Miya Atsumu X Gn!reader, Suggestive

gojo satoru.

a freshly turned seventeen year old, with crass and violence only ever painting him—most get tired of him. because when the pretty thing opens his mouth, without you present to offer silent sympathy, it never ends well.

as the passage of time carries on, change in gojo is little, but hefty in others surrounding him; accustomed and changed befitting to survive through his moods.

but the.. curiosity (maybe even frustration from people who see him in a romantic plight) only becomes covered in layers, instead of dying down. to question his character, the incessant wonder for the reason of his friskiness.

and he’s aware— observes the dull remarks or lingering eyes with nothing more than a shrug that is a second too quick and barely noticeable pout, the jut of his lower lip acting as a childish gateway to his feelings.

in his head, taking the title as the strongest, fingertips skimming heaven, it has no setbacks.

despite his denies, his power never came without stripping something; ousting him from the realm of elysian and chaining him to humanity. giving him traits of a god but characteristics of a human.

and what they failed to give him, was a proper tongue.

in moments like these, more specifically.

finding you sitting on the engawa shrouded in shadows, while he took his usual midnight walk when sleep didn’t come.

his stomach drops without reason, yet his feet carries him towards you, sitting close enough to bump shoulders. you’ve bumped hips, shoulders and heads before, forever affectionate and familiar— this time it feels wrong. your body motionless and swayed slightly with his movement.

he clenches and unclenches his hands, staring out towards the training grounds as you are. his normal banter isn’t coming to him, and you haven’t said a word.

with a few blinks, his eyes rest on the side of your face, and he turns into a jumble of nerves and shock when he sees your eyes cloudy and a wet trail of tears left behind. tears that have been shed not long since he joined you because your skin glistens.

he gulps, hard.

and when his hand softly touches your thigh, caressing the flesh with hesitant strokes, your gaze flits on him. immediately he drops eye contact, focusing on drawing patterns on your skin as his complexion pinks with your attention. you tilt your head slightly in his direction, drinking in his attempt of comfort.

you lean on him gently, your face finding its home on his neck. the feeling of your wet eyelashes on his skin sends shivers down him. your chest rises and falls, and with each breaths he counts, the uncertainty in his touches dwindles. your lips curve upwards when you feel his arm travel across your waist, tugging you closer.

(you know the reason for his bravado. though you’ll hand it to him that it’s nothing but subtle.

articulating his emotions will never come to him easy. he will never know how to start or say it right. awkward and tense at times of vulnerability, so he resorts to puffing out his chest and making it worse, sticking with the hot headed persona.)

as he angles his head on top of yours, quiet in hopes to calm the turmoil brewing behind your eyes, you have half a mind to tell him he’s not as bad as he fears.

but for now, you like being the only one who cracks his facade.

The Poll Wormhole

Lmao how is this real, "the ambient sounds of the world were wrong, sir"

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO X FEM READER

You expected working at a convenience store during the twilight hours just to make enough to cover rent to be boring. After all, you took the job for the cash, not for a love of faking smiles for strangers who don’t care. The appearance of a stranger who seems to have a lot to hide is tantalizing bait to your boredom, but you can’t give in. That is, if you have a choice at all. 

wc — 3k

cw — mafia au but not really, implied but never addressed, is he or isn’t he, Gojo is Weird, blood, guns, this is not meant to be a serious gorey fic, its just a fun little way for me to branch out and stretch those writing muscles 

They don’t pay you enough to keep guns under the counters, but it’s cheaper to teach you to shoot then it is to pay for security cameras. It would be cheaper not to show you to protect yourself at all, actually, but you’re the sixth cashier they’ve burned through in as many weeks. Even in a town as down as this one is, rumors spread fast. 

The wages are shit, but it’s all you’ve got, and college is expensive for a degree as useless as yours is. Four months away from becoming a junior, and you’ve only held unpaid internships and this position as a cashier at a dirty, old convenience store on the wrong side of the train tracks. 

You think the owner is hiding something, or maybe that’s just wishful thinking for a job as boring as this one. People come and go, make rude comments, pick up beer and slide you IDs you weren’t trained to check. It’s quiet enough to convince you to let down your guard, then your fingers brush the cold metal underneath the register and you remember the long line of unnamed, unknown girls who came before you. 

