Ive Been Neglecting Unrequited Terrifying Hopefully I Can Finish Writing It And Editing It This Week

tell me why i caught a stray from a SEVENTH GRADER

Happy Valentine’s Day!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

don't be mad

I GOT NOMINATED FOR THE USC ICE BUCKET THING 😭😭😭💔

got 2nd in skating comp !!

tied by ink | choso x reader

for the @phantasmaebg event

wc: 1350

your soulmate tattoo showed up on your sixteenth birthday, scrawled across your wrist like a bold declaration: “stay.” it wasn’t cute, romantic, or poetic like you imagined. it was blunt. vague. frustrating.

and years later, you still had no clue what it meant.

that’s why you were here now, sitting in a tattoo parlor that smelled like antiseptic and fresh ink, the fluorescent lighting humming faintly above you. you didn’t know what you wanted yet, but you knew you needed something.

“you here for a consult?” the girl at the counter asked.

“yeah,” you replied, your fingers twitching nervously at your side.

“choso’s got time. best hands in the shop.” she grinned, jerking her thumb toward the back.

you nodded, muttering a quick thanks before heading toward the artist’s booth.

as you turned the corner, you saw him sitting there—dark hair pulled into a messy half-bun, loose strands falling around his sharp face. tattoos covered his forearms, disappearing beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt.

hot.

his dark eyes flicked up as you approached, pinning you in place.

“you’re here for a tattoo?” his voice was deep, smooth like it didn’t belong in this tiny shop.

“uh, yeah,” you stammered, your heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

he gestured to the chair in front of him, and you sat, trying not to fidget as his gaze lingered on you for just a moment too long.

“so, what are you thinking?”

you hesitated. “something small, but meaningful. i just… need something new.”

he tilted his head, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to read you. “first one?”

“yeah.”

he hummed, his gaze dropping to your wrist. you’d forgotten to cover the soulmate mark today, and his eyes lingered on the word inked there.

“soulmate tattoo,” he said casually, like it wasn’t the most personal thing he could’ve pointed out.

you tensed. “everyone’s got one.”

“not everyone,” he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. “what’s the story with yours?”

you glanced away, your face heating up. “there’s no story. it says ‘stay.’ it’s… complicated.”

“complicated how?”

you met his gaze, your frustration bubbling up. “it doesn’t mean anything. not yet, anyway. and honestly, i’m not holding my breath.”

his lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. “so you’re one of those people who doesn’t believe in soulmates?”

“i didn’t say that,” you shot back. “i just… don’t think everyone finds theirs. or if they do, maybe it doesn’t work out.”

he didn’t respond right away, but the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest smirk. “fair enough.”

you watched as he grabbed a sketchpad, his tattooed hands moving with practiced precision. “let’s figure out something that fits,” he murmured, his focus shifting to the page.

the way his fingers moved, the way he hunched slightly over the paper, made it impossible to look away. he radiated confidence, like he knew exactly what he was doing—not just with the drawing, but with you, too.

“so,” he said after a few minutes, his voice breaking the silence. “you’ve never thought about finding them?”

“my soulmate?” you asked, trying to sound casual even though his words sent a weird shiver down your spine.

“yeah.”

you shrugged, leaning back in the chair. “not really. it’s not like they’re going to show up out of nowhere.”

“sometimes they do.”

his tone was calm, but something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. you glanced at him, your brows furrowing.

“has it happened to you?”

he didn’t answer right away, his dark eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before returning to his sketch. “maybe.”

cryptic much, you thought, but you couldn’t deny the way your pulse jumped.

“what does your tattoo say?” you asked, leaning forward slightly.

his lips curved, but he didn’t look up. “you really wanna know?”

“obviously.”

“you’ll find out.”

“that’s not an answer,” you muttered, but he ignored you, his focus back on the page.

when he finally turned the sketchpad around, your breath hitched.

“what do you think?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“it’s…” you swallowed. “it’s perfect.”

he gave you a small nod, standing to prep his station. “this’ll hurt a little,” he warned as you settled into the chair, rolling up your sleeve.

“i can handle it,” you replied, though your voice came out shakier than you wanted.

his hands were steady as he guided the needle over your skin, the soft hum of the machine filling the room. the sting was sharp at first, but it quickly dulled into a strange sort of comfort.

“so,” he said after a while, his tone almost conversational, “if your soulmate walked through that door right now, what would you say?”

you hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “i don’t know. maybe… ‘where the hell have you been?’”

he let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a tingle down your spine. “bold.”

