#indigo hyacinth
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Hyacinth
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Top 5 colors
gwahhhdhdhskkfnd ok I love colors sm this is great
1) teal. I love virtually all shades of blue and green but the in between 'is this blue or green?' is p much tops, ESPECIALLY when water is this color
2) emerald green, my beloved
3) that really intense raspberry color, pinkish red? mwah
4) periwinkle
5) ok so yknow how when it's just snowed and it's this beautiful pristine pile of untouched snow, and the sun's basically gone down but it's not totally dark yet and so everything is tinted blue? so the snow looks silvery-blue? that.
#but also goldenrod and coral pink and orange (underrated) and indigo and the intense blue of hyacinths#the color of rust and turquoise (saw a turquoise water spring on vacation once and it was stunning) and citrine and--#LOVE colors#internet user demands answers#ask games
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🪻monochrome🪻
#fashion#lilac#purple#lavender#high fashion#stunning#periwinkle#blue#lila#hyacinth#monochrome#work outfit#glam#classic#day outift#summer#spring#Violet#classic coat#indigo#princess#amethyst#mauve#morado#iris#amaranthine#outfit inspiration
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In the grand Atterberry tradition, I threw together a sloppy backyard wedding.
#ts4 gameplay#ts4 legacy#ts4#sims 4#the sims 4#notsoberry#nsb5#pepper atterberry#jackie chandran#hyacinth atterberry#viorel atterberry#indigo atterberry#ianthe atterberry
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you are somebody that i want to keep ; satoru gojo
synopsis; you aren't sure what you have with satoru gojo, but you know that it’s good.
word count; 6.7k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, colleagues to friends to something unlabelled, you love each other though!!, fluff, hurt/comfort, very very soft, reader falls first but gojo falls harder, both of u are afraid of intimacy lol, a lil angsty if u squint, satoru gojo cherishing u for ~7k words straight <33
a/n; basically just a collection of moments between you and gojo throughout the years <33 (a significant amount of time has passed between each part!!) hes an emotionally repressed loser but i love him and he is smitten w u.
in the soft luminescence of daybreak, your kitchen looks something like a dream.
tainted with a hazy sunshine, simmering with warm colours and pleasant scents, it almost seems to sparkle in the peripheral of your vision. brimming with that feeling of home, a home you’ve broken your bones building, desperate to shape it into something safe — and you think you’ve done a pretty good job.
it’s soothing, comforting, all of these sensations. bleeding into each other like smudges of paint on a canvas; hyacinths blooming by the windowsill, espresso-flavored steam wafting up to the roof, soft meows stemming from the cats by your feet. absolute bliss.
indulging in a peace yet to be shattered by the strain of the working world, you rub the sleep from beneath your weary eyes. blinking and yawning like a drowsy child.
beyond the translucent glass of your windows, glimmering with the light of a sun soon to rise, the world is painted pink and indigo — save for that one hint of gold, a streak of honey slathered across the surface of the sky. fluffy clouds drift through the chilly air, melting in the wake of a new day, and you think they look a little like tufts of cotton candy. soft enough to sink your teeth into, if only the glass wasn’t in the way. keeping the cold out.
it’s a new day. a pleasant morning, sitting comfortably on the brink of dawn, before the city has a chance to rouse from its slumber.
a kind of solitude you so rarely get to bask in.
a false solitude, really. because, for once, there’s another human being in your home — one you don’t know nearly as well as you’d like, for him to be fast asleep on your couch, cheek smushed against the leather. snoring softly.
satoru gojo.
like this, he looks very… human. vulnerable. hair just slightly tousled, from tossing and turning on your not-so-comfortable couch, blindfold only covering one of his eyes and close to slipping off entirely. his expression has melted into one of something vaguely resembling relaxation, as close to unguarded as you assume he can physically get.
even in his sleep, he looks a little stiff. not entirely at peace; like a stray cat sleeping under the hood of a car.
(you’re curious. fascinated, maybe, by the loneliness that clings to the strongest person in the universe. by the paradoxical innocence of his grin.)
honestly, everything from last night is kind of a blur. you remember accompanying the strongest sorcerer on a mission, one long enough to leave you completely and utterly spent, fatigue nestled deep into your bones. remember gojo getting a sudden migraine, so earth-shattering that you thought he was going to keel over and throw up in the middle of the street.
then you remember bringing him back home with you. very hesitantly, only after he begrudgingly accepted the fact that he didn’t have much of a choice. because you were fucking exhausted, and so was he, and your apartment happened to be conveniently close. you remember him practically passing out on your couch, still somehow managing to crack a bad joke you can’t recall, while you went to collapse into the comfort of your bed.
and now you’re here. dyed in half-transparent sunbeams, caffeine bubbling in your veins, gazing at your sleeping coworker from your spot by the kitchen table. waiting for the world to open its weary eyes.
it’s still early. some part of you expects him to sleep a while longer, but you can’t say you’re particularly surprised when gojo begins to stir.
a splotch of sunshine splatters across your living room window, staining the floorboards, falling over the contours of his pretty face. in the light, he looks positively holy; white lashes, pale skin, plump lips. like a goddess.
when he opens his eyes, it’s even worse. a single iris cracked open, pooling with unbridled brilliance. eyes so blue they seem to cut through the stillness of the air.
(— and the world wakes up.)
a little groan slips from his lips, barely audible. with groggy movements, he brings a hand up to his face, obscuring the grating light of the sun flitting in. you think you can almost see the gears of his mind turn, as he takes notice of his surroundings, remembering what transpired just hours before.
faster than you thought, he regains some semblance of composure. huffing under his breath, as he forces himself into a sitting position.
it feels a little wrong, to see the closest thing this world has to a god act so human. be so human. morning-fatigued, just like you, wearing droopy eyelids and a soft, sleepy pout. a little disheveled. groggy with lost dreams.
when his gaze meets yours, you can’t control the breath that hitches pitifully in the back of your throat. a meek skip of your heartbeat, like you just saw something you shouldn’t have. oops.
gojo cracks a grin.
“.. watchin’ me sleep?” he calls out, cheeky. paired with a drowsy yawn. composed, unbothered, but there’s something almost performative about it, something you’re sure you’d miss if he wasn’t still in the process of collecting himself.
“good morning,” is all you offer him. ignoring his teasing remark. he doesn’t push it, to your surprise. “sleep well?”
a hum. absentminded, jovial. one of his large hands goes to adjust his blindfold, the other to fluff up his hair. kicking off the blanket you just barely had the energy to throw over him last night. your fluffiest one, warm enough to protect him from the chill gnawing at the windows. hopefully.
“like a log,” he quips, stretching idly, muscles straining under his baggy uniform. they must be sore, after that mission. or maybe he’s above such things.
choosing not to comment on his obvious lie, you put your lips against the ceramic of your cup. sipping from the bitter brew, a tinge of hazelnut on your tongue. letting him gather his bearings without you scrutinizing him. a little favor, one liar to another.
“thanks for letting me crash,” he grins, lazy. toothy. stumbling to his feet with a low groan, gaze flitting around the room — looking for the exit. “i’ll get outta your hair,” he mutters, and you raise a brow.
“not staying for breakfast?”
gojo stills. your question rings out, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen, into the living room.
his smile twitches, ever so slightly, in what you think must be surprise. then it’s back to normal; like putting on a mask, not allowing a sliver of weakness to slip through the cracks. he exhales a raspy chuckle, a sound that flows through the air and crawls down your spine.
