netsumu

[netsumu]

insane. astronomical.

gojo always seems to be off in a world of his own.

a little detached, you think. awkwardly long limbs constantly on the move, eyes stuck in a direction no one else can follow, a trajectory you don’t think even he knows. one blink and he's gone, just like that. too far ahead, too far above, even on the occasions he slows down and lets you catch up.

flimsy, maybe. like he’ll get carried away by the breeze when spring rolls around. like he’d turn into seafoam if you reached out and touched him.

satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. but there's a softness to him when he's alone, you’ve come to learn; something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be.

no one except for you, anyhow.

(you wonder if your presence is really that inconsequential to him.)

the beach is entirely empty, save for you and gojo. and summer’s ending, burning into little cinders, sputtering out before your very eyes.

tokyo is just beginning to dip its toes into autumn, the frost and chill, the hiss of the biting wind. the rusting of leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. smelling of rotten apples and cinnamon, old books and burning wood.

it’s dark out. painted a thick gray, the sky is blanketed by heavy clouds, the entire world hidden behind that coating of wool. not a single sliver of starlight slips through, but there's a comfort to it, that feeling of being cocooned — safe and warm. a feeling cruelly stripped away by the nipping of the wind at your bare skin, but you digress.

everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air; scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which. 

and a sense of foreboding sinks into your veins.

(you look out at the jagged rocks piercing the surface of the sea, and dully wonder how they’d feel piercing your skin.)

something shivers, to your right. a flicker of movement, a barely audible chatter of teeth. and then, a white puff of vapour.

”man, it’s cold.”

gojo looks displeased. 

only vaguely, a little crease between his eyebrows as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his puffy baseball jacket. moving his feet a little, to warm up, snowy tufts of white hair tousled by the ocean breeze. his shoes are muddied by the wet sand, but he doesn't seem to mind.  

a soft scoff leaves your lips, mostly harmless. maybe just a little smug. ”told you,” you click your tongue. 

gojo whines. his sunglasses are starting to fog up, you notice. ”it’s still summer!” he pouts. ”i thought the sea would be nice and breezy!”

an unimpressed look smooths over your features. gracing him with a raise of your brow, you don’t fully manage to bite back the soft smile that follows. don’t even really attempt to.

it’s been a long day. evidently not long enough for gojo, seeing as he dragged you down here — even though he knew it meant missing the train you were supposed to board after successfully finishing your mission. he just had to get a closer look at the sea. just for a moment or two. 

and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one. 

(what made you agree was simply the thought of spending some more time with him. not like you could ever tell him that, though.)

so there you stand. two juveniles, shivering and shifting from foot to foot, on the brink of nightfall, the edge of summertime. watching the sea stretch out into infinity, across the gap between this world and the next. a murky blue. easy on the eyes.

the noise of the sea fills your ears; waves crashing into sand, the whistling of the wind, seagulls crying out in the distance. and faraway, the chatter of a rattling train. a cacophony of sounds, buzzing and crackling, melting together. scattered across the beach are countless tiny white seashells, and the occasional green glimmer of drift glass — mermaids’ tears, shed for lost sailors, or so you’ve heard.

you wonder if the mermaids ever shed tears for lost sorcerers. probably not.

a shiver runs through your body, down to your cold hands, the tips of your fingers. reddish and itching for warmth. you tuck them into your pockets with a breathless exhale, still shaking a little. 

in truth, you and gojo aren’t very close. you’d like to call him a friend, but it's kind of hard; when he's so enamored with suguru, so animated around shoko. with you, he always seems kind of —

stiff? 

or maybe more like bored.

he doesn't laugh as loudly, doesn’t act as cocky. doesn't flaunt his knowledge on sorcery, and isn't as clingy as he is with the other two.

(you've never liked people touching you. it's not hard for others to discern, with how you flinch away when they get close.

still, you can't help but feel a little jealous when you see him tugging suguru and shoko around.)

deep within your chest, like a stunted seaweed, sprouts a tiny pang of disappointment. it’d be nice if you could grow closer, you think.

just a little would be fine. 

