#this was so fun n personal for me

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

how deep is your devotion? ; satoru gojo

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank u to @softgirlgonehaywire for having the biggest brain in the world and infecting me w this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading u can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes. 

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself. awfully amused.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise your brow. unimpressed.

satoru steps back. inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 

his knight. his favourite knight.

“.. fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily.

his chest is heaving. lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire.

”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then; 

“i’d do it, you know.”

a questioning hum. “do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing.

enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from the faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

#u both catch a cold the next day <33 #anyway i am normal about the devotion of a loyal knight paired w the devotion of a man who’s only ever loved one single person in his life #shoutout to knight x royalty dynamics for inventing romance #i wanted to get a good balance on prince!gojo’s twisted side and soft side so i hope i did ok!! :’3 #hes a kind man at heart he rly is but i think being born at the peak of the class pyramid does smth to a person lmao #i didn't touch on it in the fic but he would have turned out a lotttt more twisted if he hadnt met reader as a child … #what if i was ur knight..;;; and u were my prince….;;;;; and we changed the trajectory of each other’s lives 😳😳 👉👈 #mickey if u see this!!! tysm for letting me write abt this concept i had so much fun!!! this fic is for u <33 #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen

[scourge-sympathiser]

SCOURGE SUNDAY 025/???

BLESSING leader of WATERCLAN

#scourge wc #warriors #warrior cats #scourge warriors #wc scourge #scourge #scourge warrior cats #bloodclan #scourge sunday #this 1 goez out 2 the classic fanz LOL if u recognize him this is post number 3 with inverse scourge #didnt change his deisgn much bcuz to be honest i open at work tomorrow n it is. 1:30am #alwayz wanna do colored lashez but somhow i find thm... so hard....... #also evry1 keep an eye on my non warriorz blog im close 2 finally finishing a big ref commission im rllyyy hapy with #im very funny as a person bcuz i feel bad for how long it haz taken me but 4 som reason my reaction 2 tht is to. put off working on it #n thn i feel worst. repeat forevr #also might make a just stright up inverse color verison of this design somtime the patterning is fun i think tht would be neat #ok gn #or as it will be once i actually post this. gm

[minalots]

MORE WOLFWOODS?!!!!?!?!!?????

#wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #tristamp #trimax #here’s some of my personal design notes for them #tristamp ww is more softer/rounder than trimax #his hair is very messy n i just think adding splashes of color and graphics like outlines n halftones to my tristamp doodles makes it seem— #more modern in a way ig??? ya get me??? #anyways trimax ww is just. SUPER SHAPED. lots of sharp edges!!! so fun!!!!! #i like to think his hair is usually yknow spiky n compact into its shapes until he gets unhinged to which it slowly becomes disheveled— #and messy and softer. Like if his hair lost its gel that was keeping it together or something. anyways his eyes are normally black until— #he starts feeling extreme emotions so they turn white auaghwwg i just admire nightow’s way of drawing ww he is just !!!!! so cool!!!!!! #ww is just very fun to draw in general im so glad i got into trigun bc of him ehehehejgeeh #i forgot to mention i draw each of them with different brushes to get different textures n stuff idk if it was noticable #da gallery

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Y/N being cute making white clover crowns and rings for Sun and themselve

Sun is so smitten

#daycare attendant x y/n #sundrop #fnaf sun #daycare attendant x reader #automaton au #my art #i just wanna do fluff rn #also this is for that one person with the white clover flower ask #fun fact this is how i got my girlfriend: ate all the food at our date picknick made a flower crown for her and then fell aslp on her lap #so flower crowns as a way of flirting is fully approved by me #i also ate half her food and she still liked me so #anyways i think y/n is developing a deep fondness for sun and moon at this point

[tora-the-cat]

An interesting little fun thing with team 7 is that you assume that Sakura's gonna, like, woobify and simplify Sasuke by putting him on a pedastal,cause her goal is centered around him and shes a 12 y/o fangirl so like of course her understanding of him is skewed cause she doesnt see him as a person, just an object of affection, right? She's can't get Sasuke, can't imprint on and/or traumabond with him like Naruto and Kakashi do. They don't see him with rose tinted glasses, because they've lived through their own Horrors and empathize with Sasuke's experience.

......right?

WRONG lmao!! They have too many ghosts!! Naruto's single-minded codependent ass won't get out of his own way long enough to see Sasuke for who he actually is, only able to empathize with the parts of his trauma Naruto relates to and not really capable of understanding him outside of the context of himself (because Sasuke is. His other half). And Kakashi is far too jaded to be fair to him!! He can't decide if Sasuke is gonna end up as a mini-him or a mini-Obito or maybe a mini-Itachi, but either way he ALSO is too traumatized to see Sasuke AS SASUKE.

meanehile SAKURA'S autistic ass may have dogshit empathy, but you know what she does have? A special interest in sasuke. Nothing better to do then give herself a degree in Uchihaisms. She can write character studies about him. she can read his soul. Whenever she says something about him she is right. Every fucking time! She is RIGHT!!!!

'sasuke would NOT compliment me this directly or explicitly express worry unprompted, especially if it gets in the way of his goals' correct.

'Sasuke shouldn't hide that curse on his neck its not healthy BUT if I tell anyone about it he'll never trust me again, which might be even more dangerous for him then the curse mark. Like he can probably handle the curse mark but no one else can stop him from ripping peoples arms off.' correct.

Speaking of! 'Sasuke would not hurt me even when he seems to be...possessed? whatever the only way to knock him out of it is to present myself as Alive and thus something to be protected rather then something to be avenged, because he gets really stuck in his own head about revenge' CORRECT

'hey so um. like. Sasuke's gonna leave Konoha. I'm not sure anything can stop him at this point and honestly I'm kinda starting to doubt anything should, so the only thing I could possibly do to help him at this point is ALSO defect.' CORRECT!!!!

#shout out to @Obihoe cause this started as a tag comment on one of your posts that got WAY too out of hand. just like old times lol #team 7 #haruno sakura #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #team crackhead #naruto #naruto uzumaki #sasusaku #doesn't have to be but like. Yeah #for the record no disrespect to my boys Naruto n Kakashi I love them dearly. but like. they got their issues. that's half the fun of team 7 #And Sakura has her problems with Sasuke too!! But her problems have nothing to do with understand him or his motivations or his personhood #and more to do with. Well. her absolute dogshit empathy. Emotionally disregulated ass. #'if you leave me I'll feel just like you did when your parents died' My beloved. Iconic. Great line. No notes. She's really just still so #inexperienced and naive that means she can explain and predict and KNOW him and his actions but still not empathize. She can say shit #like that with a straight face because she's never FELT loss like this before (except that minute she thought he was dead on the bridge) #so she can't imagine a worse pain. Just assumes it can't GET worse because she has no emotional concept of 'worse'. so it must be the same #she's literally the only person with a chance of convincing Sasuke to take her with him to Orochimaru because he's SASUKE of course she #knows all the right pressure points and keywords and concerns and stuff that she needs to convince him. #she's literally playing a little diolouge tree game with him. And maybe even winning up until that line! it's the dealbreaker

[quirinah]

going fusion mode with friends 

#rc9gn #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk #quirinahdraws #doodle #digital #sketchdump #rc9gn julian #randy cunningham #first ninja #qi xiaotian #testing out new brushes srry it’s a little shoddy #magical girl julian goes hard though. btw #school has been destroying me so I’ve been drawing like a crazy person when I have the time LOL #this was so fun though…quick n easy microwaveable character design exercise

[notfreetoday]

MPW Ep 2 Subtitle Corrections

Subtitle Corrections: Ep 1 here

Cultural/Language Tidbits: Ep 2 here

Same translation disclaimer applies. Thanks to everyone reading the first post and geeking out with me in the notes, I really appreciate it XD Ok, Ep 2, let's go! Sorry in advance for the length!

If you're wondering why Yoh's freaking out about the rainy season even though they've been together for 3 years, the manga artist posted a clarification on twitter:

By the way, “it’s been 3 years since then” – that phrase refers to it being 3 years since that conversation regarding the slave contract. As for living together, they’ve only just started (to do so) around Mar/April*, so (at this point) it’s only been a few months (for them). What if (I) got it wrong…. I remember making a note of it, but the file that I wrote it in and passed over (to the crew) couldn’t be found right, so… (was it) a dream?” *Japan's rainy season comes around June/July, so this means that this is the first rainy season these two have been experienced together.