”generous, aren’t you?” he hums, voice rich with amusement. dappling sunlight licks at the white locks of his hair.
you shrug. “i wouldn’t mind the company.”
the words climb up the walls of your throat, a little reckless, eager to catch a glimpse of the miracle before you. satoru gojo, framed by the simplicity of your home — somewhat hard to let go of. sunkissed skin, restless hands. a little out of tune. shifting from foot to foot, eager to get away.
(a little like a frightened fawn, you amuse yourself by thinking. he’s really more like the fox who scared it.)
you think he must be bit uncomfortable. forced to spend the night in a coworker’s apartment, one he doesn't even know that well, one he probably doesn’t have any intention of getting to know. still trying to politely excuse himself. persistent, stubborn.
maybe he didn’t expect this. maybe he was convinced he could sneak away, before you had a chance to wake up. maybe he thought you’d be all too eager to let him leave, and never speak of this again. maybe he’s not used to being wanted.
“ha… i’m flattered, believe me, but —“
“what do you usually eat?” you ask. cutting him off, gently, tapping your fingertips against the edge of the table. “for breakfast, i mean. i’ll whip something up.”
a chuckle slips from his lips. you can’t put your finger on it, but something about it bothers you. “really, there’s —“
“if you’re worried about inconveniencing me, don’t be.” you pause, unsure of what to say. but the words end up spilling out of your throat, oddly honest. ”it’s been a while since i had the chance to make breakfast for someone else.”
it’s strange, really, how intent you are on seeing this through. how much effort you’re putting into making him stay. you barely even know him. actually, you don’t know him at all — all you know is that his smile makes you happy and his strength makes you envious. that you aren’t afraid of him, even though you probably should be.
something about him just feels safe.
“i’m pretty good at making pancakes,” you hum, a small smile playing at your lips. polite, jovial. pale light flits in through the window and slips into its curve. ”do you want some? before we go to work.”
(something in his fingers twitch, when you say that tiny word; pancakes. a little tell. you just barely catch it, before it sputters out. before he reels it back in.)
a moment passes. slow, drawn out, a rubber band bound to snap.
gojo stands there, a very subtle contemplation etched into his features. behind him, your cats begin to scratch at the couch, but you don’t scold them. just waiting for something to happen. beyond the glass of your windows, the sun unfurls in the sky, stretching its arms to envelop the world.
he grins, suddenly. soft light reflecting off the white of his teeth. cocky, composed. not quite performative, a little more natural.
“well, if you insist.”
he strolls over to your side, just a tiny bit sluggish, lazy steps and comically long limbs. he must still be tired. but he takes a seat, right across from you, plopping down on the chair with an effortless air of confidence. lighthearted, leaning his elbows on the table, crossing his legs under it. comfortable. settling into his role.
you’re pleasantly surprised.
“how would you like them?” you ask, and you think some of your excitement may have spilled out with the question. if it did, gojo doesn’t comment on it. ”your pancakes.”
“with chocolate chips, please!” he shoots you a sweet smile. “and whipped cream on top.”
so demanding. for some reason, it makes the corners of your lips quirk up. kinda like a bratty younger brother.
“got it.”
the smell of dark chocolate hangs heavy in the air as you get to work, shuffling around the open space. all while gojo waits, patiently, tapping his foot under the table and staring out the window. leaning his jaw on the heel of his palm. listening to the humming of nightingales on the branches of the apple tree down on the ground, and the buzz of your old radio.
the kitchen fills with motion, sounds, smells. life. splotches of sunlight, crinkled cartons of orange juice. the clinking of plates. two tired adults, seated at the same table, indulging in a fleeting peace and the promise of something new. something almost concrete.
a small, precious moment. enough to make your fascination shift into something you know must be fondness. or close to it.
gojo grins at you, mouth full of pancakes, eagerly telling you about something the kids did last week. wolfing them down, chocolate smeared over his bottom lip. you laugh, and suddenly the world feels a little safer than it should. a little more intact.
you wonder what it means. where it’s going to lead. this feeling of something wonderful beginning, something you couldn’t stop if you wanted to.
a budding connection.
the city lays blanketed beneath a layer of thick snow. blurry pale dots dancing in the wind, obscuring the sky, frost engulfing every building in a bone chilling hug.
with a slight shiver, you dig your hands into the comfort of your pockets, seeking the fleeting warmth you find. admiring the frozen landscape before you, the hustle and bustle of people going about their day. the saffron light of the lamp posts, the glittering snow by your feet, the skeletal apricot trees and their bare branches. this monochrome city you find yourself in.
gojo exhales. strolling cheerily down the street, in tandem with you, a frosty breath to your left that scatters and melts into the open air. it smells minty.
today, he’s wearing black shades — like he usually is when you meet outside of work. it’s kind of nice. when you angle your face a certain way, you can almost see the blue pooling in his eyes, the white of his eyelashes.
he’s beautiful. he always has been. but like this, you think his beauty is simply unfair, highlighted by the winter wonderland you find yourselves in. mesmerizing, the red flush of his cheeks, how he hums along to some jolly tune playing from a little corner store further down the street. all bundled up, in a stylish overcoat and a nice scarf, untouched by the snowflakes fluttering about.
protected by his infinity, always. the silly god you call a friend.
he looks content, despite the cold that keeps nipping at your bare skin, smiling widely. blabbing on about the movie you’re about to watch, how he saw it back in high school but never thought it’d get a remake. how his friend thought it sucked but that friend always had bad taste so his opinion is irrelevant. how he has faith that you’ll like it.
(cute.)
distracted by the pretty man so close by, close enough to touch, you don’t look ahead. maybe just a little bit entranced. which would be fine, if you didn’t happen to be walking on the right side of the street —
crashing straight into a lamp post.
”owch!”
it’s sudden. and it’s a harsh collision, enough to leave your nose stinging, an ache that makes you whine. cursing under your breath as you take a couple steps back, hands reaching for the part of your face that took the brunt of the hit.
and gosh, is this embarrassing. you dance on the edge of death for a living, and here you are — whining over walking into a fucking lamp post. because you were too enamored by the beauty of your own coworker to pay attention to your surroundings.
a coworker who is currently looking at you, silently. having failed to warn you in time, stuck in his own memories, caught up in his in-depth, spoiler-filled review of a movie he’s been waiting to watch all week.
for a moment, all he does is blink. long eyelashes fluttering, like a dove flapping its wings.
then he starts laughing.
scratch that — gojo is downright cackling, thoroughly amused by your clumsy mishap, like he just saw the funniest thing in the world. laughter ringing out into the cold air, white breaths to compliment the red of your burning ears.
asshole.
with a harsh furrow of your brows, you attempt to look angry; but before long, your lips are curling up. infected by his joy. a soft punch to his shoulder is all you manage, biting back a little puff of laughter. you’re embarrassed.
(so embarrassed you don’t even notice how he puts his infinity down.)
”don’t laugh, you piece of shit!” you hiss, grinning even still, flushing and trying to ignore the curious glances you get from passersby. ”it really hurt!”
but gojo doesn’t stop. doesn’t even attempt to. you think he just grew even more amused, if anything, practically bending over from how hard he’s laughing — clutching his stomach.
