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[rizsu]

kaisen was in fact jujutsu'd! jujutsu kaisen › smau texts

the guys and their peculiar ways of confessing to you..! ( typo in yuuta's: ressurect supposed to be resurrect )

[rizsu]

the husband and his type of style jujutsu kaisen ⭒ fem-reader.

⤹ list ﹢ nanami kento, toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, choso.

﹙ syn ﹚ headcanons — as husbands, they all have their own unique characteristic.

+ love ‘su: “i thought you hated cho—” 🔇🔇🔇

NANAMI KENTO : the “get dressed” husband.

nanami's a man of his word. you want to eat out for dinner? get dressed by 7:00 p.m. you feel like doing a random grocery run? be ready by lunch, he'll come pick you up.

to nanami, nothing is more important than his wife's wants. having necessary items serve their purpose, obviously, but who doesn't like having their wants satisfied? he can never be one to hold you back from it.

happy wife, happy life. the motto he worships. as a man of tradition, he'd take a sick leave from his job if you wanted extra attention. a spoiler to the bone. whatever you want, just say the word and he'll tell you when to get ready.

TOJI FUSHIGURO : the “i'll make it” husband.

the king of craft. toji not only serves as eye candy for your eyes only, he also serves as your person handyman! whether it's to make, break, fix, or repair, he'll have the job done in no time. give him two hours, a beer, and a hammer.

to be loved is to be seen. for toji, he knows when you wish for something to be added to make daily activity easier. since you often crave snacks during the night, he reworked the nightstand's drawers into a small pantry filled with snacks.

sometimes you like to continue watching your show despite what you're doing. with this in mind, his new project is to either make a space into the shower wall where you can safely place your phone, or make a table for the bathtub when you're relaxing.

GOJO SATORU : the “don't you dare throw that away” husband.

a hoarder. most of the time, the items that gojo's been piling up in his studio are things that no longer serve him any purpose nor value. he simply doesn't feel like trashing it.

he'd run up the excuses that it's there for nostalgia, but if you ask him where or who the object came from, he'd be unable to answer. many times this led to unnecessary arguments. there was a time it got bad to the point he'd place the objects around the house out of pettiness.

this downside has its upside. with his hoarder mentality, you're guaranteed to find something you swore to the heavens you lost. there is always good in bad!

CHOSO : the “i miss my wife” husband.

doing grocery runs alone? he misses his wife. seeing a couple holding hands? he misses his wife. someone holding something that's enjoyed or liked by you? he misses his wife.

it's gotten to the point where if he's ever invited to a boys' night, the sentence “i miss my wife” is banned. if he says it he'll have to clean everyone's vehicle. to them, it's annoying. to you, it's peak husbandnity.

choso depends on you as much as you depend on him. oftentimes he needs a moment alone and you're always there to hold his hand. he's gotten used to such behaviour, so when he's set apart from you, the “i miss my wife” gets wicked.

[rizsu]

fuck my life; hold me tight. model!gojo satoru ⭒ fem-reader.

satoru came back after his two-week long trip for his modeling gigs. he's the same, but who's this ‘saori’ lady with a thorny stick up her ass? wc : 6.2k · usage of y/n.

+ love ‘su: thou shall not lie, thou shall not cheat! 😝 i left this without the small font bc it's lowkey a lot tbh

one › who's this?

undoubtedly, today’s the most important. you’ve been impatiently crossing off the days on the calendar until satoru returns. familiar with your excitement, he called you prior to hold you back from coming to the airport. it was strange, but nevertheless you thought less of it.

with your day now free, you spent it preparing for satoru. his favorite dishes were made, charcuterie board prepared, and the series you both watched together can be resumed. every time the thought of seeing satoru with your eyes again comes about, you get goosebumps. it’s almost sickening how he’s plagued your mind, becoming the balance-shifting object for your moods.

your eyes shift to the clock, realizing that there’s only an hour until he walks through the door. 4:00 p.m it reads, you’ve yet to shower — let alone choose an outfit. some may say your actions are too much, but nothing is ever “too much” when it comes to satoru. have you lost your marbles? not all, but perhaps you’ve become slightly boy crazy (with justifying reasons!)

4:58 p.m: you’re anxiously switching between apps on your phone, trying your best to not stare at the clock on the top of the screen. it’s insanely tempting, but you won’t give in. there’s no better distraction than window shopping on websites for items you’ll never set free with your credit card.

the door slams open, and soon a cheerful voice follows. they both jerk you out of your trance, leaving you with the pair of a palpitating heart and widened eyes.

“BABY!” a disheveled satoru shouts, recklessly dropping his luggage at the front of the door.

he walk-runs past the furniture, dodging the table corners until he’s nearing the sofa you’re situated on.

“sa-SATORU?!” you’re shocked even though you expected his arrival.

you unconsciously stood up, abandoning your phone as you moved to him. satoru mirrors you, being the first of the two to engulf you into a heartfelt hug. he squeezes you hard, burying his head into the junction between your neck and shoulder. his hand cups the back of your head, pressing softly into your hair.

“i missed you,” he whispers, letting out a shaky breath. “it took an entire week to sleep properly without you.”

“you’re addicted,” you joked, lifting a hand to ruffle his already-ruffled hair.

“not funny.”

“okay, okay, sorry. i missed you too.” you pull away from satoru, smiling at his pouting expression.

your hands move to his shoulders, gripping his puffed jacket to pull them down. he helps you by moving his arms out of it. once it’s off, he rolls his shoulders back, rolling his neck around to stretch his muscles. he’s been cooped up in a sitting position for twelve hours; the last thing he needs are stiff muscles and a sore body.

content with the new, relaxed feeling, satoru looks around. everything’s the same, as expected. nothing changed other than the charcuterie board on the coffee table and the dishes on the dining table. immediately, he recognizes the food. how could he not? it’s the food he labeled as his favorite even when it wasn’t.

in multiple attempts to please your mother on the first meeting, he went along with her words.

the soap opera she’s caught up in? oh, he’s been watching it too!

short videos she found on social media that are painfully unfunny? actually, it’s hilarious!

the lunch she cooked? it’s now something he’s been craving for weeks.

the salad? to you, he hates greens since they’re ‘flavorless’. to your mother? golly! put more on his plate!

he spent the week at your parents’ gaslighting himself until it became the truth. he became a new man after the meeting. lemon water was his new go-to (influenced by your mother) and card games are his forte (influenced by your father).

ever since then the main dish your mother cooked up became his true favorite. maybe it’s because of the warmth that came with it, or maybe it’s because he’s still gaslighting himself. nonetheless, he’ll always eat it.

“did you make all this yourself?” he questions, stealing a bite before you could’ve plated his food.

“hands off,” you slapped his hand, “i didn’t, though. i asked my mother.”

“ah, my mother-in-law. i miss your parents, too. we should visit,” he suggests, rubbing his hand that you heartlessly slapped.

“mhm, soon,” you agreed, sliding his plate to him. “let’s sit and eat.”

──

the plates are cleared, the charcuterie board’s three-quarters finished, and you’re on the final episode of season one of the show. satoru’s head is on your lap, busying his hands by poking at your thigh’s skin. your hand’s following suit, busying itself by playing with his hair strands.

the show was long forgotten, being demoted to background noise the moment you asked satoru to tell you all about the trip. you’ve heard the details beforehand during your calls, but it’s different to hear it face-to-face.

you intently listened as he talked, giving him mhms and yeahs to let him know you’re listening.

“oh, and i met a new co-worker? friend? i dunno but we’re acquainted now,” he speaks, looking up to you.

“really? i’m glad. is he a model too?”

“yeah, but it’s a she.”

you paused for a second. a she? that’s new. you’re not the type to anger yourself over your boyfriend befriending the opposite gender, but you’d still like to see her.

“i’d like to meet her,” you said, looking down at him with a soft smile.

“are you free in two days? i have a meeting that day. she’ll probably be there — no chances though, i never asked about her schedule...” his voice trails off as he ponders, trying to remember if she mentioned anything about being in a meeting after the trip.

“of course i’m free. i took a sick leave on purpose for this week.”

satoru laughs at the new information. you took a sick leave just for him? at your position of head assistant? he’ll never find someone who loves him like you do.

— two days after : the meeting.

you’re walking hand-in-hand with satoru through the hallway. you’re a little — no, incredibly nervous. it’s your first time officially meeting satoru’s business buddies. they know of you, you know of them, but that’s about it.

you dressed yourself up professionally, trying to match the classy rich vibes. it’s times like these you appreciate satoru’s over-the-top, multiple-zeros gifts. you’ll have to remember to give him special thanks for this.

“okay, we’re here,” he says, knocking you out of the nervousness.

“if you start feeling uncomfortable, squeeze my hand, okay? i’ll take you out of there,” reassuring you, he gifts you a peck on your forehead, topping it off with his genuine smile that’s only for you.

his hand turns the door knob, walking in with his model smile as he greets the members. you’re tailing behind him, trying to hide. the sudden energy shift didn’t match yours, so your instinct to hide behind satoru kicked in. unluckily for you, your boyfriend was set to formally introduce you. he uses a hand to hold your wrist, pulling you to the side of him.