[Y: まずっ] Y: Tastes bad In case the original "that sucks" sounds like Yoh might be talking about the news of the young forecaster - he's really just talking about the food here.

[S: 遅くなるからいらねぇっつっただろう] Original: I told you not to bother since I returned late Mine: I told you I wouldn't need it cause I'd be late right? This is actually a pretty harsh sounding line tbh. It's sort of inkeeping with Segasaki's curtness, but still pretty harsh - so this tells us he's tired after a long day, and explains the frown on his face that Yoh just wipes away with his cuteness

Nikujaga literally means meat and potatoes. It's a stewed dish and a very well-loved comfort food. Super easy to make too (link goes to an easy to follow recipe, and the site also explains a little about the dish).

[Y: 本当、顔だけはいいよな] Y: Really, it's only his face that looks good.

I've talked about this in my cultural/language tidbits for this episode (linked up top) but I'll add it here for completion's sake

[Y: あ、いや。なんでもない…です*] (Ah, iya, nandemonai…desu*) Y: Ah, no, it's….nothing* Yoh let's his sentence trail off before tacking on a "desu" at the end. "Desu" is an ending verb characteristic of "polite" speech, which Yoh doesn't use frequently with Segasaki (in fact, by this point, he has not used polite speech with Segasaki at all, except for maybe saying the full form of the word "welcome home", and even that's pushing it). Here he adds it at the end as an afterthought (the polite form of "iya" would be "iie", if he had wanted the whole sentence to be polite from the get go), which tells us that Yoh's feeling a little off-kilter here, and does introduce the slightest distance between him and Segasaki. We'll see this distance increase as the episode goes on.

[Y: いや、どう考えても食べ過ぎだろう] Y: No but, no matter which way you look at it, (he's) eaten way too much hasn't he? Btw, if your hair started standing at the spoon scraping the pot - in the manga artist's post about visiting the shooting venue (as well as during Ep 1 twitter space) it was mentioned that Mashiko, the actor, can actually cook, so during filming they had to tell him what someone who can't would likely do, and also asked him to do the housework poorly (because Yoh's not supposed to be good at cooking or housework hahaha)

この人*、明日も朝早いんだよな。たぶん。 Original: This guy, has an early morning again tomorrow. Probably. Mine: This person*, has (to leave) early tomorrow morning too. Probably. *The word here is "kono hito", literally "this person". There's actually nothing wrong with the translation "this guy" tbh because that's a fairly neutral term in English, but I'm highlighting it here because in his monologues, Yoh usually refers to Segasaki using much rougher language, such as "koitsu, aitsu", except when he addresses Segasaki directly in his head. I'll talk more about how Yoh addresses Segasaki in the analysis post, but for now - this sentence hints that Yoh has clocked Segasaki's tiredness (subconsciously or not) and is feeling a little bad for him. Then again he quickly hides that by adding on "probably". (Adding the word "probably" behind your sentence is a common way to express doubt/negate what you just said, and incidentally is commonly used by comedians to deliver a punchline).

[Y: あの*…あの…寝るなら部屋でとおもって。] Original: Um… Hey… You should go back to your room. Mine: Um*... Um... if you're going to sleep then, (it would be better to sleep) in your room - at least that's what I thought...

*"あの…" (ano…), translated as "um" here, is a common sound you use when you want to get someone's attention but don't want to sound too demanding - it actually isn't being polite per se, but it does show the hesitancy with which Yoh approaches him. Contrast this with the way Segasaki gets Yoh's attention (so far it's just been "Yoh" or "Oi" - the latter of which you would NOT use unless you were close to the person, or looking for a fight).

As a general rule of thumb, the level of politeness in Japanese is directly correlated with the length of the sentence and just how far you can beat around the bush. So, Yoh's suggestion that Segasaki goes to sleep in his room is literally just "if sleeping, then room..." and everything else in that translation is assumed. He may not being using polite speech forms here (that would be "to omoimashita" instead of "to omotte") but this is still a common way to be polite because he's making a suggestion that is so mild Segasaki can choose to ignore it. This is a great example of Brown & Levinson's "negative politeness" which we'll revisit when analysing their speech patterns, and which you can read about in entirely too much detail here (free to read).

[Y: じゅあ、俺は寝るので** あの、その、そういうことで、おやすみ] Original: Then, I’ll go to sleep. That…sort of thing. Good night. Mine: So then, I'm going to bed, therefore**... Um... that... with that... night!

"Therefore" is an awkward translation for the word ので (node), which is more often translated as "so". I've chosen to use that word because "node", whilst again not a polite form per se, is less colloquial than the more commonly used "から(kara)", to mean the same thing. It tends to pop up more in writing than in speech. "Therefore" doesn't make a sentence polite/formal in English, but it's definitely less colloquial than using the word "so". The use of "node" is just that tiny bit out of place in this sentence paired with the informal pronoun "ore" for "I" as opposed to the more formal choice of "boku".

Again, Yoh answers Segasaki properly here with a "はい (hai)" as opposed to his usual "un" (which is a sound that expresses agreement), when told that Segasaki will be late again. There actually aren't very many moments where Yoh does speak politely to Segasaki (he's definitely rude when he talks about Segasaki in his head hahaha), so these moments stand out. This whole short exchange, together with the random -desu he added earlier, just make Yoh's sentences a little more stilted/awkward, and more distant. Individually they don't deserve much mention at all, but together, and in the context of his jealousy, show just how unsure Yoh is about where he stands with Segasaki.

[Y: あの人の帰宅が遅くなり] Y: That person returned home later and later

"That person" - similar to the above usage of "this person". This sentence is incomplete - the verb form of the last word - 遅くなり (osokunari) indicates that there should be a second part to the sentence (the "completed" form would be osokunatta). But after he says this, there is a pregnant pause, as Yoh puts his phone down and continues cooking alone. The pause continues all the way into the next scene, before the sentence continues, highlighting the loneliness that Yoh feels.

[Y: 当然、触れられることもないままに] Original: Of course, he did not touch me at all Mine: (and) of course, (I) remained untouched (by him) as well

The literal translation for this would be "(the situation in which I) was not touched (by him) continued on as well". Yoh uses the passive form of the word "touch", which places the emphasis on Yoh "receiving" the action of being touched as opposed to placing the emphasis on Segasaki "carrying out" the action of touching Yoh. Consider the difference between the sentences "I was hurt by him" and "he hurt me". The former is the passive form, and is super common in Jp, much less common in Eng. If this is confusing - welcome to Jp grammar just know that the emphasis of this line is more on what Yoh does not have, rather than what Segasaki has not done. It accentuates Yoh's feelings of emptiness and loss.

Y: すっかり日々は過ぎて Y: The days pass by completely ...

Similarly, this sentence is "incomplete", and is instead continued by Segasaki walking in and telling Yoh he'll be late again. (This whole bit just hurts my soul tbh, Yoh is so lonely. )

This is a teruteru bouzu aka a charm of sorts for good weather. See the cultural tidbits post for Ep 2 linked up top for more info!

This is said really strongly, and gives the "what the hell are you doing" feel. Yoh's truly upset here.

I try not to care about some of the subs in these side conversations because they don't add much to the main story and these posts are already too long, but this sentence should really be "Dammit, maybe I should (go) troll the chat" (and the previous sentence should be "If this was broadcasted in a certain country it would be instant death" aka N.Korea ^^;) and I just think it was a nice touch to hint at the fandom wars/flaming that goes on between fans hahaha

[Y: ��んどい] Y: This is too draining The word here used is "shindoi", which is a term used when you're feeling mentally/physically exhausted/drained, and carries a sense of frustration (at feeling this way) and sometimes (emotional) pain.

This. Is. Huge. Segasaki does 2 things here - one, he rejects an after-work meal, which you rarely do because Japan is all about the group and rejecting a group invite, to welcome a new member, can make you seem like you aren't a team player - two, the guy who invites him is his senior, which you can tell because Segasaki sticks to polite speech forms whilst the other guy does not. It's still relatively casual, so you can tell he's got a good working relationship with them (probably why he's not worried about rejecting them) but still. In Segasaki's world, Yoh is the No. 1 priority.

