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greycaelum · 1 year

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Scribbles and Doodles: { Astra Inclinant, Sed Non Obligant }

—Gojo Satoru X Reader

[To dearest Ia, happy birthday! This is my gift for you, it's one of my favorite quotes, and I hope you like it. —Grey,]

Star-crossed lovers, a wish upon the shooting star.

Staring into the Milky Way, you find yourself enamored by the twinkling diamonds sprinkled all over the night sky. The way they are randomly spread yet still, they are perfectly in place to be a constellation.

A perfect mess.

"Do you believe in astrology?"

Satoru look at you and drank from his cup of hot cocoa, taking his time to think about your question. He just woke up from a refreshing nap, buried on your chest while your hands' card through his nape. If there's truth in astrology he'd like to know when is his day-off so he can sleep on top of you again, undisturbed.

"I haven't tried it." He shrugged.

"Really? Did your parents never had your future read or some sort?"

Satoru rolled his eyes and pulled you by the wrist, now you're standing between his spread thighs while he look up to your curious face. You're so docile when you look like this, inquisitive and adorable in your curiosity.

"Nope. Have you?" He rub your knuckles.

You sighed feeling the warmth of his callous hands. Now that you think about it, Satoru isn't the type to indulge in divinations to predict his future.

"Sometimes. It's pretty fun and mysterious."

He nodded, knowing your fascination with stars has been one of your charm. Pretty little one always talks for hour while he listens, and from time to time he would give in a cent or two.

"My sweet Pisces." Satoru grinned, brushing your cheeks with the pad of his thumb, you closed an eye and scrunch your nose. Leaning up, Satoru reach for your chin and reward your lips with a sweet tender kiss. "How about you ask me to predict the future for you?" He rasped, looking inyo your hazy eyes, staring down at him, your hair fall down like a curtain to screen the spilling morning light of 6:32 am.

"Hmmm, then... What's my horoscope for tomorrow?"

You loosely hang your arms around his neck. Fingers finding the undercut of his artic mane, grazing the tickling cut on Satoru's nape. You felt him shiver and hold you up to sit on his lap, straddling him.

"I can predict your today." He hummed, fiddling the stray strand of your hair, and kissing the tip of it. "You'll get dressed in a beige dress," he whispered, "—then a bouquet of roses and chocolate will greet you."

Satoru rub the tip of his nose over yours, gripping your thighs in his rough palms. It's dizzying how hot it is when you're just trying to innocently cuddle with him.

"—I'll take you out and roam the city and by the night we get home, we'll cuddle until you fall asleep on my chest while I hold you in my arms." Satoru finished.

"That's not a horoscope 'Toru, that's an itinerary." You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around his toned waist.

Satoru chuckled, the corner of his eyes crinkled and reach your lips for sweet kisses, not getting enough that he can't help but give you ticklish pecks everytime you try to pull away from him in your fit of giggles.

He never believe in fates dictated by stars, but he believes in his choice. He believes there's more to stars that brought you to him. In the 7 billion people in this earth, you're the decision he sincerely made.

"Stars are pretty." He admits to that. Tucking back your stray hair he gazes at you. "But stars incline us, they do not bind us, Baby."

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

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All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

#[grey writes: happy birthday ia!]#greycaelum #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jkk gojo fluff #gojo x reader fluff #scribbles and doddles

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littleperilstories · 1 year

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The Prince of Thieves: Making Home (bonus story)

Warnings: mention of insects, mentioned parental death, mention of poverty/homelessness

Listen. It's mostly cuteness. I swear. <3 We've got early-relationship Geoff and Jamie, late-teens Will, and ever-badass Colette!

The idea for this one hit me while we were watching Matilda: The Musical (the film), during the song "My House." It took me two months to actually write it, but here it is.

The Prince of Thieves Masterlist

You don't need to have read any other TPOT chapters to read this, but the character dynamics will make a lot more sense if you have!

Word count: 2169 || Approx reading time: 9 mins

It Isn't Much, But It Is Enough For Me

Teaser: With a glance around, Jamie tried to imagine what the place would look like once they had moved in—once it had more than a few rickety chairs, a table, and some very suspicious-looking beds, once there were curtains on the windows, once it was brimming with food and voices and maybe, after a while, shelves full of books, too.

Jamie

When Jamie Wardrew stepped through the door, the first thing that hit him was the smell of mildew.

Colette, too, wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t seem terribly upset. “Let’s open the windows.”

The spring air still had a bite to it, and if the wind picked up, the old townhouse would certainly feel draughty, but it would help with the mustiness. Colette smiled when she crossed the room to push open the cracked glass window, taking a deep breath as fresh air flowed in. “Better already.”

With a glance around, Jamie tried to imagine what the place would look like once they had moved in—once it had more than a few rickety chairs, a table, and some very suspicious-looking beds, once there were curtains on the windows, once it was brimming with food and voices and maybe, after a while, shelves full of books, too.

Savouring the image he’d painted in his head, Jamie matched Colette’s grin. “Think it’ll be enough space?”