“what about you?” you asked, desperate to turn the attention off yourself. “what would you say?”

his hands didn’t falter, but his voice dropped a notch. “depends on if they’d stay.”

your heart skipped, his words hitting deeper than you expected. you glanced at him, but his expression was unreadable, his focus entirely on your arm.

when he finally pulled back, he wiped the tattoo clean, tilting your arm toward the light.

“done,” he said simply.

you stared at the design, your chest tightening. it was beautiful, perfect in a way that almost felt… familiar.

“thank you,” you murmured, your voice softer now.

he leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. “anytime.”

as you stood to leave, you caught a glimpse of his wrist as he reached for something—a single word inked there in bold black letters.

“stay.”

your blood ran cold.

he noticed your pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as he followed your gaze. when your eyes met again, there was no denying it.

“you’ve got to be kidding me,” you whispered.

he smirked, leaning casually against the counter. “took you long enough.”

“you—” your words caught in your throat, your pulse racing. “why didn’t you say anything?”

“wanted to see if you’d figure it out,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm.

you took a shaky breath, your mind reeling. “so what now?”

he pushed off the counter, stepping closer until the space between you felt suffocating.

“now,” he said, his voice low, “you decide if you’re gonna stay.”

✩ "I hate everything and everyone, but you.".:｡✧*.｡✰───

summary: in which megumi's the second lead, yuuji's the first.

contents: jjk as angst tropes series, f!reader x yuuji, megumi as the second lead, hurt/comfort(?), unrequited love

word count: ≈1.2k

If anyone knew anything about Megumi, it was that he claimed he hated a lot of things, but he never actually meant it.

For example–to this day, he still hates the way Gojo chose to move Itadori’s room right next to his. Deep down, he liked it, and everyone around him knew that. 

Or the other time Yuuji saw him eye-ing a book in the library, only to get it for him the next day. Yuuji saw right through Megumi’s narrowed eyes and “Why’d you waste your time getting this for me?” statement and the gratitude behind it carried them.

Another example can be the way Gojo surprises him with random gifts after his shopping–it wasn’t Megumi’s love language (he denied having one), but Gojo’s six eyes wouldn’t miss how his expression softened whenever he’d receive the item.

“I truly hate it,” Megumi would retort.

“Sure you do,” Gojo would chuckle, ruffling the black-haired boy’s hair. Gojo knew past all that toughness he put up was a soft and tender heart, and he wished Megumi would be in touch with it one day.

Well, until you came.

Megumi truly hated the fact that ever since you transferred to jujutsu high, you’ve taken up more of his mind than he wanted it to. Gojo noticed this too, actually. Sure, Megumi thought you were just a good friend, much like Kugisaki and Itadori. However, he couldn’t deny the way he stuttered and lost his cool demeanour around you–every uncharacteristic slip of his composure bothered him. He truly hated the way his heart throbbed out of his chest whenever he’d speak to you, and the blush Gojo always called him out on whenever you were even slightly mentioned. 

Being in the same year as you, it didn’t make things easier for Megumi. And he hated it, truly.

Megumi truly hated the way he couldn’t simply hold your hand, or utter the words “I love you” to you. Couldn’t place a kiss on your forehead whenever you two spent your time alone together—or even in a crowd. But worse, he hated how you wouldn’t notice just the inner turmoil and dilemma of emotions every time you did a simple and friendly action like patting his back or shaking his hand.

Megumi truly hated the way that the only person who noticed his feelings were his sensei, and that the feelings were so overpoweringly strong and painful that he’d allow Gojo to see such a vulnerable side of him as his voice shook when ranting to Gojo about you. He hated the way Gojo would actually drop his cocky and playful demeanor to comfort him, even though he truly needed it.

Megumi truly hated the way you always smiled when you were with Yuuji–not that he had anything against you two, but he wished you’d smile that way with him. He hated the way he would observe the bond between you and Yuuji growing. Warm, bright, and comfortable. He’d wish you’d shift your way closer to him instead of Yuuji whenever you guys were in a group setting, or lean in closer when you’d laugh with him instead of Yuuji. He’d wish you’d also use his first name too, not only just for Yuuji.

Fushiguro truly hated the way he’d still care for you. He listened to your rants about how your heart would beat at the sight of his best friend. He’d noticed your favorite drinks and food way before Yuuji did. He always brought you an umbrella when you didn’t check the weather forecast. He’d hold back slightly whenever he was training with you to make sure he wouldn’t hurt you–he hated that he still cared.

