#i think i had a scrapped fic of this

[jxdgementtt]

pm!soukoku dancing on the battlefield. idk how to explain but like. on one side theres dazai with a gun and firing at the enemies behind chuuya. and theres chuuya throwing bullets at the enemies behind. and theyre just spinning around and shit.

bonus points if dazais nlh ability is skin-to-skin only so hand on chuuyas waist and arm. anytime dazai spins chuuya, chuuya shoots the bullets.

[courfee]

it's been exactly a year since the last chapter of Operation Walburga's Arbitrary No Kissing Ever Rule and I still miss it. This scene is probably one of my favourite things I've ever written and I've wanted to draw it for forever, so now seemed like an appropriate time

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

On a lighter note somebody on A03 just dropped this comment on Chapter 15 of DUCKLINGS THAT DROWN with a fan comic???? They gave me permission to repost it here and I had to because I'm obsessed!

Dolores Dei in her waiting outfit? The black speech bubbles for (real) Kim contrasting the white, pure, *fake*, speech of dream Kim?? How they're all drawn in general???

THE GAME MENU AS THE DREAM ENDS AND HARRY WAKES UP ALONE IN THE DARK???

I have been looking at this for hours.

[uncleardyn]

(alan wake-gravity falls crossover) man i love that character. you know, the deeply paranoid author who made a pact with a dark entity that ultimately ended with him stranded in another dimension separated from his loved ones for years at a time? takes place in the pacific northwest? has twin imagery associated with him and a reoccurring specific piece of symbology related to the unfortunate situation they're in? doesn't ever explain the reasoning behind his actions and instead just kinda goes "bro trust me"? yeah he also wears an outer layer of clothing with elbow pads on it, that one.

[godsfavoritescientist]

Drabble request: post-canon "happy" ending for Bill & Ford, but find some way to imply that something super fucked up is going on just beneath the surface. Mind control, dream bubble fantasy, idk, dealer's choice, just something messed up.

Fragments of what was once Earth drift through the empty vacuum of space. They sit together on a summoned-up couch, watching it all float by. Ford fidgets with his brand new eye-shaped gold cufflinks. His ornately-embroidered sleeves are drenched in blood.

The henchmaniacs are busy elsewhere, expanding their reign of benevolent terror to the outer reaches of the galaxy. This mostly entails eating space rocks and crashing planets into eachother. For the first time since Ford accepted Bill’s offer, they’ve had time to really sit down and chat.

Bill throws an arm over Ford’s shoulder. “Lemme tell you something, Sixer. It doesn’t really matter how necessary it was–and believe me, it was necessary! What matters more is that it was the most fun you’ll ever have! Now that you’re immortal, I won’t sugarcoat it: Earth’s entire existence is a blip in the grand scheme of things. It was like a really dry log: destined to be burned!” He pats Ford on the back. “So don’t let me catch you moping about it.”

“I’m not moping,” Ford bristles, leaning away from Bill’s touch. “I’m contemplating.”

“Hah! Contemplating! You hear this guy?” Bill asks an imaginary audience, gesturing at Ford with his thumb. “Well contemplate this: we’ve got ultimate power over the entire multiverse. You might as well be a god. You can spend an eternity studying everything that ever was and ever will be. This is a sweet deal no matter how you spin it!”

Ford makes a noncommital sound. “That very well may be true, and I am grateful to you, but… human emotion is not so easy to logic away, I’m afraid. I want to move on as easily as you did, but…” he shrugs helplessly. “It’s just hard to believe it’s gone.”

Bill pats him on the back. “A little bit of shock is normal! Took me a few weeks to work through. Of course, I was brand new to the third dimension too, so it shouldn’t take quite that long for you. But humans are more emotional than shapes, so I’ll be patient! Don’t say I never did anything for ‘ya.”

Ford doesn’t meet his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Now! You know what helps me when I’m like this? A good distraction! There’s bound to be dozens of my enemies tracking us down right now–it’s not exactly hard to miss a whole planet blowing up. So we’d better get a head start on things, attack first before any of them can put us on the defensiv-” Bill squints at something approaching from the distance. “Hey, what’s that?”

Ford looks up sharply. It takes a few seconds to spot it, but as it gets closer, it’s unmistakable: a steely-gray entirely flat object, no more than two feet wide and long, flying towards them.

