#And I do love the Megumi and Shoko scene! I do love it! But come on!!!

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 270 (spoilers)

Before I write my thoughts down, I have to confess that they've been tainted by a post I read I after reading the chapter. I decided to write the first part of my review as I had initially wanted to but the second part will discuss the things I read afterwards.

We start the chapter with a beautiful scene of a grave belonging to Tsumiki but my first thought was... what about Tsumiki's soul that had prevented Megumi from killing a girl?

If this is what Tsumiki's end and Megumi's final reaction to that would be, why did Gege bother including her soul as an active character into the story?

I also tried to find the raws to see what exactly was written on her grave. Only her surname? And was it also in English?

After that we get to Tengen and what happened to her and it was exactly here where my thoughts of this chapter went a big 🤨😵🧐🤬🤪

So Yuji just punched her out? And nothing more happened to her? The Culling Games are over? How did that happen? And through which remains would she stay stable? There was nothing left of Sukuna, at least nothing that had gone through Kenjaku's ritual. The only place she would be stable would still be inside Megumi. Her barriers are magically stable as well.

What a... neat ending to all those plot threads...

Then we come to Maki finding her past helpers and telling them that all the reincarnated sorcerers would be separated from their hosts by Yuji soon and...

That's against established canon. We already had the discussion that the souls of the host's can't be saved because they've been pushed down to complete darkness. Choso couldn't feel the soul of his host anymore and that was how the narrative absolved him from any wrongdoing because now he didn't have to give his body back for ethical reasons and he hadn't made an unethical deal to be reincarnated either.

Only Megumi was said to have a chance of being saved and no one else.

So now I'm here and scretching my head thinking... was Gege so desperate or time constipated to end the manga that he threw that point out? Or is sth else going on here...

We get Takaba back and he has a suspicious looking partner now, with whom he can do more comedy.

Now I don't think that's the real Kenjaku there. It's more likely that Takaba simply imposed that hairstyle on his new partner because he's missing his short time best friend.

For an actual Kenjaku comeback, he wouldn't have Geto's body anymore. Imo, Kenjaku did have spare bodies lying around he could've fled to at the last second though.

We get more loose ends being tied up and for Higuruma it's clemency. This is another point in the "everything turns out perfectly good for the good guys" part we have been bombarded with in this chapter.

I'm like, Gege, isn't this too much? Wasn't JJK darker than this? Even Shoko gave up her smokes. The military plot is just "we'll deal with them" and there's no mention of JJ societal instability with the clans falling apart.

Either he really wanted to wrap every loose end up... or

Gege forgets Megumi's scar on a pretty big panel and we get an anime love complication with one chapter remaining. It was funny though.

Then we come to the end where we're set up to believe that life of the first year trio will go on as it should've been without those major Shibuya/Shinjuku complications.

Just going on missions and living life like that.

Now, one could accept that kind of ending (why isn't that in chapter 271 though?) But it comes off as so... lackluster and mended with fire after big chunks of the plot were cut off.

After I had finished the chapter, I was the most disappointed at everything that had to do with Tengen and the CG. So Gege sets up that the sorcerer life will continue afterwards. Even without wanting a Part 2, just ending the CG and Tengen's story like that is... unnecessarily boring and wasted space for nearly everything that came before that.

But then I read @thepersonperson post on how the last 3 chapters of JJK could possibly have been an induced dream sequence this whole time.

Induced by Yuji through his ability of creating fake memories right before defeat/death. His own DE is an application of this and Sukuna's strangely similar ability of talking with freshly deceased people in a dreamscape.

When Yuji had first expanded his domain, I went on such a ramble at the time about these strange abilities of them both. What I said back then was that Yuji wasnt an active/aware participant of them but by now he had acquired Sukuna's CT and again a DE.

This could mean that his induced dream sequences could've evolved enough that he became aware of them instead of only pushing them into someone else. In other words:

Yuji is dreaming of his best happy ending.

And here truly experiences that but he can't tell until now that it's a dream. He might very well be lying on the ground now about to die.

The post I linked adds more details to this theory like inconsistent character placements and "mistakes" like Megumi's scar suddenly missing, which would be commonplace in a dream.

That last picture up there with the guy who's supposed to be cursed but it was actually his girlfriend who had her perception of reality altered as well as the name of this chapter, would be the final hints about the last few chapters having been another glitch in perception.

Now only one week is left then we'll get our final answers to JJK. If this dream theory is true, then Gege will establish himself as the biggest troll, either with a JJK 2 or with a tragic ending.

(And if this really comes true, then I don't think I'll manage to escape the spoilers)

But whatever might come and even though I'm meh about the end (as it's presented to us right now) I still love JJK and immensely enjoyed reading, watching and engaging with it 😄

[longagoitwastuesday]

While I loved that interaction, that is all we got about something that could be taken as two of the most important (alive) people in Gojo's life mentioning him, thinking of him with fondness, or coming anywhere close to mourning him.

Then we got two pages of resolution of whatever emotional turmoil these two have going on

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。so this is what it means to be in love | gojo satoru

wc: 8.9k

summary: gojo finds out what it really means to be in love. 

contains: f!reader in mind, friends to lovers (prev. slowburn), suggestive scenes, might be mature/mildly explicit? (i only mention ‘butt’ once though…), ‘being in love’ as a journey, almost like a falls in love first (you) vs. falls in love harder (gojo), they fight, they swear, character death/s mentioned, shibuya onwards spoilers, lots and lots and lots of love

a/n: this is better read after the other parts in the collection but can work as a stand alone too!, there’s a jump between this and tell me about love (show me how) so gojo would have developed a lot in the relationship since then! 

collection masterlist: conversations on love  +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave <- you are here + (extended scene) too good to be mine -> 3.5a. this feeling inside of me—

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!)

Gojo catches onto love slowly.

He takes the hand you leave open just for him, and closes the space between your palms, reducing infinity. 

Maybe he’s felt it all this time without knowing; after all, love looks a lot less profound as friends in your early 20’s. 

But being in it—being in love? That’s uncharted territory. 

Gojo’s been to a lot of places, has travelled back and forth from point-to-point endlessly. He’s survived battles, a war, near-death, and cursed spirits reincarnate; he’s got eyes—two bright blue and an extra four hidden, ones that see beyond human comprehension. Unearthing this simple truth shouldn’t shake him, shouldn’t even faze him. If anything, he should have seen it coming—

Except, he doesn’t. 

It sneaks up on him, bit by bit, until he finds that being in love means getting to experience you all over again, just differently.

.

.

.

It starts with the little things. 

Gojo has known you for so long (a decade and a few years more), but has only recently begun to notice everything: how your baby hairs stick out in the humidity of summer, the way you purse your lips in thought before finally deciding on a drink to order. You play with your fingernails subconsciously, out of habit, the soft taps on your nail beds an accompaniment of anxious conversations you’ve had since you were 23. 

He knows you always blink twice before focusing on him, and it’s a mystery whether this is a recent development or something he’s just never noticed, but if you’re trying to enchant him by the flutter of your eyelashes, he wants to let you know that it’s working—except, he knows that you aren’t, because you’re just like that: a daydream without even trying. 

These aren’t new things; he’s sure he’s probably encountered them all before, but lately they’ve evolved into cute things, and there’s no hiding the slight curve of his lips every time he spots them. 

.

The sun is beaming brighter this summer, the ocean a faraway blur from the beach towel you set up under the shade. Going to the beach is never your go-to when you think of an extremely hot afternoon, but Yuuji’s been eyeing a weekend getaway since sorcerer work’s lessened significantly. 

‘It’s a good effort,’ Gojo convinces you, ‘to get everyone together again.’

And it is—you see it now: Yuuji and Megumi preparing to fling Yuuta into the water while Nobara and Maki race along the shoreline. Toge stays close to Panda but he watches fondly, eyes crinkling every now and then, happy. 

When you blink, the image of them softens—a captured memory in the heat haze. 

The only older ones here are you and Gojo; Shoko’s always disliked the stickiness of sunblock on her skin, and Ijichi’s new position has made him constantly busy. Somewhere in the distance, you can maybe envision Nanami. He wouldn’t come if you or Gojo asked, but if it were Yuuji—

You rub at your eye, resting your chin on your hand as you will your tear ducts to please, don’t cry. 

Yuuji's been smiling a lot more lately, an observation you note from the way his ears are perked up every time you look his way. It’ll never be the same as it used to be but it’s relieving to know that he can exist living as himself now. Just Yuuji. 

You hug your knees tighter to your chest, wrapping your arms around it. Your place under the coconut tree provides ample enough shade but your back still burns from Gojo haphazardly slathering sunscreen on it after hearing an ice cream stand from miles away. 

The mind is a weird place to be at times like this—split into bittersweet reminiscing and telling yourself to just take this moment and breathe, to live in it. You think about Megumi, and how you hurt for him, always will, for all that he’s lost despite every attempt to avoid it.

You should have been there for Tsumiki, you could have been there for both of them. 

Your guilt never leaves you even on days that shine as vividly as this, but perhaps that’s the silver lining—that they’re still with you, always. You can carry pieces of them to these places, and scatter them to the wind, to the sand, to the sea, and maybe to the ice cream stand Gojo’s waiting in line of, surrounded entirely by kids. They all rise to half his size, but if you squint, you think the bounce in his step makes him blend right in. 

A chuckle escapes you. 

You could sort through your memories and land on one where he looks just like this—freakishly large limbs towering over a tiny, excited Tsumiki. Back then, an ice cream stop after school consisted of your pseudo-family of four, with Megumi on your hand and Tsumiki on his leg, both gripping tightly to combat a chilly 10°C.

Things are different now, evidently. Megumi’s outgrown it, and Tsumiki is no longer here. But Gojo has stayed the same, and it’s comforting to know that he will continue to be this Satoru, your Satoru, even when some things are gone. 

You don’t realize you’ve spaced out until he waves the ice cream cone while walking towards you.  

Gojo is a sight in trunks the color of his eyes, with seahorses and starfishes in an alternating pattern of peachy-pink against cerulean blue. 

You could have sworn you asked for your own cone, but he plops down beside you holding only one. For the both of you. The side-eye you give him is almost criminal, if not deadly, but your lips twitch from the smile you’re hiding (terribly). 

He raises an eyebrow and you break character, shaking your head while laughing. 

“Did you eat the other one on the way here?” you tease, craning your neck to lick at the bottom scoop (vanilla-strawberry-vanilla, Gojo’s signature order). 

Your tongue lands dangerously close to his fingers, and he feels it, but his eyes only land on you—your lips, how they part for your tongue to glide smoothly on his–both of your–dessert. You look every bit of an angel in the soft, pale hues of your bikini, but Gojo’s thoughts are anything but saintly. 

He blushes furiously, the tips of his ears and nose bright red as he turns away from you quickly. 

“I’m fulfilling your dream of sharing an ice cream cone with me.” he tilts his chin up, proud, smirking slightly. He jokes about it knowing full well that this is his dream come true, just by the look of you. 

You stay quiet, rolling your eyes but never meanly, no. You only ever do it fondly—he knows, being on the receiving end of it one too many times. 

The beach towel scrunches when you scoot closer, looping your arm around his as you both rest your elbows on your knees. Gojo holds the cone between you two, tipping it towards you when it’s your turn to lick. 

He shouldn’t stare, shouldn’t hyperfixate, but it’s so cute how you get the tiniest bit of ice cream on the tip of your nose—as if it belongs there, soft and sweet just like the rest of you. 

You look up to find Gojo gazing at you, eyes glimmering like sunlight on the ocean, and a tiny smile that only widens when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, scrunching your nose in an effort to stop yourself from grinning. 

