#it kinda SLAPS
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Once upon a time i actually used to write more than tumblr rants
Heres a little soft and horny piarles being soft and horny for each other:
Who left the blue veins of your throat unkissed? | 2.4k | explicit
âPlease what, bebe? What do you want?â Pierreâs voice is soft in the quiet room
âPlease, donât make me wait tonight. You think you were the only one holding back?â Charles knows the effect his words will have on Pierre
Or
Charles and Pierre come home after a night out and Pierre can't wait to get his hands on him.
#why am I promoting this now?#because i reread it for the first time simce posting and you know what?#it kinda slaps#piarles#f1 rpf#my fics
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actually if we make charles/james incestuous in six lives I think that makes charles' murder THAT much more heart wrenching. tbh
#im so glad charles came first bc then the ship would be james/charles and i would have to kill myself#anyway i know it sounds nuts but considering the circumstances of the story#it kinda slaps#hmm#we could make this work#six lives won't make you happy#tw incest
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there is love in our bodies and it holds us together but pulls us apart when we're holding each other
#myart#ffxiv#zenoswol#they're sleepin skdjfhjksd#i was gonna do sunny morning but i was messing with layer modes on the dark blue#and this color combo just fucks#sdkfjhsdk there's some sort of poetry in how you can't see the scars zenos has given eyrie#but you can see the ones they've given him#it kinda SLAPS#okay to reblog
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@queer-and-utter-chaos can you tell which alter dressed us for the job interveiw today? đ (weâre wearing all green and Earth tone shades)
#this is the most Frances fit#it kinda slaps#for two pieces that donât go together#and donât fit us#we made it work#I need new clothes#host alter#working host#OSDD#osdd 1b#osdd system
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Thanks for the tag  @toxicrevolver <3
Share the top 6 songs I've been listening to lately
Work it - NCT U
Halazia- ATEEZ
Solitary Man - Johnny Crash
Vampire - the Orion Experience
Hot N Cold - Katy Perry
DJ - NCT 127
Tagging whoever wants to do this!!!
#uhh I heard Hot n cold in the grocery store the other day for like the first time in 10 years and now its in the rotation#it kinda slaps#Work it is ruining my life tbh#I probably listen to it as much as all the other songs combined#ask and ye shall receive#NOT onlyoneof
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whos aftraid of little old me really the only song on this album
#i get it#it kinda slaps#the rest lazy#like if it was instrumentaly more interesting id shut my eye to the kinda generic lyrics that seem to overlap in half the songs#like ehhh#if she was gonna go alternative with the persona and the whole im different i dont care im in love with a rat ass man like ok#but musicaly she could have tried harder#fucking synth pop will kill me one day#the vibes shes tryna give off she could have had electric guitars drums big production instead of this#but thats a me problem i hate her synth pop and shes doing almost exclusivly that rn#wouldove couldove shouldove type vibes for the instrumentals would have been a hit here but alas#and florida!!! + clara bow#thats it thats the whole album
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LMAO HELP đ
Llenergy posting (Lloyd x Source Dragon)
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i forgot about the arcade fire song with pan flutes
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Getting lunch rn they're playing a rock cover of funkytown in here
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Humans are Space Orcs: Melons.
Okay, hear me out. Humans are omnivores, and this is widely known throughout the greater Galactic Alliance. They have insane tolerance to things most would consider poison, and can eat just about anything deemed nonlethal by most other races (there are, of course, some exceptions).
Anyway, there's no need to wait for an animal to be ready to eat. Sure, a deer that's too young or too old won't have as much nutrition, but there's nothing stopping you from eating it. Fruits and vegetables have to grow and ripen before humans can eat them, and are often determined ripe based on color and size.
Now imagine, if you will, an alien crew visiting their human's home in Earth during the summer. Some of them are drastically overheated and have to stay in the ship, while the more heat tolerant species are out and about with the human at a grocery store.
"Human- I mean, Sarah, your parent mentioned requiring a 'watered melon's for the third meal, yes?"
"Watermelon, Chi'l'zak, but yeah, Dad did ask me to pick some up. Why?"
"Well, there appear to be some over there to choose from."
"Oh, nice spot! Let's see here..."
