#shifting to JJK

[chunkymamatam]

Yooo when you have time, tell me about your JJK, Obey Me and Apothecary Diaries DRs (Just the basics like how it's been and maybe some interesting interractions, if you want)!!!! They're absolute favourite fandoms!! Also, what happened in TBHK lol???

-Reena

Yeah sure!

So what happened in TBHK was I could see ghosts and I made eye contact with Tsukasa’s little ass and that mfer scares me so I pretended like I didn’t see him but he started chasing me down “I KNOW YOU SAW ME” Bro I’ve never run faster 😭 that shit was wild and I’m never going back. He’s gonna get me LMFAO

JJK

Now Let me tell you the funny story of why I was even going JJK… In short I wanted to get down and dirty with Sukuna, I didn’t know how but I assumed I was gonna somehow get into his domain, preferably just appearing there. I fully didn’t intend to survive this encounter. I was like alright if I appear there he’s either gonna kill me on the spot or I’m gonna have 2 seconds to give this man the funniest offer he’s had in centuries

then after that if he accepts he’d kill me after… That did NOT happen. I woke up walked outside and started roaming wondering how imma get this done and mfing Satoru Gojo start following me saying “hey you” LMFAO I RAN

this man was gonna get in my god damn way. And he did. He cornered me at a dead end and said “you done running?”

“Yes”

“Cool can you see this thing.”

“Yes”

“Cool cool. You have a really abnormal amount of cursed energy. You should really be dead right now I don’t know how you’re still walking. Come on.”

and long story short we ended up neighbors. I know he has an actual place so idk why he got the apartment next to mine but here we are.

Obey Me

For Obey Me let me just tell you how I ended up in the Devildom for now because shit was so wild I stg. I woke up in my bed and I thought I just didn’t shift and I sighed, wanting to just go tf back to sleep at that point and all of a sudden my door bursts open and there’s Diavolo, Barbatos and Lucifer’s big asses.

“CONGRATULATIONS ON GETTING INTO RAD! YOU’RE ON AN ALL EXPENSES PAID TRIP TO THE DEVILDOM!”

AND THEN THEY CASTED A SLEEP SPELL ON ME AND THE LAST THING I HEARD WAS “oh goodness she’s naked”

I sleep naked. I could cry from embarrassment rn. If I knew I was gonna start that DR like that I would’ve put clothes on. I didn’t even have enough time to process what was going on. The first thing they knew about me wasn’t my voice, or my awkward mannerisms. No. It had to be that I sleep booty butt naked. My ego? Crushed. My self-esteem? Left the building.

Apothecary Diaries

In my Apothecary Diaries DR everyone thought I was mute because I refused to talk to them. The workers were even bitchier in person. They fr bullied tf out of me for being fat(not surprised), having moles and feckless, being tan(my camera takes my color unfortunately 😭), etc. So I just straight up wouldn’t talk to them. The only ones who knew I could talk were the Eunuchs who brought me to the palace and Jinshi for a good while lmfao. And I didn’t even talk to him fr for a good while(not bitching it’s just funny). Then the whole fight between the Lady Gyokuyou and Lady Lihua happened and Maomao was speculating so I pulled her aside and confirmed for her. It’s funnier because she was like “You can talk???” Like yes girl I just hate these bitches.

Then she asks me why I didn’t say anything if I knew to which I had to explain that I was bought from a foreign country and they weren’t gonna listen even if I did. Girl was flabbergasted. Love her she’s great. Nah we got called into a meeting with the rest of the workers by Jinshi and he held up two signs, one in Chinese one in English cuz I can’t read the characters 😭 by the time Maomao realized that I was trying to get her to come with me cuz this was about the two of us. To be fair tho even if I had run without her it’s really obvious when I’m reading something so he would’ve got my ass anyway LMFAO Lady Gyokuyou kept us both, me because when her and Lady Lihua were fighting I was like “Gyat Damn.” And I quote “I have made the mute speak and now you are mine.” She’s so sweet.

I need to go back to one of these places soon I miss it a lot when I talk about it.

[ember0666]

So I've decided I might try posting more Reality shifting related stuff on here. I don't post often but I'll try to more often though we'll see how that goes knowing me 🤣

I wanted to explain my current dr (desired reality for those who are new) because it makes me excited talking about it!

Right now I am shifting to Demon slayer or Kimetsu no Yaiba.

On this dr I am a Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps.

My name is Akira Kimura

19-20 years old

5'7 the same height as I am here

Female she/her occasionally they/them

My breathing style of Rage Breathing which I found online but tweaked it a little bit to fit more myself. I haven't worked out the forms yet but the gist of them is they make me stronger and faster than normal and if I get angry it gets even stronger. I also have a form that speeds up my body's natural healing. My own regeneration ability lol. But because it just speeds up the natural healing process it can make me tired or fatigued.

both of these were found on pinterest they're not line

This is my hair and eye color but tinted more red than pink because Reds my favorite color.

My hair is a gradient from a light red/magenta color and gets darker or black the closer toy get to the ends. I also have some streak of white that are also black at the ends.

My eyes are a darker red/magenta color but while fighting they'll either glow their natural color or turn red.

My possible s/os are Rengoku, Sanemi, Tengen, and maybe Akaza as well? They're might be a few others but these are my current favorites.

I'd love to hear about anyone else's drs! especially Demon Slayer because it's what I'm most interested in recently lol

Though I'm also shifting to

- My hero Academia

- Jujutsu Kaisen

- Angles of Death

- Undertale

- Security breach (possibly)

- Creepypasta

- Overwatch

If your like to chat I have discord. Pm me and I'll give you my username and we can talk! I prefer discord over talking on tumblr anyways 😅

[hinamie]

big fan of panels where they look like they wld beat me up

[yuutaguro]

“i knew you’d survive no matter what.”