When Gojo looks at you this way, as if you are his favorite place rediscovered, your heart thumps furiously against your ribcage. 

“What…” you drawl, your smile impossible to hide in the lilt of your voice. 

Gojo thinks he can count every eyelash, every speck of sand dotting your face, and stil not be bored of you. He can’t stop beaming. 

Is this what it means to be in love with you? 

“Nothing.” he replies, almost giggling, a little bashful but with every inch of sincerity. You know that smile, the only one that holds every ounce of Satoru. Gojo smiles big and wide to everyone else, but this small one you know, is reserved just for you. 

He leans in, lips coming closer to brush against the tip of your nose. Your eyes fall shut, instinctively, and the pink dot is wiped clean, a hint of strawberry dancing on his palate. He’s done this more times than he can count, has gotten this near to know that close will never be close enough, but you still jolt a bit—PDA has never been your thing. 

When he pulls away, you continue to stare at each other, locked in a gaze until the ice cream begins to drip down his fingers and onto the beach towel. It misses his trunks by a hair and you both laugh at how he belatedly tries to escape it even though it’s already there. 

It’s indescribable, this moment, seeing you in slow motion, laughing as bright as the sun—the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. It takes every bit of him to look away so he can wipe his hands clean from the dripping dessert.

You hand him a packet of wipes and beckon him to sit in front of you after. Squeezed onto the palm of your hand is a copious amount of sunscreen you plan to slather all over him. A touch-up, if you will. 

Gojo has sensitive skin, pale as bond paper and burns just as quickly. The high points of his face are already reddening, warm to the touch when you dab at them with sunscreen. 

You’re so near, so close, sitting cross-legged in front of him with your knees touching his. The tip of your tongue sticks out just slightly as you focus on his skin. 

Even though he knows, he still wonders what your lips would taste like, SPF chapstick and crumbly bits from the wafer cone. He wonders what your eyelashes would feel like, fluttering over his own. 

The light casts a halo around you and he thinks it’s fitting for all that you do. You pamper him like this, slather love all over his chest and back, massage it in so it dissolves into him—and he feels it so deep that he tastes it.

How can your love be so sweet? He thinks, sighing as your fingers work sunscreen up his neck from his collarbone. You always apply his skincare like this: upwards, gently—‘no tugging, please!’—something about keeping his baby face even when he’s old. 

“You should join them,” you mumble, rubbing more product onto the nape of his neck. You’re leaning over his shoulder, neck brushed against his cheek. 

Gojo hums, watching everyone from a distance. It’s been a while since he’s had a day like this. 

“But maybe after 30 minutes, so the sunblock doesn’t wash off. You’re already burning.” you note, coming back to sit. 

Of course, he’s already burning. How can he not when the sun is right in front of him? 

.

You join everyone for a game of beach volleyball in the sunset of the afternoon. You’re transported back to high school, the last time you did this—you and Satoru against Shoko and Suguru, with Haibara keeping score. 

From the way Gojo’s eyes are glossed over, you can tell he’s thinking about it too, the memory having seared itself into your brains forever, it seems. 

Being paired together should feel familiar—the same, but it doesn’t—isn’t, because Gojo can’t concentrate, sneaking glances to notice all the little things about you that he never used to. Your skin shines from the combination of sweat and sunscreen, and when you crash into him it’s both sticky and slippery. He should really ask for a time-out before you blind him completely. 

You look unfairly good in your bikini, too good he can barely hear you calling for him; between the ocean and his blood rushing, any other sound is drowned out into nothing. 

Maki and Yuuji absolutely demolish the both of you, reaching 15 first in the final set. Gojo blames the loss on you of course, even though he’s missed every pass you’ve sent his way and netted 60% of his spikes. 

And maybe it technically is your fault—you and your (very distracting) little things. But it’s entirely on him that he’s fallen for it, fallen for you as much as this. 

.

.

.

Gojo thinks of love differently when he sees a picture of himself and all it does is remind him of you.

There’s a photo tucked safely in his wallet (saved and set as his homescreen too). Shoko snorts when she walks in on him printing it, all six-foot-three of him hunched over the small inkjet printer in the faculty room. 

“It’s all digital now, Satoru,” she scoffs, taking a puff on her cigarette. 

Gojo doesn’t say anything even though he knows it’s true, too focused on watching the printer push out the two-by-three inch image he’s about to cut into. 

Print photos aren’t as important anymore when cloud storage spaces are just as–if not more–accessible, but Gojo is admittedly sentimental despite every front he puts up to hide it. 

He’s kept every single gift you’ve given him and camouflaged it as decoration in his office, and the family drawing 10-year-old Tsumiki made is still folded between the pages of a self-help book Yaga had given him when he first decided to teach. 

When every moment is experienced so vividly, seen through a muddle of infinite energies, there are those he wishes could stay still—ones that take up space to remind him: ‘this is real, it happened, and here is proof that it did’. 

He already has one of all of you, fresh-faced and barely pushing the peaks of youth at 16. A tangle of arms wrapped around each other—one of his gripping tightly on Suguru, and the other hanging loosely over you. Utahime is crouched in front, holding the hand you’ve placed on her shoulder while pulling Shoko into a semi-squish-semi-hug (because out of the four of you, Shoko is her favorite—completely valid; if given the choice, she’d be your favorite too). Nanami and Haibara stay close to Suguru, squatting low to balance the photo, and Haibara is smiling, the ever cheery grin Suguru loves to dote on, while Nanami is Nanami—sharp features and a serious gaze that you all know he’ll grow into someday, handsome with age. 

For the longest time, Gojo has kept that photo hidden, locked away in the drawer of his bedside table as if keeping it there means the memory will stay guarded forever—untouched, unspoiled, unruined. 

It would have stayed there if you didn’t stumble upon it while looking for his painkillers during another one of his skull-crushing migraines. 

You approach him with the image hesitantly, eyes damp and glossy. Years have faded the colors ever so slightly, but the corners remain crisp from being stowed away neatly. You say sorry, that you shouldn’t have looked through his things, but you remember the moment it was taken so fondly: a visit to the Kyoto campus on a one-day break to train with other students. 

Gojo has many theories about time and the multitude of spaces it takes—like how a person can exist at different points in time, disparate at each instance, and still take up the same big chunk of space. The opposite can be true too, that someone can live finitely (just once) and occupy spaces in every place you look: the face of a passerby down the road, a sign at the corner of the street, or even a photograph that immortalizes people you once knew. 

He only shares when you ask, aware that he tends to be a bit of a nerd about it whenever it’s brought up, but you don't mind. You like listening to it all, no matter how insightful or confusing they are for you to make sense—a version of him not many get to witness. His explanations are comprehensible for the most part, except—

When Gojo tells you that he’s kept the image in his drawer, hidden, because exposing it to the space-time that exists now will erase every reminder that it ever happened, you hug him tightly. 

Your sniffles are heard from the way his head is tucked into the crook of your neck, your fingers gripping strands of his hair in empathy. 

He considers your near-tears as a sign that the memory is long gone, decayed into the brittling tragedy of reality. But you smile, the corners of your lips bittersweet as you express disbelief that he’s kept it all this time. 

You tell him delicately that some precious things are meant to be celebrated, put out to be remembered—to be experienced. 

And it becomes clearer to him then, by the look in your eyes and remembrance soft-spoken, that what good is a photo unseen? 

What good is a love unwitnessed?

When you gift him a frame a year after finding the photo, he hangs it by the wall next to his office door. The image is painful to look at, always has been (even when it was hidden in his drawer)—during Suguru’s defection, and death anniversaries especially. 

The recent one for Nanami was heavy; the first time he’s ever been able to process grief fully. 

Gojo can argue that it grows more difficult every time he catches a glimpse of it from his desk, but you have a way of honoring pain that doesn’t make it sting as bad—that turns it into a reminder of a love that was once there, of feelings that hurt as evidence that someone cared. 

Now, he wants another photo printed, one of just the two of you. Not because it hurts, but because he wants this precious thing to be remembered and seen—for this love to be witnessed too. 

It’s self-timered, snapped under the shade of a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. The picture is far from perfect: your eyes bright and mouth open mid-fear of his phone falling off the bridge railing. 

You may look a teensy bit funny, but Gojo will always find it cute. Anyone can see it, at how he looks at you in that moment—like you are every bit worthy of the distance travelled and seasons waited. He gazes at you fondly, eyes holding clear skies and pink lips curling into a small smile. 

It’s cheesy, but if you ask him what he thinks about this year’s flowers, he’ll tell you none of them (not even any of them combined) could compare to you. The cherry blossoms could be gone and he’d still see them everywhere (in the softness of your lips, the fullness of your cheeks, the radiance you emit when you are truly, solely content and happy). 

He remembers that afternoon well: the spring breeze that jolts his phone sideways, his hand resting on your lower back, unseen in the image. There’s no real reason for visiting the blossoms on this day of all days, but Gojo doesn’t believe in coincidences, and he’s counted down exactly to a year since you both had your first kiss.

It’s so silly, because he’s never thought of things like this before. He knows you probably don’t think much of it either considering that neither of you have made anything official yet since. 

And he feels a little stupid for that, honestly. 

You have a drawer of his clothes for the nights he stays over (more often than not), and even though you go on these little trips that are so obviously dates, you both still just tell everyone you’re ‘hanging out’.

He’s not fooling anyone here, not when he looks at you then with the feeling of his chest expanding, stretching to accommodate the overflows of his affection since learning the ways to love you—tenderness caught in little pixels of eternity.  

When Gojo goes through all 179 photos from that afternoon, he filters out the ones to delete and picks this one out especially—favorites and resizes it to fit his home screen and his wallet too. 

There’s something about the look on his face that reminds him of every time he’s caught the same one on you. 

He slides the photo into the little sleeve behind his credit card, catching himself smiling—this must be because of you, he thinks, and the bits and pieces of yourself that have somehow become part of him slowly, sneaking into him unknowingly.

If this is what it means to be in love, with you, then he’s fucked. 

Don’t you know that he’s insatiable? These traces of you will only make him want the whole of you. 

.

You find the photo while he rushes to the restaurant restroom. On ‘hang out’s like this, you insist on splitting the bill, but Gojo has always been stubborn and you’ve learned that you can never argue. 

He hands you his wallet to pay with his card, and when you slide it out, the photo falls. It’s face down on the floor when you pick it up, fully expecting it to be a photocard of some idol you know Gojo follows. 

But it isn’t, and your smile widens. 

When Gojo comes back, you’re looking up at him affectionately, biting your lips as if to stop yourself from speaking—the same way he always does. 

It’s funny because, slotted between your two fingers is the photo he’s kind of flustered you found, but he has no time to be embarrassed when he sees a little bit of himself in the way you’re staring at him right now.

.

.

.

“So, Yuuji asked if we were together.” 

You quirk an eyebrow, looking up at Gojo from the pile of laundry you’ve begun folding on your bed. He emerges from the bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel. 

Over the past year, Gojo has spent his weekends off with you, sleeping over and traipsing around your room in his pajama set as if he’s lived here just as long as you. 

You snort as you fold, amused that this is even a question to begin with. Yuuji’s always been known for being exceptionally dense, but you didn’t think it was this bad. Gojo was especially touchy with you during that beach trip, and you’re sure Megumi and Nobara have caught up to let him know by now, somehow. 

“What made him ask?” 

“I think he wants to take you away.” Gojo teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he throws the towel on the chair across your vanity. 

You roll your eyes, still sweetly, indulging him, “Sure.” 

It’s now a running joke that Gojo’s threatened about Yuuji stealing you; you’ve always had a soft spot for bright eyes and even brighter souls and Yuuji is as close to that as anyone can get.

