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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

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Headmaster Dumbledore is sure that the ghosts of Hogwarts were hiding something. He’d be the first to admit that he’s nosy when it came to things like these, but he simply doesn’t have the time. Whatever that lingered these halls, he’s sure does not mean Hogwarts any harm. The ghosts would not protect it if it did.

Albus Dumbledore Hummer around a lemon drop as his quill scratched over endless parchment paper.

His wand glowed green for a brief second, an acknowledgement, and settled down into its current owner’s hold.

——

Danny Phantom hadn’t thought the castle he found during the summer months in this universe would be… so full of life. Not when there were ghosts, floating around like the castle were their own home.

Magic.

They were ghosts made of magic.

His core struggled, at first, to survive. Then, it took the magic and thrived.

He floated, invisible amongst the glittering candles beneath the imitated night sky, and watched students file in.

Quite different, from his own entrance.

He had floated into the tower, having felt a hint of resistance that he knew now were the castle wards. The ghosts, what he thought were ghosts before he realized ectoplasmic ghosts existed, stopped dead. Hah.

The shades dancing and whirling and conversing froze as he entered the tower. Life and death, and the beings that walked the line, stopped at the arrival of the One Who is the Line. The boy king wreathed in black and green glanced around.

“Hello. I’m Phantom.”

“The High King,” a ghost whispered. “Our king.”

“He’s an American?” Another one asked, scandalized. Danny, surrounded by those who he recognized as his, cracked the first smile he’s had in a while.

“Who cares? He’s…” The knight sunk to his knees, bowing with his ghostly sword in front of him.

The ghosts bowed. Danny floated in further. “Can you tell me where I am?”

“Of course.”

——

Now… he’s watching the children get Sorted. Weird, for a hat to decide your classmates, but whatever.

Harry Potter’s name is called, and the whispers broke out. He doesn’t know why, but Danny couldn’t ask the ghosts. They barely know the current headmaster, as the dead generally care only for their own times.

Danny decides to visit the lake octopus. Lake squid? Something like that. The mer people beneath the waters liked him, the last time he went. The Sorting is put out of Danny’s mind. He’s dead now, too. The only thing he cares about now is to explore the vast halls of Hogwarts and the occasional visit to the kitchen to steal some food for his living body.

(Thank the Ancients he found a house elf who knew what seasoning was.)

(Sometimes, Danny flew to where his home would have been and gets comfort food at the nearest town. He missed it, but he can’t go back.)

The ghosts know by now to call for Phantom should they need something (“I’m American,” he joked at the ghost. “We’re not big on kings. You can just call me Phantom.”)

——

The third year he’s there, Danny feels the effects of Clockwork’s power. When he investigates, it’s the red headed girl he once saw leaving the library, paper clutched in her hand.

She helped save one of his subjects, so he owes her. Plus, if she’s using Clockwork’s powers, this Hermione has potential.

And… she’s using it to study.

She reminds him of Jazz.

——

A wave of ice crackled and froze the fleeing rat and the feral wolf man.

“What?!” Harry screeched to a stop, eyes wide at the ghost child in front of him.

Danny turned, and landed gently on the ground. Snape snarled at him in suspicion. Danny allowed himself to become living again, black hair and blue eyes and tan skin replacing the white, green, black thing his dead form had.

“Who’re you?” The red-headed boy, Ron?, asked him through gritted teeth.

Danny smiled at them, dimples appearing. “A friend.”

Before the trio and co. could say anything, Danny whips his head around, palm coming up.

“Stop.” He orders. The creeping sense of cold and dread shuttered to a stop. “Go over there,” he said, and the dementors, hovering at the edge of his periphery obeyed. Danny turned back to the mildly terrified and flummoxed group.

“Let’s go. You’re all going to catch a cold, if you don’t move it. Especially you, scrawny and greasy.” He pointed at the godfather and Snape.

——

“Hey, Danny?”

“What, Harry?”

“Why’d you help us? I mean, you said you didn’t want to involve yourself in stuff like that.”

