#are you loved? hopefully 😭😭

[doukeshi-kun]

I no longer know who I am. I keep asking myself, “Who are you? What is your name? Are you in love, and if so, with whom? Are you loved, and if so, by whom?”

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

IF YOU ASK ME TO LEAVE, I’LL STAY FOREVER ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.

word count; 10.8k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!

a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all

you’ve never seen satoru like this before.

head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.

it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.

he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.

”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”

unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.

”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”

satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.

you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters. 

but you’ve never seen him like this.

(and it makes you terribly anxious.)

”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”

you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind. 

he looks so small.

this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.

you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.

a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis. 

and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.

my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?

give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3

moron.

he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.

moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.

and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick. 

but he just won’t listen.

”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”

”satoru.”

there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality. 

and it makes him quiet down.

(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)

as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.

but most of all, you’re worried.

”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”

”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness. 

but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.

so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby. 

for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him. 

so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.

but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.

you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.

stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.

satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.

so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.

satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.

(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)

he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.

and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.

it doesn’t feel like satoru at all. 

his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.

there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could. 

something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.

it only makes you worry more.

luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.

you just want to give some of it back.

satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face. 

that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.

but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little. 

still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it. 

all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.

(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.) 

and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.

but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.

two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts. 

you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.

it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.

”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.” 

your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.

but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.

”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”

”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens. 

“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”

but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.

”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”

”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.” 

a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.

satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.

taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.

gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”

there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.

but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.

”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”

another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck. 

he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.

so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.

”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?” 

a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response. 

when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”

this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever. 

your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second. 

”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.

to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.  

his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.

”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”

using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.

”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”

he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure. 

”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”

once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.

”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”

silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue. 

satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.

he wants to be good for you, though.

so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”

the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much. 

”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”

”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry. 

”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”

he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips. 

”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”

as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.

(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)

the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around. 

yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state. 

satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.

”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”

”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”

for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words? 

as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.

and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.

you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.

”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”

satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.

”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face, and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.

”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting. ”… satoru.”

he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore. 

he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”

they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time. 

but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. the memory of a certain boy, of better times. 

(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)

you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”

a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, some way, you manage to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.

the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in. 

”what did i do to deserve you…?”

you blink. a moment passes.

then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.

a chuckle of your own drips into the air, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.

”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more. 

it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly. 

”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”

and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his. 

so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.

needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking for it himself?

you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further. 

you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms. 

you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days. 

before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.

stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.

when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.

it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.

still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.

”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”

a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep. 

”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”

”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”

you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”

”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.

”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”

another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.

”it’s only four, satoru.”

”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”

”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”

”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”

his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand. 

it’s significantly less scalding, now. 

you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”

satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”

”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”

”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”

”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”

”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”

”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”

”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”

a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”

satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.

”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”

another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”

”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”

”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”

”hehe.”

a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.

”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”

you blink. once, then twice.

”… satoru.”

”yeah? what’s up?”

you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”

this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.

”huh? why not?”

”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”

”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”

you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”

”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”

”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”

”but —”

”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”

”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”

you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.

”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”

”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”

you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”

”your baby.”

another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.

“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”

satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you’re not looking.

but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.

(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)

so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation. 

”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”

”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”

”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”

a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”

satoru is silent, for a while.

”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”

”haah. okay, good —”

”however!” 

you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”

you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.” 

leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious. 

a tilt of your head. 

”… but you’re sick.”

”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”

another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.

”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”

in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.

but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?” 

”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days. 

”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”

you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy. 

”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”

satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!” 

his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”

”i’m not!”

”you couldn’t even taste it.”

”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”

you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”

satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.

”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”

you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe. 

as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”

after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.

”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”

”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.” 

you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”

”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”

”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”

”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?” 

“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”

sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. you won’t give him the satisfaction.

when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.

satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.

you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.

so you opt to indulge him.

”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”

you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”

”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”

with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.

”you’re good.”

”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”

”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”

”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”

he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.

”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.” 

”you sure?”

”a hundred percent.”

”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”

”of course.”

”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.

”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.” 

satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.

”your room is very like you.”

it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.

”… oh? how so?”

“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”

satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk. 

”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”

he closes his eyes.

there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.

you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.

”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”

a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”

and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”

he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.

”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”

the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.

you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.

you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.

”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.

”… you can.”

he blinks. still smiling.

”stay forever, i mean.”

you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.

this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.

”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”

you reach something. 

you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —

a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.

(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)

…

satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”

”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”

he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.

satoru doesn’t get sick often.

his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.

it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.

but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.

yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick. 

yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.

you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?

”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.

”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.

”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”

for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.

”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest. 

”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”

satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be. 

even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today. 

if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.

living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually. 

the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.

you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.

maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.

[tinyfantasminha]

I don't want to keep clogging my blog with vent posts but uh... I guess this is a more general concern/observation

But it's getting real hard to stay motivated in fandom spaces when there's little compensation, and annoying occurrences are more frequent than good ones.

Mainly there's been less engagement/people showing interest in creators and their art (such as sending asks, making comments and reblogging with tags) and MORE parasocial interactions. This goes for both artists and writers.

Over this year I've noticed a vast disinterest within my public in general. Asks about ocs, my art, or just nice simple comments of ''I love your art'' has been getting more and more scarce. My follower number is bigger than 2-3 years ago sure and I get more likes on my posts but they are feeling more like just numbers and statistics than actual people who supposedly like my stuff.

And while people being parasocial with creators has always been a thing, I feel like it's gotten way worse... in general? People sending personal pictures out of the blue in hopes of being validated, unwanted psychological advice or assumptions about the creator without any established connection first ( <- these happened to me in the same week.) ventdump, just insensitive/lacking of common sense comments in general, unreasonable demands (mostly with writers)... I wondered at first if it was just me, but a handful of mutuals/acquaintances who are artists and writers seems to be going through it as well.

It's annoying. It's tough. It's getting exhausting. Creators pour so much of themselves into their work—countless hours, effort, and passion, all to share something meaningful or entertaining with others (and for FREE) The LEAST anyone can do is show respect, even if opinions differ. When a writer posts a fanfic, don't just say ''omg post next chapter!'', when an artist posts a drawing of their favorite character, don't just say ''omg draw (character) next!'' as if they're faceless content machines that are expected to churn out more '''content''' for you without acknowledgment, encouragement, or appreciation.

''I want to support creators but I don't know what to say and I feel intimidated by their talent so I just lurk silently :((('' I swear to you, no creator (at least not the majority) is making up an intimidating persona to discourage you from interacting with them. They WANT your comments. A single ''I love your art/writing/videos'' or even something as silly as ''I want to eat your art'' is enough to keep a creator sighing dreamily for WEEKS. It doesn't have to be deep! It's heartfelt and that's what it matters!! (Just remember to keep it relevant and thoughtful... It takes just a bit of common sense NOT to comment things like ''this looks like (another character)'' or ''this but with (another unrelated ship/character/show)''. No one wants to hear comparisons or unrelated ideas when they’ve poured their soul into something.)

In fact, the ''I like your art but I think you're intimidating'' feels more hurtful than flattering. It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, acting wrong. 💀

If you love that fanfic that changed your brain psyche forever and want to gush about it, go tell the writer. If you loved so much a piece of art that you saved it a million times in your phone and can't stop thinking about it, go tell the artist. Push away the ''they probably won't care about my comment/it won't make a difference'' thoughts. DO IT NOW. You won't know when they might go inactive forever or deactivate. You can't know if that is the last piece they will ever post. Make sure you show appreciation to creators NOW, while they are still here. While they're still not being replaced by AI.

[myokk]

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

from my oneshot🫶🫶🫶

I just really wanted to draw these two idiots😭💘

[lotus-pear]

finally started p5 royal ‼️‼️‼️‼️

expect some royal trio art soon they are my dearly beloveds (minus akechi i hope he dies in this reality too)

[deathshallbethelastenemy]

something's made your eyes go cold (6)

TEEN!gojo x FEM!reader but mostly TEEN!geto x FEM!reader (platonic) - soulmate AU

TW⚠️: geto suguru defects soooo be warned, reader is not a sorcerer, geto is beyond mean, angst/hurt, gojo does not show up at the end, friends to enemies, mentions of sex, and loss of virginity off screen (from gojoxreader)

a/n: special chapter for my fav criminal💜 this is not proofread!!!!!

something's gone terribly wrong

Geto Suguru appreciated Satoru's soulmate, besides him, his best friend would have another constant in his life. Someone else who would care for him unconditionally, and just like Suguru vowed to protect Satoru - he vowed to protect her. He was strong after all, and the strong must protect the weak.

