#pls help idk what to do

[callixton]

um

[earthtooz]

hurt/comfort blurb based off an ask @missmeinyourbones received :3

gojo x gn!sorcerer!reader, he's ridiculous, lovesick and dramatic in the one but that's how we like him here so. enjoy!!

“where is our couch?”

gojo looks up at you from his phone, grinning at you gently with the small smile that he always wears; one you’ve come to adore over the years. this time, however, it does nothing but irritate you because there is a large, vacant space in the living room that has ‘gojo satoru’ written all over it.

“what do you mean?” he asks but the lilt in his tone tells you everything you need to know.

that one, gojo has everything to do with your missing couch. two, you have fallen for his bait, successfully tricked into talking to him because three hours ago, you refused to acknowledge his existence after a heated argument that ended with you promising to sleep on the couch. yet after one harmless trip to the supermarket, you come back to discover that your bed for the night was missing.

and you know him well enough to know that his giddiness stems from the fact that you’re finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for the past few hours.

“where. is. our. couch?” you reaffirm, emphasising each word so they can get through his thick skull. 

“is it not in the living room?”

he sounds almost delighted at this peculiar interaction, seeming proud of himself as his eyes shine with mirth. they bravely look into your frustrated and irritated ones.

“i am in no mood to bicker, gojo,” you begin, “either you tell me where our couch has gone or i kick you out.”

the sorcerer pouts from where he sits on the bed, curling into a ball as he stares up at you. the sight would’ve been more comical if you weren’t so mad. “that’s not very nice.”

“you don’t deserve nice,” you mutter, turning on your heels to walk away before gojo can melt you with those honeyed words of his. from the bedroom, you hear fumbling and rustling, followed by footsteps. 

instead of paying gojo any mind, you go to the kitchen counter where you left the many bags of groceries you bought.

he rests his elbows on the kitchen island, subliminally begging for an ounce of your attention whilst you sort through the bags. “would you like some help?”

you give him a brief side-eye before resuming. his pout worsens.

“if i tell you what happened to our couch, will you promise to sleep on the bed tonight?” pleads the white-haired, “with me?”

you sigh, “yes.”

“i warped it somewhere.”

“what?” you almost drop the carton of eggs in your hold. “what do you mean ‘somewhere’?”

“somewhere in jujutsu tech, i’m not really sure.” he cringes at the glare you shoot him. “i was gonna get it back if you agreed!”

that was your last straw. running a hand down your face, you don’t see the way that your lover stares at you with hope from the corner of your eye. 

“for goodness’ sake, why did you warp our couch?” you quiz. 

“because you were going to sleep there,” he murmurs, “and i didn’t know how else to change your mind.”

“you’re twenty-three, gojo. you should know a thing or two about how to reconcile properly by now.” 

his pout worsens at the use of his family name. “i am a man in love, y/n, do you know what they say about men in love?”

before you can even think of a snarky remark, realisation hits you like an anvil. whenever gojo uses his teleportation technique it always… leaves… something behind. 

rushing over to the carpet that used to be under the couch, you almost have a heart attack when you lift it up and see the scorched marks that occur as a byproduct. the white-haired leans against the kitchen island innocently, whistling.

“and what are you planning on doing about this?” you shriek. you try to remain calm, really, but it’s hard to do so because gojo has an affinity for driving you to the brink of insanity.

“i will get someone to fix it, i promise!”

“and will they not be suspicious that there are marks in our floor?”

“a little bribery never hurt nobody, and i have a lot of money to bribe someone successfully. plus, i have connections in the jujutsu world!”

you drop the carpet, giving up. “i’m calling shoko to crash at hers for the night-”

“-then i’ll warp her house.”

“can you even do that? a couch is pretty impressive already.”

“so you think i’m impressive?”

“gojo.”

“i don’t know if i can teleport a house but i’m always willing to try.”

you hate him, you decide. “even if you could warp a house, you shouldn’t, because shoko will kick your ass.” 

“but you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 

you say nothing, merely glancing at your boyfriend before reaching for your phone in your pockets. however, before you could even unlock the device, gojo is beside you, crouched down to your level. he maintains a respectable distance, one that does not invade your personal space whilst fulfilling his need to be close to you. 

