#good geto au

[herofics]

A Hangover

A/N: Just more of my good Geto AU stuff (Geto never went rogue, saved Mimiko and Nanako and stayed at Jujutsu High with Gojo and reader, and they started a relationship), these aren’t really in any particular order, and you can find the previous stuff in the “good geto au” tag. Idk what this is, but it was fun to write

“We really shouldn’t have let him drink so much” you said as you and Geto were helping Gojo up the stairs

"You know he’s a lightweight, and he had like two drinks” Geto said with an annoyed tone.

“We should’ve made him stick to mocktails” you groaned as Gojo leaned against you in his drunken state.

"What you two talkin about? I’m fiiiiiineeee” Gojo muttered, trying to stand without support, almost falling on his ass at the top of the stairs

“Alright, you’re almost in bed love” Geto said as Gojo leaned against the doorframe.

“(Naaaameeeeeee), I don’t wanna go to bed, Suguru’s bein a meanie” Gojo complained very loudly.

“Satoru, you have to, you’re way too drunk to do anything else” you said and brushed his hair off his face and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re comin with me then” he smirked and started dragging you towards the bed.

You let him, since that was probably the only way you could get him to bed. Gojo fell face first onto the bed and curled up on top of the covers, still holding your hand.

“Come to bed with meeeeee” Gojo said with a sing-songy tone.

You sat down on the bed, and Gojo brought your hand to his face and kissed your knuckles.

Geto was just leaning against the door frame and watching the two of you. He had a gentle smile on his face as he looked at you and Gojo. You looked back at him with an amused expression and mouthed the word “lightweight” at him before rolling your eyes. Geto chuckled and motioned towards the stairs indicating that he was going downstairs. You nodded and whispered that you’d be there soon.

Gojo had fallen asleep, but he was still holding onto your hand. You tried to pull your hand away, but he tightened his grip and muttered something akin to “no, mine”. You brushed his hair away from his face again, and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“Love you, get some rest” you whispered and stood up, leaving the room.

Geto was sitting on the couch, TV on, but the sound was very low.

“I’m never letting him drink again” you groaned as you collapsed next to Geto on the couch.

“Well thank god for mocktails, or we would’ve had to carry him all the way back” Geto shook his head.

“I guess him being lightweight brings some balance to him otherwise being like the most powerful person on earth or something” you joked.

“Yeah, that’s probably the reason” Geto rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“He’s gonna be so hungover in the morning”

“So am I, I can feel it” Geto sighed, rubbing his right temple.

“We should probably go to sleep too, besides, if he notices there’s no one in the bed with him, Satoru’s gonna try to come down here and crack his head when he falls down the stairs”

“You’re probably right” Geto agreed.

“I’m gonna sleep in my room, you can take care of our drunk little prince”

“Fine”

“Goodnight, Suguru” you yawned and started making your way towards your room.

“Goodnight love” he smiled.

Geto climbed the stairs to the second story, and disappeared into the master bedroom as you closed the door to your room.

Gojo was spread out on the bed like a starfish, so Geto had to push him around a bit to fit on the bed comfortably. Gojo looked quite adorable when he was sleeping so peacefully. Geto and you had to pretty much drag him out to have some fun that night, but in the end he had a good time, and so did you and Geto of course.

Geto laid down next to Gojo and kissed him on the forehead, before closing his eyes and going to sleep.

You woke up in the morning to a delicious smell coming from the kitchen. You put on your slippers and dragged yourself to the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Gojo said as you appeared from behind the corner.

He looked all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, what the hell?

“How are you not hungover?” you asked, completely baffled as to how he was up before you and Geto.

“I’m the strongest, don’t you know? A little hangover won’t keep me down” Gojo grinned.

“But every time we’ve gone drinking before, you’ve been absolutely miserable the next morning, so why not now?”

“It’s a Christmas miracle” he joked.

“It’s not Christmas” you noted sarcastically.

“A Saturday miracle then?” he questioned.

“Sure, let’s go with that” you sighed.

