Dear Supporter,

- synopsis: gojo misses you :D

a/n: HHAHREHRAHRKJEHRKJER- oops. sorry, i meant hehe-

Seconds pass by, slower than the next as Gojo dully stares at the blackness of his blindfold.

For once, he was glad that the blindfold covered his eyes because if anyone, anyone saw what the blindfold was hiding-

he couldn't let that happen.

Your voice swirled around his head, like a hurricane.

Except in his mind.

Echoes upon echoes bounced off his mind like an endless pattern, of tears, of heartbreak, grief, of loss.....

and of you.

everything, everything he looked at, he touched, he smelled, he felt-

reminded him of you.

but at the same time, it didn't.

He remembered how you would say his name, how you laughed, but he couldn't remember what you looked like.

Just a hazy memory.

He fell, harder then he fell for you, down into the endless abyss of 'i couldn't save them.'

'i had so much left to say.'

But he couldn't say them, and the bitter taste of unspoken words fell upon his tongue, souring even the sweetest of candies.

Candy was a close enough taste of your lips, but it wasn't it.

Pooling up in his heavenly eyes, Gojo attempted to close his eyes, close off his feelings, and close off the thoughts of you, but tears still fell from the eyes that held his power.

His blindfold soaked the tears up, a comforting touch, a comforting replica of your touch when you brushed his tears away.

But your touch remained buried deep in the ground.

Engraved on a stone, covered in a bland, simple, grey.

Everything was such a simple word to him.

everything meant something priceless beyond repair, everything was a different word from forever, just a different meaning.

everything was you.

It didn't matter, because everything was gone.

All that was left, were fragments and shards of a broken heart, and an even more broken mind.

his everything was gone.

taglist: @no-b10g-here @anxious-chick @aleluvsuu @funky-writes @oneofthesevensins @ladywinterfell13 @kazhyloveslaw @dazaisms @cyb3r-c44t @princessluvz @notherenortherejustaway @okaydokeyyo @iheartamora @haloswrld @churipu @lysaray @olivianyx @desihopelessromantic @kiri1330 @scryarchives

h-hey folks!! hows your day going😇

thanks for the tag lotus ! so sorry im late <;/3

He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the way his stomach tied into knots. “It was nice to see you around, Sukuna,” Gojo grins, but it holds a dangerous glint. “But hey, it was fantastic seeing you again.” Sukuna rolled his eyes red eyes with a grumble, but he fell silent as Himiko eyed him as she passed, Gojo’s arm a bitter reminder that she’s not his – and he doesn’t have a chance at redemption; not like deserved one anyway.  As she passes, the speakers blare a song, almost as if fate was mocking him, heck he barely stood a chance the moment Gojo Satoru walked in with his arm around Himiko’s shoulders. Kali Uchis’ voice rings through the venue, the upbeat tempo a sickening reminder of his failures. ‘Why can’t you see you’re dead to me? Just leave it be, you’re dead to me.’

and that should be it!

no pressure tags - @cheriiyaya @rrairey @tinkerbelle05 @cindol @thomae + anyone who wants to join !

tyty for the tag, @emelkae!

rules: post the last seven sentences you've written, then tag seven people.

this was actually never supposed to see the light of day (didn't even make it out of my notes to a doc lmao) so no title for this

How long until he himself is slain in the name of peace across the nation and finally laid to rest in waters marred by his own blood and for once not that of others? Surely the blood should be gone by now. But he can feel it, splashing up to his shoulders. Pouring down his lungs. He is wading in it. How much blood is on his hands? Too much.

open tag ofc!! buuuut for the challenge rules i'm tagging: @perpetualcynicism, @minhxiao, @frankenjoly, @legend-of-cupcake, @thirdleaflogic, @cocrante, @airbluest

Heavys latest post was really bothering me so i fixed it. Left is original and right is mine

last song? — black friday - tom odell

favorite color? — purple!

