I Like Yuta Taking Over Gojos Corpse Or Whatever But It Wouldve Been Really Cool If Gojos Corpse Was

“I’m expecting great things from you”

ten habits to adopt for a beautiful life 💭

+ curated shopping: rather than over-consume in fast fashion and trends, buy fewer, high-quality items. frequent vintage shops, boutiques, or markets where you can find unique, timeless pieces.

+ focus on wellness and exercise: consider activities that are beneficial for the body and calming for the mind, such as yoga, pilates, or long walks in nature. choose activities that allow you to connect with your surroundings and maintain balance.

+ mindful eating: prioritise healthy, whole foods and cooking meals from scratch. organic produce, artisanal products, and perhaps even locally sourced ingredients could be staples in your kitchen. eating is a mindful practice, enjoyed at a leisurely pace.

+ cultural engagement: regularly visit museums, art galleries, and theatres, or participate in cultural events that inspire and enrich their creative spirit. value learning and exposure to the arts as a way to keep life vibrant and intellectually stimulating.

+ reading and continuous learning: develop a well-curated collection of books, including classic literature, philosophy, and art, and dedicate time regularly to reading and reflecting on what you've learned.

+ minimalist technology approach: stay up-to-date with necessary technology, but maintain a minimalist approach to its use. limit screen time, avoid social media distractions, and instead prioritise face-to-face interactions or hands-on activities.

+ intentional socialising: carefully cultivate your social life, with a focus on deep, meaningful connections rather than frequent, casual interactions. you likely enjoy hosting intimate gatherings at home, where you can experience conversation, ambiance, and connection.

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER TWENTY: love me anyway

masterlist

The sheets beneath her stir as the first light of day seeps through the thin, worn curtains, casting an almost mournful glow across the room. The sun’s touch is gentle, but it’s a reminder of another morning, another routine she knows all too well.

This feels familiar. Too familiar.

She has lived this moment countless times—each one an echo of the last, a rhythm of anticipation and careful avoidance. She knows the weight of the silence, the delicate pause before she turns over. 

And when she does, she meets his eyes.

Those green eyes. 

They’re always the same. The way they linger on her, taking in every curve, every freckle, every scar that marks her—his gaze tracing the map of her body like it’s something sacred, something precious. She feels bare, exposed, but there’s a strange comfort in it, a quiet surrender. 

His hand, gentle, almost reverent, reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture is simple, yet it shakes her in a way she can’t quite explain. Her breath catches as if bracing for something she’s not quite ready to face, as if she knows, deep down, that whatever happens next will hurt. 

"Morning," he whispers, his voice thick with the weight of unspoken things.

She smiles, but it’s not the smile of someone who’s truly at peace. It’s the smile of someone who knows the cost of each word, of every touch.

“Morning.”

The sheets are pulled tighter against her bare skin, the softness a fragile comfort in the quiet, uncertain space between them.

For a fleeting moment, the room softens, bathed in the muted orange light of early morning. The world outside fades away—the ticking clock, the distant hum of life beyond the walls—all of it dissolves, leaving only them. Two people in one bed. Not quite lovers. Not quite strangers. Something undefined. Something fragile and yet impossibly real.

“I want to be with you, Yn,” his words break the stillness, and though they’re spoken with the sincerity of someone who has nothing left to hide, they land heavy between them.

The light in the room seems to dim, as if the weight of his confession has cast a shadow over everything. The ticking of the clock grows louder, more intrusive, and she feels the rhythm of time moving against her, as if reminding her that this moment—like all the others—will soon pass.

“I’m just… not ready, Megs,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart heavy with the truth of the words. She can feel the sting of them as they leave her mouth—words she never wanted to speak, yet always knew she would. 

He winces, like her words are a wound. The nickname hangs in the air between them, a reminder of all the things they’ve never said. It’s a name that feels too close to something they both fear. 

“We can take it slow,” he says, his voice almost desperate now, like a plea disguised as an offer. 

She doesn’t respond immediately. She opens her mouth, but the words don’t come. Her mind is spinning, caught between what she wants and what she knows she can’t have. Before she can find the clarity, she needs, the bedroom door swings open, and the familiar sound of footsteps interrupts the fragile moment.

“Woahhhh, clothes, please,” Nobara’s voice rings out, laced with her usual irreverence, as she strides into the room, her eyes already covering her face in mock horror as she heads straight for the closet.

“Nobara, it’s literally my room,” Yn mutters, her voice thick with exhaustion.