And the alien's watch in as their human picks up the biggest melon in the pile and observes it for a moment, presumably checking the color, only to smack the large fruit, frown, and set it back down.
"Hu- Sarah, why did you put down the fruit?"
"It's just not quite ready yet." The human picks up another melon, smacks this one a few times, and sets it down.
"But I thought these 'grocery stores' only sold ripe foods?"
"Well, everything here is technically ripe, but that doesn't always mean it's ready. I mean, the avocados they sell are ripe, but they aren't usually ready to eat. They don't taste as good, or they're too hard. You just have to know how to pick your produce. Ah, here we go!" A few smacks to a new melon, and Sarah looks pleased. The melon doesn't appear any different from the others.
"How are you certain that one is the best? It is colored the same as the other fruits, and is smaller than some. Surely this fruit isn't ready, as you said."
"Of course it is, Chi'l'zak. Here, listen."
Sarah smacks the watermelon they'd picked out a couple times, then smacked the first melon they'd picked up. "See? They sound different. That's how you know this one's good."
"But Human Sarah, those sounded exactly the same."
"No they didn't."
"Well, how were they different then?"
"I dunno. They just don't sound the same."
They ended up bringing home the ready and unready melons to display the difference. Anthropological notes were updated that night in the ship's log.
"Ripeness of human fruits: Some fruits on the human Mother Planet can be identified as 'ready to eat' by sound. The preferred method seems to be to smack the fruit known as 'melon' with an open appendage and listen. While most of the team were able to notice any significance between a ready and unready melons, human participants were able to easily distinguish ready from unready melons and select accordingly."
#just kinda hit me how weird it is that we tell melons are ready by slapping them#i know what a ripe melon sounds like compared to an unripe melon but i couldnt explain it if i tried#it feels like one of those things you just know#humans are space australians#humans are space orcs
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find another role, carry on the show
#EDIT IT DIDNT SAVE MY TAGS. hey so this post got a thousand notes huh. interesting. surely nothing will change#i'll leave all the old tags. for my thought process. and its kinda funny#take a bow stupid idiot (throws a tomato at them)#in stars and time#isat#siffrin#siffrin no middle names no last name àŽŠà”àŽŠàŽż ËÍÌêłËÍÌ )â§#... or is it. Smiles#i'd like to draw mira for her birthday but um (hasnt open artfight website in a few days) im scared.#also i have NICE ASKS TO ANSWER.... But im scared. give me a minute#Uawaaaaagh i drew this bc i was trying to animate a little bit but it just . Didnt look good. im not good ag 2d animation#tch. ill keep trying cause there ar e way too many songs that and now about isat because i have brain worms. i need amvs.#IM SCARED TO POST THINGS THAT ARE SPOILERY BECAUSE I WANT MY FRIENDS TO PLAY ISAT. BUT.#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#sasasap#sasasa:p#WHAT IS THE PROLOGUES TAG.#tshirt that says 'i <3 killing the image in the mirror and taking its place' on the fromt#and a list of megan thee stallions tour dates on the back. ăé皌ăäżșăăŻăčăżăŒ#Im kind of tempted to edit this to be the versiom with the eyes. or maybe twt can have that. or. well#all of my friends are on twt (trombone slide sfx) so maybe thats where i should worry about spoilers.#ill see if i want to slap an eyepatch on them in the morning#Im one of those people who was like idgaf about twohats (lets it simmer for a week) Oh my god. Oh my god. Ohmy god#EDIT. i swapped it out for the Eyes version it should be fine as long as its tagged formspoilers right...#ill post eyepatch vers on twt partly bc spoilers but also ppl over there can be .. annoying ..... ....#i fear i would get 800 You Forgot The Eyepatch replies. PLEASE JUST SEE MY VISION.#[BANGING MY HANDS ON THE GLASS] HIS HAND. LIKE IN THE PROLOGUE. WHEN THEYE. HANDS. HELD[EXPLOSION
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a rug hook commission for @stickynotebirds! :O (who also drew the original sketch/design and I tweaked it a little bit)
#rug hooking#artists on tumblr#fiber art#had a very fun time working on this :]#I think this is the biggest one I've done so far (20x20) so that was really fun to see when it was completed#-squints- I think actually 20x21? mfhgj the backing fabric either got a wee bit stretched on the frame#or because the yarn is kinda packed in on this one haha#forgot to take a pic of the back but I printed out these little fabric tag labels to sew on#sending international mail had me sWEATING hahaha#but thank god for online making things so much easier where you just print it out/slap it on and it's fine >:'D#edit: wanted to wait till it arrived safely to post this (and it has!!)