last movie/show? — series - jujutsu kaisen, movie - maboroshi

currently watching? — jujutsu kaisen s2

sweet/spicy/savoury? — all. im asian, what do you expect? /j

relationship status? — happily single :)

current obsession? — yuuji & gojo. they tickle my brain in a good way.

the last thing i googled? — studio mappa 2023 anime film maroboshi (i butchered that completely btw)

thanks for the tag, rain! no pressure tags: @tinkerbelle05 @cheriiyaya @yunymphs @littlekidsteve @ladyth @starrfacee @thomae @cindol @kiszuster

9 people I would like to get to know better

thank you to @bellaramslover for the tag!

— — — — —

last song? - two headed mother by ethel cain

favourite colour? - dark green / sage green

last movie/tv show? - storm warning, 2007 (i do not recommend)

currently watching? - rewatching all the harry potter movies

sweet/spicy/savoury? - savoury (or sweet depends on my mood tbh)

relationship status? - long term relationship

current obsession? - hazel callahan/ruby cruz

last thing i googled? - (city i go to college in) weather

no pressure to the tags <3 :

@astroph1les @intotitties @seethesin @ieatstarsforaliving @mphountitled @heartshazel @ptolemaeacles @princesssmars @strawberryyivy

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀… feels like he'll blow any second.

which is funny because around him, young little girls scream with excitement and happiness. it's his baby girl's forth birthday today, and sukuna is more than happy to provide his pride and joy with all the light in the world. there are pink streamers and little girls in frilly princess dresses running around in princess crowns, and he's proud he even managed to pull this thing off.

how funny, you never imagined the king of curses throwing a barbie themed birthday party for his first daughter.

only there's one issue.

sukuna rubs his forehead, fingers dragging across the skin as he's met with a drowning sound of his phone ringing.

"god damn it, mortal, pick up." sukuna curses under his breath, two arms crossed while the third holds the phone and the forth scratches his forehead.

annelise and erika from barbie princess and the pauper were supposed to show up at 1pm, and it's now 1:10pm and no sight of the barbie princesses he requested. his hand tightens on his phone, and he tries to calm down— just so that he doesn’t send his baby girl’s birthday decorations aflame.

"fu—" sukuna curses, immediately silencing himself when he watches his daughter run over with pittering feet.

"dada!" his baby girl chirps, and sukuna's ear perks.

he looks down at his little girl with bright pink curls bouncing, plastic crown nearly too big for her little head.

"dada, why angry?" she giggles, and sukuna only chuckles.

"i'm not angry, princess. just takin' a phone call. how about we cut your cake in a little?" sukuna offers, gently pinching her cheek before she runs off to go burn her energy off in the castle bouncy house.

his baby girl can't tell when he's angry, but you certainly can. you laugh and stand by your husband, hand gently resting on his muscular back as he contemplates dialing the barbie princesses again and giving them a piece of his mind. sukuna didn't stay up memorizing all the barbie princess songs for this bullshit.

"hi, honey." you smile, and sukuna sighs softly.

"hello, love." the man replies, arms unraveling as he returns your side hug.

"what’s got you all down?" you ask, leaning against his chest.

sukuna sighs, of course you can see past him. your eyes trail from the pink ribbons, bright music playing, and girlish giggles coming from your daughter and her friends.

"these damn princesses won't pick up— i just want this thing to go perfectly." he expresses, and you giggle under your breath. "and god, i'm so exhausted."

"baby, you're doing just fine." you smile up at him, eyes glimmering in the warm sunlight. "you're a great dad... no— the best dad. and our baby loves you. she’ll love anything you do, princesses or not."

sukuna feels his lash line water, and he swallows hard— anger fading immediately as he looks over at his little princess.

he’s a good dad, he’s a good dad, he reminds himself.

"okay, fine. let’s cut the cake." sukuna sighs. "come on, everyone! let’s have starberry cake before the princesses arrive."

"strawberry, baby." you laugh softly.