Danny hummed, wisped tail curling up against him as he soaked in the sun’s rays. “Because you reminded me of myself. And in the end, you died.”

“You literally brought me back,” Harry deadpanned, remembering the place between life and death, and how the angry Danny was when he stormed onto that train platform. The King had taken him by the scruff of his shirt collar like a particularly incensed mother cat, and dragged him off away from a puzzled Dumbledore.

“You were being stupid. You’re too young to die.”

“Like you?”

Danny snorted. “Nah. I didn’t have a choice.”

#danny phantom #harry potter #no I don’t like j.k. Rowling nor do I support her views #Danny is sad ghost boi in Hogwarts #he’s got a magical core now but through like adaptation and osmosis or some shit #magic simply doesn’t work on him bc he’s a ghost adjacent #Danny is the mom friend #you wouldn’t think so but he is #totally an enabler but also a mom #Hermione being Clockwork’s fav

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m0chisenpai · 11 months

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Let's Play a Little Game

Post! Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

Obsessive!Prowler!Miles Morales x Spidergirl!Reader

Authors note: THIS READER IS 15. A CHILD. THERE IS NO SMUT. NADA, ZIP, NOTHING. I WILL NOT BE SPICY WRITING A SINGLE THING FOR ANYTHING INVOLVING MILES MORALES.

You’d fought villains twice your size. A crazy octopus with metal tentacles, a man double your size, covered in black spots. Petty criminals brandishing jagged knives. But why was this one so different? He was no different was he?

He was gruff. His body was always rigid, his words were sharp. His eyes were sharp. But the one thing you took notice, how manipulative he was. How he could weasel into the mind, into the minds of men twice his age who did his most dirty work.

You had to pretend. Pretend his syrupy sweet words were true till your hero came. Your lovebug.

His eyes cut to yours as the record scratched to silence in the hideout. Your eyes crack open, he now crouched in front of you. His braids fell to the side. You braided them for him last night. It was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him. His head lay back on your legs as you massaged his scalp. And for a moment your mind went dark as you held the thin sharp rat tooth comb.

One drive straight to the throat was all it took, then you could be free. But then he opened his eyes. And you couldn’t. Because even if he wasn’t your lovebug. He was an exact copy of him. You were in his world, if his men found it was you that took their leader out they would hunt you down.

He stared in your eyes as if daring you, testing your new freedom. And so you carefully parted his hair down the middle. That night you passed the first test.

And now as your sleepy eyes look into his, you remember it’s time. Time for another song and dance. Of playing the part. Another test.

“Sleepy mi vida?”

You can’t bring yourself to speak up and offer him a tired nod as you curl more into the nook of the couch, the bright knitted blanket stands out like a sore thumb, as do you in all your brightness. A reminder how far from home you are.

“A little bit.” your voice is scratchy, you must have slept for an hour at best. The sun was diving into the horizon painting the sky a beautiful mix of oranges and yellows. You sit up stretching your arms above your head and scooch your body forward.

“Nah, take your time amor. Didn’t mean to wake you up” his knuckles stroke down to rest under your chin and his thumb to gently pinch it as he looks up at you with that love sick gaze. He leans forward and you know to meet him halfway and press your lips to his.

He moves back enough to whisper against your lips, “suit up in five, we got business to handle.”

And as he stands to walk to the old player. A soft beat fills the room, your veins as you force yourself to stand. To fight. Your movements are second hand as you don the suit behind a hung up white sheet. You don’t call it yours, Because it's not. Yours is back home. Here he’s created you a new one.

You step out from behind the sheet and in his eyes he drinks you in as you adjust your web shooters.

And in some sick way, maybe you had survived in this universe. Had you been bitten? This would have been your suit. It appealed to a different you, a different version of you buried away somewhere.

It was solid black with black webbings along the thighs and pink in the inner parts of the hood along with your jordans which you go to kneel and tie up but he stops you. He kneels before you and ties them. And just as he gazes up at you, you pull your mask down.