This is more accurately "WTF". There are many sounds in Japanese that aren't exactly words, but carry a lot of meaning - "Haa?!" is one of them, and is a very rude way to express a lot of anger and shock. Please, never say this in real life. You will royally piss off whoever it's directed at and if you are outside a Shibuya bar you will get punched.

The word used here is てめぇ (temee), which is a really rude way to say "you", and has the same energy as "you bastard". Segasaki usually uses the informal pronoun "omae" for "you" when he talks to Yoh, he's definitely pissed off here.

This is the same word, "shindoi" again.

I'm going to put the rest of the whole argument here with just my translation because it's too long to screencap the whole thing.

[S: 何なんだよ？このエロい惨状は Y: うるさい。 Y: 俺は売れっ子エロ漫画家になるんだ S: なんだそりゃ。おい *takes away beer can* Y: 売れっ子さんが　シコリながらネーム描くと　いいのができるって言ってた S: なんも描けてなかったぞ。 S: おい、だめだっつってんの S: 飲みすぎ　出すもん出して　寝てただけだろう Y: 黙れ！ Y: 俺はエロくて　抜ける漫画描いて　いっぱい稼いで Y: 早く　こんなとこ出ていくんだ S: はあ？　おい、お前　どういうつもりだよ Y: どうもこうもないよ！ Y: 平気で抱かれてると思うなよ 。 Y: 俺のこと、好きでもないくせに Y: 便利な奴隷としか思ってないんだろう？そんなにやりたきゃ隣のキャスターとやってろよ S: お前　さっきから　何を... Y: 俺はあんな風に笑いかけられたことない]

Breakdown: S: What's up with this? This lewd disaster of a scene Y: (You're) annoying! ["うるさい (urusai)" is often translated as "shut up", but it literally means someone is being "noisy", and here is more of a complaint that Segasaki is being bothersome] Y: I'm going to become a hot-selling erotica manga artist! [the word used here is 売れっ子 (urekko), which literally means "someone who gets huge sales" and mostly refers to idols, entertainers, TV personalities etc. So Yoh is not just saying he's going to become popular, he's saying he's gonna be like a celebrity manga artist, which is why Segasaki snorts a little at this] S: What's with that? Hey. *takes away beer can* Y: The hot sellers say that if you jerk off whilst drawing your storyboard, you'll come up with good stuff [urekko-san is a pretty cute way of referring to these popular artists] S: You've not drawn anything, you know? [this is said with a really indulgent air, which contrasts directly with the more authoritative tone of the next line] S: Hey, I'm telling you no more *grabs beer can* S: You drank too much. You just shot what you shot and then went to sleep didn't you? [And this is back to an indulgent tone - also, everyone knows Segasaki is talking about cumming here, he just doesn't actually say it so directly] Y: Shut up! ["黙れ (damare) - contrast with "urusai" earlier. The former is used much less commonly and really does mean to "be quiet". This is why Segasaki pauses and looks at Yoh. Up until now Segasaki just thinks Yoh's gotten drunk and is whining cutely, but this word means things are serious.] Y: I'm going to draw manga that is erotic, that you can wank off to, and then earn lots of money [this is a call back to the conversation with Man-san over the phone in Ep 1, which I did not include earlier because I didn't think it was important to the story when Yoh says "the work that was released last month was amazing! There was a big buzz around the topic "I can't wank off (to this)" - Yoh was being sarcastic here, meaning that he got reviews that his work wasn't erotic enough] Y: and leave this sort of place soon! S: What? Hey - what (the hell) are you thinking? [Again, "haa?" here shows he does NOT like what Yoh's saying, but he does soften the end of the sentence with a "yo"] Y: I'm not thinking of anything! Y: Embracing me so easily - don't think you can (keep on) doing that [again, this is the passive form, so the emphasis is on Yoh being embraced, and here has the nuance of "don't think I'll just (keep on) being fine with being embraced (by you) like it's some sort of norm"] Y: when you don't even like me [this line has quite a bit of bitterness in it - the emphasis here is strongly on Segasaki and his apparent "non-liking" of Yoh my english is dying.] Y: You think of me as just a convenient slave, don't you? Y: If you want to do it that much, go do it with that forecaster next to you! S: You... from the start... what have (you been saying?) Y: I have never been smiled at like that before [again, this is in passive voice]

It's obvious from the acting alone that this entire argument is pretty emotionally charged - this is also reflected in the language because Yoh uses the pronoun "ore (I)" a lot. Pronouns are frequently dropped in Japanese - often you can go an entire conversation without ever uttering the words "I/me" or "you", in part because the pronouns are assumed and also because emphasis on an individual can come across as too selfish/narcissistic or direct. Segasaki uses them often enough with Yoh, which fits his personality, but Yoh normally doesn't. So, when he uses "ore" here it stands out - his plans to be successful and leave, his feelings, his interpretation of Segasaki's actions - all of the emphasis is on his own self. The message is very clear - Yoh is hurting a lot more than he is blaming or accusing Segasaki.

[Y: もう疲れた。あんたといると疲れる。嫌いだ S: お前　酒入るとめちゃくちゃしゃべるんだな Y: ねぇ、何で雨の時はだめなの？ S: はあ？　だって、お前が言ったんだろう] Y: (I'm) tired out. When (I'm) with you, (I) get tired. Hate it. [We've lost the "I" pronouns here, because the emphasis is on the extreme sense of physical and emotional fatigue as opposed to Yoh himself, and on how much he dislikes that feeling. Of note, "hate" here is closer to "detest/really dislike" - the word is "kirai" - which is not as strong as the word "nikui" which we talked about in Ep 1 when Yoh said he hated the part of him that always listened to Segasaki. Also, this is the first time Yoh has addressed Segasaki with the pronoun "you" out loud - he uses "あんた anta", which he also used in his head in Ep 1, after they did it. Again, we'll talk about this in the analysis post in the future, but for now just know that this term is usually used between older couples.] S: You... once you start drinking you really start talking huh? [literally, you "become able to talk"] Y: Hey...why is it when it rains, (we) can't do it? S: What? Because, you said so didn't you? [the last "haa?" from Segasaki! This time expressing his surprise and slight indignation.]

[S: 俺は優しいんだ] S: I. am. Kind. Great example of Segasaki's use of the "ore" pronoun here to quite literally emphasise how great he is. "優しい (kind)" in Japanese carries the connotation of being thoughtful, anticipating the other person's needs and wants and then meeting them etc. It's a characteristic that people often say they look for in their potential partners.

[S: そもそも、なんだ先の言いぐさは 好きじゃないだの　出ていきたいだの お前　俺のプロポーズを受けといてよくそんなことが言えんな S: 養ってやる*っつってんだ　プロポーズ以外になに] S: In the first place, what was with those things you said earlier? That you don't like me, that you want to leave... You... that was rich, saying all that after accepting my proposal. S: I was saying I'd provide and care* for you. If that's not a proposal than what is? ["養ってやる" is a pretty possessive way to say I'll provide for you - it's the same word used when referring to parent providing for a child, or an owner providing for a small animal. It's not rude per se, but it does imply a power imbalance. Segasaki actually sort of has a point here because... this is not something you say to someone else unless you're in a relationship ^^;]

S: ていうかお前、俺のこと嫌いなんだ S: どうなの S: Actually about that... so you hate me huh? S: Which is it?

S: ふーん。あ、そ S: Ohh..? I see. ふーん (Ohh..?) - Segasaki says this a lot, especially in this episode. This is another one of those sounds that isn't a word but carries a lot of meaning. It has a dismissive sort of tone to it, like you've already assumed something or when you're pretty nonchalant/not impressed about whatever the other person has said and are just playing along with them by giving them some attention (so again, if you use it wrongly, it can piss people off). Segasaki uses it whenever Yoh goes mute or shy, as a way to tease Yoh - though Yoh seems to think Segasaki is dismissing/not interested in his answer. あ、そ (A, so) - again, Segasaki says this a lot - can be interpreted as "oh really?/I see/is that so?" - Combined with the above, you can see why Yoh often thinks Segasaki isn't interested in his answer, and even when he does recognise it as teasing, he gets too flustered to do anything about it.