Once it’s right between them, it slows to a stop. From above, it’s clearly shaped like a 2D spacecraft, except that all four walls are enclosed, not just the perimeter.

A stick-thin door opens up, and out floats a dozen multicolored geometric shapes, all with skin covering their bodies from above and below, not just around their perimeter.

For the first time in eons, Bill is too stunned to speak a single word.

The leader of the group, a irregularly-shaped silver isoceles triangle, speaks first. “It’s you! It’s really you! We were starting to think you died in the aftermath of our dimension’s death. But the energy signals we’ve been following over the past week… we knew it couldn’t be anyone else.”

Bill’s voice is very quiet, and much less echoey than usual, as he says, “I thought you all died. I made sure you all died.”

The little silver triangle laughs. “Nope! The cleverest of us were able to escape. Your destruction only took the lives of those unwilling to change, unwilling to adapt to the higher dimensions. And the lives we’ve led since then have been so much better than anything our homeworld could have ever offered to us. We owe you a great deal.”

As he listens to this, Bill glows brighter and brighter and brighter, until he’s glowing the brightest that he’s ever been. “I knew it! I knew the worthy ones would live, I knew there was a way out for ones like you!”

He turns to Ford with a brilliant gleam in his eye. “Ford, these are survivors from my home dimension! Do you know how long it’s been? At least a trillion years! These guys are persistent. More than worthy of joining the gang, right Ford?”

Ford looks just as overjoyed as Bill. “Absolutely—but this is incredible! Liberating my dimension didn’t just give me an eternity at your side, but it’s also allowed these shapes to finally find you!” He shakes his head in wonder. “This whole time, you were right, Bill. You were right about everything. If our first act as joint-rulers of the multiverse can accomplish something of this scope, then there’s nothing we can’t accomplish together.”

Bill embraces Ford in a hug that sends them both twirling through outerspace. “Isn’t it exhilirating? Being free from all those stupid little ties to a planet that’ll be dead and gone in the blink of an eye?”

Ford nods wholeheartedly. “There’s a whole multiverse out there for the taking. You’ve finally made me see that.”

He lets go of Bill, and looks back at the handful of shapes floating nearby. “You must have so many questions. I know I do. But I’ll let you catch up with Bill, first.”

Bill zooms back to face the shapes. “Boy do I ever!!! How long do you guys live now that you’ve adapted yourselves to a three-dimensional world, because we’re gonna be here for a while.”

The group settles in for a very long chat, exchanging stories and ideas and many cups of tea. And way off in the distance, far out of Bill’s line of sight, his little world’s edge glimmers with the iridescence of a soap bubble.

[hihiimmimi]

You know what *posts omori fanart without context*

[its-rat-time-babey]

Designing characters is hard.

Small rant about my fic under the cut

While I was trying to come up with a good look for Agent 68, I ended up taking a picture of the real Agent 68 (A character in the old Pitch Bible of Glitch Techs that I’m pretty sure was later redesigned into Inspector 7 after a while) and the Tech Specialist from I’m Mitch Williams because that’s our best look at what someone high up in Hinobi’s corporate ladder looks like, and then I worked from there.

Opened up the Specialist’s trench coat (?) to make sure they were visually distinct, made the entire outfit including the tech armour underneath the coat black to try and invoke a kind of “Men in black”, “Military” or “government agent” type of feeling, adding a red horizontal line to their now solid black visor both because it looked cool and to make sure there were still SOME details that weren’t a solid black.

And then I took a step back

And I realized

FUCK

[arcane-vagabond]

I'm thinking of scrapping We Abide as a fic in order to write it as an actual story. Comments, questions, concerns?

[seriousbrat]

What's the deal with Regulus/Jegulus?

Who knows! The girlies are just doing their own thing and having fun I guess, not my thing personally but let's leave them to it and talk about the real problem here which is Kreacher Erasure!!!

It's all about Kreacher! Kreacher my beloved! I cannot stand idly by while he's left out of his own story. That miserable old elf in his miserable old loincloth was the most important thing in the world to Regulus and the real reason why he did what he did... this is a teenage death eater who has grown up entrenched in bigotry and pureblood supremacy with his murder pinterest board.... and he sacrifices himself for his house elf. because they couldn't get to him, not fully, they couldn't make him not believe that kreacher was family and someone worth showing kindness to and fighting for. and I think that's beautiful 🥺 perhaps most tragic story in all hp certainly one of the more powerful ones in terms of love and loyalty and sadly, oft overlooked

[rykno-j]

What it means to be the Strongest (j/jk)

Again writen with s/atos/ugu in mind, but unestablished, though definitely in love.