“I think Suguru’s still asleep, but coffee is done already”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to tea. You and Suguru can have the coffee, though you might not need any more caffeine” you noted as you filled the kettle with water and turned it on.

“Coffee sounds good right about now” Geto yawned as he came down the stairs, wearing just a pair of sweatpants, stretching his arms towards the ceiling.

“You hungover?” you asked Geto. “Because our lightweight partner here is just fine” you motioned at Gojo.

“You used RCT” Geto stated, more like a fact than a question.

“I don’t know why I haven’t done it before, it was such an obvious answer” Gojo smirked.

“That’s cheating, you should suffer with the two of us” you complained, motioning at yourself and Geto.

“Well you don’t look very hungover either” Geto said to you.

“I have a pretty nasty headache, but not much more” you said.

“So I’m worse off than both of you combined” Geto groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Come have some breakfast, you’ll feel better after” Gojo said, and set down a cup of coffee on the table.

Geto sat down and took a sip of the coffee, before leaning back against the chair with a deep exhale. Gojo set down a plate in front of him and another one in front of you. His cooking smelled delicious when you had woken up but now the smell of food was just making you nauseous.

“I’m gonna grab us some ibuprofen” you sighed and left the kitchen, trying to hide your desire to throw up.

“Thank you” Geto said.

“I think they’re feeling worse than they say” Gojo noted quietly, not wanting you to hear.

“Probably, you know they don’t like to show it” Geto agreed.

“We’re out of painkillers, so that fucking sucks” you groaned as you returned to the kitchen, slamming the empty ibuprofen bottle on the table.

“You okay?” Gojo asked as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Yeah, this headache is just killing me” you sighed. “I’ll be fine though, even without the painkillers”

“You sure? I could go get some painkillers, you two look like you really need them” Gojo motioned at you and Geto.

“Please and thank you” Geto said, more for your sake than his own, because he knew you wouldn’t want to bother Gojo with something like that, at least not just for your own sake.

“I won’t take long” Gojo said and kissed both you and Geto on the cheek, before hurrying to put on his jacket and shoes.

Before you knew it, he was out the door. Gojo was wonderful, even though he could be an idiot sometimes. Geto was much more cool headed, but just as amazing. You loved them both so much, and you knew they felt the same way about you. You could never stop worrying about them though. They were two special grade sorcerers, the strongest there was, but still, every time they stepped out of that door, you were afraid they wouldn’t come back. Maybe it was just the line of work they were in, what you’d been trained for too. You didn’t end up choosing that life but you still saw it. You saw how tired it made them.

“Thanks for always worrying about us” Geto said suddenly, like he could read your mind.

“It kinda comes with this whole relationship thing” you said jokingly.

“I know, but I appreciate it, and I know Satoru does too, even if he forgets to say it” Geto smiled.

“Thanks” you smiled back.

Gojo didn’t take long with his trip to the pharmacy, and him being in the best condition out of the three of you, he wanted to take care of you and Geto. Geto resisted at first, but Gojo wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“You took care of me last night, so let me return the favor you stubborn-!” Gojo argued as he tried to carry Geto to the couch.

“I don’t need you to carry me!” Geto argued back, pushing Gojo away, but he held his grip.

Even though your head still hurt, these two idiots still got a laugh out of you with their bickering. You wished it could be like this forever, just the three of you, happy in your own little bubble.

[hinamie]

yeah sorry theyre tragic in this au too

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[tenowls]

teacher getou au...... wauh

[chyarui]

Infinity Hashira Gojo Satoru 🩵

I binged basically all of demon slayer over the weekend and this wouldn’t leave my brain

Let me know if you guys are curious about any headcanons (or if you guys wanna see more jjk characters 👀)!!!

