gerawrdmustdie

[gerawrdmustdie]

Teachers Satosugu where Gojo pokes Geto up in the middle of the night: “Suguru. Suguru! Wake up, I just had the most insane dream.”

Geto groans, trying to block out his husband’s voice and fade back into dreamland.

Geto loves his husband, he truly does.

But the last time Gojo said he had had “the most insane dream,” Geto had been subjected to a two hour ramble about the technicalities of a new technique Gojo would eventually call “purple.”

But for now, Geto wants his sleep damn it!

Just Gojo continuing to invent new ways to utilize his techniques even in adulthood and being so excited to share with his one and only.

Unfortunately for Geto, the prime time for this is typically during the witching hours of the night.

Gojo will call himself a misunderstood genius. Geto will agree that he is a genius, and that he IS kinda misunderstood, BUT COME ON.

At 3AM? Really??

The next day, Gojo will explain his theory to Yuji - who never misses a chance to hyped his Gojo-sensei up.

However, Yuji did just listen to his sensei spout out fifty technical terms about quantum physics and mechanics…you best bet everything went in one ear and out the other.

(Gojo: “See? Yuji-kun totally gets it!”

Geto, muttering: “He has spirit, that’s for sure.”)

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

[gerawrdmustdie]

Thinking about Nobara asking Geto-sensei to take a photo of her and Yuuji and Megumi after their first mission.

Later that night, Nobara looks back and sees that Geto-sensei’s finger was in the corner of the frame the whole time. 😭

See, he’s from the flip phone era where he never needed to worry about moving his finger out of the camera’s way.

Also, Yuuji and them are OBSESSED with 0.5 pics! But they can’t properly take one of their senseis because Gojo and Geto are so tall…

Gojo would be up for the challenge though.

Geto: “What are you doing?”

He’s sitting on their couch reading a book when his husband suddenly walks up and hovers a phone over Geto’s head.

Gojo: “Shhh I just wanna take some pictures”

The camera shutter goes off twice before Geto is swiping Gojo’s phone away.

[gerawrdmustdie]

[Gojo Satoru is beautiful. But he’s also real.]

In the summer of 2006, they are invincible in the way all seventeen-year-olds are invincible

They sit under the shade of one of Jujutsu high’s many trees. Suguru, belly flat on the ground, ankles wet with morning dew, nose buried in some yellowed pages of a book. Satoru, back splayed against the soft grass, palms defiantly pressed against the azure blue sky.

“Yo, Suguru,” Gojo interrupts only the sounds of the cicadas and the wind, squinting through his glasses,“what d’ya think they’ll make us do on our next mission?”

“Mm?” The brunette brushes his bangs out of his eyes, shutting the book, shifting his attention to the boy with the white hair and gorgeous blue eyes.

“Our next mission…ah, I don’t know. Probably something manageable…Grade 2 curses or something.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Gojo shrugs, retuning to lie flat and stare at the sun, bright blue peeking through the gaps in his eyeglasses.

He’d do this sometimes. Think up some redundant question and ask it out of the blue, as if in between the longer moments of quiet, he felt the need to remind Suguru of his presence. (It’s not like Getou, or anyone, really, could have ever, in any lifetime, any cosmic trajectory, forgotten.)

Sometimes, Suguru wondered what he’d done in the past for this celestial-like being of a boy to be lying beside him now, in the sticky-hot summer air and wet grass, speaking to him about the little irrelevancies of their high-school lives. Wondered if this was just some cruel joke. Between his dreamy, crystal-cobalt blue eyes and the way the sun cast misty shadows of his white lashes on his undereyes, none of it felt real, all of it a sickly-sweet fever dream, balmy heat of summer and the boy who looked like snow.

[gerawrdmustdie]

Geto-sensei does not keep up with the younger generation’s lingo. 

His search history includes: 

"what does it mean to "stan" someone?"

"how to know if the "vibes are off?"

"what is an "ick"?"

***

Geto passes by the classroom where his students are surprisingly actually studying but overhears Yuji’s loud voice say: "To be delulu is the solulu!"

What does that even mean? Geto thinks to himself. Do I even want to know?

***

Nobara would exorcize curses and go, “ITADORI-KUN, WE ATE!”