”sorry, sorry — ’m just…” he tries to speak, taking deep breaths in between bursts of giggles. ”how the hell — how’d you —”
he stops trying. laughing, again.
and it’s a genuine laugh. a little wolfish, spilling out from his pretty parted lips, showing off his sharp teeth. from the very bottom of his gut, clear and bright, deep and infectious. melodic. shades close to slipping off the bridge of his nose, eyes tearing up behind them. trying to collect himself, muffled giggles turning to soft vapour in the cold air. dimples visible on his rosy cheeks.
and suddenly you can't think, can't speak, can only look at him and wonder how a human can be so very beautiful. how it’s metaphysically possible. like a crushed cluster of stars was given human form, a body of celestial light.
he looks so young, like this. a millenia younger, no weight on those broad shoulders, no immovable wall to separate you both. he looks like one of the guys you used to hang out with in middle school, running through corridors and play fighting and holding back shared laughter in the library. before the bite of the world left a mark in your skin.
he looks like himself. like someone pulled the mask off, and all that’s left is the human. none of the godhood he was saddled with at birth.
while you’re busy staring, gojo finally finds his composure again. wiping at his glassy eyes, a chuckle slipping out here and there. distracted by the breathtaking sight, you begin to forget the sting of your collision — until you feel something warm trickle down your chilled skin.
searching for it with the pads of your fingers, you feel a trail of wetness beneath your nose. and when you bring them down, to get a look, all you see is red.
”ah.”
gojo moves closer. maybe just a little alarmed, by the blood dripping from your nose, staining the white of the snow beneath your feet. a chilling contrast, one you’re frighteningly used to. it’s almost comforting. blood on your skin, that sting of pain clogging up your nose, enough for you to get lost in. colours melting together, memories rising to the surface —
when suddenly, something touches your cheek.
one large hand goes to keep your jaw in place, gentle. smooth leather, sneaking under your chin, lifting your face up ever so slightly. warmth trickles from his fingertips through the fabric, and you can smell a hint of his perfume. strawberries and vanilla.
gojo looks at you fondly. wiping the blood from your nose, smudging his expensive gloves. from this angle, you can see his eyes, a blue shimmer in an evening painted white and gray — the sole flicker of colour in this monochrome city. they’re crinkled at the edges.
he looks awfully amused.
(you stay still, not breathing, like any slight motion could have him pulling away.)
”careful,” he croons. so low you barely hear it, almost a purr. the word has a soft underbelly, something you don’t need to dissect to feel.
a sentiment that seems to simmer in the air around you, drifting past the little corner store, a dog tied to a lamp post, your reddened cheeks. past the blue of his eyes, a peripheral that stretches to cover the city before you. words too heavy to speak aloud.
stay safe for me, silly.
then he’s letting go. sudden, the bite of the air replacing his hand. it lingers on your skin, like a memory, like the ghost of a memory. but it’s there. strawberries and vanilla, leather and warmth. something kind. warm.
and it stays there, even as gojo takes a step forward, no longer facing you. walking confidently, the wind bending around his tall stature. long legs and large steps, leaving an imprint in the snow for you to follow. a northern star.
he turns his head, and grins. hair tousled by the breeze, white locks glittering with snowflakes. ”you coming? it’s starting soon.”
a moment passes.
”or do you need me to call shoko?”
you puff out a breathy laugh, at that, stumbling forward. reaching up to wipe more of the blood sticking to your skin. sniffling, but smiling, teeth peeking out between your lips.
”yeah, yeah,” a roll of your eyes. ”’m right behind you.”
gojo’s eyes crinkle, disappearing behind his shades when he straightens his back and raises his head. moving forward, while you follow; his back turned to you, snowy hair melting into the white all around you. like something out of a painting.
with a pep in step, you catch up to him. eager to hear more of his voice, his memories. still basking in the warmth of his hand on your jaw.
a touch from the untouchable.
gojo’s lying on your couch.
he usually is, to be fair, so it shouldn’t be surprising. kicking his legs up, watching tv — or sleeping, snoring loudly, like the couch belongs to him. like your home belongs to him. like he pays rent, and doesn’t just laze around and devour all the sweets in your kitchen cabinets.
(he’s there so often that you’re starting to wonder if you should give him a copy of your keys, or something. but you have a feeling that’d be just a smidge too intimate for him to ever accept.)
this time, however, gojo is doing neither of those things.
he’s on your couch, but he isn’t manspreading, or draping himself over the leather with a lazy grin. he doesn’t have that air of effortless confidence. and it’s palpable, in the air, the open space, enough that you can feel it. an itch on your skin, a lump in your throat. you could practically feel it as soon as you walked through the door.
he isn’t wearing his blindfold, or his shades. he isn’t even smiling. and gojo is always, always smiling.
you think he might be having a rough day.
even the cats are noticing that something’s off. jumping up in his lap, trying to comfort him, brushing against his legs. purring, when he cradles them close — always so gentle with them. hands petting down their backs, softly, the same hands he uses to rip out the throats of curses and curse users alike.
then they mewl and run away. and for once you wish they wouldn’t, wish they could keep clinging to him like they always do. just to make him feel better. right now, in the state he’s in, you wouldn’t even mind gojo’s usual smug declarations of how does it feel to know they like their papa best?
you can’t help but feel unsure of yourself. gojo isn’t doing anything, and he isn’t saying anything. he’s just lying there, on his back, eyes closed. letting the darkness of the room engulf him. drowning in his own thoughts.
he must know that you’re there. he must have heard you come in. but he isn’t saying anything, and you wonder if that means he wants you to leave him alone.
you’re reminded of that one morning. when he woke up on your couch, and looked more human than you’d ever seen him. how you wanted to avert your eyes, how wrong it felt to see a god rouse from its slumber.
(but you know better now.)
hesitantly, you begin to inch closer, step by step. quiet, floorboards barely creaking beneath your weight. tentative, as you settle down on the couch. brushing against the infinity between you.
gojo’s eyes flicker open. like an old tape beginning to play. they still shine with that same brilliance, they always do, but now you think they look just a little dull. a little red.
a moment passes. agonizingly slow.
before you can properly think it through, you’ve done it. almost on instinct, jumping the gun before he has the chance to cover everything up with jokes and laughter. opening your arms; a silent invitation.
gojo only stares.
his gaze moves down to your outstretched arms, and then up to your face. your pursed lips, nervous eyes, worried crease between your brows. one second passes. two, five. you stop counting.
for a moment, you’re almost certain that he’s about to get up and leave. that he’ll flash you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, walk out the door and then never return. like you flew too close to the sun, just another icarus too mesmerized by the glow of his grin to notice your melting wings. like you stepped over the fragile line that separates his bones from yours, his heartbeat from your greedy hands.
— but then he sluggishly gets into a sitting position, and doesn't look at you.
when gojo collapses into your embrace, you’re so surprised that you almost forget how to breathe. almost forget your own name, forget whose home you’re in, why your arms are wrapped around a pale man. all you can think of is how warm he feels, how he’s like a weighted blanket against you. how he trusts you enough to come so very close.
cheek pressed against your chest, arms loose around your waist. no infinity, no barriers. just a single touch shared between two damaged human beings.
a brief inhale gives you the composure that you need. air flowing into your lungs, your brain, as you settle into a comfortable position. no words leave your lips; you just continue to hold him, one hand on his back, testing the waters. letting him hear the echo of your heartbeat. unsure, the both of you, but something about this feels right. close to right. almost there.
gojo is stiff. when you strain your ears, you hear a sharp intake of breath, and a full body shiver courses through him. a tremble of his spine. like he’s itching to run, like he doesn’t quite know where to put his hands. so painfully unused to a proper embrace.