“you brought a plus one with you i see,” a guy notes the obvious, smiling at your shyness. he already has an idea of who you are.

his words catch the attention of others. within seconds every pair of eyes landed on you. unfamiliar with the amount of attention, you squeezed satoru’s hand, placing a fake smile to mask your uncomfort.

“nuh uh, get your own. that’s too much staring,” satoru complains, squeezing back your hand. he steps in front of you, leading you both to two reserved seats at the table.

“i’m assuming that lady must be the one you talked everyone’s ears off about,” a lady suggests this time, stretching out her arm to you as she’s on the opposite side, but directly in front of you.

you stretched your arm out to her, accepting her handshake.

“i’m (y/n), pleasure to meet you.”

“it’s a pleasure to meet you too. call me mia,” she introduces herself, ignoring the heated glare of a man who doesn’t like sharing.

similarly, you’re ignoring the gut feeling of someone glaring through your soul. the situation feels similar to your teacher staring at you during an exam when you secretly have cheating materials with you.

the meeting continues on. you were introduced to everyone and met with questions. some complained about satoru to you, and others asked how you’re able to tolerate him. of course, satoru took offense. he flipped them off with the finger that has your matching rings on.

an hour later, you’re in the building’s cafeteria with satoru. it was okay; the atmosphere was friendly — minus that one person who glared at you. you don’t know who they are, nor what they look like as you avoided that corner. your social battery is drained, and you’re hungry for a light snack.

“baby, can you order for us? i gotta let it go. real bad,” satoru says, balling his fingers into a fist to hold back the feeling.

“uh, sure, but what do you mean let it go?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“piss, baby. piss. love you, bye!”

with that, satoru speeds off, almost colliding with another worker in the process.

gathering your order, you looked around for an unoccupied table to sit at. unfortunately, they’re all unoccupied. it’s a little awkward, but you’re left with no other option than to ask someone if satoru has his own office.

“ah, mia!” you called out, spotting her outside the smoking room.

“(y/n)! need anything before i smoke?” she smiles, pointing at the door.

“um, do you know if satoru has his own office?” contrary to your nervousness, your voice came out perfectly.

“take the elevator and press number ten. turn left and stop until you’re at the third room; that’s his office.”

“thanks much, mia!” you gave her a bright smile, turning around to find your new destination.

“no problem, (y/n),” she waves you off, entering the smoking room.

you followed mia’s directions, taking the elevator to floor ten and entering the third room on the left. it’s no doubt that the office is satoru’s. the pineapple-framed mirror confirmed it all. that mirror is the same mirror satoru try to convince you that it’s “in style”.

settling down in his office, you can finally be at rest. placing the food his desk, you plopped yourself down on his chair.

‘it’s comfortable, but surely it doesn’t take that long to pee,’ you think, suspecting that satoru may have gotten caught up in a conversation.

the door clicks, opening to reveal someone. your mind thought of satoru, but it was indeed not. it wasn’t even the right gender. a beautiful girl entered; her aura was a cool, mysterious, “i’m better than you” feel. confusion poured down on you. who is she and why is she here?

you don’t strike a conversation. instead, you simply watch her walk into the office until she’s in front of the desk.

“do you need some—”

“you must be gojo satoru’s bitch.”

“excuse me?” not only were you cut off, you were called a bitch. clearly, she’s not on friendly terms, and who does she think she is?

she looks down at you, placing a taunting smile on her lips. you don’t care since you’re the one on his chair, but who is she calling a bitch?!

“compared to satoru, you’re… low, to put it kindly!”

“okay, but who asked you that?” you questioned her, rolling your eyes.

if you were in a fantasy novel, she’d be the main villainess who’s engaged to the male lead for political reasons. you’re the female lead who’ll become victim to the villainess’ antics as the male lead, satoru, fell for you.

flustered at your sentence, she scoffs. compared to the shy persona you displayed at the meeting, you’re all bitchy now.

“i don’t need someone to ask me something in order to speak my mind.”

“oh my god. i didn’t ask you that, nor do i want your input.” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink.

“i don’t like you. you’re not good enough for satoru,” she voices her (unwanted) opinions, scanning you up and down.

“it’s gojo to you, missy. who’s the girlfriend here?” you noted her mistakes while making your position obvious.

she rolls her eyes, offended at being called ‘missy.’

“and it’s saori, not missy. get it right.”

“why must you disturb my tranquility with your nonsense ? please exit, missy.”

“i said it’s—”

“saori? why are you here?” satoru enters, removing his coat in the process.

“that’s what i asked her,” you said, looking at her up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“i wanted to meet your girl-friend, satoru!” suddenly her tone changed. the space she put between the word girlfriend didn’t go unnoticed by you either.

this is ridiculous.

he slowly nods, thinking that the deliberate pause between girlfriend might’ve been his imagination.

“oh, i was gonna introduce you guys. you beat me to it,” he pouts, walking over next to you to give you another kiss.

you smiled at satoru but smirked at saori.

irritated, she huffs, “i’ve seen enough, call me when you’re free from that, satoru.”

both of you watch her walk out in silence. satoru’s now confused.

“what’s that about?” he asks, scratching his head.

“is she the friend you talked about?” you answered his question with your question.

“yeah, but i don’t know why she has such an attitude all of a sudden. did her boyfriend argue with her?”

“pfft— she has a boyfriend?” you scoffed, learning that she’s not only the bitch, but potentially unloyal. why else would she bother you, who’s satoru’s girlfriend, if it wasn’t because she likes him?

he nods, shrugging off the curiosity to know what’s with her shift in behavior.

“whatever, let’s eat, baby.”

──

it’s way past your bedtime, and you’ve just arrived home. the day was eventful, minus the missy encounter, but nonetheless you had fun.

although you’re glad to be acquainted with satoru’s peers, you couldn’t shake off the suspicion that sao-whatever-her-name-is has been making advances to satoru while your presence was absent.

you can tell that satoru holds no affection to her, but you’re still worried. satoru’s loyal, yes, but he’s an oblivious idiot. if he nor you isn’t the one flirting, he wouldn’t notice anything. that’s why her behavior change whenever he’s around is seen as “friendly” and not “i want you so bad” to him.

you sighed, shaking your head to rid it of her. what’s important is that satoru isn’t interested in her. you can sleep with that comforting image in mind.

now that satoru’s home, you’ve been attached to each other like the north and south pole of two magnets. inseparable. it’s been like this for a week, but something changed.

two › is it just you or…?

the sao-still-don’t-remember-her-name missy has been ringing satoru’s phone down whether it’s by messages, voice messages, or calls. at this point, it’s annoying. satoru himself was one call away from blocking her, but he couldn’t.

aside from satoru himself, she’s the other key member in the new project. if he suddenly draws a line between them it can become what kills the project. thankfully, the conversations have been limited to work-related topics… or so you believe.

you’re on the sofa, indulging in a new show as you peeled an apple. the show’s plot became so intense that your eyes are glued to the television instead of the apple.

satoru jugs down the stairs, grabbing his car keys and running over behind you. he bends over to place a kiss on your cheek, notifying you that he’ll be meeting up with saori. not paying any mind to him, you bid him goodbye without thinking.

it’s only after he exits the door you register what he said. ‘meeting up with saori? that bitch? ew,’ you shuddered at the thought of her. she’s not scary, definitely not ugly, but sure as hell is a bitch. at least you remember her name now.

──

after that day, satoru’s free time has been occupied with her. you’re now sure it’s not “just work” that’s been going on. you trust satoru, but you don’t trust her.

there’s no reason for someone to meet up with their co-worker every day for work. work is never that interesting. it’s not like they’re in charge of the project either; the project is within the authority of mia and some other guy.

everything about the situation at hand has been bothering you. was she attached to satoru like this during the trip? were they always within arms length of each other? not even you were that clingy to satoru.

the idea to raise alarm bells to satoru crossed you, but the potential argument that may follow is what has you hesitating. you don’t want to suspect satoru’s friend, but her behavior needs to be discussed.

you waited until satoru’s home, showered, and comfortable in bed to bring forth the question. your palms are sweating, but it needs to be done.

“say satoru, can i ask you something?” you hesitated, looking at him.

“yeah, why not?” he replies, eyes stuck on his phone.

“what do you think of that girl?”

“who’s that— do you mean saori?” he laughs, “she’s cool, if i were to be honest. she’s fun to hang around with.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that she likes you?” you cold sweat, worried that he’ll take offense.

“who wouldn’t like me? i’m sexy,” he jokes, winking at you.

you playfully slap his chest. “i’m being serious here!”