This is what keeps you sane. Because here you're free to sneer down at him as he looks up at you. He wears his own suit now. You hold your hand to him and he wraps his around you and pulls himself up, his hand is quick to reach and snake around you, pulling you flushed against him.

“Deadly and beautiful. The perfect mix” he whispers leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead as he taps the side of his mask to conceal his face.

He watches you as you leap from the building and send your webbing to a building swinging your body to kneel on top of a light pole. You look up and catch his nod as he moves forward. And you follow. Swinging languidly through the cool of night.

You realize now as you swing into the dead of night why he’s unlike the villains, the criminals, the mad scientists. Because as he runs alongside you. As he leads you both into the night. His reflection dancing off the glass of a building. As he looks at you. For a moment you think that’s Miles, your Miles, your lovebug. But it’s not.

Instead, you look into the eyes of Miles, the prowler. Harbored on Earth-42.

And it scares you, because as much as you fight each day, deep down. Somewhere in the dark parts of your heart. Your heart flutters, feels warm for a moment when he holds your gaze, and flashes you that smile.

And you beg for Miles, Gwen, Miguel, Hobie, anyone to find you. Because you fear that somewhere along the line, you’re no longer going to be pretending.

That you failed the ultimate test of love.

#miles morales x reader #miles morales imagine #spiderman across the spiderverse #spidergirl!reader #earth42!miles x reader #prowler!miles x reader

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norrisleclercf1 · 14 days

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would you possible write some oscar fluff? like the reader is a pre-med student going to a really good uni but she's under a lot of pressure and oscar is there to calm her down like she feels overwhelmed and does a lot of all-nighters and he gets worried? is that okay?

A/N: Ughhhh this hit home so much

The amount of times Oscar has come home from a race and found you in a circle filled with pages and books would be more times than he'd like. Most of the time Oscar would make sure his mother or sisters would check up on you when they could. If you stayed in Woking he'd ask Lily a good friend of yours to check up on you.

Everyone knew that being pre-med was hard, and Oscar couldn't be prouder of you and even fans who knew about your strive for a degree would send you messages cheering you on. Oscar was home in England for the month and since moving here with him, and going to University Oscar was able to keep you calm and be there when you needed a break.

He was out for the day, in Woking for meetings and he'd be home soon. Looking at the time you curse seeing 8 hours went by without you moving, eating, or getting anything to drink. Sighing you feel the nerves creep up. You didn't have anything to be nervous about. Your next exam was a month out, and you were acing it.

But that didn't mean you didn't feel the pressure to do well on this exam. You close your eyes and sit up straight, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. It doesn't work. If anything you feel the anxiety bubble up even more, shaking your hands you can feel the burn in your eyes and open them, everything blurry from the tears.

"Y/n! I'm home and I've got your-" Oscar stops when he sees you look up, face blotchy, eyes red and covered in tears, and breathing hard. "I don't know," You whisper, Oscar sighs and places down your favorite takeout food and slides off his backpack. You couldn't even admire his Mclaren letterman jacket with white shirt.

Sitting down careful, not bending any books or tearing any papers. Pulling you into his lap you bury your face into the cold leather, it shocking you out of your mind. "You can cry baby, I'm here." Oscar never made you feel bad for feeling this way, instead he let you work through your emotions and then talk about them.

Oscar traces patterns on your back and just rocks back and forth slowly as you let your mind fall back into place not letting it be so scattered. When he notices you've calmed down enough, he takes deep breaths, which you start to do and sigh and hug him tighter.

"I'm okay, just....got stuck in my head." Oscar hums and stands awkwardly, as he moves you to the couch. "We need to eat," He whispers after a while and wipes your face, not even caring for the snot. "I'm not hungry," Your stomach rolls and you two share a look making you two giggle as Oscar tosses you and you squeal, feeling better as he grabs the bag and you notice what it is.