(a little like a frightened fawn.)
a tender something unfurls within your chest, and you feel almost devoured by the fondness rooting itself into your beating heart. delicate, as you begin to brush away his tousled bangs, leaning close. pressing a kiss to his forehead, glistening with sweat. letting your lips linger on his skin.
he’s pale, shining in the bleak moonlight cast from the translucent curtains of your living room windows. pale like a ghost. and there are dark crescents beneath his dull eyes.
nightmares, you surmise. they haunt him too, don’t they? of course they do.
eyes brimming with emotion, you gaze at him; quiet as a mouse, closing his eyes. leaning into your touch, ever so slightly, breathing out a sigh tinged with pure exhaustion. and a certain realization washes over you, akin to a tidal wave, sudden and inevitable. so obvious it’s funny.
you’re not a god at all, are you?
a coo slips from your lips. barely a sound, more like a soothing breath. warm against his cold skin.
you’re just like everyone else. just as fragile.
one of your thumbs goes to smooth over the puffy skin beneath his eyes. so, so gentle. like one wrong touch could have him crumbling into little grains of stardust, spilling out over the worn leather of your couch.
there are so many things you wish you could say to him. so many things you’ll never be able to say, because you’re afraid that if you give him too much it’ll scare him off. like love could burn him if it were to leak out too fervently. like it’s burned him before.
so you don’t say anything. but you think it, you repeat it inside your mind like a prayer, and some part of you thinks that’s enough. i’ve got you — a whisper that you don't dare to voice.
one gojo still manages to hear, somehow, if the way he tugs you closer and snuggles into your neck is anything to go by. a shaky exhale brushing against your collarbone.
(if you feel something wet touch the skin of your shoulder, you don’t mention it.)
you simply hold him, and don’t even think the thought of letting go. even though it takes him hours just to fall asleep, hours you spend anxiously wondering if he’ll change his mind and pull away. but he doesn't leave, even though his body may want him to, and that's enough, and you don’t let go. not even once. he stays cradled to your chest the same way you’d hold a tiny puppy, something fragile. something you need to handle with care.
and when his heartbeat finally mellows out, when you hear little barely audible snores flow from his lips, you finally begin to relax. melting into the couch beneath you, watching him get the rest he deserves. praying that any nightmares of his will be given to you instead.
sleep comes, eventually, to the both of you. tangled up on the couch, him on top of you, comforted by the flutter of each other’s heartbeat. by the warmth of another human being. safe in each other’s arms.
(the next morning, through hazy sunshine and the clinking of coffee cups, he teasingly tells you that just satoru is fine.)
it’s barely daybreak when satoru wakes you up.
a rude awakening, to say the least. he pulls out all the stops, intent on not letting you sleep even a second longer; poking at your cheek, pinching them when that doesn’t work. tickling you, blowing cold air into your ear, flopping down on top of you like a big dog. anything to rouse you from your deep slumber.
and he just will not give it up. no matter how hard you try to ignore him, no matter how many times you swat him away with your duvet pillow or turn to bury your face into the sheets. that’s how satoru always is, how he’s always been, how he hopefully always will be — an absolute pain. one you wouldn’t trade for anything else in the world.
so, when he starts whining for you to just wake up already, voice tinged with a sadness that tugs at your heartstrings, you find yourself opening your tired eyes. all while he murmurs on and on about something unintelligible, still trying to bribe you.
”i’ll make you coffee, okay? just get up. c’moooon.”
”… what time is it, satoru?” is all you mutter, voice leaving your lips in a raspy, disgruntled fashion. stirring a little at the promise of coffee.
he cracks a grin. ”don’t worry about it! just come with me.”
despite your grumpy attitude, and the ungodly hour at which satoru shakes you awake, you find yourself letting him scoop you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. placing a hot cup of coffee in your hands, made just the way you like it, before grinning mischievously in a way that has you feeling ill at ease.
and ten minutes later, you find yourself on top of a hill. overlooking the woods, and a big lake below you, no city lights visible no matter where you turn — god knows where he’s taken you, but it’s pretty.
breathtaking, even. all frost and wildlife and peace, sweet solitude, tiny flowers blooming on the patches of grass around you. a murder of crows takes flight in the distance, scattering into the indigo of the sky.
gojo grins, boyish and bright, excited breaths turning into vapour as he speaks. awfully proud of himself.
”i can’t take you on vacation, but —”
he drags you with him, arm looped around your own, plopping down on the ground. not before taking off his jacket, to cover the ground beneath you. grass tickles the skin of your palms, as you comfortably spread your legs, making sure to sit as close to him as possible.
and your heart softens a little.
because he’s mentioned it, before; how it’d be nice to go on a road trip, someday, just the two of you. all around the world, wherever the wind takes you. basking in that feeling of freedom. it’s no more than a fever dream, though, with how busy satoru is, the responsibilities you both shoulder.
so this’ll have to do. that’s probably what he’s thinking.
”the sun’ll rise soon. it’ll be pretty, i promise,” he beams, so close that you feel his warm breath on your skin. that you can see the dimples on his cheeks, his barely visible freckles.
”oh, so that’s why you woke me up so early.”
his smile widens. ”nice, right? i wanted to surprise you. d’you like it?”
a smile blooms on your lips, in tandem with his, honeyed and content. indulgent. gojo looks at it, and immediately knows your answer.
”yeah. it’s really pretty out here,” you face forward, taking a deep breath, fresh morning air entering your lungs. cool and crisp, stirring your sleepy mind. ”kinda nostalgic.”
satoru hums, and follows your lead. looking ahead, admiring the beauty of an empty world.
the big lake looks like a mirror, from here, glittering in the peripheral of your vision. the sun licks at the frozen sky, not quite breaking through, not entirely ready to rise — but it paints everything a rusty gold and you can almost feel spring shining through, taste it on your tongue, that promise of something better, something more concrete. a warmth you don’t have to question.
a warmth that’ll stay with you for a long time to come.
it takes about ten seconds for the man by your side to start speaking, again, shattering the peaceful silence. but you don’t mind. his voice is nice, a mellow melody to your morning-fatigued brain.
side by side, you wait for the sun to rise. sharing hushed whispers and laughter, like two kids having a sleepover. like nothing exists but the space that cocoons you, wraps you up in a nostalgia so palpable the entire world feels like a fond memory.
(it makes you feel a millenia younger.)
satoru giggles like a child, telling you about something shoko said, or something megumi did, and you don’t miss a single word that spills from his glossy lips. hanging on to every word he’s willing to give to you.
he looks so unbothered, like this. eyes crinkling, humming some tune you don’t recognize, like a little nightingale ready to take flight into the skies.
you part your lips, admiring his features. every patch of skin you can see. words making themselves manifest, hungry to see inside his brain, to know more about him. a fascination that’s never quite left you — though now you think it may be better described as love. ”hey, satoru?”
at the sound of his name, he turns to you. the weight of his eyes feels so light, like this. those blessed eyes staring into yours. he tilts his head, a smile playing at his lips. ”mm?”
”if you could go anywhere you wanted, where would you be right now?”
satoru blinks.
he looks at you, a mild surprise flitting through the lines of his face, as he takes you in. measures the weight of your words.
then he smiles, again. lopsided, almost a smirk, rich with amusement. a hum buzzes in his throat, like a butterfly itching to break out.