This seems to have gotten longer, if you reached the end - congratulations! I hope this makes it a little clearer why it's so obvious to us as the viewer that Segasaki is really quite patient with Yoh, and is waiting for him to come to terms with his feelings, but at the same time so confusing for Yoh, because of the way many of these interactions can be read both ways. In Ep 3, we'll really be able to get into their dynamics because they've got so much more interaction together.

#my personal weatherman #taikan yohou #体感予報 #MPW subtitle corrections #mytranslations #finally got it out #doing a breakdown of the argument was very fun #this is like the most indulgent t/n ever #i am indulging myself the same way segasaki indulges yoh #thanks to everyone for reading my indulgent notes #please geek out with me more #these two are so perfect for each other #sorry I wanted to get Ep 3 and the analysis out before Ep 4 but it's not happening

[dolokhoded]

my one season 4 complaint is Where The Fuck Was Aneesa

#never have i ever #i really wish her and fabiola had stayed together them not working out didn't rlly serve any purpose to the plot for the new season #fabiola's new relationship was barely rlaborated upon. as expected. #and aneesa was basically written out she was barely even part of the group #plus that scene of them at the staircase talking about fab's robotics team. they still have so much chemistry and they were literally just #talking about robotics #i understand she's not a major character and she can't have a separate plotline to herself but she wasn't even involved in anyone else's #her and fabiola were cute together and she would've at least been part of the plot if they were still dating #allison was barely a character what was the point of writing some random new partner for fabiola when she already had a perfectly good #love interest #it just doesn't make sense to me. whi decided it would be a good idea for them to break up #was it just an opportunity to shove in a nonbinary character who had no personality and was just there as someone's s/o and call it #representation #cause there are Many better ways to have nonbinary rep than this #but ofc mindy kaling wouldn't give a shit about this. #n e ways for this support my nonbinary aneesa hc . it's real. #fabiola torres #aneesa qureshi #OR AT THE VERY LEAST SHE SHOULD'VE GOTTEN WITH PAXTON. SHE HAD THAT NICE HOT JOCK LINE AT THE END OF SEASON 3 #im fabneesa 4 life but i would honestly be haply with her dating paxton. they're both cool and they'd be fun together. and she deserves a #nice hot jock boyfriend.

[i-really-like-phrogs]

Re-design of my un-named Beetlejuice OC from back when I was thirteen

Original Reference under the cut:

#my art #beetlejuice #toonjuice #beetlejuice cartoon #beetlejuice fanart #beetlejuice movie #procreate #I don’t really make OC’s for fanwork anymore… but the ones I had when I was younger almost never got named 🥲 #When I first made her I really really liked her- and her story was very self indulgent #Looking at it now is almost way too weird for me… (and honestly a little unintentionally homophobic???) #Basically she was one of the girls from Dante’s inferno… except she got kicked out because she only had attraction to girls #(This was BEFORE I suspected that I was a lesbian— mind you.) #Yeah but anyway she went to the Deetz/Maitland house looking for a place to stay but drove everybody crazy #She was super flamboyant- loved everything pink n fluffy- and was well meaning but did more harm than good trying to do nice things for the #She had this one sided crush on Delia??? Like musical Beej and Adam except less perverted and more flirty/sappy? I was an odd kid- okay? 🥲 #Anyway… the old design didn’t really do much to show off her personality… so I ended up upheaving the whole thing #So I upheaved the whole thing. #It was okay for what I knew at the time- but I know what I was trying to say then and now I have the knowledge to say it better #Also— the reason I gave her horns here is so silly. #When I was younger I was in a Christian school where I wasn’t allowed to draw witches-ghosts-demons-etc. #So even though I based her on the Dante girls… I refused to give her horns because I thought that was ‘too sinful’ #I even remember having so much guilt while looking for references of the Dante workers #I couldn’t even look for more than five seconds! #Anyways… she really pushed the boundaries for me at the time and it’s fun to see how I’ve changed and grown since then.

[padfootastic]

exam szn is coming up which obviously means ore distractions, as everyone knows. so what better than to come back to tumblr lol so many tag games etc piling up that i wanna dooooooo

so. let’s have a lil snippet time!

thanks for the tag @in-flvx 💜 this one’s from a wip that was supposed to have been finished & posted for jilypad week but,,,,here we are,,,,,

“Sirius!” Lily exclaims. “We were looking for you.”

“Oh?” He presses a quick kiss to her cheek before bending down to pick Harry up, who immediately cuddles into his arms with a tired sigh. Poor baby, must’ve been exhausted by all the excitement at the beach.

“Yeah, regarding tonight—“ Sirius gulped quietly at the way she said that “—Your room is a bit…messy, I’m sorry. We were reorganising and well, y’know how it goes…”

She shrugs apologetically but all Sirius can think about is how she called it ‘his room’. Not the guest room, not the spare, but his room. Sirius’. He once again pushes past the mushy feelings that rise in him at that little distinction.

“Oh, it’s—it’s fine, I can just take the couch, no problem.” Even if his feet tend to hang off the end, and the edges are a bit lumpy, it’s fine. He resolutely doesn’t think about his comfortable Alaskan King at home.

“Of course you can’t!” Lily scowls at him. “We’re not gonna put you in a couch in your own house, Sirius.”

There it was again, the reference to him belonging here. It was a bit presumptuous, slightly possessive but Sirius was a dog at heart, he was never going to turn down ownership.

“Er—the nursery, then?” he asks, confused.

“What, crammed up in Harry’s crib beside him?” she says with a scoff, “Don’t be silly.”

Sirius blinks. “Where am I sleeping then?”

“With us, of course.” He jumps at the voice booming from behind him, clutching Harry tighter to his chest, whirling around to find James munching on a carrot.

“Where did you come from?” Sirius mutters under his breath before straightening up and saying, louder, “And what do you mean with you?”

“Well, like Lily said,” and here he sends a meaningful, entirely undecipherable, look towards his wife who…blushes? “Your room’s temporarily indisposed, the couch isn’t even an option—don’t give me that look, you barely fit on the thing—and the floor is gonna mess up your back worse than it is.”

“Oi!”

“So, our room it is.”

Right. Of course. Because that’s the obvious conclusions. How could he say no?

(Again, he can’t so he doesn’t)

It’s twenty minutes later, after Harry’s been put to bed, thoroughly kissed by his parents and godfather, after James is done with his nighttime turmeric milk and Lily’s put her hair up into braids and Sirius has taken out all his rings and chains and bracelets—that’s when he’s stumped by yet another problem.

How, exactly, are they going to sleep in one bed?

“We’re just going to expand it a little, Pads, don’t worry,” James says, supremely unconcerned.

He goggles at that, staring at the casual wand work. A part of him wonders why this is the extent of magic they’re using to solve this problem—James can conjure a bed Silenced, with his eyes closed—but promptly decides to not dwell on that for everyone’s sake.

#sirius black #james potter #lily evans #jilypad #so. it’s like this #lily is scheming off into the sunset #and blushing when j catches her doing it #bc obv they’ve not talked about it yet #and sirius is just. horribly confused and baffled but also pleased #he’s in love w both of them so he’s not gonna turn down any of it #but he also doesn’t know where he stands rn #u guys i actually rly love this fic #there’s about. 7.5k words of it #and it doesn’t feel like anywhere near ending #and i also have smutty outtakes planned lol #but i just!! need to sit down!! and write! #so many fics i’ve gotta finish 😭 #anyway #hope u enjoy! #oh fun fact: james munching on a carrot is me heavy projecting bc….he n i r the same person hehe #pen’s writing

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

gojo always seems to be off in a world of his own.

a little detached, you think. awkwardly long limbs constantly on the move, eyes stuck in a direction no one else can follow, a trajectory you don’t think even he knows. one blink and he's gone, just like that. too far ahead, too far above, even on the occasions he slows down and lets you catch up.

flimsy, maybe. like he’ll get carried away by the breeze when spring rolls around. like he’d turn into seafoam if you reached out and touched him.

satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky. 

high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. but there's a softness to him when he's alone, you’ve come to learn; something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be.

no one except for you, anyhow.