“are you actually leaving?” he whispers brokenly, completely changing the atmosphere as his eyes begin to shine with tears that threaten to spill. 

your words are lodged in your throat at the pitiful sight. whilst some part of your brain curses you for giving in so easily, the other part that loves gojo (who are you kidding, all of you loves him) begins to feel a little bad.

he continues, reaching for your hand to play with your fingers, “please don’t leave. i’m sorry for what i said when we were arguing. i love you,” he pauses for a second before adding as an afterthought: “a lot.” 

gojo’s apology, although a little awkward and rushed, is nothing short of endearing, successfully quelling the waves of frustration and anger you’ve been feeling for the past few hours. although the hurt has not completely faded, it’s a little less suffocating to be around him now.

his life is far from normal, you understand that, and you realised that it would be something you had to deal with when you started dating him in your last year at jujutsu tech. but you fell for gojo because of his sporadicity. life may have not been the same ever since, but in a world where all you are gifted is targets on your back in exchange for keeping lives safe, his love is a refreshing oasis for you to return to when all is said and done. 

even though he expresses it through unconventional ways, such as teleporting your couch because he was heartbroken at the prospect of being away from you, you think it’s a fair trade. 

as a way of accepting his apology, you open your arms for him and the white-haired doesn’t even let a second pass by before he’s crashing into you. 

it’s comforting, the way he holds onto you like you’ll slip from his grasp otherwise. “i’ll go get our couch back soon,” he mutters into you, squeezing your waist a little tighter.

“we’re having a moment, gojo, please don’t mention the couch or i’ll be angry again.”

“sorry,” the white-haired raises his head to look at you, “can i at least get nickname privileges back?”

“you’re ridiculous,” you huff, “no.”

[pixlokita]

The stupid animal shelter won’t help (as usual) and we already have too many rescues in our house but someone abandoned a dog in our area, just left him there with his plate and he’s not looking too good. I want to help and take him in but we don’t have space or money for it anymore. Idk if anyone is interested, this is in Houston. He seems very sweet. Idk what else to do y’all, I called and they said they wouldn’t do anything unless he’s injured badly.

[girlyteengirl16]

guys i hate myself so much it genuinely gives me a stomach ache

[d0natell00]

[daily-hanamura]

[sapphicsundance]

Corazón Sin Cara

a/n: this is the first thing i’ve posted on tumblr and probably the last unless there’s enough demand 😭 ik the hype for miguel has died down quite a bit but i hope those that are still around like this silly little thing i wrote for funsies :) (srry if he’s ooc :( )

warning(s): mentions of alcohol (no one’s drunk), cursing, anyone can read but written with chubby!reader in mind, mentions of reader wearing dresses and heels but no pronouns used, no use of y/n, nervous miguel lol

Description: A night at the bar with Jess and Peter B., that’s all tonight was supposed to be. But because the multiverse is seemingly always against you, you couldn’t just have a fun, peaceful night without it being ruined by something (or someone). That’s why you found yourself in your current predicament, flustered and stiff as you swayed with the (admittedly attractive) leader of the Spider Society that was usually so cold towards you.

All you could feel were his hands on your waist, his skin warm even through the fabric of the dress you wore. Peter B. and Jess watched from the sidelines, idly chatting by the bar with smug looks on their faces. You sent them glare from across the room which only caused Peter to snicker and whisper something behind his hand and for Jess to send you a teasing wink. You heard a whistle from your dance partner, his index finger tapping your waist to grab your attention.

“Lost you there for a second.” Miguel’s head tilted slightly as he spoke, a small smile gracing his lips. “Oh- Uh- Yeah, sorry…” You stammered as you shook your head to snap yourself out of your stupor. Honestly, you couldn’t recall how you got into this situation. All you remembered was nursing a drink or two before being swooped away by strong hands, not even able to protest after he muttered a demand for you to dance with him just loud enough for you to hear.

From what you understood, Peter planned these outings sometimes in an attempt to have a “bonding experience” with others in the society. While the notion was sweet, schedule clashes and many other factors tended to leave only the small group you were with now. Miguel was an unexpected addition, half-jokingly invited by Peter in one of the many one-sided “conversations” they tended to have. No one actually expected him to show up, hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks as he deadpanned at Peter’s overly enthusiastic greeting. He barely spared you a glance, giving you half-assed wave before almost immediately ordering a drink.

