#the unsealed

[malakkc-poetry]

Review on my acrostic poem: Forgiveness

FORGIVENESS Forge your will in steal,Outmaneuver your enemies, who feel,Replete in knowing they’re the heel.Give them your support when they fall,Inspire them to be better than before.View their progress and motivate before you bore,Inverting foe to friend, like before. Never lose hope for betterment Even when all is stacked against you,Simmer the anger, put logic to the forefrontSurvive, learn,…

[welcometowonderlanddd]

Let’s Unseal The Magic with my second poetry feature from another poetry book written by people like me!! My poem, My Kind of Perfect is under “What Do You Love About This Chapter of Your Life?” It is about love, about my man and how perfect and special he is to me. It's personal but one I adore. Cannot thank The Unsealed enough for continuing to see potential in my writing. It’s terrific to see MY SECOND PUBLIC POEM FEATURE!! I’m so proud of myself! Onward and upward to the future!😄❤️🥰🙏🏼✍🏼👩🏽‍💻📖

[riessene]

my take on fields of mistria's second mystery romance ;^)

[bliss-in-the-void]

By Suguru’s design alone.

[keisins]

gojo satoru x reader. fwb!au. angst to comfort/fluff

kind of a sequel to this

You’ve been ghosted.

To be fair, you had kind of expected this. Key work: kind of. You try to not let your heart constrict itself into an organ of loathe, depression and hatred for the past 3 weeks.

Unfortunately, the agony still sits on your granite kitchen counter three weeks later. It’s in the box of his stuff he had the nerve to leave behind, along with all the thread-like semblance of hope you had for your future together. (How foolish of you, really.)

The kitchen itself, however, is empty. The living room you’re standing in — also empty. Your family and friends who came to help you move your stuff to your new apartment left a few minutes ago. They’re on their way there first to pick up some food before all of you move more heavy boxes into the place. And you’re grateful.

Grateful that you have people in your life that don’t ghost you, even if you can count them on a hand. People that care. That are consistent in your life. That aren’t curse-bound.

God, you hated him for the first week. Hated how even though you tried to make his habitual appearances not a part of your routine, you find yourself missing the white hair that tickles your neck when you search for a fresh set of pajamas, the clingy hands that harbor not-so-innocent touches as you put on skin care, and even sometimes, in the morning when you didn’t have the heart to kick him out the last night, the most amateur brewing of coffee you’ve ever had because who needs coffee when you have Gojo Satoru to keep you energized.

You shake your head to rid your thoughts. You take a deep breath in, ready to say goodbye to the place, goodbye to the memories, ready to let the box be discarded away just like he has done to you.

And just as you almost let go, you feel it.

You feel him. You don’t turn. You can’t. Because it cannot be real. You know what’s real and it’s not tender kisses and hands intertwined, it’s a job in a new city, in a new position. Life is not Gojo Satoru, it’s a new apartment.

Yet, there in your old apartment, you come to life upon hearing his voice.

“I see you’ve changed the place.”

His joke comes soft and light, as if to not scare you. Because he has to know that you are livid. He keeps his distance. Though, everything in Satoru is compelled to hold you. He thinks your name must be carved into his bones, with the way it urges his joints to reach for you, always always drawn to you.

You still haven’t turned. Still in shock, because this has to be a hallucination. Some sick joke from the universe, maybe. He calls your name, but before he can close his mouth, you turn around and ask harshly, “What are you doing here?”

Tears are already brimming at your eyes. You find yourself looking at him for the first time in a long time and it makes your heart ache. You could hear him out, but there is something in you that doesn’t want to. You had been raised with impatient needs, always in a rush to satisfy the ones who claimed to love you. Love is patient, love is kind, and you want it so bad to not be love.

A moment of silence passes by as Gojo bores into you, until his heart caves and takes a big step toward you, tests the water by taking your hand in his.

And you cry, weakly shrugging away, before he’s pulling you into the warmest embrace of your life.

