Reezer's Reeblogs ｡𖦹°‧ - Blog Posts

THANK YOU I HATE THIS GUY WITH ALL OF MY HEART

do you think he deserves to burn

yes

akaashi couldn’t be nonchalant as people made him out to be.

NOTE. Inspired by @/nethsukii’s post from TikTok!

Everyone always assumed Akaashi was the most level-headed person in the room, nonchalant in some cases, the calm voice amongst the chaos, the unshakeable setter with cool eyes and a brain that always operated two steps ahead.

That reputation didn’t change when he got a girlfriend—it intensified. People whispered about how lucky you were to have someone so composed, thoughtful, emotionally intelligent, and stable. A boyfriend who wouldn’t raise his voice, who’d remember anniversaries without being reminded, who’d bring you tea when you had cramps, and listen to you vent without interrupting.

And okay—yes. Two of those things were completely true.

But the “nonchalant” part? That one was a bit misleading.

Because if you asked Bokuto, or Konoha, or literally any of Akaashi’s closer friends, they’d tell you: he’s anything but nonchalant when it comes to you. Sure, he looks calm, but beneath that is a man whose brain short-circuits when you so much as bat your eyelashes at him thrice rather than twice. He’s an intense romantic disguised as a stoic intellectual. And the intensity isn’t dramatic or grand—it’s absurdly, endearingly specific.

“Did you know you sneeze in three stages?”

You blinked, pausing mid-bite of your grilled cheese sandwich. “What?”

Akaashi, seated across from you at his kitchen counter, wore his usual composed expression. His glasses slid a bit down his nose, but he didn’t push them up. He was too focused on you. “Three stages,” he repeated. “You do this little build-up thing first—your eyebrows scrunch, your nose wiggles like a bunny, and then you hold your breath for a second. That’s stage one.”

You stared at him with an expression of genuine confusion. “You studied my sneeze?”

“I observe,” he corrected smoothly, reaching for his cup of tea like this was just another normal afternoon conversation and not borderline concerning.

“Stage two is the sneeze itself. It’s never dainty. It’s loud. Forceful. Passionate.”

“That’s a weird adjective.”

“Am I wrong?” he asked, not missing a beat.

“Yes?” You looked down at your sandwich. “I… don’t know how to properly respond to that.”

Akaashi gave the faintest smile, his eyes flickering with mischief. “Stage three is the little sigh you do afterward. Like you just survived a great war. Then you sniff once and pretend it didn’t just shake the room.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, “but it’s endearing. You sneeze like a bazooka. It’s adorable.”

“No one’s ever called a bazooka adorable.”

“I’m a trailblazer,” he said matter-of-factly.

-

There were his journal entries—yes, journal entries—about you. You found one once by accident, tucked between a book of poetry and a volleyball strategy book. He didn’t write about major milestones like one might expect. No, you found out your boyfriend documented the way your nose crinkled when you lied, or how your left hand twitches a little when you were anxious.

There was an entire paragraph dedicated to the way you wrapped your scarf, how it was “disarmingly efficient, yet always crooked to the left, like her heart’s trying to lean on someone without asking.”

Who says that?

Akaashi Keiji, apparently.

He once paused mid-sentence in a phone call with Bokuto because you, half-asleep and grumpy, had mumbled something unintelligible from the other room (you had come over for a project and fell asleep after lunch). “She sounds like a disgruntled possum when she’s waking up,” he said dreamily. “It’s charming.”

...

“Akaashi. You okay?”

“More than okay.”

-

Akaashi even adjusted his wardrobe—not that he admitted it. You mentioned once, half-joking, that he looked really good in dark green, and suddenly half of his winter clothes were moss, olive, or emerald. You caught on when he started showing up with sleeves rolled halfway up because you once muttered something about liking the veins in his arms.

“Yum,” you murmur, squeezing his triceps before bursting into a fit of laughter after realizing how embarrassing you’re acting.

But you learned long ago that there was never such a thing as too embarrassing when Akaashi acted the same, if not to a greater degree. He wasn’t nonchalant. Not even close. He was... silly.

A helpless romantic who never made grand proclamations or public gestures but instead memorized the oddest, most mundane things about you like it was part of some sacred text.

And yet, he wasn’t clingy nor weird to the point of you being uncomfortable. He knows your boundaries well. He wasn’t overbearing or overly expressive. He just noticed. Quietly, constantly, lovingly. He didn’t tell you he loved you every day in words, but he knew the way you curled your pinky when you drank from your mug.

He knew you got cold at 3 a.m. even in the summer and always made sure a blanket was within reach. He noticed when you rewatched the same ten-minute section of your favorite show because you liked the background music.

He remembered the exact number of sugars you took in your coffee and the fact that your favorite mug was slightly chipped, but you used it anyway because it was a gift from your cousin. He once stopped mid-sentence while talking to Bokuto on the phone just to say, “She’s humming the Sailor Moon theme in the shower again,” with a fondness so full it made Bokuto gag.

Man, he was whole-body deep into loving you.

-

How Akaashi often spends a lot of time thinking about things that weren’t even that serious.

Like how, that one time, you laughed at someone else’s joke for a few seconds longer than how he’d normally get from you. He doesn’t even get jealous when someone’s flirting with you because he knows—you know—and you’re both trusting of one another.

But to hear you laugh for 1.7 seconds longer?

You might as well give up now, because this man is persistent.

“Are you seriously keeping time now?” you asked, laughing at his behavior.

“Yes, my dad raised me to be competitive.”

“Don’t bring him into this, Keiji,” you laughed.

He looked at you as if you hung the moon and individually painted the stars in the beautiful night sky itself. “You’re very pretty,” he says. “I think I might experience a heart attack.”

You hugged him so hard you nearly knocked his glasses off.

-

When you painted your nails—usually some soft pastel or neutral tone—he would watch intently, chin in his hand like an art critic evaluating a masterpiece. At first, you thought he was just being polite (to try and appear interested, since guys don’t usually find interest in these sorts of things), but when you noticed the way he always commented on the color and style like it was a whole personality trait, you realized it wasn’t an act.

“Oh, that shade of sage green,” he murmured once. “It makes your fingers look like they’ve been kissed by a forest spirit.”

“What does that even mean?” You laughed.

He blinked, entirely serious. “It’s a compliment.”

“Keiji, I told you. If you’re going through something, you tell me—not just like—act this way.” As a joke, of course.

He laughed too.

Eventually, Akaashi started doing them for you. It began as a fleeting thought—you had been painting your left hand with your non-dominant one, struggling to keep it clean, when he silently plucked the brush from you and started painting with delicate strokes.

“You’re going to mess it up,” you warned.

“I have steady hands,” he said with all the gravitas of a surgeon. “We did this in Home Economics, remember?”

“...Yeah.”

From then on, it became a quiet ritual. You’d sit in his lap or next to him on the bed while he carefully painted your nails (he prefers the first one but isn’t shameless enough to tell you most of the time), brows furrowed in concentration, tongue sometimes poking out as he focused too hard. And every time he picked a color, it came with an elaborate reason.

“This one reminds me of the sky right after it rains in early spring. Soft, muted, but a little hopeful.”

You’d pretend to roll your eyes, but your heart would always flutter. Because you won the boyfriend lottery with him.

Akaashi was just built like that. When you two cooked together, he’d narrate what you were doing like it was a documentary on divine beings. “And now, the goddess stirs the pot, bestowing warmth and nourishment unto mankind.”