You scowled at the lack of acknowledgment, bitterly taking a sip of the drink you had ordered earlier to get the sour taste of his disdain out of your mouth. Sure, he may not have said anything to Peter, but he chose to be around him. Miguel avoided you like the plague, always making up some lame excuse to leave the room whenever you two coincidentally had a moment alone. When you confided in Jess and Peter with your complaints, they simply gave each other a knowing look before shrugging dismissively and waving off your concerns.

You felt left out, like some inside joke was being made and your gut was telling you that you were the subject of it. No matter how hard you tried, you could never decipher that look that they gave each other.

But your current predicament was a direct contrast to his previous behavior. His big hands were soft against the plushness of your waist, it was as if he was afraid of breaking you. You could smell the hints of alcohol on his breath when he got close enough, but he was still very much conscious of everything he was doing, which only confused you more. Why would he be consciously dancing with you when he can’t even stand to be in a room with you? Is he just trying to fuck with you?

Even though you both were just lazily swaying to the song playing over the speakers of the bar, you were stiff. You didn’t know where to put your hands and you were avoiding direct eye contact with him, seemingly finding the empty tables over his shoulder more interesting than Miguel himself. You heard him let out a short, breathy laugh before his hands gently guided your arms to rest on his shoulders. Goosebumps riddled your skin as his fingers ghosted over your forearm before moving back to your waist. The new positioning only brought your faces a couple of inches closer, but with the way your face heated up you may as well have been cheek-to-cheek.

You were quiet for a moment until the song you were swaying to changed, a vaguely recognizable bachata melody playing over the speakers. Miguel visibly perked up at this, looking down at you as if he was waiting for you to say something. “What?” You asked with furrowed brows, narrowing your eyes in suspicion at the look he gave you. He shrugged in response, answering your question with a question of his own. “You know this song?” It was your turn to shrug. “From family parties, mostly. I don’t even know the name of it or what it means but I’ve listened to it too many times to count.” He raised an eyebrow at your explanation and let out a small hum, nodding in response to your words.

“I’ll lead.” He murmured, his gaze flitting around different points on your face, taking in every curve of your cheek, every eyelash that fluttered up at him, every wrinkle of your skin as you gave him that pretty, confused look he loved so much. “Here, let me just…” His voice trailed off and his hands pulled you in by your waist, his knee slotting in between your thighs. You didn’t say anything, the way his body pressed against yours and how his lips were so close rendered you completely speechless. You gave him your warmed cheek, eyes fixed on a nearby wall as he led the steps of your dance.

You were quite rusty, so it took you a moment to remember the steps to the dance. His proximity definitely didn’t help either. But before long your hips were moving to the beat of the music as well as they could in your tense and flustered state. You felt him lean down, his soft breaths fanning along the shell of your ear as his hands moved to rest on your swaying hips. “‘And if you’re fat or skinny, none of this matters to me.’” You turned your gaze back to him at his murmured words, a perplexed expression on your face. “Excuse m-” He shushed you softly, effectively cutting off your words.

He was quiet for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration. “‘And I am not perfect either, all I know is that I want you the way you are.’” You stared up at him with pinched brows, your lips twitching into a scowl. He was starting to piss you off. He snickered at your expression, giving your hips a small squeeze. “Just translating the lyrics, you said you don’t know what the song is about.” He explained, trying to stifle a small smile in fear of annoying you more than he already was.

It didn’t work.

You stopped moving, pulling away from him but keeping your hands resting on his broad shoulders. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked suddenly, brows furrowed in confusion and frustration. You reveled in the way his eyes widened in shock and how a nervous flush crept up his neck. “Wh-what do you-” “You know damn well what I mean, Miguel. You avoid me for no reason but you’re pressed up against me the second you get some drinks in you.” You huffed frustratedly, eyes searching his face. The flush had made its way to his face and he avoided direct eye contact with you, his eyes darting around every feature of your face other than your eyes. You pulled away from him completely, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him expectantly for his explanation.