(you wonder if your presence is really that inconsequential to him.)

the beach is entirely empty, save for you and gojo. and summer’s ending, burning into little cinders, sputtering out before your very eyes.

tokyo is just beginning to dip its toes into autumn, the frost and chill, the hiss of the biting wind. the rusting of leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. smelling of rotten apples and cinnamon, old books and burning wood.

it’s dark out. painted a thick gray, the sky is blanketed by heavy clouds, the entire world hidden behind that coating of wool. not a single sliver of starlight slips through, but there's a comfort to it, that feeling of being cocooned — safe and warm. a feeling cruelly stripped away by the nipping of the wind at your bare skin, but you digress.

everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air; scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which. 

and a sense of foreboding sinks into your veins.

(you look out at the jagged rocks piercing the surface of the sea, and dully wonder how they’d feel piercing your skin.)

something shivers, to your right. a flicker of movement, a barely audible chatter of teeth. and then, a white puff of vapour.

”man, it’s cold.”

gojo looks displeased. 

only vaguely, a little crease between his eyebrows as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his puffy baseball jacket. moving his feet a little, to warm up, snowy tufts of white hair tousled by the ocean breeze. his shoes are muddied by the wet sand, but he doesn't seem to mind.  

a soft scoff leaves your lips, mostly harmless. maybe just a little smug. ”told you,” you click your tongue. 

gojo whines. his sunglasses are starting to fog up, you notice. ”it’s still summer!” he pouts. ”i thought the sea would be nice and breezy!”

an unimpressed look smooths over your features. gracing him with a raise of your brow, you don’t fully manage to bite back the soft smile that follows. don’t even really attempt to.

it’s been a long day. evidently not long enough for gojo, seeing as he dragged you down here — even though he knew it meant missing the train you were supposed to board after successfully finishing your mission. he just had to get a closer look at the sea. just for a moment or two. 

and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one. 

(what made you agree was simply the thought of spending some more time with him. not like you could ever tell him that, though.)

so there you stand. two juveniles, shivering and shifting from foot to foot, on the brink of nightfall, the edge of summertime. watching the sea stretch out into infinity, across the gap between this world and the next. a murky blue. easy on the eyes.

the noise of the sea fills your ears; waves crashing into sand, the whistling of the wind, seagulls crying out in the distance. and faraway, the chatter of a rattling train. a cacophony of sounds, buzzing and crackling, melting together. scattered across the beach are countless tiny white seashells, and the occasional green glimmer of drift glass — mermaids’ tears, shed for lost sailors, or so you’ve heard.

you wonder if the mermaids ever shed tears for lost sorcerers. probably not.

a shiver runs through your body, down to your cold hands, the tips of your fingers. reddish and itching for warmth. you tuck them into your pockets with a breathless exhale, still shaking a little. 

in truth, you and gojo aren’t very close. you’d like to call him a friend, but it's kind of hard; when he's so enamored with suguru, so animated around shoko. with you, he always seems kind of —

stiff? 

or maybe more like bored.

he doesn't laugh as loudly, doesn’t act as cocky. doesn't flaunt his knowledge on sorcery, and isn't as clingy as he is with the other two.

(you've never liked people touching you. it's not hard for others to discern, with how you flinch away when they get close.

still, you can't help but feel a little jealous when you see him tugging suguru and shoko around.)

deep within your chest, like a stunted seaweed, sprouts a tiny pang of disappointment. it’d be nice if you could grow closer, you think. just a little would be fine. 

”i like the sea.”

you turn your head.

gojo looks a little lost in thought. gaze trained on that expanding ocean before you, those splotches of blue and gray, the waves that bruise the edge of the sand. forlorn, maybe.

a hum buzzes in your dry throat. ”do you?”

”mm.” little white breaths slip from his lips. you wonder if they’d taste as salty as the air. ”’ts nice.”

a silence stretches out before you. delicate, like a sheet of glass. gojo picks at a piece of lint on his sleeve, and you shift from foot to foot. then he closes his eyes — a flutter of his dewy eyelashes.

”kinda makes you feel like everything’s about to end, huh?”

you look at him, but don’t see anything. a single glimpse of his closed eyes is all you gain from the glance you cast his way, but it’s not enough. not enough blue to fall into, no expression to savour. he looks the same as always.

but you’ve never heard his voice sound like this before.

”… end?”

and with that, they flicker open. there it is, you think. that vibrant blue. only to be obscured once more, when he turns to you fully, a smile playing at his glossy lips. ”don’t think so?”

a second passes. you look forward.

what you see is as follows: waves upon waves upon waves. the same blue and gray, as far as the eye can see. a sea big enough to drown each and every one of your worries. 

something comes over you. a sensation of loneliness, something close to longing. a feeling of being rather lost. searching for something. your heart feels heavy, an anchor sunk to the bottom of your gut. little fish nipping at your ribcage.

your eyes trail over those jagged rocks, again. the mermaids’ tears, that all-consuming sea, right in front of you. like it could open its maw and devour the world.

you think of the lost sailors.

(one jump and it’s all over.)

a breath. salty on your tongue. ”… i guess i get it,” you whisper. a soft murmur, mingling with the mist. 

silence.

out of the corner of your eye, you see gojo shift. one moment he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring at the sea. in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue. and you think he looks a little mesmerized, like he’s seeing something not even he can fully comprehend.

(maybe he just hasn’t had many chances to go to the beach before. something to do with being a clan kid, maybe?)

but then he clears his throat, hands moving to brush some sand off his puffy jacket and jeans. turning on his heel, hair ruffled by the breeze. he tries to sound chipper, but there’s something else there. you don’t know what it is, but…

”anyway,” he chirps. ”let’s go. we can still make it to the next train if we hurry.”

you look at him. his retreating figure, a head of white hair, surrounded by mist. a little like an apparition. then you turn towards the sea.

”… nah, that’s fine.”

a pause.

gojo stills, just about to take the first step forward. but you stay rooted in place; unmoving, staring at the blue before you, a deep longing reflected in your eyes. 

”let’s stay a little longer,” you hum, unsure of where the words came from. but you know you aren’t ready for the moment to end, just yet. that you aren’t quite ready for summer to pass.

…

all he does is stare, for a second or two. attempting to find some humour in your voice, you assume, any signs that you might just be joking. but he doesn’t find it. uncharacterstically silent, gojo stays frozen in place. 

then he puffs out a breath — amused. 

”you wanna freeze to death?” he grins, and you can hear it in his voice. you turn to face him, almost smiling. a little cheeky.

”you’ll warm me up, no?”

the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in. meant to sound a little snarky, you think, something akin to a chuckle — but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request. 

the tips of your ears feel a little warm, suddenly.

a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of gojo’s face, and his grin falters. you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if they widen or not, but his lips part, and you note that they look soft. 

and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy, from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you.

he throws an arm over your shoulder. a heavy weight against you, grounding, causing you to stumble. friendly, tugging you close. into his orbit.

(no infinity, you note. you can feel his body heat seeping through the fabric.)

it's nice. he's tall, and he's warm. cozy, protecting you from the bitter cold, like your own personal furnace. no wonder suguru never catches any colds, with someone like this draped over him all the time.

gojo speaks. there’s a sweetness to his voice, a mellow kind of contentment; bubbling up like seafoam, spilling from his glossy lips. you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

”well, duh.”

when your gaze falls on him, he's already looking at you. leaning closer, sunglasses slipping a little further down the bridge of his nose — enough to expose the blue of his eyes, the tiny splotches of white scattered across his aquamarine iris. like a cracked marble. or a summer sea.

he’s speaking again, and you almost don't hear it. distracted by those cracked marbles, the strawberry red of his cheeks, the warmth shared between you. the pitter patter of your heartbeat, like waves crashing against the sand. mesmerized. not daring to look away.

almost like you’d cease to exist, were he to close his eyes. like your existence hinges entirely on the blue of those irises.

(and maybe it does.)

he nods towards the sea, and grins. a mischievous glint in his eyes. ”wanna take a dip?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. it makes you laugh, either way.

”do you want to freeze to death?” you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. subtly angling your body closer to his, hoping he won’t notice.

gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now? 

”hehe. i just think it'd be fun!” he chirps, still draped over you like an overgrown cat, and you almost find yourself saying yes. just to keep the summer from ending, keep him from being swept away by the breeze.

but summer is ending. slipping away, second by second, like two juveniles drowned by an ocean wave. never to be found. and in comes autumn, the smell of rotting apples, the crunch of sand beneath your feet; an arm over your shoulder, an intake of breath. the taste of nice, crispy air on your tongue. 

a chuckle flows from your lips. all you see before you is blue, a murky shade, a vibrant hue. you think you could drown in it. you’re not sure you’d mind.

