#i cant write for shit these days so this means a lot šŸ„¹ THANK U šŸ™šŸ™šŸ˜­
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saeist Ā· 2 years ago
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I was going to say "no no, there's no need to lock you up" but ykw?
You're under arrest for writing so well, making me a sae simp, and sometimes being the reason I'm smiling down at my phone in public šŸ”«
šŸƒšŸ»šŸƒšŸ»šŸƒšŸ» uh oh here come the popo šŸ‘®ā€ā™‚ļø šŸš”šŸšØ
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rowarn Ā· 1 year ago
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HI !!! i just wanted to tell you that your new ghost fic is SO INSANELY GOOD. like. wow. the amount of dedication and effort you put into the fic clearly shows through how beautifully constructed it is. it was such an emotional ride and i cried SO HARD when simon was being mean to reader like YOU CANT JUST SAY THAT ! but im happy simon apologises especially considering how hard it is to show vulnerability. reader was written in such a relatable manner i could literally see myself in the fic as i read through it YOU DID AMAZING. AND THE SMUT!! SCREAMS ITS SO GOOD i was giggling and kicking my feet AAND WHEN SIMON GOT MEAN!! the way he was snarling LIKE PHEW! sorry i was just so excited for the fic AND THE END RESULT JUST EXCEEDED EVERYONE'S EXPECTATIONS FOR SURE. i am gonna be thinking about it the whole day :( will probably reread too because its like 1 am here BUT ANYWAYS . you did absolutely amazing and i hope you are proud of yourself !! give yourself a treat you deserve it >:3
AHHH THANK U SO MUCH FOR SUCH KIND WORDS IT RLLY MEANS A LOT !!!!
i'm glad that i was able to make the readers cry bc i did cry myself while writing it šŸ„¹ simon was so mean that i thot ppl were gonna be like HES IRREDEEMABLE but it seems a lot of ppl were mad at both him AND reader LMAO šŸ˜­ i'm glad ppl found the reader relatable regardless of how....messy they were in the head for a good while.
i was havin to do LAPS while writing the smut bro šŸ˜­ when he started bein all commanding and shit i was like DAMN he's so dreamy i was truly in love with PLM!simon for the whole fic what a man!!!!!!
BUT THANK U FOR READING IT AND TSKING THE TIME TO SEND ME AN ASK ABT IT HEHE <33333
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maiverie Ā· 1 year ago
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Hahahaā€¦ heyyyā€¦
Long time no talk maiverie šŸ˜œā€¼ļø I totally like didnā€™t disappear off of the Earth of Tumblrā€¦ or did I.?? šŸ˜³šŸ˜³ I REALLY REALLY MOST DESPERATELY hope that youā€™re doing well bffl!! I WILL ALWAYS RESPOND TO YOU FROM NOW ON UNTIL I FEEL LIKE ITS TIME FOR ME TO JUMP INTO MY DARK HABIT OF GHOSTING TUMBLR šŸ˜ššŸ«¶ BIG NEWS. Iā€™m nglā€¦ but Iā€™m kind of leaning towards Heeseung bias.. BUT. Jake will always be ma numba 1 hyperpuppy boy ā˜ļøI KNOW.. WHO THE HELL AM I?1!?1 I DONT EVEN KNOW ME ANYMORE T-T ! MY WHOLE BLOG IS DEDICATED TO THAT MANSā€¼ļø
ANYWAYS DID YOU HEAR BOUT THAT P1HARMONY CONCERT?1!1? AND REX ORANGE COUNTY AND LAUV TOO?1!1? THERE ARE SO FUCKING MANYPEOPLE TOURING AUSTRALIA ITS SOOOOOO UNBELIEVABLE !!! I LITERALLY BARELY LISTEN TO THEM BUT I WANNA GO SOOOOO BAD šŸ˜«šŸ˜« but like what the hell I dont get paid enough to even afford those tickets šŸ˜Ÿ
I have no excuse to run away from you anymore. I hope you didnā€™t feel lonely :( ENOUGH OF DAT GLOOMY SHIT!! IM SO GLAD YOU HAVE SO MANY MOOTS NOW!! YOUVE GROWN SO MUCH ON THIS PLATFORM AND IM GENUINELY SO PROUD OF YOU T-T I will now be off to go read your works until like 3am and shed tears (+repost, like, let the whole world know and shed some more tears) I LOVE YOU LOADS MAIVERIE!! šŸ¤ ALSOOO HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY??? IK IM LIKE 5 MONTHS LATE BUT ITS WHATEVERā€¦ MUCH LOVE šŸ„°
- from dat bitch that always dips
SHUT THE FUCK UP SELENA YOURE HEEEREEEE???? šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ im actually gna kms i missed u a lil too much iā€™m gna cry šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­
KSJEKSJWLWIJDAKADKA i didnā€™t actually expect a reply CMONNNN itā€™s been months ā˜¹ļøšŸ’– (i ghosted tumblr too for a few months but itā€™s okay we both have our faults and weā€™re still perfect amazing sexy ppl šŸ«‚) ALSO SHUT UPPPP THAT IS THE BIGGEST NEWS EVER IAKEKWLFJLSS IM CRYYINGGGF idk if u rmb but i used to be jay biased šŸ˜­ you šŸ¤ me šŸ¤ succumbing to heeseung BUT PSLSSS HELPP IM SO EXCITED FOR U (i can finally call u my fave heetual šŸ˜½) SO WHAT CHANGED UR MIND ?? WAS BITE ME THE FINAL STRAW ?? šŸ¤­
OH MY GOD I DIDDD šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ iā€™m literally confused bc at first it was that NOBODY was coming to aus and suddenly everybody and their dog wants to come šŸ˜­ also niki is coming?? taylor swift?? CHARLIE PUTH??? like hold upppp šŸ˜­šŸ˜­
šŸ„¹šŸ„¹ NO BC SHUT UP WHY DID UR LASK GEN MAKE ME WANNA KMS IN A HAPPY SAD WAY IM šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ NOOOOO BC U ARE MY DAY 1 šŸ˜­šŸ’–šŸ«µ I LOVE U SM WTH this acc has definitely grown a lot since the beginning but it makes me so proud and happy that you were a part of that šŸ˜­ nothing makes me happier than interacting w u so tysm for popping in ā˜¹ļøšŸ’— also it literally is so late GO TO SLEEP youā€™re like an hr ahead of me which means itā€™s 3:30???!!!!!$&ā€&:&;ā€ btw as i was typing this i saw ur rb on bite by bite STOPP WHY ARE U READING IT GO AWAY šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ naur cos itā€™s so different from my usual writing style BUT PLS IM GLAD IT WAS OKAY šŸ˜­šŸ’–šŸ’–šŸ’–šŸ’ž