Nearby, Geto chokes on his own spit. “YOU ATE THE CURSE???” *prepares for potential Sukuna visit*

***

The second years ask if Geto has any tea to spill.

"Not at the moment, but there's a stash in the kitchen," Geto answers off-handedly. 

He receives three disappointed deadpans and one sympathetic stare (thank you, Yuuta).

***

Gojo is actually fluent in the younger people’s language these days. 

Nobara will ask: “Geto-sensei, on a scale of 1-10, how would you rate your level of rizz?”

Geto: "My WHAT?"

Gojo popping in: “Yo, your Geto-sensei actually has no rizz - that’s all me!”

Geto: “????”

***

Geto: "Satoru, you need to take classroom lessons more seriously"

Gojo: "But Suguru,,, I'm just a littol guy" 🥺

Geto: "No tf you're not, stop it??? You're scaring me."

***

Nobara and Gojo have an eternal dispute because Gojo is appropriating phrases like girl dinner and girl math. Please, Nobara is SO ANNOYED. 

Gojo to himself after going down on Geto: “Guuuurl dinner~”

Geto: “Uh? Did you say something?”

Gojo: “Oh no, nope, nothing at all~~~” *takes Geto in his mouth again*

***

Geto has tried to use the terms himself before, but they never seem to land. Maybe that’s just his fate as the uncool, outdated teacher…

Geto to his students: "All right, is everyone ready to SLAY their exams?"

[crickets]

Geto: ...

Geto: "And...leave no crumbs?"

The classroom has never been so silent. 

Yuji tries to awkwardly vibe with him, but Geto is already banishing himself to the corner in shame.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

[gerawrdmustdie]

Imagine teachers Goge. First years Yuji and Nobara have just enrolled and they only know Gojo as “Gojo-sensei.”

Then they meet Geto-sensei who is in charge of the second years but handles a lot of the first years’ classroom lessons.

Geto-sensei keeps referring to a “Satoru” as if Nobara and Yuuji should know who that is?? 🤔

“I know this is a lot of information to memorize, but trust me that diligent studying with methods that work for you will help you tremendously on your exams,” Geto explains. “Not all of us can learn all of this from a young age like Satoru. Lord knows he’s also been gifted photographic memory.”

Megumi sighs dramatically.

Nobara is focused on her phone and Yuji is nodding like he actually understands these "Satoru" references.

It’s partially Gojo’s fault because he just introduced himself as “Gojo-sensei” and partially Geto’s fault because he assumed the new students knew Satoru was their Gojo-sensei…😭

One time, Geto’s phone rings and he quietly answers it: “What is it, Satoru?”

Oh, context clues! Yuji and Nobara at least know their Geto-sensei seems to be close to this Satoru.

Are they…??

Is Geto-sensei in a relationship?

Nobara brings it up to Gojo on one of their missions.

“Gojo-sensei, is Geto-sensei in a relationship?” She asks.

Gojo visibly glitches, choking on a piece of daifuku. Nobara and Yuji give him puppy eyes, pleading for an answer, while Megumi has gone MIA.

Gojo: “What makes you ask that?”

Nobara: “Believe it or not, Geto-sensei is quite a catch! He’s very well-spoken and polite. Super knowledgeable, handsome, and also a special grade! Who wouldn’t jump at a chance for a piece of that?”

Megumi: “Hold on-“

Gojo: “Interesting observations-“

Yuji jumps in: “Yeah yeah! But we also think he’s taken! Erm, well, he always mentions a ‘Satoru.’ Maybe that’s the name of his girlfriend?”

Megumi, under his breath: “A guy’s name?”

Gojo lasts about five seconds before he bursts into uncontrollable laughter.

Gojo: “How scandalous of Geto-sensei! Oh ho, a girlfriend indeed…You know, with news as groundbreaking as this, I believe you should ask him yourself. Get the nitty gritty details and all that.”

Yuji and Nobara: 🫡🫡

The next class period, before Geto can even rattle off the introduction to their lesson, Nobara’s hand shoots up into the air.

“Geto-sensei, I have an extremely dire question that cannot wait!”

Clearly taken aback, Geto holds his spot in their textbook with his finger on the page.

“Yes, Kugisaki?”

“Do you have a girlfriend? And if yes, is it this Satoru person you keep mentioning?” Nobara asks.