When Satoru wasn't there, it was Suguru who would keep her safe from curses; curses that reared their ugly heads when Satoru wasn't around. They were far more daring when she was alone, even if Suguru was with her. He was nowhere near as fearsome as his best friend, but he handled the curses just fine without him.

Let the curses underestimate him, it made them easier to deal with, easier to keep her safe from harm.

If Gojo Satoru was on a mission and Suguru was still in the city, then he would routinely check up on her - Satoru couldn't warp at long distances yet, so if anything happened to her, he would not make it in time, so Suguru took it upon himself to be her protector. She needed it and Satoru needed her, and Suguru cared for them both deeply.

Sept. 19, 2006

' ' it's getting dark and it's all so quiet ' '

A curse tried to latch itself onto her when Satoru was cities away on mission, Suguru exorcised it expertly, with her back turned to him without even realizing she was ever in danger.

A soft smile graced his lips, "Everything alright?"

She jumped at his gentle voice, not realizing he was behind her, "Ah, Geto," she returned his gentle smile, "I didn't see you there. I'm alright, you?"

"I'm doing fine," Suguru looked up at the cloudy sky, "Come on, it looks like it's gonna rain. I'll walk you home."

The walk was full of light and awkward chit chat, despite Suguru's best efforts to be friendly. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised, they had only met a couple of times; he supposed it would take time for her to warm up to him, at least she wasn't given him the cold shoulder like had been to Satoru. Suguru never put in a good word in for his best friend, he had said awful things about her - Satoru deserved her silent treatment.

Suguru wasn't too worried about it though. They were soulmates and while he didn't understand it, he had always admired it. He was even proud of Satoru for discarding his old and stupid opinions of her and actually putting in work to try and win her over.

"Thank you, Geto," She awkwardly waved goodbye to him when they arrived outside her family's bakery.

Suguru only smiled, "No problem."

He turned to leave and scrunched his nose up the gray sky. He was going to get caught in the rain for sure.

Oh well, "See ya."

Suguru's phone buzzed in his pockets:

Gojo.S: thank you :)

The shops bell chimed, and then, chimes again, and she yelled for him.

Suguru tilted his towards her, half-shocked, she had never called out to him before, but there she was with her hands outstretched towards him - a clear plastic umbrella and a styrofoam to go box.

Suguru gingerly took them from her hands, "Thank you."

Her cheeks were slightly pink when their hands brushed, "It's the least I could do. Thank you again for walking me home."

With that, he left with the protection of the umbrella from the rain and hot pastry warming up his hand.

His phone buzzed again:

Gojo.S: no way, she likes you more than me, right???

Gojo.S: I'll fight you >:( don't think that I won't

Suguru chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Geto.S: guess that means she has better taste than I thought

A flurry of rushed texts blew up his phone - worth it.

Nov. 28, 2006

' ' i thought i had you figured out ' '

A text had woken him up in the morning. Suguru was expecting it to be Satoru, sending him photos of his lastest mission away from Tokyo, but no, it was ______.

____._: sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but do you know what sweets are satoru's favorites and his favorite flavored cake???

____._: he never says he just eats anything sweet

That certainly sounded like Satoru.

Suguru yawned as he typed out:

Geto.S: He's a glutton

Geto.S: I'm sure anything will be fine but he does prefer kikufuku as for the cake - angel cake seems to be the best option

He rubbed his eyes and slid his phone closed, he needed to change into his uniform - wait... no, he needed to shower first.

His phone buzzed in his night stand. He gave it a quick look over, before he ridded himself of his clothes and hopped in the shower:

____._: thank you!!!! I owe you big time :D

____._: you like soba right?? My treat!

Suguru was glad, she felt like she could rely on him. He wanted to be relied on, if she relied on him, the easier it was to keep her safe from anything that tried to grab her in the darkness.

There had been too many close calls and it all reminded him of - No, she was not Riko. Suguru would not make the same mistakes.

When he got out of the shower and changed, he texted her back.

Geto.S: We can go shopping together

Geto.S: Are you free at 4:15?

Thirty minutes later she texted back:

____._: yep, where do you wanna meet?

Geto.S: I'll meet you at your school

Geto.S: We'll leave from there

____._: See you then :D

Suguru was right on time waiting outside of her school gates. He kept his eyes trained on curses energy residuals, and the curse dwelling on at the school - none of them were powerful, none of them posed a real threat to anyone.

Good, he could rest easy for now.

A bag slung around her shoulder, she enthusiastically waved at him as she ran up to him with a bright smile quirking her lips up, "Geto!"

Suguru's smile was as it always was soft, but this time he wasn't tip-toeing around her, afraid he would scare her away.

They were friends.

Of course, he kept things from her like the curses that tried to hurt her, but so did Satoru, but he supposed, Satoru didn't need to - nothing dared to touch her while he was around her. She couldn't even see them, so Suguru didn't feel the need to worry her about it, especially when he would protect her from it. She was already worried about Satoru as it was, no point in adding something else on to the list.

She chewed on her lip, "His mission isn't too dangerous is it?"

Suguru placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "No, he will be back in two days tops."

Still, she closed her eyes to check on him. He didn't blame her if he had felt Satoru die, he would check on him all the time.

She quickly blushed in embarrassment when she realized Suguru was watching, "I'm not a stalker -"

Suguru laughed.

Her cheeks burned into darker and brighter shade of red, "Don't laugh at me! I'm just -"

"Worried?" He chuckled out, "Come on, worry wart. If I remember correctly you owe me a soba."

Today, a curse user tried to sneak up behind her. To take her or kill her, Suguru didn't know. Not that it mattered, he pummeled him into a bloody pulp and called a window to take him back to jujutsu tech where he would wait trial by the higher ups.

Execution, no doubt. Suguru didn't care that's what the curse user gets for trying to pick on the weak, and on his best friend's soulmate no less. If anything, Suguru considered him lucky - it would've gone worse for him if Satoru had been the one to catch him. Forget about being beatened to a bloody pulp, imagine getting erased with a shot of hollow purple? Very lucky.

"Geto," she called out to him as she showed him a shirt, "what about this one?"

Suguru pocketed his bruised knuckles, "Yeah, he'll like that one."

She cheerfully skipped to the cash register and waited for the man to ring her up.

Suguru's eyes narrowed at the man, he seemed normal, but something was bothering him. Suguru was behind her in a few quick steps, his face seemingly expressionless when he took the bag from the clerks hand, before she could even raise her hand to grab it for herself.

The clerk waved them off as both teenagers said thank you, but Suguru lagged slightly behind her with his hand on the small of her back, keeping his senses trained on the clerk until they were at a safe distance, but then he saw a woman standing ominously a little ways away from them. A glance behind him and he saw the store clerk - shit. This was fine, nothing he couldn't handle, but his friend would no longer be blissfully ignorant about the dangers that were lurking around her.

"Yo!"

Suguru's shoulders visibly relaxed. The grip on her waist loosened as he waved at Gojo Satoru. The girl's smile widened into something more joyful as she wrapped her arms around Satoru's torso, pulling him into a warm hug.

Satoru rested his head on top of hers as he always did now and only kept one arm around her, but still hugged her close to his chest.

"You're back early," Suguru raised his fist and Satoru fist bumped him in greeting.

Satoru grinned, "It was easy peasy."

She peered her head up from his chest with the warmest smile, "So you're not hurt?"

"Nah," Satoru placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, "nothing can touch me."

But Suguru was the flicker in his best friend's eyes, not much concern for himself, but for her, and Suguru knew why Satoru had come back early and why he had no doubt finished his mission as quickly as possible; Satoru had seen the store clerk for what he truly was through her eyes.

Suguru remembered the time, he had asked Satoru, if closing his eyes would leave him vulnerable. Satoru had smirked and smugly said:

"Nope, my six eyes work just fine. It just takes a little more focus."

Satoru's smugness was all Suguru needed to know that it took no effort at all to do what he does when he looks through her eyes, especially when he does it constantly.

Suguru casted his gaze back in front of him, the woman was gone and he could no longer sense the store clerk.

Of course, they were gone. One thing was fighting Geto Suguru, it was another fighting Gojo Satoru.

She tip-toed and kissed Satoru's cheek.

Suguru smirked, "I thought you two weren't dating?"

