My Hobbies Include Daydreaming About Romance And Loving The Color Pink

my hobbies include daydreaming about romance and loving the color pink

songs of longing - pt. 1 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

gojo satoru ft. suguru geto

synopsis ⋆˙⟡ gojo watches from the sidelines as you fall in love with his best friend, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions upon realising his feelings for you. in the wake of your lover’s passing, he wrestles with his yearning to confess his love, feeling torn between honoring his loyalty to suguru and pursuing his own desires.

chapter contents ⋆˙⟡ angst, fluff if you squint hard enough, mild violence (sparring with geto)

notes ⋆˙⟡ it’s finally out! the first part to my mini series and probably the longest thing i've written in a long while so i hope you guys like it! i'm also gonna be pretty busy in the coming weeks but i'll try to get the remaining parts out asap

enjoy! ‧₊˚✩

gojo is first introduced to you when you're seven years of age, a year his junior, all winsome and toothless as he chases you through the corridors of his expansive abode.

his pale blue yukata flutters in the wind, giving life to the pattern of dragonflies that decorate the fabric. the pitter patter of feet on mahogany echoes through the hallways, your laughter a vast contrast to the otherwise solemn calm.

the gojos were one of three esteemed jujutsu sorcerer families, and perhaps the most regimented of the bunch.

for every new batch of sorcerers brought into the world, there came a need to celebrate. it was tradition for gatherings to be held in recognition of the approaching generation, typically hosted by one of the three main families.

despite its optimistic intentions, you felt nothing but the palpable atmosphere of tension between families, evident in their ice-cold stares, and faux smiles. what it really was, was an opportunity for gossip, whispers of which clans had succeeded in birthing capable heirs, and which had not, weaving their way through conversations and sparking the flames of speculation.

you had long since grown bored of listening to your parents engage in small talk with the other families, having left the crowd of people, marveled by the sheer size of the gojo residence.

your fascination with the unfamiliar territory had you tiptoeing around the labyrinth of passageways, passing by a few rooms, some of which had been left open wide enough for you to peek inside.

an odd looking keychain lying haphazardly on the floor catches your attention as you wandered the halls. you moved to pick it up, dangling it in front of your face to get a closer look before continuing on. it was then that you’d felt a presence close by, turning a corner and peeking out from behind a wall in hopes of uncovering the source.

it was a boy, no taller than you were, with silver hair and cerulean eyes, staring right back at you. he seemed apprehensive as he took a step forward, and you guessed that the toy had belonged to him.

you grinned cheekily as you took off, grasping the little thing in your hands as the boy gave chase, bringing you to the present moment.

“give it back!” he demands, and you turn to see him hot on your tail.

“i will!” you yell back, holding the toy above your head and slowly coming to a halt, raising your arms in surrender, “i just wanna see how it works!” the toy in question being a small rectangular device, translucent with a keyring hanging off one end. it had three little buttons alongside a small window of a screen.

"what is it?" you ask, baffled, your lips forming an 'o'.

the boy rolls his eyes as he stomps over to you, pointing at the toy. "that's a digimon virtual pet," he says matter-of-fact, crossing his arms over his chest to try and seem intimidating, unsure of your intentions.

you fiddle with the buttons, watching the pixels dance on screen to form little creatures. “woah,” you gawk in childish wonder, the boy allowing himself a moment to relax, intrigued by your genuine bewilderment.

“cool, huh?” he raises a brow, eyeing you from head to toe, and when he doesn’t sense any form of ill intent from you, he takes a step closer.

you pay him no mind, watching enthusiastically as a creature comes on screen, leaving a swirl of black pixels in its wake. “it’s pooping,” you giggle, bringing the device up to his face to show him as if it weren’t his to begin with. “look!”

he laughs, truly amused by your blitheness as he takes the device into his hands. “if you think that’s cool,” he pauses, fidgeting with the toy, “watch this!”

the suspense has you hovering over his shoulder on your tippy toes, watching as the little creatures stand in opposition, the words “battle” filling the screen.

“satoru,” another voice calls out, both of you whipping your heads to find a young woman clad in a yukata, her pale complexion complimenting the snowy white fabric of her garment. she gestures for him with a gentle flick of the wrist, a smile gracing her features

pretty, you think to yourself.

the boy turns back to you and shoves the toy somewhere within the folds of his yukata, and you almost miss the small pout tugging at his bottom lip. you find yourself mirroring his disappointment, knowing you’d have to part ways with your new friend.

the woman turns to face you, her affectionate smile radiating a warmth that makes your heart flutter. “you too, little lady,” she adds, and you perk up, exchanging a look of excitement with the boy as he extends a hand out to you.