[sof4toru]

if you ever get the urge to check 3d (we all do sometimes, it’s okay) go into your imagination, the 4d, the real reality, whatever you wanna call it and check it there. make a new story there. the 3d does not matter. to move on from an unfavorable circumstance or something that’s bothering you, you let it go. yes, i know it can be hard at times, but trust me and ask yourself what really is the point in looking to the 3d for validation?

[gojosbf]

Now that we've calmed down a bit let's look at this through different lense okay? Gege gave us gojo, the whole fandom was asking for it, even after his death, even though we knew his death was probably the only time gojo really felt peaceful. His story was done and he could've rested but everyone wanted him back. No, we needed him back because we were hopeless because we believed that if there was someone who can truly stand against sukuna it was gojo and in certain twisted way it exactly parallels what the characters were thinking too. They believed gojo wouldn't lose, so they agreed to this plan as worst case scenario because if not gojo himself, atleast his body will be of help. Hate gege all you want but he really played our jokes on us, he's writing what everyone wanted from him (bring gojo back!!) but he's showing the cruel reality of what happens when you reject death and how far do you have to go to reject death. Everyone is out here hating yuuta and shoko as if they aren't the same people who were advocating for gojo comeback without taking into account how and why should he come back when he was already satisfied with his ending.

[kalofi]

rest your head close to my heart

never to part, baby of mine

[riaki]

guys pls consider… lifeguard!gojo bit inspired by a post i saw a long time ago from @/shotorus, thank u sel + inez !

lifeguard!gojo, who signs you in for a pool session and gives you the wrong time-slot wristband because he’s too busy gawking at you with hearts in his blue eyes to notice he registered you to swim for 12pm-2pm. when, in reality, it’s 4pm in the afternoon and the hot sun is slowly sinking in the sky.

lifeguard!gojo, who mistakes your polite attempts to correct him as signs of disinterest; he sees things through romance-tinted glasses. of course he can't keep a wounded pride, and so he makes it his saturday afternoon goal to win your heart. after all, who in their right mind would reject him in all his dashing chlorine scented glory?

lifeguard!gojo, who reintroduces himself all suave and cool and he thinks it's working mid-hair slick-back— until he gets smacked in the face by a stray rubber ball, and his sunglasses go flying. it leaves a red spot of hashmarks on his nose, like the ball was a cookie cutter and he was the dough. but he doesn't mind, because he got to hear your pretty laugh as you pick up his shades and hand them back to him, albeit at his own expense. you even say a cute thing or two about the chipped popsicle sticker on the frame.

lifeguard!gojo, who's unreasonably (and immaturely) upset over the fact he can't seductively rub sunscreen into your back because you already have beforehand. but he's not complaining; it smells good when he's forced a little closer to you to avoid a rampaging train of kids running across the pool deck. he should yell at them, but the smell of summery citrus and sea salt wafting on the humid breeze distracts him.

lifeguard!gojo, who pours every ounce of his remaining energy into gettin your attention the entire time you're there— with loud whistle blows from the scribble-adorned plastic whistle hanging from his neck, grabbing your attention, only to just offer a charming wink in your direction. or, squeezing idle small talk between every lap you swim, teasing you with a lazy grin on his lips from under his shaded lifeguard stand when you complain about the heat of the blazing sun.

lifeguard!gojo, who ropes his poor, exhausted snack stand friend with the blonde hair and dark shadows beneath his eyes into helping him— when you give up on swimming laps and begrudgingly let him convince you into going down the waterslides as if you’re a nine year old with neon pink inflatable buoy rings around your arms.

lifeguard!gojo, who forces nanami (snack stand man) to ‘accidentally’ send you down the slide early— you’re caught up in the surprise, the sound of rushing water and kids shouting and a cicada’s buzz filling your ears— and before you know it you’re tossed into the bottom of the pool by the stream of water, disoriented and panicking until two steady arms fish you out of the pool.

lifeguard!gojo, who ‘rescues you from drowning’ holding you bridal style to his chest with his sunglasses balanced on the edge of his nose, letting you catch a glimpse of his uncanny blue eyes hidden beneath his dripping white hair. his whistle lanyard hangs loosely around his neck, drawing a line down the center of his toned chest.

lifeguard!gojo, who can’t help but double over as he laughs obnoxiously— boyishly when he gets to watch your face flush cherry as you scramble to get out of his arms and fall straight back into the refreshing water with a splash.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s forced to reconcile with what he thinks is defeat when he gets you kicked out of the pool early because of his earnest registering mistake— and in doing so, you forget your ring on the pool deck. it's just your luck— you don't even realize it until the sun's almost set and you’re halfway home.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s cleaning up and getting ready to close for the night when he spots a gleam of silver reflecting the hazy purple sunset, and he recognizes it as your jewelry (even though that was the first time he ever met you). of course he'd remember it— he'd been absentmindedly staring at your fingers, burning them into his mind; imagining how they'd feel in his damp hair.

lifeguard!gojo, who slips your ring into his pocket after trying it on and marveling at how small your hands must be in comparison to his.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s cleaning out the gutters, waist deep in the pool, when he hears your voice again— pretty like birdsong in the spring, dew gathering on the fragile petals of blooming petals.