She turned pink, "We're not."

"Yet," Satoru added with a smug smile.

After they dropped her off home and Satoru begrudgingly let her go, (Suguru didn't know why he was pouting so much seeing as he was most likely going to see her tonight) Satoru pout widened into a grin.

"I have a plan."

Suguru let out a hearty laugh when he explained what his plan was - Operation: Love Quest.

Oh, he couldn't wait to tell Shoko.

Feb. 12, 2007

' ' i have known it all this time ' '

Valentine's Day was approaching and Suguru was now a victim of Satoru's incessant shopping sprees. Nothing was too much for his soulmate, he needed to get her everything.

Flowers (she liked pink peonies the most, Suguru learned recently), chocolates, sweets, dresses, jewelry, more sweets, and god knew what else.

"You've gotten her enough," Suguru yawned sleepily, "don't you think?"

Satoru was looking at a simple princess cut diamond ring, scratching his head.

Suguru playfully shoved him, "And it's a little too soon for an engagement ring."

Satoru tilted his head toward him with a frown and was slightly offended, "I would never get her a 0.10 carat diamond for an engagement ring," he grumbled, "It's far too small."

Suguru leaned against the glass counter, "I get this is your Valentine's with her, but you're over doing it just get her something you know she'll like."

"What type of girl doesn't like diamonds?"

"The type that'll feel bad when you get her a mountain of presents, when she only got you like three." Suguru said, "Not everyone has generational wealth to sustain them."

Satoru's pointed look softened as he smiled widely, "She got me three?"

Shit, Suguru wasn't supposed to tell him, "Yes, and I'm not telling you more."

"That must mean she really likes me, huh," Satoru's eyes glittered brighter than any precious stone in the store, "as the best boyfriend ever I have to at least get her twice as that."

"You already have." Suguru sighed, "Triple, I'd say."

Satoru ignored him, "Yo, sir! Sir! Sir!" He tapped the glass annoyingly, "That one!"

The jeweler smiled, "What size?"

"Shit, I don't know her ring size."

Satoru turned Suguru and before he could say anything, Suguru had slid his phone open and called her.

She answered at the second ring, "What's up?"

"You free right now?"

"Yeah."

Satoru started whispering, "Don't tell her to meet you here."

Suguru pushed his face away from his and gave her a meeting time.

The jeweler gave him a ring size measurer and with that Suguru left to meet her.

When she wasn't looking he would look at her fingers and take out the measure trying to gauge which size it was after careful deliberation, be concluded a size 5.

After an hour or so, she had to leave - something about an essay and homework she had to work on before Valentine's Day.

Suguru sent one of his curses with her to make sure she got home safe.

Satoru berated him when he got back, "What size?"

"Five," Suguru handed the measure back to the jeweler.

"That one," Satoru grinned out and then dragged Suguru to another shop.

It was going to be a long day of shopping again.

Apr. 4, 2007

' ' oh, holding my breath ' '

Shoko had stolen ______ for the day, claiming she needed a break from Satoru.

"You're beyond clingy," Shoko said, "Don't want her breaking up with you because you never gave her space right?"

Satoru's eyes widened, "Did she tell you that?"

Shoko being Shoko, said, "Maybe."

So there Satoru was fighting the urge to call or text his soulmate.

"Shoko was lying, right?" He asked Suguru, "Ain't no way, she wants to break up with me, right?"

Suguru drank his hot tea, "I'm sure she was just joking."

Or maybe she wasn't, but Suguru didn't want to tell Satoru what ______ had told him in private.

It wasn't that she didn't like him anymore, it was the incessant thoughts in her mind. Thoughts she couldn't push away any longer and as much as she cared for Satoru, he would never understand. Suguru would do though, he always understood.

She had been nervous at first, texting him to meet with him privately at a cafe without Satoru knowing, he was out on a mission anyway, he was focusing his six eyes on finding the curse, instead of closing his eyes to see where she was, but in the end, she faced up, after Suguru coaxed it out of her with soft smiles and a promise not to laugh.

"You have to promise again, not to laugh," She said.

He wanted to laugh now, but he knew she would shut down if he did, "I promised already."

"Again."

"Alright," pressed his lips together to keep himself from chuckling, "I promise, will you tell me now?"

She wondered a lot about how she should phrase it. Worthy? Good enough? Holding him back? Which word encapsulated what she felt when she saw a curse through Satoru's eyes, but could never see them on her own.

Worthless was the word she was looking for, she realized that a few weeks ago.

She bit the inside of her cheek, Suguru would for sure tell Satoru, if she started the conversation like this, so instead, she said, "It's not a problem, is it that I'm not a sorcerer," she played with the straw in her drink, "or that I can't see curses - I mean -"

Suguru stopped her before she could get in any farther, "Satoru was an idiot when he said that." Suguru smiled in the way that made everyone feel accepted, "He never meant any of that."

Yes, he did. At the time they both knew that he did, but she didn't say anything.

"Things are different now," Suguru scooted his chair closer to hers, "Satoru cares about you a lot, I know he does." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and rubbed soothing circles on her, "He'd throttle even me if it meant to keep you safe."

And Suguru was proud of him. His best friend was finally turning into the person he knew he could become - he was still annoying and arrogant, but he was no longer cruel and dismissive of others.

She let out a laugh, "I don't think he would go that far."

"I do," Suguru said firmly. "A lot of people can't see curses or jujutsu, it's not something to be ashamed of and Satoru has enough cursed energy and strength for the both of you."

She shook her head, "And when he's not here?" She looked at Suguru, "What then? I'm not stupid, you know, I may not be able to see curses, but I know whenever Satoru shows up randomly or when you show up to walk me all the way home - It's for a reason." She crossed her arms, "Shoko does it too, but she has a better poker face."

Suguru should've known that she knew. It had been months, it would've been odd if she hadn't noticed their overprotectiveness from even Shoko.

"You're our friend, ______," Suguru said, "we just want to make sure you're safe."

"I know. It's just -" She let out a long breath.

"Frustrating?"

She nodded, and then a bashful look, "Promise, you won't tell Satoru?"

Suguru smiled again, "I promise, but I do think you should talk about it with him." He drank some of his tea, "I'm sure he'll listen if it's coming from you."

But until then, Suguru was there to listen. Sometimes all someone needed was a friend.

Satoru's voice brought him back to the present, "She hasn't said anything to you right?"

Suguru rolled his eyes at him, "She's not going to break up with you."

"Did she tell you that?"

"Satoru," Suguru warned, "she's probably just stressed. Exams are coming up, aren't they?"

Satoru nodded, "Yeah..." He pulled out his phone from pocket and flipped it open as a smile graced his lips, "I'll help her study after she's done hanging out with that traitor that should relieve some of her stress."

Suguru doubted that would help since exams weren't what was plaguing her mind, but other more complicated things. If it got too far, he would tell Satoru. He might get punched in the face or a reversal Red shot at him, but it would be for the best.

Jul. 24, 2007

' ' something keeps me holding on to nothing ' '

Satoru had punched him in the face when Suguru told him. All this time Suguru knew why she was acting weird, he had known for months and he hadn't told him. It would've been different if she had told Shoko and Shoko didn't tell him, but Suguru? Suguru who was always supposed to have his back - it was betrayal.

Satoru put up two fingers and almost chanted: Curse Technique Reversal: Red, but stopped himself.

"Is she still talking to you about it?" He gritted out.

"No," Suguru rubbed his swollen cheek, "she wanted to tell you herself, but I think she's scared to bring it up."

Scared? Why would she be scared of bringing something like this up to Satoru? He was her boyfriend, her soulmate - she shouldn't have, had to feel scared to tell him anything. He would have listened, he promised to himself that night when he was all bloody that he would.

"I promised I wouldn't say anything," Suguru said, "but you two do need to talk about it."

Satoru ran his hand through his soft white hair and closed his eyes. He frowned when he saw her writing an essay down on a piece of paper - she was home.

Suguru spoke up again, "Do you want to hit me again?"

Satoru sighed and opened his eyes to look at his best friend, "No," he fixed his glasses, "just don't keep something that important from me again."

Satoru warped away, no doubt to talk to his soulmate. Suguru only hoped he had told him in time, before more damage could be done for his friends.

It was night when Yaga had knocked on Suguru's door.

"Where's Satoru?" Yaga gruffed out, "He hasn't been here all day."

Suguru always covered for him and he wasn't going to stop now, "He went for some sweets, you know how he gets."

Yaga shook his head, not believing a word that came out of Suguru's mouth, but he left anyway.

