#or what i am trying to say is that yuuji is the light to megumi's darkness.

[megyulmi]

Itafushi, or from darkness to light:

[continued from this post]

Megumi’s birthday is on Winter Solstice (usually December 21 or 22), the darkest day of the year. It is a day associated with 사유(死有) in Buddhism, which is the moment of death. Since Buddhists recognise that there is a continuous cycle of life, death and rebirth, in the moment of death, after the last breath is taken the individual is in an intermediate state between their previous life and their new life. Winter Solstice is seen as the message of the darkness, but it is also perceived as a messenger of Enlightenment, or to put it in another way, the promise of the return of the light as it is when things are at their darkest that the light is about to return.

On the other hand, Spring Equinox (usually March 21) represents new light and life and can be associated with 생유(生有) in Buddhism, which is the moment of birth. In Japan, Buddhist Temples perform the Higan-e Ceremony on this day. The word ‘higan’ is a translation of the Sanskrit word ‘paramita’ and it means ‘arriving on the other shore’. It signifies ‘getting across’. Buddhism teaches that the world in which we live, called the impure world (literally: ‘realm of endurance’), is a place of suffering. In this schema, the impure world is located on this side of the shore. The source of all suffering (the three paths of earthly desires, karma and suffering) is likened to a great river and the life condition of Enlightenment is likened to the other shore. We must cross the river to reach the pure land on that side of the shore.

From this perspective, Megumi and Yuuji are the end and the beginning of this continuous cycle.

[mysicklove]

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

DAY 15: HYBRIDS

With: Megumi Fushiguro

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Sub + cat hybrid! Megumi, AFAB + owner! reader but no pronouns, reader is implied to be smaller than him, vaginal penetration, creampie, slight breeding kink, birthcontrol mentioned and used, purring/licking/mewling, he calls you his "mate" and u tease him bout it, needy megumi,

A/N: i had alot of fun with this one tbh. but also I usually write gn! reader, so dealing with readers pleasure is so hard to write about lol. i am so used to only catering to what feels good to the character.

Owning a cat was way easier than you thought it was going to be. Well, at least owning a cat hybrid was. Megumi, your adorable, slightly temperamental, and moody black cat has been living with you for about five years now, and you love him desperately.

He stays at home while you go off to work each day, but he never complains, instead just sleeps the day away. In fact, you tried introducing him to the neighbor’s hybrid, a lab named Yuuji as a playmate, but he blatantly refused, growing annoyed almost immediately at how upbeat the dog was. Megumi preferred silence, sunbathing, sleeping, and your full attention. He was okay being at home alone until you got back.

He currently lays on the carpet, curling up in the warmth of the light, and dozing off when he hears the sound of your keys working their way into the hole. His ears dart toward the noise, and a smile creeps up his face, but his eyes remain shut, and he pretends to be asleep.

You open the door and sigh, eyes darting around the apartment to find your cat. When you catch him on the floor sleeping, you smile, shutting the door behind you and setting your stuff down on the counter. You make your way over him, dropping to your knees, and then finally laying down next to him. 

You stare at his relaxed, content face, and begin to reach out to touch him affectionately. He grabs your hand before you make contact with his skin, and pulls it forward, pulling you into his chest. Then he wraps his arms around your boddy, intertwines the two of your legs, and nuzzles his face on top of your head, purring gently. 

“Hi Megumi,” You mumble against his chest. “You are so warm.”

He nods, tail swinging behind him. “Been in the sun all day,” He breathes, and you hum, curling up against him. “...Missed you,” Megumi whispers lowly, still rubbing his cheek against your head.

You chuckle at him. “Oh whose this? My Megumi would never say something so sappy,” You tease, pulling away to look up at him.

He pouts, ears falling flat on his head as he rolls his eyes. “Am I not allowed to miss my mate?” He complains, but licks a stripe up your hair, still purring. 

You groan when you feel his inhumane tongue lick your face. “Hey, stop it. No grooming, humans don’t do this.” You try to push him away, but he ignores you, wrapping his arms tighter around you and pulling you closer. 

His purrs grow louder when you finally give up, and you watch his tail swing back and forth from behind him. He licks at your face, and then your hair, and finally your neck. You shiver slightly, still not used to the attention even after all these years. “You stink,” Megumi mumbles into your neck, using his tongue to wipe away some of the gross scents that clung to you.

“You want me to take a shower?” 

He grips you harder, shaking his head into your skin. You feel his crotch press into your backside, and you raise your eyebrows, but don’t say anything. “S’fine. I don't like it when my mate smells like other men though.” He rubs his neck onto any surface he can, scent marking you as his.

You roll your eyes, but smile. He was being strangely affectionate today. Usually, it was you who has to initiate physical contact and doting words. “Just coworkers, possessive cat. What’s got you all worked up today?”

His hips move closer to yours, beginning to grind himself on you. “Wanna do it,” he whispers, so low that you could barely hear him. His cheeks pinken, but you can't see them, so you cant tease him about it.

You move your hips backward, meeting him halfway. He lets out an airy breath onto the back of your neck, and you shiver at the feeling. “Yeah? You haven’t been thinking about it all day, have you?”

He feels his cheeks begin to burn. “Shut up.” A definite yes. His semi-hard cock continues to grind on your clothes, and you sigh at the feeling. You quickly manevour yourself to turn to look at him, and he pouts slightly, ears drooping, from the loss of stimulation. You roll your eyes with a grin, and tug at his pants. “Right now? H-Here?” He stutters, but helps you pull down his pants, obviously not too against the idea.

“Don’t get so nervous on me now. What happened to my brave cat who was basically grinding himself on me just a couple seconds ago?” You tease, kissing at his neck and pulling a small mewl from him. He gulps, baring his neck slightly to let you plant more kisses on it. He grips onto the back of your head with shaky hands, encouraging the action.

You slip your hands into his boxers and he gasps, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes squeezing shut from the attention. You pull it out, and then proceed to pull your pants down. “Hurry,” He demands, tilting your head up to kiss you. 

It's a desperate sort of kiss, both of his hands cup your face and bring you impossibly closer to him. It makes it harder to remove your clothing, and you can feel him begin to grind onto your stomach. 

You are forced to pull away to unbutton your pants, and he whines in complaint. “Such a spoiled brat,” You tease affectionately, “Cant go one minute without being touched? Are all kitties this needy?”

He looks away from you, pouting again, but you just giggle and kiss his jaw, finally removing your panties. “Don’t know. Don’t wanna think bout it. Do you not like when I am needy?”

He holds back a smug smile, knowing that this will definitely give him brownie points. He is right of course, because the next second you are littering his face and neck with kisses, while he purrs, soaking all the attention up. “Of course not. You are so cute needy.” 

He nods, smart enough to know that an argument will break out if he doesn't. So he smiles contently, melting under you and your soft touches. Finally, you grab his cock and press it against your entrance. Megumis mouth waters at the feeling, the warm welcoming sensation of your folds. 

“Do you…uh…Don't you need to be prepp–oh fuck,” He groans, throwing his head back as you sink onto his cock without much hesitation. You sigh into his chest, adjusting to his length — he was slightly bigger than adverage, and every time you take it, it always feels like a stretch, but it was an addicting sensation.

The two of you turn to where he lays on his back, and you on top of him, chest to chest. He grabs at your hips, hands shaking as he restrains himself from moving you up and down on his length. His eyes are screwed shut and his ears are pinned to his head. “Hey, relax. Why are you so tense? It’s okay for you to move, sweetheart.”

He heaves a sigh of relief, and nods, while you bring your hands up to pet his ears. He leans into the touch, purrs increasing in volume as he lifts your hips up and back down. He repeats the motion a couple of time, pants getting louder and half lidded eyes peering down at you. You in return have your own blush, its softer than his, but definitely noticeable. “I…Can I…Fuck this is so–Can I thrust…into you?”

He fumes red, and he turns his face into the carpet, embarrassed by his lewd words. Even after all this time, he is unbelievably shy, and can never voice what he wants in bed. “So polite! Must of trained you well.” He nods, ears flickering to you at your sweet words. “Of course, kitty. Dont gotta ask, ‘m all yours.”

Immediately he wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest, and begins to thrust upward. Your eyes widen slightly at his pace, and the roughness of it all, and you groan into his skin. He moans at the feeling, breath heavy, matching his pace. “Oh fuck. This. This I was–fuckkk—waiting for this all day!”

You pant into his chest, a smile pulling at your lips. “Y-Yeah?” You encourage, and he nods with a hum. Loud slapping of skin on skin fills the room, and his tail reaches up to wrap around your wrist. His cheeks are stained a permanent pink, and his chest rises and falls quickly with every pant. 

You managed to shakily reach up to his ears, grabbing the both of them and giving them a small tug. He yelps slightly, back arching, but then moans into the touch. It was cute, he was super temperamental about the black ears. On some days he wanted you to pet and rub them, on others he wanted you to pull and abuse the sensitive areas. Today was the latter.

“Was–Was fucking my hand thinking bout you. Not as good. My mate is so warm,” His voice vibrates with a purr, and you chuckle at him above the lewd noises. It was endearing to watch his body succumb to pleasure. His voice always held a purr, but he still managed to make every human like sound with the addition to the vibration.

Eventually he flips the two of you over, his arms caging you in under him, as he licks and kisses your neck. “Mhmmm. Mine, mine, my mate. Love you. Love you so much,” He chants into your ear, biting at the lobe while continuing to thrust into you at a merciless pace.

“S-So talkative today,” You mumble, gripping onto the carpet at a particularly harsh thrust. Usually, you were the one leading the dirty talk. He whimpers at the words, pressing his entire body on top of yours. He liked to be touching, and as much skin as he could, the better, but of course he would never admit that outloud. 

“Dont know why. Just missed you. Fuck I missed you. Why do you leave for so long?” He complains between breaths, his voice holding a dramatic whine to it. He nuzzles his face into your neck, scenting the area while you reach back and scratch his ears. “Why–Why…Hah.. Can’t you stay here with me? Th-Thought you loved me.”

He was being unreasonable and the both of you knew it, but today he was being weirdly sappy and clingy, so you didn’t mind having to reassure him. “Love you so much. You know why.” You feel his teeth graze into your skin, and he probably has his ears pinned back. “Ill try to work from home more, how does that sound?”

He nods, mewling happily to himself. Then he goes back to panting into your skin, licking and biting any surface he can lay his mouth on. You dont try to stop him, knowing if you do, he will probably get all pouty.

“Can I cum? P-Please? Been good, right?” He hasn’t really, other than the sweet words he has let out, he has not be gentle at all. You will probably be stumbling by tomorrow. His pace is desperate, frantic even, that makes you begin to lose your mind.

But he was feeling good, and your thoughts were draining anyways. “Sure, love, I’m c-close too,” You sigh, closing your eyes and pressing your face against the carpet as you begin to feel that tightening feeling build up.

He gulps and nods, kissing your cheek. “Inside? Please?” His words come out as a whisper, obviously hesitant about the question. He has been day dreaming about this for weeks, to finally cum inside you, but never mustered up the courage to ask. Today, he was feeling good, and you seemed to be happy at his behavior, so it was the best time to ask.

Your orgasm hits you out of the blue, and you are left trembling on the floor. Your eyes roll back slightly and you heave, “S’fine Megumi. J-Just cum!” You were on birthcontrol, it was okay just this once. Your thoughts were scrambled from the intensity of your orgasm.

His pace picks up again and you shiver at the feeling, while he lets out low mewls and purrs, happy at your choice. “Im cumming. Thank you, thank you,” He mumbles into your ear, and then latches onto your neck as he shoves himself as deep inside of you as possible, and cums.

He throws his head back and groans, arms trembling. It feels so much better than cumming inside a condom or pulling out. You are so warm, and the idea of the possibility of him breeding you, leaves him shivering with glee. He would never tell you this of course, you would most definitely call him a perv or an animal.

He collapses on top of you, practically glowing, and purring happily from above. He flips the two of you over so that you are back on his chest, peering up at him. His face is damp with sweat, and his cheeks are flushed pink, but he wears a small, content smile. 

You feel cum begin to ooze out of you and you groan. “Ugh, now I definitely need a shower.” He cringes at the words, and you laugh. “Can’t believe you hate water, you are such a sterotypical cat.” He frowns, and rolls his eyes, not responding, because you are completely right.

“Aw cmon, mate, dont get all pouty now,” You tease, and his eyes flash to you in an instant. His cheeks turn a vicious red, and he covers his face with his hand,

“...Call me that again,” Megumi whispers, so low that you could barely hear him.

You raise your eyebrows, cocking your head to the side. “My mate?”

He begins to purr again, hands wrapping around your back to pull you up closer to him. He leans in, and hesitantly presses his lips to yours, pulling back slightly to mumble, “'m hard again.”

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 — gojo satoru

synopsis. the first years find old videos burned onto a dvd of you, satoru, shoko, and geto from 2005/6.

wc. 2.7k

tags. gojo x reader, you+shoko+gojo+geto being in the same year and besties, set in the present and past, fluff

next part / series masterlist

"is it recording?" asked one muffled but familiar voice. the screen was black, the camera covered by something or someone. the pitch was marginally higher than they were used to but yuji and nobara grinned at each other as they recognised the voice of their teacher.

"how can anyone see when you're holding it like that?" this one was more feminine and unfamiliar to the two - but not for megumi who smiled sadly at the laptop screen.

"give it to me idiots," this was another female voice. there was some more chattering in the background but the audio hadn’t been picked up over the rustling of the camera being passed around. then, for a moment, the screen goes completely white as it focused on the figure in front: shoko ieiri. 

she turned the camera around so it was looking at her three peers all wearing the same sheepish grins. "you hadn't even taken off the lens cover." 

“it was satoru’s fault,” the other female sorcerer accused the white haired boy next to her.

“no it wasn’t!” gojo whined, geto on the other side of him stifling a laugh at his childish mannerisms. he looked in disbelief that his best friend was not defending him, “why am i always the scapegoat?”

yuuji paused the video to point at the unknown girl, “who is that?”

megumi hesitated for a brief second before responding, “yn.”

“you knew her?” nobara raised a brow at her dark-haired friend. he was often stoic and kept to himself but they’d been together for several months now and even she could pick up on the uncomfortable change in his demeanour. 

megumi hummed, avoiding eye contact as he stared at the paused screen, “mhm.” you looked happy in the clip, always amused when it came to winding up gojo. he’d seen it with his own two eyes.

“did she leave jujutsu?” yuuji pondered aloud.

“something like that,” he swallowed thickly.

nobara gave megumi’s hand a light squeeze, but didn’t say anything. megumi had initially been against the idea of looking through the dvd to see their teacher’s teenage years at jujutsu high - this explained why.

yuuji, on the other hand, was oblivious to the interaction, more eager to see a young gojo (and nanami too, he hoped). he reached across nobara to unpause the video without another question.

"can we just do what we actually came out here to do?” geto asked in an exasperated tone, but he was clearly smiling as he spun gojo around so the two could go back to back. “who's taller, me or satoru?" the two had been arguing over the fact all morning so it had been shoko to suggest recording it so that there was actual evidence that neither could deny.

before either could stand fully straight against one another, you interrupted with no hesitation, "suguru." gojo’s eyes widened and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his expression.

"you didn't even look properly!" he threw his hands out dramatically and you shrugged, dismissing his distress.

"didn't need to," you waved a finger up and down, “shorty.”

there was a brief second of back and forth between you and gojo, no actual words being said until his pout lifted into a mischievous smile. that had you spinning on your heel in a futile attempt to try and escape him but it took only three of his strides till he’s got you in his hold, fingers tickling your sides.

“can we go ten minutes without you two flirting?” shoko complained over your laughs from behind the camera, panning over to geto who was shaking his head with a similar look that she undoubtedly wore too.

yuuji’s eyes were blown wide when he paused it again, looking at megumi in disbelief (even nobara had to sneak a glance for an explanation because she’d never seen their teacher so physically close to anyone like that). “sensei had a girlfriend?” 

“sort of,” megumi shrugged.

“oh my-” yuuji begun to exclaim but megumi cut him off by placing a hand over his wide mouth.

“if you ask any more questions, i will turn it off.”

instantaneously, yuuji mimicked zipping his mouth, locking it and throwing the key away, settling back into his seat. the dark-haired teenager unpaused the video.

the clip comes back to life again, gojo with his arms wrapped around your centre as he ceases his tickling in full view. his sleeves are rolled up so it’s visible on camera where you had dug your nails into his skin trying to prise his hands from you (very unsuccessfully, might you add). “that was not flirting. this is flir- ow i just wanted a kiss.” 

the camera dropped as shoko laughed and the video ended several seconds later, the screen swapped back to one full of files and thumbnails. there had to be well over a hundred videos, maybe more, all ranging from a few seconds to even an hour for some. 

nobara scrolled down until she came across a clip with gojo as the thumbnail. this one, she decided.

the video buffered for a brief moment before beginning. this one was outside this time, somewhere on the grounds of the high school. gojo had forgone his uniform jacket once more and his glasses were perched on the edge of his nose as he slightly bent down to hear what was being said.

shoko was the one holding the camera again – as she often was – and the one asking questions, "what's your favourite thing about being a sorcerer?"

gojo pretended to deeply ponder the question, tapping his index finger against his chin thoughtfully. just as he went to answer the question, voices came from behind both of them: two other students began walking towards them from a path on the other side of the open field.

“is that yn and geto?” gojo asked to no one in particular. he held up a finger to shoko as his feet were naturally leading him in the direction of the two people he care for most, “one second.”

shoko panned back to herself, nose scrunched up and a cigarette between her lips. she looked like she was going to complain about gojo’s inability to stay focused on one task at a time when she too got distracted by her friends in the distance. 

"someone's in love," she sung as she spun around, pointing at you and gojo and then her mouth as she pretended to gag. gojo had already presumably checked in on geto and now his whole focus was on making sure you’d come back from the mission in one piece. in the footage he pressed one long kiss to your forehead, hugging you closely to his body. “i need to smoke.”

yuuji was practically squirming in his seat, itching to say something. one sharp look from nobara, however, and he thinks better of it. the orange-haired sorcerer went back to her scrolling, finding a short fifteen second clip that lasted only twenty seconds.

initially, the screen was dark once more as it was being readjusted and then a young male, no older than sixteen came into view with a wide smile. “i’m going to be japan’s strongest sorcerer one day!”

“yu!” you appeared behind him, passing him a soft drink bottle, “of course you are! best the world has ever seen.”

“after me,” geto, who was sat next to haibara, joked as he looked at his junior with a fondness that you shared. there were some more voices and haibara glancing between talking sorcerers but nothing overtly interesting in the final few seconds.

“i have no idea who that was,” megumi admitted, and yuuji nodded nonchalantly like his silence wasn’t killing him. even the dark-haired sorcerer couldn’t stop himself from being somewhat amused by his peer.

megumi was the one to scroll down this time. he was more methodical than nobara had been and looked at several thumbnails before deciding finally on one of you and gojo. he recognised the date underneath as a date gojo had scribbled on the back of a photo that he kept in his wallet.

you were holding the camera this time, pointing it at gojo who was staring up at the clear night sky. it was well past curfew and you were both going to be in for it when yaga found you but the conflict to come could not be felt in the serenity of the fireflies’ buzzing.

“look at how beautiful the stars are,” you said aloud, though you’re entire focus was on your boyfriend in front of you. he turned to agree (and probably tell you some random fact that he knew about one particular constellation) only to catch your sly smile and your heart-eyed stare.

there was a split second as his eyes darted between yours and the camera that he almost appeared… nervous? bashful? but he quickly recovered with an eye roll, “you’re literally blessed to even be in my presence.”

you panned the camera around to yourself where you stared at gojo with a raised eyebrow. “if you can’t handle my rizz just say so.” gojo snorted and you could only keep up the facade for another second before you were giggling too. 

he rolled closer to you so he could lay his head on your chest and you lifted the camera higher to make sure you both stayed within the frame.

“smile toru,” you poked his cheek lightly and pointed up. it was odd for his students to be watching this – to see their powerful sensei with his guard completely down, tired, and in love. gojo did as he was told, ocean blue eyes almost illuminating under the night’s shadow.

it was that moment that he had saved as a photo; gojo smiling up at the camera with his body covering yours whilst you look down with him with more love than he thought he could ever deserve.

“hey! i was watching that,” yuuji complained after megumi pressed escape, cutting the video short.

megumi sniffed lightly, but shrugged it off by giving yuuji a distraction, “you choose the next one.” this was sufficient enough to distract the minor disappointment and yuuji was quick to find one he liked.

“yn’s crying! i wonder what happened,” yuuji hurriedly clicked onto the video, invested in the life of a sorcerer he could never know.

“guess who broke up again,” shoko said in a sing-song tone as you glared at her. she was sat at her desk and you were on her bed, a mountain of used tissues behind you. your face was red and blotchy from tears and you clearly did not want to be recorded right then.

“it’s not funny,” you sniffled, “and it’s just a break.”

you mumbled the last part and shoko deadpanned to the camera, mockingly mouthing what you had just said. “still disrupting my beauty sleep by coming in my room and crying,” she turned in her chair towards you, “believe it or not i don’t just wake up looking this flawless.”

“ha ha,” you uttered sarcastically, “it’s not my fault i love him.”

“you’re seventeen,” shoko dragged out, “there’ll be other ones.”

you stopped your pity party for a brief second to look shoko dead in the eye, “have you seen his bank account? there will not be other ones.” you both broke out into laughter almost instantly, the healing sorcerer agreeing with your argument.

shoko pointed to the camera, “gojo satoru i hope you see this. your girl is a gold digger confirmed.”

the video then gets cut off once a pillow has been launched directly at shoko’s head.

“next one! next one! they have to get back together!” nobara insisted. megumi lets her play the next video, he didn’t tell her about what he knew — that he’d seen you and gojo in love and together well after the video. that you survived the tribulations that came with being a teenager and overcame more as sorcerers than the average couple should have to deal with.

“so it’s been…” shoko held up one finger, then two, then glanced to geto for help.

“three days and six hours,” he recounted, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“three days and six hours since gojo and yn called it quits and now here they are, making out at an official jujutsu event very not subtly,” shoko informed the camera, swapping the view so that it was in fact exposing your escapades at the formal event. it was nothing overtly raunchy, just gojo pressing you to a wall as he kissed your lips. still, there’s a time and a place.