“i don’t think she does— or at least i hope she doesn’t. i don’t want to be her boyfriend’s archenemy,” satoru truthfully responds, feeling his pores raise at the thought of a taken man’s enemy.

if you were to like another man satoru would honestly write a will and erase himself from history. so, it’s only natural that he hopes saori doesn’t become her boyfriend’s pain.

you hum, satisfied with his answer. it’s clear as day now. satoru doesn’t view her in any romantic way, but you know she has a thing or two for him.

not wanting to push your luck, you end it there. pulling satoru’s phone away to throw your body on his.

three › wicked witch of the west.

it’s almost as if the conversation with satoru triggered a chain reaction. for whatever the reason may be, you’ve now seen this woman more than your own parents. she invites herself over almost every day.

every time you open the door it’s her snobby face. it sickens you. you ordered a package recently and whenever someone knocks on the door, you think it’s the delivery guy, but nope! it’s the wicked witch of the west!

today it happened again. someone knocked, you opened, missy appears, satoru unwillingly follows her for the sake of the project, you’re left with murderous intent.

it’s time you talk about this with someone. that’s right, you’ve kept your worries inside you but this is just too much! there’s no reason for a taken lady to follow another man like she’s his shadow — far less for a taken man!

frustrated, you phoned your friend.

“hey, utahime.”

“(y/n), my baby! how are you?”

“i’m okay-ish, how about you?”

“i’m good, but what’s up?”

“well… can i come over? i’ll tell you there. i just need to get out.”

“of course you can! you were always here before that thing of a man took you over.”

“all right, i’ll be there in ten!”

──

utahime’s home always brought you comfort; it’s where you go when you needed to escape. due to her dislike for people outside her circle, not everyone knows of her address— especially not satoru.

she engulfed you in a hug the moment she opened the door. you can’t hide anything from utahime, she knew you were out of it from your face.

“i’ll put ramen on the stove, go make yourself comfortable,” she ordered, closing the door behind you.

you followed her words, throwing yourself face first on her sofa. you loudly groaned, annoyed at the idea of saori getting all touchy-touchy with your satoru.

“let’s talk about it,” utahime speaks, pausing the television before she sits on the floor next to you.

you lift your head to look at her, open your mouth, and close it back. ‘let’s not question it,’ you think, knowing that utahime prefers the floor at home ever since you knew her.

“so… there’s this girl named saori—”

“i knew i should’ve ran over satoru yesterday.”

“and then— wait— HUH???” you sputtered, shocked at utahime’s words.

“i saw him crossing the street by himself yesterday. it took a lot of convincing to not floor the gas pedal,” she sighed, knowing she missed the jackpot. “anyway, continue.”

your mouth hangs open for a few more seconds before you regain yourself.

“right… anyway. she’s satoru’s new co-worker and i don’t like her. on our first meeting she called me ‘satoru’s bitch’ and after that she’s been occupying his free time every-fucking-day. she has a BOYFRIEND! like damn bitch! move away from my boyfriend,” you dumped the information on utahime, shoving your head back into the cushion.

“my baby, just said the word,” utahime faces you, moving her hand to pat your back.

“for what?” your voice comes out muffled.

“to put a bounty on their heads.”

a groan leaves you. there’s no hope.

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding. we can devise a plan, however.”

your head perks up. your attention has been successfully gained. utahime stands up, a bright smile adorns her face. you have a major feeling that something mischievous is going to play out real, real soon. utahime never smiles so brightly unless she’s plotting something despicable.

you squint your eyes at her, watching her back as she walks to the kitchen.

“‘hime…”

“don’t worry; just trust me.”

6:43 p.m: you’re now being a sack of potatoes on utahime’s bed. the day flew by and you haven’t heard from satoru ever since he left. no way it won’t leave a sour taste in your mouth, but you couldn’t find the energy to care at this moment.

you're preoccupied on utahime’s laptop, carefully choosing the perfect inner-walls design for the house game you stumbled upon. interior design might just be your new job.

deep into the game, your phone rings. you groan in annoyance, picking your phone up to see who decided it’ll be a good time to bother you.

satoru is calling you.

clicking your tongue, you slid on the green button.

“satoru, what’s up?”

“babe, are you home?”

“i’m not, why?”

“whyyyyy? i brought food for you.”

“i’ll have it when i’m home. sorry i’m not there right now, satoru.”

“oh, i almost forgot. saori’s here too.”

“ew— i mean, okay. don’t let her near my stuff nor our room.”

“yeah, bye baby. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

“that’s so disgusting. get out of my house,” utahime voices her feelings, screwing her face up at the sight of you being lovey-dovey with satoru.

you laughed at her, returning your attention to the game. utahime walks to her closet, choosing an outfit for the night. she’s fresh out of the shower, wet hair wrapped up in a towel. you can hear her grumbling something along the lines of “i hate couples” as she threw clothes on the floor to look for “that one black pajama shorts.”

once successful, utahime threw herself onto the bed. she took over your phone, going into your messages for her chat to send herself photos you’ve long forgotten to send. never will she ever ask you for photos after the hangout.

“by the way,” she says, “what did that man call for?”

you sigh, looking at her with a blank expression, “saori’s gonna be there.”

“does she even have her own life? that saowhore or whatever you said her name is.” utahime rolls her eyes, her mood immediately soured.

shrugging, you click your tongue, “it is what it is. this game is more important.”

──

it took not one, not two, not three, but five attempts to convince utahime to let you go home. she was completely against the idea of letting you drive home alone when it’s 10 p.m.

you would’ve given in if it wasn’t for the dreadful feeling that you need to be home. you basically sped through the roads, and most definitely ran a red light accidentally. nevertheless, you arrived safely.

suddenly, your heartbeat races. a heat creeps up the back of your head; you can feel a headache in the making. something’s telling you that you’ll need to confront a certain someone.

opening the door as quietly as you can, you stepped in, removing your shoes and tiptoeing inside.

maybe you should’ve let utahime go through with her plans.

the sight before you disgusts you as much as satoru disgusts utahime. why, just why, is this woman still here? is she crazy? why are her legs on satoru, and why is he allowing it?

“goodness, if i didn’t know better i’d ask you if you’re homeless,” you sarcastically spoke, taking the remote to turn the television off.

“get,” you took hold of one of her legs, shoving it off satoru. “off my fucking boyfriend.”

satoru watches, shocked at the scene. his eyes are unfocused; it’s evident that he zoned out a long time ago.

saori scoffs, moving her leg back on satoru’s lap. “why should i?”

you tilt your head, smiling angelically. the smile lasted milliseconds before it dropped. you’ve had quite enough and she’ll be subjected to your anger.

grabbing her arm, you roughly dragged her off the sofa. saori wasn’t one to accept such treatment. she retaliated, shuffling her arm around until she’s off your grip.

“are you fucking crazy?!” saori yelled, eyes wide with heavy breaths.

“not quite!” you pointed towards the door. “get out before i drag you myself.”

satoru’s silent. afraid of angering you, he stays put and watches from a distance.

“fuck off,” saori speaks, “satoru, text me when you’re off your dog collar.”

your anger reached its peak. grabbing the closest thing, which happened to be a mug, you threw it in her direction, aiming to miss her but hit close enough to her.

“ARE YOU INSANE!?” saori’s stumbles to the side, clenching her jaw, looking down at the broken pieces of the ceramic mug.

the scene alarms satoru, he decides to do something. standing up, he reaches for your wrist, pulling you to him.

“i think it’s time you leave, saori. i didn’t even know you were still here,” satoru’s voice is calm, but filled with authority. his words hold truth to them, he zoned out a while ago, unaware that saori’s still around.

clicking her tongue, her eyes twitch. she couldn’t muster up anything to say. being left with no choice but to listen to satoru, she saw herself out.

the quietness settles in. you were right about the headache, it’s definitely coming in.

“baby—”

“save it,” you stopped him, “but who the fuck is she to think i have you on a dog collar? i’ll put her on a collar.”

guilt settles in satoru, he shouldn’t have brought her in.

“i don’t why she said that. you don’t have me ‘on a dog collar’ i swear,” he rambles, placing a hand on his chest.

your gaze settled on satoru. you’re tired, a headache is there, and you probably went overboard. you’re not in the mood to hear him.

“satoru, i trust you. but i don’t trust her.”

“i’ll make her apologize.”

“ew, no.” you shivered at the thought of her apologizing. “i don’t want you near her anymore. her intentions are too fucking obvious.”

satoru physically hesitates. swallowing a gulp, his words come out quietly, “i can’t ignore her just like that..”

just as you were about to walk away, your head whipped to satoru as if you were slapped in that direction.

“what?”

“the project’s still ongoing, baby. i can’t ignore her just because you want me too.”

“fucking hell. kiss my ass, satoru. kiss her ass too while you’re at it,” you spat, flipping him off as you walked away.

if he can’t ignore her “just because you said so” then he can be ignored by you. maybe he did said something to make her think he’s on a dog collar.

you hear satoru calling for you, but you gave him no attention. you’ll deal with it tomorrow.

four › satoru’s new piercing idea: a bullet through his head.

satoru fucked up. he knows he fucked up. he should’ve said that after you calmed down. it couldn’t have gotten worse than this. the night flew by with you facing your back to him, the morning came with you acting as if he’s invisible.

sure, he fucked up, but at least reply to his good morning?!

he doesn’t know what to do. this is the first time you were angered to this point. usually, he’d be the one to better your mood, but he’s apart of the reason you’re as mad as you are.

your behavior went on for three days. far longer than satoru had anticipated. he’s given you your space, but now he can’t focus on his job.

his co-workers knew something was off with satoru. he’s not his usual self. they knew something happened the moment he declined a free meal. secretly, they gathered around, holding a confidential meeting to discuss satoru’s behavior.

everyone gave their opinions until an agreement was made: a couple’s argument had occurred.

evidence to support? satoru refrained from mentioning you, gave awkward answers when someone asked about you, and sulked when he looked at his lockscreen which was you.

saori, however, advanced her advancements to satoru. today was another day of her throwing her cleavage at him.

the photoshoot theme included two persons, but they weren’t meant to touch. they needed to act like enemies, but saori’s touching satoru as if he’s an all-you-can-touch event.

her hands slid down his chest, stopping at his abs. satoru doesn’t react— his eyes are empty, it’s clear that he wants the photoshoot to be over.

mia observed the two ever since the business trip, and she came to the conclusion that saori’s craving a place she was never meant to have.

