My Tent Was Damaged Due To The High Summer Heat.

Hello, I am a human medicine student from Gaza City. I am asking you for urgent help in publishing the link for my family and delivering it to people interested and able to help us. I did not want to do that, but the tragic situation we are living in is what made me have to do this. I feel sad and helpless, after we had Everything, we are now homeless on the streets, we live in a tent next to a dilapidated public toilet and there is sewage, filth and waste everywhere, we sleep on it! We suffer from terrible heat, insects and scorpions, the danger of death, bombs and missiles, in addition to hunger of course, and the danger of pollution and terrible diseases.Especially digestive, respiratory and reproductive! My younger siblings are suffering and very sick. They are terrified of everything, especially scorpions and insects. My father and mother cannot bear it any longer. You have the right to imagine that when you spend your life building for yourself and your children to live a decent life, all of this goes away in the blink of an eye, and now when you reach the age you should To rest in it, you are forced to start over !!? , but the most important thing now is to try to stay alive and protect your children from all the factors of death that surround us! I ask anyone who has humanity or conscience to feel our situation and put himself in our place. How can a person who has lived with dignity all his life accept this? We are dying slowly every day. Please, if anyone can help, even if just a little, do not delay! Your little means a lot to us!

https://gofund.me/5f12ba33

gofundme.com

Donate to Help the Qanou Family, organized by Bridget Pallas

Hello, My name is Bridget and I'm managing this fundraiser for Raghad and her family. Raghad and… Bridget Pallas needs your support for Hel

donate what you can!!! and reblog regardless, help this spread, and it'll reach someone else who can donate! anything helps!!!!

😥Please watch the video until the end Look what happens to us We don't know what comfort is We are tired of this situation. Every day we are in constant danger Please help us and stand with us Please share this video with your friends We have the right to live like other children in the world in a healthy environment, away from fear, killing and hunger Donation link 👇🇵🇸

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Sahar and Her Family to Evacuate Gaza, organized by Ahmed Shamia

My name is Sahar Shehab. I am 14 years old from Gaza . I ask you for urgent h… Ahmed Shamia needs your support for Help Sahar and Her Famil

Please share the post to save my family🇵🇸

@el-shab-hussein @matthews-mumblr-emporium @eddietheboifromthefuture @agentx8d @spidey616fan @blackgirlyearning @karbiiyta @loopyguybespoopy @a-book-dragon

OP of the original post turned off reblogs but as of 3 hours ago 3/3/24 Deux Face is still alive and doing well!! According to the farm's Facebook she is starting to try to stand and getting better at holding up her head. The farm has been very clear that they're going to care for her and do their best to meet her needs, they are not planning to sell her or show her off to the media. They also haven't mentioned any other noticeable deformities inside or out and have noted that both heads connect at the same throat, and she's lived for about 5.5 days at this point which is shockingly long for an animal with this level of deformities. Go Deux Face!

Palestinian Fundraisers from Asks

I have received some gfm info from people reaching out and would like to post them in this format. Regrettably I am bad at checking my inbox so some of these are older and further along than others.

Please check out these gfms and donate if you can!

Please help my children live in peace. from @/ameeraayman5

€998 out of €60,000; vetting info here

Supporting my family in Gaza amid the crisis from @/yara-family

€2,706 out of €20,000; vetted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds

Urgent Relief; Help my family evacuate from @/mohameedibraheem

€841 out of €40,000; vetted by @/gaza-evacuation-funds

Help my family escape death from @sohaabdullah73

£361 out of £30,000; vetted by @/90-ghost

Help Mahmoud and his family escape Gaza & continue education from @/mahmoidsy

$5,884 out of $25,000; vetted by multiple vetters (see here)

Help save Ahmed's family from genocide in Gaza from @/ahmadallouhahmad

€6,340 out of €50,000; vetting info here

Help us survive 10 months of hunger, aya & ali from @/ayameq0

€2,419 out of €70,000; vetted by @/gazavetters (#54 on list)

Help Mohammed support his relatives in Gaza from @/moh-shamia

$66,751 out of $70,000; see multiple vetters in pinned post

Help Ibrahim's family get out of Gaza from @/ibrahem-4

€404 out of €30,000; vetted by @/gazavetters (#129 on list)

Saving My Dreams from the Rubble of War from @/mohammedjama77

€446 out of €10,000; vetted by @/gazavetters (#93 on list)

