#cake fixes everything

[magicalcreeks]

No, I don’t want Kon baking a cake for Tim that turns out bad and Tim happily eats it

I want, Kon baking a terrible cake and Tim taking a bite and telling him that it tastes funny as he takes another bite until his slice is gone and then Kon agrees after finishing his piece, and together they look up ways to improve the recipe

[giggasnap]

This is going to make me sound like such an asshole but I really hope Simon and Betty don't like magically reunite or something. The ending of the show made it plain to me at least that Betty CANNOT be back, she's literally on a different plane of existence and perception at this point. She's a chaos god. She's probably not even really Betty anymore, but some unholy combo of herself and Golb. The ending to Simon and Betty's relationship in the original show had flaws, but I think if their going to expand on Simon as a character, it would be redundant to just... Have Betty be magically summoned back and then happily ever after. It would be underwhelming. I think it would be best if they stayed focused on Simon overcoming his grief and trauma, or at least learning how to deal with it as a start.

[risingsunresistance]

please ignore all the cryptid mod stuff happening here-

i never showed techno off after i finished tweaking his card! yes he is overpowered but that's just because i wanted him to fit in with cryptid, an already overpowered mod lol. i still never figured out how to add my own cards in (i am not a mod maker at all) so i just overwrote one of their cards. that's why he still has the cryptid sticker (plus some silly "credits")

he's designed like the legendary cards are, so the card editions only affect the background and not him. i love the polychrome one, and i like that the negative variant makes everything gold :]

he's basically canio, but he will take any sacrifice. he's not picky 🐖⚔️

[lanternlightss]

i should not be rewatching arcane bc now i want to get into nameless bard’s head or have other character’s try to get a glimpse into it. like man

[mr-gentleman-scientistt]

I bring a sort of genuinely really struggling mentally vibe to the function that well adjusted people don't really like

[starlos-soulmate]

yall i am going through it

[frogshipping]

How They Got Together: Viti and Goku

This is a little post series I'm doing to explain how my s/i('s) get with a specific f/o. These are going to be summaries and not actual oneshots about the pairings (though they get long. Especially this one, because there's a lot of details!). The writing isn't even close to my best work due to the nature of it being a summary, so don't judge my skills based on this series

With that said, let's talk about my main selfship:

Viti zapped into the Dragon Ball Z universe at the beginning of the Buu saga, just in time to sign up for the 25th Tenkaichi Budokai. Viti hadn't yet realized what universe she was in; only that there was a fighting tournament going on, and that she wanted to compete. After changing outfits, Viti applied for the adult’s division, and began tearing her way through the ranks of the competition. 

Viti was having the time of their life, confidence flaring and heart pounding with all the buzz and excitement. She felt as though she could win this, make a name for themself in this strange, new universe. That was, until she noticed a familiar mess of black hair from across the way. 

Suddenly all of her confidence drained, fluster taking its place. They realized what universe they were in now. They would recognize the man approaching them anywhere. Ever since they were little, Viti had held great admiration for Goku. She'd grown up watching DBZ, and used it as a guide to train herself in the use of ki energy, as well as inspiration for learning martial arts. Before the whole media-universe-hopping-shenanigans, she would have never imagined she'd get to meet him. Even now, she hadn't thought she'd be a blip on his radar. Still, the saiyan with the sunshine-bright smile came over and introduced himself. Apparently, he'd been watching her fight.

Meeting him killed Viti's hope of winning. Yet the thought of potentially going up against Goku thrilled her. The reality that he was trying to befriend her excited her even more. 

The pair clicked immediately, their conversation easy and pleasant. It felt like they'd known each other forever. To Viti, It was a strange feeling. She was not one to trust easily. Yet she had no hesitation with Goku. And Goku certainly hadn't caught on to how flustered Viti was, only reflecting back the hyper energy she gave off. Soon, he invited her to join him and his friends as they waited for their next matches to start. 

And that's where everything went to shit. Canon events continued to occur basically the same from this point on, though Viti was there tagging along. She went with Goku and the others to confront Babidi. She was there when Vegeta became Majin and killed half a stadium full of people. And they were among the very few survivors of Buu's Earthling eradication. She distracted Buu by fighting him when Vegito was swallowed. And they helped project Hercule Satan's voice across the globe with her powers to help grow Goku's Spirit Bomb. 

When the dust settled and peace was accomplished at last, Viti decided she was going to stay in the DBZ universe permanently. They'd been hopping from media universe to media universe for years. Their hope of getting back home had diminished. This was as good of a place to settle as any. Besides, Viti liked the people here, and the possibility of participating in more world shattering battles. She also really liked Goku. They'd become good friends, and he even offered to train her, seeing the potential she had inside. Viti wasn't going to pass up that kind of once in a lifetime opportunity. So she accepted the saiyan's offer, and temporarily moved into Capsule Corp while she put her new life together.

That was the beginning of their soon to come relationship. As Viti and Goku trained together, they found similarities among each other. They both loved to go on adventures, interact with animals, and have a big tasty meal. Their humor was the same, and they joked around constantly whenever they hung out. Eventually they started spending time together outside of sparring. They had  a routine of grabbing lunch at various restaurants when they were done. Or Viti would whip up a meal for the two of them to share. Then that evolved into going to new places to explore. Soon, there were times the pair would spend time together and not even train at all. That was unusual for Goku. People started to notice the extra attention he gave to Viti. Mainly Vegeta and Chi-chi.

This friendly ritual between Viti and Goku went on for three years. Viti's feelings for Goku over that time started to grow from admiration to adoration. But she refused to acknowledge that she had romantic attraction towards him, especially because he had a family. 

