hi!!! one of my friends in the code geass fandom is facing homelesness, my buddy Mari got kicked out of his house because he refused to detransition. he's a 18 y/o ghanian trans man living in the UK and needs funds to keep himself afloat! i wouid really appreciate if y'all could help him 💜💜💜
Become a supporter of mari today!
he's an extremely talented and sweet guy and i hate to see him in such difficult times. please help him!
Synopsis~ Satoru Gojo never noticed you. You were just the ugly duckling cousin of the prettiest girl in the neighborhood, maybe even the entire city. But the Gojo that returns from war is different. Eyes to bright, smile too tight. This Gojo finds you fascinating.
Tropes~ One Sided Love, she fell first, he fell harder. Forced relationship?
Tw/Cw~ WW2, mentions of war, dark themes. Sexisim (not from Gojo)
Author's Note~ I just realized how writing a Japanese character during WW2 may be perceived. I do not intend to minimize or change history. My great grandfather died because injuries he got fighting in the pacific. Gojo plays the part of a Japanese American soldier, which did exists though they are often looked over. I would never write anything supporting the Japanese empire, Gojo will be fighting for the allies.
Divider by @/saradika-graphics
Some people are born with everything. Brains, looks, money. You were one of the poor souls who hadn’t been born with any of those. But you did have family. An aunt who hosted socials and whose lipstick was never smudged. An uncle who spent his mornings at the bank and his weekends at the country club golfing with his bosses. A cousin who was the prettiest girl in the whole neighborhood, maybe even the city. Mable was the type of pretty that made men stop and stare from across the street. She was popular too; she was in every club and committee back in high school.
You leaned against the bannister. At least you had family. You weren’t entirely sure what you were going to do now that you were out of high school. You had always figured you would be married by now or at least have a beaux and a prospect of marriage and security. You were pretty sure your aunt and uncle didn’t know what to do with you either. You could find a job, but you wouldn’t earn enough to support yourself. Maybe I can meet someone at a job. You could imagine him, tall with light hair and blue eyes. He should have blue eyes. He would be a regular at the soda shop you worked at (because of course you would work at a soda shop!) He would have an un-godly amount of sugar, and you would shake your head, while he grinned at you over the counter. Eventually he’d take you out, and treat you like a lady. Then you’d marry him and live in a nice house, not too big like your aunt’s, or so old where you could feel the ghosts watching you.
A car pulled in, you could hear it from the rumble of the motor. You straightened up and stood as quick as you could. You rushed up the stairs. You could hear your aunt calling to Mable, telling her she’d greet Satoru while Mable freshened up.
You made it to your room. Quickly, you slapped yourself across both cheeks to bring out some color. You opened your music box and pulled out the blackberry you’d hidden that morning from breakfast. You let some juice colour your lips, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You knew better. Aunt liked fresh faced girls, and she’d tell you she’d never seen Mable doing such a thing. Well, you didn’t have Mable’s looks.
You walked calmly down the stairs, your heart thudding in your chest.
Your aunt said your name. “Go help Amelia get the table set.” Amelia was your aunt’s maid. She was nice enough, but you had thought that you might get to entertain Satoru with the rest of the family before supper.
“Yes ma’am,” you said, nodding.
“Oh, and wash that off your mouth, dear. I didn’t raise no hussy.”
Shame curdles your excitement. You help Amelia silently while she chatters about how her beaux is getting shipped out to the Pacific in a week or two. She didn’t know because his letters were full of marks where the army had blotted out stuff she wasn’t supposed to know. Eventually you join the family at the table. Only your aunt acknowledges you, her eyes darting to your lips to make sure you had done as she said. Your uncle is staring down at his salad, probably thinking about shares and stocks, or whatever bankers think about. Satoru is staring into Mable’s pretty brown eyes.