“I’m sorry.” He catches sight of the box on the counter and can only guess what it could be. He’s been so selfish with his love for you, that he had forgotten about the treachery that so greatly tries to seep through his infinity. Gojo hadn’t accounted for it, didn’t ever in his life think he could feel afford to be humbled. But, as he stands there with you falling apart in his arms, he feels intimidated. “I’m so sorry.”

“I hate you.” Are you okay? How have you been? Where did you go? He hums softly, still caging you with his arms. You dare to ask, because to love is to be vulnerable, “Where were you?”

He holds you tighter, his eyes threatening to drop some tears of their own. He laughs and you can hear how watery it is when he tells you, “A box.”

You pull away, brows furrowed as you look up at him. He wipes away a falling tear on your cheek before pulling you into him again, desperate for you to not see him cry.

“I’ll explain later… Just let me hold you right now.”

[thegoatsongs]

Arthur Holmwood, because he loves Lucy -> Summons Jack Seward, later Quincey Morris, to help

Jack Seward, because he loves Lucy -> Summons Van Helsing from another country, to help

Van Helsing, because he loves Lucy -> Summons Mina Harker with: "how you love her... By that love, I implore you, help me."

[cuntstable]

mithrun makes me feel so crazy bc like he IS more than willing to kill dungeon lords and anyone who protects them but his first reaction to meeting them is always trying desparately to talk them out of it by warning them of what will happen to them in the long run. like what the demon will do to them…… like hes so clearly driven by not wanting other people to go through what he did, alongside his desire for revenge ofc. and i dont even think hes aware of that but its such an interesting contrast to how he seemingly was a very resentful person towards those around him before he got consumed….. aaahhh

[werewolf-girlfriend]

[reckless-rider]

Come get your I survived stickers

[ID: an image of a large, gold star. inside the star are the words: "I survived Gojo's sealment of 1184 days". /End ID.]

[malakkc-poetry]

The Unsealed Anthology will publish my poem,  Give Up,  Never

[welcometowonderlanddd]

*the following poem is written by me and can now be seen featured in The Unsealed’s poetry book: Unseal Your Best Life under Your Perfect Day, along with other people’s poetry or letter within that community.*

Family Party

I can recall a particularly bright summertime day

A big family party is held in the backyard    

Everyone had gathered around from near and far to this event

The happy sensation of fits of laughter heard all around

A big family party is held in the backyard

I'm wearing my graduation cap and gown, and my high school diploma is in my hand

The happy sensation of fits of cheer is heard all around

There is nothing but love that fills my heart

I'm wearing my graduation cap and gown, and my high school diploma is in my hand

My elderly great-aunt came to me with a hug and a proud smile

There is nothing but love that fills my heart

I'm glad to have her here and see me graduate high school

My elderly great-aunt was close to me and had a proud smile

With a side hug, she smiled wide and posed with me

I'm glad to have her here and see me graduate high school

My mother begged us to take a family picture together

With a side hug, watching her smiling wide and posing with me

Other close family and friends wanted to pose with me too

As my mother begged us to take a family picture together

Before this excited, fulfilled party comes to an end

As other close family and friends wanted to pose with me too

Everyone had gathered around from near and far to this event

Before this excited, fulfilled party comes to an end

I can still recall this particularly bright summertime day

[kyorru]

someone please tell gojo to not get rid of this because it’s a surprise tool that could help him later

[claremikas]

oh my fucking god she's finally back

[sukunasun]

how would gojo treat his partner/wife?

gojo doesn't really do the whole boyfriend thing very well, not for lack of trying but he's made it very clear. or as clear as "i've never had a girlfriend" can be. which pretty much explains everything.

there are late-night meetups and month-long breaks in between. maybe a gift or two when he's trying to make up for something, it's the only way he knows how to apologize. the latest being cartier bracelets tucked in a red bag, one he holds up to your face eagerly wishing that you'd just forget he's so flawed, in no way ready for commitment, or to talk about it. "i'm sorry, it's just really complicated," he'll sigh. nothing holds gojo down you think. he comes and goes as he pleases. always growing, changing, keeping the end of the world from happening all in plain sight while you move on with a life filled with mundane things he’s probably got no time or reason to care about.

