MY SHAYLAAA - Blog Posts

C!NIKI NIHACHU!!!

(her match patch has been embroidered by tommy ofc)

drawn cause @dsmp-lainey loves her and i needed an idea what to draw ^^

✩ "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 ☆

I really wish we could save him :(

I'm making a fanfic about saving him and it's barely done lmao

Also my player design!! Grumpy old man I love him so much

Give Gempa headcanons 👀

Muahahaa...😈

Okay, first of all-- Sentient Elements. Let's put that out here first. Now it's time for headcanons.

1) Absolute mommy, and while he'll complain about having to take care of everyone like they're kids-- He'll feel useless and pushed aside if he didn't have to anymore.

This is more of a headcanon in a fanfic series of mine BUT-- 2) Gempa somehow always know when Boboiboy is in any distress or pain, whether physically, mentally, emotionally. (MOMMY INSTINCTS, GUYS. HEAR. ME. OUT.)

3) Gempa low-key loves Boboiboy as if he were Gempa's kid. Like-- HEAR ME OUT-- Gempa and the other Elements know it's useless to get attached to Users, they all lived shortly, compared to the Elements' immortality. And one day while they were split, Boboiboy started spouting Science and Space facts, rambling and ranting, the absolute spitting image of 'Erhm, acktually-!' in the comfort of his equal cringe and brainrotted friends and Gempa went through all the stages of grief only to come to the horrifying realization that is now his child.

4) Gempa is mischievous. Not equal to TTM, no. But a few pranks here and there. He can't help but find it funny, especially when everyone points fingers at the TTM since; 'Gempa wouldn't do something so childish!'

5) Holds grudges. He will, and absolutely remember the times you've wronged him. Which brings me to the next headcanon--

6) Will pick a fight with Fang any chance he gets. Through snarky or snide remarks with a sinister smile. Those two cannot be trusted to be alone together. Fang fights back too, and Solar had to be the mediator between them once during a mission. The only time Solar ever truly felt how tiring it was to deal with people who acted like toddlers. He suddenly was much more kinder to Gempa after it.

7) Other than with the other Elements and Boboiboy-- Gempa actually hangs out with Yaya sometimes. They just happened to click (Gossip was also involved). He was once invited to a sleepover with Yaya and Ying where they spent the night talking, gossiping, doing skincare and face masks, gossiping, baking, gossiping-- Did I mention gossiping?

8) Gempa is really traumatized. Like-- Really traumatized. He acts like he isn't affected but he's one of the most affected ones actually. Survivor's guilt, PTSD, you name it, he probably has it. Not that he'll seek help from anyone, no. He's the Earth Element. Unbreakable. And he won't shake. Not even as his walls and foundations crumbled, chipped, cracked-- The very thing holding him up fading away as time wore it down.

Ahhh, that's all I remember honestly. I've made headcanons over the years, some very fleeting, only lasting for a quick daydreaming session. Thanks for the Ask! I love rambling so much:3

is this anything

His Spring — Geto Suguru x Reader

It shouldn’t have happened, not really, not at all—not then.

Careful; he should’ve been careful, and alert. For now he sat in the corner of the room, in a part he didn’t want to be at—with people he didn’t know, wearing clothes he watched to tear apart and let his body breathe—but all on top of that, stood you.

“Wanna join me in this party tonight?” Glossed lips and bashful grin—it didn’t take much, or any persuasion for that matter for him agree. Now, he wasn’t sure why he agreed, or if he did at all and you just assumed his dazed nod, something very natural he’s gotten along doing you, to be a yes.

So now he sat alone in the corner, eyes drafting to every movement of yours, your hips swung— left, right,left —he’d been observing you for a while now, anyone observing him would deem him a stalker at this point.

“What is your type in women?” The question rang in his mind again—something, weirdly enough that had been bouncing back into his mind every few days—his type? He’d wondered then, not really sure.

But he knew now, one look at you and he knew what his type was. One look at you and your silly graphic t-shirt of some anime and he knew his favourite fandom; one look at your converse and he knew his next expenditure; one look at your hair and he knew his hands were perfect to braid them; one look at you and he knew, he knew, he wanted to wait.

Wait everything out—in midst of all that was happening, in the midst of a tragedy his eyes had spotted you. Trained themselves to even see you as he slept.

To where his mind once questioned his existence, he now lay wondering if you liked poppies better of roses. To where he once questioned running away, he now knew he’d run away to you. He could run away to you.

Suguru used to feel he was nothing but a sad, lonely, tired winter, trudging along until the better Spring came about—until the spring made people forget of him- until the winter was no more.

Wrong.

But then again, could you blame him at all? In those black sweatshirts and black pants he’d assumed he’d find himself dead- in that cold shivering winter he thought he’d end—in that gloom, he thought, he wouldn’t continue any longer, he couldn’t. He didn’t know, right? He didn’t know, didn’t want to know, if he could at all live to see another Spring.

When he saw you, the question wasn’t to catch a spring or no, but the fact that he managed to and he considered you his achievement, the most prized one. He could sit and deny it to himself, as he’d tried initially but no, he ached for you. Day and night, he ached for you.

So pitifully wrong he knew he was back then, as your form approached him, a grin on your face, “C’mere,” you’d shouted over the music—so wrong he was.

For while you pulled him closer on the dance floor, of a party he disliked, he clung onto you- his dark hair ruffling to your shoulders too—for just then he knew that you were his Spring. You made him forget about his lonely, tired winter, you made him breathe. As you wrapped your hands around his neck and danced close to him, nothing romantic and yet he wouldn’t complain because Suguru lived every moment spent, had it been around you, basking in your Spring.

And as he held you close, supporting himself with you, knowing you loved it too, he smiled.

—

“What’s your favourite colour?” You’d asked with a grin, brows raised and a chart in your hand, “We’re gonna paint your house that colour!”

He’d smiled, and before he could say anything at all, “Wait let me guess,” you chimed in quickly, “Yellow? The light kind,” a smile adored your lips, a squeal bursting to escape and it did too as he nodded with a chuckle.

Your arms found themselves wrapped around him, “I know you so well,” you’d laughed and stared into his eyes—he stared in to yours, knowing all too well that until the word ‘yellow’ had escaped your lips, he was sure he hadn’t known that colour properly at all. And now that you’d said ‘yellow’ he knew he’d fallen in love with a colour too—a colour of life, he’d smiled.

But the truth lay all too bare for until you had said the word ‘yellow’ Suguru hadn’t found his favourite colour at all.

Taglist: @illogicallyx @immurrsed @rizzmin @abitoldschool @bbytamaki

“Good thing that I’m forgiving”

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