“come on,” he beckons, and you reciprocate the gesture, placing your little hand in his before shaking it.

“i'm gojo satoru,” he tells you, keeping his gaze ahead in an attempt to seem stern and confident, like a grown up. but he flashes you a boyish grin when you tell him your name, both of you trailing behind the woman as you make your way back to the hall.

——————

four years later, gojo tells you that you’re his best friend, his cheeks flushed and his gaze averted.

you've come to witness the effects of his stringent upbringing as the era’s strongest sorcerer, his family's uncompromising nature being the main factor.

it was always training first, second, third; then whatever fleeting pockets of time he had left were spent trying to live as much of a normal childhood as he could.

it's no wonder he can be a little stoic at times, overtly disciplined for his age. he’s slowly growing out of it though, thanks to your influence and the incessant need to break him out of his shell.

“you’ve got all the time in the world to be boring when we’re all grown up,” you’d said to him.

he's grown about half a head taller than you since the time you first met, not entirely sure when that had happened, but you continue to hope that you'd get there too.

you're humming a tune, cotton candy in hand as you navigate through the throng of people, bright lights and festive music filling your senses. satoru follows closely behind you, busying himself with what was likely to be his third mizuame of the day.

“what a time to be alive,” you breathe, enjoying the gentle breeze on your skin.

your friend hums in agreement, pulling back the sleeves of his navy yukata to avoid getting them dirty. unsurprisingly, the sweet tooth has his hands (and mouth) full.

you love going to festivals, never failing to take it up as an opportunity to dress yourself in pretty garments, all the while indulging in the many treats that lined the streets of japan.

the both of you take turns deciding on what to feast on next, stopping at almost every yatai and ogling at the mouthwatering fares. you don’t miss out on the games either, always somehow turning it into a competition between the both of you.

he wins, of course. every single time, much to your dismay.

you tut, popping a dango into your mouth as the boy walks alongside you, his hands brimming with the prizes he's won. you hadn't even noticed it getting darker, the sun having set behind the clouds, the canopy of night adorning little flecks of white that light up the sky.

you slow, noticing a crowd of people stopping to peer up at the sky, the words “fireworks” reaching your ears. your grumpy expression soon washes over, an ear-splitting smile taking it’s place as you whip your head to face your puzzled looking friend.

“it’s starting, it’s starting!” you squeal, buzzing with excitement as you grab onto his arm, careful not to squeeze him too hard as you lead him to a good spot atop a small grassy hill.

you make it just in time as the velvety sky erupts into a mix of bright colours, booms resounding from the fireworks above. your mouth hangs open in awe, wide eyes reflecting the vibrant colours illuminating the sky.

satoru smiles, his boyish grin spreading across his face as silver strands dance around his forehead. “so cool,” he almost whispers, clearly enjoying the show just as much as you are.

“aren’t you glad i brought you along?” you ask, a proud smile on your face.

satoru taps a finger to his chin, humming as he pretends to think. “maybe,” he drawls.

“well, you’re welcome,” you say, smugly. your response has him rolling his eyes, sticking out his tongue to let out an exaggerated blegh. you reach up to flick his forehead, but find yourself stopping a mere few inches away from his face, pushing against the repulsive force of his infinity that keeps you from reaching him.

“that's not fair!”

“it's okay to admit you're jealous, y'know. i won’t judge."

"dick."

you take it back, you much preferred it when he was quiet.

"thank you," he says more seriously now, still keeping his gaze fixed on the sky. his words are enough to knock you out of your annoyance as you turn to face him.

he finds your gaze, and there's a softness in his eyes, something you don’t see very often, the explosion of colours in the sky reflecting off his face like a watercolour painting.

he looks away again, and he’s thankful you can’t see the tinge of pink that tints his cheeks under the low lighting.

pretty, you find yourself thinking, just as you had years ago. but you’d never tell him that. he doesn’t need the ego boost.

“for being my best friend.”

you're used to his usual attitude and snarky remarks, but it's always a little surprising whenever he gets like this, seemingly out of the blue.

you almost miss it, his words coming out in a soft murmur. you blink once, twice, opening your mouth to say something but you’re at a loss for words. your heart swells with something you’re not entirely sure of, but thankfully, gojo clears his throat, returning to his usual boyish demeanour and saying, “can we get back to the food now?”