“well aren’t you a little handsy, miss saori,” mia calls out, stopping the cameraman. “had i not known your boyfriend, i would've thought you were single.”

“who asked?” saori gives an attitude, but she moves her hand from satoru. the mention of her boyfriend bothered her.

the staff goes silent. a tension forms in the atmosphere. the calm before the storm, as they call it.

mia walks towards the two, placing a hand on saori’s shoulder when she nears her.

squeezing her shoulder, she leans down to saori’s level, “who’s the boss here? you’re chatty for a little girl who wants others’ belongings.” mia taunts, her voice cold.

saori gulps, slapping mia’s hand off her.

the action doesn’t bother mia in the slightest. instead, she leans to saori’s ears, whispering the unfortunate truth to her, “satoru will never want you, saori. remember that.”

straightening her posture, mia turns around to walk back to her designated position.

“back to work, everyone!”

with her order, everyone returns back to their previous doings. the tension is still heavy, and satoru’s still holds his empty gaze.

──

a thirty-minute break was called. at this moment, to each their own. the staff scrambled around, but satoru stayed put.

“saori,” his voice drags, “let’s talk alone.”

her expression brightens, feeling the butterflies tingle in her stomach. but little does she know, satoru’s about to act out of the character she knows him to be.

“s-sure! let’s do it in your dressing room,” she suggests, pulling satoru there.

once they’re in, she locks the door behind them. satoru sighs at the sight, but he doesn’t say anything about it. there’s something else he came here for.

“saori, do you like me? romantically?” he asks, leaning on the wall with crossed arms.

“i do,” she boldly confirms.

“then stop. you’re getting in between my relationship with (y/n),” he glares at saori, deciding it’s time to draw the line.

“ha, you’re still on that leash i see,” she scoffs, walking towards satoru until they’re face-to-face. “i’m better, satoru. you should choose me.”

satoru unfolds his arms, using one to push her away.

“saori, i’ve thought of you as nothing but a co-worker, a friend. you cannot be (y/n). so please, stop.”

clenching her jaw, saori tugs at satoru’s shirt’s collar, “i don’t give a flying fuck! you should be mine.”

satoru feels disgusted, a chain of chills cover his body. has saori always been like this?

“you have a boyfriend, for fuck’s sake!” he slaps her hand away, moving towards the door.

before he unlocks the door, he stops, turning around to clarify something before he forgets to, “oh, and if anything, the truth is that i’m the one who placed a dog collar on myself. so watch your mouth.”

with that, he leaves her alone, walking to where mia’s positioned.

“mia,” he calls for her.

mia turns to him, eyes wide for a second before she returns to her usual expression.

“need something, lovesick boy?” she teases, raising her eyebrows at him.

“if saori isn’t withdrawn from this project, then i’ll withdraw myself,” he threatens, running a hand through his hair exposing his forehead.

‘i’m not sure if this is unexpected or expected,’ mia thinks, not surprised at satoru’s request. it was only a matter of time.

“i’ll withdraw her. she pissed me off, too,” giving satoru her answer she pauses, and then continues, “but you really need to learn how to tell apart platonic actions from romantic.”

satoru cringes at her words, “ugh, leave me alone. i’m leaving.”

“you’ll be penalized for leaving during working hours!”

“blah blah blah.”

──

satoru’s destination was obvious. it’s your shared home. he would make his business to break the ice first.

messily unlocking the door, he kicks his shoes off, immediately looking for you. you’re not on the sofa, not in the bathroom, not in the kitchen, where the fuck are you?!

checking off your usual spots, he’s left with one: the bedroom.

quietly opening the door, he peeks in, observing the room for you. once he found you, he tiptoed in.

your back was turned to the door. whether you were sleeping or not was the least of his problems. he’ll wake you up if he has to.

“baby,” he carefully speaks, sitting on the edge of the bed with a hand on your blanketed figure.

you don’t answer him, but you do turn around to face him.

“i talked to saori. we won’t be in contact any time soon.”

“oh wow,” you said.

he clears his throat at your sarcasm, “ahem— anyway, i told her off, and asked for her to be removed from the project.”

“what made this sudden change? i thought you were glued to her.”

“she was glued to me!” he clarifies.

“tomato, tomahto. potato, potahto.”

ignoring your snarky remarks, he continues, “i told her about the ‘dog collar’ comment. i even told her to watch her mouth. i’ll cut contact with her on my phone, too.”

“so she’s gone? completely?” you questioned, removing a hand from under the blanket.

“yeah, i received a divine revelation and came to my senses. really, i thought she saw me as platonic as i saw her. i swear!” he confirms his innocence, staring at you with sadden eyes.

“you’re still a bitch,” you said, “i almost allowed utahime to go through with her bounty plan.”

sitting up, you took one of satoru’s fingers in your hand, “i’m glad you did that, but i’m still mad. you made me want to tell you to go fuck her and done with it.”

satoru’s mouth hangs open at the newly gained information.

“i didn’t, as you can see. i still love you so such words would never be spoken.”

“‘still’ she said.”

“don’t push it.”

a laugh escapes him. not listening to your warning, he pulls you into a hug. this time, it was a hug of desperation and relief. his head’s buried in your neck, breathing in the body mist you always wear at home.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“dear god, fuck that bitch i hope she dies,” you comforted satoru, returning his hug and patting his back.

do you have an issue with satoru? no, but he did set you off when he refused to cut contact with her when you asked.

it took him quite some days to see the vision, and you’re glad he did.

hey guys 😣 if anyone’s confused about this part:

“what made this sudden change? i thought you were glued to her.”

“she was glued to me!” he clarifies.

“tomato, tomahto. potato, potahto.”

it simply means “what’s the difference?”

when (y/n) said she thought satoru was glued to saori, satoru responded with “she’s glued to me!”

(y/n) says “tomato, tomahto. potato, potahto.” because it doesn’t matter how you pronounce it since it’s the same word. there’s no difference.

satoru was glued to saori and vice versa so what’s the difference fr

hope this helped 😜

[rizsu]

you're asking for impossible just make the first move pussy

oh girl ( gender neutral ) this is the advice i needed to see

[rizsu]

“okay, i see how it is...”

megumi's voice trails off. his shoulders drop, arms loosely attached to his sides. to him, it feels as though his heart's been squished into pieces by a hydraulic press.

you delivered the most painful experience megumi's ever been through. he couldn't believe you. is your heart made of fucking steel? how could you just throw him to the side like... like he's a mere hand-me-down you settled with temporarily?! preposterous!

“it's the way life goes, fushiguro,” you coldly taunted him, reaching out for his shoulder.

megumi flinched back. his head's turned to the side; he doesn't want to see you anymore. without any noise from him, he continued to fiddle with his hands, moving the small pieces of silver-painted plastic around his palm.

“are you really gonna keep me here, baby? is that the kind of person you are?” he asked, slowly moving his tear-glazed eyes to connect with yours.

“don't blame me. it's what nature wants,” you shrugged your shoulders, moving your attention away from his eyes to the money you hid under your leg.

his eyes bulged. would this seriously be the end of your relationship? your nonchalance to his suffering is outrageous! he's your boyfriend — for fuck's sake!

“baby, please,” megumi begs, placing a hand on the middle of the board to lean over.

he's a little under twenty centimetres away from your face. his eyes wander until they land on your lips.

“bail me out? please?” he begs again, biting his bottom lip.

you locked your eyes on his lips, smirking at the petty attempts to convince you.

“megumi, it's not my fault you rolled a six-dice three times, okay? you had to go to jail for that — it's the rules!”

“oh fucking hell, since when do you play by the rules?!”

“i take this monopoly shit very seriously. if you going to jail means i'd win, then so be it.”

your lines defeated him. he once again let his shoulders drop. you truly are cruel. is it just an empty void inside your chest? where's your heart?! he's been jailed for the past six rounds!

“i cannot believe you, you materialistic evil person of today's society,” he spat, voice reeking of venom as he moved back to his original spot.

you rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you moved four blocks on the board to buy another house. that house just so happened to be the one he's been eyeing.

“well, sweetheart. which one of us is moving freely across the board right now?” again, you taunt him. smiling as you placed a red-coloured mini-house on the block. oh, he's so fucked when he's out.

“you will be the reason i do a ritual to summon a curse to end us both.”