“Stop it,” you giggled, flicking water at him. “Don’t narrate it like that. You’re making it sound like a case study.”

“But it’s fun,” he says with a smile.

“You’re so weird.”

“I’m so in love with you.”

And he truly is.

And you believe him.

Akaashi wasn’t nonchalant. He was soft-spoken, yes. Composed, yes. But behind that calm exterior was a boy with a mind full of your quirks and a heart that was overflowing with enough love to swallow you whole. And somehow, that made you feel even more lucky than you already were.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

✩ "I would get killed by your hands just to see you live." .:｡✧*.｡✰───

summary: he loved you so much he allowed you to let him go.

contents: jjk as angst tropes series: choso kamo, choso x f!reader, established relationship, not canon so no spoilers cz i realized its called fanFICTION so i can create whatever i want, forbidden romance, choso dies cz of reader, fluff at the beginning, angst cz who wouldve guessed, also written badly

word count: ≈1.9k

The moon generously illuminated the darkness of the abandoned building. It was just like the way you knew it. You memorized every curve of it, how the light would hit each spot, the way the debris stacked on top of each other–and where you would see him standing there, waiting for you. 

It started when you two both approached each other, thinking you guys were the same species. He thought you were a curse, and you thought he was a sorcerer. It caused you two to share the struggles you both had, and unbeknownst to both of you, it was similar struggles. It caused mutual pining that you both could only entertain.

You both found out when you first met him in your jujutsu uniform, and he saw the badge that you had. It was a shocking sight to see, but Choso had gently held your hand, calming you down once you found out he was a curse.

Now, you were meeting up with him secretly once again.

“Hello,” you giggled, your shoulders rising up and failing to keep your bubbly attitude hidden. You took your hat off, bringing your mask under your chin.

“Hello, darling,” he walked up to you, his eyes glued to your face. Stepping in front of you, he brought his free hand up to your face and tucked a hair behind your ear. “You look… as beautiful as last time,”

A sound of laughter bubbled up your throat, leaning into his hand. Choso held your hand, guiding you to the usual spot you guys would sit in that faced the moonlight. Ever since finding out about the opportunity of meeting you secretly, Choso had cleaned up a spot that the moonlight focused on, adding a carpet there and occasionally, candles. It was a spot where you two could lean against the wall, cuddling each other and forgetting the world really existed.

“A movie?” Choso asked softly.

“Yeah! I watched one with a friend today!”

Choso laughed, watching as you used your whole body to reenact the scenes and the story–he thought it was enchanting

“You think… we could watch a movie someday?” he asked sincerely, his gaze on you.

You sighed, squeezing his hand softly and leaning back onto him. “...Someday, Choso.” “You think that day will come?” He whispered, his tone vulnerable.

“One day, Choso. I’ll take you everywhere–the park, the mall, amusement parks–oh! We could go to festivals! Tokyo holds them all the time,” you chuckled, hoping to shift his mood into a more cheerful one. Your smile only got wider when you saw his cheeks rising at the grin painted across his face.

“And our wedding?” He teased, bringing your hand up and kissing the back of it.

“I already have plans,” you nuzzled your nose against his, a second of silence passing before you guys erupted in laughter.

It was an endearing sight. You two laughing at each other's shenanigans, acting like you were two highschoolers on a date–nothing else mattered.

Time eventually caught up, and it was time to leave. 

“Next week, same time?” He asked, his voice hopeful even though he already knew your answer.

“Always.”

~~~

“You want me to… what?”

Yaga raised an eyebrow at your question, putting his clipboard down and looking at you.

“We can’t afford to keep any Cursed Womb alive. Choso Kamo is a liability, and for all we know, he could be getting even stronger as we speak.”

Clenching your fists, your chest rose up and down in an uneven pattern, and sweat was prickling at the sides of your head.

“But the others are dead? How powerful is Choso alone–,”

“His powers are much stronger due to his cursed energy. There’s no doubt that he’d be giving you guys a hard time on your missions, and we aren’t going to risk it.” His answer was so certain, so sure that you shook. You shook, because none of it was sinking in. Every atom of your body denied it–Choso dying? Because of you?

Yaga noticed your silence, and he sighed. Grabbing his clipboard again and standing up, he spoke.

“If you think the mission’s too much for you, then I can assign it to another student.”

Your head snapped up at him. No–no one else could kill him. No one else should kill Choso–Choso shouldn’t even be killed! Choso was human–you know it. You’d know all of it. How he made you feel more human than the jujutsu society ever had, that he’d shared your feelings and troubles and love and affection–

But, if you didn’t take it, then someone else would. If you didn’t kill him, he’d die anyway. If he didn’t die by your hands… someone’s bound to give him a painful death. Someone else is going to cause him harm in his last moments. And you’d miss it all.

The thought of it made your head throb. Your pulse raced enough for you to hear it in your ears. You were anxious about him getting hurt–being shown no mercy before his death when it was all he deserved. Mercy. 

“I… I’ll take it.”

This way, you can ensure he has a quick, painless death.

Yaga hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Very well then, the deadline is next week.”

~~~

This mission was easy. Physically. And you hated it. You hated it because it was as easy as depending on your love for each other to meet with him and only take advantage of it. You came here early this time, wanting to be the first one to see Choso… and the last time you would.

“Hey,” he arrived, beaming. And the sight hurt. Tonight, you had to carry his blood. A rope in your chest tightened, and your breath staggered.

“I… got you something. You like roses, right?” He revealed a rose from behind his back, holding it out to you both proudly and timidly.

Your eyes went wide. The crimson rose would soon be the color spreading throughout Choso’s fabric, because of you. Taking the rose felt like a lie. Rejecting it would betray you. Choso always did small and cute things like this. For you.

Choso noticed your intense gaze at the rose, as if you’d just seen something you shouldn’t have. Your uncharacteristic mannerisms–hands shaking, frozen in spot, completely mute–it worried him.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re not usually this quiet… Did you have a rough mission?”

A rough mission? You almost scoffed, but when he brought his hand up to your cheek, you hesitated. For a split second, you almost recoiled, backed away. The gentleness of his touch would hurt too much right now. You didn’t mean to, but when your gaze flickered up to Choso’s, his anguished expression only increased your regret. 

Choso noticed the weight on your shoulders. He noticed that there was pressure on you, and you couldn’t fight against it. He knew there was something you had to say, or something you had to do… and he knew you couldn’t tell him it. With the way a lump in your throat was forming and causing you to stay silent, he speaks.

“If… there’s anything you need to say or do, do it right now, my love.”

His sweet words combined with his tender actions–it broke you. Tears finally started flooding out, and your voice hiccupped quietly in your throat. Your hesitation said everything–you were shaking, crying–you silently begged him to say something different.

But he was steady. Calm. Almost too calm. Because how could he, who was absolutely ignorant about the situation, not knowing that you were about to end his life, still be so kind as he pulled you into a hug that you so desperately needed? Choso was giving you space to choose–no, space to do it. And you knew you had to, because if you didn’t, it’d end up much worse for him. 

“Don’t–no, please–I can’t, Choso–,” you begged the world.

“My love,” he says firmly, not wavering from his point. “I trust you.”

And it felt like your breaking point. It felt like everything inside you snapped–your heart, your tears–and your muscles moved without thought.