That was until he invited her to spend a day with him in the Room of Spirit and Time. Everything changed between the pair once they entered the chamber. Over what–to them–felt like a year, their relationship blossomed from something friendly to something more domestic. They were closer in the room, with everything being just the two of them. They trained together constantly, slept in the same space, and cooked together. In their downtime they would talk of deep things, and watch movies on the laptop Viti snuck in. 

Things escalated when Goku witnessed Viti having nightmares. He took to soothing her after them, and discovering all the horrors she was reliving through them. Cuddling became a regular routine, and soon the pair couldn't sleep without holding each other. They sought comfort in one another, and began craving the affection. 

By the end, when they'd exited the Room of Spirit and Time, both had realized they were in love with each other. Yet neither confessed, returning to their usual routines. However, a few days after they had come out of the chamber, Goku told Viti they could no longer be around each other. Viti took it to mean he stopped liking them, now that he'd gotten to live with them and see who they truly were. Heartbroken, Viti tried to be understanding. She let him go and cut contact, even if it killed them to do so.

Viti put all of her focus on getting her life in better order after that. In a year's time; she sold the blueprints and patent to the teleportation device they'd used for universe hopping to Bulma, and struck rich from it. They bought themself a house, and started attending university to follow their childhood dream of being a zoologist. They tried to focus on spending time with other friends. They even got themself a pet chicken to provide more company. Their life was turning out spectacular. Yet, Viti couldn't fill the void that'd formed in their heart. 

Meanwhile, Goku was trying to fix his home life. The reason he was no longer allowing himself around Viti was because of his wife, Chi-chi. She was upset at him, calling him distant. She wanted them to become closer again, and the only way was for him to stop hanging out with his friend. Chi-chi called Viti a distraction, one that was getting between their marriage. She noted even Vegeta had recognized how much attention Goku gave the blonde god-human who'd come from another universe. 

Though Goku had realized he was in love with Viti (something he'd never felt towards anyone), he still cared for Chi-chi. Their relationship didn't have the traditional romance in it. Their marriage had been arranged. Yet over the decades Goku had developed a unique type of love for Chi-chi, the one who cared for his home and raised his children. He didn't want to mess it up. So, he complied with her demands and stopped seeing Viti. Yet he could never get his mind off of her.

Over the next year Goku and Chi-chi tried to work on repairing their marriage. Though the distance between them seemed to grow even larger. Eventually, it became big enough that Chi-chi no longer cared what Goku was doing, as long as he was working and providing for their household.

One day, while Goku was working one of his jobs, he noticed a familiar head of windswept blonde hair in the passing crowd of people on the street. Calling out, he grabbed Viti's attention, hope radiating from him like a beacon.

Viti, surprised, approached the saiyan beckoning to her, hardly recognizing him with the way his hair was gelled back. They struck up a conversation, catching up on all the things that had happened with the two of them over the past year. Viti told Goku about her new house and her status as a university student. Goku told her about how he'd become a farmer, as well as Mr. Satan's bodyguard part time. Viti commended him for putting in such hard work, and wished him luck in all of his endeavors. 

She was set to leave after that, her heart aching at the knowledge that he was doing so well without her in his life. Yet Goku nearly begged her to stay, offering to buy them both dinner when he was finished work for the day. Though Viti wanted to refuse, her heart pulled her towards him. So, she accepted the invite and met with him come evening.

The two of them came back together as if no time had passed. Their conversations were as easy as they had been the first time they met. Goku and Viti held great joy in finding their friendship again, even if both had feelings to hide from each other now. 

Things went back to the way they used to after that dinner. Goku and Viti started to spar again, go out to lunch, and hang out with each other. Everything was wonderful, and Viti hoped nothing would change between them again, even if in secret she wanted more. But nothing ever stays the same. 

During the following year, Goku and Chi-chi were having serious discussions with one another. Their marriage was worse than ever before, and the time they'd spent together with only the two of them had made things more hostile. Goku blamed it on the seven years he was in Otherworld. Chi-chi blamed their different life values. Both came to the conclusion that they were miserable together and wanted more out of living. It was a hard choice, but the pair ultimately decided it was time to go their separate ways. 

And this absolutely crushed Goku. Though he held no romantic love for Chi-chi, she was all he'd ever known. She was the mother of his sons. Trying to figure out a life without her was difficult and depressing. But his friends were there to help him out. And Viti was there to cheer him on. 

Goku didn't indulge in his feelings for Viti for a long while after his marriage ended. Though his heart pulled him towards her more and more. She was such a positive influence in his darkest time, and he truly was grateful for her presence. He didn't know where he'd be without her support.

One day, Goku could no longer ignore the yearning in his chest, the way he ached to spill all of his love onto Viti. He confessed to her after an intense spar, while the two took a breather to watch the setting sun.

Viti was completely blindsided by his proclamation of love. It was something she thought she could only hope for in her dreams. Yet she was hesitant. Surely there hadn't been enough time since his divorce for him to move on? Yet Goku assured he was ready. He had loved her for years, ever since that special time they'd shared together in the Room of Spirit and Time. Viti admitted she'd been hiding feelings for him since then as well, and even before. She'd always loved him, she thought. Even before she truly knew it. Goku and Viti came together in an embrace that solidified the true start of their relationship. And they've been together ever since.

[icekings]

so many takes in the tag r like. this person cant read/watch anything more complex than like dora the explorer and even then when swiper steals some shit they start writing essays like “no but this totally isnt fair, stealing is wrong and dora really needs that thing 😭 im so mad why couldnt he have just listened when they said swiper no swiping” sometimes bad things happen and u just have to learn to heal and move on sorry. sometimes u make a decision and it hurts l8r. n thats ok. ok??