[rizsu]

texts with them: “what do you have me saved as?” jujutsu kaisen.

for gojo's ( facetime ) he blocked u so u hopped on his twt 🖖🏽

[rizsu]

im ngl this how some of y'all be acting

[rizsu]

the aftermath of being turned into an ex jujutsu kaisen — gojo satoru.

gojo's a man of commitment. if rounding up a ‘band’ to serenade you into taking him back is what'll do the trick, then he'll organize it.

+ extra. this is meant to be unserious dont attack me for mischaracterization n shi 😞

“we're done.”

“we are not!”

in the end, he got kicked out. due to the shame he felt by being kicked out of a house he once lived in, satoru actually leaves. don't party too soon though, he's going to come back within five hours.

the plan he had in mind was simple: go to the department store, buy some roses, a poster, led lights, a table, some chocolates, and hire a band. for this the budget will be endless.

you thought you got rid of satoru but little did you know that he still has his share of keys. with that trick up his sleeve, he unlocks the gate, sneaking in everyone and the props.

satoru wasn't able to hire a band, but he was able to get a substitute. you see, todo, inumaki, and yuuji have hidden talents. they can all play instruments and one can sing! he always knew there was a reason why he's proud of his students.

quietly, the four men set the stage that's actually your front yard. in the center holds the white table with a black satin cloth delicately placed on it. the three bouquets of roses sit beautifully on the table. some petals were picked out and carefully spotted as well. on the table's center held the chocolate and wine — your favourite wine, to be exact. the finishing touch is the led lights. they're circling the ground, illuminating it with a soft yellow glow.

at the right and left sides of the table are inumaki and yuuji. inumaki's holding a wooden guitar while yuuji holds the hand drum. todo's position is in front of the table but a little off-center. he's holding the microphone, ready to pour his heart out on the song.

the star, satoru, is the one in the center. one hand hides behind his back. it's holding another rose bouquet with hundred-dollar bills wrapped with the roses. his free hand holds his phone. as soon as the clock strikes 7:00PM, he's going to call you. everything should play out perfectly.

anxiously watching his wristwatch switch from 6:59 to 7:00, he immediately calls you. one, two, three, six rings later you answered.

“you. i forgot to block you.”

“excuse me?” satoru scoffs, “whatever, i'm not calling for that.”

“chop chop then. i don't have all night.”

“can you come outside?”

“no. i will be calling the police.”

“OH C'MON,” he whines, getting desperate. “please? after this i'll leave you alone. promise.”

“...”

yuuji painfully watches. he feels incredibly sorry for his teacher. he doesn't deserve this!

“i don't think this is going good,” yuuji whispers to the boys, moving his head side-to-side.

todo raises his fist, gesturing to the boys to have some faith. “let's put our hopes high.”

they watch satoru closely. his hand that held the phone dramatically dropped to his side. slowly, he turns his head to face the boys behind him. his face breaks their hearts. he's pouting with eyes nearing tears — a pain only males like them can understand!

before satoru can say something, the front door clicks open. as it swings open aggressively, you made yourself tonight's main star unwillingly. you were not dressed for whatever this occasion is. your front yard has been ruined, your ex is there, three of his students you've met a few times, and while they're in suits, you're in a fancy robe with fluffy indoor slippers.

your eyebrows crease together, just when did they do all of this?! maybe it's time to install cameras.

“satoru, what the fuck did you do to my—”

“shh, tonight it's just you and him,” todo cuts you off, switching the mic on and beginning his performance. inumaki tunes the guitar and starts stringing random strings in hopes that they sound good. yuuji follows by tapping a simple “dun-da-da-dun-dun” beat on the drums.

your mouth's now opened. baffled by the sight, you stood there motionless.

“i have died every day waiting for you~”

as todo sings, satoru walks up to you, cheekily smiling at your shocked expression.

you back away from him, eyebrows still furrowed at whatever's going on.

“darling, don't be afraid~”

at this lyric, satoru takes the opportunity to shove his phone back into his pocket and grab your wrist. although you attempted to wriggle free, you are no match for his strength. gently, he pulls you into the yard.

both your eyes lock on each other. you search his eyes for emotions, he searches yours for any signs of longing. it's not there, he thinks. he feels a pinch in his heart, but it won't stop him. sending you a wink, he pulls you closer to the table.

“i have loved you for a thousand years (ooh)~”

“seriously, what's all this bullshit?!” you whisper-yelled at him, using your other hand to point at the table.

satoru simply shrugs.

“i'll love you for a thou-sand more (ooh, yeah)~”

todo ends his singing, clapping along with the other two to end the performance. it was the most touching thing he's ever done besides gifting yuuji and his idol a trio matching keychains set.

satoru coughs three times in attempts to hide his laugh. this has probably been the most unserious yet serious he's ever been, but his perfomance doesn't end there. he still has something else to whip out.

“baby—”

“that's not my name,” you cut him off.

“anyway. as i was saying,” he stops, revealing the rose bouquet with multiple hundred-dollar bills. “all of these are yours.”

your eyes bulge, but you quickly regain yourself.

“i'm not going to be won over with some roses and money.”

“there's wine and chocolates too,” yuuji says, immediately shutting up after you shot him a look.

inumaki stands awkwardly. he feels immense second-hand embarrassment. to counter such feelings, he starts playing the guitar again.

satoru cups the side of your face with his hand. his thumb caresses your cheek as he locks his eyes on yours again.

“i was serious about not breaking up, y'know,” he softly speaks, “i know i'm pushing it and all that stuff but i don't think i can leave you.”

it's once again your turn to be speechless. at this point, you're sure that there's no way all of this is happening in one night.

since you won't take hold of the bouquet, satoru places it in your hand. to solidify it even more, he lifts your other hand to place a kiss on it.

“what level of romance is this?” again, yuuji speaks. this time, it's satoru who gestures him to quiet down.

inumaki's still playing the out-of-tune guitar, enjoying the way the wind gently blows. it's truly a beautiful night. under the full moon's light, you and satoru glow together.

todo gears up for another round of singing. he immediately does a dragged-out “ooh~” adlib. this, however, wasn't going to last as long as his previous one did.

“NO — no more, please. you have a wonderful voice but i've heard enough. please.” you turned around to todo, begging him to mute the mic and possibly himself.

“and you,” you turn back to face satoru, “clean this up, get the boys home safely, and then come back.”

after that, you walked back to inside your house with the bouquet, making it satoru's turn to be left speechless. he still didn't win you over with some roses and money (wine and chocolates too) but his stupid commitment to keeping the relationship is what did.

[rizsu]

nonsensical questions — you must answer! tokyo revengers, jujutsu kaisen.

⤹ list ﹕ s. shinichiro + i. wakasa | f. toji + r. sukuna.

being a father means your child is either gonna humble you or throw questions only the divine can answer.

+ extra. for toji's part megumi's an older brother 😝

SHINICHIRO SANO — “well...!”

“daddy, if the sun went boom what would you do?”

curiousity is a child's best friend. when his son asks a question, the boy will not stop until he gets his answer.

curiousity, on the other hand, is not a father's best friend. shinichiro's more experienced than his five-year-old, he's had his fair share of ‘curiousity killed the cat’ moments.

as if shaping the mangoes into star-shaped pieces wasn't enough for him, he just had to spice it up with a triple question-mark (???) question and his cute actions.

the little one, or as shinichiro calls him, mini shini, was the one who introduced the question. he stretched out both arms and drew an imaginary circle in the air to reenact the sun going “boom!”

a sweat-bead trickles down shinichiro's neck. he swallows hard. if he dares to answer the question wrong, it'll only result in a challenging battle to make him eat the fruit. he ponders on the question, what would he do if the sun truly went boom?

die? no, that's too intense.

stop it? a power he wish he had.

tell the sun “don't do that!”? sounds like a perfect answer.

shinichiro places the star-shaped cutter down, lifting the boy onto the countertop. stabbing one of the many mango pieces with the child's fork, he imitates the sound of an airplane, swirling the fork in a bee-line before it lands in his son's mouth.

the action sends the younger one into a fit of giggles. he happily chews on the fruit, kicking his dangling feet back-and-forth.

“and as for your question,” shinichiro begins, “i'll tell the sun to not go boom-boom before it booms.”

he ends the sentence with a smile, gearing up the fork for another airplane run.

his son, however, doesn't return the excitement. instead, he tilts his head, slows the pace of his kicking, and questions his father, “but the sun is all the way up there. you're down here. how would that work?”

shinichiro smiles ear-to-ear, finding the genuine curiousity of his son amusing. he uses his free hand to ruffle the boy's hair, feeding him the fruit as he speaks, “because i'm your dad!”

WAKASA IMAUSHI — “realistically speaking–”

the backyard, wakasa, his toddler, a bucket of pink paint with a paintbrush, and a kid-sized vanity. it's finally daddy-daughter playtime and his little girl is energized and ready! after her well deserved nap, she's been more bouncy than ever. her steps have little jumps to it, her now messy pigtails still bounce with her, and her painted palms are evidence of the happiness.

as soon as the toddler woke up, she stared into nothingness to regain her senses. then, she immediately made it her mission to run to her dad.