Summary: So my previous fic, if i remember correctly, had a line like:

["S/atoru, you've been too strong for too long. Let me take over, even if just for a little while."]

and then i realised i have something like that in my drafts, so why not i just develop the thought a little?

Notes: the timeline for this would be set before my previous fic [here] but reading it it isn't required to understand this one.

possibly written in the context of pre-RCT g/ojo? because i didn't want him to have the ability to replenish himself in any way. cue "Domain Amplification": Exhaustion.

there's also a point in the fic i used single inverted commas, like this: '[text]'. js to clarify, those are not actual dialogue but just g/eto's thoughts. uh.. it will make more sense when you reach that part..

And finally, to cope with the month of wait before Shibuya, I present to you..

3.4k words

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"Satoru, you've been specially requested."

"..Specially requested."

"..Specially resquested."

Geto watches as Gojo visibly deflates, before he shakes his head, expression changing as he stands up with that same bravo as ever.

"Right!! I'll prepare to leave immediately!"

The quiver in his legs don't go unnoticed by Geto.

This has been been happening for the past month. Don't they have other sorcerers that they can send?

The answer to that was obvious.

Of course there was. But who in the right mind would call on someone who was below 'the best option'?

Mission after mission, Geto finds himself missing the company of his friend. Normally, they would go on them together, but the recent spike in cases had left him with barely any space to breathe either, though he was relatively sure they were easier on him compared to Gojo.

He swears the other hadn't slept in weeks. Geto would return to their dorms, and the bed would still made the way he left it in the morning.

The few times he had tried to look under Gojo's sunglasses for eyebags, his hand had been swatted away, either physically or stopped with Infinity.

"Suguruu- I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"..Then look me in the eyes and say that again."

Gojo would laugh in response, waving his wrist dismissively in Geto's direction. "Of course I'm fine, we're the strongest, remember? It won't be fair I claimed to be tired now would it? Not that I am, of course."

Yes it would be, it would be fair. You need breaks too, Geto wanted to say, was going to say, if not for another interruption, this time from Gojo's phone.

It lit up in his lap, before the screen was raised to eye level. Geto watched as Gojo's eyebrows furrowed, shoulders slumping almost unnoticeably in disappointment.

He has seen this play out a thousand times before. As much as Geto wanted to reach out to drag Gojo back down next to him, his hand was frozen to his side.

"Another special request.. ahhh- I guess I better go get ready."

Geto watched silently as Gojo sauntered away, as if he was about to leave for a party, not a possibly life-threatening mission. Seriously.. he was forever taking things too lightly.

Geto wanted to do something, anything. Maybe file a request to give Satoru some space to breathe? Possibly even an argument that allowed him to join in the missions as backup?

Anything.

But there was always the possibility that Gojo would turn down rest, no matter how desperately he needed it. He was wearing himself dangerously thin, like a thread about to snap. All he needed was a little tug to break.

Break.

___

Days later:

"Satoru- want to go get a drink? I just saw the workers leaving, I think they got the machines refilled."

When met with no reply, Geto turned back, only to see Gojo spacing out a distance away.

"Sa-to-ru. Satoru- are you there?"

He walks up to the other, waving an open palm in front of the bowed head.

Behind the sunglasses, Geto sees Gojo's eyelashes flutter open before a finger came up to push them back into position, covering his eyes from view.

"Ah- yeah I'm here. Sorry, what were you saying?"

There he went again, dozing off at every chance he got. Geto noticed that had started happening two days ago. In class, during training, while queuing for food, while standing. And now, even while walking.

"..hH'!! ..hAH'sHHiew!! hh'..heH'tchH!!"

And there was that too. Something was definitely wrong.

"Satoru- when's the last time you slept?"

"I was just sleeping, hahaha-! Didn't you see?"

"That's not-"

"Suguru, if you're going to chew me out for not resting again, I assure you, I'm perfhH'.. perfectly.. fhH'.. fine-"

Geto shot him a look that screamed "Really??", and Gojo would have seen it, if not for the fact he snapped to the side violently, bending over as his breath hitched desperately.