[cuttledreams-bugs]

On the one hand, perfectionism is how I caught at the last minute that I'd accidentally gotten two of the insertaninvert's species mixed up with similar ones, and so was able to re-do them with the correct species (so bonus drawings for everyone).

On the other hand, perfectionism is why when I was on the cusp of finally posting, one of the drawings itched at me so badly that, even after days and days of working at it, I finally decided to toss it and start again. (technically also another bonus drawing?)

I told myself at first it was all fine, since I did almost all of it in total sleep deprivation and I should be nice to me, but the thought of knowledgeable bug people looking and knowing my crimes drove me to fix it all anyway lmao

[silent-sentinels]

sleeping helped but not much...

[peyton-warren]

I wuvs him. "I know it's open!"

[fushitoru]

in another life, i would make you stay a gojo satoru (fix it) fic

pairing ⸺ reincarnated!gojo x reincarnated!reader

summary ⸺ you are a sorcerer, married to your husband who bears the burden of being the strongest. firsthand, you watch the love of your life fall apart, the world burdening him until, finally, he dies at the hand of sukuna. as you watch him through the broadcast, you blankly volunteer to be next and you die, praying to whatever merciful god out there that, in another life, you and satoru get the happy ending you both deserved— until you wake up from your dream, gasping. why the hell was your dream so vivid? you were some sort of magician? with a smoking HOT husband? and why the fuck does the guy that's ten minutes late to the first day of lectures look EXACTLY like him?

warnings ⸺ eventual smut fluff and angst (the holy trinity of aashi longfics), hurt/comfort, reincarnation fic, basically you and gojo have a miserable life in canon and get reincarnated into a modern au where i fix everything and give you the romcom you deserve, canon typical violence, jjk manga spoilers, mentions of blood and injury, major character death, fem reader implied

a/n i'll see u at the end :3

December 23, 2018.

“How do you feel?”

The both of you lay, side by side on the grass as you stared into the sky. The only sounds that surrounded you were the occasional rustle of leaves, the hum of the late afternoon cicadas, and the soft, almost inaudible rise and fall of your breathing.

The stars were really bright that day.

The sounds of nature were even more tangible in the absence of traffic. After the culling games had roped in both non-sorcerers and sorcerers alike, no one went out, so the roads were all virtually empty.

Satoru frowns thoughtfully, in a way that makes his nose scrunch up. His fingers play through your hair absentmindedly as he comes up with a response. With the way he’s thinking, your heart aches to tell him that you want his honest feelings, his doubts and fears, not some fake image he perpetually paints on for the rest of the world. You temper the urge.

“Fighting Megumi is gonna be…weird,” he says finally, with a sigh. “I’m just glad the real pain in the asses are out of the way.”

You remember the day he had come back from killing the higher ups. There was still blood matting his face and hair, dried and flaking. His eyes had long lost their light, and when you had got him alone in your shared room, grabbed a washcloth to wash his face. While you made sure none of the blood was still there, he had asked: Did I do the right thing?

It had taken three face towels to clean it all. The others had gotten soaked too quickly.

He continues. “I’ve been walking toward changing the system for so long, I forgot how to want anything past it.”

You tilt your head to look at him. His eyes are on the sky, as if trying to memorize every cloud.

“You can still want things,” you murmur. “Even now.”

What is left unsaid from you is, You can run away with me.

It’s a pipe dream at best. He was born with the shackle of the six eyes, born in the prison called The Strongest. Running away from it all was as possible as it was for Sisyphus to escape the burden of rolling the rock forever.

At your words, he huffs out a laugh and turns his head just slightly, eyes meeting yours. The blue of them is softer in this light, dusk and gold turning them the color of worn glass. “I do,” he says. “I want a stupid house with a stupid yard and a dumb dog who only listens to you.”

You laugh, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes. “The dog would accidentally eat your god-awful heap of chocolates and drop dead.”

“Okay, then maybe not a dog then,” he accedes. “I could do with a cat. Just don’t confiscate my chocolates.”

Your voice is a bit stuffy when you reply with, “I would never.”

“Good,” His smile is crooked now, warm. “If I had all the chocolates and the cakes you bake for the rest of my life, I would die a happy man.” 

“You already have those, Satoru,” you laugh wetly. 

“Yeah, but I want grocery lists and laundry days and boring Tuesday nights. Not endless mission reports. God, I’m definitely not going to miss the paperwork,” he groans, and his tone would sound petulant to anyone else; to you, it’s a reminder of how he’s been worked to the bone.

You roll closer to him, forehead brushing against his temple. “We’ll have all of it.”

There’s a beat of silence. The wind rustles through the trees again. He closes his eyes and breathes it in, like he’s trying to make a home of it. You can’t help but look at his serene face and think,

I love you.

It goes unsaid.

Then, “You’ll wait for me?” he asks, almost like a joke.

You turn to him, gaze softening as it lingers on the line of his jaw, the sweep of his lashes, the eyes you’ve loved in a thousand different lights. He’s so beautiful it aches—like something out of a dream or a poem scribbled by a lonely poet on a dirty street, staring up at a beauty wistfully peering out of a window of a high tower.

“Always.”

December 24, 2018.

He looks like he’s watching the sky again.

You are staring down at the shape of him broadcasted through Mei Mei’s crows. The ground is soaked, and the sky doesn’t seem to know whether to rain or just stay gray. His eyes are open.