Suguru looked at his phone and thought about calling Satoru, but shook his head. He probably wasn't coming back til later, so Suguru fell asleep instead.

He woke up at noon with a grinning Satoru at the foot of his bed instead.

Suguru blinked as he assessed him, at least he didn't look heartbroken, instead overjoyed and a little smug. Satoru's snowy white hair was a mess as if someone had raked their hands through it roughly, his glasses were askew, and his lips were swollen and smudged with pink lip gloss smearing across cheek to his neck as his neck had deep red and purple marks that shaped into a heart, and his clothes looked a mess.

Suguru chuckled, "I take it things went well?"

"She said she loves me," Satoru squeaked out in glee.

Suguru pulled his long black hair back, "And?"

Satoru's grin had softened, yet it stayed plastered on his face, "I said I love her too."

Suguru pointed at hickeys that shaped into a heart, "That's all?"

"We had sex," then, Satoru playfully shook his head and sang lowly, "No, we made love."

Suguru almost vomited at that, "Go take a shower lover boy."

Satoru walked backwards as he skipped happily into his dorm room and yelled, "I am a lover boy!"

Sept. 2007

' ' come on, don't leave me like this ' '

She had just finished mopping the bakery's floor when Suguru came in, his long hair was down with only a small bun tying some of the more unruly parts of his hair.

She waved at him, "What's up, Geto?"

His smile wavered when he saw her like this was the first time he had seen her.

"Is something wrong, Geto?"

"Yes actually," Suguru frowned, "I want to talk to you."

She dropped the mop in the bucket and wiped her hands on her apron, "What is it? What happened?"

Maybe, she should text Satoru - No, he was there for her a couple of months ago, she should be here for him now.

"I think you were right before," Suguru pocketed his hands, "about it being a problem - you not being a sorcerer."

"What are you saying?"

Suguru ignored her, "I think you weren't saying the right words before," his eyes told and black, "instead of a problem, I think you meant a pest, a worthless one."

Her eyes widened, "Geto -"

Suguru's eyes hardened into a glare, "Don't interrupt me," he paused for a second like he was about to add something else, but stopped himself, before continuing, "all this time you were worrying that you were holding Satoru back, you were right."

Tears welled in her eyes, "I told you all of that in confidence." She flinched back when Suguru took a step toward her, "You're my friend."

"I was never really your friend," Suguru spat out, "I realized that I only ever really tolerated you for Satoru."

"Stop," she whispered putting her hands up as if she could stop his words from reaching her, "just stop it. Satoru and I talked about this already - he loves me."

She blinked her tears away. If this is how Suguru truly felt, then he wasn't allowed to see her vulnerable, only Satoru and people she trusted were allowed to.

Suguru stalked up to her, until she was backed up against a wall. She quickly flinched to the side when Suguru's hand shot up to the empty space behind her and for a second, she heard something squirming and writhing in his hand.

Suguru gave her one last cold look before purple blood splattered on the walls, "This is the last time I save you, ______."

' ' i can't turn back now, i'm haunted ' '

Gojo: You really hurt her feelings and she's been crying non-stop -

Geto: Womp-Womp

Gojo: Did you just FUCKING say womp-womp?!

@phoenix666stuff @96jnie @mr-underhills-things @whatamidoing @wbad-world @ancientimes @whippedbyikemen @sammyiguess (can't find you sorry) @pumpkindudeishere @witchofthecoffee @arminswifee (another one that cannot be tagged sorry) @weebotaku21 (another one I do not understand why) @nevermoresworld @jjk97091 (cannot tag you sorry) @toshirolovebot @marblesphere @sabo-has-my-heart @laurenzitaa

[rainingcatsandjune]

guy finally becomes a REAL MAN || honey teaches guy how to saw wood

guy design heavily inspired by @pycth your guy is so RAJFSJFBFNFF 🥹🥹🥹 its 100% how i see him

(OG video: unus annus' "Ethan finally becomes a REAL MAN" rip unus annus)

[paper-starz]

You guys want some

Gordon O’Brian????

Ain’t he a silly???

Also Lenard because I love them

[oceans-beloved]

Meme dump yayyy🥳✨️

(off to make more now muhahaha >:3)

[omppupiiras]

saw my queen yesterday ❤️ lady in red <3

[kronosveritas]

Bow chicka bow wow

Fun little Tucker sketch because I haven’t slept in like 3 days and all I can think about is Agent Washington and his Dumbass Boyfriend.

(Lineart version below fold)

I adore him, I would draw him so much more but I cannot for the life of me draw long hair of any sort.

I love Tuckington so much, dude.

(These people keep talking about “the Meta” but have you ever META girl before ahahahahahahahshshhrhdjfjfjfjifkffkf I’m so funny I’m so funny hahhaha if the last season is bad I’m going to shatter like glass)

[imerian]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+˖ St☆r ⁠ boy ˖+ ⁠*ﾟ｡

Casey Stoner collage

Open the cut for more pictures and higher quality scans

I needed to edit this scan together because collage was too big for my scanner but I'm not very skilled at it so i also added original scans so you can try yourself if you want to print it out or use somehow

And the best detail of the whole thing

This is just to show how tedious of the work it was to put all stars on, i needed to use cut up twosided tape to this size so i can stick all of them, even the smallest and it was a bit of nightmare lol

[myokk]

before it felt like a sin, ch. 2

ch.1

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 6900

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: here's chapter 2!! I just wanted to add these amazing beautiful drawings I look back on allllllll the time, by @kay9leo 🥹🫶 I LOVE YOU SO MUCH !!!!! 😙💓😙💓😙💓

I also want to reiterate that this fic is REALLY CANON DIVERGENT!!!!! I will NOT be following the game’s plot at all really with this (it really starts to diverge around chapter 6/7 maybe I don’t remember), and I don’t see Eloise as the game’s MC either.

Things were definitely not going as planned…not that Eloise had really known what to expect. Almost from the moment the portkey had brought her to meet Professor Fig, it seemed like everything had gone from bad to worse.

And it had all started out so well. He had handed her the provisional wand, and upon contact the magic coursing through her had been exhilarating. Finally Eloise was able to experience what she had dreamed of for so long. All too soon, however, she was putting the wand to use in ways she hadn’t imagined. Watching Mr. Ospric die had made her blood run cold but then she didn’t have the luxury of processing the shock as so much was happening at once and there was a dragon and death and then…another portkey? Before she knew it, she was fighting some sort of sentient guardians in some mysterious Gringott’s vault and there was concrete proof of the goblin uprising…it was simply too much to take in at once.

Now, she was standing in front of the ornate entrance to a room Professor Fig had called the “Great Hall”. He checked the pocketwatch inside his robes again, and muttered (more to himself than anything) “hopefully the sorting is still going on…” and then in a louder voice as he glanced at Eloise - “come along then, young Eloise!”

He peered more closely at her then, taking in her pale appearance and added in a kinder tone, “I’m sure you’re hungry. We’ll just head in and get you sorted into your house, and then an early night for the both of us. Don’t worry about the things that were lost in the attack - I’m sure one of your new housemates will share her things with you until they are replaced.”

With that, he pushed open the doors and ushered her in. In any normal circumstances, Eloise was sure that she would have been absolutely in awe of the breathtaking appearance that greeted her. It was simply…for lack of a better word, magical. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky above the castle, stars glimmering through the wispy purple clouds that covered the ceiling. There were thousands of candles floating in the air, illuminating the hall in a soft, golden light.

She couldn’t focus on any of that.

As soon as Fig opened the double doors, the low chatter that filled the Great Hall slowly faded as everyone turned to look at who had entered. Eloise froze. Hundreds of faces all staring at her, filled with curiosity.

Judging her.

They must all know that she was a squib and didn’t actually belong there.

No. She had proved her magical capabilities earlier that day, albeit in a different manner than she had expected. She deserved to be here just as much as they did.

The teacher at the far end of the hall was saying something and the students surrounding her had begun to whisper amongst themselves. There was so much buzzing in her ears that she didn’t hear a word that was said. Then, a familiar voice - how in the world could it still be familiar after so much time? - broke through the fog and her head turned sharply to the side at the noise.

“Eloise?”

Her gaze met familiar hazel eyes as Leo quickly stood up, taking a step towards her before he caught himself and stayed where he was. If the shock hadn’t already been apparent enough in his voice, one look at his expression told Eloise everything. He hadn’t had any idea that she had been accepted to Hogwarts. After she had been burned off of the family tree by her mother, it was like she didn’t exist anymore. Of course he hadn’t known that she would be there.

