#should i text him
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allamericanb-tch · 7 months ago
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i need a situationship i’m so bored
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miauwing · 8 months ago
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AAAAH
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presidentshoelaces · 6 months ago
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About to text my ex " I miss you <3"
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sleeptalknn · 5 months ago
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Idk kinda missing him 🎀🦴
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greywooden · 2 years ago
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I miss him
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raspberryconverse · 4 months ago
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i-am-the-unicorn-triumphant · 5 months ago
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my friend left my house 45 minutes ago at 12:45 am and i know hes home it only takes him 20 minutes to get home and bc we have each others location but also he usually texts me when he gets home and the anxious overthinking is telling me that he hates me and am overbearing
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cookiesdiaryx · 8 months ago
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Should I text him!?!??? Someone PLEASE TELL ME NO i want to so bad but i know it’s good someone just please tell me not 🙏
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sydsthoughts · 9 months ago
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When you find out that your ex situationship is literally the nicest person ever to everyone other than you :)
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coldbrewlvr · 1 year ago
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need attention
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allamericanb-tch · 8 months ago
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i feel so antsy i need to do something
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thel0neleyquill · 1 year ago
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Late Night Letters /2
A letter to a desperate me:
He asked me how I was doing.
He asked me what was new.
He said that he never sees me.
That’s true.
At least to me.
But it’s a lie
That crawled out from his lips
bitter and deformed and not quite false
I saw him the day before.
We talked for an hour;
About life, about school.
And he has the audacity to say that we never see each other.
I caught him watching me, too,
smiling.
Intrigued.
I know, I’m reading into it.
He’s a social person, and I’m an animated doll.
Just for entertainment, not for living.
Not a real girl, strings still
Strung tight, binding me to the posts of my
Mind. No blue fairy
to liberate me to the land of the real.
Guess I’ll stay delusional.
WHY?
Why would he do this? How could he make me believe that he could actually care, that absolute ass.
Out of any rejection I’ve had, this by far stings the most, but tastes the sweetest.
Melting at the top of my tongue,
Gone before the bitter aftertaste
Slithers, elusive
Down
My
Throat
I texted him back, of course.
I have no self control when it comes to him, never have.
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artsymeeshee · 2 months ago
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17020s · 2 years ago
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so what has my darling daring soul learned 😼
that boys aren’t shit and that there are better fish in the sea 🤭🤭🤭 just like my friend’s friend who got introduced to me 🤭🤭🤭
jkjk i will stay single for the rest of the year 😔
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norikuna · 1 month ago
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HOLY GROUND — geto suguru
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prologue. → suguru geto is effortlessly stylish, and impossibly charming, and it's no wonder that everyone loves him. and you're absolutely crushing on him. and without fail, he takes you out each afternoon, after school, to a sweet cheesecake shop, saying that it'll be nice to grab a quick treat. but as a friend...right?
pairing. geto suguru x reader
warnings+. nothing, just sugary sweet fluff! reader has some self doubt and is a bit nervous, has a bit of a crush on ol' geto.
word count. 3.03k! song inspiration. holy ground — taylor swift
a/n. this post by @shokosmokes got me thinkin...mind u i love a good angst story but its nice to just have something sweet. like cheesecake 🍰 anyway this is short but i had fun writing this short lil piece <3 lmao this is the first time i think i've written a story without someone dying or losing a limb. not beta read, we die like warriors.
mp3. tonight i'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through. but i don't wanna dance, if i'm not dancing with you.
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you sat across from geto at a small table by the window, marvelling at how the warm sunlight spilled in and caught the edges of his profile, lighting his features up with the last rays of summer's sweetness. you can hear the usual bustle of life on the streets of tokyo, with cars roaring down narrow streets and voices floating on the air. but here, it's just you and him.
there's a single strand of his hair that's perpetually falling out of his knot, falling against his face in a way that makes your chest tighten. the light has caught the feathery edges of his raven hair, turning the black into deep shades of brown and caramel that you want to capture within your fingers.
"you're quiet today," geto says, and he's leaning back in his chair, legs stretched wide beneath the table as he always tends to do.
you're glad you both took the time to change out of your uniform, at the dorms. the loose charcoal top drapes well against his lean, sculpted frame. his faded black jeans and scuffed docs complete the look, as though he stepped out of a glossy streetwear magazine and into your hands. there's two silver bracelets stacked on his wrists, gleaming faintly and you watch as the faint dusting of dark hair on his arms look translucent in the afternoon light.
great, you've been staring. again. heat rushes to your face, and you quickly look down at the cracked screen of your phone, hoping he didn't notice how you were practically unthreading each stitch that held him together.