But what Fushiguro truly hated the most was the way your eyes lit up when you announced that you were dating Yuuji. The heartache that felt like an arrow of mockery and sorrow when you told him that you were dating Yuuji–he even impressed himself when he was able to hide it behind a shrug and a mumbled “Congrats, now I have to deal with you two even more.”

He’d silently retreat to his room after the announcement, not being able to hold in the pain he felt seeing you kiss Yuuji on the cheek. He wasn’t surprised that Gojo was following him the whole time. After all, Gojo was the only one who knew. Who could’ve hid anything from those darn six eyes?

Gojo didn’t ask him what was wrong–he knew. He’d close the door in Fushiguro’s dorm after entering, holding his arms out to the boy. Once Fushiguro turned back and saw the open arms, he’d truly hate the next moments of stumbling before clutching onto Gojo’s clothes as he tried to contain his tears. He’d truly hate the way Gojo turned off his infinity for him, rubbing his back comfortingly as the broken hearted boy choked back muffled sobs. He truly hated the way he buried his face deep into Gojo’s shirt, gripping it messily and clumsily as the tears poured out, feeling like that was his only illusion that he was still in control of himself. He truly hated the way that Gojo knew everything that was going through his head without him verbalizing it. “It’s okay, just let it out, Megs,” Gojo would whisper into Megumi’s ears–which he truly hated, no matter how much he needed to hear it. The words would only trigger more tears, and the two were on the floor as Megumi wrapped his arms tighter around Gojo, his voice ripping so tragically from his throat it felt like skin being peeled off.

The heartache hurt much more than the tears that came out–and he’d truly hate the way he was grateful for how considerate Gojo was.

But ultimately, he’d hate the way he wasn’t better for you. The way he felt like he wasn’t enough. The way he felt like his lack of a cheerful spirit, lack of a strong soul, the way he didn’t know how to express his emotions, the way he wasn’t like Yuuji—the way he didn’t confess first when he had the time to–that all of it was probably the reason why you fell in love with Yuuji and not him. He hated all of it. It hurt. It hurt so much. It hurt him. It–

“It hurts,” He muttered so quietly that Gojo almost didn’t pick it up.

“I know, Megs," Gojo whispered gently. "But do you hate her?” Gojo asked, rubbing Fushiguro’s back.

Megumi didn’t even realize that he had spoken out all his thoughts through choked sobs and incoherent crying, but nothing seemed more important than you at the moment. Not even his own feelings.

“No…” He whispered, his voice wavered. “But this… this is the worst curse I’ve ever faced,” He replied, pulling his head out of Gojo’s chest as he messily wiped his tears. He tore all the tears and words out, and yet it felt like it wasn’t enough. because it was never going to be for however long he loved you. It felt like there was more than just tears and incoherent sobs of pain to let out, yet he couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t figure anything out right now—not even you.

“You were right, love is the most twisted curse of all.”

a/n:

so this hurt. I cried in this one the most bc megumi is my FAV BOY IN JJK and writing this hurt me... i truly hated it :,). smh. megumi my boy ily and i will always choose you :(. hope you all enjoyed :,D

(I'm gonna need to start some wholesome series for myself to recover from this series or else this'll be my 13th reason AHAHAHA)

hope you all enjoyed, ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: !!! - ying ☆

succumed to the urges finally got spotify premium FUCK YOU I HATE SPOTIFY (sometimes) but id rather get premium and pay $13 than hear some guy asmr burping in my ears every two songs

gojo satoru was a very peculiar man, you told yourself. there could be any reason in the world why he would be acting this way, yet you dont even want to try to think about one anymore. 

who did you even have as a partner, a large overgrown cat?

you stare at him as he slumps on the couch, sighing a little too dramatically for it to be considered genuine. 

you roll your eyes as you try to ignore him, but his antics were getting unbearable now.

as he sighed out loud for the nth time, you finally spoke up.

“satoru, what do you want now?!” 

he looked at you with his pretty eyes before proclaiming “nothing much… just sulking…”

“sulking for what, satoru?” you reply, already annoyed because you knew it was for a petty reason.

gojo looked at you before turning away. “no, you wouldnt get it. i guess you cant get me at all anymore…” he says, dropping his head and continuing to slump on the couch.

jesus, what was wrong with him sometimes? 

“satoru gojo.” you call out, getting his attention.