Leo had changed since Eloise last saw him. Of course he did, she thought to herself. It had been five years, after all. The same unruly black curls, same eyes. And yet…he almost seemed a stranger to her. He was taller, face more angular and defined than it had been at thirteen. Voice deeper. But, the expression of vulnerability and guilt written all over his face was something she recognized well. It was the same expression that he had had the last time he saw her, the face she sometimes saw before falling asleep. Just as quickly as it flashed across his face however, it was gone, hidden behind a stony exterior. His expression hardened and he sat down just as quickly as he had stood up, quickly averting his eyes. The people around him were looking between them curiously, but before Eloise could even begin to process this new situation, she felt a gentle push on her shoulder.

Professor Fig had been talking to her. “…the Sorting Hat. You need to go up and get sorted into your house.”

She looked up at him and realized that he was gesturing to the front of the Great Hall, vaguely recalling how Leo had described the sorting ceremony in his first letter home from Hogwarts. Everyone was still staring.

Well, let them, she thought. Eloise tossed her braid over her shoulder and lifted her head high, straightening her posture in the meantime. Did it matter if everyone was staring at her? She determined that if people were going to be whispering about her, speculating about her, she would give them something to talk about. About the girl who was admitted in her fifth-year at Hogwarts. The girl who surpassed them all.

Eloise shook off Professor Fig’s hand and walked to the raised platform, where there was a stool and a professor waiting with an ancient wizarding hat in her hands. As Eloise sat down, a semicircle of professors behind her and the tables of students in front of her, the hat was placed on top of her head. It was so formless and well-worn that the faded fabric slid over her eyes and she was surrounded by darkness.

Hmm…interesting, a voice purred in her mind. Eloise jumped at the sound. Don’t worry, dear. I won’t hurt you, although I suppose that not everyone would say that. My, my. You have had a rough go of things, haven’t you?

It’s not often I get to sort a new fifth-year student. She realized that it was the hat talking to her. Always much more interesting, you see. The first-years are always fun because I get to see their potential and who they will turn out to be, but even that can be fallible sometimes. People are shaped by their experiences.

An older student, though? Someone closer to the person they will be, with more experiences that have shaped them? Oh yes, these are the ones I like the most.

Wait, thought Eloise. You’ve sorted others like me before?

Oh yes. A pause. The voice purred in her ear. I can see the hunger for knowledge in you. But…Ravenclaw seems too simplistic. Behind the intelligence lies great ambition. A desire to prove yourself. Prove you belong. Yes, you may have had a rough life but you have managed to use what’s around you to your advantage. So, you must be a…

“SLYTHERIN!”

Eloise started at the sudden shout, realizing that it must have been out loud. As the hat was pulled off of her head, she could see the students at the table at the far end of the hall, the one Leo was at, break into furious whispers amongst each other. The teacher with her smiled kindly and pointed Eloise in their direction. “That’s the Slytherin table, dear. Once you sit down, we can begin eating.”

Eloise got up numbly and slowly walked towards the table. The whispering got louder as she neared it, and the students kept shooting her glances. Most seemed simply curious about the new, older student who had just been sorted into Slytherin, but others looked at her with hostility. Two students moved aside and motioned to her.

“Figured you would rather sit with us than the first years.”

The girl who spoke gave her an appraising look, taking in her muggle clothing and mussed-up hair. Eloise sat down next to her, nervously smoothing her hands over her skirt. Now that the sorting was over and she was actually interacting with her future classmates, she felt exhausted and completely unable to keep up her facade of nonchalance.

“I was going to ask if you like quidditch but…judging by your clothes -“

“Gods, Imelda,” came a drawling voice to Eloise’s left. “Can’t you give the poor girl a break? Not even one second at our table and you’re already trying to recruit her for the team.”

The boy who spoke gave an amused look to Imelda before turning to Eloise. “You’ll want to watch out for that one - if she even gets a whiff of the fact you can fly a broom, she’ll be out to recruit -“

“It’s not my fault!” Imelda interrupted forcefully, smacking her hands on the table and leaning over Eloise to talk to him. “Our best players all graduated last year and I have it cut out for me -“

“- you to the Slytherin team,” the boy concluded, ignoring Imelda’s heated protests. She sat back with a huff and crossed her arms. “Just ignore her. It’s what we’ve found works best. I’m Sebastian Sallow and this is Ominis Gaunt. Two people you will actually want to spend time with.”

He stuck his tongue out at Imelda as he held his hand out to Eloise. The boy across from them snickered quietly to himself as he listened to Imelda splutter in denial. Eloise shook Sebastian’s hand hesitantly. “Eloise. And actually,” she added, turning to Imelda, “I do know what quidditch is. Unfortunately, I’ve never ridden a broom though.”

That got Imelda going again, this time about how it was absolutely impossible that someone could know about the existence of quidditch without ever touching a broom. She seemed to be of the opinion that knowing of its existence meant an undying desire to learn how to play. “So you’re not a mudblood, then? Oh, who am I kidding - of course you’re not. We’re in Slytherin, after all. But how…”

Fortunately, food started appearing on the table before Imelda could finish her thought. It was enough to move her attention from Eloise as she began to pile different foods on her plate. To be quite honest, Eloise was relieved. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell others about her circumstances, especially during this first night before she knew anyone. Would they think differently of her if they knew that she had been disowned from her family and presumed a squib?

Who was she kidding? Of course everyone would judge her for that. Besides, she knew she wanted to talk to Leo before revealing anything - maybe he could help her get a feel for how to approach the situation. If he wanted to even associate with her, that is. Once again, the thought passed through her mind that he could have changed through the years, just as she had. Their parents could be quite persuasive, and more often than not the two siblings had learned that it was easier to go along with them than against.

Leo had grown up with the adoration of their parents, showing magical prowess at the young age of three, when his favorite toys started following him around in a little parade. Eloise, on the other hand…as the years passed and she still wasn’t showing signs of anything at all, not even a measly show of a sneeze blowing her away, their parents started working to distance the siblings from each other. It hadn’t been very effective and yet…without her presence, she could see him moving on in his life. Just as she had tried to do.

A sharp poke to her side. Eloise jumped and looked at Sebastian. “Aren’t you going to eat anything? You need to grab the good things before they’re gone - it’s every man out for himself during the feasts.”

She looked around and, sure enough, the food on the plates was steadily going down. It all looked absolutely delicious - mountains of meat, bread, puddings…her stomach growled loudly as she took it all in. Eloise hurriedly started putting the closest food to her on her plate, reaching over to give herself a heaping serving of mashed potatoes on the side. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he replied after swallowing the food he was eating. “I’m sure you’ve had a long day if you arrived that late to the sorting ceremony. As you walked up to the stool, Ominis and I had a bet about which house you would be sorted into. I told him, after my first glance at you, that I could tell you’d be one of us, but unfortunately, he - “

“Hey! I can hear you,” Ominis said from across the table, leaning forward slightly. Eloise realized that he was blind - his eyes had no pupils at all. His gaze was unfocused but his head turned in her direction. He explained, “I could only sense your form as you walked down the Hall. And, for the record, before Sebastian can say otherwise, I said I could tell you would be a Slytherin. Will the blind jokes ever get old?”

“As long as I have breath in my body - hey!”

Ominis had thrown a roll at Sebastian’s head which, surprisingly, hit its mark.

“I might not be able to see what just happened, but I know that I’ve just won,” Ominis said smugly, returning his attention to his plate.

Eloise just sat there, not really knowing how to react. This time, it was Imelda’s turn to say, “just ignore them. Luckily, we won’t need to see much more of them as the feast’s finishing up.” She wrinkled her nose in Sebastian’s direction, a gesture that was swiftly returned. Even though she had just met the three of them, Eloise couldn’t help but feel happy just listening to their back-and-forth. She did feel a twinge of…something, though, knowing that she could have been with them since their first year, if only her magic had shown itself sooner.

Mountains of dessert started to replace the remnants of the dinner: plum pudding, lemon tarts, cakes…it was more dessert in one place than Eloise had ever seen in her life. None of the students held back at all trying to get their favorites, especially if it was at the expense of another. The atmosphere was electric - everyone was excited to be back among their friends and catch up over everything that had happened the summer before, and Eloise was happy to just be among them.

She reached for a lemon tart, and when she looked up, she saw that Leo was staring at her intently. He looked away as soon as they made eye contact, but the moment didn’t go past Imelda’s notice.