”i like the sea.”

you turn your head.

gojo looks a little lost in thought. gaze trained on that expanding ocean before you, those splotches of blue and gray, the waves that bruise the edge of the sand. forlorn, maybe.

a hum buzzes in your dry throat. ”do you?”

”mm.” little white breaths slip from his lips. you wonder if they’d taste as salty as the air. ”’ts nice.”

a silence stretches out before you. delicate, like a sheet of glass. gojo picks at a piece of lint on his sleeve, and you shift from foot to foot. then he closes his eyes — a flutter of his dewy eyelashes.

”kinda makes you feel like everything’s about to end, huh?”

you look at him, but don’t see anything. a single glimpse of his closed eyes is all you gain from the glance you cast his way, but it’s not enough. not enough blue to fall into, no expression to savour. he looks the same as always.

but you’ve never heard his voice sound like this before.

”… end?”

and with that, they flicker open. there it is, you think. that vibrant blue. only to be obscured once more, when he turns to you fully, a smile playing at his glossy lips. ”don’t think so?”

a second passes. you look forward.

what you see is as follows: waves upon waves upon waves. the same blue and gray, as far as the eye can see. a sea big enough to drown each and every one of your worries. 

something comes over you. a sensation of loneliness, something close to longing. a feeling of being rather lost. searching for something. your heart feels heavy, an anchor sunk to the bottom of your gut. little fish nipping at your ribcage. your eyes trail over those jagged rocks, again; the mermaids’ tears, that all-consuming sea, right in front of you. like it could open its maw and devour the world.

you think of the lost sailors.

(one jump and it’s all over.)

a breath. salty on your tongue. ”… i guess i get it,” you whisper. a soft murmur, mingling with the mist. 

silence.

out of the corner of your eye, you see gojo shift. one moment he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring at the sea. in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue. and you think he looks a little mesmerized, like he’s seeing something not even he can fully comprehend.

(maybe he just hasn’t had many chances to go to the beach before. something to do with being a clan kid, maybe?)

but then he clears his throat, hands moving to brush some sand off his puffy jacket and jeans. turning on his heel, hair ruffled by the breeze. he tries to sound chipper, but there’s something else there. you don’t know what it is, but…

”anyway,” he chirps. ”let’s go. we can still make it to the next train if we hurry.”

you look at him. his retreating figure, a head of white hair, surrounded by mist. a little like an apparition. then you turn towards the sea.

”… nah, that’s fine.”

a pause.

gojo stills, just about to take the first step forward. but you stay rooted in place; unmoving, staring at the blue before you, a deep longing reflected in your eyes. 

”let’s stay a little longer,” you hum, unsure of where the words came from. but you know you aren’t ready for the moment to end, just yet. that you aren’t quite ready for summer to pass.

…

all he does is stare, for a second or two. attempting to find some humour in your voice, you assume, any signs that you might just be joking. but he doesn’t find it. uncharacterstically silent, gojo stays frozen in place. 

then he puffs out a breath — amused. 

”you wanna freeze to death?” he grins, and you can hear it in his voice. you turn to face him, almost smiling. a little cheeky.

”you’ll warm me up, no?”

the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in. meant to sound a little snarky, you think, something akin to a chuckle — but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request. 

the tips of your ears feel a little warm, suddenly.

a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of gojo’s face, and his grin falters. you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if they widen or not, but his lips part, and you note that they look soft. 

and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy, from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you.

he throws an arm over your shoulder. a heavy weight against you, grounding, causing you to stumble. friendly, tugging you close. into his orbit.

