Anyway, because I'm considered a bigger creator within the mogai community and I have a responsibility to address things given my bigger audience-
Please remember that Tumblr, especially LGBT Tumblr concerning discourse and intracommunity issues, is a hyper niche, reactive, violent, sensitive community with next to zero basis in reality at large and you should not take any of its opinions as absolute fact. Especially the mogai community's opinions.
A lot of people on mogai Tumblr talk big game with very clearly fake the-whole-bus-clapped stories about the real world concerning acceptance towards mspec monos, Neopronouns and Xenogenders and it's my job as an adult and guiding voice to remind people these experiences may happen but rarely do and you absolutely should not just tell random people you use purr/purrs pronouns or your a bi gaybian or you identify as Chronosian or other things like that because it's really fucking dangerous even in hyper progressive places like new york, cali and Detroit. It can be deadly in many many small towns, including ones in progressive states. Especially dangerous in non accepting states.
I don't say this to burst your bubble or ruin your hopeful world view but many stories of acceptance are fake, even if some are true, most of the community is underage and just cause your teacher may approve of your Soniccharic identity, doesn't mean they won't tell your transphobic parents. It's scary and dangerous out here for trans and gay people rn and I won't be one of the idiots who tell you to run and frolic with your Xenogender pins Infront of increasingly hostile transphobes. I want the younger gen z trans people to survive and I won't lie to you about the reality of the battle we all are staring down concerning project 2025.
Most of the people telling these stories live in progressive states and do not tell you about the failed times or exaggerate the acceptance they supposedly received. I'm telling you from the mouth of someone who grew up in a tiny town in South Ohio with less than 1,000 people, it's still just as dangerous as it was 10 years ago. I still get followed in my home town. I still get stares in my home town. My actual home town, a place I grew up in where people knew me as the gnc dyke for a good while in my last 2 years of school. Do not spread this shit around to everyone. Nex didn't think they would become a victim, Brianna didn't think she would be one of the unlucky ones, plenty of those we've lost did not think they would die in hate crimes. I almost died in two of the hate crimes I've experienced.
You need to be really fucking careful and although I love than Neopronouns and Xenogenders are becoming more accepted by the larger LGBT community, you need to be very very VERY careful about what you do, what you wear and who you tell what because word spreads fast in suburbia and hate spreads faster. You do not want to be wearing a pin the day some white cishet magat decides he's tired of the "pedophiles" and chooses you as the first victim because you were the first he saw. Don't hide who you are but Be. Fucking. Careful.
yknow i think a lot of the really far-gone transfemme vs transmasc people who still play by the 6th grade milquetoast "trans women are targeted way more than trans men cause femininity is bad and masculinity is good In Our Society, so trans men get free acceptability passes" feminism forget that trans men/transmascs started life. as. little girls. we were mistaken, from birth, for baby girls. and we were raised by our parents to believe that we were little girls.
a lot of trans men and transmascs then grew up to be teenaged girls
a lot of trans men and transmascs were adult women too
and for a while we *believed* we were girls and women. some of us even WISHED we were girls and women (points at myself). and much more importantly, we were continually seen as girls and women. a lot of the time, we are STILL seen as girls and women, even with full fuckin beards and baritone voices. especially if we need to go to any kind of medical professional. this is what our free acceptability pass looks like?
its just so much more nuanced than these 'boys vs girls' people ever seem to care to think about. even binary trans folks dont have the same sense of cisgendered binary that cis people do. we literally cross from one fake end of the fake-binary to the other. thats where the trans in transgender comes from. i dont know how some other trans folks seem to forget that?? i don't know how, somewhere along the line, we forgot that trans men and transmascs also directly suffer under misogyny?
so. almost done with the heel turn of the second sock (meaning just another hour at most of knitting left) and just realized that i knit the second sock with one stitch more per needle than i did the first. last pair of socks was 14 stitches per needle, this pair was supposed to be 13. the gauge is 7 stitches per inch (3 stitches per cm) so this is an extra half inch larger in circumference.
im so over craving deep friendships and being known/understood and shit like its so annoying hearing myself talk or confiding in people.. last time i saw a friend he talked for 4hours non stop and asked me a grand total of 1question and i had SUCH a good time just listening and hearing him and not speaking about me just answering his stories
“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.”
From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure.
“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?”
The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off.
“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.”
(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity).
You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.”
You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him.
And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do.
“Do I get any final requests?”
“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?”
Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible.
Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale.
This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both.
“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade.
You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it.
“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.”
You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam.
“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.”
I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real
UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!
⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)
⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)
⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.
⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”
⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”
⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”
⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.
⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.
⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.
⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.
⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.
⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.
⋆˚✿˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”
⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.
⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.
⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.
⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.
⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”
⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.
⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.
⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.
⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”
⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”
⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.
⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.
⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.” abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”
⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.
⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.
⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.
⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.
⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?
anakin would be absolutely ruthless too. he has your head stuffed into the pillows, his big hand pushing your head down as he fucks you relentlessly. i feel like he’d get you so close to finishing and he’d pull out just to fuck with you. you pissed him off so much he’s practically using you just for his own pleasure, to make himself feel better.
— link.
i was actually commentating on how anakin would use sex specifically to make you think he's sorry when that couldn't be further from the truth. he only apologizes when he knows he's in the wrong, and a lot of the time he believes himself to be in the right— contrary to how you perceive it.
he'll distract you from how cross you are with him because in your opinion he was in the wrong. so i don't doubt he fucks you like an animal. fucks you like youre a slut underneath him. fucks you so good you're brain fried because that is exactly his purpose. because he still doesnt believe he was in the wrong, wont admit it, and won't apologize for it. laying terrific pipe was merely a diversion so you'd forget to force him to lie to you, and say he regrets whatever action caused your discrepancy with him. and using you for his own pleasure is definitely a very on-brand and normal thing for him to do. the bottom line is is that you're into that, and he does his best work to you chasing his own pleasure. i swearr
if he's the one mad at you because of your mistake, i can definitely see him considering not letting you finish. but it wouldn't get past threatening dirty talk. when i picture anakin and his relationship with sex, flat out orgasm denial would not agree with him no matter how angry he is with you. edgeplay is fine, it's complete dissatisfaction that he has a problem with. for him, finishing is a healthy and necessary part of intercourse, and he thinks of it pretty transactional-ly in the sense that if he's already gone through the extensive work for him to have sex with someone, and accept them as a partner, i doubt he'd have an easy time walking away from them when he's fucked them to his own completion, but not theris. he believes it reflects poorly on him as a lover, even if he's upset with you for a mistake you made. and yes, he's prone to using your body to make himself feel better and this extends to any number of things. this is my personal interpretation of his character ofc. great ask!
this most definitely isnt an original thought and i've probably heard it on a podcast before but. i am so married to todd's sweaty tooth madman poem being a metaphor for not accepting being gay.
so here's me picking the whole thing apart (and not proofreading anything)
so starting with
the sweaty toothed madman of course being walt whitman, who we all know is (at least rumoured to be) gay. now the interpretation of whitman being a metaphor for todd's sexuality is nothing new, but i'd like to expand on it.
"i close my eyes and this image floats beside me"
i see this as any moment todd has to himself, no matter where he is, he is reminded whitman/ the fact that he's gay. the specific usage of closing your eyes to mean that the image/ reminder is always there, always following. i see the use of the words "beside me" in a couple different ways. either to suggest that the reminder is just out of view, being pushed away just enough to not be the main focus and more something you see in your peripheral, or in a 3rd person perspective, seeing todd and the imagery of walt beside eachother, coinciding with eachother. i could see both interpretations working equally as well, or even comined.
"the sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain"
THIS LINE. i loooove his use of sweaty toothed!!!!!
if you're not sure what sweaty toothed means, it just kinda means ur teeth r. wet. drooly mouth. i see this madman being sweaty toothed to mean that he's "hungry", not literally, but more desiring something. this being truth, which i'll get into later.
the stare that pounds my brain. oh man. ok so obviously this means that the image/ thought is intimidating, terrifying, threatening. the implication that todd being gay is as much of a threat to his life/ wellbeing as a madman that has it out for him, both ideas causing him an insane amount of stress.
this line is fairly simple to me, the reminder goes from something that terrifies you but ultimately can go unacknowledged, to a constant, overbearing thought that suffocates you enough that you HAVE to face it in some way or another. todd is facing it fearfully, letting it take control of him and how he acts rather than tackling the idea himself. he is defenseless against this part of him
truth (ur gay)
todd thinkin this truth will leave him unsatisfied in life :-( not only in the love sense tho! with his family too, if they find out god forbid, theyll surely view him differently and cast him off even farther than they already do. i also like to think this is him lowkey complaining that the blankets at welton are too small.
this also, devastatingly enough, reminds me of the bit from rocketman where elton comes out to his mom.
clip from rocketman (2019)
and he's mumbling. he's mumbling! this truth is still cloudy, not full realised, still being pushed away. whitman wants the truth, todd wants the truth, but he's still not ready, everything's still uncertain. this uncertain truth could also pertain to todd's feelings toward neil specifically, but i dont think that was the intention. todd does exist as his own person!