anyway i miss u i love u HAPPY BELATED VALENTINEā€™S DAY thank you for stopping by MWAH MWAH MWAH appreciate u loads šŸ˜½šŸ˜½ hope u are keeping warm for winter && work + uni are going well šŸ˜µā€šŸ’« vvvv exciting news that u r now heeseung biased I CANT BE MORE PROUD šŸ¤­šŸ˜ˆ love u long long long time my fave KEEP SAFE PLEASE EAT WELL STAY HEALTHY BE HAPPY && AND I WILL BE HAPPY šŸ’•šŸ’žšŸ’“šŸ’—šŸ’šŸ’˜šŸ’–
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seiwas Ā· 1 year ago
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niku am crYEN RN READING UR RevIEW plSLSJSKZNAA šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­
u calling my writing beautiful šŸ„¹šŸ„¹šŸ„¹ have u seen urs!!! šŸ«  captivating pFT idk what to do w myself niku !!!! iā€™m blushin !!! šŸ„¹
the beach scene was such a joy for me to write too!! i was smiling the entire time!! i rlly wanted to capture gojo feeling the force of everything for the first time!! (or at least realizing it!! like ā€˜why am i noticing it now?ā€™ ā€˜was that always there before?ā€™) and normally i think these things come out much earlier on in relationships (like the crush stage or smth!) but bc theyā€™ve known eachother for so long, their timelineā€™s all wonky and it hits him full force !!!
and the photo!!! dw šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ i was cryin too šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ after writing it i had to hug myself šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ i think more than the relationship between reader n gojo i tried to inject a lot of portions pertaining to that too!! the nostalgia and the history of everyone šŸ¤§ bc i think, u know. even if itā€™s done and theyā€™re moving on, i donā€™t think itā€™ll ever be forgotten ? or likeā€”it isnā€™t that easy to separate themselves from it. u put it perfectly!! the memories of them remain ā˜¹ļø
and that line omgā€”there is only inevitability šŸ˜­ thatā€™s so them niku!!!!
tbh if the col universe expands more i actually see yuuji n reader having a rlly nice relationship šŸ„ŗ kind of like another megumi except yuuji is yuuji so heā€™s more reciprocating šŸ„ŗ and overall lively šŸ„ŗ and more of a threat to ur time w gojo bc heā€™ll always be wanting to hang out! or smth! and OFC gojo gets jealous šŸ˜­
yesā€¦ consummate,,, gojo is annoyingā€¦ like thatā€¦
and yes the fight niku omg šŸ˜­ the whole extended cut is rlly more a gift to u than anything!! the whole tone of it wouldnā€™t have worked with ā€˜so this is what it meansā€¦ā€™ (which is why i only included a portion of it) but then i thought: niku would wonder abt what was rlly said tho!!! so i just decided to complete the whole thing and release it as smth separate!!! šŸ¤§šŸ«£šŸ„¹ but iā€™m so glad that u still enjoy his characterisation to this day!!! i was so worried that i removed the very thing that made col gojo, col gojo bc i developed his character a lot from the previous installments to this one now (and i was scared itā€™d be a big jump šŸ˜­) but for u to say that it still feels natural, having peeled his layers bit by bit like this iā€™m šŸ„¹šŸ„¹
omg the fact that youā€™ve thought abt col more than once w that song šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ thatā€™s going to the col playlist for sure!! iā€™m listening to it rn!!! tears in my eyes!!
AND YES šŸ˜­ i rlly wanted gojo to say it completely unplanned n almost like he doesnā€™t even realize it šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ itā€™s a very time-stops moment for him
NIKU U KNOW I CANT WRITE SM*T FOR SHIT šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ i really tried to push it with this šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ this is the best i can do i think . I mentioned it to an anon a while ago but i tried to hint at them having already done it or at least gotten very intimate alr before!! so it def isnā€™t the first time in this fic ! i think maybe i hinted it too lightly so it wasnā€™t rlly noticeable šŸ„¹šŸ«£
thank u so much for taking the time to read and review niku baby šŸ„¹šŸ˜­ i rlly appreciate it aindks the fic is so long ,,,
i realized during outlining this that col reader is rlly too good for gojo šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ and iā€™ve had such a deep appreciation for her since šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ it IS funny but i love it bc i think either works for him šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ he either gets an angel or someone who matches up to him completely!!!! no in between and i love that!!!
to render u speechless is high praise šŸ„¹
And WRITING THAT LINE . I felt it in my BONES. Literally šŸ˜­šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ it was so satisfying when i got it down šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ i think thatā€™s what i mean when i mean i alluded to gojo rlly wanting reader intimately ,,,, carnally ,,,,, intensely ā€¦. šŸ˜­šŸ˜­ itā€™s impossible that they didnā€™t fuck almost immediately after their first kiss šŸ˜­šŸ˜­
i am hugging u!!! holding u!!! forever loving u!!! for being a part of col as much as i am!!! and for literally cheering me on all the time and being d 1 person i can always talk col with šŸ„¹šŸ„¹ thank u for loving them as much as i do niku baby!!!