“are you seriously recording this?” geto asked.

shoko spun the camera to him, “you want the camera on you?”

geto winked, adjusting his tie and leaning back on the bench as he manspread. “i look good right?” shoko shook the camera to say ‘no’ and he shrugged, pulling out a lighter for the cigarette he held between his lips. he lit his and then offered it to shoko.

just as she grabbed the lighter, a loud crash came from the direction that the two of you had been. somehow in the thirty seconds that she had been focused on geto, you two had stopped your kissing session, zenin naoyo had showed up and gojo was throwing punches with the zenin.

geto dropped his cigarette as he quickly raced to help out his best friend. shoko too followed after, running with the camera facing the fight as she called out, “the girls are fighting!”

“i bet sensei won,” yuuji smugly said as the video ended. 

nobara scoffed, taking back control of the laptop as she tried to find their next video, “obviously. he never loses – especially not to zenin naoya.” unable to make a decision with the hundreds to choose from, nobara closed her eyes, scrolled and clicked on a random video.

you and shoko were the two on screen, sat at a table seating on the train. 

“shopping haul!” you held up the bags excitedly and shoko hushed you, pointing to the seats across from you and mouthing ‘they’re sleeping’. you whispered an ‘oops’ and briefly showed a young nanami and haibara resting his head on his shoulder. 

quietly lifting up the three massive bags of shopping the two of you had between yourselves (a difficult task given the rustling of the paper), you began to lay out your items on the table. the both of you took it in turns, shoko showing off the new lighters and lipsticks she’d bought followed by you presenting several tops that you’d probably never get the chance to wear given the fact you were always in uniform.

“why are we stuck so far away when those two are just sleeping?” gojo rudely interrupted your little haul from where he and geto sat. shoko laughed, grabbing the camera to point at the two who were sat facing away two rows down. the train was pretty busy so they’d been lucky to grab the table. gojo and geto were left to fend for themselves.

gojo was peering down the isle, a pout on his lips whilst geto knelt on his chair and held his hands up pleadingly for… you two to kick your two sleeping juniors out of their peaceful seats so they can disturb your peace? there was no way that was happening.

“they’re not allowed on the adult table because they almost got us kicked out of the restaurant,” shoko explained with a tut and you oh-so-solemnly shook your head in disappointment.

the white haired sorcerer rested his head back against the chair, rubbing his brow in a frustrated manner, “the old lady started it.”

geto placed a hand on gojo’s shoulder, waving a middle finger to the camera with the other. “don’t waste your breath, satoru. they probably paid her to trip over your chair.”you and shoko glanced at each other with knowing grins before both of you started mimicking two people kissing with your hands, "mwah mwah mwah, and they're both boys."

a/n. will there be subsequent parts to this? yes most definitely. this is not proofread and very messy so if you made it the whole way ty and I hoped you enjoyed this <33333 this might be my most favourite thing to write so far

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 8: late

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

' “Kugisaki Nobara. Be honoured, boys,” she says, stance confident, “I’m your group’s girl.”

She’s so cool. '

---

You meet the girl of steel, though you've yet to get closer to her. Luckily, you have friends around the corner like Yuuji— and Megumi, too, but it's a little different with him.

word count: ~7k; tws: none for now :)!!

short a/n: hi i’m sorry i was away for so long!! life got a little busy and this chapter took a while to write. I will preface it by saying that this one is quite boring, though, but the chapters to look forward to a bit more are the two next ones!! lots will happen there :). thank you for your patience and i’m so sorry again!

25-6-2018 

By the time you’re back in Jujutsu High’s campus, night time has already shed its shadow against the world, black over Tokyo's fulgid skyscrapers like a veil, the sky devoid of any stars. Tokyo is a metropolis of glittery, coruscant lights that litter the land, with parks and crepe shops and cafes galore. And oh, how you love it every time you come back, from its 90s movie mood to its futuristic innovations. 

Dr Ieiri really had planned everything, as if she’d always expected you to be here: she’d got you a room near her office, even helped to clean some of it up, and promised you that you’d still be merely a room away from the one other female student currently in the school. Once the last first year— a girl— arrived, she’d be staying right next to you. 

“So? How long do you think you’ll be staying?” Dr Ieiri asks, “I know you’re planning on just giving someone something, but you’re going to be here for much longer, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright, but I’ll give you a heads up first. Staying here and operating as an actual sorcerer here, or a doctor for sorcerers like me or your father— it’s a far cry from the last time you were there. I won’t force you to help me when I need it, but you’re still going to be demanded of at almost all times, and I know you’d be the type of person to try to save people as much as you can. You have to be ready for that— the strain and all.” 

So she knew what you wanted better than you did. “I am.” You’ll ask that of your father later, to tell Sugisawa Third that you’re transferring to a religious school in Tokyo. They knew too little of you to think of whether you were religious or not anyway. 

“I’ll help you so you can still take things easy, okay?” 

“...okay. Thank you, doctor.” 

26-6-2018 

Dr Ieiri smokes less than you thought. Really, the night that you first met her was the first time she’d smoked again in five years, according to her. She attributed it to nostalgia and reminiscing on old memories before asking you to just go to bed— it was almost two in the morning. But you thought it made sense that the ones who were made to heal were the ones who mourned what was unhealed the most; you weren’t the only one stuck playing long-gone memories like a panoramic film on loop, a permanent backdrop in your mind. 

“You need to get a good night’s rest,” she’d said, but now you’re walking down the desolate hallways again. It’s fine— if there’s one thing about actually going against your parents for the first time instead of solely refuting them verbally in heated, mangled arguments, it’s that it’s insanely liberating. Before this, you’d have never even considered it an option, yet now it suddenly exists— that autonomy; suddenly, there isn’t a need to follow whatever order you’ve been given. And yes, you do respect Dr Ieiri and probably everyone else in your life, but you can choose not to abide by what they tell you just because you don’t want to— you decide it. No justifications, no reasons or polemics. Just pure responsibility and autonomy of yourself. You can’t fathom now, why you’d been scared of it before, or whether you’d even realised you were. It still feels unfamiliar, like a thrill, like adrenaline from treading on a tightrope above pits of deep, all-encompassing water, but in a week or so you’re going to have become used to it. 

From your room, if you walked all the way to the end of the hallway, you’d see the first year boys’ dorms. You don’t take the letter with you— that’s a bridge to either burn or cross another time, when you’re not right about to sleep. 

Careful to make as little sound as possible, you knock the door, hoping he’s awake. 

You hear his groggy steps as he seems to trudge himself along, before the door opens with a creaky whine. “—it’s one in the morning,” he frowns, “What do you want—” 

“Hi, Megumi.” 

He closes the door. You wait outside for a moment. 

Megumi opens the door again. 

“...I should’ve told you I was here, actually,” you say. 

“It’s one in the morning,” he goes, “Why aren’t…” he blinks his eyes awake a little, groaning as he rubs his temples, “Why aren’t you asleep? —no, why are you even here, really…” 

You’re going to regret your replies come morning, probably; they’ll sound stupid by then. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but that doesn’t really bother you. “I’m sorry. It’s just, um, I actually wanted to give you something, I mean— I’ll give it to you tomorrow or one of these days, but I was just bored. I just got here, and I’m just going to help Dr Ieiri with some things, um. …sorry, did I wake you? You should rest, actually, it helps your injuries heal faster; sorry for waking you—” 

“—no, not… not really. Don’t worry about that,” he states, “But you should still go to sleep anyway. It’s late.” 

“I can’t sleep.” 

He opens the door and heads inside. An invitation for you to enter, it seems, because he turns and waits for you, the door ajar as you hesitate in front of it. 

You come in. 

His dorm room seems quite similar to the one in his old home, actually, the only difference being how his room now is only just a little larger than the one you were in at fourteen. (You wonder what happened to it, whether Tsumiki still lies on her bed with her phone for a maximum of five minutes at the same time every day.) The two of you sit on the foot of the bed, the lack of light unquestioned. Just like things were two years ago. With the lights outside his window, the bustling city still abuzz with their izakayas and night clubs, your eyes can trace over an outline of his sharp face and spiky hair.  

“How long will you be staying?” 

“Quite a while, I think.” 

“...which is?” 

“Probably more than a week.” 

“Wh— then what about school?” 

“Oh, I kind of, um… threw it away. I don’t know, um. My parents knew I’d be here for a long time. I think I’m just going to transfer here. I’ll leave it all behind that way.” 

He sighs, “I know, but that… that just sounds like a thoughtless decision.” 

“The only part of it that I put thought into was whether I’d run away and live or stay and rot there. So when Dr Ieiri gave me a chance I just took it. And I’ll keep taking what she gives me. If not, then… I’ll be stuck dwelling on it for the rest of my life, I think.” For so long, you’d been trying not to do so; to not take that life-determining chance, to decide to dwell yearningly instead of live, and to appease your parents so at least your mother would have that sliver of assurance, but not anymore. They wouldn’t be in your life forever. 

“So you’re doing this just so you won’t live a life of regret? You’re doing this just for yourself?” 

“It’s the same thing as doing this so that I can help people. It’s two sides of the same coin. Not everyone has what I do.” 

“You sound like Itadori,” he says. The way he does so makes your chest ache slightly and you don’t know why. But nobody is as selfless or as much of an unstoppable force as Yuuji is. Nobody, ever. You turn your eyes away from him even if he can’t see you do so in the dark. 

“But Yuuji takes that to the extreme, I’m…pretty sure. I’m just trying to do what I can because I can.” 

You move your right hand to the side, fiddling with yourself, empty hands trying to find something to do. It bumps into something— something warm and soft. Skin. 

With imaginary chills running along your body, you feel Megumi’s left pinky finger loop itself around yours. He clears his throat, breaking the silence, and you look at him again, at the vague shadow before you. “—that’s…that’s my hand.” 

“Oh. Ah, okay,” you say. It feels right this way— comfortable, nervous, jumbled, calm— 

Your hands move slowly, your fingers trying to steady it like steering around an old, shaky wooden boat with only a paddle, set and ready to embark on a journey. Quivering, you pull your right pinky finger away before your hand is fully enveloped under the hold of his. The heat from his palm on the back of your hand transfers itself right to your face and neck. It’s summer, but it feels cold and hot in the best way possible. “Do… do you want me to let go? Do you want me to stop?” 

“...no. I don’t think so. Do you?” 

“No. I want to stay.” 

“Okay. Me too.” 

He does. 

In the silence you sit up, biting your bottom lip, your nerves like jelly and your brain probably fried if not for the lack of sleep. For a moment you decide to look at him, and you see him swifty turn his head away from you as soon as you do so. 

(—so he’d been looking at you?) 

What wakes you up is the sunrise, an early morning. It’s been embedded into your brain to wake up at seven sharp no matter how late you slept. 

He’s sleeping, his face down, water in his eyelashes— you suppose that’s why he has such crystalline eyes, viridian ones that remind you of summer and life and protection. Jade and grass. Shifting into rather uncomfortable positions so as to not wake him, you pull yourself away. 

His hand still remains snug over yours. 

‘Just friends’ don’t do things like this, you think. But at the same time, ‘just friends’ don’t fight curses or heal those who do so, and ‘just friends’ don’t have a third person they had better relationships with before they broke apart while constantly thinking of each other and decided to at the very least become active figures in each others’ lives again. 

This is scary, moving all too quickly. You’re being grabbed by the waist and thrust into a paraglider; you’re flying in the vast expanse of a boundless, unnavigable sky, manning a paramotor with no previous warning or idea of how to do so. 

But he's very beautiful like this. Hair so black it’s blue, eyelashes woven of silk, a jaw so sharp yet so smooth. The sun greeting the sky as it ejects itself from the inky-hued horizon. You don’t know if there’s a creator, or if there’s a god— you’ve heard of Christianity and many other kinds of faith, though you’d never really dabbled in any of them. But you’d definitely thank someone like that, because scenes like these are proof that someone like that exists, and that that someone is an artist, a masterful artist. So he must have created you and given you an apt appreciation for beauty and art, too, as well as someone like Megumi who was beauty and art. 

‘Just friends’ don’t think like that. 

But you still will anyway. You can allow yourself that. 

He makes a tired little noise as he wakes up, taking in a deep inhale. “...did we really—” 

“Yeah. Um. —wait! I should, um, probably brush my teeth first, my breath probably smells horrible right now, sorry—” 

“Oh. No, it’s fine, I should too—” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll go back to my room too; I don’t want doctor suspecting anything, ah—” 

“Oh— okay,” he releases his hand. 

It’s strange to have things like these— little snippets and moments that remind you to just have fun and be a kid. For years— maybe your whole adolescent experience so far— every day hailed with it a new matter to tend to and worry about, and every day you subconsciously wondered if you were wasting your life away, doing nothing but fantasise of a faraway fancy in which you could use the only potential you had for something. 

But who knew that it was so simple, yet so profound: that the excitement and memories that you yearned for could be obtained just from wanting to do so? That if you wanted to do something, you could just up and do it? 

You like it, though. The paralysing, dizzying feeling of it all, breaths caught in your throat and you can’t say anything without stuttering. The last time you’d felt it, it was Yuuji: you’d had yourself emotionally constipated to the point you choked it all up within you, toned things down and muted the intensity of it all before you even felt it. But it was fun then, and now this is much better. It would seem delusional to hope for anything else. There’s not much of a fantasy for you to look to and put yourself into a deluge of daydreams about, but for once you want to feel something without the implications. That must be what being a teenager is like— you’d seen it time and time again in movies, with cliques and girlfriends and gossip sessions, but you’d never had the luxury to have them yourself and be a girl like that. So this must be what it’s like, at least a semblance of it, with its fun and frivolities and feelings straight from familiar flicks. 

Not quite the time to put a name to it just yet, but it’s fun. At least, you can do it a little longer. It feels like a breath of fresh air after chaining yourself down like an anchor to the seabed. 

You rush to the door. “I’ll see you later? For breakfast,” you try to smile as calmly as you can while you turn back to look at him again. 

Thank goodness Dr Ieiri wakes up at eight whenever there isn't much work for her to tend to. 

You set a mission for yourself: hold Megumi’s hand again at least once in your high school career. 

Now that’s how to live without regrets, be a teenager, and have fun. 

Are you being delusional? 

You don’t know what Fushiguro Megumi is to you now, because ‘friend’ doesn’t sum it up well enough, ‘stranger’ doesn’t do the two of you your deserved justice, classmates isn’t the actual term, and ‘boyfriend’ is way too far from the truth. 

So to have dreams like that; thoughts like that, you think as you brush your teeth, you’re probably making a fool of yourself again. 

There’s something going on here and you don’t know what it is. And even if you’d told yourself you were fine with it, you don’t know how long everything else will be. 

It makes you feel like an idiot. 

But in your head you're filled with thoughts and, for a lack of a better term, hindrances. Did he sleep well? Do friends do that? Or was it just the two of you who’d do that? Was there even any meaning behind it all, any implications on your relationship due to this? This way you’d drive yourself insane before you could even get to breakfast. 

Did he like it, though? Could he have liked it, the sight of you sleeping next to him? Of vulnerability? No, he couldn’t, right? Yet, if he did, then—

You needed to calm down. 

(What about the letter?)

Maybe this was adrenaline: you’d run and take a few bites of breakfast before anyone else did, heading back to your room after you had done so. This way, nobody would see you. (You weren’t calm enough to do this, what made you think, in your sleep-deprived mind, that you’d be mature enough to handle this the next morning?) 

Just as you’re planning strategies to spend the whole day holed up in your room and avoid contact with anyone for it all, there’s a knock on your door. 

“Took so much to talk to the dad alone—” he says, his voice muffled as he speaks to someone else, “I could never stand that old geezer! If he’s like that I’m glad I never had to know how much worse his wife is.” 

It’s Gojo, you can tell. There’s a slight mocking tone in the way he does everything, in the way he says and laughs about the most out-of-pocket shit ever— this is one of those times, because you can almost hear what you think is a feral maniac with the voice of an idol laughing like a loon as he bangs against your door as if he’s trying to kill it. 

“You probably shouldn’t hit it so hard.” Dr Ieiri’s voice. 

You open the door. “Yes?” 

“He’s saying that you should come as backup, and I thought it would help you be put on the spot. It’ll teach you how to operate with clarity as you work,” Dr Ieiri explains. 

“Besides, you won’t even need to help that much. It’s just that this way, you’ll be able to do so if it’s needed while we’re here to guide you. Think of a baby taking its first steps with the help of its parents. If it gets dangerous for them, I’ll step in and you can heal them, but if you can’t heal them enough, we’ll just bring them back to Shoko,” Gojo cheerfully adds. Dr Ieiri nods along with him. 

“Ah… okay.” Your first “actual” lesson as an “apprentice”, then. 

“But first, you should change,” Gojo tells you, handing you a set of clothes, “Here. It’s a spare standard uniform that we keep for special cases. Now you can match with Megumi!” 

Your eyes widen, unsure of whether to laugh nervously or slap him or dash in the opposite direction— shawty a runner, she a track star.  

“I’m so sorry that he’s like this,” Dr Ieiri goes. Joking or not, she’s right. You’re sorry she’s dealt with him for so long, too. 

“...thanks.” 

“Don’t bully my student, Satoru,” Dr Ieiri orders, and you kind of like the sound of your new title. 

You wonder how Gojo got used to teleporting with his cursed technique, but you suppose that it comes with the innate ability to switch from one scene to another so rapidly without feeling at least a little sick— like how the shift from the quiet of the dormitories to the bustle outside of Harajuku has you feeling right now. The brightness of the summer sunlight feels like an intrusion as Gojo sets you down and you open your eyes again. 

“Wow.” 

“Oh, it’s [Name]!” 

Megumi looks away. He’s probably embarrassed to hell and back right now— angry at you, even, maybe. You weren’t sure anymore; you couldn’t even think. You try to let the heat rising up to your face subside without fanning it, steadying yourself beside Gojo, swearing that you’d like to be invisible just this once. 

“Sorry for the wait! I had to take up a call. I brought [Name] over here for backup too to get a grasp of the on-field experience.” Gojo says, waving at them, “Oh! Your uniform made it in time.” 

“Yeah! It fits great! Though I noticed it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s. Mine has got a hood.”

It does fit him, you think, as you look at Yuuji. It looks better on him than it did when he sent you pictures of it over text. It’s easier to look at him now than Megumi. 

“That’s because the uniforms can be customised upon request.”

“Huh?” Yuuji tilts his head to the side, “But I never put in any requests.” 

“You’re right!” Gojo smiles, “I was the one who put in the custom order.” 

“Huh… oh. Well, cool!” 

“Be careful,” Megumi goes, “Gojo has a habit of doing that kind of stuff. So why are we meeting up here in Harajuku?” 

“Because,” Gojo clarifies, “That’s what she asked for.” 

“Oh!” Yuuji starts as the four of you walk out of the station, “You’re wearing the uniform too, [Name]. Looking good!” 

“Really? Thanks. I mean, I like the skirt. The uniform makes me feel like a fancy princess in a fancy school or something, but the skirt looks a little like it belongs to an elegant office lady.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Megumi follows, “You… look good. In the uniform, I mean.” 

You force out a laugh— “Haha, uh… you too. I mean, everyone would look good with these uniforms, right?” Wow… 

“...I guess so,” Megumi replies, looking in the other direction. 

If you see Gojo stifling his laughter in front of you, no you don’t. 

“We- we should get popcorn. I read online that said you could get really tasty popcorn at one of the shops in Takeshita Street.” 

“Yay, popcorn!” Yuuji exclaims, “I want some!” 

“Sure,” Gojo chuckles, “The shop’s pretty near here anyway. This is your guys’ first time in Harajuku, right, [Name] and Yuuji?” 

“Ah… yeah, and now that I think about it, Yuuji had never been out of Sendai until recently, actually. Right?” 

“Yeah, but I thought you’d have been to Harajuku before.” 

“I mean, I used to live in Tokyo, but I didn’t really move around. I think the most famous place I’ve been to is Shinjuku-Gyoen. Really pretty garden…” 

“Oh… then we should go around Tokyo one of these days!” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “We should! But you could spend a whole week exploring and you still wouldn’t see all of it,” you remark, “It’s a good idea, though.” 

“Fushiguro, wanna come along?” 

“Uh, sure…” Megumi goes, avoiding eye contact with you. You do the same. 

“...hey, is everything okay between the two of you? How come you’re so shy with each other all of a sudden?” 

“H-huh? Ah, no, no, it’s okay.” 

“You said ‘no’ twice. You usually only repeat words like that when you’re really worried about something,” Yuuji says. Curse his affinity for knowing you. 

“But it’s fine, though. Don’t worry.” 

“Uh… yeah. What [Name] said.” 

“You sure?” Yuuji asks again, a bit concerned. “Okay, then.” 

The rest of the walk mostly goes in silence— Yuuji excitedly heads for things to buy, from funky accessories to buckets of snacks. By the time it’s over and all of you are near the 400 yen corner, he’s decked out in all the Tokyo tourist gear, there’s popcorn in his hands, and sunglasses with frames spelling out “ROOK” on his face. (Maybe because he’s a rookie?)

There’s a well-dressed girl in front of you— you wonder if it’s her, but she isn’t wearing the uniform, so it probably isn’t— and a man most likely bald and wearing a wig with his black-and-white business suit. “Well, hello, there!” the man says to her, “Are you on the clock right now?” 

“No, not right now,” she replies. 

“That’s great! You see, I’m looking for potential models. That’s what I do! Would you be interested?” 

He’s scouting for models? 

There’s a sliver of hope in you that he looks at you next and asks you that question. You’re sure it isn’t going to happen, but you suppose you would like being told you were pretty by having a job associated with people who were— there was no chance, though. In Tokyo, the vast metropolis that it is, there are so many with better looks; better faces, prettier hair, nicer bodies— or people who dress better, walk more confidently; people who are adequate in all the ways you aren’t. 

The thought slightly shocks you, in reality— you haven’t thought about how you may not be able to compare with others since the time when you really did realise that Yuuji would never like you (not in that way, at least, and it still hurts to think about it). You never thought you’d feel that way again, and you never thought you would have to be surprised by such thoughts that had been brought in by something akin to envy or jealousy. 

“I’m in a hurry right now,” the girl denies. 

At least she probably knows just how beautiful she is. 

“Hey, you!” another girl calls. This one is just as beautiful— prettier than you, with brown (probably dyed) hair, and pretty brown eyes to match. She’s wearing the same uniform as you save for some titivations at the skirt, and she looks way better in it than you do. “What about me?” she asks, pointing at herself, “For that modelling gig. Hey, I’m asking what you think about me.” 