"right. strawberry cake." sukuna chuckles as the little kindergarteners gather at the cake table. he’s still learning too.

he focuses on the good in the moment, bulky hand nearly snapping the plastic knife from his strength. he hands the cake out, four arms helping him easily. without him knowing, you watch as the barbie princesses finally come around the corner, elaborate, glittering dresses shimmering.

you take a slice from him, watching as your daughter chomps the sugary dessert down within seconds.

birthday parties are definitely chaotic and take lots of energy— you'll find your husband fast asleep on the sofa later, but for now, things are perfect.

he’s the king of curses, and also a father in this life.

© YUNYMPHS 2024 modifications, reposts, and translations of any kind are strictly prohibited.

⇢ ˗ˏˋƧΛM [ 18, genderfluid, SEA ]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ dreamer, infp, into many, many fandoms & simps for fictional characters (sue me)

likes ! ☼ anything with my favourite hyperfixations/kins, angst & fluff, doodles, one-shots, writing canon x oc, talking with my mutuals, talking about my hyperfixations and long convos! i love compliments and feedback on my works is always encouraged. feel free to reach out cuz id love to chat!

dislikes ! ☼ negative comments, overall negative vibes, mosquitoes, loud noises and busy-bodies.

my favourite shows and movies ! ☼ the owl house (toh), metal family, jujutsu kaisen (jjk), fionna and cake, dr. strange, guardians of the galaxy vol. 3, blue beetle, avatar, avatar: the way of water, encanto, the greatest showman, sherlock, httyd, howl's moving castle (or anything studio ghibli) !

my kins ! ☼ [ jjk ] itadori yuuji, [ toh ] hunter, amity, luz, [ metal family ] glam, dee, [ mcu ] america chavez, rocket raccoon, [ avatar ] neteyam & lo'ak sully, [ dcu ] jaime reyes, [ adventure time ] simon petrikov, fionna campbell

dni if you(‘re) ➼ dislike canon x oc. homophobic, transphobic, or racist. a pedophile, xenophobe, islamophobe. dislike the content i create. this blog is a safe space for all.

before you follow ➼ currently, i have a lot of time on my hands but updates will be slow (i get burned out too, now and then). please keep in mind that any form of hate speech will not be tolerated! you will be blocked and reported if so.

bear in mind that ➼ english is my first language, but i’m still learning and growing. as mentioned before, constructive criticism is welcome! i write for canon x oc, both platonic and romantic. if you aren’t comfortable with that content, you are welcome to leave (i mean this in the nicest way possible!).

id so badly want to be the child of these two, and to cope, a new oc of mine shall ✨exist✨

i am truly in a rambling mood, im so sorry for the spam T_T

how to (properly) make tomato soup | gojo satoru

.. it’s three pm, you’re sick, and satoru takes it upon himself to take care of you (except there’s one problem: he does not possess any shred of culinary ability whatsoever).

content: 1.7k words, no explicit gender mention but pet names like angel and baby are used, gojo being silly while geto is absolutely done w his bullshit, reader has a migraine, mainly a self indulgent comfort/crack fic

when you feel the pounding in your ears again, tears start to form in your eyes. fuck, you just can’t help it.

you’re tired. so tired of the constant headaches–the migraines that plague your days and make staying awake completely unbearable.

the familiar ache settles in, but you can tell that this time, it’s much worse than usual. the nauseating pressure that can be described as thousands of needles pricking the back of your eyes, the blinding light in the room that’s assaulting your vision, the overwhelming sounds around you that are so intense to the point where you want to do nothing but cry.

so… that’s exactly what you do.

you succumb to the pain, letting out a choked sob that arguably just makes everything worse. tears slowly make their way down your cheeks, and you put your head in your hands to simultaneously muffle your cries and shield yourself from the light around you. you want to turn off the light. your head screams at you to turn off the light, but you’re so dizzy that you can barely even move.

“y/n?”

