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    “Am I dirty?” he asked before he could think better of it.

    Suguru looked him up and down with a curious expression, squinting, searching for something that could explain whatever the hell was going on. “Huh? No… you look fine to me.”

    That’s not what I meant. Am I filthy, or am I pure?

    “Are—are you sure?” It came out weak, brittle. He lightly unclasped the hand from Suguru’s jacket which he was still holding, leaving it just hovering over the fabric. He was scared he’d burn Suguru again, but he was more scared about being unclean. “What about my hands?”

    Without reservation, Suguru gently took Satoru’s hand from the jacket and then lifted the other, still pressed to Satoru’s chest, into his own small palms. He turned his hands till his palms faced God, and Lord, did they burn, but before he could pull back, Suguru held them firmly, thumbs brushing over the lines and grooves of his palms, steady, careful, unflinching.

    “All clean, ‘Toru. I promise. See?”

    Satoru did not believe him.

    Or, Satoru wrestles with God, the Bible, and the slow, undeniable realization that he is in love with his best friend, Suguru.

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    01 Jul 2026

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  2. Rec *

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    “Trust me,” he says, crossing his arms and cocking his hip, “that’s not a fight you want to be picking with me.”

    Satoru scoffs and rolls his eyes.

    “Oh, please. Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that brags about being bigger than he actually is.”

    “First of all, what the hell kind of guy do you mean, you don’t hang out with anyone but me. Second, you’re the one who brought it up. I just corrected you on something you’re objectively wrong about.”

    “The hell do you mean objectively wrong?” he spits, stalking up close and jamming his finger into Suguru’s chest. “What, you’re just so fucking confident? You have something you want to say to me?”

    He doesn’t—in fact, Satoru’s outburst has pretty much pushed any smart comment he may have had from his mind. He looks genuinely angry, not that pouting, hyperbolic rage he pulls out when he doesn’t get his way. All Suguru can do is gape at him as he stares at Suguru with something wild in his eyes he’s never seen from him before.


    Suguru finds out something about Satoru he never would've expected. He proceeds to have a crisis about it.

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    18 Apr 2026

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  3. Rec 98

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    Whatever Gojo had been expecting to see inside, with his eyes tracking the ebb and flow of that warped energy just beyond the door. It had not been this.

    "Satoru? Is that you?"

    Standing there was the Geto Suguru he'd known ten years ago, dark eyes furrowed in worry. Still in their high-school uniform and looking exactly like one of those dreams that play in Gojo's mind when he tries to sleep.

    [ Or: Cult leader Geto Suguru messes up with a curse, leaving Gojo Satoru to take care of a very confused younger version of his one and only for a day. ]

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    25 Jan 2026

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  4. Rec 151

    Mystery Work

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    This is part of an ongoing challenge and will be revealed soon!

    02 Dec 2025

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  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “You say that like you’re old.”

    Satoru snorts. “I am old.”

    “What, like thirty?”

    Satoru can’t help but pout, even as he glares across the table. “First of all, fuck you,” he snaps, much to Geto’s amusement. “Second - sure, give or take seven years.”

    Geto does the math, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re thirty-seven?”

    Satoru props his chin up on his hand, batting his eyelashes. “I know, I know,” he says. “I look very good for my age.”

    “You look really good, period,” Geto replies, and oh -

    Satoru’s face lights up like a fucking Christmas tree.

    Or, 37 year-old omega Satoru Gojo is convinced he’s missed his chance at love. His ship has fucking sailed.

    But 26 year-old alpha Suguru Geto thinks he’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, and sets out to prove him wrong.

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    11 Sep 2025

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