She’s so confident, it’s so cool… 

“Oh, well uh… I’m in a hurry at the moment,” the man says. Little bitch boy. 

“What the hell?” she asks, holding the man by the collar, “Don’t run, come out and say what you think!” 

“Wait, she’s the one we have to go and talk to? This is real embarrassing,” Yuuji says. 

Megumi mutters under his breath, “Yeah? So are you.” 

“I think she’s an icon,” you express. 

Gojo waves at her, amused, “Hey, we’re over here!” 

The girl slams the locker door shut after she places her backpack— a really tiny, cute pink one— into its pit of shopping bags. Probably to buy pretty clothes. She’d look really good in them. 

“Right, so now we have our three students! Oh— [Name] here isn’t really a student, by the way, I’ll explain later,” Gojo informs the pretty girl, “I’d like you to meet—” 

“Kugisaki Nobara. Be honoured, boys,” she says, stance confident, “I’m your group’s girl.” 

She’s so cool.

Oh, she’s judging them, you think as she stares at the boys. 

“I’m Itadori Yuuji. I’m from Sendai!” 

“Fushiguro Megumi.” 

“Ugh,” she lets out, “This is what I get to work with? Great, just my luck.” 

“She took one look and sighed— that can’t be good,” Yuuji says. 

“Are we going somewhere from here?” Megumi asks. 

“Well, we do have all three—” 

“All four—” Megumi interjects. 

“Ack— no, no, Megumi, I’m not a student, hold on—” You don’t want to be something other than a ghost, not right now, because then you’ll have to deal with whatever you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours that you’d rather beat around the bush and eventually forget about than anything. 

“Okay, we do have all four of you together, and since three of you kids are from the countryside, that means…” he pauses for effect— were you really “from” the countryside, though, if you’d moved around so much that you had no sure idea where your roots were? “...we’re going to Tokyo!” 

You and Megumi watch as Kugisaki and Yuuji chant the city name over and over in unison before arguing over where to head to. But this is Gojo— so there may be a catch somewhere that you just haven’t found yet. 

Megumi looks as annoyed as ever, much like the expression his younger self used to have when his eyebrows crinkled in exasperation from your antics. 

“If you quiet down, I’ll announce our destination,” Gojo begins, and the newly formed pair quiet down, “Roppongi!” 

It’s probably just something like an abandoned building in Roppongi, not Roppongi in all of its glamour itself. 

It’s an abandoned building in Roppongi. 

Gojo explains the situation after Kugisaki and Yuuji’s outrage— “There’s a big cemetery nearby. That, plus an abandoned building, and you’ve got a curse.” 

Kugisaki stops her raging when she finds out that Yuuji is still learning about how curses are formed. “Wait, hold up here. He didn’t even know that yet?” 

“To be honest…” Megumi starts to explain. 

She looks horrified after. 

(If you could, though, if you were anything other than a ghost right now— you’d tell her of how selfless and brave Yuuji is, of how incredible he is that he stopped at nothing to help his friends. You’d tell her that this was what made liking him as easy as breathing air.) 

Before the two of them head into the building, Gojo hands Yuuji a cursed tool— you’d never actually seen one before. You wonder if he’ll be able to wield it well enough: you know he has it covered, but you’re still worried about him anyway. (You always are.) 

And he gives Yuuji a challenge, too, though it’s more like an ultimatum. “Don’t let Sukuna out, okay?” 

Soon the three of you sit down near the building— there’s a block of concrete that you wonder why it was placed there for, and Gojo gestures for Megumi and you to sit down there. 

“Hey, you should be sitting here. I’m fine with standing.” 

“Nah, just take a seat. I’ve got to be on standby anyway.” 

“But you’re the teacher. You should get a better seat. And I’m not injured like Megumi, so I’m fine with standing.” 

“Pft,” he snorts, “You think I actually care about that sort of stuff?” 

You pause. “I… guess not. Thank you. Sorry again.” 

Gojo squats down instead, only his feet on the floor. “See? It’s better this way. Just you and Megumi in your own little world—”

“—please stop.” 

Megumi turns away from you again in embarrassment. 

“Anyway…ah, Kugisaki is really pretty,” you state, “And she seems really strong. I’m still worried, though. What if the curse inside is stronger than anticipated…” 

“...I think I’ll go in too,” Megumi says, “Someone needs to keep an eye on Itadori, right?” 

“You should rest and let your injuries heal, though. I mean, I could help you with that, but I’m supposed to wait for their injuries first—” 

“Well, the one we’re testing this time is Nobara,” Gojo highlights, “That Yuuji… he’s got some screws loose: he’s fearless— these things take the form of terrifying creatures who try to kill him, yet the guy has no hesitation at all. And he doesn’t have the familiarity with curses that you have. We’re talking about a boy who used to live a normal high school life. By now you’ve seen plenty of sorcerers and you’ve seen them give up because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, right?” he explains to Megumi. 

He’s right, though. For someone who had no idea what curses were just a bit more than a week ago, it’s amazing how he can acclimatise himself to such a new life so quickly. When you’d first learned about curses and jujutsu sorcerers, the only reason your life stayed that way was because actually becoming a victim of it seemed like merely a faraway hypothetical, something that couldn’t affect you— up until your father revealed his cursed technique and you exorcised that curse in the store a while after. That was when the ghastly figure of reality that was jujutsu society reared its head and pricked you with its cold finger. As happy as you were after you’d exorcised it, you could feel that empty pit forming in your gut— you did it, thank goodness, but what now? And as your heart raced while you helped that lady, you didn’t address it. 

You supposed the benefit of your position was not having to at all. 

“Hasn’t Kugisaki already dealt with curses before, though?” 

“As we know, curses are born from human minds, so their strength in numbers grows in proportion to the population,” Gojo teaches, “Do you think Nobara understands? Tokyo curses are of a different level than those in the countryside.” 

The curse you handled before would be on the weaker side, then. “In what way?” you ask. 

“Their cunning— monsters that have gained wisdom will force cruel choices upon you where the weight of human life hangs in the balance. [Name], when you fought that curse last time, did it seem to be sentient or self-aware?” 

“...I mean, I guess it seemed like it couldn’t really see the other person there. It was just me and the lady who worked there, so… no.” 

“Well, to put it into perspective, [Name], the curse, had it been one from the city instead, could have done something like take the lady hostage to sort of threaten you and keep itself at large. So this test is to see if Nobara is crazy enough.” 

It wouldn’t matter, though— you were the healer, the medic, the doctor. Whatever level of martial prowess you were supposed to have didn’t concern you. 

“And speaking of tests, [Name]…” Gojo begins, “One of these days, you’ll have to get one too. As someone about to take Shoko’s role, this is your first test as a medic— every mission you get sent to will be a test in that aspect. But as a sorcerer…” 

“Hey. I’m not an actual sorcerer, though, remember? And you should speak with Dr Ieiri first if you want me to expel curses like one and all.” 

“Well, I didn’t speak to Dr Ieiri. I spoke to your dear old dad!” 

“What?” 

“Took a lot of convincing, but—”

“He didn’t tell me anything about this. I’m sorry— I know you just treated me well and gave me a better seat, but why didn’t you think to ask me first? It’s not like I ever really wanted to fight, either. And they were on-board with that. It’s just— why would you change that?” 

Megumi sighs exasperatedly, “Seriously, what is this?” 

“Yeah! What is this, Gojo?” 

“Okay, okay: I’ll share a secret with the two of you, then. You’ve always been tied together, so there’s no use in me telling either of you just to not tell the rest. Keep it between yourselves, okay? Think of it as another part of your shared bond,” Gojo says. 

You purse your lip. (Your mother did that a lot. There is nothing you can do that your parents are not entwined in even now; the roots of them have been planted so deeply into your life, ingrained so deeply into your psyche.) “Look, I just want you to answer me, Gojo. Why did you do it?” Why ruin a consensus that took years of compromise and arguments to settle on? 

“...because you can. I mean, it’s your philosophy to be like that, right? If you have the ability to help someone, do it.” 

“I mean, in essence, yeah, but what kind of point are you trying to make here?” 

“That I think with that mindset you’d make a pretty good teacher. You know,” he sighs with a faux furtiveness, “Your father had that same mindset, with his strength and his intelligence and his kindness, and he was one of the best teachers you could ever have. He wasn’t an actual teacher, but… he was the kind of geezer who people thought were wise and would seek guidance from. A great guy, actually. But to cut to the chase, what I’m saying is that I want you to be a sorcerer who knows how to fight, too, instead of just the doctor in the corner that you believe will be the peak of your potential. I think you can do better.” 

“So? I mean, as bad as it sounds, I don’t want to.” 

“That’s why I just want you to try. I want you to have that test and become an actual student here. Shoko doesn’t mind you not becoming one because she thinks they won’t send you on missions if you’re considered ‘too valuable’ by the higher-ups. But I want you to become my student— I’ll give you time to think about it, but look at this way: you have abilities that exceed what you think of yourself— imagine how it sounded to other sorcerers when they heard of you back then, a thirteen-year-old with a late-blooming cursed technique grasping control of it instantly and defeating a grade two curse, even healing the person left behind. Face it: you’re technically a prodigy. The only thing that separates you from others like you is your humanity that troubles you with a reluctance to believe you can actually do anything.” 

Harsh. “...I’ll think about it. But why spring it up on me now?” 

“Maybe you know too little. O-kay, children, listen carefully. Little [Name]’s father would be a relatively famous sorcerer just because of his partial position as a healer, right? For all your life, you were sheltered and protected by your parents who never wanted you to enter into the jujutsu world. I even spoke to your mother herself, remember? Told her that you’d probably be a window but that you could still use cursed energy. You hadn’t shown signs of a cursed technique yet, but we hadn’t considered that it was because prior to that you never had to use it— the countryside areas you grew up in were practically devoid of any curses that your mother and father wouldn’t have already killed themselves. So, with your father’s quote-en-quote ‘fame’, what makes you think that people wouldn’t have wanted you as a jujutsu sorcerer from the start?” 

Just like that the worlds in your head have had worlds of meanings added to them. 

“So? What do you think, [Name]?” 

You turn to Megumi. When you’re backed out into a corner, your eyes scrambling for a place to put them, you turn to Megumi. 

His hand moves hesitantly to your shoulder, ghosting over it like a teapot over a china cup. “...whatever it is, you’ll do well. Gojo just likes to pull stuff like this.” 

It feels warm. You won’t be in trouble if you don’t run away from this. It’s nice. It’s calm, his steady hand on your shoulder as your heart feels like it’s about to take a nosedive. “...thanks.” 

“Give me some time, Gojo.” 

Yuuji and Kugisaki come back with a little boy in tow. 

“Ah— you’re back!” 

“No injuries, [Name]! We’re all scratch-free! The kid has a bruise on his knee, though.” 

“Oh. Can I see it, please?” you ask the boy, kneeling to his height. 

The boy pulls the left hem of his pants up, revealing a fresh violet blot on his skin. 

“Would you be okay if I touched your knee? I can take the bruise away for you.” 

He nods and soon it’s gone, his skin pristine and new. “Woah,” he goes, “Thank you! Was that magic?” he asks, eyes full of childlike wonder. 

You giggle. “Something like that. Could you keep it a secret?” you make the best welcoming and kid-friendly grin you can as you place your index against your lips. 

“Okay!” he whisper-shouts, smiling wide. 

Kugisaki and Yuuji rest by the building while Gojo, Megumi and you bring the kid back home. 

“You know, I wanted to say, big sister,” he starts, looking up at you, “You’re really pretty!” 

(So cute!!) “Ah, really? That other girl is really pretty too, though.” 

“You too! You could be like a model on a poster!” he exclaims, “Oh wait— I live over there! Thanks again!” he points to the turning on the left. 

“Haha, thank you,” you reply as Gojo waves at him, “Take care of yourself!” 

“I will! Bye-bye, big sister!” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask Gojo and Megumi. “Ack— I feel lightheaded.”

Megumi turns to you in an instant— “You didn’t eat enough for breakfast?” 

“Guess so,” you reply, “I should be fine, though. I think I just had something on my mind the whole day and I couldn’t feel the hunger or something.” 

He whips his phone out. 

“Oh, there’s a famous tonkatsu restaurant back in Omotesando,” you suggest as he scrolls through restaurant options. “I think Yuuji may want to eat something like steak, though, and I don’t know what Kugisaki likes. Is there anything you want in particular?” 

“I’m fine with anything,” he says, “But it’s Gojo’s money we’re going to be using, so we should probably make the most of it.” 

“Mm… we can eat beef steak in Ginza, I think… ah— Yuuji’s grandfather always called it beefteki. I’m surprised I can still remember.” 

27-6-2018 

“Hi. It’s one in the morning, Megumi,” you greet him as he stands outside your room’s door, “Can’t sleep?” 

“...yeah,” he admits sheepishly, “Sorry about this.” 

He sits down on the bed. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s like we’re going to keep doing this,” you start, “Our special ritual. Something like that. I mean, we help each other in this way, right?” 

Your hand strays upward a little, nervous as it inches toward his shoulder. 

He brings your hand there and places his own hand on top of it. “Yeah,” he replies contentedly, “But I… wanted to ask,” Megumi begins, “What Gojo said. Are you going to become a student?” 

“I don’t know. I mean, looking at how things are going now, I may. It seems like things are leaning more towards me being a full-fledged sorcerer. Haven’t had the time to think about it.” 

He seems to pause for a moment, to reconsider something one last time like a record in his head. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“I should take you to see Tsumiki first.” 

You nearly gasp. “She wants to see me?” After all this time? “I’m happy, but… wouldn’t she be busy, though?” 

“No… I mean… you really should take a look at her first. Then you’ll see what I’m trying to say. I’m sorry, but I just— I really should have told you sooner.

“Told me what?” you frown. Learning of this feels a bit like restarting and going back to square one somehow. 

“I’m sorry, can we just… do something else for now? Just… please be patient with me a little longer. I’m sorry you have to do that so much.” 

“…okay.” 

You wake up to his figure being illuminated shyly by the light of dawn. In the tiny bubble that the two of you share— of intertwined paths, secrets, lives— and the sensation of waking from a late night, you realise just how much you want to stay there forever. 

This morning, you don’t rush back to your room and hastily go through your routine. All you do for a while, for what feels like it lasts for a century yet lasts for too little time, is look at him, at his steady, quiet breathing as his eyes are shut comfortably tight.

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

[bbunisre]

09: OPERATION: RETRIEVAL (0.3k)

You almost audibly groan when you reach the Tsumiki’s driveway. Placing your head on the steering wheel, you sigh.

Although Megumi and you talked about the whole situation, two times now, for some reason you couldn’t shake off that awkward sensation whenever it was time to see him. For example, Megumi came over at recess today to give Tsumiki and you strawberry milk from the canteen and you almost shirveled and died on the spot at seeing him so suddenly.

Why?

You cleared up the situation. Twice. Why were you feeling this way?

Am I…crushing on Megumi?

You shake your head vigorously, “No…no. No, I’m not. I’m not.” 

The denial came in so hard that you leave the car and march right up to the front door. You weren’t going to freak out when you saw Megumi anymore. When you see him, you’ll be alright. There won’t be anything troubling you because this is the boy you grew up with.

You knock on the door, wait a few minutes and it swings opens.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

“Megumi…” you greet with a faint smile, a little light-hearted.

He’s so broad he almost fits the entire doorway. 

Fuck. Was he always like this?

“Hi. Your slippers, they’re—“

“What’s taking you so long, Fushiguro?!” a high-pitched voice comes through to the front, “Are you making scenarios of Y/N and giggling about them—oh, hi, Y/N!”

Megumi turns bright red, eyes as big as saucers as he looks back Itadori.

“Hi, Yuuji,” you greet, pretending like you didn’t hear a single thing.

You swallow Itadori’s words as you grab your slippers from Megumi’s hands.

“I’ll...I’ll wait for you in the living room.” Itadori says and books it to the lounge.

A beat of silence passes and Megumi immediately says, “Don’t listen to him. He’s a dickhead.”

You try to laugh it off, “I won’t…uhh, I’ll go now…have fun…making scenarios of us.”

You walk away to your car before you can see his reaction.

“Y/N.” he calls.

You don’t listen, you just walk to your car and drive off.

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[kentuckyfriedmegumi]

tess’s guide to writing kiss scenes (featuring itafushi)

this is for @sunnyyflowerrs and @kat-likes-writing btw

bye so i am not that good at writing these idk why i’ve been asked to make this.  i read other people’s stuff and their kiss scenes and i’m like hnnnghghfhsnksj GIVE IT TO MEEEE!!!!! but alas… i shall deliver what the people want.

before we get into the step-by-steps of writing a kiss scene, i want to go over the general things i try to highlight in a scene that helps me when i write them. there’s the general way that kiss scenes go–build/tension, the kiss, post-kiss. wow, what a shocker, right? but overall, when i am writing a kiss scene, i like to highlight the feelings, the movements, and the energy. feelings being what the characters are feeling of course, movements being what they are doing, and energy being the overall charge in the scene. what is the context? is this a happy kiss? is it desperate? is it fast? is it soft? is it intimate? is it sexual? once you establish the tone of the scene, you are able to start building it.

let’s go.

1. the build up

as you get into building a kiss scene, there’s a lot of high tensions and emotions happening. a kiss is a very intimate form of contact and when you have two characters who are going to kiss, you need to set it up in a way that feels natural.

let’s take a desperate kiss for example. let’s say in this situation, megumi and yuuji both nearly died, and megumi was especially hurt (there will be light angst prob, sorry):

Yuuji stumbled towards the boy on the ground. Fushiguro was lying on his side, back towards him, breaths short and ragged. Guilt rippled through Yuuji the way a stone ripples through still water, jagged as it washed over him. “Fushiguro?” he asked. He could hear how pathetic his voice sounded, small and hesitant as he waited for an inevitable answer. Please answer. Yuuji dropped to his knees, feeling the pain of the fight finally settle in. The adrenaline was wearing off now, everything ached and he had cuts all over. He was sure he looked like hell and he could feel the blood caked on his face slowly dry and crust over. But nothing mattered because Fushiguro was right there. He could be bleeding—he probably still was—he could be missing an arm, he could he dying. It didn’t matter. Everything was shut out, locked away from his mind. Everything other than the body in front of him, chest rapidly rising and fall. He saw a small a shift and instinctively Yuuji reached out towards Fushiguro, only stopping not even an inch away from his shoulder. His hand was left hovering over him, scared to touch him, scared to cross that line. He wasn’t sure he could stop himself if he did.

in what i’m writing, i’m trying to show yuuji’s specific focus on megumi. this is a desperate kiss scene, so what i am trying to go for is this sense of i nearly lost you, so nothing matters other than the fact that you are right here with me.

notice that for this, i have feelings, movements, and energy.

feelings. yuuji is WORRIED, poor guy, all he can think about is whether or not meg is okay. i’m highlighting yuuji’s own pain and injuries, and immediately tossing them aside. yuuji does not care if he is hurting, all that matters right now is if megumi is okay.

movements. yuuji is placing himself near megumi, he reaches out for him, but he stops himself. this creates ~tension~ which makes for a juicy kiss scene. having some sort of tension also helps the build as emotions are rising. even in less /dire/ kiss scene builds, there may be some sort of tension going on. maybe they are both shy, maybe one of them isn’t sure the other likes them back, maybe they’re just plain nervous.

energy. this is the charge of the scene and mainly relies on surrounding context. this may be a bit easier to write based on how the scene is going. for this kiss, what is the overall tone of this that you’re going for? is this romantic? is it comforting? it’s important to have that extra layer so the reader has a better understanding of both characters’ emotions and motives as they reach the kiss.

2. the kiss

the kiss itself is the climax of the scene, everything is leading and converging to this very moment (no pressure right?). when writing a kiss, the feelings, movements, and energy are all VERY IMPORTANT because this is what the readers are reaching for when the scene starts.

let’s have a slow/soft kiss now. for this one, megumi and yuuji have been ~in love~ but they haven’t kissed and this is their first one. the build for this type of scene would focus a lot on the jitteriness in the characters. write in things such as trembling hands, increased heart rates, LOTS of blushing. aight, time to make these boys kiss, you get build and a kiss now:

Itadori was looking at Megumi. His cheeks were tinted a soft rosy color, and Megumi adored the way his eyes shone, despite his overall fidgety demeanor. He was usually so confident and easygoing, why was he so nervous now? Megumi wasn’t really in the position to ask questions, he could feel the heat rising to his face as Itadori looked at him. he smiled and Megumi could have melted right there. His eyes were so warm, his smile was so warm, Itadori was so warm. Megumi could feel his pulse quicken and he felt like his head was spinning in circles. But it was impossible to miss the way Itadori’s eyes flickered down, away from his eyes, a bit lower on his face. Megumi swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “Megumi,” Itadori said, stepping closer. Megumi’s face was surely as pink as the hair of the boy in front of him. he nervously fidgeted with his hands, unsure of what to do as the ever-increasing warmth that was Itadori stepped even closer. Megumi searched his eyes as he took one more final step forward. Itadori stopped for a moment, gauging a reaction, as if he was making sure this was okay. Megumi could feel his breath, their faces just inches apart.   It was like time slowed. Itadori shifted, his hand coming up to Megumi’s face, as if Megumi wouldn’t want anything more than what was about to happen. He felt warm calloused hands lightly brush his cheek and Megumi jumped slightly at the contact. Itadori was already starting to lean in when he stopped at the sudden movement, worried that Megumi was going to rebuff him. Megumi reached up with his own hand, grasping Itadori’s arm and holding him in place. their eyes met. They stood like that for what felt hours and seconds all the same before Megumi started to lean in too, eyes half-lidded as they fluttered from Itadori’s gaze to his lips. Their breaths mixed and Megumi just knew that Itadori could feel his racing pulse beneath his fingers. It didn’t matter. With one final resolve, they both moved in. It was like everything in the world stopped. A burst of warmth spread from Megumi’s chest throughout his body, enveloping him as he sighed into the kiss. Itadori’s lips were soft. Megumi could feel a light tremble that was probably, definitely from the nerves, and he was certain that he was probably, definitely trembling too. Itadori’s hand on his cheek moved a bit lower, fingers ghosting the nape of Megumi’s neck. They tangled in his hair while the pad of his thumb rubbed softly behind his ear. Instinctively, Megumi’s grip on Itadori’s arm tightened. As a result, Itadori pressed himself into Megumi further, other hand snaking around to his back and pulling him against his chest. And god, Megumi wanted to melt. They broke apart, only for a moment, before Itadori moved back in and resumed the kiss. Megumi could feel his mouth part slowly and Itadori responded in kind. Both of them moved with gentle, subtle motions, taking in small breaths in between. Megumi shifted his head, tilting slightly to the right, allowing Itadori to deepen the kiss further. They kept the pace slow, their kisses light. Megumi’s heart was racing a million miles a minute and his mind was overflowed with only thoughts of Itadori—the tenderness in his touch, as if Megumi was the most precious thing in the world to him.

ayyyyyy look at that kiss!! once again, we got the big three.

feelings. for this scene, it was important to show that megumi is nervous (capital n), but he WANTS this. he wants yuuji to kiss him and he wants to kiss yuuji. when they finally do kiss, there’s this overwhelming feeling where all of his anxieties finally calm. notice how i focus a lot on megumi’s feelings to convey the importance of this kiss for them. i also highlight yuuji’s nervousness in meg’s perception through his actions. the constant glancing at his lips and the way he moves in slowly to kiss him help show that yuuji is just as nervous as meg is.

movements. a lot of people thing that writing kiss scenes are awkward and i can see how they would be. you don’t want to focus TOO MUCH on what they’re doing, unless you’re writing more explicit content. in this snippet, i have brief descriptions of their actions, but a lot of movements are also focused outside of what their mouths are doing. yuuji brings his hand from megumi’s cheek to his neck, his other hand comes his back and pulls him closer. but you don’t want to focus too much away the kiss. i bring it back to that by writing how megumi is the one who deepens the kiss, parting his mouth and allowing yuuji to take over.

energy. this kiss scene is meant to be soft and tender. notice how i sort of drag it out bc the boys are supposed to be a lil nervy. i convey the energy by using descriptors of their subconscious actions, bc the body is also reacting to the kiss. heart rates are increased, they’re looking at each other’s lips, they’re lips are trembling. but i also have the feelings and movements be really soft and slow. they don’t crash together, they slowly gravitate towards each other.