"just tired," you say. though the truth has nothing to do with exhaustion, and everything to do with him.
geto tilts his head, watching you, "long day?"
you trace your finger along that shattered screen as you flip your phone open, "something like that. you know how they train us at the end of the day."
his eyes narrow for a split second, like he's the one solving a puzzle right now, but he shakes his head, "let's just go and order now. 'm starving."
this bakery is known for its whimsical creations, and you stare at the menu above the counter, wondering how many crumpled bills you can scrounge up for this outing. geto's leaning against the glass case, shoving his hands in wide pockets as his bracelets clink softly at the movement.
his eyes skim over the vibrant slices of cheesecake on display, but you know he's not really looking at the desserts. he's just giving you time.
"what do you think?"
"i don’t know," you say, dragging out the words as you squint at the labels. "how am i supposed to pick between strawberry matcha swirl and honey lavender? they all sound so - " you pause, schooling your face as the woman behind the till gives you a side-eye, "complicated."
geto chuckles, a low, warm sound that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. "why don’t you go for something fun? you always play it safe."
his words make you pause. maybe he’s right. maybe you do tend to pick the familiar, the predictable. but not today. today, you want something different — something bold. you glance at the menu again, and your eyes land on a slice that looks like a kaleidoscope of colour: tropical mango-passionfruit cheesecake with swirls of raspberry and a delicate coconut crust. it’s so bright and summery, it feels almost impossible not to smile just imagining yourself biting into it.
"that one," you say, pointing to it.
geto raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, his lips curving into a faint smile. "and for me…" he looks over the options for barely a second before he says, "just plain vanilla."
"tch! vanilla?" you repeat "you’re so boring."
"hey, it's a classic."
you roll your eyes, but you are so endlessly fond of him that you're smiling.
a few moments later, you’re back at your table with your slices, and the tropical cheesecake looks as perfect as it did in the case. the vibrant layers of mango, passionfruit, and raspberry practically glow in the sunlight streaming through the window.
ignoring geto's snarky comment to breathe first before inhaling it, you take your first bite, the fork sinking into the creamy texture, and for a moment, you’re hopeful.
but then...ugh. the sweetness hits you all at once, overwhelming your senses. it’s not bad, but it’s...too much. too bright. too cloying. you hesitate, unsure how to admit the mistake of your overzealous choice.
geto notices immediately, because of course he does. he leans forward, resting his arms on the table, his bracelets catching the light again, "what's wrong?"
"nothing," you say quickly, but your face must give you away because he narrows his pretty eyes in suspicion.
"you don’t like it." it's not a question, he’s grinning now.
"it’s fine," you insist, though your tone lacks conviction, and you shovel another wide piece into your mouth.
geto doesn’t say anything. instead, he picks up his fork and, before you can protest, scoops a bite from your slice. you watch as his pink lips part, and he tastes it before pulling a face, "that's sweet enough to even knock out satoru."
"hey!" you protest, though you can’t help but laugh along with him, thinking of your white-haired friend bouncing off the walls. "it’s not that bad."
"you don’t have to eat it," geto says, sliding his plate toward you and nudging your slice away. "here. take mine."
"but you don’t even like sweet things."
geto shrugs, picking up your plate and taking another bite of your overly sweet cheesecake like it’s nothing, and you watch as a mild spasm twitches across his features, "it’s fine. it's no good if you sit here and suffer through something you don't like."
you try to pretend like your chest doesn't tighten at the gesture. he doesn’t even look at you when he says it, focusing instead on his plate.
you take a bite of his vanilla cheesecake, and it’s perfect — not too sweet, just creamy and subtle enough to make you sigh in relief, "where would i be without you?" you hope that the teasing in your voice is enough to smooth over the cracks in your beating heart.
geto glances up at you then, his violet eyes meeting yours, and there’s something unguarded in his expression, something raw and warm and so achingly tender it makes your pulse skip, "i could say the same for you," he says quietly, almost as if the words weren’t meant to be heard, and far too quietly for something as trivial as an afternoon date in a café.
there's a warmth pooling in your cheeks, making your face hurt. and your thoughts loop back to the same quiet ache that you've carried for a few months now, like a sealed and perfumed love letter carried in your pocket.