"Should someone like you being eating this?" Oscar tuns and glares slightly. "Don't rat me out," You giggle and move closer kissing him and rubbing his cheek. "Thank you," Oscar smiles and kisses you again. "Now, let's stuff our faces and watch trashy TV." "Deal," You knew you'd be okay, especially with Oscar by your side.

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transmutationisms · 8 months

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do you know any texts on the connection between fascism/the right and cleanliness/hygiene (purity) rhetoric? anything that goes a bit in depth on the topic?

Getting Under Our Skin: The Cultural and Social History of Vermin (2021). Sarasohn, Lisa Tunick. ISBN: 9781421441382

Dirt: New Geographies of Cleanliness and Contamination (2007). Campkin, Ben & Cox, Rosie (Eds.). ISBN: 9781845116729

The Sanitation of Brazil: Nation, State, and Public Health, 1889-1930 (2016). Hochman, Gilberto. ISBN: 9780252099052

Clean and White: A History of Environmental Racism in the United States (2015). Zimring, Carl A. ISBN: 9781479826940

Colonial Pathologies: American Tropical Medicine, Race, and Hygiene in the Phillipines (2006). Anderson, Warwick H. ISBN: 0822338041

Bacteriology in British India: Laboratory Medicine and the Tropics (2017). Chakrabarti, Pratik. ISBN: 9781580465908

The Great Hanoi Rat Hunt: Empire, Disease, and Modernity in French Colonial Vietnam (2018). Vann, Michael G. & Clarke, Liz. ISBN: 9780190602697

Soap and Water: Cleanliness, Dirt and the Working Classes in Victorian and Edwardian Britain (2010). Kelley, Victoria. ISBN: 9781848850521

Contagion: Disease, government, and the “social question” in 19th-century France (1999). Aisenberg, Andrew R.

Rome, Pollution, and Propriety: Dirt, Disease, and Hygiene in the Eternal City from Antiquity to Modernity (2012). Bradley, Mark & Stow, Kenneth R. ISBN: 9781107014435

Sanitizing South Africa: Race, Racism and Germs in the Making of the Apartheid State, 1880-1980 (2015). Fabio Terence Palmi Zoia. PhD. Dissertation, Indiana University. Available from ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global. (1682266398)

there are also a few theoretical texts in social / cultural anthropology that will be frequent touchstones here, including norbert elias's 'the civilising process' (first published 1939) and mary douglas's 'purity and danger' (1966). i don't honestly think it's worth it or necessary to read these directly, both because they're dated in certain ways and because i think the historical studies are generally more useful. but you will probably notice these two texts & a handful of others repeatedly cropping up in introductory footnotes on this topic.

#book recs #biopolitics

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ratective · 8 months

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I would adore seeing you draw White Diamond! Ur work is gorgeous btw >>

heres an attempt and a little blue cause shes cool shaped

#rat noises #su #steven universe #white diamond #blue diamond #ty <3 !#doodles

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dadsbongos · 7 months

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thinking abt airhead reader but w gojo shoko and getou 😭❤️

okay i ended up doing drabbles and headcanons cuz i have so many different ideas lmao

in another universe airhead pussy woulda saved geto btw

“Sorry, I’m late!” you bound into the classroom, unreactive to the way each floorboard creaks, “This old lady outside needed help down the stairs and then this second year started asking for the time and then-“

“Sit down,” your new teacher unfolds an arm, hand flattened in the direction of a lone empty desk beside a girl with short, dark brown hair.

With knees like jelly, you unsteadily make your way to the chair, heat licking up the back of your neck and around to your cheeks. Eyes scrawl from the dirt-scrubbed white lining of your sneakers to your forehead, but you’re a little too concerned over regaining control of your breathing to notice the way they all glare.

Shoko folds her arms across her chest, eyeing you through her lashes. Satoru leans back into his seat, legs crossed, grins from behind you. Suguru, meanwhile, stares at you with pinched brows and a firm downward draw on his lips.

You scratch your shoulder, entirely unaware of the singular thought searing from your classmates’ heads.

She’s totally going to die first.

And it’s sick how that thought pervades them again even now. More than a year later.