3. post-kiss

this part is probably the easiest to write. both characters are coming down from their high and there’s a swirl of emotions that starts to die down. usually nerves dwindle as both characters soften. depending on the situation, you can have them soften into each other, or perhaps they pull apart in regret.

bc i’m cruel, let’s do both! sorry in advance…

Fushiguro was kissing him. It should have been the best thing in the world. It was the best thing in the world, but all Yuuji could focus on wasn’t the heat from his body, the grip on his shoulders, or the soft press of Fushiguro’s lips against his own. All Yuuji could think about was the endless list of lives that he had taken. The people that he should have saved, that he could have saved if he had just died. Fushiguro was kissing him, and he didn’t deserve it. But couldn’t he be selfish? Just this once, could he take what he had always wanted? Fushiguro had asked to be saved, he had asked for Yuuji’s support. Yuuji wanted nothing more than to give that to him. He wanted to give it all to him. And so he did. Yuuji stepped closer, grabbing Fushiguro’s collar and pulling him further in. He could feel a small gasp before he swallowed it with a kiss. Fushiguro was kissing him, how could he not kiss him back? The feeling of Fushiguro’s hand carding through his hair stopped everything. His touch was gentle as he tangled his fingers through Yuuji’s hair. There was a certain tenderness in the way that he moved. No. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be touched, kissed, loved as if he were a good person. Not after everything he did. Not after everyone he killed. And he especially didn’t deserve it from someone like Fushiguro. No, Fushiguro deserved so much more. Yuuji deserved nothing. So he pulled back, his grip on the collar loosening. Yuuji had to force his hands down at his sides as he took a step back. He was still quick to notice the way Fushiguro followed him, only briefly, before he pulled back with a certain look on his face. The kind of look that Yuuji hoped to never see again. “I’m… sorry,” Yuuji said. Fushiguro stiffened and his gaze fell. “No,” he said, face dark as he turned away from Yuuji. Suddenly, everything was so much colder. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have k– I shouldn’t have done that.” It wasn’t you. It’s not you. It’ll never be you. I’m a monster, I’m a murder, I don’t deserve you. You could have so much more, so much better than me. A million thoughts raced through Yuuji’s mind—so many things that he wanted to say to assure Fushiguro that he didn’t pull away because he wanted to. “We should probably get some rest,” was what he said instead, “before we go to the third years.” “Right,” Fushiguro replied. “It’ll be a long day, I’m sure.”

eeek sorry, chooms. i’m just trying to provide ~variety~ here in my kiss scenes. whipping these up on the spot means i just sorta write whatever comes to my brain. this kiss meant to be angstier. it’s bleaker. yuuji’s thoughts are dark and self-depreciating. he kisses meg back, but he immediately feels bad about it because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. this translates to his movements, with him gripping the collar in desperation, but immediately pulling back and restraining his himself at the end of it. as for the energy, notice how in this kiss and post-kiss how there’s an overall darkness in the tone. there is less focus on the kiss itself and what they are doing and more so in the dark thoughts plaguing yuuji’s mind. this adds to the post-kiss, as it sets up his regret in kissing meg in the first place.

Let’s do another one:

Megumi rushed in, crashing his lips against Itadori’s as the grip on his arm tightened. Fuck Sukuna, fuck the higher ups, fuck everything else in the world. They were crazy for thinking the world could ever just be free of Itadori Yuuji. Megumi wouldn’t allow it. Not when he was right there in front of him, real, and alive. Megumi could feel Itadori stiffen in hesitation for a moment before he was met back with the same fervor, the same desperation Megumi had kissed him with. All of the noise of the outside world, all of the noise in his head silenced immediately at the feeling of Itadori’s lips moving against his. His hand was quick to make its way to Megumi’s face, caressing his cheek with a gentleness that he was definitely not kissing him with. Megumi didn’t care about that, though, so he tilted his head and let his arms fall around Itadori’s waist and pulled him flush against himself. A small gasp escaped from Itadori before it was immediately swallowed by the kiss. Megumi drank him in like he was dehydrated and Itadori’s lips were a cold glass of water. They could have stayed that way for forever. Allowing their pace to slow, Megumi’s grip on Itadori loosened. They morphed into a kiss that more loving and intimate. It was as if the rush of emotions slowly recessed back into the ocean of Megumi’s mind—not repressed but rather settled into something a bit softer. When they parted, Megumi held Itadori close and rested his forehead against the other boy’s. He was smiling. That same goofy, stupid smile that he smiled when he was about to watch a movie with Megumi, or when Megumi summoned his Divine Dog, or when he was cooking with Megumi. The smile that Itadori reserved only for him. “Hi there,” he said. Megumi gave a small smile in return. “Hi.” He could tell his heart was racing, he was probably blushing too, but all he could think about was that he kissed Itadori. Even crazier, Itadori kissed him back. Megumi couldn’t help the small chuckle the escaped his lips before it was too late and Itadori was giving him a small nudge. “Are you thinking about me?” Itadori teased. “Shut up,” he said with no real annoyance. “Fine.” And suddenly, Itadori was kissing him again.

For this post-kiss, we have them softening to each other. The kiss was a big boiling point of emotions as megumi kissed yuuji, then after the kiss, they part and it’s a sweet, loving moment between the two of them. we have megumi’s feelings being read about yuuji, we have his movements in resting their foreheads together, and we have the energy shift from a passionate kiss to an intimate moment.

overall

i mean that’s basically it! i didn’t plan on it, but i wrote four kiss scenes (well, three kisses and one build to a kiss) and broke down my little formula for each one. i hope that this provides some enlightenment in how to write a kiss scene and i hope my ramblings make sense here. i was always of the belief that kiss scenes were super hard to write, but after writing one for IYTFPTGFMTFILWH, it just sorta all clicked for me. i hope that this guide helps it click for you too, fellow author.

if anything, i hope you enjoyed the itafushi kisses. happy itafushi friday.

[dellalyra]

Family Formation - Part Ten

Summary: The school’s exchange event endangers your family, but it’s okay, mom and dad are here to help.

CW: swearing, fluff, found family stuff, canon typical violence, I guess some angst ? megumi needs his mom rn

A/N: so!! It seems like nothings showing up in tags!!! If anyone can help pls do i am dumb and confused!! But ! Here is part 10 I have absolutely no impulse control and now you get 2 parts in one night bc adhd. I like this part nd pls don’t forget that requests are open and I love getting them!! Also! Just send shit idc I’m lonely man

Recommended Listening:

In The Woods Somewhere - Hozier

Masterlist

Nothing felt right.

You couldn’t sit still in your chair beside your husband.

There was a twisting in your gut. Akio, now 6 months old, was safe and sound with your parents – Grade One sorcerers and your home were hidden by your husband – so you knew Akio was safe.

But call it mother’s instinct – one of your kids was in danger.

You tried to pay attention to the exchange event, watching the fights but the feeling grew and grew and was soon confirmed when all the student’s lights burned red.

You sprung up from your chair and vaguely heard Mei Mei and Yaga speaking – you gripped Satoru’s arm and soon you, him and Utahime along with Gakuganji were running toward a descending curtain. Gojo reached out only to be violently rejected by the curtain, you frowned in confusion but realised a second too late as you too, were blasted backwards.

You looked at Satoru.

“An anti-Gojo veil, I just don’t think it specified which one.” He said, as you realised this was meant to keep you both out as Utahime managed to slide her arm through the veil.

Panic seized your stomach. Megumi. He was in there, he was in danger. Nobara, Yuuji. What about Maki and Toge, Panda too? All the Kyoto kids? You needed to get in. That anger panic soon turned to anger as you realised someone intentionally made this veil to keep you and Satoru from the kids.

“Utahime, gramps, you two go ahead. Protect the kids. I can break this down, but only with Y/N’s intellect.” He waves a hand at them, he may be calm but you can sense his frustration.

Utahime looks at you.

“Hime, please, get me, my kids.” She only nods and they disappear through the curtain.

“Okay, Satoru. What do you see?” You ask. You and your husband work together like a well-oiled machine by now – techniques working in perfect unison after so long of working together and the intimacy of marriage.

“Veil, the cursed spirit made, specifically meant to keep us both out. 2km radius.” He recites, knowing what you need.

“Okay, I’ll create a diversion – then red?” You don’t even realise it by now but you working on sheer instinct and muscle memory. Trying to clear the emotions swirling through your gut right now is taking everything you have.

“It’s a deal, sweet cheeks.” He replies. God, where would you be without this man beside you?

You activate one of your techniques, one of the more durable and as teenage Gojo when training said ‘damn annoying’ ones, Fae Conjuration, and shape an ancestral spirit’s cursed energy into a gigantic elephant.

“I love your flair for drama, princess,” Gojo says, kissing your hand.

“Go big or go home, right.” You reply, which makes him laugh.

As you send the elephant charging into the barrier, just as it hits and bursts into thousands of small blue petals, Satoru sends a bright red burst of energy into the curtain and you see it shrink back into itself.

You both immediately begin running toward the smoke and dust emanating from where you know the river lies. You pray to whoever might be listening that your kids are safe and that you weren’t, once again, too late.

“Y/N, get them out of the way,” Satoru says from behind you, before branching off behind you. You knew what he meant immediately.

Not far away, a series of flashes come and you see, your Yuuji, sweet, kind, loving Yuuji – has hit the curse with four consecutive black flashes. Pride swells in your chest and a giggle at how Kento will react. Next comes several confusing images which you recognise as Todo switching everyone’s places and before you know it the curse has greatly increased their cursed energy output. Yuuji comes running to Todo and just as the energy reaches its peak, you slid into the riverbed in front of the boys, using your cursed claws as anchors and shouting.

“Cursed technique: Wall of Thorns” comes tumbling from your voice, raw and powerful and the magnitude of energy pulsing from your technique quells the curses own but also wraps it up in piercing tendrils of impossibly thick, strong vines.

You look at the curse, a spirit imbued by nature – a being similar to yourself. You smile sadly at it.

“The Dryad. The monk warned me of you.” The curse speaks in a shockingly gentle voice.

“Hanami. I’m sorry it came to this. Return to the earth, and be at peace.” You say as you’ve spotted a shape lingering in the sky.

You turn as fast as you can, as you spot a figure in the sky and grabbing Todo and Yuuji by the arms you shout again.

“Cursed technique: comments flora.” And with that, you and the boys are standing, by a camellia bush about 100ft away.

“Why have we run? Y/N-Sensei?! Todo?! It’s not dead!” Yuuji shouts and leaves to run but Aoi grabs his arm.

“Hold it, brother!” Todo says.

“Do not go closer, Yuuji. Satoru has it from here.” You say.

“Don’t take another step closer, or you’ll get caught in it.” Todo and you push Yuuji behind you both and just in time as a rumble comes through the ground and you’re all soon swathed in a deep purple light.

You giggle a little, Satoru has had a chance to play a little rough today, he’s probably in heaven.

“Ha, he’s as nonstandard as ever,” Todo says.

As the light clears and you release Yuuji from your grip, you look at them both.

“Where is Megumi? I can feel his cursed energy. Is he safe, is he hurt?” You say, patting them both down and spinning them to assess injuries.

“He’s been taken to Shoko Sensei, he was injured, along with Maki. Panda has escorted them to safety.” Todo informs you as you squeeze the (much taller than you) Itadori into your chest.

“Well, maybe I should have Aoi here as your Sensei if he managed to get a black flash from you.” Coke from behind you, as your husband floats down to stand beside you all. Yuuji immediately starts spouting at him about how cool the ‘purple neon flashy thingy’ was and how he’s ‘so OP Sensei’ and Aoi claps and agrees and admires his panache.

“Satoru – Satoru! Megumi! He’s hurt, Shoko has him.” He whips around and grabs your arm and the next thing you know you’re warping into Shoko’s office and you realise the last time you did that your waters had broken and Akio was on his way. But now, it’s your other son, and it’s fear – not joyous apprehension you’re feeling. Satoru is stock still and stiff beside you. You know you’re both worrying you didn’t get to him in time. Your darling boy.

But much to your relief, sitting up with a scowl in front of you is the spikey-haired boy – seemingly unscathed, with Maki opposite him.

You dive into him, wrapping him in your arms.

“Shoko! Ieiri Shoko! Come here now! SHOKO!” You’re shouting through the room and Megumi is hushing you Satoru is pulling at every limb on Megumi checking for damage and Maki is laughing her ass off at the look on her cousin’s face.

“Jesus, Y/N chill the fuck out, your kids fine. He got a nasty gash in his stomach but it’ll heal fine, was more of a cursed technique issue than a health one. 2 weeks bed rest and some painkillers and he’ll be all good.” Shoko says, wiping her hands on her doctors coat and rolling her eyes at you. A flash of a memory of you and Gojo fussing like this over an injured Geto back in the day with her only learning to heal passes through her mind as she witnesses the scene.

She’s soon knocked back by you tossing your arms around her neck and kissing her hair.

“Thank you, I chose the best best friend ever, thank you I love you.” You finally let her go and then begin to fuss over Maki and Megumi together. Telling them that you’re taking both of them and whoever else needs recovery time to you and Gojo’s house and you’ll take care of them.

Shoko raises an eyebrow at Gojo, wondering how he’ll react to this decision.

“What my princess wants, I’ll give her. And if it’s time to look after her kids, then that’s nothing I’ll object to.” He shrugs, grabbing a candy from her desk.

Shoko leaves to check on Inumaki and Noritoshi Kamo and Maki is given permission to leave back to her dorm, with an open invite to the Gojo Cottage to recuperate if she wants.

You sit beside Megumi, with Gojo sprawling his ridiculously long limbs over the legs of the chair he’s on, playing candy crush with one eye and observing you two with the other.

“You okay, ‘gumi?” You say.

“I’m good, don’t worry Mom.” He says, awkwardly patting the top of your hand.

“You did really good today kid, saved a lot of people. Proud of you.” Gojo says, beaming. “You really take after your old man, and by that I mean me, in your levels of extraordinary talent.”

Megumi rolls his eyes and you just laugh at the two boys. You text your mom that Satoru will be home to take Akio to bed tonight, but you’ll both be staying the night in the chairs beside your eldest before you can take him home to rest tomorrow. She replies, after crying for 10 minutes over him being hurt asking if ‘her darling Megumi needs his Nana’ and he blushes and says it’s okay he’ll see her when he’s home. She tells you she loves you, tells Gojo she loves him, and tells Megumi she loves him the mostest and then you hang up. All of you drifting off, you and Gojo curled together on the armchair beside your kid’s bed.

You guys would be okay.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

Requests open <3

[idiotgojo]

Hello, hope you're healthy! If it's not too much trouble, can I request an angst to fluffy scenario with Toji, with a fem/gn S/O who has a mutilated face? Something like Sally face that she hides with a mask and everything, and when asked about it, S/O says that her previous romantic partner wasn't so nice to her.

Drink water and get in loser lets ignore Canon together! Take the kids(Megumi, Yuuji, Nobara and Yuuta) and your husbands(all jjk men) and run!

sorry this took a while, hope you enjoy <3

warning; scars, s/h, insecure reader, drunk ex, domestic violence(?), hurt comfort to fluff

It was quiet on the rooftop, and the night air was cool as it drifted around the two of you. After a simple but sweet date, you and Toji found yourselves sitting side by side, legs dangling over the edge of the building. The city was alive below and everything felt peaceful.

You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, your mask still firmly in place as you stared at the skyline. Toji leaned back on his hands, his gaze flickering between you and the view. You could sense something was on his mind, the usual ease between you both replaced by a subtle tension. He wasn't the type to press or pry, but tonight, it seemed like he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"…Why do you always wear that thing?" His voice was quiet, almost careful, like he didn't want to push too hard. He kept his eyes forward, not looking directly at you.

You stiffened slightly, your fingers tightening around the fabric of your jacket as the question you had anticipated finally surfaced, making the words feel harder to form. "I don't like talking about it," you began, your voice softer than usual, feeling the weight of his gaze shift fully toward you despite the silence between you. Toji remained quiet, waiting that somehow made it easier to continue, even though the subject felt like a raw wound. "It's not… something I share with many people."

"My ex," you said, the words tumbling out slowly. "He did it. He was drunk, angry. It wasn't the first time, but… that night was worse."

The silence between you stretched, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Toji shifted slightly beside you, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward, his expression unreadable. You felt exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn't expected, but something about the way he was just there—solid and steady—made it bearable.

"I've worn the mask ever since. It just… feels easier to hide."

Toji exhaled quietly, his jaw tightening for a brief moment. "You don't need to hide from me," he said, his voice low but firm. There was an edge of protectiveness in his tone, simultaneously a softness you rarely heard from him. "That bastard isn't here. I am."

You swallowed hard, his words sinking in, but the vulnerability wasn't as suffocating as before. You'd shown him your face before, but now with more comfort and less anxiety, you took off the mask. A small part of you decided you didn't need it around him.

"It's not easy," you mumbled, eyes on the city lights. "Some days, it's all people see. I try not to let it get to me, but…"

Toji's gaze stayed on you. "But?"

You sighed softly. "But then I see how you look at me, and I don't feel so… different."

In silence, Toji's hand found yours, warm and calloused, a simple gesture that made your chest feel lighter. "Good," he said, almost gruffly. "'Cause I'm not in the mood for babysitting your self-esteem." He smirked, squeezing your hand gently.

You chuckled at his bluntness, but it was the exact response you needed. "Wow, romantic as ever." you say eyes going wide, eyebrows lifting mockingly.

"Hey, you knew what you were getting into," he teased, his lips twitching into that familiar half-smile. His eyes softened just a little, enough to make your heart flutter. "Besides, if anyone says somethin about your face again, I'll handle it. Personally."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. "I don't think punching people is the answer to everything, Toji."

"No?" he tilted his head playfully. "Guess it depends on who's asking."

You both laughed quietly, the tension that had been there earlier completely dissipating. It was the little things—like the way his hand never left yours, the way his eyes stayed soft whenever he looked at you—that reminded you he cared, even if he didn’t always say it.

"Thanks," you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"You do not have to thank me for not being an asshole."

