Idia-shi 💀✨

I love him so much

Your Welcome

I had a dream that someone started a meme at the bottom of their tumblr posts that was just a banner of harry styles giving a thumbs up with the text "This post is Ravioli Approved." It got really popular, and eventually Harry got wind of it and went on James Corden and said "this meme is Ravioli Approved." Everyone loved it and it was really funny, and Harry Styles played along. Until one day he tweeted "Donald Trump is not Ravioli Approved." And the next day Trump fucking died.

suddenly everyone was DMing Harry Styles like "am I ravioli approved???" And he mostly said yes, but the ones he said no to died. And the next day it would come out that they had been murderers or just terrible people.

They gave Harry Styles his own government Bureau of Ravioli Approval (BORA) and every baby born got an approval/disapproval rating with their social security number. Infant mortality dropped because every baby except the Disapproved ones lived.

Eventually he did like a 12-hour live special of him reading the death records of the last 20 years and approving/disapproving of their deaths. There wasn't any earthly repercussions to that but im pretty sure it meant he was sending them to heaven or hell?

The dream ended with a looney tunes ending card, except instead of porky pig it was harry in the middle with the message "This Dream Is Ravioli Approved." And i woke up.

When my friend loses me in a crowd:

Friend: I can’t find her.

Friend: This calls for drastic measures.

Friend: DRACO MALFOY IS EVIL!

-”HE’S JUST MISUNDERSTOOD”-

Friend: Found her.

gojo

he’s the loml.

Idia Shroud x GN!Reader (No pronouns used or mentioned, established relationship slightly implied, written in second person) Word count: 187 TLDR: Getting Idia's attention by meow at him because why not. (Kinda crackish) Comments: UHM I WAS BORED AND THIS HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK AND I FINALLY AM FREE OF THE URGE TO WRITE. Btw this may be ooc, oh to be a beginner

"Would you still love me if I were a cat?" You ask almost to fill in the quiet between the clicks of his controller and the background music of the game he was playing.

Idia didn't think two seconds before replying, "Of course I would, you would be a cat."

"You're not just saying that to make me feel better if I randomly turn into a cat?"

"I would pet and love Grim if he wouldn't set the rest of me on fire." He quipped back without taking his eyes off the screen.

You chuckled at you curled up beside him, and the most stupid thought came into your head: meow at him, see what happens. And so you do, meow after discontented maow Idia finally gets to a good stopping point.

Idia, after pausing his game, turns to look down at you, "Why do you keep meowing at me??"

"Cause: oh no! I'm turning into a cat!" You sarcastically say a you smile up at him.

"Srsly.. If you just wanted attention you could have asked" He gently strokes your arm while you grin at him. Mission achieved

ending comments: "cause: oh no im turning into a cat"

Idia is the type of guy who makes you a customized egg timer bc you mentioned you overcooked ur egg this morning

I saw you wanted some requests!!

Could I request kissing Idia all over his face? I just feel like it’d be so funny to see his reaction

I hope you have a lovely day!!

idia shroud who’s doomed with lots of kisses.

Idia was losing. Badly. And it wasn’t his fault—it could never be his fault—his teammates were just outright incompetent.

“Seriously? Who runs straight into the enemy’s trap without checking the map first?” he grumbled. “Do they even understand the concept of positioning?”

You were just lying on his chest, your body nestled comfortably against his as you watched him play. Your arms were wrapped around his torso, your face just inches from his, and you hummed a quiet tune to entertain yourself.

You were so close. Too close.

And yet... Idia didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of liked it.

He still couldn’t believe you two were like this now—so close, so comfortable. A year ago, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of letting someone into his room, much less on his bed. But now... it was his favorite thing in the world.

Especially when it was you.

Well, you were always the only exception to him whenever it came to almost anything.

Idia tried to focus on his game, his eyes glued to the screen as his character dodged another poorly timed attack from the enemy. “Are they... are they actually feeding the enemy team?! Oh my Sevens, I’m going to spam report them with all of my accounts.” He let out a dramatic sigh, his hair flickering with frustrated flames.

“Amateurs... all of them.”

“You get so worked up over your games,” you tease, your voice warm and affectionate.

He huffed, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “I-It’s because they’re so bad! I mean, seriously, who rushes into a 1v4 without backup?! Do they even know how to play?!”