“Do you know him?” she asked, nodding towards Leo. Eloise flushed and looked down at her plate, nodding reluctantly. She knew as soon as they went through role call the next day, everyone would know that she was a Babbit.

“Yes, he’s…er -“

Eloise broke off, grabbing the nearest goblet of pumpkin juice and drinking the whole thing in one go. When she came up for air, Imelda was still looking at her expectantly. Eloise took a deep breath and tried continuing, but… “I’m not really sure,” is all that came out of her mouth.

Imelda furrowed her brow, clearly trying to figure out how that answer made sense and Eloise wasn’t about to clarify for her. Although it wouldn’t be long before it got out that they were siblings, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted these new acquaintances to know about her at the moment. She had had enough pitying looks to last her a lifetime, and she just knew that once they found out she had been a squib…

“Hey Sebastian,” a pretty blonde girl said, leaning towards the group. She shot Eloise a curious glance but quickly looked back at her target. “Where’s Anne? Is she still gone this year? What a pity…the two of you are…were…sewn together at the hip and I was looking forward to finally being the one who gets between the two of you this year.” At this, the girls surrounding her started tittering and she flipped her hair over her shoulder and pouted. “I thought there would be more of a challenge. But if you’re going to be the changed Sebastian again this year…”

“Who’s…” Eloise trailed off as she saw Sebastian’s expression. It had changed into something almost unrecognizable - at least, to someone who had only known him for all of forty-five minutes. He was looking at the girl with a mixture of barely-controlled fury and…something else that Eloise couldn’t quite place. She shrank away from him as she took in his stricken expression.

“She’s still sick,” he said shortly as he stood up. His hands bunched into tight fists and his body was shaking. Sebastian quickly turned and stormed down the hall. They all watched him go in silence; once he left, the blonde girl turned to Ominis.

“Gods, what’s his problem? So what if she misses a few days of school?” She looked around at everyone, pouting. “You all know I’m right. Last year he was a mess but he should be getting over it by now.”

“You always speak before thinking, Victoria,” Ominis said tersely, getting up. “One of these days, it’s going to get you in trouble. If you keep this up, when that happens nobody will be around to help you pick up the pieces.” With that, he strode away after Sebastian.

Eloise blinked and looked around. The rest of the students were starting to get up and slowly move towards their respective common rooms having finished their dessert, and the prefects were starting to herd the first-years along. Victoria laughed weakly and turned to her friends, effectively ignoring Eloise and Imelda as if they weren’t there. “I think the summer holidays have made people extra sensitive this year. I honestly don’t know what their problem is.”

“Come on, then,” said Imelda, shooting Victoria a dirty look. “Let’s head to the dorms.”

Eloise stood up and started following Imelda’s lead. She was parting the students with ease as she walked through the crowd. Her strides were so long that Eloise had to half-jog to keep up with her. “Our common room is in the dungeons,” Imelda said, looking over her shoulder at Eloise. “The other houses are creeped out by it, but they haven’t actually seen it. You’ll see.”

Because of how quickly Imelda strode through the corridors and down the stairs, Eloise didn’t have much time to take in the rest of the castle. She did however realize that they were winding through the corridors in such a way that she would be hopelessly lost if Imelda weren’t with her. The two of them arrived at the Slytherin common room well before the other students due to Imelda’s fast pace. As they entered the common room after saying the correct password - basilisk - Eloise couldn’t help but look around in wonder. There was light piano music playing in the background - Chopin, Eloise thought she recognized it from her piano lessons at the muggle school. Even though the overall tones of the place were cool - blues and greens filtering through the tall glass windows and from the lamps, the checkered marble floors and columns giving off an air of cold elegance - the beautiful rugs and happily crackling fires made it all come together and seem oddly cozy. Various tables and desks were scattered around the space, and comfortable looking armchairs and couches crowded around low tables. Eloise could just picture it teeming with students studying after class or hanging out on the weekends. She knew that it was a place that could finally feel like home to her.

“I tried, Ominis,” came a hushed whisper from near the windows. Imelda and Eloise froze at the entrance to the common room and glanced at each other. “I just can’t do it. I know what you and Anne told me but…”

“Sebastian. Anne doesn’t want you to wallow and waste your time here worrying about her. I know that you’re worried for her. I mean, I am too. You know she’s like a sister to me.”

“You have no idea,” Sebastian interrupted fiercely. His back was hunched over and he was holding his face in his hands. “It should have been me. I can’t live with myself. With this guilt.”

“No, you -“ Ominis cut himself off as the sound of the other students filtering in started to fill the room. The boys abruptly sat up straighter, although they didn’t look at each other. Oblivious to the tension between the two, a group of second-years sat on the sofa right next to them, as they excitedly caught up with each other.

“I’ll show you our room,” Imelda said, turning to Eloise. “It gets pretty crazy here the first night back from any holidays, with everyone catching up. I don’t know about you, but I want to get some sleep! Quidditch tryouts are next week and I already know how exhausting it will be.”

Eloise really was exhausted, and nothing sounded better to her than finally going to sleep. The dorms seemed to be set up so that the stairs going up led to the girls’ dormitories, and the ones going down to the boys’. Imelda explained that it was due to the fact that boys weren’t to be trusted, and the stairs would turn into a slide if any boy attempted to go up them. It wasn’t something that Eloise had even considered, due to the fact that she had just come from an all-girls school, but she flushed at the implication.

As they reached the staircase, they almost crashed into Sebastian. Imelda had been marching towards the stairs with a single-minded determination and Sebastian had been heading towards his with just as much purpose.

Eloise bounced off of his shoulder. She grabbed her own, wincing slightly. He was more solid than he looked. He looked blankly at the two girls before shaking his head and realizing where they were. “Gods, I’m so sorry. I’m just -“ he gave his head another little shake and saw that Eloise was holding her shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s fine,” Eloise reassured him. She gave a small smile. “I’ve had worse, it’s really nothing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” interrupted Imelda. She shot Sebastian a concerned look. “Go to bed. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Imelda shook her head sadly and the girls resumed their path. “Poor boy. He hasn’t been the same since the summer after our third year. I mean, he was always kind of obsessive, but in a charming way. He was on the quidditch team with me, and always really determined to be the absolute best, always working hard to show all of the other students they don’t even know half as much as he does. That sort of thing, you know? It’s not like he was insufferable, his charm drew everyone to him.”

She held the door open and Eloise walked in. It was a cozy circular room, with five four-poster beds. A small fire in the middle of the room warmed the whole place up, and Eloise was relieved to see it. When Imelda had told her that their dormitory was in the dungeons, she had immediately pictured a dark, cold, slimy space. Only one of the beds didn’t have trunks placed at its foot, and Eloise went straight to it. Her trunk had been lost in the dragon attack. She was relieved to see a nightgown laid on top of the bed and a pair of green slippers neatly lined up on the floor; she hadn’t been sure what she would wear.

Imelda sat down heavily on the bed next to Eloise’s and started unlacing her boots. She continued talking. “Then, in our fourth year, he comes to school after summer holidays. Alone. He hasn’t been the same since. Nobody’s quite sure what’s going on with his sister, except that it’s bad. She’s not expected to live much longer.”

“Oh my god,” breathed Eloise. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Me neither.” Imelda shook her head. “He got into trouble left and right last year, there were even rumors of a duel…I don’t think there was a single week where he didn’t have detention. I mean, I don’t blame him, but - he was taken off the team! This year he better not, I can’t afford to lose my best beater again.”

The girls continued chattering quietly to themselves about other topics as they got ready for the night. Slipping into their nightgowns, braiding each others’ hair, and, finally, slipping under the freshly turned bed covers. Eloise turned towards Imelda and simply whispered, “thank you.” Although they had just met, Eloise felt certain in the knowledge that she had just made her first friend.

Imelda waved her off. “It’s nothing. Get some sleep, the first day of classes is always overwhelming. I can’t even imagine starting as a fifth-year.”

With that, she rolled over and soon Eloise heard her breathing deepen as she fell asleep. She stared at the canopy covering her bed for what seemed like an eternity. The low murmurs of the other girls as they came in and got ready for bed slowly morphed into drowsy good-nights, until finally the room was silent except for the steady tick of a clock and their breathing.

As tired as she felt, Eloise couldn’t stop the racing of her mind. It felt like the last few days had more action than the entirety of her life. Even though banished had, at the time, been incredibly momentous for her, it paled in comparison to finding out that she actually was a witch and had been admitted to Hogwarts. She had used magic for the first time today. The rush of power that ran through her body when she cast spells was unlike anything else she had ever experienced. It just felt right. Like some part of her that had been hidden away had finally made itself known and she felt whole for the first time. She wondered if everyone else felt that same rush, that same desire to know and master absolutely every aspect of magical knowledge. She had been given a gift that until now had felt like a pathetic little daydream and she wasn’t about to waste it now that she had it.