——————

time seems to fly as you both find yourselves in your first year at jujutsu high, accompanied by two other students in your year; a brunette with short, tousled hair, accentuated by a subtle beauty mark beneath her right eye. the other was a taller male, similar in height to satoru, his long, dark hair often pulled back into a bun. his ears bore the faint stretch of black gauges, adding an edge to his appearance.

you don't know when you first started to notice, but you liked talking to geto; his voice was mellow, a soothing lullaby to your ears. you’ve got a (not so small) crush on him, you’ll admit, finding comfort in his presence like a warm blanket that shielded you from the cold.

he's so different, yet similar to your white-haired friend all at the same time. the latter had taken a liking to him rather quickly. despite all the bickering, they share an underlying endearment, with gojo looking to him as a kind of moral compass.

the four of you had been training together for the last couple of months, today being no different as you take turns sparring each other on the school field.

shoko takes her usual spot under a tree, perfectly content with sitting out. you don't mind it though, knowing combat wasn’t something she’s ever really been interested in, given her role as your team’s resident healer.

"c’mon, we don't have all day!" satoru nags, round tinted glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose, a new thing to help keep him from overexerting his six eyes.

they’re stylish and fitting for him, you think.

"you ready?" geto asks, snapping you out of your train of thought.

"’course i am," you bite back, playfully. he responds with a smile, and your breath hitches in your throat. damn it.

"loser pays for dinner!" gojo chimes in, shoko echoing after him as he signals the start of your fight.

you roll your eyes, lunging towards your opponent. he doesn't even flinch, stepping aside to summon a low-level curse, which you'd anticipated. you ground yourself before jumping onto it’s back, slicing through the curse with ease and taking the opportunity to push forwards.

your fists collide with geto's as you concentrate on throwing strategic punches, all the while avoiding his. it's hard keeping up, his ability in close combat eclipsing your own. your muscles scream for relief, your body growing tired from the previous matches you’ve had as you leap back to catch your breath.

suguru fixes his posture, inky strands sticking to his forehead, “payin’ for dinner again today?” he teases, and you huff.

“second time in a row!” gojo adds, pursing his lips in a mock kissy face as he wriggles his arms.

you ignore his antics, rushing towards geto once more, sliding yourself between his legs and catching him by surprise as you land a kick to his back. the force has him stumbling forwards and you grab hold of him, preparing to take him down.

in your eagerness, you don’t see a curse he’s summoned as it tackles you to the dirt, leaving you stunned momentarily.

when did he-

the next thing you know, suguru has his hand up against your throat, his fingers ghosting over the skin of your neck to signal the end of your match. you’re praying he doesn’t see the way your face burns a bright red as he lends you hand, pulling you up to your feet with ease.

“gotta work on paying attention,” he says, with that damn smile of his that gives you butterflies. you do nothing but nod, concentrating on steadying your heartbeat as it thumps loudly in your chest.

you pat down your uniform, swiping away the blades of grass that had clung to the fabric, jutting out your bottom lip in a small pout. suguru seems to notice, as he always does, sighing before ruffling your hair.

“we’ll split the bill.”

you look up at him, surprised. you open your mouth to protest, but satoru cuts you off, coming to rest his elbow on your shoulder as he coos.

“oh my hero!”

geto tuts, looking to you as he gestures to gojo, “how’ve you managed to stay friends for so long?”

“bribery,” you say, watching as vivid blue eyes narrow, moonlit eyebrows furrowing in tow, “lots of it.” he scowls with his mouth wide, letting out a loud, “hah?”

——————

“wouldn’t it be weird?”

“nah, why would it?”

“we’re in the same team and all,” geto sighs, leaning back against the bench with an arm propped up on the backrest. “didn’t you practically grow up together?”

satoru shrugs, casually taking a sip of his cola. normally, he’d be the one asking for advice, although he rarely heeded any of it. “i mean, yeah,” he nods, “but you like her don’t you? i’d say to just go for it.”

for reasons unbeknownst to the sorcerer, something in him sinks and with another swig of his carbonated beverage, he swallows the feeling. suguru’s right, you did practically grow up together, your relationship akin to that of siblings, of course he’d feel a little perplexed about his best friends dating each other.

that’s probably what it is.

“i’ll take care of her,” suguru says, his gaze fixed on the floor and voice laced with conviction. satoru’s thankful for the reassurance and smiles, leaning back and bumping a fist to geto’s chest.

“i know.”

part 2 in the works ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

I'm not sure if this is worldwide or not but

Please watch out, this is very disgusting.

I need help I'm looking for a 14 chapter blue lock boxer au fanfic 😭 anyone know it???

I bet my kidneys gun park listens to New jeans 😗😗

He unconsciously whistles super shy. I imagine him whistling and goo's like 🤨😯😮😧😨😌😌😌new blackmail

Okay I so happy I've never seen a Nigerian reader before 😭😭😭 I feel seen

Oh, Odogwu!...⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ft. 42Miles

...₊˚ʚ 🌱 ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

ingredients: sugar, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles!

