circle circle dot dot.

𝓈ynopsis: a surfer, a mermaid, and their love on the beach. request from.. @gumiholic

𝓉ags/𝒸w: surfer megumi x hybrid mermaid reader, non-curses au, sfw, gn reader, not proofread ⓘ 𝒻antasy, romance ❤︎

𝒶uthor's note: i wrote this with a fever, a sore throat and a dream. anyways enjoy guys 😹 tbh idk why i wrote this in 3rd person but yeah.

surfer megumi who started surfing when he was just thirteen years old. his adoptive father, satoru gojo taught him when they used to go to the beach. megumi didn't want to admit because it would make him look like a major softie but he thought he gojo was the best surfer he knew and he would rather die than say that to his face.

surfer megumi who got his first surf board at their father's surf board shop by the beach. it was cyan board with the silhouette of a palm tree painted a pastel yellow un the middle. when he first got it, you could the glimmer in his eyes. he was happy and excited to try it out but again he would rather die than say that out loud.

surfer megumi who met reader when they were out for a swim at night. he thought they were weird for going out swimming at night but little did he know was that they secretly turned into a mermaid when the sun goes down. he found out they were a mermaid when he saw their tail in the water as he was going on his regular late night walks by the shore.

surfer megumi who didn't believe in mermaids at first hut after finding out reader's little secret, he definitely believes in them now.

mermaid reader who secretly had a crush on megumi before he found out they were half mermaid-half human. when he did find out, they were worried that he would think they were weird or that they would lose all their chances with him because of it.

surfer megumi who didn't really mind. he actually thought that it was really interesting which got him really curious.

mermaid reader who answered any questions he had. like: "how did it happen?" or, "is it uncomfortable?", or even "what's the trnasation from human to mermaid like?"

mermaid reader and surfer megumi who get closer the more they hang out. they meet up very night by the beach and hang by the shore, talking about whatever was on their mind. everytime they hung out they realized they have a lot in common like they love the beach, love sea creatures and like star gazing.

mermaid reader who found the courage to confess their love to megumi. it happened on one of their late night hang outs. they sat down on the shallow part of the water where small waves came crashing down on their tail, they were stargazing that night. as megumi was chatting about the constellation that appeared in the sky, reader was lost in thought. they could tell megumi now but would he want to maybe try things out or does he just want to stay friends? the thought of confessing was already terrifying but rejection felt even more scarier.

"megumi?" they ask, "can i like..tell you something but you promise you won't get mad or upset or even annoyed?"

megumi looks down from the sky and faces reader, "sure. what is it?"

reader looks away for a moment. as the waves crash on their tale, they look at the scales that adorned the place where their legs were meant to be when it was early and bright. they look back at megumi.

'it's not like he cares if im a mermaid when it gets late. it's not like he's the kind to care so much about looks. so why am i so afraid?" they think, "if he doesn't like me then i should get over it, if he rejects me i should move on and continue as friends..'

"i like you..like alot" they tell him, still looking at their tail, "i know its weird especially when it's been maybe about a month or so since we started talking and you discovered my really embarrassing situation but i feel like you should know and i understand-"

"you like me?" he asked, his eyes widened as if the idea that there was someone out there who loved him was some strange and foreign concept. his face just screamed the words 'for real?'

they nod. "a lot..it's embarrassing."

megumi looks at them, his eyes tracing their features as if trying to find some hint of a smirk. he was trying to see if they were joking or not. he'd never forgive himself if he fell for a joke like that.

"you like me.." he repeats under his breath. he's never had some confess to him like that. he's used to getting looked at but being told was something new. "that's nice.." was all he could really say.

"i..like you too." the moment those words left his mouth and reached their ears, they couldn't help but feel their heart drop to their.. ass? their tail? whatever!

they gasp. "really?!"

megumi nods. "i was planning on telling you.. eventually but i just couldn't find the words to tell you. i mean everytime we hang out it feels nice. i like having you as friend and um.." brush creeps up to his face. "i think you're good company and ialways thiught you were pretty‐"

"pretty nice!" he finishes his sentence already red like a tourist with a terrible sunburn. "so uh..yeah."

"yeah.." they whisper unable to really say anything other than a shy 'yeah..'

from that moment on, they became much more than just two kids sharing one secret.

“…hey.” you murmur, your voice quiet as you flash a small smile at your husband on your phone screen.

he’s roughed up — you can tell that much from what you can see of him. the angle which he holds his phone at is inconvenient, but part of his head is in frame, seemingly propped up against the pillow of some dingy hotel bed, one of his arms resting behind his head.

your heart aches a little at how worn down he looks. it’s an unfamiliar feeling, to see your typically-strong husband looking so weathered under the lamplight, hair messy and under-eyes dark. it’s so unusual, to see his confident demeanour eroded into something much more fragile. nonetheless, there’s something sincere in his eyes, something so familiar, so distinguishably toji.

your eyes rest on his pixelated face. “how have you been?”

he sighs. “yeah…been okay. how are you? has the kid been behaving?” you snort weakly at that. for your son to ever act up was practically unheard of to both of you. he was always uncharacteristically quiet, his actions and behaviour much milder than that of any three year old child you’d ever seen.

“come on toji, i think we both know the answer to that.”

“yeah yeah. silly question i guess. but…just wanted to check.”

your heart twists a little at that, a dull ache hitting you at his words. they’re more vulnerable than you’re used to hearing from toji, and you don’t fail to miss the way his mouth twitches, as though he’s not quite sure whether to elaborate. he doesn’t have to, though. you already understand, and you can hear the regret tainting his tone.

it isn’t like it’s his fault that he hasn’t been so present in megumi’s life. what with working to provide for your little family, it makes sense that he sees the boy much less than he’d have liked. nonetheless, you can sense your husband’s insecurity easily, and it makes your chest ache.

this level of rawness between you both — unfiltered, total openness — is definitely new, but you’re undeniably glad that he’s somewhat more readable for once. seeing toji’s true feelings is a kind of luxury that you don’t normally get when speaking to him thanks to high walls he seems to have built around himself, after all.

you watch his eyes lower from the camera, his brows furrowed a little as he tries to settle with the uncomfortable feeling lingering between you both.

you hesitate. “hey…i can put megumi on the phone if you want…?”