”maybe next time,” you whisper.

gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, until they bloom — with a kind of bubbly excitement. unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe.

you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate. 

satoru gojo. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. a seaborne boy with his very own orbit, born to carry the weight of the world, spinning so close that you can almost delude yourself into thinking he feels the same. 

almost.

(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.)

#melancholic fluff my beloved <33 #listened to replicant by yorushika on repeat while writing this ... its so unbelievably gojo coded #i dont write much for hs gojo but i think hes v fun to write when it comes to soft quiet moments like this !! #to me hes kinda like the class clown who mellows out a lot when hes with one single non-judgemental person ... hes a cutie :< #completely obsessed w the idea of reader being like Well . he probably doesnt like me very much #meanwhile gojo is literally standing there teeth gritted like ”dont kiss them dont kiss them dont kiss them” #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo angst

[milkweedman]

Brought a spindle to the spinning competition (didn't know it was today so I didn't bring my wheel as it's not a travel wheel) and got renamed Drop Spindle Guy. RIP

#but i won one of the competitions ! with the help of a friends mom as it was a two person one #one person treadles the other one drafts and walks backwards and whoever reaches the finish line first wins #someone kindly let me use their wheel n i was drafting #and we won by quite a lot :3 #good prizes too #this was just so fucking fun :D #flock and fiber festival

[astrobei]

byler 22 for the touch prompts??

22 for touch prompts: falling asleep on the other's shoulder (+ bonus mini soundtrack that i listened to on repeat while writing this)

“Remind me again,” Mike says, as Will climbs into the passenger side of the car, “why we have to go to this thing today?”

Will gives him a look. Or his best attempt at a look anyway. He’s ninety percent sure they fall too flat to ever be effective, or Mike would have stopped saying stupid shit years ago. “This thing?” He struggles with the seatbelt for a moment before it finally clicks into place. “You mean your sister’s wedding? To my brother?”

Mike pulls a face. “If you want to get into the semantics,” he mumbles, adjusting the rearview mirror, and Will laughs.

“You’re ridiculous. It’s their wedding, Mike.”

“Rude to get married on a Saturday night,” Mike says, as if every wedding in the history of the world ever hasn’t taken place on a Saturday night. “Maybe some of us had things to do.”

“Yeah? What did you have going on?” Will asks, smoothing down the lapel of his suit. This jacket is a lint magnet like nothing he’s ever seen before, and he plucks a little piece of it away. “Hot date?”

Mike wiggles his eyebrows, and Will realizes immediately that this was the wrong thing to say. “Yeah,” Mike chirps, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You.”

Despite himself, Will feels his cheeks turn red. It’s stupid, because he quite literally handed Mike the opportunity to say this on a silver platter, and it’s more dumb than any sort of flirtatious, except the unfortunate truth of dating Mike Wheeler is that he doesn’t even have to try and actually flirt to get Will blushing like a teenage girl. “I had that coming,” he admits, and Mike grins even harder than before. “And we didn’t have a date tonight.”

“We did! We were going to–”

“We can order pizza and watch TV when we get back, Mike,” Will chides, and, when Mike’s lower lip turns downward in something reminiscent of a pout, “this is Nancy’s wedding.”

“I was never Nancy’s favorite sibling,” Mike says noncommittally, releasing the parking brake, “she won’t even notice if I’m not there,” which one, is not true because Mike makes up about a third of Nancy’s bridal party so she will most definitely notice if he goes AWOL. And second, this is also not true because Will knows that Holly is currently in the throes of teenage angst, and Mike is still working on the angst but he’s moved on from the teenager part, at least, which is definitely earning him some points in Nancy’s book. So at worst, he’s tied with Holly. At least for the next couple of years.

And Will knows he’s not being serious anyway. For all of the fuss he’s kicking up, he knows Mike is happy for them. Will checks the backseat to make sure he put the presents in the car earlier that afternoon, and says, laughing, “Cold feet? It’s not even your wedding, Mike.”

“I know,” Mike moans, falling forward until his forehead hits the top of the steering wheel. “And it’s exciting! I’m happy for them! And your brother too, and I know your mom and Hop are so pumped, and– it’s just that I’m not so pumped about spending the evening with my family.”

Will suddenly feels very, very stupid. Jesus, he hadn’t even thought about that– about Mike’s parents being there, and his nana, the one that his mom had totally guilted Nancy into inviting because she might not live long enough to see Mike and Holly get married, Nancy, just let her have this. Which was kind of a depressing enough thought on its own, Will thinks, even without the entire conversation that had followed, the one he’d overheard Mike have on the phone in the living room, loud and frustrated before he’d slammed the phone down on the receiver hard enough for Will to hear it from their bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes out, then rests a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Don’t listen to them, okay, Mike? Just– hang out with us instead. I know Dustin’s been dying to break out his new dance moves.”

Mike cracks a tentative smile, then turns his face slightly so that one side of it is illuminated by the glow of the street lamps outside. “I’m scared he’s going to get driven away in a stretcher,” Mike admits, and Will grins. 

“Yeah, probably. It’ll be a good distraction, at least. I’ll tell him to take one for the team.”

Mike nods once, but he doesn’t look convinced. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Will hesitates, then drops his hand to Mike’s and slots their fingers together. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Look at me.”

Mike looks up the rest of the way. He looks incredible tonight, which is something Will’s been thinking ever since they’d started getting ready an hour ago, and at least half of the reason it took him so long was because he’d been totally distracted the whole time. Maybe Will is just biased, which is a little true, sure, but Mike should definitely wear suits more– and he’s officially taking it upon himself to make sure that Mike wears suits more– because suddenly he’s tempted to take Mike up on his offer of becoming a runaway best man and going back inside and collapsing on the couch and kissing him stupid into the early hours of the morning.

“What?” Mike is saying, eyebrows twisting a little self-consciously. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“You just look really nice,” Will says simply, and then, because that comes nowhere close to how good Mike looks in a tie, “no, actually, you look– wow.”

Mike’s lips twitch, but he looks a little pleased. “Wow? Really?”

“You’ve rendered me speechless,” Will nods rapidly, and Mike’s shy smile breaks into something more genuine. “You– look at you, I mean– I can’t even– wow.”

“Will,” Mike says, drawing out the single syllable until it feels big enough to fill up the whole car. “Okay, I look nice! You can stop playing it up now.” 

His cheeks are turning red, slowly, visible even in the dim lighting of the street lamps through the windows, because it’s early fall and it’s started to get dark ridiculously early in the day. It feels like a victory, getting Mike flustered, even after a year of dating. Will smiles to himself. 

“I’m not,” Will says, then leans in across the console. “Come here. I’ll prove it.”

“You’ll–” Mike gets out, eyes going wide in surprise, “–has anyone ever told you that you’re–”

Whatever it was that people may or may not have told Will is apparently a mystery that will die with the universe, because Will never finds out. He kisses Mike with one hand still holding his, threads a hand through his hair and cups his jaw. Soft. Slow. Unhurried, even though they should have left ten minutes ago and they’re going to be cutting it real close– Will can’t be bothered to rush.

Mike hums low in the back of his throat, pleased, and shifts closer. He’s pushing himself up over the console, a hand ghosting the side of Will’s neck, when–

Beeeeep.

“What–” Will jerks backwards, startled, and Mike immediately lets go of his hand. “Did you just–”

Mike rubs his elbow and moves further away from the wheel. “I got a little distracted,” he laughs, but the tension has ebbed from his shoulders a little and his eyes are creasing up at the corners, so Will considers this a mission success, thank you. “We should probably go?”

“Good idea,” Will says, then reaches over to smooth out a stray tuft of Mike’s hair that was– he thinks, a little proud of himself– definitely not out of place before. “And hey,” he adds, before Mike can take the car out of park. “Seriously. Ignore your parents. It’s not their wedding, okay, it’s Nancy’s. And Jonathan’s. And they both want us there. Together.”

Mike’s lips press together into a thin, determined line. “You’re right,” he nods, “I know, it’s just–”

“I know,” Will echoes, and Mike shoots him a grateful smile. “Now let’s go, or we really will miss the ceremony.”

