hello! i'm syxilla, and when i get bored, i like 2 write things about characters i like :)
Request status: Closed!
What I do: SFW, suggestive, male fem and gn reader, (more to be added)
What I won't do: explicit NSFW, (idk so more to be added)
-◇Rules for requests!
• I'm in a lot of Fandom, surprise me w ur requests
●Please be specific with the requests! Tell me who, the plot and what pronouns you'd like (default will be gn)
●Some stories may get a second part, some may not! If a story doesn't have a 2nd part it's sully because it's meant to be that way (you're supposed to be able to imagine whatever happens off camera)
•All constructive criticism is welcome! Just please be nice with your wording because I'm sensitive-
Likes and reblogs are appreciated but aren't a requirement!
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Synopsis: frat boy!gojo, your boyfriend, got himself blocked on all of your socials. it was his fault, even he knows that - spamming your girl with dick pics whilst she's studying for an important exam was only ever going to end one way.
you've practically forced him to resort to a means of communication he didn't know still existed. and well, he's gonna have fun with it.
Warnings: some sexual content, 18+, cursing, college au, can be read as a standalone but is a part of my EdenU au, gojo is dramatic, reader is done with him, reader is goth and female, established relationship, not proofread
Dear most gorgeous girl in the world,
You’re killing me.
Please unblock me on iMessages, Insta, Snap, Facebook/Messenger, Whatsapp, X (sorry Twitter or whatever liberal agenda you’re on now), Discord, Reddit, Letterboxd, LinkedIn, Spotify, and Tumblr. How did you even know I was stalking you on Tumblr? Do you have a girlfriend sixth sense? Like does your clit tingle when you realise I’m near? Cause my balls speak to me when you’re within a mile radius, like “yeah, boys? you feel her? where? lead the way!”
If you gave me a chance, instead of instantly blocking me (heartless meanie), you’d know I am very, very apologetic. I’ll stop spamming you my dick pics, even though you should be honoured to receive reminders of how hard just the thought of your name makes me.
Love,
Your sad big-dicked daddy :(((
Dear Gojo Satoru,
Clearly you can’t take a hint. Let me spell it out for you.
I.
Am.
Busy.
Leave.
Me.
Alone.
Unhappily,
Your girlfriend
P.S. Do not call yourself ‘big-dicked daddy.’ It upsets me greatly.
From: [email protected]
Subject: keep being mean to me please im close
Dear adorable goth baby,
You’re so hot when you’re being mean. I already know you’re frowning in that cute way that makes me want to smother you in kisses and you’re rolling your eyes so hard NGH!
I already said I’m sorry.
Please give me another chance.
I’m so damn bored I started playing spin the bottle alone in my room. I made out with that picture of you sleeping with drool down your chin. Picture You was even getting handsy. ‘Down girl!’ I said. ‘Bad!’
Stay tight,
Toru (not Gojo Satoru, that’s like a slur coming from you, very triggering stuff)
P.S. I am your big-dicked daddy tho I’m confused?
Satoru,
I gave you multiple chances when I asked you to stop and give me at least 5 hours to study before we go out for dinner and I entertain you, you giant freaking child. But no, you just had to hound me with your dick, like I was supposed to be dickmatised and persuaded to drop everything at your beck and call.
Fuck, I’m getting mad all over again.
Stop emailing me. You’re gonna see me at 7pm for our date anyways. You can last 4 more hours.
Yours not for long,
Girl who just wants to pass
Sweetiepie :(
I’m sorry.
I thought it was gonna motivate you to work hard. Pwease forgive me. Pwease? Towu is vewy vewy sowwy.
In fact, I’m so so so sorry, I’ll pay for dinner tonight. Scout’s honour.
Asking for mercy and forgiveness,
Your boyfriend no matter what
From: [email protected]
Subject: dinner? that the best you can offer?