It’s not like that though, it could never be; Yuuji is just like your Megumi—the two boys you want to protect and care for in hopes of treating them better than their lives have ever. 

Gojo feels the same, you know, otherwise he wouldn’t have guided them as much as he has (despite his... questionable ways). Still, your hands have always been gentler, kinder—and though shorter, have always outstretched much farther than his. 

You have a way of inching yourself into people’s lives that just fits. He’s experienced it first-hand, can’t even dare to imagine what his life would be like if you didn’t. 

He walks across the room to you, bed dipping as he steadies a knee before draping his entire body over your shoulders. 

Now that you think about it, it makes sense that Yuuji’s confused, because Gojo has always been extremely touchy to everyone, just never when the feelings mattered, with you. Kiss him once, though, and it snowballs into an avalanche of firsts. And what he’s about to do right now, he thinks, might just trigger another one to form all together. 

“As if I’d let him.” he mumbles right by your ear, chin tucked by the crook of your neck. It tickles when he speaks, his nose poking at your cheeks. 

“Who put you in charge?” you scoff jokingly, unfazed. 

He moves away from you in disbelief, mouth open as he stares at you mindlessly folding.

To be fair, he can’t fault you. You aren’t technically official even though you have kind-of-been for a little over a year. There’s no particular reason, just that you haven’t talked about it—part because you wanted him to approach it whenever he was ready, and also, because it just never seemed like a priority.

You laugh as he stares at you, stunned into silence, the pout on his face borrowed from all the versions of yours. 

There’s no point of contention because you’ve only ever loved Gojo since you were 17. 

“Kidding,” you kiss his cheek as an apology. 

“Don’t even joke about that.” he huffs, you’re starting to take after him a little too much.

“You’re mine.” he murmurs after, arms wrapped around your waist and legs stretched out wide to encase you. 

He says it as if it is the simplest truth. 

Your heartbeat quickens, too loud and pounding; this is the first time you’ve ever heard this from him, and a part of you thinks this is just another one of those flirty side-comments he makes on a whim.

“You tell him that?” you hope he can’t hear your voice shake as he nuzzles your neck, your fingers trembling on the pair of socks you have yet to roll. 

He hums, hugging you tighter. He waits for you to finish folding before letting you lean against him, offering his fingers for you to fiddle with. They’re cold, long and slender, veiny just by a bit, and he always gives them to you like they’re yours, you like to think. 

There’s an inhale, a breath of hesitation, before he exhales.  

“Something like it.” 

You don’t say anything, only nod, and it’s nerve-wracking. He’s so nervous even though he knows he doesn’t have to be because it’s just you. And there’s no need to doubt what you’re feeling. But—

“You are though,” he pauses, “right?” 

He has to be sure. This is a testament to you more than himself that he’s learned to ask instead of bulldozing you like he does with everyone else. Who else will he pick that up from but you? 

There’s hesitation you hear that you think shouldn’t be there anymore; the fact that you’ve given so much of yourself to this man and he still thinks you’re unsure—

“‘Cause I’m yours.” he speaks, clearly, definitively, before you can even answer. And you know—you’ve known ever since that party years ago. A simple admittance: ‘I’m taken’. 

You turn around to face him, eyes shimmering. 

Can he see? You’re meant for him only. 

All you’ve ever wanted was to love him; everything else he’s done up until this point is already more than you could ever imagine. The labels can only do so much to capture the gravity of what you are to one another: years of history unpacked into a mishmash of feelings overlapping—it’s a lot.

You sit cross legged in front of him, your knees touching his. He’s biting his lips again, an anxious habit you want to kiss away. 

Gojo has proven far too much of himself already that he’s serious with you—your kind-of-confession, that confrontation, and the days after, all the ways you’ve both learned to love each other. 

You cup his cheeks. 

A single word cannot possibly define what he is to you.

“I mean, o-only if you want me to be.” he adds on, blue eyes darting back and forth.

Gojo runs his mouth almost all the time and you’ve never heard him stutter once in his life. Except now. 

He’s endearing like this—a version of him you are slowly discovering. 

“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” you finally say, and it’s a relief. 

He feels good, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pull you closer, hugging you tighter as you both smile. 

He kisses you once, twice, maybe a million times all over, travelling across your eyelids, the center of your forehead, down to the corners of your mouth before landing a real one right on your lips. 

Gojo always looks pretty but he looks prettiest like this, worry-free, with love in his eyes and nothing but pure happiness in the way he holds you. 

He won’t tell you that Yuuji asked about your anniversary, not if you were together. 

At least now he has an answer.

Gojo stares at you like he wants to say something, a thank you maybe, but he bites his lips instead. No words will ever amount to this feeling, he thinks, of his chest expanding and heart hammering. So he kisses you with all of it, trailing soft smacks of his lips down your neck, tickling. The tips of his hair are still wet from his shower, leaving droplets on your skin as he nips. 

You laugh—sprinkled in love. 

“S-stop!” you push him away, “Satoru,” giggling, “tickles!” 

“We have to consummate it now.” he whispers, grabbing you by the waist to place you on his lap, squeezing your sides while nibbling at your neck playfully. 

You roll your eyes at his antics, “It’s not–” you laugh out loud when he pinches your hips, “–marriage, Satoru.” 

Oh, if only you knew, he thinks. 

The image you’ve planted in his head is dangerous when he’s this drunk on love right now. 

More decades, more years spent with you? In another life, or maybe even in this one, if time permits, he wouldn’t mind making that come true. 

.

It’s crazy how much things can change—for all his life, he’s ruled out the possibility of love ever taking root in his ribcage. 

You’ve managed to make it feel so easy, so good, even when he was shit-terrified not knowing how to love you like he should. 

Now, he thinks, how could he ever miss out on love this way? A love this good, with you? 

.

.

.

For all of Gojo’s life, he’s never had to be anyone else—always the strongest, the only one. He’s never had to change anything about himself, because what’s there to improve when you’re already the best?

In a way, this is why it works with you. You’ve taken him as he is, all the good and ugly and never asked for anything more than what he can give. 

But being this in love with you—it’s foreign. There are pieces within him shifting, all on their own without him knowing. 

How he wants to be better, for you. To be good enough to deserve all of it, and give back more of it too. 

Gojo doesn’t realize how much love has changed him until he feels it uprooting every insecurity he never even knew existed, pulling it all up to the surface. 

When things are going great, it’s hard to imagine them ever going the other way. 

.

.

.

“You don’t mean that.” you mumble, voice trembling.

Gojo stares at you, at your lips quivering and the fists clenched to your sides. There are tears collecting in pools by your eyes, and if there’s anything else he hates in this world, it’s seeing you cry. 

So why?

Why couldn’t he just shut up? 

“Please tell me you don’t mean that,” you take a step closer, gripping the edge of his jacket, “Satoru.” your voice cracks, begging. 

It’s an out-of-body experience when Gojo registers that he’s fucked up, and he sees himself now, bird’s-eye-view, and thinks this is the worst thing he could do to you after all you’ve been through. 

“I need some time to think,” he says, finally, the only words coming out of his mouth—but he can’t hear himself speaking. 

He should have said sorry, taken it all back, he thinks, not make it worse by leaving. 

He heads for the door, heart crunching under each footstep away from you. 

Is this what being in love’s supposed to do? Break his heart while yours is bleeding?

.

You’re too good for Gojo, in every sense of the word—and he knows it.

You are far too kind, far too generous, far too patient with him. You give him more love than he deserves, definitely, and admittedly enough, with how he is, you have been settling for the bare minimum but that’s on him, not on you. 

He had no right speaking to you the way he did, hurting you with accusations born from insecurities he’s never before had to deal with. 

He knows it. 

Who accuses you of ‘meddling’ as if everything out of you doesn’t come from the goodness of your heart? Of provoking you with ‘chasing the bare minimum’ as if he isn’t aware that that’s all he’s given you to work with? 

Utahime was right in telling you to be careful with him, and he doesn’t blame her for it. He would have done the same. 

He should have told you there was something brewing inside of him already—should have talked to you instead of bursting from all the things people have been saying lately.

Gojo hasn’t spoken to you in three days and the feeling this compares to is worse than anything else he’s ever had to face. 

.

He knocks on your door at night, a little past dinner and too early for bedtime. They echo loudly within the walls of your apartment, and you drag yourself up despite your obvious look of heartbreak. 

Gojo hears your footsteps and everything moves entirely too slowly; the lock, taking far too long to turn, the gap between the door and the door frame widening incrementally. Even your face comes into view as if in stop motion, frame-by-frame, gradually.

His hands are in his pockets, lips bitten to bleed. He’s pretty sure he isn’t breathing when he takes you in—puffy eyes and a sweater that belongs to him. 

(Is it sick of him to say that he still finds you beautiful this way? Even when you look every bit the part of heartache?) 

Gojo didn’t have a plan coming here, didn’t have a list of things to say, just the feeling that he needed to talk to you, see you, even just be around you today. 

When your eyes meet, it’s quiet. You stare into him for one–two–three– (Can you tell that they’re watery? Can you see they’re puffed up too?) and then open the door wider to let him in. You head straight to the kitchen, never once looking back while dragging your feet. 

He stands outside a few seconds more, waiting for you to take it back—but you don’t, so he walks in and closes the door.

He’s been in your apartment plenty of times before, has practically lived in it by how often he stays over. But this is the first time he’s felt wholly out of place, not knowing where to put himself, just standing in the space between your kitchen counter and the living room awkwardly.

You push a glass of water towards him and he can’t stop staring at it—at you, at your fingers that he wants nothing more now but to hold. 

Even with all his faults, all his wrongs, you open your arms for him to walk into, allow him in as if he didn’t just hurt you. 

And he wants to cry, at the fact that this place still feels like home, at how it’ll always feel that way wherever you go. 

How are you still treating him so kindly? Still taking care of him? A glass of water is one too many for someone like him. 

You turn away from him to pour yourself your own then he speaks—

“You should be angry with me.” Gojo says softly, but you hear it. 

You pause, tilting the pitcher back upright. 

“Why aren’t you angry at me?” he says, a little louder this time, more desperate, more pleading.

Why are you never angry at me? he wants to ask. 

You turn around to face him, putting the pitcher down.

Under your kitchen lights, his eyes shine like sunlight on the ocean, waves lapping on the shore. You think it might be a trick of the light, but his lips tremble when he closes them, as if he can’t speak any more. 

It’s just as you’ve said, there’s no point being angry with him when your heart can never take it. 

You always give Gojo the benefit of the doubt, and though he’s hurt you—though this might be the most painful thing he’s told you yet, you know that he’s been under immense pressure lately. Stressed beyond belief from negotiating with the government on policies for jujutsu society. 

It’s not an excuse, you know, but Gojo always has his reasons. He'll tell you eventually, you believe that much. 

You give him a sad smile, struggling to stop your tears from spilling. His fists are clenched too tightly, nails digging in hard enough to bleed. He hasn’t moved since coming in, so you push yourself off the kitchen sink towards him. 

You take his hands first, unfurl each finger pressed upon his palm and rub gently. He cries quietly for a love so pure that only you would attempt to ease his hurt despite the pain he’s dealt you. 

You tiptoe second, pulling the sleeves of your (his) sweater before reaching up to wipe his eyes—beautiful and blue just like you’ve always known, droplets of the ocean at your fingertips. 

“Be mad,” he whispers, “please.” squeezing his eyes tightly. 

It hurts more when you aren’t, he thinks. 

His hand comes up to grip your wrist, bringing it down to cup his cheek. You stroke your thumb across his skin, soothing, loving, and that’s all it takes for him to pull you in. He hugs you tight, arms wrapped around you, clutching. 

