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CHANNEL ONE: DITTO

⮑ ᯤ ꒰THE BROADCASTER꒱ CHLO, 9TEEN, SHE/HER

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˚◞ HAIRCARE! - SUGURU GETO

SYNPOSIS. with geto being your boyfriend, a morning routine was established. but some say sitting between his thighs as he does your hair; fingers running through strands, removing knots, and stying might be unusual. but to you, it was everything.

WARNINGS! tooth-rotting fluff

WC; 1.05K

THE LIGHT OF THE MORNING SUN filtered through the white curtains, casting a warm glow throughout the shared room. You sat cross-legged on the floor, a small, circled-shaped mirror propped up before you.

Your eyes weren't on your reflection though. Rather, they were closed, too focused on enjoying the sensation of Geto running his fingers through your hair, gently untangling the strands than to bother checking your morning face.

He sat behind you, legs laying on either side of your frame, thighs dangerously close to your face. Your boyfriend's presence brought a comforting weight as you rested your cheek against his upper leg.

You felt a slight tug as he pulled the brush through a particularly stubborn knot, but it was more reassuring than painful.

Honestly, Geto had always been careful with your hair as if it was alive. He always took his time, making sure each stroke was slow and deliberate, muttering sorry under his breath if he tanked on a strand a bit too hard.

It was adorable to see the black-haired male so engaged in a messily task you asked him to one random Tuesday morning that soon became an everyday routine. Even on days, you protested that it was fine—you found yourself in the same position from the day before, getting ready with all the supplies needed seated beside him.

The cherry on top had to have been when you walked in on him practicing hairstyles that you mentioned you liked. Your boyfriend never found out, and you brushed it off as a mere coincidence since he also had a length to his hair.

You had to stop yourself from geeking when the same hairstyle was on your hair two days later.

The scent of his shampoo filled the space between you, a mix of something herbal and earthy. It was familiar to you, seeing as you stole it and used it for yourself a couple more times you would like to admit.

Hearing the soft rustle of his clothes as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position for better access. His fingers were nimble and practiced, and you couldn't help the admiration at how effortlessly he managed your hair, a task that always seemed to take you ages.

"You've got a lot of patience for this," you remarked, your voice soft in the morning quiet with faint blinking eyes; sneakily peering at him through the mirror.

He chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating through the room to you. "Well, someone has to keep your hair in check."

You laughed the sound blending with the peaceful atmosphere. "Hey, I try my best."

"I know you do," he said, his tone gentle. "But sometimes you need a bit of help."

He didn't speak much more, and neither did you. The silence was comfortable, punctuated only by the occasional hum of approval from him when a particularly tricky tangle came free. You felt the coolness of his rings against your scalp, a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands.

As Geto worked, you let your mind drift; eyes shutting once more, focusing on the rhythmic pattern of his movements. He sectioned your hair, clipping some of it up to keep it out of the way. You could feel the slight pressure of the plastic clips, holding everything in place.

"You always take your time with this," you mused, feeling the brush glide through the length of your hair, each pass smoothing out the strands.

"I like taking care of you," he replied simply, his voice low and sincere.

Feeling your body warm at your boyfriend's words, you slightly straighten up, cheek moved up from his thigh to sit at the front. Geto not bothered by the sudden movement switched to a finer comb for the finishing touches, feeling the difference between the bristles.

"Any plans for today?" you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Not really," he said, his fingers deftly weaving your hair once more. "I was thinking we could just relax. Maybe watch a movie later."

"That sounds nice," you agreed, smiling at the thought.

When the male finally finished, he gathered your hair in his hands, twisting it into a loose braid. His fingers worked quickly, securing the end with a hair tie that was on his wrist. You opened your eyes and looked in the mirror, admiring his handiwork. The braid was neat and tight, but not too tight, and you could see the pride in his eyes as he looked at it.

"You did a great job, Sugu," you said, turning slightly to face him.

"Glad you like it," he replied, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

Geto leaned forward, resting his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear. You could see his reflection in the mirror, his dark eyes soft, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your forehead, a tender gesture that made your heart flutter.

"Thanks," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't need to respond; the gentle squeeze of his hand on your shoulder said it all. The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, savoring the moment of the morning, the quiet connection between you.

"Want some breakfast?" he asked after a while, his arms had now found their way across your body; secured in his hold.