it feels a lot like loving a god sometimes, how he's just that bit out of touch, and...impossible. one who’s desperately trying to be human. with so much fear in his shaking hands and bated breaths, with his lip tucked between teeth, holding back the words he shall never utter, 'don't leave, don't look at me, don't touch me where it hurts.’ gojo treats you—at least initially—like he would anyone else. like he’s learning to love for the first time.

backdraft or whatever they call it. opening a door to a burning house, a fire that bursts and screams at the first rush of oxygen. he wants you to step inside and manage these tempers, seething and roiling resentment, a roof that falls in on itself. 

all this and he's yet to tell you how he really feels about you, however, every once in a while, he does make the effort to call.

“hey it's me,” he says the moment you answer because who else would it be at this hour...does that thing with his voice that's so effortless. warm, and inviting. seductive really. ringing through right as the snow outside begins to frost over wilting leaves.

“sorry, don’t think i know who this is,” you reply, adding a playful lilt to the end of it. there’s a low chuckle in return, then the rustling of sheets, it’s enough to paint you a picture of him in bed. a very large bed from what you remembered, but the last time you’d stopped by his place, there'd been no need for accurate measurements, thread counts, and whether or not he’d gone with sustainable options. in fact, there was no need for talking at all, only muffled moans into the crook of your neck, a whining plea here or there. gojo likes to grit through his teeth, pausing before every first thrust, a savourer is he.

speaking of which, he asks, “how’d you like a reminder?”

you weigh things out, tucking your phone between ear and shoulder. "it's a tempting offer...but i'm starting to feel a little used here," you say. this is just a check-in point for him. just so he knows he still can have his fill of you and...whatever it is you bring to the table, he hasn't actually told you.

'it's the sex' your brain reminds you—all the multiple orgasms in under an hour–type sex, in an onsen, over a balcony, backshots and binding you to fancy rig, will accept a blowjob only if you want to, eager to please, so willing to learn—no, that's not true, the both of you are so much more than that. you talk about very important things like the news and whats good on tv right now. just as long as it doesn't have anything to do with his past or his future or what exactly is the state of this relationship...so it's definitely the sex.

"i thought that's what you wanted, weren't you screaming it at the top of your lungs that night?" for effect, he acts it out for you, "oh use me, do whatever you like," he doesn't try to pitch his voice higher, which makes it all the more embarrassing when hearing your own words said back to you with such impassiveness, such tease. who you were during the throes of passion is not the same person outside of it. to think he'd been a virgin when he met you.

"that selective memory of yours never ceases to amaze me," you can't help the smile that widens on your face.

he smiles too, despite not being able to see it, you know it's there. "well im a very selective man, i don't just ask anyone on a date." you roll your eyes at that. oh how you should feel so lucky. most times he chooses the place because gojo likes what he likes and your recommendations end up getting shot down or made fun of anyways.

you'd say the best part is that he shows up every time. something about how he detests people who flake on him. which is surprising because if anyone were to be tardy and forgetful, it'd be the man who's maybe a bit too blase about anything that doesn't hold his interest for long. that includes when and where his missions are, a flailing hand brushing off any bit of urgency or seriousness. picks and chooses the things he finds worthy of his efforts, his overly exaggerated bouts of emotion—"you wanna go sit by a lake and talk?" people often say he talks too much, besides didn't he just get off the phone with you hours ago.

"we're bonding, there's a difference," you defend, putting your foot down on the matter. if it'd been months earlier, you wouldn't have thought to stand your ground, and maybe a part of you would have been anxious over his reaction but gojo only gives you a pout. shiny, moistened lips giving it away, he's not coming out of this one without a fight and he's annoyed about it. reluctant.

so he'll make an exception, "fine, we'll psychoanalyze each other, how exciting—" the sarcasm is slathered and piled on thick. if he weren't masked you'd kick him in the shin for that eye roll he gives you, childlike almost, given the chance he might even stick his tongue out, "—but i get to choose the place, ah, ah, it's about compromise darling."