Help me save my family from @/osama-family

£4,409 out of £50,000; vetted by @/gazavetters (#12 on list)

Donate to Save My Innocent Children from @/shareeffamily

€626 out of €20,000; not yet vetted, but clean reverse-image search, and donations protected

Help My Two Daughters Escape from GAZA WAR from @/hadeelchilds

€17,631 out of €35,000; vetting info here

Support Amal's Family in War-Torn Gaza Escape to Egypt from @/familygazaamal

$3,371 out of $30,000; vetting info here

Help esraa family in Gaza from @/wejdan-32

€2,368 out of €20,000; not yet vetted, but clean reverse-image search, and donations protected

Urgent Appeal: Save Ola' family evacuate Gaza war from @/abedallhferwanagaza

€9,637 out of €35,000; vetted by @/gazavetters (#60 on list)

Help Asmaa to continue school outside of gaza from @/asmaamajed2

$10,490 out of $50,000; vetted by @/90-ghost

Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR from @/hayanahed

€92,165 out of €100,000; see multiple vetters in pinned post

Reblog for reach!

Update From North Gaza: Third Proof of Purchase!

This is Mahmoud Abusalama from North Gaza in the beginning, explaining the process of buying flour while at the same time distributing food packaged to families. The 2nd portion of the video is what he managed to buy at the end of his scavenge hunt for food and supplies. This will conclude our first North Gaza drive, which was held between March 4th-10th with $25k.

Mahmoud can't thank you enough for all your donations and efforts in this quick drive and wants you to know that so many people are sending tumblers their sincere and warm prayers 🙏

Don't forget, Hussam's campaign in South Gaza (Rafah) is ongoing and very much needed, especially during the month of Ramadan. Let's make sure the refugees have a nice iftar meal after 14hour fasting.

HelpGazaChildren Notion Site || #helpgazachildren tag

Paypal Link || GoFundMe Link

They had just finished up band practice when Vickie overheard Jordan and Brandon talking about Eddie Munson. Robin had walked out already, promising to wait outside the band hall for her.

"I don't know, man, I still think Eddie did it," Jordan said.

"They wouldn't have let him back into school if they thought he was still a murderer, Jordan," Brandon said.

"They were willing to ignore the fact that he was selling drugs, man," Jordan said.

"It's just weed," Brandon sighed and rolled his eyes.

"No, I heard he sells special K too," Jordan said. "That's the date rape drug. I wouldn't be surprised if he was using it on those kids in his club."

"Hey, Jordan," Vickie snapped.

She was seeing red. She had never been this angry in her entire life. She had been hanging out with Robin a lot lately, trying to work up the courage to ask her out. Hanging out with her meant hanging out with Robin's friends, and she's enjoyed hanging out with them. She's seen the way Eddie was with Dustin and his friends, the way he was willing to own up to the mistakes he did make. He didn't have a killer bone in his entire body.

"Shit, Vickie's pissed. Have you ever seen her pissed?" Jordan asked with wide eyes.

"Nope, and it looks like it's directed at you, pal," Brandon said.

"Hey, Vickie," Jordan smiled gently.

"Jordan, your dad's a pharmaceutical salesman, right?" Vickie asked, trying to remain level-headed.

"Yeah?" Jordan asked.

"Well, what's the difference between what he does and what Eddie does?" Vickie asked.

"Well, his drugs aren't illegal," Jordan scoffed. "And he doesn't use them to kill people."

"Dude," Brandon said and gave him a warning look.

"He and Steve Harrington are awfully chummy. Bet they use the drugs on Buckley to - ,"

All Vickie could see was red, and before she knew it, her fist was flying into his face. Her eyes widened when his head snapped back, and blood started to gush from his nose.

"The difference is that yes, the drugs are illegal," Vickie said, shaking. "Some of your dad's drugs are addictive and some aren't, just like Eddie's. What makes them the same is the fact that they can't know what someone's going to do with them, so the fact that Eddie sells drugs has shit to do with what happened. You don't know what happened because you don't know Eddie. He could never hurt a fly."

"You're crazy, just like -," but Jordan was interrupted.

"Hey!" Brandon snapped. "You were being a douchebag, so much so that sweet, calm Vickie Fisher punched you in the face. If anyone asks, I'm going to tell them you tripped, and no one will believe you that you got punched by Vickie because I'm pretty sure that most everyone in here has her back. Go on, Vickie, I'll deal with this asshole."