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IF YOU ASK ME TO LEAVE, IâLL STAY FOREVER ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists thereâs no need to take care of him. thankfully, youâre 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, heâs cute when heâs sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, heâs also a huge sap you have been warned!!
a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the âsatoru gojo needs to be babied relentlesslyâ club <33 heâs 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
youâve never seen satoru like this before.
head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead â 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.
itâs nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru youâre so used to. heâs weak. heâs fatigued.
heâs completely, undoubtedly sick.
âreally, baby,â he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. âthereâs no need fâ ââ
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.
âah. thatâsâŠâ he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. â⊠annoying.â
satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell heâs resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. heâs still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up â you can practically feel it, from where youâre standing, crouched down by his bed.
youâve never, ever seen satoru like this. youâve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. youâve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters.Â
but youâve never seen him like this.
(and it makes you terribly anxious.)
âsatoru, please just ââ you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. âdonât overdo it. please?â
you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you canât do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoruâs lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind.Â
he looks so small.
this wasnât 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 crĂȘpe stand heâs 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 â 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 canât 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 wouldnât let up until you brought out the đ„ș emojis.Â
and then he told you he was fine. itâs all he ever is, apparently.
my throatâs just a little scratchy, is all. wouldnât want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?
give me an hour and iâll be perfect for you. <3
moron.
heâs curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you canât make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this â 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 shouldâve 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 theyâre coming from you.
and here you are. in satoruâs house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick.Â
but he just wonât listen.
âjust â gimme a couple minutes, honey?â your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. âi just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i ââ
âsatoru.â
thereâs a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality.Â
and it makes him quiet down.
(he doesnât 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 â 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. youâre frustrated, and exasperated.
but most of all, youâre worried.
âgo back to sleep,â you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. âiâll take care of you.â
âthereâs no need,â he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness.Â
but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like youâre much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. itâs 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 canât 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.Â
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.Â
so youâre delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him â 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, youâre sure, still agonizing over the date heâs missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.
but it doesnât 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 â and your hand stays between his locks until youâre sure heâs asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.
youâd 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 mightâve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still wouldâve made you feel happy. useful. and you wouldâve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, heâll 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.
satoruâs 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 youâre almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesnât invite you over very often, so youâve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. itâs always the other way around â him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing donât 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 â he sleeps a lot better that way. thatâs 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 arenât really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears itâd be too much, too intimate, that heâd pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter youâve grown so fond of. so you figure itâs 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. thatâs safe for him.
and now that youâve seen his home up close â if you can even call it that â you think youâre starting to understand his preference. because itâs spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isnât anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasnât even bothered to make it his. like itâs about to be sold, and youâre just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.
it doesnât feel like satoru at all.Â
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 donât think heâs touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when heâs 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.
thereâs 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. youâd live in it if you could.Â
something constricts, inside your chest â 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, shouldnât it? itâs 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.
satoruâs loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone whoâs so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesnât seem to make any noise when heâs alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face.Â
thatâs 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 theyâll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.
but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you wonât push it â that youâll let him take his time. that youâll let him flee, just a little.Â
still, you canât help but wish heâd lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but itâs a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it.Â
all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until heâs had his fill.
(youâre not sure he ever will. itâs a good thing, a very good thing, because youâre almost certain youâll never run out.)Â
and thatâs why youâre 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 itâll 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.Â
you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that heâs the only other person in the apartment; you know itâs him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.
itâs 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 doesnât even get the chance to speak.
âsatoru ââ 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. heâs still so warm, too warm. âwhat are you doing here? you should be resting.âÂ
your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears canât quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act â to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what heâd say if he wasnât in such a feverish state; heâd hug you from behind, a low purr of whatâcha up to? whispered right into your ear. then youâd jolt, and heâd 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.