[wttcsms]

BALANCING ACT II LETS GOOOOOOO

have i ever told u how happy it makes me feel that u love balancing act so much 😭 i honestly consider it one of the fics no one on my blog cares abt, so to know it's loved is so reassuring

balancing act is one of those projects where i want it to seem light-hearted and so i hope the comedy shines through in the fic (i am particularly fond of the eye-fucking comment LMAO) and while the tone is a bit sarcastic and i am poking fun of finance bro culture (amongst other things; we do get utahime x takuma ino in this fic, and we explore "nontraditional" relationships which i think is interesting bc canonically, utahime does give a traditional vibe abt her. in here, we see the woman not only being the breadwinner in the relationship but also seeing her being the older one in the relationship as well), there's still a layer of actual seriousness going on. this fic is a great exploration in realizing that, hey, if you want to be loved fully for who you are, you actually have to have the balls to show up with your true self and to actually give yourself fully to your partner. because you can't say "no one will love me for who i am" and yet, you've never shown yourself fully to someone before. so, it's actually reader that will struggle to open up, and in the second to final arc of the fic, we do see gojo being the one to pull away from reader (bc you can only keep pursuing someone and loving them and trying to care for them just to have it thrown back in your face or have them run away; it gets to a point, yknow?) and now reader has to do the chasing (just for a bit!).

some fun notes & scenes & a closer look at what i wanna talk abt in balancing act!

ugh + i couldn't find the post where i discussed it, but balancing act also shines a light on gojo's caring nature!! just like in canon, we get gojo who makes jokes and seems to not take things seriously, but he does care and it's shown in subtle ways. in the part i'm working on, it's revealed that 1) megumi is allergic to certain flowers and you know this, but you don't know if gojo knows or cares abt this (the answer? he does. he didn't buy you any of the flowers megumi is allergic to & he carries an epipen on him, just in case). yuuji is new to the firm & didn't come from a target school or the same rich or privileged backgrounds as everyone else in the office, and so he's feeling kind of left out and in typical finance bro culture, everyone has one of those damn vests and yuuji lowkey wants one but he doesn't wanna seem cringe, so gojo buys ALL the new hires finance bro vests AND makes them all wear it in the office bc he wanted to give yuuji this gift but didn't want to make him the odd one out. so, his outside actions seem weird and like he's a jokester, but there's a lot behind what he says and does, and i think that's really fun to write about

[mana-jjk]

i have like 3 long posts in the drafts about a college au, hard of hearing toge and partially blind maki, and inuokko dynamic with kids but here i am, once again, not finishing my wip <3

so anyway, first and second years and how much they believed in santa, second years being a lot longer because i am actually insane. ft. inuokko and nobamaki of course

yuuji - his dad probably wanted him to have so much magic in the holidays, but his grandfather was very practical. so he probably got a singular santa christmas before being raised to know he wasn’t real. but yuuji is such a good kid that he kept it to himself and just played along with the other kids. choso still thinks he believes, probably because a small part of him is a little kid at heart.

megumi - tsumiki did her best to keep the magic of the holidays, but they didn’t have a lot of money so she struggled a lot. he’s a very practical kid so it didn’t take him long to figure it out. for a while he didn’t say anything until it slipped out in an argument that he knew and wasn’t a kid. when gojo adopted them, he took a little too much enjoyment in gaslighting them that santa was real but had been delivering their presents somewhere else. not out of being a good guardian, but because he enjoys lying to children, especially pulling off weird feats and watching megumi twitch.

nobara - 100% believed in santa the longest out of the trio and is embarrassed by it. if you ask her, she always knew he was fake and she was just trying to get cool presents. but if you ask her grandmother, she would go on an exasperated rant on how stubborn she was in believing in santa, and threw a fit every time someone tried saying he wasn’t. she still loves christmas, the aesthetic, presents, cafes, specials, etc. and gets excited like a little kid. she begs maki to match outfits and go ice skating and get the special christmas cake with her. at heart she’s still a little girl in a lot of ways, even if she won’t admit it.

panda - he stills believes in santa. it’s a long going pact for no one to tell him that his dad is blackmailing everyone to let him keep believing. Despite being a rational creature who insists human are the silly ones, he abides by traditions strictly to ensure that santa will show up. yaga has basically been enforcing his belief because he finds it cute and it lets him act like a parent for at least a small while.

maki - was never allowed to believe in santa, didn’t even know what he was apart from the glances she and mai would get in store windows and atop strawberry cakes they were never allowed to have. the most joy they stole for themselves around that day was when it would snow. sneaking out of their room, they would draw shapes into the show and making matching snowmen for each other that they hid in bushes. when taken to help with shopping, they’d discreetly awe at the shining lights and everything they weren’t allowed to indulge in. when maki came to jujutsu high, it was simultaneously difficult and gratifying to partake in everything she was denied as a child. she loves junk food, so having kfc chicken and strawberry cake for the first time was life changing. she pretends to complain when nobara drags her out, but never puts up a fight for too long before they’re interlocking hands and looking into store windows that she had only ever been able to steal glances at. despite always vying to spite her family, sometimes she forgets the simplest way to do so is in living her life happily. that’s why, when nobara insists on pulling her into the ice skating ring, gripping her arms with a wide grin and a practiced ease in the way she skates them in circles, fingertips still warm from holding the hot chocolate, and eyes sparkling, maki can feel her walls melting down. when they eventually move into together, after everything, their wounds ache in the cold. nobara no longer has the confidence to go out into the city, not missing an eye and with a scarred face. it’s maki who gently drags her out, who pulls her under the christmas lights and pushes back her hair, presses her lips to her forehead and just holds her. despite everything, despite how much they lost, despite how maki’s heart burns every time she sees the snow, despite how nobara’s heart thunders every time someone looks for too long, they haven’t lost each other.

toge - like maki, he never even knew what santa was. growing up, he was seen as dangerous from the moment he opened his mouth. teaching him how to talk was seen as dangerous because the more words he knew, the more that could be used against them. so there was no outings, no TV, no visitors, nothing beyond the grounds he grew up in. he spent his entire childhood restricted until gojo intervened. but that’s for another time on my headcanon of his backstory ✨ so, coming into jujutsu high he was experiencing these things for the first time. gojo goes all out for christmas, so it was a heck of a first impression. at night, when everyone was asleep, he’d spend hours looking at their mini tree, hands around a cup of tee. the first present gojo gave him was a blue scarf, so he wasn’t always restricted to face masks. he signed it off as santa, but it took one alarmed look from a possible intruder for maki to tell him. he has a weird relationship with the holiday, like a new person coming into an established friendship, like an interloper. he enjoys it passively, but can’t help but feel like he’s intruding within it every time it comes around. though it’s the same for most, if not all, holidays. yuuta sees it despite how toge prides himself on hiding it from his friends, and takes every opportunity to prove him wrong. toge finds himself subject to traditions that still confuse him, but he never could deny the other. so at late hours he finds himself cutting paper snowflakes, listening to japanese christmas songs, watching too many movies about the elusive santa. at early hours, yuuta physically drags him from his bed, sometimes having too carry him, to open presents at too early of an hour. when yuuta leaves, christmas is cold again, and only vaguely feels right when they video call each other from opposite time zones. despite yuuta’s excitement of the holiday, he opens his present from miguel and gojo early so they can do it together.

yuuta - he grew up in a very normal household that did actually let him have a good experience with the holiday. he and his sister would decorate together, wake up as early as possible, and indulge in as many activities as they could. rika would join them later, snowball fights and arts and crafts that ended in sticky hands and laughter. when rika died, all of the joy went with her. his parents never actually told him santa wasn’t real, after rika died it just didn’t matter to him anymore. when his sister tried to initiate a snow ball fight, rika nearly broke her arm. after that, his household lived in a constant state of holding its breath. his sister tried and tried to reach out to him for everything they used to do, but again and again rika would hurt her until his parents physically pulled her away from him. when he was taken to be executed, he thought maybe his family would be able to celebrate christmas again. of course his first christmas eve at jujutsu high ended with him murdering his teachers gay lover, and freeing his childhood friend, but they did end up having a small celebration despite it all. after that, after he came back from abroad, after the war finally finished, he finally allowed himself to enjoy the holiday again. he spent hours decorating the little apartment he and toge were staying in, sheepishly scratching the back of his head when toge looked at the mistletoe with a raised eyebrow. he takes toge to markets and to the illuminations around the plazas and districts, trying to pretend like he didn’t spend hours researching the ideal holidate. despite that it’s toge that always gives him the perfect gift at the perfect time. the one he’d never be able to forget, was a product of those times he’d whisper in tears that he wished he knew how his sister was doing, too scared to reach out himself, wishing he’d get even postcard. he would never be able to forget the way toge squeezed his hand before pointing at a girl. even after a few years, he’d recognized her immediately. she hasn’t noticed them yet, intentionally on toge’s part, he was giving him a chance to decide. breathless, he called out her name, she turned to him and smiled with tears in her eyes, and for the first time in years they were allowed to hold each other other. he loves the holidays, loves his friends, his boyfriend, his sister, and loves that after everything, he was given the chance to live so joyously.

[astrowaffles]

Lights, Camera, ...Action?

General Audiences | Fluff, Chaos

"Megumi-seaurchinhead – that’s a really good name – asks, ‘Why do you have different last names?’”

“Do you know how hard it is to get a name change?” Megumi asked. “Especially if it’s a name you’d already had for ten years?”

“Hard both financially, legally, and emotionally,” Gojo listed. “Plus Megumi Fushiguro has such a ring to it.”

“I guess you could’ve become Satoru Fushiguro.”

“Yah, but I’m famous.”

“Point taken. Megumi Gojo is an okay name I guess, it’s just weird. I’ve been Fushiguro all my life.”

“It’s his mom’s name,” Gojo added. “It would be a shame to swap your mom’s name for your adoptive dad’s. That’s not very #feminism, is it?”

“Did you seriously just say the word ‘hashtag’?”

“Hashtag feminism, dude.”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me. You’re old and wrinkly, and cringe. Next question.”

------------

OR: the jjk actor/interview au we all wanted

“Sometimes people ask me if you’re, like, actually mine. And first of all, what do you mean, ‘actually’?? You’re literally my son? And second of all, if they mean biologically, how old do they think I am?! I was ten years old when you were born. And when you were conceived-“

Megumi coughed violently and nodded his head towards the camera. Gojo immediately stopped talking.

“We were rolling? Oh. Well. ….Shit.”

The screen fuzzed out with a loud BEEEEP.

-

-

“Hey, I’m Megumi Fushiguro, and I’m in Jujutsu Kaisen 0 this March.”

“I’m Satoru Gojo! I’m also in Jujutsu Kaisen 0 this March. What a funny coincidence.”

“We’re here today to read your most frequently asked questions-”

“And it’s Father’s Day! So there’ll be lots about our relationship.”

Megumi hummed. “I feel like we should probably explain that first.”

Gojo inched towards Megumi, closing the gap between them on the couch. Megumi, engrossed in trying to find the right words, didn’t notice until Gojo managed to get an arm over Megumi’s shoulders. Megumi jumped.

“Holy fuck, don’t do that,” he scolded, hand over his heart. Gojo snickered and turned to the camera.

“We’re father and son! Hence the Father’s Day interview.” Megumi opened his mouth, but Gojo quickly put a hand over it. “Don’t sweat the small stuff. Peace and love, Megumi! Onto the questions!”

A member of the crew placed two small bowls, full of slips of paper, on the table in front of them. They also handed Megumi a clipboard.

“So, these’re the rules,” Megumi announced, shrugging Gojo’s arm off. “We take a question from that bowl-“ he pointed – “and answer it. Truthfully,” he added, staring at Gojo. Gojo put his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, I never lie! Just bend the truth sometimes.”

“Yeah, whatever. Once you’re done with the paper, put it on the table – and not back into the bowl.” Another stare. Gojo looked away. “If you don’t want to answer the question, you don’t have to, but you do have to do a forfeit.” Megumi pointed to the other bowl.

“How am I supposed to remember which one is which?”

“Does anyone have a pen?”

A woman quickly handed Megumi a marker.

“Thanks.” Megumi picked up the first bowl, and scrawled QUESTIONS on it, and then FORFEITS on the other.

“Woah, Megs, your handwriting is awful,” Gojo commented, inspecting the scribbles.

“Thanks, I got it from you,” Megumi replied. He put the marker down on the table and finished scanning the rules. “That’s about it, I think.”

“You wanna go first?”

“I guess.” Megumi carefully pulled a slip from the bowl. “This is from fishbowlbrain on twitter. ‘Do Megumi and Yuuji actually get along, or is it just acting?’”

“Do they get along? You have no idea,” Gojo groaned. “They’re such menaces.”

“He’s only saying that because we convinced the publicist to sell stickers of Satoru,” Megumi confided to the camera.

“Yeah, stickers of horrible freeze-frame moments!”

“We caught him mid-sneeze,” Megumi cackled. “Ahh. Good times.”

“That was last week.”

“Good times.”

“Seriously, I wish they were just acting. They do literally everything together now. Saw them at the nail salon a few days ago.”

Megumi held up his hand to reveal his green nails. “Aren’t they cool? Yuuji got red.”

“Very cool.” Gojo crossed his arms.

“He’s also mad because we didn’t invite him,” Megumi told the camera. “Come on, Satoru. It’s your turn.”

“Oh, hell yes!” Gojo shoved his hand into the QUESTIONS bowl and rummaged around, spilling a few. Megumi rolled his eyes and collected the spilt questions, putting them back in the bowl once Gojo had removed his hand. “Ooh! This is a good one!” He cleared his throat. “This is a question from … gojosxrayeyes? … on twitter. ‘Did you audition for your roles in Jujutsu Kaisen because of your characters’ relationship, or was it a coincidence?’”

“Satoru didn’t actually audition properly,” Megumi sighed. “They kinda wrote the part for him. I didn’t know he was in it, since I didn’t run in to him during audition week, so it was complete coincidence.”

“I do sometimes wonder if they wrote Megumi’s part for him, too,” Gojo mused. “Why does it fit him so well otherwise? Why are our characters father and son otherwise?”

“I mean, they’re not really father and son,” Megumi countered. “What did they call it? Oh yeah, you’re my ‘benefactor’. You just pay for stuff. Like rent.”

“I love being rich,” Gojo nodded. “And Tsumiki – she’s not related to us at all. She’s really lovely though.”

“It wasn’t hard to act like she was my sister,” Megumi agreed. “It would be nice to have a sister. Someone who can distract Satoru before he drives me insane.”

“No comment,” Gojo said. “Anyway, yeah! Coincidence, although I swear Megumi was a muse for someone involved. Your turn, Megs!”

Megumi picked another piece of paper out. “Yuujislefteyebrow wants to know why you always wear sunglasses.”

“What, in Jujutsu Kaisen? Only time will tell, my friend,” Gojo answered, wiggling his fingers mysteriously. “But in real life, I’m just susceptible to migraines.” He shrugged. “My turn!”

This time, Megumi put a hand to the edge of the bowl to prevent spilling. Gojo grinned and purposefully knocked their hands together as he took a piece of paper. Megumi punched his arm.

“Ow, Megumi! That hurt!” Gojo turned to the crew. “Did you see that? Did you see that? My own son-“

“Please read the question, Mr Gojo,” a woman’s voice said. Megumi sniggered.

“Yeah, Mr Gojo. Get on with it.”

“I am, I am! Ahem. Megumi-seaurchinhead – that’s a really good name – asks, ‘Why do you have different last names?’”

“Do you know how hard it is to get a name change?” Megumi asked. “Especially if it’s a name you’d already had for ten years?”

“Hard both financially, legally, and emotionally,” Gojo listed. “Plus Megumi Fushiguro has such a ring to it.”

“I guess you could’ve become Satoru Fushiguro.”

“Yah, but I’m famous.”

“Point taken. Megumi Gojo is an okay name I guess, it’s just weird. I’ve been Fushiguro all my life.”

“It’s his mom’s name,” Gojo added. “It would be a shame to swap your mom’s name for your adoptive dad’s. That’s not very #feminism, is it?”

“Did you seriously just say the word ‘hashtag’?”

“Hashtag feminism, dude.”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me. You’re old and wrinkly, and cringe. Next question.”

Gojo opened his mouth, then closed it. “You got me there.”

“I know I do. Here’s another question: ‘how do you get yourself to cry at sad moments?’”

“I am an emotional wreck at the best of times,” Gojo laughed. “I just think of a Mitski song or something.”

“Personally, I just get really in character. As Satoru said, my character is very similar to me, so if he’s crying, it’s probably a situation where I’d cry too. That’s sad enough as it is.”

“I don’t think you’ve cried in JJK, though?” Gojo thought for a moment. “I suppose even if you did we couldn’t mention it. It might be a spoiler. Wait, have I even cried?”

“Your character doesn’t really show emotions, does he? I might have cried once, or something. But I’ve cried more in other parts, and the same method worked for them. It’s always a sad moment anyway, so you just have to feel the mood and the emotions of your part, I guess.”

“Of course you have the perfect, actor-y answer,” Gojo sulked. “Now I just look stupid.”

“Listen, I just think Mitski’s more cathartic than sad,” Megumi shrugged.

“Bonus question, what’s your favourite Mitski song?” someone called from the back.

“Call me basic, but I like Francis Forever,” Megumi answered.

“Oh, that one is cathartic. I’m more of a Liquid Smooth man myself.”

“That one’s good too. But is that really one that makes you cry?”

“Nah. Have you ever seen Fruits Basket?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well. Now think of First Love/Late Spring but with Hatori.”

There was a pause while Megumi tried to focus on the image.

“…….Oh my god.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can actually see how this would work,” Megumi laughed shakily, fanning his face. “No, literally, this is working too well-“

“Wait, actually?” Gojo handed Megumi a tissue, obviously fighting a giggle. “I didn’t take you for someone who easily cried.”

“I’m not, I just really like Hatori, okay? They were in love, Satoru!”

“I know, I know. Shall we move on before this gets worse?”

Megumi blew his nose. “Please.”

Gojo rustled in the bowl for a bit. “Sunshineyellow says ‘how does Satoru feel about the possibility of their being a ‘real’ father for Megumi’s character in season 2?’ Woah, one step at a time, sunshineyellow! We’ve only just done season one – and the movie’s not even out yet!”

“Also, there’s a whole thing about what a douchebag he was,” Megumi interjected. “Yeah, the guy would be a biological father, but my character absolutely despises him. Why would we feel upset by that?”

“True, true. I think you do have to bear the context in mind. Also, they’re just characters! Separate real life from fiction, guys. I personally have a fabulous work/life balance.”

“So true. He forces me to lock my scripts away when I get home.”

Gojo gave Megumi a high five. “That’s how it should be!”

Megumi picked another question. “Toadinthehole asked ‘Why did they pair you up to do this interview? Surely Megumi should be with Yuji and Nobara?’”

“And then who would they put me with?” Gojo pointed out. “Most of the adult characters have minor roles and as a teacher, I interact most with the kids. If they put me with Kento or Suguru, it might actually be weirder.”

“Also, it’s Father’s Day. I’m here with my dad.”

Gojo immediately snapped his head to look at Megumi. “Did you just say what I thought you said?”

“Probably?”

“Awh, Megs!” Gojo launched himself at Megumi, wrapping every limb around him. “You’re so cute sometimes!”

Megumi said something, but Gojo was squashed over his microphone. Eventually, a crew member came to peel Gojo off.

“Sheesh, it’s not something to overreact over,” Megumi huffed, attempting to straighten himself out.

“It totally is.”

“I say it all the time.”

“And it gets better every time!”

“Would it deflate you to know that Yuji is doing this interview with Mr Nanami?”

Gojo paused. “They’re not related, are they?”

“No, but they do have a similar dynamic to us in the show, don’t they?”

“I guess so….”

“Yuji literally said that Mr Nanami is his TV dad.”

“He kinda is! That’s so sweet. Does that make me and Kento dad friends…?”

Megumi sighed heavily. “Maybe they should let us do an interview together. Like, the four of us.”

“Let Nobara join too! Wait, she doesn’t have a TV parent. What are we gonna do?!”

“Give her Shoko and let her join…?”

“I like it.” Gojo turned to the crew behind the camera. “Are you writing this down?”

“Don’t be rude to them,” Megumi chided. “But you know what would be cool? One of those interviews where you play with cats.”

“Oh my god, yeah! We could…”

Their voices faded as the screen turned to black. Text appeared in the centre of the screen: they got a bit distracted, so we have to cut out this bit. It’s just them talking about cats for fifteen minutes. Let’s get ourselves back on track …

The image returned and the audio faded back in. Gojo had shifted so he was sitting with an ankle crossed over his knee, arm slung casually over the back of the sofa. Megumi rooted in the bowl for another question.

“Oh, here we go! ‘Beside your own character and each other’s, who’s your favourite character in JJK?’”

“Ooh! Ooh! Nanami! I think he’s really cool. He’s just got a knife, maths, and the power of refusing to work overtime.”

Megumi laughed. “I’ve never heard it put like that before. Personally, I like Yuta – you won’t really know who he is since you haven’t seen the film yet, so I won’t say much. I just think it’s awesome how he keeps winning with the literal power of love.”

“Hell yeah! Peace and love!” Gojo beamed. “Can we do some forfeits now?”

“What, without the questions?”

“Yeah, I’m curious as to what they’re gonna make us do.” Gojo pulled one out of the bowl. “’Do ten star jumps.’ Well, that one’s boring. You can do that one for me.” He tossed the paper to Megumi, who grumbled something about it being Gojo’s idea, but stood up and started doing it anyway. “This one’s better. ‘Tell us the worst thing you’ve ever eaten’.”

“Isn’t that just another question?” Megumi puffed, on his fifth star jump.

“Yeah, but it’s an embarrassing question. And the answer is earthworms, when I was seven.”

“What?!”

“I know! Don’t I seem far too elegant to ever eat worms?”

Megumi collapsed onto the sofa, breathing heavily. “Don’t ever make me do exercise again.”

“Oh, you big drama queen. You and I both know about your 5k before bed.”

“Listen, it’s just relaxing-“

“Yeah, yeah. Pick another forfeit.”

“’Chug a bottle of sprite’. Uh, no.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I mean no. I want another one.”

“How about ‘tell us your most embarrassing dream?’ Don’t tell me about your sex dreams, though.”

“You’re my dad, why would I ever do that.”

“We have a close relationship and we’re really close in age, you know. You might feel that I am a safe space-“

“Yeah, no. My most embarrassing dream was the time I dreamt I tried to do a skateboard trick but landed flat on my face.”

“That wasn’t a dream, that happened when you were nine.”

“Was there an audience of mermaids laughing at me?”

“No…?”

“Then it was a dream. A very bad dream.”

“You only have time for one last thing, either a forfeit or a question,” a crew member called out. Gojo pouted.

“Is it because we wasted all your time talking about cats?”

“Yeah,” the cameraman said.

“My bad, sorry,” Megumi apologised, reaching for QUESTIONS. “Let’s do one last question, shall we?”

“Yeah, these forfeits are bad.”

“Don’t be rude. Satorusshinyslipper says, ‘Tell us one thing we probably won’t know about making Jujutsu Kaisen.’”

“What, anything?”

“Anything, I guess.”

They both thought for a minute.

“Oh! I have one. My demon dogs are my actual dogs.”

“Ohhh, that is a good one,” Gojo agreed.

“They’re called Toast and Maple and they are absolute sweethearts,” Megumi smiled. “And they love Yuuji. It was so hard to stop Maple from just running over to him whenever we were filming.”

“Or me,” Gojo added. “Obviously, they live with me and have for ages now, and I’m like their bestie-“

“Keep dreaming.”

“I am! Anyway, it was worse with me because I usually wasn’t on stage during their scenes, so they kept trying to run off camera. We are so lucky Megumi is a master dog trainer or whatever.”

“’Or whatever’,” Megumi mimicked. “You’re so kind.”

“I know.” Gojo turned to the camera. “I guess that’s it, folks! Thanks for joining us-“

“And remember to catch Jujutsu Kaisen 0 ASAP. It’s actually a really good film, even if I do say so myself.”

“He’s right, you know. Like, subscribe, hit the bell – do whatever you gotta do. Keep watching JJK, and keep up with your favourite actors! Peace out!”

“What he said.”

The credits rolled.

A03 | Exclusives | Tip Me | Commissions

[noroifish]

in here it could have been different

(let me tell you a story where it could have been different. i am here, telling the story, where it could have been different.)