lifeguard!gojo, who waits for you to come in— the gate was unlocked— and watches as you kneel on the concrete deck, elbows on your knees as you smile down at him. you look really cute, with your hair falling over your face like that, framed by the dying sunlight.

lifeguard!gojo, who’s a little disheartened when you tell him all you came back for was your ring, and not him. or his phone number.

lifeguard!gojo, who disappears beneath the water for a moment— then resurfaces from the pool dripping wet, hair clinging to his face while he acts as though he'd found your ring at the bottom of the pool. "it's stainless steel, yeah? don't worry about rust." he reassures you with a chuckle when you panic; he thinks it's cute.

lifeguard!gojo, who holds the ring just out of your grasp when you make a grab for it, laughing as you almost fall right into the pool.

lifeguard!gojo, who tells you he'll only give it back if you give him your phone number in exchange as he climbs out of the pool and sits next to you, on the gutters, the sound of rushing water filling his ear.

lifeguard!gojo, who, sitting by your side, focuses on the way the pool looks with the lights turned on, an ethereal underwater dreamscape distorted by the incessant moving water. a way of distracting himself from how beautiful you look in the painted sunset.

lifeguard!gojo, who gets his first taste of you when you ask him to face you; you muffle his yelp of surprise, but it doesn’t matter because you taste even better than you smell, a sweetness like crystal rock candy and blueberries on his tongue when his lips meet yours.

lifeguard!gojo, who takes the opportunity to catch your wrist and slide your ring back onto your finger with a quick lingering kiss to your cheek; his lips are a little wet from his earlier pool dip, but the dreamy look in your eyes tells him you don’t mind.

lifeguard!gojo, who sees you out, still riding on the thrill of your lips; the pride in his chest now that he's got your contact saved on his phone with an excessive amount of heart emojis and a (˘ڡ˘ς) next to your name.

lifeguard!gojo, who can't wait for the next time you come back to the pool, and who ignores the angry slew of texts from his boss scolding him for leaving the gate unlocked in favor of the selfie you send him.

you: [ one image attached ]

lifeguard boy 🛟🤍 : GAYATTTTT LET ME HIT PLSPLSPLSS 🙈🙈😝😝😝😋😋🤞🔥🔥🔥⁉️‼️🔞💯💯😼😻💺💺🗽

bonus: nanami gets u two popsicles to share tagging @sugumimi NAOMI I HOPE THIS IS WHAT U WERE TALKING AB my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE GREEN IN YOUR EYES MAKES ME FEEL WARM INSIDE ; MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

synopsis; in the comfort of a familiar bookstore, you find a boy. a pretty boy, who’s always reading, who doesn’t speak unless he has to. you’d like to get to know him — and maybe you will.

word count; 4.6k

contents; megumi fushiguro/reader, gn!reader, fluffy!!, lots of pining from afar, bookstore au, no curses au, reader is an overworked student bc uni is beating my ass, gumi is kind of awkward but hes cute <3, gojo mentioned twice (stay safe), can u tell im excited for christmas … :'3

a/n; bookstore employee gumi who hates every single customer except for you is so real to me

(@riaki its here …🙇‍♂️)

he’s there again. 

with a decisive step forward, you drag the door open, and the flutter of a bell resounds throughout the bookstore. a precious little jingle, alerting him of your presence. 

the boy at the counter gives you a glance. his navy eyes settle on your bundled up figure, and a flicker of familiarity blooms in the scope of his iris, a kind of recognition. something that makes your heart feel like a clumped up little ball of snow. 

(oh. it’s you.

you can almost hear the silent words fall past his lips.)

it only lasts for a second, barely even that, your gazes overlapping — then he’s back to reading. 

today, you recognize the book in his hands. the hardcover looks just a tiny bit worn, but still well taken care of. well-loved. and it’s a pretty rendition; a butterfly just above the title, snakes crawling on either side, vines stretching out across the scope of the image. there’s a kind of mystique to it. pretty.

wuthering heights, you read off the cover.

a little odd, in hindsight. you’ve only ever seen him read nonfiction. maybe he decided to broaden his horizons?

after a brief moment’s contemplation, your feet begin to move. taking another small step forward, inching closer, while the door falls shut behind you. blocking out the snowfall and colourful lights illuminating the street. 

mitten-clad hands go to brush stray snowflakes off your shoulders, as you shift from foot to foot, halfheartedly attempting to warm up your numbed toes. wallowing in the atmosphere of the cozy little bookstore; breathing in the smell of peppermint, the hint of freshly brewed coffee. from the boy, you assume — he’s got his usual mug on standby, a cute little black dog etched into the ceramic. steam rises from it, floating up into the air, and a fragrance of espresso wafts throughout the store.

low christmas music plays from the speakers, barely audible. pleasing to your sensitive ears and tired mind. it’s the usual mix of well-loved songs, for the most part, but then some you haven’t heard before. you can only assume he picked them out himself; pretty instrumentals, or low, gravelly voices, adding to that particular atmosphere simmering around you. nostalgic, a little melancholic.

the boy behind the counter looks angelic. 

he always does, when he’s reading — and he usually is. gentle, in the way he turns the pages, awfully delicate, keeping them still between his thumb and forefinger. lips pursed, brows just a tiny bit furrowed. concentrated, immersed. dark eyes trailing over the tiny letters, scanning the ink of the paper, twisting the syllables inside his mind. almost tasting them on his tongue, with the way he wets his lips. they look a little chapped.

for some reason, the sight seems to render you sort of speechless. frozen. like he’s a pretty bluebird seated on your windowsill, chirping softly in the wake of morning, and you’re afraid of scaring him away.