——————————————————

later on, when he's three parfaits deep into a sugar rush at a maid cafe, he admits, "you scare me sometimes," of course, he understands the importance of communication, and getting to know one another is part of the deal, this is what girlfriends and boyfriends do, but— "how are you still here?" there's something hidden in his question, sometimes it feels almost like he's testing you to see if you'd be offended, taken aback, huffing out indignantly and stomping away, making him watch you leave.

still, your answer remains the same. "i like you," you sigh out into the night, feeling his arms wrapped around your middle. gojo doesn't need worshipping or sacrifices made to please and appease, but he’s feeling ten feet tall in this body, too long and large, housing power he didn’t ask for. 

“you really mean that?” he whispers in the crook of your neck, you don’t miss the hint of self-deprecation there, or the uncertainty.

so you reach a hand up, just enough to hold his head full of self-doubt, “yes," is all that's needed for him to crumble. walls coming down.

"you're the only woman i've ever been with," he admits. waiting for the moment you face away from him so it's not as revealing, not as vulnerable, and he can say it with just that little bit of courage because he wouldn't see your reaction, he's escaped death many times, he'd be able to say it now, say it here. "and i intend to keep it that way..." you know he's waiting in anticipation for the final blow, the real death that comes for him is when he loses you because of how unlikely it sounds, gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, only bedded one woman.

his fingers come up to graze the slope of your shoulder, before he wraps an arm around your chest, pressing his weight into you from behind, wrapping you up, only it's ten times heavier when his admission presses down on your thumping little heart alongside with it.

——————————————————

in the middle of a restaurant in ginza, gojo breaks his chopsticks in half along a deep line with fine precision, before rubbing them back and forth to remove the thin, stray hairs of aspen. there are people who look up when the sound catches their attention, then avert their eyes away. but not before lingering over his striking looks for that split second, blue eyes and white hair, what a combo.

he barely notices at this point, but he does know you’re watching from where you sit. food untouched, like you’re waiting for something to happen. you don’t need his permission he thinks, or at least, no one had ever waited for it. so he explains before you get the chance to ask, getting it out of the way and maybe then you’ll start digging in and he wouldn’t have to sit in this weird, silent tension, “he always did it this way,” gojo shrugs. 

you don’t ask who 'he' refers to, “i wasn’t going to say anything,” you reply, nodding along, trying to ease some of the nerves there because this isn't to do with the chopsticks, but that gojo gets like this around christmas. actually, he gets like this almost all the time these days. 

“why aren’t you eating? the unagi’s really nice,” he points to the piece of eel that’s cooked to perfection, glazed and sticky. “is it not to your liking?” he looks up quickly, searching your face, looking for any sign of distaste. 

“it’s fine,” you stop him from waving down the waiter, knowing he intends to order something else for you. but he never asks, not about what you would prefer or if you had any aversions to seafood. instead, he plays a guessing game, only tries, and tries again. hoping that he’d get it right immediately. just another thing satoru does. that he's way more accommodating than most would give him credit for. so much so you forget that he's barely touched the unagi himself, choosing instead to nudge it closer to you.

and maybe he’d been to used to this, maybe he’d always gotten it right with the one before you, maybe that’s why it hurts so much. and you're too occupied with wiping tears behind a blindfold that night to make sense of it when he can’t stop dreaming about long silken hair tucked into a bun, of a scent that lingers on a street crossing and by a classroom window.

still, he tucks a finger underneath the band. revealing clumped-up strands of white, silver, grey...a storming ocean swirls. a woman finally found, what a sight to behold. who chooses him and cleaves his heart in two every time she so much as smiles, calls him by his name, and touches his skin with her own. gently at first and then in a pressured, firm grip. "i'm not going anywhere," hand wholly encompassing his, fingers entwined, or maybe it's the other way around. gojo's got a wide expanse of palm, life and heart lines spanning across a region of an untouched, unmarred surface, all the power to bend space, time, and an infinity simmering above it.

“it’s gonna be okay,” you say, feeling a minuscule gap close where you finally feel him, really feel him.

[hermitsdump]

"sukuna wouldn't survive a McDonald's sprite" as if sukuna is not a masochist smh

[3-aem]

UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO UNSEAL GOJO