Before you knew it, your weapon was buried deep inside of Choso’s stomach. Blood emanated from where the knife was hidden, and Choso collapsed onto you.

“No!” You caught him, his blood slowly dripping from his clothes down to your hands.

The way his eyes went wide broke your heart, and even with your sudden betrayal he was still holding onto you for dear life. How could you? How could you?

Choso still somehow found the courage to chuckle even at a time like this, while blood was dripping from the corners of his lips. “This… wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“No, no! Choso!” You brought him to your chest, begging the universe to go back in time–you’d refuse the mission, refuse to end Choso and run away with him instead–so why’d that only occur now? When he was slowly losing life right in front of you?

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” your tears mixed with the blood that was staining his clothes, yet the knife was still in him. Your betrayal was still in him. And it slowly spilled throughout his body–yet his love was still greater.

‘Hey, hey, my love. Listen to me–,”

“No, I’m so sorry–I shouldn’t have done this–I should’ve just–,”

“Y/N.”

You opened your eyes and looked at him through tears. How was he comforting you? When you ended his life? He had dreams, struggles, passions, and someone he loved.

“Yes…?” You whispered, your eyes closing the moment his hand gently brushed your cheek.

“Don’t let them paint you the monster, my love,” he smiled–the one you loved. “I know you chose to save me one last time. I would’ve chosen you out of everyone else to be the one to end me.”

But you were a monster. But you were someone who deserves nothing of his gentle love. Someone who was deemed a murderer–yet all he gave in his last moments was gentle love.

“I love you, my love,” he smiled. “Say it back one last time, yeah?”

You tried your best to scoff, trying to match his eerily lighthearted mood as you kissed his forehead. “I love you too, Choso.”

The two of you closed your eyes, pressing your foreheads together–in hopes for you to give him the life he deserves and the one you don’t. When you felt his hand slip from your cheek, you quickly caught it and tried to savour the last bits of warmth in it, convincing yourself he was just unconscious. You felt the smear of cold blood from the wind–only to remind you that it was his blood.

You were broken. You felt nothing but misery. The air you were breathing, the eyes that you were using to cry tears you felt like you didn’t deserve to let out, how your muscles contracted as you sobbed–it should’ve belonged to Choso. The Choso who never had the chance to live out any of his dreams. The Choso who never had the privileges you had growing up–it should’ve belonged to him. Not you. You felt like you should’ve been the one to take the dagger instead, and even then–you’d still paint yourself the monster. Because now, that’s all you saw of yourself.

a/n

oookay i kNOWWW this was kinda fast paced but i try my best to keep this series under 2k words sooooo it kinda ended up that way... i wish i couldve expanded more on this but oh! well! too! bad! (sobbing) ANYWAYS thisssss lowkey hurt me–i dealt with what felt like ages and ages of writers block and had to force this out of my system and somehow was able to produce something decently satisfying in the end soooo i hope i broke yall :)

(imma be honest w yall tho the original ending was to make the reader end herself in the end too but i thought maybe that’s too much…)

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

✩ "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 ☆

don't be mad

Happy Valentine’s Day!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

new kid! fushiguro megumi who....

new kid! fushiguro megumi who knew that he wasn’t sure what to make of this place yet, wasn't truly sure about his new life that was begnning for him as he leaves the old one behind. that was just too honest of him.

the new house was bigger than their last one, lived-in but unfamiliar. his new room smelled like fresh paint, and his small stash of belongings were still packed away in unopened boxes. this was his new life now. this new arrangement.

his elder sister tsumiki had reassured him before she left for college. told him gojo satoru would watch over him. told him he wouldn’t be alone. that there were great kids in the neighborhood, people he could get along with.

at least, that’s what gojo said. but megumi wasn’t sure he wanted to meet them, or get to know them just yet. he was still on the fence about it, just as with everything in his life. just as with everything else that could ever come. but perhaps, he’d just have to wait and see.

new kid! fushiguro megumi wasn’t sure how the story of it all even started. somehow, he was certain that there was that quiet pull, the subtle gravity that drew him toward the space just beyond the creaky wooden fence separating his world from yours.

somehow, it was a cosmic demand. it was somehow a certain destiny being aligned by the stars. something that megumi had thought maybe only possible in movies.

and yet, as much as it was destiny, it was also his own choice. he sat there, enjoying the sun in the solitude and made that choice, that move to turn his head, and find the world beyond him grow into the words that make up the word, 'you'.

new kid! fushiguro megumi found himself watching you from afar, all of a sudden. but of course, in a proper way. in a respectful way. definitely not in a way that felt intrusive, but as if trying to understand something just beyond his reach.

he knew better than that. he knew better than to cause someone to feel uncomfortable. he didn’t want to make people around him feel rough about it. and so he was trying, he was trying to look away. he gulped. he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t look away from you.

new kid! fushiguro megumi thinks that maybe it’s the way you carried yourself with a serene grace, one that he’d never seen from anyone in his entire life before. one that he found himself admiring every little dawn of day he could see you from afar.

megumi didn’t expect you to notice him first. but you did, you happily did. but he thinks that it was easy, especially with those heavy rumbling footsteps against the mossy grass. it was loud enough, he supposed. and you noticed, you found him, like destiny wanted.

“you’re staring at me.” you said one afternoon, voice gentle but teasing. you weren’t facing him, but somehow, you still knew.

megumi stiffened, ears burning. “i—i’m not.”

you tilted your head slightly, as if listening. “you are.”

megumi suddenly felt very, very out of his depth. “sorry.” he muttered, turning away. but then he heard you laugh—soft, light, like wind chimes in the breeze.

“it’s okay, don't worry.” you said, voice carrying over the fence. “i stare too, sometimes. well, even if it's just dark. it's still something that exists in this world.”

megumi blinked, confused. you lifted a hand, fingers brushing over the petals of a flower beside you. “i like to feel things. it helps me see them.”

oh. he thinks to himself as his throat tightens.

new kid! fushiguro megumi felt something in his chest shift in that moment. before he could think too hard about it, he reached over the fence, plucking a small blossom from a low-hanging branch. he hesitated only for a second before extending it toward you.

“here.” megumi says to you in response.

you took it without hesitation, fingertips grazing his knuckles as you traced the delicate petals. “this one feels nice.”

fushiguro megumi swallowed. “yeah?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “you have a good eye. for things like this, huh?"

".....yeah, i guess so."

you hummed, almost to happily. "you're already so interesting, new kid. i look forward to you in the future too."