“yeah, that’d be nice. thanks.”

you head to the living room, where megumi is currently doodling. his puffy cheeks are pushed out in careful concentration and his lip is jutted out. his hair is freshly damp from his pre-bedtime bath, and you can’t help it think that he looks eerily similar to his father. his usually thick spikes are pushes down into a mess of straight inky strands, save for the the odd few spikes that still seem to stubbornly stick out.

you crouch and rest your hands against the coffee table, speaking softly in the hopes of drawing his attention towards your words.

“hey gumi, wanna say hi to papa?” you speak tentatively, gently poking his chubby arm with your finger, but he doesn’t look up. he’s too focused on colouring in the poorly-drawn frogs on the page, sticking his tongue out and furrowing his brows further as he tries and fails to stay within the lines.

you sigh, throwing toji a quick, apologetic look over the phone before trying again.

“megs? look!” he finally looks up, blinking slowly at you, clearly unsure what you could possibly want from him. you decide to gently ease the phone into his hand, letting him take hold of it.

he peers down through long lashes at the screen, expressionless as he watches the cluster of pixels that seems to be his father shift slightly. toji sits up a little, dark green eyes a touch brighter at the sight of his son.

“hey little man. what’re you up to?”

your son doesn’t reply, uninterested in speaking as always, and simply stares at the screen in silence, lip poking out further. at the angle that megumi’s grasping the phone, you’re sure toji can see all three of the toddler’s chins as well as the mess of crayon colours staining his oversized pjs.

the bright light of the phone bounces off the boy’s face in uneven blue flickers, rays of light catching on his dark strands of hair. after a few minutes of waiting for further action from toji, your son seems to deem the (lack of a) conversation pointless, placing the phone back onto the table beside him and picking his crayon back up.

oh.

toji’s expression falls immediately, but he tries to play it off, turning his face to the side and scratching his neck awkwardly at the dismissal.

“…the kid doesn’t like me much, huh?” he jokes, but it’s evident even over the poor call quality how the joke falls completely flat, a humourless laugh escaping his lips as though to make up for it. he attempts his usual teasing grin, but it just looks…weak. somehow, he looks even more tired than he had just a few minutes ago, despite being all roughed up from all the busy days of being away from home.

you sigh and lift the phone from the table before heading to the kitchen doorway, choosing to leave megumi to colour in peace. you speak softly into your phone, trying to adopt a gentle tone: the way you speak is careful, tender, as though you’re speaking to your three year old rather than your 6’2” husband — and toji hates it. you can tell as much by the way he winces the second you speak.

“toji…it’s nothing, that’s just how he is, you know.”

“nah, don’t be like that. it’s fine.” the short laugh he forces out sounds robotic, void of any real sincerity, and you know that’s your cue to drop the topic.

nonetheless, the look of dejection simmering beneath your husband’s usually confident, lazy features breaks your heart. you’re about to speak again, hoping to salvage the situation a little, when you feel a small tug on your sleeve.

“oh! megs, what’s up?” you frown, a little alarmed at the suddenness with which he’d appeared at your side. to see megumi ask for anything is rare, and you can’t help but fear the worst — maybe he’s unwell? or has he hurt himself?

before you can spiral any further, however, the three year old reaches out a hand, expression unreadable. he’s practically on his tiptoes now, one hand holding onto your leg for support as he tries to signal for the phone silently.

“my phone?” he nods, tugging at your sweats more urgently, brows furrowed and expression determined.

puzzled, you pass the phone to him. he takes it, glancing quickly down at the screen, as though to check whether toji’s still on call. upon confirming that he is still on the line, megumi nods assuredly to himself before shuffling his way back to the living room, taking toji with him.

you follow behind, watching the chubby toddler lower himself back onto the floor and place the phone down on the coffee table, leaving toji by his side as he scribbles more frogs and a couple of bunnies onto the sheet. every few seconds he peers over the phone screen, checking to make sure toji hasn’t left. and each time, upon seeing his dad’s face peering back at him, his surprisingly stoic features soften a fraction in relief, only for the child to then return to wearing serious look as he goes back to colouring.

you notice the pattern on the third repeat, with megumi struggling to peer over the phone properly from where he’s sat down. watching him struggle to properly angle himself to see toji’s face once more, you decide to help him, carefully moving to his side and propping the phone up against a plant pot. he seems pleased at that.

by now, it’s obvious to you that toji has clearly cheered up, his usual grin back, but there’s an undeniable softness in his eyes as he watches megumi doodle quietly.

a kind of comfortable silence settles of the room, only occasionally interrupted by toji prompting megumi to show him the latest development in his drawing: first a few dogs, then an elephant and then a pair of wobbly stick men. the shorter one has noticeably spikier hair, sticking up at angles on the stick figure’s head, and you can’t help but grin at the accuracy.

at some point megumi begins to yawn. he seems to have deemed his drawing done, and so he lifts himself off the floor before sleepily laying down on the couch with the phone still propped under his arm. under his other arm are his two dog plushies, retrieved from where they had lay amongst the pile of cushions at the far end of the couch. you begin to gather the toys at the far end of the living room, having noted the toddler’s exhaustion and the clear signs that it’s his bedtime already.

toji scoffs under his breath at the captivating view of megumi’s sleeve, which is now perfectly in the way of the camera. he can’t see a thing, though he recognises the tell-tale sound of the boy’s breathing easing into gentle snores. it’s oddly soothing to him, really: the feeling of being needed by his son despite being miles away.

you finally finish tidying the toys, planning on picking your son up to take him to bed, but not without hearing toji speak softly into the phone. there’s a slight lilt to his voice, as though he’s fighting back a smile, and his usually-gruff tone has been softened into something almost borderline boyish. it’s so gentle, so uncharacteristically tender, that you almost miss it:

“night, megumi. sweet dreams.”

author’s notes: i love dad!toji and baby megumi sm they’re so precious to me taglist (thank you!!!): @mayegasm @nonchalantfiend @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism @yujisdreamgirl @nonamedreams @ivankinnieclatter @sugerfilled @silverstar111 @dreamyreadinglover @v4mp1r3b4tzz @dev1lw4arsprada @megantheestallionswife @magicalpeenpoo @qrxswan @silverwfern @luvhza @rozzaa0scentzz1 @azizxxxah @akiangelcanon4sure @b-bitter @shy-guy927 + join!

husband!megumi fushiguro x f!reader, girl dad megumi, probably ooc i’m sorry😓, megumi has glasses, fluff | wc 1.5k

"...um...so now what?"

you're sat at the kitchen table, half slumped over in your seat and exhausted from the past half-hour of helping or trying to help your daughter with her math homework. if you’re honest, you’re not even sure if you can call it helping. between the heavy flipping through your daughter's textbooks and the scattered mess of sheets across the table, the two of you have solved an embarrassingly small number of questions, and it's clear you're both at the end of your tether.

your daughter glances up at you, expression half-incredulous before bursting into complaint.