(no infinity, you note. you can feel his body heat seeping through the fabric.)

it's nice. he's tall, and he's warm. cozy, protecting you from the bitter cold, like your own personal furnace. no wonder suguru never catches any colds, with someone like this draped over him all the time.

gojo speaks. there’s a sweetness to his voice, a mellow kind of contentment; bubbling up like seafoam, spilling from his glossy lips. you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

”well, duh.”

when your gaze falls on him, he's already looking at you. leaning closer, sunglasses slipping a little further down the bridge of his nose — enough to expose the blue of his eyes, the tiny splotches of white scattered across his aquamarine iris. like a cracked marble. or a summer sea.

he’s speaking again, and you almost don't hear it. distracted by those cracked marbles, the strawberry red of his cheeks, the warmth shared between you. the pitter patter of your heartbeat, like waves crashing against the sand. mesmerized. not daring to look away. almost like you’d cease to exist, were he to close his eyes. like your existence hinges entirely on the blue of those eyes.

(and maybe it does.)

he nods towards the sea, and grins. a mischievous glint in his eyes. ”wanna take a dip?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

it makes you laugh, either way.

”do you want to freeze to death?” you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. subtly angling your body closer to his, hoping he won’t notice.

gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now? 

”hehe. i just think it'd be fun!” he chirps, still draped over you like an overgrown cat, and you almost find yourself saying yes. just to keep the summer from ending, keep him from being swept away by the breeze.

but summer is ending. slipping away, second by second, like two juveniles drowned by an ocean wave. never to be found. and in comes autumn, the smell of rotting apples, the crunch of sand beneath your feet; an arm over your shoulder, an intake of breath. the taste of nice, crispy air on your tongue. 

a chuckle flows from your lips. all you see before you is blue, a murky shade, a vibrant hue. you think you could drown in it. you’re not sure you’d mind.

”maybe next time,” you whisper.

gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, until they bloom — with a kind of bubbly excitement. unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe.

you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate. 

satoru gojo. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. a seaborne boy with his very own orbit, born to carry the weight of the world, spinning so close that you can almost delude yourself into thinking he feels the same. 

almost.

(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.)

[netsumu]

the human stress response seems so maladaptive!

[netsumu]

the kind of man we all want and need 🆙️🆙️🆙️

haikyuu boys as tweets.

ft. tsukishima, oikawa, atsumu, goshiki, kita, kenma, mattsuwaka, bokuto, & shirabu !

⤷ masterlist ; requests open

[netsumu]

biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso. biker! choso.

[netsumu]

warnings: fem!reader, tsum loves his gf (you), never tell atsumu i wrote this about him, cutesy<3

atsumu miya who hates it when people say to you “oh you’re atsumu’s girlfriend!” or refer to you as just “atsumu’s girlfriend” instead of your name.

atsumu miya who thinks you’re the best thing to ever happen to him, so if he’s around to hear it he always takes over the conversation.

“actually, i’m ‘er boyfriend.” atsumu gave girl in front of you a sickeningly fake smile. he didn’t miss the confused look on their face as they processed what he said. “isn’t that the same thing?” atsumu loved when they asked that question, because then he got to talk about his favorite thing: you. “nah,” he shook his head, glancing quickly between you and the poor strange that did this to herself. “she deserves to be known fer more than jus’ bein’ m’girlfriend. but ‘m just some dude she puts up with.” atsumu knew he was underselling himself (and you thought he was overselling you), but still meant every word he said. “could lose m’entire career tomorrow ‘nd i wouldn’t care s’long as she’s still there.” atsumu beamed now, a real smile. he didn’t care about the way the girl just mumbled an “okay?” before walking away, but he did care about the look on your face right after. “do you have to do that every time someone calls me your girlfriend?” you frown, grabbing onto his hand that he so kindly held out for you. “doesn’t it get tiring to tell people all that?” “could never get tired of talkin’ ‘bout ya.” atsumu leaned in to dramatically kiss you on the cheek, laughing as your shove him away. “could listen to yer laugh forever.” “shut up.”

atsumu miya who, at the end of the day, doesn’t really care who’s know for what — he’s just happy he gets to have you by his side.