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who never considered himself particularly thoughtful, started noticing things. and it had made him just as bitter, just as angry. and just as eager, to do more for you.

he noticed how the world wasn’t always built for you. how uneven pavement made you slow your steps, how certain things were placed just out of reach, how people spoke to you like you were delicate, like you might break if they weren’t careful.

and he hated it. he could feel it burning in his chest, that anguish. almost like a fever that could just as easily burn everything in its path as he looked at you, still smiling.

how can you smile like that? he asks himself in the quiet. how can you still be so good to the world, when it makes you feel so alone?

new kid! fushiguro megumi clenched his fists so tightly, it turned brutishly red. he couldn't let this pass. he won't. this is isn't what you deserved. you deserved so much more. you deserved the very best. no, no. you deserved the world. you deserved to have it at the palm of your hands.

megumi wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him. but it did. it mattered to him that you were comfortable. it mattered to him that you had all that could make your life as normal as possible. so you could live with a smile in your face, a true one.

he started small, he started from where he could. when he noticed a branch hanging too low on your usual path, he snapped it off without a word. when the neighborhood kids left their bikes scattered across the sidewalk, he quietly moved them aside before you walked by.

when the bakery down the street rearranged their display cases, he mumbled a quiet, awkward explanation so you wouldn’t have to fumble around. or when he found books, he worked hard to try and make sure he reads it for you, every little word, even if his voice was hoarse from it.

new kid! fushiguro megumi thinks that there was nothing special about it. he was only doing what he should. moving things out of your way, describing things when it seemed like you wanted to know, standing beside you when the world got too loud. it wasn’t extraordinary. it wasn’t something to be praised.

it was just normal. just expected. that’s why he never said anything about it. never drew attention to it. never expected you to notice. but you did. it was ever so easy to notice. you were blind, that’s certain. but you were no fool.

you noticed how the world seemed a little easier when he was around. how the things that once stood in your way disappeared before you could even reach them. how he always stood just close enough, just within reach, but never too close—never forcing, never assuming, just there.

you noticed how his voice, though often hesitant, carried a quiet kind of care when he spoke to you. how his words, though awkward and sometimes clumsy, were always meant to bring you closer to the world he saw.

“you move things, don't you?” you said that sunny afternoon, your tone unreadable. "i can feel it, you know."

megumi froze. “i don’t—”

you smiled knowingly. “you do.”

"you take care of things, don't you?" you murmured, fingers trailing over the petals of a flower he had left for you on the fence. "quietly. carefully."

megumi, who had been standing on the other side, stiffened. "i don’t—"

you smiled, tilting your head slightly. "you do."

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who had never been good at taking credit, looked away, scowling. he found his face as red as the scarlet sunset behind you both. he purses his lips in a flat line.

megumi thinks about how much of his life had been spent making himself feel so insignificantly small in that quiet, unobtrusive prison he had made for himself, a prison he shouldn't even be in.

almost all the sudden, megumi thinks that he felt seen in a way that made his heart stumble. in a way he doesn't think he ever thought he could ever deserve in this life. he doesn't think he's a good person.

and yet, here you were, smiling at him and telling him that he was a good person. that he was someone you appreciated. that he was someone you were thankful for, someone you cherished.

"you don’t have to....and yet....." you paused for a moment. "somehow, you do anyway."

his fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. he didn’t know what to say to that. so he just mumbled, "don't think too much of it."

but you reached out, fingertips brushing over the rough wood of the fence, stopping just short of his. you shake your head at him. "it is too much. it is everything, megumi-chan."

“it’s not a big deal.” he grumbles under his breath. "anyone could have done that. you know that."

but you reached out, fingers brushing against his wrist before he could tuck his hands into his pockets. he felt his breath hitch as he found himself closer to you. it was as though this moment was the first time he'd ever found himself understanding what the word spring truly means when your touch was against his own.

“it is to me.” you whispered back to him. a small smile sweeping your tender lips. "it is a big deal. because it's you.....so thank you, megumi-chan. thank you for being good to me."

he grew even redder, flustered at your tenderness. he rubs the back of his head, feeling his heart pound. "you give people too much credit! you're too nice. how are you this nice?"

you giggled at him. "but arent't you nice too?"

"am not!" he murmured under his breath, still ever so red.

"ah, you're pretty red, aren't you?"

"shut up!"

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who never cared for praise, found that your words sat warm in his chest long after you’d gone. there was that thought that maybe spring could last forever, whenever you smiled at him.

there was a thought that his day would feel complete because you were there to tell him that you were thankful that he came into your life to help him through it all, even the little things.

he never thought that your words would pull at his heartstrings in this way, playing his heart into a symphony that could only be built in the benevolent heart of someone like you. and so, he found himself addicted to the sound of his heart beating, leaping over and over again.

perhaps that is what it was, some sort of calling. this new kid on the block without purpose, found one. that was to stay by your side no matter come what may. because nothing was more addictive to him, than this feeling.

these overwhelming feelings that drown him in this eternal sea, each and every single time. he knew that, almost too certainly. and there was no escape. and he knew deep down, he didn't want to escape it. not when you smile like that. not when you smile at him, smile because of him.

new kid! fushiguro megumi started describing things more, in his own awkward way. with great detail. he knew he wasn't as good as most people in describing things. or being passionate about it out loud. but you seemed to enjoy it very much. you were smiling through it all.

“the sky looks kinda weird today. all gray, like someone smudged the clouds.” he’d say a bit dryly. or, in some rare warm whispers, “the cherry blossoms are blooming. they look like—uh, you know, pink and fluffy.”

"is it really?" you gasped, almsot too excitedly at some points. "oh, megumi-chan! what's the shape of the clouds? oh, oh! how about the birds in the sky? are they as graceful as how the documentaries say?"

he knew that wasn’t great with words, but you never seemed to mind. if anything, it made you seem contented in the warmth of spending time together, even if the words don't echo them exactly.

because if one was asking the correct things, this would be the question: what is the right words, the perfect words, when every action already blossomed the warm kindness the sun could never gift you? that's what you asked him.

and he wasn't sure at all, if he had any answer for you. instead, he lets his hand brush carefully against your own, his green-blues not leaving your misty ones. you found your lips curving into the brightest of smiles, teeth and all. megumi thinks that these smiles are the very best. these were the ones he cherishes most when you were together.

"you're good to me, megumi-chan. thank you."

"you're good to me too." he whispers under his breath, red appearing agianst his cheeks. ".....i hope you know that."

you giggled. "hm, hm. i know."

new kid! fushiguro megumi wasn’t sure when it started. when did it turly start; these feelings that were too loud for him to ignore. these rhythmic symphonies his heart composes when he sees your face, at peace under a willow tree.

maybe it was the first time you held his hand without hesitation, trusting him without question. or maybe it was the way you always seemed to know when he was nearby, even when he hadn’t said a word. he doesn't know how it all begun.

but all he knew was that he had these feelings. he had these smiles on his lips. he had these red cheeks blossoming hot. he had you, by his side letting them repeat over and over again.

new kid! fushiguro megumi who had spent almost all of his life keeping the world, the people, life itself at arm’s length slowly finds himself realizing that he was letting you in those impenetrable walls without even a single cost. he has let go without a fight.

but how could he do such a thing, when he has too much desire to keep you by his side like this? how could he find himself hidden away from you in these strong holds when he wanted for you to feel the warmth in his tone, the kindness in his touch?

it was easy to notice it in the small things, how he had utterly surrendered to you. how he started looking for you first whenever he stepped outside. how he’d listen for your voice over the hum of the neighborhood. how the air around you always felt a little lighter, a little warmer.

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who had always been good at avoiding emotions, was starting to realize—he was falling in love. so utterly, miserably, happily, undoubtly, ever so certainly in love and it was with you. always you. it was never going to stop being you.

that spring afternoon, that youthful spring that belonged only to the two of you. it was ever so beautiful. he couldn't explain it. was the tree beautiful because you were under it, or were you beautiful because you were the apple of his eyes?

when he found you sitting in your blossoming garden, your fingers lightly skimming over the open pages of the book. your fingers gently brushed itself against the tactile echoes all across the pages, the words forming through those elegant bridges of braille recognizable from where he stood.

“you don’t have to read in braille, you know.” he said, standing just beyond the fence. “i could read to you.”

you tilted your head toward him, smiling softly. “you would?”

he shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yeah. if you wanted.”