“It’s gonna have to be.” With her hands on her hips, Colette peered around again. “Actually, you know what? I think it’s perfect.”

“Lotta work.”

“You afraid of a little hard work, Alpha?”

Jamie blinked, unsure of exactly what she meant by alpha, but not wanting to admit it and ask. “No. Who do I look like? Will?”

Colette blew a curl out of her face. “He’s going to bitch so much about the cleaning.”

Groans, huffs, sighs, curses, moans. Probably at least one attempt to escape and weasel out of all the work that needed doing, which Jamie or Colette would surely thwart, though Geoff was more likely to let him sneak away, probably. That was going to be Will’s response, no doubt, when he saw how shabby the place was—how much fixing-up was required. “I’ll set him straight if he makes a fuss.”

“I’ll set him straight,” Colette muttered, and Jamie chuckled, not doubting her for an instant.

“When do you think we’ll get to move in?” Jamie ran his hand along a small table in the corner, cringeing at the sight of dark grey dust coating his fingertips.

Taking stock of the place, Colette said, “Well, once it’s scrubbed. And once we know there’ll be enough beds for everyone.”

“Only need three,” Jamie began to say, catching what he was about to do and cutting himself off after need. At Colette’s quizzical look, he quickly added, “Well, that’s good. It’s not too much to do.”

She kept her gaze steady for an extra few moments, a bit too long and discerning for his liking, before she said, “Everything else… It’ll come in time.”

Jamie nodded, smiling again. “Yeah. It will.”

It took a month, in the end, to move in from the day Jamie and Colette signed the lease. Once she split open one of the ancient mattresses the previous tenants had left behind and saw everything that was squirming inside it, she refused to live there until all the mattresses had been replaced.

That ended up being a good idea—Jamie’s stomach turned when he saw exactly what had made her shriek and jump back in horror—and a good task for Will to work on. He and Geoff went on a few excursions to find cheap woven ticks; Colette gave him a tip on where to find some old textiles, discarded by a nearby mill, that would be perfect for stuffing; and he spent a day filling the fresh mattresses with cotton and wool.

What a marvel it was, Jamie thought, that he didn’t even complain too much about it. It was something Will could do to keep his hands busy that didn’t distract him too much from his constant blathering—on and on, rarely even pausing to take a breath. Some days, the everlasting chatter gave Jamie a headache, but most of the time, he found he couldn’t complain. It made him smile to see Colette challenge Will on half the things he said, or to see how attentively Geoff listened although he seldom contributed a single word.

Best of all, since stuffing mattresses wasn’t technically cleaning, it kept his brother much happier than scrubbing the floorboards would have.

It truly was something, Jamie thought, to watch his younger brother’s eyes widen the first time he crossed the threshold, once the place was finally ready to inhabit.

“Holy shit,” Will breathed, and Jamie laughed. “This is ours?”

“It’s not ours,” Jamie corrected him quickly. “We’re just renting it. Don’t get too excited.”

He pushed away one niggling thought that had been itching at him since he and Colette signed for the townhouse. He’d used his real name on the lease. Had she? She was so secretive about her past, and so much more quick-thinking than all of them sometimes, he suspected she had not. He feared to ask, lest she chastise him for being foolish or naive. For giving his name when perhaps not doing so would have been wiser.

“I know, I know.” Will waved away Jamie’s words. “But it’s… It’s real.”

Swallowing, Jamie put on a smile, hoping his brother couldn’t tell that a lump was growing in his throat. “Yeah.”

Moments like this, moments where Will could stand still, without fidgeting or pacing or tapping his foot—they were so rare. But he was motionless now, captivated, staring at the freshly washed walls and floors, the windows sparkling with rain, the secondhand but still functional white curtains. “It reminds me of…”

His words trailed off, but Jamie knew what he meant. He’d noticed it, too—how much this townhouse resembled the one they’d grown up in. It was older, to be sure, and shabbier than their childhood home had been, and it was in a worse neighbourhood, but something about it nevertheless felt similar; something about it felt familiar.

“I know.” Jamie, too, looked around, letting himself drift into his memories for only a few seconds before he focused back on his brother’s face. “So? How’d we do? You like it?”

Will grinned and flung his arms wide, the moment of peace now passed. “Well, yeah. Beats sleeping outside.”

Clearing his throat, Jamie turned his face away as if he were inspecting the room as his brother had done.

If their parents could see them now, what would they say? Would there be any hint of pride in their eyes when they looked at their sons? Jamie doubted it. Ma would be right pissed that they had scrounged up the funds to rent a decent home with stolen money. Even if he explained the plan, the vision, she’d surely be unimpressed. Iustitia aecum, she’d mutter, shaking her head. Who do you think you are, James Wardrew?

Justice for all men, justice for everyone. Taking from the wealthy. Giving to those who needed it.

Like we did, he’d say.

It isn’t right to take what’s not yours, she’d say. Jamie would duck out of the way before she landed a well-meaning but still surprisingly painful smack on his ear.

I’m doing what I have to do to take care of Will.