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ā‚ŠĖšāŠ¹ć€‚so this is what it means to be in love | gojo satoru
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wc: 8.9k summary: gojo finds out what it really means to be in love.Ā  contains: f!reader in mind, friends to lovers (prev. slowburn), suggestive scenes, might be mildly explicit? (i only mention ā€˜buttā€™ once thoughā€¦), ā€˜being in loveā€™ 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!, thereā€™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!Ā  part iii of conversations on love: i | ii | iii
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ā™”
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Gojo catches onto love slowly.
He takes the hand you leave open just for him, and closes the space between your palms, reducing infinity.Ā 
Maybe heā€™s felt it all this time without knowing; after all, love looks a lot less profound as friends in your early 20ā€™s.Ā 
But being in itā€”being in love? Thatā€™s uncharted territory.Ā 
Gojoā€™s been to a lot of places, has travelled back and forth from point-to-point endlessly. Heā€™s survived battles, a war, near-death, and cursed spirits reincarnate; even then, heā€™s got eyesā€”two bright blue and an extra four hidden, ones that see beyond human comprehension. Unearthing this simple truth shouldnā€™t shake him, shouldnā€™t even faze him. If anything, he should have seen it comingā€”
Except he doesnā€™t.Ā 
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.Ā 
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 anxiety-ridden conversations youā€™ve had since you were 23.Ā 
He knows you always blink twice before focusing on him, and itā€™s a mystery whether this is a recent development or something heā€™s just never noticed, but if youā€™re trying to enchant him by the flutter of your eyelashes, he wants to let you know that itā€™s workingā€”except, he knows that you arenā€™t, because youā€™re just like that: a daydream without even trying.Ā 
These arenā€™t new things; heā€™s sure heā€™s probably encountered them all before, but lately theyā€™ve evolved into cute things, and thereā€™s no hiding the slight curve of his lips every time he spots them.Ā 
.
The sun is beaming brighter this summer, the ocean a faraway blur from the beach towel set-up you made under the shade. Going to the beach is never your go-to when you think of an extremely hot afternoon, but Yuujiā€™s been eyeing a weekend getaway since sorcerer workā€™s lessened significantly.Ā 
ā€˜Itā€™s a good effort,ā€™ Gojo convinces you, ā€˜to get everyone together again.ā€™
And it isā€”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.Ā 
When you blink, the image of them softensā€”a captured memory in the heat haze.Ā 
The only older ones here are you and Gojo; Shokoā€™s always disliked the stickiness of sunblock on her skin, and Ijichiā€™s new position has made him constantly busy. Somewhere in the distance, you can maybe envision Nanami. He wouldnā€™t come if you or Gojo asked, but if it were Yuujiā€”
You rub at your eye, resting your chin on your hand as you will your tear ducts to please, donā€™t cry.Ā 
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. Itā€™ll never be the same as it used to be but itā€™s relieving to know that he can exist living as himself now. Just Yuuji.Ā 
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.Ā 
The mind is a weird place to be at times like thisā€”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 heā€™s lost despite every attempt to avoid it.
You should have been there for Tsumiki, you could have been there for both of them.Ā 
Your guilt never leaves you even on days that shine as vividly as this, but perhaps thatā€™s the silver liningā€”that theyā€™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 Gojoā€™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.Ā 
A chuckle escapes you.Ā 
You could sort through your memories and land on one where he looks just like thisā€”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 10Ā°C.
Things are different now, evidently. Megumiā€™s outgrown it, and Tsumiki is no longer here. But Gojo has stayed the same, and itā€™s comforting to know that he will continue to be this Satoru, your Satoru, even when some things are gone.Ā 
You donā€™t realize youā€™re spacing out until he waves the ice cream cone while walking towards you.Ā Ā 
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.Ā 
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 youā€™re hiding (terribly).Ā 
He raises an eyebrow and you break character, shaking your head while laughing.Ā 
ā€œDid you eat the other one on the way here?ā€ you tease, craning your neck to lick at the bottom scoop (vanilla-strawberry-vanilla, gojoā€™s signature order).Ā 
Your tongue lands dangerously close to his fingers, and he feels it, but his eyes only land on youā€”your lips, how they part for your tongue to glide smoothly on hisā€“both of yourā€“dessert. You look every bit of an angel in the soft, pale hues of your bikini, but Gojoā€™s thoughts are anything but saintly.Ā 
He blushes furiously, the tips of his ears and nose bright red as he turns away from you quickly.Ā 
ā€œIā€™m fulfilling your dream of sharing an ice cream cone with me.ā€ 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.Ā 
You stay quiet, rolling your eyes but never meanly, no. You only ever do it fondlyā€”he knows, being on the receiving end of it one too many times.Ā 
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 itā€™s your turn to nip and lick.Ā 
He shouldnā€™t stare, shouldnā€™t hyperfixate, but itā€™s so cute how you get the tiniest bit of ice cream on the tip of your noseā€”as if it belongs there, soft and sweet just like the rest of you.Ā 
You look up to find Gojo gazing at you, eyes glimmering like the reflection of sunlight on the ocean, and a tiny smile that only widens when he realizes youā€™ve caught him red-handed. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, scrunching your nose in an effort to stop yourself from grinning.Ā 
When Gojo looks at you this way, as if you are his favorite place rediscovered, your heart thumps furiously against your ribcage.Ā 
ā€œWhatā€¦ā€ you drawl, your smile impossible to hide in the lilt of your voice.Ā 
Gojo thinks he can count every eyelash, every speck of sand dotting your face, and stil not be bored of you. He canā€™t stop beaming.Ā 
Is this what it means to be in love with you?Ā 
ā€œNothing.ā€ 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.Ā 
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 palette. Heā€™s done this more times than he can count, has already been this near to know that close will never be close enough, but you still jolt a bitā€”PDA has never been your thing.Ā 
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 itā€™s already there.Ā 
Itā€™s indescribable, this moment, seeing you in slow motion, laughing as bright as the sunā€”the sweetest sound heā€™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 wet 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.Ā 
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.Ā 
Youā€™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.Ā 
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.Ā 
The light casts a halo around you and he thinks itā€™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 himā€”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 upwards, something about keeping his baby face even when heā€™s old.Ā 
ā€œYou should join them,ā€ you mumble, rubbing more product onto the nape of his neck. Youā€™re leaning over his shoulder, neck brushed against his cheek.Ā 
Gojo hums, watching everyone from a distance. Itā€™s been a while since heā€™s had a day like this.Ā 
ā€œBut maybe after 30 minutes, so the sunblock doesnā€™t wash off. Youā€™re already burning.ā€ you note, coming back to sit.Ā 
Of course, heā€™s already burning. How can he not when the sun is right in front of him?Ā 
.
