୨୧

𖾕𖾝꙼ᩚ𛲕𖾟 17!

[moonliyslop]

꒰ ㆍ♩ WELCOME

⋆˙⟡ ℳari ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ 17 ꒰ ㆍ♩ she/her

🍥 "Why do you think I'm late to school every day? Because most days, I can't even find a reason to get out of bed." ◦ ₊ ㅤ﹙ ℳari claire's wife ꒰ ㆍ♩ lana & melanie entusiathor　 ꗃ .. she ◞ her ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ seventeen ⌣ ✧ intp ʬ super sonico #1 fan! ﹅ ꒰ wanna be moots? dm me! ꒱

⋆˙⟡ recents; here. here. here. here.

.✦ ݁˖ taking requests! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

◜ © moonliy ◞

ᥒoᥒᥱ of thᥱ dιvιdᥱrs bᥱᥣoᥒg to mᥱ.

ᥴrᥱdιt goᥱs to ᥲᥣᥣ ᥴrᥱᥲtors!

[bee2124]

I’ve genuinely locked in harder reading fanfiction this summer than I did on my uni assignments

[falsetactic]

me after the author mischaracterizes me in a xreader fic

no hate tho

[hunnismokah]

gojo back bc i was ovulating

[moonliyslop]

Ello!! May I ask for black and pink dividers? Simply the ones in this color scheme?

Thank you and have a nice day~ 🖤🩷🖤🩷

[PT. 3]

pink/black dividers!

none of the dividers belong to me. credit goes to all creators.

(≧▽≦). pt. 1 & pt. 2

[moonliyslop]

[PT. 2]

pink/white dividers!

none of the dividers belong to me. credit goes to all creators.

(๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵). pt. 1 & pt. 3

mdni ver. (only pink!)

[moonliyslop]

[PT. 1]

pink/white dividers!

none of the dividers belong to me. credit goes to all creators.

(≧∀≦). pt.2

mdni ver. (only pink!)

[moonliyslop]

mdni (minors do not interact) pink dividers!

none of the dividers belong to me. credit goes to all creators.

[moonliyslop]

2000s anime girl pfp!

none of the icons belong to me.

[moonliyslop]

pinkselle icons!

none of the icons belong to me.

[rainedravens]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

[powerhayakawaa]

when you're trying to find a good fanfic to read but your tumblr fyp is genuinly shit

[parkjammys]

the audacity of the official dc account to even post this 😭

[fromdove-deactivated20251112]

seeing my man with his canonical love interest 💔💔💔💔

[jiimeniita]

[gumii-bearr]

satoru hates to watch you leave.

he pretends he doesn’t care. pretends he doesn’t watch you pick your clothes off the floor, an emotionless expression on your face as you dress yourself.

he can’t admit how much it hurts him. how much his chest aches at the sight of you crawling out of bed beside him to leave his sheets cold and empty.

satoru won’t admit how much it kills him.

how he presses his palms to his face the moment his door clicks shut, how he sits up in bed and lets the guilt of it all consume him body and soul.

he hurt you. he hurt you bad.

and he knows he’s bad for you. he knows it’s wrong of him to call you in the middle of the night, text you telling you he misses you, because he knows deep down you still love him.

he’s using you, he knows he is.

but he can’t let you go, he’ll leave claw marks on everything he built with you before letting it go willingly.

“why don’t you stay, baby? …just for tonight,”

“…i don’t think that’s a good idea, satoru.”

he wants to beg you. get on his knees and cry against you, tell you he’s sorry, that he fucked up.

but instead,

“yeah, probably not.”

[sixeyesonathiel]

satoru hated his last name. hated it like a stone in his shoe—always there, always rubbing raw. gojo felt less like a name and more like a warning label. it wasn’t his, not really. it belonged to history books and clan heads and a bloodline that never once asked if he wanted any of it. being gojo meant being untouchable, invincible, alone. he grew up thinking of it like a muzzle. like shackles. like a script he never got to rewrite.

and then he married you.

and suddenly you're laughing, calling yourself mrs. gojo like it’s the most casual, normal thing in the world. no fear, no hesitation, just soft affection wrapped around something that once made his chest tighten. you sign it on forms, whisper it into the phone when making reservations, scrawl it on love notes you slip into his coat pocket before missions. like it's yours. like it's yours and his, not just a dynasty or a curse.

and he can’t take it. he can’t fucking take it.

you wear his name like a promise. like a shared secret. like you want it. like you want him. and satoru—satoru, the man, the boy beneath the title—he doesn't know what to do with that. he's unraveling. imploding. your voice saying his name makes him dizzy, because you don’t say it like the world does. you say it like it’s precious. like it’s soft. like it means something good.

and it’s so stupid, right? that a name he once loathed now makes his chest ache with something too big for words? all because of you? all because you made it beautiful?

he used to resent it. now he wants to carve it into the sky just so everyone knows you chose it. chose him. chose forever.

maybe the name was never the problem. maybe it just hadn’t belonged to the right person yet.

but now it does.

and now it sounds like home.