He wouldn’t deserve you. In any life.

Gojo’s never cried this much before, head pressed to your neck as you rub circles along his back, shushing him softly. You start sniffling too, small at first until it turns into soft hiccups when you finally cry. 

Your grip on him tightens. 

“‘M sorry.” he mumbles, lips moving against your neck. 

“‘S–” you hiccup, “–okay.” 

“Stop saying that when it’s not,” he presses against you, nuzzling your neck, “I hurt you.”

“Then don’t–” another hiccup, “–call yourself–” hic, “–bare minimum.” you cry harder. 

Gojo knows your heart and the tears that leak out of your eyes; he knows they hold pain for more than just yourself but every single person in your life. You, crying now, is evidence of that truth—shedding tears for him not just because of him when he thinks he’s the bare minimum. 

This must be what it means to be truly, deeply loved, he thinks, to have someone know what you mean without even having to speak it—to know your heart, and all the good and bad parts of it. 

“I don’t think I’m good enough to you,” he admits, pulling himself away from you.

When he sees your face, wet, with your nose and eyes puffed up from crying, he decides that he hates it more than anything else. Makes it sick to his stomach, even. 

He cradles your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your tears. A whole hand of his could cover your face entirely, but he always, without fail, holds you delicately. 

“That’s not–” hic, “–true.” you gather your breathing, holding him by the wrists as he presses his forehead against yours. “Only I get to decide that. Not anyone, not you.” 

You kiss his lips, a small peck before nudging his nose with yours. You soothe each other this way—in the quiet, swaying to your own tune. 

“You’re good to me plenty, Satoru.” you whisper, once both of you have settled. 

He opens his eyes to look at you, smiling sadly as he cradles your face, “I didn’t mean it.” 

Whatever he told you that day, taking it all out on you.

“I know.” you mumble, nodding. 

You always do. 

.

.

.

Gojo has always loved you, in some type of way—as friends, colleagues, a-little-bit-more-but-less-than what you are today. 

But how he feels right now? It’s kind of ridiculous, borderline out-of-hand, and it’s driving him insane. 

It’s such a simple, ordinary thing for you to do: you rush up to him, phone in hand and scroll to some video you found online. You’re so excited, a bounce in your step as if he’s the first and only person you want to show this to. Your eyes shine bright with a megawatt smile to match, and you’re talking so, so fast, completely lit up like fireworks in the making. 

He knows you think that he’s listening but, he couldn’t care less about it honestly. Sorry. Not when the words go in one ear and out the other, because all that registers is how adorable you are, giddy and everything. 

He makes a joke—completely unrelated, but you find it so funny. Then you’re laughing, full on smacking his arm, doubled over, arms hugging your stomach, guffawing. Your feet are kicking the air as you sink deeper into your couch. Gojo’s standing in front of you, post-enactment of some impression he made, and he’s frozen in place but warm all over. 

Seeing you laugh like this, smile like this, being so pretty when you’re happy, the pounding in his chest goes crazy. 

This isn’t the first time he’s made you laugh; he does it all the time. You almost always roll your eyes and chuckle, sometimes giggle with your eyes squinting and laugh lines creasing. But it might be the first time it’s like this: with you so bright, more than the sun and every other star in the sky. 

And he thinks, this is all he could ever want—to make you happy for the rest of his life. 

There’s too much of this feeling inside of him, clawing at his throat, itching to get out. He’s filled with it, has been filled with it for so long that it’s starting to overflow and if he doesn’t say this now he might just—

“I’m so in love with you.” 

Gojo breathes it out, as if finally releasing it after all this time. You don’t think he processes it because he just stands there, in the middle of your living room, staring at you. 

Your laughter dies with maybe a little part of you too (in a good way). 

He looks so sweet, so sincere, and you see his heart, so big, so honest and pure. You get flashbacks of every Satoru you have ever known, at 15, 17, 23, to now. 

It’s not like either of you don’t know; it’s plain as day, how you feel about each other—and you would have been fine going on without ever having to hear him speak of love this way.

But hearing it now, it’s far better than anything you could have imagined. 

You stare at him. He stares at you. 

He’s shocked too. 

You don’t want to embarrass him, especially if he didn’t mean to say it, so you chuckle, moving on to break the quiet.

“I can unhear it if you want,” you offer shyly, genuinely. 

Gojo looks at you, confused, before a pout makes its way onto his face. You sit up on your couch, playing with your fingers as you look up at him.

Sure, he practically blurted it out, maybe in the heat of the moment, or something, but it doesn’t make it any less true. And he’s realizing that the only thing he really wants from this—

“Though…” you continue, biting your lips, “I think I’m pretty in love with you too.” 

The little laugh you make has him, completely. 

The grin that breaks on his face is infectious. Gojo, who is normally so pale, is now pink all over—red by his ears and down his neck. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that can be found in yours too. 

This moment right here feels like first loves—teens first saying ‘I love you’. 

“You think?” he asks incredulously, joking, “So you’re not sure?” he walks closer to you. 

You laugh, candy for his cravings, and take his hand to kiss each knuckle before guiding it to your cheek. He runs a thumb across your skin, affection on his fingertips. His index finger hooks itself under your chin, tilting it to rest on his stomach as you look up at him. 

A kiss to your forehead, tenderly, gently. 

The best part about being in love? 

He gets to be in it with you. 

.

.

.

Gojo can’t sleep. 

It’s not anything new—4 hours on average, maybe 6 on a good night. He doesn’t remember a time when sleep ever came easily.

Sleeping with you, beside you, has helped, but it’s never solved the problem. You’ve gotten him to a full 8 hours before, but never consecutively, and he’s starting to think that if you can’t do it, nothing ever will. 

Your sleeping positions change every night, but they always come out as some variation of hugging. Gojo firmly believes that he might as well sleep alone if you aren’t touching. 

Tonight, you’re spooning, arm slung over his waist and palm right on his chest, fingers interlaced with his. Your legs stay tangled together with soft puffs of air blowing at the back of his neck. 

He opens his eyes and checks the clock by his bedside. 3:24 a.m. 

He sighs deeply, carefully maneuvering his body to slip away from you. You used to wake up the first few times this happened, worried about an emergency or some kind of accident. Being a sorcerer trains you for things like that. 

You’ve always known Gojo had bad sleep, just not the severity of it. 

You don’t wake up to it as much as you used to, having grown accustomed to it after more nights together, but on the off-chance that you do, Gojo always kisses your forehead gently as if to tell you that it’s okay, you can go back to sleep.

You don’t wake up now, thankfully, so he grabs his phone and heads for the kitchen. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest tonight, far heavier than others he’s woken up from. He pours himself a glass of water before hopping on the kitchen counter, ready to sort through the bowl of candy sitting on the island. 

The date today is October 31. Halloween. It’s been a few years since Shibuya but he still feels like he’s suffocating. 

In the train station. In the box.

In front of Suguru—or Kenjaku, both, whatever. 

He’s gone to therapy, just like you wanted, for the both of you, and grieving has been an interesting concept to wrap his head around since.

But no matter how much he trains his mind to deal with it, his body will always remember the feeling. 

He snaps out of it when he hears your footsteps padding on the floorboards. Your figure emerges from the hallway, bed hair and eyes still sleepy, squinting. 

“Satoru?” you rub at your eyes, his sleep shirt entirely too long as the sleeves extend past your fingertips. The extra fabric swings in the air. “You okay?” you whisper, approaching him. 

Waking you up is the last thing he could ever want right now, but it’s hard when you’re also the only one he can talk about this with. When you know what it’s like to grieve everyone too.  

He has every intention of brushing it off, of telling you to go to sleep, but one look at you—one look at him and it’s like you just know. He doesn’t even need to explain. 

It isn’t hard to piece together, knowing what today is and seeing him choked up the way he is. You tell Gojo it’s your intuition, but he has a tell, and maybe you’re the only one who knows it. 

His eyes—they’ve always given him away. There’s the Satoru you know, then a Satoru that’s far removed, gone away. You can spot it though, the moment it loses its sparkle, the moment it turns from blue to gray. 

He feels a little selfish sharing this with you; he’s not the only one who’s lost people. You have too. 

You stand in front of him and offer a sad smile, outstretching your arms as an invite, as if to tell him: you can stay here for as long as you’d like. 

He moves into your space slowly, hopping off the kitchen island to slump against you. 

He doesn’t hug you yet, not immediately, hands still shaky at the memory. You rub his back, hooking your chin on his shoulder as he bends down to rest his head by your cheek. 

You take his hand delicately, bringing them to your lips so you can kiss every fingertip gently. When you finish, he wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whisper, like a hushed secret. 

And he wants to, but also, there isn’t anything else to say that you don’t know already. You were there the first few times he had therapy, and when he felt comfortable enough to go alone, he told you all about it anyway right after. 

If there’s a secret to fighting the Gojo Satoru with guaranteed victory, they’d only have to get to you—he’d be gone, entirely. You know too much of him, own too many parts of him already. 

He chuckles dryly, vibrating by your neck. A step back and he’s leaning against the counter, bringing you closer by the hip, thumb stroking. He tucks away strands of your hair behind your ear, flattening down the bird’s nest that it is from your sleep. 

“Nothing you haven’t heard before, pretty.”

Gojo’s been more tender lately, especially in the night when his piercing eyes turn soft, gazing. 

You pout, the same one since you were 16. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it, the way he calls you such sweet, honeyed things; you’ve only recently begun to call him ‘baby’ and that alone has been enough to make your head spin. 

Still, he wouldn’t be your Satoru if he didn’t surprise you. With how he is now, it’s hard to imagine a time when this was all so difficult for him, when even the slightest bit of your hands touching was challenging. 

It’s hard to imagine that both of you are here now, living in the same space, by the kitchen at night, with the contents of your hearts memorized—the sorrow, the pain, the joy, all the love, every single one. 

He kisses your nose, and that’s comfort alone. 

This is his reality now, with you, and it’s safe.

It’s good. 

“Do you want to make waffles?” he hears you mumble, running your hands over his chest, soothing.  

The clock reads 3:56 a.m. Early breakfast doesn’t sound so bad, could also be a midnight snack.

(But he knows what you’re doing). 

You don’t tell him to try to go back to sleep, never forcing anything you know he can’t do. Instead, you offer yourself to stay up with him, keep him company. Whatever he needs. 

(And he loves that about you). 

.

.

.

Gojo will forever argue that you might have fallen first, but he’s definitely fallen harder. 

He could map out every single location he’s laid his love on—your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your nose, and your lips, the same ones he’s kissed and nipped, bitten until he gets his fill. 

Your neck and chest—a canvas for his desires. He glides a finger across your collarbone before lightly tapping on it thrice. 

There’s the little dip at the base of your spine, and your thighs—

Oh, he could get lost in them. 

He knows. 

He has. Many times.

There’s an animal inside of him that only answers to you. 

When you kiss his neck and grip his back, soft moans by his ear—short and sweet. He’s a gone man, wholly devoted to you, and you only. 

You breathe his name out, “Satoru,” raspily, and he sinks into you—everything, all that he has spilling in the depths of you. 

How can he possibly contain all this love?

It’s scary how so much of him already belongs to you, all these years—how you’ve been carrying pieces of him, all versions of him throughout every birthday, every moment you’ve touched his life and have it irrevocably changed. 

.

“Are you happy?” he mumbles by your ear, voice deep and lazy. 

It’s the morning, sunlight barely peeking through your curtains. Gojo hugs you from behind, arms caging you as he traces little hearts on your sides. 

“Right now?” you whisper back, chuckling, “That’s not fair.” 

He nips at your ear, a small bite, before you turn to face him.