You join everyone for a game of beach volleyball in the sunset of the afternoon. Youā€™re transported back to high school, the last time you did thisā€”you and Satoru against Shoko and Suguru, with Haibara keeping score.Ā 
From the way Gojoā€™s eyes are glossed over, you can tell heā€™s thinking about it too, the memory having seared itself into your brains forever, it seems.Ā 
Being paired together should feel familiarā€”the same, but it doesnā€™tā€”isnā€™t, because Gojo canā€™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 itā€™s both sticky and slippery. He should really ask for a time-out before you blind him completely.Ā 
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.Ā 
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 heā€™s missed every pass youā€™ve sent his way and netted 60% of his spikes.Ā 
And maybe it technically is your faultā€”you and your (very distracting) little things. But itā€™s entirely on him that heā€™s fallen for it, fallen for you as much as this.Ā 
.
.
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Gojo thinks of love differently when he sees a picture of himself and all it does is remind him of you.
Thereā€™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.Ā 
ā€œItā€™s all digital now, Satoru,ā€ she scoffs, taking a puff on her cigarette.Ā 
Gojo doesnā€™t say anything even though he knows itā€™s true, too focused on watching the printer push out the two-by-three inch image heā€™s about to cut into.Ā 
Print photos arenā€™t as important anymore when cloud storage spaces are just asā€“if not moreā€“accessible, but Gojo is admittedly sentimental despite every front he puts up to hide it.Ā 
Heā€™s kept every single gift youā€™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.Ā 
When every moment is experienced so vividly, seen through a muddle of infinite energies, there are those he wishes could stay stillā€”ones that take up space to remind him: ā€˜this is real, it happened, and here is proof that it didā€™.Ā 
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 otherā€”one of his gripping tightly on Suguru, and the other hanging loosely over you. Utahime is crouched in front, holding the hand youā€™ve placed on her shoulder while pulling Shoko into a semi-squish-semi-hug (because out of the four of you, Shoko is her favoriteā€”completely valid; if given the choice, sheā€™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 Nanamiā€”sharp features and a serious gaze that you all know heā€™ll grow into someday, handsome with age.Ā 
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 foreverā€”untouched, unspoiled, unruined.Ā 
It would have stayed there if you didnā€™t stumble upon it while looking for his painkillers during another one of his skull-crushing migraines.Ā 
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 shouldnā€™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.Ā 
Gojo has many theories about time and the multitude of spaces it takesā€”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.Ā 
He only shares when you ask, aware that he tends to be a bit of a nerd about it whenever itā€™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 senseā€”a version of him not many get to witness. His explanations are comprehensible for the most part, exceptā€”
When Gojo tells you that heā€™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.Ā 
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.Ā 
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 heā€™s kept it all this time.Ā 
You tell him delicately that some precious things are meant to be celebrated, put out to be rememberedā€”to be experienced.Ā 
And it becomes clearer to him then, by the look in your eyes and remembrance soft-spoken, that what good is a photo unseen?Ā 
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)ā€”during Suguruā€™s defection, and death anniversaries especially.Ā 
The recent one for Nanami was heavy; the first time heā€™s ever been able to process grief fully.Ā 
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 doesnā€™t make it sting as badā€”that turns it into a reminder of a love that was once there, of feelings that hurt as evidence that someone cared.Ā 
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 seenā€”for this love to be witnessed too.Ā 
Itā€™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.Ā 
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 momentā€”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.Ā 
Itā€™s cheesy, but if you ask him what he thinks about this yearā€™s flowers, heā€™ll tell you none of them (not even any of them combined) could compare to you. The cherry blossoms could be gone and heā€™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).Ā 
He remembers that afternoon well: the spring breeze that jolts his phone sideways, his hand resting on your lower back, unseen in the image. Thereā€™s no real reason for visiting the blossoms on this day of all days, but Gojo doesnā€™t believe in coincidences, and heā€™s counted down exactly to a year since you both had your first kiss.
Itā€™s so silly, because heā€™s never thought of things like this before. He knows you probably donā€™t think much of it either considering that neither of you have made anything official yet since.Ā 
And he feels a little stupid for that, honestly.Ā 
Youā€™ve been sleeping at each otherā€™s places more often than not, and even though you go on these little trips that are so obviously dates, you both still just tell everyone youā€™re ā€˜hanging outā€™.
Heā€™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 youā€”tenderness caught in little pixels of eternity.Ā Ā 
When Gojo goes through all 179 photos from that afternoon, he filters out the ones to delete and picks this one out especiallyā€”favorites and resizes it to fit his home screen and his wallet too.Ā 
Thereā€™s something about the look on his face that reminds him of every time heā€™s caught the same one on you.Ā 
He slides the photo into the little sleeve behind his credit card, catching himself smilingā€”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 heā€™s fucked.Ā 
Donā€™t you know that heā€™s insatiable? These traces of you will only make him want the whole of you.Ā 
.