âcâmon, you need to lie down.â 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. âthe soupâll be finished soon, okay?â
â⊠you made,â he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. âsoup ââ a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens.Â
âdonât push yourself, okay? youâre really sick, dummy.â satoru pouts, but doesnât say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. âletâs go back to your room, alright?â
but he wonât budge. heâs so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.
âhoney,â you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. âwork with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed ââ
ââsâŠâ he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if heâs too sick not to be. â⊠too lonely without you.âÂ
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 doesnât keep you close. heâs holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadnât already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly wouldâve 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. itâs a wonder your knees donât buckle.
gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like heâs a clingy, overgrown cat. âsorry,â you start, just a little breathless. âiâll be with you, okay? wonât leave you alone. i promise.â
thereâs 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.
âtoru, gotta go finish that soup. ân make you some tea.â 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. âplease, sweetie? it wonât take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.â
another groggy huff. youâre both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still wonât let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck.Â
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 â as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize whatâs 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.
âiâll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?âÂ
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 heâs resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response.Â
when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. heâs still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. âiâll be back soon, baby,â you try to soothe him. âtry to sleep.â
this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like heâs arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, youâre 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 â 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.Â
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.Â
âcareful,â 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 canât even seem to form words correctly â all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead. Â
his fever still hasnât gone down. you try and muster a smile, but youâre sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. youâre at eye level with him, now.
âhey,â you start, low and comforting. you donât want to be too loud. âsorry it took so long.â
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 â lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.
âdâyou think you can eat?â you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you canât help it when heâs like this. quiet as a mouse. âi made soup and tea⊠sound okay?â
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.Â
â⊠okay. think you can sit up, toru?â
once again, your boyfriend only hums â 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.
âthank you.â 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. âhere. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? sâ got honey in it.â
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, itâs hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue.Â
satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he canât 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 canât 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 heâs in a fever dream. youâre sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he canât take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. âthanks.â
the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadnât realized youâd begun to miss his voice so much.Â
âno problem,â you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. âthink you can eat something? or is that too much?â
ââcourse,â he croaks. thereâs a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasnât there before, but before he can continue, heâs caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry.Â
âno need to force yourself,â you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea mightâve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still donât want him to overdo it. âjust relax, satoru.â
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.Â
âi dunno if itâll taste very good,â you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. âbut it should help with the fever, at least. iâd be happy if you could eat a bit.â
as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru canât help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend whatâs happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesnât keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment heâs 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 mustâve worked on it. but more than anything, the way youâre acting is like balm to his soul â 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 heâs almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around.Â
yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because heâs 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.Â
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 satoruâs appetite dwindles.
âalright, that should be fine ââ you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. âuhh⊠how do you feel?â
â⊠better,â satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. âthank you.â
for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. thereâs something in satoruâs expression that catches you off guard, something thatâs 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 heâs looking at you like heâs trying to convey something he canât put into words?Â
as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you canât help but feel like he just carved open his chest â let you peek inside his ribcage. itâs hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.
and heâs thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something youâd demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that itâs 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 heâs safe, here. that thereâs 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.
â⊠okay,â is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. âthatâs good.â
satoruâs 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. theyâre 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.
â⊠love you,â he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes donât leave his face, and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.
âi love you too,â you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldnât bear to keep him waiting. â⊠satoru.â
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 canât bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore.Â
heâs still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. âthanks for coming,â he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. âyou didnât have to.â
theyâre a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but theyâre honest. he is thankful â the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesnât mind nearly as much if itâs you. heâd 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 heâs 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.Â
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 â 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.Â
(satoru thinks youâre nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows itâs not true. thereâs no way he wouldnât remember you.)
you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. âi wanted to,â you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. â⊠i care about you. of course iâd come.â
a light, raspy chuckle; thatâs all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and thereâs an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. itâs been there for a while now. but somehow, some way, you manage to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly â 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.Â
âwhat did i do to deserve youâŠ?â
you blink. a moment passes.
then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. heâs 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, youâre the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.