"why are you asking me what to do? you're supposed to be the one helping me!"

you chew at your lip in frustration. sure, maybe you're not that big of a math enthusiast but surely you have to have it in you to be able to do this level of math at least, you reason with yourself.

with a quick sigh, you pull your chair closer to the table to get a better look at the equation once more.

"...okay. so...maybe try multiply the root out...and then um...you should get….." you trail off. it’s obvious by now that you’re totally lost. that results in a wail from your daughter as she buries her face in her hands, a few stray sheets falling to the floor in the process.

“…what are you both doing up so late at night?”

you look up, and for the first time today, you think maybe there finally is some hope for your daughter to complete her math homework.

the hope himself — megumi fushiguro — is stood in the doorway, his expression unimpressed as he stares at you both through his glasses, taking in the chaos. textbooks are scattered haphazardly, worksheets and pages discarded and your daughter is currently half on the verge of tears.

unfortunately enough for your poor husband, this is definitely not an uncommon sight for him. in fact, it’s become a sort of routine for you and your daughter — every sunday evening, no fail, you both manage to wind up in the exact same situation.

it isn’t like you aren’t both aware of the issue, either. he’s scolded you both countless times, his features stern as ever as he’d lectured you on the importance of not procrastinating. but as always, his lecture seems not to have gotten through to either of you.

megumi simply sighs, too tired to even question it this time, before making his way to the table. you gratefully slip out of your seat so that he can take your place next to his daughter, allowing you to stand back and watch him. he reaches over the table to organise the mess of sheets and workbooks into a neat pile before picking up the pen.

it’s cute, really, and you can’t help but bite back a smile at the sight: your husband leaning over the worksheet, brows pinched in careful concentration and his slender hand moving fluidly over the paper as he demonstrates how to solve the next question, and to his left, your daughter, her own expression equally as serious as she tries to keep up.

you try — and fail — to stifle a tiny pleased sound at the sight, causing megumi to turn and raise a brow at you, unamused.

“what are you doing? sit, you need to pay attention too.” megumi taps the table, nudging his head in the direction of the seat opposite him. “how else are you going to help her next time?”

“…me? but can’t you just do it next time, megs?”

he looks up from the equation he’s solving to throw you an unimpressed look.

“okay, fiiine.” you huff out before sliding into the seat opposite him.

with your head resting against your palm, you watch as he works through the equations, his voice low and brows pinched in concentration as he explains each step to your daughter. it’s sweet, and you can’t help but cherish the evenings spent like this. not to mention, despite all his grumbling, you can tell that megumi likes the domesticity of it all too.

-

he’s always been like that — enjoying chores and seeing no problem in sitting through tedious tasks, never uttering a complaint. you’d teased him at first, finding it hilarious when he confessed that he actually looked forward to doing chores with you, solving the sudoku whilst curled up on the couch, or even just studying.

the first time the topic came up, you’d been washing the dishes with him stood by your side, neatly wiping them dry and placing them on the counter. you’d nudged him teasingly, throwing a quick glance in his direction.

“you know, megs, you’re such a workaholic sometimes..”

“…how so?”

“you always seem so content when we do chores or boring tasks. it’s almost creepy you know.” you had mumbled, looking up from the dishes once more to study his expression. he seemed unbothered by the observation, but you could see the way his mouth was just slightly parted, as though wordlessly questioning your words. “not to mention,” you continued, “i’ve never met somebody who enjoys solving math equations for fun until i met you.”

he didn’t reply, simply dropping his gaze back to the plate he’d been wiping before humming quietly in acknowledgment.

“if i didn’t know gojo, i’d have assumed he was reaaally strict with you as a kid, but we both know that’s definitely not true…” you trailed off — it had been just last week when satoru had visited and had absolutely spoilt your daughter upon coming to visit you both, after all.

after some quiet deliberation, megumi finally decided to speak up, voice softer than usual.

“…i guess it’s just nice to have a routine. it’s a nice change from all the chaos.”

you had smiled at that, studying your husband’s face once more.

“hm, yeah. i guess you’re right, megs.”

-

finally, megumi finishes explaining the last of the homework questions. your daughter jump ups from her seat with a relieved expression, holding up the worksheet and looking over it with a pleased expression.

meanwhile megumi stretches, cracking his neck and allowing his eyes to flutter shut for a second as he lifts his head towards the ceiling. you study the way his lashes graze his cheek slightly as he inhales before bringing himself to sit upright once more. he turns to face you and your daughter once more.

“next time,” he murmurs pointedly, tone firm but not harsh, “don’t save your work until sunday evening, okay?”

you both nod, though all three of you know that his words have definitely fallen on deaf ears as always.

megumi watches your daughter rush upstairs to get ready for bed before he finally lets himself relax a fraction, yawning and placing his head onto the desk. you stay sat in the seat opposite him, allowing your hands to run over the dark tufts and spikes of his hair before carefully lifting his glasses from his head, placing them on the table next to him.

“megs, you’re going to break your glasses like that.” you murmur softly, voice gentle and expression concerned. your eyes graze over his slumped form, the way the stray spikes of hair cling to the nape of his neck and the tired slump of his shoulders. “do you want me to make you some tea..?”

he shakes his head no before lifting his head once more, watching you through half-bleary eyes. he tries to rub the sleepiness away, attempting to focus on your face as best as he can without his glasses on as you frown at the glass lenses, trying to rub them clean with a cloth. you’d never really noticed just how dirty they’d gotten, and of course megumi being megumi, he’d probably never even considered taking the time to look after himself instead of others.

so you take it upon yourself to offer him this simple act of care, hands steady as you rub the glass clean in circular motions.

you both sit like that in silence for a short while longer, with you still gently cleaning his glasses lenses as he sits sleepily, cheek pressed against his hand as he watches you.

you eventually decide to speak, your voice tentative.