They look good together, brown curls and chocolaty brown eyes, against snow white hair and eyes bluer than blue. They're in love. The realization seeps into your skin like the summer sun. Satoru is going to marry Mable. And you’ll be there, Mable will probably ask you to be one of her bridesmaids even though you aren’t that close. Satoru will be wearing his uniform, because all the fellows have signed up by now. Even Satoru, he’d signed up to fly planes, you’d overheard him bragging to some of his followers.
The realization follows you the entire evening. But when the night closes and Mable and Satoru are standing at the front door, you remember. You rush upstairs and open the little music box on your nightstand. You pull out the little paper and hold it tight. You went out the back door and around the yard to the front yard. Mable’s already gone back in. You know she’ll be in the sitting room on the telephone telling her best friend about everything that happened that night.
He’s walking to his car when you catch up to him.
“Satoru, wait,” you huff, reaching out,
He turns, brows furrowed. He looks at you for a second like he doesn’t recognize you. Then he smiles. The one people give to a kid they want to go away. Satoru sticks his hands in his pockets, peering down at you.
“I know you’re shipping out soon, so I wanted to give you this.” You rush out saying. You extend your hand, the paper clasped between the tips of your fingers.
“What is it?” He asks, his hands still in his pockets.
“I painted the stars. I know the stars are different out there,” You look up at him. “I wanted to give you a piece of home - I heard you tell that Nanami boy that you want to study physics - so I -”
He cuts you off. “Physics isn’t astronomy, idiot,” his lips curl and though he doesn’t say anything else, his face practically screams “look at the idiot kid who doesn’t know anything.”
You feel like an idiot. You should be anywhere but here. You don’t say anything else, the silence just sort of sits in the air.
Satoru frowns. “Hey, don’t look like that - I’ll take it,” he says. He reaches and grabs the paper, shoving it into his pocket.
Your heart soars. He took it! His hands touched something your own hands had made. You beam at him.
“Be safe I - we’ll be waiting for you.”
You turn and flee like a child. Your cheeks are hot, from the exhilaration, the humiliation, and maybe even the thrill of being acknowledged.
If you’d turned back, you would have even his form illuminated in the street lamps. Watching you, his face unreadable, hands tucked in his pockets. After a minute, he turns and walks to his car, his hands still in his pockets.
You lay awake that night, curled up and giddy. For a few hours you felt like the hussy your aunt thought you were. You had promised yourself to never look at Satoru that way again, he was Mable’s fellow - her future husband. Then the next few hours, you giggled to yourself and imagined yourself as the one Satoru would come home to after the war.
Contrary to popular belief, Satoru doesn’t marry Mable before he ships out, he doesn’t even propose to her or make her any promises he can’t keep. He kisses and promises her he’ll write. You knew that because you overheard her telling her best friend.
The years pass, Mable gets even prettier, you get a job. You work at a factory, you wouldn't have been allowed to before the war, but every woman must do her part. Satoru Gojo slips from your mind, and Mable’s she meets a navy officer on medical leave. Before he ships back out they marry. You’re her bridesmaid of course.
Life moves on. When Mable mentions one day offhandedly that the fellow she used to see, Satoru, you remember him? He had been missing and assumed dead, shot down somewhere over the pacific.
You set your fork down. You close your eyes and say a little prayer. Memories of him come flooding back, it's been three years though. You have put away the dreams of little girls, but still, no one wants the fairytale prince of their dreams dead. Either eaten by sharks, or dead on impact, or worse a prisoner of war. You’ve heard the rumours, seen the articles about what they do to pows on the pacific front. He’d be better off dead then in one of those camps.
Please come home, Satoru. Come see our stars again.
A man looks up, his hollow face glares up at the stars. Starvation has made him see and hear things before, but he thinks he really did see her. She was eating king cake, grinning at him. “Come on, come home to me.” He stands wincing, the scars in his back have grown infected, and any movement sends pain shooting across his body.
He’ll go home. He has to. And when he does, he’ll take what should be his by right.
