calitears

[calitears]

SHUT UP AND DRIVE CHAPTER THREE: blame it on the alcohol

masterlist. || 2.8k

The bar is loud. 

The music pulses through the club like a heartbeat, swallowing the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses of their way too tipsy patrons. You’re on your second—or was it third?—drink, a hazy warmth spreading through your chest and cheeks. Nobara and Panda are still at the bar with you, their conversation blurring into background noise but the smiles on their faces are unmistakable. 

They’re having fun. 

Maki is off somewhere trying to cool down after threatening one too many guys who thought they could test their luck with her. But even in your slightly foggy state, you can tell she’s enjoying herself. Something you wish you could do. It was your idea, to begin with, yet you seem to be the only one unable to let go and enjoy the night. The only one still stuck up on the past– stuck on him.

Memories cling to you like cigarette smoke, faint but impossible to shake. They seep into your thoughts without warning, thickly wrapping around you and suffocating you until you choke. His voice, his stupid smile, the way he used to look at you before everything went to hell—it’s all too vivid, too much for you to handle. Honestly, you’d blame the alcohol, but you know better to know it's more than that.

You down the rest of your drink in a desperate attempt to drown the thoughts. It burns against the back of your throat, but not enough to make it disappear. Nobaras gaze shifts over to you as you lightly slam the glass on the bar, using her elbow to nudge you back to the present. One look at her face and you can tell she's worried, her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips are tugged into a pout.

“You good?” she asks, her words slightly slurred but full of concern.

You force a smile and nod. She doesn’t look convinced, but before she can press further, your eyes catch movement near the entrance. And just like that, the air is sucked out of the room. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

The sight of a familiar figure walking in, your eyes follow him like a hawk, dread bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you realize who it is. You take another sip of your drink, but it doesn’t drown out the irritation bubbling under the surface. “What’s he even doing here?” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone else.

Panda, suddenly interested in the conversation glances over his shoulder, following your gaze. “Who?”

You don’t even need to answer before he spots him—Megumi. His dark hair is messier than usual, and his expression is unreadable as he surveys the crowd. Yuji walks beside him, grinning and chatting animatedly, with Toge and Yuta trailing close behind.

“Relax,” Nobara says, nudging your shoulder with her elbow. “He’s not here for you.”

You scoff, swirling the remnants of your drink in the glass. “Yeah, sure. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

You can feel the tension creeping into your muscles, and your grip on the glass tightens, the memories threatening to overwhelm you again. As if on cue, Megumi starts making his way toward the bar.

“Great,” you mutter under your breath.

Before he can get close enough to say anything, someone steps into your peripheral vision.—a tall guy in a leather jacket, with tattoos peeking out from beneath his sleeves and spiky buns perched atop his head.

“Choso,” he introduces himself smoothly, his voice a stark contrast to the noise around you.

You give him your name in return, your tone clipped but curious. You look back at your friends to find them giving you a playful smile, a silent confirmation that its ok for you to talk to someone else. Nobara wraps her arm around Pands neck and drags him away to the dance floor to give you some more privacy. You give them a small wave before returning our focus back onto the man beside you. 

Choso leans against the bar, his attention on you like you’re the only person in the room. “You look like you could use a distraction,” he says smoothly, his voice low enough to cut through the noise.

You blink, momentarily caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”

He smirks, glancing at your empty glass. “Just a hunch.”

His confidence is almost enough to make you forget Megumi’s looming presence. Almost. But when you steal a glance in his direction, you realize Megumi’s stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene.

Choso notices, too. His smirk widens. “Friend of yours?”

“Not exactly,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“Good,” he says, “Looks like you could use another,” he says, nodding toward your empty glass.

You hesitate for a moment, gaze narrowing as you asses him but wave the bartender down. “Why not?” You take a glance back at megumi but see that he's now long gone, you don't sit on it for long, but there's a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. A warning, perhaps. As the bartender pours another drink, Choso leans in slightly, his presence both grounding and electrifying. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Your lips curl into a dry smile. “You could say that.”

His gaze flicks to the dance floor, then back to you. “Let me guess—guy trouble?”

Your laugh is humorless, but it feels good to let it out. “That obvious?”

“Call it a lucky guess,” 

By the time your drinks are half-empty, the banter has shifted into something heavier. There’s a sharp edge to Choso’s words when he mentions his reasons for being here, though he doesn’t share much. You, in turn, share yours. His eyes never waver from yours, listening to your words without judgment, and it feels nice. Nice to not have to worry about someone taking your words the wrong way– not having to worry about being the image of perfection that the world has thrown onto you. His presence is magnetizing like he's pulling you in and you're so close to falling–giving in. But when his hand brushes against yours on the counter, you feel a momentary jolt—you pull back, blinking while shaking your head slightly. 

“Not a good idea,” you murmur. You know better than anyone that you're not in the right state of mind to start something you’re sure you would regret. 

He studies you for a moment, his expression softening. “Still stuck on someone, huh?”

You grimace but nod. “Something like that.”

“That’s fine,” he says, pulling out a gum wrapper and a pen. You glance at him, a little confused at the sudden shift, but when he hands you the wrapper, you see his number written inside. 

“Call me if you ever get over it.”

You stare at the number, stunned, as he rises from the bar, offering a smirk before he walks away.

You’re still processing when a familiar voice cuts through the haze. “Hey! Who was that?” Nobara asks, sliding onto the stool next to you, cheeks flushed from dancing. Panda follows close behind, grinning ear to ear.

You quickly fold the wrapper and tuck it into your pocket. “No one,” you reply, maybe too quickly.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause it sure didn’t look like no one,” Panda teases, nudging your shoulder as he grabs a napkin to wipe his damp forehead. “That guy had a whole vibe going.”

Before you can come up with a deflection, another voice joins in. “What guy?” Maki appears behind them, her arms crossed and a skeptical eyebrow raised. Her sharp gaze flicks from your face to the spot where Choso had been sitting moments ago.

“Some guy that was totally flirting with her,” Nobara blurts, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “He gave her his number. Isn’t that adorable.”

“It wasn’t like that,” you mumble, grabbing your drink to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes.

Maki moves closer, her tone a little more serious. “Do you know him? Or was he just some random?”

“Relax, Maki,” Panda says, waving her off. “He seemed harmless. Besides, Y/N can handle herself.”

Maki doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she shrugs. “Just saying. Keep your guard up. The last thing you need is more drama.”

Nobara groans, throwing her head back. “Ugh, Maki, can you not? We came here to have fun, not to play bodyguard.”