[omuzgh]

suguru geto x reader drabble. this one’s for my ethnic girlies.

i like a man who’s strong.

i like a man with long thick hair.

you kiss your teeth in disapproval, quickly making your sentences face the dooming delete button. you need more depth, more detail, more deeper. you notes app is demanding more.

i like a man who’s intelligent.

i like a man who’s different.

i like…

you fingers freeze, no longer wanting to dance tango with your phone screen. you can only loudly sigh, as if your trying to push a weight off your shoulders onto the table, but it’s craws dig too deep into your back.

this is all too suffocating.

it all started when you were only in your preteens. you were really going through your awkward phase back then, you questioned how your mother even let you out like that in the first place.

thick metal glasses, the most nerdiest anime shirt you begged your brother to buy you, and that iconic short dora haircut, iconic you can say. but if there’s one thing you still shared in common with that little girl is the desire to be loved.

not by her mother and father, who in her eyes are fallen angels, but by someone else, someone new, something new.

when your learning environment soon turned into the preteen version of love island, you couldn’t help but watch afar from the distance. how much you’d kill to be like the other girls, their long blonde sun kissed hair and the brightest eyes you’ll ever see. you wanted nothing more but to be them.

the way the boys swooped to her feet without a second thought, as if she already had an army of men wrapped around her finger, all while you sat on the benches, begging to be picked.

even in your own little anti social friend group, when that sudden merge with the boy groups, everyone of your friends had a secret admirer or a crush to share. but you? not a second glance will ever be wasted on you.

it was obvious you didn’t look the same as your friends, but no one was afraid to silently let you know. all you could do in the end is stand at the edge of the group with your hands together and dream.

your teenage years were a bit more nicer, but the more you grew up the more love was shoved down your throat. it was annoying. sure, all the sudden you had the smallest increase of attention from men, but it’s all from those men who can’t keep their hands out their pants.

it only go worst seeing your friends in relationships, and more importantly, seeing your own siblings all the sudden find “the one” that your parents eagerly approve.

so when all your parents children pack away to start their new ideal life, naturally, their attention switched to you.

but they never pressed, they were too busy helping their other children that you thankfully left the picture, secretly opening a new door. maybe all the complements about your curls, your skin, and eyes got to you in a way you never thought would, because now your resume is decorated with all these lies about volunteering, some how landing you a job.

but this job wasn’t building a big mac or break your arm trying to scoop out ice cream for a kid; it was a night cafe. the kinds of cafes that only hires hot bitches to get more customers and open from 5pm till 2am selling some trendy overpriced bullshit.

you walk into your first shift, fully expecting for them to put you in the back or in the kitchen, but to your surprise they insist on you working in the front, serving all the customers. talk about awkward because half of the time it’s mostly men, men that want attention.

you came into this job expecting the worst, and that was truly delivered to you in a way you never imagined, in a way you always dreamed for. from banter, to straight up flirting and even harassment. your last straw? stalking.

i mean, thanks to this job you got more than enough numbers from a bunch of hotties, and your first relationship (we don’t talk about that), which you know for sure is your last. but even so, watching someone in a black hoodie every night follow you to your bus stop only escalated to a dragged out police report that was swept under the rug because you don’t fit their ideal stalking victim.

so when you came back to your boss that’s blaming you for everything, begging you not to go, you promised him one more week and you’re leaving. his eyebrows would push into each other, playing an intense game of tug of war, but his mouth didn’t dare to move, only sighing and agreeing to your sly request. it’s only for the best.

you only hoped that your last week isn’t your worst, until one man came to your shop that stood out from the rest of the men. every man that came here wore the same clothes, same hair same style same shit, but he was different.

his hair was long and his ears had those big earring that stretched of his ears. not something you have a personal knack for but who are you to judge? he was wearing a black leather jacket and a basic uniqlo tee under. his hair was thrown into a lazy bun that fell flawlessly on his carved out face. to everyone else? he was emo, to you? he was a breath of fresh air. the type of guy your friends will tease you if you admitted how attractive you think he is.

he only started coming on your last week but you tried to wiggle your way into making an impression. he’d order a normal cookie and soft serve on the side, and you’d write “nice fit! :)” on his drink. he really seemed to like it too. you watch him from the distance, sitting in your shops outside area with a smile on his face looking at the note. what a dork, it’s adorable.