HE THAT IS KNOWN NOW AS RYOMEN SUKUNA 両面宿儺 is itadori sukuna 虎杖宿儺 under the mirror, whose brother is famous for inadvisable stunts of physical prowess and who himself is famous on the jujutsu college campus for being A Grade A Asshole.

sukuna follows his pissant twin under the subdued lights of the jazz club "because this club doesn't suck! it's got that stupid fucking PIZZAZZ JAZZ or whatever you like! ALSO YOU NEED TO FIND SOMEONE TO FUCK SO YOU STOP THAT BITCH-ASS MOOD, SUKUNA. get good." in sukuna's opinion, this club does suck, even if the low thrum of the plucked contrabass and the seductive howling of the horn and the trill of the sax is putting his mind at ease.

yuuji abandons him the second he sees his girlfriend, though, the soft, worn leather of her deceased mother's leather jacket curling across her shoulders as she turns her head, blowing her bangs out of the way to greet her boyfriend. junpei is the best thing to ever happen to yuuji, even grumpy ass sukuna can admit that.

but it makes his fucking stomach twist to see yuuji so happy.

sukuna has never been, and may never be, that happy.

he sits down, ordering a club soda and propping his head up at his lone seat at the bar, glaring away any woman that gets too friendly with him and snarling at any man. he doesn't want to pick up, he doesn't want another one night stand (YUUJI: more like one HOUR with your bitch ass), where he has to, to...

do what's expected of me. as someone that cuts up past six feet tall and fucking, looks like he knows how to throw an uppercut, with the hard thighs and hard ass that come from fucking, trying to keep, trying to keep up and outpunch any thought that just, any thought.

sukuna inside himself is very small.

"hey," someone says from beside him, with a soft, silken voice like iron.

sukuna shivers. he's about to pull his tongue out to say, "get the fuck away from me," but then he takes a look at her and forgets to close his mouth.

she's really beautiful. the slightest eyeliner cutting the edges of her eyes, her thick, full lashes all natural, though, her half-lidded gaze easily seductive, taking his breath away, stilling it sharp and prickly in his throat, his chest hurts looking at her, with her pursed, haughty lips glossed in sticky, pale pink, and her thin, linen jacket cutting a delicate silhouette. her clothes are all the same shade of deep, dark night blue, down to the pointed tips of her shoes, and the way she smiles at him, just the barest deigning of a twitch of the lips, revealing her sharp teeth...

sukuna didn't really think he was stupid. but he's looking at her and he's instantly forgotten every word he has ever known, including his own name, his brother's name, the name of his brother's sole happiness, and the first dog he ever had.

"hello?" she says.

"H," sukuna manages.

she laughs, meanly, definitely at him, his expense, and he smiles stupidly at her, halfway in love, just waiting for her to laugh at him some more...to do something...her sea urchin hair is so beautiful, royal, and mermaid-fair...

sukuna blurts, "have you heard of the legend where you eat the flesh of a mermaid you become immortal."

the sea-urchin princess smiles indulgently at him. "no, tell me more."

"that's all i really know. i, you're, uh. it's because i, you. FUCK, i'm not. uhh."

"mm-hmm, and?"

"I...my. I'M SUKUNA."

"my name is megumi. here, give me your phone. i'll show you the kanji. "

sukuna hands her his phone in a daze. he almost hands her his wallet, but she gives it back to him and tucks it back in his pants pocket. he thinks he may be drooling. she's so beautiful. her eyes are glittering in the low light with amusement at his expense, definitely at his expense, but she moves so gently and she's so lovely, he wants her to say more.

"here, take a look. i texted myself with your phone so i have your number. i wouldn't want to miss out on seeing you again."

"yeah...huh? oh. megumi." sukuna remembers how to read.

she put a little heart next to her name.

she's so........................

"for godsend, or blessing. my dad didn't care about the gender of his child when he had one. so, megumi."

"hmm?"

"are you listening?"

"Yeah."

"really?"

"mm-hmm."

"what did i just say?"

sukuna tilts his head. she laughs behind her hand.

"uhhh. wait. you said that your dad didn't care about the gender of his kid. isn't, like, isn't megumi a normal name? for a girl to have?"

"oh? you don't think i'm a man? even if i look like this?"

sukuna blinks slowly, watching her beautiful mouth as it moves. he doesn't like kissing but he thinks maybe he'd reconsider if it meant he could touch that mouth with his mouth.

"you, uhh, aren't a woman?"

"no, i am. but i don't look like one. at all, really."

sukuna doesn't really understand and frowns a little.

"hmm...interesting. are you?"

"am i?" sukuna says, leaning in to the softness of her voice and her beckoning fingers.

she touches his cheek, the side of his neck, sliding her hand into his hair, her long, long fingers stroking up against the soft stubble of his undercut. he closes his eyes. she pulls his head in until he's curled over her, pressing his forehead into the side of her neck, which smells SO good, unspeakably good, inarticulately good. she smells warm and gentle and clean, with a faint herbal fragrance like sleepy ancient medicine and tall, wild flowers.

he sighs, reaching out for her willowy waist, and clumsily puts his big ugly paws on the dip of her side.

"mm, good girl," she whispers, hot into his ear.

he gasps at the frisson of heat it sends through him, down through his spine and curling around his cock.

"anyone waiting for you?" she says.

he shakes his head, panting lightly into her neck, her voice is so breathy, just barely tipping deep and warm and so, so gentle.

"i assume you're not seeing anyone?"

sukuna nuzzles into her neck, panting.

"what are you doing to me," he slurs. "GOD, whatever you're doing, don't stop..."

"sukuna, are you seeing anyone?" she says firmly.

"no, im single. haven't, haven't fucked for, i have my, i'm clean. so i. i'm tested, im clean."

"you're in luck, so am i. but i'm not going to fuck you. tonight."

sukuna whines.

"come home with me anyway. we'll sit together, get to know each other."

sukuna feels hurt, and a little unwanted, and he fidgets, biting his lip, fractious.

"shh. let's do this right. i want to do right by you. let me tell you a secret..."

sukuna realizes he needs to respond. "yeah?"

"i want to keep you. so i want to do this right."

"come home with you?"

"mm-hmm. let's go."

megumi finishes his club soda in one gulp and he watches her throat bob, the knot of it going up and down, and he wants to suck on it, right there.

megumi nips his ear with his teeth, and he feels himself full body flush, gasping at the jolt of pain and the line of heat to his cock.

"let's go."

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 6: beginning

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | next | m.list

chapter synopsis:

'“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be shy and scatterbrained, or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen, when in reality it’s just what I want to happen. But this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.”

You haven’t told her you love her too in years.'

'And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.”

“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.”

“You love him a lot,” Megumi says.

---

You and Megumi set out to prevent an emergency involving Yuuji and a cursed object. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen. But at least everyone is fine in the end, even if it means you'll have to walk away from almost everything (or maybe it's the other way around).

You're going to be all on your own. Still, now it seems like this will hurt less now.

word count: ~8k; tws: none for now :)

17-6-2018 

The two of you walk down the lane. It’s midnight. There’s a loitering silence in the air, no words exchanged between you and him, and it twists your heart in brief moments of hurt when you’re not trying to keep your mind occupied with other things. Your legs move subconsciously without you caring to think of them, the route to the hospital ingrained in your mind as if intrinsically there. 

At some point, you think your hand with its sweat and its grip is going to leave imprints like a marring on his skin, but it’s of your own selfishness that you choose to hold onto his wrist anyway. 

There’s a million things you could say to him right now, things you’ll forcefully push to the very back of your throat, things you’ll keep under lock and key in a mangled mix of quiet anticipation and sombre anxieties. Right now you’re holding his wrist and that’s enough for you, to have him walking behind you if not beside, to be two people near each other— not together— in silence since any conversation is not an option; any conversation could lead to the last spark needed to be fanned into the flame for it to erupt bigger and brighter than ever before. 

If you asked about Tsumiki right now, or why either of them never bothered to speak to you since 2016, it could break you apart, of that you’re sure. And even without words it threatens to do so to you like a chandelier of melting wax candles hanging above you being suspended precariously from the ceiling or light lightning soon to be thrown down mercilessly from the sky. 

“The turning to Sendai Hospital is on the right.” 

“I know the routes better,” you let out, and rather disappointingly it sounds brasher and more derogatory aloud instead of the unobtrusive tone you were aiming for— you hope it doesn’t hurt him but then wonder why you still even cared that much about how he felt about what you said or did anyway, “I got myself accustomed to taking the one on the left that leads you through. Quick shortcut and all.” 

You’re not looking back, but the light pull of his hand from the hold of your wrist seems to suggest his slight reeling back in a small sense of surprise and an equal amount of shock, as if suddenly remembering the fact you were your own person, that you had your own autonomy as one, because somehow everyone thought you weren’t. 

It’s strange to look back at how you were before: meek, timid. Too shy to speak up. Too innocent to be angered by anything. Always dreaming, mind bleary as if on a cloud in blurred skies, hiding behind the backs of others like a petrified forest critter. 

And now you’re this— this person who frowns and disagrees and retorts at every little thing, and as much as you have to, as much as it was nearly inevitable the way you turned out, all you can think you share with the person you were when you first met Megumi and Tsumiki was your need to be useful— and even that has been exacerbated by how you’ve grown, how you’ve become this person you grew into. And a part of you— no, just you as a whole— doesn’t like yourself at all. 

Your father was right. That little girl was hopeful, obedient, kind, caring— you don’t know why even then you were dissatisfied with the way you were, or why your dissatisfaction would matter because at that time you’d cared so little about everything besides caring for people and having fun with the pair of siblings that you were so rarely bothered by it, that it was still just a slight whisper from the back of your head that could be shushed or tuned out with library visits and nights in front of the TV and the glow of old cartoons. Your father was right and this is proved even more by the fact that the whole situation just infuriates you on the surface, and just makes you feel like an empty, hollow shell left behind when you reach deeper into yourself. 

That little girl had potential, potential to be useful but kind, obedient and close to the people who raised her even if it meant abandoning her own ideals. But you’d been so devoted to them, you think, that she was killed and destroyed in the world she grew up in, and now there’s a space for her that’s left vacant due to the way she wasted away. You miss her, the girl you once were, you miss being her, how easy and lighthearted everything was and how all of you felt so content in every sense of the word. But you don’t want her back. Now that’s just what makes you miserable sometimes. 

Self-reflection just made you feel revolted by yourself. You keep your eyes on the road. 

“It’s here,” you state, pointing at the building in front of you. 

Sendai General Hospital is an institution made out of bare concrete. Its walls are yellowed and close in on its wards like a prison, coloured using old paint that hasn’t been repainted over and is as pallid-looking as the skin of the people sitting on the beds it is inhabited by. Just being in it feels like a hit to the body and the brain and the senses, too. There are old-fashioned tiles on its floors, their pale beige hue muted yet the blinding shine on them harshly mopped clean. Inside it reeks of an imminent presence of sickness or death or illnesses and conditions never to be able to be defeated and sterile sanitisers. Looking at the latex-blue curtains in it feels like a blindfold unwantedly, forcefully pulled over both your vision and your ears. 

“You and that Itadori seem close.” 

“We are,” you say, then you add, not really knowing why, “He’s my best friend.” Maybe you’re trying to make him jealous, rile him up a bit. But even then you wouldn’t want him to be riled up, nor would you be satisfied if he were to keep silent. Maybe you just wanted to hurt him, to hurt him back or something, if only for something small, even if you’d already resolved not to do so. 

You’ll make sure not to do that again, though. 

Instead he does something else, takes another route instead. “Then it seems you visit his grandfather often.” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod as the two of you enter the hospital, and you have to blink a few times as always in order to adjust yourself to the light and how it reflects off the detachedly clean floor. “My mother’s here, too.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry— is she alright?” 

“She’s okay, I… think. She… she got sick a while back and stays here now,” you explain, “Let’s not talk about that…—I mean, I… don’t really want to.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to keep saying that.” It just makes people feel worse. 

He doesn’t push further and you suppose that’s okay. Your chest hurts a bit, like phantom pain on a wound that’s still there. There’s not really a way to explain it but almost everything makes you feel that way these days. Everything makes you feel horrible to some degree. Maybe it’s being a girl, maybe it’s being a teenager, but it’s not quite either, you guess. 

“He won’t be here for a while,” you say, “He’s either still in the room where his grandfather is or he’s buying flowers for him.” 

“Then I’ll just contact them and let them know the whole situation first.” 

Who’s ‘them’? 

“Okay.” You turn your back on him, “—wait.” 

“What?” 

“Do you have any emergency contact or something? Like, a trusted adult who could help you with any of this? In case things go really bad?” 

“...why would you need one?” he questions. 

You roll your eyes, “Just give it to me, damn it… if there’s anything I have nowadays, it’s probably foresight for stuff like this. For emergencies.” 

He gives you the number, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Why’d he have to be so pissy about anything and everything? 

“Okay, thanks. I’m going to visit my mother now.” 

The air and the colour from it seems distant as always, the ward she was basically imprisoned in smelling of the indistinguishable mix of sanitiser and sickness. There her body chains her to her bed, and there is little she can do besides rely on and weakly cling to the nurses who assist her, a frail shadow of what she once was. 

“Hi, Mummy.” 

She turns to you, and your chest constricts. Her hair, once much longer, the type that you dreamed to have as it billowed in the wind, the type that invited you caressively to bury yourself in and take in that heady scent of roses that emanated from it— that hair is now replaced with a cloth wrapped around her head. Radiation. Chemotherapy. 

The wrinkles on her face make the difference between her now and her years ago all the more stark. Every visit you come back here, you’ve forced yourself to be acclimated to this new reality, one where she isn’t waiting at home no matter how tedious the fights get or how exhausting it was eating with someone who remained silent, someone who chose to continue suffering if it meant she could hurt and turn her daughter to guilt (as if that would change anything). At least she was there. 

Cancer is a terminal illness, especially the type your mother is facing— regardless of how much chemotherapy she would struggle through and how much you didn’t want to acknowledge a truth so plain and conspicuously bare, she would be confined to this bed until her final days, her illness like gyves tying her limbs and forcing her earthbound; the bed a cage she could never be liberated from. 

Sometimes she made it a point to you that she didn’t want to liberate herself from it anyway, and you’d never been so depressed yet irked by anything else. (You’d regret everything— not spending time with her, not appreciating her nearly enough— except for your decision to be involved in the Jujutsu world, if not as a sorcerer then as a doctor. That was, and is— your ultimatum. Your end all be all of this whole situation.” 

“Hello. Where’s that Itadori boy?” 

“Not here today, he’s still with his grandfather— maybe later.” You swing your bag over your shoulder, rummaging through it a while before pulling it out. “I’ve something for you, by the way.” 

“Oh! These,” she exclaims, and she smiles faintly, bits of colour rushing back to her face like watercolour dots on moistened paper. “I used to make them for you, sometimes. They used to be your favourite when you were really little.” 

“I know,” you explain, “That’s why I made them. I don’t like them anymore, but… I can’t remember your favourite food or if I ever asked, and I know you don’t like the food they give you here as much as… I don’t know. Your own cooking, I guess.” 

“It’s not my favourite,” she states, matter-of-factly, bluntly, “But thank you for the effort. My favourite will always be my own mother’s cooking.” 

Silence. 

“Now that I look back at everything, there are so many things I regret. Things I should have done but never did out of fear; things I should not have done and never apologised for out of pride. I’d like it if you could be different. Your grandmother went out the same way. At least, even if you had the same illnesses as we did, which I hope the genes for which have been curbed by your father’s— at least you would not leave the world with regret,” she looks down at her hands, staring down at them solemnly like a shadow, an excluded figure. “But it was a good life.” 

“...then maybe you can tell me more. While you— while we still have time. What was your childhood like? What was your mother like?” It feels strange, imposturous, maybe— to be referring to someone basically a stranger as “grandmother”, to name someone so far away from you so intimate, even if the only generation between you, tying the two of you together, was your mother’s. If you had a daughter it would be the same for her, most likely. There’s a part of you that would find honour in becoming your mother once you’d grown, but there’s a part of you that would think being such would accost you horribly, for all time. 

She sighs, “I’ll tell you later. There would be so much to say, like compressing all my words into one tiny paper. The stories have weight in them the same way letters and words in handwriting can be firm and large. But if I were to start,” she begins, “I’ll say that I was born as the daughter of two very powerful sorcerers. Now, I know how much this would sound like some nonsense spouted by your mother, but I think you should listen anyway. 

“My parents loved each other a lot, but my mother had come from an obscure clan whose name I can’t remember, but who had high hopes in them having a child with a powerful cursed technique as their last resort, since, if I recall correctly, there had been a crisis within the clan for it to keep surviving. 

“I still remember when they found out I had no cursed technique and how terrified they were. In me I had a bit more than the relatively normal amount of cursed energy most people have, and so I was expected to have techniques as powerful as they did. They loved me and treated me preciously, like a fragile object, so long as I was quiet and demure— and I guess to some extent I still was and still am today. They wondered what they could do to run from the clan, as if they didn’t have enough power when they were supposed to protect me despite my father’s bullheaded industry and my mother’s patience-formed strength. They lacked grit to grapple against them, and only in this did they lack it, I think; only against my mother’s family did they not have the ability to resolve things whether peacefully or violently. And eventually they just gave up and thought they would just… surrender me over when I entered my adolescent years. I was their daughter. I… suppose they didn’t love me enough. I know it sounds awful— thinking that they should have always protected me, through and through—” 

“No, it wasn’t.” 

“—when it could have been the clan itself that would have been mostly to blame.” 

“But they were still supposed to protect you! They were your parents—” 

“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be a shy and scatterbrained or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen when in reality it’s just what I want to happen, but this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.” You haven’t told her you love her too in years. 

“But then when I was an adult I met your father, who was a bit like a country bumpkin, but a formidable sorcerer and a kind, honest person, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with the person he was both inside and out. And for the next few years we struggled to have a child until I found out I was pregnant with you,” she continues, “Even though by that time I was well into my late thirties, we were overjoyed and decided to keep you.” 

Suddenly you wish there had been more time before things were ruined. Time for you to know her better, the beginning of your existence. You would have begged her for old photos, stories, mementos of her and your father. 

“And now the clan’s faded into obscurity, finally. The younger members left and the older ones passed away peacefully. Happy story, right?” 

“...yeah.” It all ended well, but you don’t know if you can say the same for your mother’s. At least, you hope, when she goes away, it can be swift and peaceful like the way her relatives did. 

Then suddenly there’s a buzz in your pocket. An inconvenient one, out of the blue. 

“You should go get that first,” she says. 

“...okay.” 

You lift it up to your face and feel like crushing the damn thing. Old number. Stupid number. Number you haven’t called in months because you’d given up on that bastard— oh. The two of you were working together now. 

You turn away from your mother, creeping to the edge of the room. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just talked to him, but I think it would be easier if you came back and was there with him too since you know him better than I do. And he… doesn’t seem like the brightest. He may think that it’s not important enough to hand over unless you ask him to or something.” 

You muffle your voice with your hand and whisper, “Hey, you shut up, you know nothing about him. He’s way smarter than people give him credit for. But I’m— I’m with my mother right now. Wait for a second. Just ask him to wait for me first; he wouldn’t need any of my help for all of this yet. Make a friend or get a life or something.” 

“...fine. But you’ll have to join us later. He’s bound to ask about you.” 

“Then just tell him I’m with my mother!” you snap, still whispering. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” 

“Wh— you little— oh, don’t you hang up now—” 

Weird thing is, he probably wasn’t even being so infuriating on purpose. And you wouldn’t have burst out at someone for being that way anyway. It was only because it was him, specifically. 

You’d sworn to put that past you. 

Your immaturity strikes once again. 

“If you have to go now,” your mother says, “You should. Just come back again next time. I can tell you the rest. Thank you again for the food, [Name].” She doesn’t call you ‘darling’ anymore, doesn’t she? Just your name. 

“Okay. Sorry.” 

You swing the bag back over your shoulder, wearing it this time instead of taking it off, easing your way out of the room. 

“It’s okay,” she assures you, “Goodbye. I love you.” 

“...I love you, too,” you say, but it’ll mingle with all the other sounds in the hospital, and it’ll be drowned out like a ship in the middle of nowhere, your voice soft and thoroughly soused by the cacophony of bleak noises like telephone rings and beeps from electrocardiographs outside of her deafeningly quiet hospital room. 

“Hi, Yuuji,” you greet them in the dimly lit waiting area, “...and Megumi. Sorry to keep the two of you guys waiting for so long.” 

“Oh, hey; it’s okay!” he goes, although in his voice it seems that there’s been some of his usual energy seeping away from him. “Didn’t know the two of you knew each other until just now or that you were a part of some magic curse society. Are you guys childhood friends who met because of all that cursed stuff or something?” 

“Something like that,” Megumi explains. 

“It’s a long story,” you say, not exactly denying him nor conceding his words anyway. Once again, there’s a trace of anger despite your promise to be untethered to your puerility like this. “Anyway, are you okay, Yuuji? How’s your grandfather?” 

He pauses. “Oh, about that… he just passed away.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Yuuji…” you hold the fabric of his jacket (sometimes it still feels wrong to try and hold his hand— it just makes your heart ache again like a scab being clawed at) and pull him into a brief caress, patting his back as gently as you can manage. 

“It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” he smiles as you pull yourself away, “Grandpa wouldn’t want me to be crying right now anyway. So don’t worry.” 

“Okay, I won’t. But if you’re sad, just know you can always talk to me.” 

He laughs, softer than the boisterous manner he usually does so in, “Yeah, I know.” 

Megumi clears his throat, pointedly trying to make a sound, “Anyway. Itadori Yuuji—” 

“Just call him Itadori. You don’t have to be so uptight.” 

“Nah, [Name], I’m fine—” 

Megumi sighs. “Anyway, we need you to give the cursed object now.” 

“Oh, yeah, that,” you start, “So, Yuuji, do you have the thing that Megumi would have explained to you? The cursed object? We need it for everyone to be safe, and all.” 

“Yeah! Hold on, let me get it. I told you I didn’t have it already, but here’s the box,” he says, tossing it over to Megumi. 

He retrieves the box. It’s ancient and wooden, the craftsmanship behind it elite and adroit, and the paper on it has the words for a buddhist sutra written on it like an inscription. You’ve heard of it before, the kind of curse it was meant to seal, but it definitely couldn’t be— 

He opens the box. 

Holy shit. 

“Where is it?” 

“It’s empty…” Megumi panics, “Wait— hold on!” 

Things are bad— as in, they couldn’t get any worse— not only was the school doomed by the loss of its cursed object, the cursed object was Sukuna Ryomen’s finger itself. 