“Fun doesn’t mean letting your guard down,” Maki shoots back, but she softens when she looks at you. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” you assure her, forcing a small smile. “Promise.”

She doesnt look entirely convinced but she doesn’t push further. Nobara and Panda launch into a retelling of something that happened on the dance floor, their laughter loud and contagious. Maki listens quietly, staying close, and you can’t help but glance toward the crowd, where Choso vanished. The gum wrapper burns like a heavy choice in your pocket, one you’re not sure what to do with yet.

Then, your gaze drifts past the dance floor—and you freeze. Across the room, on the opposite side of the club, is Megumi. He’s lounging in a booth, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his sharp features lit intermittently by the flashing lights. Your stomach knots when his eyes meet yours.

For a moment, neither of you look away. It’s like the crowd dissolves, leaving just the two of you locked in a silent battle. Then, he sneers. Rolls his eyes. And turns his head like you’re nothing worth his attention.

Your chest tightens, anger bubbling under your skin. Nobara catches the shift in your expression before you even fully realize it yourself. “Don’t,” she warns, her tone sharp.

“Don’t what?” you ask, voice pitched with mock innocence as you set your drink down a little too hard.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing,” Maki adds, her eyes narrowing down at you. 

But it’s too late. The alcohol has dulled your senses, and all you can think about is the smug look Megumi gave you from across the room. His sneer felt like a slap, dragging all the bitterness and unresolved anger that you oh so desperately tried to gulp down back to the surface. You slide off the barstool, ignoring Nobara’s exasperated “Seriously?”

Your steps are unsteady as you weave through the crowd, the world tilting slightly around you. When you finally reach his booth, His group—Yuji, Toge, and Yuta—are deep in conversation, but Megumi’s attention is elsewhere, following your approach with a guarded glare.

When you finally reach him, the conversation at the table halts. His eyes lock onto yours, his expression hardening into something cold and unreadable.

“You look lost,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he leans back in his seat.

“Funny,” you shoot back, your words slurring just slightly, “I was just thinking the same about you.”

His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t respond.

“What do you want, Megumi?” you press, planting your hands on the edge of the table for balance.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he counters, his voice low, almost drowned by the heavy bassline. “You’re the one standing here.”

You’re about to snap back when his next words cut through the haze like a knife. “Get tired of your new boy toy already? You seemed real cozy chatting him up at the bar.”

The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard, but there’s something underneath it—something that makes your chest tighten.

“Why do you care?” you challenge, your voice cutting through the basting music.

“I don’t,” he says, too quickly, the tightness in his jaw betraying him.

You scoff, your fingers curling against the edge of the table. “Right. That’s why you’ve been glaring at me like I stole something from you all night.”

He doesn’t answer, but his silence is enough to stoke the fire burning in your chest.

“Are you drunk?” he asks suddenly, his tone flat but his gaze sharp, scanning your expression like he’s looking for cracks.

You laugh, the sound sharp and bitter. “What’s it to you? Worried I might embarrass myself?” You take a step closer, and he mirrors it, the air between you charged and suffocating.

“Embarrassing yourself isn’t the issue,” he mutters, his voice low enough that only you can hear it. “I just don’t want you causing a scene.”

“Bet you know all about that, huh?” you snap, your words laced with venom.

His brows knit together, his expression hardening. “The hell are you getting at?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, debating whether to let it go or let it out. The alcohol tips the scales. “You’ve got some nerve, acting like you’re above it all when you were the one who walked away. No explanation, no call, no—nothing. And now, what? You’re playing the concerned ex?”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might actually explain himself. Instead, he leans in, his voice barely audible over the music. “You think I owe you something? You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

Your heart clenches, his words slicing deeper than you want to admit. “I guess not,” you say, stepping back, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. “Because you never gave me the chance to understand.”

His jaw tightens. “You think you’re better than me?”

“Don’t have to think if I already know,” you snap, your voice rising. 

The tension between you feels like a live wire, buzzing with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The people at the booth are frozen, caught between intervening and letting it play out, but you’re too far gone to care.

“You think you’re perfect, don’t you?” he says, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Always acting like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“And you think running away from everything makes you better?” you fire back, stepping closer. “At least I don’t leave people wondering what they did wrong!”

His eyes flash, and for a moment, you think you might’ve hit a nerve. “You don’t know anything about why I—”

“Because you won’t tell me!” you yell, your voice breaking. “You just leave, Megumi! You don’t explain, you don’t answer, you just—vanished. How do you think that made me feel huh? Leaving me wrecked like I was the problem.” A few heads turn in your direction as your voice rises ultimately they ignore whatever seems to be happening to focus on their own conversions.

He flinches, his stoic mask cracking for a split second before he schools his expression again. “You think everything’s about you, don’t you? You’re so obsessed with being perfect that you don’t see anything else.”

The words sting, but they only fuel the fire in your chest. “And you’re so obsessed with pushing people away that you don’t even know how to let someone care about you!”

Before you know it, you’re shoving him—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make a point. The movement causes a ripple of murmurs from the nearby tables. He doesn’t move, doesn’t retaliate, just stands there with his jaw clenched and his fists balled at his sides.

“Say something!” you demand, your voice trembling. “Yell at me, fight back, do something for once instead of just shutting me out!”

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his silence louder than any argument. The tears you’ve been holding back start to spill over, your chest heaving as the emotions crash over you like a tidal wave.

“Damn it, Megumi!” you cry, hitting his chest with your fists. “Why couldn’t you just talk to me? Why couldn’t you just stay?”

He catches your wrists gently, his grip firm but not forceful. “Y/N, stop,” he says, his voice quieter now, but still laced with tension. “I’m not going to fight you.”

“Of course you’re not,” you choke out, your voice thick with tears. “You never fight for anything”

“Alright, enough,” Maki’s voice cuts through before Megumi can respond. She strides toward you, her expression unreadable. “Let’s go. Now.”

Nobara is right behind her, her tone softer but no less urgent. “Come on, Y/N. You don’t need this.”

Panda steps up on your other side, his presence solid and steady. “Let’s get out of here. You’re gonna feel better once we’re outside.”

“Fine,” you mutter, your voice cracking as you let Maki guide you away. Nobara slips her arm around your waist for support, and Panda moves in front of you, clearing the way through the crowd.

The cool night air greets you, but it does little to soothe the whirlwind inside. Maki doesn’t let go of your shoulder until you’re a block away from the bar.

“You okay?” she asks, her tone even but her eyes full of concern.

You shake your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I just… I need a minute.”

Nobara exchanges a worried glance with Panda before nodding. “Just… don’t wander too far, alright?”

