RAMADAN KAREEM EVERYONE 🫶🫶🫶

reminder that "i don't understand politics" or "i don't wanna get into political stuff" is an excuse to not support Gaza. It is simple. There's a genocide happening and Isr*el is doing it. It is simple for even a child to understand. SUPPORT GAZA. FREE PALESTINE.

✩•̩̩͙*˚ THORNS– GETO SUGURU.

summary : you knew you were doomed since he first smiled at you.

You knew you were doomed since he first smiled at you.

You had met at a little coffee shop, the kind of place where the barista knew your order by heart. You’d discovered this little haven of peace when you were in college, and since then, it had been the only constant in your life.

And then he had shown up, turning everything upside down and changing your whole world for the worse and for the better.

Suguru was the embodiment of enigma and allure, he had been since you first laid eyes on him, like a riddle you longed to solve. That day, he came and asked if he could sit across from you as there was no other seat available, and you agreed with a smile, your heart fluttering as he grinned in return. 

Going back, you could have sworn the Café had been pretty calm, that day.

The first petal slipped from your lips one evening when you arranged to meet at a cozy jazz bar in town that he particularly liked. Before you met him, you had never been much for jazz yourself, but you could now give an hour-long lecture on the spot if someone asked you to. Your eyes were on him as he talked about a book he had recently read with passion. You had always liked the way he delved into his interests, the way his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and the way he furrowed his brows when he playfully poked fun at the outlandish theories he had heard a few days prior, and formulated his own to emphasize the absurdity of some of them – and you’d never tell him, but his were often even more absurd than the ones he liked to poke fun at. The conversation went effortlessly, but as he reached across the table, leaning in close enough to remove a stray eyelash that had caught on your cheek, you felt it catch in your throat, just begging to crawl out and make itself known.

You swallowed it without a second thought, a smile gracing your lips as he made a joke you didn’t hear, his eyes locked onto yours, a warm, gentle light in their chocolate depths. You remembered how he’d noticed your mind had been somewhere else like it often was when you were with him, and he’d laughed, the noise being music to your ears.

He’d always loved jazz more than any other genre. As for yourself, you’d always found solace in the melodious timbre of his voice, a preference that held much more significance in your heart than any other music.

You dug your fingernails into your palms to direct the pain elsewhere, a soft laugh leaving your lips as he started telling you about the time his white-haired friend had almost burned his apartment down.

At first, it had been a mere tickle in the back of your throat, a subtle reminder of the love that could never be. You would always brush it off, finding all kinds of excuses as Suguru looked at you with worried eyes, and asked you if you were okay. However, as the days turned into weeks and months, the illness began to flourish within you. What had begun with you occasionally coughing up a petal or two when you thought he wasn’t looking became full-blown crises that even made it difficult for you to breathe.

By this time, you had already figured out what was causing your suffering.

Hanahaki. Of course.

He could never have loved you.

You thought that deep down, you had always known that you loved him, from the moment he’d asked if he could sit with you, when the café had definitely been practically empty.

It’d just taken a while for your mind to realize it, when your heart had always known. Then again, you didn’t want to change anything about your relationship, because you were content with what you had. So what if he sometimes met with other people, what if he spent the night with them, doted on them and asked you for advice? In the end, he always came back to you.

You didn’t need him to love you back, to cherish you like you cherished him, to see you and only you, to be the only person he’d want to touch and taste and worship– 

Until you did.

And yet, you could never tell him, burden him with your truth. He was too beautiful to have worry marring his delicate features, too precious to bear what was your pain and only yours. He had a soft heart, and you knew that if he ever learned of your predicament, he would never forgive himself, knowing he could have done something, anything, to save you.

But you couldn’t be saved, you couldn’t be helped. That love was too rooted in your heart to ever be unearthed. And deep down, you knew you didn’t want it to be. He had become a part of you and to give him up would also mean giving up a piece of your heart.

Somewhere along the way, you’d learned to live with it, knowing exactly when you’d need to excuse yourself to the bathroom to spit out what had first been petals, then had developed into whole flowers, and then into stems. Eventually, the thorns began to grow, causing you to start coughing out blood, requiring you to always have tissues at hand in case Suguru would ask questions. He was too clever not to notice, so you eventually started to avoid him on the days you felt worse than usual, the ones that would have you glued to bed, panting.

It was Shoko who had first figured out what you were going through, and how could she not? Your friend was a doctor, a doctor who had immediately called you stupid for not consulting her on the matter. She’d urged you to tell him, practically begging for you to come forward and stop this madness.