You always pay for dinner. Last time I offered, you damn near wrestled me in the middle of the restaurant so you could get your card out first. We’re still banned from there, remember?
Btw, you were never a Scout, don’t play with me.
Dear love of my life who doesn’t understand how email etiquette works,
Of course I always pay for dinner — you’re broke and your family is destitute, I remind you lovingly. But even if you were as rich as me, or even richer (which isn’t possible, not to flex), I would still pay every single time. It’s the least I can do for reparations for the violence committed by my gender against yours. Plus, that restaurant sucked anyway — the owner is problematic towards immigrants and the servers don’t even know if the meat is locally and ethically sourced, like hello??? In the big 2025?!?
How’s studying going?
Do you need a snack or a smoothie to boost you?
I can drop by. Promise I won’t linger. I just didn’t see a purchase on my card for breakfast or lunch. Please don’t starve. If I can’t watch your ass jiggle when I hit it from the back, I’m gonna be devastated.
Yours most sincerely,
Satoru
P.S. You have to be a Scout to say Scout’s Honour? Crazyyyyyy
Dear Satoru (happy now?),
Please don’t remind me of my family’s shortcomings. You know I like to pretend I came from a normal background. And stop being more woke than me. It’s hot.
Studying’s fine, I guess. I think I forgot how to study. I’ve missed a lot of content too. If a certain someone hadn’t been clinging to me so tightly every morning, maybe I wouldn’t be so behind. God, you make my life so hard.
A smoothie and pastry would be lovely, actually. I can’t be bothered leaving my room to get some food. Just drop it off outside and disappear by the time I open the door — if I see even a glimmer of white hair, I’m going to freak.
Thanks.
Love begrudgingly,
A girl who’s gonna fail her exam
Dear cutie,
I don’t cling to you that hard. You’re dramatic. I wonder where you got that from. And last I checked, we have a safeword you can use anytime to get me away from between your legs if you really wanted to get to class. But I like our game where you pretend you’re not just as obsessed with me as I am with you (I know you get all hot and bothered when I reference Marx, dirty girl)
Food’s outside babe. The line was stupid long and I ran into Fushiguro — remember the guy I told you has the highest body count on campus?
He’s in a relationship now and he’s so pussywhipped lmaoooo
Couldn’t be me.
Hoping you’ll stuff your face and get all the brain power you need,
Satoru
I told you to disappear before I could see you.
You didn’t have to kiss me and hump my leg you animal. My neighbours were NOT happy with the pornographic noises you made, asshole.
Yeah, I remember Toji. Cool dude. Always wearing gym wear no matter the weather and for some reason hates you. Don’t make fun of him for being loyal and loving to his girlfriend. You’re probably so much worse. I envy his girlfriend. She probably doesn’t have to put up with a yapper who spams her with dick pics.
Thank you for the food though. Very appreciated. What I didn’t appreciate, however, was the number and the smiley face on my drink. I already told you, if someone tries to hit on you, bark at them and tell them you have a girlfriend you worship endlessly.
Look:
Dear angry girlfriend I do in fact worship endlessly and beyond,
I’m sorry I didn’t follow your exact orders but I desperately needed a kiss from my girl. If I don’t get my daily dose, I wilt, like a rose. You know this.
And disrespectfully, f your neighbours. It wasn’t anything they hadn't heard from us before. Sensitive ears ahhh
About Fushiguro — he does not hate me. Why does everyone say that?
We’re actually besties. We’re like dumb and dumber, but dumber is him obvi. Plus, once he gets some shots in him, he’s super in love with me. I get more over the clothes action from him than from you lol
You never need to thank me for feeding you. I fear that’s like bare minimum. Get those standards up girl.
Oh and sorry about the drink. I didn’t even notice. Leave it outside your door and I’ll get you a new one. I’ll even make a scene and call the manager over. Maybe I’ll buy the store and get everyone fired. Just give me the word babe.