You manage a small nod before stepping away from them, your feet carrying you without direction. The city blurs around you, neon lights smearing like watercolors through your tears.

Somehow, you end up walking aimlessly, the crisp night air cooling your cheeks as you try to piece together the complicated feelings in your chest.

pit stop!

officially calling the break rooms pit stops from now on to fit the theme

sorry for the strange posting schedule this month, I had finals but now that they're over we're back on our regular schedule

a hot new bombshell has entered the villa! welcome choso

tension was thick this chapter (sorry I love angst)

my dialogue still sucks but we can look past that

yuji and toge slept peacefully INSIDE of the house that night

well, as peacefully as one could with Mac Demarco and Mitski blasting through the houses' speaker system

just imagine that one blue-haired guy listening to music clutching himself (please get the reference); that's y/n listening to marvins room

chapter 4 MIGHT be out tmr... it's kinda long and purely text so it might take a while, we'll see.

taglist!

@s6rine @sweettenderheart @sh0ot1ngst4r @bertqut1 @favbisexualh0e @fushiguruuzzzz @harryzcherry @lightshowerrr @jasminasblog22 @gumims @yeehawnana @starrysho @1l-ynn @dovellici @moowrites @lauuriiiz @cupidsblonde @zayuriluvs @seeingivy @good-mourning0 @tlissablr @gigiiiiislife @iayanam

if your tag isn't working, please fix your setting or you will be removed!

always looking for more twt users!

[calitears]

When You Sleep- (Megumi x reader)

“when i look at you oh, but i don’t know what’s real”

she’s a fashion student and social media icon. him and his friends are skateboarding sensations on youtube. after the two run into each other one day on campus he becomes an annoying thorn in her side…

main masterlist

tags/warnings: megumi is a skateboarder, college au, smoking, drinking, cussing, kys jokes, smau, suggestive jokes, enemies to lovers, reader hates megumi’s guts at first, angst, arguments, blood/cuts/bruises, etc

taglist: open

introductions: the girls and the gays | skate bros

megumi’s playlist | yn’s playlist

chapter one: drama queen

chapter two: alcohol deprivation

chapter three: party loading…

chapter four: BRAT

chapter five:

[calitears]

MYSTERIOUS KISSES AT MIDNIGHT

about: when a midnight kiss from a stranger sparks curiosity and longing, Y/N finds herself drawn into an unexpected connection with gojo satoru—a man who’s as stupid as he is charming.

“it only takes a moment at midnight to change everything.”

starring gojo satoru x reader.

content: drinking, going to bars, smoking, kys jokes, slight angst?, arguments, gojos a bitch but not really :p, profanity, smau+written

status: ongoing

ask/comment to be added to the taglist!!

INTROS

-> we love WOMEN💜

-> white hair guy and friends

-> moodboard

chapters (💋indicates written chapter!!!)

prologue 💋

1. romantic or tragic?

2. a drink and a mystery💋

3. who are YOU

4. coffee girl💋

5. dior sauvage

6. clock it

7. tbd

8. tbd

9. tbd

don’t copy or i will hunt you down.

[calitears]

SHUT UP AND DRIVE: —TOKYO DRIFT EDITION .ᐟ

street racer!megumi x street racer!reader smau

Synopsis: rumor has it that Jujutsu racers Megumi Fushiguro and Y/n L/n have broken up, which is why they have been missing from the racing scene recently. [click to see more...]

you and megumi have been dating since high school. when your recent breakup hit the internet, it caused Jujutsu race fans to divide. But what happens when the final season is coming to a close and it's time to start picking racers to participate in the 24 hours of le mans? only two from each sector to go, and you and megumi are the best of your teams...

status: ongoing -> bi-monthly updates!

cws: modern au, aged up character, rivals to lovers, exes to lovers, suggestive content, drinking, clubbing, illegal racing, fighting (the girls get handsy), slight itafushi (I can’t help myself), mentions of other shows/characters, rich parents, ooc, tba… check chapters for tag updates, do I know how street racing works? not at all! but my friends obsessed and google is free so who cares!

this is a mixed/blended smau, where most of it is writing and I add texts/tweets for in-between context

Format credits to the lovely @/chososcamgirl

taglist: open link!

choose your character:

official playlist || y/n's lifestyle guide || megumi's lifestyle guide

introductions: pink pony club! || sassy man apocalypse

FIRST LAP 🚩

I. gear up 🚦

II. ignition 🚦

III. blame it on the alcohol🚦|| 3.5. drunk walk home

IV. so highschool🚦

V. tba…

SECOND LAP 🚩

VI. tba…

VII. tba…

VIII. tba…

IX. tba…

X. tba…

@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate or plagiarise my works

[calitears]

𐙚 be my angel

“they say it's me, that makes you do things you might not have done”

megumi x reader • birthday fic

word count: 1,141

Unboxing the small cake from the cardboard box that had held it, you carefully slid it out, turning it by the edges of plate. You smiled at the final result of the order you had placed last week, dark chocolate cake with the least sweet option of frosting the bakery offered, the baker really out did themselves. The next step was to unbox the candles, the white 2’s with a dark blue outline, and carefully placing them on the cake, making sure the words ‘happy birthday megumi’ spelt in navy blue jelly didn’t get messed up.

Today was your boyfriend’s 22nd birthday, and coincidentally just so happened to be your first year anniversary. It was hard to believe an entire year had already passed by since the night you accidentally confessed to him at the ‘surprise’ birthday party Yuji had thrown for him.

That night Megumi had already known about his best friend’s scheme, and it honestly crossed his mind to avoid it. But at the end of the day, it was you who convinced him to attend. It was always you to drag him along anywhere and everywhere.

When you first met him, could compare Megumi to the personification of melancholy. You know your love hasn’t had an easy life, which you assumed is why you almost always saw him thinking off into space, refreshing his mind of happy memories, yet what seemed to be a sad longing. That was just the way he was. You would learn he didn’t find joy or interest in much materialistic things, instead he’d seek comfort and reassurance in actions and words. And slowly, you introduced him to the idea of touch as a love language.

Experiencing something new and so nice in the present, maybe helped him move forward from the past.

People often considered you the most affectionate in the relationship, you’d hear teasing comments come from his friends, Yuji or Nobara, about how it was always you to initiate anything between you guys. It was always you who forced him to be included. The thought that maybe you loved him more than he did you had crossed your mind before.

But you knew that wasn’t true. Because Megumi Fushiguro wasn’t the type to love empty. He would do acts of service, he would repay people he felt he owed, even when he didn’t. In his mind, if someone was injured or hurt due to something he could’ve prevented, even when he had no responsibility too, he owed them.