“hmm, i guess.” you hummed, considering. “but do you even like reading out loud?”

he looked away. “not really. not stuff like this, at least."

you laughed, quiet and knowing. “but you’d do it anyway?”

he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “...yeah.”

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who wasn’t good at saying things outright, suddenly felt very obvious. he felt like he didn't know who this person was, being so bold as to stand before you and be so ever brave.

he could see that well hidden mirth in your glassy eyes, ever so happy to just be there with him this way. even if you couldn't see everything, you were so good at knowing the wondrous picture forming before you. you could read him, even if you couldn't see him. and he knew that too well.

you grinned at him. soon enough, you only patted the empty space beside you. “then come sit with me.”

and just like that, he did.

he always will, you know that.

that's how he perhaps, loves you.

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who never cared for the thought of happy ever after, or whatever those fairy tales say, found himself reading them to you with such uncharted passion anyway.

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who never needed the warmth of many people, found himself wanting to stay by your side. hoping for the immortality of that joy that comes from being together.

new kid! fushiguro megumi, who wasn’t sure when it started, knew one thing for certain now— he was already yours. and he doesn't care for how it ends, or how it becomes. his dream, his truest dream, was to remain by your side, smiling under the beckoning sunrise.

oh em gee

tysm for the tag reya!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

tags: @irwinchester + anyone else!!

self moodboard

search up on pinterest : lyrics, color, character, place, outfit, and aesthetic.

no pressure tags — @gojosoups @kasukuna @angi-of-avalon @baepsays @itadoriest @lostfracturess @norikuna @toadtoru @yenayaps @neovillains + anyone who wants to join in!

thank you so much for the tag. i love you.

tagging: anyone who'd like to join!

what color is your aura?

no pressure tags: @thekinslayed @connorsui @sarahsangelicdoll @rafeysbangs @angelspitxx @wicked-barbie @deadonyouraccount @rafescorpsebride

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.”

CHOSO KAMO MENTIOOONNEEEDE !!???

cops and robbers | choso x reader

for the @phantasmaebg event!!!

wc: 792

the city buzzed with energy as you slinked through the shadows, the sharp scent of rain clinging to the air. the museum was quieter than usual, almost eerie, the soft hum of the security system the only sound accompanying you. the painting you were after glinted just ahead, a priceless masterpiece practically begging to be stolen.

you’d done this countless times before. in and out, no complications.

but tonight was different.

tonight, he was here.

“y’know,” a low, smooth voice drawled behind you, sending a shiver down your spine. “for someone who prides themselves on being invisible, you’re pretty predictable.”

you turned, your heart skipping as choso kamo stepped out of the shadows, his dark eyes locked onto you with an intensity that felt like a physical weight.

“predictable?” you shot back, masking the flicker of nerves with a smirk. “i prefer the term ‘consistent.’”

his lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. instead, he stepped closer, his long coat brushing against his legs, his boots echoing softly in the empty gallery. you took an instinctive step back, your fingers itching to reach for the smoke bomb in your pocket.

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he murmured, his voice dipping into something darker.

“what can i say? i have a knack for making your job harder,” you teased, even as your pulse quickened.

“yeah, i’ve noticed.”

his gaze was unrelenting, a mix of frustration and something else—something that made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t entirely prepared for.

“you here to catch me or flirt with me?” you asked, tilting your head with a grin you hoped looked confident.

his eyes narrowed slightly, his jaw tightening. “who says i can’t do both?”

your breath caught, but you refused to let it show. instead, you shrugged, leaning casually against the nearest pillar. “you’ve been chasing me for months, kamo. don’t you ever get tired?”

“never.” his answer was immediate, firm. “you make it interesting, plus if i wanted you arrested, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

you hated the way his words sent a spark of heat through you. this was supposed to be a game—cat and mouse, thief and officer. but the way he looked at you, the way his voice dropped just enough to make your pulse race, it felt like something else entirely.

“well,” you said, pushing off the pillar and circling him slowly, your eyes scanning for an opening. “if you enjoy the chase so much, maybe i’ll let you catch me one day.”

he didn’t move, his gaze tracking your every step like a predator watching its prey. “maybe tonight’s the night.”

“you think so?” you asked, stopping just out of reach, your smirk widening. “hate to break it to you, but i’m not that easy.”

“neither am i,” he shot back, his voice low and dangerous.

the air between you was electric, charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the job and everything to do with the way his eyes lingered on yours. for a moment, you wondered what would happen if you closed the distance, if you stepped just a little closer.

but then you remembered who you were—and who he was.

“well,” you said, taking a step back, “as fun as this has been, i’ve got places to be.”

you moved to dart past him, but he was faster than you expected. his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back before you could make it two steps.

“not so fast,” he murmured, his voice a quiet rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

you twisted in his grip, your free hand pressing flat against his chest to push him back. but instead of letting go, his hold tightened, his body impossibly close to yours now.

“gotcha,” he said softly, his breath warm against your ear.

your heart pounded, and you hated how much you noticed the heat of his skin, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scent—clean and faintly woodsy—seemed to wrap around you.

“you really think this is over?” you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

his lips curved into a faint smirk, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of amusement in his usually serious expression. “you tell me.”

you leaned in, so close your lips nearly brushed his ear. “not even close.”

with a sharp twist, you broke free of his grip, your smoke bomb already in your hand. you tossed it at the ground, the room filling with a thick cloud of smoke as you made your escape.

“see you around, officer,” you called over your shoulder as you slipped into the night, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t want to think about.

you knew this wasn’t the end. not with him. and as much as you hated to admit it, part of you didn’t want it to be.

hi im screaming and clawing my eyes out

ADMIRING FROM AFAR

pairing : choso kamo x f!reader summary : suddenly the quiet, alternative looking guy catches your eye in class and you're unable to shake the idea of him. from afar, you start to create a fantasy of what he might be like — and eventually your imagination has made up a character you slowly find yourself falling for cw : university au, non-curse/modern au, fluff, pining, pierced and tattooed!choso, smoking, one mention of a party, yuki cameo, terrible ending bc i suck at writing endings, no use of y/n word count : 3.6k

Hallway crush!Choso who didn’t stick out to you until you were halfway through the semester, on a random Tuesday.

The only reason he caught your attention in the first place was because he actually raised his hand to answer the professor’s question, something he had never done before, or since.

His husky, yet surprisingly soft voice, broke the deafening silence that came after the question was asked. Nearly in a trance, your head shot up to get a look of the mysterious guy.

Never had you been more thankful for the mandatory core courses you were forced to sign up for — you would never have encountered him otherwise.

Sitting two rows in front of you and five seats to the left, you weren’t able to get a clear view of the guy. However, what you did see, did not disappoint. Tufts of black hair was tied up in two buns, and silver jewlery decorated his ear. He was wearing all black, shy lines of ink peaking up the neck of his shirt and past his sleeves.

From that moment, you were hooked on the idea of this stranger.

Hallway crush!Choso who you spotted nearly daily now that you were aware of his existence.

You had an assignment due in one week, so you decided to go to the library to actually get some work done for once.

Three hours into your study session, you had to exhale deeply as your motivation was running low. So you let your eyes roam the peaceful scenery of fellow students, some more dutiful than others — when you suddenly spot the mystery guy from class, sitting with three other people.

He looked so casual, leaned back in his chair, arms loosely crossed across his chest as a chuckle played on his lips as a response to something the person sitting next to him said.