— his eyes meet yours, and you visibly stiffen.

it’s smooth, the motion of his hands. how swiftly he flicks the book shut, placing it face down on the counter with a twitch of his lithe fingers. not before slipping a pretty bookmark in between the pages, lilac-coloured, with flowers embroidered into the silky texture. you wonder if he made it himself. 

his voice spills out into the air, a little raspy. deep, but velvety, sending shivers down your spine. he clears his throat, and you watch his adam’s apple bob. ”do you need anything?”

a second passes. 

it catches you off guard, the mellow sound of his voice. when you’re so unaccustomed to hearing it. excluding the brief words you’ve exchanged paying for your novels, you’ve only heard it a select few times — mostly from afar, not-so-sneakily listening in on his conversations with the pink haired boy and pretty girl who sometimes come in and never look at any of the books. 

(there’s the tall guy with the not-so-seasonal sunglasses, too. but when he enters the store, all you pick up on are usually grumbles and threatening hand gestures.)

but now, that low, low voice is directed at you. 

it can’t be good for your physical health. or mental, for that matter. you’re not sure you remember to properly breathe, and you’re almost certain hearts aren’t supposed to flail the way yours is right now. 

when the boy behind the counter tilts his head, just by a hair, you’re finally snapped out of your little trance. stumbling for something to say, stuttering out a response, your hands grip at the insides of your pockets.

”well, um — i’m looking for a book.”

a moment passes. the song coming from the speakers changes into an instrumental, kind of jazzy. it’s nice.

”… a specific book,” you elaborate, under your breath. gnawing at your bottom lip, feeling a bit of heat on your ears. clearing your throat, as you step forward, tearing your mittens off with your teeth.

searching for a certain image, your numbed fingertips begin to tap at the cold screen of your phone. the warm air of the bookstore envelops your chilled knuckles, and a shiver runs through them.

the boy watches, silently, as you get closer. 

you don’t notice him glancing at your reddened hands, and when you look up to see a glimmer of something displeased in his eyes, you only assume it’s because you’re taking too long. speeding up slightly, you hear a low click of his tongue. his back straightens.

when he gets up from his chair, you notice that he's tall. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him do anything but sit behind the counter with a book in hand, either reading his own or scanning a customer’s. 

and, upon closer inspection — he’s maybe just a little bit too pretty for words. smooth, pale skin, a sharp jaw and defined cheekbones, dark eyes that hide a subtle kind of softness. pierced ears, a glimmer of silver on his earlobes, same as the rings on his bony fingers. his nails are painted black, a little chipped. and he’s wearing a big, bright green christmas sweater; one you really can’t imagine him picking out on his own, if his previous all-black turtlenecks and gray sweaters are anything to go by. 

while you fumble with the phone in your grasp, the pads of his fingers go to silently tap at the edge of the counter. a rhythmic motion; forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over again.

it’s a little bit distracting. when he moves his hand a certain way, his big sweater sleeve rides up just a tiny bit, showing off the blue veins of his inner wrist. you think you catch a glimpse of a mole or two on his pale skin, and you swallow down a gulp, feeling a little like a victorian man seeing a girl’s ankle.

and then finally, you locate the image in question. swiftly showing him the cover of the book you were assigned to read. he squints a little, blinking drowsily, a flutter of his pretty eyelashes that has your heart skipping a beat. 

you clear your throat.

”i’m supposed to read it before christmas break, but i couldn’t find it at our library…” you tilt your head, a little sheepish. ”do you have it here?”

he stares at the screen for just a second more. then he’s angling his head to the left, finger pointing towards a corner of the store. ”it should be over there,” he hums. monotone.

a tentative smile forms on your lips. you thank him, and his eyes find yours.

all he does is shake his head, softly, brushing you off — a silent don’t worry about it. maybe a tad gruff, but you sense an acute gentleness to it. something tender, kind of. or maybe you’d just like to believe the kindness you sense in his eyes is real, more than just a delusion. 

but you don’t have time to dwell on it. the boy behind the counter goes back to reading, cradling the spine with his pretty hands. when he tries to grab the handle of his mug, one of the rings on his fingers knock against the ceramic, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

you go to hunt down your own book, still thinking about his voice, how it trickled like honey from out his lips. 

the bookstore is entirely empty, tonight. no loud noises drilling into your groggy brain, no people to chatter amongst themselves and disrupt the illusion of peace you gain when you spend time here. a tiny respite, from your studies, from the stress and fatigue that you’ve come to associate with winter. hunting for christmas gifts, finishing late assignments, trudging through the snow. pretending that you have it all together.

but here, none of that matters. 

a sense of calm washes over you, as your eyes trail over the books by the science fiction section, and a soft sigh tumbles from your throat. gradually, your hands begin to warm up, and you look out the window.

outside, the world is blanketed by a veil of snow and frost, pure whites and murky grays as far as the eye can see. falling down to earth, smothering everything in a bitter chill. a cold, cold embrace. but when looking at it like this, from inside a cozy bookstore, with a pretty boy by the counter…

it's a breathtaking sight. 

little snowflakes descending, dancing in the wind. desaturating your world. if you close your eyes and focus, you think you can almost feel the wind nip at your fingertips, almost taste the fragrance of dried tea leaves and caramel fudge from the tiny shop across the street. almost bask in the green and red of the decorative lights in the skeletal trees, illuminating the city, buzzing with artificial warmth.