꒰ 𓏲๋࣭࣪˖🌷.ᐟ Satoru Gojo is the loudest, prettiest boy on campus — and secretly the biggest nerd you've ever met. You make a list of twenty ways to make him yours. It works better than expected. ꒱
ᘛ ꒰ satoru gojo x reader | university au | fluff, crack-ish, mutual pining, 3.4k wc. no real warning, this is pure fluff. art by @/to00fu dividers by @uzmacchiato and @pixopix ྀིა
Gojo Satoru did not look like a nerd. That was the first thing you had to get past.
He was six-foot-three, white hair that looked like he'd bleached it out of spite, and a jawline that made underclassmen forget how to walk in straight lines. So the first time you sat next to him in Intro to Theoretical Physics and watched him correct the TA's derivation on the whiteboard— politely, cheerfully, in a way that made the TA visibly reconsider their choice of career— you assumed it was a fluke. A pretty boy who got lucky on one problem set.
It was not a fluke. It happened every single week.
By week four you knew: underneath the sunglasses he wore indoors "for the bit," underneath the easy charm and the way he called everyone "sweetheart" like it cost him nothing, Gojo was the single biggest nerd you had ever met in your life. He annotated his textbooks in four colors. He had a ranked opinion on which university library floor had the best "ambient silence." He once spent twenty minutes explaining the Fermi paradox to a girl at a party who had asked him, literally, where the bathroom was.
And somehow, against every instinct you had about self-preservation, you'd fallen for him anyway.
The problem was that Gojo Satoru was completely, catastrophically oblivious to the fact that you liked him. Not because he was dumb— the man had a 4.0 and could recite pi to sixty digits when he was nervous— but because emotional self-awareness was, apparently, the one subject he'd never taken.
So you did what any reasonable person would do. You made a list.
Not a real list, not at first— just something you texted your roommate at 1 a.m. after he'd walked you back to your dorm and then said "anyway, goodnight, study buddy!" like a golden retriever who'd just learned the word "goodnight." But it grew. Item by item, week by week, you built yourself a plan. A syllabus, if you wanted to be annoying about it. A plan for how to make a nerd— your nerd, if you had anything to say about it– fall for you back.
Here's what the list looked like, three weeks later, mostly executed and slightly out of order:
1. Ask him to explain something you already understand
Not because you need it explained. Because Gojo lights up like a Christmas tree the second someone asks him a real question, and there is nothing in this world cuter than a six-foot-three man drawing a diagram of quantum entanglement on a napkin at 9 p.m. because you asked "wait, but how does that actually work?" He'll talk for eleven minutes straight. You will not understand half of it. You will not care.
2. Bring him coffee exactly the way he takes it, without asking.
Oat milk, two sugars, and— this is important— he needs it slightly too hot, because he likes complaining that it burned his tongue and then drinking it anyway. The first time you showed up to your study session with his order memorized, he stared at the cup for a solid five seconds like you'd handed him a diamond instead of a four-dollar latte.
"You remembered," he said, and for once he didn't sound like he was performing anything.
"It's not that hard, Satoru."
"No," he agreed, still staring at the cup. "I guess it's not."
3. Steal his hoodie and never give it back.
This one is less a strategy and more just theft, but the effect is the same. You took it during a group project when the library air conditioning decided finals week was a personal vendetta, and you simply forgot to return it. He noticed. He did not ask for it back. He instead started "accidentally" leaving other sweaters at your dorm, like he was building a small collection of hostages in reverse.
4. Beat him at something. Anything.
Gojo has never lost gracefully in his life. He is aggressively, hilariously competitive about things that do not matter, like Mario Kart, or who can name more moons of Saturn, or whose flashcards are better organized. Beat him once— just once— and watch a switch flip behind his eyes. He will demand a rematch. He will demand several rematches. He will, three rematches later, forget that he is supposed to be trying to win and just start trying to make you laugh instead.