this ones simple again. you can fight off your feelings and sexuality all you want but it still wont really lead you anywhere you wanna be. you either end up marrying someone you dont love (women), or you end up alone. also the heavy emphasis on physical violence toward the Truth Blanket could be a metaphor for the physical danger todd would be in if anyone found out, but im not hellbent on that idea.
god. "from the moment we enter crying, to the moment we leave dying," is a BEAUTIFUL way to convey "your entire life" todd you have such a way with words. anyway. i take this as something like. this is something you're born with and cant change, todd was born gay, obviously, and it will never go away with any amount of effort. hence the wailing, crying, and screaming.
also i view the specific line of "it will just cover your face" in a couple different ways. either to mean this truth will suffocate you no matter what you do, or this truth will leave you needing to hide major parts of yourself from the world.
this got a bit repetitive, i apologise. but i still have more to say.
some parts of this poem i find to be a bit too wordy to have been come up with on the spot. do i think todd is talented enough to do so? absolutely! but i just dont think that's the case. i have no doubt in my mind that a LOT of what he said in front of the class was either already on his mind, or was written down beforehand but eventually scrapped.
specifics i have in mind are the concepts of a sweaty toothed madman and a blanket that leaves your feet cold. i dont think this sweaty toothed madman was written specifically with whitman in mind, i think it was just a vessel for his anxiety generally. but the blanket i just KNOW was thought out and written down with the intention to like. be a metaphor for being unsatisfied.
and that only makes the class laughing at that line that much worse, no wonder he wanted to stop! not only was todd incredibly brave for continuing after, but keating was unimaginably quick to get the focus back to the poem. he knew that metaphor meant something to todd, and choosing to expand on that was actually an amazing way to drive that home.
either way, todd's far more brave than i ever could be. i'd be shitting myself up there.
also if u disagree with any of these points are wanna add anything then TELL MEEEE!!! art is anything but subjective and i looove seeing how you guys view things like this.
Dad!Gojo x fem!reader // fluff, little angst towards the end // 547 words // Gojo is a girl dad😆 // tsumiki & megumi both included
Gojo thinks he shouldn't meddle with other people's business since he can do whatever he wants as the strongest - he took one chance with Megumi and Tsumiki and even if he won't ever admit it out loud, he definitely thinks he won the lottery for that.
Gojo is a girl dad. That much was clear when at the age of 17 he had walked in with two children and immediately formed a special bond with the 7 year old girl.
Although, on the first day you had officially adopted Megumi and Tsumiki you had given them a long talk, explaining how you and Gojo were not their new parents or replacements for their parents but were simply their guardians who will take care and guide them. However, all those efforts were thrown out the window two months later when Tsumiki had shyly approached Gojo one day asking him if he would attend parents career day with her. Gojo had initially hesitated about accepting the offer, knowing that walking into her school as a high schooler calling himself her dad and even using that as a career wont set the best impression. But, once Gojo noticed her lightly flushed skin as she fiddled around with her fingers shyly he had agreed to go to school with her, “just this one time.” He thought.
Soon that ‘one time’ grown into a second, third and countless more times. He chuckles to himself as he looks back at that day. Now it’s Tsumiki’s graduation from middle school and he’s tying his tie properly trying not look like a ‘homeless bum’ according to you.
And before she even got up on stage he was the already loudest parent in the room, cheering even louder when Tsumiki proudly walked on stage with her little hat and gown and it made you laugh when you saw how your once shy and moody daughter had turned into such confident and bright girl.
There was also no doubt that you and Megumi had grown closer, even if you denied the fact that you don’t play favourites, megumi was clearly yours so, Gojo in return had naturally grown closer to Tsumiki simply because she was kind enough to respond to his idiotic ‘jokes’ and even going as far to comfort him when he’s butt hurt by yours and Megumis lack of reaction to them.
So on Tuesdays and Wednesdays when you picked up Megumi to go to the field with him for baseball practice after school - Gojo would leave work early to pick up Tsumiki so he could take her out.
Together they had countless shopping sprees, salon trips, sometimes even staying home to have a ‘spa day’ which was just Gojo sitting pretty and getting his nails, makeup, and hair done by Tsumiki and even if the nail polish was smudged, a new bald spot formed on his head and your very expensive make-up was completely destroyed (which gojo would have to replace later) you had no choice but to not be mad when you came home to the sight of your boyfriend and all dressed up looking pretty.
Now he sits there and watches Tsumiki’s lifeless body lay still, unable to help her. He blames himself for this, thinks he should be able to help her as the strongest. There is nothing he can do but cling onto the good memories, trying to convince himself that this is just a bad dream he would wake up from but everything feels too real as yours and Megumi’s silent sobbing grows louder.
Sorry this is so short, my brain is literally so burnt out w all the school work here is some of my other work 💓