"Sure," you replied, leaning back into him. "What are you in the mood for?"

"How about pancakes?" Geto suggested, head resting between the crook of your neck, making you squirm in response with sensitivity. You could feel his lips curl to a smirk. "I can whip up a batch pretty quickly."

"Pancakes sound perfect," you agreed with a laugh, playfully taking his face and gently shoving it away from you as if to hide your neck from him.

He grinned and, with a swift motion, scooped you up into his arms. You squealed in surprise, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

"Suguru—put me down!" you laughed, but there was no real protest in your voice as you "tried" to escape.

He carried you effortlessly toward the kitchen, his steps steady and sure. "Nope. You wanted pancakes, and I'm delivering you straight to them."

You giggled, leaning your head against his shoulder as he carried you through the house in defeat.

Maybe you didn't mind this being an everyday routine.

© All Rights Reserved, owned by SIYTHN.

all interactions are appreciated!! love you all lots, take care of yourself ༯

SPILL YOUR GUTS! - SATORU GOJO

SYNPOSIS: as you and gojo grow closer by the seasons, it seems the two of you notice the underlying tension ready to burst. but, it's better to ignore it. . .right? pretending to be just friends when carving pumpkins is nothing short of a hangout—yeah.

WARNINGS! mentions of carving with sharp tools, fluff

WC. 1.5k

THE AUTUMN BREEZE carried a hint of chill, but the sunlight kept you warm as you sat next to Gojo on the porch, pumpkins scattered around the two of you like blank canvases waiting for a masterpiece. You picked up a carving knife, rolling it between your fingers as Gojo leaned back, arms stretched lazily behind him.

“So,” you started, eyeing the pile of pumpkins, “you ready to actually carve these, or are you just going to sit there and supervise?”

He smirked, his sunglasses glinting in the light. “I’m thinking about it. Pumpkin carving is serious business, after all.”

“Serious?” you raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You? Serious?”

He chuckled, the angle he sat at pushing his glasses down slightly to meet your eyes. “Hey, I can be serious when I want to be. I’m just considering my options.” He turned his back to you and picked up the biggest pumpkin of the bunch, turning it over as if to judge its worth. “This one looks promising. Classic shape, good color.”

You snorted. “It’s a pumpkin, Gojo. They all look the same.”

He grinned in response, setting the pumpkin down in front of him. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. A true artist appreciates the subtle differences.”

“Oh, so you’re an artist now?”

He flashed you a playful look, grabbing a carving tool. “I have many talents. You should know that by now.”

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered under your breath, focusing on your own pumpkin as you began sketching out a design. “But I’m willing to bet my pumpkin turns out better than yours.”

Gojo shakes his head, a hint of a laugh meets the brief silence. “Oh, you want to make this a competition?”

“Isn’t everything with you a competition?” you teased, drawing the first line into the orange skin.

He didn’t deny it. “Alright then. Let’s see who can make the most impressive pumpkin.”

You both got to work, the sound of scraping and cutting filling the comfortable silence between you. Occasionally, you’d glance over at Gojo, his brows furrowed in concentration as he carefully cut into the pumpkin. He was taking it seriously, which only made you smile.

“What are you going for?” you asked after a few minutes.

“Something classic,” he replied, still focused on his pumpkin. “But with a twist.”

“You always have to add some dramatic flair, don’t you?”

He shrugged, not looking up. “It’s who I am.”

You shook your head, turning back to your own work. “I’m going for simple but cute. Something that actually looks like a pumpkin—“, you pause to glance at Gojos art. “unlike whatever you’re doing.”

“Oh, this is going to look like a pumpkin,” he said, his voice teasing. “Just. . .a better one than yours.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips. “We’ll see about that.”

Quiet minutes passed, and the pile of pumpkin guts between you grew. You were almost finished with your design when Gojo let out a dramatic sigh, wiping the sweat off his forehead as if to prove his point.

“I’m pretty sure I’m a genius,” he said, leaning back to admire his work.

“Modest as always,” you muttered, setting your carving tool down and wiping your hands on a towel nearby. “Let’s see it then.”

Gojo grinned, turning his pumpkin around for you to see. It was surprisingly good, compared to other works he’s done. The lines were clean, the design intricate but not overdone. He’d carved a sharp, fierce face into the pumpkin, with jagged eyes and a mischievous grin.