“papa! papa!” was the only word heard throughout the hallways alongside her footsteps. it didn't take her any longer than a minute to find her father situated on the hammock outside.

she stopped in her tracks halfway there, raising a finger up to her mouth. it's an action she does whenever she's making a decision. wakasa looks peaceful; should she go to him or go back? of course, she goes to her dad!

when she arrived next to him, she stood on the tip of her toes to see inside the hammock. there he is, peaceful with his eyes closed. the slumber — or whatever he's doing — doesn't last for long. his newly found father instincts have been tickled and tingled. he sensed the presence of his daughter.

wakasa opened his eyes, greeting his daughter with a soft smile and lifting her onto him.

“slept well?” he asked, running his hand on top of her head in attempts to smoothen the stray hair strands.

“mhm, i did!” she nods.

“me too, princess,” he mumbles, yawning after the sentence.

the two sit in silence, enjoying the perfect weather.

toddlers aren't experts at sitting for too long. soon, she got bored and jumped off her dad's lap.

“papa, can i have a unicorn?” she pouts, patting her hands on his arm.

wakasa coughs. he accidentally choked on his saliva after hearing such a question. unicorns aren't real, and he's not going to rent a horse. it's not the same — his baby would be disappointed!

“an’ i want it to paint my table pink!” she disrupts his thoughts, adding another sentence to her previous one.

“i'm sorry princess. i can't get you a unicorn, but i can paint your table pink,” he breaks the news to her, immediately following up with a suggestion. although the unicorn won't be in the equation, the pink table will, and that's more than enough for her!

and that's the reason as to why they're surrounding her vanity with a bucket of pink paint. wakasa took his time to drag the vanity out, and his princess took her time to bring the paintbrush!

channeling his inner painter skills, he got to work as soon as she brought the brush. a little swish and swash of the brush and her vanity was eighty-percent finished. even though she lacked a brush, it didn't stop her from dipping her hands into the paint and using that as her brush. a bit of a mess, but nothing will ever get in between daddy-daughter time!

TOJI FUSHIGURO — “*lost the war and the battle*”

toji experienced more in emotions today than he's ever had in his entire life. whether it's the five stages of grief or exhaustion, he felt it all. his three-year-old daughter made sure to run her father's pockets and his mind dry. what was supposed to be a monthly home restocking run ended up being an expensive whatever-fits-in-the-cart-daddy-buys-it run. megumi got himself two lego sets, and the baby girl got herself a dollhouse.

don't be fooled; it's not just any regular dollhouse. it's a walk-in, spacious, pastel pink and white with purple accents dollhouse. toji knew the moment she stopped in her tracks with her mouth agape his card would end up maxed out.

he gulped, hoping that she doesn't turn around to him. during toji's younger days, if he didn't want to deal with something he'd pretend he doesn't see it. if he can't see it, the problem does not exist. but now, he's a father — he has duties!

as the younger sister by four years, megumi's bound to do as his sister says. the seven-year-old boy made sure to be his sister's knight the very minute she came into the world. he was in love, a little jealous, and absolutely adored her. if she wanted that dollhouse, he'd back her up!

“daddy—”

“not today, princess. not today.”

not today? such words are nonexistent in her world. something must be wrong with her father. she turns around, walking up to him with her arms stretched out. toji follows suit, bending over to lift her.

she squints at him, he pretends to not notice, megumi busies himself with his toy car while imitating the sounds of a sports car.

“i wan’ the dolly house!” she pouts, using one hand to repeatedly pat on his chest and the other pointing at the dollhouse in view.

“you can't have it today,” he explains, shooting her a small smile that has a double meaning.

again, she doesn't get it. once a child is confused, they begin using a word they won't stop using.

“why?”

“'cause i said so.”

“why?” she tilts her head.

“not today, sweetie,” he tilts his head.

“but why?” she raises an eyebrow.

toji begins to feel the stress creeping in, “because—”

“i can put my toys back if it's too much,” megumi intervenes, he's been watching them for a minute now. he, too, wants the dollhouse, but he won't say that! it's not in line with his knight image.

“no, meg'. leave it in there,” he rejects his son's offer. toji's been strong on letting megumi know he mustn't sacrifice his wants for others... and it'll be unfair if he had to put his toys back.

this almost set the three-year-old off — she wants that dollhouse! seeing that megumi's toys fit in the trolley, maybe she can break down the dollhouse and fit it in the trolley too.

“daddy, break the dolly house ‘nd put it in the trolley!” she increases the pace of the hand patting on his chest. she had a bright idea and she's going to stick to it.

toji goes silent. the idea isn't the smartest, but he felt his proud dad senses tingle. his second baby had a suggestion! an actual one! and she didn't use “why” this time!

giving in he walked towards to house, still against it but what can he do in the faces of his children? they're his weakness. he didn't win this time, but he'll win next time. this counts as the fifty-seventh lost.

SUKUNA RYOMEN — “apparently i do not have rights.”

“papa, let's play dress up.”

sukuna doesn't know if he's offended or proud. instead of a question, he was met with a statement. there weren't any greetings, any hugs, just nothing but a statement. she walked in with business! slowly, but surely, she's showing signs that she's taking after him and he's never been more proud.

however, such proudness doesn't mean he's going to twinkle and sprinkle. he's a man and will continue to look like it — not.

who told sukuna he had freedom of speech? what made him think his little carbon copy wasn't going to drag him? with her two hands securing their grip on his wrist, she walked backwards to her room. the only time sukuna accepts defeat is when he's face-to-face with her. he's a gun, but she's a bomb. it is evident that he's overpowered by her.

the moment he entered her room, he was met with instant sparkles and positivity. he knew he was about to be princess-fied and there's unfortunately nothing that can be done.

she sits him down on her stool. then, she grabs her tiara, standing on her tiptoes to place it on his hair. she gathers her toy makeup and her glitter-included perfume. sukuna's right eye twitches; he can feel the items laughing at him.

“it's makeup time!” she announces, opening the palette of six bright colours.

she dabs her finger in the purple eyeshadow. making sure there's enough pigment, she swipes it over on to his eyelids. one layer done, another to go. this time she goes in with blue just below his eyebrows. satisfied with the eyeshadow, she goes in with white in the middle to blend the colours. a perfect mix!

the next step is the blush. she whips out the blush, using three fingers to apply it this time. she repeats until she's satisfied with the amount. sukuna's cheeks are as rosy as a rose!

the last item is the lipgloss. it's also his most dreaded one. he despises the way the lipgloss feels on his lips — it's far too sticky for his liking! he'd rather use oil. in sad attempts to soften the stickyness, sukuna licks his lips.

she squeezes the tube until the gloss overflows. it's just the right amount to apply on and over his lips. her hands are a little shaky, but she's still a good makeup artist!

sukuna has now been princess-fied. due to his behaviour at her studio, she gives him a star sticker.

“papa, you're pretty now!” she compliments, clapping her hands at her creation.

sukuna took the compliment another way. was he not pretty before? did that mean she found him visually troubled? maybe she doesn't — kids are honest people, and she doesn't know how to lie yet.

[rizsu]

wants can hurt and sometimes kill. gojo satoru ( insane version )

have you ever wanted something so badly you came to hate it when you got your hands on it?

+ extra. he's a stalker + gaslighter combo, you die, can u guess the reference for this lil drabble 🌚

satoru has his needs. regardless of how important they may be, his wants will always overpower his needs. his needs are but a fraction of what he craves.

some say he's the attention seeker; his random outbursts immediately direct all kinds attention on him. the untold truth? satoru doesn't want attention — especially if it's yours. he wants to crave you, wants to remain daydreaming about "what ifs", wants to stalk from behind you like another shadow.

you shouldn't have returned his love. couldn't you do what they all do and ignore his advances? he didn't want to do what he did but you — you pushed him. the crippling love you two shared tumbled over like a stack of plastic cups in the wind: fragile, risky, yet determined to finish the piece.

you were ultimately satoru's perfect karma. his want for you destroyed him before he knew it. or maybe, just maybe, he already had his suspicions.

satoru wasn't an easy love, nor was he tough love. he lingered around you, manipulating reality so that your fate forever determined by his course of actions. he doesn't feel any guilt for his actions. instead, he blames you for this. "had you just," became his favourite sentence starter.

it's your fault for finding him attractive. your fault for giving into his love. your fault for ignoring the alarming danger signs sticking out from him like a sore thumb. your fault for calling him "insane", and "obsessive". why curse him when you knew what you were getting into?

he was content with stalking you. many times he shamelessly dropped hints that he's been illegally watching your every move. even his closest friends warned you indirectly.

"i think it'll be best to break it off with satoru," they'd say, following their concern with anything along the lines of "he's not right mentally."