Yet one thing he’d never do, is give his heart as a form of payment. And so you thanked whatever religion out there for the ability to be able to love a man that loved you harder. Because there was no one else he would spend hours into the night talking to, there was no one else he’d surrender his body too, no one else that he would put aside his own opinions for and buy whatever material thing you wanted, no one else he’d turn his casual acts of service into romantic gestures for, and no one else he whispered ‘i love you’ to while drifting off to sleep.

And yet knowing this you always feared he’d leave you, not for another woman, but for the dark reality that existed outside of your relationship. The thoughts that plagued his mind if you let him sink that far deep into his own head. But you swore exactly one year ago, when he had for the first time in his life spilled his heart out to someone, to you, when you both had wandered away from the party, that you wouldn’t ever let him drown. You wouldn’t let him be lonely, and so that’s why you try so hard to include him, to fit him in.

You placed the gifts you had gotten your boyfriend next to the cake on the table. A wrapped vinyl he had been eyeing every time you wandered past the record shop, a bag of books you knew had been on his reading list for ages that he himself probably forgot about, and a pendant you had carefully chosen out for him, the main reason being the stone matched his eyes almost perfectly.

Just as you stepped back you heard the front door of your apartment open, signalling your boyfriend’s arrival. After choosing to celebrate your anniversary earlier in the day, you planned him to come over at the end to celebrate his birthday. Making whatever excuse to have a buffer of time between to be able to pick up his cake, and bring out his gifts.

Megumi was surprised at the sight of the set up, his heart skipping a beat at just the idea of you taking a moment to appreciate him. He was almost startled when you moved next to him and held onto his arm.

“happy birthday ‘gumi….”

Megumi looked at you, his eyes meeting yours and his lips twitching into the small smile you had grown to recognize.

“…thank you.”

You smiled back at him, tugging his arm and pulling him over to the table, sitting him down in the chair in front of the cake. Megumi letting out a short amused huff watched as you picked the lighter off the table, and quickly lit the ‘22’ candles placed on top of it.

“…make a wish!”

The smile was still spread across his lips, before he blew gently, mainly to amuse you. You ruffled his hair in response, before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and placing your chin on the top of his head.

“what’d you wish for?”

“can’t say.”

You huffed playfully, placing a small kiss on the top of his head, “Why?”

Megumi wasn’t superstitious, in fact he didn’t really have any sort of beliefs like that at all, but even then he would admit that he wouldn’t risk anything to have his wish not come true. Because he couldn’t handle if you loving him forever didn’t become a reality.

“‘cause then it won’t come true…”

You laughed, before reaching out to the cake and scooping frosting on your finger only to smudge it on his face. He huffed and pouted, only to immediately return the favor, turning around and smudging frosting acrossing you cheek.

Both letting out a quiet laugh as you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down, scooping up frosting on your finger again, but this time smudging it on his lips, only to lean in and clean them through a kiss.

The taste of Megumi and the slight sweetness of the frosting was intoxicating, and when he pulled back first, gently cupping your face, the glint in his eyes made you understand he was more than happy.

“happy birthday angel,” you whispered, wiping the leftover frosting off the tip of his nose.

[calitears]

˚₊‧꒰ა 𝖋2𝖚 rentry frames of mine ! 🕸️

made these on the plane 🪽

all graphics are made by @thefallennyxe and are free to use as long as a reblog and like is shown.!

[calitears]

₊ ⊹.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒍𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒇 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

credits to me. feel free to use and save. of course credit would be appreciated but it is not required. I’m just making these for fun <3 p.s. I did not make the sparkle gif itself, just changed the color of it. I have a couple other colors but didn’t include them, I have them in my drafts tho in unfinished story layouts and what not.

[calitears]

𑁤 Cherry Waves

Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Words — 2.3k

Cw — rockstar au, yes the title is a Deftones reference, mentions of alcohol (no use this time! Yay!), written in one sitting, not proofread, sort of situationship to lovers????? I’m not even entirely sure that’s a secret between them ig, chappel roan reference, lmk if there’s anything I missed !! All you long for is Megumi Fushiguro to love you when he’s sober. All he longs for is to have the courage to show you he does. These two dreams tend to clash when paired with insecurities and desperate secrecy, and the question is: will you be able to work it out?

a/n — this was fun to write tbh, I love rockstar Megumi baddddd and just wanted to get something out for him I fear. This won the poll so Gojo fic out some other time, in the meantime I’ll probably post Kilby girl prologue :3

Being famous had its perks, but with them came many downsides. One that you would consider the most pesky was the lack of privacy. Every secret you kept so precisely hidden was uncovered somehow, sometimes ones you weren’t even aware of yourself. Sometimes it was an old video of you found in the darkest depths of the internet, sometimes it was a song you hadn’t released yet. In your case, it was… whatever you had going on with your bandmate. Honestly you weren’t sure what exactly it was, neither was Megumi. But there was something, far too many glances that lasted just a beat too long, the graze of your fingers as you passed him his guitar that seemed to set you alight. The drunken kisses you’d share in the back of a crowded club that you were both eager to leave, the ones you wouldn’t talk about when the morning came. You’d share glances over the breakfast table that grew less awkward and more knowing as your rituals continued, the weeks going by and your dynamic never changing.

Sometimes months would go by without those moments of solidarity when your desperation bubbled over and came out in bursts. He never dared to voice it, but it killed Megumi. He loathed the way your touch would be all consuming, and then just a few hours later he’d been imprisoned by the lack of label between you, your distance heart wrenching. You were everything, and then nothing. You came in waves, not steady like the rise and set of the sun, but like the tide, unpredictable and heavy and undeniably passionate. You despised it equally as much, but you had the self control to contain it. Until you were on stage and consumed by nothing but the music, the songs you wrote about him, that is.

Your fingers were nimble and quick as they strummed the guitar, your lips ghosting over the rough wire of the microphone with every lyric. The rhythm reverberated through you, your heart beating in sync with the unsteady beat of the drums. This was it. This was life. Life was impending hearing loss and callouses on your fingers, it was red lights and the screaming of a crowd and the lingering knowledge that who might be the love (or loss) of your life is just a few pages behind you. The energy emitting from your body picked up his own every instance without fail, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as soon as he walked into the room. Paranoia? Maybe. Soul ties? Also maybe. That secret wasn’t yours to know, as it seemed.