sadly though, your final week ended and this emo boy was no were to be seen. you don’t want to go back, no way — you actually love yourself now — but you just want to see him, maybe get to talk to him. but before you can, your family snatched you hand and twirled you into 5 different dresses and 5 different weddings, all direct family.

the people you laughed and teased about how sad and cursed their future partner must be are now slow dancing to some corny foreign song about their partners eyes on their wedding night.

and what’s worse is the people they become after that wedding. it’s like their being put at gun point 24/7 to only revolve themselves around their husbands. women who’s education is worth more than moneys ever worth is carelessly thrown out the window; onto a house wife they be.

i mean, you’re only a teenager and have no say in their marriage and choices, sure, but you can’t help but feel an angle has lost it’s precious wings. a smart beautiful woman that could nurish into one of the most beautiful flowers in the garden stop growing at its early ages to match the other flowers.

you promise yourself not to be like that. even though your dms was still men who would the crack the moon for you and you only sometimes entertained was still present, you never isolated your stance on who or what women have built for so long.

alas when you finally graduate and block everyone the moment you sink into your couch, you parents come sneaking before you, stripping you of your iconic hat and gown of academics to show you a folder of your potential marriage suitors, who are all weirdly enough your cousins or distant family. you never entrained their ideas and suggestions, not weak enough to break your own mental promise.

finally after your battle of love and acceptance of being forever single, a familiar thick black haired man strutted into your uni class, fashionably late and quickly making his way to you.

he plops his stuff on the desk next to you, the vibrations shaking you to get your tired head off the table to see his wide grin pointed straight at you.

“hey! long time no see.”

you grin back, straightening up and quickly cleaning up you desk while he settles down, the teachers monotone voice fading into white noise.

“oh hey, never would of guessed you remembering me.”

he chuckled, slightly shaking his head and taking off his puffer jacket.

“how could i ever forget you?”

a/n: this is lowkey summarised most of my life… 😛 if anything doesn’t make sense or sounds weird keep in mind i wrote this at 4am and my only source of energy was a watermelon mocktail downed in energy drinks.

[eraserbread]

been thinking about a satosugu band au way too much... mhmmfhmdn cw: heavy drug use / 18+

twenty minutes until showtime...

geto's leaning over the dressing room table, all tied up in his all-black, baggy work clothes. tattoos all over his skin, long hair all over his shoulders. he's doing sloppy lines through a plastic straw, taking them back to back in each nostril so he can bare to do his job correctly running on two hours of sleep.

he hates touring, but gojo loves it.

He's tucked in the corner with the electric guitar he calls 'infinite void.' it's so corny, you hate it, but all satoru is are stupid, baseless jokes lost amongst the seriousness of his bandmates.

he's been tuning up in drop d for nearly half an hour, swearing the fifth string is flat, but shaking his head when you and suguru tell him it's fine. he'd only be in this alternate tuning for one song, then he'll be back in standard, so it doesn't really matter.

to him, it does. it's the world. all of his precious, doting fans spent money and took time to see him sparkle tonight. he's the true star of the show, overshadowing your delicate vocals and geto's strict bass.

at least, that's what he thinks.

standing up straight, geto rolls his neck, then turns to you, holding his dusty porcelain plate in your direction. "here, baby."

you have half a mind to tell him no, but tonight's not your night either, so you agree, stepping towards him and letting him hold the plate as you take a singular line. it burns for a second, then mellows out nicely. you don't have to look at him to know gojo's staring in disapproval.

he doesn't care about your drug habits, but he hated performing as the only one sober. he can't even drink before shows because the riffs and licks he hits on infinite void are so masterful and difficult that if he weren't in the right mind, he'd fumble.

lucky you and geto. must be easy snorting your brain away and still delivering a good show.