You blame your inadequacy, your inability to have stopped everything sooner— if not for that nobody would have gotten hurt. If not for that there wouldn’t even be a risk of anything happening anyway. You should’ve tried harder to sense it, and you should’ve focused more on it to keep the student body safe and sound. 

It was your fault. No one else was to blame but your useless self, and even if that were wrong, you’d still have the most to be blamed for. 

Megumi has a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, keeping the other boy from moving, his breathing erratic and his eyes wide in frantic shock. 

“...well, they were saying, ‘let’s open it up to see what’s inside it tonight’,” Yuuji clarifies, standing a few centimetres away from the door, “Why? Is that bad?” 

Sasaki and Iguchi? 

The air in the hospital feels particularly chilly tonight, gooseflesh terrorising your skin all over, and for all the kinds of reasons that would cause anything like such. 

“It’s way worse than bad,” Megumi declared, fear and grim so thick in his voice they were tangible enough to be cut through with a knife. “Your friends are going to die.” 

“We’ve got to go,” you rush, “Now! Quick!” 

It passes by like a blur, as if you’re in that moment and out of it simultaneously. Your mind has been bombarded with and pressed so thoroughly onto the moment, like tissue on a wet surface, that it seems it’s being blanked out, while your legs continue to run despite your mind nearly forgetting, at this point, why you’re running— as if your legs moving so frantically to help them was something intrinsic, something you didn’t need your mind for. 

Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. 

You didn’t know them all too well, really— just through Yuuji, and Yuuji himself wasn’t as close to the two of them, being their junior and all. And although a part of you was doing this just because you could, like the way you did when you first discovered your cursed technique, you knew that another was doing this for Yuuji. If in any way they were hurt or could not survive, he would blame himself to no end. He possessed such a kindness within him, so much that it hit the depths of your soul sometimes; shattered your heart so gently a million times over or heated it in the kindly way mothers heated pans on stoves despite the heat of it being greater than that of blue flame. If anything happened to them, no matter how much or how little he knew of them, he wouldn’t be able to live after that. 

The two of them are near the barrier separating the school from the street before you (you struggle with catching up to them— one’s a star athlete and another has been training for much longer than you, you’re sure), the gates tall and enveloped in darkness. You didn’t think much of school except for when it came to your grades and being with Yuuji, thinking of these gates— the ones that you and Yuuji use when you’re running super late— in particular as just a shortcut entrance you paid little attention to, just something treated with indifference as you passed through them whenever you were late. Yet now they echoed denial, refusal, and slim chances— it was unlikely that they’d be alright, especially since this cursed object in particular was the finger of Sukuna Ryomen. 

“Is that the building?” Megumi questions, “Where are they?” 

“Fourth floor— guh!” Yuuji seems to come to an abrupt halt, nearly slamming into what seems to be an invisible wall. A veil. 

“Yuuji!” 

“I’ll handle this,” Megumi declares, hopping onto the metal wires, more directed to Yuuji than you. So even he can tell how selfless Yuuji is, even after only having just met him. 

“I may not know those two that well, but—” Yuuji starts, “But they’re friends! I have to help!” 

“You’re staying here,” Megumi commands, “[Name], if you could— get your father or any sorcerers you know to come here and help.” 

He climbs over the gate. 

He’s going away from you again. Slipping away from your grasp. And now, all you can do is watch. There’s nothing else— nothing else you can do, at all. If you went inside now, you wouldn’t be able to help except— what?— tend to their injuries? Manipulate your own cells into weapons? The former wasn’t possible with how much you’d strained yourself from running so quickly earlier, and the latter was too dangerous: you hadn’t even started with the basics of that yet, on your father’s obstinate insistence that even if he’d let you play doctor he wouldn’t let you manipulate any of the cells in your body into any kind of usable weapon. Any simple wrong move could make things turn south in the most drastically terrifying of ways. If you went in there, you’d just die, and there’d be more casualties, more trouble, more problems caused by you and you alone. 

You can’t even call your father, either. That would always be your last resort— because even if you fought, you still needed him to rest. You didn’t want him overexerting himself by using his cursed technique at all. 

(You were selfish. You didn’t want to lose your father. You didn’t want to have to visit not one but two parents lying sick and tired and grey in matching hospital beds.) 

“Yuuji?” you start, turning to him. “You’re…deathly quiet. Are you okay?” 

His lips quiver slightly, a faint whimpering noise coming out of him. Is he crying? 

“Yuuji, look at me. Are you okay?” you ask, as gently and softly as you can right now, despite your ragged, unsteady, unathletic-addled breaths. You place a hand on his shoulder, slowly rubbing up and down from his shoulder and crook of his neck to his back. “It’s okay. …Megumi’s a good and… capable, strong person and jujutsu sorcerer. He’ll be okay, and they’ll be okay too. Just… just put your trust in him, okay?” 

“I’m sorry, [Name], but I’ve got to go,” he tells you, “You stay here, and call for help or something. I’m sorry, but I’ve just really got to do it!” 

He hugs you, quickly, deftly. And then he crosses the gate, leaving you all alone like Megumi did. You wish he’d hug you longer, that you could take care of him for a little longer— it was your last way to be useful now. 

Still, there’s someone you could call, now that you remember him.

The emergency contact. 

You snatch your phone out, resolute. 

“Hello! Gojo Satoru speaking,” the voice on the other line says. 

You’ve heard it plenty before by accident. 

When Gojo and Megumi are back, Yuuji’s in the form of a figure slung over Gojo’s shoulders like he’s been reply entrenched into slumber, his body seemingly limp and his torso completely bare. There’s barely an ounce of movement in him, except for slow exhales and inhales you can see on his chest. Sasaki and Iguchi are both nearly the same, the former covered in bruises and in a deep, panicked haze, and the latter as asleep as Yuuji seemed to be while harbouring injuries he may never recover from. 

The only non-roughed up one here is Gojo, it seems; Megumi has a stream of blood running from the top of his head in rivulets, staining his sweaty, scraped forehead. 

“Wh— you two, what happened? Why are they all asleep? What happened to Yuuji? Are they okay? What—” 

“Calm down, kid,” Gojo says, “They’ll be fine. I mean, there’s a 100% chance that your friend can be executed, but…” 

“Executed?” you almost scream, “What the hell happened? You said things would be okay!” 

“Uh-uh, again, calm down. I mean, we don’t even know when they’re gonna make him kick the bucket! He ate Sukuna’s finger, by the way.” He holds his arms up in faux surrender. 

“Gojo you ignorant slut! Don’t you fucking dare tell me to ‘calm down!’ He ate Sukuna’s finger? Why weren’t you able to stop anything? What’s going to happen to him now? You know what— give him to me!” 

“You know, it’s not like I’m scared of being hunted down by your father if you use your cursed technique— I mean, I’m leagues stronger than him— but the stuff was too strong. It’s not like you’ll be able to get rid of the finger in your little boyfriend.” 

“He’s not her boyfriend!” Megumi interjects.

“Thank you, Megumi!” Your face is going hot like a campfire fanned by the wind. 

“Oh?” Gojo adds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Anyway, we’re going to get him to a place where we can cover everything with talismans to surround him.” 

They’re going to execute him at Jujutsu High after.  

“I’m coming with you.” 

“You sure?” Gojo asks, “Your father isn’t going to like you travelling so far away without telling him.” 

Megumi shifts, a little sombre. “[Name], you don’t have to.” 

“...I’m doing this for Yuuji, not for you.” 

“You okay?” Gojo asks while the three of you are back in the hospital. (You hate this building so much.) Iguchi’s been transferred to a ward, Sasaki having woken up and insisting on staying with him. “I’ve got kikufuku if you want some. You must be really tired since it’s so late, huh?” 

The whole situation is so incredulous you’re unsure of whether you want to burst out laughing or dismember someone. 

“...nothing. Wait, let me see Yuuji again.” 

Everyone is asleep, it seems— all except for you and Gojo. Yuuji’s been knocked out, and Megumi’s stuck in the world of his dreams. 

You can’t sleep. There’s just nothing to put your mind at rest. 

At least if there’s one thing you can do it’s this. 

Gojo picks him up by the sides of his torso (now temporarily clothed with a spare white shirt) like a child with a heavy book. “Woah— he’s pretty heavy for a fifteen year old kid.” 

You lay Yuuji face-up on the line of hospital chairs. There are thin scarlet marks right under his eyes— Sukuna’s eyelids, you’ve been told. 

You should’ve done more to protect him. 

Slowly, reticently, you kneel by the side of the chairs. You press your fingertips onto that pair of thin tiny lines. 

Nothing happens. You can’t picture his cells being able to grow back. It’s as if there’s been a slit on his face and its outline has been replaced with brand-new skin. His cells don’t budge. 

“Why don’t you help Megumi? I bet he’s got plenty of healable injuries.” 

“…I don’t think I’ll be able to help much. I could faint if I try helping him now. It’s better to leave it to Dr Ieiri or something.” 

“Pft,” he scoffs, “Shoko? She’s definitely not going to heal all of him. It’ll just be a waste of her time. You can just help him with the tiny scrapes and bruises first. And I’ll even tell her that you did it. She’s really fond of you, you know.” 

You give him a shy, modest smile. “Thanks, then.”

It’s time to get to work. 

Megumi’s skin is smooth like a baby’s just like the last time you felt it, though the frown on his face, ever-present, is bound to cause wrinkles there in less than a few decades’ time. You place your hands on him, bruised and bloody, watching in your mind and directing his cells as they work. 

Once the smaller injuries have been dealt with, you stop. “I can’t really work on the one on his head, since then you’d get another fainted person to carry around, but he should be fine with some bandages and patching-up there, because I’ve already kind of catalysed the start of that area’s healing process a little. Other than that, he should be completely fine. I’ll give it, say… two weeks or so for it to get better completely.” 

“Good work!” he smiles, the outline of his cheeks visible on his blindfold. 

“By the way, Mr Gojo…” 

“You know, I appreciate the respect you’re giving me now, but just Gojo is fine.” 

“Okay, Gojo. Do you think Yuuji will be okay?” 

“I mean, I’m pretty sure. And I’m going to ask them to suspend his sentence. I’ll just see whether he wants that or not once he wakes up.” 

“That’s the thing. I’m not sure if he even will.” 

Gojo laughs. “Don’t worry. He was really strong, and able to switch between being possessed by Sukuna and being himself at will. We haven't seen that kind of talent in a millennia! I’m sure they’ll listen to me, anyway.” 

“Thank you,” you sigh. Thank goodness. “If you need any type of payment, um… teleport to my house whenever you get inconvenient little cuts like bruises and stuff. I can help.” 

“Nah, reverse cursed technique’s got me covered.” 

“Oh, wait— I forgot about that— um… I can…”

“Just leave it to me! No payment required,” he exclaims, holding both thumbs up. “And for the record, the one who wanted to save Yuuji was actually Megumi.” 

You wouldn’t have imagined that would happen. Megumi— pragmatic, serious, unkind when he needs to be (no matter how kind of a person he actually is— no, was— at heart), different from Tsumiki in so many ways. There was no way he would have been the one vouching for Yuuji, someone he’d only just met, to be spared. 

“Really?” you ask, “I… wouldn’t have thought he was the one who would do it. I thought, maybe, you were just… really kind tonight or something…”

“Well, maybe it was because he saw how much you cared about Itadori and did it for you, or maybe he had met Itadori, liked him, and just wanted to save a good person,” Gojo suspects, “But if there’s one thing for sure it’s that your old friend saved your new one.” 

“...oh.” 

You’ll have to bring it up with him next time— maybe, if he’s still there tomorrow…

“I know you’re mad at him, but a lot has happened,” Gojo states, voice lower, softer like a schoolteacher’s, “Still, I won’t tell you that you have to give him a chance or any of that. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to thank him or anything. I’m sure he did it out of his own volition without expecting anything from you. He knew he probably didn’t deserve to if it were you.” 

You pause. “No, it’s just… I’ll talk to him again the next time I see him. Alone, most likely. And I can figure something out. I think that would be the best way to go around things. Thank you, Gojo.” 

18-6-2018 

The aftershocks are still there, although you’ve come out unscathed. 

Last night was a mingled mess, a blur. You’d tried your best to help Iguchi by the time Yuuji was placed in the room of talismans and you could come back to the hospital and visit, but in the end he still needed better help than that. His injuries were too large of scale for how you were at that moment, already tired after healing some of the numbers done on Megumi. 

(You were useless. You couldn’t help anyone. You couldn’t prevent Yuuji from being hit with such soul-striking guilt., couldn’t help Sasaki from being traumatised, couldn’t help Iguchi enough for him to be back at school soon—) 

Sasaki’s injuries were limited to bruises and scrapes, but though you could help her physically, there was nothing you could do to assist her emotionally. 

You stayed with them for a few hours in the ICU and then one of the hospital wards (a floor under your mother’s), your father calling you once the sun had risen. 

“Gojo Satoru told me about everything that happened.” 

“Yeah. I know you’ll scold me, but… not now. I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.” You hang up. 

For all you spoke of wanting to be useful, the night when your powers were needed the most was when you were at your most useless— you couldn’t help them, you couldn’t help attack the cursed spirits, and the only thing you could do was call for an adult’s help like a little, scared and helpless girl. 

You needed to train, and train harder than you had been doing for the past few years. 

There’s a knock on the door, a dot-dot-dot-dot-dot. dot dot. It’s Yuuji, you know it is. How ever could you not? 

Timidly, movements quiet like the room itself, you pull the door knob, seeing him there, relatively unscathed. You sigh in relief, a moment’s respite before you return to the panic you had been living in before since you deserve the respite less than other people do— no, you don’t deserve such a break at all, you’re absolutely sure of that, not after what you pulled, how horribly and utterly useless you were, you’ll remind yourself of that again and again and again— the heart-piercing guilt and the worry and the constant need to care for the people around you, almost like a mother, maybe, but you don’t like that thought as much as you think you should. Maybe if your own mother knew, she’d disagree— maybe she’d tell you that you should be a mother, maybe she’d ignore that you were also a child at certain times— the most convenient ones, probably. When she thinks it good that you, a child, were someone’s caretaker because women should take pride in and appreciate that, she would encourage you to be one; when she thinks it bad that as a caretaker and a so-called ‘adult’ you can have your own autonomy, agency and opinions, then maybe she’d remind you that in her eyes you knew nothing of the world. But maybe, just maybe, there was also a chance that she wouldn’t be like that in any way. 

But you wouldn’t put it past her. 

“Yuuji, are you okay?” There are questions about to spill out of you, tears about to fall like gushing rivers, but you’re just happy he’s alive at this point. 

“Yeah.” His voice is soft. Your chest twinges; it hurts like an awful, intransigent little bruise. “Hi, [Name].” It feels so unignorable, the way it’s filled with such sorrow and worry that it weighs his usually loud and boisterous voice down. 

“I thought that—” you start, lips trembling, “I thought there was a chance I couldn’t lose you. The only thing I could do was—” you sniffle, “Hope that they could delay it or something.” 

“Yeah. I’ll explain it later,” he says, his voice sincere. 

You squeeze the wrist of his sleeve. “Don’t do things like that ever again,” you plead, “Promise me that at least.” 

“I promise.” 

“And keep your promises.”

“I will.” 

“...want to come inside?” 

He walks inside, and you step back to make way for him. 

���Sorry I came so late,” he says to you and Sasaki, who shakes her head in reassurance. “Hello, Sasaki,” he greets, “Is Iguchi okay?” 

They speak for a while— you don’t feel like it’s much of your right to join their conversation, since you did nearly nothing at all when they were most in danger, so you leave them be for a while. It would be better not to bother them right now, anyway. They’ve both been traumatised until it reached beneath their bones within the past twenty-four hours. 

When you leave the hospital, Sasaki tells you that she’s going to stay. You tell her to take care, squeezing her hand one final time. 

You let her, patting her on the back. You’ll call them later— she’d given you her contact— just to check on the two of them. 

“Where’s Megumi?” you ask Yuuji. 

“Oh, Fushiguro? I’m not too sure, but that Gojo guy said he’ll be there soon.” 

“Where, though?”

Sheepishly, in peak Yuuji fashion, he scratches the back of his neck. “Actually, another reason why I came here was also because… I mean, I know you and him weren’t close, but I’m going to the place where they’ll keep Grandpa’s ashes, and I think… you know, you could come with me. I… I don’t think I’d be able to do it really well alone, even though he had definitely made it clear he seriously didn’t want me moping around after his death and all. Gojo and Megumi will probably be there, but I thought it would be better if you were there because I know you better than those two, and you’re my friend. So… could you come with me? I know that he never really showed it, but I think he had always liked you a lot. Like, he was happy we were friends and stuff.” 

“...mhm. I’ll always be happy about that,” you tell him, before pulling him into a hug. The guy must need one right now. You’ve never hugged him before. Your heart hurts. 

The air is hot and humid with the breath of summer, bundles of mosquitoes bound to be breeding new ones these next few weeks. Up in the sky is the sun, bold and bright, glaring down harshly at the two of you. 

“Before he passed away, Grandpa actually said something. He… kind of cursed me, if I’m being honest,” Yuuji starts. “He said I was a strong kid, so I should help people. And I’m going to do that. So that was why when Gojo asked if I wanted to be executed immediately or just eat all the fingers before dying, I chose the second option. I… I think I want to help people that way.” 

‘You’ve already helped people enough. You helped me,’ you almost tell him. 

You frown, because that’s the only thing you can do right now. You search for words to say the same way you do looking for dog books in libraries chock-full with those of other genres. “I’m… disappointed, I— I know I should be grateful, grateful that you’re still going to be alive and all, but… you’re still going to be in danger, and you’re still going to be executed one day. I mean, again, I know I should be happy you’re going to have more time alive and that I can still see you, but what if things don’t go as planned? What if you lose control of yourself once you reach, like, the fifth finger or something?” 

You’re selfish like that. In a way, you’re just the way your mother is. You should’ve always known— you were her beloved daughter after all, and the people you know would be loved the same way she did you since the day she knew of your existence, and maybe even before that. 

“Don’t worry,” he grins, wide as always. Even in an over-enveloping darkness he still manages to be the light. “I’ll be just fine. I’m a strong kid, after all. And we’ll always be friends!” 

Gojo asks if he and Yuuji can talk in private for a while. You wonder if this was how your mother felt as she had to give the person she loved most away (but you will have to go away, one day), because you can briefly tell what Gojo is going to ask. You wonder if she felt this twice. 

Yuuji can’t stay with you forever. In the same way you can’t remain by your mother and father’s sides for all eternity. 

This won’t be the last time you’re here, you think. For a place of death, it’s quite a bit beautiful how there’s such large masses of grass and plants surrounding it. 

Megumi nearly walks past you, his eyes on the old photographs of the deceased all around him. 

“Megumi.” 

He turns around. 

“I just wanted to thank you for wanting to save my friend, even if you may not have wanted to do it for me, specifically… um… I didn’t expect that you’d still be here. Are your injuries okay?” 

“I’m okay,” he answers you. “And also, I…” he hesitates, the first time he’s talked to you for something actually related to the two of you in a long time— nearly two years if you’re counting correctly, but the thoughts in your head are a bit too jumbled to count at the moment. “I didn’t really do it for you, though. It… it was for Tsumiki.” 

“Oh.”

“Wait! I’m sorry, that didn’t… come out right. But I should also apologise for something else. You wouldn’t have been thrown into this world anyway if not for my own demon dogs years ago.” 

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault. And I would have wanted to be in it anyway. There’s not many who can heal other people and all, so I just thought… even if I can’t do as much yet, since I don’t have reversed cursed technique and the drawbacks that come from mine are really bad, I can still help people sometimes if they’re dealing with relatively minor injuries. I can, um… make things easier for people. I can be useful like that. I’d keep to it anyway, because I’m stubborn, but… yeah. It wasn’t your fault, really.” 

“Okay. That’s good to hear.” 

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to know that Tsumiki is okay.” 

Silence again for a while. The air turns a little more sombre, and a lot more awkward. 

“She is. And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.” 

“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.” 

“You love him a lot,” Megumi says. 

“I do. He’s a really good friend. If there’s something I’ll always know I know that, at least.” 

“I can see that. It doesn’t seem like he loves you back in the same way, though.” 

“...wow. Way to be blunt, Megumi. And yes, I do know that, too.” 

“Let’s just… change the subject.” 

“You’re the one who introduced it in the first place.” 

“Okay. How… how are you?” 

“I’m good. Wait, I think you should… go back to them. Maybe they’ll need you there right about now. He’s probably going to have to go to Jujutsu High, right?” 

He pauses. “Yeah. I’m sorry, [Name].” 

“No, no. That’s okay. I expected it. It’s just that I’ll miss him a lot,” you tell him, “He took care of me, kind of. You know I’ve always been a bit of an awkward or shy person, but he still approached me since I was new and we ended up hitting off as friends, kind of. We did a lot of stuff together.” 

Sounds pretty familiar, huh. 

“If you want I can make sure he’s safe for you.” 

“...you should be able to do that regardless of whether it’s my wish for you to do so or not…” you state, “But that would help, I guess. And I’m sorry for my attitude towards you for the past few hours or so. Thank you again.” 

“...I’m sorry I never spoke to you for so long, by the way,” he says abruptly. ‘By the way’? Classic Megumi… 

“I could tell you were. It’s… it’s okay. The two of you kind of have a habit of doing that.” 

All your rage, your loneliness, your feelings of abandonment— and this is all you can do. This is all you can say. You can only just let it go, in the end. 

“I’ll explain it all one day.” 

“You don’t have to if it’s hard.” 

He stays. “No, I will. I promise. And I promise I’ll start to talk to you again, as well. I was just… scared of a few things, maybe.” 

“That’s okay.” 

The two of you aren’t quite friends again yet, but it’ll happen soon. Maybe. And even if it doesn’t, you’re finally able to say, with an open, honest heart, that that doesn’t matter as much anymore. 

“I guess this is goodbye again, then.” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, right— promise to keep in touch, okay? My patience is running thin with you,” you chuckle at that last part, attempting to joke and make things lighter again. 

“Promise.” 

“I’m going to go home now, by the way. Please tell Yuuji that I wish him the best and I’ll visit when I have my own money to visit Tokyo and all.” 

“I will.” 

“And help me say goodbye to him for me,” you add, “Hope that’s not too much for you to do. Sorry for the trouble. It’s just that I’d actually just about cry if I had to do it in real time right in front of him. Be good to him and be good friends, okay? Keep that promise, at the very least. That’s the one thing that I wish for the most.” 