“C’mon!” you snag Satoru by the hand and pull him closer to the yellow tape restricted tunnels of the Shibuya station, “You’re all poor sports, Satoru and I will take this on all by ourselves!”

“Definitely,” hanging his arm across your shoulder, Satoru leans his weight into you, craning the both of you into an angle as you walk. Waving off your remaining classmates, he laughs in the face of Suguru’s furrowed brows, “Why don’t you two just go home? Have a nice spa day since Suguru’s so tired!”

Huffing, Suguru looks down at Shoko as if she had been the one to offend him, “I said that once in the car.”

Shoko shrugs, stubbing out her cigarette on the concrete below before running after you and Satoru into the tunnel with flickering lights and cracked walls, “Leave it to him to be a pain in the ass!”

Your steps mingle and echo in the dim tunnel, you cling tighter to Satoru - wrapping both arms around one of his and tucking the elbow close to your chest. A fat rat scurries past and Satoru giggles when you shove yourself into his side and cartoonishly ‘eek!’ over it.

“You’re so adorable,” he teases, reaching up with his spare hand to pinch at your cheek, cooing, “Here, let me take care of this curse for ya and you can hide with Suguru.”

“Don’t pick on her, Satoru,” the very man slinks up behind the both of you, unlatching his friend’s fingers from your flesh, “It isn’t nice.”

“Yeah!” you chirp, unwrapping yourself from Satoru’s side and slipping back to match Shoko’s unhurried strides. Your eyes widen at the sight of her already flicking down the pad of her lighter, igniting the end of yet another cigarette, “Shoko…?”

“I can use reverse cursed technique, it's basically like it didn’t happen,” she rolls her eyes.

“I can, too, that doesn’t mean I go around sucking down tobacco!”

“Sucking down?” Satoru snickers, looking at you from over his shoulder, lowering the thick black lenses of his glasses.

Suguru smacks his friend sharply in the shoulder, glare quickly softening when his eyes shift to you, “We’re proud of you.”

“She can be proud of herself,” Shoko blows a thicket of smoke towards Suguru and laughs when he sneers, rearing back, “The two so-called strongest can’t even use reverse cursed technique, but my student did,” she pretends to wipe a tear from her eye.

“It was honestly pretty easy, I just went ‘hioy’ instead of ‘fwoy’ like Shoko said!”

“Exactly!”

And you slam into Suguru’s back with a guttural ‘ugh!’ while Shoko pauses a healthy handful of steps behind Satoru. Suguru twists and chuckles, setting his broad palm against the top of your head to walk you up beside him, “You should watch where you’re going.”

Satoru nods stiffly, hands on his hips like a disappointed mother, “How do you expect to survive as a sorcerer if you can’t sense the energy of a beloved friend?”

“Don’t be mean to me!” you walk out in front of Satoru and smack him in the chest, “It’s totally uncalled for!”

“Hey, ding dong,” Shoko points out behind you, “He’s got a point.”

“Huh?”

You’re not given much time to question it before a burning slithers around your ankle, scorching through your black leggings and wringing your leg tightly to the side. Wooziness hits as the blood in your body races to your head, a dark purple tendril hanging you upside down like a treat before a plump snake.

And it’s so sick and twisted and totally justified that they all have the same thought.

She’s totally going to die first.

Though, now, it’s much more of a heart pounding, throat cinching fear as well.

Not a second of you being flung in the air passes before all three of your classmates are clambering at the curse’s metaphorical and literal throat.

…

“Hey,” Shoko slides her knee into yours, resting her chin in the palm of her hand while staring at you, “Wanna try?”

She holds out the cherry-lit cigarette between two slender fingers, you twist around to see if Satoru or Suguru are even close to the front steps, “I don’t know…”

“They won’t even know!”

“Hm, will I like it?”

Shrugging, Shoko shoves the cigarette closer to your face and fails to smother down her giggle when you gag at the smell, “Aw, you’re adorable. Here - smoke.”