Now that you had the opportunity to get a proper look at him, you noticed how extremely good looking he was — the type of breathtakingly handsome that hid in plain sight by how he never tried to stick out whatsoever.

For the next hour, you would subtly shoot glances in his direction. In all honesty, you felt somewhat embarrassed by how you found yourself a little infatuated by a guy you didn’t even know the name of.

All of a sudden he raised from his chair, having you straighten your posture. He pulled his leather jacket over his shoulders, his bag across his chest and put his headset on — with a smile and a nod, he begged his friends goodbye and left.

Hallway crush!Choso who, despite having his small group of friends, tended to stick mostly to himself.

Yeah, he sat with his little crew for a few hours, but he always left before the rest of them. Not to mention you often spotted him walking from one class to another in his lonesome.

On the days the library was absolutely packed, and it was impossible for you and your friends to find any available seats, you would sit down at one of the sofa groups in one of the university’s many long hallways. None of you complained either, as there wasn’t the same pressure to remain quiet.

It just so happened that the man who had captured your interest, walked right past your designated spot at least three times every week.

His headset was on like always, walking with easy determination. He simply seemed to mind his own business as he smoothly made his way through the hallway without bumping into anyone.

Your attraction to the dark and handsome stranger wasn’t as subtle as you first had thought, when it didn’t take your friends more than a day to notice your admiring gazes hanging onto him for the few seconds it took for him to walk by.

“Who’s that?” Your friend asked with a playful lilt to her voice, leaning forward and placing her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Hm? Just someone in my social science class,” you answered nonchalantly with a shrug just as he was out of sight.

“Just someone in your social science class,” she repeated mockingly. “And what’s his name?”

Hot embarrassment raised up your neck, “I don’t know,” your voice weak as their teasing chuckles filled the space.

“So you’re just ogling a stranger, essentially?”

“Shut up, he’s hot,” you fired back as you fell back in your chair, desperately trying to ignore their laughter.

Hallway crush!Choso who only continued to remain a mystery as the weeks went on.

It quickly evolved into somewhat of an inside joke — a game almost, all of you pitching in with silly little ideas of what he might be like.

“He looks like a cat person,” your friend whispered as he walked by.

“Oh, no doubt,” you agreed, eyes glued on his back. “Probably grew up with a family cat that always sleeps at the foot of his bed.”

“You think he greets the cat before his family?” She giggled.

You laughed along as you slowly shook your head no. “Don’t think so. He greets his mom first,” you turned your attention to your notebook, your pen drawing mindless doodles across the pages. “He’s a mama’s boy. But not in a weird way, you know? But in a green flag way.”

They would all laugh along to the daily chatter that filled the group before turning back to their own work, forgetting all about him until he would walk by again.

You, however, couldn’t shake him from your mind quite as easily.

The more they fuelled your fantasy with their fun and innocent ideas of who he might be, you fell deeper into the spiral of your crush.

When left alone with your own mind, your imagination went beyond the small quirks your group came up with — you started to imagine meet-cutes.

What if you “randomly” bumped into him at the little coffee shop just off campus?

What if you were paired up for a group assignment?

What if you ended up next to each other in the kitchen at some random frat party, and the conversation would just flow so naturally?

However, you kept those made up scenarios to yourself, because it was too shameful to admit to your friends that you were slowly falling for the person you had made him out to be — still without a name to put to the face.

Hallway crush!Choso who broke your heart just a little, though totally unaware of the fact.

“I didn’t know your man had a girlfriend.” You shot your friend a confused expression before following her gaze.

That was a first. You had never seen him walking down the hallway accompanied by someone. Let alone a tall, blonde and absolutely gorgeous girl, pure confidence running through every fibre of her body.

After that, you saw just the two of them more often than you liked. And you knew it was absolutely ridiculous to even be bothered by the pair, but you couldn’t control how the lump in your stomach formed at the sight of how well they seemed to fit together.

Her look wasn’t quite as edgy as his, but they definitely had the same vibe. Not to mention they seemed to be close, evident by how she always leaned in and grabbed onto his upper arm when he made her laugh, or how just the two of them would leave their study session in the library to share a cigarette.

You hoped seeing them together would eventually kill the proximity crush your brain had stupidly nourished — it turned out to be the opposite.

Watching him interact with her only granted your imagination new material to build on. Whenever she spoke, he had all his attention directed at her — genuinely listening to every word she said. You watched how he was gentle with her, careful not to be too harsh in his movements whenever he made contact with her.

He just seemed like such a good guy, who made your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him.

Hallway crush!Choso who one day actually did crash into you in the line in the cafeteria.

At first you thought you were dreaming, because the scene played out exactly how you had imagined it so many times in your head.

It was lunchtime, meaning the cafeteria was obviously packed. You were blissfully unaware of his presence behind you, having stayed up a little too late the night before to try to get some understanding of the material you had been assigned.

It wasn’t until a random bystander bullied their way through the crowd in the opposite direction, causing him to stumble forward into you and he quickly uttered a polite apology, that you realised exactly who it was.

Strong hands had grabbed onto your arms to help steady you. When you turned to face him, you wished you were able to utter your own apology — however, the words never made their way past your tongue, too startled at the sudden close interaction.

“People really don’t look where they’re going, huh?” he said, a shy curve to his lips as he let go of you.

“That’s people for you,” you tried to joke once you found your words again.

Your heart was beating a million miles an hour as you watched his eyebrows narrow. “Hey, don’t we have social science together?”

He recognised you.

You cleared your throat and nodded weakly, trying to serve him a sweet smile but you could feel the waver in it.

“I’m Choso, by the way,” he smiled casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Once again you tried to smile, but your lips only managed to pull into a thin line as you introduced yourself.

You expected that to be the end of the conversation, that he would pull out his phone in an effort to smoothly round it off without it being too awkward for either of you — but to your surprise, you saw him contemplate his options before opening his mouth again.

“How’s the assignment going?”

“Well,” you started, hoping he didn’t notice the little crack in your voice. “The words are, at the very least, being put on paper, if that tells you anything.”

He chuckled.

You made him chuckle. It was low and coarse, but a chuckle nonetheless. “Sounds familiar.”

He continued to keep the chatter light as you moved along with the queue, completely oblivious of the effect he had on you.

It wasn’t much, but just based on the little interaction, he seemed even more lovely than you had imagined, which only did more damage to your already smitten heart. Because being effortlessly attentive when listening and engaging in the conversation though he didn’t need to, only brought a piece of reality into your fantasy.

Your palms were turning clammy as your heart was pounding against your chest so loud you were sure he heard it. He was, after all, standing closer than one normally would a stranger due to the thick crowd of hungry students surrounding you.

“Well,” he sighed once you’d both paid and stepped into the hallway. “I need to get going. But it was nice to finally meet you for real.”

Finally.

Nice to finally meet you.

“Yeah, you too,” your lips twitching in a smile, heat travelling to wash over your face. You had always thought him to be so incredibly handsome, but you had underestimated how charming his smile was up close.

“I’ll see you around.” The curve of his lips continued to linger as he backed away before he eventually turned his back towards you and removed his headphones from around his neck to put them on.

Hallway crush!Choso who slowly started to gain the title of acquaintance after the reenactment of one of your made up scenarios.

It started very casual — he would greet you with a quiet “good morning” as he walked past you in the auditorium before taking his usual seat two rows in front of you.