"it's okay, i'm sure i can tolerate it," you'd always respond with a smile, foolishly overestimating yourself.

you loved a rose, he was a thorn.

on paper your relationship with satoru was perfect. he worshipped every cell on your body, inside and outside. he'd always be next to you, to some concern, or he'd be just a phone-call away. satoru never left your side.

you thought of him as your hero; every time you were nearing danger, satoru would jump out just in time. the sweet lie is more wanted than the bitter truth.

arguments never went overboard, he'd hate to have you mad at him. no matter what he did, satoru would always make sure his day revolved around you.

isn't he the perfect prince charming? he knew every detail about yourself. even some you had no knowledge of. you had no clue of your habit of pressing your lips into a thin line whenever things get awkward, but he did.

"have you ever loved someone so much that you begin to hate them?" a question satoru never understood, but he came to.

he loved you so much that he wanted to be in your skin. that love, when returned, transformed into a bubbling hatred.

somewhere down the line satoru found your every action disturbing. your smile he once adored became the reason he'd be annoyed. whenever something went wrong, he'd jokingly blame you but it's not a joke anymore.

the hate, combined with the love, drove him mad. there were times he became disgusted at his own hate for you, so he'd show you his love until dawn broke. but that's as much as it went.

it happened unplanned. it was another repetitive night of him blankly staring at the ceiling. the day itself was rough, nothing went right. you pitied him and sympathized when he came home. it made his goosebumps raise. you're so loving it disturbed him. couldn't you catch the hint and treat him like shit too?

he couldn't stand it. he had to get rid of it.

while you enjoyed your slumber, he sat up. satoru re-positioned himself so that he's hovering over you. his hands circled around your throat, squeezing down as tight as he can. he stayed like that for few minutes — until he told himself it was enough.

you had to go, don't blame him. don't haunt him. understand him. he had to — there was no other choice.

hopefully, if it's a fairytale, time can turn back to where he was your stalker and not lover. for now, he'll wallow until another "her" appears.

[rizsu]

it's always "liked your post" and never "reblogged your post" or "commented on your post"

[rizsu]

it should've been choso's useless ass instead

[rizsu]

professional guide on how to boyfriend jujutsu kaisen ( men ).

⤹ list ﹢ gojō satoru, sukuna ryōmen, chōsō.

﹙ syn ﹚ having near-to-zero experience with serious romantic relationships, it's time to teach them how to romance. the journey won't be easy, but the results will hopefully be fruitful.

extra. songs: betcha (bbh), seven (jk), very nice (svt).

week one : how to flirt as if you were shakespeare. note. refrain from using big words because they sound ‘cool’.

GOJO SATORU — "you're hating on my vocabulary?"

slowly, but very surely, you can feel your stress-meter rise to its peak. if someone were to animate your current expression, there will be three veins protruding out on your forehead to show your stress. it's almost as if it's second-nature for satoru to be annoying. he isn't doing it on purpose, unfortunately, it's just the way he is.

i should've ignored his call, a voice in your head speaks, i really should've. you were enjoying your own presence, simply lazing around during your off-day when three rings disrupted the peace. groaning, you reluctantly picked it up.

"hello—"

"come to enha's bakery, PLEASE," satoru's rushed voice spoke, immediately ending the call after his request-demand.

annoyance dawned and slowly transitioned into confusion. first, he needs to fix his habit of cutting you off. second, with the tone of his voice, maybe you should go.

big mistake.

not only was he chewing your ears off with talking, he also ate half of your pastry. you weren't able to get a full sentence in, he just kept going. dressed in suit and tie, hair styled and gelled up, satoru looked handsomely professional. according to what you've gathered from his rambling, he's been set up with one of the higher ups' daughter for business purposes. he needs to woo her or he's gonna lose a significant amount of pay. the problem? well, his flirting skills aren't all that. his confidence can help him, but it'll only help for a fraction of the date.

"what's the issue? you're handsome," you started, sliding your pastry back to you. "you should be able to woo her with your face alone."

"you are not wrong—"

"i'm never wrong," you cut him off.

"let me speak. anyway, i was informed that she isn't one for looks alone. i don't care about her, but she's the daughter of some high fucker," his voice reeked of defeat.

you weren't well-knowledged in satoru's field of work, but you knew he had it against the "higher ups." well, you had no choice but to know. satoru often thought of you as someone he can be free with — so, in conclusion, you were the victim of his word-vomit moments.

the two of you fell silent, thinking about solutions to save satoru. eyeing the pastry, you pondered your brain. there has to be a way to help satoru. perhaps some walkie-talkies? no, those are too loud. follow him into the restaurant and monitor his behaviour? no, that's too much work. crash his date and ask him why he's cheating on you? no, that'll probably end in your death.

satoru himself is deep in thought, already annoyed at the date that's going to become the bane of his existence in eight hours from now. should he bring you with him? maybe, but you'll deny his offer. should he ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend? no, he'd rather ask without the "pretend."

oh he's fucked.

i'm so fucked.

"wait," you leaned into the table, sporting an expression that says 'i have an idea'.

"yes?" satoru mirrors you, eyes speaking 'tell me'.

"what if i teach you how to flirt? we should have enough time to teach you how to boyfriend, right?" your idea was good. it turned the gears in both minds.

satoru opens his mouth but presses it into a thin line. there's an obstacle in the way of making this idea perfect.

"sounds good but.. the date's... tonight."

"you are fucked."

he nods at your response, feeling the salt rubbing in his wound. i guess i should just—

"but, if we go now we'll have enough time. it's 11AM, we can do it," you tapped your index finger twice on your phone's screen, showing satoru the time. if you move now, success is evident.

"let's go then," agreeing, he stands up, stuffing his car keys into his pocket and opening his wallet.

—

you've run out of pillows and whiteboard markers. the last two hours were spent either scribbling nonsense on a mini-whiteboard or throwing objects at satoru. the teaching isn't working. every lesson you've gone through ended in satoru's failure. is it on purpose? you hope it isn't.

"satoru, for the last time, that does not sound like a real word!" your hand slapped the table, physically showing your frustration.

groaning, satoru throws his head back, "you said use poetic words!"

"what part of scrumdiddlyumptious sounds poetic to you?!" you deadpanned at him.

he slouches further down the couch, grabbing his phone to search the word on google. it took him only one minute to find the word and its definition. raising up from slouching, he leans over the coffee table, stretching an arm out to show you the word.

"scrumdiddlyumptious — adjective · informal 1. (of food) extremely tasty; delicious. 2. (of a person) very attractive."

reluctant to admit defeat, you weaponized the word being informal against him, "it's not formal! you will not use it."

satoru's high of being right dies down immediately. his mouth twitches, eyes looking at you with disbelief.

"babe, you cannot be serious right now."

"babe, i am so serious right now," you mocked him, not thinking too deep into his nickname. there's no meaning behind it anyway. you, too, use babe as platonic name.

eventually, satoru tuned out your voice. he returned back to his previous slouching position, staring at you blankly as your words go in one ear and out the other.

it didn't take long for you to notice his dejected aura. does he hate it that much? you wondered, feeling a slight pity for him.

"don't worry, satoru. it's just one date."

"i will be worrying," satoru counters you, already sour at the date-to-come.

if he were to be honest, the date isn't the problem, nor is the flirting. he believes his flirting skills to be at a decent level. he also doesn't mind spending money on others. it's just that he doesn't want to entertain her. maybe, just maybe, if it were you, he'd be more excited.

you didn't say anything after him, only shooting him an annoying smile. seriously, you don't know what's worrying him. he's basically every girl's eye candy — not to mention, he looks so much like a boyfriend right now. that doesn't make a lot of sense, but if others can see what you're seeing, they'll understand. his white fitted tee accentuates his upper body's muscles, the black sweatpants do its job, his hair that's still styled, and the silver wristwatch on his hand. simple, yet sexy.

SUKUNA RYOMEN — "i'm too old for this shit."

sukuna, your sweet sukuna. your sukuna who's most likely weighing out which option is the better one to shut you up. he doesn't know why he agreed to listen to your rambles at midnight, but he's too far in to call it quitsies.

according to what you told him, you gained the idea of teaching him how to update his romance. it all came crashing to you when you were in the third-quarter of an episode of some random dating show. you blanked out most of the episode, not paying attention as the main objective of watching it was to not stare into nothing while eating.

the show itself didn't interest you, but the concept did. the participants were blindfolded, being told to use their judgement of character to choose their date. they'd have to rely on their personalities and voices to attract someone — a pretty neat idea. looks aren't everything. unfortunately, they might just be for sukuna if he doesn't work on his attitude.

often does sukuna act like he's a fifty-five-years-old office worker named penelope in the management department: old, easily annoyed, and always has something to complain about. you're probably the only human on earth who can handle sukuna for more than a day. of course, this is due to you being similar to him — if not then exactly like him. your attitudes fit together like jigsaw puzzle pieces.

sukuna's hands are clasped together behind his head, one leg raised on the bed, and torso out in the open for everyone to view. he's actively listening to you, giving his judgement here and there.

you're sitting with your legs criss-crossed, a pillow in the middle of your thighs, and hands speaking their own language. the habit of using your hands expressively when talking will never leave you.

"...so, if you were to find a girl, you neeed to be kind! no one likes a man with a stick up his ass," you warned sukuna, moving your index finger side-to-side.