“Okay, damn, whatever happened to being civil,” Nobara replies, as if she couldn’t care less, already rummaging through the clothes in the closet.

Yn sighs, shaking her head, and despite herself, a reluctant smile plays at the corner of her lips. The moment between her and him slips away, as it always does, swallowed up by the noise, the chaos, the distractions of life. And in that silence, she’s left wondering if the real truth is the one she’s always too afraid to face.

"Oh breakfast is ready by the way," she says, as she finishes up with whatever she was fishing out the closet. She pauses for a moment and lets out a sigh, her eyes flicking toward the door. "I’m just... relieved you two worked it out. I can’t stand the thought of her going back to Sukuna again." She shoots them a smile before she shuts it behind her with a firm, deliberate click.

A thick, suffocating tension settles over the room, hanging in the air like smoke. The weight of unspoken words presses down on both of them, and suddenly, that familiar, uneasy feeling claws its way back—not just in her stomach this time, but in his as well. It coils in their chests, binding them together in an uncomfortable silence.

“What does she mean, again?” His voice is distant, almost hollow, as he stares at her. There’s a blankness in his eyes, but she can see the storm brewing beneath the surface.

She pauses, the words swirling in her mind, but they refuse to form. 

“You slept with your ex?” The question falls from his lips with an unsettling calmness, as though he’s already resigned to the pain it causes.

“...Well... yeah,” she admits, her fingers instinctively scratching the back of her neck. It’s a nervous gesture, one she wishes she could take back, but it’s too late now.

“We were never exactly... together,” she tries to explain, as if offering that detail might somehow make it less of a betrayal. 

But he doesn’t seem to care about the details. His face hardens, eyes narrowing as the words sink in. “But what happens when we are?” he demands, his voice tight with something between anger and hurt.

"What happens when it’s real?"

Her throat tightens, her heart pounding in her chest. She doesn’t have an answer. She’s never had an answer. 

He doesn’t wait for her to speak. The words come fast, like an accusation she’s too afraid to answer. “Are you gonna go back to him every time we argue?”

The question hits her like a blow, the weight of it settling deep in her bones. 

It hurts.

She’s always prided herself on being tough, on keeping the hard things from breaking her. But this—his voice, sharp and cold—cuts deeper than she’s ready for. It finds the cracks in her walls and tears them open. For the first time, she feels exposed. Vulnerable. And it makes her want to run, to flee from this moment before it can consume her.

She swallows, trying to steady herself. “And what about you?” she counters, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. “What are you gonna do? Humiliate me in front of all your thousands of fans? Air out all our business for everyone to see?” 

Her words come out harsh, a bitter retaliation, but they feel like the only defence she has left. She’s trying to protect herself, trying to lash out before he can wound her any further.

But as soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes how pointless it all is. In the heat of the moment, they’ve both become something they never wanted to be—two people fighting, two people unravelling. And the deeper they dig in their heels, the further apart they’ll fall. 

She doesn’t know if either of them has the strength to put it all back together.

“That’s not the point, Yn.” His voice is low, edged with frustration, as he stands up from the bed. His movements are deliberate, almost stiff, as he gathers his clothes from the floor. Every motion is a careful retreat, a silent act of distancing himself from the words they both know are about to tear them apart.

Yn watches him, her chest tightening, her patience wearing thin. “Oh, then tell me, Megumi. What’s the point?” Her tone is laced with venom now, each word dripping with sarcasm as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Go on, I’m waiting. Enlighten me.”

He stumbles slightly as he tries to pull his pants back on, his fingers trembling just enough to betray the calm exterior he’s trying to hold on to. When he finally turns to face her, his eyes are hard, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability beneath the anger—an ache he can’t mask.

“It’s the fact that you keep doing the same shit over and over again,” he says, his voice thick with frustration. He rubs his temples with his right hand, fingers digging into his skin as if trying to erase the pain building inside him. “It’s like I’m invisible until it’s convenient for you.”

Yn feels the sting of his words, but it’s not enough to make her back down. She’s already out of bed, a shirt hastily thrown over her, unsure if it’s her own or his. It doesn’t matter. She could be wearing nothing at all, and it wouldn’t change the suffocating weight of this conversation.

“Megumi, what the fuck are you even saying?” Her voice wavers between anger and hurt, each word a shard of glass she’s trying to throw back at him. “Last night, you said you’d wait forever if that’s what it took. And now? Now you’ve ‘slept on it,’ and suddenly you’ve had some sort of fucking epiphany? Everything’s changed?” She scoffs bitterly, shaking her head. “Unbelievable.”