“Morning,” you smiled in return while he held your gaze for a little while.

Waking up the days you knew you had class with Choso became a little easier when you knew what friendly routine was waiting for you.

After three weeks of the innocent interaction, he decided to disrupt the comfortable pattern you had fallen into. This Tuesday morning, he didn’t continue walking down the stairs after wishing you a good morning.

No, he stopped dead in his tracks, pointing at the empty seat beside you. “Is this seat taken?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and shook your head. “No. No, all yours,” you stuttered as you moved your bag for him to sit down.

He uttered a weak “thanks,” and made himself comfortable, pulling out his leather bound notebook and pen.

Hallway crush!Choso who turned out to be a lot funnier than you had first imagined.

Too caught up in the potential romantic gestures that entertained the depths of your mind, you found yourself so giddy whenever he whispered a silly joke during class for your ears only.

Hallway crush!Choso who accompanied you for the few minutes it took for you to walk to your friends after class finished.

“I’m headed in that direction anyways, so I’ll just tag along.” You’d be a fool to decline his offer, cutely biting your bottom lip and clutching your laptop closer to your chest, feeling like a love struck teenager.

When coming around the corner, you avoided looking in the direction of your friends at all costs. You knew you wouldn’t be able to suppress the embarrassment that would flush your face if you witnessed their shocked expressions as a reaction to walking alongside the guy you had fawned over for months.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that you spun around — sure enough, they all sported exactly the facial expression you had expected, staring wide eyed with their jaws slacked.

“Okay? Something you forgot to tell us, babe?” One of your friends gushed once you had taken your seat. You shrugged innocently, trying not to let all your excitement spill over at once.

“Hope you at least know the name of your stranger now,” the one sitting opposite you teased.

You nodded slowly, “Choso,” you answered simply, enjoying the interrogating looks they were giving you.

“And? Give us the details!” All three of them had pushed their school work aside — this was ten times more important after all.

So you began to explain of the happy accident that had taken place a few weeks ago, and it had eventually ended with the two of you always sitting next to each other during lectures — none of them failed to match your energy.

“Wait, but I thought he had a girlfriend?”

And as easy as that, your girly and romantic fantasy shattered into a million pieces. Guilt was written all over your friend’s face as one could literally see the realisation dawning on you.

Having lived in the pure bliss of your new friendship, you had completely forgotten about the goddess he was so often seen with.

You started to reflect over the fact that you couldn’t remember seeing her in a while, and felt sick that you might have been too wrapped up in Choso that you just hadn’t noticed her recently.

Thus your excitement was short-lived, not ever wanting to be that girl.

Hallway crush!Choso who noticed how your mood was drastically different than normal the next time he met you.

He had looked forward to seeing that sweet smile tug at your lips when he wished you good morning, but instead he was met with a cold “hi”. You didn’t even turn to look at him.

Had he done something to upset you? The last time he saw you, nothing seemed to be off. You were your chipper self, greeting him with a curve to your lips so wide, your eyes would crinkle.

Class started, and you had yet not said another word to him. He shot you a glance, seeing your fingers hurriedly travel across the keyboard of your laptop, and every once in a while letting your eyes flicker up to look at the professor.

Maybe it was just a bad day. Maybe you had an exam in a different course that was causing you unnecessary stress.

Or maybe, god forbid, you’d come to the conclusion that Choso wasn’t someone you wanted to waste your attention on after all.

Hallway crush!Choso who decided to walk you out of the auditorium, despite your cold front trying to push him away.

It was awkward — incredibly awkward, a feeling that really hadn’t been present in the newly blossomed friendship. Still with no words exchanged, you packed your stuff and pulled out your phone.

Once outside of the auditorium, Choso wanted to try and start a conversation to try and disclose whether he’d done something or not. He only managed to catch your eyes when calling your name before a bolting figure came crashing into his side.

“There you are! You’re an impossible man to catch these days,” the girl exclaimed.

Choso saw the discomfort that subtly traveled down your face, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“I’ll see you around, Choso,” you said shyly, about to turn around and walk away before the blonde captured your attention.

“Wait, is this the girl you’ve been talking about?” You quickly spun back around, eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the blonde girl had peaked your interest.

Switching your attention to Choso for a second, you noticed how dusty pink had coloured his pale cheeks, his eyes wider than you’d ever seen them.

“It might be,” he said before clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders, hoping you didn’t notice the stress that was residing in his body.

“Finally,” she groaned, her hand shooting forward to initiate a handshake. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while. I’m Yuki.”

You still weren’t able to completely put the pieces together yet, blinking at her as you accepted her hand and introduced yourself.

“Oh, I know,” she mused, flashing you a cheeky grin. “This one right here,” patting a flat hand against his chest, “doesn’t really stop talking about you.”

A shy smile spread across your lips as you quickly shifted your gaze to him. “You’ve been talking about me?” You spoke softly.

“Well-” he stuttered, the pink quickly deepening into red.

A teasing scoff shot past her teeth. “Isn’t he cute when he gets shy,” she said as Choso’s shoulders grew stiff under her embrace. “You have that effect on him.”

When the opportunity to properly observe the dynamic between the pair in front of you, as well as digest the things Yuki was actually telling you, the pieces finally fell into place — they were just friends.

You had worried and spiralled for no reason, having spent the days since you had last seen him to prepare you to distance yourself from him.

But one look at his embarrassed face and tense body as a result of being teased about you, had all the butterflies come swarming back within seconds.

Choso kept most of his attention on Yuki as she went on to ask him what she’d initially come to talk to him about, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes dart over to you every once in a while.

“My god, you’re my saviour,” Yuki gushed at her friend, tugging playfully at his arm, before turning back toward you. “He’s truly a catch,” she said with a wink as she slowly started to back away. It had you grow a little restless, knowing you would soon find yourself standing alone with him. “Be good to him. And it was great to finally meet you!”

And she was off.

Slowly Choso turned his entire body towards you, his face having done the impossible and gotten even more red.

“What an interesting interaction,” you breathed.

A nervous chuckle slipped out of him in an attempt to remove the immense pressure that was looming over him. “She’s really something.”

“What was that part about me making you shy?” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I mean-“ he cleared his throat. “I guess you’re seeing it in action right now.”

“Hm,” you said simply, causing him to narrow his eyebrows in response — both in confusion and slight worry.

“Hm what?” Swallowing the lump in his throat.

“It’s cute.”

Then he couldn’t stop smiling.

Boyfriend!Choso who managed to live up to every bit of your love dazed fantasy.

At times, you were scared you had let your fantasy go to far — that in your desperate hope for something more, you had created a character that no living person would ever be able to live up to.

Yet here Choso was, in the flesh, embodying every scenario you had made up when you had been tossing and turning on sleepless nights, and then some.

Small or big, he never disappointed.

He held the door open for you, he remembered your coffee order, he showered you with compliments and admiration.

It didn’t take long for him to learn how you yearned for grand gestures — so Choso made it a mission to fulfill those dreams.

Not only did he succeed, but he excelled well beyond your expectations.

He made sure to take you on dates frequently, but also spontaneously so you wouldn’t see them coming. He managed to make every occasion feel planned and intentional.

Boyfriend!Choso who was absolutely baffled once you told him about how you had admired him so intensely before you ever talked to each other.

The confession caught him completely by surprise, because he couldn’t in his wildest dreams have imagined you even noticed him before the little episode in the cafeteria.