You find the photo while he rushes to the restaurant restroom. On ā€˜hang outā€™s like this, you insist on splitting the bill, but Gojo has always been stubborn and youā€™ve learned that you can never argue.Ā 
He hands you his wallet to pay with his card, and when you slide it out, the photo falls. Itā€™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.Ā 
But it isnā€™t, and your smile widens.Ā 
When Gojo comes back, youā€™re looking up at him affectionately, biting your lips as if to stop yourself from speakingā€”the same way he always does.Ā 
Itā€™s funny because, slotted between your two fingers is the photo heā€™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 youā€™re staring at him right now.
.
.
.
ā€œSo, Yuuji asked if we were together.ā€Ā 
You quirk an eyebrow, looking up at Gojo from the pile of laundry youā€™ve begun folding on your bed. He emerges from the bathroom, ruffling his hair with a towel.Ā 
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 heā€™s lived here just as long as you.Ā 
You snort as you fold, amused that this is even a question to begin with. Yuujiā€™s always been known for being exceptionally dense, but you didnā€™t think it was this bad. Gojo was especially touchy with you during that beach trip, and youā€™re sure Megumi and Nobara have caught up to let him know by now, somehow.Ā 
ā€œWhat made him ask?ā€Ā 
ā€œI think he wants to take you away.ā€ Gojo teases, wiggling his eyebrows as he throws the towel on the chair across your vanity.Ā 
You roll your eyes, still sweetly, indulging him, ā€œSure.ā€Ā 
Itā€™s now a running joke that Gojoā€™s threatened about Yuuji stealing you; youā€™ve always had a soft spot for bright eyes and even brighter souls and Yuuji is as close to that as anyone can get. Itā€™s not like that though; Yuuji is just like your Megumiā€”the two boys you want to protect and care for in hopes of treating them better than their lives have ever.Ā 
Gojo feels the same, you know, otherwise he wouldnā€™t have guided them as much as he has (despite his questionable ways). Still, your hands have always been gentler, kinderā€”and though shorter, have always outstretched much farther than his.Ā 
You have a way of inching your way into peopleā€™s lives that just fits. Heā€™s experienced it first-hand, canā€™t even dare to imagine what his life would be like if you didnā€™t.Ā 
He walks across the room to you, bed dipping as he steadies a knee before draping his entire body over your shoulders.Ā 
Now that you think about it, it makes sense that Yuujiā€™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 heā€™s about to do right now, he thinks, might just trigger another one to form all together.Ā 
ā€œAs if Iā€™d let him.ā€ 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.Ā 
ā€œWho put you in charge?ā€ you scoff jokingly, unfazed.Ā 
He moves away from you in disbelief, mouth open as he stares at you mindlessly folding.
To be fair, he canā€™t fault you. You arenā€™t technically official even though you have kind-of-been for a little over a year. Thereā€™s no particular reason, just that you havenā€™t talked about itā€”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.Ā 
Thereā€™s no point of contention because youā€™ve only ever loved Gojo since you were 17.Ā 
ā€œKidding,ā€ you kiss his cheek as an apology.Ā 
ā€œDonā€™t even joke about that.ā€ he huffs, youā€™re starting to take after him a little too much.
ā€œYouā€™re mine.ā€ he murmurs after, arms wrapped around your waist and legs stretched out wide to encase you.Ā 
He says it as if it is the simplest truth.Ā 
Your heartbeat quickens, too loud and pounding; this is the first time youā€™ve ever heard this from him. A part of you thinks this is just another one of those flirty side-comments he makes on a whim.
ā€œYou tell him that?ā€ you hope he canā€™t hear your voice shake as he nuzzles your neck, your fingers trembling on the pair of socks you have yet to roll.Ā 
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. Theyā€™re cold, long and slender, veiny just by a bit, and he always gives them to you like theyā€™re yours, you like to think.Ā 
Thereā€™s an inhale, a breath of hesitation, before he exhales.Ā Ā 
ā€œSomething like it.ā€Ā 
You donā€™t say anything, only nod, and itā€™s nerve-wracking. Heā€™s so nervous even though he knows he doesnā€™t have to be because itā€™s just you. And thereā€™s no need to doubt what youā€™re feeling. Butā€”
ā€œYou are though,ā€ he pauses, ā€œright?ā€Ā 
He has to be sure. This is a testament to you more than himself that heā€™s learned to ask instead of bulldozing you like he does with everyone else. Who else will he pick that up from but you?Ā 
Thereā€™s hesitation you hear that you think shouldnā€™t be there anymore; the fact that youā€™ve given so much of yourself to this man and he still thinks youā€™re unsureā€”
ā€œā€˜Cause Iā€™m yours.ā€ he speaks, clearly, definitively, before you can even answer. And you knowā€”youā€™ve known ever since that party years ago. A simple admittance: ā€˜Iā€™m takenā€™.Ā 
You turn around to face him, eyes shimmering.Ā 
Can he see? Youā€™re meant for him only.Ā 
All youā€™ve ever wanted was to love him; everything else heā€™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 overlappingā€”itā€™s a lot.
You sit cross legged in front of him, your knees touching his. Heā€™s biting his lips again, an anxious habit you want to kiss away.Ā 
Gojo has proven far too much of himself already that heā€™s serious with youā€”your kind-of-confession, that confrontation, and the days after, all the ways youā€™ve both learned to love each other.Ā 
You cup his cheeks.Ā 
A single word cannot possibly define what he is to you.
ā€œI mean, o-only if you want me to be.ā€ he adds on, blue eyes darting back and forth.