”.. you teasing me?”
a huff fills the air. ”it’s a genuine question!” you insist, moving your leg to nudge his own. ”c’mon. anywhere in the world. i’m just curious.”
another hum. he narrows his eyes, playfully, biting at the inside of his cheek to hold back a chuckle when that makes you grumble. pouting softly, tilting your head. he’s amused, you can tell.
but he closes his eyes, lashes fluttering, glimmering with morning dew. and you can tell he’s taking you seriously. tasting the question on his tongue.
something shines in his eyes, when he opens them again; crinkling at the corners, soft lines of crows’ feet. you can almost see that burst of aquamarine, breaking through the black glass of his shades. like the laws of physics can’t contain it. and he smiles, as always, a smile so beautiful you wish you could live on the curve of his lips. flimsy, no teeth peeking out, no dimples to admire. but sweet. slathered with honey, as sincere as can be.
his voice comes out a little raspy, tainted with a tinge of fatigue, a smokey residue that sticks to the walls of his throat. but it's genuine, like he just woke up, like he's too sleepy to be dishonest. like every word he says can be no more or less than the absolute truth.
and when he turns to face you, tilting his head enough for you to see that shade of blue you love so dearly, his eyes shine with an honestly so palpable you feel like you’re being devoured.
satoru parts his lips.
”right next to you.”
a moment passes. silent, endless, no sound to be heard but the beating of your own heart.
at last, the sun breaks through that layer of frost, peeking up from the boundary of the world — and the morning begins to thaw. streaks of sunlight cascade down the contours of his handsome face, painting him a mellow gold, and it’s almost enough to distract you from the warmth of his hand finding yours.
for a moment, satoru looks unsure. smile shifting in the light, into something slightly stiff, and you know that means he's nervous. silent, as he wets his glossy lips. pink tongue tasting strawberry chapstick.
then he’s leaning forward.
it’s chaste, the kiss he plants on your forehead, soft as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. but it lingers, even after he’s pulled back — a warmth on your skin. a silent declaration.
he doesn't have to say anything. when you look up at him you can see the red flush of his ears, and when you strain your ears you can hear all those unspoken whispers. the sentiment neither of you will ever have to say out loud, because you know. it’s there. and it means everything.
and you know that for as long as you live, you’ll both have this. one single thread of normalcy, in your unorthodox existences, one single glimmer of something almost entirely good. something that heals, something that isn’t a blessing and a curse all in one. something soft to the touch.
there’s no need to find the right words for it. there never was.
”kinda looks like melted ice cream.”
the words pull you out of your stupor. satoru’s looking at the sky, and you follow his gaze, watching the sunrise in tandem with him.
it’s beautiful. soft clouds melting into pinks and oranges, dappling sunbeams lapping at the trees, a saffron shade washing over the empty world in front of you. a world that may not be so empty, after all, because you hear crows in the distance, and someone’s fishing by the lake, and you think you spot a squirrel in the tree closest to you.
and you have someone, right next to you, right by your side. someone who won’t ever leave.
sometimes, loving satoru gojo feels a little like strolling on the edge of a cliff. like one wrong step could have you tumbling down, a mess of broken bones and unspoken words. but if you do stumble and fall — you know he’ll be waiting at the bottom of the precipice. arms outstretched, wearing that same innocent grin, ready to hoist you both back up.
so you know it’ll be fine.
swallowing down a bout of fresh laughter, like a flower unfurling in your chest, petals brushing against your ribcage, you give in. opting to bask in the moment, in his presence.
”yeah,” you puff out a chuckle, head slumping against satoru’s shoulder. he makes a little noise of approval, and your grin grows. ”it does.”
he doesn’t say anything. smiling, wordlessly, admiring the way the sun kisses up your collarbone. lighting up your face. and you bask in his warmth, how right it feels to be tucked into his side. how safe he feels, even now. how safe you make him feel.
you look at the man to your left, and he looks back at you, and that wonderful unnamed something unfurls inside your chest again. and, without having to speak it aloud, you know it will continue to do so.
many, many years later, he’ll still be satoru, and you’ll still be you. the distance between you will be what it always was; breachable.
and that will be enough.
#someone sedate me i giggled while writing this. im so in love w this stupid weasel#this is rly just my attempt at writing a more canon-aligned gojo and the kinda-sorta relationship i could see him having in canon#i firmly believe that he’d feel most at peace w a love that sits somewhere right between platonic n romantic !!#”me n the bestie <3” (selfie of u wearing matching rings)#its the kinda love that u dont need to label bc its just There. its just love !! a love that comes easy#im happy w how this particular gojo turned out i think!! :'3 hes my lil baby#in other news hes so bambi coded ☹️ i need to nurse him back to health#listen to capable of love by pinkpantheress btw its so gojo to me#jjk x reader#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x gender neutral reader#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Day of the Week Magickal Correspondences:
Monday
Planet: Moon
Tarot: High Priestess, Moon
Color: white, light blue, gray
Stones: moonstone, pearl, fluorite, amethyst, quartz, sapphire
Herbs: moonflower, jasmine, gardenia, white rose
Influences : astral realm, clairvoyance, creativity, dream work, emotions, family, fertility, healing the home, illumination, inspiration, intuition, love, prophecy, protection, psychic ability, travel, truth
Tuesday
Planet: Mars
Tarot: Strength, Wands (5, 6)
Color: red, orange
Stones: carnelian, ruby, bloodstone, garnet, red jasper
Herbs: basil, ginger, blak pepper, patchouli, holly, dragon’s blood, nettle, thistle, thorns, wormwood, hawthorn,
Influences : power, war, courage, agression, revenge, hexes and curses, distruction, ambition, sexual identity, sex magick, self confidence
Wednesday
Planet: mercury
Tarot: The Magician, Wheel of Fortune, Pentacles (8)
Color: blue
Stones: Agate, citrine, aventurine, sodalite, lapis, hematite, emerald
Herbs: lavender, rosemary, fern, cherry, licorice, poppy, mugwort, plantain, apple, fennel
Influences : communication, arts, change, mental power, education, divination, psychic power, divination, wisdom, knowledge, traveling, spiritual enlightenment, mischief
Thursday
Planet: jupiter
Tarot: Pentacles (ace, 9, 10)
Color: royal blue, green and purple
Stones: amethyst, sapphire, turquoise, lepidolite, sugilite
Herbs: cinnamon, sage, nutmeg, melissa, clove, honeysuckle
Influences : money, business, manifestion, justice, healing, abundance, luck, fidelity, honor, justice (legal matters), leadership, loyalty, prosperity, relationships, well-being, success
Friday
Planet: Venus
Tarot: Empress, Lovers, Cups (2)
Color: pink
Stones: rose quartz, pink tourmaline, moonstone, jade, peridot, emerald, ruby
Herbs: red hibiscus, rose, lavender, rosemary, jasmine, blue lotus, violet, birch, sage, ivy
Influences : beauty, emotions, fertility, friendship, happiness, love, passion, pleasure, sexuality, wisdom
Saturday
Planet: Saturn
Tarot: Temperance, Swords (knight, 2)
Color: Black, Gray (dark), Indigo, Purple (dark)
Stones: onyx, obsidian, smokey quartz, jet, pumice
Herbs: myrrh, moss, thyme, basil, hemlock, nettle, peppermint, pomegranate, hyacinth, mallow, juniper
Influences : banish, binding magick, death, protection, freedom, justice, karma, banishing, uncrossing magick, hexes and curses
Sunday
Planet: Sun
Color: yellow, gold
Tarot: Chariot, Sun, Wands (ace)
Stones: citrine, sunstone, pyrite, gold, goldstone, carnelian, orange calcite, tiger’s eye, amber
Herbs: sunflower, chamomile, calendula, marigold, bergamot, oak, rosemary, oregano
Influences : accomplishment, action, ambition, attraction, authority, beauty, confidence, creativity, energy (solar), fame, freedom, friendship, goals, personal growth, healing, hope, illumination, justice, leadership, light, protection, spirituality
tip jar
#thecupidwitch#witchcraft#witch community#witchblr#witchcore#witches#witch#green witch#grimoire#book of shadows#days of the week#text
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Blue Birds of Happiness
Blue is an extra-fun color for birds to be, because, as you may have heard, it is not created by a pigment. Blue feathers (and the blue scales on butterfly wings, and the blue irises of some humans) are structural, meaning that the color is created by the physical properties of the living tissue, which are arranged in such a way that they reflect the short wavelengths of blue light. Often this is paired with a dark pigment which absorbs other colors of light and makes the blue 'pop'. Look at all the tints and shades they can make!