"you three were supposed to be backstage ten minutes ago."

notoriously lax yet extremely helpful, your tour manager, ijichi opens the dressing room door, only sticking his head through the entrance because he’s fallen victim to a few lewd scenes from the few of you.

this is yet another one of them, but he turns a blind eye as you stand up straight, pushing some hair behind your ear and wiping at your nose. you're supposed to be the responsible one, not the high one. you're sure a strongly worded message will light your phone screen after the show.

after years against the spotlight and camera flashes, you're more jumpy with it then ever. gojo blames it on the drugs, but geto says its the pressure of growth. you want this five-thousand-person crowd to love what they see - but, how can they love what they see if you don't even love it?

this artistic mind of yours is cruel, but so poetic. you're sure after a good smoke and time with your boyfriend, you could piece that feeling into a song.

but all you can focus on right now is the comforting gaze in gojo's eyes as you pace backstage. the crowd is quiet after the opening act, stewing with the wait, and geto's getting his bass strap adjusted, so gojo steps forward.

"big breaths, k?"

"shut up," you tell him... lovingly. he's got infinite void hoisted round his back, tight, black t-shirt clinging to the waves and dips of his toned chest and arms. all of his outfits are purely fan service, you know that.

he brings the crowd, you entice them, and geto goes in for the kill. it's the perfect balance. they're your musical soulmates.

"pre-show kiss? for good luck?"

"no." gojo's not your boyfriend, though geto wouldn't and doesn't give a fuck when he sees you two flirting or touching. lines get blurred when you live out of hotels and buses for a year, and the two of you aren't exclusive.

god only knows how many drunk makeout sessions you stumbled into between the two of them.

then, when those room lights dim and ijichi stops scolding geto, does reality start to set in. you're handed your own electric guitar from a stage hand, checking the tuning quickly before nodding and stepping back.

the crowd erupts, geto takes that final hit from his vape, and gojo is rolling his shoulders. he's playing a resting g chord way up the fretboard, just getting comfortable with the first note he'll lead you into once that green light flashes.

then your mind is turned off. you walk out in front of the audience, hardly regarding them minus the fond look you give over your shoulder. it always starts with you, then gojo, and geto last.

the cheers and roar of the crowd are deafening even through your earpiece, but the feeling has you on fire. this is your element—your home. so, you take your spot in front of the middle mic, peeking over your shoulder as you wait for gojo to get settled with his pedals.

then, he plays that g chord, you count to three, then the melody comes flowing.

"you've got your walls as high as your friends the night we first met and you've got a way... of touching me, so I can't think enough to regret."

you're joining gojo with rhythm guitar, open strumming a few chords so you don't have to think too hard. your job is just to focus on singing, though you're completely fluent on your instrument.

in the crowd, young adults are reeling — as high as you and drunk off of the bright lights and mesmerizing presence. you scan the barricade, smiling at a few familiar groupies who were at the show last night. they know every single lyric, and every single time geto's gentle harmony accompanies your writing.

"and i know this feeling is temporary hold me until you're sure this burden is too much to carry."

you gaze to your left, catching geto's empty stare through the stage lights as he plays a simple, repeating riff. his fingers have a mind of their own after so many years of doing it, so he focuses most of his attention on you, the way you glimmer and how beautiful your voice sounds in his ear.

he smiles, then sings along.

"cut me loose, make me cry and when my eyes get all teary-eyed does that turn you on? like only I can?"

stepping away, you toss your head back as gojo's solo takes over your swimming mind. you're strumming along, hardly. he's doing the heavy lifting, smiling like an idiot through the song you wrote about you and geto's first breakup.

you're on your fifth go-around, now, but it doesn't make this tune any easier.

geto knows that, it's why he's smirking like a menace, turning his body towards you as the guitar carries you through flickering daydreams. the crowd gets lost as you get lost in your mind, but you're always perfectly on cue when that last whining note makes its way from gojo's fingers.

then, you're back at the mic, kissing it as you pour every ounce of emotion into this next run, eyes squeezed shut, brows knitted.

everything hurts — your heart, your mind, your eyes

but it's so good... so addicting.

[envy-of-the-apple]

the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)

and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)

Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.

Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 

Like that'd happen, but you can dream.

It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.

“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.

Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.

…

After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.