every time he takes you out after class, you tell yourself, this is it. this is when i'll say it. haven't you rehearsed the words in your head, simple and clear each time?
i like you. i actually really like you a lot, suguru geto.
and every time, like clockwork, the words dissolve on your tongue, swallowed by the noise of your own uncertainty. it is hardly the case that geto isn't kind nor attentive. it's not that he's distant or cold, entirely the opposite.
if anything, he always seems...present.
but then you think about how he walks through the school hallways with that same quiet storm of charisma and charm, how his laughter draws people to him like moths to a flame, boys and girls alike.
in contrast, gojo satoru is far too much for many. there are many who choose to take a step back from him, away from the whirlwind and electrifying storm that is the six-eyes user.
but everyone wants a piece of geto's world, to be his friend or a confident, or something.
and you, what are you? just another friend he takes out after school? someone he doesn't mind spending time with when the day winds down?
your heart is once again acquainted with a knot of longing and fear that’s become far too familiar. geto doesn’t look like someone who would hesitate. he looks like someone who would know exactly what to say, exactly what to do, without second-guessing himself.
and yet, every time you’re with him, you catch these small moments of quiet — when his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, or when he says your name like it’s heavier than it should be. those moments make you wonder. what if…?
and as if he's reading your thoughts, geto shifts forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table now, and that single loose strand of hair moves with him, falling further into his face.
"something’s on your mind," he says, his pretty eyes searching yours. there’s a teasing edge to his tone, but it’s tempered with genuine curiosity, "you can tell me, you know."
you can’t help but wonder — how are you supposed to tell him that he’s the one taking up all the space in your mind? that his voice is the soundtrack to your thoughts, his smile the thing you find yourself chasing in every quiet moment?
instead, you give a small shrug, "maybe i’m just distracted."
"by what?" he presses, leaning just slightly closer, the teasing note in his voice softening into something warmer, a sincere question.
you hesitate, and you want to tell him the truth, but it feels too big, too fragile to let out into the open and so you blunder around, "maybe it’s the cheesecake," you say instead, your voice light, though the thrum of your pulse is anything but, "vanilla really is a classic."
smooth. utahime is going to be so disappointed in you. you know that she's tired of hearing about your crush by now, twirling the ribbon in her hair as she groans each time you tell her that you think you're going to pack your bags and move countries away from geto.
but now geto laughs softly, and the sound wraps around you like warmth, like home, "guess i picked the right place, then."
"you always do." your fingers brush against the cool porcelain of your plate, though you barely notice. your heart is often a traitor to your rational peace of mind, and your attention is all on him, on the way his smile lingers, softer now, the edges of his usually confident expression unraveling into something more tentative.
for a moment, geto's quiet, his gaze falling to his hands. his fingers toy with one of the silver rings on his right hand, twisting it in slow circles. It’s a small, nervous gesture, and it catches you off guard — suguru geto is never nervous.
the silence stretches in the late afternoon light, but then geto shifts in his seat, leaning forward slightly, his hands fiddling with the silver rings stacked on his fingers. the movement catches your attention, and when you glance up, you notice something different about him. the easy confidence that seems to follow him like a second shadow is nowhere to be seen. instead, his jaw is tight, his shoulders tense, and there’s a flicker of something nervous in the way his fingers twist the largest ring around and around.
he's looking at you, meeting your gaze, and you’re startled by the uncharacteristic seriousness in his eyes.
"hey," he says, his voice quieter than usual, a touch rough around the edges.
"yeah?"
geto exhales slowly, his lips pressing into a line before he speaks again.
"okay, look. i -” he pauses, running a hand through his hair, dislodging the tie holding his hair together, so choppy, dark locks fall around his shoulders. you school your face well enough so you don't look like you've been punched in the gut by cupid.
"i like you," he says finally, his words tumbling out in a rush, like they’ve been bottled up for too long, "i’ve liked you for a while now. and - and i’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you without, like… messing everything up."
your breath catches, the words landing like a firework in the quiet space between you. geto likes you? he likes you?
geto keeps going, as if he’s afraid to lose his nerve.
"i asked gojo for advice — stupid, i know, don't make that face — and he told me to just… keep taking you out and hope you’d get the hint. said that you'd realise eventually," and one of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers you know groans, covering his face briefly with one hand, as if he's embarrassed.