(your heart feels light.)

it doesn’t take long for you to find the book you need. keeping it safe and warm between your arm and torso, you walk back to the counter, gaze still lingering on the windowpane. the little snowflakes fluttering about, the glimpses you catch of passerby and their knit scarves in the darkness of the winter evening.

the boy behind the counter is as efficient as ever. he takes the book, fingertips resting exactly where yours just were, and scans it in a matter of seconds. you pay, and he puts it in a plastic bag, handing it to you — all while his copy of wuthering heights sits on the counter, pointedly, as if beckoning you to mention it.

before you can think to stop yourself, you’ve parted your lips. 

”is it good?” you ask. finger pointing at his book.

the boy blinks. eyelashes fluttering. once, then twice. he seems a little caught off guard, but still speaks within a split second. almost like he doesn’t even think about the answer. ”yeah.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. you shift a little, from foot to foot, plastic bag in hand. ”i’ve been meaning to read it,” you say, desperate to prolong the conversation, ”but i haven't had much time lately.”

a chuckle slips from your lips. it comes out sounding just a little exhausted. 

(he glances at the dark bags beneath your eyes, but you don’t notice.)

”i think i might buy it in time for christmas break, though…” you lift your gaze to meet his own. showing the briefest glimpse of a smile, polite. 

he doesn’t return it. lips pursed, silent, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. a navy blue, little splotches of a murky green blooming in the corners of his iris. they only appear when you’re this close. soothing, somehow. they’re pretty.

he isn’t saying anything, not a single word, and some part of your heart clogs up like a clump of wet snow. subconsciously, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, digging into the soft flesh before letting go. cowering a little under his intense gaze.

did you annoy him? 

(he probably doesn’t want to talk to you. maybe he thinks you’re hitting on him, or something. are you hitting on him? that doesn’t matter. he must be stressed — it’s holiday season, after all. the last thing he needs is some annoying customer taking up his precious reading time. 

gosh, what were you even thinking?)

you’re just about to excuse yourself, mentally berating yourself for forcibly striking up a conversation with an obvious introvert — 

when the sound of something sliding against wooden material catches your attention.

you blink.

the boy behind the counter does a little cough. under his breath, clearing his throat. he wets his lips, in what you immediately recognize as nervosity — absentmindedly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. 

”here.”

when you look down, a certain book is placed on the edge of the counter, right in front of you. wuthering heights.

another blink. you look down at the hardcover, and then back up at him, but he’s not meeting your gaze. if you look closely, you think you see a slight flush to his neck, red like a candy cane. 

”you can borrow it,” he says. a pause. then he continues, clearing his throat again, a hint of hesitance in his raspy voice. ”… if you want to, i mean.”

”… ah.” is all you can answer. barely a word, more of a weak little hum. an absent tremble of your voice.

outside the comfort and warmth of the bookstore, the wind whistles, digging its claws into the city. tiny whirlwinds of snowflakes dance from street to street, fluttering about joyously. you vaguely pick up on the song from the speakers changing, into a poppy christmas-themed kpop song.

a moment passes.

your muddled mind finally reacts. on instinct, sending little instructions to your frozen limbs. to your heart, face down on the floor, completely useless.

”oh — no, there’s no need!” you blurt out, putting your hands up hastily. waving him off. ”it’s fine, i can just buy my own copy!” 

but the boy only clicks his tongue, with that signature furrow of his brows. ”you’re a student,” he states, just a little gruff. but then there’s that kindness. ”you shouldn’t waste your money.”

you’re just about to protest, when he continues. ”besides,” he sighs. ”i’ve already read it. you can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

and again, your instinctual desire is to protest. unsure of what to say, somehow exasperated by his trust. that’s what it is, isn’t it? trust. trusting a stranger, a customer he’s barely even spoken to, not to just take his book and then never return. trusting you to be a decent person. a good person.

isn’t that naive?

something sprouts like a snowdrop in a ridge between your ribs, though, and you know that it’s happiness of some kind. you’re glad, that he has something even vaguely similar to trust in you. 

glad that he’s acknowledging you, in a way. your presence, the sneaky glances shared between you. the comfortable feeling that sleeps inside your veins when it's just you and him, silently passing each other by, in a quiet bookstore that feels a little like heaven on earth. a safe haven, of sorts, with no incompetent professors, tight deadlines or numb fingers.

it’s just him, and cozy christmas music, and a pitter patter rhythm of your heartbeat that sounds a little like jingle bells to your muddled mind.

a lump forms in the back of your throat. you gulp it back down, and part your lips. an unsure question spills into the open air. 

”are… you really sure?”

”yeah.” he doesn’t even skip a beat. fingers tapping at the edge of the counter, over and over again. another slow moment passes. ”we can… talk. about it.” he coughs into his closed fist. ”once you've read it.” 

with a soft furrow of his brows, he averts his gaze. his voice comes out sounding soft, albeit a little rough around the edges. ”if you want,” he adds.

you’re so distracted by the flutter of his long eyelashes that you barely even feel your lips stretch into a smile. your hearts skips around happily within the confines of your ribcage, and you’re worried that you might look a little too excited — but how could you ever hide your joy, when he’s acting so dangerously, uncharacteristically cute?

