satanic cyanide

a mixtape of my life..

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[bigandlong]

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

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“There’s something magical about the way sunlight dances on water, turning every ripple into gold. The temple stands quietly, watching over the forest, while the sky above spreads colors that feel almost unreal. Walking here feels like stepping into a dream — where peace flows with the river, the wind whispers secrets through the trees, and every moment slows down enough to just breathe. Some places don’t just exist on the map; they exist in your heart forever. 🌿🏛️🌊☀️

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there are things gojo satoru never says out loud.

not because he doesn’t feel them—but because saying them would make them real, heavy, impossible to joke away.

so instead, he lingers.

stands a little too close.

walks you home even when he’s exhausted.

looks at you like he’s memorizing something he’s afraid to lose.

you pretend not to notice.

but some nights, when the world is quiet and it’s just the two of you, the unsaid feels louder than anything else.

gojo satoru has a habit of standing too close.

you notice it first when his arm brushes yours—barely there, accidental enough that you can’t call it out. then again when he leans down to talk, voice low, breath warm against your ear like he forgets personal space exists.

or maybe he doesn’t forget.

maybe he just doesn’t care.

“you’re quiet today,” he says.

you shrug. “just tired.”

he hums, unconvinced. you feel his gaze on you even when you look away. it’s heavy in a way that makes your chest feel tight.

“you don’t have to pretend with me,” he adds, softer.

that’s the thing about gojo. he says things like that—like he sees straight through you—and then acts surprised when it affects you.

you look up at him. he’s already looking at you.

too close.

way too close.

“you always say that,” you mumble.

“because it’s true.”

there’s a pause. the air shifts. you swear the world goes quiet when he looks at you like this—like you’re something fragile, something important.

his hand lifts, hesitates.

your heart is loud.

“can i?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

you nod before you can think.

his fingers brush yours—slow, careful, like he’s giving you time to pull away. you don’t. instead, you lace your fingers with his.

gojo exhales. shaky. relieved.

“yeah,” he murmurs, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “thought so.”

you don’t say anything. you don’t need to.

because the way he holds your hand—gentle, like he’s afraid of breaking something—says everything he never does out loud.

and when he leans in, forehead resting against yours, smiling like he’s already won something precious—

you know.

later, when the night has settled and the moment is slipping away, gojo squeezes your hand once—gentle, grounding.

“i’ll see you tomorrow,” he says.

it sounds like a promise.

you nod, watching him turn and disappear into the dark, your heart still warm where his hand was.

and for the first time, you realize—

maybe love doesn’t always arrive loudly.

maybe sometimes it stays.

steady.

patient.

waiting in the space between almost and always.

Thankyou for reading, this is my first time... HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT!!🫶🏻

PART 2 COMING SOON...

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Back in black always...

#aesthetic #musiccore #backinblack #converse #soft grunge #nightvibes #quiet sins