âiâm the one who should be saying that to you,â you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you donât think youâve ever meant anything more.Â
itâs 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 donât 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.Â
â⊠do you want anything else?â 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. âiâll get it for you, no matter what it is.â
and, truthfully, satoru thinks youâve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but heâs always been greedy, and thereâs one thing, only one thing, one thing he canât help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he canât help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his.Â
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 mightâve been embarrassed if he wasnât 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 heâs 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 â deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further.Â
you wouldnât have it any other way.Â
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, heâs 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 youâre cradling the whole world in your arms.Â
youâre relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping heâll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesnât get nearly as much rest as he should, most days.Â
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, youâre acutely aware of something poking your cheek.
itâs a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams â satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.
still, you canât 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. heâs 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.
âwell hello there,â he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. âwakey-wakey, sunshine!â
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 youâre here, what happened before you fell asleep.Â
â⊠hey,â you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. âhow do you feelâŠ?â
âiâm perfect. better than perfect, actually,â satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that heâs hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. âyouâre a good nurse, yâknow?â
you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words â you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. âalright, thatâs good,â you hum, exhaling softly. âhow long was i asleep? what time is it?â
âi woke up just now, too,â satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks mustâve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldnât take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. itâs a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.
âitâs pretty late,â he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. âway too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?â
another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then youâre 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.
âitâs only four, satoru.â
âway, way too late,â he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. âgod knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour â much too unsafe. iâm just looking out for you, baby.â
âof course,â you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. âyou know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?â
âwell, of course! i wouldnât expect anything less from my favorite nurse.â
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 â reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand.Â
itâs significantly less scalding, now.Â
you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didnât know youâd been holding in. âit really has gone down,â you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. âthatâs good.â
satoru huffs. âi said i was perfect, right? donât you trust me, my sweet lover?â
âi never know with you,â you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. âyou said you were just fine this morning, too.â
âi was!â he whines. piling up lie after lie. âi totally couldâve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.â
âright. of course.â you shoot him a lopsided grin. âyou just donât wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?â
âsee? no faith.â a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. âunbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.â
âoh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?â
âwell, that too! but it was mostly me.â
a sigh. âwhatever you say.â then youâre smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. âiâm just glad youâre better. i was worried.â
satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it â 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 canât fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.
âyou really thought a lilâ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?â he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. âcâmon, now, baby.â
another lighthearted roll of your eyes. âyeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.â
âdonât you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?â
âdonât think i didnât notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.â
âhehe.â
a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoruâs weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. youâre so happy that heâs acting insufferable again.
âalright, my honeybee,â he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. âtime to go. we can still get those crĂȘpes if we hurry.â
you blink. once, then twice.
â⊠satoru.â
âyeah? whatâs up?â
you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought youâd be alright with letting him leave. âyouâre⊠not going out today,â you deadpan. âyou know that, right?â
this time, heâs the one who blinks. once, then twice.
âhuh? why not?â
âuh, because youâre sick, maybe?â
âwhat?â satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he canât believe youâd even suggest something so outrageous. âiâm all better, though!â
you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? âyour fever isnât gone, satoru. itâs just not horrible anymore. youâll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.â
âi wonât! seriously!â he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. âi feel good enough to run a marathon!â
âyouâre not doing that either,â you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you canât let this charade go on for too long. âcome on, satoru â donât be so stubborn. we can go there another time.â
âbut ââ
âbesides, didnât you say i have to spend the night because itâs too late to go outside? remember the creeps?â thereâs amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. âwhat if they get us?â
âwell, they obviously wonât get you while iâm there,â he huffs. âwhat, you donât think i can protect you properly? youâre hurting me, angel.â
you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, heâs stubborn. youâre so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.
âsa-to-ru,â you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. âweâre not going outside. end of discussion.â
âwhy not, though?â he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. âdonât you wanna go on a date with me? you donât want to see me happy, is that it?â
you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. âyouâre such a baby.â
âyour baby.â
another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.
âcanât we just have our date here?â you suggest, after some contemplation. âi bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isnât that enough?â
satoruâs 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 crĂȘpe; wants to steal a bite when youâre 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.
(heâs maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)
so, finally, he sighs â softly. in resignation.Â
â⊠well, i guess thatâs fine,â he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. âi wanted crĂȘpes, thoughâŠâ
âiâll get you your crepes,â you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. âi can go buy âem myself and come back. then we ââ
âno, no, no!â satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. âyouâre not going anywhere. not without me!â
a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. âthen iâll⊠order crĂȘpes, or something. or weâll eat ice cream today and then crĂȘpes when youâre better. does that sound okay?â
satoru is silent, for a while.
