can look so serious while he's doing that," Gojo whispered back, to Yuuji's frantic nods. Still, they watched this freakish nature documentary with quiet obsession.

A higher-up sat down beside Kento, waiting for the meeting to begin. Jolting back, and grumbling, he did a double take.

"Young man-- you can't bring a cat to a Sorcerer's meeting--"

"That's not a cat," Kento snapped, frosty, "that's my wife."

And so began the rumour amongst the higher-ups, that Nanami Kento had gone mad.

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"You should leave her at home--"

"--absolutely not--"

"--really, Nanami...just put the television on, she'll be fine--"

"--unequivocally, no--"

"--why not?!"

Silence. An awkward shuffle on Kento's thick chest. You peeked your head out of the pocket of the cat-carrying hoodie that Kento wore over his shirt and tie, and turned to Gojo with narrowed eyes.

"Meow," you had said, batting at Kento's strings, and hooking his tie out with your paw, to kick it to death with your legs.

"I agree," said Kento, whispering and scratching you beneath the chin until you purred, "he's wrong, isn't he? Stupid Gojo. You'd get lonely. You'd get bored. Yes you would..."

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"Oh my god...he's gorgeous...you should get his number--"

"--I'm not brave enough...you go. I'll get our coffees."

"--okay, okay..." The woman cleared her throat, sweeping her hair behind one ear with her best smile. Kento looked up from his coffee, with one finely raised eyebrow.

"Can I help you?" He lied, unwilling to help anyone at all before he'd finished his croissant.

"Hi, yeah, I just...can't help but notice you're sitting alone, and my friend-- well she-- she just wondered if she can have your number, and--"

The woman broke off into shrieks. Climbing up her leg, all claws and furry vengeance, was you. She shook her leg, shrieking. You hissed. Your cup of steamed milk clattered over the table, slopping everywhere.

"--o-oh my god-- oh my god, what the hell is this cat doi--"

"I'm sorry," Kento sighed, not sorry at all and dabbing his mouth with a napkin and doing absolutely nothing to help, "it's my cat. She doesn't like company--"

Hisses. Claws. Dirty feral yowls.

"Get this fucking thing off me--"

"I can't take you anywhere. No more steamed milk for you."

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At times, you seemed so human. At others, undeniably cat.

Kento would wake to clattering from the kitchen, bleary and feeling around for you, only to remember, and trace his hand up to the furry, round little patch you'd leave behind on your pillow. He allowed himself just a moment of misery, before getting up.

He followed the sounds of cups and kettle and coffee machine, and leaned against the doorway with sleep-mussed hair and a squinting, teenagerish glare.

You were up on the counter, all four paws and determination. You had gotten as far as switching the kettle and coffee machine on, and heaving the cupboard open with your tiny limbs. Kento watched as you tipped your head sideways, managing to drag two mugs out in your teeth. He winced as they almost smashed upon the counter.

"Come on," Kento rumbled, his voice rusty with sleep, "let me do that."

You meowed at him, batting at the air with one angry paw when he stepped closer. Kento huffed, raising his hands in surrender.

"Fine," he tutted, "but I'll pour the water."

"Meow."

"Why? Because you don't have opposable thumbs, darling."

The fur stood up along your spine. You turned around, and around, in a circle, then sat upright. You turned your back on him while you waited for the kettle to boil. Your tail flicked from side to side, irritable. Kento waited, too, reaching out one hand to stroke your ears.

You nudged your back paw out, and pushed his mug off the side to smash on the floor.

Silence.

"...what is wrong with y--"

"Meow."

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Skitterskitterskitter.

Distant meows.

Kento groaned, rubbing down his face. He checked the clock, frog-blinking; two in the morning. He groaned harder.

Skitterskitterskitter.

Thunk.

More distant meows.

"Please just come back to bed," Kento moaned into the hands pressed over his face.

SkitterskitterskitterSKITTERSKITTER-- rustlllleerussstle--

Directly over his face.

"Meow--"

"I am begging you--"

RustlerustleTHNKskitterskitterskitter.

Distant meows.

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"I miss you."

You raised your head to look at him. Your purring hitched. Your ears tilted.

Kento had murmured, his low voice barely audible. The only light in the living room was the ever-changing light of the television screen. Laid on his back on the sofa, with you curled on his chest, Kento stroked down your back with longing.

You crept up his chest, pressing your cold wet nose to his, and purred. Nose to nose, and cross-eyed, Kento could have cried.

"I really miss you," he repeated, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Your claws dug into his chest, just a little. You rub, rub, rubbed your warm furry head along his jaw until he sniffled, and gave a choked little chuckle.

He fell asleep with you on his chest that night. In so many ways, it was familiar; home. In so many others, you were gone forever.

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"Meow."

Kento shuffled. His chest felt heavy...warm. His belly felt warm, too. And his lap, and--

Kento's eyes shot open, his head lifting up from the couch.

You bit your lip, naked on top of him, and smiling. Human. An angel.

"Oh, my love," Kento moaned, crushing you to him in a bear hug from shoulder to toes, "you're back-- I missed you, I was so worrie--"

You batted an arm out, swiping last night's wine glass from the coffee table beside you, to shatter on the floor.

Silence. Kento blinked slowly, looking from the wine glass, to you. You felt your cheeks grow hot, swallowing hard.

"God, I...sorry, Kento. Force-- force of habit--"

I cannot express to you how heartbroken and absolutely livid I am. The fact that there are literal tears in his eyes, and you can see how broken and hurt he is by all of these shitty, ugly people spreading shitty, ugly late, is completely unacceptable. For him and for anyone even remotely close to going through the struggle of your own body fighting against you.

Acne is uncontrollable. It hurts. It’s annoying. The desperation that it can bring to just get rid of you can ruin your fucking day, week, or month if you let it. But it’s also: NORMAL. Everyone and their MOM gets acne, or has had some sort of breakout. It’s a part of life. It doesn’t matter how old or young, rich or poor, dirty or clean you are, it: happens. It’s a normal bodily function. The pores build up and betray us and there’s nothing we can do but treat it and give it it’s due time.

The works is light years beyond what it was before, but it’s still so shitty and so much more extensive now. To search your own name on Twitter and see those auto filled results has to be gut wrenching, and we know how strong Ethan is but I know he’s putting on a brave face for all of us becuase he wants to make a better impact with it. Even then, he’s worried about the people he cares about, the people he can help, before himself. He’s better than me. He’s too nice for blurring out that person’s name. Too respectful. That just proves the kind of man he is.

But the glossiness of those hazel eyes I’ll never forget and I’ll never forgive. If you’ve ever put someone down for their complexion, you’re the scum of the earth and you’re the ugliest of us all. Yes there’s bumps on his face but he’s still the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on, and the most beautiful soul I’ve ever encountered. He makes this world a better place, and he gives me hope for those kids that are younger and that are going through this and that are malleable and can understand that it’s okay to embrace our imperfections and that beauty isn’t skin deep after all.

Ethan, you’re gorgeous. You’re strong. You’re amazing. You’re a hero. I keep saying that. Keep that heart of a lion roaring inside you. The world needs it.

To the best of us. Cheers. #EthanDolanIsBeautiful

Happy Halloween from Irondad and his Spiderson! 🍬🎃🦇

sunday nights can be hard but just know that everything will turn out alright. this is gonna be your week. you’re gonna own it. you’ll get what you need done and something great is gonna happen. just u see. you got this.