"..hh'-hIH-tcHH'iew!! ..hAH'zZchHiw!!"

"Sa-"

"Dhh'..Don't worry abou'uhH'- hhH'!! hiH'zZchh!! ..hAH'DzZsh'w!! ..a-about me."

With the way he was swaying at the moment, Geto was sure a light breeze could knock him over.

What more, with the way he was standing, slouched over, a passerby would never be able to tell that Gojo was the taller of the two.

Hence, while Geto wouldn't consider himself to be one who actively sought after physical contact with Gojo (that's a lie though), he couldn't help but inch closer to the other, putting a comforting arm around Gojo's waist.

Geto then stared at the top of Gojo's head. Did his hair always look this messy? Surely not. Satoru wasn't one who paid too much attention to appearances, but this was taking it to an extreme.

"You look like you're going to collapse. Seriously. Tell me what's wrong."

"..Maybe- maybe.." Gojo mumbled as a response to Geto's earlier statement. "..Maybe I'm not feeling as well I thought.. haha-"

Geto sighs. "Took you damn near long enough. Come on, let's head back to our dorm. The drinks can wait."

Gojo whined something incomprehensible before he reached out a shaky hand to grab the arm supporting him from behind. He tilted his head up at an angle to shoot Geto a playful yet tired smirk. "Wait.. ahhh- Suguru.. s-sorry- I think.. I think I'm gonna to pass out right now."

Of course. Of course he could still find the energy to fool around in such circumstances. It was one of Gojo's character traits that Geto never understood.

He had half a mind to ask the other to snap out of it. But upon further inspection, Geto watched as Gojo's pupil glazed over with a hazy, faraway look, before it shrunk, eyelids sliding shut as Gojo went slack in his arms.

Seriously. Jokes like these should really be saved for less dire situations.

"..Satoru.. come on, let's go back."

No response.

"..Oi- Satoru.. you can't be serious. Quit fucking with me.."

No response. It's fine. Gojo liked messing with him after all.

"..S-Satoru.. oi Satoru!"

"..Fuck."

"..Fuck Fuck FUCK-! You can't be serious-"

He wasn't joking.

Forgetting that he could always manipulate his curses to handle Gojo's weight, Geto slipped his free hand under Gojo's knees, hauling him into his arms, bridal style.

"..Asshole! You're such an asshole."

'Your asshole though, right?' Geto could hear Gojo's teasing voice in his head as he made his way quickly through the hallway, his pace bordering a sprint.

That's right. My asshole.

Geto placed Gojo gently on the freshly made bed. It was probably the first time in weeks he had laid there. A soft groan escaped Gojo's lips as his head made contact with the soft pillow.

Good. He wasn't dead yet.

However, a quick touch to his cheek made Geto question his previous thought. With a fever like that, how was he not dead?

Quickly grabbing a small towel, Geto soaked it with water from his bottle, wringing it onto the floor before he brought it to the other's forehead. The mess of water puddles could wait. He had more important things to tend to.

Geto carefully folded and set Gojo's sunglasses aside, gently brushing away the strands of hair covering his face. The wet cloth was then put on his forehead.

It's not much, but it should help.

Knowing Gojo, he probably didn't take any medicine since this started. Speaking of which, Geto made a mental note to ask when it did. Gojo had been busy with a mission for the past few days, so it probably meant he was working through whatever this was.

Probably a cold.

The sneezing earlier should have been an obvious indication, but the fever he was currently running sealed the deal.

Geto knew exhaustion would eventually catch up to him. To be completely honest, he had thought Gojo would give in earlier. He must have been holding out way pass his limits.

It was alright to be weak at times, even for the 'Strongest', a concept that Gojo never seemed to understand. Either that or he did, but chose to ignore it in place of his ego and the fact that he didn't want anyone else to get hurt in his place if the curses turned out to the stronger than reported.

Geto suspected the reason leaned more towards the latter. Gojo had always cared about others in his own way, whether he considered them weak or not. Although.. with the way he openly made fun of people around him, it would cause others to beg otherwise.

Geto knew him better than that.

A soft whine drew him back into the present. Geto turned to focus his attention on Gojo. Even in the dimly lit room, his brilliant blue eyes were hard to miss, hard to look away from, no matter how dulled they were from the haze of the fever.

"Suguru.. Suguru-"

"Shh. Rest. I'm here."