“seriously, though…thank you, megumi.”

he blinks at that, a little thrown off-guard, and for once the usual stoic expression seems to melt into something slightly softer.

“…it’s…nothing.” he sighs, sitting up and scratching his neck. “like i said though…next time, try not to leave it so late.”

you stifle a tiny giggle at that.

“…yeah, yeah — i won’t.”

you both know that isn’t true, but megumi decides not to comment on it. he’s completely content with things as they are, anyway.

author’s notes: agh i’m so sorry for taking SOO long to write this req but i enjoyed writing about nerd megumi & i loved the idea of him having glasses too so thank you!! also i’m sorry that this is a little ooc💔 i tried ahh taglist!

If u do

I'm asking for a silly little fic of Megumi where the reader and him were enemies before and now are dating, and fighting playfully w each other over silly stuff🥹🤞🏻

—💍🪻 anon

❝ 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓 …

°˖➴ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑚𝑖

Dating Megumi Fushiguro was surprisingly similar to being his enemy.

The realization hit you about three months into your relationship, after Nobara had watched the two of you argue for nearly twenty minutes over whose fault it was that you missed a train.

It hadn't even been a real argument.

At least, not by your standards.

To everyone else, however, it had looked concerning.

"You know," Nobara had said afterward, "most couples don't bicker like they're going through a divorce."

The worst part was that she wasn't entirely wrong.

The thing was, you and Megumi had never really figured out how to stop challenging each other.

Years of competing during training, disagreeing during missions, and generally getting under each other's skin had become second nature. Getting together hadn't magically erased that. If anything, it had made it worse.

Now there were feelings involved.

Which somehow made every interaction ten times more irritating.

And ten times more enjoyable.

It was a problem.

A problem that currently involved a convenience store and a chocolate bar.

"No."

You stared at Megumi.

Megumi stared back.

The chocolate bar remained firmly in his hand.

"Why not?"

"Because I said no."

"That's not a reason."

"It is."

"It literally isn't."

The entire disagreement had started because he'd picked up a chocolate bar while waiting in line. You had casually mentioned that he liked that brand.

Then he'd decided you didn't deserve it anymore, after kicking him in your sleep last night.

There had been something annoyingly confident in your voice. Like you'd already assumed he'd at least share.

Naturally, that meant he wouldn't.

Now the two of you were walking back toward the dorms while you followed beside him with the patience of a man dealing with a particularly difficult child.

"You bought two."

"Observant."

"You don't even like chocolate."

"I might start."

"You won't."

"I might."

"You won't."

You certainty annoyed him more than it should have.

For a moment, the conversation dissolved into silence.

Comfortable silence.

The kind neither of you ever acknowledged.

The late afternoon sun stretched across the pavement ahead of you while students drifted around campus in small groups. Somewhere nearby, someone was laughing. The familiar sounds of Jujutsu High blended into the background, easy to ignore after spending enough time there.

You stood beside him, shoving your hands in your pockets and pouting.

A smile threatened to form on his usually stern face.

"You want it that badly?"

"No."

"You looked at it."

"I didn't."

"You did."

Megumi sighed.

Not dramatically.

Not annoyed.

Just the quiet, resigned sigh of someone who already knew he was going to give in eventually, simply because it's you.

For all his stubbornness, Megumi had always been surprisingly easy to read. Maybe not to everyone else, but to you.

You noticed the small things.

The way he avoided eye contact when he was embarrassed.

The way he got quieter whenever he cared too much about something.

The way he pretended not to want things rather than admit he did.

Years ago, those habits had driven you insane.

Now they were strangely endearing.

You hated that.

A little.

"You're staring."

Your thoughts immediately vanished.

"So are you."

"I wasn't."

"You literally just looked at me."

Megumi rolled his eyes.

"You make everything difficult."

The laugh that escaped you was automatic.

"So I've been told."

"Repeatedly."

"Yet here you are."

That earned you a look.

Not an annoyed one.

Not really.

Something softer.

Something that would've been impossible to imagine back when the two of you could barely survive a conversation without trying to prove the other wrong.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then, before he could stop himself, Megumi sighed, and held out the chocolate bar.

You blinked.

"What?"

"Take it."

"You said no."

"I changed my mind."

Suspicion immediately crosse face.

"You definitely did something to it."

"What? No."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"You absolutely did."

Offended, he tapped you atop the head with the bar. You whine, rubbing the spot with an increasingly more irritated look on your face.

"Hurry up," he says, doing it again, but notably softer than the last time. "before I change my mind. Take the damn chocolate."

Your change in expression was almost immediate, and you grinned.

Perfect.

"See? Happy now?"

"You're annoying." you mumbled, trying to hide the clear satisfaction on your face with a scowl. "Took you long enough..."

"That's not what I asked." he says, rolling those stupid pretty green eyes of his.

A pause.

Then another sigh.

This one significantly fonder than the others.

"Yeah. Thanks." You say, seemingly reluctantly.

He gave a rare smile. Megumi shook his head, but he didn't argue back this time.

And somehow, despite all the complaining, despite the endless bickering and pointless arguments, that felt suspiciously close to a win.

husband!megumi fushiguro x f!reader, girl dad megumi, probably ooc i’m sorry😓, megumi has glasses, fluff | wc 1.5k

"...um...so now what?"

you're sat at the kitchen table, half slumped over in your seat and exhausted from the past half-hour of helping or trying to help your daughter with her math homework. if you’re honest, you’re not even sure if you can call it helping. between the heavy flipping through your daughter's textbooks and the scattered mess of sheets across the table, the two of you have solved an embarrassingly small number of questions, and it's clear you're both at the end of your tether.

your daughter glances up at you, expression half-incredulous before bursting into complaint.

"why are you asking me what to do? you're supposed to be the one helping me!"

you chew at your lip in frustration. sure, maybe you're not that big of a math enthusiast but surely you have to have it in you to be able to do this level of math at least, you reason with yourself.

with a quick sigh, you pull your chair closer to the table to get a better look at the equation once more.