But you know better. And still, you wait.

Around you, there’s chaos. Your students, in disbelief, are talking loudly but it’s as if everyone around you is talking underwater, none of their words comprehensible. You feel someone shake you, but you’re still staring.

His eyes aren’t closed, but he looks peaceful.

The air thrums with cursed energy, of people in utter shock, and with fear so thick it could choke.

But all you can think about is a stupid patch of wildflowers blooming in your yard. They would’ve been his favorite color—blue, like his eyes when he was teasing you. Like his eyes when he told you he wanted a dumb dog and boring Tuesday nights.

You were going to plant them for him every spring.

You were going to make him cakes every time he forgot his own birthday.

You were going to grow old together.

Instead, you’ll be the one laying flowers on his grave. Alone.

“I’ll go,” you say.

It’s too quiet. Someone protests. You don’t even hear who.

“I said I’ll go.”

You’re already stepping forward. The fight is miles away but it doesn’t matter—you’ll find it. You’ll find Sukuna. You’ll follow the stench of blood and ruin until it leads you to him. 

You know your death is imminent, but there is nothing left to want anymore. Because a future without Satoru is no future at all.

As you make your way through Shinjuku rapidly, you can’t help but think of Yuji—his eyes wide and boyish, despite everything—as he shoved a flyer into your hand and told you to try that ramen shop with him once this was all over.

You remember Megumi’s ginger candies, the ones you had to keep hidden or Gojo would eat them all in one go. They’re still sitting in a dish by the kitchen window.

You remember Shoko’s voice when she said, “Just come back alive, okay?”

You remember Nanami, and Utahime, and Nobara. You remember every stupid, beautiful person you’ve ever loved.

You love them, but love doesn’t always save you; instead, it makes you walk straight into the fire.

Your life had begun when Satoru had saved you from that lonely, dark prison you were forced into; you remember how you had thought that he was akin to a glowing deity, descended from heaven to be your savior. A discarded animal like you, made to believe you were human again by this savior.

So it feels right, in a terrible, sacred way, that your life should end with him, too.

When you finally spot Sukuna, you put up a good fight, but anyone who watches you knows you are resolved, have accepted your fate and prefer death. You don’t scream or cry when it happens; you stare at his face when your body is cleaved into spilling your blood like an endless dam.

You just think: I kept my promise.

I waited.

Then, as you feel everything growing darker and darker, there’s only one thought left, just a silent prayer to whatever god that might still be out there:

Let us try again.

Please—let us try again.

…

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

You wake up from your dream, gasping.

The noise your alarm makes is an unfriendly wake-up call; in your furious effort to locate your phone—which has found itself nestled in your messy blankets—you notice your roommate, Maki, blearily shifting. You madly search to minimize the yelling you’re going to get from her later in the day (you’re already cooked by this point), until silence blankets the room once more.

It’s only until your phone is silenced that you register how fast your heart is beating. Then, when you trudge over to the personal bathroom you and Maki share and flick the light switch, you see that tears had flowed down your cheeks in your sleep.

What a weird fucking dream.

One to have on your first day of classes for the semester, too. You squint at your reflection, the fluorescent light doing your sleep-addled eyes no favors as you grudgingly get ready, brushing your teeth and washing your face and all that. You don’t know why it was so vivid. 

From the dredges of your mind, you first recall the flashing light beams and carnal violence in the destruction of the city, and then you. Were you some kind of magician? It was kind of like…Winx Club, but you weren’t a cunty fairy in cute clothes. Something about sorcerers, so maybe Harry Potter? Hunter X Hunter?

You spit out the frothy mix of your saliva and the mouth freshener. So ridiculous. You couldn’t even blame stress for the weird fanfiction at this point—classes haven’t even started.

Memories of the dream ebb and flow as you try hard to remember what else had occurred as you wipe your face. Gazing upon the white of the moisturizer you’re dabbing on your skin, a flash of white suddenly resurfaces.

Gojo.

A violent feeling overcomes your chest at the name, and you think you’re having a heart attack with the way it clenches like you’re almost about to weep in longing of a beloved. You gasp, cupping the left side of your chest as you try to lower your heart rate.

What hurts most of all is the searing pain, like a spiral of thinly corded string has branded itself on your ring finger. In your rush to look up in the mirror to see what could be hurting you, you don’t notice the red glow it forms. What you see in the see in your reflection surprises you: you’re crying again.

Tears have fully started streaming down your face with the pain, carving wet valleys on your cheeks as they went. After your heart rate slows down, you frown while looking down at your hands. Why were they shaking?

You repeat the name numerous times in your brain, each time causing you to physically tweak. Gojo, Gojo, Gojo, and then resurfaces Satoru, Satoru, Satoru—

It’s after the tenth time you repeat his name that your body seems to calm itself down and get accustomed to whatever emotional shock that coursed through your name after you mentioned his name. His name originally came up because you remember the main person in your dream: the white-haired man. He was the reason you decided to confront that…three armed man? Or did he have four arms? Regardless, you basically offed yourself after he died because you loved him, or something. With the way your body seems to physically shake at the sheer thought of his name, as if the utter image of longing, love may not have been enough to describe what you felt.

Realizing that you’ve drifted off at reminiscing sleepily, you start, as if suddenly animated. You pat your skin, setting in the final step of your skincare routine. Then, you click on your phone screen to check the time.

And notice immediately that you are going to be late.

Then ensues you scrambling to your room, putting on your clothes, tripping on the floor in the process, getting a sleepy glare from Maki that has doubly certified that you are getting a scolding, and then finally making it out the door. The somewhat cool fall weather hits your face as you walk on the pavement, checking your clock repeatedly to ensure it hasn’t hit 9am yet. 