"..You carried me here?"

"Mm."

Gojo let out a laugh that looked like it took all his effort. "You're stronger than you look then."

"You're just lighter than you look."

The small exchange put Geto slightly more at ease. If Satoru could still make any conversation into a joke, he was fine. Well, it at least meant his brain wasn't fried yet.

A sharp, feathery inhale dragged Geto's attention back to the bed.

"..hih'tchh!! hh'..hah'tchiw!!"

"Bless you." God. Even his sneezes sounded tired, a complete difference from his normal, over exaggerated ones.

"snff'- ..thanks."

Gojo looked seconds away from passing out again, his fist closing around the soft blanket. Sighing, Geto stood up.

"Alright, that's enough of being awake for you. Go back to sleep, okay? Let yourself rest for once."

"Hah.. so reluctant to talk to me?"

Quite the opposite, actually, Geto wanted to say. Instead, he reached over to straighten the cloth. It had fallen over to cover one of Gojo's eyes, making him look a lot more endearing than Geto would ever care to admit.

"Of course not. I just have something I have to get done, so I'll be leaving for a bit."

Geto turned away right as Gojo's frame sunk into the mattress in disappointment. If he had seen it, there was no way Geto would have left his side for another good year.

"Mm, okay."

Geto was careful not to open the door too wide. It was early in the evening, and he wanted to let in as little light as possible. Satoru had always been sensitive after all.

Behind the closed door, Gojo turned to the side, snatching Geto's pillow into his chest, pulling it into a tight embrace. He was sure the other wouldn't mind.

__

Getting pissed won't help anybody, Geto knew that, he really did. But with Gojo practically forced into bed-rest for at least half a week, he needed to raise some of his concerns to his teachers, at least.

He pulls the classroom door open.

"Sensei-"

"Ah, Suguru. Right on time. I've got a new mission file for you."

"Right. That's exactly what I've come to talk to you ab-"

"Satoru has been specially requested."

"..See that's-"

"But I've written in to specially request you to follow him."

"-exactly what I've been.. huh? What?"

The teacher gave him a knowing smile before sliding a file over the table. Of course. Always doing things in a roundabout way. He's seen that before.

"..Thank you."

He takes the file, quickly leaving the classroom afterwards, his legs taking him subconsciously back to where the dorms where as his hands occupied themselves with flipping through the documents.

Halfway through the mission file, Geto feels something slip out from between the pages. He leans forward to pick it up, a knowing smile flashing across his face.

A small packet of fever medicine.

Seems his teacher had the same idea, that Gojo would never go out of his way to get supplies, if at all, when he fell sick. Well, that saved him half the trouble.

And here came the other half.

When Geto returned to their dorm, he noticed the aura of Gojo's technique surrounding himself. It shocked him at first, but Geto figures that in his vulnerable state, Gojo's mind subconsciously casts infinity to keep him safe.

Though.. it could also have been a side effect from all the dangerous missions that they had put him through for the past month, such that his body was on heightened alert even during rest.

Well that's a first.

He hadn't really been around Gojo while he was sick before, especially not to the extent of passing out like that.

Surely this continuous usage of Infinity counted as over-exertion, evident from Gojo's slightly furrowed eyebrows despite him being asleep. His breathing was also choppier than usual, either due to the congestion or disturbed rest.

Surprisingly, Geto noticed that Infinity seemed to thin out as he approached the bed.

He remembers Gojo telling him, "Suguru- you know, I can totally tell apart your cursed energy from others!"

Was Satoru's body really recognising him and relaxing because of it? Guess that whole 'telling apart' thing wasn't a lie after all.

Geto reaches out a palm and presses it against Gojo's forehead. His hand easily passes through the barrier, making contact with the other. The damp cloth lay uselessly by the side of the pillow, having fulfilled its purpose.

Still warm, but cooler than before.

Gojo whines against the touch as he slowly stirs. "Suguruu- you're backk.."

"Mm." Geto hummed in reply, sitting himself by the edge of the bed. "Did you sleep well?"

"Ah.. not really."

The raw honesty catches Geto off-guard, especially compared to the previous few days, where Gojo would wave him off for being too worried, right up till the point he collapsed.

He supposes that upon admitting "I'm not feeling well", Gojo's walls simply crumbled, leaving him in Geto's care.