He flinches, but he doesn’t back down. “No. What’s unbelievable is you thinking that leading me on is just some checkbox to tick off in your mind,” he says, his voice rough. “Like I’m some fucking game you can pick up and put down when it suits you.”

The accusation hangs in the air, thick with all the things they’ve both left unsaid. The silence between them pulses with tension, the weight of their words pulling them further apart. 

“Just because we do relationship things doesn’t mean we’re actually in a relationship, Megumi,” she snaps, her voice low but sharp, her hands clenched at her sides. The words feel empty as soon as they leave her mouth, but she forces herself to stand tall, even as her heart cracks.

He shakes his head, his jaw clenched tight. “And that’s your problem, Yn. You won’t let it be real. You won’t put a label on it because you’re scared. You’re terrified of what happens when it actually matters.”

She feels the sting of his words like a slap, but her pride won’t let her show it. “I’m scared?” She laughs bitterly, a hollow sound that rings out in the silence of the room. “Who’s the one practically begging for a relationship in my fucking bedroom right now?”

The moment stretches out, heavy and charged with everything they’ve both kept inside. For the first time, Megumi is silent. His mouth moves, but no words come. They stand there, across the bed from each other, like two people lost in a storm, too proud to admit they’re both drowning.

Then, finally, he sighs—a long, weary sound that seems to carry all the weight of last night. 

“If I told you I loved you right now,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “would you say the same?”

Yn’s heart stops for a beat, and for a moment, she can’t breathe. The question hangs in the air, as fragile and raw as anything either of them has ever said. Her chest tightens, and her throat constricts, but the words she needs to say—want to say—don’t come. She opens her mouth, but nothing escapes. The silence between them stretches, unbearable and all-encompassing.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he mutters, his eyes downcast as he collects the last of his things. The finality in his movements feels like a wall being built, the space between them suddenly too wide to bridge.

And then, without another word, he walks out. The sound of his footstep’s fades, leaving nothing behind but the echoes of a conversation that was never meant to be this way.

Yn stands in the quiet aftermath, her body frozen, her mind racing. The weight of his words lingers in the stillness, thick and suffocating. She wants to scream, wants to ask him to come back, to say it wasn’t real, that this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

But the room feels emptier now. And the silence between them feels like a wound that neither of them knows how to heal.

In the end, there are no answers. Only unanswered questions and heart breaking in ways she doesn’t know how to fix.

Make that two.

—

“Oh my god… so he actually put the condoms on the register right in front of you?” The blue-haired girl laughed, nearly tipping out of her chair from how hard she was giggling.

“Yeah… haha,” Yn replied, the laughter sounding forced, hollow in her ears. She hoped Miwa didn’t notice the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes, or how the pit in her stomach seemed to deepen with every passing second. The tension was unbearable. 

Miwa, still oblivious, laughed louder, her carefree amusement filling the space between them. She had no idea that Yn was carrying something far heavier than a simple awkward moment. That she hadn’t told her about the morning after. 

The words were still so vivid in Yn’s mind, like a photograph she couldn’t look away from:

“If I told you I love you, would you say the same?”

They kept playing on a loop, unbidden, repeating with an intensity that only seemed to grow with time. Each time they hit; it was like a small shard of glass piercing her heart all over again. 

The sound of Miwa’s laughter slowly faded as she caught her breath, the moment stretching long and tense. Yn could feel her pulse in her ears, the weight of her regret thickening the air around her.

The song she’d been playing on air was ending, and before Miwa could notice the change in her, Yn hit the controls in front of her, quickly unmuting the mic, almost mechanically.

“And that was Crush by Ethel Cain, up next is Love Me Anyway by Chappell Roan!” she announced, her voice smooth despite the storm brewing inside her.

The opening notes of the song filled the air, but the lyrics hit her harder than any sound could.

As the first notes of the new song filtered through the speakers, Yn could feel each word like an arrow lodged in her chest. The lyrics, so raw, so painfully accurate, seemed to speak to her very soul.

“Sometimes I forget, wasn’t always this way…”

“It’s hard to admit, I was the one to blame…”

She wanted to turn the song off, and shut it out, but she couldn’t. The truth was unbearable, but it was also undeniable. She knew what she’d done. She knew how much it had cost her. Megumi had loved her. Not in some fleeting, casual way, but in a way that she had never experienced before. He had been real with her. Vulnerable. And she had let him go. 