Yours forever,
Satoru
Dear my sweetest, most frustrating boyfriend,
Fine, I’ll forgive the kiss (I might have needed it too). And yeah, f my neighbours because the guy on my left loves playing Doctor Who Season 8 on repeat and on full volume every night like clockwork. It’s not even the best season!
Forget about the drink. Just don’t ever go back there again. Number and smiley face aside, the drink is abysmal and tastes like bog water. Pastry is great though. 10/10
You’d really make a scene for me?
Yours occasionally,
No longer starving girlfriend
Dear the Morticia to my Gomez,
I’d make a scene for you at the drop of a hat. I’d serenade you in malls, on campus, in a Michelin star restaurant, and in a lecture. Heck, I’d yell ‘BOMB’ in an airport if you asked me to – just maybe not an airport we frequent.
There’s quite literally nothing I wouldn’t do for you. If you didn’t know that already, then I’m not as great of a boyfriend as I thought I was. I will remedy that immediately, my goddess eternal.
Obsessedly yours,
Your husband in every way but legally (we can fix that)
Dear Toru,
Stop being sweet. It’s disgusting.
Come inside already. I’m done pretending I’m getting anything from the textbooks. I’m only giving myself a headache.
the highest recorded wet bulb temperatures in the world occur in india, jsyk. in odisha, they’ve hit 34.6 degrees celsius. the human survivability limit is 35 degrees celsius but the body faces significant risks, potentially fatal risks, even at 30 degrees as it starts failing to cool itself, like i’m talking organ failure levels of risk. climate change isn’t coming to peak, it’s been in the global south where you can’t see it or feel it.
imagine temperatures that high and humidity as high as 75%—you make more heat than you can ever cool. your sweat cannot evaporate fast enough. you literally boil alive. heat deaths in india are underreported and they already hit the thousands. there is no plan, for a nation of almost 2 billion people. no plan. nothing.
in another life, i would make you stay a gojo satoru (fix it) series
pairing ⸺ reincarnated!gojo x reincarnated!reader
summary ⸺ you are a sorcerer, married to your husband who bears the burden of being the strongest. firsthand, you watch the love of your life fall apart, the world burdening him until, finally, he dies at the hand of sukuna. as you watch him through the broadcast, you blankly volunteer to be nextand you die, praying to whatever merciful god out there that, in another life, you and satoru get the happy ending you both deserved—
until you wake up from your dream, gasping.why the hell was your dream so vivid? you were some sort of magician? with a smoking HOT husband? and why the fuck does the guy that's ten minutes late to the first day of lectures look EXACTLY like him?
warnings ⸺eventual smut fluff and angst (the holy trinity), hurt/comfort, reincarnation fic, basically you and gojo have a miserable life in canon and get reincarnated into a modern au where i fix everything and give you the romcom you deserve, canon typical violence, jjk manga spoilers, mentions of blood and injury, major character death, fem reader implied
masterlist
01 ⸺ What a Weird Fucking Dream
the first day of your semester is precendeted by a very odd dream involving sorcerers and a hot ass husband. which you then see in lecture (3.7k)
02 ⸺ Note to Self: Don't Call Random Guys your Husband (soon!)
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after all the pain you endured during your delivery, SUKUNA refuses to ever let his wife go through it again
★ based of that one scene in "when life gives you tangerines"
11 hours, 34 minutes, and 34 seconds. then 40. then more. sukuna counts them all without meaning to, like something wired too deep into him to stop. each second stretching, dragging, carving itself into his bones as time refuses to move fast enough.
his eyes burn, raw and unforgiving, a kind of ache he’s never known. not even in those long, merciless nights bent over a laptop back in his college days. this is worse. dark circles bruise the skin beneath his eyes, lashes still damp.