"...okay. so...maybe try multiply the root out...and then um...you should get….." you trail off. it’s obvious by now that you’re totally lost. that results in a wail from your daughter as she buries her face in her hands, a few stray sheets falling to the floor in the process.

“…what are you both doing up so late at night?”

you look up, and for the first time today, you think maybe there finally is some hope for your daughter to complete her math homework.

the hope himself — megumi fushiguro — is stood in the doorway, his expression unimpressed as he stares at you both through his glasses, taking in the chaos. textbooks are scattered haphazardly, worksheets and pages discarded and your daughter is currently half on the verge of tears.

unfortunately enough for your poor husband, this is definitely not an uncommon sight for him. in fact, it’s become a sort of routine for you and your daughter — every sunday evening, no fail, you both manage to wind up in the exact same situation.

it isn’t like you aren’t both aware of the issue, either. he’s scolded you both countless times, his features stern as ever as he’d lectured you on the importance of not procrastinating. but as always, his lecture seems not to have gotten through to either of you.

megumi simply sighs, too tired to even question it this time, before making his way to the table. you gratefully slip out of your seat so that he can take your place next to his daughter, allowing you to stand back and watch him. he reaches over the table to organise the mess of sheets and workbooks into a neat pile before picking up the pen.

it’s cute, really, and you can’t help but bite back a smile at the sight: your husband leaning over the worksheet, brows pinched in careful concentration and his slender hand moving fluidly over the paper as he demonstrates how to solve the next question, and to his left, your daughter, her own expression equally as serious as she tries to keep up.

you try — and fail — to stifle a tiny pleased sound at the sight, causing megumi to turn and raise a brow at you, unamused.

“what are you doing? sit, you need to pay attention too.” megumi taps the table, nudging his head in the direction of the seat opposite him. “how else are you going to help her next time?”

“…me? but can’t you just do it next time, megs?”

he looks up from the equation he’s solving to throw you an unimpressed look.

“okay, fiiine.” you huff out before sliding into the seat opposite him.

with your head resting against your palm, you watch as he works through the equations, his voice low and brows pinched in concentration as he explains each step to your daughter. it’s sweet, and you can’t help but cherish the evenings spent like this. not to mention, despite all his grumbling, you can tell that megumi likes the domesticity of it all too.

-

he’s always been like that — enjoying chores and seeing no problem in sitting through tedious tasks, never uttering a complaint. you’d teased him at first, finding it hilarious when he confessed that he actually looked forward to doing chores with you, solving the sudoku whilst curled up on the couch, or even just studying.

the first time the topic came up, you’d been washing the dishes with him stood by your side, neatly wiping them dry and placing them on the counter. you’d nudged him teasingly, throwing a quick glance in his direction.

“you know, megs, you’re such a workaholic sometimes..”

“…how so?”

“you always seem so content when we do chores or boring tasks. it’s almost creepy you know.” you had mumbled, looking up from the dishes once more to study his expression. he seemed unbothered by the observation, but you could see the way his mouth was just slightly parted, as though wordlessly questioning your words. “not to mention,” you continued, “i’ve never met somebody who enjoys solving math equations for fun until i met you.”

he didn’t reply, simply dropping his gaze back to the plate he’d been wiping before humming quietly in acknowledgment.

“if i didn’t know gojo, i’d have assumed he was reaaally strict with you as a kid, but we both know that’s definitely not true…” you trailed off — it had been just last week when satoru had visited and had absolutely spoilt your daughter upon coming to visit you both, after all.

after some quiet deliberation, megumi finally decided to speak up, voice softer than usual.

“…i guess it’s just nice to have a routine. it’s a nice change from all the chaos.”

you had smiled at that, studying your husband’s face once more.

“hm, yeah. i guess you’re right, megs.”

-

finally, megumi finishes explaining the last of the homework questions. your daughter jump ups from her seat with a relieved expression, holding up the worksheet and looking over it with a pleased expression.

meanwhile megumi stretches, cracking his neck and allowing his eyes to flutter shut for a second as he lifts his head towards the ceiling. you study the way his lashes graze his cheek slightly as he inhales before bringing himself to sit upright once more. he turns to face you and your daughter once more.

“next time,” he murmurs pointedly, tone firm but not harsh, “don’t save your work until sunday evening, okay?”

you both nod, though all three of you know that his words have definitely fallen on deaf ears as always.

megumi watches your daughter rush upstairs to get ready for bed before he finally lets himself relax a fraction, yawning and placing his head onto the desk. you stay sat in the seat opposite him, allowing your hands to run over the dark tufts and spikes of his hair before carefully lifting his glasses from his head, placing them on the table next to him.

“megs, you’re going to break your glasses like that.” you murmur softly, voice gentle and expression concerned. your eyes graze over his slumped form, the way the stray spikes of hair cling to the nape of his neck and the tired slump of his shoulders. “do you want me to make you some tea..?”

he shakes his head no before lifting his head once more, watching you through half-bleary eyes. he tries to rub the sleepiness away, attempting to focus on your face as best as he can without his glasses on as you frown at the glass lenses, trying to rub them clean with a cloth. you’d never really noticed just how dirty they’d gotten, and of course megumi being megumi, he’d probably never even considered taking the time to look after himself instead of others.

so you take it upon yourself to offer him this simple act of care, hands steady as you rub the glass clean in circular motions.

you both sit like that in silence for a short while longer, with you still gently cleaning his glasses lenses as he sits sleepily, cheek pressed against his hand as he watches you.

you eventually decide to speak, your voice tentative.

“seriously, though…thank you, megumi.”

he blinks at that, a little thrown off-guard, and for once the usual stoic expression seems to melt into something slightly softer.

“…it’s…nothing.” he sighs, sitting up and scratching his neck. “like i said though…next time, try not to leave it so late.”

you stifle a tiny giggle at that.