Boyfriend!Choso who despite succeeding in making you his girlfriend, got just as shy about you now as he did then.

tags : @sad-darksoul

an : i hope it's a universal experience to create proximity crush that drives you crazy... dividers by @/strangergraphics comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2025 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

wait is this real......

geto suguru lookalike contest happening in toronto

yall WILL see me there.

whatthufcuk shO CUTTEE CHOSO BIGSPOON CHOSO BIG SPOON CHOSO BIGSPOON!!!!!

it's a garden life

choso kamo x reader (college au, no curses)

a/n: wrote a lil fluffy domestic choso fic! can't believe i haven't written for choso yet i love him sososososo much he's so cute :3 in my dreams i live in a cute apartment with him. also in my head he studies psych and bio at uni idk why it just makes sense in my head but this isn't relvevant to the plot don't worry this lowkey has no plot LOL

word count: 782 masterlist

contains: established relationship, no curses au, college au, gender neutral reader, choso's style is implied to be alt, choso is cute (as always), kissing, cuddling, reader wears his clothes, choso calls r "baby", idk what else

you love Thursdays, purely for the fact that you never have any classes. it's like a mini mid-week weekend, a break for which you're often very grateful. however, on this particular Thursday, you're kind of bored. not that you didn't have things you could do, but because you'd usually have a lie in with your boyfriend, choso, since he didn't have classes until the afternoon. well, except for today, because he had both morning and afternoon classes, which meant it had just been you in your shared apartment for most of the day. and although he'd smothered you with kisses like he always did before he left, it was hard not to miss his presence.

you'd spent your day doing nothing in particular, just finishing small tasks and completing anything you hadn't yet finished for whichever classes you had the next day. now, it was nearing early evening, and you were lying on the sofa wearing one of choso's many oversized hoodies, half watching reruns of a random sitcom, half wondering when choso would come back. as a myriad of thoughts swirled through your mind, you hear the door click and creak slightly as it opens, the sound making you jump.

"hi baby!" choso calls out brightly from the front door. you can almost perfectly envision his everything he does as he does it - the way he takes his chunky boots off, hangs his jacket up, unties his hair and puts his hair ties on the small table in the hallway. reinvigorated, you leap up, running towards the front door, half sliding through the hallway thanks to your fluffy socks.

"cho!" you exclaim, practically jumping into his arms as you greet him in the corridor, only metres from the front door. he squeezes you, holding you tight. "you're back early?" you question, tangling your fingers in the long, soft strands of his hair as he presses soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. he laughs warmly, and the sound vibrates, washing over you like the comfort of a weighted blanket.

"i missed you. so i found a way to leave class early." he says honestly, slipping his hand into yours.

you laugh. "as much as i love that you did that, please tell me you didn't get into any trouble." you say, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"no, i, uh... i told the professor i was ill. i'm surprised he bought it, to be honest." he says, slight embarrassment flashing across his face for a moment. he looks down, his cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pale pink. it's certainly not the worst thing in the world, but choso's never done something like that, and he feels a little silly about it until you push the thoughts out of his mind with a kiss.

he kisses you back softly, trailing one hand to your waist while the other finds yours, and he swears he can feel all of his worries melt away from the feeling of your lips on his. he backs you into the wall, sliding his hand up from your waist to rest behind your head to ensure you don't hurt yourself. your heart swells at the gesture, and you grip his hand a little tighter before pulling away. you're met with the sight of choso breathing heavily, lips a little redder than before as he smiles at you, starry-eyed.

he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "i'm going to change, then i'll join you in the living room, yeah?" he asks, and you nod in confirmation. you peck his cheek, and he smiles before heading off into the bedroom. meanwhile, you reassume your position on the sofa, grabbing choso's favourite blanket before sinking into the pillows. as you flick through the channels to find some kind of background noise, eventually settling on a rerun of the same sitcom as before, choso enters the room clad in some dark grey sweatpants and an old baggy band t-shirt. you make a mental note to yourself to steal that from him at some point.

choso flops down on the sofa, half smothering you in the best way. you laugh as he wriggles around, trying to reposition himself. eventually, he takes what one could only describe as his rightful place, as the big spoon. he makes sure the blanket is over both of you before he slides his arms around you and pulls you in against his body, nuzzling his head into your neck.

"i don't wanna move. ever." he murmurs, wrapping his legs around you, clinging to you like a koala.

"who says we have to?" you say, half rhetorically.

so you don't. why would you want to, anyways?

THIS IS SO ADORABLEE my heart melted

can't sleep (unless i'm with you)

megumi fushiguro x reader

a/n: lil blurb for my favourite boy's birthday!! happy birthday megs ily thank u for existing even though ur fictional u make my days so much better <3 anyways this is inspired by the fact that i have not been sleeping too well lately and i wish he was there with me lol

word count: 572 words masterlist

despite bringing you a multitude of amazing things that you were beyond grateful for, being a sorcerer came with numerous struggles, and sleepless nights weren't something you were unused to. tonight happened to be one of those, and in spite of how exhausted you are, it's as if your brain is refusing to switch itself off.

you can feel a million thoughts running through your mind. even after trying almost everything that usually helps you fall asleep, you still lie there, eyes closed, mind far too awake. now, there's only one more thing you could try.

your finger hovers over megumi's contact as you contemplate once more. you didn't want to disturb him - he had had just as exhausting a day as you had - but truly, there may be nothing else that could possibly help you avoid lying awake until you were driven to insanity. biting the bullet, you hit the call button, and it starts ringing. thankfully, megumi isn't too heavy a sleeper; he's barely ever slept through an alarm, so chances are he'll hear it. after a few moments that seem to drag out into eternity, he picks up.

"hey, you okay?" megumi asks, voice barely above a whisper, though you can hear the concern in his words.

"hi. sorry, i'm fine, i just, uh, i can't sleep..." you whisper back, trailing off. "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have disturbed you." you continue, barely audible.

you hear some rustling on the other end of the line before megumi responds.

"don't apologise. i get it." he stops for a moment. "do you want me come to your room or do you want to come here?" he asks, direct as ever, his voice rough and gravelly with sleep.

you're silent for a few seconds. "can you come here? please?" you ask softly, and he can picture you, facing the wall as you curl up into your duvet.

"sure. i'll be there in a couple minutes. see you in a sec."

a small smile creeps onto your face. "thank you, megs. i-"

but before you can finish your sentence, the line is cut.

before you know it, there's a soft knock at your door as megumi taps the pattern only he uses. it started as a silly little joke, but it has its uses - being able to tell that it's him at your door is beyond reassuring.

you are, of course, met with your beloved boyfriend as you open the door. his hair is a little flattened on top and fluffier than usual on the sides as a result of sleep, and you can't help but feel a little guilty for waking him up. he pulls you in to him, and you rest you head on his shoulder as his hands press into your back.

"don't feel bad for waking me up. i'd rather be here with you, anyway." megumi whispers, as if he can read your mind. you whisper a quiet thanks, and pull away from him, grabbing his hand to lead him to your bed. he lets you get in first, then takes up his position behind you once you're comfortable, lying on your side. he tucks his head into your shoulder and slides his arms around your torso, tangling a leg with yours.

"goodnight. i love you, angel."

"i love you too, megs."

unsurprisingly, falling asleep is a lot easier when he's there. and you know he'll come anytime you call.