“I- excuse my language, but what the hell?” Geto blurts out, snapping the textbook shut. “Are you serious?”

Nobara snaps out a “How dare you think I’m never serious!” while Yuji comes in as back up.

“As serious as Fushiguro takes his academics, Geto-sensei! We recognize that you are a very attractive and capable adult, and hypothesized that the ‘Satoru’ you keep bringing up must be your girlfriend.”

Nobara nods along.

Megumi is trying to melt into the ground.

“We don’t mean to offend you, sensei. Just an honest question,” Yuji finishes. He then stands up and bows 90° for damage control.

Geto: “Okay guys, I hate to disappoint but I’m not answering this right now. Moving on to our lesson, which is what we’re all here for…”

After class, Yuji and Nobara are a bit bummed because they did exactly what Gojo-sensei suggested and they were left with nothing. No confirmation or denial. No answer at all.

Megumi has gone back to his room, leaving the other two first years to their own shenanigans.

Having had enough of classroom thinking for awhile, Yuji and Nobara decide to get some last-minute training in.

Except by the time they get to the training fields, they see two people already sparring like their lives depended on it - causing quite a ruckus.

It’s Gojo-sensei and Geto-sensei!

They’re so busy fighting that they don’t notice Nobara and Yuji, who quickly hide behind a tree.

Geto-sensei is yelling at Gojo-sensei too, something about putting dumb ideas into their students heads? And spreading false rumors ?

Finally, Geto-sensei manages to pin Gojo-sensei down in their hand-to-hand combat.

Geto sits on top of Gojo’s abdomen, restraining Gojo’s wrists to the ground. It’s here he leans down to boldly slip off Gojo’s blindfold, revealing bright blue crystalline eyes.

“You owe me, Satoru. Dinner’s on you tonight.”

Gojo just laughs, loud and happy, and says: “Fine. Whatever my dear Suguru wishes.”

He wiggles one of his hands free to tug Geto down by the nape, and their lips press together in a passionate kiss.

***

TBC

w/ @no-one-says-hi

[gerawrdmustdie]

As teens/as adults

[gerawrdmustdie]

he's so clingy

(comm info/ kofi support)

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a moment of peace before the whole world shatters 😇

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Pov you stan with your cult leader canceled wife

[gerawrdmustdie]

chronically online gen-z harry and roadman tom riddle, part 2

read part 1

[tom’s first day at borgin and burkes]

tom: bossman got the Slytherin locket. it’s mad ice

harry: you’re in your jewellery era? you = onika slayed = burger

tom: tsk AS I WAS SAYING, i couldn’t get my hands on it bc i was serving bare customers. but it’s calm yknow?

harry: try not to get mad challenge (impossible)

tom: best believe i’m boutta loot bossman ‘fore that dead ting hepziah gets her moist hands on it

harry: wow that’s so criminal of you… mama i’m in love with a criminal

tom, staring at his mental bf fondly: you’re fucking nutters darlin

harry: you knowwww, customers aren’t the only thing you’re serving…

tom: that so?

harry: you’re serving cunt 💅🏼 pop off queen

tom: :/

[gerawrdmustdie]

chronically online gen-z harry meets roadman tom riddle:

tom: listen here bruv, I'm gonna shank you in DADA—

harry: me when i show up to DADA and my opponent is tom riddle

tom: what you saying big man???

harry: you slayed

tom: are you batty or what??

tom: nah fam i ain't working in the ministry, thats for the neek mandem

harry: that's so anti-capitalism core of you omg go off

tom: why you speaking all fruity for?

harry: bro's in his non corporate era

tom: tf that mean??? say it with your chest

harry: get your bag queen

tom: aight are you mental

harry: scary boots

tom: fucken geezer

tom: yeah i went to my ends and—

harry: get your steps up

tom: —yeah yeah listen and i found my dad’s crib

harry: go off familymaxxing king

tom: and i avada'd em all

harry: ... double homicide

tom: couldn't find me mum though

harry: maybe your mum was the friends we made along the way

tom: …

harry: :)

tom, muttering under his breath: fucking wasteman dunno why i find him leng

harry: no literally

tom, eyeing harry: ooof peng ting looking like a touchdown

harry: you think i ate? 🥹

tom: you already ate? i thought we was gonna grab a munch together

harry: big back

tom: …

harry: i love you

tom: yeah ok love you too darlin

harry: we got a love confession before GTA6

[gerawrdmustdie]

Harry and Tom had been pushed together by circumstance ever since they’d both sorted Slytherin.