[netsumu]

beefy men

#sakusa x reader

[netsumu]

100 days.

it has been exactly 100 days.

100 days without your voice, 100 days without your touch, 100 days without your warmth, 100 days without your love, 100 days without you.

honestly speaking, i don't know if i want to turn back time and do things differently. if i had pray harder, would you stay? would god let you stay?

but in those 100 days, i have found warmth and love from the people around me. they certainly can never replace yours but it kept me going. it was like a tiny spark that lit up a new fire within me.

those 100 days taught me more than my entire years of living, and it made me love you a little bit more.

life can only be lived once it tastes all the flavors of death

the fear of not loving someone enough overpowers the fear of being too much

things do happen to you for a reason

life will never go back to how it used to be, you just build a new normal

joy and grief can go hand in hand

grief never goes away and the world does not stop, but you can stop

there are some things that death can never touch

people feel grief differently, but we all feel it

grief is the price we pay for love, and i would pay for it

life is too short to not love

i wish i could spend these 100 days with you. by the time i get to your age, i hope i can present this list to the people i love. so that they know, i have been loved

[netsumu]

grief.

if you find the talk about grief as something repetitive, i hope you can take a second out of that thought to think about those experiencing it.

and just like everyone else, i used to think the same way. i always thought you would never leave, i never had that fear in me like our relatives because i truly believed you were strong enough to shoulder the burden.

i failed to realize you were already sinking with it, finally accepting it as a part of you and even letting your body become home to it.

i was never afraid of death, forgetting the fact that the statement, that lack of fear only applied to my death and not to anyone else's.

but it happened, and there was nothing i could do about it. all i can do is cry, regret, deny, remember, and repeat.

cry.

you have made the strongest walls break. it was the first time in my life, i have saw my father pathetically joke in attempt to cure his heart. the heart that deep down knows that one day you will leave and it seems to be soon.

i have never seen your son wail so horribly, longing for you to hold him once more. it was a sight i never want to see.

and i never imagined myself to cry this bad. i thought that by a month, i will get stronger. but i was wrong, it has been over a month and all i learned was how to create a better facade.

i learned that you somewhat became a taboo conversation. i hate bringing you up because i know the dam we built will break once more. i wished i could be silent about it, but this was the first time i felt so lonely to the point where i want to be loud.

regret.

i'm sorry. i'm sorry that i have only noticed how dependent i have been to you after you passed. i'm sorry that the only time i brought you flowers was when you laid lifeless before me.

i wish you were still here. even whilst doing mundane activities, i still act as if you exist although quietly. i wonder what it would be like if you were still here during lazy sunday mornings. would you have woke me up or would you have cooked for me?

and then the guilt hits harder than a bullet. it comes swiftly like the wind into my hollow heart, and leaves a stain that i do not know how to erase.

but i don't think i ever want to erase the stain. i don't think i ever want to shoo away this feeling because this is all i have of you. this is all the love i couldn't express and all the love you deserved.

deny.

this is the worst part. the part i despise the most because it makes me feel so childish and immature. yes, this part lets me dream and hope and wish, but this part erases all rationality i have.

it feels like clinging onto a drug, an unhealthy addiction. it feels like shying away from medicine, so bitter and untasteful, even though i know it's good for me.

now i realized why this is the first stage of grief. because it traps you in the cycle, it's what keeps you going when you ruminate. and i hate how my heart (and brain) still thinks of you as a breathing human to this day. it's as if you're just on a long trip far away to cure this disease.

funny enough, i never once blamed this disease. i thought anger would spur but denial came instead, the one i least expected. perhaps because it was easier for me to create a happy life you exist compared to acknowledging the pain of your death and releasing it in the form of anger.

remember.

i hated myself for slowly forgetting. i forgot what your warmth felt like, what you sound like, and what you look like. it has become a distorted image, filled with splashes of paint (my attempt of trying to bring you back to life in my memory).

regardless, i am happy i still remembered what you made me feel. i remembered what you said and did. i hang on to that sliver of memory, perhaps too tight because i scramble panically when i slowly forget.