TWs: Cussin', Outta pocket Miles, Spanish that you CAN'T 'translate'

A/N: Nigerian Reader, but the plot isnt centered around her being Nigerian

You twirled around the hallway, your royal blue ankara print flowing at your sides and arms with every move you made. It was culture day at Brooklyn Visions Academy, and today's one and only goal was to show up and show out for your heritage. There was a Nigerian pin attached to the left side of your dress and another little flag painted on the side of your cheek you had done at the face painting table. There was music blaring from specific areas, beautiful shades of rainbow decorating almost everyone, and an atmosphere of joy and pride consuming the school as everyone scrambled to find their bird of a feather. You had roughly thirty minutes before you all got ready to head to the gym for the assembly and some games, but right now your main focus was finding your man.

There was a loud uproar of male voices coming from the lunchroom, waltzing in to see the entire cafeteria covered in flags of many different countries. It was beautiful, with everyone joining in joyous conversation and proudly exchanging facts about their culture. Amidst the cheerful commotion, you managed to pick out Miles at a large round table, actively engaging in what looked like a heated discussion, making wild gestures with their hands as they spoke like that would solidify their point. You quickly jogged over, mini heels clicking with each step forward. As you got closer, you realized that they most likely weren't arguing due to the occasional laughter and smug grins they sported.

"Si maldito mamabicho y los cerdos hablan-! Oh shit, hey Mama" Miles immediately dropped his sentence, softening his tone as he saw you walk around the table in pursuit of him. He spun around on his chair, hugging you around the waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck and took advantage of this being the only time you'll ever be taller than him. "Ooh, look at my wife. Looking all good in her culture" He muttered, making no effort to hide the fact that he was checking you out. You grinned from ear to ear, doing a little spin and showcasing your beaded earrings as you took in his little outfit. He was wearing a predominately white outfit, with a neat button-up and a red piece of fabric tied around his neck and waist.

"Thank you, thank you!" You giggled as Miles pulled you on his lap, resting his chin on your head. "You look good. Reaaal good. Who you wearin'?" You asked as you leaned back onto Miles's chest. "My Ma. Jibaro pride, baby!" He chuckled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "Yo, Miles. DON'T THINK WE FORGOT CUZ YOUR GIRL PULLED UP!" Some kid yelled at the opposite end of the table, sporting a similar outfit to Miles accompanied by a Puerto Rican and Dominican pin. "Ay, shut that bullshit up I wanna talk to my wife" he giggled, flipping off the poor boy at the end of the table.

"How you feelin', mama? You comfy?" He asked, used to seeing you in baggier or longer clothing. "I got a sweatshirt in my bag if you need it" He reassured. "Yeah, I'm fine! Thank you Obi'm" You smiled, gently holding Miles's hand and brushing over his semi-bruised knuckles as carefully as possible. You let the group entertain each other, feeling Miles stare cupid arrows into the back of your head. "I love this dress on you so much. Like you're really just so pretty" He suddenly stated, hugging you as tightly as humanly possible.

You gasped quietly as Miles lifted you up, silently taking you with him as he walked upstairs to the library. "Ok nigga you didn't have to kidnap me" you joked, clinging onto Miles's shirt while he practically sped through the hall. "I did though. I wanna spend time with my girlfriend, so that's what I'm gonna do" he shrugged, grinning down at you as he kicked open the doors to the library. You sighed, sitting down at one of the library booths and adjusting your pin. "So how's your day been so far Mrs. Morales?" Miles teased, placing a little kiss on the back of your hand and sitting down next to you.

"Ugh, I'm havin' so much fun. I didn't even know we had other African girls here!" You exclaimed as you leaned your head on Miles's shoulder. Miles smiled at your response. He was happy because YOU were happy, he loved seeing that precious smile on your face and would do anything in the world to see it as often as possible. "Yeah, there's an assembly after. They 'sposed to pick niggas out from each area or something and then they're gonna start a competition. You should go up" he shrugged. "HEYYY! You lost it, oh. You think I want to go up in front of the ENTIRE SCHOOL?" You sucked your teeth, judging his audacity with a livid side-eye.

"Tch, you buggin'. You not trynna rep your country in front of the whole school? Insane." He whispered as he slipped his hand in yours, quietly egging you on. "Actually, lemme borrow this real quick" He 'asked' as he took your little green and white pin, stationing it right next to his mini Puerto Rican flag. "I gotchu, don't worry"

"You don't have to, it's fine love!"

"Nah, cuz if my wife has such beautiful culture why would I not wanna show it off?"

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