â⊠okay,â he hums. âthatâs fine.â
âhaah. okay, good ââ
âhowever!âÂ
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. âinstead of the crĂȘpes, i want a kiss.â
you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. âso convoluted. you can just ask, you know?â you donât give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. âwhatever.âÂ
leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, heâs still pouting when you pull away. âi meant on the lips,â he explains, as if it was obvious.Â
a tilt of your head.Â
â⊠but youâre sick.â
âso?â satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. âyou wonât kiss me anymore? just cause iâve got a tiny, miniscule fever?â he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. âif you donât love me anymore, you can just say that.â
another sigh leaves your lips. heâs so ridiculous. you canât really deny him, though.
â⊠fine. itâs your fault if i get sick, though.â
in the blink of an eye, heâs 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 youâve pulled away. ââ there. happy now?âÂ
âfor now,â he quips, equally teasing. heâs 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.Â
âthatâll do,â you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. âwanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?â
you donât really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. youâve never seen him turn down anything sweet â and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy.Â
âgot it,â you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. âthereâs soup left, too. but maybe youâd rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.â
satoru gapes. âyou kidding? that was the best soup iâve ever had!âÂ
his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. âsatoru. you donât have to lie.â
âiâm not!â
âyou couldnât even taste it.â
âi could, i could!â he stubbornly whines. âi tasted all your love. every single drop!â
you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you canât help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff. âyeah? and how did my love taste?â
satoru leans forward. itâs sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. heâs wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.
âdelicious,â he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. âbest thing iâve ever had.â
you know heâs just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesnât work nearly as well as youâd like â 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.Â
as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. âwell, you can have more of it later, then,â you make a move to get off the bed. âletâs go eat ice cream.â
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.
âyou should probably get a change of clothes,â you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. âyouâve been wearing that shirt all day.â
âoh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?â satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. âyou know you can always just ask.âÂ
you huff out a sardonic breath. âyeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.â you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. âand some pants.â
âyou donât like the underwear?â he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. âthis is an expensive brand, you know?â
âyouâre the only person on planet earth whoâd give a fuck about underwear brands,â you scoff, a little snarky. âjust â put some comfortable clothes on, okay? iâll go get the ice cream ready.â
âwait!â he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. âyouâre not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?âÂ
â⊠okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.â
sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone â refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, youâre well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. you wonât give him the satisfaction.
when heâs done, heâs wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. itâs 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 donât 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; youâre much too soft for him. and heâs still sick, even if heâs doing better. you couldnât resist him even if you tried.
so you opt to indulge him.
âbaby, i think my feverâs going up againâŠâ satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. âcan you check?â
you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. âthis is the fifth time youâve asked me to check your temperature, toru.â
âjust wanna make sure,â he whines. âplease?â
with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead â humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasnât gone up. just like it hadnât gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.
âyouâre good.â
âoh, thank god,â he exhales. âare you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.â
âsatoru,â you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. âyou can just ask me if you want a kiss.â
âa kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesnât worsen.â
heâs grinning, and youâre rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well youâre going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.
âhmmâŠâ you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ânope. definitely still the same temperature.âÂ
âyou sure?â
âa hundred percent.â
âhmm. okay, got it.â he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. âthatâs good. just wanted to check, you know?â
âof course.â
âmight need you to check again soon. just to be safe,â he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you donât bother hiding yours.
âgot it, got it,â you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. âanything for my sick baby.âÂ
satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you canât help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movieâs almost over, and you simply canât help yourself anymore.
âyour room is very like you.â
itâs sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. youâre both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.
â⊠oh? how so?â
âwellâŠâ you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriendâs hair. âwhen i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?â
satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk.Â
âbut then i went into your room, and â it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.â satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. âmaybe it doesnât make sense? i guess iâve just been thinking about it.â
he closes his eyes.
thereâs something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell youâre being sincere. itâs something he likes about you â that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you arenât sure that heâll return the favour. he likes to think itâs rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesnât think heâs quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isnât something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isnât afraid that youâll use it against him.
youâre 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.