The mattress shifted as Gojo turned to the side, a wrist coming up to rub at his nose.

"S-Sorry.. I- hh' have t'hH-!! hih'tchh!! haH'zzchh!!"

He sniffles against his wrist, watching with teary eyes as Geto pulls out a small pack of travel tissues from the drawer before handing it to him.

"Th'hH-!! ..thank y-you.. hH'hihchH'iw!! hah'zzdchH!!"

He pulls out a piece, pressing it softly against his nose. Outside, the sun had barely start setting.

"..snff'.. Suguru- why are you here anyway? Don't you have better things to do?"

Better things to do than look after you? Unlikely. And your Infinity will just go up again once I leave. But of course Geto doesn't say that.

Instead, he raises the file in his hand. "Background information on a mission. I'll have to read it eventually anyway, I can do it here, I've got time."

"..A mission?"

"Yes. For the two of us, actually."

"Really?? I get to go with you this time?" Happiness seeped into his words, bringing an unconscious smile to Geto's face.

"Mm, but I doubt they'd let you go in this state."

Without even looking over, Geto swore he could hear the pout in Gojo's voice.

"Aw.. b-but I wna go with you."

"..Then get better. Quickly." Because I don't want to leave without you either. I'm never leaving you alone again if I can help it.

"Sigh- alright, alright.. I'll get some rest."

"Before that.." Geto suddenly remembered, rising to his feet to retrieve a mug. He should probably get Satoru to take the medicine as soon as possib-

Geto hears a crash behind him.

"SAtoru!"

On the floor, Gojo laughs softly at himself, hanging half off the bed.

"S-Sorry-"

"What were you doing?"

Gojo looked almost embarrassed. "Ah.. nothing, honestly.. I just.. I guess I just.. panicked when I saw you get up.. that's all. I thought you were going to leave again.."

Again? ..Oh, right. He had left for the classrooms earlier. Why didn't Satoru just say something before he did? Forget that. Why didn't he notice?

Geto quickly grabbed a mug, filling it with water before he returned to the bedside.

"I'm sorry."

"Hm? Ahh- it's okay, it's okay.. I was just saying silly things."

"No. Don't say that. It's okay to want company, to need company. That's why I'm here, right?"

"Mm, yeah."

"..Why do you sound so reluctant to admit it?"

Gojo shifted again, this time tilting his head away from Geto.

"..Suguru. Am I'm strong?"

"Mm, why the sudden question?"

"..Am I still considered strong if.. if something as simple as a cold can.. can.. hH'..hih'DzchH!! haH'tchHew!! ..snff'.. fuck. I can't even control those."

"I'd honestly be more surprised if you could." Geto replied, bringing the mug up to Gojo's lips. His voice sounded harsh, and the constant sneezes were not helping. "C'mon, look over here, you should drink something."

Gojo sighed, shifting the tissue away to drink from his mouth.

"Take these too."

"..Medicine? Where did you get those from?"

"Sensei."

"Ahh- damn. He really knows everything doesn't he?"

"Anyone on the outside could tell that you were wearing yourself thin, not just him. Shoko had her fair share of worries for you as well."

Gojo remained silent upon hearing that, seemingly very interested in the cup he was drinking from.

Geto felt his heart skip a beat. Had he said something wrong? Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned that fact it was obvious.

The silence lasted for a few moments, before Gojo inhaled sharply, turning to the side.

"..hH'-aH'zZchH!! hah-hH'tcHHiw!! hiH'dzZch'w!! hH'!!-..snff- hehh'tchhiw!"

Geto startled at the fit, though he quickly collected himself, eyes focusing on what appeared to be an extremely sorry Gojo.

In his hand was the empty mug, its contents having been spilled all over the blanket from the violent jerks, a side effect of the sneezing.

"..I'm s-orry.."

Geto paused in his actions of retrieving a cloth for the mess. Something was wrong. Satoru had a voice break? No matter how cute it was (god forbid he admit that), he had never heard the other say anything with such a broken tone before.

Forgetting the cloth, Geto quickly returned to Gojo's side, wrapping his arms around the shivering frame of Gojo's body, head resting above his.

Gojo froze in place, shocked at the sudden but welcomed contact. The mug in his hand slowly slipped off his fingers, falling onto the covers. A small whine escaped his lips yet again as Gojo's fingers repurposed themselves with grabbing gently at Geto's arm.