The clock kept on ticking lazily and still Eloise was awake. She eventually got up and after shrugging on a robe and slipping on the green slippers, headed towards the common room. She and Imelda hadn’t spent much time in it earlier, and she wanted to see it at least once without any people, maybe as a space just for herself.

As it was even later in the night - it must have been around three - the fire had been extinguished and the light filtering through the windows had turned an even deeper shade of emerald green. It covered the mahogany furniture with an eerie light, as if Eloise had stepped into some strange underworld instead of the empty Slytherin common room. She trailed her hand along the velvet back of a sofa, mesmerized by the stark contrast of the green highlights and black shadows as her hand moved. Lazily twirling a globe as she walked past, the room silent except for her muffled footsteps.

It was precisely the silence that absorbed her completely. Being alone had always been her favorite thing; there was just something so special about being the only person in a place, feeling as if you were the only holder of some great secret. Eloise made her way towards the tall glass windows as if in a dream, not really noticing anything of her surroundings and yet taking it all in. The feeling of being there.

When she heard the soft voice she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“You couldn’t sleep either?”

Eloise whirled towards the voice, feeling as if her heart was about to burst through her chest. The student - a male - was sitting by one of the windows. Since the only light source was the windows, his face was entirely shrouded in black. Eloise was suddenly very aware of how indecently she was dressed to be outside of her dormitory. The sudden change from complete, eerie tranquility was shattered and she wrapped her robe more tightly around her, keeping her arms hugged around her body.

“Who -“

The boy straightened up, tilting his head back toward the window and, with the aid of the green light, Eloise saw that it was Ominis.

“What are you doing down here, Ominis? You almost gave me a heart attack! You’re sitting in the shadows and I thought I was alone.”

“I could ask the same of you,” he said simply, the hint of an amused smirk gracing his features. “And, might I add, I didn’t mean to scare you on purpose. I thought you were purposely walking towards me. For all I know, it could be the break of dawn and I’m basking in the early rays of the sun.”

Eloise’s jaw dropped open in mortification. She had completely forgotten that he was blind. “How did you know that I was walking towards you?” She clapped her hands over her mouth in horror, the words leaving before she could stop them. What was wrong with her? With her sudden movement, her robes had fallen open again, revealing her nightgown, but she was too distraught over possibly having offended Ominis than continuing to follow the rules of propriety. “Oh Merlin’s beard, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

He just huffed quietly. They hadn’t spoken much at dinner, and Eloise was positive that he was angry with her. Maybe he had only acknowledged her presence because his best friend had seen fit to talk with her. Growing up blind, it would make sense for him to be sensitive to any comments regarding it…her face was flushed with mortification and guilt, and she slowly started backing away. Eloise figured it was better to just end the whole encounter being ruder still by making a hasty retreat, than to put her foot in her mouth once again and risk offending him more.

“No, wait,” Ominis said as soon as he realized she was walking away. His voice was choked with emotion and it seemed difficult for him to get the words out. Eloise froze and looked at him. His whole body was shaking, and she couldn’t tell if he was angry or…

Was he laughing?

“I might be blind, but I’m not deaf. In this silence, I would have been able to notice if anyone had entered the room even if they were trying to be sneaky, which you certainly were not. Stay, if you want.”

Eloise hesitated, then took the seat across from Ominis in the window. She nervously smoothed her nightgown over her legs. “Just so you know, you’re completely in shadow. If you hadn’t said anything, I probably would have walked right past you without realizing that you were here too.”

“I’ll choose a better spot to sit next time then, when I can’t fall asleep in the middle of the night,” he replied seriously. If not for the fact that he had just been teasing her, she would have thought that he was really taking what she said into consideration. “You never answered my original question. You can’t sleep?”

Eloise shook her head, then quickly added, “no. So much has happened these last few days…my brain always has a hard time turning off. Especially after a day like today.”

Ominis hummed in understanding, tilting his head towards her. The green light filtering through the water danced over his gaunt features, making his cheekbones and the dark circles under his eyes more prominent. His pupil-less eyes glowed eerily in the light. “I can only imagine. You arrived late to the sorting, and your aura was very unnerving as you stepped into the Great Hall. I immediately knew something was extraordinary about you.”

“My…aura?”

“Yes. I might not be able to see, but my wand does it for me. It’s hard to explain but…I can sense the people around me. I can’t make out features, but everyone has their own unique aura radiating from them. Yours is…different.”

Different? It must have something to do with the fact she hadn’t had any magical ability until recently. Maybe it was stunted or…maybe her aura was different due to the stress of the day.

“I saw someone murdered in front of me today,” Eloise blurted out before she could stop herself. Ominis didn’t look surprised by her sudden outburst, he merely remained still as he waited for Eloise to continue. “It was…shocking. A dragon came out of nowhere and just ripped our carriage in half, taking Mr. Osric with it. The worst part is…I’m-I’m shocked because it happened. But I’m not sad. I don’t feel the horror I think I should be feeling, and that is more horrifying to me. When I was lying in bed, the events of today kept replaying in my mind on a loop and I kept on trying to make myself feel the correct emotions. But I couldn’t. Something inside of me is broken.”

Eloise looked down at her hands, fingers wringing and untwisting together in her lap. She tried to force herself to sit as still as Ominis, but it was impossible. She couldn’t believe how easy it was to unload all of this onto a stranger, but he didn’t seem to mind listening. There was silence for a few minutes, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Eloise peeked at Ominis from under her lashes. The boy appeared to be deep in thought.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he finally said. “It’s normal for me, though. I also have a hard time turning off my thoughts, especially at night. This little corner of the common room feels like mine, in a sense. I’ve been coming here to think since I was a first-year. Maybe I subconsciously chose this place because, if you’re right, it’s more hidden than the rest. Nobody will see me if they’re sneaking around late at night, and it’s so peaceful.”

“That I can agree with,” said Eloise. “I actually came down here to see what it was like when it’s empty. I don’t quite know how to explain it, but this place already feels like home to me. A far sight better than the place I left behind. Places.”

“If you want me to leave, I’m fine with giving up my hiding place for a worthy cause.”

“No,” Eloise said quickly. “I…I like having you here. With me. It means I don’t have to be alone with my thoughts.”

Ominis smiled and tilted his head, not quite looking at her in that odd way of his. “It’s nice, talking to you. Most people avoid me. I can’t imagine why.”

Eloise huffed in quiet laughter. They sat in silence for a while longer, until Ominis broke it again. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But…am I correct in guessing that you and Leo Babbit know each other?”

Eloise’s breath hitched in her throat. She still wasn’t sure how much of her past she wanted people to know…but she also knew that as soon as the day broke the castle would be swirling with rumors. And, as much as she hated the thought, the truth would come out one way or another. She had been lucky enough so far…her name hadn’t been said at the sorting due to the unusual circumstances. But, come morning, everyone would put the pieces together once her name was called out by a teacher.

She could test the waters with someone like Ominis, who seemed like the sort of fellow who would take it in stride.

“I…like I said, you don’t have to tell me,” Ominis said softly.

“No! No, it’s fine,” Eloise assured him. “It’s…complicated. I would prefer if it never came out but…if the school I was at before is any indication, everyone will know by lunch tomorrow regardless of if I say anything or not.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “My full name is Eloise Babbit. Leo is my brother.”

Ominis showed no reaction. It gave her the strength to continue.

“I was rejected by my family. As the years went by and I still wasn’t showing any signs of magic, I was ignored by my parents in favor of Leo. When my eleventh year came and went without any acceptance letter to Hogwarts, I had to come to terms with the fact that I was actually a squib. Up until then, I had held onto the hope and the day I lost that, I lost everything. I was banished and burned off of the family tree, like I never existed. Until a few days ago, I was learning how to become a perfect muggle wife at one of their horrid finishing schools. My family had already prepared a marriage for me to a prominent muggle family, reasoning that I could at least give them important connections.” She spat that last word out. Even speaking the words was a bitter reminder of the life she had almost led. “Based on Leo’s reaction, he definitely didn’t know that I had been admitted to Hogwarts. I don’t even know what’s worse: if my parents knew and decided not to tell him, or if the fact that I was burned off the family tree means that they wouldn’t have received a notification.”

