₊˚⊹。 see me through the morning glow | gojo satoru
wc: 1.0k
summary: you and gojo have a slow morning.
contains: f!reader in mind, suggestive if you squint, food descriptions.
a/n: unedited, i honestly dk what this is i just really needed to get this out of my system! this is how i cope with 236.
re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!
You slip out of bed faced with the promise of sunlight.
The curtains in your bedroom radiate a glow that bounces off the man lying next to you; it’s soft, near-white, almost ethereal, the color of his skin, hair, and bones. His back is exposed, arm reaching out over the (now) empty space beside him—the crinkles and folds where you once were.
You’ve always thought your bedroom had good lighting, and now you can confirm why: in the shadows, deepening the line that runs down his spine; in the highlights, guiding your eyes to the pockets of muscle behind his shoulders.
You look away, trying your best not to stare; the only reason he’s undressed is because of a cold sweat, from the nightmares—and the very need for skin-to-skin, to ground him in your touch.
On mornings like this, you let Gojo sleep in.
(Because you’re lucky if he can fall back asleep again).
It’s slow today—no work, no missions that need you or him. It’s your favorite kind of day, and Gojo’s too (once he wakes up and smells the waffles you’ve prepared, double topped with whipped cream and maple syrup—his special, of course).
A steady stream of warmth flows through the window to your kitchen countertop, the marble glimmering as light hits. The material was his choice; you don’t care much for glamor but Gojo likes pretty things—you especially, he likes to say.
The batter is quick to prepare, a recipe you’ve done many times before, so you ladle it into the waffle maker before letting it set on its own. Then, you grab a pan to heat up, spooning in last night’s leftover rice, some soy sauce, and mirin, adding salt to taste, as needed. A standard fried rice breakfast, with a yolk to mix in later.
The sound of his footsteps are concealed by the sizzles of the pan in front of you, but you’re caught off guard by arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin nestling itself into your shoulder as he nuzzles you.
He’s still shirtless, you notice, so you inch backwards in case of any oil spatter.
“Good sleep?” you mumble, certain that he heard you.
He hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “Not anymore when you left.”
This man—a giant baby, puffed cheeks with long limbs hunched over you.
Your big baby.
Despite his whines, he’s telling the truth, you know, and you feel warm because of it, affection seeping in the cracks between his arms and the kitchen stove.
You blow on a spoonful of rice before lifting it up to his lips. Gojo’s breakfasts are always sweet, but every time you cook, he looks forward to this: waiting right behind you to be fed over your shoulder.
His review will always be the same, of course, everything you touch turns out good.
He reaches for the waffle maker with one hand while the other keeps you close, and you plate his little breakfast for him, whipped cream with little hearts drawn in maple syrup.
You grab a bowl for your rice and sit by the counter, Gojo sitting thigh-to-thigh beside you despite the abundance of space around you.
You realize then, that Gojo tends to hover.
Not necessarily in a bad way, just that, he does it all the time—always wanting to be near.
And for someone so perceiving, practically all-seeing, he doesn’t really have to for him to know what you’re up to, but with every opportunity he has, he never misses a moment to be close to you.
When you wash the dishes by the sink, he stays beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, even when the sink is wide enough to accommodate him a few inches farther.
Even the walk to the bathroom has him tailing you, following your footsteps as he traces the footprints of slow mornings with you.
Your bathroom counter has two sinks, but of course, today, he chooses to stay by yours.
“Skincare?” you raise a tub of face mask.
He doesn’t need it, but you love pampering him, so he nods, whatever you want.
You struggle for a bit (he’s just too tall), so he picks you up by the waist and rests you on the bathroom counter, against the mirror.
He stays in the space between your legs, hands flat against your thighs. His thumb kneads your skin gently, and any other time, this position would end very differently, but there’s a look he’s giving you—all words without speaking.
And—
“Quit staring,” you mumble, turning shy. You’re about to rub the product onto his cheeks, under his eyes.
“What, I can’t look at you?” he moves closer, keeping his eyes locked on you as he rubs circles on your thighs.
“No, you can, but,” you swallow, “you’re looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” his brows furrow.
“Like that.” you sigh, gesturing to his face.
“Like I love you?”
And it is like that. Like he loves you. That’s why he says it so casually.
Because he does.
You stay quiet, stunned, before you clear your throat and finish up the final area on his face.
“Yeah.” you mumble, reaching over to wash your hands on the sink.
Gojo waits for you to finish before he takes a small towel to dry your hands with it.
“As if you don’t know.” he scoffs, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter.
He’s right—it’s been said before, but there’s something else in his eyes right now, shiny and devoted, as if this is all he could ever want. As if you, on this slow morning, in this too-big bathroom is all he could ever need.
But he doesn’t say anything. At least, not what he really means.
“Not my fault you’re so pretty today,” he adds on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
It should be funny, that he’s telling you all this with a mask slathered all over his face, but his compliments always speak to the depths of you, even when you don’t expect them to.