When you make it into the lecture, you realize that it is packed. There aren’t many seats—it is a gen ed class after all, something on some ancient history, and you notice two empty seats, side-by-side, tucked away in the corner of the lecture room. You have to carefully maneuver yourself down the seats.

Navigating the maze of limbs and backpacks, you mumble a series of "excuse me’s" and "coming through’s" until you squeeze past two guys—a stern-looking blond with glasses that scream "salaryman thirst trap" and a loud brunet beside him. Reaching your target, you slide into the seat that leaves an empty one between you and the blond. You’re very pleased about the extra breathing room.

Maybe today won’t be so bad after all.

You prepare your supplies to take notes on the first (of many) syllabus reviews to come. In the meantime, you’re privy to hearing the mumble and grumble of people around you; it’s only when a throat clears itself at the head of the class do you see a man—probably the professor of this class, Yaga—who has the slides already up. Ancient East Asian History is branded on the big white screen in bolded, black Arial font. Clearly, graphic design was not his passion.

His voice projects through the mic and is fairly deep and resonant, so it’s clear to everyone, despite the number of people in the room, that class is starting. As expected, the next slide is titled “What is Ancient East Asian History?” 

“Let’s delve deeper into what I mean by East Asian. Asia is a subcontinent that’s home to a diverse set of cultures, and even so in East Asia…”

As Yaga speaks, time ebbs and flows around you. The monotonous sounds of papers flipping, pens scratching on paper, and the clicking of keyboards surrounds you. You can’t help but think the fluorescent lights, harsh and white, had to be designed to keep students from falling asleep, because their intensity paints the lecture hall in this weird lighting. The mood created by it is something akin to the filter horror movies perpetually have on—vivid, but cold and dark. Like when you’ve been up for too long to the point that you don’t know if it’s night, or morning, because it’s still dark out. Then, dawn breaks, the sun enveloping the sky in its warmth.

Suddenly, the heavy set of doors that serve as your lecture hall’s entrance open loudly—louder than someone who is sheepishly entering late. Instead of the usual indifference reserved for a fellow student who had slept in, the room ripples with murmurs and giggles, shattering the silence that had settled—save for Yaga’s lecturing.

You don’t look at first. You look at Yaga, who is pinching the bridge of his nose as he mutters, “In Japanese culture, punctuality is a form of respect—something we are clearly still learning.”

You don’t turn. You don’t need to. But, like a current pulling you under, your gaze follows the crowd’s. And you see him.

Gojo.

Suddenly, your heart clenches violently, and you can only help but gasp hoarsely and shut your eyes. If you didn't, streams of tears would flow down your face once more. You couldn’t help but swear internally; you had thought you had conditioned yourself to be stable at the mention of his name. 

But, almost as if it’s subconscious, you wrench your eyes open, desperate to view the boy. You’d assume something apologetic, maybe. Rushed. Someone with their hood up, mumbling an excuse as they shuffle into the shadows of the back row. But this—

This is someone who walks like he knows the sound of his own footsteps matters. His ivory hair is tussled, like he had just rolled out of your dream. He looks a bit younger than he did when you had seen him, but his eyes are the same unmistakable brilliant, cerulean color.

Now, he’s making his way down the stairs, skipping every third one with his long legs. Something leaves his lips, and it’s something humorous—depending on how girls and guys around him laugh, a shared sense of adoration in their eyes. You can only help but watch as he comes closer and closer to you, and you remember belatedly that the seat next to you is the only empty one in the whole lecture hall.

Yaga huffs and rolls his eyes, crossing his arms in barely concealed annoyance. “Nice of you to join us, Gojo.”

Gojo lifts a hand in a lazy wave. “Yaga, you ever tried finding parking on this campus?” The lecture erupts in barely muted half-sleepy giggles. 

It’s only when a particularly loud high five he receives—by the brunet in your row—that you break out of your reverie and turn to your laptop, flustered. Any attempt to act nonchalant would be funny as if the thing that’s wrong with you—that invisible thing—hasn’t been rippling violently inside your gut the moment you laid eyes on him. Like your body has just been handed proof. Like a wound cracking open in slow motion.

He’s approaching, long legs trying to get through the sheer amount of people to where the empty seat next to you was, and when he’s there, right next to you, you shouldn’t look up.

But you do.

When your eyes meet his, something ancient and awful coils in your throat. A shiver, not of fear, but of recognition so buried it aches.

Pearly teeth and bright blue eyes glistening. A breathless, “Hi.”

And the invisible string, that had spiraled and corkscrewed itself into the jumble it was, pulls—until it is straight and wrung tight. You don’t know this boy. You’ve never seen him before.

So why does it feel like your heart just remembered how to break?

Your throat is dry, but you manage out a “Good morning.”

You turn back to your desk, your fingers quivering. By your side, he’s moving and rummaging through the contents of his backpack quite noisily, one that can be heard throughout the lecture hall if one were to tune out Yaga’s droning. In curiosity of seeing what was taking him so damn long to find, you turn your head slightly, and notice the heaps of wrappers—all pastel colored and bright, like candy and dessert wrappers—that his backpack is almost suffocated with. Then, he pulls out his laptop, opens it, and resumes the game of Run 3 he had paused beforehand.

Respectfully, what the fuck.

As if sensing your stare, he turns to you until meeting your eyes; you were caught. Like a deer caught in headlights, you helplessly stare back at him, heat creeping up your neck, and his gaze leaves your eyes to look at your lips, which you were biting.