A muse.

Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.

You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 

The slight bit of quiet, then.

Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.

So you do some searching inward.

And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.

…

“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.

“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.

“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.

“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.

“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”

“Torch? Hmm… and that?”

It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.

You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 

It's a moment of peace. and warmth.

Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.

“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.

…

The next early morning, you find your home gone. 

In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.

Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.

“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.

Cold lips brush against your temple. 

“The only home you need is with us.”

The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.

(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)

jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????

I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.

Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.

[hellomayu]

actor geto visiting gojo after photoshoot 🎬✨

[numelfanclub]

mfs doing anything but drawing serious shit [i did make a little video actually it's under the cut 🤦‍♂️]

[shanathegeekyartist]

When i first read this amazing fic on ao3 “over the treshold” by @fushiglow i immediately knew i wanted to at least draw this scene and one other scene that i will do later on

I hold this fic dear to my heart now and can’t wait to read the next chapters. Fushiglow, i hope you like my interpretation of this scene.

Went for greyscale in this cause I feel it fits the vibe well.

Here is briefly what the fic is about if you are interested in modern AU slowburn satosugu fics

“larger than life K-pop idol, Satoru, approaches introverted record producer, Getō Suguru, to collaborate on his debut Japanese-language studio album. They both get more out of the experience than expected — for better and for worse.”

[kymsys]

(okay i was going about my day yesterday but i really couldn't get the merman au out of my head😭😭 i just imagine for a while somehow geto managed to sneak satoru into the palace and then it's a whole ordeal trying to hide him. panicked geto and oblivious gojo and really for all that image is stuck in my head i still have yet to write a proper interaction w them but!! it's not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes and it's a bit scattered but i had to get this one scene out that was brewing in my mind so🥺 ignore this if you want❗️❗️)

--

From the mezzanine, everyone looked like ants. Suguru had to squint to make out familiar faces in the crowd, and even then, the only person he could identify was a distant aunt of his that he had never really liked. Usually, he'd have been able to pick apart anyone of significance; he'd have known their name, their title, their interests. 

Suguru would've known, he always memorises the details before public events — he spends days in his room at a time, talking into the mirror and telling his reflection things about these people who he has never met. Perhaps, lately, he'd been busy with Satoru.

Suguru smiled. He didn't feel as guilty as he thought he would.

A hand clapped on his back, and he jolted. Shoko beside him, cocking a brow. “What's got you looking like a dumbass?” Her voice was flat, eyes busy scanning the crowd and Suguru knew who she was looking for.

He cleared his throat. He couldn't really tell her that he was keeping a siren in the little pond in his private garden — well, it wasn't exactly little, but that information held no relevance anyway. Shoko was his dear friend, and he knew she would always support him, but he had to keep Satoru a secret, more for her sake. Suguru bit his lip in thought. If only Satoru didn't have such a strong taste for human flesh.

“Is meat more nutritious than fish?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” Suguru winced at the look he was being sent. He didn't mean to blurt the question out, but he'd been thinking about it for days. The salmon that he'd been feeding Satoru probably wasn't enough to sustain a creature his size — especially when he was so active — which would mean he burnt through a lot of calories very quickly. “Utahime is on the balcony,” Suguru pointed in the general direction, giving Shoko a pat on the shoulder, “good luck.”

From his peripheral vision, he could see Shoko roll her eyes as he walked away, but she muttered a small 'thanks' before she turned to find the other woman. He was glad she finally had someone to open up to other than him — he saw how happy Shoko was with Utahime, and with the burden of inheriting the throne giving her sleepless nights, it was all Suguru could want for his closest friend.

He turned his attention back to the winding flight of stairs before him. Now, to find some meat.