âi like your place more,â 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. âit feels very⊠you.â
a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. âhow so?â
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. âitâs⊠homely. warm,â his smile only grows. âand awfully sentimental.â
he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. itâs warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoruâs love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders â you think youâd be happy to lie in the ashes. heâs smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.
âi wouldnât mind staying there forever.â
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 donât think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin heâs shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you canât look away.
you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, youâve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. itâs all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.
you donât realize youâve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.
âyouâre cute,â 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.
â⊠you can.â
he blinks. still smiling.
âstay forever, i mean.â
you canât look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you arenât sure if theyâre conscious or not. itâd be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. itâs the one thing youâre 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 itâs something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.
â⊠well,â he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. âmaybe i will, then.â
you reach something.Â
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. itâs there and then it isnât, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then â
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.)
âŠ
satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. âthis movieâs awful, huh?â
âyeah,â youâre quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. âitâs good in a so bad itâs good kinda way, though.â
he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasnât 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 â heâs not sure he could take it.
satoru doesnât get sick often.
his immune system is strong, thereâs no denying that. but more than anything, he simply canât 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 â stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended â makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though heâs gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.
itâs funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasnât 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. heâs 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 â itâs funny, for sure. satoru never thought heâd ever enjoy being sick.Â
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 wasnât 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.
youâre so good to him. thereâs nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. heâs glad you came over, after all. glad youâre so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru canât help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude â what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?
âi love you so much,â he blurts out, practically beaming. now youâre 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.
âwhere did that come from?â you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last â your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.
âjust felt like saying it!â he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. âi love you. youâre the best thing that ever happened to me,â he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. âmy whole world.â
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 youâre pushing him away. itâs overwhelming, but youâve never minded. this is how you measure his love â little gaps between too much and never enough.
â⊠youâre not gonna say it back?â comes a whine, right by your ear. now heâs nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. heâs being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest.Â
âi love you too, satoru,â you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. âmy whole universe.â
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 heâs got you in his lap like this. if he could, heâd keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be.Â
even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and youâre watching a good movie, and youâre gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, heâll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then heâll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and youâll grumble all sweetly, and heâll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. youâll 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.Â
if the feverâs gone by then, youâll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crĂȘpes, 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 heâll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.
living together with you wouldnât be so bad, he thinks. it wouldnât be bad at all, actually.Â
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 canât think of anything heâd like more. maybe heâll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal â but if he has to, he doesnât mind doing it himself. youâre 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 heâs thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks thatâs for the best. he knows youâll indulge him, at the end of the day.
maybe heâll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.
#save me sick soft sweet sappy satoruâŠ.. save meâŠâŠ..#he means the wholeeee universe to me :â3 i love this specific toru sm !! i really do think heâs a lonely sweetie at heart :((#i wrote this fic a LONG time ago but i polished it a bunch so hopefully it doesnt feel rusty !!#i scrambled to come up w a title in time but i think this one kinda slaps idk ⊠im severely sleepy rn so it might. Not be. though đđ#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x y/n
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the depths
print
#totk#botw#loz#link#zelda#elgatoiberico#finally done this shenanigan of a scene#I wanted to try doing something a bit more ambitious#also punchy#or rather action...y#I've also been feeling kinda lost with my art and what I wanna do with it so this was basically a âtry it out and seeâ piece#what I ended up seeing is that link is so small#I mean sure he's small but he's small x 2 here#sorry link all the glory goes to the bokoblin getting slapped#on a completely#ok nearly completely#different side note did anyone else take a while to figure out how to fight armoured bokoblins??#bc I needed a moment to understand and it really did take me a Moment and then some
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HonseâŠ..
#i like how this turned out!! it kinda looks like a fuzzy sticker#like the ones you scratch and sniff. heâd probably smell like mango strawberry#had several color passes but i gave up and just slapped the luminosity layer on him#my art#myart#mlp#my little pony#mlp sunburst#sunburst#mlp g4
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Friends!
#a continuation :)#I think the colurs in the Mabel and alberto piece is a little odd so sorry about that#I really like how dipper and Luca look though!!#kinda slapped w that one#my art#luca paguro#luca#pixar luca#alberto scorfano#dipper pines#mabel pines#gravity falls
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