”yeah!” you blurt, teeth peeking out when you flash him a bright smile. and finally, he meets your gaze. pretty eyes fixed entirely on you.

at your evident enthusiasm, his shoulders seem to relax. the rapid tapping of his fingers ceases, and he opts to simply bite down on his lip — attempting to obscure his own smile. but you see it, anyway; a tiny, tiny smile. the softest little curl of his lips. you’re entirely mesmerized, all the same. 

a hand goes to rub at the back of his neck, and he does that cute little cough again, and you wonder if the warmth sprouting in your chest will be enough to protect you from the snowfall on your way back home.

angelic; that’s the impression he always seems to leave you with. you wonder if he has any idea just how pretty he is. if he has the slightest clue. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to tell him, yourself.

you wonder if you’ll get to know him, someday. if you’ll ever get to know the pretty, quiet boy behind the counter of your go-to bookstore, who radiates a softness so palpable you wish you could stay there until spring blooms beyond the windows and melts the frosted glass. 

with tentative hands, a little shaky — not from the cold, but the anxious and excited tingle of your bloodstream — you reach for the book on the counter. taking it into your arms, cradling it gently, like it’s so fragile the pages could scatter away if you aren’t careful. with a steady hand on its spine, you begin to flip through the pages, until three little words on the first blank page catch your attention. 

without thinking, you repeat the little scribbled down sentence under your breath. hoping for something. more lulls of his voice, maybe, mumbling to yourself but hoping he’ll hear.

”happy birthday, tsumiki…”

the boy stiffens. 

a silent beat. then he clears his throat. ”my sister,” he explains, and you hum.

so he has a sister. a tiny fragment of his existence, now known to you, a little piece of trivia. you want to collect them, want to put them all in your pockets and carry them around, like little precious bells. 

”megumi,” he blurts out, sudden, and you look up from the book to meet his gaze. ”my name,” he elaborates. and then a pause. ”i work here.”

…

in a matter of seconds, his face reddens. ears and neck slathered over with that sweet cherry hue, blooming across his pale skin. a soft giggle slips from your lips, before you can think to bite it back, and that red hue exacerbates. 

”mm,” you hum, an amused smile on your face. eyes crinkling as you look at him, book safe and secure in your arms. ”i've seen you.”

megumi looks a bit like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. squirming slightly, shifting from foot to foot, tugging a little at the sleeve of his sweater. looking into your eyes, and then back at the counter.

it’s sweet. it makes you feel closer to him, somehow. like you aren’t the only nervous one here. like you aren’t the only person in this city who’s a little bit of a mess. 

(it makes the sludge piling up inside your brain feel just a little more bearable.)

”… thank you.” you smile. ”i’ll take good care of it. and i’ll bring it right back when i finish it.”

a low hum. megumi brings a hand up to fix his bangs, nimble fingers running through dark locks. absentminded — a nervous habit, maybe? ”don’t worry about it,” is all he says. 

again, that sweet dichotomy; a hint of something gruff, hiding an unmistakable softness. a little like snow. cold to the touch, enough to make you want to stay away, but then it melts on the skin of your palm. turns soft and warm beneath your touch.

unable to fully hide the smile still lingering on your lips, you allow yourself one final inhale — letting that scent of peppermint and espresso invade your mind, soothing every frazzled nerve inside your brain. then you put wuthering heights in your bag, protected and snug, and get ready to leave. 

it’s still snowing. if anything, it seems to have gotten worse, enough that all you see when you glance towards the frosted windows are little clumps of snowflakes. obscuring everything else.

just when you’re about to speak, say a little goodbye, a voice spills out into the air.

”… the snow’s supposed to get worse. apparently.”

his navy eyes carry a gentle hue, as they look into yours. maybe a little worried, like a protective mother wolf towards her cub. you blink, and megumi sees it as his cue to continue.

”you can stay until it gets better.” 

a brief pause. his signature cough reaches your ears, and it’s enough to have you smiling, even before he adds a tiny if you feel like it. nonchalant, or at least you think that’s what he’s going for. he mostly just sounds like an awfully caring person trying awfully hard to appear uncaring.

and again, a little smile slips itself into the curl of your lips. all giddy and nervous, a little flustered. but happy. now you won’t have to walk through the relentless snowfall outside, feel the wind chew at your reddened cheekbones. now you can spend just a bit more time with him, bask in those quiet, drawn out moments of pure peace, browsing through books while he sits and reads behind the counter.

”thanks,” you breathe. adjusting your knitted scarf. ”i think i'll look at the books a little more, then.”

megumi’s eyes soften. relieved, you think. hope. it’s a subtle shift, but still enough to notice, enough to see. little splotches of a mossy green sinking into that sea of ink blue.

you think he must feel a little embarrassed, though. like he’s gotten too close to broaching the line he’s set up between the two of you. because he quickly fixes his gaze entirely on a book in his hands, a new one — was it just waiting beneath the counter? 

you don't think much of it, but you note that he's back to his usual nonfiction. something on astronomy, you think.

and with one final glance at his tousled hair, you begin to stroll through the store. languidly, walking to whatever spine captures your attention. savouring the tiny words on the back of the books, wallowing in the peppermint and espresso that wafts through the air, only growing heavier while you’re busy admiring the white opaque frosting of the windows’ glass. 

at some point, the low whirring of a coffee machine buzzes from afar, and when you turn to the counter megumi isn’t there. 

a little later, when he comes back, he’ll be carrying two mugs — matching dogs etched into the ceramic, one black and one white. he’ll put one of them on the edge of the counter, closest to you, and then meet your eyes. give a vague nod towards it, but nothing else. you’ll notice the red tint to his ears, though.

and when you do, a warmth will blossom in your chest, enough to chase away the phantom ache of the winter chill soon to envelop you.

when the little bell of the bookstore jingles its jolly tune, and the door shuts itself as you cross the threshold to leave, megumi lets out a barely audible sigh.

he thinks his heart may be beating just a smidge faster than usual, a little out of rhythm. palms against the counter, he allows his eyes to flutter shut — trying not to acknowledge the heat he feels on his face when he finally begins to process your interaction. 

he smooths a hand over his face, skin just a little sweaty. chewing at his bottom lip with two sharp teeth.

god.

really, it was no more than a stupid twist of luck. that you happened to come in just when he started reading it, that you noticed and didn’t question him on any of the contents. that you believed him when he said he’d already finished it.

and, sure, maybe he was secretly really hoping you’d come in. really hoping you’d notice it, that it’d be enough to make you strike up a conversation with him, something, anything. 

he happened to see you eyeing it once, that’s all. twice, and then thrice, each on different occasions. tsumiki’s old collection came in handy, rotting on the dusty shelves of her room — although he has no memory of her ever reading it.