—-

They don’t miss the ceremony, which is good, because having both the best man and the– whatever Mike was– would probably not be a good look for anyone involved.

“I can’t believe you cried,” Dustin says, after the toasts are done and the speeches are given and everyone’s been supplied with enough champagne to go a little loose and maybe a little tear-happy.

Mike scowls across the table at him. “I didn’t cry,” he insists, which is kind of pointless because Will had been watching him the whole time he’d been standing up there, shuffling his feet awkwardly in place at his designated spot in between Holly and Robin Buckley, and he’d definitely cried. Just a little, but he had.

“You did,” El chimes in primly, plucking at her shrimp cocktail. “I saw.”

“Thanks, El,” Mike mutters, sinking back in his chair a little and crossing his arms. “It’s– the vows were very emotional, okay, you’d have to be made of total stone to not tear up!”

“I didn’t cry,” Lucas announces, which is a fucking lie, by the way. Will saw him dabbing at his eyes in the bathroom on the way here.

“I think it’s sweet,” he says, instead of throwing Lucas to the dogs like he maybe should have. He flashes Mike a grin, leans over in his chair to bridge the space between them and squeezes his hand, once. “They were very sappy vows, to be fair.”

Mike blinks up at him from where he’s slumped down to somewhere around shoulder height. “You didn’t cry.”

“Oh, I did,” Will assures him. “I just cried in the back with Jonathan while he was getting ready.”

“Really?” Mike perks right up. “You did?”

“Yes,” Will laughs, “and I can’t believe you’re happy about it,” and then Mike grins so wide that Will can’t help but lean in the rest of the way and press a quick kiss to Mike’s cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Lucas says, and he’s maybe one strike away from Will speaking up about the bathroom incident after all.

“Maybe so,” Mike relents, looking properly cheered up now. “What about it?”

Mike’s grip on Will’s hand never falters. Will feels himself turn warmer with every slow pass of Mike’s thumb over his knuckles, even with their hands tucked under the tablecloth and out of view. And it isn’t from the champagne. He’s had just the one glass with dinner, which is nothing, so it must be something else that’s making him feel like this. Something–

“You okay?” Mike murmurs as his thumb pauses, briefly, on the back of Will’s hand. “You got kind of quiet out of nowhere,” and yeah, there it is.

“I meant it,” Will says, lowering his voice so their friends can’t hear them from across the table. “What I said in the car, I mean. You look beautiful.”

It’s a little amusing just how fast Mike can turn such a violent shade of red. “You can’t just say that,” he splutters. “Give a guy some warning, Jesus, Will–”

“Mm, no,” Will decides smugly, watching the red creep down the collar of Mike’s carefully starched dress shirt. Then, because the soft lighting of the venue and the way Mike’s hair has started to fall free around his face is doing something funny to his chest and stomach, Will nods to the dance floor and says, “You wanna?”

Mike hesitates, looking over his shoulder. “Dance?”

Will shrugs, then looks over to where Jonathan and Nancy are trying– and failing, quite hilariously and miserably– at a dance of their own. “I mean, it’s a wedding, and people dance at weddings. Not that either of us are good at it, but it might be fun to try?”

Mike chews nervously at his lower lip and nudges Will’s foot with his own. “I don’t know,” he admits. “My mom was eyeing me earlier and I was totally avoiding her by hiding out over here but I feel like the dance floor is fair game for a–” he waves his hands around, “pseudo-confrontation. Nancy’s only three years older than you, blah, blah. When are you going to settle down, blah, blah. Even though I’m here with my boyfriend, which apparently doesn’t count for shit, and–” Mike sighs dejectedly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring the mood down, it’s just– I was having such a good day, too.”

Will squeezes Mike’s leg, just above the knee. “You were having a good day? Really? Even though your hot date got canceled?”

“Well,” Mike rolls his eyes. “My sister got married, and now my hot date is all dressed up and sweet-talking me, so I think this is even better than pizza on the couch.” He pauses, contemplating. “Actually, scratch that. It’s not. But it’s a close second,” Mike adds, then grins and picks Will’s hand up again. “Dance– later, maybe? I’m really enjoying this for right now.”

“Of course. Anything you want,” Will smiles, as the music in the background softens into something more mellow. He pulls his chair up so that it’s flush with Mike’s, their thighs pressed up together in one line, and passes Mike a flute of champagne from the table. “You might want to drink this, though, because your mom looks like she might be heading over here any second.”

“Thanks,” Mike groans, then knocks the whole thing back in one go.

—-

Will knows that a big fancy flashy wedding isn’t really Jonathan’s style, and he didn’t think it was Nancy’s either. Which is why he was surprised to get an invite to an event at all, because he’d honestly sort of thought they’d make a courthouse affair of it and then have everyone over for dinner or something. They’d been engaged for, like, three years, because it was career stuff and then more career stuff and then a couple months of long distance while Jonathan was doing some photojournalism thing in London, and Will had figured at some point that they’d get so tired of being engaged that they’d show up the next day with papers from City Hall and that would be that.

Apparently, though, in a not-so-surprising turn of events, Nancy Wheeler takes to event planning like a moth to flame, and Jonathan was immediately dragged along for the ride. He didn’t seem too upset about it, though, when Will had asked. “It’s Nancy,” he shrugged, like that explained everything. And maybe it did, because not too long after that, Will started dating Mike and everything immediately clicked.

Which is maybe the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to him. For anyone else, Will would not even entertain the thought of fussing over seating arrangements, and he’s certain he only knows, like, five types of flowers– if pink and red roses count as two different types. It’s Nancy, Jonathan had said, and Will hadn’t gotten it then but he does now.

Mike’s hand twitches on Will’s bicep, fingers clutching once at the fabric of his shirt. Will’s suit jacket lies abandoned on the chair behind them. Mike had leaned over maybe half an hour ago to rest his head on Will’s shoulder, as it got later in the night and guests started slowly trickling out of the room. And then, maybe fifteen or so minutes ago, his breathing had evened out, fingers slackening in their grip against his arm, and Will doesn’t know how the hell Mike can fall asleep in a room that’s filled with so much noise, but he can’t help but find it endearing– wholly, completely, embarrassingly endearing.

And he gets it, he does. It’s Mike, he thinks, chest flooding with warmth in a strange, hollowed-out way, like there’s nothing left inside him except this feeling. It’s Mike. It’s Mike. It’s–

“Hey, hon,” comes a voice behind him, and Will startles, just a little, then immediately relaxes.

“Oh, hey mom,” he whispers, and Mike’s hand twitches lightly against his arm again. Joyce gives him an amused look, glancing down at Mike, then back at Will.

“Did he fall asleep?” she asks, pulling up a chair next to them. “I’ll be quiet, don’t worry.”

Will feels himself smile before he actually realizes he’s doing it. “Yeah,” he snorts softly, “but I have no idea how.”

As if roused by some sixth sense, like he knew they were talking about him, Mike stirs, lifting his head off of Will’s shoulder and blinking blearily. “What–”

“Shh,” Will says, and Joyce bites back a smile. “Go back to sleep.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Mike says, and then yawns loud and conspicuously. “Shit– I’ve just been so tired this week, sorry, Will–”

“Don’t be,” he says immediately, even though his shoulder and arm are starting to fall asleep, just a little. Will drops a kiss to the top of Mike’s head, and feels him start to smile into his shoulder before stiffening, a little self-consciously, and glancing up at Joyce.

“Um–”

“Oh,” his mom waves a hand, “don’t mind me. You two are so sweet. You remind me of Nancy and Jonathan after they started dating. Jonathan would turn so red, but maybe not as red as you’re turning right now, Will–”

“Mom!”

“Red?” Mike perks up, and then, “Oh you are turning red!”

“Shut up,” Will mumbles, but he’s sure it’s not convincing in the slightest. “Did you come over here just to embarrass me?”

Joyce puts two hands up in the air like hey, don’t look at me. “I was just going to let you know that Hop and I are taking off,” she says, eyes sparkling. “He has the early shift tomorrow, but Mike, now that I’ve caught you– your speech was wonderful. Really. Jim was tearing up and he told me to never let you find out but I figured you’d want to know.”

Mike blinks. He still looks a little out of it, still a little red from sleep or the champagne from earlier, but he smiles, sudden and pleased. “Really?”