The students from other houses watched them distrustfully due to their house and having no one to really vouch for them. (Harry’s name didn’t hold much weight if he wasn’t in Gryffindor, it seemed. The professors who’d known his parents certainly brought it up often enough for him to draw that conclusion.) 

And, since all of the other Slytherin first-year boys were purebloods who’d known each other since birth, they all paired off with each other, leaving the two odd ones out as roommates.

They’d both been wary of the other at first, but after a few weeks of keeping to themselves and not trying to start anything, they fell into a quiet coexistence. When their housemates were bigoted arses, Harry would stand up for Tom; when they picked on Harry for refusing to go with the flow, Tom gave them several reasons to stop. 

It wasn’t a friendship, necessarily, but they had each other’s back. Neither had to be on guard in their shared room.

Even when Tom’s status began to rise, both in Slytherin and the school more broadly, he didn’t change how he interacted with Harry. 

Until halfway through sixth year, that is.

—

Tom turns seventeen over the winter holidays and Slughorn is suddenly much more liberal in sharing his liquor collection with his favourite student at the parties he hosts. Now, more often than not, Tom returns from these parties with a bit of a stumble in his step. 

And some confusion over which bed is his.

The first time it happens, Harry snaps awake in the night, tense and alert, to a weight landing beside him on the bed. He has his wand pointed at the lump before he realises it’s his dorm mate, passed out on his stomach and snoring lightly into Harry’s duvet. He shoves the sleeping boy, who mumbles something dire at him without waking. 

“Tom,” he hisses, poking the boy in the face. Nothing. No response whatsoever.

…Eh, whatever. Harry is tired and Tom isn’t in a state to do anything, and it’s just one night.

A few hours later, Harry wakes up alone. Tom corners him after breakfast and threatens him to keep silent. Like he’d go around sharing that he and Tom had slept together.

When he says as much, Tom’s cheeks take on a pink tinge as he looks at Harry with mild incredulity. But he ultimately accepts this and they ignore each other for a couple days before falling into their former manner of living together without really interacting.

And that’s how it remains until the second time Tom returns to their dorm intoxicated and slips into Harry’s bed. Harry, already occupying the bed and half-awake from the disruption, rolls over to see who’s trying to spoon him. Seeing Tom and not caring enough to make a fuss about it, he curls back up and drifts off immediately.

He wakes up first and has the unique joy of witnessing a hung-over, grouchy Tom Riddle curse the light, this morning, Slughorn, alcohol, and mornings in general, before opening his eyes to see Harry staring at him in amusement. 

Tom groans and buries his head under a pillow. “This doesn’t leave this room,” comes the muffled command.

“Obviously.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I.”

“I will spell all of your clothing to the appropriate size and make you wildly uncomfortable if you breathe one word.”

“Jesus, Riddle, I said I wouldn’t say anything,” Harry mutters. “Save the thumbscrews for your ‘social club.’”

“I simply want you to understand the seriousness of the situation.”

And that’s the end of that.

(Harry wonders if there should be more weirdness. Surely two teenage boys repeatedly sleeping together in the same bed would be weird to most people. Harry just finds it funny.

…And maybe he enjoys Tom’s warmth. But that’s it!)

By the third time, Harry’s ready. He knows Tom is attending one of Slughorn’s get-togethers tonight, and will likely imbibe and return tipsy. He’s prepared.

When Tom swans into their dorm room a little after midnight, Harry’s finishing up a twenty-four inch essay on the principles of re-materialisation due next week. (Hey, if he's staying up and can’t wander the castle, he has to do something.)

Tom stops short. “Why are you not in bed?” he asks, brow furrowed. “You should be in bed.”

Harry huffs a laugh. “I should be, shouldn’t I?” He stretches his hands above his head and turns in his chair to face Tom. “How was your night?”

“It was dull,” Tom says with a roll of his eyes. Drunk Tom is so much more expressive, Harry thinks gleefully. “No one new to meet, and Professor Slughorn kept trying to parade me around, like I’m some kind of show pony. Dreadful.”