(he remembers some, though. remembers her reading a few of them to him, on nights he couldn’t sleep. remembers the soft lull of her voice, how the whole world seemed blanketed by a wool of safety.

he wonders if he’ll ever get to hear it again.)

megumi’s heart feels warm. despite everything. 

even though he didn’t even get past the first half of wuthering heights, and has no idea what the hell he’s going to be able to talk to you about. even though he thinks heathcliff is a dick and catherine is a brat, and wishes they could save everyone else the trouble and just talk to a psychiatrist.

even with the cold baring its fangs outside, and the cup of espresso sitting right in front of him, still untouched, made with the store’s shitty coffee machine. even in the ugly sweater gojo forced him into. even though he doesn’t even really know you, not even at all, and still somehow feels certain that you’ll come back with tsumiki’s book in tow.

trust. 

megumi thinks it’s a little weird, how just that single overlapping of your gazes when you first stepped in seemed to solidify such an abstract notion. he’s always had a sense of it, though — a sense of goodness. an ability to seek them out, those good people, bubbly and cheerful and so tragically hard not to love. 

no matter where he goes, he ends up finding them. like tiny sunflower seeds persisting beneath the winter snow. blooming when spring comes around, in a burst of golden vermillion.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, megumi allows himself to wallow in the solitude of the bookstore. tired eyes soaking up the words on the pages he flips through, slowly, utterly at ease. drinking his shitty coffee, trying to ignore the itchy feeling of the sweater on his skin, unable to forget the memory of your stupidly pretty smile. 

so pretty he thinks it might just keep him warm, all throughout winter, until you return once more. bringing with you the glimmer of snowflakes on soft skin, and a pleasant fragrance of tea leaves from the cozy shop across the street.

a single sunflower, persisting even through the cold. 

megumi smiles. a tiny curl of his chapped lips, while he flips the pages of his book. content in the knowledge that this won’t be the last time he speaks to you.

(now he just needs to read up on some good papers on wuthering heights.)

[kanachaka]

Talking abt the Mary Sue shit again bcuz the only reason people don’t like it is bcuz they’re looking at it from a writing perspective (for the most part) but when I’m actually in these realities where I’m “overpowered” people are always grateful because they feel safer, like how selfish do you have to be to be like “dont make yourself overpowered it makes your dr boring” like I’m literally going there to save people’s lives?? I don’t care if it’s boring or not

[shiftinghoesblog]

My Jujutsu Kaisen Reality In-depth - You asked and you shall receive 🫶🏾

“Exploring the boundaries of Jujutsu Kaisen and My Desired Reality”

About my DR:

- My role in this reality is that I am a 1st grade sorcerer who teaches at Jujutsu High, especially Nobara, Yuuji and Megumi alongside my partner, Gojo.

- My curse technique is “Photosynthesis Manipulation”. Which means that I gain strength from the environment and can weaken curses. The higher-ups respect me as well.

Visual Board of curse technique:

- My main motivation or was to shift to this reality since I’ve been here before is to explore Japan but also beat the shit out of curses and be a badass.

Entries:

- Recent things that i’ve added to my script is scenarios with my friends, s/o or family.

- Also added that I’ll upgrade to a Special grade in order to help with Sukuna’s defeat. I plan on marrying Saturo at the end of the “Shinjuku Showdown”.

- I've shifted here already like my previous blogs I’ve talked about my experiences before.

Ask Box:

- if you have any further questions about Jujutsu Kaisen, scripting tips or shifting tips… my DMs are open.

- but I think you must follow me since only moots can send messages to me.

Introduction to my DR:

- my name Kyo Akagi and I am from the gojo clan, obviously lmao but let’s move on.

- here’s my appearance:

- i’m introverted just like I am here and I don't think anyone knows personal space in JJK so I did feel overwhelmed.

- I get along with almost everybody and you all know my s/o which is Saturo but i’m closest to Kugisaki.

- I’m originally from Osaka but had to move to Tokyo to attend and graduate from Jujutsu High. I also moved in with Gojo and we own a house in Tokyo, but I also own my own house back in Osaka (yes i’m a rich bitch).

Abilities and Techniques:

- ݁ ˖ name ; “photosynthesis manipulation”.

݁ ˖ types ; i inherited this ability since birth.

݁ ˖ others 𖦝

⎯ since it is to do with the plants gaining strength from the sun.

⎯ my curses can get boosted by the environment.

⎯ via some mechanism, i can severely lower the effectiveness of a certain type of curse.

- I have a domain expansion as well where I trap my opponent or curse in some fucked up dark ass forest.

- I’m pretty powerful with my skills alone because even curses are terrified of me since middle school.

[applenicoshifts]

Shifting signs

So.

im a firm believer that if you ask for signs you will receive them right? The other night I went to sleep , shifting in my head, but didn't shift to my DR. But... my plushie of my s/o arrived. I had a dream about him. My mom told me to draw him. A friend started watching the show. Pinterest was open (I left youtube open???) with a picture of him.