He found himself leaning into the warm embarce, turning his head slightly such that his cheek could rest against Geto's chest.

Gojo had longed for this for days. Days. Days. He could feel tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes. From the cold or from his overflowing emotions? He had no idea.

"Suguru. Come lie down with me, please?"

He didn't need to be asked twice.

Within seconds, Geto had climbed onto the bed, getting comfortable under the covers as he extended a hand to Gojo.

"Come. Leave that side. It's wet." An excuse to get Gojo into his arms.

Gojo crawled over to where Geto was waiting, instantly latching onto the other the moment he got close enough to do so.

As Geto's arms close around him once again, Gojo realised that he had never felt so.. so safe, so.. comforted, before. It was a new feeling, one he was afraid of yet welcomed.

He had only known Suguru for a year, but damn was the guy making him question his own feelings left right and center.

A hand found itself on the back of Gojo's head as he snuggled closer into Geto's chest, burying his nose into the folds of Geto's shirt.

Drowsiness slowly started to take over as Gojo felt like this was the first time in forever he was truly allowed to relax. Was it from the medicine? Or was it from Geto's steady heartbeat that was lulling him to sleep? In all honesty, it didn't matter.

Geto felt Gojo relax in his embrace. Once the stuffy soft snores started to slip into a rhythm, he tilted his head downwards, whispering in a low, soothing voice.

"Satoru, you've been too strong for too long. Let me take over, even if just for a little while."

That was the last thing said for the night, as Geto himself started to drift off into sleep, the sun setting behind him

Unknown to the other, Gojo's lips curled into a smile.

Really.. the things Suguru says when he thinks no one is listening. It was going to be the death of him one day.

-end-

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Finishing notes:

this fic actually stemmed from the phrase "what if Gojo's Infinity came up by itself when he's sick?" then it.. became.. this.. somehow..

decided to change their roles here ahhh- caretaker Getoo-

maybe i wrote Gojo a little out of character with the amount of clinging he did to Geto (also the whole DON'T LEAVE ME panic of a sick person in bed), but hey. i'm a strong advocate for clingy sick Gojo, sue me.

i also wanted to keep up the soft Gojo writing, soo i tried the whole "strong character falls weak to a cold" trope thing

BUT i also know for a FACT that i was NOT going to be satisfied if i just let Gojo go out like that, so i tried making his collapse scene exclusively *him*

by that i mean i tried making it slightly humorous. ahh well if it ended up not coming out like that.. it's still fine

also wanted to write a whole "Gojo pretending he's alright when he's not" fic, and was trying to capture the whole "once he admits he's not okay, everything comes crumbling down and he's a mess" thing

i feel like a lot more could have been written in this fic.. but the problem was i didn't know how to.. shshhdhshds im getting better i swear (abit more of this in the tags)

i hope the final scene read as soft as i was hoping it would. just picture Gojo sinking into Geto's hug, smooshing his face against Geto's chest, whining a whole bunch, breathing in his scent

..or maybe scratch the scent part, since Gojo's nose is a little congested//

anyway, hope it was a nice read and thankyou for stopping by!!

▪︎•▪︎

[banapricot]

It's quiet in the wake of the fire, of Shoyo's arrest, of their home being destroyed. The muffled sobs peter out, and they're left to sit in their misery, not knowing what to do when the little they had has been cruelly ripped away from them. 

Then Kentaro starts crying. Wailing, really, like babies do, and it snaps Gintoki back to reality.

His legs nearly give out when he stands, and his arms ache from being pulled too harshly, but he makes his way to Takashi, who's overwhelmed by the screeching infant they must have carried out of the temple. They shove Kentaro onto him with obvious relief, and on a normal day - a better day - Gintoki would complain about always getting stuck on babysitting duty. Instead, he rocks the brat back to sleep and realizes they’re going to have to dump him in some orphanage. 

Already one person he can’t look after for Shoyo.

[loumauve]

printed-out private fanfic collections my beloved

[seiwas]

writing… writing!!! writing???

[sorikkung]

people interacting w wgoin in my notes... this would be a rly bad time to say all my writing will probably be on hiatus for the indefinite future huh

[shadowpeachyuri]

hey im bored what if i posted a fic draft that's been in my notes for a while

[hua-fei-hua]

i'm so pooped from finishing up my zine submission today that i might go to bed before the new year godbless