Then, he leans in slightly—you also inching yourself back because why is he getting so close and why is your heart beating so fast—and whispers, “Do I know you?”

You’ve never seen him outside of the weird dream you had, and it would’ve been weird to admit that you’ve dreamed about him. “No, I don’t think you do,” you whisper back, voice hoarse.

His lips quirk in response, but, to your dismay, he doesn’t retract. His brows furrow while he stares at your face, as if deep in thought, and nods, flirtatiously saying, “Makes sense. I feel like I wouldn’t have forgotten you if I had met you.”

Despite the cheesy line, heat creeps up your neck, and you can’t help but bitterly look down at your desk after giving him a quiet, “No, I don’t we have. I’m sorry.” If he flirted with a stranger like this, dream you must’ve had a really hard time as his wife. Shameless.

And thus the lecture runs its course. Throughout, you’re tense, the heat of his presence never letting you relax. You feel every movement of his fingers, his forearms, as he played his games or typed miscellaneous things that you didn’t see because you were physically forcing yourself to stare at the lecture slides, back ramrod straight.

It’s only until his leg starts shaking that you start feeling…weird. His reaction is completely normal; you don’t blame him, because Yaga’s been going over the syllabus’ section of projects and how you can’t change project partners for over thirty minutes. But it’s the fact that a steady wave of nausea is building up inside you, until a sharp piercing sensation overwhelms your head.

Then, a vision.

It’s hazy, as if projected on cloudy water. A shaking leg, clad in what seems like uniform pants, underneath a small wooden desk. Then, a hand reaches out to yours, grasping it firmly, and you feel a weird sense of nausea once more. However, it’s not the same feeling you’ve been feeling since your dream—instead, it’s a stomach upturning feeling of being teleported somewhere.

A bed.

It’s a small one, in a room that resembles a dorm. The hand grasping yours isn’t simply grabbing your hand; it’s now trailing up your sock-covered ankle, up your calves, and then under your skirt—

The murky vision gets even murkier until you can’t register anything anymore. Then, you suddenly return, the fluorescent lights being the first thing you register after the weird deja-vu-memory thing. The feelings you felt from the vision linger, including overwhelming feelings of euphoria, lust, and sheer happiness that bloom in your heart warmly, like a flower in fresh spring.

You’re so distraught from the complicated jumble of feelings that have thrusted themselves upon you that you don’t hear Yaga say his concluding words. It’s the jarring, obnoxious screech! of the chair next to you—Gojo’s—that you jump to your senses and realize half of the students have left. 

Thus, you hurriedly pack your things and book it the fuck out of there because you would rather die than be the last person to leave class, lest Yaga think you were staying behind to talk to him. You’ve had more than your fill of East Asian Studies today.

Maybe it’s best if you avoid Gojo, lest you slip up. The dream—and the weird reactions your body seems to be having in his presence—are too…peculiar. If something happened, you wouldn’t know how to recover.

In your haste, you don’t realize you’ve left something behind, nor did you hear the “Wait! You forgot….this” that Gojo had called out to you, staring at the object in his hand—and your retreating back—with a complicated expression.

next. the aftermath (soon!)

a/n short chapter, but this series is going to contain a mixture of: a lot of crack and fluff, yearning (as always, yall know me), and debilitating angst ("who did this to you??" oh i loved writing the angst) and crazy reunion sex. comment down below to be added to the taglist!!

to be clear, unless otherwise indicated, reader is getting these moments from the past as "migraines" / flashes / dreams.

TAGLIST P1:

@nithica @rh-tg1 @tbzzluvr @spookytyphoonfire @vsynical

@totallyuniquenut @yamiyas @nishayuro @nariminsstuff @starmapz

@sylusonlylove @purplemint @elliesndg @gggellaa @arabellasolstice

@arrozyfrijoles23 @yeehawbrothers @that-one-lightskin @candyluvsboba @avaults

@iheartkhloe @angelcherrry @madamechrissy @xxemmarldxx @lovenbesos

@liveforkny @nattie-smack @cherryredribbons @introvertatitsfinest @starlightoru-gojo

@hyori2 @gxldencloset @l0v3m3m0re @cuntysaurusrex @nanamineedstherapy

@oikawasxx @littlemisspoets-blog @anuncalledbridge @watermelonmuntchers @zeyno-14

@k-kkiana @nanamiskentos @kviwi @evawts @forest-nymph420

@bontensh0e @viiennie @blossomedfloweroflove @6isek @dreamssfyre

[cakeiscoolsblogthing]

The Northwests are cannibals now.

Let me explain.

So I have so many stories that it's hard to keep track. It doesn't help that some of these stories have multiple documents: one for the actual story and one for the notes and outlines and such. Recently, I've been coming up with a bunch of new stories. I want to write them all eventually, but I also want to finish the ones that I already have. So I decided that to organize my stories, I should create another document! It is called "List of Stories." It is exactly what it sounds like. I have it organized by fandom (there's also a section for crossovers and a section for one-shots) and I put the title of the story or series, then below that, I put the titles of all of the documents that are a part of that story or series, and then, depending on the story I'll put a brief description of it. (One of the descriptions is just "crack narration." I haven't posted that particular story yet.)

Now, the name of my documents often don't match the name of the actual story. This is partly because of Not Wanting People Who Might See My Documents To Realize That I'm Writing Fanfic (even though anyone who might see my documents will most likely already know that, lol), partly me being embarrassed about the titles (again, because fanfic), and partly me being secretive for no reason. So I don't remember exactly what I named all the documents. (Or, at least, the names are vague enough that I'm double checking the documents just in case.)