“…yeah, yeah — i won’t.”

you both know that isn’t true, but megumi decides not to comment on it. he’s completely content with things as they are, anyway.

author’s notes: agh i’m so sorry for taking SOO long to write this req but i enjoyed writing about nerd megumi & i loved the idea of him having glasses too so thank you!! also i’m sorry that this is a little ooc💔 i tried ahh taglist!

husband!gojo x f!reader, 16yo nerdjo mentioned, gojo has glasses, fluff | wc 1.3k

“…hey suguru, are you sure the camera’s set up correctly?”

you smile to yourself at the sound of satoru gojo’s voice — albeit a much younger and more boyish version of it — coming from your laptop as you put the video into full-screen.

you lean closer into your husband, the present-day satoru, who’s sat by your side with his brows pinched and lip jutted out as he watches his younger self dart across the camera frantically. you’re both curled up, the laptop upon your legs and your head on your husband’s shoulder, his own head resting atop yours. by his side is a bowl of brownies — a friday evening necessity for you two now — and his legs are tangled with yours beneath the blankets.

on the screen, ivory strands of hair flash across the screen as you watch the much younger version of him fuss with the camera, trying to focus it properly on himself. from the little portion of his face that you can see, he’s evidently stressed, chewing so hard on his lip that you’re sure that it’s bound to start bleeding at some point in the video.

after a few minutes of messing with the camera, a sixteen year old version satoru finally comes into view on your laptop. there’s something softer about him, an almost refreshingly naive sense of youth in his features as he beams at the camera, clearly pleased with himself for finally working it out.

“…okay! hello viewers! today’s video is going to be about determining planck’s constant using….” he rummages through the small tray to his left. “ah- this little guy!”

he holds up a tiny blue LED bulb, a huge grin on his face. “it doesn’t look like much, but there’s a crazy amount of quantum mechanics behind making this thing run!”

you snort at that, playfully nudging present-day satoru, who pouts and turns to face you.

“toru, you were such a dork!”

“i wasn’t! it is a pretty cool piece of physics — you just don’t understand!”

you can’t help but laugh harder at that, at which he groans and lifts a brownie to your lips.

“you’re doing too much laughing. just eat.”

you gasp, scandalised, pushing his hand away playfully. “you’re just trying to shut me up!”

“am not.”

you’re about to offer a witty comeback when you’re interrupted by the slightly distorted sound of video-satoru speaking to the non-existent viewers once more.

“…okay..so you can see here that i’ve set up the circuit. here,” he points at a power pack, “i’ve attached the power supply to a resistor. then i’ve attached the ammeter in series to our LED. oh, and of course the voltmeter is in parallel.” he lifts the LED bulb attached to two crocodile clips, holding it beside his face.

“hey, this shade of blue kinda matches my eyes! see?”

you feel satoru physically tense up a little by your side, clearly cringing at his past self too. you put a arm around him, rubbing his shoulder soothingly as though to comfort him that it isn’t that bad even though it really is.

“okay..now you’re gonna want to roll up a piece of cardboard to form a tube…” he demonstrates, eyes fixed on the surface of the table. his tongue is stuck out just slightly in concentration, a habit that seems to have followed satoru even into adulthood, before finally lifting it to his eye.

“it should look a little like a makeshift telescope….tada! like a pirate, i guess…guess you could say that it really looks like i’m about to walk the planck.” you’re sure you hear somebody snort at the terrible pun — presumably shoko, judging by the pitch of the noise.

you have to bite back your own laugh for the sake of your poor husband, who has now dramatically buried his head in his hands with a groan.

“my own wife hates me.”

“i don’t hate you toru! i think you were cute!”

“you think i was a total loser.”

“a cute loser!” you quip with a giggle, pushing his glasses back so you can study his face clearly and propping them upon his head. carefully, you study his features, as though to gauge whether he’s really embarrassed. of course, he’s got his signature pout on, dramatic as ever, but you can still see the slight crinkle in his eyes as he tries to fight off a smile.

he clearly enjoys the attention.

you sigh and playfully flick his forehead. “you are so dramatic! whatever, eyes on the screen. we still need to see the result of this experiment, right?” you pull his glasses back down, fixing them so that they’re now resting upon his nose.

video-satoru steps back slightly so that he’s fully in view, absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater as he speaks.

“okay! so my friend shoko’s gonna turn off the lights now…and then i’m going to use this,” mini-satoru holds up the cardboard tube, “to block out any remaining light from the windows! my eyes are pretty sensitive to my surroundings already so i could technically skip this step, but for the sake of accuracy i’ll do it anyway.”

the lights flick off and you hear rustling on the screen before his voice sounds once more from somewhere in the dim classroom. the quality is too poor to properly make out his features amongst the sea of darkness.

“okay..so i’m going to keep gradually adjusting the resistance until i see it light up…”

as if on cue, the familiar soft white hair and cheesy grin come into view, illuminated by soft tones of lapis blue. the light seems to bounce off his features. the quality of the LED is much too poor to fully light up the room: instead, it flickers weakly, dancing across the boy’s face in uneven patches. nonetheless, the pleased grin on his face is so distinguishable, so satoru, and you feel your heart swell a little at the boyish look he flashes towards the camera.

with a little kick to his legs under the blanket, you mumble, “you were so cute toru…it’s not fair.”

you keep your eyes fixed on the animated actions of his younger self on screen, leaning further into him subconsciously as you pick up a brownie slice and take a bite.

“hey, aren’t i still cute now?”

“…don’t push it.” you mutter between chews.

the laugh he gives off is warm, hints of the sixteen year old version of him you’re watching on screen just slightly noticeable in it if you listen close enough. something about it all, about current-satoru’s messy white hair, the way his brows relax a little as he smiles, the hints of a cheeky grin evident on his face: it’s all so familiar, so unbelievably sweet and reminiscent of the naiver, smaller version of him currently rambling excitedly on screen.

the video comes to an end as you stare at satoru. you’re zoned out, eyes fixed on his features, staring at him as though deep in thought. eventually you realise that the video has already ended and that he’s already moving to shut the laptop, clearly somewhat relieved at the opportunity to turn it off, before you eventually speak up.

“next week we’re watching the most recent one.”

you murmur it with a sense of finality, and satoru can’t help but raise his eyebrow at the suddenness, a tone of worry seeping into his voice when he finally speaks.

“mm? why that one specifically?”

“…shoko told me you blew something up.”