He stood quiet and you scoffed, pressing your tongue against your cheek. “Can you at least have the decency look at me when I’m talking to you? Or do you not respect me that much?” His eyes widened and locked on yours at those words, his head shaking in disagreement. “No, that’s not what- It’s not because I don’t respect you…” He trailed off. He sounded desperate, like what you suggested was so outlandish he had to put a stop to that train of thought the second the words left your lips. “Then what is it, Miguel?” Your arms stood crossed over your chest as your heel-clad foot tapped against the hardwood floor of the bar impatiently.

God, he hoped he didn’t fuck this up.

“You just…” He cut himself off, sighing deeply and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to ground himself and will away the heat lingering on his skin. “You make me nervous. So nervous.” Your eyes narrowed at his vague explanation and you stood silent, a wordless way of telling him to continue. “I-I can’t explain it, you’ve been stuck in my head, it’s so frustrating.” He ran his hands through his hair with an exasperated huff. “Your laugh, your face, it’s all so annoying… but I can’t get enough of you. I hate feeling like this.” He rambled.

Your eyes were wide when he finished speaking. It felt like the world had gone silent, all of the music and low murmurs of the people around you fading into silence, leaving only the two of you. You suddenly broke the silence with a soft, unsure laugh that slowly escalated until you were gripping the sides your stomach in genuine amusement at the situation. He let out a few tense laughs, an embarrassed flush on his face. “So…” Another laugh cut you off before you took in a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the giggles that were about to escape you again. “So instead of just asking me out, you decided to avoid me? And then what? The feelings would just go away?” You teased, a bright smile still on your face as you continued huffing out quiet laughs. He looked away from you with a pout, shrugging in response to your question. His response only made you laugh more.

“I thought you hated me.” You sighed after finally calming down from your laughing fit. “… I could never hate you…” He murmured after a moment, his face still turned away from you. You crinkled your nose at his words, shaking your head softly as you moved towards him again. “That was really cheesy but… sweet, I guess.” You shrugged with a small laugh, snaking your arms around his neck. He startled slightly at the contact but rested his hands on your waist.

“So… anything you have to say to me?” You mused, lightly tapping his nape with your fingers to get him to look at you. “Sorry for ignoring you…” He murmured begrudgingly, a stubborn scowl on his face. A smug smile spread across your cheeks. “Oh, that was cute.” You cooed teasingly. “But no. I was thinking more ‘Will you go on a date with me so I don’t have to pathetically avoid you anymore?’” You deepened your voice, mocking his tone with a small laugh. He rolled his eyes at your antics, attempting to stifle a small smile. “Okay, okay, I get it, I was being ridiculous.” “Understatement.” You murmured.

You watched his face as he filtered through many, many different emotions before he finally sighed in defeat. “Will you…” “Yes.” You answered quickly with a stifled smile. Miguel chuckled after his initial surprise. “Friday at seven?” You smiled. “Friday at seven.”

[hamiltonandpercyjackson]

the opposite parallels between percy and jason in tlh and son make me wonder if rick is TRYING to kill me

-jason wakes up with 3 people ready to protect him and be his friend, percy wakes up immediately having to defend himself from wolves and monsters

-jason was escorted to camp safely, percy had to fight for his LIFE to get to camp jupiter with no guidance

-jason was immediately welcomed to camp, being given a place to stay and a tour to meet everyone, percy was ostracised and demeaned, being left to the least respected cabin

3,:

[nichestartrekkie0-0]

@unknownfaceless-ds9 you said something about Aenar/Vulcan enemies to lovers over the office thermostat feud? Alas, the quality has been murdered (It was a Pinterest ref anywho) I'm now attached to both of them and am currently cooking something up :3 THANK YOU for the idea!! (Tagged some mutuals below)

@tuvok-enjoyer @bumblingbabooshka ya'll idk what I'm doing with Vulcans if you have any rants/advice/wikis etc to share I'd love to see some :)) if not, np :)

[j4mmyzpop]

This took longer then it was suppose to be but is dinner served or?

[ 🎲🎰 ]

HERE'S THE PREVIOUS VOTING POLL RESULT LOL, I MIGHT DO IT AGAIN BECAUSE I AM CLUELESS UNMOTIVATED...