“Don’t tell him I told you,” Joyce grins conspiratorially. “But yes. It was very sweet.”

“Thanks Mrs. Byers,” Mike says, the words stretching into another yawn, quieter this time. He groans lightly, then pushes himself off of Will’s shoulder and sits back up.

Will peers over at him. “Are you tired? You want to head back?”

Mike rubs at his eyes with both hands, blinks a few times in rapid succession, then shakes his head like he’s trying to shake the sleep out of his body, like it’s a physical thing. “No,” he smiles, and it’s a little bit tired, but he looks happy. “No, not yet.”

“Okay,” Will whispers, and he’s probably grinning like an idiot, but he can’t help it. That’s the common denominator here, between every interaction he ever has with Mike– that he’s so happy that he just can’t help it. “You still want to get pizza on the way back?”

“God, yes please,” Mike groans in relief. “Um. No offense, but wedding food is just– like what the hell, man, I’m starving. That was nothing.”

“Pizza it is,” Will agreed easily, mentally making a pros and cons list of getting a large and having leftovers or saving money and going for a medium. “Pepperoni?”

“Anything goes,” Mike is saying, and then Joyce clears her throat.

“Well,” she says, snapping her purse shut and smiling. “Hop and I are heading out but– oh, drive safe you two. Eat a slice for me, actually, I’ve been craving pizza all week.”

“Bye, mom,” Will smiles, craning his neck upwards as she plants a kiss on top of his head.

“You too,” she says to Mike, who barely has time to blink in surprise before his mom is dropping a kiss on his forehead. She rests a hand on his shoulder briefly as she smiles and says, “I’d welcome you to the family, Mike, but you’ve been a part of it for years already.”

“I– bye, Mrs. Byers,” Mike says faintly, eyes wide, as Joyce waves goodbye. He turns back to Will. “Part of the family? Really?”

“It’s what you get for dating your best friend,” Will murmurs, glancing out over the rapidly emptying room before tugging on Mike’s arm until he falls into him with a small, startled noise. “You get smothered by my mom.”

“I wouldn’t call it smothering,” Mike laughs, eyes darting down to Will’s mouth. He swallows, and says, softly, “Plus, I like your family. No complaints from me.”

Will hums, soft. “I’m sorry about– you know. How did that go?”

“Nancy said she survived mom and dad with minimal damage,” Mike laughs drily. “And nana too. And I managed to avoid them long enough that they didn’t have a chance to ambush me, so.”

“Good,” Will says, kissing Mike softly on the corner of his mouth, then again, right over the curve of his cupid’s bow. He’s a little warm, a little loose and pliant from sleep, and he moves easily, tucking a finger into the loop of Will’s tie and pulling him in closer. Their knees bump against each other under the tablecloth, chair legs scraping gently across the polished floor as Will leans forward. “I’m glad,” Will says into the kiss, and Mike smiles.

“Me too,” Mike whispers, tucking his hands into Will’s hair and pulling away, just barely. “Because now they’re gone and all of our annoying cursory invite relatives are gone and it’s just you and me– and Nancy, and Jonathan, and El and Lucas and– whatever. I think I owe you a dance.”

There’s something slow and melodic playing as Nancy and Jonathan make the last of their rounds, most of the tables empty and the dance floor cleared out. Will grins, kisses Mike one more time for good measure, then stands up. “Okay,” he agrees, “but I’m leading.”

“I don’t think it makes a difference, because neither of us can–”

“I’m leading,” Will says again, and Mike chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yeah, sure. Lead the way, Will.”

#oh this got away from me #this really really got away from me #parker the actual prompt part is so minor i'm so sorry i had a vision for this and then it got away from me so bad #idk why i thought jancy wedding but the thought popped into my head and i just went with it #something so personal to me is jancy deciding to have a courthouse wedding but then nancy gets into planning like music and food and stuff #nothing fancy like she's not a bridezilla by any means #but they end up having a small ceremony n reception with just their family n close friends #like the extended party + jopper #and on nancy's side her parents wheedle her into inviting a few other relatives like aunts n cousins but it's still iike 25-30 people max #anyways these tags got so long and weren't even byler #parker i hope u like this !!! #probably is not even what u had in mind but . Yeah #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #fic #fun sized fics

[swordheld]

i have been scrolling through ur page and noticed that u tend to put long, thoughtful tags underneath nearly every post u reblog & i just thought that was very endearing since the general trend is short and concise. im not sure why i felt the need to write u and let u know, but i just felt very compelled to. pls never stop being u.

this is so very sweet of you!! it's an old habit that i have held onto for the longest time, mostly due to the fact of tags being excellent for organization (my beloved) but also as a kind of extra space for whatever else you'd like to include without actually including it in the post when others share it for themselves! it's that perfect mixture of private n public.

for this blog specifically it's something that i enjoy since it's really an exercise or activity in enjoyment / enrichment? i like to think about why i was so inclined to reblog it, to pin it up to this lil space on the interwebs that's all my own. whether that's the colors, or the wording of things, or just what it makes me think about or feel, it's just a really lovely way of considering it all a little deeper!

which is not something that comes easy, or at minimal energy, sometimes! my likes are extensive (i keep attempting to clean them out and bring back my queueing system but we are up to 5k and i am very tired at the moment, lol) for that reason, and it's like a small goal to try to chip away at them over time, to see what treasure i can discover today.

alternatively, it's also a really nice near - time capsule of a thing; to be able to comb through my archive and see what has changed in my outlook, what sticks out to me now versus then, is really fascinating to see how far i've come and what's changed. there's something so lovely about time being instilled so deeply into this lil mini game of online scrapbooking that i adore; so i'm peached n overjoyed that you find some joy in it as well!!

this is all to say: thank you sm and i hope you try it out for yourself if it's something you think you might have fun with! let me know how it goes :)

#q&a. #birdsong. #alt: it's that autistic rizz u know 🤙 i have so many words for everything and tumblr gives me a (semi) reserved space for them ! #esp. since i don't really enjoy the idea of clogging up op activity feeds w/ my miniature observational essays. #tags are that right about of personal n private and i just adore ittttt. it's the reason i've stuck w/ tumblr so long. #i love that they work as such great organizational tools at the same time as being a space for extra things as well! a double hitter of fun #but also this made my entire night; i am continually surprised people take the time to read my silly lil thoughts!!! thank u for ur time <3

[raiiny-bay]

updated my simself specifically to make this

#i've actually been wanting to do a render of me & the boys for a while #but i hate that kelly is taller than me #like. the audacity of him yk #but also i just can't find an accurate hair for myself #i'm just gonna have to learn how to make stuff bc kel & i both need proper curly hair #n e way. i had the urge to try my hand at animation again so. that's probably what i'll be doing in my free time for a bit #kel's birthday & the boys' 10 year anniversary is in april so i gotta plan something fun for that at some point #i realize that's still a couple of months away but #i have no idea what i want to do for either of those yet & i would really like to plan ahead #i'm not much of a plan ahead kind of person #rainyrambles #dl maybe

[samarecharm]

My younger sister is playing the base p5

#chattin #i walked into the livingroom and saw the opening and nearly screamed #she said its bc she saw me play strikers and got curious #im so shocked; she would NOT have been able to play this game like 4 years ago #shes like. not very good on story heavy games. its too boring for her #but shes been watching a streamer play bg3 #and shes invested in the plot. and shes like huh! these ARE fun and engaging! #and she heard me and my mom talk about my moms dwindling attention span w Stories that arent spoonfed to her #so shes ALSO trying new games #i dunno. just very happy :) i get to see ryuji again! #shes been fun to watch. not to be that person but shes autistic (so am i) and very loud and excitable about plot twists n stuff #shes SO into it. also her first comment on ryuji was ‘thats me! i did the same thing w my suspenders :)’ so she liked him immediately LOL #the grind is also something nice for her bc she gets to watch her stream inbetween battles #i will say; the juggling of social stuff and shopping and fighting is ALOT for her. she left the palace to re up on magic #and she forgot to do ANYTHING; no weapons bought; no acessories or protectors; no items; no hangouts #and when i came back from my room (i noticed she had full magic) i asked if she did all that and she was like. shit. #she has to learn the hard way unfortunately #she is insistent on using all her magic; and so when she gets caught w strong enemies WITHOUT it shes like. uhoh. lunge it is. #shell learn