His fingers mold against your cheek, to your ears, down to the back of your head, bringing you closer until he kisses you softly, a gentle peck.
Bits of the face mask transfer to your nose and you giggle, wiping it off.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say.” you joke.
Gojo smiles, that look on his face, “Good for you then, you’re the only one I see.”
re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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Hello sorry for tagging. I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes, I have no medicine or food. I am in bad shape financially, I am a black disabled, who uses multiple medications, I pay for my food and lodging
Unfortunately I do not have all the resources to keep me safe, that is why I need your help, whatever you can contribute to me will be of great help.
Okay kids, are you ready for a lesson in SPOTTING ONLINE SCAMS????
*please don't message this person or harass them-- i do recommend that you report and block them, however.
right now it's incredibly important to give time, attention, and money to online fundraisers. but it's also incredibly important not to let scammers take advantage of that and steal money that could actually save lives right now.
firstly-- if we go to this person's blog, and navigate to "archive--"
this person's blog has only existed for a few days, only has a handful of generic posts (many reblogged multiple times,) and made their first reblog the same day that they posted their "fundraiser" post. this is a MASSIVE red flag.
please also note that neither their ask nor post actually mention palestine or gaza at all, but it's still tagged with "free palestine" and "gaza."
though this one should obviously be taken with a grain of salt, it is also worth noting the poor grammar here, because this can be (but isn't always!!!) another red flag. Note also that all the details are really vague and don't quite make sense... user describes "enduring cold" and their "nose freezing" though it's the middle of the summer. This user says that they're "sick," but doesn't really offer any further details about this. This user says that they need money for "resources," but don't elaborate on what exactly they need. They vaguely elude to a need for lodging, caretakers, and medicine, but don't actually give us any details-- despite this they have a "$1200" goal. What is this specific goal of $1200 for? Is that the cost of their medication? Overdue medical bills? Cost for rent this month?... They also apologize in their ask for "tagging" me... but they didn't tag me. They sent me an ask.
Another red flag is that their link labeled "Fundraiser link" leads directly to a Paypal donation page rather than a gofundme or anything else. If someone chooses to collect aid through paypal, venmo, etc. instead of through a gofundme, that's not a huge issue in and of itself... but it is fishy that it's mislabeled like this.
And if we GOOGLE this user's tumblr name or paypal name, we can find results like this:
This also led me to find them on @/kyra45's blog on their list of current scam accounts.
Despite all this, they have close to 100 reblogs from well-meaning people trying to signal boost and ask for donations on their behalf.
With the current situation in Palestine and the amount of actual, legitimate fundraisers and donations being circulated right now, for Palestine, Sudan, the Congo, or otherwise, it is more important than ever to be aware of people who are trying to take advantage of the situation for their own personal gain. Whenever possible, please take the time to do some due diligence when you receive messages like this and check to see if a fundraiser is legitimate! It always sucks for someone to be the victim of a scam and lose money to someone playing pretend on the internet... but it sucks even more when that money could have gone to people in actual, acute, dire need.
Here's some more information about spotting scams on tumblr! Shoutout to tumblr user kyra45 for compiling this, and for all the other hard work they do-- thanks.
Here's an actual, vetted, and legitimate campaign that could use your support. After receiving this ask, I went and donated. If you have the means to do so, it would be amazing if you did so, too.
[ see ALL gaza funds campaigns here ]
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Hi just here to say you’re so real about Billdip, was gonna actually reply in the notes but I don’t wanna be harassed Yknow?
Anyway I love how everyone ignores the fact that like 90% of Billdip shippers don’t make Dipper an actual child and anyone that does will make it very clear (ex: AO3 tags usually something along the lines of ‘author regrets everything’, ‘why did I write this?’, ‘I’m going to hell’, etc.)
Also no one seems to want to confront the fact that rules kinda have to change when immortality is involved. Any ship involving an immortal character and a mortal I feel automatically makes a romantic relationship, disingenuous??
I’ll cut this off before I get too deep into how I feel about immortal/mortal characters have a nice day byyyyeee
'preciate you anon. I'll go into the crosshairs on your behalf ♡
Anyway-
Billdips and Billfords need to reconcile the fact that they are functionally the same damn ship. You can have a preference (I love them both) but acting like one is a high brow exploration of abuse and the other is comparable to real CSEM has even less self awareness than this kind of argument usually does.
My dash has plenty of mindlessly fluffy and smutty billford art that does nothing to protray their relationship as bad. There's also plenty of billdip content that leans into how horrific their relationship is and doesn't paint it as desirable. Because, you know, fan content covers a wide spectrum even on the same subject.
You don't have to like all of it, or even most of it, but playing up the dramatics that billdip is the most disgusting concept you've ever witnessed? Buddy, your ship is five feet to the left. You cannot have so little self awareness that you think fiction affects reality but then actively consume amd enjoy a physically and psychologically abusive relationship. I am telling you to look at your beliefs and challenge them. If what you see is different than what you've believed, you need to be open to exploring why.
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