The weight of that mistake pressed on her like a physical force. Her chest tightened, the pain so raw, so real, it felt like she might choke on it. She could have fought for him. She could have tried harder. But instead, she’d walked away, choosing fear over something real.

The thought felt like a physical blow, one that stole her breath for a moment, leaving her feeling hollow and ashamed. She had let him slip through her fingers, let him walk away because she wasn’t brave enough to let herself love him the way he had loved her.

She hadn’t just lost him. She’d lost her chance at something that could have been everything. And now, all she could do was replay the moment, over and over, until it felt like she might break under the weight of it.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself, the word tasting bitter in her mouth. 

I fucked up. I fucked up so badly.

extras!

• megumi definitely has something undiagnosed about him….

• bpd??? autism?? ocd??? speculate your theories in the comments NOW

• oomf said 500 days of summer coded and i RAN with it

• the party girls def heard them from the kitchen and they were just silently staring at eachother while ynmegumi were arguing LMFAOOO

• when they heard yn’s door open they quickly became occupied with something else hashtag awkies

• megumi got back home mad as hell

• no he did not punch the walls.

• he instead turned on ribs in the fetal position on his bed and listened to it on loop for 3 hours (tzc☃️)

• yuji was on tiktok live and u could just hear it in the background very faintly

• yk i had forgetting about the whole maneater station until a certain oomf starting with r and ending in ee rhymes with pee commented about it.

• Thank You Ree💕💝💘💗💖💞

• i missed miwayn hours BAD

a/n: i don’t know which was worse. writing this or the after effects of consuming expired laxatives. maybe both… HAPPY SJAP WEEKEND! sorry it’s a bit later than usual but we ball. sunday AND monday posts coming still🙂‍↕️ im not bailing on you guys again. i’ve been drained af. and i think im getting sick again. and i have to be up in 4 hours. everyone comment hashtag grateful so i can wake up and not want to kill myself❤️

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

Woah lost media

jjk manga spoilers!!

megumi doesn’t like to look at himself.

to be fair, he didn’t have much confidence to begin with but now that his face is disfigured by jagged scars, he has less than what he started with.

his hair doesn’t have the same megumi charm to it anymore. you clocked the change almost instantly.

megumi lets his hair grow out a little more than usual, the once messy tufts of hair now fanning loosely over his face.

over his scars.

he doesn’t talk to you about it, you know deep down he never will.

it takes a lot of convincing for megumi to talk about anything and after everything that happened, you doubt you’ll ever hear him talk about it out loud.

but you know him.

you’ve been with megumi for almost a year, friends with him for longer, you know he has a lot on his mind that he doesn’t know how to express.

he says it without saying it when he crawls into bed with you late at night, sneaking into your dorm without you even waking up.

and when he bumps his shoulder and thigh with yours when you eat together.

and when he pretends he doesn’t see you looking at him when the two of you study in his dorm.

you know he’s become insecure of the pink scars on his face, he’s subconsciously hiding them with his hair and he doesn’t look at you the way he used to, as if he’s ashamed of himself.

but you’re not ashamed of him, you could never be.

to you, he’s the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen.

your fingers trace along the ridged texture of the skin along his cheek, your touch so gentle and light as to not wake him.

it’s the only time megumi’s face is free of torment. when he’s resting beside you with his hands wrapped around your waist, his face tucked into the nape of your neck.

megumi is stirred from sleep when your thumb traces over his eyelid, tickling his lashes.

his eyes open only slightly, steely blue eyes finding yours for the first time in weeks.

his breath hitches in his throat, his hand instinctively covering his scarred cheek.

but your hand is already there under his, cradling his face like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“why’re you awake?”

“was just looking at you.”

megumi feels his face heat at your words and how you look at him with such adoration.

you move some of his hair out of his face before you lean in to press a kiss to the scar over his eyelid, then the one along his cheekbone.

megumi may hate his scars. but they’re part of him.

and you could never hate him.

summer with megumi (megumi fushiguro x reader)

notes: did this super quick, thank you for all the love on my last post, really i am beyond grateful!! requests r open :3

tags: sfw, fluff, established relationship, very very fluffy, just cuteness, nonsorcerer au

summer with megumi feels like cotton clinging to your skin because he insists on cuddling despite the heat wave. a thin layer of sweat glues your shirt to you, just as megumi has glued himself to your backside. you’d already swapped the duvet out for a light blanket, which has still been kicked halfway off the bed. “i’m dying, megumi,” you huff.