Mountain bluebird
2. Himalayan bluetail
3. Blue nuthatch
4. Blue jay
5. Indigo bunting
6. Great blue turaco
7. Tree swallow
8. Ultramarine flycatcher
9. Hyacinth macaw
10. Glaucous-blue grosbeak
11. Belted kingfisher
12. Blue dacnis
13. Taiwan blue-magpie
14. Shining honeycreeper
15. Siberian blue robin
16. Blue whistling-thrush
17. African blue flycatcher
18. White-throated magpie jay
19. Black-naped monarch
20. Blue paradise flycatcher
21. Cerulean warbler
22. Woodland kingfisher
23. Indian peafowl
24. Little blue heron
25. Philippine fairy-bluebird
26. Pinyon jay
27. Blackish-blue seedeater
28. Plum-throated cotinga
29. Deep-blue flowerpiercer
30. Blue coua
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Keep me safe inside, your arms like towers.
Featuring. Kanata Yatonokami x GN! Reader.
The longing in his kiss and the sight of him are all the warmth you need on a chilly night.
Tags: romantic fluff, a little suggestive. Inspired by a fanart I found on twitter (by eren_cozmez).
🌙 - Dedicated to Lyn @koumeowkami 💜 I hope I managed to do this concept justice and that you enjoy it! (You will find this uploaded to my ao3 as well).
The world is dyeing in hues of blues and shadows. The decrepit buildings lining the slums seem to curve in on themselves beneath the poor illumination of faulty streetlights.
A cat meowing is heard in the distance, a stray plastic bag fleets around, with no destination, outcasted under lapis skies.
If you were to ask the average person, this is not a scene they’d want to find themselves into, especially not when a yell and the sound of a siren can be heard in the distance. Especially not when the cables near an electricity tower thrum with excessive voltage.
If anyone were to ask you, however, there is no other place you’d rather be at.
There was a sweet familiarity to these ruined houses with cracked windows; to these crooked sidewalks; to the sky littered with stars that could be gazed at from here.
You had walked these streets, countless times.
With him.
Like the indigo expanse above, you had found him once.
Even if he didn’t believe it himself, to you, he was not unlike a star.
Perhaps the glow surrounding him was eerie, menacing, violet poison trying to keep those who braved his night away.
And yet, you seemed immune to it.
You feel content now, falling in step in silence by his side, the dim light of a crescent moon making him look all the more ethereal.
You steal a glance in his direction, unconsciously walking nearer to him.
Your bare arm grazes his side, the familiar fabric of his jacket warming you up, despite the chilly night breeze.
You can feel him stiffen at first, the instinctive reaction of years spent between adults who only knew how to show him misery.
Then he relaxes, easing into your touch, an arm wrapping around you protectively.
“Are you cold?” Kanata asks, squeezing your form a little closer to his.
You let yourself indulge in his warm affection for a couple heartbeats before replying.
“I’m fine if it’s with you…” Comes your happy hum, as you briefly rest your head on his shoulder. “And I could ask you the same question.” You chuckle, poking his uncovered bicep; he always wore his jackets like this: off his shoulders, doing next to nothing to shield him from the cold (but definitely helping to make him even more eye candy than what he already was to you).
A cracked street light momentarily bathes him in cold light, a halo frozen in place and time, quite fitting for the fallen angel likeness he bore.
“I’m good.” He pouts, cheeks flaring up in warm hues. “You have goosebumps.” Your boyfriend points out, stopping his pace in front of you, just as you reach an iron wire fence.
“Kanata, please, don’t worry.” You insist, just as you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself, the gesture betraying your words just like that.
“Tsk,” He frowns, taking off his jacket. “Don’t give me that.” Your lover grumbles, as he drapes the garment around your shoulders.
Your arms slip through the sleeves, the fabric akin to a caress signed in Kanata’s scent; the gentle touches you shared before falling asleep by starlight through the foggy windows of his small apartment.
Then, as if the moon had wanted you to notice, its argent rays briefly catch the light of his lilac gaze.
Akin to hyacinths at dawn, first light’s dew clinging to amethyst petals that shyly avert from you, helplessly, for every heartbeat that passes, the crowned angel’s heart guides his eyes to your pretty face.
It’s unfair you look so good in his clothes, despite having seen you in his oversized t-shirts before, in summer, when even in searing sun rays, you cuddled up against him.
And perhaps now, he was not the only one feeling under his lover’s spell.
Your pupils dilate at the image of his lean form outlined before an indigo infinity.
His muscles are defined, despite his petite figure, the night penumbra shadowing them just in the right places.
A gust of periwinkle breeze sifts through his hair, a few strands loosening from his half up ponytail, silky strands just a prolongation of the stars above when they meet with the black color of his sleeveless top.
He’s breathtaking; undeniably. Utterly beautiful.
An utterance of his name escapes your lips.
“Kanata…” You trail off, at the same moment his hands nestle on your waist.
Starry lashes flutter closed, his forehead resting against yours, the previously cold air, now ardent with both your accelerating breaths.
“You…” Your boyfriend starts. His voice is hoarse, the scrape of blackened rose petals against ivory statues. “You’re so beautiful…” He finally manages.
You can feel your face heating up, a stark contrast with the iron fence your back is leaning against.
Suddenly you no longer need his jacket.
But there is no way you’re taking it off.
Especially not when Kanata’s hands rest on either side of your head against the flimsy palisade.
Especially not when his lips are millimeters away, every tiny crack on them visible.
“You haven’t been using the chapstick I got you.” You blurt out, just like that.
The blush creeping from Kanata’s neck intensifies at your statement, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
You smile, blissful.
Then, a pleasant shiver runs down your spine.
A trail of heated kisses follows up from your collarbone to the edge of your jawline, the pleasing sting of your lover’s sharp canines over your previously pristine skin.
He meets your eyes.
A myriad of lavender and jade and love.
He whispers your name.
And that’s all you can remember before his kiss robs you of all reason.
His tongue prods against your parted mouth, hungry and caring all at once, him, him, him resounding in every second that passes with your lips locked.
Sharp teeth clamp on your lower lip, tugging towards him.
A promise of the undying love you two share.
And you just verify it.
It’s in the way your arms pull him towards you by the back of his neck, fingers tangled in the unreal softness of his tresses.
Your knees go weak, and yet, you couldn’t care less.
Kanata keeps you upright, arms, that perhaps you hadn’t realized how strong they were before, safely around you; a shield off of which any thunderstorm bounced.
As the night goes on, you can only think that if this were to be a fever dream, you’d rather never wake again.