"which was a terrible plan because i'm awful at hints, and apparently, so is he, considering he’s never had a girlfriend in his life."
you blink, the shock giving way to a surprised laugh, the sound spilling out before you can stop it.
"wait — gojo? he's the one who gave you advice? he doesn’t even know the first thing about relationships! do you remember the time that he went on one date, and got dumped the next day for trying to buy dinner out of the vending machine."
"i know!" geto says, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation, but there’s a small, embarrassed smile tugging at his lips now, "i know it was a bad idea. i just wanted to tell you, straight up. but I didn’t know what else to do, okay? i didn’t want to screw this up."
you fall silent at that, your laughter fading as the weight of his words sinks in. he's looking at you now, his expression open and raw in a way that makes your chest ache.
"i just — i want to do this right," he says softly, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. "i want to be your boyfriend. properly. i want to take you out, and to be able to call you mine, and — i don’t know — do all the cheesy stuff couples do."
his hand brushes the back of his neck, his eyes dropping to the table for a moment before flicking back to yours, "but if that’s weird, or if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. you don’t have to say yes. promise i won't cry in front of you."
Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it, a wild, dizzying rhythm that drowns out everything else. You stare at him, your mind struggling to catch up with what he’s just said, with the fact that he likes you. geto—cool, effortlessly charming geto—wants to be your boyfriend.
"wait," you manage finally, your voice shaky with disbelief. "you… like me? like, you really like me?"
geto laughs softly, though there’s still a nervous edge to it. "yeah, i really do. it's probably stupidly obvious by now, isn’t it? i mean, everyone said it was so obvious, and shoko said you already knew."
you shake your head, bewildered. "no! i mean, yes — but no! i just thought you only saw me as a friend. i never thought — "
you stop yourself, realising you’re rambling, and take a deep breath. then, before you can overthink it or possibly faint, you say, "yes."
geto's thin brows furrow slightly. "yes?"
"yeah," you repeat, a smile breaking across your face. "i'd really like that. i do want to go out with you, suguru."
relief washes over his features, followed by a grin so genuine and bright it leaves you breathless. for a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes warm and full of something you can’t quite name, something that makes you feel like the centre of the universe.
"oh my god, thank god, you don't even know, i was actually going to have a heart attack..." he mutters, almost to himself, before he blinks, like he's forgetting something. then, with an almost comical jolt of realisation, he clears his throat.
"right," he says, the word drawn out, as if he’s trying to ground himself. "i need to pay for the tab."
you laugh nervously, still reeling from everything that’s just happened, and shake your head quickly, thinking back to the meagre bills in your pocket. "oh, it’s okay! i can pay for my own -"
but geto's head snaps up at that, and he fixes you with a look so incredulous, so utterly affronted, that it startles you into silence.
"no way," he says, his voice firm but laced with humour and he leans forward slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of warmth that sends your heart racing all over again, "i’m your boyfriend now. you really think I’m going to let you pay?"
it's unfamiliar and thrilling all at once. your cheeks burn, and you can’t stop the laugh that escapes you, a mix of delight and disbelief.
"unbelievable," you say, shaking your head, but there’s no real protest in your voice.
geto grins, the expression crooked and self-assured in a way that’s so unmistakably him, and it takes your breath away. then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches across the table, his hand brushing against yours before his fingers gently curl around them.
it's such a simple gesture, but it feels monumental, like the air around you shifts in response. his hand is warm, slightly calloused at the fingertips, and the way his thumb grazes over your knuckles sends a quiet thrill through you.
you glance down at your joined hands, unable to stop the soft, surprised smile that spreads across your face. when you look back up, geto is watching you, his expression open and unguarded, as if he’s memorising every detail of this moment.
"so," he says quietly, his voice softer now, "is this the part where you say you’re going to let me spoil you a little?"
you laugh again, your thumb brushing over the back of his hand in return. "i guess i don’t really have a choice now, do i?"
his smile widens, and there’s a faint pink tint to his cheeks that makes your heart ache with how much you like him.
"nope," he says, his tone teasing but earnest. "you really don’t."
and as you sit there, your hand in geto's, surrounded by the golden light and the lingering sweetness of cheesecake, you think that maybe — just maybe — this is what happiness feels like.
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the-meme-monarch · 1 year ago
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been rewatching hlvrai and drawing along :]
edit i fixed the last one (drew his gun on the wrong arm and it Ate At Me (yes i just flipped the drawing what are you a cop))
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