You just smiled, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his chest. He wore his teal hoodie, the one you got him just because you can. “You’re cute when you get all frustrated.”

“They’re just... so ugh. It’s like they’ve never played a MOBA before.” His fingers moved with practiced precision, his character launching a series of attacks that wiped out two enemies in quick succession. “See? That’s how you do it. If I weren’t here, they’d be doomed.

You didn’t respond, your eyes still focused on him. Idia’s heart raced when he noticed, his fingers faltering on the controller. You were looking at him with that expression again—that sweet, adoring look that made his stomach burst with butterflies and his mind go blank.

He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on his game, but it was impossible. You were too close, too warm, too... loving.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You look cute when you’re focused.”

He scoffed, his face heating up. “I don’t look cute. I look serious. Intense. Like a soldier.”

“You’re cute,” you insisted, laughing. “Very cute.”

His heart skipped a beat, his fingers faltering on the controller. He narrowly avoided an incoming ultimate skill, his character’s health dropping dangerously low. “H-Hey, don’t distract me!”

“But it’s fun.”

Idia rolled his eyes, sighing. “You’re supposed to be my co-pilot. Aren’t you supposed to be helping me win?”

“I am helping. I’m boosting your morale.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, right. Some morale boost...”

Before he could say more, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his chin.

Idia’s heart stopped.

His body went rigid, his breath catching in his throat. Your lips were warm and soft, lingering for just a moment before you pulled away as if it was the most common thing to do.

His character died on screen, the revival countdown flashing in bold white numbers. Idia barely noticed, his mind reeling from the sensation of your kiss.

“[Name]...?”

“I told you it was a morale boost.” How could you casually shrug this off?!

Idia stared at you. How did you two get here? How did he get to the point where he was lying on his bed with his girlfriend, cuddling up to him, kissing him like it was the most natural thing in the world?

More importantly, how did he get to the point where he was okay with it? Did he actually want you to be this close?

Your lips brushed his cheek, softer this time, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down his spine. Idia’s breath hitched, his fingers clenching around his controller.

“W-What are you doing?” His voice was embarrassingly weak, his heart pounding in his chest. God, how pathetic he sounded.

You, however, didn’t answer, your lips trailing along his cheekbones. Then you kissed his forehead, his nose, and even the little mole on his temple.

Idia’s hands trembled, his controller slipping from his fingers and falling onto the mattress beside him. His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his body moving on its own.

“I like watching you play,” you admitted quietly. “You get so focused. It’s adorable.”

He groaned, his head falling back against his pillow.

“You’re... evil...”

You laughed. “You’re just realizing that now?”

“You’re worse than players who don’t know how to cast their character’s ultimate combo.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You then leaned in and kissed him again, this time on the corner of his mouth.

His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. You were so, so close now, your face just inches from his.

He swallowed hard. “You’re... really close...”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No.”

“Ok.”

He never thought he’d get to this point—never thought he’d find someone who accepted him, who cared for him, who wanted to be close to him. Someone who could understand him and make him feel as though he deserves to be loved unconditionally.

And yet, here you were, lying in his arms, your warmth seeping into him, your presence filling every corner of his heart.

“I... really like you.”

He likes saying it when he feels as though he needs to say it, which isn’t often, so it holds sentiment and tenderness.

“I like you too, Idia. Really, really like you.”

Idia was doomed. Completely, absolutely, undeniably doomed... and he never wanted to be saved.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

happy wife, happy life : gojo satoru

includes: fem reader, mentions of having children, elopement/marriage, and clan hierarchies

it’s a cold, empty sunday when you and satoru get married. you call it an elopement, and he prefers the term private matter. you both compromise that maybe it’s simply just love and you should leave it at that.

scandalous, maybe. but love all the same.

“your parents will kill me,” you say, laying on his chest. it’s cold outside, but satoru is perfectly warm. you don’t worry about what’s out there when his fingers trace your arm, goosebumps making home on your skin.

“think so?” he asks slightly amused. maybe a little excited at the prospect. he likes pissing them off, you think—you almost wonder if you should be scared of just how much.

“yeah,” you snort, looking up at him like he’s stupid. he is a little, but you don’t point it out. “i just married their clan’s star child. how will you make future strongest babies now?”