"Thanks, Brandon," Vickie said softly.

She was running on pure adrenaline when she walked up to Robin. She was leaning against Steve’s car, talking to both Steve and Eddie. There was no one else around when Vickie popped up beside Robin.

"Hey, Fishie," Eddie grinned.

Normally, she would tell Eddie off affectionately for calling her that, but she left it alone this time.

"Robin, do you want to go out with me?" Vickie asked, knowing already that she was out to Steve and Eddie.

Eddie squealed, gasped, and held onto Steve.

"Stevie, it's happening!" Eddie said excitedly.

"I know!" Steve grinned.

"Uh. . .yeah. Yes, I would very much like to go out with you," Robin grinned, blushing.

Vickie grinned and slipped her arm through Robin's.

"So, what made you decide to ask out our dear sweet Birdie?" Eddie asked.

Vickie opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by Jordan approaching them. His nose was red, and he had missed a few spots of blood, but he suddenly looked apologetic.

"Uh, Vickie? I just wanted to apologize. I realize now that I was talking shit about stuff I know nothing about. I said some awful things about your friends. I know that now. I'm sorry," Jordan said. "You have a mean right hook, by the way."

Before she could say something, he was walking away.

"Ah, so it was adrenaline after you defended Robin's honor," Eddie said.

"Not just Robin's, yours too, Eddie," Vickie blushed.

"Aw, Fishie," Eddie said, squishing her face. "You don't have to do that. That's what I have Steve for."

"That is not what you have Steve for," Steve replied, and Vickie giggled.

Robin leaned her head against hers.

"I want to kiss you so badly," Robin whispered.

"Boys, argue later. Let's get out of here!" Vickie exclaimed.

Of course, as soon as they drove off with Vickie and Robin in the backseat, Vickie was capturing Robin's lips with hers. She could hear Eddie wolf whistle, then Steve scolding him. Robin started laughing against her lips, causing Vickie to do the same.

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.

Steve missed his polos.

He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.

Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.

(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)

It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.

Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.

Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.

But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.

Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.

Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.

Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.

“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”

Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.

“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.

“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”

Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.

Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.

“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”

Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.

Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”

Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.

There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.

In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.

Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.

Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.

Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.

Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.

When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.

“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”

“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.

Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.

“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.

Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.

Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.

Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.

“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.

Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.

“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”

“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.

“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.

Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?

“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”

Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?

“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.

Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.

Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.

Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.

“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:

“But I’m not happy, Steve.”

Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.

“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”

Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.

Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.

Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.

Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.

-

tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

playing match-maker with professor!gojo satoru [prev]

Dr. Gojo Satoru added Prof. Shoko Ieiri to Cupids <3

Dr. Gojo Satoru: Sho where are you taking your lunch today? You: Eat with us in Gojo’s lab!

Prof . Getou Suguru emphasized your message

Prof. Shoko Ieiri: …why? Dr. Gojo Satoru: colleague bonding time! Prof. Shoko Ieiri: what’s the catch? You: Why does there have to be a catch T-T Prof. Getou Suguru: Join us, and we’ll accompany you to that meditation class taught by the cute brunette you’ve been drooling over.

Dr. Gojo Satoru laughed at a message

Prof. Shoko Ieiri: yeah alright

Shoko appears in the doorway of Gojo’s lab shortly after agreeing to join. Her white lab coat flutters as she strides in, a fitted blue shirt tucked into black pin-striped slacks. She plops her brown bag onto the table beside you, tossing her long brown hair over her shoulder, and extracts a sandwich and an apple.

Across from you, Gojo sits perched at his desk, leaning back with his legs crossed atop the surface. His usual smug determination is evident, highlighted by his untouched strawberry cheesecake yogurt. His white turtleneck peeks above the collar of his lab coat, accentuating the icy hue of his hair and brows.

Unfortunately, spending so much time with Gojo means you are beginning to mirror him in subtle (and sometimes regrettable) ways. Today’s shared wavelength is your matching outfits—both of you in white turtlenecks and brown straight-leg slacks. Though, judging by the label on his, the price tags aren’t even close.

Getou, seated on a stool to your other side, shakes his salad container, the silver hem of his cardigan shimmering under the fluorescent light. A stray strand of hair falls across his face, and he tucks it behind his ear before turning to Shoko, who silently munches on her sandwich.