[madebypointlesswords]

Merlin: I love everything about you <3 Arthur: even my family? Merlin: let's not open that door

[mishajensendestiel]

Anyone have any aziracrow prompts for me? I LOVE Crowley and Aziraphale but I cannot think what to write.

[girlyteengirl16]

when even the drugs don’t make you forget

[roonotrue]

Cotl Fanfic - Thoughts & Opinions?

So, this is the first post on this new account and it's a question for my Cult of the Lamb fandom pookies. I just recently got the game and I'm obsessed with it and have been thinking about writing a BUNCH of fanfiction.

So I wanted notes and suggestions on some things, and I might even make polls on some of them, starting most importantly with the topic below:

Gender, Pronouns, and Sexuality that are so far, are solely based on vibes and what I've seen the rest of the fandom agreeing on (And canon of course):

- The Lamb's identity will probs change depending on the fic type, but for most of them they will be assigned male at birth, He/They & Pansexual. Simple and sweet because our lamb boi is just tryna SURVIVE out here in a cult of idiots that can't even cook their own food or clean up their own shit. (Is this just me wanting to write more he/they characters in my stories because I'm he/they? Yes. Yes, it is folks.)

- Narinder is transgender male He/Him. I'm making him transgender male because I said so. I want more trans rep guys, leave me alone. & Homosexual because if his whole vibe and personality doesn't scream gay angsty emo cat I don't know what else in this world does.

- Leshy is cisgender He/Him. I can imagine him experimenting with they/them though. I may include something on that... If anyone has any notes on that I'm all ears. Best Bi. His level of chaos just radiates ADHD bisexual with way too much energy and free time.

- Heket is cis-gender She/Her. The only girlie in the family, fates have mercy on her and her patience. A lesbian for sure. I think the whole fandom just sort of agrees on this, right? With like, lots of wives because she is a highkey baddie? At least that's the impression I've been given based on all of her fanart and simps.

- Calamari- Sorry, I mean Kallamar, is cis-gendered He/Him. I was thinking of making him a transgender man too? Idk, I've just been told the cis's need rep too, and it made me gag and now I want to wave my magic writer wand and make all the characters trans and nonbinary. Opinions on that are welcome. Anyway. A pansexual, and I hear he canonically had multiple spouses? Despite looking like he has zero rizz. I mean, damn. Good for him I guess. Go squid boy, go.

In this, he's gonna be single though, because I like the idea of him struggling to find new spouses and Heket laughing at his struggle.

- Shamura is absolutely nonbinary they/them. A friend has told me this is canon, and that people may gun for my fucking throat if I change it. Not that I really want to, it fits. Shamura is lowkey one of my favorites. I just like spiders. I'm also deeply afraid of them and cry if I see them irl. I also think they're bisexual in the exact opposite way as Leshy, in that they are a calm, mildly tired wine aunt of the family, mixed with the senile grandparent that snores loudly then stops and everyone pauses and looks at each other like 'Are... Are they fucking dead?'

Anyway, this is a long post, but I needed to get this out there before I started writing stuff for this fandom. Any opinions are welcome, but no bullying other people's thoughts, and be chill guys.

Fr. I'm like a skittish cat, you'll scare me away, and then no one gets fanfiction.

[pepperpixel]

Let's meet Jeffery (Jeffery!) Shoots dope lefty Yellin', "You can't catch me!" Drove way out to the sea in a Jetski

Oh, my Gertrude, I don't wanna hurt you I just wanna live like a soda commercial Found her on the shore in her brand new church shoes Covered in burns, face all purple!!!

humanformer whirls… cuz I’m… obsessed… forever and ever I am obsessed and in love w him and I also, rlly enjoy drawing my human version of him more than what he actually looks like ghgh- I’m srry… for that…

i actually have MORE pics of him im still working on,,, cuz im in a mood, so look forward to those as well lol (Also, in case its hard to read, the words in the 2nd to last pic say: “eye removed, lid stitched shut” + “Surgical at first, whirl ripped out the stitches on purpose. (To have control)”)

[rottmntfan69]

When I ask my mom for McDonalds and she says no: