Tumgik
#to build a home
just-jordie-things · 6 months
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[epilogue] to build a home - gojo satoru
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word count: 25.4k warnings: swearing, drinking. reader has absent parents summary: just a handful of events that transpired after the conclusion of to build a home.
to build a home series masterlist
[epilogue] : "For You, For Me"
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[ cause i built a home, for you, for me ]
Maybe it was just the beautiful stretch of summer into early fall, but the days had seemed lighter.  As though the sun’s rays lasted a little longer each day, as though the great bright star couldn’t bear to part with the day too soon.
Or maybe (y/n) was just so sickeningly happy all the time that she finally noticed the sunny days when they came around, and learned to properly appreciate them.  If the sun was shining, she was dragging the two kids out of the apartment and anywhere else- as long as they were outside.
Summer vacation was mostly spent at the park, or at the public market, when Megumi was in a good enough mood to go, anyways.  Tsumiki loved going to the market with (y/n), especially since she’d get to pick out all of her favorite fruits and veggies for the upcoming week.  Megumi mostly clung like a shadow behind (y/n), hating the busy space and strangers who were too friendly.  There was the rare occasion that he’d want to look at the stalls of old books, and (y/n) found that with the promise of looking for a new book, he would relax a little more in the high traffic area.  Was it bribery? Maybe.  But didn’t all parents have to bribe their kids at some point? 
Most nights were spent relaxing, a luxury that (y/n) wouldn’t give up for all the treasures of the world.  
Gathering in the living room to watch a movie with snacks covering the coffee table had become a weekly ritual.  They took turns picking out a movie, and the rule was always that if they could compromise when it’s a movie one of them isn’t interested in, then snacks were on her.  Of course a certain Six Eyes user tended to drop by not-so-at-random with a backpack full of sweets and long limbs that took up most of the couch.  Megumi would bring a pile of blankets to the floor when Satoru joined them for movie nights, claiming that he and (y/n) would hog all the cushions.  It was mostly Satoru, as (y/n) would try to cling to one side of the sofa, but her attempts were to no avail.  Satoru always found a way to crowd her until she was practically curled up under his arm.  Megumi would stick his tongue out in Tsumiki’s direction, disgusted by the abundance of physical affection that Satoru demanded to give to (y/n).  Tsumiki, however, always found it sweet.
Other nights they’d spend in comfortable silence, the three of them in their favorite cozy spots as they read to themselves.  (y/n) often sprawled across the living room sofa with whatever she was reading.  Tsumiki liked to read in a little nook she’d made in the corner of her room, complete with a string of twinkly lights and a big bean bag chair.  Megumi would join (y/n) in the living room, sitting in the oversized chair that matched the living room set.  He was so small in the large cushions he could lay any which way he pleased, but he most often sat crisscrossed with his new favorite book in his lap.  Sometimes (y/n) would convince him to read to her, even when he was halfway through a story she hadn’t been familiar with.  She enjoyed the peaceful quality time, even if it was spent in hours of silence.
And then there was her favorite way for the kids to spend their evenings- coloring.  It was a simple activity, one that she’d indulged in as a child often enough, but hadn’t thought much about until she’d randomly picked up a big pack of crayons on a grocery trip.  It must’ve been a good choice, because Megumi and Tsumiki got right to work on their imaginations.  Now their rooms, and the refrigerator, were covered in their artwork.  Tsumiki liked to draw flowers, sometimes full meadows complete with a sunny sky and rainbows, and sometimes she’d practice different petals with different colors, always trying to learn new things.  Megumi liked to draw his shikigami, giving each one that manifests it’s own name.  He also liked to draw characters from his favorite books.  (y/n) helped him to carefully tape them up on his bookshelf to display properly.  However she had hand-picked a few of their drawings to go on the fridge- which held the same honor as a knight being sworn into duty.  There were a few of Tsumiki’s flowers, and a few of Megumi’s favorite scenes from his books- even the darker ones that held a touch of blood and gore (y/n) would have to talk to him about before he went back to school- but there was one in particular that outshined them all.
It was a drawing they’d done together, on a larger piece of cardstock, of all of them.  There was a carefully drawn out scribble that resembled her, in her signature uniform- black collared jacket and matching black pants- her hair was meticulously thought out, the crayon color carefully chosen, and the strokes of length determined while the pair of kids studied her closely, making sure that their drawing resembled her true form perfectly.  On either side of her stick figure self was one of them, Megumi identified by the sea urchin he’d drawn on top of his head, and Tsumiki by the smile that took up her whole face and the big pink bow in her hair that she wore religiously since (y/n) had gotten it for her.  Lastly, and maybe (y/n’s) favorite part, was that Megumi had chosen to add his dogs to the family portrait.  Sitting right beside each other with little squiggles around their tails to show they were happily wagging, and complete with the red markings on their heads.
As soon as they’d presented this drawing to (y/n), she’d almost burst into tears at how sweet it was.  They laughed at her teary eyes while she smiled and gazed fondly at the picture, taking in every little detail and committing it to memory.  She deemed it the greatest gift she’d ever received, and marched it right to the fridge, clipping it up with magnets.  It took up most of the freezer door, but it would stay there until it was time for it to be moved to a new fridge.
When back to school season rolled around, (y/n) dragged them off to the mall, proudly displaying her earnings from the assignments she’d picked up over the summer.  Now that she wasn’t a student anymore, getting paid to exorcize demons had become a great source of income.  Of course in the midst of Megumi and Tsumiki ogling all the new backpacks with bright colors and anime characters, their favorite special grade sorcerer showed up with a black card that seemed to hold boundless funds, as he paid for every little thing either one of the children picked up.
“They’re going to grow up with a bad understanding of how money works, Satoru” (y/n) had scolded him while Megumi and Tsumiki watched a cashier ring up hundreds of dollars worth of supplies they ‘needed’.
“Nah, I’ll buy them the best tutor in Japan so they don’t” He’d replied, sticking his tongue out at her.
(y/n) rolled her eyes, but as she turned her head away to ignore him, she couldn’t help the small smile that graced her face.  She’d been making enough money to support this small makeshift family, but having Satoru around to help was still appreciated.  Of course, she could never tell him that.  His ego was big enough for the both of them.
Once school was back in session, a decent routine was established.  (y/n) picked up as many assignments during the days as she could, so that her nights could be spent helping them with homework, making dinner, getting chores done, and all the other little things that eat away at your free time when you’re an adult.  Not that she could complain, she adored every minute of the new life she worked to maintain.  However there was the occasion where an assignment too good to pass up would be on her radar in the evenings.  It only took one mention of this to Satoru for him to enlist himself as a babysitter.
It wasn’t often that she’d be gone in the evenings.  She liked to be present at all times when Megumi and Tsumiki were home.  They’d spent too much of their lives being alone, and while they proved to be self-sufficient, it made (y/n’s) heart sink at the thought of purposefully leaving them home alone.  So when Satoru showed up on the evening she’d been offered a well-paid assignment to hunt down a Grade Two cursed object, she let him stay to watch the kids.  Not before giving Tsumiki all of the emergency numbers she could think of, and reminding Megumi of the pendant she’d given him, also in the case of an emergency.
“It’s like you don’t trust me, sweetheart!” Satoru had laughed when she spent too long saying her goodbyes at the door.  He hastily began pushing her out, making sure her weapons were secure in their holsters on her back.  “Go! Go! Have fun! We’ll be fine here!” 
“Okay, just don’t forget they go to bed at-” 
“Nine o’clock, I’ve got it” 
“And they need to brush their teeth-” 
“I’m capable!” He barked at her, all but closing the door in her face while he wore a massive grin.
Long story short, Satoru had given the Fushiguro kids twenty bucks if they promised not to tell her that they’d been up long past their bedtime watching an anime with him that was probably less than appropriate for their age.  But they’d just loved it so much he’d insisted they binge half the series.  It was the closest thing to quality time with Megumi that he was going to get, as the kid begrudgingly sat on the couch next to him with his eyes glued to the screen.  Satoru did his best to cover their eyes when an unsavory scene played, which Tsumiki appreciated, but Megumi always pawed the man’s hand away so he could see what was happening.
“If you get nightmares, (y/n’s) going to kill me” He scolded, clamping his palm over the kid’s whole face to ensure he wasn’t going to catch sight of any true horror.
“I don’t get nightmares!” Megumi argued, trying to claw the hand off his face, but his efforts led nowhere, and he only found himself more annoyed as the man-child laughed at the attempt.
It was nearing the middle of the night when Satoru finally turned off the television and sent them off to brush their teeth.  Worried (y/n) would return soon and catch them in the act of disobeying her few rules, he rushed them with hurried claps and chanting to get them into their pajamas and under the covers.  It was Megumi who’d attempted blackmailing him, reminding him that (y/n) was going to know they were up late.  With an amused grin he’d given the boy a fiver.
“Five dollars?” Megumi gave him a bored look, remembering that shopping day with the magic black credit card that paid for his and Tsumiki’s back-to-school haul.  (And a few things for (y/n) too, no matter how much she protested)
Grimacing, Satoru smacked a twenty on his nightstand with the warning that any more, and he’d tell (y/n) he acted up all night and should be punished.  Megumi stuck his tongue out at the man as he flipped off the lights and shut the door for the night.
Joke’s on him, the boy thought bitterly as he settled into his blankets.  (y/n) would believe me over that grown child any day of the week, he thinks with certainty.  He wasn’t wrong.  If it was Satoru’s word against Megumi’s, the liar was evident in his charming smile and flashing eyes.
Satoru had just come back to the living room to clean up the small mess of blankets they’d made when the doorknob rattled with the familiar sound of a key unlocking it.  (y/n) dragged her feet as she made her way inside, a bit surprised to see Satoru awake and alert, her collection of throw blankets draped over his arms and shoulders.
“How’d the assignment go?” He asked as she kicked off her boots, flinging them towards the door with lazy movements.
“I completed it, let’s leave it at that,” She says, and he’d take concern in her words if they weren’t followed by a chuckle, and a small smile sent his way.  “Thank you for watching the kids, Satoru, I really appreciate it” 
He thinks back to this night often, as it was the beginning of (y/n) putting some trust in him as a caretaker.  
Every few weeks now he’d show up in the evening to put the kids to bed while she was out exorcizing curses.  Babysitting slowly morphed into him inviting himself over for movie nights, or even for no reason at all.  The kids- yes, Megumi too- grew used to the man showing up unannounced, before school while (y/n) made breakfast, or during pickup time right by her side, seemingly just as excited to greet them as she was.  He just seemed to be around, sometimes.  Tsumiki loved it, as it usually meant spoiling with toys and ice cream and whatever else (y/n) would let him get away with.  Megumi… tolerated it.  But at least he didn’t despise it anymore.
There was a morning (y/n) had gotten a call from Jujutsu Tech just as she was prepping their lunches for that day, and to her luck Satoru was there and happy to make their lunches for them so that she didn’t have to ignore what could potentially be an important call.
“Okay, just, do you mind making them a little drawing or note, too?” She’d rummaged through a messy cabinet drawer to produce a pack of post-it notes and a pink marker.  “I always leave them a message, or a doodle, or something” 
With her phone pressed between her shoulder and ear as she intently listened to whoever was on the other end, Satoru grinned as he accepted this mission, and got to work.
It wasn’t until she picked them up from school that (y/n) realized her mistake.  Megumi was clutching his stomach as he hobbled towards her in the courtyard, while Tsumiki was skipping along beside her brother, happier than ever.
“What’s wrong? Tummy hurt?” (y/n) knelt down before the boy, her hand resting over her forehead to see if it was a fever.  He groaned and practically fell against her.
“Carry me” 
It wasn’t like him, so she had to laugh as she slung his little backpack over her arm before lifting him up, hearing him groan and moan as all the sweets in his stomach sloshed around like poison.
“Gojo gave us candy! And cookies!” 
(y/n’s) head swiveled down to where Tsumiki was walking- well, still skipping- at her side. 
“What did you say?” 
“Gojo gave us sweets for lunch,” Megumi grumbled as his head slumped into her shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut as a particularly painful knot wound itself up in his stomach.  “And money” 
“What!?” (y/n) snapped, louder than she should have, as the other parents at pick-up gave her a mix of shocked and dirty looks.  Not that she cared.  Her kid was sick and it was because that idiot didn’t know what a vegetable looked like!
“I got fifty dollars!” Tsumiki cheered.
“I got a hundred” Megumi whined.
(y/n) gave the boy a few children’s tums as soon as they got back to the apartment, before tucking him into bed so he could hopefully sleep off the tummyache.
“You just rest, don’t worry about your homework, I’ll call the school if you can’t get to it tonight, okay?” 
Megumi only grumbled and groaned in his gratitude as he curled in on himself.  (y/n) frowned.  The poor kid was squirming around in discomfort and there wasn’t much else she could do about it.
Well, there was one thing…
“Hey sweetheart,” Satoru’s grin could be heard even through the phone.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call~?”
“Gojo Satoru, you get your ass to this apartment right now!” 
From her spot at the kitchen table where she’d been studiously doing her homework, Tsumiki perked right up at (y/n’s) hollering from the living room.  Her eyes went wide as she grinned with excitement.  She’d never seen (y/n) mad before, not like this anyways.
Just as she’d summoned him, the man himself stood before her in the living room, grinning as though he hadn’t just been screamed at.
“Pretty early in the day for a bootycall-” 
“Satoru!” (y/n) barked at him, her arms flying out as she placed her hands on her hips.  “Did you give the kids sweets and money for their lunch!?”
“Yeah, they loved it, right?” He looked proud, and she swore she could strangle him.
If she had a nickel for every time she didn’t strangle him…
Tsumiki couldn’t even pretend to do her homework while (y/n) went on a long rant about how much of an idiot was, followed by something about not knowing how to make a sandwich, and then the grand finale of her grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him down the hallway so he could see the effects of his unhealthy meal for Megumi.  Even as (y/n’s) scolding took on hushed whispers so as not to wake the sleeping boy, Tsumiki could still hear the harsh tone from down the hall.
When she was dragging him back towards the kitchen again, the young girl quickly picked up her pencil and kept her eyes on her paper.  She wasn’t fast enough, as Satoru noticed and stuck his tongue out at her.
‘Tattletale’ he mouthed at her.
She grinned back at him unapologetically.
(y/n) spent the next fifteen minutes giving Satoru a full tour of the kitchen, pointing out each and every item each of the kids loved, and then she dragged him through it all again to show him what they each disliked.  Tsumiki worked on her studies the whole time, and not once did she see the white haired man complain.  He certainly didn’t look pleased about spending his afternoon being scolded like a misbehaving pet, but he didn’t make a peep about it.
He even stuck around the rest of the afternoon to help out with any other chores (y/n) needed done, and he helped make dinner, too.  Well, (y/n) was the one instructing him on what to do, but Tsumiki found the meal to be edible, and actually semi-okay!
(y/n) let him get off easy, as long as he apologized to Megumi when he woke up.  Which he did, and which Megumi begrudgingly accepted.
He’s given the chance to completely redeem himself a few weeks later on a morning (y/n) made pancakes for breakfast.  He made the Fushiguro kids the perfect lunches as he’d called them, and he insisted only a heaping scoop of chocolate chips in his pancakes, not theirs.  (Though he did sneak a handful into Tsumiki’s grabby hands when she caught him dumping the entire bag into the batter).  He even added his own notes in their lunch bags, even though (y/n) had already put her own doodles in them.
Have a good day! Don’t forget to participate a lot so the teacher favors you and gives you good grades! He’d written for Tsumiki.
Make sure to tell (y/n/n) that this lunch was made extra special for you so i get some brownie points <3 Was Megumi’s note.
He rolled his eyes as he crumpled it up and threw it back into his lunch bag without a second thought.  When he’d brought it home that day and put it back in it’s spot in the cupboard he’d completely forgotten it.  So it sat there until the next morning when (y/n) was preparing their lunches again.
When she unzipped the bag to see the small piece of trash, she’d almost made the mistake of scolding Megumi for not throwing it away.  But for some reason curiosity got the best of her as she smoothed out the creases of the pink post-it, only to be gifted with a nervous swell of her heart.  She couldn’t explain why, but she tucked it away in her pocket and went about the rest of the morning with a smile on her face.  Megumi and Tsumiki were just glad to see her in a good mood, and didn’t question it too much.
The subject of the note didn’t come up again until the night of (y/n’s) twentieth birthday.
With it being such a big milestone, Shoko insisted on taking her out for the night.  She’d been twenty for a few months longer, and had been biting at the bit to have her best friend share nights with her on the dancefloor at the bar she’d been frequenting mostly alone.  Satoru would go with her sometimes as well, since he was of age too, but Shoko claimed it was no fun when he wouldn’t drink.  (y/n’s) birthday was a big deal.
So naturally and per Shoko’s demand, Satoru was set to babysit- as much as the Fushiguro kids hated the word- while Shoko took (y/n) out for the night.  And it went…
“Would you take the damn shoes off already? You’re going to break an ankle” Satoru’s arm shot out to stabilize the giggling, wasted girl stumbling beside him as he tried to guide her through her building’s lobby.
“No,” (y/n) shook her head defiantly before swatting his hand at her waist with the same attitude.  He didn’t move it, and she didn’t try to push off his help again.  “I loooove these shoes!” 
In an eager display she kicked her foot outwards, showing off the strappy heel that was already starting to untie at her ankle and droop a bit off of her foot.  To Satoru’s surprise, she actually kept her balance perfectly fine on one foot.
“Keep your feet on the ground,” He reprimands anyways, just as she goes back to walking normally.  “Don’t make me teleport you up there” 
“Don’t you dare!” She shouts back at him, and he has to fight off a laugh as he shushes her.
He’d seen (y/n) drink before, on the occasion Shoko or Suguru had managed to get their hands on anything, but he’d never seen her like this.  Although he’d been slightly annoyed when he’d been called to play designated teleporter and bring both girls home from their celebration at a club he’d never heard of.  The annoyance only increased tenfold when after the initial trip, (y/n) had warned him she was bound to be sick if he did it again.  Which led them here, with Satoru trying to corral her into the elevator at two in the morning.
He’d rought Shoko straight to the spare room, where she’d passed out on top of the covers without so much as a goodnight.  She’d wake up feeling like she’d been struck by a bus for sure, but at least she had no issue with the effects of teleporting.
She continued to grumble about her offense to his threat.  Satoru chuckled as he all but pulled her into the elevator.
“I’m not, I’m not,” He assured her, making sure she was steady leaning back against the wall before pressing the button for her floor.  “You’re not gonna get sick in here, are you?” 
She shakes her head, but her eyes are closed as she cranes her neck all the way back, grinning at who-knows-what.  Nothing amusing had happened- besides her own drunken antics- but Satoru finds himself infected by her, and he’s smiling as well.
“It was sooo m’ch fun,” She answered his unspoken curiosity.  “Shoko’s a realllyy good dancer, I had n’ idea” 
“I’m glad it was fun,” He tells her, and he means it.  Even when he has to guide her off the elevator and to her door like it was her first time there.  “You’ll have to take me dancing with you next time, I could show you some moves” 
Normally she rolls her eyes at his flirting, or hits his shoulder in that silent motion she always does to remind him that they were friends and she’d drawn a thick line in the sand just to prove it.  Tonight, she giggles like she couldn’t have kept her humor and joy contained if she tried.  Her teeth flash as she grins from ear to ear, her eyes crinkle and they smudge some of her mascara against her skin as they do but she doesn’t seem to care.  She doesn’t seem to notice.  She just smiles and laughs at him.
His heart warms, so much he worries it might melt completely if he leaves it there in the palms of her hands, but he lets it remain in it’s place anyway as he pauses at the door of her apartment, lingering in the hall for just a moment longer so he could admire her like this.
Happy.  Happy with him.
Satoru might be delusional, but her head tilts to the side, almost dropping to her shoulder from how heavy it feels, and he thinks from the look in her eye, that maybe she could be admiring him, too.
Reality is cruel and reminds him that even if she was, she wasn’t in the right state of mind, and she very well could have been lost in her thoughts.  So he pushes his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose before unlocking the door and making sure she walked in okay.
“You’re home!” 
The excited cheer from Tsumiki is quickly drowned out by Satoru’s scolding.
“What are you both doing up?” He asked, uncharacteristically irritated with them.
“You left,” Tsumiki shrugged innocently.
Megumi, who sat beside her on the sofa, seemed to have fallen asleep against the armrest, his arms wrapped around his head for a better cushion as he continued to slumber, even through his sister’s loud shriek.
“And we wanted to give (y/n) her birthday present” The girl finished sweetly.
“It’s two in the morning, it’s not even her birthday anym-” 
“Awww!” (y/n) cooed as she clasped her hands over her mouth in shock.  “Tsu that’s so sweet of you! I can’t wait to see it!” 
It took some arguing, but Satoru eventually convinced (y/n) to get her ridiculous heels off while he put the kids back to bed.  Megumi didn’t fuss once when he picked him up off the couch.  He didn’t even bat an eye.  Tsumiki was a bit more upset with the trip back to bed.
“But she wants her present!” 
“You can give it to her in the morning,” Satoru told her.  “It’s late.  She’s going to crash.  Trust me, she’ll be far more excited about it tomorrow” 
Tsumiki pouted as she begrudgingly climbed into bed, but didn’t argue again after Satoru tucked her in and shut her door for the night.  She even gave him a small goodnight.
“Sweet dreams, kiddo” 
“Is (y/n) going to be okay?” She asked before he could shut the door all the way.  He laughed to himself, nodding his head.
“Nothing to worry about, she might just have a tummy ache.  She’ll sleep it off,” He assured her.  Tsumiki nodded back at him as she settled back into her feathery pillow, overwhelmed by her sleepiness rather quickly.  “Just get some sleep, I’ll take care of her” 
Tsumiki seems satisfied with this answer, as she nods and starts to drift off to sleep.  What Megumi lacked in faith in Satoru, Tsumiki made up for tenfold.  For starters, she seemed to actually like him.  She was always happy to have him as company, always trying to climb up to his shoulders and demanding he piggy back her anywhere they went.  Megumi tended to cling to (y/n’s) side, knowing she’d protect him from Satoru’s physical affections.  But secondly, Tsumiki could pick up on the sweet little things that her younger brother didn’t.  She noticed the way that Satoru listened when (y/n) was talking.  The way his eyes never lost focus when they were on her, the way his teasing picked up, as did the pet names.  Honestly, Tsumiki wasn’t sure if Megumi didn’t notice, or if he was completely ignoring it, because it was hard to miss.  
Satoru was very sweet on (y/n).
So when he said he’d take care of her for the night, Tsumiki believed him.
Before Satoru can make his way back to the living room where he’d left the plastered birthday girl, he could hear her across the hall, a soft voice through the open door opposite of Tsumiki’s.
He peeks his head through the crack in the door, about to chastise her for waking up the sleeping eight year old, but the scold dies in his throat as he catches sight of them.
She’s perched on the side of his bed, one leg tucked under herself as she hums a gentle, melodic tune.  One hand is combing through the mess of Megumi’s hair that’s grown tangled from his tossing and turning, and he doesn’t seem to stir or be bothered at all from the action like he usually is when someone touches his hair.  But even more out of character than that, when (y/n) reaches her free hand to grab the one that Megumi had hanging off his mattress, he lets her hold onto it for a lingering minute after she carefully sets it on a more comfortable place over his covers.  A few lyrics slip past her lips in a murmur of a lullaby amidst her humming.  She gives his hand a squeeze, just a gentle little affirmation to remind him that she was there.
Even from the doorway, Satoru can see the boy’s small fingers wrap around her hand, squeezing back, and then keeping his hold on her.  His initial surprise melts away into something softer.  A warm feeling washing over his chest from knowing that Megumi found a comfort in the woman’s presence, and while he was often too reserved to tell her outright, like his sister would, it was still known that (y/n’s) care for these kids was mutual, returned by the both of them greatly.
With a small smile, (y/n) glances over to Satoru in the hallway, as though to silently ask if he’d seen the small action.  He nodded back at her, before beckoning her to leave the room and let the boy sleep.
“Sleep tight, ‘gumi,” She mumbles softly, giving his head an affectionate scratch before pulling her hand from his hair.  “Love you” 
It was small, but undeniably heard when the half-conscious child mumbles back, “Love you too” 
(y/n) pauses as she’s standing from his bed, her eyes widening with soft surprise at the whispered words.  It hits her then that in the few times she’d casually bestowed them upon the kids it was never quite returned.  Megumi had drifted off to sleep just as her weight had shifted off his mattress, but still, she stood over him with a look on her face as if she expected an explanation.
Not that she needed one- the words spoke for themselves.  Her lips curled into a smile and the alcohol in her system wasn’t the only thing making her chest feel warm.  She gave his hand another squeeze before carefully letting go, making sure it stayed in a place where it wouldn’t hang off the bed again.
On the tips of her toes she leaves the room to join Satoru in the hall.  He makes sure the door is silent as he closes it behind her.
Her small smile breaks into a grin as she gazes up at him, unable to contain her excitement from hearing those silly little words.
“Did you hear that?” She murmurs as her hands grab the front of his shirt.  The quick motion almost has him stumbling as she bounces eagerly.  “He’s never said that to me before!” Her whispered squealing has Satoru mirroring her grin.
“I heard.  I’m happy for you sweetheart,” He tells her, trying to guide her to her room so she could finally crash for the night.  She stumbles along much more pliantly than she had before.  “Not that you needed him to tell you, of course the kid loves you.  They both do” 
A bashful shade of pink dusts her face as they enter her bedroom.  She falls back onto her bed with a content sigh, despite Satoru trying to get her to change into something more comfortable than the fitted little thing she’d called a dress that she’d gone out dancing in.
“I guess I knew that, but, still, it’s nice to hear,” She murmurs up at the ceiling as she stretches her arms across the length of her bed.  She’s bent over it, her toes barely touching the floor as her legs dangle off the side, but in her stupor she seems comfortable enough.  “Makes me feel like I’m doing something right, yaknow?” 
She pats the spot beside her with her hand, and Satoru drags his feet a bit as he wanders over and sits next to her.
“You don’t need to be told that either,” He muses.  
He rests his palms behind him as he lets himself get comfortable in her space.  When they still lived in dorms, he spent just as much time in her room as he did his own.  Now that he thinks about it, he was probably in hers much more than anyone else’s.  It hadn’t seemed weird back then, but now, it feels personal.  Intimate.  He wonders if she feels that way, or if the invitation into her most private space had been extended without a second thought.  Satoru pulls the shades off his face and tosses them to the side, between the two of them.
“They know you love them, too.  Always have,” He reassures her.  “You’ve done right by them.  You gotta know that” 
(y/n) tilts her head back against the covers, peering up at him from under heavy eyelids as he gazes down at her fondly.  Her room is only lit by the hallway light that’s peeking in through the crack in her not-quite-closed door, and the soft yellow hue paints over his face in a way that somehow makes him more alluring.  Her lowered defenses had her eyes wandering his features longer than she would have had her sober mind worked correctly and reminded her to shut down that curiosity.
That is, she stares at him until the heat in her face and the rapid beating of her heart overstimulates her and she makes herself look away before she says or does something she might regret.
When she does break her long stare, her eyes land on the familiar round shades that happen to be in arm’s reach, and she grabs them and pulls them over her face without a second thought.
Without permission, her mind wanders off to wonder what would’ve happened between them had they gone on that date all those months ago before they graduated.
It’s harder to make out her face with his oversized sunglasses covering her eyes, but Satoru can see her lips tug into a frown.  He’s about to ask her what’s on her mind when she speaks first.
“Would you stay the night?” 
Her fingers are wound into the soft fabric of her covers, fisting it tightly as though it kept her anchored.
“Shoko’s in your spare room already,” He chuckles as he reminds her.  “And she’s hogging the whole bed.  I think if I wake her up she’ll mur-” 
“You can stay in here,” She’s mumbling, half incoherently, but he hears her just fine.  “Like… before” She adds as an afterthought.
He can’t deny the way his heart lurches in his chest at the offer, and the reminder.  The nights he spent sneaking into her dorm to coax her into at least a few hours of sleep, until she’d learned again how to sleep through a night on her own, he’d hold onto forever.  He’d sworn to commit them to memory.  The way she’d melt into his arms, as though she’d only know comfort and solace when embraced by them.  The way she felt against him, against his chest, with her legs wrapped around his, with her face in the crook of his neck, with her hands gripping onto his shirt for dear life, with her heart beating against his.  Satoru had overindulged himself back then, he’d gotten too much of a taste of what domesticity with her could feel like.  Now he craved it, he desperately yearned for it.
The last time they’d even slept in the same room had been the night before their meeting with the Zen’in Clan.  And she’d been far from him, curled up on the floor with that damned letter in her hands.  Satoru wondered now if she still had it.  He wondered if she still slept clutching onto something.  He wondered if she was able to sleep soundly without him now.
He’s sure that he shouldn’t dip even a finger back into this addiction.  He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stand it when she inevitably tells him this is the last time, and pushes him away, again.  
Just like she had done when he’d tried to make them something more.
It’s just one assignment, sweetheart, he’d told her over the phone, knowing fully well that she was all done up on the other end, waiting for him to pick her up at their agreed upon time.  We’ll rain check, promise.
She’d taken in a shaky breath, he could hear it even through the phone, even with the downpour of rain in Yokohama.  He always wondered if she’d cried that day, over him, over the failed attempt at a date, over his failure at showing up for her.
I don’t think it’s a good idea, ‘toru, she’d spoken as evenly as she could, even though it made her voice quieter.
How ‘bout tomorrow, hm? You can pick the place this time, anywhere you want, s’on me- He’d tried to convince her before she could put an end to this thing before it’d even started- hell, they’d barely even had a chance, hadn’t they? 
But her mind had already been made up.  And with a breaking heart, she’d shut him down.
I don’t just mean tonight, she’d said.  I don’t think this is a good idea.
God, he should’ve just stood his ground to the higher ups like he usually did and made someone else take on this stupid assignment.  He wanted to blame them for ruining his one perfect chance with this girl, but at the end of the day, he’d let her decide.  He let her be the one to end it before it really began.
I just… I just need to think about the kids right now, she’d sighed through her words.  As far as excuses go, it wasn’t necessarily a bad one.  They need to come first to me and… and your future should come first to you, too.
He should’ve called bullshit.  He knows that now.  He shouldn't have sat there and agreed with her because he didn’t want them to fight.  Fuck.  He should’ve argued, even if it had meant fighting with her.  As long as it also meant he could’ve seen what she’d chosen to wear for their date, how she’d done her hair, her makeup, then it would’ve been worth it.
I know you’re favored far more over me, but we’ll both always have assignments, she’d explained it like he didn’t already know what this chapter of their lives would look like.  Then again, he’d sat there in silence and let her pour out reason after reason as to why they couldn’t do this.  
Satoru still wasn’t sure if it was him she was trying to convince that day.
And I… and I wouldn’t forgive myself if things didn’t… work… you know? She’d finished shakily, nervously.  For the kids’ sake, Satoru, she’d told him.  For your sake.  For my sake.
He’d agreed.  He’d stupidly agreed.  They never talked about it again after that phone call.  For the most part, nothing had changed.
Except that first time he’d seen her afterwards.  She had a hard time looking at him, and shifted her weight between her feet when he stood too close.  But over time they got back into the groove of their friendship.  He remained abundantly affectionate, and she remained oblivious to the less-than obvious advances.
It was a surprise to him now that she was blurring the lines between them- the lines she’d drawn.  Would it be reckless of him to indulge once more? Would it be painful in the morning when she shooed him away before anyone could know he stayed here, with her? 
Probably.
But what he says is, “Yeah, if you’re sure” 
He does manage to convince her into changing into the comfiest pair of pajamas she could find, so that when she woke it was one less discomfort added to the long list of grievances her hangover would have in store.  Somehow, he gets her to put on a change of clothes and brush her teeth before she’s crawling into her bed with a lazy smile.  It’s almost three in the morning at this point, but worrying about the time is far from Satoru’s mind as she settles into his side like it was still second nature.
Long after she’d dozed off tucked under his arm, he laid there awake, wondering how different things could have been, had he plucked up the courage to say no.  To say this will work, because we want it to work, because I want it to work, because I’ve wanted nothing but to be yours.
But tonight, the only one in this apartment with any guts is Megumi.  Only Megumi was strong enough to articulate how he felt with those special little words that were too heavy for Satoru’s tongue.
With bags under his eyes and sluggish muscles Satoru gets out of bed as soon as he awakes to make breakfast for the full house.  Megumi and Tsumiki are up first, eager for the breakfast buffet Satoru had managed to give them without the smoke alarm going off.  Shoko drags herself out to the kitchen not too long after, downing a full cup of water before bidding them good morning and snagging some of the potatoes before Tsumiki could dump them all on her plate.
Satoru and Shoko tell unflattering stories about (y/n) with great excitement for gossip to the kids while their missing caretaker slept in as late as possible.  Satoru had made sure to bring a cold face mask to her every fifteen minutes or so to keep her headache at bay and hopefully let her sleep as long as she could.  Once she awoke she was in for a world of hurt.  Each time Satoru left the kitchen to do this for her, Shoko turned to the kids with a knowing look and a snicker.
“They were in love in school you know,” She indulged in a more interesting piece of gossip during one of these times.
Tsumiki’s eyes widened as she grinned.  Megumi’s brows furrowed as he pressed his lips together tightly.
“He’d follow her around like a lost puppy, it was hilarious” Shoko shoved a forkful of carbs into her mouth with a fond smile at the memories of lovesick Satoru.
“He still does that” Megumi mumbles, staring down at the remainder of food on his plate.
Shoko beamed with her cheeks full, not at all surprised by the behavior, but endeared to know it hadn’t worn off in time.  Satoru had changed a lot in the last six months, although some might have a hard time noticing, those close to him could see the heaviness he carried on his shoulders with little mannerisms and micro expressions that even he might be convinced aren’t there.  To Shoko and (y/n), who knew the boy like the back of their hand, it was clear.
However she should’ve known that the feelings he’d held for (y/n) since they were fifteen weren’t the kind of feelings that could be worn away.
Satoru’s back in the kitchen attempting to make pancakes in the fun shapes that (y/n) does, desperate to impress everyone- mostly Megumi- but they come out a little more lumpy than hers do.  He complains about it the whole time.  Megumi and Shoko are indifferent.  Tsumiki reassures him that they’re delicious, like the sweetheart she was.
(y/n) joins them for a brief minute, dragging her feet, and a blanket, into the kitchen on a journey to get a big cup of ice water.  The plastic face mask that Satoru had just brought her was velcroed around her head, although loosely, as half of it stayed on her forehead and the other half slipped over one of her eyes.  She made no efforts to fix it.
Shoko’s giggling with great amusement at the state of her lightweight friend.  The blanket cape, the messy hair, the smeared mascara on her exposed eye, it was all too humorous.  She started to pull her phone out to take a picture, but knowing what she was up to, Satoru snatched the device and pocketed it discreetly.  He gave her a sour look, to which she rolled her eyes and went back to breakfast.
He’d fussed over her right away, asking what she was doing up, that he could’ve brought her anything she needed and that she should’ve just hollered.  The three at the table watch as he adjusts her mask for her, reattaching the velcro to fit her snugly, keeping the cool parts of the gel-filled plastic against her throbbing forehead.
Shoko cackles not-so-discreetly behind her hand when he asks her if she was alright for a fourth time.  After a solid minute of insisting that he’d get everything for her, she shuffles back to the comfort of her dark room.
Satoru is quick to fill a cup to the brim with ice and then water, and rather than walk the ten feet to her door, he teleports it to her.  Shoko rolls her eyes and shares a smile with Tsumiki.
“Yeah, nothing’s changed”
It takes a few hours for (y/n) to feel rejuvenated enough to take a shower and join the group lazing around the living room.  Shoko had stayed for the day, so Satoru insisted they take turns picking movies.  (y/n) appears like a woman brought back to life halfway through the second film.  Satoru and Shoko cheer for her revival as she plops on the couch between Tsumiki and Satoru.
“Can we give you your present now?” Tsumiki asks, to which (y/n) eagerly accepts, so she and her brother rush out of the room to retrieve it.
With the kids gone, Shoko can finally give her friends the interrogation she’d been dying to all morning.
“So, you still sleep together, huh?” She raises a curious eyebrow.
(y/n) sighs, dropping her head back against the couch cushion, still feeling too light headed for this conversation.  Satoru doesn’t say anything either, though (y/n) can’t tell if he’s avoiding the conversation, or just didn’t know how to explain himself.  It doesn’t matter, Shoko doesn’t have any more questions, and shortly after, the Fushiguro kids are running into the room again.
They each have a hand on the brightly colored gift bag as they hand it to her.  (y/n) beams at their excitement as she eyes all of the tissue paper they’d stuffed into the bag.
“You help with this?” She muses to Satoru, who shakes his head, looking just as curious as she was.
“We did it all ourselves!” Tsumiki said with a proud grin.
(y/n) pulls out wad after wad of tissue, placing them all on the coffee table as she digs for her gift.  When she finally does get to the bottom of the bag, her lips morph into an ‘o’ as she lifts the piece of art out from the bag.
Shoko’s eyes widen, and Satoru begins to laugh while (y/n) carefully holds the small clay sculpture in her hands.  It couldn’t have been bigger than her hand, but the details were made of delicate pieces of clay, and she worried that if she didn’t handle it with care, it could crumble at her touch.
It was two blades, intersecting to make a perfect X.  The handles sculpted and painted to look quite familiar.
“It’s your swords!” Tsumiki cheered, holding her hands to her face to contain her excitement.
“Wow, this is amazing,” (y/n) admired the sculpture further, taking note of every detail, from blade to hilt, it was a damn good replica.  “You both made this?” 
Tsumiki and Megumi each nodded.
“Tsumiki did the clay, I painted it” Megumi explained.
“We got extra credit in our art classes for it too!” 
Satoru’s laughter grew louder, and (y/n’s) eyes widened with realization as she looked back at the kids.
“You… you made this in school?” She asked, trying not to wince.  “Did you… get in trouble?” 
Sure, the piece was perfect, and their collaboration did deserve some bonus points, but had no administrator gotten upset that an eight and ten year old made a weapon for their art project? 
“I told our art teacher it was from an anime character” Megumi said sheepishly.  (y/n’s) posture relaxed with her relief.
“Smart call,” She chuckles, before setting it down and reaching out to them both to pull them into a hug.  “Thank you.  I love it.  I love that you made it together” 
She sets it on a shelf in the living room with a few other pieces of art and picture frames, making sure to have it be front and center.  Throughout the rest of the movie watching day, her eyes keep wandering to it, wanting to admire the thoughtful craft a little longer. _
Over the next few months, Megumi had been pouting a lot more often.
(y/n) wasn’t sure what it was.  She and Satoru would make his favorite meal for dinner, and he would eat it with a bored expression.  Even with a trip to the library, more practice with his Divine Dogs, extending his bed time for reading purposes only, the boy just seemed to be in a bitter rut.
At first she was worried for him, but Tsumiki had confirmed that nothing was happening at school, he wasn’t being picked on, and his grades, as always, were exceptional.  (y/n) didn’t know what that could possibly leave.
“I just don’t get it,” She huffed as she slumped down into the couch beside Satoru, who had been spending most of his free time at the apartment now.  Some nights he even stayed over, but he always took the guest room.
The night of (y/n’s) birthday had proven to be too much for him.  So when she offered him to stay the night, he made a beeline for the spare bed.  (y/n) never pushed him on it.  But sometimes when they parted ways in the hall, she’d stare at the back of his head, and wonder if he could tell that she’d rather he stayed with her.
Satoru is also caved into the couch cushions, legs spread out wide before him and his arms crossed over his chest.  He looked tired.  He’d spent the whole evening giving Megumi tips and tricks to summoning and befriending his shikigami, hoping to lift the boy’s mood, and maybe score some brownie points, but to no avail.  The boy seemed to have more of an attitude with him than usual, and Satoru wasn’t the best with kids, so he’d given up, and pushed the responsibility back onto (y/n).  Megumi had less of an attitude with her, but his annoyance was still noticeable.
“Do you think we did something?” She mumbles, turning to Satoru with wide, worried eyes, and pinched brows.  Then, she scoots closer to him, until they’re sharing one of the cushions.  He doesn’t flinch at her closeness, unless you count the small hitch in his breath.  “Do you think I did something?” She rephrases her question in an even more haunted whisper.
“No, no of course not,” He shakes his head at her, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.  “He’s a kid.  Kids are just jerks sometimes” 
“He is not a jerk,” (y/n) says with narrowed eyes.  Satoru shrugs back at her, tilting his lips into a smirk.  “But… he is a kid.  I guess he could just be… acting out” 
“I acted out all the time when I was his age” Satoru nods as he starts to understand some of Megumi’s behavior.
(y/n) rolled her eyes at him.
“You still act out,” She says, and he wants to act offended when he turns to her again, but it’s too cute when she’s pretending to be annoyed with him, so he finds himself smiling at her, almost proudly.  “You’re the jerk, you know” 
“Me?” He holds a hand over his chest, and she giggles quietly to herself at the act.  “You break my heart, Little Hex” 
Again she rolls her eyes as she leans her head back into the couch cushion, letting out her frustration and exhaustion from the day in a quiet sigh.  It had been a while since Satoru had called her that, a nickname he’d coined back in high school.  She could still remember the first time he called her that, with that saccharine smile and shining eyes, like he was waiting for a reaction.  Boy, did he get one.  Somehow with his predictable flirtations, he still managed to make her blush and fluster.  Even now, she felt her face warm at the fond nickname.
“You’ll get over it, Gojo,” She muses in response, letting her eyes fall shut.  “Hey…” She starts to speak again, but trails off, and her eyes are still closed when he looks over at her to give her his attention.
“Hm?” 
“Do you think… he misses his dad?” 
The question hangs between them for a minute.  (y/n) gnaws on her cheek as her eyes glaze over, getting lost in her messy trains of thoughts that were all beginning to collide.  It was no secret that Megumi held a resentment towards his father, more so than his sister, but (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if a part of him, the part that was growing up, was starting to feel hurt by the space Fushiguro Toji had left behind.
“He might,” Satoru answers honestly, quietly.  (y/n’s) brows fall as her lips tug into a frown.  Of all the things she could fix, all the questions she could answer, that was one thing she had no control over.  “It’s probably complicated.  He might not think he does, you know?”
(y/n) nods absentmindedly, her teeth digging into her bottom lip now as she worries for the young boy.  
What was she supposed to do? All the love and support in the world wouldn’t make up for the man that was supposed to look out for them walking out.  His mother was one thing, he couldn’t even remember her.  But he had a face to his father’s name.  He had memories.  Maybe even love that he’d buried.  The thought makes her stomach twist with guilt.
“I barely remember my parents,” She whispers, and despite the fact that she’s staring at the ceiling with a hardened, fixed gaze, Satoru turns to her when she says this.  “They’re not gone… but they may as well be.  After I was enrolled at Jujutsu Tech…” 
She didn’t need to explain any further.  Satoru already knew the heartbreak she’d gone through as a young child, having non-sorcerers for parents that looked down upon jujutsu society.  She’d shared her story with him once, when they were no older than fifteen, and Satoru was certain he’d never shake a single detail out of his memory.  She held the same look in her eye now that she did back then as she recalled how she’d been shunned for not following a more ‘honorable’ path.
It wasn’t often she thought of her family- she hardly considered those people family anyways- but now they cross her mind as she empathizes with Megumi.
“It’s not the same, I know,” She sighs, shaking her head as though to erase their faces like an etch-a-sketch.  Even after all these years, she hasn’t quite forgotten them.  “But… losing family at a young age sticks with you,” 
Finally, she turns her head to one side, meeting his watchful stare.
“Whether you want it to or not” 
Satoru frowned.
“Missing people is hard like that,” He sighs.
Neither one of them have the strength to talk about him though, so he glides over the topic and brings their focus back to Megumi.
“But he’s still a little kid.  You give him a lot of credit for being so mature, it’s spooky, but he’s going to process things like a little kid,” He reminds her.  “You’re not doing anything wrong.  Neither is he.  He’s just…” 
“Processing” (y/n) mumbles softly.
He nods back at her, bringing his elbow to the top of the couch so he could prop his head in his hand.
“Have you ever…” Satoru trails off, deciding mid sentence if it was a good idea to ask her this question.  She waits patiently for him to continue, in need of any kind of advice on the situation.  “Have you ever thought about opening up to him? You know like… relating to him?”
She blinks, but the rest of her expression doesn’t change.  Not a single movement.  Satoru thinks he might have suggested the wrong thing, but before he can take it back, she gives him a small smile.
“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea,” She hums, and she can see he’s shocked that she thought so.  “You’re almost getting decent at this parenting thing” 
He chuckles, dropping his hand from his head to stretch his arm across the length of the couch, beckoning her to come closer.  She huffs in defiance, but doesn’t have any further protest as she slides closer to him, until their legs are pressed together and her head leans into his shoulder.
“I’m learning from the best” He chuckles like it’s a tease, but his words couldn’t have been more genuine.
It took some time for (y/n) to approach the subject with the boy.
But it was one night while they were walking home late together that just felt like the right time.  It was just the two of them, (y/n) had brought him to a secluded place in the woods they found where it was safe for him to practice summoning his shikigami, while Satoru stayed at the apartment with Tsumiki.
It was late, the sun had gone down an hour ago, and the streets had cleared enough to give them a bit of privacy as they made their way back to the apartment.
So she figured, here goes nothing.
“Has something been bothering you, Megumi?” 
At first he drops his head, staring down at the sidewalk as he mulled over the question.  If (y/n) focused enough, she could see the gears in his head turning, weighing his options, the pros and cons, thinking through the possibilities of where this conversation could go.  Had she not been worried about him, she might have giggled at how cutely the eight year old processed any question asked of him.
“You don’t need me to remind you that you can tell me anything,” She tells him honestly, glancing up at the stars beginning to shine through the night sky.  “You’re allowed to be upset about things, you know” 
“I know” He finally mumbles out, kicking a stray pebble in his path. 
On uneven edges, it rolls awkwardly onto (y/n’s) side of the path.  She gently kicks it back to his side.  They play this little game in silence for a few minutes, until Megumi kicks it with too much enthusiasm and it’s sent into the storm drain.  Teasingly, (y/n) tells him she’s won.
“I feel bad for being upset” 
She looks down at him upon this confession, tilting her head curiously, wondering what it could be that he’s been carrying that’s making him feel so lost.
“That happens sometimes,” She treads lightly.  “As long as you know that you shouldn’t.  You can’t help what you feel, you know” 
Megumi sighs, his shoulders slumping forward with a restlessness he was far too young to feel.
“I guess,” He replies, because he knows she’s right.  Still, it was hard to be comforted when there was a loom of guilt hanging over his head like a storm cloud.  “I don’t think I like love” 
(y/n) hums as she takes in the statement.  It was heavier than he’d realized, and it took her a minute to really think about it, about what he must be feeling.  She had a sneaking suspicion that this was about his father, after all.
“Love is complicated, isn’t it,” She sighs, and it’s not a question, moreso a statement of fact.  Megumi doesn’t say anything.  “The world will tell you it’s unconditional.  When in fact… people don’t work like that, do they?” 
He looks up at her, his eyes round with shock, like she’d told him a great secret that he shouldn’t have been allowed to hear.  Santa isn’t real, or this is all a simulation.
“Individual people are so different, and they’re meant to be, aren’t they?” This time she waits for his response, but Megumi can only muster up a nod.  She takes it.  “Everyone has their standards, their conditions.  Even you, right?” 
“I don’t like it when people are mean for no reason” Megumi comments, and (y/n) smiles as she nods at him, affirming that he understood what she was saying.
“Exactly,” She muses.  “It’s just… some people’s conditions… well, they’re unreachable.  Impossible.  Sometimes they’re outright dumb” 
Honestly, Megumi’s not sure where this little rant is coming from, but he finds himself hanging onto her every word anyways.  It intrigued him, the way she described love.  He’d never heard someone speak about it with such… distaste.
Usually adults tried to tell him that love is the ultimate happiness.  Romantic love, familial love, platonic love, whatever it may be.  He was always reminded that love was powerful, beautiful, transcendent.  To hear (y/n) speak of it now like it was a trick to be wary of was confusing to him, but he was intent on learning more.
“I’ve never talked to you about my family, have I?” She asks, and again, it’s less of a question, and more of a prompt, a catch for him to realize that no, she’d never mentioned anything about a family.  She only ever spoke of her classmates and colleagues at Jujutsu Tech.
Megumi shakes his head, feeling his guilt hovering over his head again as he realizes he’d never even thought to ask about the subject.
“Well, there’s a reason,” (y/n) says, easing some of his anxiety.  “They had conditions to their love.  Ones that I couldn’t meet.  Or, refused to, is more like it” 
“Really?” Megumi’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Yep,” She affirmed.  “They didn’t want me to be a jujutsu sorcerer” 
Now he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.  His mouth dropped open and his eyes grew impossibly bigger.
“Why?” 
“They weren’t gifted like you and me,” She explains.  “They were non-sorcerers, had never even heard of jujutsu society.  So you can imagine their surprise when their kid started teleporting all around the house.  I was a handful, you know,” 
Megumi lets out a little giggle at the idea, and (y/n) smiles warmly that he’s starting to break down the walls he’d been building up around him in his seclusion.  
“I was no older than you when my cursed technique manifested,” She tells him.  “And it wasn’t long until someone from the school found me” 
“Just like you came to us?” Megumi asked.
(y/n) tilted her head from side to side.
“It was a bit different,” She admitted.  “They wanted to enroll me at the school, train me to properly hone my technique, teach me about the real world of jujutsu, it was a big ask.  A big change” 
“But your parents didn’t want you to go?” Megumi’s brows furrowed.
(y/n) nodded down at him.
“They forbid it” 
The boy shook his head, trying to understand, but he was struggling, too puzzled by this story.
“But, why?” He asked.  “Jujutsu sorcerers are good! You have cool powers- that- that can help people,” He looked up at her with his face contorted by his confusion.  “Why didn’t they understand?” 
(y/n) gives him a sad smile.  She’d asked herself that same question for years after she’d left her home in pursuit of something greater than it, greater than her.
She looks forward as they continue their walk, not too far from the apartment building now.
“They were so worried about losing their kid, that they didn’t think about the damage they’d do by keeping them from following their passion,” She told him the truth, as harsh as it sounded.  “And they ended up losing me anyways” 
It’s quiet for a few beats, until Megumi let out a soft, “Oh” 
“Megumi,” (y/n) calls, reaching down for his hand.  
He lets her grasp onto it.  They stop in their tracks, and he turns to face her.  She still has that small, sad smile on her face.  He recognizes this smile.  She wears it when she’s trying to make him feel better, when she’s trying to convince someone, or herself, that things are alright.  He’s seen this smile so many times now that he wishes she would just frown, but he knows she won’t.  He knows that until the day she leaves this earth she’s going to be the strong one, the one that protects them, no matter the cost.  He’d learned this shortly after meeting her, but he didn’t come to really understand it until the day he was almost taken away from her, and from his sister.
Megumi is a child.  And while (y/n) had grown older in age, and quite a bit in maturity, she really wasn’t that much older than him, in the grand scheme of things.  She’d given up more than just a summer vacation after graduating in order to take in him and his sister.  She’d never talk about it, but Megumi has picked up on the fact that if she wasn’t so busy playing caretaker, then she would have been able to pursue more of her real passion, exorcizing curses.  Sure, she still took plenty of assignments, but it was hard to take the big ones overseas, or the higher grade curses, because she couldn’t leave the two of them alone for too long.
(y/n) crouches before him now, his hand still in hers, and that melancholic smile still present on her lips.
“I believe that your dad loved you, so, so much,” 
His brows furrowed together.  My dad? He thought to himself, as if the words didn’t translate to his language, as if he couldn’t quite remember what they meant, or who they referred to.
“I believe that he did the things he did because he wanted to do what he could for you.  I know it doesn’t make sense now… and honestly it might never make sense.  But I think he was trying to do right by you both he just…” 
She trails off, and for a split second, that false smile falters, and falls into a sad expression that he’d rarely gotten to see on her.  Something snags in Megumi’s chest, an uneven beat of his heart, a pain in his ribs he wasn’t familiar with.
“He just didn’t know how,” She finishes softly, and just as quickly she’s crafting her face to be gentle and comforting again.  “But I’m sorry that he’s not here” 
Megumi tilts his head at her curiously, trying to speculate on what it was to make her say these things to him.
“That’s okay,” He says in a tone that has (y/n) feeling a bit confused too.  Her hand loosens around his, and he pulls away, about to continue their walk.  She quickly stands to walk beside him.  “I don’t really think about him anyways” 
“You don’t?” She asks.  Megumi shakes his head.
“No, he doesn’t really matter, does he?” 
Wow, (y/n) thinks.  What an emotionally mature child.  But if it wasn’t his absent-now-dead father bugging him, what had been on his mind?
“Hey (y/n),” Megumi calls before she can ask him her question, and she gives him her attention.  “What are your conditions?” 
“My conditions?” She repeats, although she knows what he means.
“Yeah” Megumi replies in a small voice.
“Silly kid,” She giggles and ruffles his hair, much to his annoyance, but he doesn’t swat her hand away, just glares at her as he fixes the messy raven locks.  “I’m the exception to the rule of course.  I have no conditions when it comes to loving you two” 
“Corny,” He mutters with fake malice.  “But what about Gojo, then?”
With a raised brow, (y/n) looks down at the boy, waiting for him to complete the question.  Megumi just stared up at her expectantly, his head cocked towards one shoulder.
“What about Gojo?” She repeats with a tilted inflection, wondering what he was getting at.
Megumi huffs with more annoyance than she could’ve thought his little body was capable of holding.
“Well, don’t you love each other?” He asks, exasperated, like he’d been holding onto this fact for too long, like it was heavy, and he was tired of lugging it around.  “Isn’t that why he’s around all the time? Isn’t that why he never leaves anymore?” 
(y/n’s) lips part in surprise, ready to say something, anything to deflect, or excuse, but she can’t think of a decent enough argument, and she finds herself remaining in silence as they approach their building.
“He’s so obnoxious,” Megumi continues, and (y/n) watches him with a strange curiosity as he goes on to speak.  “He’s loud.  And annoying.  And too touchy,” 
She chuckles fondly to herself, as she couldn’t help but agree with all of Megumi’s grievances with the man.  Of course these were all traits she’d found some way to appreciate.  
He was loud, but he spoke up for others, and had he not done so on her behalf, she might not be here with Megumi now.  He was annoying, but he made it known that he enjoyed spending time around her, and he’d remember all of the things she said she liked or disliked.  He was touchy, but it was just the way he showed affection, every touch, whether it be to hug her goodbye, to pull her to sit closer to him, to comb her hair with his fingers so she could fall asleep peacefully, it all just meant that he cared.
Thinking about it now, her face began to heat up, and her heart began to beat erratically in her chest.  Had Megumi figured it out for her? Had she really grown to love all of those things?
“He doesn’t ever stop talking about you,” Megumi goes on, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to his rant.  “Especially when you’re not around.  He just goes on and on.  About high school, about how cool you are, how pretty you are, how strong you are,” 
Despite his irritation, Megumi’s cheeks begin to burn too, a little embarrassed to be passing this information on.
“And when he makes my lunches, even his notes are about you.  And they’re stupid.  But he’s stupid,” He rolls his eyes between complaints.
(y/n) thinks back to the little post-it she’d snagged from his lunch box a few months ago.  There had been others? She was curious now about what they said.  Did he do it every time he made their lunch?
“And Shoko said you were in love once,” 
Her attention returns to the boy again, eyes round and lips still parted, still waiting to say something that wasn’t coming to mind.  Shoko said that? 
“Are you not anymore?” 
He looks up at her just as they approach the front doors to their building.  (y/n) swallows the lump in her throat as she pushes it open, letting him inside first.  The warm air in the lobby is welcoming, and she pops open the buttons to the light jacket she’d worn to help keep warm during the chilly fall night.
Megumi was still staring at her as they made their way through the lobby to wait for the elevator.  She knows he was expecting an answer, a real one, but truth be told, (y/n) wasn’t sure what the answer even was.
“We were young,” She sighs out eventually, shaking her head as she struggles to come up with the rest.  “Did we have feelings for each other? Maybe, but I don’t know about love.  We were close friends.  Still are” 
She thinks this is a good answer.  It’s the truth, and it’s enough of an explanation to quell Megumi’s curiosities.  She thought wrong.
“Well, what about now?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets.
“You’re nosey tonight,” (y/n) chuckles, trying to nonchalantly brush him off and leave their conversation at that.  But Megumi continues to stare at her with furrowed brows.  “What?” She laughs nervously at him, raising her hands in mock defense.  “What more is there to say?”
“Shoko said you were in love,” He deadpans, and (y/n) makes a mental note to cuss out her friend for gossiping with literal children about her love life- or more accurately, lack thereof.  “So what was the condition that you don’t anymore?” 
“I never said I didn’t-” 
“So you do?”
They stare at each other in silence.
There’s a ding! And the elevator doors before them slide open.
(y/n) ushers Megumi in without a word, and he excitedly pushes the button for their floor.  (y/n) crosses her arms as the doors close again.  Her foot taps anxiously on the floor.
“Is this why you’ve been upset lately?” She finally speaks as the elevator begins to move.  Megumi looks up at her, but her eyes remain focused on the changing numbers on the panel as they pass each floor.  “Satoru’s been around more and you don’t like him?” 
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him,” Megumi mutters, annoyed at having to admit such a thing.  (y/n) lets out a small chuckle.  “He’s just annoying.  I don’t know why you do,” He explains.  “You’re cooler than him” He adds in a smaller, more bashful voice.
“Can’t argue there,” (y/n) hums in amusement, smiling down at him fondly.  “But you don’t have anything to worry about, ‘gumi,” She says, and seeing as he’s trapped in the small space, when she reaches down and snatches him up with the excitement of finding a stray toad on her path- he can’t do anything but squeal and thrash his arms in protest.  “You’re the only one for me, Fushiguro Megumi!” She cheers in a loud, lovesick manner.
The elevator doors open, allowing anyone on their floor to hear the boy’s screams of torture and giggles of delight when (y/n) tosses him over her shoulder to tickle him relentlessly.
“(y/n)!” He screams her name in choked up pleas of mercy.  “Stoooop!” 
His hollers fell on deaf ears as (y/n) cackled the whole way to the door.  She didn’t let up until she had to fish for the keys in her pocket.  Megumi huffed, hanging limply over her back, panting as he caught his breath, his laughter finally dying down.
“You’re a jerk” He muttered in defeat.
(y/n) cackled as she got the door open, and Megumi’s body was practically swinging behind her back as she hauled him inside.
Much to the delight of Satoru and Tsumiki, who had been sitting at the kitchen table, having a little spa day.
So while they were laughing at Megumi’s distress, (y/n) was laughing at the sight of Satoru with a big fluffy pink headband, the one Tsumiki used for the couple of times that (y/n) would let her do face masks with her.
His hair stuck out in every direction under the big bow on top, and there was a green substance smeared all over his face that (y/n) could only hope was from the rejuvenating face mask tube that she kept with her things in the bathroom.  And better than that- Tsumiki was halfway through painting his names.  He had one hand flat on the table, the polish still drying, while the ten year old held his other hand to carefully apply the color.
“Oh my god,” (y/n) couldn’t help the string of giggles that escaped her, and she finally set Megumi back on the ground so that he could also appreaciate the entertainment.  “You girls have a nice day to yourselves?” 
“Yeah!” Tsumiki cheered.  “We watched a romance anime and Gojo’s letting me paint his nails and we were talking about boys and we’re doing face masks!” 
(y/n’s) still laughing as she kicks off her shoes, before neatly setting them on the small rack by the door with the other smaller pairs of shoes.  She shrugs off her coat and drapes it over the couch before making her way further into the room so she could see what color Tsumiki had chosen for Satoru’s manicure.
“She said we were doing facemasks,” Satoru deadpans as (y/n) peers over the girl’s shoulder.  “But she chickened out” 
“Did not!” Tsumiki argued.  “I just only have one headband.  I didn’t want to get any in my hair” 
(y/n) continues to giggle when she finally gets a look at Satoru’s hands.  Tsumiki had all of her polishes on the table, so each finger was a different color.  Mostly variations of pink and purple, but there was one green and one blue in there too.  When she meets his gaze, he’s silently pleading with her, but her mouth twists into a grin that tells him she was not here to bring him to a merciful end.
“Very good job you’ve done here, Tsumiki,” She praises the girl instead.  “Satoru has never looked prettier!” 
He should’ve rolled his eyes and quipped back some sarcastic remark, but Tsumiki was finally painting his last fingernail and it would all be over soon.  So instead he grins from ear to ear, taking her half-insult as a compliment.
“Why thank you, (y/n/n).  Finally, I’m appreciated for my beauty” 
(y/n’s) the one who rolls her eyes.
Once Tsumiki applies the last stroke of glittery pink polish on Satoru’s pinky nail, (y/n) tasks her with cleaning up the mess on the table.  It appears she’d been ready to give the man a full makeover, looking at all the makeup, nail polish, and hair supplies littered over the surface.
“Come on pretty girl, I’ll get the mask cleaned off your face,” (y/n) beckons for Satoru to follow her towards the bathroom.  “We can’t have you ruining your pretty manicure” She snickers as the pair disappear down the hall.
Megumi helped his sister gather her things back into the boxes she kept them neatly organized in.
“How did it go with your dogs?” She asked curiously.
“Good,” He answers.  “(y/n) is in love with Gojo” 
His sister stares back at him with wide eyes, and a slow grin creeping over her face.
Meanwhile, (y/n) is sitting Satoru down on the lid of the toilet while the sink water runs until it’s warm enough that it won’t be a shock to his skin.  Once it’s ready, she wets a corner of a washcloth and carefully begins to wipe off the creamy face mask.
“I can’t believe you let her do this” She murmurs, bringing the rag back under the running water to rinse away the excess paste.
“(y/n), as a dear friend, I need you to be honest with me,” He says, and her eyes lock on his, her hand stalling in it’s ministrations, holding the rag to his brow as she gives him her undivided attention.  His expression looks grave.  “Is this going to absolutely fuck up my pores?” 
His eyes are wide like he’s never been more afraid of anything in his life, and (y/n) can’t help but burst into laughter as she goes back to cleaning away the cream on his forehead.
“Well, it shouldn’t,” She says, and Satoru visibly relaxes.  “But I don’t know what she was thinking putting so much on your face” 
“Maybe she just wanted to be close because I’m so devilishly handsome” He smirks up at her, and she lets out another laugh, turning back to the sink again to rinse the rag.
“I think she just wanted to play dress up with you” (y/n) mused.
“I think she just wanted to have girl talk,” Satoru replied.  “Which apparently I’m quite good at.  If you’re ever interested” 
Another giggle escapes her as she gets to work cleaning away the cream on his cheek, being careful as she drags the rag slowly under his eye.  She’s focused on her work, but Satoru can’t draw his attention away from her.  He couldn’t remember the last time she stood so close to him, and right now her face hovered just a few inches away from his.
It was hard to keep his hands firmly planted on his knees, and not hold her by the waist and draw her into the space between them.  But then he’d ruin his manicure.
“I didn’t realize she was getting so interested in boys,” She hums thoughtfully.  “Any juicy details?” 
“Not really,” Satoru shrugs.  “I told her to start playing hard to get if she really wants to get someone’s attention.  She said she didn’t want their attention.  She just likes making friends with the cute boys in her class” 
(y/n) laughs softly and shakes her head, but she can’t help but smile proudly to herself.
“That’s my girl,” She praises, even though Tsumiki wasn’t present.  “She doesn’t need boys right now.  She’s doing great in her classes” 
Satoru shrugs a shoulder.
“You enjoy girl talk, hm?” She asks.
Admittedly, she could have cleaned his face of all this face mask cream by now, but she couldn’t help her slow movements.  The longer she dragged this on, the longer she could stand right in front of him and stare at his pretty features.  Her conversation with Megumi was still on the front of her mind, and while she’d brushed off the boy’s questions about her feelings minutes ago, standing before Satoru now, she wasn’t so sure she could deny them.
She’d known for a long time that she harbored strong feelings for him.  While at first she’d squashed them down because she refused to admit she’d fallen for an arrogant fool like him, over time, she’d come to understand him better, and soon he’d become one of the greatest people she’s ever known, and she wasn’t so sure she’d ever meet anyone like him again.
But things got messy. She got involved with the Fushiguro’s, [redacted] defected, and now that they’ve graduated and are trying to lead their own lives, it just got too complicated.
It didn’t help that when he’d tried to take things to a more than platonic level, she’d shot it down as soon as things got tricky.  As soon as he got called into an assignment the night they were going to go out, she’d closed herself back up, rebuilt the wall around her, and told him it was never going to work, so they may as well never try.
She’d done the right thing, right? 
Trying not to stare too long at him now, she wasn’t so sure.
“Oh, I quite love girl talk,” Satoru grinned.  “No wonder you and Shoko always snuck off.  Hey, you ever talk about me?” His grin turns into a smirk as his bright eyes try to catch hers.  She pretends to be too focused on clearing the green goop off his nose.
“Only when I needed to complain,” She muses affectionately.  “I’m sorry to say most of our gossip involved Ijichi” 
“That kid that’s a manager?” He asked with a furrowed brow.  “That’s your type?” 
He sounded annoyed, and confused.  (y/n) chuckled, turning back towards the sink for another rinse.
“No,” She shakes her head, and Satoru readjusts his posture, sitting up a little straighter with his confidence returned.  “But he was always smitten with Shoko.  I think eventually he was so into her she couldn’t help but take an interest in him, too,” 
Satoru nods, pursing his lips as he thinks back on it.  There were a few times that she’d blown off plans to twirl her hair at the younger boy.  He’d always thought she was just messing with him, now he wonders if anything ever came of it.
“I think they hooked up a couple times,” (y/n) indulged in a quieter voice, her eyes meeting his with a curious excitement he hadn’t seen in a while.  “She never admitted it.  But I’ve seen the hickeys.  That’s all I’m saying” 
Satoru laughed with delight.  He really did enjoy girl talk.  He also enjoyed seeing (y/n) this happy.
“Well geez.  I guess I’ll have to hit her up on that.  What’s she got on you, huh?” 
Her brows pinched together as a scoff of a laugh escapes her, her lips stretching into an awkward smile.  Her eyes meet his and they’re prodding, eager to hear more of this juicy content.
(y/n) shakes her head as more nervous laughter bubbles up.
“Afraid you’ll be rather bored, ‘toru” She hummed, going back to scrubbing the cream off of his other cheek.
“What, no time for boys?” He leans forward, making her stall in her movements, and bringing her gaze back to his.  Her eyes flicker between his for a moment, trying to figure out why he was asking this of her now.  He knows the answer to this question.  Why was he even asking it?  
Her head tilts at him in a small movement as she thinks through her answer, her eyes never leaving his.
“That’s private” She murmurs, just to gauge his reaction.
It was a pleasant one indeed.  Only because she got an up close look was she able to see the twitch in his brow, the slow locking of his jaw before quickly relaxing it.  So the notion that she did have something to tell bothered him.  Interesting.
“So you have a little time for boys, then?” He asks, and the grin that stretches on his lips is anything but eager.  It’s counterfeit.  And almost poisonous.
“Why the sudden interest?” She hums, straightening her posture and going back to cleaning his face.
“Why the sudden need for privacy?” He asks, leaning forward again, seeing as she’d tried to put a few inches of distance between them.  Her eyes briefly catch his, but she’s quick to return her focus.  “I thought we said no more secrets” 
A humorless laugh escapes her throat as she shakes her head at him.
“Satoru, how many times are you going to assume I’m hooking up with someone when I’m not?” She asks, only half-teasing.
“Hey, that’s not all on me, you were the one sneaking around in the middle of the night! A bootycall was the only logical answer” 
“Except it wasn’t, and it isn’t” (y/n) reminds him.
“I’m still not totally convinced” He grumbles, rolling his eyes away from hers as he mulled over the scraps of evidence in his head.
“I can’t tell if you’re being nosey or completely jealous” She muses.
“Can’t a guy be more than one thing?” His eyes are on hers again in an instant as he grins up at her, this time with his usual charm that he tried to pull.
“Sure you can,” She grins back at him.  “And you’re predictable” 
His grin falls, but not completely.  His lips are still curled into a soft smile as he stares up at her.  It’s quiet for a moment, and there’s still some green mask left on his chin, but it’s momentarily forgotten as she gets lost in his stare.
She supposes she’d get jealous, too, if he started talking about seeing someone else.  Someone else, she thinks to herself, a small crease forming between her brows.  And that wasn’t fair of her to think, was it? He wasn’t hers, she’d made sure of that herself.  But fuck, if the idea didn’t make something nasty twist in her gut.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” She blurts out, as if it wasn’t already clear to him that this was the case.  “If that’s what you’re getting at.  I don’t know why, you know I-” 
She stops herself before something she doesn’t want to say out loud.  He tilts his chin at her, curious to hear the rest of what she was going to say, but judging by the way she presses her lips together in a small smile, he gets the feeling that she’s swallowed her words.
Silently, she wipes the last patch of green cream off of his chin, and turns around to rinse the wash cloth thoroughly.  After working out all of the mask from the cloth, she rings it out and drapes it over one of the towel bars to properly dry.  When she turns back to Satoru, he’s raising his hands to pull the headband off.
“Wait,” Her voice is soft but it still stops him as she reaches out towards him.  “I’ll get it,” She tells him as she loops her fingers through the fluffy band.  “I was serious about not messing up your nails” 
A small giggle escapes her as she slides the headband off, letting his hair fall around his ears and over his forehead.
“I appreciate that you care about my manicure” He half-teases.
Absent-mindedly, she brings her fingers bag to his hair, sweeping a few loose strands away from his eyes.  She doesn’t even realize what she’s done until her eyes meet his, and suddenly she’s retracting her hand and staring back at him with wide eyes.
“I- sorry-” 
“Don’t be,” Satoru smiles at her as he stands from the seat, stretching his tired limbs after sitting there for the last fifteen or so minutes.  “You want help making dinner tonight?” 
Just like that he’s strolling out of the bathroom with her in tow, telling her all of the ideas of things he wants to learn to cook.  A lot of his list is baked sweets, but she listens to him ramble on anyways.  It’s a good distraction for her to calm her racing heart. _
It’s a horrendously chilly day in december when paths cross that (y/n) would have never expected.
She, Satoru, Shoko, and the Fushiguro kids had been out for the day.  It had started with a breakfast that they’d tried to make happen weekly, but had quickly turned into strolling around the shops in Tokyo so the kids could make their christmas wish lists.  This of course was more or less a grocery list of things that Satoru was bound to buy as soon as he received this list, but it was fun for everyone nonetheless.
They’d just walked out of a pet shop, despite (y/n) making it clear that there would be no pets for christmas, claiming Megumi’s dogs were enough.  She was reminding Tsumiki- and Satoru- of that fact as they walked out.
“What do you need a hamster for? Isn’t Megumi feisty enough?” She’d laughed as she’d pulled her hat over her head to keep her ears safe from the nippy cold breeze.  Megumi gives his sister a wide grin, maybe out of pride, even.
“Because they’re so small and cute and fluffy-” 
“Not helping, Satoru,” She swatted at his arm to stop him from getting Tsumiki’s hopes up, before turning her attention to the girl.  “We’re not getting a hamster” 
Just as Tsumiki’s pouty face was almost starting to work, (y/n) catches sight of an old familiar face, and her attention is quickly ripped away from the present as a beam stretches over her mouth.
“Nanami!” 
He’s across the street, so she has to jog to get to him and catch his attention, leaving everyone else without much more of an explanation.
“Been awhile since I’ve seen Nanamin,” Shoko’s the first to speak, as the rest of them are staring at (y/n) as she catches up with the blonde man.  Megumi and Tsumiki watch on with surprise, and a little confusion.  While Satoru’s eyes narrow into a glare behind his shades.  “He looks… good” 
This turned his glare towards the woman, who pursed her lips and shrugged a shoulder.  “What?” She asked innocently.  “The haircut suits him” 
When Nanami Kento finally hears his name and sees (y/n) making her way to him, he lights up.  Recognition turns to delight as she approaches him, and when her arms open wide, he steps closer so that she can throw them around his neck and hug him like he was an old friend, and not just a past acquaintance that had shared trauma.
“Don’t remember them being so close” Satoru huffs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat so that no one could see the way they ball into tight fists.
Hearing the odd seriousness in the usually overly-cheery man’s tone had Megumi looking up at Satoru out of curiosity.  He wore a grimace, even with the shades covering his face, it was perfectly clear.  When the boy glanced back towards where (y/n) was animatedly talking with the man he sort of recognized, an idea brewed in his head.
Tugging on the puffy sleeve of Tsumiki’s coat, Megumi gave her a look, making her follow his line of sight from Satoru’s evil eye, to where (y/n) and her supposed friend from high school were reconnecting.  Tsumiki looked back and forth a few more times, noting how Gojo’s brow furrowed particularly harder as (y/n) grabbed the man’s arm and began to lead him back towards them.
As Nanami and (y/n) grow nearer, Satoru does his best to relax his features, but with the way she’s talking to him so enthusiastically, smiling and gesturing with her hands, he can’t help but have some intrigue.
Questions like when the hell did they get so buddy-buddy? And since when did Nanamin know how to smile? Flooded his mind.  He was dying to know what it was that you were talking about that had you both looking so… engaged.
“Your jealousy’s showing,” Shoko snickered, knocking her elbow into Satoru’s.  He sent her a half-playful scowl, which only made her grin in amusement.  “And here I thought you grew out of that?” She teased.
Meanwhile, and as oblivious as ever, (y/n) had been filling Nanami in on all of the excitement she’d endured since graduating.  He congratulated her, and asked all of the appropriate questions about the kids and the beginning of her career as a jujutsu sorcerer.
“You have to come properly meet the kids,” She’d told him, gesturing back to where the oddball looking group stood outside of the pet shop.  
Nanami glanced over, briefly catching Gojo’s nasty gaze before he smoothed it out into something more friendly.  It didn’t look remotely authentic, but it didn’t help that Shoko was cackling and knocking her arm against his, as though calling him out for his behavior.  He supposed some things would never change.
(y/n) was linking her arm through his and walking with him back towards everyone before Nanami could find a way to politely decline the offer.  It was nothing against the Fushiguro kids, (y/n) made them out to be pleasant little angels, but he had a feeling that Gojo wouldn’t be too keen on her inviting him over.  Especially not arm in arm.
“So you and Six Eyes finally made it work, huh?” The blonde asked, semi bitterly, semi curiously.
(y/n) ducked her head to hide the blush dusting over her cheeks.  Although she supposed it was cold enough outside she could play it off as a chill, she had a feeling Nanami would see through the lie.
“Uh, not exactly.  I mean- not like you mean, anyways.  He helps with the kids a lot” She stammers over her explanation, not knowing the proper way to define their relationship.  Friend seemed too informal and broad to describe what they shared.  Partner was… well, there was a certain connotation there, wasn’t there? Rather than try to find a label for it, she decides instead to shut her mouth.  
Nanami chuckled.
Some things really would never change.
“Still got him to settle down though, hm?” Nanami hums, watching as Gojo ruffles up the hair of the little boy, who then proceeds to turn around and growl at him, smacking at his hand.
This was (y/n’s) little angel? Nanami wondered as the two began to bicker like they were both children.  He couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but from what he could see, he had a feeling the boy was in the right.
“So he’s… good with the kids?” Nanami asks, and the pair watch as Satoru’s solution to end the bickering was to lift up the kid by his ankle, dangling him in the air.
(y/n’s) eyes momentarily widen, and she jolts as if she’s going to run at the two- probably to scold Satoru and cradle Megumi in her arms like he was younger than he was- but she just as quickly relaxes as Satoru plops the boy on his shoulders.  Megumi is still scowling, but appears to relax and let's Satoru hold him by the ankles while he sits.  (y/n) makes a mental note to take a picture of them later when they’re not paying attention.
“Sometimes,” She finally answers Nanami’s question.  “Tsumiki loves him.  Megumi won’t admit it… but I know he likes him more than he lets on” 
“So you’ll raise kids together, but you won’t put a label on things?” Nanami chuckles.
She looks over at him with a half smile and a raised brow.
“You sure care a lot about my love life, Nanamin~” She points out.  “So what is it? You got a special someone that’s got love on your mind?” 
He laughs again, not because she’s right, but because it was so like her to deflect like her life depended on it.  She had gotten better at it since the last time he’d seen her, too.
When they do approach the rest of her group, Satoru’s line of sight is firmly set on the place where (y/n’s) elbow is hooked around Nanami’s, and it stays there while she introduces the kids to him.  He doesn’t look up, or even force a polite smile, until Shoko is stepping forward and making them split up as she hugs Nanami.
Then, and only once (y/n) stepped closer to Satoru, putting some distance between her and the ex-sorcerer, does he relax.  Megumi groans and kicks his feet out of Satoru’s hold, annoyed by the way he’d gripped his legs.  During the pleasant small talk (y/n) and Shoko makes with the man, Satoru remains silent.  Behind his shades his eyes are piercing and although Nanami can’t quite see it, he certainly feels it.  It’s a bit unsettling, but just like in high school, it was more irritating than anything else.  
Despite barely speaking to him, before the blonde man goes to part ways, Satoru scribbles something down on a receipt he’d found in his pocket, and passes it off to him.  Nanami’s surprised to see it’s a phone number.
“For if you ever want to get back out there,” Satoru said with a nod.  Nanami blinks as he stares at the Six Eyes user, and then back at the receipt.  “I’d get ya back on the field in a jiffy, no questions asked” He continued with a grin, before making a point to sling an arm over (y/n’s) shoulders.  She stumbles as he pulls her against his side, caught off guard by the sudden affection, but she relaxes just as quickly, and doesn’t appear upset by the action at all.
“Thanks” Nanami settles with a small nod of his head.  He doesn’t think he’d ever go back into the world of jujutsu sorcery, but the proposal was still a thoughtful one.  Especially so when he thought he’d been on the man’s shit list for merely talking to (y/n).
They say their goodbyes and part ways with a weak promise of brunch sometime.
Shoko is dragging Tsumiki into the next boutique, saying something about hair accessories that should be on her wish list.  Leaving (y/n) and Satoru to follow behind, with Megumi still perched on Satoru’s shoulders.
(y/n) tucks her hands into the pockets of her coat, stepping out from under his arm, but still walking closely by his side.
“You really think he’ll come back?” She asks after a beat passes, too curious about his thoughts to wait until another time to bring it up.
“I don’t know,” He answers honestly, shrugging his shoulders, although the movement is stiff and awkward with Megumi resting on them.  He giggles a bit at the movement.  “But he looked… bored, didn’t he?” 
When he looks down at her to gauge her reaction, she gives him a small nod.
“Figured a change of pace would be good for him” Satoru finished.
“Maybe you can train him again (y/n),” Megumi pipes up.  He leans over Satoru’s head, resting his arms across the white locks before setting his chin against the puffy sleeves of his coat to rest.  “Like me” 
She smiles up at him sweetly, and nods her head again.  Truthfully, Nanami’s abilities nearly surpassed hers back in the day, but she had no problem with letting Megumi believe she was stronger than she was.
“Maybe then I’ll get good at teaching,” She said, eyes flickering down to Satoru, who beamed at the idea.  “Jujutsu Tech always needs more teachers” She shrugs a shoulder at the thought.
But for now, she tables the idea, putting her focus back into entertaining the kids for the day.  As long as they had a good holiday season, full of the spoiling and love they so deserved, she’d be content.
___
On the third day of February, Gojo Satoru shows up at the (y/l/n)-Fushiguro apartment like a madman that evening.  He appears out of thin air in the living room, and his worried state only escalates when he finds the room empty.  It’s late enough that without the lights, the room is dark, but early enough in the evening that there should have been some form of life in the apartment.
He’s quick to scour through the hallways.  He finds Tsumiki asleep in her bed, and carefully closes the door behind him.  When he turns to Megumi’s room, the boy is still awake, happily reading with the clip-on light on the cover of his book- a gift he’d gotten from (y/n) this past holiday.  When the man practically barges into the room, he’s not as alarmed as he should be.  Satoru appearing out of nowhere had become such a regular occurrence that it would be silly if he still flinched at his sudden presence.
“Sorry, kid, shoulda knocked,” Satoru apologizes sheepishly.  “(y/n/n) here? She didn’t go on a mission, did she?” 
It wouldn’t be like her to take on an assignment and leave the kids alone at the apartment.  Then again, it wasn’t like her to ignore his texts and calls all day.  Eight texts, three phone calls, to be exact.
She’d ignored Shoko’s, too.  Hence is panic and instantaneous arrival at her residence.
Megumi shakes his head, tucking his bookmark into the page he’d been on before setting it down.  He climbs out of bed wordlessly, and walks out of the room, leaving Satoru to follow after him.
He’s a little embarrassed when Megumi takes him towards (y/n’s) room, where her door has been left ajar.  He points through the crack, before looking up at Satoru with a small frown.
“She’s been out there all night,” He says softly.
Satoru furrows his brows, before pushing open the door a little more so he could see for himself what Megumi meant.  Sure enough, her bedroom was unlit, and the window on the furthest wall was slid open.  The curtains surrounding it blow gently with the breeze that creeps into the room.  He can just barely make out (y/n) sitting on the small patch of roof just outside of the window.
“Is she okay?” Megumi asks, his voice even smaller.
He’d never seen her the way she’d acted today.  There had been a ghostly pale look on her face this morning, and then again when she’d picked up him and his sister from school.  Most of the afternoon was spent focused on chores, and then preparing dinner.  Any attempts made by him or his sister to get her to open up, or even smile, had failed.  
And then, once dinner was finished and the dishes were done, she’d excused herself to her room.  After two hours, Megumi and Tsumiki had peeked in to see if she was alright, only to find her sitting on the roof outside her window, alone.
Satoru lets out a sigh, his heart sinking as it finally clicks for him why she’d been so dodgy.  He should’ve figured it out sooner, he realizes that now.
“She’ll be alright,” He answers Megumi, pulling the door shut to give her her privacy again, even though she didn’t seem to notice the onlooking presence behind her.  “Come on, you should get to bed” 
Megumi hesitates, wanting to know more, out of worry for his caretaker that worked so hard to make sure he was content and happy every day of his life.  Now she was struggling and he felt helpless.  But he was just a kid, what was he supposed to do?
“You’ll make sure?” He asks.  It was the closest to asking the man for help that he’d ever gotten, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Satoru smiles, patting the kid on the head before pushing him gently back towards his room.
“Course I will,” He says, and it seems genuine, so Megumi complies and begins walking back to his door.  “Sweet dreams ‘gumi” 
“Goodnight” Megumi calls, rather than roll his eyes like he wants to.  Well, at least he waits until he’s in his closed room to do so.
Once he’s out of sight and presumably settling back into bed, Satoru opens the door he’s lingered by and slips into the room quickly.  Even as he climbs out of the window- which was a great struggle because it was a small opening and he was all limbs- (y/n’s) attention remains on the sky.
She has her knees pulled to her chest, and now he’s close enough that he can smell the cigarette held between her fingers.
“Thought you quit” He hums as she crawls awkwardly to where she’s sitting.
(y/n) doesn’t flinch at his presence.  He wonders how long she’d realized he was there.  She doesn’t look at him, either, much to his dismay.  She’s still focused on the stars, as though they’d been in the midst of an important conversation.
“Yeah, well,” Her voice is a murmur as she brings the cig to her lips, taking a short drag.  After filling her lungs she exhales, sighing for longer than she had smoke to disseminate.  “Guess I couldn’t help it today” 
Satoru nods in understanding, his attention catching on a small plate beside her.  The tiniest of smiles quirks on the corner of his lips as he sees a lone cupcake sitting on it.  It looks positively delicious, thick vanilla cake wrapped in a colorful paper, topped with a generous amount of frosting, curled over itself in a perfect mountain, and then covered in rainbow sprinkles.
If this was any other cupcake, on any other day, he’d be pushing her off this roof right now just to steal a bite of it.
But this cupcake wasn’t meant for him.
“I know you’re going to worry,” (y/n’s) speaking again, and his eyes drift away from the ominous treat and back to her, even though she’s still refusing to look at him.  “But you don’t need to.  You can go, if you want…” She trails off for a moment, taking in a shaky breath before finishing her thought.  “If you need to grieve… in your own way” 
Amidst the solemn memories that are flooding his mind of this day in past years, Satoru thinks it’s one of the kindest things she’s ever offered to him.  Pushing him away so that he can process this day however he needs, rather than sit here and comfort her while she processes her way.
And it’s not that it’s easy for him, because it isn’t.  He’d woken up today knowing exactly what day it was.  And not just Friday.  Today the weight of the world felt heavier on his shoulders than usual.  His coffee, pumped full of cream and sugar, tasted bitter.  The sun seemed to disappear behind a patch of clouds every time he stepped outside.  The day dragged and dragged, and given the fact that (y/n) had ghosted him for the day hadn’t helped.
But he couldn’t exactly blame her.  Because even he was a reminder to her.  A reminder that their group of three had once been four.  That when he’d met her all those years ago, he’d come as a matching set.  His heart sank for her, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her mind of pleasant memories now covered in a haze of darkness.  
Guilt.  Regret.  Longing.  
“No, sweetheart,” He murmurs to her, sliding himself over the shingles to be closer to her.  Her hair is down, and it covers her side profile, so it’s still hard for him to see her, but for once he’s patient.  “No, ‘m not goin’ anywhere” 
It’s quiet for quite some time.  (y/n) continues puffing on the cigarette until the taste turns sour in her mouth, and then she’s stumping it out on the shingles, only half smoked.  Satoru hopes this means she really has quit the nasty habit, and tonight wasn’t a backslide on an old addiction, but instead a small escape towards nostalgia.  While she fiddles with the dead cig in her fingers, he notes it was the brand that Shoko always picked up.  The very brand that back in high school, she’d made smoke buddies out of (y/n), and Suguru too, smoking those exact cigarettes.
“D’you think he’s celebrating?” 
Her voice catches in her throat, but she swallows the lump as soon as she voices her question.
No, Satoru thinks.
“Maybe,” He hums in response.  “Probably not as hard as you did” He adds, trying to lighten the mood with the memory of her own twentieth birthday.  (y/n) lets out a small sound that was meant to be a hum, but it sounds choked, like someone has a hand around her throat, strangling her pipes until she had no more voice left.
She stares at the cigarette in her fingers, her eyes hard, desperate to stay dry, but this leaves them without emotion.
“I didn’t think today would be this hard,” She admits.  “I thought I…” 
Satoru watches her carefully, his eyes darting from her hidden face to the cigarette that was trembling in her delicate hold.  As if the day alone wasn’t hard enough, his heart breaks over her further.  Being the strongest didn’t mean shit at this moment.  There wasn’t a damn thing he could do to ease this pain for her, but fuck, if he could take it all away, and carry it for her himself, he would.  
“I thought I’d already cried as much as I could over him,” Her words wobble, thanks to her burning throat and quivering lips.  “But I… I just…” 
She shakes her head, a humorless laugh escaping her throat in one harsh sob.  It sounds exactly how she feels.  Angry, forlorn, exasperated.
“Satoru,” 
She turns to him, finally.  The stumpy little cigarette falls from her shaking hands as she moves quickly.  As if his heart wasn’t hurting enough, now he sees the tears streaming down her face.
How long had she been out here crying? He worries.  How long had she been carrying this alone?
Before she can continue he’s surging forward.  Both hands raising to her face in order to make quick work at drying her tears.  It’s no use, they won’t stop flooding and he knows it too, but still, he wipes them away with diligent, loving thumbs.
“I can’t bear this,” She mumbles, watery eyes flickering between his.  
It’s a damn vulnerable thing to admit, and maybe tomorrow she’ll regret this moment of fragile exposure, but right now all she feels is a weight on her chest, pressing harder and harder until it’s left a gaping wound, and she’s so desperate for relief from this pain that she brings her walls down.  Even if it means she takes them down completely.
“It hurts too much,” She continues in a strained whimper.  “I don’t want to miss him anymore, I don’t want to think about him anymore,” 
Satoru’s brows fall to furrow together as she makes her pained confession, and if it wasn’t for the way she spoke, he could see it on her.  In the way her body shook as she cried, her hurt seeped out of every orifice, until she was made nearly unrecognizable.
Since Geto Suguru’s defection, she’d done a bang up job keeping her feelings on the matter to herself.  Minus the day he left them, she’d barely even spoken a word about it, and in fact, she hadn’t talked about him at all.  Until this very moment.  It appeared that she’d kept it packed up so deep inside that today was the last straw, the final blow to her unprocessed grief.  Denial was a wonderful thing, but it could only do the trick for so long.
Satoru cradles her face with the gentleness of feathers on her skin.  He doesn’t say a word, there’s not enough words in the world to bring an ounce of comfort to her now.  Nothing could fix the situation, believe him, he’s tried to find the miracle cure.  But this disease that was their shared trauma, their haunted past, was terminal.
So instead he sits quietly with her.  He brushes away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, over and over again, and he’s bound to this very spot to continue to do so until it’s enough.  Until he’s enough to carry all of her sorrow, all of her strife, and anything else.
Satoru’s throat begins to burn the longer he watches her fall apart at the seams before him.  This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her at her lowest, he’d been there once or twice before to try to pick up her pieces, and hold her gently together until she feels whole again.  But it doesn’t matter if he’d done this a thousand times before, it always feels unfamiliar, and it always wounds him.
He tries his hardest to push down the feeling, to be present as the strength that she needs of him.  But tonight is different than the other times he’s calmed and comforted her.
A shaky exhale escapes him, and the movements of his thumbs on her cheeks grow rushed, and erratic.
“Oh sweetheart,” Satoru means to speak in a murmur, but his voice wavers as much as his breath.  It’s littered with an emotion that makes (y/n’s) stomach churn and knot.  “You know I hate seeing you cry” 
His eyes follow the constant flow of tears as he prods carefully to wipe them away.  His heart weighs heavy in his chest, sinking all the way to his stomach.
Slowly, (y/n) inches forward, her eyes flickering between his for a moment, before her hands rest on his shoulders and she leans in to embrace him.  It’s stiff at first, as if they were unfamiliar with hugging one another.  But she sinks into him after adjusting, and wraps her arms around his neck completely while holding on tight.
His own arms encircle her waist, before resting cheek atop her head.
“I wish I could just hate him,” She mumbles into his shoulder, the fabric of his tee shirt growing wet with her tears pooling into it.  “It would make it easier” 
Satoru nods.  One of his hands pressed flat against her back as he started to move it in soothing circles.
They sit quietly for a few minutes, until her crying has calmed enough that she’s not shaking anymore, and his eyes have fallen shut with fatigue whilst he’s holding her close and rubbing her back.
“D’you want to go inside?” Satoru hums, tilting his head to press her lips into her hair.  “Get some rest?” 
She doesn’t answer him right away.  Not in words, at least.  Her arms tighten around him in the slightest, tensing up as she makes sure her hold on him is firm.
“No,” She whispers, followed by another squeeze, and this time he feels the pads of her fingertips pressing into the material of his shirt, against his skin.  “I want to stay here a little longer,” She admits while she pushes her face into the crook of his neck.  “If that’s okay?” She asks in a smaller voice.
“Of course that’s okay,” Satoru agrees, his free hand reaching up to cup the back of her head.  He gently pets her hair as she settles back into him again.  Best case scenario, she’ll fall asleep, and he can tuck her into bed and hope that the rest brings her more comfort than he’s capable of.  “Whatever you want, sweetheart,” His lips graze over her head as he murmurs, “Just let me know.  I’ll do whatever you need.  I’ll get you whatever you need.  Just tell me” 
Again, her hold stiffens on him, and she’s got him so snug in her arms now that breaking away would prove to be difficult.  Strongest be damned.  No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.
And then she’s pulling away.  Her arms loosen and slide away, only for her hands to find purchase at his forearms, tethering herself to him with a gentle grip.  Even still, this has him locked to her, chained, bound.  
He lifts his head to look at her properly, meeting her wide, panicked eyes.  There’s a few tears left, clinging where they could.  They hide in plain sight at the corners of her eyes and on her cheeks.  Satoru has the thought to clear them away, but her hands begin to shake as she clings to his arms, and he doesn’t have the heart to pull himself from her grip.
No hold on Gojo Satoru has ever been more binding.
“Then I need you to promise me something,” She speaks with urgency, although he could already see the fright in her eyes.  He doesn’t get a chance to nod in agreement before she’s speaking again.  “You can’t ever go” 
Satoru blinks, taken aback by the request.  He’s quick to reassure her with a small chuckle, not out of humor, but from the irony that she feels the need to ask such a thing.
“Of course I won’t-” 
“I’m serious,” She speaks over him, eyes unblinking as she moves her hands to clutch onto his shoulders.  Her hold is softer now, but it carries the same weight.  “Please, promise me,” She whispers.  “Promise you won’t go anywhere,” 
She sucks in a breath as she fights more tears from pooling in her eyes.
“Promise me I won’t ever lose you, too,” 
Satoru’s brows pinch together as he nods back at her in a small motion.  With his arms free, he cups her face in his hands again, tilting her head forward so he could seal his promise with his lips pressed against the crown of her head.
He lingers there for a second, before kissing her in the middle of her forehead once more and leaning away so he could look at her.
“I just can’t-” She tries to speak but her tears are choking her up again.  “I can’t lose you, okay?”
He’s nodding at her, his expression gravely serious as he agrees to her terms.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Satoru tucks a loose strand of hair carefully behind her ear before continuing.  “You’ll never lose me,” He gives her a sweet, comforting smile before he’s cupping her face again, fingers splayed across her cheeks, catching the last of her tears and drying them off.  “I need ya too much, yaknow?” 
A faint smile quirks at the corners of her lips, her eyes filling with relief, and something bashful.  He can feel it in the warmth of her face.
Softly, she murmurs, “I need you, too,” 
It’s a difficult thing to say out loud, there’s more weight to those words than she thought there would be, but it’s the truth, and she needs him to know it.  She needs him to know that while there’s still things she can’t bring herself to admit, at the end of the day he had her complete trust.  And right now, that seems more important.
“I…” Her voice gets caught in her throat, but this time it’s not because of the burn of tears.  She swallows hard anyways, and musters up the courage to continue.  “I don’t know what I’d do without you, ‘toru” 
His smile grows warm and syrupy.  It might not have been the confession he was holding out for, but it still made something fluttery and ticklish dance around his inside.  His heart swells.  His eyelashes grow heavy.
“Miss me, hopefully” He murmurs, gently pinching her cheek between his thumb and index finger, then smoothing over the skin with the pad of his thumb.
Her mood is significantly lifted by his familiar and affectionate teasing.  Her pain still lurks around the corner, but right now her back is turned, and all she can see are his bright eyes and tender smile.  All she knows is that his hands are warm against her face, and it turns her to putty having him this close.
Her head tilts to the side, cheek pressing further into the comforting warmth of his hand.  He regards her with a fondness so intense it almost makes her nervous.  Sometimes she had to re-learn how to get used to this look.
“Then…” Her voice is merely a breath.  “Stay” 
He’s smiling again, even though he knows she’s not asking him to spend the night in the spare room- which he’d already done five days out of this week without being invited, he didn’t need an invitation to crash there, he just did- but asking him to stay here, with her.  He shouldn’t be smiling, he shouldn’t feel that skip in his heart beat as he preens with pride and adoration.  Because the last time he’d stayed with her, it had been too hard.
It was too domestic.  Too intimate.  And all too difficult to pretend that it was normal, or casual.  The feelings that she plants in him blossom like uncontrollable wildflowers, and Satoru had realized he was far too weak to ever put himself through it again.  He cared about her too deeply to jeopardize it all over a shared bed.  Maybe it was childish of him, but he’d sworn he wouldn’t do it again.  When she’d made it so clear where they stood with one another, it wasn’t fair to her to gaze at her long after she'd fallen asleep in his arms and ache for more.
But Satoru is a fool.
He’s carefully helping her back through the window while she holds the cupcake in one hand and his in the other.  Before he heads to the spare room- where he has left quite a few drawers worth of extra clothes- he gives her hand a squeeze.  A silent promise that he’ll be quick.  She leaves the cupcake on her bedside table while she sits at the edge of her mattress and waits.  He is very quick, back in her room after barely two minutes have gone by.  When he closes the door, he does so as silently as possible.  When he sits beside her, his movements are slow, almost calculated with how carefully he moves.
“We should eat this cupcake,” She tells him, her eyes focused on the treat with an unreadable emotion behind them.  “It would be a shame… if it went to waste” 
He lets out a chuckle, which has her attention shifting to him.
“I couldn’t agree more” He says with a wide grin.
Her brow furrows.
“Were you just waiting for me to-” 
“Yes, yeah I was, hand it over”
He’s already reaching across her to snatch the plate off of the table.  There’s a plastic knife residing beside the cupcake, and after carefully peeling off the paper wrapper, Satoru cuts the cake down the middle as evenly as he could.  (y/n) almost laughs at his eagerness to eat the treat.  She supposes she could have let him have the whole thing if he was so eager for it, but he’s already handing her a half, and it does look delicious.
When she’d wandered into the bakery earlier that afternoon, before the Fushiguro kids were out of school, she hadn’t really planned on picking out a dessert to celebrate the birthday of someone she was trying to forget.  She wasn’t really sure what had wound her up in there, she hadn’t held a particular craving for any of the sugary sweets on display.  Then she’d seen that cupcake in the glass case, and as soon as her eyes had landed on it, she found herself getting in line to order it.  All the while telling herself this was silly, that he didn’t even have a sweet tooth, and this wasn’t at all what she would have gotten to celebrate his day had he been here.
But he wasn’t here.  And (y/n) was taking the small box home to sit on her counter where it could taunt her for the rest of the day, until she;d given in and plated the damn thing.
Now she stares at her half of it, held carefully in her fingertips.  The frosting felt heavy atop the small piece of cake, and she’s reminded that she actually doesn’t really care for cupcakes.  They were awkward, especially ones like these, where it was impossible to take a bite without getting cream smeared on your face.
She really shouldn’t have bought this.
“Well, that was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten” 
Satoru snaps her out of her thoughts, her head snapping towards him in a jerky movement, as if she’d forgotten he was sitting beside her.  He’s got the pad of his middle finger between pursed lips, happily sucking off the last of the sugary sweetness.  He grins at her surprise.  (y/n) looks back at her own piece, and finally, carefully takes a bite.
It’s all vanilla and sugar.  From the cake to the frosting and sprinkles, the tiny dessert is packed with sweetness.  Even after one bite she’s certain that half of the cupcake was plenty, and she never would have eaten the whole thing on her own.  Although she’s sure Satoru would have finished the whole thing without a complaint.
Just as she’d thought, when she finishes her piece, she can feel the remnants of frosting clinging to her lip.  With a crinkled nose she wipes at it with her thumb, before turning to Satoru.
“Did I get it all?” She asks.  He chuckles as he shakes his head, amused by the smear of white over her cupid’s bow.  However before she can blindly rub it away some more, he’s leaning forward.  His fingers hook under her chin while his thumb craftily swipes over her upper lip, making sure to get the last of the offending frosting.
It’s not much, and really had she rubbed her mouth again she would have easily cleared away the rest of it, but he couldn’t resist, and he was acting without thinking.
“There ya go” He hums, his voice quieter than he meant it to be, before he’s sticking his thumb in his mouth to enjoy the last of her vanilla frosting as well.
(y/n) blinks, her eyes wide but the rest of her expression blank.  She figures she should thank him, maybe even make a joke to play off the strangely intimate act that has her heart doing somersaults in her chest, but she can’t bring herself to say anything.
Without a word, she stands from the bed, placing the plate with the wrapper and plasticware back on her nightstand.  Satoru takes his time getting settled under her covers, against her pillows.  When she climbs in after him, she’s still quiet.  She tucks the blanket up close to her chin, and then glances up to him, finding his eyes already on her.
They’re not touching, but he’s close enough that she can feel his heat under the shared blankets.  He’s close enough that she’s glad it’s dark in the room, because her face feels warm with the familiar sensation of a blush.
Four years of knowing him, and his close proximity still garnered the same reaction out of her.  She wondered if he knew she was blushing anyways, if his Six Eyes were always able to see right through her.
“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs, although her eyes are feeling too heavy to start a conversation right now.
He gives her a small smirk and a raised brow, intrigued by the age old anxiety-inducing question.
“Shoot” He muses back.
“How do you do it?” (y/n’s) hand slides under her pillow, raising her head just enough to get a proper look at him.  He looks puzzled, like he doesn’t understand the question, so she clarifies.  “You know, have the answer for everything,” She says.  “I feel like I… I feel like I bombard you with problem after problem and you just…” 
She trails off, and if she was being honest it’s because she’s getting lost in his eyes and forgetting momentarily what she was even talking about.  There were times when she looked at him that while he looked back, she got the overwhelming sense of his complete attention.  And sometimes, it made her heart stutter.  Occasionally her voice would deceive her, too.  She wants to move in closer, until she’s so impossibly too close, but she snaps back to reality just as her mind had started to drift off.
“You just always know what to do.  Or say” She finishes her thought in a hushed whisper.  Maybe it was her train of thought turning hazy from the adoration seeping in, but she suddenly feels like it was a confidential thing to say, too full of emotion to put out in the open so brazenly.
Satoru chuckles, and it relieves some of the tension that’s curling up in her chest.
“It’s cute that you think that,” He replies.  “That’s just what we do, though, isn’t it?” 
Now it’s her turn to furrow her eyebrows, not understanding what he’s trying to say.
Satoru gives her a small shrug.
“We look out for each other,” He states.  “Right?” 
“I ‘spose” (y/n) mumbles back, feeling severely gutted by the realization that he looked out for her more than she did for him.  How do you have the back of someone who’s already the strongest in the world? How could she possibly be as good to him as he was to her? 
It dawns on her then that she can’t, that she could never be a semblance of a person he deserved to have in his life.  Not just due to his strength and status, but because of who Gojo Satoru was as a human.  He was far too good, too kind and caring and patient for the likes of her to be involved with him.  She was messy, at times reckless, and most of all she lived too much in her own head.  Overthinking every situation, and every word, most days it felt like it took her ages just to find the right way to respond, to find the right words, make the right face.
Like right now.
“You don’t think so?” Satoru asks, readjusting his pillow so he too could get a better look at her.  Her lips twitch into an awkward smile, nervous that he was able to read her so easily.  “What’re you thinkin’ about?”
But how was she supposed to tell him? While she lays here and feels regret and guilt flood through her bloodstream like poison, how does she explain to him that she finally understood why she’d pushed him away all those months ago when he’d tried to make something more of the two of them? Just the thought has her skin crawling with goosebumps, and her heart thumping hard in her chest with adrenaline.
“C’mon, tell me” He prods again, this time giving her a smile, too curious to know what was knotting up her pretty features with an upset expression.  Something clearly bothered her about his statement- or at least, it was clear to him.
Her mouth opens, but even still she struggles to find the right thing to say.  No set of words in her language seemed like a good enough explanation.  Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit what had been on her mind.  Because admitting it would prove to him that it had been on her mind.
“I…” Her throat feels dry.  The fingers under her pillow curl into the sheets tightly.  “I don’t think it’s fair of me to ask you to stay,” She confesses in a small voice.  Satoru’s face falls.  “I don’t think it’s fair of me to make you promise,” 
He lifts his head from the pillow, bracing himself up on his arm as he looks down at her with an expression that was somewhere between concern and peculiarity.
Holding onto her last scrap of courage, (y/n) continues.
“You’re destined for such magnificent things,” She murmurs, a ghost of a smile on her face.  “And you’re the strongest but- but it’s not just because of that.  You were always going to be destined for great things, because… because you’re you,” 
She pauses, taking in a small breath and fighting the urge to look away from him, to spare herself from the eyes that were piercing into hers with ardent focus.
“And I… I’m just…” Her lip gets dragged between her teeth as she shakes her head in a slow movement.  “You were born deserving so, so much more than…” In a lazy gesture, her free hand waves above her, fingers twitching in small motions.  She doesn’t say me, but he knows it’s what she’s trying to convey.
“Don’t say that” He mumbles, offended that she could even think such an untrue, vulgar thing about herself, about the person he cares so much more about than she gave him credit for.
“It’s true,” She says back.  “You could be doing so much more amazing things with your life, you could have anything in the world if you wanted it, but instead you’re- you’re here,” Her voice grows smaller as she speaks, the dread of what she needed to say next weighing heavy on her tongue.  “And I… I know I shouldn’t be making you promise to stay.  I should be making you go,” 
She swallows hard, trying to get the lump in her throat to smooth away, but it lingers there, and makes her breath hitch as she closes her eyes before continuing.
“But I just can’t bring myself to do it” 
She can’t see him, but Satoru’s shaking his head at her, refusing to accept any of the nonsense she’s telling him right now.
“Then don’t,” He says, his words rushed, desperate to make himself clear before actually thinking through what the right thing to say was.  “You don’t have to.  I don’t want you to,” 
She’s refusing to look at him, so with his free hand, he cups her face, and he waits until she does.  Her eyes are glossy, but she’s fighting the need to cry again.
“You understand me, sweetheart?” He murmurs, his voice softening as he gazes down at her.  The snow-white tips of his hair almost touch her forehead with how close he’s leaning.  “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, even right now, okay?” 
She presses her lips together in an attempt to hide her wince.
“Tell me you understand,” He whispers, eyes flickering between hers.  “I need to know that you understand” 
A small sniffle, and then a nod.
“I understand,” Her voice cracks even in her whisper.  “I just-” 
“No more of that,” He murmurs, his gentle thumb tracing her cheekbone in slow, lazy movements.  “No more of that, I can’t stand it.  You can’t push me away.  Not again.  Not ever again” He’s shaking his head to punctuate every word.
A single tear drips from her eye as she blinks, and he’s quick to wipe it away, just as he had earlier, desperate to make all of her tears disappear in any way he can, anyway she needs.
This wasn’t the first time she’d done this, but it gutted him all the same, recalling the last time she’d tried to force him away.  She’d nearly gone and gotten herself killed by the hands of the Zen’in Clan.  And before that was their fight, in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, when she’d told him that she didn’t need him.  He nearly shudders at the memory.  Of course he knew now that she hadn’t meant it, that it was her desperate attempt to keep him from prying into her life where she’d thought he was going to wind up hurt.
Now it was different.  Now it was real.  It was raw ache and fear before him.
“I promised you I’m not going anywhere,” He tells her.  His eyes trailing down to her lips on their own accord.  “I need you to promise me the same,” 
There’s a pause as his words hang between them, and then she gives him a shaky nod.  Her wide eyes don’t leave his, they remain searching, needing to be sure that he means it.  There’s not a bone in her body that tells her otherwise, but she’s so terrified of the fear of losing him that she just needs to be absolutely sure.
“I’m the one being unfair,” Satoru murmurs, his eyes following the movement of his thumb over her cheek.  “I know that, I know that you don’t want more and I overstep anyways because… because I can’t help it” 
There’s a shift in the mood, she can feel it, how it lightens the pressure on her chest before slamming it right back down.
He leans closer, and her breath hitches in her throat at the prospect of him closing every last inch of distance between them.  She should stop him, she should put her hands on his shoulders and push him away until he’s at a safe distance from her again.  But she doesn’t.
She pulls her hand out from under her pillow, and it blindly slides over the sheets until it finds his.  Her movements are slow, almost frightfully so as her fingers slot between his.  She tries to calm her breathing but it’s hard to focus on it and him so she settles for keeping her focus on him.
With her fingers fully tangled with his he squeezes her hand, maybe tighter than he should have, but having her so close is intoxicating, and he just wants to savor it for as long as he can.
(y/n) takes in a deep breath.
“I never said I didn’t want more,” She whispers, peering up at him from beneath heavy lashes.
His heart is beating so quickly he’s certain she can hear it.  It pounds heavily in his ears, almost louder than her hushed whispers.  Was he understanding her right? 
“I was just… afraid” She admits it softly.
Satoru furrows his brow, but his lips curl into a smirk that had her regretting saying anything because she knows he’s about to tease her now.
“Afraid?” He repeats with a small laugh.  “You think I’d ever do anything to hurt you?” 
He’s teasing, but the thought makes him want to throw up.
“Course not,” She shakes her head, before gently pressing her face further into the warmth of his hand.  She hopes it’s an unnoticed movement, but from the way he also applies more pressure in his touch, she thinks otherwise.  “More like I’m afraid of hurting you” 
Satoru laughs louder this time, his face splitting into a delighted smile.  He’s completely amused by the idea, and (y/n) frowns at him.
“You can’t hurt me sweetheart,” He practically purrs, and then he’s leaning closer.  His chest hovers over her close enough that she feels almost caged in by him.  He’s close enough now that the tip of his nose nearly bumps into hers.  “I’m completely untouchable” 
She squeezes his hand with an affectionate roll of her eyes.
“I think you have to actually activate infinity if you want it to work” She murmurs.
It’s quiet again, the two of them smiling at each other fondly, foolishly, both taken away by a deep infatuation that had been repressed for far too long.  It seeps out of them now like an overflow, pouring out in the cracks that were their adoring eyes.
Her free hand reaches up towards his face, fingertips ghosting over the soft ends of his hair that hangs down over her eyes.  She combs her fingers through the silky strands of white before trailing downwards, her touch light and gentle as she traces his forehead, followed by his nose, then cheekbone, down towards his jaw.  Her sleepy gaze observes every drag of her fingers, as though committing it all to memory.
Satoru’s frozen above her, allowing her to explore every inch of his face if she so pleased.  It was a face she’d known for years, but she touches him now like she’s only recently been bestowed the gift of sight.  He’s not sure the last time he’s been touched so gently.  There’s a distant memory of his mother’s hand caressing his cheek, but even in a fond memory the touch is fleeting.
Being touched like this- softly, sweetly, carefully, lovingly- by her, it’s as though she has all the time in the world.
Her fingers fall still over his chin as her eyes flit back up to his.
They meet for a brief moment before his eyes are falling shut and he’s closing the space between them.  As soon as his lips touch hers she’s sliding her hand under his jaw, keeping him perfectly in place as she kisses him back.
His mouth is warm, and still sweet from the cupcake they’d shared, which seems like forever ago.  In fact everything seems to fade away.  The only thing she can feel is his soft lips, his soft hand splayed over her cheek, the soft swipe of his thumb over hers where their hands are still interlocked.
The kiss is experimentally slow at first.  They’re both holding their breath, each half expecting the other to pull away prematurely with remorseful eyes.  Neither do.
They part for a second, only because oxygen becomes a necessity once more.  Satoru smiles down at her when he sees her eyes are still shut, and he can’t help but to lean in and plant one more quick kiss on her lips.  He’s waited this long to get his chance, he might as well steal as many as he could get.
As he lays back on his side of the bed, he moves his hand from her cheek to her waist, gently coaxing her to lay closer, until she’s curled up into his side, one of her legs thrown between his, her head resting in the soft place below his collarbone.  Their conjoined hands rest over his stomach.  He’s still stroking his thumb over hers.  She’s drawn to sleep by nothing but comfort.
“G’night, ‘toru” Her words are mumbled, and a little slurred.
He plants his lips at the crown of her head sweetly.  She drifts to sleep with a faint smile.
“Goodnight, sweetheart” 
___
The next morning she’s lured out of sleep by the smell of bacon.
It smells like a lot of other delicious things, too, but the bacon is what has her peeking open an eye to check the time.  Sure enough, her bed is empty, and it’s mid-morning.
This time when she slips out of the covers to go check out the buffet of breakfast foods Satoru had been whipping up- effectively making an absolute mess of her kitchen- she’s not hungover.  Her head isn’t killing her with such a brutal headache that she couldn’t open her eyes.  As she walks quietly into the kitchen, she’s able to watch as Tsumiki pours pancake batter out of a ladle, carefully making shapes on the griddle.  She leans into the fridge while she watches Satoru talk through his bacon frying process while Megumi sits on his shoulders, leaned over the top of his head, and apparently actually listening to him.
Tsumiki flips a pancake with perfect precision and they all cheer.  Satoru reminds her to add chocolate chips to the bowl of pancake batter once she’s made enough for herself, Megumi, and (y/n).  Because I refuse to eat pancakes without them, he reminds her, even though she doesn’t need it.  He’s spent enough breakfasts with them now for the kids to realize how debilitating his sweet tooth was.
It’s Megumi who first notices (y/n’s) secretly joined them.  With a boyish grin he tugs at Satoru’s hair, who cries out and almost stumbles at the sudden and sharp pain.
The pain is eased when he sees what Megumi was trying to catch his attention for.  (y/n’s) trying to stifle her laughter from behind her hand, but she’s failing.
“Awe, the surprise is ruined now” Satoru frowns.
She drops her hand and shakes her head as she wanders further into the kitchen to see what else this mess had created.  Megumi reaches towards her in a silent ask to be let off of Satoru’s shoulders.  She lifts him up with ease and sets him on the ground.
“It’s not ruined at all,” She says with a smile.  “But if you want to do it all again tomorrow, I’ll pretend I didn’t know” She adds in a tease.
“Yeah! Can we?” Tsumiki asks excitedly.  “I want to make omelets!” 
“No! French toast!” Megumi declares.
The pair break into a fit of bickering, which is quickly silenced by Satoru.
“Hey! You two are ruining this perfect morning!” He barks.  “Stop fighting and we can have both!” 
He doesn’t know how to make omelets, hell, he struggled with the bacon, so he’s hoping he can find a youtube tutorial decent enough to teach a helpless cook like him how to make some.  But his promise does the trick and Megumi and Tsumiki work together to make more pancakes.
“Do you even know how-?” (y/n) begins to question his ability as she eyes the crispy bacon in the pan he’s no longer paying attention to because she’s there now and she somehow looks so pretty first thing in the morning.  Her hair a complete mess, and donning a fluffy robe with bunnies all over it, he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.
“Sh sh sh,” He hushes with a shake of his head, his hand wrapping around her hip as he pulls her into his side before finally looking back at the bacon.  “Oh, shit” He mutters as he darts to turn off the stove while (y/n) picks up the tongs and plucks the strips off the pan before they start to completely burn.
“Yeah, maybe tomorrow I cook,” She muses, nose wrinkling at the overcooked bacon.  But when she looks up at him again, she smiles happily.  “You and Megumi will be on french toast duty,” She says decidedly.  “I’ll teach Tsumiki how to make omelets” 
His lips curl into a smirk at the simple instruction.
“Little Hex, are you inviting me to stay the night?” 
“Ew!” Megumi grimaces, sticking his tongue out at the obvious flirt.
Tsumiki’s giggling, and starts to make a heart shaped pancake on the griddle, complete with Satoru’s chocolate chips.
(y/n) rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are undeniably warm, pink blossoming across her face.
“Only if Megumi says it’s okay” She replies, tilting her chin up at him teasingly.
Satoru turns the other way to look down at the kid that had a sinister smile on his face.  Jeez, sometimes this kid creeped him out.  How come (y/n’s) golden boy had to be such a goddamn menace?
Apparently she just had a soft spot for menaces.
Satoru meets Megumi’s ruthless stare with narrowed eyes.
“I’ll give you three hundred dollars”
“Satoru!” (y/n) picks up a kitchen towel off the counter to smack his arm with it.  “No bribing the kids!” 
“Fine,” He grumbles, catching the soft weapon mid swing before she could hit him again.  Then he peeks back towards Megumi, and in a slightly quieter voice says, “Four hundred?” 
(y/n) gasps at his blatant disregard for her rules, but before she can scold him again, Megumi gives a firm nod of agreement, and looks over to her.
“He can stay,” He says decidedly, but mutters to himself as he goes back to helping his sister with the pancakes.  “He stays over every other freakin’ night anyways” 
Tsumiki’s giggling as she whispers her own little rumors, much to the boy’s dismay, but he listens anyway.
“I think he’s warmin’ up to me” Satoru grins at (y/n).  She presses her lips together so as not to laugh too hard at the statement.
“You’ve done right by them,” She tells him, something that he’d told her not too long ago.  From the way his grin turns into a soft smile, she has a feeling he remembers.  “And besides, everyone warms up to you eventually” 
“You think you ever will?” He asks, only teasing.
She shrugs a shoulder, humming as though thinking it over.
“Maybe,” She muses, plucking a chocolate chip from the open bag on the counter.  He furrows his brow at the sudden playfulness rather than a real answer.  “We’ll see” 
[ this is a place where i don’t feel alone / this is a place where i feel at home ]
___
a/n: i just want to gush about how much i loved writing this series, and sharing it with you all. it has been my absolute passion project. sorry the slow burn was so slow but i tried to keep it as realistic to the events of the manga and just how things would play out irl. i have a couple other spin-off fics related to this series in the works so i suppose it's not over yet- i just needed more fluff related to these characters that have brought me such comfort and entertainment!! thank you all for your continued support and love for this series (and my other fics too!) having this be so well received warms my heart <3 xoxo ~ jordie
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reyswiftwalker · 1 year
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3x04 Children of Darkness
Chemistry
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vital-information · 11 days
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“The queerness of Mother 3 is a complicated thing. It’s ever present but just how much is supposed to be played for jokes and just how much is to be taken sincerely remains unclear. At the center of this is our protagonist, Lucas. Lucas is an absolute softy, a total mama’s boy. He is not fast, strong, or brave. All of those qualities are held by his adventurous twin brother, Claus. When their mother, Hinawa, dies, Claus swears revenge and embarks on a journey, but Lucas just cries. He visits his mother’s grave daily. He’s not looking for adventure or vengeance, he’s just sad.
It’s through these early sections of grief that Lucas’s queerness begins to appear. He’s incredibly close with his mother. His father, Flint, is generally absent and when he is present seems more concerned with finding Claus than raising Lucas. Lucas is sensitive to a fault and in opposition with the world around him, one where boys play outside trying to tackle dinosaurs all day. As his village, Tazmily, leaves behind its early idealism in favor of a more commercial existence, its citizens become darker, more sinister. They’re meaner, harder, and also apathetic to the changes around them. The more they change the more it highlights how different Lucas is. He stays soft, he cares so much, he just wants to help.
Lucas’s greatest strength is his softness, his kindness. …In the final battle of the game we see him, alone, fighting a brainwashed Claus with the fate of the world hanging in the balance. Claus launches attack after attack, but Lucas will not hit him back no matter what the player does. Instead Lucas can guard, he can heal himself, and he can believe in his brother. He can even cry a little.”
— Dave Tomaine, “Mother Is Mothering: Grief, Queerness, and Softness in Mother 3”
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arcielee · 11 months
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To Build a Home
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Summary: You are a broken soul and he can recognize it.  Paring: modern Aegon Targaryen x FemaleReader Word Count: 3083 Warnings: Mentions of household abuse, night terrors and coping with anxiety, but then there will be fluff, oh yes indeed.   Author’s Note: Huge shout out to @sirenofavalon​ for this request, it is absolutely brilliant and I just adored it. Thank you!  A huge thank you to @aspen-carter​ and @f4ll-for-you​ for being my beta readers, to Dais especially. You are my muse and I appreciate the ideas you poured into this story, to help me with the outline to create this piece. I cannot thank you enough for you being you. 💜💛 Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.  Taglist (my Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond​ @annikin-im-panicin​​ @watercolorskyy​ @schniiipsel​ @aspen-carter​ @aemondx​ @fan-goddess​
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Helaena had the tendency to collect things; some were intolerable, like her entomology infatuation, and others were more manageable. At school, she was a beacon of warmth and acceptance, accumulating friends from every social group and often bringing them home. Some would stay for a while and move on, still friendly with hallway run-ins, but others needed a savior, an escape. 
Those were the ones who stayed, knitted at her side.
You were quiet as a result of growing up in a violent household, where the tempers were an unbridled heat that searched for any release. As a result, your steps were soft, your movements always slow; it was a skilled trepidation as you were unwilling, unwanting of any attention to be brought to you. 
Helaena had always been sweet enough to sit with you during lunch. You remembered when she sat at your side and asked about the book you were reading. Usually, it was a shield, a way to hide in plain sight, but her lilac eyes were kind and you bookmarked your place to talk with her. It continued through the week, she was always entertained with your summary or reviews of whatever book you had, the different genres of fiction that captured your attention, and you thought her bugs were both peculiar and fascinating. 
She invited you to spend the night and you were able to get permission, both a rarity and relief; that Friday, you waited with Helaena and her two older brothers for their mother, who she kindly asked for you to call her Alicent, to come pick you up. 
The ride was wonderful, as anything that took you away from your home was; you bonded with Aemond over a shared love of literature and learned that you and Aegon were in the same grade, though your schedules were off-kiltered as a result of him failing some classes. 
The Targaryen home was large and welcoming. You saw only one family photo and learned their father had died, but he was not grieved like a love lost, but it almost seemed to be an unspoken relief that washed over the household. 
The evening was spent sprawled in the living room, playing video games until dinner was ready; the meal time was spent in a raucous debate over what film would be watched before bed. Though it was good natured, you felt yourself begin to wither under the raised voices when suddenly Aegon announced it would be The Never Ending Story.
“It is a classic,” he said with a finality to end the discussion.
Later that night, Alicent was on the couch with Daeron, another and even younger brother, while the rest were in a nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor. It was your first real taste of a family setting and you fell asleep with a smile and the subtle ache knowing you inevitably would have to return home. 
Aegon was always a light sleeper; there was an inability to shut his brain off. His mind seemed to flit over anything and everything, which he did his best to explain to his father when he was alive, again to his grandfather, and was met with their adamant words that he was just not applying himself. 
He felt at ease, an unfamiliar but welcomed emotion, nestled amongst his siblings and you, the newest addition, each tucked away in a bundle of blankets on the floor. Aegon began to teeter the edge of unconsciousness when he heard it. 
A soft whimper, a quiet cry. 
He shifted to move, careful not to disturb Aemond or Helaena with her cocoon of pillows; he crept to where you were sleeping, or trying too. He saw your brows were knitted and your lips parted with another muted cry, tears catching on your lashes. Aegon was careful with his touch, just his hand to your shoulder and even this caused your eyes to open wide with fear, grabbing his wrist. 
“Hey, it’s just me,” Aegon whispered. “It’s Aegon and you’re staying at our house, remember?” 
You trembled with a visceral fear and it was something he unfortunately recognized; his mind flitted to earlier with the friendly discourse of what movie to watch, then to when his father was alive or whenever their grandfather would visit. Aegon moved to lay next to you and you shifted to curl against his chest; he made soft, soothing sounds that led into a melody, a few bars sung with his low timbre. He started another without you asking and did not stop until you drifted back into a more peaceful sleep. 
He hummed a bit longer, allowing his eyes to take you in with the dim lighting of the room. He watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, enjoyed the warmth of you pressed against his chest. He also saw the muted purple and green of your jawline, a healing bruise. 
Aegon was careful to pull away and retreated back to his pillows and blankets, still humming the song. 
The next day, you woke up to breakfast being prepared, the clatter of pots and pans, the low baritone of Aemond giving commands and Daeron’s higher pitch quipping back, and the musical laughter of Alicent over it all. You shied away to clean up in the guest bathroom, the careful application of makeup to hide what waited at home, before coming back to the hallway and bumping into Helaena. 
Your new friend has the warmest smile, something that glowed from the kindness that seemed to resonate from her. “Hey, I already asked my mother and, if it is okay with your’s, you are welcome to stay with us for the weekend. We can take you to school on Monday.”  
What you did not know was Aegon grabbing his sister, a hushed whisper of his concern when he relayed the nightmare you had, the injury he swore he saw. She listened, nodding her head and telling him, “I assume it was something. I’ll ask mom if she can stay with us for the rest of the weekend.” 
You learned that your family does not miss you, they only mind you when you are home; it was easy enough for you to stay away and it was expressed that you were welcomed to return, weekend after weekend. During the school week, you had lunches with Helaena and sometimes her brothers would stop by, though you would see Aegon checking in more often than Aemond. On Fridays, your bag was already packed and you would wait with Helaena and her brothers for Alicent to come and take you home. 
It was an unspoken gesture that the guest room became yours; Alicent showed you the cleared out drawers and closet space, her sweet smile encouraging you to leave behind a change of clothes or even your school uniform, whatever you would need to feel more at home. You struggled with the words to thank her and she gave you a hug, a way to say no words were needed.
The space intimately becomes your own and you are pleased to realize your wall is shared with Aegon and his room. The years continued, with secondary school nearing its end and with graduation looming, you and Aegon would spend more time together; he would slip into your room for a late night talk, your shared whispers of what was next to come.
You knew you slept better at the Targaryen’s than your own home, but your nightmares would still come with its sickening hold that sunk into your chest, with a fear that paralyzed you and choked your tongue. It was always the same, how you would run and run, without an end in sight, but aware that if you stopped, it would finally be able to sink its hold into you…
You woke up, in the spare bed placed in the spare bedroom that was unspokenly yours. You felt his warm touch, your mind clearing and allowing you to recognize the comfort noises from Aegon and you blushed once you understood you were in his arms, yet again. You trembled still, but it was a mixture of the lingering fear and newfound relief that the nightmare ended; you let out a shaky exhale.
His fingers curled under your chin and you tilted your head back to meet with his eyes. “Hey,” he smiled at you and you felt your blush deepen. 
“H-hey,” you stammered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I was awake already.” 
It was something you had noticed, how restless he seemed to be in his own room. You wanted to ask what kept him awake, but instead you say. “Aegon, would you please sing my song?”
He shifted his weight, allowing you to reposition; Aegon laid on his back, his head propped on the pillow and you curled against his chest, like always. 
Helaena was your dear friend, perhaps your best friend, but Aegon was something special. With your frequent stay-overs, you learned that he would always be there when you woke up, wearing his warm smile with a song perched on his tongue; his soothing voice helped ease you back into reality, a sung promise that in this moment you were safe within the walls that held you. 
His songs were uniquely his own, his voice amazing, like a balm for your broken soul. It was what was needed to lull you back to sleep, without the terror when you closed your eyes, but this time, you forced yourself to remain awake. “Does your family know you sing like this?” You whispered into his chest. 
You can feel him shake his head and you peered up to see the tussle of his silver locks. “This is something only for you,” and he smiled, pulling you closer to his chest. 
Aegon smelled rich, but you knew it was a cologne that Alicent picked out and it mixed well with the scent of clean laundry and his own comforting scent. You wrapped your arm around his stomach, nestling into the warmth he always seemed to exude; he tensed at first, then exhaled. “I never recognize what you sing to me,” you continued and it is something of a question. 
“It’s the music that plays in my head,” is his vague answer. He always shied away when you complimented his natural talent, always groaning or blushing whenever you praised his singing. 
“Is the music what keeps you up?” 
He hummed a noncommittal reply, so instead you shyly request him to sing you another song and, as always, he obliges you. You can feel the vibration where your head was laying on his chest, his voice able to bring you back to sleep. 
You always slept soundly at his side. 
Graduation comes and you both have enrolled into the same university, but by your own means; Aegon has his trust fund and you, proudly, have your scholarships earned. You shared your concern about finding a place to stay and he was quick to suggest that you roomed with him, since his grandfather was paying for his housing as a means for redemption. 
The Targaryens were always gracious to you and seemed aware of your home life, though you never dared breath a word about it; you should have known he would offer. 
You hesitated; to be his roommate would be effortless, your friendship had grown over the years and his presence allowed you to feel comfortable, made you feel safe. The two of you shared a bond, something his family was aware of but only Helaena would dare tease you; in truth, you cherished the friendship, but you found yourself wanting something more and were too afraid to ask for it. 
Aegon was undeniably handsome, with his bright eyes and his smile that filled the width of his jaw, his mussed silver locks that framed his face. Though he never seemed interested in anyone, the thought lingered with you, he will inevitably get a girlfriend, and then what would you do? 
You swallowed that thought and agreed to it; to celebrate, you purchased him a small, leather bound journal and left it with a note on his bed, in his new room: 
A place where you can store your music and maybe find some sleep.
Together, you both create the apartment into a space that is all your own. Your schedules are listed and you both make sure to recap your days, relishing in each other’s victories. When Aegon came home with a guitar in hand, you glowed with your excitement, the idea of what he would create next. 
His laughter was a sound that filled your chest. “I don’t even know how to play it yet!”
“Yes, but you are talented and brilliant,” you argued, your cheeks rosy from your smile. “So I trust you will be amazing.” 
His talent seemed natural enough and the acoustic sounds complemented his voice in a way that you now craved. Your nightmares were not as frequent, but it seemed to be replaced with an anxiety that had you in a chokehold; it came with the stress of your courses and you pushed yourself to maintain the grades needed that allowed your scholarships. 
Aegon always seemed aware when it began to grab ahold of you and he would be in your door frame, with his guitar in hand. You smiled and moved to your bed, allowing him your seat, and he would show you what he had been learning, his voice able to loosen anxiety’s grip. 
“Aegon,” you sighed one day. “You really should play the next time they do an open mic at the coffee shop. You are so talented.” 
“That is your opinion,” he grinned in return, setting the guitar to lean against your desk. “Maybe if I had a cult following, all who shared your opinion, I could make something with it.” 
“A cult following would be easy enough,” and you meant your tone to be teasing. “Honestly, you can easily get any girl you want, if you actually tried.”
The silence was heavy, almost palpable between the two of you; it was something you had never experienced with him before. It was supposed to be a joke amongst friends, but you wished you could scoop up the words and swallow them. 
He watched you, carefully, his beautiful eyes seemed to trace over your features, but you assumed he did not wish to meet with your stare. You were holding your breath, unsure if you needed to break the silence building or allow him to do it, and it went too long.
Aegon stood up, one hand combed through his silver waves and the other pulled the leather bound journal you gifted him, setting it on the desk. He did not say anything, but instead grabbed the guitar and retreated to his room, leaving your door open. 
You looked at the journal and your eyes trailed to the now empty door frame; you waited for him to come back. He doesn’t and you push from the bed, reaching to pick it up and standing still, debating on what you should do next. 
His handwriting fits him, a cursive hybrid scrawl of letters, as if he struggled to keep with the thoughts that spilled from his mind to the paper. You find every page was nearly filled, front and back, with a poetry pose that flowed; the subject, his words had a theme and the realization had you crimson. 
It was you. 
You fell back to sit on the edge of your bed, thinking and replaying every intimate moment shared, how it transcribed to his written words and how you had been blind to understand the meaning behind his words sung. You classified what you two shared as friendship, frightened to try for something else, especially when it had seemed unattainable before, but now…
The one consistent thing was that Aegon was your peace, he was your comfort personified with his beautiful, bright eyes and the smile that would pluck the strings of your heart with every song he had ready on his lips. You appreciated him and you were scared to ever ask for something more, to push him for something and he would pull away and be lost to you. 
You now held his journal, in his own words you finally understood from his perspective, he was the one carrying feelings that were unreciprocated but he had contentment to be a friend for you and nothing more, if it allowed him to forever be a part of your life. 
Your grip ached your fingers, a renewed passion that burned away the anxiety that hid in the shadows, and you stood up again, your each step determined, but still soft. His door was closed, but you see his light is on and pooled below; your nails gently tapped and you heard his muffled acknowledgement. 
Aegon was laying face down on his bed, his face buried in his pillow but he twisted to face you. His eyes met with yours and he was quick to sit upright, a look of recognition to his features.
He always seemed to be so aware of you.
“Aegon,” you breathed, a smile on your lips and the realization you had no word prepared with your semi-grand entrance. Your eyes looked around his room, an organized mess to his belongings and his scent touching everything. You realized you always allowed him into your space, but never asked to venture into his own. 
He pushed himself from the bed and moved towards you, watchful of your response as he drew closer. 
He was always astutely aware, respectful of your boundaries that you set with your subtle mannerisms. He saw your stance, how your hands were white with the hold on his journal, how your tongue wet your lips as you struggled for the words. “I… need to get you a new journal. This one is nearly full.”
His smile is warm and kind, as always. “I always have inspiration, so I am full of ideas.” 
You hummed. “Could I… I always sleep better with you at my side. Do you mind if I sleep in your bed tonight?”
Aegon looked at you and your heart melted within your chest, unable to collect itself when he closed the distance between you. His hands were careful to cup your jaw, rough from the calluses of guitar strings but still gentle, and he pressed his lips to your own.
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waterlilyrose · 11 months
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To Build A Home
Anthony Bridgerton is missing.
His family hunts for him with the mounting certainty something terrible has happened to him.
Three things soon comes to light.
1. Anthony is alive.
2. He can't remember anything that happened before the accident.
3. If it means he has to leave behind his saviour and the woman he's determined to marry, he's not going back, thanks very much!
Thanks to @stars-of-kyber for the amazing moodboard and for everything really.
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tinkabelle24 · 4 days
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Our first ever commission 🥰
Well, first paid commission 😅 I still have that Valentine's portrait you drew for me way back when ♥️
The red-banded terrapin paused to side-eye Val, who was grinning slyly at him from behind her lashes. Her eyes bugged out when he suddenly snapped toward her, arms outstretched. “I’ll take that hug now-”
"Don’t you dare!” She immediately fled around the dining table, desperate to put some distance between herself and the incoming terrapin. “Get away! Stop! Raph, no... I mean it- ah!”
Donnie and Mikey leapt back, cackling as their brother proceeded chasing the squealing woman around the kitchen. He cornered her almost immediately, leaning into her palm pressed against his plastron.
“I’m dead serious.” Val warned, playfully staring him down. “Come any closer and I’ll smack you.”
~ TBaH, Chapter 11: Into The Light
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Thank you so much @android-cap-007 for bringing my story to life 🫂♥️
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octothorpetopus · 8 months
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brick by brick
black sails (2014) / “here i dreamt I was an architect” by the decemberists / “to build a home” by the cinematic orchestra
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fountainpenscribbles · 5 months
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Inspired by To Build a Home by RedPowder!
As always my stuff can never compare to the beautiful words of the authors that gift me inspiration!
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freneticfloetry · 8 months
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to build a home: chapter 3
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"We're married," TK says against his mouth. "You're mine." Carlos hums. "Well that part was always true. We just went and made it all official."
Oh my god, it's done.
I don't even know what to say. Except that I'm really proud of it, and grateful that it's complete and out in the world the way I intended, and I'm so very sorry for the final word count, both for this chapter and the fic overall. Looking back, there's really no other way I would've done it — the structure was built around the scenes, and the scenes were built around the story, and this is very much the story I wanted to tell.
@ambiguouspenny is the best fic cheerleader a girl could ever ask for, and I dedicate every one of these ridiculous last words to them.
I hope you enjoy, and that it was worth the wait.
Read Chapter Three on AO3
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soft4gguk · 2 years
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to build a home
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
interlude: Blue
chapter four
interlude: faces
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
interlude: a sunday feeling
chapter nine
interlude: yes in a heartbeat
chapter ten
interlude: answers
chapter eleven
interlude: youth
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latch-oh · 4 months
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// on home //
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youtube
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vital-information · 6 months
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"What I really realized about some of my ideas of freedom is that they were like neoliberal fantasies. It's like, 'let me choose everything,' 'leave me alone all the time,' 'don't put any demands on me--only I will make demands.' It's a dark vision, and it really took me a long time to understand that the things that I'd been taught by the capitalist 80s to believe were unfreedom are freedom. Having people who mean something to you, who you have duties towards, is not unfreedom; it's freedom. It's actual existence...To be free of meaning is not freedom. Now my life is full of meanings, sometimes they're difficult, sometimes they're painful, but it's absolutely full. I don't think children are the only root to that kind of meaning, but I absolutely think you have to find something other than yourself to focus on.
...
When I meet a lot of other lady writers, I know, when we first had children we spent our whole time talking about how we were somehow trapped or imprisoned, but that's the most superficial idea of what a relation with other people is like. Now I consider all my relations--my friends, my dog, my husband, my family--as things that liberate me from myself. They are absolute freedom to me, and without them I would just be completely lost. A dog can do this for you, a cat can do this for you, going down to the larder and volunteering can do this for you. You just need to be among other people at some point, because otherwise it's hard to find in yourself (or for me anyway) a reason to go on.
...
It's a question of what does that freedom involve. I notice with the 'children thing' is that, at least in my own case, you spend so long battling to try and retain your own space. Then, when you look at what you've battled for, it isn't very much. These children are about to grow and disappear so quickly that you're going to get what you want sooner than you can imagine. All of these things are so out of sync with our capitalist discourse which is about 'you do you,' 'get what you want.' When it comes into conflict with this other thing, I guess we have in our heads, 'Am I become some kind of Victorian or old-fashioned person who is domesticated and a traditional woman.' We fight against that as if there's no liberating version of being connected to other people. That is the triumph of capitalism: it convinces you that it's just you and the shops, it's just you and the phone, and that's all that there is. Where there is an older vision of solidarity between people, within families, between children, between men and men, women and women, men and women--a community that is freeing. It's not a trap. It's like the only thing that brings joy.
...
I also think that's one of the tricks of the patriarchy: it makes you feel that all the traditional, supposedly feminine arts are humiliating. But why are they humiliating? In my house, it was the other way around. My dad was the cook. My dad was the cleaner. My mom was working a lot. My dad did a lot of those things. They're not humiliating when a man does them, apparently--[Interviewer Annie Macmanus: They're noble.]--He's been dead a long time, and sometimes, I can think of a meal he used to cook me, and it will bring me to tears. It was an art. And it was nourishing. And it was beautiful. And I'm so grateful. It was an act of love. I can't cook like that. My children will never have those memories of me. But, it's not nothing. It's the art of living. If it was a supposedly traditionally male art, you'd be getting awards for it...So I really resent the idea that these things are humiliating, even when I am picking up pants off the stairs, I think, 'I'm doing something for somebody else.' There is something noble in that, I hope.
Of course, the frustration is real. I think men suffer it just as much as women. I think to the credit of many contemporary men, they are doing absolutely the same amount of work...So the frustration is no longer purely female, which might be one of the triumphs of feminism. It's now something that lots of people have to experience, men and women. It's not that it's not real, but I have come to realize that [the frustration]'s not entirely debilitating. When it comes to art making, frustration can be really useful. Not being able to write, having your hands tied for part of every day, when I get down to my desk, I can't wait. Whereas when I was twenty-seven, I do remember embarrassingly moping around saying, 'Oh, I've got writer's block,' 'Oh, I've got ennui.' That to me now is like a comic thing, a ridiculous person who can't be taken seriously."
Zadie Smith, interviewed on Changes with Annie Macmanus
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To Build A Home ended so good!! Now on to Hautley's Bend.
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alltheoutcasts · 3 months
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Time to reread to build a home
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waterlilyrose · 10 months
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To Build A Home
Enormous thank you to @mimix007 for making me this beautiful moodboard for my latest obsession (or fanfic). It's so perfect.
New update is coming later today.
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