He supposes you’re right, it isn’t fair to ask that now; both your bodies are sore, well-exhausted, and littered with conversations on love. 

Gojo is pretty in the mornings just like he is all the time, his hair lending well to sunlight as much as it does to the moonlight. And his eyes—they shine a different shade during the day compared to the night. 

You though, you’re an entirely different creature of your own: a goddess in bedsheets and pillows, wrapped in immaculate white.  

You giggle when you face him, nose-to-nose, and he pulls you in tighter, grips you by the butt to slot you in right where you belong. 

Are you happy with me? 

He wonders, and you can read it—his eyes his greatest tell. You kiss him tenderly, lips moving gently against his. Then you smile, sincerely, before whispering—

“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

this is a re-upload! (because i accidentally deleted the original one!) thank you notes: to @stellamancer for being there since the very start!! col wouldn’t even exist without you!! you’re every much part of the creation of this as i am :'), to @crysugu for being so ever supportive, cheering me on all the time!! and for loving col reader as much as i do!! and to you reading this and everyone else who has loved this collection so far!!  of course!! a credit to all the writers whose works have inspired the way i view and write gojo: to @seravphs for teen dad!gojo and cruel summer influences, i draw so much of the way i understand these characters and their dynamics from you and your beautiful way of writing them and i hope my interpretation gives justice to that!!, to @augustinewrites for keeping up with the fushigojos, this series and the way you write them, with so much love, has always pushed for me to view gojo that way!! you’ve inspired so much of my understanding that gojo does believe in love and that when he falls in it, he falls in it hard!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[slttygeto]

"IT'S A BLUE WORLD WITHOUT YOU" -- GOJO. S

c.w: heavy manga spoilers, heavy content mentioned towards the end (su!cide), wrote this with fem! reader on mind.

word count: 2k.

note: this is how I cope.

You are fifteen and you think Satoru is annoying.

You like rainy days. You like the feeling of comfort that comes with hearing the sound of rain hit the ground, the smell of soil and winter approaching and everyone pulling out their colored umbrellas to shield themselves from getting what. You love the rain, but you learn that someone doesn’t.

The door to the classroom slides open and you see a new figure standing by the door, looking extremely pissed. You share a look with your classmate, Shoko before Yaga steps from behind the new student and clears his throat.

“Girls, we have a new student-“

“I hate the rain.” The white haired boy interrupts your teacher and you furrow your eyebrows. Did he not know anything about respecting his elders? But before you could even think of possibly pointing it out to Shoko, Yaga’s hand collides with the back of the boy’s head and a loud smack echoes in the classroom. You watch the scene unfold with wide eyes.

“I was talking,” Yaga presses and the white haired male rubs the back of his head with a whine.

“That hurt!”

“Good. Anyway, this piece of shit is Gojo Satoru. He will be a student here with you. That’s Shoko,” Yaga points at the girl before moving his pointer towards you.

“And that’s (Name). Sit between them or next to one of them, it’s up to you.”

Gojo’s eyes flicker between you and Shoko for a good second before deciding to put his desk next to you and you raise your eyebrow.

“What?” He asks and you finally notice that he has sunglasses on during cold weather.

“I like to sit next to the window.”

“Well, he told me to choose.” He says before looking outside of the window, turning his back towards you.

“You don’t like the rain,” you add. “But I do, and I wanna sit next to the window when it rains.”

“You like the rain?” He sounds offended but you don’t falter and simply nod.

“Very much.” You hear him sigh before moving his seat back a little, swaying back and forth.

“Okay, let’s change seats.”

“That easily?” You raise an eyebrow and you can tell that he’s glaring at you behind his glasses.

“Just take the seat.”

Shoko watches the interaction with careful eyes but doesn’t say anything. When she turns to face the board, she notices Yaga staring at the two of you with something she couldn’t quite understand at the time, but she remains quiet nonetheless.

But then you turn seventeen, and you still think Gojo is just as annoying—idiotic, even.

You know you shouldn’t make him feel worse than he already feels, but Suguru was a dear friend of yours and the fact that Satoru couldn’t make him stay—despite it not being his responsibility made you feel like shit. So you storm to his room, you bang at the door and open it before he can even get out of his bed.

“You’re an idiot.” Satoru’s never seen you this heartbroken, but his eyes are puffy too and you should’ve stopped—you should’ve just left his room, but you didn’t. “You’re an idiot, you’re a horrible person!” And the louder you got, the closer Gojo stepped towards you.

“You think I don’t know that?!” Your heart stills at the loudness of his voice. “You think I am not aware of how badly I fucked up? You think I don’t know what was expected of me? I do! But I fucked up, and there’s nothing me-the strongest can do about it!”

And by the time tears are falling down his cheeks, you are holding his face and bringing him closer to you—hugging him the same way he’s been craving for years. You hold Gojo Satoru like the most fragile worn out cup in your pantry, you stroke his hair and let him cry on your shoulder as you wet his shirt too. For the first time in a while, you both feel like kids and you don’t realize the weight of what you both went through with Suguru leaving the school.

By the time you turn 26, Megumi has gotten used to your presence around the house. He doesn’t know whether or not you and Satoru are a thing, you never call each other ‘babe’ or endearing terms, and he knows just how shameless the white haired male can be, so embarrassment wasn’t something that could ever hold him back from referring to you as his partner. But he doesn’t, and neither do you.

You sleep in the same room, on the same bed. There have been nights where you and Satoru would simply cuddle on the couch and not exchange a single word, the comfortable silence engulfing the both of you when Megumi walks downstairs to the scene makes him raise an eyebrow before blurting out a single sentence.

“What are you two?” You look up from your book and Satoru groans a little because he was far behind in the page you were reading compared to you, but he looks at the boy you both took in after the tragedy that happened with Megumi’s father and gives him a look.

“And how does it matter to you?”

“It’s just… weird.” Megumi confesses and you give him an apologetic smile.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” The softness of your voice with him has always been the boy’s favorite thing, a reminder that a motherly figure that cares deeply for him does exist.

“No, but I just wish you made it official.”

His words hit you hard, and you try to pretend like it didn’t distract you from the book you were reading. Megumi goes back to his room and you are left with Satoru who seems to be adamant on getting you to notice him, or tell him off as he breathed hard against the back of your neck.

“Anything on your mind, Satoru?” you finally broke the silence and you shudder when you feel him press his lips against your nape.

“Don’t you wanna think about what he just said?”

And as honest as you can get, you simply reply. “No. I like it this way. Don’t you?”

Satoru is quiet. He presses a kiss to your skin and whispers against it. “Would love to call you mine one day.”

“I’m already yours.”

“Then let me say it,” Satoru makes you sit up and leave the warmth of his embrace. He turns your face around to look at him and speaks more firmly. “Let me call you mine.”

You’ve known Satoru for so long, but never has he made you feel so small and so intimidated. You are barely able to look him in the eye, flushed cheeks and trembling lips giving away the swirl of emotions inside you.

“Satoru…”

“Are you mine?” He whispers and his hand grabs your face in a way that has your breath catching in your throat.

“I am yours.” You whisper back, voice so small and body leaning towards his.

“Yeah,” he breathes out and his eyes trail down to your wet lips. “You’re mine.”

The night is long after that and you remember having to skip work the next day, with Gojo giving the kids a lame excuse as to why you didn’t wake up early to make them breakfast like you usually do.

“She caught a cold,” Satoru makes his way out of the house when he makes sure both Tsumiki and Megumi are in the car and the latter gives him a look.

“She was fine yesterday.”

“Yeah, I was surprised too.” The grin that Gojo flashes his spiky haired son is too cocky for the boy’s liking. You wake up an hour later with pain killers, breakfast and a note on your nightstand.

--I’ll be back after I drop the kids. I miss you already. I really enjoy calling you mine<3

You both are twenty seven when Satoru has to fight Suguru one last time. You hold your breath as your approach the duo having what you supposed was their last conversation, and with teary eyes, you step from behind the strongest to glance at the almost lifeless body of your once very close friend.

“Suguru,” you try not to let it show on your face, but you are broken. You don’t feel betrayed by him, you never did and it was something that Satoru chose to ignore since he felt all sorts of emotions when it came to his best friend’s abrupt decision a decade ago.

“Oh, you’re here,” the relief in Suguru’s voice makes your shoulders shake and your lip trembles in a sad attempt not to cry.

“When I asked to meet up all those years ago,” Suguru continues with half a smile. “You didn’t show up.”

“I refused to believe anything being said about you.” You confess. “Which is a bit insulting to you because you took it so seriously but…” You trail off, eyes lingering on the bruised body of your friend. “It just hurt. Knowing that I was there, but didn’t do anything about it.”

Suguru tells you that he doesn’t regret anything, how he simply couldn’t be happy in such a cruel world. Satoru tells you not to take a step closer, but you see his teary eyes and you hold the cold body of Suguru as tight as you can. The empty and quiet alleyway is filled with pathetic sobs and hushed comforting words.

You never heal from the incident that happened on December 24th, 2017.

You are now twenty eight and being brought up to the room where Gojo was. After being let out of Kenjaku’s prisom realm, you rush to your boyfriend’s side and slam the door open. There he was, sitting on the bed looking a bit too relaxed.

“Satoru,” you breathe out, tears brimming the corner of your eyes and said man opens his arms in an attempt to catch you when you throw yourself at him.

“Easy there,” he whispers against your hair but you tighten your hold around him and cry on his shoulder. “You really had no faith in me?” He tries to lighten up the mood, but when you pull away and have such a serious look on your face, he almost deflates and lets himself be vulnerable with you.

Almost.

“You were distracted,” you say and grip his shoulders.

“Won’t happen again.” He reassures you and leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Nothing can happen to me,” he continues. “I am the strongest after all.”

The sentence has a bitter taste to it now as you sit front row, watching the last few moments of his fight with Sukuna unfold.

Your seat is pushed back as you stand up abruptly. You wanna cheer when it is announced that Gojo has won, finally won—but you can’t. Your voice is lost, you’re not sure how, but your tongue feels numb and your heartbeat is loud. You feel your stomach churning at the sight.

Satoru spits out blood, and Sukuna has a smug look on his face as he watches the upper half of his opponent’s body detach and fall to the ground with a loud thud. And then it’s quiet.

No one dares to say a word, no one dares to move.

It was over, and Gojo broke the one promise he kept to both you and the students.

“I’ll win.” His lifeless body said otherwise. You can’t find it in you to think of anything—anyone but Shoko.

“Do something!” You scream out to her and the woman flinches at the loudness of your voice. Never has she seen you in so much distress. “Do something, make yourself useful—save him, he’s right there!”

“(Name)-“

“I don’t want to hear it… I don’t-“ you glance towards his body once again and your hands are tangled in your own hair.

“You can’t leave me Satoru,” you wish no one could hear you, but you see Yuuji’s body flinch from the corner of your eyes. “You know I won’t stay if you leave.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[iloveroblox48]

heart to heart ❣︎

❣︎ ➝ Masterlist here!

❣︎ ➝ Tags:having a heart to heart with megumi fushiguro fluff and light angst mentions of blood and fighting

❣︎ ➝ A/n:hi guyss! as you can see this is a jjk fic its my first time writing for this anime so sorry if he seems ooc （◞‸◟）anyways this is based off that one scene in the anime i thought of this and i had to write something up because ya girl be thinking them thoughts (๑>ᴗ<๑) anyway ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes requests open as always enjoy ⁽˙³˙⁾

When you first starting dating megumi you knew he wasnt the pda type in fact the most he could do was lock pinkies,or maybe through an arm around your waist when someone was staring at you for to long.That was all okay beacause when alone he was the most clingy,cuddlebug there was.

Everytime you guys cuddled he would lay on your chest ear to your heart,sometimes he just lays a hand on your heart,you never questioned it because it was so cute!You wouldn’t ask because it something much deeper than cuddling.It was him making sure you were never leaving,him or this planet.Ever since that day he saw sukuna rip out yuji’s heart he always wanted to make sure you were really there.

Well being a jujutsu sorcerer wasnt always spending time with megumi there was training, and of course exercising curses.He always worried for you when you went on missons he knew you could hold your own ,you’ve never messed up on a mission,never had to call back up and you always won but when winning these battles you lost a little bit of your body everytime,a new scar appering some deep some shallow,it made his heart clench in his chest.

It was supposed to be a calm afternoon with him and some friends until gojo had called you on a last minute mission to deal with some low grade curses.

“hey megumi i know we were supposed to have lunch with everyone but i have to rain check..gojo sent me on a last minute misson”

“okay please be safe” he sighed

“of course i will when am i not! anyways im almost there call you when im done bye love you”

“bye love you”

You arrived to the sight and when you got there you knew something was off,the presence of the curses being stronger than gojo had said probably another carefree mix up on the paper.

“I’m seriously going to kill him” you thought

While you were exercising the curse another one appeared behind you giving you a big slash on the back.You quickly ripped up some of your uniform and wrapped the gash the best you could to prevent blood loss.After about an hour of fighting all the curses you had finally defeated them,but your body was so sore you had cuts all on your back and some on your stomch none fatal though you quickly called gojo.

“whats up my favorite sorcerer! hows taking down those curses going?”

“i just got done..tell ijichi to come get me..and tell shoko to get ready for me”it was so hard to talk when your throat was suffocated with blood

“yeah you got it he’ll be there soon”

gojo hanged up the phone,you barely had to wait considering the fact that you asked for shoko so gojo knew something was up and told ijichi to get there as fast as he could.you had gotten in the car and passed out lack of blood probably.

All you remember was waking up in shokos office on the table,the bright lights of the room blinding you.You tried to get up but she quickly pushed you down.

“Lay down kid you have a few small stitches and you need some rest but other than that you will be good in no time”she informed you

You were laying down on the table when all of a sudden the doors busted open you quickly peek your head up to see who it was,and to your surprise it was megumi he normally didnt visit he hated seeing you like this so this was odd.You sat up fully legs hanging off of the table you patted the spot next to you telling him to sit with you.He sat down and you could tell he was about to tell you off.

“whats wrong with you? you should of called somone for backup,something could have happened to you”He said concern taking over his face

“but nothing did happen to me”

“but something could of..i mean look at you”

“okay ouch”

“not like that idiot..i mean..i could have lost you”his face turned into pout

“but you didnt so dont dwell on the negative stuff”you said.you took his hand and placed it on top of your beating heart “see im right here megumi,ill always be right here”you pressed your forehead to his.

“Your such an idiot you know that? i think gojo is rubbing off on you.”

“oh please dont say that” you scoffed

Ever since that day you stopped being so reckless on missions so you could stay true to word and you did.

you were always right there with him heart still proudly beating in your chest.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

wc — 500

tags — reminding you once again as I always do that teen dad Gojo and reader are child soldiers who should be experiencing some kind of trauma from their experiences, title inspired by Leila Chatti’s poem I Went Out To Hear, an extra scene in teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together  

It’s impossible to call life with Gojo boring, but it’s what you want for him, for both of your boys. They’ve had enough hardship in their life. Heroes make for interesting stories but miserable lives. If you could spare them all that, you would. 

Sometimes, in the dead of night, you can’t sleep. You have to get up to creep into Megumi’s room, stroke his hair and remind yourself that he’s okay. Then you can’t rest without checking on Gojo, though you know he’s fine in the shared bedroom you just came from. 

He comes and finds you five minutes or less after you’ve gotten up, he always does. If you’re gone, he wakes up almost instantly. 

He always looks for you. If he finds you by the counter, nursing a glass of cold water like you always do, he’ll slot himself between you and the hard marble, caging you in with his body. You say cage because there’s no other way to describe it, but that’s not what it feels like. The pressure calms you down, reminds you that this home you’ve made for yourself is safe. Megumi is safe here. Gojo is invincible. 

He’ll run his knuckles down your face and drape his arms around you. Sleepily, he presses his face into your neck, alternating between soft kisses and sweet words. His breath ghosts along your skin, a pleasant warmth. He always smells faintly of mint and citrus, a hint of jasmine, because you mentioned you liked it once and he never forgot. 

“Don’t worry, my love,” he says, and it’s always my love when you wake him up in the dead of the night. “I’m here.” 

He’ll hold you until you stop shaking, soothed by his presence and the familiarity of the kitchen you designed together. It’s a reminder that this life is one the two of you share, that he’s yours. You picked the marble for the countertop together. Shoko gave you the glasses from your wedding registry. The white cabinets with their blue accents are your decision, because blue is your favorite color. 

The lights overhead have a brightness setting that you can dim to be more comfortable, and in his embrace, you relax. When you’re ready, he’ll guide you back to bed, still refusing to let go. It’s with his steady weight behind you, a promise, that you can finally drift off. 

[dilxcc]

chapter nine

summary. in which two friends who desperately clings to each other until the other slips away . . .

contains. fem!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, slowburn, cussing, grammatical errors . . .

a/n a bit longer than what i usually write. the ideas were spilling out bro 😭

previous chapter

a promise between two lovers can easily be broken. so what of a promise between friends?

in all honesty. satoru regretted it. he regrets saying that the kiss was a mistake. he wanted to hit himself for saying that. why would he be so stupid? and the fact that he's taking so long to apologize and stop being dumb. he should've just admitted it.

that he loves you with all his heart, his soul, his entire being. but now he's afraid that he won't get the chance when you're laying in the hospital bed, body unconscious and unmoving while wearing a medical support.

shoko had done everything she could. and she herself admitted that you would be lucky enough to pull through the day. what went wrong? hadn't he said it himself, with all bravado that he would protect you. so how come you're laying here, barely alive and depending on a machine.

his hand ran through his hair, repeating of every scenario where he could have saved you.

while his face may not have shown it, the way his hand gripped his hair frustratedly gave it away. satoru wanted to beat himself up for not being able to protect you. he felt so helpless at the moment. what else can he do rather than wait and look at your pale features?

it hits him how much blood you had lost. he sucked in a sharp breath, trying to clear his mind from reeling into insanity.

.

"hey, i uh..." he trailed off. "shit," the white-haired male cursed under his breath. he had been pacing around the empty hallway, trying to figure out the right words he should say after you come back from your mission.

his playful expression came easily when his students came running towards him, a few scratches were evident on their face. "sensei! m-miss y/n-" the pink-haired boy panted, a panic expression on his face.

satoru's face hardens when he heard your name. "what's wrong?"

"there was a curse! she was trying to protect us from it and now she's- she's bleeding a lot!" kugisaki butts in. the white-haired male quickly ran into action.

when he arrived at the scene, he could see megumi's pale face as he pressed down on your stomach with trembling hands. "s-sensei..."

he felt like his whole world had crumbled before him when he witnessed the scene.

.

he sighed once again, sitting down at the chair that he had put close to your bed. his hand were hesitant to take and hold yours. but after a while, he held it in his, gripping it slightly as if he was begging for you to wake up.

satoru would cry if it meant for you to wake up. he would even move  mountains if that's what it takes for you to open your eyes once again. he wanted to see those beautiful eyes that he had avoided so carefully for the past weeks.

his other hand reached out to move the strand of hair out of your face. you still look beautiful like this.

.

you could almost swear that you felt someone gripping your hand tightly. your eyes slowly flutter open and you looked around the room, still slightly disoriented. your blurry vision soon cleared up and your eyes immediately fell onto the white-haired male, laying his head on the bed by your side while his hands clenching yours tightly.

you wanted to move - to call out to him. but you felt your heart aches as you remembered the things that he said. if anything, you would like it better if he gives you an apology. you wanted so badly to hug him and tell him that you were fine - that the pain doesn't hurt anymore because he was here now.

you could imagine just how much he is blaming himself because you got injured so badly this time. it was just like the last time. he must have been so scared.

you stared at the ceiling as you continue to ponder your thoughts. your focus were immediately broken when you felt him squeezing your hand slightly and stirring awake from his deep slumber. you quickly close your eyes, still not ready to face him directly. "won't you wake up..?" he sighed, his hands gripping yours tighter that you almost wince in pain.

"'m sorry..." he rested your hand against his forehead, as if begging for your forgiveness. "i shouldn't have said that," he muttered softly. "i shouldn't have run away..." his tone was getting desperate, a sniffle underlying his words.

"i can't lose you too..." he kissed your hand softly.

.

xx xx 2006

"will you stop that?!" you raised your voice at him. "guys- i think that's enough," suguru gets in between the two of you. "suguru! he was insulting me!" you said frustratingly. "i'm sure he didn't mean it. right, satoru?" the black-haired male looked at his best friend sternly. "oh, i mean every word," he scoffed, crossing his arms in a childish manner.

his words made your blood boils. you immediately jumped on him, in hope to hit him somehow. but alas, your anger had gotten the best of you that you had forgotten about his limitless. you immediately fell to the ground on your bump, face flaring up in embarrassment. "ugh... i hate you," you muttered under your breath.

"i hate you, too!" the white-haired male returned his hatred. you know he didn't mean it. you didn't mean what you said either. but your ego said otherwise. the moment he walked away, you stubbornly walked the other way, leaving suguru alone in a shamble.

suguru was quick to catch up with satoru and he patted his shoulder. "why did you say that?" suguru chuckled softly. "i was just trying to say that she looks better with her old haircut," satoru sighed. "you're so in love with her that you can't even comprehend the words you say, huh?" the black-haired male teased, nudging his side slightly.

"i don't like her. i was just trying to be honest. she's my best friend, too. don't want some idiot to be bullying her because of her bad hair cut," he explained. perhaps, suguru was right after all. but he wouldn't say it out loud. he would never say it out loud. you were his best friend. what type of friend would he be if he's in love with you?

he had to be lying to himself to distract the unwanted feelings.

.

"satoru," you called out to him softly after listening to his prayers and apologies. his head snapped up immediately, his eyes slightly red from trying to keep his tears in. "you're awake," he breathed out a sigh of relief. before you could even spell out your next words, he cuts you off by pulling you into a deep kiss.

the kiss was somehow desperate, yet tender. it speaks how much he was sorry, how much he worried about you, how much he loves you. just went you were about to melt into the kiss, he pulled away all too quickly and started checking your face, as if he couldn't believe that you were really awake.

his arms immediately wrapped around you, his hand pulling your head close to his chest. you could hear the hard pounding of his heart and you smiled to yourself. "i love you," he whispered softly, his lips grazing your ear slightly. your heart skipped a beat too late at his confession. "i'm sorry," he started peppering kisses all over your face.

"you can hit me, hate me, hate my existence, but i won't stop loving you,"

taglist: @wooasecret @charisthemaniac @tw0fvced @1lellykins @dnnalssndra

masterlist

[thequeenofsarcaasm]

I “rewatched” season 2 of JJK last week. @lmskitty made me do it (I never watched it in entirety tho. I always stop before Nana and Mimi get killed)

A few thoughts and observations

-Yuki I love you girl but you can’t read the room 😭That boy was having a whole ass awakening and she didn’t even notice lmaooo. Talking about “I didn’t get his type” lol

-Haibara keeps stealing my heart only to break it afterwards. I love that kid sm

-Shoko was so nonchalant in Shinjuku lol and she’s right. Gojo looked like a wet cat tho (pathetic) Geto literally said

-Choso didn’t have do to all that. You’re 10 times older than Yuuji. Please.