“You’re just trying to kill me,” you whine, plucking the cigarette from her and taking it between your lips.

And as you inhale, is when Shoko decides to answer your question, “You’ll hate it, by the way.”

And you do. Chest squeezing shut upon that first inhale, your shoulders squeeze closer to your body and you press your face into the crook of your elbow as you cough out the rejected chemicals. Shoko snatches back her cigarette with one hand and pats your back sympathetically with the other.

“Poor baby,” she ‘tsk’s, shaking her head.

“Why do you smoke those?” you wheeze, “So gross!”

“Yeah, yeah, act normal - the idiots are here.”

“They are?!” and she laughs again at how your spine shoots steel rod straight and your head swivels in search of your fellow second years (of whom are nowhere to be found).

…

“C’mere, kitty kitty!” you hang a hand out in the drippy, garbage cluttered alley, rubbing the tips of your fingers together as if that’d catch the creature’s attention, “Come on, sweet baby!”

Satoru watches with both hands stuffed in his pockets while Suguru has to cage his own behind his back to keep himself from grabbing you away from the shaking, tipped over tin can.

“We can’t keep letting her do this,” Suguru’s foot taps impatiently.

“Just let our Guilmon have fun,” yawning, Satoru leans his head onto one shoulder, “Two more minutes and then we’ll drag her away.”

“Two minutes?” Suguru glares at his counterpart, “That’s so much time to get rabies.”

You ‘pspsps’ into the dark alley, outstretching your other hand and wiggling your fingers towards the green-eyed possum hissing at you from the trash can, “I won’t bite, I promise!”

...

Additional Bullshit Headcanons (cuz i was having fun)

Suguru kinda took to you first because he was in his by-the-books era and didn’t want comrades dying unnecessarily

And by making you hang out with him, he ended up devilishly charmed by you <3

Through Suguru you’re hanging out with Satoru all the time, and he EATS up all your praise and compliments about his power and skills

Satoru also likes being able to just engage in your sillies and goofies

Sure, he can do that with Shoko and Suguru but that usually ends up in one of them being his “straight man”, but you’re blind to comedy routines and duos so you just bounce off each other’s idiocy for fun

Shoko, however, is evil - she loves messing with you

You’re so gullible and trusting that she can’t help but to fuck with you - in totally harmless ways, though!!

“Hey, you know that food fills up from your feet to your head as you eat, right?”

“Yeah, it hasn’t rained because you’re not thankful enough for the plants.”

When missions are slower and everyone’s free, you’re usually the one initiating outings because nobody else takes the fucking lead lol

It’s just a lot easier to get YOU psyched up for things because you’re already bubbly and excited to be around your friends, and then you convince Satoru and the two of you can get Suguru on board instantly - and if it’s you three vs Shoko then…

Okay Hidden Inventory arc time

You were sent out with Satoru and Suguru at the insistence of Yaga because even if you weren’t as strong as the other two, he knew you had SOMEWHAT more tact

And he knew that keeping Riko as calm and happy before her assimilation was essential + you being peacekeeper between the ding dongs and whatever poor civilians they might hassle

You and Gojo end up staying back to fight Toji and he fucks you up :)

L-O-L funny haha, you were feeling confident and strong with Satoru at your side and he gets your fucking ass <3

Satoru is trying to keep his focus on his fight, knowing that no matter how stupid you are - you’re not dumb enough to not be using reverse CT right now

When Satoru gets up, you’re in shock but he just sends you out to find Suguru

When you three return, life is… different :)

You’re trying to keep up your positive attitude even though now they both know there’s gnarly scars running under all your uniforms

You pick up on Suguru’s change IMMEDIATELY, and no matter how much he complains about the lack of space - you refuse to part from his side

Not to claim that maybe all Geto needed WAS in fact a little airhead pussy, but I don’t think he’s leaving when you’re there

When he gets all :( over Satoru’s new position as the strongest and feeling misunderstood, you’re already like “hey man, maybe the answer isn’t genocide”

And he actually does tell you what he’s feeling in full after talking to Yuki

“I’m thinking that if we kill all non-jujutsu users, then we can all be happy.”