So I'm clicking on these documents to double check that I'm putting the right ones. There's an AU I came up with several months ago - I'm not going to say which one, though I've mentioned it on here before - that I had a little bit written of. I clicked on the document for the notes/outlines and part of my notes was "Things Pacifica thinks are normal but are not."

Now, it's been a few months since I opened that fic. I've been focusing on other stories. But underneath that heading I just mentioned was...

Butler hunting. The Northwests are cannibals.

I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote that. But it's going in the story when I finally write it. It's so horrifically messed up but so ridiculous that I'm laughing as I write this, because what was I thinking??!!

Anyway. That's my ramble for the day.

[kisssukuna33]

Sukuna is the type of husband who NEEDS to hold you when he sleeps.

Before he started being in a relationship with you Sukuna had trouble finding sleep in most nights, probably due to his bad working routine and messy habits that got fixed after you came into his life. And now he can't sleep unless his wife is safely wrapped in his arms.

You could be watching TV after a day at work and Sukuna will come home next probably tired as hell and in need of a nap. He is quick to wrap his arms around your hips and gently take you into his arms as he carries you to the shared bedroom, Despite your endless protests asking him to take a shower first,

"Kuna you stink, go take a shower first"

"Calling your husband stinky? You wound me darling"

"Sukuna please.."

"Fine then, but we shower together"

"But I just showered-

"Too bad brat"

When it's time for sleep, he patiently waits till you're done with your skincare routine. And if you take way too much time for some reason, like your friend calling you at the last minute to spill the hot gossips of the day Sukuna is there to remind you he's ready and set for his bedtime by scoffing loudly enough for you to hear. Petty man.

Taking a pee at night? Grabbing a late night snack because you're hungry? Those are impossible to do without waking Sukuna up. The moment you sit up in the bed, he's already awake, grumbling in his sleep and asking what the hell are you doing before pulling you back to his arms.

That one time you managed to sneak out of the bed without waking Sukuna up. You mentally praised yourself for the victory as you snuck in to the kitchen to eat the last piece of the chocolate cake. Before you can even take 3 bites you hear footsteps behind and when you turned to look, it's half awake and half asleep Sukuna with the blanket hanging by his hips like a toddler who ran out of their bedroom searching for their mom. He's scrutinizing his eyes at you, trying to figure out what the hell are you doing. Then he sees the chocolate cake and the icing around your lips and his face instantly takes a betrayed expression.

"Sukuna-"

"So you left your husband, all alone, in this fucking cold weather just for chocolate cake?"

"We have a heater?"

"That's not the point, the point is how a chocolate cake worth more than your husband"

"okay now you're being dramatic"

"This is straight up gluttony"

"Sukuna!!"

It's gotten bad to the point where you can't even sleep one night away without feeling guilty because you know this man is wide awake and restless without you in the bed. Yet you wouldn't change a single thing. The way Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you, keeping you warm and safe while soft hum of his snores disappearing into the crook of your neck, it's everything you will ever need.

And you hope it never changes.

[yukioos]

satoru having to adjust himself to your height

ever since the beginning of your friendship, satoru couldn’t help but tease you for everything. he didn’t necessarily make fun of you, or with the intent of hurting you, but more as playful banter. although sometimes you wouldn’t reciprocate it, he could always tell if he was going too far and would halt his words immediately.

even throughout your relationship, satoru would continue to tease you, whether it was about how you ‘dolled yourself up for him’ or how you thought about him when you went to a bakery, resulting in you buying him a cake, or for your height.

although you weren’t that much smaller than him, he always loved to tease you for it, whether you were an inch shorter or a foot shorter. one way he did this was by resting his arm on your head, using you as an armrest when he claimed he was tired.

another was when you were talking to him face to face. once, you complained about your neck hurting when you had to look up at the tall man, so he brought it upon himself to fix your pain… by nearly doing the splits on the ground to see you at eye level.

“y’know, i was at a different cafe in tokyo and this guy bought me a drink, right? so i was a little wary at first, then he tried to hit on me, and when i rejected him, he threw my drink on the ground!” you exclaimed, frustrated at the stranger’s outrageous behavior.

satoru nodded, legs hurting a bit from the stretch, “i wouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled, eyes averting to the ground before glancing back up at you, “why didn’t you just call me? i would’ve bought you a drink after that?”

“i was too nervous—“ you tried to make up an excuse for yourself before you paused in your tracks. what the fuck was satoru doing?

“satoru…” you warned, staring at his shoes spread apart on the ground.

“yes?” he teasingly asked, arms crossed and head tilted, still listening to you with a smile that stretched out his glossy lips.

you paused for a moment, “why are you standing like that?” then frowned, crossing your arms as well and glaring up at him. to him, you just looked like an angry puppy.

“didn’t you say your neck began to hurt from craning up at me whenever we talked?” he replied with another question.

you expected it to be a sarcastic response, but at least it was a little wholesome. there was definitely more truth to it, he just wouldn’t admit it.

“yeah,” you mumbled, nodding at how he was being nice and not sassy for once.

“doesn’t this help?” he asked with a smirk, knowing he still got under your skin for the small change in position.

“you’re just messing with me, aren’t you?”

he hummed, “sort of,” then laughed, rounding back to your previous topic of conversation.

YAYYY first satoru writing!! btw im not abandoning mha and just decided to write him for fun

[nekonaps0]

The mood is gone pt1

✦part2

✦gn!reader

✦ characters: Trey, Leona, Floyd, Jamil, Idia, Lilia

✦slightly smut

✦how the boys would react when things are just about to get heated with their beloved… and then bam! someone barges in, killing the mood.