“ooh, full government name. i wonder whats in store for me.” he deadpans.

“what is making you hate me right now?”

gojo scoffs, turning his head to the side and looking at the wall. “oh nothing, just surprised my sweet girl suddenly knows i exist.”

you blink at him once. what was he going on about?

he sighs dramatically again, before once again thumping down on the couch.

“in case you dont remember, someone forgot to say hi to me when she came home.” he says with indignation.

was that seriously it?!

“really, satoru?” you question, wondering if its real or not. well, judging by his character, you were pretty sure he got all worked up simply because you forgot to say that you arrived home.

this stupid, handsome man.

he doesnt respond at all, which confirms his reasoning.

you laugh a little. was this really it? you had hoped it was something as small as this, but there was always a chance you actually did something wrong. you never knew with gojo as your partner.

“look, baby im sorry i didnt greet you when i got home. what do you want now?”

gojo finally looks at you, eyes sparkling just a little. 

“only thing that’ll help are cuddles. right now.”

you start laughing hard as you tackle him on the couch, trying to win back your innocence. you smiled as you finally got an excuse to crush gojo, in all of his 6’2 glory.

“okay okay i forgive you!” gojo says, laughing in between his words. 

as you guys settle down, he laughs and kisses your cheek, pulling you closer to him. 

“you’ve been so busy with work lately,” he pouts, “it seems like i’m no longer your very first priority…”

“oh please, you’ll always be on top of my list.”

“you promise?” gojo asks, arms tightening around you.

“i promise.”

a/n: sorry for not posting in a long time, i don't even have a reason i spend too much time consuming media than producing it.

likes and reblogs appreciated <3

valentines with choso <3

wc: 1.5k (i yapped too hard)

cw: kms exaggeration/joke

Choso knew he liked you the moment you walked into class.

He knew he was in love with you the moment you sat beside him. Asked for his name. Got his number. All of that.

Seriously, when was the last time a girl he knew from no where asked him for stuff like this? And a pretty one at that?

He couldn’t help but have you in his mind from time to time. 

And you couldn’t either.

He was, objectively, cute. You loved his hairstyle instantly when you saw it. Spacebuns?! In a university class? Sign me up. 

You soon began loving more parts of him the more time you spent with him. The tattoo on the bridge of his nose? The rough eyebags? You hoped he didn’t catch you staring all the time, because holy this man was hot.

You were intrigued. You wanted to know more about him, so you talked to him.

Was it a talking stage? Or did he think of you guys as just friends? Is it normal to be enjoying someone’s company this much? 

You both had your own friends, and your own social circles. But as you and Choso grew closer, they slowly realized what was going on.

His friends were jealous that he got a girl before them, no matter how many times Choso tried to insist you guys weren’t dating. Your friends were ecstatic over the fact that you finally tried seeking a relationship, no matter how many times you said you guys were “just friends.”

But the teasing of your friends didn’t drive you guys apart. It didn’t make you guys be embarrassed to hang out with the other. It might of even made you like each other more.

So when the chill of fall slowly turned into the biting cold of winter, you found yourself coming over and hanging out at his place a lot, and the same vice versa. 

Watching movies, laughing together. On one occasion, you did Choso’s unique hairstyle for him and you put little stickers and hairclips on him. The picture of him in the cute little get up was secretly your home screen wallpaper. It was too cute, him wearing a scrunched up expression because of the tackiness of the accessories. 

Your friends say that you’re dumb as hell.

His friends say that he’s an idiot.

Just about anyone could see the romantic tension between you two, yet neither you nor Choso would admit it out loud to each other. Left to pine in “secret”. 

₊˚⊹♡

Soon enough, February 14th was getting a little too close, and you were panicking if you should ask Choso out.

That was basically a confession. And you didn’t want to make the first step. What if he thought of you guys as only friends? What if the teasing from his friends were just a joke? 

You spent a lot of the time in your day overthinking. Choso saw during the classes you had together, you always seemed preoccupied with something in your head, and never really looking at him directly in the eyes for more than a few seconds.

Now he was overthinking. Did you not like him anymore?

The class was spent with you two together in silence, staring into the polished wood of the desk, lost in your own thoughts.

Thursday, February 13th felt like you had the most pressure in your life. It felt more than just 4 assignments all due on the same day. It felt more than two tests back to back that you didn’t study for.

You decided that you were going to ask him out. You were going to be brave, say “Do you want to be my valentine?” on text, then power off your phone and bury yourself alive.