KINGGGGGGGGGGGG (can i call you like that??)!!!! ♥ GAHHH IM SO HONOURED AND HAPPY, you actually wrote MORE??? bless you, this is truely amazing, this has me by my throat. thank you so fucking much, i love it!! <3 WHY THE FUCK WOULD I EVER IGNORE THIS, are u out of your mind. i LOVEEEE the way suguru keeps thinking about his little "pet" gojo and what would probably be the best food for him! like indeed he is a massive creature, he will probably need...a lot?? but also at the same time i can imagine that he is maybe not that....needy. isnt that a thing with lots of sharks or deep sea fish that they eat very little, just because its so hard to get by food? so their organism is evolved to survive on very little food and thrive nonetheless. MAYBE suguru just thinks gojo is in need of lots of food, but actually gojo just likes to eat bc he enjoys the food, but doesnt neccessarily need it?(he is also a mystical creature, so in that sense anything is possible really xD) I ALSO LOVE HOW SUGURU JUST RANDOMLY ASKS SHOKO ABOUT NUTRITIONS AND SHOKO IS JUST LIKE WHAT, i adore that ; u ; <3 AND OMG gojo lives in a pond in his private garden??? HOW CUTE!! so that makes me wonder (pls indulge with me) why would he bring this technically "monster" into his home? generally i would think maybe that a creature like that needs its space and would need their freedom? so MAYBEEEEE smth has happened? maybe gojo got hurt, maybe even when he was caught in the fishernet situation? MAYBE suguru needs to take care of him until he gets better and maybe gojo, the curious creepy creature that he is, enjoys the change of environment and the new feeling of being cared for?? its exciting for both! what do you think ?? 👉👈 maybe you had a different idea?? im so excited to hear your thoughts!! AND AGAIN THANK YOU, i love it SO much, i feel so lucky that you actually like it so much that you wanna write about it T___T ♥

EVERYONE LOOK !!!!!!!!

[herofics]

Stressed and tired, with Geto and Gojo comfort

I was considering writing smut, but I ended up deciding against it and just doing some fluff. I really wanted to write some GetoxreaderxGojo and this seemed like a good idea. It's in a situation where Geto never went rogue, and they're around 28 years old, so about where the anime started. I just needed some comfort I guess, I’m tired and sleep deprived so I apologize if this is a bit of a ramble. I’m gonna tag the things in this AU something like “good Geto AU”, because there’s probably gonna be more. Also feel free to send more JJK requests if you have ideas :D

“Baby, you need to get some rest. Come on, we’re going to sleep too” Gojo sighed.

“I can’t yet, I need to finish writing this” you muttered, staring at your laptop intensely.

“Alright, we’re taking drastic action” Geto groaned while pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, before grabbing your laptop, clicking on something on the screen and closing it.

“I really hope that was you saving my work” you glared at him.

“It was” Geto said, placing the laptop on the coffee table. “Satoru isn’t right very often, but he is about this. You need some sleep”

“Hey! I’m always right” Gojo argued.

You snickered tiredly, while Geto rolled his eyes at him, before offering his hand to you and pulling you up from the couch. You wobbled a bit while you were standing, so Gojo picked you up and started carrying you to the bedroom bridal style, with Geto following on his heels.

“I can walk on my own” you protested, but just leaned your head against his chest and closed your eyes.

You were really tired, it’s not like you didn’t know that, but you had work to do. Your resolve melted away quite quickly as you snuggled against Gojo’s chest. You just couldn’t be bothered to resist your boyfriends. They meant well and just wanted to take care of you, so who were you to deny them that.

“To bed we go” Gojo said and kissed the top of your head.

Gojo set you on the bed, and pulled off your jeans and socks, as you tiredly struggled to get your hoodie off.

“Can you help me? I’ve got no strength left” your voice was muffled by the hoodie since your head was inside of it.

“Are you ready to admit you need sleep?” you heard Geto’s voice say.

“Yes” you said reluctantly from inside the hoodie.

“Good” Geto said with a self-satisfied smirk as he pulled the hoodie off you.

“Thank you” you yawned.

You wiggled to the end of the bed where the pillows were and buried your head in the pillow you liked to sleep on, as the two men climbed into bed on both sides of you.