"you do," sukuna says, raising an eyebrow at you.

unfortunately, he left you speechless — but not for long! you soon regained your speaking skills after realizing you don't have a good comeback.

coughing two times, you started your lesson again, "anyyyway, always tell her she's beautiful, gorgeous, breathless, or whatever. everyone loves a little compliment about their appearance!"

almost as if it's an automatic setting, sukuna replies, "what if she's facially challenged?"

"OH—" your jaw dropped. "sukuna, you can't just say that!"

he re-positions himself, this time laying on his side with his arm supporting his head.

"if someone's visually impaired i'm telling them."

you sighed, feeling disappointed at his brutual honesty, "what do you even mean by visually impaired?"

"they're ugly," he shrugs.

his tone isn't serious, implying that he's joking but you know he isn't. sukuna's a man of his word; the truth is what leaves his mouth every time. you shouldn't worry — you really, really shouldn't, but what if that's what he thinks about you? are you facially challenged in his eyes? you've gone silent, allowing yourself to drown in the thoughts.

sukuna notices your silence, sighs, and jabs your side with his foot.

"if you're thinking that i believe you're ugly, then stop," he begins, continuing the foot-jabbing-at-your-side-movement when you don't respond. "you're beautiful, believe me. you know i don't lie."

that catches your attention. you feel a sudden heat creeping up the back of your neck. keeping your voice low, you questioned him, still unsure of whether he's being truthful or not, "are you lying?"

"i swear," his voice is firm, reaching his free hand out to your thigh. physical contact to him is very important!

you return to the silence, only this time you lock your eyes in sukuna's. it's up to you to believe whether he's lying or not, and honestly, you don't care. you know he never lies, and you rather enjoy your fantasy instead of the harsh reality ( if he's truly lying ).

CHOSO — "man, fuck all that."

throughout your entire life you never expected to meet someone like choso. he is, in your words, a bitch boy. acts like a bitch, very expressive with his facial expressions, sarcastic, a male, and the worst of all, a little thief.

you humbly thought baking with choso would've been a good idea for celebrating the end of your finals. oh you were so wrong. he's messy, ate half the chocolate chips, and has been stealing spoons of cookie batter. when you confronted him, he simply said, "we can always make more," and shrugged. the audacity!

there's only so much choso someone can handle before they explode.

"you dumb fuck, how can you get a wife with this behaviour?!" you scolded, slapping his hand away from the freshly baked batch of cookies with a whisk.

he immediately retreats his hand, looking at you with an expression that says 'have you gone insane?'

"don't look at me like that," you warned, raising an eyebrow at his very well-hidden annoyance at you.

choso rolls his eyes, this time reaching the uninjured hand for the sprinkles. he sneakily slides the packet to him, intensely watching you to make sure you don't happen to see him committing such a crime. mouthing a little "yes!" at his victory, he empties half the sprinkles in his hand and throws it into his mouth.

"an’ wha’ if i ‘on't care about a wife," his words are muffled due to his mouth being filled with the sprinkles. he tries his best to hide the crunch sound, lowering his head each time he needs to crunch on some.

your back's still turned to him, simply too busy with monitoring sugar-soon-to-be-caramel on the stove.

"you're gonna have to care soon. you don't wanna die alone!" you nagged, making a point to him.

his right eyebrow raises at your words, lips ready to move at your hypocrisy, "you yourself said you don't want a partner!"

"at this point," you stopped, turning around to face choso. "i'm gonna have to teach you how to be a romantic young man."

"what are you implying...?"

"it's time for dating lessons."

"no, thank you."

unfortunately, choso has no say in this household. he had to listen. you sat him down on the chair, making sure he focuses with all his attention and doesn't steal any of the desserts. believe choso when he said he tried to take you seriously. he really did, but your messy apron along with vigorously hand-mixing batter with a serious expression as you talked his ear off caught him off-guard.

"sometimes you even have to get on your knees, choso! i'm telling you."

"i'm not doing all of that," he disagrees.

"oh, trust me. when you're in love you will," you spoke, resting the hand-mixer down to draw an invisible heart in the air.

he doesn't give you a verbal response. instead, he squints his eyes at you. when one's gone, another is born. when one stress is gone, another is born ( your nagging ). he doesn't like it one bit, but at least it's coming from you. he'd rather have you down his ears — whether it's by using your vocals or channeling your inner mother and scolding him.

[rizsu]

a look inside the chats bf!sukuna ryōmen.

extra. i'm drafting stuff ( trust n believe pls ) but theyre nowhere near finished n i needed to post a little smth 😞 !!

[rizsu]

im still laughing at rindou being blue since childhood

[rizsu]

you leave gojo in a room with a baby and trust, he will play with that baby until they fall asleep. even better if they're old enough to walk — it'll be a nonstop playtime.

if the baby waddles over to gojo and hands him a fake phone, he's gonna start questioning the ‘person’ on the phone like a police officer.

"yes? hello? who are you? for what reason are you talking to my baby?" he'll repeat questions on top of questions, pausing after the last one to make it seem as though someone's talking.

after a minute, he'll begin again, standing up with a hand on his hip and the fake phone to his ear like, "uh-huh, that's right! don't you ever call my baby's phone again."

dramatically hanging up, he'll bend over to return the phone, cooing at the doe-eyed infant and ruffling their hair.

[rizsu]

he's married ?! nanami kento.

sum. he's easily the top most handsome guy within his job. his relationship status is unknown, so what happens when his co-workers ship him with a female worker?

nanami is well known within his company. tall, insanely fit, and an attractive voice. it's not uncommon for men and women alike to find themselves thinking about him often. what's not common is knowing about his love life. no one knows anything and he would've kept it that way. but when push comes to shove, and you're shipped with someone who's not your beloved, nanami will make it known that he's not only taken but married.

in the coffee-break room there are three guys. now, there's nothing unusual about this — no, no. they're just three guys that are co-workers... except there's a twist. they aren't your regular co-workers, they're your uncommon trio of male gossipers and nanami just so happened to be their newest victim.

"shh, shh! he's here," guy one, tichi, whispers to the others, raising his eyebrows and pointing his chin to nanami's position.

the other two take a quick glance, nodding their heads when they've seen nanami's back faced towards them. it's a perfect moment to strike up a conversation, especially since it's just four men here.

guy two, tacho, shuffles his feet to the empty space near nanami. he pretends to open a sugar packet, fiddling with it as his eyes peep over nanami's shoulder. his heart skips multiple beats when the man himself turns around.

"morning to you, tacho," nanami greets, nodding his head before he turns his attention back to his cup of coffee.

"y-yeah, morning!" he stutters, awkwardly smiling in return. he turns his head to the other two in the background, mouthing the word 'help' to them. unfortunately, they do not give the aid to their friend. instead, tichi fakes a series of coughs and guy three, toeny, gives him a confident double thumbs up. there's no hope, tacho sighs.

it's a silent moment between the men — only the sounds of coffee brewing and a spoon coming into contact with the mug can be heard. tacho's mouth itches him, he happened to remember his group's recent conversation about nanami. he must ask — even if it costs him a mutual co-worker.

"so, nanami," he begins, waiting for nanami to give him the undivided attention.

nanami doesn't face him, but he hums in response. tacho doesn't mind this as an answer, so he continues, "i was wondering if the rumors of you being with the new worker, yeri, are true?"

there is one big lie in that question: there are no such rumors. it's just a theory the trio has been gossiping about every night. nanami's been helping out yeri for quite some time, one can only think that they have a special connection going on.

"that is bullshit," nanami gives a firm answer. nothing more, nothing less.

tacho's stunned, he blinks a few times to recollect himself. "oh — so you're not with her?"

nanami doesn't answer yet, but the two in the back give their unwanted reactions. tichi clicks his tongue three times, shaking his head in disappointment at tacho's second question. it's obvious dumbass, he thinks. toeny, on the other hand, presses his lips in a thin line, pretending to read a magazine that's been on the counter.

nanami reaches into his pocket, whipping out his phone. the trio's confused until nanami speaks.

"i am married man. this is my wife," he educates, pressing the power button to show you as his lockscreen.

he collects three gasps, internally nodding at their shock. that's right, i'm gladly taken.

"all this time you've been... MARRIED?!" tacho's voice heightens, he drops his spoon in shock. it's unbelievable yet somewhat believable.

nanami breathes out a 'yes', raising his arm to show the wristwatch. "she bought this for our five-years anniversary recently. it's quite expensive, going over four-thousand," he brags, emphasizing on key words.

he's been waiting for the precious day where someone indirectly asks for his relationship status. the day has come and he will spend it bragging about his beloved.

nanami doesn't give them a chance to speak, he carries on with his bragging, "she's a very lovely woman. all my bentos are made by her and she writes little notes for each. some may think it's childish but that's bullshit! they just haven't experienced the love of a woman. matter of fact, her most beautiful moments are when she's freshly awake. the smile she gives me is nothing but angelic."

his speech doesn't stop there, but it did for the trio. his words went in one ear and out the next. nanami's blabbering about his wife immediately set a blank face upon tichi, tacho, and toeny. they're jealous and also surprised.

"the way a woman can change a man will never not be amazing," toeny whispers, blankly gazing at nanami's ongoing speech.