However, your partner’s heartbeat on yours is all too real, as are his soft, slender fingers gripping your waist protectively.
In the inauspiciousness of blinking darkness, love is all you can feel.
And judging by the way Kanata’s eyes are dazed and shiny when he pulls away, you know he felt it too.
You chase after his lips once more.
The moon will still stand watch over the skies for a few hours, before sunrise approaches.
In the secrecy of her light, your lips dance as one for a while longer.
#paradox live#paradox live x reader#kanata yatonokami#kanata yatonokami x reader#paralive x reader#paralive imagines#paralive#paradox live imagines#pararai#paradox live the animation#paradox live fanfiction#kanata x reader#paradox live headcanons#hailey writes
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What were your dye/color thoughts?
In response to this beautiful art of Fingon by @welcomingdisaster
Some of my other dye posts: x, x
I was just thinking about the various plants and other materials that could be used to create blue dyes and where they could be found in Beleriand and Valinor (*according to Tolkien all species of plants and animals can be found in Valinor through the various gardens, the pastures of Yavanna, etc but I still have thoughts on where in Valinor)
Indigo plants would likely be the primary source of blue and purple dyes in Valinor.
It’s possible some seeds were brought to Beleriand either from Valinor or through trade with peoples East of the Ered Luin where it could also likely grow. It’s originally native to tropical and subtropical environments but has been naturalized in temperate climates as well. While it is unlikely to thrive in the colder regions such as Hithlum, it might be grown in Ossiriand, Nevrast or other warmer regions.
Woad, also known as dyer’s woad or dyer’s weed is more widely available in temperate regions and was likely a primary source of blue dyes in first age Beleriand. It grows in scrubland and could be found throughout Eastern Beleriand and parts of further south western Beleriand and possibly naturalized even further through trade. I imagine most humans in Beleriand would probably use this for blue dyes.
Dyer’s knotweed is another plant whose leaves have been used to create blue dyes. Given the climate it grows in, I would imagine it could be found in Dorthonion and northeastern Beleriand
There is also a mineral formed from iron called Vivianite which has been used to create blue pigments. I can see this being used particularly in Eastern Beleriand where deposits were likely more accessible or through trade with dwarven groups in the Ered Luin.
I like to think of this being used in Himring and Thargelion.
Finally, Sarcodon squamosus is notable for being the only mushroom species that we currently know of that can create a true blue dye. It’s found primarily in Pine Forest, so this is another possibility for some thing that could’ve been found in Dorthonion as well as possibly some montane forest throughout the continent. We know that the elves generally did not eat mushrooms although I don’t know if I necessarily wanna go with that is Canon and it’s from the nature of middle earth however, they could’ve still used them for non-food materials. I have a lot of thoughts on the Bëorians and dyeing which comes up here again
Note: Murex snails have historically been used to create royal purple and hyacinth 🪻 blue however I do not believe they would be widely used by the elves as production involves either harming or destroying the animals in large numbers. It takes an inordinate amount of these snails to extract even a tiny amount of the dye. It is possible to extract small quantities of the substance (a mucous secreted by the snail when aggravated) without causing it harm so some seafaring elves like the Teleri might use it, I really enjoy the possibilities of the Teleri using venoms from various sea creatures….
Anyways, I really love world building so if anyone wants to hear about all the possibilities for another color or any other questions, let me know!

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Not So Berry Names
I just found a list of Not So Berry themed names that I made when I was doing the challenge. They lean on the side of cutesy and unconventional rather than your classic names. Anyway, I thought I’d share the list in case anyone playing wanted to use some of these names for their own gameplay.
Mint
Julep
Mojito
Pepper
Chip
Menthe
Minze
Jade
Corsica
Wrigley
Rose
Rosa
Cherry
Bloom
Ruby
Hawthorn
Balas
Camellia
Oleander
Scarlett
Carmine
Cerise
Poppy
Chili
Rowan
Crimson
Maple
Jasper
Clancy
Flynn
Garnet
Rory
Sorrell
Mars
Apple
Holly
Zinnia
Petunia
Cosmos
Yellow
Jaune
Amarelo
Lemon
Ochre
Honey
Zest
Mango
Bee
Honeysuckle
Wheat
Amber
Topaz
Daffodil
Citrine
Flax
Jasmine
Marigold
Xanthe
Sunny
Citrine
Bee
Acacia
Marigold
Honeydew
Grey / White
Siva
Grigio
Silver
Sterling
Ash
Steel
Nickel
Frost
Snow
Mist
Cloud
Rain
Hail
Timberwolf
Smoke
Storm
Wolf
Plum
Plume
Eirin
Violet
Violeta
Lila
Lavender
Amethyst
Indigo
Iris
Lilac
Mauve
Orchid
Thistle
Wisteria
Foxglove
Fig
Orange
Alani
Tangerine
Pumpkin
Apricot
Sienna
Nectarine
Eve
Summer
Roe
Persimmon
Rusty
Clementine
Saffron
Tawny
Butternut
Kumquat
Tiger
Persimmon
Pink
Coral
Orchid
Blush
Rouge
Blossom
Quartz
Clove
Posy
Camellia
Cerise
Mimi
Phlox
Lotus
Azalea
Dahlia
Peach
Peach
Apricot
Melon
Reef
Puff
Georgia
Schnapps
Melba
Blossom
Green
Zelena
Emerald
Leaf
Olive
Jade
Forest
Malachite
Fern
Hunter
Mindaro
Pistachio
Myrtle
Sage
Kale
Hazel
Juniper
Willow
Sylvie
Magnolia
Aspen
Silas
Roscoe
Kiwi
Basil
Pea
Dill
Zucchini
Clover
Blue
Azure
Bondi
River
Ocean
Cobalt
Marina
Periwinkle
Sapphire
Sky
Reef
Lake
Zenith
Rain
China
Robin
Jay
Celeste
Juno
Dion
Hyacinth
Kehlani
Cielo
Aster
Lupine
Freesia
Black
Sable
Onyx
Ebony
Jet
Coal
Carbon
Steel
Ash
Moody
Swan
Panther
Panda
Tea
Pepper
Olive
Brown
Caramel
Coffee
Tawny
Mocha
Coco
Toffee
Cookie
Clay
Hazel
Cashew
Maple
Willow
Flint
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« System Intro!! »
⋆ Hello there, we are The Persmo and this is our personal blog, are you still reading? Then prepare yourselves for this long intro about us and the blog ↺
¦⋆ General about us & the blog ⋆¦
✎... We are a traumagenic polyfrag-DID system with medical recognition but no official diagnosis yet
✎... Besides our sys name we go by Bill or Namel as collective names
✎... Collective pronouns are He/They/It and we're Trans-Masc
✎... We have other disorders along with our DID, we share some of then like our autism and ADHD, but others are private, don't ask for them or we'll block you
✎... English isn't our first language, so expect some mistakes in the posts
✎... We are non-human, introject, trans and aroace heavy
✎... Some post will have sign offs, could be emojis and/or names, and in the same manner, some post won't have them, it depends
✎... We don't have a specific type of post, there can be random/funny post, something about us, opinions about the system community, some syscourse... A lot of things, don't expect order or a theme in the type of post we'll do
✎... You can ask us things freely, but careful with what you ask/send, we will not hesitate to block and report accounts if necessary (Also DM is for close only)
¦⋆ Fronters ⋆¦
⋆Hosts⋆
↪ Rowlpy ⁚ He/It
↪ Namelnom ⁚ Any but she/her and fem neo/xeno pronouns
↪ Namely ⁚ Any but she/her and fem neo/xeno pronouns
↪ Neomel ⁚ Any but she/her and fem neo/xeno pronouns
↪ Nichts ⁚ Mirror pronouns
⋆Frequent Fronters⋆
↪ Lute ⁚ He/Thxm
↪ Nyamel ⁚ Any but she/her
↪ Spider-Plitz ⁚ He/Him
↪ Hyacinth ⁚ It/Bird/Teaself/Twirt
↪ Indigo ⁚ They/Them
¦⋆ Boundaries ⋆¦
⋆DNI⋆
Endo-Systems
Pro/Neu endo
Basic DNI (Racist, homophobes, etc)
Cis-Het
Neurotipicals
Doesn't have system accountability
Close minded
Treat alters as their source
⋆ That's all for now, thank your for reading and welcome to our blog :D ↺
#did system#plural system#polyfrag system#polyfrag did#system stuff#traumagenic system#actually did#actually plural#system intro#pluralgang#plural community#dissociative system#actually traumagenic#dissociative identity disorder#system things#sysblr#system
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Below the cut will be a masterlist of plant based names. There are 26 feminine names on this list, 33 masculine names, and 39 gender neutral names. Please like or reblog if you found this useful. :)
Female. -
Blossom.