“Okay,” you pause, tilting your head as you inspected it. “That’s actually not bad.”

“Not bad?” he repeated, his voice full of mock offense. “Come on, you can give me more credit than that.”

You crossed your arms, fighting the smile that creeps up on your lips. “It’s alright. But mine’s still better.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Alright, let’s see it then.”

You turned your pumpkin around, revealing the cute, simple face you had carved. It was a classic jack-o-lantern design—nothing too fancy, but clean and neat. Gojo stared at it for a second before letting out a low whistle.

“Cute,” he said, leaning in to get a closer look. “But safe.”

“Safe?” you repeated, your eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Just saying, you could’ve taken a few more risks. Gone for something a bit more—,” he stops for quick second to look up at your eyes. “exciting.”

“I don’t need to overdo it to make something good,” you shot back. “Sometimes, simple is better.”

Gojo chuckled, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head. “You really think that’s going to win against my masterpiece?”

“I’m not trying to win,” you said, tossing a piece of pumpkin guts at him. “I’m just trying to make something that doesn’t look like it’s about to eat someone.”

He caught the pumpkin piece, tossing it aside with ease. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you couldn’t hide your smile that toned your voice. “Fine, Mr. Genius. Let’s call it a tie.”

He tilted his head, pretending to think it over as he sat still for a moment. “A tie, huh? I don’t know. I feel like I came out on top here.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “You just want to win everything.”

“I mean,” he said, flashing you a grin, “can you blame me? Winning is fun.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you still hang out with me,” he pointed out, leaning a little closer.

You bumped his shoulder with yours, smiling softly. “Yeah, well, somebody has to keep your ego in check.”

Gojo chuckled, his voice softening just a bit. “You’re probably the only one who could.”

The air between you shifted slightly, the playful banter fading into something a little more comfortable—more personal. His arm brushed against yours as you both sat back, looking out at the sunset. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, a little closer than usual, but neither of you made any effort to move apart. Seemingly a silent mutual agreement to soak it in while it lasts.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, “as sappy as it is, we do make a good team.”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, like he was seeing more than just the pumpkins in front of you. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “We do.”

Gojo’s hand brushed yours, the contact lingering for just a second too long, and for a moment, you thought he might say something more; not if your heart beating out of your chest did it for him first. But instead, he smiled that same playful grin, breaking the tension with a wink.

“You’re not gonna get all sentimental on me now, are you?” he teased.

You shoved him lightly, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks. “As if. I just didn’t want to crush your spirit too much after beating you in pumpkin carving.”

Gojo laughed, the sound light and easy, but there was something in his expression that stayed soft, even as he joked with you. “You really think you won, huh?”

“I know I did,” you said confidently, standing up and stretching. “But you can have your little victory if it makes you feel better.”

Gojo stood up as well, his height towering over you in a way that made your heart skip again. He reached out, ruffling your hair before you could stop him. “You’re cute when you’re competitive, you know that?”

You swatted his hand away, glaring up at him. “I’m always cute.”

He chuckled, leaning in just a bit closer; making his features more vibrant. He grinned at your flushed face and stepped back, picking up a couple of candles to place inside the pumpkins.

It was a known thing for Gojo to be a flirt. But as time passed between the two of you, it got more personal. He seemed to love to take advantage of the fact.

As the two of you lit the pumpkins, the soft glow of the candles flickering through the carved designs, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at Gojo. The way the warm light played off his features, the subtle smirk that never seemed to leave his face—it made your heart race in a way you weren’t quite ready to admit.

“Alright,” Gojo said, breaking your trance as he stepped back to admire the glowing pumpkins. “I’ll give you this—you did a good job.”

You smiled, leaning into his side as you both looked at your creations. “You too, Gojo.”

He glanced down at you, that familiar playful glint in his eyes. “First compliment of the evening, could get used to this.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile widened. “Don’t expect much.”

“Too late,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in closer. “You’re stuck with me now.”

And even though you playfully pushed him away, you didn’t move too far. Because maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind being stuck with him after all.

© All Rights Reserved, owned by SIYTHN

finally back for spooky season—sorry for the long break but ready to be back!!! make sure to take care of yourselves, lots of love ᡣ𐭩 Ѽ