And then he flops back onto Harry’s bed, staring with unfocused eyes at the ceiling. “...Horses should have fangs.”

...What?

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not a pony – I’m at least a stallion, if I have to be a horse,” Tom explains like this should be obvious. “But horses aren’t menacing enough; they don’t have sharp teeth or claws, either. I would only be a horse if I could have fangs.”

And, well, when he puts it like that, Harry finds himself agreeing. Madness is communicable, it seems.

“Oookay, let’s get you to bed,” he says, putting out the light on his desk.

“I am in bed.”

“Not quite.” He grabs the drinking glass he’d set aside earlier.

“Harry, come here,” Tom demands petulantly, swaying as he sits up on the edge of the bed.

Harry shakes his head and holds out a glass filled with water. “Nope, you have to drink this first.” 

He can hardly believe his eyes. Tom Riddle – perfect, untouchable, inscrutable Tom – is pouting at him like a child denied a sweet. He wishes he had a camera.

“C’mon, you’ll thank me in the morning,” he cajoles.

“If I drink the water, you’ll come to bed?” Tom asks, somehow achieving wary puppy dog eyes.

Harry bites his cheek to keep from smiling. This is adorable. “I will – it’s my bed, after all.”

“Very well,” Tom says with gravitas and a slight slur to his words. He accepts the glass and drains it in four gulps, then meets Harry’s eyes and raises his eyebrows.

“Congratulations, you did it,” Harry deadpans. Riddle scowls at him and pats the bed meaningfully, so he laughs and gets in on the other side.

(He left a couple paracetamol and another glass of water on the nightstand closest to Tom earlier, anyway. He is prepared.)

By the time he’s put out the lights and gotten situated under the covers, Tom has shucked most of his clothes, down to his undershirt and boxer shorts. When he reaches for the hem of his shirt, Harry scrambles to grab his hands and says, “Whoa, let’s just keep that on.”

Tom frowns at him but doesn’t argue. He does lay down and tug Harry closer, cuddling him like a stuffed animal.

“Tom…?” Harry says faintly.

Tom hums into the juncture between Harry’s neck and shoulder. “Good night, Harry.”

Harry stares ahead into the darkness. “...G’night.”

He expects it will take him a while to fall asleep like this, but the warmth of another body and the susurration of Tom’s breathing so close to his ear lulls him to sleep before he knows it.

—

When he wakes up the next morning, cosy and well-rested, Harry comes to a decision.

This is silly.

He feels Tom slowly returning to the waking world, laying half on top of Harry and looking much less green about the gills than he had last time. One of Tom’s eyes cracks open and he grumbles into Harry’s chest, curling closer and dropping more dead weight onto Harry.

(He knew Tom wasn’t a morning person, but he’d never before understood just how much.)

Harry says, “Before you start with the hostilities, I feel you should know that, for one, I wouldn’t tell anyone about your sleeping habits anyway. It’s none of their business.”

Tom grunts; Harry takes it as a request to continue.

“And secondly: You can sleep in my bed even if you aren’t drunk, you know. I don’t mind.”

Tom tenses.

“We don’t even have to talk about it, if it’s just sleeping.”

Tom doesn’t relax.

“If this is something more than that, then...”

Tom rolls so his face is completely hidden in Harry’s shoulder. “...Later,” he says, muffled and low.

Harry blinks. 

Huh.

“Yeah, later,” he says.

At this, Tom lets out a breath he’d been holding, slowly draping an arm over Harry’s waist. Harry pats at it with his hand and relaxes deeper into the mattress.

“Later’s just fine.”

[gerawrdmustdie]

If we where made for each other

How come that I have to exist without you in this life ?

[gerawrdmustdie]

happy valentine's day harry <3

[gerawrdmustdie]

Tom and Harry dont fuck with pet names like “baby,” it’s “the light of my life, the flame of my soul, my only and dearest kindred spirit” or nothing

[gerawrdmustdie]

Harry being abused all his life and when he’s taken to Voldemort one day, he expects death but Voldemort just looks at him and touches his bruised face and says in a deadly voice, “Who did this to you? No one but me can hurt you."

[gerawrdmustdie]

Voldemort: I can touch you now!

Harry: *Moans* Be gentle, it's my first time

Voldemort:

Voldemort: Why do you always have to make it weird?

Harry: If I stop being weird I'll literally die