sleepless nights are a norm because i try so hard to remember when my days are so cramped i forget to mourn you. would you hate me if i forgot? would you hate me if i was happy?

and every once in a while, reality slaps me in the face, reminding me that you are no longer alive. in those times, i remember your last moments because i was there. i was there when your brothers prayed so hard and the room was silent. i was there when the doctors came and when the churches, too.

it felt like i was the only one that held the secret key. but it was now a burden, one that kept reminding me that you are 6 feet below me and no longer breathing, reminding me that you are dead.

repeat.

"life can only be lived once it tastes all the flavors of death"

that was a quote i made long ago, when you are still asleep on your bed and not in the casket. regardless of your existence physically, you will always leave an aftertaste in my mouth. i call it grief, but i know it has been love all along.

#grief

[netsumu]

my love turns to anger. it rushes like blood and spills on my tongue. my sword have slained countless enemies that all i remember is how to suffocate a life to death.

i envy those who love. the sweet ones that taste like honey, the ones people protect. i can assure you, i have tried to be like one. but my brain was wired to do one thing, fight.

the scars tells my story and the sword holds my name. i am your shield and armor, i am the blade you carry. but when i rust and when i break, when i dent and when i ache, who do i go to.

who will fight for me?

who will stand in the frontlines when i cannot

i am a soldier with a furious heart. i was made for love but i was never taught how to love. passion is who i am but people fear the person i can't control.

they seek me for protection but cower in fear when i profess my undying love. it is never hard for me to fight my battles, to love the war.

so why is it so hard for you to love me?

[netsumu]

atlantis

when i leave, return me to the ocean

the blue hues were the core of my body

it lives through my veins

and i can still remember how the siren began

drunk on the saltwater, stuck on the seabed

there was only me, and the ocean

a place where the waters are cold and sunlight is a mirage

my flesh finds comfort within the corals and the coastals

it was a solitary bliss, a never-ending wave of hope

the ocean depths could not go any deeper

let me stay under the waters,

let the shores speak of my story

though death feels more serene

and the thought of hell feels more like endorphins,

don't leave me with half a heart that still craves for life

don't leave me with half a soul that still craves for love

[netsumu]

this is a story i would only entrust to the owner of my heart, you.

you have not a heart of gold, nor a heart of steel. you have the heart of an ocean, so gentle and filled with the earth's love.

you have turbulences but i would gladly swim across just to be within your love. you are wide and you do not belong to me.

i can never call you mine, and i might not love you the way you wished to be loved. in the meantime, i will protect you until they come.

i will protect you until the one that you'd gladly follow exists within us. i will protect you until they can love you the way you wished to be love.

there was never hope for us, for me. i knew that but the heart can never deny what it wishes for. and i wish for you. so please, give me closure and let me swim within your remaining love.

though if you decided then erasing me from your life was the best decision, i could never do the same. for you are the muse of my paintings, the one i think of when they say love. you are the ocean, my one true love.

[netsumu]

i have no need for one who kisses my scars, i need one who would kiss my wounds with band-aid

[netsumu]

writing masterlist

indonesia;

page 1

english;

page 1

page 2

page 3

[netsumu]

it has been years since i last remembered your smile. i thought it was long lost, swept into the depths of the ocean. the memories have long faded, now lost together with the stars.

but when i saw your gleaming eyes and felt your warm fingertips, i was once more reminded of the reasons i fell in love with you. it wasn't a sweet glimpse, it was a long bittersweet trip down memory lane.

my heart melted and you had me within your hold again. i don't think i'll escape and neither will i do so willingly. all i can do is stare outside the windows of your hearts, envious of how people could love so freely.

[netsumu]

you are the star of a show i call love

[netsumu]

and i will plant kisses across your lovely face when the moon rises

then you will leave when the sun wakes up, knowing that you couldn't do the same to me

[netsumu]

gonna change my divider