“oh. that one.”

author’s notes: filler post since exams start tomorrow💔this is so embarrassing but i had to check the notes whilst writing this because i forgot how to do the practical anyway physics paper 1 tomorrow and i’m writing a fic about one of the practicals do we think i’m getting that A* taglist (thank you!!!): @mayegasm @nonchalantfiend @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism @yujisdreamgirl @nonamedreams @auryyymarix @ivankinnieclatter @sugerfilled @silverstar111 @dreamyreadinglover @v4mp1r3b4tzz @dev1lw4arsprada @megantheestallionswife @magicalpeenpoo @qrxswan @silverwfern @luvhza @rozzaa0scentzz1 @azizxxxah @eyayur @strawberrychansora @qrxswan + join!

synopsis: he tutors you and you take him to watch the newest film in town, what kind of deal is that?!

tags: nerd megumi x reader, sfw, ⓘ romantic comedy

author's note: this is a request from my mootie cakes bubbles! ilysm bubbles here ya go also has anyone seen the backgrounds movie yet 🥹? bc ive been wanting toooo

"Please?" You beg.

"No."

"With a cherry on top?"

"I said no."

"Okay what if I maybe give you something in return?"

"Like what?" He asked in a annoyed tone.

"Uh.. I could take you to go see the new backrooms movie..?"

Megumi Fushiguro sighs. Other than being a massive history nerd, he was also a big movie fan. Sci-fi, horror, mystery, and anything other than romance, he'll watch.

So when you offered to take him to watch the new backrooms movie, he immediately said:

"Alright fine. Meet me in the library after-school and we'll talk."

"Alright! So its a deal!" You said and walked off to attend the rest of your classes.

Once the bell rang signaling the end of school, you made your way to the library. Deep down you felt hope. If Megumi Fushiguro could help you getbyiur history grade up, you'll be free from the shackles of failure. Once you reached the library, your eyes searched for the sea-urchin haired boy.

You found him sitting down in the middle of the library, he looked focused on something in his laptop (probably an assignment). You walked over to his seat and asked with a mischievous grin:

"Hi, I'm here for my free tutoring session with Mr. Sea-urchin."

Megumi rolled his eyes and replied, "just sit down, Ln."

"Fine." You said with a sigh and sat down.

You guys spent three hours working through some of your most difficult work. He helped you understand certain concepts you didn't get at first and made you think, 'this guys needs to get a job as a teacher. he can actually teach unlike some teachers..'

By the time the sun started to dip, you two were already at the gate.

"So about the movie.." Megumi asked.

"I know, I know." You sigh, "I'll take care of it. I don't get paid until friday.."

"Oh. So you're broke?" He asked, a tiny smirk forming on his face.

"NOT TRUE!" You exclaim, a frown beginning to form. "I'm employed unlike someone!"

"Hey! I'm also employed!" He replied, annoyed.

"Yeah, who do you work for then?" You ask him, skeptical.

"..." Megumi stays quiet because the truth is.. he lives off of his adopted fathers allowance.

"That doesn't matter." He mutters

Once you stepped out of the gates Megumi did the most out of character thing possible

"Do you want me to walk you home?"

"Oho! since when was Megumi Fushiguro a gentlemen?" You teased but he replied, angrily, "Do you want me to or not?!"

You sigh and reply, "I guess... if it isn't such a bother"

"You already are being a bother. Let's go." He says

Now you guys are on your way to your home. But something felt off. Why would Megumi offer to walk you home? You guys don't really know each other personally, you guys are classmates who started talking only because you begged him to tutor you. Does he want to be friends or what if he wants your number or wants to date y-

'Nononono!' You mentally told yourself, 'He cannot like me! That'd be like so weird!'

The thought of Megumi Fushiguro, the stoic and easily annoyed boy in your class who is obsessed with movies and has like 0 social skills wanting you of all people made your heart rate speed up. Definitely not in the romantic way! Because you don't like him. He just a nerd. Nerd. A nerd who likes movies and is helping you with your class.

You don't feel anything for him!

Or do you?

You shook your head, "Definitely not.."

"Did you say soemthing" Megumi asks, snapping you out of your panicked thoughts.

"Um..nuh uh."

"Whatever." Megumi mutters, "You're kinda weird."

"SAY WHAT?" You yell, surprised that even after everything you offered, he wants to call you weird.

"I said WHATEVER! Now can you keep it down? People are going to think we're crazy!" He groans.

"Fine." You frown

You soon reached your house and Megumi asks, "Is this your home?" You nod

"Alright well..you better have the money. For..two tickets maybe. If you want not that I care.." he muttered, he looked away for a second but you knew there was a shade of pink spreading across his face. "Say what now." You say, the color leaving your face because now your theories are coming true. He definitely is asking you out.

But why?

"Um.. yeah. Friday right?" You ask trying not to freak out at the sudden change in mood.

"Yeah..sure." he says, now awkward.

"Okay.. friday."

"Yeah." He replied.

"Not a date right? You're not..asking me out, right?" You ask him just to make sure.

But there is a silence in the air, a heavy one.

"Listen yn.."

"Yeah?"

"I..don't like this whole talking thing. It's weird, strange even. But I feel like I have to get this off of my chest before it kills me. I like you. I think you're smart and cool.. so I was thinking maybe you'd like to go out to the movies Friday? I could still tutor you and all but-"

"Sure." You didn't let him finish that sentence.

"I'd love too, fushiguro."

"Oh okay. So it's a date right..?"

"Mhm." You reply

"Cool. Well I'll see you tomorrow..and make sure to study the stuff I told you about earlier."

"Yeah. See you" you say with a small smile already forming on your face.

🕷️ ⸝⸝ hurt no comfort (yet), husband!gojo x reader, spiderman!gojo, description of injuries/mentions of blood | wc 1.5k

things had always been simple between you and your husband. it had always just been easy, providing a sort of security in your life that you hadn’t felt in years. sure, satoru gojo could be a little unpredictable at times, teasing you or acting annoyingly foolish just to draw a giggle out of you — but asides from all the dorky jokes and pranks, it was clear that the man behind them was genuine.

you could easily look through those piercing blue eyes and see his sweet nature peeking right back at you from past them. even the hazy blue of his irises couldn’t seem to fog up and block out his personality. instead, every time your eyes met you saw directly into him, the satoru gojo you loved finally reduced into something softer, rawer, more vulnerable. only you could see the version of satoru where he was able to be unconditionally himself around you, free of the bells and whistles.

or at least, that’s what you had thought before you found out that your husband was secretly spiderman.