Gojo runs his mouth almost all the time and youā€™ve never heard him stutter once in his life. Except now.Ā 
Heā€™s endearing like thisā€”a version of him you are slowly discovering.Ā 
ā€œWouldnā€™t be here if I didnā€™t.ā€ you finally say, and itā€™s a relief.Ā 
He feels good, releasing a breath he didnā€™t know he was holding. His arms pull you closer, hugging you tighter as you both smile.Ā 
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.Ā 
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.Ā 
He wonā€™t tell you that Yuuji asked about your anniversary, not if you were together.Ā 
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.Ā 
You laughā€”sprinkled in love.Ā 
ā€œS-stop!ā€ you push him away, ā€œSatoru,ā€ giggling, ā€œtickles!ā€Ā 
ā€œWe have to consummate it now.ā€ he whispers, grabbing you by the waist to place you on his lap, squeezing your sides while nibbling at your neck playfully.Ā 
You roll your eyes at his antics, ā€œItā€™s notā€“ā€ you laugh out loud when he pinches your hips, ā€œā€“marriage, Satoru.ā€Ā 
Oh, if only you knew, he thinks.Ā 
The image youā€™ve planted in his head is dangerous when heā€™s this drunk on love right now.Ā 
More decades, more years spent with you? In another life, or maybe even in this one, if time permits, he wouldnā€™t mind making that come true.Ā 
.
Itā€™s crazy how much things can changeā€”for all his life, heā€™s ruled out the possibility of love ever taking root in his ribcage.Ā 
Youā€™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.Ā 
Now, he thinks, how could he ever miss out on love this way? A love this good, with you?Ā 
.
.
.
For all of Gojoā€™s life, heā€™s never had to be anyone elseā€”always the strongest, the only one. Heā€™s never had to change anything about himself, because when youā€™re the best, whatā€™s there to improve?Ā 
In a way, this is why it works with you. Youā€™ve taken him as he is, all the good and ugly and never asked for anything more than what he can give.Ā 
But being this in love with youā€”itā€™s foreign. There are pieces within him shifting, all on their own without him knowing.Ā 
How he wants to be better, for you. To be good enough to deserve all of it, and give back more of it too.Ā 
Gojo doesnā€™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.Ā 
When things are going great, itā€™s hard to imagine them ever going the other way.Ā 
.
.
.
ā€œYou donā€™t mean that.ā€ 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 thereā€™s anything else he hates in this world, itā€™s seeing you cry.Ā 
So why?
Why couldnā€™t he just shut up?Ā 
ā€œPlease tell me you donā€™t mean that,ā€ you take a step closer, gripping the edge of his jacket ā€œSatoru.ā€ your voice cracks, begging.Ā 
Itā€™s an out-of-body experience when Gojo registers that heā€™s fucked up, and he sees himself now, birdā€™s-eye-view, and thinks this is the worst thing he could do to you after all youā€™ve been through.Ā 
ā€œI need some time to think,ā€ he says, finally, the only words coming out of his mouthā€”but he canā€™t hear himself speaking.Ā 
He should have said sorry, taken it all back, he thinks, not make it worse by leaving.Ā 
He heads for the door, heart crunching under each footstep away from you.Ā 
Is this what being in loveā€™s supposed to do? Break his heart while yours is bleeding?
.
Youā€™re too good for Gojo, in every sense of the wordā€”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 thatā€™s on him, not on you.Ā 
He had no right speaking to you the way he did, hurting you with accusations born from insecurities heā€™s never before had to deal with.Ā 
He knows it.Ā 
Who accuses you of ā€˜meddlingā€™ as if everything out of you doesnā€™t come from the goodness of your heart? Of provoking you with ā€˜chasing the bare minimumā€™ as if he isnā€™t aware that thatā€™s all heā€™s given you to work with?Ā 
Utahime was right in telling you to be careful with him, and he doesnā€™t blame her for it. He would have done the same.Ā 
He should have told you there was something brewing inside of him alreadyā€”should have talked to you instead of bursting from all the things people have been saying lately.
Gojo hasnā€™t spoken to you in three days and the feeling this compares to is worse than anything else heā€™s ever had to face.Ā 
.
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.Ā 
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. Heā€™s pretty sure he isnā€™t breathing when he takes you inā€”puffy eyes and a sweater that belongs to him.Ā 
(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?)Ā 
Gojo didnā€™t have a plan coming here, didnā€™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.Ā 
When your eyes meet, itā€™s quiet. You stare into him for oneā€“twoā€“threeā€“ (can you tell that theyā€™re watery? Can you see theyā€™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.Ā 
He stands outside a few seconds more, waiting for you to take it back, but you donā€™t, so he walks in and closes the door.
Heā€™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 heā€™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 canā€™t stop staring at itā€”at you, at your fingers that he wants nothing more now but to hold.Ā 
Even with all his faults, all his wrongs, you open your arms for him to walk into, allow him in as if he didnā€™t just hurt you.Ā 
And he wants to cry, at the fact that this place still feels like home, at how itā€™ll always feel that way wherever you go.Ā 
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.Ā 
You turn away from him to pour yourself your own then he speaksā€”
ā€œYou should be angry with me.ā€ Gojo says softly, but you hear it.Ā 
You pause, tilting the pitcher back upright.Ā 
ā€œWhy arenā€™t you angry at me?ā€ he says, a little louder this time, more desperate, more pleading.
Why are you never angry at me? he wants to ask.Ā 
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 canā€™t speak any more.Ā 
Itā€™s just as youā€™ve said, thereā€™s no point being angry with Gojo when your heart can never take it.Ā 
You always give Gojo the benefit of the doubt, and though heā€™s hurt youā€”though this might be the most painful thing heā€™s told you yet, you know that heā€™s been under immense pressure lately. Stressed beyond belief from negotiating with the government on policies for jujutsu society.Ā 
Itā€™s not an excuse, you know, but Gojo always has his reasons. Heā€™ll tell you eventually, you believe that much.Ā 
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 hasnā€™t moved since coming in, so you push yourself off the kitchen sink towards him.Ā 
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 heā€™s dealt you.Ā 
You tiptoe second, pulling the sleeves of your (his) sweater before reaching up to wipe his eyesā€”beautiful and blue just like youā€™ve always known, droplets of the ocean at your fingertips.Ā 
ā€œBe mad,ā€ he whispers, ā€œplease.ā€ squeezing his eyes tightly.Ā 
It hurts more when you arenā€™t, he thinks.Ā 
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 thatā€™s all it takes for him to pull you in. He hugs you tight, arms wrapped around you, clutching.Ā 
He wouldnā€™t deserve you. In any life.