Everything felt blurry, your consciousness only ever going up to half capacity on nights like this. You figured that if you were fully present, you couldn’t handle it all. It was a defence mechanism you’d made for yourself to handle the constant attention, the haunting awareness that you were being constantly perceived. Every shift of your eyes as they wandered to your black haired bass player was recorded, forever on the wide world of the internet. So you had to be careful, tread lightly at all times. They were everywhere, it seemed. You never really got used to it. This was your job, though, you signed up for this. You knew that, so you put up with it. You just wished you could love in peace.

You panted, chest heaving as you took in gasps of warm air. Not all that refreshing, but oxygen nonetheless. The last instrumentals of the final song faded out, the only noise being the dull chattering of the crowd. You felt their eyes on you, but one stuck out far more than any others. Him. His emerald eyes in the dim light were piercing, having such a deep effect over you even when they were out of sight. You were suddenly all too aware of the sweat sticking to your forehead, and the faint aftertaste of coffee on your tongue. You’d chugged three cups beforehand, figuring you’d need it to get through the night. Maybe it should’ve been four.

“Thank you so much for coming out, folks! That’s all for tonight!” you said, putting on an overly cheery tone that you were sure reeked of bullshit. With that the crowd began filtering out, the rows becoming gradually more empty with every passing minute. You, Megumi, and the others fell into the same old routine of packing up your instruments and getting ready to head out.

When the equipment was away and you were officially free to go for the night, Nobara spoke up. “Anyone in the mood to get drunk off of shitty overpriced vodka and hope we don’t get cancelled?”

As you walked to your respective vehicle, you couldn’t help but laugh. Your eyes flickered to Megumi for but a brief moment, but long enough for him to catch it. Something lied in the air between you then, the acceptance of what would happen the moment the alcohol took its toll and you were left alone. But as you met the sight of his raw eyes shining with what almost looked like expectation, something shifted. You didn’t want to be something that he only loved when he was drunk, you didn’t want to be the girl that was always just there when he needed you. The smile slowly faded from your face, being replaced by something softer; something more fake.

“I’m spent, I’m not gonna join tonight. Call me, yeah?” you asked, giving a small nod to the group as you lowered yourself into your drivers seat. Megumi’s eyes followed you inch by inch, taking in every subtle shift of your face, the soft crease between your brows as you put the keys into the ignition and made an eager escape. You were doing this on purpose, you were avoiding him. Why? Was he not enough, was he too much? Was this the end of whatever sick dance of passion and indifference that you were playing? But Megumi wasn’t stupid, in fact, he was an academically gifted boy. He knew that if he loved you when he was sober, you’d be willing to get drunk. It made something in his chest clench unfamiliarly, and he hated it. Hated the way you made him feel, hated the way he made you feel. He just… hated.

He hated the way the sound of your engine faded as you drive further and further from him, because it felt like you were leaving him in more ways than one.

Your fingers strummed impatiently against the steering wheel, though you weren’t sure what you were waiting for. You had nothing to wait for, no one. Maybe you were waiting for the moment your screen would light up with Megumi’s name, that he’d magically overcome whatever emotional blockage that was keeping him from you and learn to love you properly. You shook your head. Be realistic, now. It’s Megumi.

Pulling into the darkened parking lot of your apartment building felt like the nail in the coffin, the break in the inconsistent pattern you’d been following for so long. And as you stepped into your apartment, the falls felt oddly empty. It was missing something that had never been there in the first place, something that seemed to fit so perfectly, yet you didn’t. Maybe that was the case. Megumi fit into your life, he fit whatever love you held for him, but did you fit him? Maybe not.

You felt exhausted, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. You tossed and turned uncomfortably in your sheets for what felt like hours before sighing in defeat and trotting out to your kitchen.

As you sat on your counter, tentatively sipping an icy cup of water, your mind wandered. You wondered what type of lover Megumi was. When the lights were soft, would his touch be, too? Would the scrambled urgency of his lips against yours turn into something calmer when he knew you had the time? His rough hands calloused by his passion, would they hold you as delicately as they cupped your face in his moments of weakness, as you escaped from the crushing reality of your status? Your heart ached at the realization that you didn’t know, and you weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance to. Maybe someone else would, someone that fit.

A firm knock on your door pierced through the walls more than it should have. There was an empty sort of quiet that followed, as if the person waiting to enter didn’t have the courage to fill it. You slid from the cold marble, socked feet hitting the ground as you placed your glass next to you. There was barely the sound of shuffling as you padded to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole in your sleepy haze.

When you swung the door open, he looked nearly as shocked as you did. Of course Megumi had been the one to come here in the first place, but he half expected you to be asleep or just ignore him entirely.

“Megumi?”

He blinked at you for a moment, eyes unfocused. “…hey,” he said, voice hoarse as if he was the one who’d spent the night singing.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out?” you asked, standing dumbfounded in the doorway.

He paused. “You didn’t go.”

That statement meant a lot more than its words. You didn’t go, so he didn’t. He wanted to see you, to be with you.

“Can I come in?”

You looked between you, suddenly remembering that he was standing outside in the hallway whilst you were keeping him there. You shuffled to the side, motioning for him to enter. He did, no words shared in the silent moment. You fell into step, taking the few strides across the apartment and plopping down on the plush cushions of your couch.

You stared down at your fidgeting hands, debating whether you’d break the silence or not. He was the one who showed up here, so shouldn’t it have been him? But deep down you knew Megumi, he wasn’t one to speak unless spoken to. Not usually.

“What are you doing here?” you asked again, voice softer. He lifted his head, the black spikes of hair shifting with every movement. He looked particularly disheveled, like he’d spent his night tossing and turning as you had. “You and I both know why I’m here.”

With a soft exhale through your nose, you nodded. The thing was, you didn’t know the exact reason for his appearance. Was it to put an end to whatever you had, or the opposite? Because whether you liked it or not, it wasn’t casual. You didn’t know if they ever had been.

“What am I doing wrong?” you blurted. Your eyes widened, surprised by your own words. Damn your mouth and its tendency to act before your brain could, because it put you in situations like this.

His expression mirrored yours, confusion and something else, something more unrecognizable. “What?” he said, throat suddenly dry. “I never said you did anything wrong. You… you didn’t.”

That only puzzled you further. If you’d done nothing wrong, what was it that kept him from you? Perhaps your actions weren’t wrong, just you were. “I don’t understand,” you whispered, unable to find the correct words.

“Why would you think you’re doing something wrong?” he pushed.

“Because you don’t like me.”

A silence fell over you, and Megumi felt more flustered than he had in his life. “I’ve given you some pretty clear implications denying that,” he murmured.

“But you don’t like me when you’re sober, Megumi.”

A heavy silence fell over you, swirling with unspoken words and the quiet desperation for closure. You just needed him to confirm it, you couldn’t spend any longer clinging to the last bits of drunken hope residing in you.