Camellia.
Clemintine.
Chrysanta.
Dahlia.
Daisy.
Flora.
Forsythia.
Ginger.
Hazel.
Iris.
Ivy.
Jasmine.
Lavender.
Lily.
Marigold.
Meadow.
Petunia.
Poppy.
Primrose.
Rose.
Rosmary.
Tigerlily.
Violet.
Willow.
Wisteria.
Male. -
Adler.
Arbor.
Arlow.
Aster.
Aston.
Basil.
Beech.
Birch.
Bramble.
Bramwell.
Cedar.
Chervil.
Clove.
Coleus.
Elm.
Forrest. / Forest.
Gentian.
Hawthorne.
Heath.
Herb.
Ilan.
Indigo.
Koru.
Linden.
Moss.
Oak. / Oakley.
Oleander.
Oren.
Parsley.
Rush.
Sherwood.
Wilder.
Yarrow.
Gender Neutral. -
Alyssum.
Amaranth.
Amaryllis.
Ash.
Aspen.
Azalea.
Bay.
Briar.
Calla.
Cicily.
Clover.
Coriander.
Cypress.
Elowen.
Fern.
Heather.
Holly.
Hyacinth.
Juniper.
Kale.
Laurel.
Madara.
Magnolia.
Maple.
Myrtle.
Olive.
Pepper.
Reed.
Ren.
Rowan.
Rue.
Saffron.
Sage.
Sequoia.
Sorrel.
Sylvan.
Terra.
Thorn. // Thorne.
Zinnia.
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I’m back 📇
Fae Faith Fallon Fawn Fay Felicia Felicity Fern Finley Fleur Flora Florence Frances Francesca Freya
Gabriella Gabrielle Garnet Gemma Genesis Geneva Genevieve Georgia Giselle Gwen
Hadley Hannah Harley Harlow Harper Haven Hayden Hazel Heather Heidi Helena Hollie Hollis Holly Honey Honor Hope Hyacinth
Ida Imogen India Indigo Inez Iris Isabel Isabella Isla
Jade January Jasmine Jemima Jenna Jessica Joanna Joanne Jodie Jolie Jonquil Josephine Joy Julia Juliana Juliet Juniper
Kara Kate Katherine Kaya Kayla Keira Kerry Kinsey Kira
Lacey Laila Lana Lara Laura Layla Leighton Lena Lenore Lexie Libby Liberty Lilly Lily Livia Lorelai Lotus Louisa Louise Lucia Lucinda Lucy Lydia
you’re really coming through with all of these omg 😭🫶🏻
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The whole Atterberry family came to the party, which was nice!
#ts4 gameplay#ts4 legacy#ts4#sims 4#the sims 4#notsoberry#nsb5#pepper atterberry#jackie chandran#hyacinth atterberry#viorel atterberry#indigo atterberry#ianthe atterberry
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Shooting star emoji review: an special episode.
Apple: smooth trail and a superb decision to include a picture frame. The background is a yellow star utopia. This picture could belong to a lavish fairytale house with a good view of life and challenges. Happiness-inducing not too realistic star but I still love this example. Is it going through a cloud or is just the big shine of the curious twinkle star? 9/10
Google: Gets the indigo elegance right. It’s like hyacinth, vivid and mollifier. The meteoroid is sorrounded by sparkly stars and blue-ish wonders. Is the trail a crystal structure and maybe this is artificial? 6/10
Samsung: good-looking starry emoji and the meteoroid has a big white gleam exposing! Its smoothly detailed border makes this look like an app icon. You could edit it to make it an icon! The stars are a little translucent, but they look cool! The trail is fading out leaving a beautifully colored golden treasure. 8/10
Microsoft: artless, dumb-looking star with an absolutely big spotlight. not even a single tear of love and passion was put into this. no good stars, where’s the magic? Is the purple background the only magical thing about this? 2/10
WhatsApp: What a grandiose night and starry sky with a aesthetically pleasing gradient that it makes it look like it’s coming to some unknown city! The colors harmonize flawlessly with a subtlety detailed color palette which makes the viewer think this is an enchanting bliss! The big Apple’s sibling! 10/10
Twitter: it’s literally day period in this emoji. Are you seriously going to scare people with your shameful morality? Insufficient effort and love. This star has got some serious thoughts, it makes me think “I can’t know what thoughts it has because I can’t ask to it” it is also a star I guess. 1/10
Facebook: Coin-like star and we can distinguish the smoothly detailed lines on the trail! Comparable to saturn’s rings. The shine illuminates the starry night leaving a nice memory. 9/10
Skype: A genious idea to make the star sharpen and the trail having some nice detail that matches the simplicity of this emoji. Sadly, we miss the sky. The sky is an important part of this emoji in my opinion. Looks lonely, you can travel peacefully. 3/10
Twitter emoji stickers: This is comparable to the greatness of the Magellanic cloud nebulas. This shooting star is one of the cutest things I have ever seen in my life. The detail is superb. It deserves to pass through the big-old mountains. The stars are so soft and white, the light pollution forbids this emoji to show more stars though, what a shame. The border with the exquisite detail with an amazing choice of colors. 10/10 add more stars and it 1000/10.
Joypixels: joyfull colorful stars with the main star having a lovely shape! Sadly, the travel is not the thing I wanted exactly as it looks solid. The subtle gradient of the sky gives this an effective look. 6.5/10
TossFace: sorry, I can’t say anything good about this except the fact that it looks just kind of cute. That does not mean this bare-bones disgrace is going to get a high rating. 1/10
Openmoji: I can say that… it looks like a doddle I often make in the middle of school time. How menacing. -10/10
Emojidex: Gets the awesome idea of making the star look 3d. Does not scream beautifulness and power. Just a poor little shooting star with copy-pasted trail. The colours are just a NO. 3/10
LG: Snowy pastel vibes in this soft little shooting star. Milky-colored wonders like this make my heart melt. The sky is calmingly colored and effective. 6.5/10
Thank you all! 💟 This is a review I put a lot of effort in.
“We are made of starstuff” Carl Sagan.
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SPRING BLUES... Hyacinths by magda indigo https://flic.kr/p/2omViPd
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