Gojoā€™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.Ā 
Your grip on him tightens.Ā 
ā€œā€˜M sorry.ā€ he mumbles, lips moving against your neck.Ā 
ā€œā€˜Sā€“ā€ you hiccup, ā€œā€“okay.ā€Ā 
ā€œStop saying that when itā€™s not,ā€ he presses against you, nuzzling your neck, ā€œI hurt you.ā€
ā€œThen donā€™tā€“ā€ another hiccup, ā€œā€“call yourselfā€“ā€ hic, ā€œā€“bare minimum.ā€ you cry harder.Ā 
Gojo knows your heart and the tears that leak out of your eyes; he knows they hold pain for more than just you but every single person in your life. You, crying now, is evidence of that truthā€”shedding tears for him not just because of him when he thinks heā€™s the bare minimum.Ā 
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 itā€”to know your heart, and all the good and bad parts of it.Ā 
ā€œI donā€™t think Iā€™m good enough to you,ā€ 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.Ā 
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.Ā 
ā€œThatā€™s notā€“ā€ hic, ā€œā€“true.ā€ you gather your breathing, holding him by the wrists as he presses his forehead against yours. ā€œOnly I get to decide that. Not anyone, not you.ā€Ā 
You kiss his lips, a small peck before nudging his nose with yours. You soothe each other this wayā€”in the quiet, swaying to your own tune.Ā 
ā€œYouā€™re good to me plenty, Satoru.ā€ you whisper, once both of you have settled.Ā 
He opens his eyes to look at you, smiling sadly as he cradles your face, ā€œI didnā€™t mean it.ā€Ā 
Whatever he told you that day, taking it all out on you.
ā€œI know.ā€ you mumble, nodding.Ā 
You always do.Ā 
.
.
.
Gojo has always loved you, in some type of wayā€”as friends, colleagues, a-little-bit-more-but-less-than what you are today.Ā 
But how he feels right now? Itā€™s kinda ridiculous, borderline out-of-hand, and itā€™s driving him insane.Ā 
Itā€™s such a simple, ordinary thing for you to do: you rush up to him, phone in hand and scroll to something you saw on the internet. Youā€™re so excited, a bounce in your step as if heā€™s the first and only person you want to show this to. Your eyes shine bright with a megawatt smile to match, and youā€™re talking so, so fast, completely lit up like fireworks in the making.Ā 
He knows you think that heā€™s listening but, he couldnā€™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.Ā 
He makes a jokeā€”completely unrelated, but you find it so funny. Then youā€™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. Gojoā€™s standing in front of you, post-enactment of some impression he made, and heā€™s frozen in place but warm all over.Ā 
Seeing you laugh like this, smile like this, being so pretty when youā€™re happy, the pounding in his chest goes crazy.Ā 
This isnā€™t the first time heā€™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 itā€™s like this: with you so bright, more than the sun and every other star in the sky.Ā 
And he thinks, this is all he could ever wantā€”to make you happy for the rest of his life.Ā 
Thereā€™s too much of this feeling inside of him, clawing at his throat, itching to get out. Heā€™s filled with it, has been filled with it for so long that itā€™s starting to overflow and if he doesnā€™t say this now he might justā€”
ā€œIā€™m so in love with you.ā€Ā 
Gojo breathes it out, as if finally being able to release it after all this time. You donā€™t think he processes it because he just stands there, in the middle of your living room, staring at you.Ā 
He looks so sweet, so sincere, and you see his heart, so big, so honest and pure. You get my flashbacks of every Satoru you have ever known, at 15, 17, 23, to now. Your laughter dies with maybe a little part of you too (in a good way).Ā 
Itā€™s not like either of you donā€™t know; itā€™s plain as day, how you feel about each otherā€”and you would have been fine going on without ever having to hear him speak of love this way.
But hearing it now, itā€™s far better than anything you could have imagined.Ā 
You stare at him. He stares at you.Ā 
Heā€™s shocked too.Ā 
You donā€™t want to embarrass him, especially if he didnā€™t mean to say it, so you chuckle, moving on to break the tension.Ā 
ā€œI can unhear it if you want,ā€ you offer shyly, genuinely.Ā 
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.
He knows he practically blurted it out, maybe in the heat of the moment, or something, but it doesnā€™t make it any less true. And heā€™s realizing that the only thing he really wants from thisā€”
ā€œThoughā€¦ā€ you continue, biting your lips, ā€œI think Iā€™m pretty in love with you too.ā€Ā 
The little laugh you make has him, completely.Ā 
The grin that breaks on his face is infectious. Gojo, who is normally so pale, is now pink all overā€”red by his ears and down his neck. Thereā€™s a sparkle in his eyes that can be found in yours too.Ā 
This moment right here feels like first lovesā€”teens first saying ā€˜I love youā€™.Ā 
ā€œYou think?ā€ he asks incredulously, joking, ā€œSo youā€™re not sure?ā€ he walks closer to you.Ā 
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.Ā 
A kiss to your forehead, tenderly, gently.Ā 
The best part about being in love?Ā 
He gets to be in it with you.Ā 
.
.
.
Gojo canā€™t sleep.Ā 
Itā€™s not anything newā€”4 hours on average, maybe 6 on a good night. He doesnā€™t remember a time when sleep ever came easily.
Sleeping with you, beside you, has helped, but itā€™s never solved the problem. Youā€™ve gotten him to a full 8 hours before, but never consecutively, and heā€™s starting to think that if you canā€™t do it, nothing ever will.Ā 
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 arenā€™t touching.Ā 
Tonight, youā€™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.Ā 
He opens his eyes and checks the clock by his bedside. 3:24 a.m.Ā 
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.Ā 
Youā€™ve always known Gojo had bad sleep, just not the severity of it.Ā 
You donā€™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 itā€™s okay, you can go back to sleep.