“with you, silly,” he grins, “we’ll make plenty of babies if that’s what you’re worried about.”

it’s the wink he gives you that makes you realize you married the right man. the type of man who knows how to get under your skin, making himself home there as he pokes and prods at your insides but makes you feel warm…complete. like a part of you was missing until he filled the void with his infinite presence.

“i don’t know if my cursed technique is currently on their radar to pass down to heirs,” you hum, nibbling at his fingers as they work their way up to trace your jaw.

he flicks your nose, chuckles when you scrunch it before cupping your cheek. his hand is big enough that you can hide half of your face in it so that his eyes aren’t as distracting as he takes you in.

it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time. or maybe the last. you can never tell if the way he looks at you is like he’s stunned or longing. maybe both. maybe he looks at you with a mix of everything all at once, like you pull every emotion out of him.

“don’t care,” he shrugs after a moment, giving you that wicked grin as he adds, “i can do whatever i want. because i’m strong.”

“how strong?” you challenge, laughing.

“really, really strong,” he says smoothly, “the strongest. so strong, that my prissy little mother can’t say anything to my dear wife.”

“oh, really?” you raise an eyebrow like you don’t believe him.

but satoru knows. he’s perfectly aware that if there’s only one person you believe, it’s him. the world could say one thing and him another—logic might tell you he’s wrong. your heart tells you he’s right.

“yes, really,” he nods with utmost sincerity, “she’s too outdated, anyway. kids these days marry for love, y’know. not for bloodlines and techniques and all that loser shit.”

“oh, forgive me. i’m really not too educated on these matters,” you nod along, “you see, i didn’t grow up on these traditions, i wouldn’t know the first thing about them.”

“right, right,” he hums like he’s beginning to understand your situation, “clan traditions aren’t very publicized, you see. you know how it is…we can’t let outsiders know our secrets.”

“ah,” you snap your fingers, waving your pointer as if it hits you all at once. satoru stifles a snort. you pretend your lips aren’t pulled into a wide grin. “i get it now. but are you sure you can tell me all this if that’s the case?”

“don’t worry,” he’s smiling far too wide by now, wide enough that you can dig your finger into that dimple of his that you love so much. “you’re my wife, so that makes you an honorary member of this clan.”

“oh,” you gasp, “i’ve made it in the network now!”

“yup,” he laughs. and you too. and then his lips are on yours, and your hand is on his cheek, and his breath feels like it’s your own as he shares his oxygen with you to keep you alive.

and you feel so, so alive.

“your parents will kill me,” you breathe, the words whispered against his lips, “i stole you away.”

“i don’t think you know how stealing works,” he clicks his teeth in disappointment as he shakes his head, “you can’t exactly steal something if it’s already yours.”

“i married a fool,” you slap his chest, “a corny one, at that. my life is on the line here, satoru. your parents will kill me.”

“i told you i’m the strongest!”

“oh right, i forgot,” you tease, “you don’t look the part.”

he looks at you wounded. the type of wounded that makes his eyes gloss with hope that you’ll lean in and kiss him to rebuild his crumbled pride.

you take the bait. he reels you in closer, closer, closer. impossibly closer.

“my parents might want to kill you,” he chuckles, voice just barely a whisper.

you hum, pecking his lips twice before he closes his eyes. “i know,” you stroke his cheek, “i was aware of the risks. love makes you do stupid things.”

“like what?”

“like marrying a man who’s parents want to kill you,” you say sarcastically, pulling a giggle out of him.

you want to tell him he doesn’t look like the strongest now, with rosy cheeks and dazed eyes as he giggles of all things. but he knows, you think—because he doesn’t feel like the strongest right now.

right now, he really just feels like a man who loves his wife. maybe a little too much, but never enough for him to be satisfied. so he’ll love you a bit harder tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that.

until maybe, one day he’ll be satisfied because you’ll be loved like you deserve.

“they’ll understand,” he says softly, “and even if they don’t, i’m pretty strong. people listen to me.”

“not me,” you raise an eyebrow.

“not you,” he concedes, “you’re the boss.”

“what a dutiful husband you are,” you pinch his cheek.

he grins, pulling you closer as his head tucks into your neck. it’s sunday, and it’s cold outside, and you’re somehow married even though you shouldn’t be. but somehow, you feel like you’ve swallowed the sun and drank her warmth.

“you know what they say,” he murmurs, “happy wife, happy life.”

reblogs appreciated!

ctrltoru — do not repost, translate, or plagiarize.