-

the first call of your name barely registers amidst the ringing in your ears. you hear it when your name is said a second time, though, and you feel yourself coming back to your surroundings.

he’s… here.

your boyfriend, satoru. yeah, he’s here.

head still buried in your hands, you carefully move one of your fingers to peek at him. he’s crouched down in front of you, a look of concern on his face. he’s saying something…

“where does it hurt, baby?” you’re still so stunned that you can’t find the strength in you to speak. so you close your eyes and point to the area where it hurts the most, sniffling. “is it okay if i massage that area, angel?”

throughout the midst of all your pain and tears, your heart manages to swell. it swells for satoru, because he’s here–he’s present, and he cares about you.

you manage out a small nod, eyes still shut. you let out a shaky breath—a breath that you just found out you were holding, since everything hurt so much that you forgot to breathe.

satoru massages your temples gently, even making an effort to softly wipe the tears off of your face. he feels your forehead with the back of his hand and frowns at your temperature. you’re starting to burn up. “s more than a headache, baby. i’m gonna take you to the bed, okay?”

this was going to be a long afternoon.

he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and gently places you on the mattress. he turns off the lights and draws the blinds shut, providing a welcome respite from the sensory assault just moments ago. you exhale a sigh of relief, slowly opening your eyes as you wipe the dried tears off your face. he climbs into the bed with you, and you instinctively cling to him for support as you wrap your arms around his neck. it hurts. everything hurts, but satoru’s presence makes it slightly more bearable. “my poor angel. have you been overworking yourself lately?”

you bury your face in his neck, finding comfort in being close to your boyfriend. he presses a feather-light kiss on your forehead, and it makes you want to cry again. “maybe. the headaches are getting worse.”

“you should take it easier on yourself. i can’t have you cryin’ like this. not on my watch,” he remarks, making sure to keep his voice low as not to overwhelm you. “y’know, if your migraines were a person, i’d make sure to hollow purple ‘em. no hesitation.”

a soft laugh escapes you, but you regret it almost immediately as it just intensifies the pain. he lets out an apology, but you just huff.

you close your eyes again, exhaustion taking over as your eyelids grow heavier. satoru slowly releases himself from your vice grip, much to your chagrin. you try and weakly protest, but he just shushes you gently. “just go to sleep, baby. i’ll be right back, okay? when was the last time you ate?”

“hm… i remember having a little bit of breakfast when i woke up-”

“alright.” he says, making a mental note that he should make food. “i’m going to go make you something, okay? i promise i’ll be back soon.”

“...don’t burn down the kitchen, please.”

“i can’t promise that, though.”

-

“you found the soup packet? okay, finally. now you just turn on the stove…”

satoru’s a little embarrassed to say that he doesn’t know how to cook.

growing up, he’s had practically everything served to him on a silver platter, so he never had to worry about making his own food. and frankly, despite your statement earlier being a joke, he is genuinely afraid to burn the house down. so, he has his best friend suguru on a video call right now, teaching him–gojo satoru, a twenty-eight-year-old man–how to make instant soup.

“the stove?”

“yeah…? don’t tell me you don’t know-”

“-no, no. i know how to turn the stove on. of course i do.” it feels like he’s trying to convince himself more than suguru. the camera shows satoru in his kitchen, sweating profusely and glaring at the stove like it’s his biggest enemy. satoru has fought countless curses in his life, has had near-death experiences multiple times, and even faced the king of curses himself, but he thinks that everything pales in comparison to this task. he tries to turn the knob, but it won’t budge. “what the hell?-“

“satoru-” it seems like the azure-eyed man doesn’t hear him as he keeps trying to turn on the stove (suguru swears he hears him muttering the phrase “with this treasure i summon”, but that’s not even his technique). he can’t help but facepalm for the hundredth time during the duration of this call. “satoru!”

he finally gets his attention, and satoru looks at his phone and sees geto with a look that screams “are you fucking kidding me?”—or really, just a look of utter disappointment. “you’re turning the stove the wrong way.”