Trey Clover

Everything was perfect. The kitchen was quiet, the air thick with sugar and tension, and Trey had you backed against the counter, voice low and teasing as his lips brushed your ear.

“You taste sweeter than anything I’ve ever baked…”

His hands slid around your waist, lips ghosting along your jawline when—


CRASH.

“YO TREY! Did you put those tarts in the oven—”

Ace burst through the door, freezing when he spotted the two of you tangled together like frosting on warm cake.

Trey jolted back with an awkward chuckle, eyes wide.

“Ace—!”

“Oh. Ohhh. My bad. Real bad. Continue. Or not. I’ll just—bye!” slams door

You sighed, untangling from Trey’s arms.

“Yeah… the mood’s gone, thanks Ace…”

you muttered and left, cheeks flushed in irritation.

Trey stood there, stunned for a second. Then, quietly:

“Ace is never eating anything I bake again.”

Later that night, he showed up at your dorm with a slice of your favorite pie and the softest apology kisses you’ve ever tasted.

Leona Kingscholar

The sun was setting over the sands of Savannaclaw’s yard, but inside Leona’s dorm room? The heat was from something entirely different.

You were pinned beneath him, his voice low and growly as he nipped at your throat, smirking when you shivered.

“Told ya I could make you purr, herbivore…”

But then—


BANG

“Oi, Leona! You left your stupid practice schedule out and now Vargas is—”


Ruggie’s voice froze mid-sentence.

Leona slowly lifted his head from your neck, and Ruggie turned a delightful shade of oh no.

“...My bad, boss.”

You wriggled free, cheeks hot and mood completely dead.

“Well, that’s ruined. The mood’s gone. Good bye Leona.”

You left with a sigh. Leona blinked once.

Then:

“Ruggie.”

“...Yeah?”

“You’re cleaning the training yard alone for a month...”

“Yeah… I know that’s coming… shit…”

Later that night, Leona tracked you down and wordlessly pulled you into his lap, whispering against your collarbone:

“Let me fix the mood. Right now.”

Floyd Leech

You were breathless, half-laughing and squirming beneath Floyd on his bed. His fingers grazed your thigh, teeth just barely nipping your earlobe as he growled:

“Shrimpy looks so biteable tonight…”

Your fingers tangled in his shirt. His knee nudged yours apart—

Knock knock. Door opens anyway.

“Floyd, Azul wanted to remind you to—”


Jade blinked. Stared. Blinked again.

“Ah. You’re... busy. My bad.”

Floyd turned his head slowly.

“Jade...”

“Just passing through.” click Door closes.

You groaned, shoving your face into Floyd’s chest.

“Mood’s gone,” you muttered. “Completely gone.”

You stood and left. Floyd looked betrayed.

“But shrimpy...! We were at the good part… nooo…!”

Later that night, he pouted on your bed, peppering you with annoyed kisses like a sad eel.

“Stupid Jade. Mood killer. I’ll get you back in the mood, Shrimpy... even if I gotta start from scratch~”

Jamil Viper

The music was slow, the lights low, and Jamil had you caged against his room wall, voice husky with restraint as his thumb traced your bottom lip.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me…?”

He kissed you, hot and firm. Your hands slid under his shirt—

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—BANG.

“Jamil!! Are you in here?! I learned a new trick with the flying carpet and—OH!”

Kalim stood in the doorway, eyes wide with genuine innocence.

You gasped, pushing Jamil back.

“Kalim!” You both screamed.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! You two looked busy!” door slams shut

You straightened your clothes, flustered and groaning.

“thanks to Kalim…Mood’s gone. Se you later Jamil.”

You left. Jamil stood frozen for three seconds.

“...I’m going to hex that carpet.”

Later, he cornered you in the hallway, muttering

“Im sorry for what happened, I’ll triple-lock the door next time.”

Idia Shroud

You were in his room… yes, the room. The glowing screens, and Idia looking like he might combust from how hard he was trying to be smooth.

“Uhh... so... if you wanted to, like, maybe... take this to, um, level 18?”

Your lips were already on his. His hair flickered neon pink as his hands trembled on your waist—

DING DING!


Ortho's voice chirped from behind the closed door

“Big Brother! You said you’d test my new program pack today! Should I come in—?”

“NOOOOOOO—!!”

Idia dove off you so fast he might’ve phased into the digital plane.

You blinked.

“Yeah. That killed it. Mood’s gone. I think it would be better if I go now.”

And you walked out. He groaned into a pillow, hair now a dull blue.

“I’m gonna fake my own death. Then I’ll haunt the server room and live in eternal shame.”

Later, he shyly tapped on your door with snacks and a very nervous

“I promise… it’s never gonna happen again…”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia had you right where he wanted you—against his chest, your breath shallow, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Careful, my love. Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll have to bite…”

You squeaked. He smirked.

“So delicious when you tremble.”

His hands wandered lower when—


SLAM.

“LILIA-SAMA!? I HEARD STRANGE SOUNDS—!”

Sebek burst in, wild-eyed and shouting.

“Sebek!” you both yelled at once.

You scrambled away from Lilia, flushed and fuming.

“Mood’s gone. I’m done! Bye.”

You stormed out while Lilia slowly turned to Sebek, a twitch in his brow.

“...boy… we gonna have a really fun training tomorrow… I hope you’re ready.”

Later, Lilia showed up at your window, upside-down, charming as ever.

“Now... where were we, my dear~?”

..............................................................................................................................