“I’m sober now.”

“Yeah, well-“ you were about to shoot back, but then he was tilting your chin up and pressing his lips to yours. Your lips were captured in his as he inhaled every bit of you, the taste of your lips overtaking his senses. Cherry. He swallowed every claim and rebuttal rolling off of your tongue, rough hands cupping your face as he kissed you with a mission to prove himself. Megumi had never been one for words, opting to show his intentions through action. He sure got his point across.

He panted into your mouth, brow bone ghosting over yours as his eyes drank you in, deep and curious. Not an ounce of alcohol swirled in his bloodstream, but he felt completely drunk off of you. Maybe he couldn’t ever love you when he was sober, for your every breath intoxicated him, drew him in.

Your mind was spinning, wondering if you were in the midst of a fever dream. Megumi tasted of nothing but espresso and mint, no traces of vodka bleeding into your mouth as it interlocked his. He was completely present, and he was kissing you. He held you with a delicacy you weren’t aware he was capable of, hands that were once in tense fists now cradling you like fine china.

“Are you saying…” you breathed.

“Yeah. Now shut up, will you?”

You huffed, but it did little to hide the eagerness in your actions as you took him by the collar and pulled him in once again.

As you felt his lips on yours, you realized that they were perfect; like puzzle pieces reunited. The thing about puzzle pieces is that it was never one fitting in the other, it was that they fit together, reciprocated. They were two parts of a whole, equal, mutually connected. Megumi filled the empty walls of your home, and you filled his heart, and that felt pretty damn equal to you.

Tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniya @anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @lizbix

[calitears]

sessions

I. 2014 insta

story masterlist

tw/notes: cussing, alcohol and vaping mentioned for like a sec, fat jokes, death jokes, yuji and megumi twitter argument for like 2 seconds

outside the studio…

hey guys first chapter first ever smau series who’s excited

very small story building but trust we’ll get there (he’s insignificant to y/n now but just you wait…)

MFushiguro… play on his initials… it’s the best i could do

megumi was fine with staying with yuji since there was an extra room and they allowed it but he can’t take living in that damn house anymore now he’s moving out

megumi’s only fear is getting severely bullied on the internet, he doesn’t think he was hot emo boy more cringe 21 pilots mcr phase emo

taglist (open)

@starrysho @anotherwriternamedclara @qtnfer @ist0leurc0ffee @missunrise @lovefromberry

*feel free to ask in inbox, comment, or pm if you’d like to be added!!

[calitears]

murda she WOKE 💜

megumi fushiguro! god bless gojo, or maybe not… because now this boy doesn’t even blink at hearing a t-shirt being priced $50+… anyway, despite his lack of engagement in the media, he’s recently been gaining popularity through his music, well at least he’s a talented nepo baby!

nobara kugisaki! been by yuji’s and megumi’s side since highschool, she’s a lowkey influencer (& will forever refuse to acknowledge it started due to being featured on yuji’s lives) though at least it pays for cosmetology school!

yuji itadori! streams for fun on the side, megumi’s best friend, and somehow ended up in a frat, was happy to let his best friend live with him in a spare room since it wasn’t against the rules until megumi got tired of him now megumi’s moving out, he’ll miss his dogs most of all… side note y/n may be a big fan

extras…

[calitears]

re-VAMPed emos

y/n l/n! pretty well known in the local scene, graduated with an associates only to never use it, but it brought her maki so who’s complaining?? has been totally stoked recently because she got to meet yuji through toge and they’ve been abusing instagram live the past week

maki zenin! family relation to megumi… somehow… neither of them really know. met y/n in an english lecture and knew they’d get along the minute they both sighed after the professor criticized jenny from forest gump

yuta okkotsu! is he dating maki? who knows… studying music production at the same college as megumi… accidentally sat next to him during the first week and now can’t move away from him, rooms with panda and toge and once let two stray cats in on “accident” (they never left)

panda yaga! known half the gang since highschool, still goes to school with maki, oh baby they’re getting this bachelor, recently stole 1000 wishes from y/n and now is considering rebranding to the 2014 LA baddie aesthetic

toge inumaki! streamer, recently started streaming with yuji and he believes his attempt to manifest fame from middle school finally worked (the collabs just brought each more followers) y/n brings him along at any party she goes to! he’s like walking affirmation!!

[calitears]

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3:18━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━3:56

[calitears]

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2:18━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━2:38

[calitears]

sessions

“the dj hit me right there, you said he loved me right there” -pinkpantheress

megumi fushiguro x fem!reader • SMAU • ongoing

SUMMARY: she’s an underground dj, producer, and singer, triple kill! what a niche pop princess!

he works boring shifts at your local best buy, with an undercover nepo baby background while studying music production at the nearby college

maybe teaming up to help him create his end of course project wouldn’t be the worst idea… professor said ‘help’ was allowed…

warnings/notes: modern au, all characters are aged up, probably ooc in some parts, lowkey inspired by that one victorious episode where andre thinks he has a crush on jade after they make a song together, contains cursing, drinking/smoking, implied sexual themes, fluff and angst, some offensive jokes, maybe possible *hint hint* love triangle??? chapter names may change, tw for each chapter will be mentioned too!!

ᯓ★ duo’s inspo playlist

ᯓ★ dj’s inspo & moodboard

ᯓ★ megumi’s playlist & moodboard

ᯓ★ …and main character groups?

re-VAMPed emos • murda she WOKE

CHAPTER INDEX

(updates every friday est)

I. 2014 insta

2. turn it up!

3. best buy boy

4. don't sleep just do it on repeat!

5. never get invited 'cause i'm such a hater...

6. boyfriend's favorite dj!

7. jealous girl

8. don't f*ck with me!

9. i'm the girl next door, let me come in

...& more to come!

taglist (open)

[calitears]

I absolutely LOVEEE ur smaus and the way you characterize them 💕 also I’m so glad to see more yuuta content he’s litrally my fav LOLOL

HIIII thank you so much babes!!!

this is so sweet 🩵 happy you like them, def will keep up the yuuta content honestly i love writing for him 😇

[calitears]

Like & Reblog to use.

Credit is appreciated but not required!Requested by @phone4pills

[calitears]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER TWENTY: love me anyway

masterlist

The sheets beneath her stir as the first light of day seeps through the thin, worn curtains, casting an almost mournful glow across the room. The sun’s touch is gentle, but it’s a reminder of another morning, another routine she knows all too well.

This feels familiar. Too familiar.