“...”

he turns the knob the opposite way, and the burner sets ablaze instantly.

“oh, yeah… um, i definitely knew that.”

“satoru, how do you survive whenever you’re not on a mission?”

“sometimes i think about that too, really. i think it’s because y/n is the one who always cooks.”

“you think i can’t tell already?”

-

much to both of their surprise, satoru managed to make a pot of tomato soup. it only took him approximately forty-five minutes. satoru seems so proud of himself, meanwhile suguru looks so ready to block his number and never talk to him again.

he pours some of the soup into a bowl, and places it on a tray. he also takes a few painkillers from the medicine cabinet–along with a bottle of water. he thanks suguru for helping him, and is about to hang up but stops short when his best friend freezes. “wait, hold on. did you turn off the stove?”

and after making suguru swear on his life to never speak of this event to you and airing out the house to get rid of the smell of smoke, gojo satoru, “the strongest”, thinks he’s the first ever man to somehow burn a pot full of soup.

“it’s an impressive feat, really.” he claims.

suguru just says that he should never be allowed near a kitchen ever again, and satoru actually finds it in himself to silently agree.

-

an hour has passed, and he sets the tray on the nightstand, relieved that the past hour of his life is finally over, never wanting to do that ever again. you’re sleeping soundly on the bed, and he almost doesn’t have the heart to wake you up, but he knows that you have to eat something. he turns the nightlight on and gently taps you on the shoulder as you wake up with a stir. “toru? s’that you?”

“it’s me. can you wake up for me, baby? i promise you can sleep again after, but you need to eat.” when you slowly sit up from your sleeping position, he places the tray on your lap and softly coaxes you to eat. you take a spoonful of soup into your mouth, relishing in the flavor as you’re just now realizing how hungry you are.

“this is good,” you say, letting out a smile. the nap helped you come back to your senses a little, and you can finally breathe a little easy now that the pounding in your head has eased. “didn’t know you could make this.”

“yeah, well, you better savor it.” cause i’m never making that again.

when you finish the soup, you swallow a few painkillers while taking a greedy gulp of water from the bottle on the tray.

just in case the pain comes back, you think. though you really, really wish that it wouldn’t.

satoru sets the tray on the nightstand, and you settle back into the covers, wanting to just sleep the rest of the day away. satoru follows not long after, turning off the nightlight and letting out a yawn.

you bury your face in his neck once more, kissing him on the cheek. “thank you, for um—for all of this.”

“s nothing. just promise that you won’t overwork yourself again, okay?” he says, carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“i’ll try not to.”

“hey, you can’t say just that. you have to say, ‘i promise not to overwork myself again, toru. i love you, and thank you for the tomato soup.’” he says while poorly imitating your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.

“okay, okay. i promise not to overwork myself again, love. i love you so, so much.” you say while peppering kisses all over his face, and he’s so glad that the lights are off so that you’re unable to see how his cheeks are beet red. “thank you for taking care of me… and for the soup. it was good.”

and as your eyelids begin to grow heavy once more, satoru thinks that his efforts aren’t in vain after all. because the sight of you, finding comfort in his presence, stirs a little bit of determination from within him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d take it upon himself to learn how to properly cook, not just (partially burnt) instant soup, but a real meal for the next time that you’re feeling like this.

and as he watches your chest rise up and down as you sleep, he can’t help but whisper, “yeah. next time, i’ll make you more than just soup. i’ll cook something special, just for you. ‘nd i won’t burn the pot again, either.”

because for you, satoru would do anything as long as he gets to see you happy. and part of that includes learning how to (properly) make tomato soup… and more.

They're besties, your honor.

my art masterlist ✧ where i doodle my ocs + favourite characters !

metal family

sketches: — natasya solovyova completed works: — natasya solovyova

adventure time

sketches: — doodle dump 1 , the lich

blue beetle 2023

sketches: — drea tlatilpa canon & oc: — drea & jaime

avatar: the way of water

sketches: — näytle te iviu oa'ite