“i’m fixing the AC tomorrow, the fan’s on and the window’s open. it’s out of my hands…” he mutters into the back of your hair.

“let up for one night?” you plead and push your body forward, but the forearm snaking around your waist holding you to him doesn't budge. you feel his weight shift behind you, and for a second you think he might spare you from his body heat. instead, he reaches over to the comically small fan, switching it to a higher setting before reassuming his position right behind you.

“better?”

you accept your fate and lean back into him, knowing this is a fight you’ll never win. “night, honey.” he whispers. his tolerance for sleeping sweaty is stronger than his tolerance for sleeping without cuddling you.

summer with megumi looks like a living claude monet painting. he walks in front of you and gently holds your hand across the small wooden arch bridge. it whines under the weight of the two of you. you peer over the thin railing to look at the water underneath, reflecting the filtered rays of sun and sparkling like diamonds. “watch your step,” he says as you reach the landing. you’re too busy admiring the water lilies and lush greenery that you don’t immediately notice the picnic he’s set out in a shaded area under a weeping willow. he places a light hand on the small of your back to get your attention. you whip your head back and forth in disbelief between your boyfriend and the date he’d methodically planned. he gives you an amused smile. “go on, i’m right behind you.”

you spend the afternoon snacking on the light picnic spread he prepared in the gaps between quiet conversation. the only sound other than your voices is an occasional birdsong and the constant rustling of breeze-shaken leaves. he lays in your lap with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling with his breathing… has he fallen asleep? after a long, quiet moment, you’re sure he has and you take the chance to press a kiss between his eyebrows. “thank you, megumi…”

summer with megumi sounds like juna by clairo. easy, dulcet melodies that play in blown out speakers at the beach. they sound like waves crashing on the shore, mixed with the clean plunk! of a volleyball being hit around by you and your friends. megumi observes your game as the scorekeeper. his white linen is open with a few buttons undone at the top, letting the sun hit his sharp collarbones and his upper chest. “i can’t see the ball with the sun in my eye,” you both know he’s lying, he would rather just watch you after the first couple rounds. you manage to coax megumi to at least dip his feet into the water.

“what did i get you those swim trunks for?” you ask rhetorically. “humor me, please.” you go back and forth for a few moments and he pretends like he can refuse you when you look so pretty like this. he doesn’t actually mind going in the water, he’d do anything at your request. he just wished it were just the two of you, so he could be as affectionate as he wanted without holding back.

he shoves his balled up fists into his pockets and waddles over awkwardly to where the ocean meets the sand. within a few minutes, you already regret asking him to get in. the air is filled with your sharp cries and laughter as he swipes water at you relentlessly.

summer with megumi tastes like one of everything at the food stalls in the carnival that comes into town every summer. he holds your bag on his shoulder as you practically dart from booth to booth. a long afternoon of waiting on line for rickety rollercoasters had built up quite the appetite for you, and everything just smelled so good. megumi decided you shouldn’t have to choose and passed a handful of cash to you quietly. “get me something small too.”

it makes him happy to make you happy. after making sure you ate to your heart’s content, there was only one last thing he wanted to do before heading home for the night.

the sun had just disappeared below the horizon as your ferris wheel cage approached the highest point of the ride. the lights of the carnival below you were warm and dazzling. you squeeze megumi’s hand as the cage rounds the top of the long arch. “thank you for such a great day, megumi,” you breathed, holding his arm close to your chest and resting your cheek on his shoulder. he looked at you with adoration swelling in his eyes. you meet his eyes with heightened awareness of how close your face is to his. he wastes no time and brazenly presses his lips to yours with a little more force than you were expecting. he tastes the residual sweetness of cotton candy on your mouth and laughs into the kiss. “thank you too,” he cooed lightly.

[ID: Two digital sketches. The left is a messy sketch of a tall person dancing with a child whose feet are on the adult's. They're both smiling widely. The right is Megumi glaring and pointing their finger at the viewer while saying "My dad could kill your dad in a fight and then adopt you and your sister when your mom never comes home" and is labeled "kid who doesn't quite understand the 'my dad can beat up your dad' game" /End ID]

I stopped my homework zen mode to draw this

Guess who caught up in the manga

when theyre so incredibly meant for each other any other ship with them is just wrong

he doesn’t know why by fleet foxes is about stsg by the way