it’s a memory you’d both gladly leave behind. sometimes distorted snippets of the awful day occasionally blur their way through your mind, your thoughts loud with the memories of your tears, of the sight of satoru so weak in front of you, worn down and eroded in a way you’d never seen. or rather, in a way he’d never allowed you to see.

he'd been completely gone all night, all of your calls going to voicemail. when you'd first heard the front door click open, your first instinct had been to shout, to interrogate him on where he'd been, anything — until you saw the blood. he'd been hunched over himself, his breathing strained and wincing slightly, not making eye contact.

and suddenly, with the sight of satoru gojo stood in his tattered suit, deep gashes all over his body and half on the verge of death, the entire life you’d built for yourself collapsed under your feet. years of marriage shattered into fragments until all you could feel was the sting of the lies you’d been fed, each one burning hot and sour tasting against your tongue. each one of his lies, each harmless excuse, seemed to sting like tiny glass shards lodged into your heart: each dinner he’d shown up late to, each night when his work at the lab had “overran”, each last-minute errand he had insisted on going on.

you’d shouted at him. they'd been tearful, harsh words, whispered words of regret and betrayal. and then, you’d cried. you settled by his side, kneeling on the bathroom floor next to his weak body as he tried to sit upright for you, wincing in pain. but what was scarier, much scarier than each wound, each bit of damaged flesh or each deep cut, was how uncharacteristically small he had looked in that moment.

he had been weak in a way that was much deeper than just cuts or injuries, something regretful lingering beneath his actions: evident in the way his hand trembled just slightly as he tried to prop himself up further, evident in the way those soft blue eyes you loved were blown wide, darting towards your face as you continued patching him up.

something about those eyes that you loved so much staring right back into yours, this time weakened into something that was much more panicked, more lost, broke something in you. they were the same eyes that you had been convinced told you every truth about satoru, the same eyes that you’d noticed everything in, the ones that you were convinced told you every truth about satoru, like some sky-blue doorway to his heart.

and yet here you were, met by those very same eyes looking so unfamiliar, so roughend by time that it made your stomach twist until you felt sick. and even worse, he looked so used to that feeling of hurt, almost as though he was unfazed by the lingering exhaustion that had taken over his features. a look of subtle defeat seemed to be plastered onto his handsome features, eyes dull and pale skin littered with cuts.

you’d failed to see it. failed to see satoru.

it had made your heart twist with a sickening wave of guilt as you finished patching him up, still not yet able to meet his gaze. instead, you’d fumbled with the bandages, hands shaking as you tried to put away the first aid kit. with a horrible pang in your chest, you realized that the bandage supply had been slowly dwindling for a long while now. by now, the bag was almost entirely empty. the few bandages that did still remain had clearly been haphazardly shoved in by your husband, uneven and half poking out from their rightful spots, as though they'd been put away in a rush.

just how long had he been hiding these things from you? how well did you really know satoru?

“…satoru,” the name came out broken on your tongue, half-whispered as though you secretly hoped he wouldn’t hear you. like maybe if your words never reached his ears, you’d never get a response. like you could pretend it never happened. “…why didn't you tell me?”

he hadn’t replied, opting to simply stare at his own lap, fiddling with the ends of the gauze wrapped around his hand. you’d chanced a glance at him, just one, hoping it would all turn out to be some sort of sick dream and that you’d be met once more with that silly grin he’d always put on just for you. but instead you were met by the sight of his gaze lowered, his features dull. his exhausted body had been slumped against the bathroom floor still, one of his arms resting over his torso and his head low as though it was bearing the weight of each past choice and action he’d made to get here.

you swallowed hard before slowly sinking to the floor in front of him, crawling over and gently taking his face in your hands. you let your thumb glide over his pale skin, ghosting over the wounds tentatively, before slowly lifting his chin to face you.

and beyond the torn suit, and the blood-stained hair, and his furrowed brows, you saw him. weak, vulnerable, features almost fearful, as though ashamed to be seen in such a state.

with trembling hands, you wrapped your arms around him and pressed your head into his chest, carefully not to touch the freshly bandaged gash. you kept your face buried against his chest for what felt like hours, sobbing weakly.

“…toru…just…why?”

he had simply sighed before tentatively letting his hand come to rest on the back of your head, his touch so weak you could barely tell it was there.

satoru knew you were mad — and you had every right to be. but what was worse for him than any anger you could possibly aim at him, much worse than your shouting or any harsh words thrown carelessly his way, was the fact that you didn't punish him at all. all you could do was sob into his chest. he could feel each stutter of your breath, each tiny weak hiccup as your hand fumbled with the fabric of the suit, as though searching for something, anything, to cling onto. searching for a remnant of him to cling onto.

it was like you were looking for something to ground you, to make you feel like the marriage you’d experienced had been real. that the satoru gojo you’d known was really who he said he was all along.

but through it all, all you could focus on was the cold fabric of the suit under your touch, a thin barrier between you both, the distance barely there and yet seeming to span endlessly between you both.

somehow, with him here, under your touch, he felt even more distant to you. here he was, was no longer rushing off randomly, no longer insisting he couldn’t make it to dinner reservations after work, no longer hiding wounds and pressing his body weight against the bathroom door to keep you from finding out. and yet, with him finally here, finally held in place, finally not running away, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly far away he felt. further than before. broken around the edges in a way you’d never seen, beyond physical injuries or loud expressive words.

just tired. scared.

and sickeningly, amongst the hazy blur of the scent of antiseptic and the sound of his labored breathing and the sight of his soft ivory-white hair stained crimson with blood — the hair that you had loved to run your fingers through — you felt a question gnaw at your mind. a tiny, numbing question selfishly eating away at your thoughts.

who even was satoru really? how much longer could you bear to keep aimlessly chasing a shadow of the man you thought you had known?

author's notes: i had originally wanted to write fluff but instead i ended up writing this oops but yeah i do plan on writing a part 2 with comfort/fluff hopefully!! taglist (thank you!!):: @mayegasm @nonchalantfiend @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @hangenism @yujisdreamgirl @nonamedreams @auryyymarix @ivankinnieclatter @sugerfilled @silverstar111 @dreamyreadinglover @v4mp1r3b4tzz @dev1lw4arsprada @megantheestallionswife @magicalpeenpoo @qrxswan @fifi-reads + join!