She stared at her hands again. What was it about this boy that made her want to unload everything to him? Yes, he had asked her about it, but she still felt guilty for talking to him at all. Like somehow, telling him would make it his problem as well.

“If there’s anyone in this school who understands the horrors of one’s family, it’s me,” he said. Eloise looked up at him in surprise. He chuckled quietly, as if he could see her expression. “My family are direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. Absolutely stark-raving mad, pureblood fanatics. We’ve gotten quite reclusive in the past hundred years or so, and don’t have much contact with the outside world. Your family’s inbreeding resulted in fear of giving birth to a potential squib. Mine, in the form of a useless, blind son who has no interest in continuing their crazy beliefs. I guess you could say we are two kindred souls. Maybe that’s what your aura was trying to tell me earlier this evening.”

“I guess so,” Eloise replied. Both could tell that the other wasn’t saying everything on their mind, but she wanted to give him the same comfort he had offered her and decided not to pry. “Thank you, Ominis.”

He inclined his head towards her and then moved his unseeing gaze to the large stained glass window. They sat there for quite some time, at least it felt that way to Eloise. The passage of time seemed not to exist as she and Ominis sat there, deep inside their own thoughts. Formless shadows danced behind the window, their regular movements helping to calm her thoughts. After what seemed like an eternity, Eloise found herself stifling a yawn.

“It seems your day has finally caught up with you,” Ominis said, smiling softly. “I think it’s best if we head to bed. Hogwarts might be more progressive than the muggle school you’ve just escaped, but if anyone sees us here together it would just further the rumors already swirling around you.”

Eloise nodded her assent and stood up slowly. She hadn’t realized how much time they had spent there until she felt the stiffness in her muscles that only comes from remaining still for a very long time. Ominis also got up slowly, gracefully stretching out his long body in the process. As he stood, she saw him grab his wand out of his pocket, and it began glowing a faint red as he walked. That must be how he gets around, she thought to herself. He did say his wind has a mind of its own.

She followed him and they slowly made their way to the two sets of stairs leading to the dormitories. They paused once they were about to part. “Goodnight, Ominis.”

“Goodnight, Eloise. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or rather, I’ll sense your presence later on this morning.” He gave her a faint smile and then turned to head down the stairs leading to his dormitory. Eloise stood there, watching until she couldn’t see the red glow of his wand anymore. With a yawn, she turned towards her room and soon slipped under the covers, sleep finally coming. Before she fell asleep, she had only the fleeting realization that Ominis had not actually answered her question.

The title is a link to everything on ao3, but just in case you didn’t catch that, here it is🫶

next chapter

[lotus-pear]

TWELVE KAY LETS FUCKING GO we are back to an even number i’m so glad ‼️‼️‼️‼️

[triglycercule]

who asked for this. nobody. but unfortunately as a creator i actually have to CREATE for my au 😞😞😞😒😒😒 jk fashion au ink and swap designs ig,,,,,,

ink. ink. ink. she's totally not holding a gun to my head as i type this,,,,, because she CANT break the fourth wall ok she totally doesnt realize that she's forever gonna be stuck living life as a high schooler with no chance of ever graduating or progressing in life,,,,, BECAUSE THERE'S NO ANGST IN JK FASHION AU HAAHAHAH 😁😁😁😁 anyways she's soooo silly :3333 i'm not a connoisseur of anyone that's not the mtt (biased 🙂🙂🙂) but i wanted her to be silly but also a bit freakish,,,, ya!

what do the people think about INK???? featuring everyone in jk fashion au so far 😇😇

dream: "ink is another one of my close friends. she's been there for me when even nightmare couldn't, and i've supported her likewise. sometimes her head is in the clouds, so i send her texts to remind her of things like homework and such. maybe she forgets lunch sometimes, so swap and i give her a share of ours. and when ink wants to talk about anything she's thinking of, whether it's a painter's use of color or the reason we exist, i'm always open to listening. she's an amazing person, really."

nightmare: "ink. ah, that girl is an enigma, truly. somedays she supports me on my path to world domination, and other days she just laughs at me and says as if it were a fact that i would never achieve it! ugh... but despite my slight grievances, she's dream's friend, and i've grown fond of her. quite often, without me even requesting, she gifts me paintings. now, they may seem normal at first, but recently i've discovered a pattern with them. as if ink had peered into the mind of god and depicted it visually, the paintings assist me in handling dream appropriately. i must say, she's skilled as well..."

killer: "see now ink? she's my type of gal. we get along pretty well, hehe! we're on the same wavelength or something, i dunno. not like she can predict what i do, but i wouldn't be surprised if she could, but ink and i just click. we talk about all sorts of silly stuff; similar sense of humor, after all. ink and i can yap about different shows and movies we've watched and stuff, she gives really good insight on the more technical stuff like color psychology and framing, and she once drew me art for one of my big follower milestones on twitter! she's suuuuper cool, haha!"

dust: "okay, just... keep this between me and you, but i think ink has some sort of secret sixth sense? i dunno. nothing against her, she's a fun person. just that, uh... sometimes she just comes up to me when i least expect it and starts asking me about my progress on my writing. which is... confusing. i've only ever told killer and horror about my writing, so i don't know how she knows...?"

horror: "y'know, dust and i have a bit of a bet going on. all jokes and all, but i've got a feeling ink's pulling some sort of elaborate spying prank with how much she knows about us... dust doesn't think so. but i'm betting 20 bucks she does. like, once i was at a vending machine and the stupid thing didn't give me my goddamn candy bar, ugh. i had to stay cool. but then ink just pops out of nowhere, says its okay for me to drop the act and get mad around her, and then does some sort of vending machine trick to get the candy?? yeah, she's definitely a wizard or something. in a nice way, i guess."

NOW SWWAAAAAAPPP she's silly. i included the bit of her getting into trouble because of her good will SOLELY because swap gets bullied a lot in other aus 💀 (askerror, something new, etc,,,,,,) i also read a canon underswap doc??? SWAP IS SO SILLY!!!!! i cant really explain her personality through text i'd need to draw comics for her which uhhhh,,,,, (looks away)

THOUGHTS ON SWAP????

dream: "ah, swap! she's one of my dearest friends, i truly care for her deeply. out of sheer coincidence it seems, that she, ink, and i were chosen to be the star students of the school, but surprisingly it works out well... swap's truly a delight. she's a great motivator, and she's saved me from a few situations that would've ended up terribly had she not been there, hehe."

nightmare: "sometimes the world hates me. ah- well, what i meant was, the path of fate has me set on a predetermined path of struggle! and yet, when even i, the queen of negativity, could not stop my kin from slipping on a ridiculously placed banana peel and almost breaking her neck, swap was her knight in shining armor and caught her. needless to say, just as fate despises my bloodline, fate also has angels sent down from heaven. i do suppose swap is one of those, bless her soul."

killer: "heh, swap?? that girl's a riot! couple years ago i tried convincing her to show me some of those sick moves she learned at kickboxing, or karate, taekwondo, whatever... she broke my wrist, haha! but then i pulled a knife on her and then we both got in trouble. hah, good times, good times. no, i didn't stab her?! in fact, she's very good friends with mr. mew and the grumpen, thank you very much! a friend of my kitties is a friend of mine!"

dust: "she's nice. her type of energy is something you only see is like... a sugar-rushed ink, and killer normally. but anyways, swap's a good help around the school. she's a bit ridiculous every now and then with all her "the magnificent swap" and how she's a bit of a showoff, but whatever. aren't we all? anyways, at least the scavenger hunts she makes during school dances are fun."

horror: "swap is uh... she's something. gotta admit, she's pretty normal compared to some of the people at this school. but man... enthusiasm, much? eh, whatever. i'm not the type to complain when her burritos are to die for. we're partners in cooking class... let's just say, she carries us hard."

anyways jk cross and epic soon. sooner than you think heheheh

[aryomengrande]

the tiger of the west junior high has reached his destination ! this apt will host karaoke and movie marathons—all for yuji and his favorite girl, jay ! thank you for stopping by at the apt, @itadoreyu ! come see us again in the future ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

rara's favorite random game | © aryomengrande 2023

…but wait ! these guests have arrived on an important day for the host ! taylor swift, who has been a great influence to her craft, celebrates her 35th birthday today ! upholding swiftie tradition, she’s handing out a bunch of friendship bracelets, made specially for yuji and jay ♡

to me fearless isn't not having fears, it's not that you're not afraid of anything. i think that being fearless is having a lot of fears, but you jump anyway. - taylor swift