I'm Australian But Nonetheless If The Ides Of March Passes And Nothing Happens I Will Be Extremely Disappointed

I'm not working tomorrow morning, so fuck it. Reblog this post if you want a knife in your inbox on the Ides of March

i could really use some luck this week

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

ides of march is fast approaching, miku is ready!

wow, what a cute jelly donut! i think i'll name him caesar.

oh no, my jelly donut has been stabbed!! 23 times!!!

wow, what a cute jelly donut! i think i'll name him caesar.

Reblog if your blog is boopable-safe so you can get all the (probably new) achievements. I don’t care about notes I just want boops

cw: fluff, established relationship, secret marriage, modern au, celebrity au, secret relationship trope, gojo is a lovesick devoted husband, also he's japan's it boy, gender-neutral reader, all characters are 18+, SFW

The media loved to paint Gojo Satoru as some sort of playboy—a cheater, a walking scandal. Headlines with his name and posters of his face were plastered across the entire country, and not a single soul was spared from the rumors of his so-called scandalous rendezvous.

And it wasn’t until the media saw you— officially saw you—stepping out of the sleek black car, with that big fucking rock on your finger glistening under the camera lights, and him, Gojo Satoru, holding the door open for you with that sweet, love-sick smile painted on his lips did they finally realize.

"Oh."

Gojo Satoru was anything but a playboy.

And soon, every magazine, every article, every billboard, and every podcast was talking about him—Gojo Satoru—the loving, doting husband, he is.

A man completely at your mercy—at your every beck and call. With a single flutter of your pretty lashes, to every giggle that spilled from your painted lips, to the very twitch of your nose and scrunch of your brow, he was yours.

At every sigh of boredom leaving your kissable lips during stuffy social events, he was yours. Slender fingers trailing down the curve of your waist as he reaches for your hand, fingers tangling with yours as he gently squeezes your hand in reassurance.

Hell, even your breath—just the sound of it—was enough to have him running to your side like the devoted husband he is.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

Everyone’s been drawing Mikus lately so here’s Torontonian Hatsune Miku enjoying a beaver tail and coffee