-Mei’s voice is really sexy. I wanted her and Utahime to kiss.

-Kuroi and Riko had such a beautiful bond. I was in tears when Kuroi showed her the little starfish. She adored that kid

-Gojo literally told the paper bag guys to open a book lmao

-When Gojo said Riko probably didn’t have any friends I laughed cause neither do you boo

-Geto shady as fuck (I love him and his sharp tongue)

-The shot of Gojo’s eye when Geto says he must be tired is literally the most precious thing ever. Like “I never stood a chance against that mf. I’m so fucked”

-Gojo never called Riko by her first name but from their first interaction Geto called her Riko-chan

-Toji<<<< (he silly tho) He wanted to clap the Korean guy’s cheeks so bad lol

-You can’t tell me Gojo doesn’t get off when he’s in battle. Gege could have replaced the fight scene with a masturbation one. He was cackling like a crack head

-“My soul knows otherwise” will always and forever be crazy

-Geto’s body really heard his ex bf and decided to come back to life for five seconds (eww)

-Kenjaku lol

-Can’t wait for Yuuji to call Megumi by his first name (manifesting)

-Also THIS. It’s so cute. Geto was holding it at the beach

[epickiya722]

As dark as a story JJK can get, I love there are moments that are funny, some being moments that when you actually think about it, it's funny. Sometimes it would be something so outrageous that you have to laugh.

The MC was already a powerhouse before the plot really kicks off. He is known to be such a powerhouse that some people believed he's the reincarnation of Mirko Cro Cop... WHO IS STILL ALIVE. That is a real person, folks!

The funniest thing Yuji be doing in fights for me is chucking things at people and curses. He has thrown cars, signs, etc.

Sukuna's introduction. This guy is known as the King of Curses and yet, Yuji is the first person of the story to actually humiliate him. He sasses him. "It's my body!" A 15-year-old sasses the King of Curses and even after he learns who he is really, Yuji is not intimidated by him in the slightest. At best, Sukuna annoys him.

Sukuna's outfit of choice in his soul room is a kimono with a bow tied in the back. He's a fashion icon, for real.

Nanami is the one who envisions the Gojo "I'll murder you" scene. He's responsible for that.

Jujutsu Kaisen has became known for jumping. A rather smart decision to do when facing a strong opponent. Like, jump that fool!

Speaking of jumping, Mahito has became a meme. Him getting jumped is pretty much why he set out to kill Yuji and Nanami, when you think about it.

Megumi had to take tame his shikigami to control them, except for the Divine Dogs. That means he had to tame frogs, a horde of rabbits and a damn elephant.

Nobara's weapon of choice? Hammer and nails. She's building houses out of curses with some voodoo thrown in there.

Shoko got her doctor's license by cheating. But she's still good at her job.

Gojo's forehead flicks are strong enough to send someone to Shoko.

Sukuna, during the Fearsome Womb Arc, actually waited for Yuji to switch back with him instead of immediately causing some havoc. The King of Curses, evil incarnate, waited.

One of the upperclassmen is a damn panda that's not really a panda.

Because Inumaki speaks in rice-ball ingredients, conversations with him will be funny.

Geto has an arsenal of squid curses. Where did they come from?!

Geto became a cult leader at 17. The biggest question I have is where the hell did a teenager get monk robes from?!

He was also called mommy by a worm curse. Was that foreshadowing? I don't know!

To think, later, his body is put in a nurse outfit. With lipstick and nails done, too.

Toji really had beef with kids. (Teen Gojo and Geto.) Dude even forgot his own kid's name. And it's probably the most ironic name of the series. MEGUMI'S NAME MEANS "BLESSING".

Yaga looks tough and he is, but this man has a weakness for cute things. Bro makes cute, creepy cursed dolls... I think we should hype Yaga up more.

Toji actually got in a fight with Red Lobster and Miruko's (BNHA) cousins.

Jogo got to live every fan's dream of being close to Gojo and Sukuna. He also got in Choso's face and touched Nanami.

Tengen's gender is "granny" apparently. They're so real for that.

Sukuna's right hand is Uraume and the reason being because they can cook.

Yuji is a fan of Jennifer Lawrence and will introduce himself as such.

Todo really beat Megumi's ass because his type are kind people. And when he was getting his ass beat, Megumi was gonna summon Mahoraga.

When Megumi finally does summon Mahoraga... it's against Haruta, of all fucking people.

Haruta tells Megumi "Fuck you" for that.

Nanako's technique is literally taking pictures. With her cell phone. I know for a fact she runs out of storage fast.

MAPPA be devious with the openings. "Oh, that character died? They're staying in the opening." "Oh, a city was destroyed? Here's a reminder during this fire ass song."

Choso and Todo's "false memories" of Yuji. That is all.

Choso's choice of hairstyle? High spiky ponytails. And it's iconic!

If you pay attention to the Sukuna vs. Mahoraga fight, you can see that Sukuna chucks a piece of the airplane at Mahoraga.

Before the fight really gets crazy, Sukuna comes out of a building with popcorn and soda. Mind you, the district was probably closed and evacuated.

Why did Megumi react like that towards Ozawa? "Oh, it's like that?!"

In dub, Nobara calls Mahito a "bitch".

Panda wants to punch a zebra one day.

Kenjaku is a dad and a mom.

Can't believe Gojo and Geto broke up in front of the KFC.

There's a guy who wears a costume that has him half nude. And he's funny.

Look, there's a lot of things.

[fortunatelyenchantingtaco]

What a fun day to be both Gojo and Yuuta stan huh

In all seriousness, JJK’s strong suits are objectively battles and whatever the fuck Gojo and Geto have going on. Like its not even a joke, those are the strong parts of the narrative no matter how you spin it, and that’s the reason we keep coming back to it

Its a whole separate conversation about the fact that the elders hate them, that Shoko wasn’t given any spotlight in this situation with Gojo’s body, that we don’t see any students expect Yuuta object. Like yeah Yuuta owes Gojo the most and we see him care about him also the most (except Megumi) but there is a gap in the way they feel about him. We havent gotten the explanation if he was just so busy that they dont love him that much, or he was bad with them (which we dont see in any way, quite the opposite)

I do see the symbolism in what Yuuta did and i can appreciate the quite literal taking on of Gojo’s burden. What I dont particularly love is the gamble of “either he’ll die in five minutes or going to live the rest of his life in Gojo’s body” cause now its. Its a bit weird

Like OKAY Yuuta kills Sukuna. This is objectively no way to end a series. I can see Yuuji winning and ending it all, that would make narrative sense. But idk idk. Yuuta either dying or changing the world in Gojo’s stead would be such a fucked up thing to do to a 17 year old teenager. Everything is bad

Its such a pity we really dont see the narrative progress any further than Gojo Geto situation when the first and second years are technically the main characters. Them just killing Sukuna now and Yuuji staying alone would just be a continuation of what happened to Gojo. Like idk the last moment where they say that wither Yuuji kills Sukuna and Megumi together or none and Yuuji is forced to make thst choice, but in contrast to Gojo he was able to do it. That would be so fucked up after the fact that Yuuji’s motivation was to die surrounded by people he loves. Like what the fuck.

With Yuuji’s motivation it would make sense to have a fucked up scene where he sacrifices himself to bring everyone back but that would also be like. Thats the true over my dudes.

Yeah I don’t have any specific conclusions but idk where we’re heading towards. Something not fun. I wish Yuuta comes out of it all aive

[seeingivy]

I don’t know if you care for the hunger games at all BUTTT with the new movie out I’ve been thinking

Hange would have totally played Katniss early in her career and I think Sasha would have been a good Lucy Gray from the new movie :)) I’m also thinking gojo for young Coriolanus just cause of the blonde hair and blue eyes lol

OH AND yn would’ve defffff sang “can’t catch me now” by Olivia Rodrigo from the soundtrack of the new movie

omg ANON THE HUNGER GAMES WAS MY ROMAN EMPIRE. I had to put a read break cuz I rambled

two unsolicited ronnie stories to prove it:

when I was in seventh grade, I bought a mockingjay necklace from hot topic and wore it to school. but I went to private school and wasn't allowed to wear necklaces like that. and when my teacher asked me why I wore it, I looked at her straight in the face and said that "I was the mockingjay"

I used to be in orchestra when I was in middle school and there was one year where we got to vote on the song we played. so naturally, I stood up and I was like guys...there's this really underground song idk its called the hanging tree. and it litearlly won but then I took it ten steps farther and made us all do the whistle together and the little salute when we finished because naturally, I am dramatic. I am unfortunately never beating the weird kid allegations

that being said, THERE'S SO MANY GOOD HUNGER GAMES FANCASTS. this was the one I had in mind (but I love yours too!!) + it's the one fancast I chose to include in my ACTUAL fic (towards the end chapters, so we'll see this one come back)

original trilogy

yuuji as peeta mellark, duh. our beautiful boy with the bread

y/n as katniss

gale you are a lame, sack of bones. so obviously floch.

ceasar flickerman is CONNIE SPRINGER YUP

levi as haymitch

hange as effie, obviously

finnick is jean

mikasa is annie (they are soulmates everywhere I fear)

annie is johanna mason and I think that bertholdt would be a really good betee

erwin plutarch heavansbee that one wrote itself

gojo is seneca crane 😭, heavy on that one scene where hes like everyone loves an underdog 😃 and president snow is like no.

nobara is playing the extras that are part of effie's prep team or just someone in the capital you will not catch her being one of the tributes

YELENA SCARY BITCH IS PRESIDENT COIN

ballad of songbirds and snakes

utahime as lucy gray baird

young gojo as president snow (the entire press is utahime saying she vomitted after she kissed gojo as a joke and people think its real)

suguru as sejanus :((((((

shoko as tigris snow (says having to be nice to gojo during the scenes was her personal hell)

alternate (from the fic)

this is the one i'm including in the fic!

y/n and yuuji, true to the original, play katniss and peeta

(megumi and eren are the most supportive boyfriends to boyfriend)

gabi plays lucy gray baird

gabi gets to write eyes open for the original trilogy

y/n writes you can't catch me now for the ballad

they are mother and daughter your honor (can you tell im so excited to unleash my gabi yn dynamic in the next chapter)

[longagoitwastuesday]

Ijichi appeared and he didn't mention Gojo?! Come on asfbsknfkd

[littencloud9]

for the ask: 🕯️🍄🍬

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

hmm. like a 6. i like it because im a self-indulgent writer so it's like getting to read exactly what i wanna see. but also editing is a PAIN especially when it comes to paragraphs that are just like. what am i even talking about. or sometimes i skip scenes and i just stick in smth like [they talk] [funny joke idk] and having to cross the bridge i have gotten to is not fun HELP

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

omg!!! putting a few because nobody can stop me:

🐉🐯 sskk -> akutagawa calls atsushi 'my love' or 'my darling' while atsushi calls akutagawa 'ryuu'

📗🧡 kunichuu -> is this even a hc. SPIDERMAN KISS. wait but also chuuya getting flustered and losing control over his ability and he goes crashing down after the spiderman kiss

🌸🐾 itafushi -> megumi's shikigami popping up (out of his control) when hes watching yuuji because they love yuuji as much as he loves yuuji. mostly the dogs and the rabbits

💛🧡🤎 kunichuuzai -> cane user dazai x chronic pain chuuya x knkd with hand tremors. important to me

🗡️🔪 tachigin -> sometimes gin doesnt want to talk so tachihara learned sign language specifically for them and convinced most of the port mafia to learn it too

🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

oh my god UMMM okay. lets talk about gojo satoru.

a lot of the fandom believes that he only cares about geto and that frustrates me a lot because while yes, a lot of gojo's reckless decisions are based on geto and he always looks to him for guidance, it has been shown time and time again that gojo cares for many others. he would not sacrifice his students to save geto. he is selfish, but he is not irrational. gojo loves his students. he loves nanami and shoko. we've seen how affected he is at nanami's death, the pure rage at the higher ups who wanted to kill yuta and now yuuji, how highly he thinks of megumi and his power etc. he believes in creating a future for jujutsu society that isnt corrupt, one which his very own students will run. while stsg share an undeniable bond, so deep that gojo is still paralysed by geto's body even after years of not seeing each other again, he would not choose geto over what he believes is the saving grace of jujutsu society. gojo will fight and scream and sink his fangs into whatever he can to get geto back, but his love and loyalty is not limited to just that. at the end of the day, hes the strongest, and he is lonely. why would he abandon those he keeps dear to his heart? for geto? that would go against his character and the future he is working so hard to create. he can love more than one person

SORRY THIS IS SUCH A LONG REPLY AKSJAJKS

send some asks here <3

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

First off, the way you write Tsumiki is so beautiful and makes so much sense and I would die for her. Also, Tsumiki/Maki is fucking inspired. It fits so perfectly within the story and fleshes out both of their characters and I have so many feelings about it.