5. Notice the thing he's insecure about, and don't make a big deal of it.
Underneath the confidence, Gojo has Opinions about his own eyes— the pale blue, the way people stare, the way strangers sometimes ask invasive questions like he's a museum exhibit. You noticed early that the sunglasses weren't entirely a bit. So you never once commented on his eyes unless it was in passing, the same way you'd mention someone's nice handwriting. Ordinary. Unremarkable. Just a fact about him, not a headline.
He clocked that you'd clocked it. He didn't say anything. But he started taking the glasses off around you more.
6. Let him info-dump. Then remember what he said.
Two weeks after the Fermi paradox incident, you asked him— out of nowhere, mid-lecture— "okay but statistically, if the paradox holds, doesn't that actually support the idea that we're early, not alone?" He turned to look at you like you'd grown a second head. A good second head.
"You remembered that?"
"You explained it for twenty minutes to a stranger looking for the bathroom. Of course I remembered."
7. Make him carry something heavy for you.
Not because you need the help. Because there is a specific, devastating satisfaction in watching Gojo Satoru— who could probably bench-press the entire physics department— insist on carrying your grocery bags, your laundry basket, your six textbooks, all at once, while pretending it's nothing, while very obviously flexing about it.
8. Show up to his study group uninvited and stay anyway.
He runs a Tuesday night study group that is, allegedly, "for anyone who wants to come," but somehow the same three terrified freshmen show up every week and leave within the hour because Gojo cannot resist turning every session into a TED talk. You started showing up too. You did not leave within the hour. By the third week, he'd started saving you a seat next to him without being asked— the one by the outlet, because he'd noticed your laptop charger was fraying.
9. Text him something dumb at 2 a.m. and let him overthink his reply.
You know this one works because your roommate is somehow also friends with his roommate, and the intel came back within the hour: Gojo spent eleven minutes composing a response to your "ok but if a vending machine gains sentience is it a philosophical zombie or just annoying" text. Eleven minutes. For a joke. He sent back four different drafts before landing on one, and it was still unhinged.
10. Compliment his handwriting, not his face
He gets told he's hot approximately nine times a day, by everyone, including strangers on the bus. It means nothing to him anymore— it's just weather. But tell him his lecture notes are genuinely, freakishly beautiful— every equation boxed, every margin annotated in four colors like he's illuminating a medieval manuscript— and watch him go quiet in a way he never does when someone calls him pretty.
11. Let him see you fail at something.
Gojo doesn't actually want a girl who has it together 100% of the time— he wants someone real, though it took you a while to realize that. The night you completely bombed a presentation and cried a little in the stairwell after, he didn't try to fix it or hype you up with empty noise. He just sat down on the concrete step next to you in his very expensive jeans and said, "okay, worst professor you've ever had, go," and let you complain until you'd laughed the tears away.
12. Ask about his family. Actually listen.
He deflects hard whenever anyone brings up the Gojo name, the money, the expectations. Most people either fawn over it or pretend it doesn't exist. You did neither— you just asked, once, gently, "is it heavy? Carrying all that?" and let the silence sit instead of filling it. He didn't answer for a full minute. Then he told you more than he'd told anyone all semester. He told you about his twin.
13. Give him a nickname that isn't about how he looks.
Everyone calls him "Six Eyes" as some ironic school-wide joke about how much he supposedly sees. You started calling him "Professor" instead, low and teasing, every time he got insufferable about a fact nobody asked for. He complained about it constantly. He also, notably, never asked you to stop.
14. Show up to his dumb extracurricular thing
He's in the university's astronomy club, which meets on the roof of the science building at ungodly hours to look at things you cannot see because of light pollution. You went once, mostly out of curiosity, and ended up going every month after, wrapped in his stolen hoodie (see: item 3), while he pointed at smudges in the sky and insisted, with total conviction, that one of them was definitely Saturn.
"That's a plane, Satoru."
"It's Saturn, and I won't be taking questions."