“So,” Getou begins, smirking, “we’re just going to ignore how quickly the promise of getting near your little hippie crush convinced you?”

Gojo snickers and Shoko shoots Getou a glare.

“She’s not a hippie,” Shoko retorts, wiping her mouth. “Meditation is a holistic approach with spiritual and health benefits. What do you guys even want from me? Gojo, you don’t eat lunch on campus—ever. The café staff down the road probably know you better than your students.”

You chime in. “Important business, Shoko. Gojo and I are working on a project requiring the intellectual brilliance of like-minded individuals.”

Getou nods solemnly. Shoko laughs.

“Thank god you entertain him,” she says. “Back when my pre-med lab was next to his, he wouldn’t stop dragging me into his ridiculous schemes. You’ve saved me countless headaches.”

Gojo grabs a stress ball from his desk and lobs it at her. Shoko deflects it with her elbow, the ball bouncing to the floor.

“You’re so mean,” Gojo pouts. “Anyway, you’re here to confirm my theory that first-years Itadori Yuji and Kugisaki Nobara are the ideal match.”

Shoko groans. “Of course I am. Let me guess—you two,” she points at you and Getou, “think Itadori and Fushiguro Megumi are a better match.”

You nod eagerly.

“Well,” she sighs, leaning back, “considering Gojo’s total lack of social awareness, I’d normally side with you two. But…Gojo, are you positive that you can concretely back your theory?”

Gojo stands, pacing dramatically. “Is an atom that’s lost its electron considered positive?”

“I think you’re saying yes?” you guess.

“Exactly!” Gojo snaps his fingers, grinning triumphantly.

Shoko, ever the pragmatist, pulls out her phone. “Fine. This semester, I’m teaching those three in Health & Wellness. Let me show you something.”

She scrolls through her phone and finally finds a video. “Yuji and Nobara worked together on a group project. Watch this.”

00:03 =⬤--------------------------- 01:17 

⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻ 

[The video begins, revealing Yuji and Nobara squeezed together in the frame, their smiles radiant. Nobara playfully elbows Yuji, whose eyes widen in mock shock before he starts speaking.]

Yuji: “Hello, Sensei! Nobara and I finished the group assignment together and decided to try something totally out of our comfort zone. Actually, it’s something we’ve joked about before because it sounded ridiculous.”

[He stifles a laugh, running a hand through his pink hair, the short strands standing on end.]

Yuji: “We went to a local teaching farm and did… goat yoga. We’ve seen the posters on campus forever, so we thought, why not? It was a blast! The goats were fun, and hanging out with Nobara was great too!”

Nobara: “Yeah! Honestly, I was kind of nervous at first. It’s not easy convincing a goat to climb on your back during yoga poses. But once they did, their little hooves felt like a mini massage. Here—look!”

[She lifts a photo into the frame, holding it close to the camera. The image comes into focus: Yuji in a shaky downward dog pose on a yoga mat, Nobara beside him coaxing a tiny goat onto his back with a piece of hay. Nobara bursts out laughing and shakes the photo.] 

Nobara: “Haha! Right after this, the goat climbed off Yuji and—get this—it started peeing. Like, it barely missed his pants! He’s so lucky he didn’t get soaked.”

[Yuji yelps, shoving her shoulder while Nobara doubles over, her laughter echoing. Grinning through his embarrassment, Yuji snatches the camera, bringing it close to his face.]

Yuji: “Okay, Sensei, I’m cutting this off. Nobara’s having way too much fun at my expense. But yeah, aside from that one… incident, it was really fun. I’d totally do it again!”

[His hand covers the lens, and the screen fades to black.] 

01:17 =================⬤ 01:17

⇆ㅤ ◁ㅤ❚❚ㅤ▷ㅤ ↻

Shoko lowers her phone, pressing it to her lips as if lost in thought.

“Sorry, you two. After watching that again, I’m siding with Gojo on this. Look at them—they’re glowing. If someone made me laugh and smile like that, I’d be completely done for.”

Getou scoffs, muttering something about how that explains why Shoko’s “so giggly after meditation.”

You shush him, trying to keep things light.

“Alright, that makes it 2-3. But you know who else teaches those three? Professor Haibara. We have to ask him.”

Before long, Haibara Yu strolls into Gojo’s lab, looking as disheveled as ever. His charcoal slacks are slightly wrinkled, his pale pink shirt untucked, and his silver glasses sit crooked on his nose.