What you wrote about the cause of the no-contact fits so well with the Zenin how do you even come up with this!! And it also reframes so many scenes in sea glass gardens (specifically, I went to double check bc I just realized that Tsumiki still refers to Megumi’s dogs by their names and they still reapond to them. I am going to cry Megumi deserved so much better). Nanami is absolutely insane in the best way for demanding half custody like he seems like he’d be willing to throw hands over it regardless of the cost to himself and it’s so perfect with how much he (like Gojo) believes so much in protecting children. I have more words to say but not the brainspace to say them bc it is late at night for me. But! I would die for you and your writing thank you so much for getting into jjk

I’m soo glad that y’all liked Tsumiki/Maki too. The versions of them that live in my head just fit together like puzzle pieces. They were each other’s foil and they understood the other all the more for being what the other had chose not to be. Tsumiki had chosen her sibling and Maki had chosen herself, and both of them know what it means to have those be mutually exclusive.

Also the version of Tsumiki that lived in my head violently hates the Zenin and I could not imagine anything more attractive to Maki. Tsumiki would firebomb their compound without hesitation or regret. Maki wants to kiss her on the mouth.

Tsumiki very purposefully was designated as the character who would keep calling the dogs by their names, because she’s the one who most aggressively tries to insulate Megumi from the effects of the jujutsu world on him.

Tsumiki knew Kuro and Shiro longer than anyone. She remembers when Megumi first summoned his puppies. She knows exactly how much he loves them and she knows exactly how badly he must have been hurt to push him to never call them by their names again. Those dogs mean the world to him, and she knows it.

In her mind, what Megumi lost wasn’t his love for his dogs. If he lost that, she thinks he’d be more willing to call them by their names—names are just easy ways of distinguishing them, after all. They’re already named. He’s only inconveniencing himself by never saying their names aloud.

She thinks Megumi stopped calling them by name as a way of protecting them from the Zenin clan.

He never saw his family again, is the thing, but the Zenin have always existed on their periphery. They know that the Zenin haven’t lost interest in him. Gojo tries to shield them (but mostly Megumi) from as much of the Zenin as possible, but they know that the Zenin have been prodding them for more contact and information on Megumi ever since Gojo cut them off. And they know that the Zenin have a lot of contact with the jujutsu world. They both assumed that, over the years, plenty of people have reported back to the Zenin on Megumi.

They trust Gojo, Nanami, Shoko, and Ijichi to not leak information to the Zenin. No one else.

She’s always suspected that Megumi stopped calling his dogs by their names because he didn’t want it to get back to the Zenin that he loved them like pets still. They’d be safer if the Zenin didn’t realize how much he still loved them. Maybe if he hid it, they’d assume they scared him off, and they wouldn’t hire someone to kill a dog when he’s on a mission or something. And that’s what she’ll never forgive the Zenin for taking from him.

They took away Megumi’s safety in his love. It became something he didn’t feel comfortable showing, ever, because it was something he would be hurt over. They made him hide it. And it kills Tsumiki to see, because her brother loves more fiercely than anyone she’s ever met. He loves in a way that terrifies her, sometimes, because she thinks it will kill him one day, she really does.

He loved those dogs enough to be beat within an inch of his life to keep them safe. He wouldn’t just suddenly start treating them like they’re impersonal weapons. They’re still Kuro and Shiro to him, she knows it. They’re still his puppies. And she doesn’t want the Zenin to get to take that from him.

She doesn’t want Megumi to just… succumb to what the jujutsu world did to him. She doesn’t want him to just take the beating the way he took it for his dogs. And she doesn’t want him to just sacrifice himself for her and call it a day. She wants him to fight for himself and for his right to live on his own terms. And she’s not sure if he’ll do that.

So she’ll fill in the gaps where she can. His dogs’ names are Shiro and Kuro, and they’re her brother’s puppies. They’re her best boys and she’ll treat them like pets all day long if she pleases, because the Zenin had no fucking right to take that from her brother. She’ll spit in Zenin Naobito’s face if she ever gets half a chance.

[cosmicjoke]

Hey cosmic! I saw your answer to another anon and was wondering if you could elaborate on this part “Now, he might not be dead, if all the clues dropped in chapter 236 actually pan out to be clues”

What clues? I’d love to hear from you specifically your thoughts!! Maybe it’s the delusional part of me but I am hoping it was a fake out death or something. 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Well, okay. Now, I might be deluding myself too, lol, but I really, genuinely feel there's a LOT pointing to Gojo not actually being dead. Mainly, his conversation with Nanamin, and what Nanamin says to him about curses being able to "bring someone back", as well as the stuff about going North if you want to change, and going South if you want to stay the same, with the heavy implication at the end that Gojo is going North, while his friends go South. Why would Gojo separate from them if he was really, truly dead? There wouldn't be any way to change, at that point. If you're dead, you're dead, and there's nothing you can do to change who you are in that moment, or your circumstances. But if Gojo is still alive, then there's a chance for him to "change who he is". Nanamin also talking with Gojo about him fighting because he enjoyed it, and how if he wants to change, he should go North, and Gojo saying "I see.", before calling out to Principle Yaga and saying "I thought you said all jujutsu sorcerers die without regret", implying that Gojo HAS regrets, and that he doesn't feel good about how he left things. Implying he wants and even needs to go back. Maybe he needs to go back so he can face Sukana with more focus and seriousness, instead of treating it like a game.

The statement about curses also being able to bring someone back strikes me as an allusion to Gojo's statement about love being the greatest curse of all, and maybe having something to do with Gojo's love for his students, and their love for him. Sukana was told that he doesn't know about love, and we see a panel during Gojo's scene in the airport with the words "The one who will teach you about love is..." next to a picture of Sukana. I know it's a totally corny and cliche idea, but I get the sense that that sentence is supposed to be "The one who will teach you about love is Gojo Satoru.". Because Gojo, despite being the strongest, and always having a sense of separation from other people, was still loved, and still loved others, and that's something that Sukana, for all his great strength, never had. Gojo might have felt alone at times, but he was never, truly alone, while Sukana has always, truly been. Shoko even said early on, before Gojo's fight with Sukana, that he was never alone. So that just gives me the feeling that Gojo is going to come back, because he has unfinished business, basically. He's still beholden to his students, because of that love he has for them. The whole conversation he's supposed to have with Megumi about Toji, for example. And if love is a curse, if it's a curse that binds us to this world, then it might be enough to revive Gojo, and possibly give him the strength he needs to defeat Sukana.

I could just be talking out of my ass here too, lol, but that's how I currently feel, after reading the chapter.

We also see Gojo smile, back in the real, physical world. He's lying there with his body cut in half, so he should be DEAD, but of course, we know it's not that easy to kill Gojo, and he's obviously still alive if he's smiling, when before he wasn't. So, he might make it back.

Others have also pointed out that Gojo's head is still in tact, and he famously told Toji that the reason he wasn't able to kill him was because he didn't cut his head off. So it stands to reason that the only way to actually kill Gojo is to cut his head off of his body, and that hasn't happened here. Gojo's head is still attached. He also had renewed CE at the end of chapter 235, which tells me he SHOULD have enough CE left to perform Reverse Cursed Technique and heal himself.

Again, I could just be totally seeing things because I really don't want Gojo to be dead. But then, I don't think so. If all of these clues don't turn out to actually be clues, then I'm going to question what the point was at all of including them.

We'll see. The waiting is hard, and I hope this isn't some situation where we don't find out next week, or we have to wait a long time to know what's actually going on. That would be too cruel, lol.

[galaxynajma]

Hiii, hello!! Gojo for the send me a character thing 👀?

Hey Hi Hello

My first impression: I thought he was good looking and funny and I may or may not have been smiling like a idiot everytime he was on screen but the thing is that I thought I would like him even more but I didn’t? ( and then I started to read the manga)

My impression now: man where do I even start? Gojo as a character has grown a lot on me even tho he was in that box for half the series he’s still and might forever be up there as one of my favorite characters ( … sadly ) sigh i remember how much i was shaking and tearing up when the leaks for chapter 236 were coming out

Favorite thing about that character: his eyelashes:) and his lips such kissable lips ( and also his gay romance with His best friend )

Least favorite thing: his personality… no I’m just kidding ( a little) Gojo wasn’t the greatest teacher he has this issue of putting all his energy on a few of his students that he sees great potential in ( Yuuta Hakari Yuuji heck maybe even Megumi ) we don’t know if Gojo ever trained with his other students ( Nobara Maki Toge Panda Kirara ) I also don’t think it was the best idea to have that old dude from Kyoto to be one of the new higher ups

Favorite line/scene: nah I’d win… jk jk ummm there’s a lot of good lines that Gojo has said

But I’ll have to pick when Gojo got sealed all of it is good

Favorite interaction that character has with another: of course I’m gonna pick Mr bangs on this one Mr " Satoru 😩🍆💦 " Mr monkey slayer

Geto suguru but Nanami is a good pick too and Shoko

A character that I wish that character would interact with more: NOBARAAAAA she’s literally one of his students ( also maybe Kirara and Hakari but mostly Kirara )

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character: Jack Frost…. JUST JOKING

Idk I can’t really think of anyone.. Gojo does remind me of a certain kind of bird but that doesn’t really count does it?

A headcanon about that character: yk almost all of my Gojo Headcanons that I said on here haven’t been the most.. um wholesome but I’m gonna change that! No talking about Gojo’s asshole here or what he can do with that mouth of his

Gojo loves cinnamoroll everytime he sees something cinnamoroll related he must have it

Geto loves buying him cinnamoroll themed things

A song that reminds of that character: Gege said once that shame on me by avicii was one of Gojo’s theme songs and I don’t think I’ll ever forget that besides that idk ( kinda on a similar topic but I feel like Gojo would listen to Lady Gaga )

An unpopular opinion about that character: Gojo doesn’t need to be perfect and make it out to be that he has done no wrong his flaws make him human

There’s more to Gojo’s character not just him being the strongest not just his relationship with Geto

Also STOP TRYING TO MAKE EVERYTHING ABOUT GOJO OR STSG WHEN ITS ACTUALLY ISN’T

He isn’t a fuckboy btw he’s actually a big loser

Favorite picture: there’s a lot of good photos of Gojo but here’s some of my favorites:)

His dumb little smile!

Idk why I love this panel so much ( it’s his pouty lips and the way he looks like he’s about to cry hmmm maybe he really is breakable )

Gojo satoru with Catoru