She has lived this moment countless times—each one an echo of the last, a rhythm of anticipation and careful avoidance. She knows the weight of the silence, the delicate pause before she turns over. 

And when she does, she meets his eyes.

Those green eyes. 

They’re always the same. The way they linger on her, taking in every curve, every freckle, every scar that marks her—his gaze tracing the map of her body like it’s something sacred, something precious. She feels bare, exposed, but there’s a strange comfort in it, a quiet surrender. 

His hand, gentle, almost reverent, reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture is simple, yet it shakes her in a way she can’t quite explain. Her breath catches as if bracing for something she’s not quite ready to face, as if she knows, deep down, that whatever happens next will hurt. 

"Morning," he whispers, his voice thick with the weight of unspoken things.

She smiles, but it’s not the smile of someone who’s truly at peace. It’s the smile of someone who knows the cost of each word, of every touch.

“Morning.”

The sheets are pulled tighter against her bare skin, the softness a fragile comfort in the quiet, uncertain space between them.

For a fleeting moment, the room softens, bathed in the muted orange light of early morning. The world outside fades away—the ticking clock, the distant hum of life beyond the walls—all of it dissolves, leaving only them. Two people in one bed. Not quite lovers. Not quite strangers. Something undefined. Something fragile and yet impossibly real.

“I want to be with you, Yn,” his words break the stillness, and though they’re spoken with the sincerity of someone who has nothing left to hide, they land heavy between them.

The light in the room seems to dim, as if the weight of his confession has cast a shadow over everything. The ticking of the clock grows louder, more intrusive, and she feels the rhythm of time moving against her, as if reminding her that this moment—like all the others—will soon pass.

“I’m just… not ready, Megs,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart heavy with the truth of the words. She can feel the sting of them as they leave her mouth—words she never wanted to speak, yet always knew she would. 

He winces, like her words are a wound. The nickname hangs in the air between them, a reminder of all the things they’ve never said. It’s a name that feels too close to something they both fear. 

“We can take it slow,” he says, his voice almost desperate now, like a plea disguised as an offer. 

She doesn’t respond immediately. She opens her mouth, but the words don’t come. Her mind is spinning, caught between what she wants and what she knows she can’t have. Before she can find the clarity, she needs, the bedroom door swings open, and the familiar sound of footsteps interrupts the fragile moment.

“Woahhhh, clothes, please,” Nobara’s voice rings out, laced with her usual irreverence, as she strides into the room, her eyes already covering her face in mock horror as she heads straight for the closet.

“Nobara, it’s literally my room,” Yn mutters, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“Okay, damn, whatever happened to being civil,” Nobara replies, as if she couldn’t care less, already rummaging through the clothes in the closet.

Yn sighs, shaking her head, and despite herself, a reluctant smile plays at the corner of her lips. The moment between her and him slips away, as it always does, swallowed up by the noise, the chaos, the distractions of life. And in that silence, she’s left wondering if the real truth is the one she’s always too afraid to face.

"Oh breakfast is ready by the way," she says, as she finishes up with whatever she was fishing out the closet. She pauses for a moment and lets out a sigh, her eyes flicking toward the door. "I’m just... relieved you two worked it out. I can’t stand the thought of her going back to Sukuna again." She shoots them a smile before she shuts it behind her with a firm, deliberate click.

A thick, suffocating tension settles over the room, hanging in the air like smoke. The weight of unspoken words presses down on both of them, and suddenly, that familiar, uneasy feeling claws its way back—not just in her stomach this time, but in his as well. It coils in their chests, binding them together in an uncomfortable silence.

“What does she mean, again?” His voice is distant, almost hollow, as he stares at her. There’s a blankness in his eyes, but she can see the storm brewing beneath the surface.

She pauses, the words swirling in her mind, but they refuse to form. 

“You slept with your ex?” The question falls from his lips with an unsettling calmness, as though he’s already resigned to the pain it causes.

“...Well... yeah,” she admits, her fingers instinctively scratching the back of her neck. It’s a nervous gesture, one she wishes she could take back, but it’s too late now.

“We were never exactly... together,” she tries to explain, as if offering that detail might somehow make it less of a betrayal. 

But he doesn’t seem to care about the details. His face hardens, eyes narrowing as the words sink in. “But what happens when we are?” he demands, his voice tight with something between anger and hurt.

"What happens when it’s real?"

Her throat tightens, her heart pounding in her chest. She doesn’t have an answer. She’s never had an answer. 

He doesn’t wait for her to speak. The words come fast, like an accusation she’s too afraid to answer. “Are you gonna go back to him every time we argue?”

The question hits her like a blow, the weight of it settling deep in her bones. 

It hurts.

She’s always prided herself on being tough, on keeping the hard things from breaking her. But this—his voice, sharp and cold—cuts deeper than she’s ready for. It finds the cracks in her walls and tears them open. For the first time, she feels exposed. Vulnerable. And it makes her want to run, to flee from this moment before it can consume her.

She swallows, trying to steady herself. “And what about you?” she counters, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. “What are you gonna do? Humiliate me in front of all your thousands of fans? Air out all our business for everyone to see?” 

Her words come out harsh, a bitter retaliation, but they feel like the only defence she has left. She’s trying to protect herself, trying to lash out before he can wound her any further.

But as soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes how pointless it all is. In the heat of the moment, they’ve both become something they never wanted to be—two people fighting, two people unravelling. And the deeper they dig in their heels, the further apart they’ll fall. 

She doesn’t know if either of them has the strength to put it all back together.

“That’s not the point, Yn.” His voice is low, edged with frustration, as he stands up from the bed. His movements are deliberate, almost stiff, as he gathers his clothes from the floor. Every motion is a careful retreat, a silent act of distancing himself from the words they both know are about to tear them apart.

Yn watches him, her chest tightening, her patience wearing thin. “Oh, then tell me, Megumi. What’s the point?” Her tone is laced with venom now, each word dripping with sarcasm as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Go on, I’m waiting. Enlighten me.”

He stumbles slightly as he tries to pull his pants back on, his fingers trembling just enough to betray the calm exterior he’s trying to hold on to. When he finally turns to face her, his eyes are hard, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability beneath the anger—an ache he can’t mask.

“It’s the fact that you keep doing the same shit over and over again,” he says, his voice thick with frustration. He rubs his temples with his right hand, fingers digging into his skin as if trying to erase the pain building inside him. “It’s like I’m invisible until it’s convenient for you.”

Yn feels the sting of his words, but it’s not enough to make her back down. She’s already out of bed, a shirt hastily thrown over her, unsure if it’s her own or his. It doesn’t matter. She could be wearing nothing at all, and it wouldn’t change the suffocating weight of this conversation.