“Suguru, that makes sense, but it’s also very pro-eugenics, which is a big no-no.”

It’s a big process, one that you’re villainously underqualified to take on

“Suguru, taking Tsukumo’s words to heart sounds like a really bad idea…”

You end up doing a reversal on his prior conversation with Satoru about the village Nanako and Mimiko are in, where you point out what little good will come about from killing all the inhabitants

And you let Satoru and Shoko and even Yaga blame you for taking Nanako and Mimiko from their village even though it was definitely Suguru’s idea

In short, Geto and you raise Nanako and Mimiko (and eventually Megumi and Tsumiki ‘cuz Satoru can’t be left out for 2 seconds) and even though he still doesn’t really like non-jujutsu users he doesn’t leave

It’s just more of that customer service bitterness where he can interact but walks away wishing nothing but the worst upon the “bad ones” he meets

And he finds a reason to exorcize curses in lifting the workload from you and Satoru and Shoko (and eventually the kids, if they become sorcerers) rather than pretending to care about the population’s well-being

#jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #suguru x reader #shoko x reader #shoko ieri x reader #airhead reader

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mari-the-bimbo · 1 year

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Dorm mate Gojo: you fail your exam

A/N: Hi guys I’ve just failed my exam so here’s a coping mechanism with ya favourite boy 💗

You cry into your pillow, trying to even out your breathing. Your head hurts as you think about the words written across the exam result pdf.

Fail.

How could you have possibly failed an exam you put your all in? University is a bitch.

You can hear Geto in the kitchen, already chopping up onions, prepping to make you some comforting chicken katsu. You’re thankful for a friend like him.

You try to ignore the 6’3 figure standing awkwardly by your bedroom door in silence, but it’s hard to when he kept fidgeting with stuff in your room.

You look up to see Gojo already staring at you, hands in his pockets as he leans back into the wall.

“What?” You ask with a voice crack.

He sighs before sauntering his way across the room, finally towering in front of your lying figure.

He grabs the plushie that resided beside you and threw it across the room. “Gojo what the fuck” you say half heartedly, too tired to argue with the mischievous man.

Your arm that you had extended to grab your plushie back was then captured by Gojo’s strong grip, intertwining them as he drops next to you.

He gives you nothing but a cocky smile as he lays in that spot instead. His big, 6’3 figure tries to get comfortable on your small bed, his feet dangling from the end of the bed.

“Why cuddle a stuffed rat when you could cuddle me pea brain?” he says with a charming smile as he lays on his side to face you, his pale finger gently tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Hello kitty is a cat, not a rat you idiot” you mutter, making him laugh.

But then you’re caught off guard as the white haired man traps you into his arms, wrapping them around you snuggly. “Well Hello Kitty needs to know you’re mine” he replies. “and that I need to be here for my pea brain right now” he adds, making your tears well up once again.

He hears you wince, and was smart enough to realise you were about to cry again. He hums before whispering soothing words into your ears, soothing words you didn’t know he was capable of doing.

“That one grade doesn’t reflect your intelligence and abilities pretty girl.” He says as he rocks you back and forth. His one arm stroking your head, while his other arm stretched out to grab your phone and turn it off, so no nosy students try to ask about your grades.

You let yourself melt into the broad chest of your lover, engulfed in his warmth and occasional awful jokes.

“Your nose is getting snotty, so you want me to pick it for you?” He teases, as he pretends to put his pale finger up your nose.

“Stopp ~” you whine through the tears, but he laughs charmingly before rubbing your noses together and punches your cheeks affectionately. “You’re so cute snotty” he calls you, achieving a small laugh out of you at the new ridiculous nickname.

The day started to feel much better eventually.

Well, after Gojo and Geto finished spoon feeding you, insisting you are their baby.

And after a call with Shoko, who soothed your concerns but was also encouraging you to cheat on the resit exam 🫡

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