he sits rigid in a cheap, dark blue hospital chair, one that creaks every time he so much as breathes too deeply, yet he hasn’t moved from it in hours. maybe longer. his body feels locked in place, but his mind drifts, slipping in and out of a dull haze until the sound of a door jolts him upright again, sharp, alert, feral in the way his gaze snaps toward it. every time without fail. his hands rest on his knees, fingers twitching, trembling despite himself, nails pressing into fabric as if grounding himself is the only thing keeping him together.
the baby is fine. he knows she is. he’s checked too many times for anyone to comment on without risking the look he’d give them. each visit ends the same way: standing on the other side of the glass, large hand pressed flat against it, breath fogging the surface as something unfamiliar tightens in his chest. he doesn’t stay long. he can’t. not when you’re not there.
everything in him had gone cold— no, empty the moment they rushed you away. the world had narrowed down to the sight of you on that bed, face twisted in pain, your fingers clutching his with a strength that spoke of fear you rarely ever showed. and he had felt it too, sharp and suffocating, coiling tight in his chest in a way he couldn’t fight, couldn’t control.
then a clipboard had been shoved into his line of sight, a nurse speaking too quickly. “mr. ryomen, you need to sign this form in case the baby—”
“my wife.”
his voice had cut through hers without hesitation. not loud nor panicked. just final.
for a moment, everything had stilled. even you had looked at him, eyes wide despite the pain. He hadn’t even looked back at the paper.
“i choose my wife.”
after that, they had forced him out, the doors closing between you with a finality that made something ugly claw at his ribs. since then, all he’s done is wait, endless, suffocating waiting, counting seconds like they’re the only thing he has left to hold onto.
people came. of course they did. gojo, loud and insufferable even in a hospital, arms filled with gifts that cost more than necessary. geto, calm, offering congratulations that barely registered. toji lingering off to the side, megumi in his arms as he tried, awkwardly, to show him the newborn through the glass, jin nearby with itadori and choso, their presence filling the hallway with low conversation and quiet excitement.
sukuna acknowledged none of it beyond a glance at best.
because none of it mattered.
not the gifts, not the voices, not the child he had already seen and silently loved.
the only thing on his mind was you.
his wife.
“mr. ryomen?”
his name lands and something in him snaps taut and slack all at once. sukuna is on his feet before he’s fully aware of moving, the chair scraping faintly behind him. the sudden shift makes his vision tilt for a second, exhaustion catching up, but he steadies through it, jaw set, legs carrying him forward even as they threaten to give.
“she’s awake, everything is stable. you may see her now.”
that’s all he needs.
the door barely has time to open before he’s through it, pace quick, bordering on reckless, yet each step feels impossibly heavy as the weight of the past hours clings to him, refusing to let go. the sterile white of the room greets him, too bright, too clean, and then—
you.
everything else falls away.
you’re laid against the stark sheets, small in a way he’s never seen you before, exhaustion carved into every line of your face, the aftermath of something brutal and beautiful all at once. you look fragile. spent. human.
and still— still you’ve never looked more perfect to him.
his chest tightens, something sharp and overwhelming lodging itself beneath his ribs as his eyes lock onto yours. they find him easily, soft despite the fatigue, a faint smile ghosting over your lips as your hand lifts, barely reaching for him.
“my love…” your voice is hoarse, worn thin, and it nearly undoes him.
he closes the distance in seconds, dropping to his knees at your bedside without care for anything else, large hand immediately enclosing yours as if to confirm you’re real, warm and alive. here. he brings it to his face, pressing slow, reverent kisses to your knuckles, your palm, your wrist, lingering like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you all over again.
something wet slips against your skin.
“ryo…?” your voice is softer now, concerned, your fingers twitching as if to pull away, but he doesn’t let go not out of force, never that, but out of something far more desperate.
he tightens just enough to keep you there, head bowed, shoulders trembling in a way that doesn’t belong to a man like him.
“there…” his voice catches, rough, uneven, breath hitching as the memory crashes back; your face twisted in pain, the sound of it, the helplessness of being torn away. his brows pull together sharply, grip faltering for a second before tightening again. “there won’t be another.”
he presses another kiss to your skin, slower this time. like sealing a vow into you.