While he knew that there would be some sort of clever retort to that, the vision faded as Colette and Geoff tramped through the front door. Jamie held back a chuckle as Geoff shook the rain from his hair, sending a torrent of droplets over Colette.

“Watch it!” she admonished, giving him a nudge with her elbow, her arms occupied with a box full of food she’d picked up from the market before the storm hit. Turning her attention to Will, she said, “Are you going to help me with all this, or what?”

Rolling his eyes and heaving a long sigh, Will crossed the room to relieve her laden arms. “Thought you were tough and strong and didn’t need any help with stuff.”

“Don’t test me, Will Wardrew, unless you want to spend your first night here with a black eye.”

“Are you hearing this?” Will complained, skirting around her hand as she halfheartedly swatted him away.

“Well, don’t be an asshole,” Jamie said with a shrug.

“Don’t play with fire unless you want to get burned,” Colette echoed, glaring him right into the kitchen, though Jamie could see the laughter trying to fight its way onto her face.

Her grin faltered as she caught Jamie’s eye, and they both seemed to have the same thought at the same time. When Jamie glanced over at Geoff, he, too, appeared to be thinking it—the creeping sense that Colette’s warning applied to more than Will’s childish aversion to work.

In starting IA, wasn’t playing with fire precisely what they were doing?

“Hey!” Will called from the kitchen. “How much of this did you actually pay for, huh?”

The tension passed, and Jamie clapped a hand to his forehead. “Fuck’s sake, Will, do you want to yell that any louder?”

A sheepish cackle drifted in from the other room. “Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.”

“The walls aren’t that thick, all right? Watch what you say around here. And how loud you say it.” Jamie went to hover in the kitchen doorway and found that what awaited him there didn’t surprise him in the slightest. Will had stopped short of actually putting away any of Colette’s shopping, and he was now sitting on the edge of the table, swinging his legs, his feet just brushing the floor. He’d pulled an apple from the box and was tossing it into the air and catching it again, looking thoroughly untroubled and amused by this new preoccupation.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Jamie darted in and snatched the apple from mid-air, before his brother could grab it. “Hey. Get your lazy ass up and put this stuff away.”

The response Jamie received was less than polite, but Will slid to the floor and obliged, muttering only a little as he did. When Jamie glanced back through the doorway, he caught Geoff watching them with a smile tugging at his lips.

Can’t believe we’re here, he seemed to say.

Jamie looked back at him for a moment, then looked away to monitor what Will was doing, feeling the heat in his face and chest that always accompanied Geoff’s searing gaze.

Neither can I, but I’m glad we are.

That feeling of contentment, the sense that Jamie had at last gotten something right after so many years of floundering and failing, stayed with him as night fell—their first night together in their house, their home. He and his family curled into the sitting room, and the space didn’t feel crowded or too small, even though Geoff’s legs stretched from his spot halfway to Colette’s chair, even though Will had sprawled on the floor like a child, gangly limbs everywhere.

Jamie relished the closeness of Geoff next to him, not too close, not touching, but near enough that the air between them crackled with warmth. He bent over one of Will’s shirts, silently cursing the dim light of the fire and the candle on the age-spotted table next to him, as he sewed a red patch onto the elbow to hide a tear that had come from who knew where. A muscled brown arm obscured his vision for a moment, and when he followed its movement, he saw Geoff nudging the candlestick a little further away.

“Gonna set your hair on fire.”

Will cracked up. “Now that would be funny.” Colette, from where she was thumbing through a book she’d acquired earlier that day, aimed a kick at his shoulder, and he rolled out of the way just in time, forcing Geoff to lift his legs to avoid a collision.

“Two for two,” Will chuckled, keeping his distance, and Jamie recalled Colette’s earlier attempts to smack his brother earlier in the day. “Better luck next time.”

“One of these days, your luck is going to run out.” Colette, however, was laughing too. She held up her book. “Everyone ready?”

Jamie murmured an affirmation, Geoff nodded, and even Will, despite a scoff that was a bit too dramatic to be believable, settled into a comfortable position as Colette flipped back to the first page and began to read aloud. “‘Attend and listen, gentlemen that are of freeborn blood, for I shall tell you of a good man. His name was…’”

Still on the floor, Will was fidgeting with a smooth stone he’d picked up years before, something to keep himself from wriggling around too much, but he was listening. With his eyes on Colette and Colette’s attention on the page, Jamie pulled one hand from the mending just for a minute and rested it next to his leg. Quick as a flash, Geoff’s warm fingers brushed his, squeezing tight, and then pulled away again.

It was perfect, Jamie decided. Small, absolutely. Shabby, well, that couldn’t be helped. But it was warm and safe and full of the most important people in the entire world. And that was all he needed.

The Prince of Thieves Masterlist

Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

#lps the prince of thieves #lps-birthday #tpot bonus chapter #will wardrew is a snarky little sh*t #jamie wardrew is too tired for this #the IA boys would be nothing without Colette #Geoff makes a damn good cup of tea #lps-writes

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