In hindsight, maybe she had been right. Perhaps you should have told him everything, to spare yourself from this situation. You closed your eyes in regret. 

What was supposed to be a simple movie night with Suguru, like you had every Friday, had just taken a completely different turn. Despite the pain you felt, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for what you were about to put him through. You’d been sitting on his couch as you two watched one of your favorite movies, because it had been your turn to pick, and he must have been starting to feel a bit tired, because he suddenly let out a small yawn, before gently resting his head on your shoulder. Feeling the weight on you, you’d turned your head and had found him already looking at you, a cheeky smile on his lips, before redirecting his gaze back to the movie.

It had been innocent on his end, but you were already too far gone. Your heart hadn’t been able to handle it, and you had to come up with an excuse to rush to the bathroom as soon as you felt it. This excruciating pain shooting through you, a pain so strong and sharp you didn’t even have time to close the door behind you before you’d collapsed on the cold floor of his bathroom. 

Pain clawed at your heart as you felt the thorns bore into your insides, your face contorting in hurt. Your breathing was frantic, your eyes glazed over and filled with unshed tears as you desperately gasped for air.

One minute you were lying on the ground alone, and the next you heard him rushing to you, cursing as he discovered you lying in a sea of petals in agony.

You tried to speak, but your voice came out hoarse and strained, the thorns piercing your throat.

“Don’t speak, you’re only going to hurt yourself more.” He murmured softly as he cradled you in his lap, one hand holding the back of your head as his eyes searched yours.

“How… Why didn’t you tell me you were hurting so badly?” His voice broke as he tried to comprehend the situation, the shock of seeing your body almost passed out on his floor mixed with the realization you’d been hiding your suffering from him for months. He’d immediately figured it out when his gaze had fallen on the bloody petals that now covered his bathroom. “I could have helped. I could have saved you.”

“Now you know that’s not true, I’m stubborn and you know that.” You laughed, your chest tightening and heaving painfully. You smiled sadly, placing a hand on Suguru’s cheek to cradle his face. In a heartbeat, he covered it with his own, intertwining your fingers and pressing your joined hands to his cheek.

“Love, Suguru, is a disease with no cure. I couldn’t save myself from it any more than you could have.” You managed a weak smile, and he watched in despair as the light slowly disappeared from your eyes, your hand suddenly laying limp and cold on his cheek.

He felt a violent pang in his chest.

He’d been too late to save you.

His slender hands tenderly rested on your cheek, while his fingers frantically swiped at your lips to wipe away the blood you’d coughed. Suguru laughed in disbelief, eyes crazed as his mind didn’t seem to process you weren’t just playing a trick on him, fooling him into believing you were no longer there when you had just been making fun of a stupid romcom character together.

When did it all go wrong? Why hadn't he noticed the spiral you'd lost yourself into, when all of this could have been resolved with just a few, simple words?

The man exhaled a shaky breath, his eyes still wide with shock. The pain in his chest grew unbearable, as if a thousand needles had suddenly pierced his heart, and he gasped, clutching his chest. His eyes shut tight as he started coughing uncontrollably, the pain blinding him momentarily.

When Suguru finally opened his eyes, they fell on a single delicate petal, painted crimson.

probably the single most beautiful art by fetchart.ca

Cigarettes After Sex

Just Gojo waking up to an empty bed after having a steamy night with you, he whines and searches for the spot you should be sleeping on only for his hand to meet with silky white sheets. His nose takes notice of the lingering smell of nicotine in the air, nose twitching and scrunching up with dislike which causes him to vocally whine, hoping to get your attention so you can join him in bed (after brushing your teeth and changing your clothes of course, cuz he's not a fan of the smell). After multiple attempts of exaggerated huffs and puffs and small calls of 'baby' s. The handsome man-child finally makes an effort to turn his face towards the balcony, his shiny azul capri eyes meeting your back, eyes slowly trailing up from your thighs towards your head (you are wearing his white shirt which exposes the fat of your thighs to his hungry eyes) He giggles and bites his lips, trying to contain his excitement. You are here with him, in your shared apartment. Watching the city with a cigarette in your hand while the marks he left sits prettily on your canvas-like skin. It makes him happy, feels like he owns every special thing about you, he kicks the covers on him with a groan and slowly waddles over to you while scratching that one part at the back of his head, white long fingers checking if his undercut got longer, it's been 2 weeks since he got them trimmed. He slowly slides the glass door open, causing you to turn and give him a "morning" smile. "Come back to bed baby~" He whines and slowly circles his arms around your waist while dramatically dropping his head on your shoulder, his nose making contact with that one spot on your neck, causing you to twitch and giggle in return.