“there won’t be another,” he repeats, quieter, but no less absolute.
you blink at him, caught off guard, and then despite everythin a soft, breathy laugh escapes you. “don’t be stupid, ryo.”
his head lifts just enough for you to see the way his expression twists, raw and unguarded, eyes rimmed red, lashes clumped.
“i don’t—” his breath stutters, voice breaking in a way he doesn’t bother to hide, “—want to see you like that again.” his hand curls into the sheets beside you, gripping the fabric tight as if grounding himself, “not like that. not ever.”
you soften instantly, both hands coming up carefully to cradle his face, guiding him closer despite the way he resists for half a second.
“did you see her?” you murmur, thumb brushing beneath his eye, catching the dampness there.
he nods, quick, almost eager despite everything, leaning into your touch without thinking. “i did… but—” his voice drops, “i wanted to see my wife.”
“oh, ryo…” you pull him closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, then the bridge of his nose, and finally his lips; soft, lingering, tasting faintly of salt.
he exhales against you, eyes closing briefly, forehead coming to rest against yours as his hand finds its place around yours again, unwilling to let go.
“there won’t be another,” he says, quieter now. final.
you study him for a moment. at the fear still lingering beneath the surface, and the love that outweighs everything else, and your expression softens into something certain.
“okay,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his. “there won’t.”
★ it's 2:49am i should fucking sleep but i finally got the idea how to write this and i had to
SYNOPSIS ᯓ★ After months of cold shoulder from your boyfriend, the relationship finally comes to an end when a Reddit post spiraled into your best friend’s orbit, and the poster? Your own boyfriend. The embarrassment and shame brought onto your name began tumbling when he thinks you will come back —like you always do, he quotes— to him. However, this time your best friend had a plan in mind to prove your snobbish ex-boyfriend wrong. To set you up with her friend . . . Who is also going through a messy break up scenario of his own.
PAIRING ᯓ★ nerd! gojo satoru x fem! reader
TAGS ᯓ★ does not follow the original jjk plot . suggestive content . no smut (it is implied that gojo and the reader had sex, but will not be described) . gojo and the reader are in their 20s . pokemon lover gojo . gojo is a middle school student teacher . cursing . mentions of sex . naoya cameo . romcom stuff . fake dating . mentions of cheating (not done by gojo or the reader) . shoko cameo . suguru cameo . loneliness . slow updates
TAGLIST 𐔌 0 / 50 , open 𐦯 ᯓ★ . . .
NOTE ᯓ★ divider credits to @kthice & art credits to @dewbiscuits , logbook div made by me (raaaahh) ⟡ this is a rewritten version of my old CAITA, there will be a lot of changes in the plot because I didn’t like the original one when I reread it. Just a little reminder that this one will probably take longer, especially with my thesis and graduation coming up. Then I would actually have to find an actual full-time job and not internships (j#b, ew). Anyways, I really hope that everyone will like the new version of CAITA. Thank you for following the story up until this point sjkjkdjdkjs, enjoy!
૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ℘rologue ， chapter one ， chapter two ， chapter three ， chapter four ， chapter five ， chapter six ， chapter seven ， more to be added ♡
frat!jo has a big, fat embarrassing crush on you (and handles it very poorly).
tags. fluff. angst but not really LMFAO. college au. stupidstupid gojo.
satoru has never considered himself to be very charming. sure, he's been with a few ladies here and there, and yeah, he thinks he's pretty good in bed.
the problem? that's with women he doesn't care about. they flock to him like birds when he offers so much as a half-hearted nod of the head.
you, however, are a different case.
no matter now hard he tries, you simply never look in his direction. you don't see him as a person, but rather, a rumor. a whisper. the guy every girl should watch out for.