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alright, just downloaded that new pinterest shuffles app, so obviously, my first post has to be truly devious…

there is something horrifically grim to it, but illustrations for gaza and palestinians tend to catch more mass attention that actual photos of people. this made me feel incredibly helpless for a long while, seeing both how people would rather look at a neat drawing of red black green and white than look a human in the eyes, and how online platforms would rather push a viral drawing while suppressing those begging for help at the same time.

a way to cope with this feeling has been taking advantage of it to directly guide people to helping palestinians.

if art gets better traction, then there’s an incredible amount of good that can be done by creating art that immediately links to fundraisers. creating art of the many images of those who are asking for help.

within hours of posting my drawing, there has been jumps in the thousands for bashar from gaza’s fundraiser. it’s a small effort in the grand scheme of things. it’s not a fix it. but it’s something good. please take care of each other and do what you can. i think this could help a lot of people if a lot of people did it.

here is bashar. i’ve drawn him, spoken to him, and known him now for a few months. any shares help, any art helps. draw who you see, draw what you see. thanks all

gofundme.com

Donate to Escaping Gaza To Pursue My Dream In Medicine, organized by Darina Bishop

If you would like to confirm the validity of this campaign, you can message… Darina Bishop needs your support for Escaping Gaza To Pursue My

NIGHT SHIFT 

a/n: (wc: 1k) gojo x reader, angst, i literally do not know what this is but i was listening to lucy dacus then this happened, not proofread we die like men

Contrary to popular belief, Satoru has never been good with his words. Not when it truly matters, at least.

A silver-tongue when it comes to all forms of mischief, he’s impressive at worming himself out of sticky situations. However, this is all the less impressive when you learn that his quick-witted remarks are usually what get him into those same situations. Oh, the double edged sword that is Gojo Satoru’s way with words.

Sometimes, he’s decent with them. He can convince you to stay in bed with him on those chilly winter mornings, turning five more minutes into twenty and a phone call into work feigning ill. He can persuade you to take a midnight trip to the bakery with him, indulging in sweets that would have your dentist going into cardiac arrest at the mere thought. He can recite the Jujutsu High handbook verbatim with ease, having memorized all of the rules he goes out of his way to ignore and diminish.

Always the loose-lipped loudmouth, it’s safe to say that he says a lot of things. 

On the contrary, one thing the great Gojo Satoru can’t say is I love you. 

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Same my guy

cell phone doesn't like water because it is a combination of the other three elements. it is a rock (earth) that we fill with lightning (fire) that can control radio waves (air). if it contained water too, it would be too perfect; it would be like a god. to prevent this, the universe kills the would be uniter-of-the-elements. it's basic science.

to pretend: to make as if; to put on an act.

megumi angst - the extra heart shattering kind

warnings: none i think, just a wedding and a sad sad reader

“y/n?”

megumis eyes gaze adoringly into yours and his voice is clear in the silent barn, decorated heavily with blue flowers and white ribbons. since you were kids this barn was a haven for you, set on the bank of a softly flowing river, amplifying the shrieks of joy from you and megumi as you caught the slippery toads that slept in the corners or took turns reading long and exciting fantasy books to each other, acting out the scenes with thick twigs you’d found on the barn floor as wooden swords, stubby arms haphazardly swinging the sharp branches in each other’s faces. and now, it was housing a wedding, a wedding that you and megumi and your best friend rina had been planning for months. every detail from the thick soft napkins to the tablecloths draped over the long tables horizontally lined up on either side of the barn, making way for an aisle in the center. but it was all wrong.

“i’m not so sure about this gumi” you mumble to him, but rina steps forward confidently and takes your hands in hers.

“y/n, there is no one, no one, i would be more honored to have as a best friend,” her hands squeeze yours softly, emphasizing her words, “…and no one i would be more honored to have speak at my wedding.”

“my wedding”

you grimace at her words, but this is her day, her and megumis day, and you’d be dammed if anyone ruined the wedding of the two people you loved the most, even if that person was you. so you step up to the microphone and take it shakily in your hands. you make eye contact with megumi one more time, and you see his eyes sparkle with unshed tears as his hand reaches for rinas, who smiles genuinely and lovingly at you. you clear your throat, and begin the story that will today join the two in front of you together, as husband and wife, and forever tear you apart.

“when i first met rina,” you begin…

“me-gu-mi!” you whine, pulling at his sleeve,“you can’t be this antisocial forever, what if i die? then you’ll have no friends,” you state bluntly.

“but i don’t need other friends.” megumi pouts, trying to withstand the power of your twelve year old arms threatening to rip his sweatshirt apart. “why do we hafta go hang out with her?”

“because i wanna and because i said so,” you say stubbornly, and drag him over to the empty lunch table, save for a dark haired girl with her hair tied up with a red hair tie , “we’ll be like the three musketeers!”

the girl notices you and the grumpy megumi behind you , and her face lights up into a smile. “hi,” she says shyly, looking up at you, “wanna sit?”

“of course!” you say, letting go of megumis sleeve and eagerly slide into the seat next to her. “i’m y/n, and this is megumi,” you add, pointing to the dark haired boy occupying the seat next to you, “wanna be friends?”. the girl nods again, pointing at herself, “i’m rina” she introduces with a smile.

“…i think originally rina and megumi were,” you pause, thinking of the right word because you hadn’t practiced beforehand, hadn’t even had a draft because while you were able to force yourself to help with everything else, drowning in the work to forget who it was for, you couldn’t bring yourself to relive these moments any longer than you had to. “…weary of each other”, you continue, which earns a few chuckles from the audience.