“Bye, Megumi.” You turn back in the direction opposite of his. 

“Wait—!” 

His hand is on your wrist. Now you’re in front of him, like yesterday, and he’s holding your wrist, albeit a bit gentler than the way he used to pull it a whole eight years ago. 

His eyes are cast away from you, slightly avoidantly and in a way that’s a bit abashed. “I’ll miss you, [Name].” 

“It won’t even feel like I’m not there,” you say. Though his grip is slightly tight, he loosens it as soon as you try to slide it up, as if he’d let you be free of it if you want him to. 

You squeeze his hand instead, turning to face him. It feels warm. It feels like there’s blood coursing through you, the sensation more tender and tangible than it’s ever been. 

“Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye, [Name]. I’ll… I’ll call.” 

“Thank you.” 

Now you’re the one slipping away from his grasp. You move your hand away and walk back. The door slides open. 

2010. Springs, summers, autumns, winters. Hands on wrists, a back faced to your eyes, wide with innocence. Warmth and laughter and happiness and love. Days coloured with vibrant hues and time spent with dog books and in libraries. Frowns were greeted with smiles. Hesitance was non-existent. You didn’t feel a need to compensate for your uselessness. You were a child. You didn’t feel useless at all. You just felt this: a constant leaping in your heart, the corners of your mouth twisting up into a juvenile grin, braiding someone’s beautiful brown hair and tying it with a pretty cherry hair tie. 

You want to cry as you walk back home. 

You’re pretty sure you do. 

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

[itadores]

math help.

note: surprise !!! it’s my comeback post

pairing: nanami kento x gn reader, itadori yuuji & gn reader, itadori yuuji & nanami kento

word count: 2k

genre/warnings: fluff, slice of life au, dad nanami, parent reader, child itadori

“how was school today, yuuji?”

the question you pose to your son as he clamors into the car and buckles his seatbelt is innocent, but the pink-haired boy heaves a great, big sigh in response.

“‘s okay,” he mumbles. as soon as the car door closes, he props his arm up on the armrest and stares out the window, gazing at the scenery as you begin to pull out of his school’s parking lot.

you raise a brow, looking at your baby’s reflection through the rearview mirror of your car. that’s unusual. yuuji normally loves telling you about every aspect of his day, no matter how minute the detail is. you don’t mind how much he rambles. you enjoy listening to your son happily blab about the antics he, megumi, and nobara got up to during his time at school or how gojo-sensei did something silly again. you like how animated yuuji gets when he talks; it’s adorable. so, for him to be so quiet is concerning.

“what’s wrong, baby? did something bad happen at school today?” you calmly question. you try to keep your voice free of any worry, but when you see yuuji nod his head yes, your nerves sky-rocket. you instantly enter protective mode. did someone say something mean to your baby? you’ll kill them if they made him upset.

you take a deep breath and refocus your attention on the road. there’s no need to get so worked up before you know what the issue is. “what happened, yuuji?”

your son sighs again. the anticipation builds and builds until he throws his hands into the air and dramatically says “we learned math today and i don’t get any of it.” he fists his pink hair and tugs on the strands like he’s about ready to rip them out.

you let out a relieved exhale. you restrain your laughter because you don’t want yuuji to think you’re making light of his issues, but you can’t help the smile that begins to spread across your lips. it looks like you got all worked up over nothing. 

“yuuji, don’t pull on your hair like that, you’ll go bald,” you gently chide. he immediately releases his hair at the possibility that he could go bald! yuuji would rather not lose all his hair, thank you very much. “do you have math homework, baby?”

yuuji nods again. “gojo-sensei gave us a worksheet to do, but i don’t get it. how am i supposed to do the homework if i don’t get it?” yuuji becomes increasingly more agitated with each word, his voice rising in volume. 

you let your son voice all his worries before speaking. when you stop at a red light, you glance over your shoulder at your son to give him a reassuring look. 

“you can ask your papa to help with your homework tonight,” you suggest.

yuuji immediately perks up at the idea. his brown eyes go all round. “you think papa will help me?” he hopefully asks.

you chuckle. as if kento would ever turn yuuji down. “of course, yuuji. how about you ask him when we get inside?” you say as you pull into your driveway.

“papa’s home?!” yuuji squeals. with his clumsy little hands, he tries to undo his seatbelt as quick as he can, but his fingers can’t locate the button to unfasten his seatbelt in his haste. 

you quickly undo your seatbelt, hopping out of the car and opening up the car door where yuuji’s sitting. you reach around his body to press the button to unlock his seatbelt. as soon as yuuji is free from the restraints, he scrambles out of his booster seat and makes a run for the front door. 

“yuuji, slow down,” you playfully scold. you scoop up his forgotten backpack that lies in the backseat, shut the door, lock your car, and walk toward the entrance of your home. yuuji impatiently bounces up and down, jamming his pointer finger against the doorbell to make it open up faster.

before you can tell yuuji to exercise a little bit of patience or whip your house key out, the door swings open, revealing the man of the hour.

“papa!” yuuji excitedly shouts, throwing himself with reckless abandon at the blond man. kento, ever ready for anything, bends down and easily catches his little spitfire with open arms.

“hello, yuuji.” kento greets with a small, amused smile. your husband turns his attention to you. “hello, love.”

you gently usher your boys out of the doorway and further inside your home, so you can shut the front door behind you. “hi, sweetheart.”

you punctuate the end of your sentence by pressing a chaste kiss to kento’s lips. yuuji scrunches his face into disgust at the display of affection. “ew. that’s gross,” he says while wriggling his small body, still held in kento’s arms, between you.

you fondly roll your eyes, grinning. “you’re gross from being at school all day.” you bop yuuji on the nose, causing him to go cross-eyed for a moment. “go wash your hands, stink bug. also, don’t forget that you wanted to ask your papa something.”

“i am not stinky,” yuuji whines, squirming around in kento’s arms until your husband carefully lowers him down to the ground. despite his adamant protest that he does not stink, yuuji follows your directions and bounds down the hallway, making his way to the restroom to wash up.

with the two of you alone in the hallway now, kento looks at you with a raised brow. “ask me something?” he parrots.

you snake an arm around kento’s waist, pulling the man closer so you can give him a quick peck on the cheek. “nothing bad, i promise, but i’ll let yuuji ask you,” you reassure. releasing your hold on kento, you traverse down the hallway toward the kitchen to make an easy snack for yuuji. you drop yuuji’s backpack on the dining table when you pass by it.

kento trails after you, loosely wrapping his arms around you from behind as you stand near the countertop. you hum and pluck an apple from the bowl, rolling it around in your palm to feel if it’s ripe enough. you can cut up some apple slices for yuuji’s afternoon snack. knowing him, he’ll probably want to eat them with some caramel sauce.

“sweetheart, could you pass me—”

a cutting board followed by a knife magically appears in your vision. you take them and place them down on the countertop in front of you. you lean back to press a kiss to kento’s jaw. “thank you, kento.”

kento softly smiles, brushing his lips against your forehead. “you’re welcome.”

from the kitchen area, you and kento can hear the running water of the faucet in the bathroom suddenly cease. not long after, yuuji bursts through the room.

“papa.”

kento detaches himself from you and makes his way around the counter to get to yuuji’s side.

“yes, yuuji?”

kento bends his knees and lowers himself to the hardwood floor to make himself only slightly taller than yuuji instead of standing at his full height and towering over the boy. yuuji places his little hands on kento’s shoulders to force the man to look him straight in the eyes. yuuji does his best to paste on a serious look, but it’s much too cute with his adorably chubby cheeks. kento dons a serious look as well, but his eyes are soft as he gazes at his son.

“i need help with my math homework,” yuuji states.

“okay. why don’t we move to the table, and you can show me what you need help with?” nanami propositions.

yuuji’s eyes light up, and he responds with a determined nod before bouncing away toward the dining table. you watch from your place near the kitchen island as kento pushes himself off of the ground. his joints audibly creak, and a light wince crosses his face.

“looks like you’re getting old, old man,” you tease, pausing from your task of cutting up apple slices for yuuji. 

kento places his hands on his lower back to stretch out his muscles and tosses you a flat look your way. “we’re the same age.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night,” you airily say with a flourish of your hand. you make a shooing motion at kento. “now, go help our son with his homework.”

the corner of his lip curls upward, and kento turns and walks to go take a seat across from yuuji at the dining table.

you refocus on the task at hand and continue cutting up apple slices for yuuji. once you’re content with how many wedges you have, you set down the knife and open up the fridge to search for the caramel sauce that yuuji is so fond of. when you spot the container you’re looking for, you’re quick to grab it along with the plastic container of grapes.

turning on the faucet, you rinse the container of grapes under the running spray of water. once you think they’re clean enough, you turn off the water and begin to organize the array of fruits neatly onto a plate with a small dish of caramel sauce to the side. you dry off your hands with a hand towel, put everything away back in its place, and grab the plate to bring to yuuji.

the sight that greets you when you gently nudge the door to the dining room wide open melts your heart. yuuji is bent over his worksheet, face screwed in intense concentration, as he tightly fists a pencil in one hand. kento is sat beside him, idly watching yuuji attempt to solve one of the problems printed in black ink.

“i just don’t get it, papa!” yuuji whines. his brows furrow together and his eyes bore into the piece of paper laid out in front of him as if the answer will magically come to him.

“which part do you not understand?” kento calmly asks.

“all of it!” yuuji says, voice full of distress. he tosses his hands up into the air to further emphasize his point.

kento places a large hand on yuuji’s back to help ground him. he rubs his palm up and down in a comforting manner. “that’s okay, yuuji. we can go over it again together until you understand the concept,” kento says, ever so patient. 

you take this as an opportunity to butt into the conversation. “how about you take a quick break before you try again, yuuji?” yuuji and kento both look your way at the unexpected sound of your voice. you raise the hand that’s balancing the plate. “i brought you a little snack.”

yuuji looks at kento, waiting for the assurance that it’s okay if he takes a break. 

“we can try again after you’ve eaten.”

with his permission, yuuji happily shoves one of the apple slices you’ve cut up into his mouth as soon as you set the dish down onto the table. 

“make sure you chew with your mouth closed, baby,” you remind yuuji as you take a seat across from him and kento. you love your son to bits, but he is the messiest eater you know. with his mouth full of mashed apples, he gives you a little thumbs up. 

when yuuji’s done with his snack, you whisk the plate away. you stand up and move to the other side of the table to place a kiss on yuuji’s forehead, ruffling his unruly hair, and then press another kiss to the top of kento’s head.

“good luck on math, you two. i know you’ll get it in no time, baby! you have a great teacher, after all.” you end your sentence with an exaggerated wink directed at kento, which prompts yuuji to giggle. kento doesn’t outwardly laugh, but you can see the amusement shining in his eyes.

“thank you, love,” kento says as you exit the room. love overflows in your chest as you clean the dirty dishes in the kitchen. you know that kento would patiently explain the concept over and over again to yuuji until he understood it. he would never raise his voice at him or grow frustrated with his lack of understanding. kento’s just that type of dad- a wonderful one.

[milk-tea-and-memories]

pairing: best friend!megumi x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, nothing else i think but please lmk if you find something

megumi doesn’t drink, of course, he’s too smart for that. because when megumi drinks, images of you that usually he keeps at bay flood his mind. you, skipping down the little dirt road in the park, occasionally bending down to pick the tiny strawberries that line the overgrown path. it’s you that megumi sees, bravely making conversation with complete strangers and petting their dogs and shaking their hands and megumi just doesn’t know how you do it. megumi enjoys his apathic reputation, he doesn’t care, why should he? but lately you’ve been making him overthink. when you ruffle his hair his usual scowl is usually accompanied by a blush that megumi quickly hides by turning away and pretending to fix up his hair. this mornings worries consist of how to ask you to go to that new restaurant that just opened up in town, without it sounding too much like a date. when he finally pressed send, he cringes at how long it took him to write such a simple message. your reply comes quickly, made known by a soft ping that megumi knows means it’s you because everyone else is set on vibrate only.

sorry gums not tonight, i’ve got plans :p, let’s plan for tomorrow

megumi tries to seem unaffected, though truthfully he hasn’t seen you for a week now since you’ve been studying for your med exam, and he misses you

k. he sends, then winces at how low that sounds, he knows gojo wouldn’t approve. deciding to go on a walk, megumi puts on his jacket and wraps a scarf that you’d bought him at one of the little boutiques in town around his neck. walking around the park that he usually accompanies you to, megumis heart drops into his stomach as his brain processes the scene before his eyes.

two figures are walking in the park, the setting sun casting warm light against their red cheeks. one of the two, tall, taller than he is megumi notes, with dark hair that seems to style itself effortlessly, is saying something animatedly to the other, who slaps him on the head. he immediately recognizes the latter, because it’s you. so these are what your plans were, or more specifically, these are who your plans were. megumis brain immediately begins to compare himself with your new companion, the way his cheekbones sit on his angular face, the way his hands gesture, and most sickeningly, the way he makes you laugh. has he ever made you laugh like that? has he ever laughed like that himself? megumi looks away and heads home, his hands shoved so deep in his pockets he hopes he isn’t pulling his pants down, turning from the scene that he’s sure will be running through his head for the rest of the night. he brushes away an invitation from yuuji for a pizza night, opting to sit in his dark room, periodically glancing at his phone and trying to force the images of you and someone else out of his mind. megumis phone dings again softly, and he is greeted with a picture of you and your companion at a restaurant, squinting at the banner behind you megumi realizes with a sigh that you’ve brought your date, me go mi supposes, to the new restaurant, the one that he asked you to. which brings him to now, sitting in front of the bar, drinking something that the bartender promised was strong. and it is, megumi doesn’t know how long he’s been there, minutes? hours? all he knows is he wants to see you, so his fingers sloppily swipe through his phone until he reaches your contact, pressing it with no second thoughts.

“gumi?” your voice spills out of the speaker and megumi smiles, letting out a little giggle, “gumi are you drunk?”

“nOoOOoO…” megumi stubbornly says, before whispering, “yes, but don’t tell y/n”

“gumi i am y/n” you say exasperatedly, “i’m coming to get you, don’t move.”

megumi stays as still as possible, keeping his eyes open until he inevitably blinks. when your car pulls up, megumi sees you walk quickly up to the door, brushing away a middle aged man that comes up to you doing his best smolder, scanning the room until you see megumi sitting there. megumi wonders how you can be so beautiful and how your eyes are so pretty and how your hair sits perfectly on your head and how nice you look.

“megumi stand up let’s go,” you drag him up from the stool, “a picture will last longer” you add with a wink.

“but you told me not to move?” megumi giggles again, but he’s dragged out of the bar regardless and stuffed into your car.

the ride is silent sans the wind blowing through your open windows and the occasional hiccup from a snoring megumi. the silence is broken however, when you hear the sound of the mirror on the sun shield in your car being opened.

“megumi?” you ask, wondering what in the world could be prompting him to check himself out at this moment. “whatcha doin?”

“figurin’ somethin’ *hic* out” megumi mumbles in reply.

“what?”

“why ‘m not good enough for ya.” megumis voice takes on a pouty tone.

“what? megumi what do you mean?” you wonder because though you know about megumis insecurities he’s always known he’s been enough for you.

“why’d you hafta find that *hic* guy,” megumi continues, “the one you were at the park with *hic* and at the restaurant that i asked you to” this last part is spoken accusingly.

“gums im sorry but we were hungry and it was the closest restaurant, it was really good, we should go sometime too, but you can’t be upset over that?”

“of course i am,” megumi sounds exasperated, “i don’t want some random guy with you all the time, makin’ you laugh and stuff,” he grumbles.

you fight to hide the smirk covering your face, “oh yeah? and why’s that gums?”

“because i love you?!” megumi shoots, and then immediately slaps his hand over his mouth, the alcohol in his system making his eyes open wide like in the comics.

”what did you say?” you ask quietly 

and megumis heart speeds up and he’s sure it’s broken the sound barrier 

what did he just say

he just told you he loved you 

he sits, deathly still, as your car continues down the road 

what did he just do

”megumi” your voice cuts through the silence like a knife through the silky tofu you two prepare together for your lazy sunday morning miso soup

”i just didn’t want you to regret…anything” you continue, your voice softer, “i don’t want you to make a mistake.”

megumi thinks this over in his head 

does that mean you like him back

what about the guy

what were you doing with him

”we can talk about this more when you’re sober gums” you sigh

megumi looks up to see that you’ve arrived at his house 

you open the door with a spare key that megumi had given you and with that the rest of the night goes by in a blur

he briefly remembers you urging him to brush his teeth and you kissing his forehead goodnight

which brings megumi to now, with the morning sun fighting to push through his tightly closed blinds and his head filling with memories of last night

he bangs out of bed, he can’t lose you, he knows he will after what he pulled last night, but he can’t he can’t lose you 

changing into his black pants and foregoing a top he starts for the doorknob but it twists open before he can reach it

your smiling but worried face stares back at him 

“good morning gumi, i hope you don’t mind i slept here last-oof” you begin but megumis wrapped his arms around you

just as quickly he recoils 

“i’m sorry about last night” he says monotonously, his eyes looking anywhere but you, settling on the carpeted floor  

you sigh, unwilling to tackle such a heavy subject so early in the morning, but doing so anyways.

“did you mean it?” 

megumi feels his chin being lifted by your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye

he stutters, rubbing his hands together nervously

”yes-i mean n-no well yes of course but i’m sure you don’t-i mean” he pushes your hand away and looks back down at the floor “forget it. i want you to be happy, i’m sorry i told you, i’m glad you found someone.” 

he notices how you look away and with that he awaits your inevitable rejection, for you to agree with him that while he’s great he’s just not it, just not who you’re looking for, that being megumi is just not enough.

instead, he’s greeted with the feel of your incredibly soft lips, how are they so soft megumi wonders but he’s not surprised, it’s exactly how he imagined them. your hands go up to his hair and all his dreams are suddenly coming true

you pull back smiling and flick his forehead “i am happy gumi, here, with you.”

megumis heart rate slows and speeds up simultaneously

you like him back.

you’re not leaving.

you like him back

“oh and gumi? that guy you saw me with is my cousin makino.”

you smile at his blush and the smile that he can’t keep off his face

he glares at you, “coulda told me sooner,” he grumbles, “would have saved me from this hangover.” 

you laugh and drag him back to the bed, snuggling into the blankets and megumi cautiously wraps his arms around your middle, searching your face for approval but your eyes are already closed, your nose nuzzling at his bare chest and your leg wrapped around his. 

“don’t worry, i love you too, dummy”

[white-poppie]

MHA,HQ, DN, JJK, HxH and TRV as things ‘I’ have said

"Yes, Yes, he has Amastha" (meant to say Asthama)

Mikey, Sanzu, Denki, Kirishima, Shoto Mina, Oikawa, Hinata, Coach Ukai, Matsuda, Nobara, Gon

Got confused between saying:  ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘I am sorry Ended up yelling, “ARE YOU SORRY?”

Bakugo, Shigaraki Atsumu, Bokuto, Kageyama, Tendo, Kazutora, Draken, Kisaki, Misa-Misa, Gon, Killua, Leorio, Mello

"Nyannyannyannyan" (mumbling while thinking.)

L, Kurapika, Shizuku, Melody, Deku, Uraraka, Denki, Toga, Suga, Asahi, Megumi, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, Takemichi, Hinata, Naoto

Them: "Woah, this mall's parking lot is rated more than the mall itself." Me: "Then let's stay and have fun in the car!" Them:"..." Me: "NONO I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT."

Yamaguchi, Kenma, Kita, Daichi, Shinso, Kirishima, Deku, Shinichiro, Taiju, Killua, Yuuji, Near

"Don't judge me, but I think Nick Wilde is hot."

Baji, Ran, Hanma, Kuroo, Atsumu, Tanaka, Monoma, Denki, Mirko, Hawks, Suna, Gojo, Nobunaga Hisoka, Mello, Matt

"My guy, I am 7/11, not 9/11" (Ifykyk)

Tsukishima, Ushijima, Dabi, Benkei, Shion, Takeomi, South, Hanma, Draken, Mahito, Gojo, Phinks, Shalnark

"I don't want a sugar daddy, I want to be rich enough to be someone's sugar mommy."

Mitsuya, Sanzu, Kokonoi, Oikawa, Sakusa, Iwaizumi, Tendou, Suna, Shalnark, Machi, Nobunaga, Leorio, Hawks, Yaomomo, Mirko, Midnight, Sero, Monoma, Mello, Matt

"OMG, WHAT IF THEY FIND MY SECRET FANFICTION ACCOUNT?"

Akaashi, Yachi, Kenma, Chifuyu, Shinichiro, Takemitchi, Emma, Uraraka, Momo, Jirou, Matt

"At this point, I need something stronger than lemonade....MAYBE THE BLOOD OF ENEMIES!"

Baji, Hanma, Ran, Rindo, Sanzu, Mikey, Pehyan, Pahchin, Tsukishima, Tendou, Kageyama, Kuroo, Ushijima, Suna, Kurapika, Killua, Gojo, Mello, L, Sukuna

"I want to live in a Victorian castle, away from everyone and especially your bullshit and build a secret library."

Akaashi, Tsukishima, Chrollo, Kurapika, Illumi, Aizawa, Shinso, Megumi, L, Near, Nanami

"Ma'am why be 'I could fix him?', he is perfectly fine as the total menace he is."

Hanma, Sanzu, Denki, Mikey, Light, Misa,Mello, Atsumu, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Kuroo, Yamamoto, Lev, Yaku

"I don't do comedic relief, love; I am the 'therapist friend + mom friend', now let's talk about that trauma of yours, don't try to hide it... I can see EVERYTHING."

Sugawara, Daichi, Yaku, Draken, Mitsuya, Deku, Kirishima, Kurapika, Leorio, Pakunoda, Nanami

Tags:  @rintaroubby​ @nanaseishiro​, @akumicchi​, @oikawatoorupdf​ @dislownini @idowritingandstuff​, @bakaface​ @denkis111​, @jazzylove​,@maybeleftoverjourneys, @lordmypantsaresocool​, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle​, @kristaline2dmensimp​, @repostingmyfavs​​​, 

Also Check out: L'appel du vide

Synopsis: Your husband, Hanma Shuji is dead! You team up with Tachibana Naoto, Chifuyu Matsuno, Ryuguji Ken and Mitsuya Takashi, you go on a journey full of betrayals and twists. Can you find out what really happened to your husband?

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