Gojo wrapped his arms around you just under your chest from behind you and snuggled his face into your hair. Geto wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face to your chest. While you felt very safe and loved, you were also very warm. You didn’t mind though, it was nice to have them so close. At least you knew they were at home and safe, and not on some mission getting themselves hurt.

For some reason, all the times they’d come home hurt and all the times you’d had to wake them up from nightmares came rushing back to your mind. You just wanted to go to sleep, you didn’t need to start crying right now. Apparently that wasn’t for you to decide though, because you started sniffling and you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. The reaction was probably caused by the fact that you were so very stressed and tired, and just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“What’s wrong love?” Geto asked, raising his head from your chest and creating a bit of distance between you and him so he could look you in the eyes.

“What’s got you so upset baby?” Gojo asked softly.

“I need to sleep, I’m just tired” you tried to bury your face in your pillow.

“You don’t need to lie to us” Geto said and placed a hand on your cheek, to stop you from crying into the pillow.

“Yeah, we’re here for you” Gojo chimed in.

“I know, I know, I just don’t feel like talking about it, it’s not something you can change anyway” you sniffled.

It’s not like the two of the strongest sorcerers could just quit. They were needed, and they did so much good, you just wished they wouldn’t have to risk their lives doing it.

Geto and Gojo looked at each other for a while. Neither of them wanted to push you, especially since you were already exhausted, but they would have liked to know what had made you so upset.

“When you’re ready to talk about it, just come to us, okay?” Geto said with an assurring smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek, and pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m sure we can figure something out together” Gojo muttered against your neck, before peppering a few kisses on your neck and shoulder.

“I love you both so much” you sniffled.

“I love you too (Name)” Geto smiled softly.

“Aren’t you forgetting about someone, Su-gu-ru?” you could hear that annoying smirk in Gojo’s voice and in the way he said Geto’s name.

“And I love you as well, Satoru” Geto sighed and hung his head, but you could see his lips draw into a small smile.

“I love you both too” Gojo laughed, before reaching his arms over you and pulling Geto closer so you were pinned between them, while he embraced you both.

You felt better. Your worries hadn’t exactly eased, but for now you were only feeling warm and so very loved. You could at least sleep a bit easier tonight, knowing the two people you loved were both there with you. 

[0ctopus-vase-phas3]

Hello dear, I am Hala, a mother of four children from Gaza. We live in difficult circumstances in Gaza. Our dreams and future have been shattered. Our home has been destroyed and we have been displaced many times. Please donate participate to evacuate my children to their father in Egypt. Thank you.

Please take a moment to listen to Hala, spread her story. Imagine how devastating it must be to have everything shattered right before your eyes whilst having children. Please help Hala and her dream for a better future for her and her children. Donate if you can, boost, reblog, share, post, anything you can do helps. Reach out a helping hand to the people begging for it, please.

[kyarashard]

they napping

[momochimchim]

Jjk au thingies (◍•ᴗ•◍)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

im so excited to read more ab kistune geto you would not believe!! i just need a protective immortal being of a bf who’s inhuman-ness scares me a little but also intrigues me 🙏

WAHHH ANON I’M SO GLAD 🥺🥺🥺 i’m having so much fun writing and thinking about him…… he’s twisted but also silly . very doting….. and he’s very very protective lmao. he’s basically your guard dog . guard…. fox . he’s your god and expects your devotion but he’d do just about anything in return . his love is a little off but his non-beating heart is mostly in the right place :3 he sincerely believes you were made for him .

.... you didn’t ask for it but i’m very giddy abt this fic so here is a lil snippet for you :333 i’m…. normal about him . i promise. don’t mind the undertones

”what a good little human you are,” he purrs, and you know to take it as a compliment. the best of the worst. (it’s not the worst thing to be.) ”thank you, geto-sama,” you smile, just a little shy. a little sheepish. the corners of his lips curl up, up, his fingers still threading through your hair. ”is there anything you’d like?” he asks, suddenly. ”anything at all. your god will provide it for you.” his hand is a comforting weight, on your head. he pets you gently, delicately, like a well-loved pet. it shouldn’t send a shiver down your spine, but it does.