[hinamie]

off on an adventure ! this au turns 1 week old today

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

pose ref [x]

[windlullaby-arts]

Daddy’s home 🛐

[sof4toru]

please please please be nice to yourself when manifesting. it’s so important to acknowledge your feelings instead of pushing them aside for the sake of remaining “positive” all the time. it’ll only make you feel worse. acknowledge how you’re feeling, remind yourself that unfavorable 3d circumstances are not set in stone. they change the moment you decide against them. take this from someone who has major anxiety and overthinks every possible situation with the BIGGEST pain in my chest at the mere thought of things. sit, acknowledge, affirm against, persist.

[ogprettyprincess]

𝟅𝟈 some of my dr's ! welcoming potential mootties, lets chat <3 | last updated: 100524 10:50am

✰ anime

⚘ one piece , (1st) genevieve e. blue , 17 , s/o: trafalgar d. waterlaw , trope: captain/crewmate -> lovers (slow burn) , devil fruit: (kūki kūki fruit)air manipulation / (2nd) alira andilet , 18 , s/o: blackleg sanji , trope: crewmates -> lovers (slow burn) , devil fruit: (dangan dangan fruit) bullet manipulation

⟡ blue lock , satoru jena , 17 , s/o: micheal kaiser (slow burn) , family: gojo, geto (parents) + 4 siblings, team: blue locks eleven

𖦹 mha , gojo satori (yes) , 18 , s/o: bakugou katsuki , trope: strangers -> pining -> lovers (slow burn) , hero name: arachne , power: spider , family: satosugu & their 4 kids

⊰ jjk , taira kazuha , 19 , s/o: nanami kento , trope: mentor -> friends -> lovers , technique: string & invisibility manipulation , domain expansion: illusion of fear & desire , family: ren & kyoto taira (parents) kenji taira (brother)

꧞ haikyuu , ukai kananami , 15 , s/o: tsukishima kei , trope: strangers -> friends -> lovers , family: kaito & ben ukai (parents) ukai keishin (brother) , team: karasuno boys volleyball

␥ aot , geneviève ackerman , 15 , s/o: jean kirstien , trope: strangers -> enemies -> friends -> lovers , family: charlotte & oliver ackerman (parents) levi ackerman (uncle) , humanity's second strongest soldier :P , role: the savoir

⊞ atla , aoki kazuha , 16 , s/o: un-named oc , trope: strangers -> lovers , family: aki & rolan aoki (parents) kian & kano (brothers) , element: all , main: air, avatar of 3000 (?)

✰ shows

❀ obx , geneviève lambert , 17 , s/o: rafe cameron (not psycho) , trope: childhood friends -> "enemies" -> friends -> lovers , family: lyla lambert (mom) logan westwood (step dad) , role: man in the middle

⪩ twd , charlotte grimes , 21 , s/o: daryl dixon (32) , trope: strangers -> lovers , family: oliver & evie grimes (dad & mom) rick grimes (uncle turned dad) carl grimes (cousin turned brother) judith (cousin turned sister) , main weapon: dual blades

✵ bcd (/behind closed doors ; original reality) , katara brown , 18 , s/o: nakamoto arito (oc) , trope: strangers -> friends -> lovers (slow burn) , occupation: assassin in training , role: the finalist

✰ games

✶ genshin impact , (1st) princess enver le'mistral , 21 , s/o: kaedehara kazuha (?) , trope: strangers -> playful enemies -> lovers , vison: anemo , home: sky city (og) + fontaine , family: nalani & alain le'mistral (parents) navida le'mistral (aunt) , position: champion dualist / (2nd) tashita jinx - [under construction]

キ overwatch , ruben dawn , 35 , s/o: cole cassidy , trope: friends -> lovers , weapon: sword , family: mom , occupation: former blackwatch member, current ow member, frontliner

✰ other

✦ youtuber , (1st) geneviève eden silvestrè , 18 , s/o: n/a , trope: n/a family: evangeline & antonio silvestrè (parents) leo + angelina + dom (brothers & sister) / (2nd) imani eden monroe , 21 , s/o: berlin edmond , family: nilani monroe (mom) angelica & clementine (sisters)

◎ footballer , violet dupont , 21 , s/o: elisa de almeida , trope: teammates -> lovers , family: jamais dupont (dad) claude & blaise dupont (brothers) , team: psg feminines + women's french national

☆ actress , (1st) violette eden irl last name , 20 , s/o: drew starkey , trope: costars -> lovers , family: leila (mom) anastasia & june (sisters) , main roles: charlotte in obx + edith in despicable me + peyton in the game plan / (2nd) valerie eden auclair - [under construction]

𐙚 kpop , (1st) jenevieve eden levesque , 19 , s/o: christopher bang , trope: strangers -> friends -> lovers , year: 2020 , family: nilani levesque (mom) leo + angelina + dontai + alias + charlotte monroe (siblings :3) , groups: nct, nct 127, nct x / (2nd) - [under construction]

ᡣ𐭩 teen fame , genevieve eden morgan , 14 , s/o: elisa de almeida (15) , trope: friends -> lovers , family: jeffery dean morgan (dad) , main rolls - [under construction]

一 that's all ! if you have any same / similar dr's feel free to talk about them or dm me so we can !! (i desperately need to see satosugu happy if you can't tell)

❥ i didn't mention my waiting room cause that'll be another post, but it's basically a city shifting hub / giant waiting room for shifters from all different realities ! lemmie know if you wanna hear about it :)