“You called—Oh! Everyone’s here! Hi!” he exclaims, spreading his arms wide in greeting.

Getou, ever efficient, disposes of his salad container and slings an arm over Haibara’s shoulder.

“Hey, Yu. Quick question: as their professor, do you think Yuji and Megumi would make a good match?”

Haibara blinks, caught off guard. “As in… romantically?”

When Getou nods, Haibara rubs the back of his neck, thinking.

“Well, they’re in my History of the Samurai class, and let me tell you, they’re my most enthusiastic students. On the first day, I asked what everyone already knew about samurai. Yuji and Megumi practically bolted to the board and started writing a list of skills they’ve practiced together.”

He grabs a marker and writes neatly on the whiteboard:

Samurai Fighting Basics – Megumi & Yuji

• Iaido: Drawing & Sheathing Iaitō • Kenjutsu: Bokken Stances & Striking • Kendo: Shinai Quick Attacks

“They even demonstrated some techniques right there in class,” Haibara says with a grin, his thick bangs falling into his eyes. “It’s obvious they’re close and share so many interests. Honestly, I ship it!”

The room erupts into chaos as everyone starts debating further. The argument rages on until Gojo’s next class begins trickling in, scattering the group with reluctant promises to continue later.

During your own lesson, as your students take turns popcorn-reading poetry, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Dr. Gojo Satoru: Hey, I just remembered. We’re facilitating that student union meeting today. We can totally ask the upperclassmen for their opinions!

You sigh, typing back a quick response.

You: Fine. Get back to teaching, Gojo.

When you woke up this morning, you definitely didn’t expect to be holed up in an empty classroom, grilling the Student Union’s elite members one by one about your matchmaking drama. Yet here you are, derailing their bi-weekly brainstorming session for fund allocation. To justify your antics, you and Gojo promised them unwavering financial support—if they gave you honest answers.

First up is Vice-President Okkotsu Yuta, his usual warm demeanor making him an ideal candidate for candid feedback. Sitting across from him, you can’t help but notice how he smiles sheepishly, like he’s trying to soften whatever he’s about to say.

“This probably won’t help much,” Yuta begins, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I’m ninety percent sure Maki likes Nobara. I mean, I can really see it, so I propose… NobaMaki.”

You and Gojo exchange a look, equally unimpressed. Without a word, you call in the next person.

Secretary Inumaki Toge is next. Sassy and loyal, he takes his seat across from you with a raised brow, clearly amused by the situation. After you explain the debate, he listens intently before lifting his hands to sign his response.

“I don’t know about Megumi and Yuji,” Toge signs carefully, his fingers precise, “but if you’re suggesting Nobara and Maki, I’ve got news: I’ve heard Maki and Yuta are actually a thing.”

You freeze mid-follow-up, fumbling for the signs to convey “suggest” and “imply.” Gojo swoops in, translating seamlessly. Of course, he’s fluent—he picked up sign language quickly after the two of you agreed to learn for Toge’s sake.

“Well,” you mutter, leaning back in your chair. “That cleared up absolutely nothing.”

Finally, you summon President Zenin Maki. Confident and direct, she strides in with her arms crossed, rectangular glasses reflecting the fluorescent lights. Her thick lashes peek over the frames as she narrows her eyes at you.

“What now?” she snaps, cutting right to the chase. “Me and Yuta? Seriously? Look, you didn’t hear this from me, but since we’re dragging Yuta into this—Toge likes him. So there’s that.”

Maki turns on her heel and marches out, her ponytail swishing with every sharp step.

Gojo groans dramatically and leans his head on your shoulder, the soft tips of his snowy-white hair brushing your cheek.

“This is just getting more ridiculous,” he says, voice muffled against your arm. “Everyone’s in love with someone else. What the fuck?”

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. Careful not to disturb Gojo, who’s still sulking on your shoulder, you retrieve it.

Prof. Nanami Kento Can you return my projector tomorrow morning? I need it for my lesson. Thank you kindly. Also, I hear you and Gojo are still sniffing around where you don’t belong. Just a word of advice: being messy usually leads to more mess. Good luck cleaning it all up.

You sigh, sliding your phone back into your pocket. Nanami’s right, of course. But does that mean you’ll stop? Absolutely not.

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