A great plan. Foolproof, maybe. 

But what would you do after? If he said yes, you didn’t even have any chocolates or teddy bears to give, and now you just seem like a total loser and a leech. 

But what if he said no? Now, you just lost a valuable friendship and someone who made going through each day just a little easier.

You flopped down onto your bed. It was so tiring, thinking and planning and worrying. 

Yes, you needed to think this through. But now, you should just go to sleep and be indecisive in the morning, and not late at night. That was way more doable than asking someone out.

Choso, on the other hand, was in the same predicament as you.

Same “What if?’s”, same “But’s ” were also plaguing Choso’s brain. But Choso was more prepared. He already had his chocolates, with the same brand you loved. He had his small plushie, which was your favorite animal. It was annoying to get them, as he needed to hide them from his peeking friends and, of course, you.

Yet, he had no plan on how to present them to you, and how to even ask you. Would he just go blunt? No, that will make it seem like he put zero effort into it and just wanted someone with him on Valentines Day. A long, heartfelt message would be too tacky, but it would certainly be romantic, only if you returned the feelings. It would be awfully embarrassing if you didn’t like him in the first place.

He covered his face in his hands. Seriously, why did it have to be so hard?

He should man up, for gods sake. Just ask you and get on with his day, whether or not you said no or yes. Rejection is something everybody should experience. 

But he couldn’t take rejection, especially not from you. He didn’t want to take the risk of losing the friendship that was so precious to both of you guys.

But he bought the chocolates. And he already liked you for about 5 months.

It was now or never.

₊˚⊹♡

Choso was about to kill himself. 

Sorry, exaggeration. He was about to bash his head against the wall.

He sent the text. Dear God, why did he send that? And why did he let it just stay? Why didn’t he just unsend it right away? 

Was it for the hopes that you would actually get to see it? 

Well, now it was too late to go back. The text message is forever engraved into the data of his phone and yours. 

Stupid, stupid text message. Did his fingers have to hit send?

It was supposed to be him practicing sending that. Type out the message, then delete it. Paraphrase his sentences before actually sending it. 

There was no possible way he sent a text message that looked that desperate.

Choso slouched onto his bed and groaned, throwing his phone across his desk.

It had already been 15 minutes. That dragged into another hour. Then two hours. Then it was almost midnight and you still haven’t even opened the message yet.

Choso was panicking internally. You would’ve checked your messages at least once during the four hours that had passed. 

Have you already read the message by looking at the notification? Were you so disgusted by the fact he asked you out that you completely neglected to respond?

His hands were in his hair, pulling at the shoulder-length strands. 

Seriously, how much of a dumbass did he have to be?

He couldn’t sleep much that night. He was half awake, overthinking and looking over to see if his phone screen had lit up. But it was always just a random notification, coming from an app Choso barely used anymore. He sighed and turned his phone off, spending the rest of the night not catching a wink of sleep.

₊˚⊹♡

Luckily for you, he asked first.

And luckily for him, you agreed.

You only saw his message in the morning of Valentines. Of course, you immediately replied yes, saving Choso from spending another sleepless hour after seeing his message get left on delivered.

The few seconds after replying to that message felt a little unreal. You collapsed onto your bed, unable to stop smiling. 

You did it.

You were going on a date with one of the best people you knew. The one you not-so silently chased all these months.

Life was perfect right now. You didn’t want anything to change, not after this one.

₊˚⊹♡

Six PM. Friday. 

To say you were excited wouldn’t be accurate.

Actually, it was more of a jittery nervousness. 

You wondered why, actually. Why were you nervous meeting up with a guy you were friends with for almost this whole year?

He opened the door before you could finish gathering your thoughts. 

You looked up. 

Perfect.

He was perfect, just like how you saw him your first class the day you met. Perfect, with his signature hairstyle, never once changing it. He looked the same as if this was just a regular hangout you guys had almost everyday.

As if it’s anything like that.

You greeted him nervously and stepped inside.

He returned the favor, looking just as bit as awkward as you felt. 

Shit, what if confessing to you made you guys as awkward as strangers now? 

But it didn’t.

The rest of the night went smoothly with him. The one you were half-chasing since the start of the school year. 

You couldn’t be anymore happier. 

And Choso couldn’t either.

a/n

happy valentines day guys!!

got lazy writing the last part

and it got way too long so i had to delete some parts of it

thx for reading sigmas!

dividers by @.enchanthings-a @.saradika-graphics