“is that your brother?” rina whispers to you when megumi goes to throw out his trash, taking yours with him as well like he’s been doing since elementary, but leaving rinas with a glare that he knows will earn a pinch later on.

“no, silly,” you giggle,”he’s just my friend.”

“oh,” rina says, “i don’t think he likes me that much.”

“megumi just isn’t good with new people,” you reassure her, “i’m sure he’ll warm up to you.”

“…but it was as if a magnetic force drew them together,” you paused, the physical hurt of saying these words numbing your mind, “they couldn’t stay away from each other if they wanted.”

“gums i can’t make it to the library,” your voice is lined with annoyance and disappointment, clear even through the phone, “you and rina’ll just have to stay without me.” megumi hmphs from the other end but reluctantly agrees to stay for your sake, you want them to be friends, you were tired of the tension between them during those lunches, and you’d grown close to rina, you wanted her to stay, and that meant megumi had to accept her as well. but accept was a pathetic word to describe what came next. first it was subtle. your phone pinged and you looked down to find a text from megumi. “me and rina are going to that bakery downtown, wanna come?” you frowned, when did they make those plans? maybe at the library, maybe they exchanged numbers? but you shrugged it off, happy your two best friends were able to get along this well. then it sped up. you’d gone out shopping with your mom for birthday presents for your brother, and walking into a candy shop you saw megumi, pointing at different jars of candy next to a blushing and excited rina, who was doing the same. why were they here without you? it’s not that you wanted to control the friendship, but you were the three musketeers, the inseparables, yet you’d known nothing about this plan. so you slipped out and pushed it to the back of your mind.

“…and soon enough the inevitable happened,” you continue, and you see megumi wink at rina and a couple guests laugh at the exchange, “they fell in love. why wouldn’t they? they were p-perfect for each other.”

“y/n? can i talk to you?” rina says meekly, not quite meeting your eyes.

“of course rina! what’s up?” you ask, although some dark angry part of you already knows what she’s about to say. the same thing that megumi had said to you two weeks ago, sitting on your bedroom floor, fiddling with his fingers and pleading you not to be upset. “y/n i like someone,” he’d started, “she’s pretty and she’s smart and she’s everything i’ve ever dreamed of.” your heart races, you’ve liked megumi too, for the longest time, ever since that day he’d given you his umbrella and walked through the pouring rain with you to make sure you got to your house even though it was in the opposite direction of his. “she’s so caring and i’ve just realized how much more she means to me then a friend after all our years together. you nod shyly to megumi, and reach out to grab his hand, but he lifts it up and runs it through his hair. “so?” he asks you, “does rina like me back?”

“y/n?” you hear rina say, and you realize you’ve zoned out for most of her confession, too lost in the one megumi made about her. “does gumi like me back?”

“w-ahat? oh yes, yes he does!” you feign excitement, and push her out the door, “you should go find him! confess, it’ll go well i promise, he’s liked you for a while too.” and when she leaves you close the door and collapse, all hopes of megumi gone and down the gutter. even worse, you were all still friends, this was a relationship you would have to support, you didn’t hate either of them for it, you knew they were both exceptional people and you were happy for them, but at what expense?

”which brings us to now, this couple standing before you, two of the sweetest, most compassionate and kind people, and my two best friends, who are about to be wedded and deserve all the happiness in the world. i know how much you love each other, i can see it in your actions, the way he pulls out chairs for you rina, and cares for you even when you don’t want to care for yourself”, you say, remembering the time you’d spent hours packing and planning for a day at the museum together but megumi had texted you asking you to make up a reason to cancel because rina was on her period but too stubborn to cancel herself, “and the way she calms you and makes you happy, lights up the light in your eyes and warms your heart megumi,” you say, recalling the time megumi had broken his arm and you’d been there first since you were closer, him wincing when you hugged him and giving short tired answers to your questions, but lighting up when tina ran through the doors, seeing her eyes light up and look past you to him had hurt , seeing them hug and megumi not flinching once had hurt too. “i hope that you will forever be happiest together, and that the future holds nothing but good for you two.” a future i’m not in you think. “thank you.” you say and the tears flow as you step down from the stage and celebrate the joining of the man you love most with the woman you consider a sister. but your tears are hidden in plain sight, sheer overwhelming emotion, an outpouring of happiness it looks like to onlookers. but it is only the opposite. you slip away for the vows, you don’t think you’re strong enough for that after the speech you’ve just given, and eventually megumi finds you, sitting on the curving stairs leading up to the loft, crying softly.

“you ok y/n/n?” he asks softly, his thumb grazing your cheek as he wipes a tear away, but the action no longer flutters your heart, the heart in question too broken beyond repair it seemed, to ever flutter again.

“i’m fine gumi, i’m fine.”

if only you weren’t pretending.