15. Get jealous. Badly. On purpose.
You are not proud of this one, but it worked, so it's staying on the list. A guy from your seminar started sitting suspiciously close to you during group work, and Gojo— usually the most chill, unbothered person alive— suddenly developed a burning need to sit in on your seminar "for fun." He is not enrolled in your seminar. He does not need to be there. He was there anyway, arms crossed, radiating an aura your professor mistook for academic passion.
16. Take care of him when he forgets to take care of himself.
For someone so smart, Gojo is disastrous at remembering to eat during midterms. You started leaving snacks in his backpack without telling him— protein bars, the specific brand of gum he chews when he's anxious, a note sometimes. He never mentioned it directly. He just started leaving you snacks back, an unspoken little economy of care neither of you would put a name to yet.
17. Let him walk you home even when you don't need it.
It's fifteen minutes out of his way. He does it every time anyway, sunglasses off, hands in his pockets, talking the entire walk about nothing and everything, and you've started timing your goodnights to be a little longer than they need to be.
18. Catch him staring, and don't look away first.
It happened in the library, over a stack of shared notes— you looked up and he was already looking, not at your notes, at you, and for once in his entire dramatic life he didn't have a single word ready. You didn't look away. Neither did he. Somebody's highlighter rolled off the table and neither of you moved to catch it.
19. Tell him, out loud, that you like the nerd version of him best.
Not the flirt. Not the golden retriever performing for a crowd. The version that gets quiet and intense over a whiteboard, that memorizes the digits of pi when he's anxious, that lit up over a napkin diagram because someone finally asked him a real question. You told him this on the roof, under his fake Saturn, and he went so still you thought you'd broken him.
20. Kiss him first.
Because he will never, ever make the first move— not out of fear, but because some small, stupid, sincere part of him doesn't believe someone like you would actually want someone like him, underneath all the noise. So you have to be the one. You kiss him on the roof, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, his ridiculous fake constellation still glowing faintly behind him, and he makes a sound against your mouth like every ounce of composure he's ever performed just short-circuited at once.
When you pull back he's staring at you the way he stares at a problem he's finally solved— stunned, delighted, a little smug that he got there at all.
"Say something smart, Professor," you tell him, breathless.
"Give me a second," he says. "You broke my working memory."
1. Humans say ‘ow’, even if they haven’t actually been hurt. It’s just a thing they say when they think they might have been hurt, but aren’t sure yet.
2. Humans collect shiny things and decorate their bodies and nests with them. The shinier the better, although each individual has a unique taste for style and colouring
3. Humans are not an aquatic or even amphibious species, but they flock to bodies of water simply to play in it. They can’t even hold their breath all that long; they just love to splash!
4. When night falls and the sky goes dark, humans become drowsy and begin to cocoon themselves in soft, fluffy bedding.
5. Some humans spend time in each other’s nests! Just for fun! It’s not their nest; they’re just visiting each other.
6. Some humans use pigments and dyes to make their bodies flashy and colourful! They even attach shiny dangly bits to their cartalidgous membranes!
7. Humans are very clever, and sometimes adopt creatures from other species into their family units. They don’t seem to notice the obvious differences, and often raise them alongside their own young!
8. If a human sees another creature in distress, they can commonly be observed trying to help! Even at their own risk, most humans are deeply compassionate creatures!
9. If a human hears a particularity catchy sound or tune, it will often mimic it, even to the point of annoying themselves!
10. Sneezes are entirely involuntary, and completely adorable. Especially when the human in question becomes frustrated
11. Humans love treats!!! Some more than others. Many humans will save these treats specifically for a later date when they are in need of comfort or reassurance. IE, pickles, pop tarts, Popsicles, etc
12. They’re learning to travel in space!!! They can’t get very far, but they’re trying!!! So far, they’ve made it to the end of their yard, and have found rocks
snowghoul
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
stormborns
gummygunk
turnnoffyourmind