“Megumi, what the fuck are you even saying?” Her voice wavers between anger and hurt, each word a shard of glass she’s trying to throw back at him. “Last night, you said you’d wait forever if that’s what it took. And now? Now you’ve ‘slept on it,’ and suddenly you’ve had some sort of fucking epiphany? Everything’s changed?” She scoffs bitterly, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

He flinches, but he doesn’t back down. “No. What’s unbelievable is you thinking that leading me on is just some checkbox to tick off in your mind,” he says, his voice rough. “Like I’m some fucking game you can pick up and put down when it suits you.”

The accusation hangs in the air, thick with all the things they’ve both left unsaid. The silence between them pulses with tension, the weight of their words pulling them further apart. 

“Just because we do relationship things doesn’t mean we’re actually in a relationship, Megumi,” she snaps, her voice low but sharp, her hands clenched at her sides. The words feel empty as soon as they leave her mouth, but she forces herself to stand tall, even as her heart cracks.

He shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “And that’s your problem, Yn. You won’t let it be real. You won’t put a label on it because you’re scared. You’re terrified of what happens when it actually matters.”

She feels the sting of his words like a slap, but her pride won’t let her show it. “I’m scared?” She laughs bitterly, a hollow sound that rings out in the silence of the room. “Who’s the one practically begging for a relationship in my fucking bedroom right now?”

The moment stretches out, heavy and charged with everything they’ve both kept inside. For the first time, Megumi is silent. His mouth moves, but no words come. They stand there, across the bed from each other, like two people lost in a storm, too proud to admit they’re both drowning.

Then, finally, he sighs—a long, weary sound that seems to carry all the weight of last night. 

“If I told you I loved you right now,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “would you say the same?”

Yn’s heart stops for a beat, and for a moment, she can’t breathe. The question hangs in the air, as fragile and raw as anything either of them has ever said. Her chest tightens, and her throat constricts, but the words she needs to say—want to say—don’t come. She opens her mouth, but nothing escapes. The silence between them stretches, unbearable and all-encompassing.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he mutters, his eyes downcast as he collects the last of his things. The finality in his movements feels like a wall being built, the space between them suddenly too wide to bridge.

And then, without another word, he walks out. The sound of his footstep’s fades, leaving nothing behind but the echoes of a conversation that was never meant to be this way.

Yn stands in the quiet aftermath, her body frozen, her mind racing. The weight of his words lingers in the stillness, thick and suffocating. She wants to scream, wants to ask him to come back, to say it wasn’t real, that this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

But the room feels emptier now. And the silence between them feels like a wound that neither of them knows how to heal.

In the end, there are no answers. Only unanswered questions and heart breaking in ways she doesn’t know how to fix.

Make that two.

—

“Oh my god… so he actually put the condoms on the register right in front of you?” The blue-haired girl laughed, nearly tipping out of her chair from how hard she was giggling.

“Yeah… haha,” Yn replied, the laughter sounding forced, hollow in her ears. She hoped Miwa didn’t notice the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes, or how the pit in her stomach seemed to deepen with every passing second. The tension was unbearable. 

Miwa, still oblivious, laughed louder, her carefree amusement filling the space between them. She had no idea that Yn was carrying something far heavier than a simple awkward moment. That she hadn’t told her about the morning after. 

The words were still so vivid in Yn’s mind, like a photograph she couldn’t look away from:

“If I told you I love you, would you say the same?”

They kept playing on a loop, unbidden, repeating with an intensity that only seemed to grow with time. Each time they hit; it was like a small shard of glass piercing her heart all over again. 

The sound of Miwa’s laughter slowly faded as she caught her breath, the moment stretching long and tense. Yn could feel her pulse in her ears, the weight of her regret thickening the air around her.

The song she’d been playing on air was ending, and before Miwa could notice the change in her, Yn hit the controls in front of her, quickly unmuting the mic, almost mechanically.

“And that was Crush by Ethel Cain, up next is Love Me Anyway by Chappell Roan!” she announced, her voice smooth despite the storm brewing inside her.

The opening notes of the song filled the air, but the lyrics hit her harder than any sound could.

As the first notes of the new song filtered through the speakers, Yn could feel each word like an arrow lodged in her chest. The lyrics, so raw, so painfully accurate, seemed to speak to her very soul.

“Sometimes I forget, wasn’t always this way…”

“It’s hard to admit, I was the one to blame…”

She wanted to turn the song off, and shut it out, but she couldn’t. The truth was unbearable, but it was also undeniable. She knew what she’d done. She knew how much it had cost her. Megumi had loved her. Not in some fleeting, casual way, but in a way that she had never experienced before. He had been real with her. Vulnerable. And she had let him go. 

The weight of that mistake pressed on her like a physical force. Her chest tightened, the pain so raw, so real, it felt like she might choke on it. She could have fought for him. She could have tried harder. But instead, she’d walked away, choosing fear over something real.

The thought felt like a physical blow, one that stole her breath for a moment, leaving her feeling hollow and ashamed. She had let him slip through her fingers, let him walk away because she wasn’t brave enough to let herself love him the way he had loved her.

She hadn’t just lost him. She’d lost her chance at something that could have been everything. And now, all she could do was replay the moment, over and over, until it felt like she might break under the weight of it.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself, the word tasting bitter in her mouth. 

I fucked up. I fucked up so badly.

extras!

• megumi definitely has something undiagnosed about him….

• bpd??? autism?? ocd??? speculate your theories in the comments NOW

• oomf said 500 days of summer coded and i RAN with it

• the party girls def heard them from the kitchen and they were just silently staring at eachother while ynmegumi were arguing LMFAOOO

• when they heard yn’s door open they quickly became occupied with something else hashtag awkies

• megumi got back home mad as hell

• no he did not punch the walls.

• he instead turned on ribs in the fetal position on his bed and listened to it on loop for 3 hours (tzc☃️)

• yuji was on tiktok live and u could just hear it in the background very faintly

• yk i had forgetting about the whole maneater station until a certain oomf starting with r and ending in ee rhymes with pee commented about it.

• Thank You Ree💕💝💘💗💖💞

• i missed miwayn hours BAD

a/n: i don’t know which was worse. writing this or the after effects of consuming expired laxatives. maybe both… HAPPY SJAP WEEKEND! sorry it’s a bit later than usual but we ball. sunday AND monday posts coming still🙂‍↕️ im not bailing on you guys again. i’ve been drained af. and i think im getting sick again. and i have to be up in 4 hours. everyone comment hashtag grateful so i can wake up and not want to kill myself❤️

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