You donā€™t wake up now, thankfully, so he grabs his phone and heads for the kitchen. Thereā€™s a sinking feeling in his chest tonight, far heavier than others heā€™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.Ā 
The date today is October 31. Halloween. Itā€™s been a few years since Shibuya but he still feels like heā€™s suffocating.Ā 
In the train station. In the box.
In front of Suguruā€”or Kenjaku, both, whatever.Ā 
Heā€™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.Ā 
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.Ā 
ā€œSatoru?ā€ 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. ā€œYou okay?ā€ you whisper, approaching him.Ā 
Waking you up is the last thing he could ever want right now, but itā€™s hard when youā€™re also the only one he can talk about this with. When you know what itā€™s like to grieve everyone too.Ā Ā 
He has every intention of brushing it off, of telling you to go to sleep, but one look at youā€”one look at him and itā€™s like you just know. He doesnā€™t even need to explain.Ā 
It isnā€™t hard to piece together, knowing what today is and seeing him choked up the way he is. You tell Gojo itā€™s your intuition, but he has a tell, and maybe youā€™re the only one who knows it.Ā 
His eyesā€”theyā€™ve always given him away. Thereā€™s the Satoru you know, then a Satoru thatā€™s far removed, gone away. You can spot it though, the moment it loses its sparkle, the moment it turns from blue to gray.Ā 
He feels a little selfish sharing this with you; heā€™s not the only one whoā€™s lost people. You have too.Ā 
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 youā€™d like.Ā 
He moves into your space slowly, hopping off the kitchen island to slump against you.Ā 
He doesnā€™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.Ā 
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.Ā 
ā€œDo you want to talk about it?ā€ you whisper, like a hushed secret.Ā 
And he wants to, but also, there isnā€™t anything else to say that you donā€™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.Ā 
If thereā€™s a secret to fighting him and coming out in victory, theyā€™d only have to get to youā€”heā€™d be gone, entirely. You know too much of him, own too many parts of him already.Ā 
He chuckles dryly, you feel it vibrating by your neck. A step back and heā€™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 birdā€™s nest that it is from your sleep.Ā 
ā€œNothing you havenā€™t heard before, pretty.ā€
Gojoā€™s been more tender lately, especially in the night when his piercing eyes turn soft, gazing.Ā 
You pout, the same one since you were 16. You donā€™t know if youā€™ll ever get used to it, the way he calls you such sweet, honeyed things; youā€™ve only recently begun to call him ā€˜babyā€™ and that alone has been enough to make your head spin.Ā 
Still, he wouldnā€™t be your Satoru if he didnā€™t surprise you. With how he is now, itā€™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.Ā 
Itā€™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 memorizedā€”the sorrow, the pain, the joy, all the love, every single one.Ā 
He kisses your nose, and thatā€™s comfort alone.Ā 
This is his reality now, with you, and itā€™s safe.
Itā€™s good.Ā 
ā€œDo you want to make waffles?ā€ he hears you mumble, running your hands over his chest, soothing.Ā Ā 
The clock reads 3:56 a.m. Early breakfast doesnā€™t sound so bad, could also be a midnight snack.
(But he knows what youā€™re doing).Ā 
You donā€™t tell him to try to go back to sleep, never forcing anything you know he canā€™t do. Instead, you offer yourself to stay up with him, keep him company. Whatever he needs.Ā 
(And he loves that about you).Ā 
.
.
.
Gojo will forever argue that you might have fallen first, but heā€™s definitely fallen harder.Ā 
He could map out every single location heā€™s laid his love onā€”your eyes, the flutter of your eyelashes, the curve of your nose, and your lips, the same ones heā€™s kissed and nipped, bitten until he gets his fill.Ā 
Your neck and chestā€”a canvas for his desires. He glides a finger across your collarbone before lightly tapping on it thrice.Ā 
Thereā€™s the little dip at the base of your spine and your thighsā€”
Oh, he could get lost in them.Ā 
He knows.Ā 
He has. Many times.
Thereā€™s an animal inside of him that only answers to you.Ā 
When you kiss his neck and grip his back, soft moans by his earā€”short and sweet. Heā€™s a gone man, wholly devoted to you, and you only.Ā 
You breathe his name out, ā€œSatoru,ā€ raspily, and he sinks into youā€”everything, all that he has spilling in the depths of you.Ā 
How can he possibly contain all this love?
Itā€™s scary how so much of him already belongs to you, all these yearsā€”how youā€™ve been carrying pieces of him, all versions of him throughout every birthday, every moment youā€™ve touched his life and have it irrevocably changed.Ā 
.
ā€œAre you happy?ā€ he mumbles in your ear, voice deep and lazy.Ā 
Itā€™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.Ā 
ā€œRight now?ā€ you whisper back, chuckling, ā€œThatā€™s not fair.ā€Ā 
He nips at your ear, a small bite, before you turn to face him.
He supposes youā€™re right, it isnā€™t fair to ask that now; both your bodies are sore, well-exhausted, and littered with love.Ā 
Gojo is pretty in the mornings just like he is all the time, his hair lends well to sunlight as much as it does to the moonlight. And his eyesā€”they shine a different shade during the day compared to the night.Ā 
You though, youā€™re an entirely different creature of your own: a goddess in bedsheets and pillows, wrapped in immaculate white.Ā Ā 
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.Ā 
Are you happy with me?Ā 
He wonders, and you can read itā€”his eyes his greatest tell. You kiss him tenderly, lips moving gently against his. Then you smile, sincerely, before whisperingā€”
ā€œWouldnā€™t be here if I wasnā€™t.ā€
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thank you notes: to @stellamancer for being there since the very start!! col wouldnā€™t even exist without you!! youā€™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!!, to @vagabond-umlaut for being so lovely!! lifting me up when i was really nervous about this!! and to you reading this and everyone else who has loved this collection so far!!Ā  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!! youā€™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!!
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