he's done it all. wearing a t-shirt with your favorite band on it when he knew he'd pass you in the halls. making sure your name is on every party invite list even though you aren't the type to go out on fridays. going to your favorite cafe to "study" and drink strawberry-fucking-matcha lattes because you like that shit and fuck it, so will he if it means he has a chance of running into you.
but nothing. you remain a fragment of his life, out of his reach but within plain sight. it's a modern form of torture, he's sure of it.
he's about to do the usual. it's a party. there's lots of beer and women, which is just enough to distract him from his boy-crush on the girl who sits in front of him in english 101.
but before he can scoop up the first willing, horny, girl, he spots a familiar shadow. he nearly drops his red cup and spills beer everywhere. the girl he was just entertaining? yeah, he leaves her mid-conversation.
it's you.
you don't look too happy about being here, but you're here, alright. leaning against a wall, sipping a definitely non-alcoholic beverage, chuckling lightly at the poor jokes your friend group passes around.
oh god, you're so cute. he's never seen you like this before. your hair is styled in a cute little updo, strands falling to frame your face. your outfit is a simple pair of jeans with a devastatingly tight crop top.
you laugh--this time for real--when someone trips and falls over in a comical manner.
he has to talk to you. now or never.
he's in his element, really. alcohol buzzes through his veins, giving him a false sense of confidence and a glow that he's sure makes him look extra attractive. or so he hopes, at least.
he strides over, slipping through people with practiced ease until he finds himself leaning on the wall next to you.
confidence satoru. godspeed. you're the fucking man.
he takes a deep breath.
"hey, haven't i seen you around somewhere before?"
you turn your head, only just now noticing him. you eye him up and down.
"uh, no?"
okay. nailed that.
he shakes his head, trying to recover.
"maybe look again?" he puts on his best smouldering expression, hoping that he's giving Handsome Man, and not Douchebag.
from the look on your face, he's giving Douchebag.
you snort. "yeah, no. never seen you. hope that doesn't hurt your ego too much." with a light chuckle, you start walking away.
no, no, no. abort mission. change tactics. he can't have screwed up already!
"hey, wait!" he calls out, grabbing your wrist and also the attention of literally everyone else in the room.
it goes still for a moment. not quiet, but still. some people stare. he can already hear their thoughts.
is THE gojo satoru struggling to hit on a girl? sheeeesh.
okay, he needs to be suave so he doesn't look stupid. at that moment, he pulls you backward and into his chest, letting you tumble into him like a damsel in distress.
"not so fast, sweetheart," he murmurs into your ear, instinctively doing what usually works for him.
you push off of him with a sneer.
"fuck off!" you yell. "don't be weird."
welp. now satoru wants to die. why can't he be a normal guy in front of you? but alas, his pride persists.
"come on," he drags, shoving his hands into his pockets with faux-nonchalance. "don't play hard to get now."
you roll your eyes, turning away with an air of finality.
"god, this is why i hate frat boys," you mumble under your breath.
as satoru watches you drift into the sea of sweaty bodies, taking a sip of his beer like his heart and ego wasn't just crushed, he thinks that he hates being one too.
notes. i love stupid pining men who don't know how to hit on women. HEHE. next will be nerdjo methinks. in my fluff era right now. also requests are open! love u thank u for reading! <3
content: 101 dalmatians au, all fluff, this is just the love story part cause idc i need toshi fluff and i need it now
creds: art from kookiechimm on twt
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ who adopted a puppy a few months back, a long haired dachshund girl, sweetest thing in the world with big eyes and a heart full of love. he'd immediately bought every matching equipment to litter around his apartment for his baby. food bowls, leashes, a soft bed, toys and even multiple collars with pendants customized to have his and her name on each side–a soft pink collar with a heart pendant, a blue one with a bone, and another brown one with a silver paw.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ had named her 'darl', short for darling, because that's exactly what she was. his sweet, tiny darling who wouldn't even eat if satoshi wasn't sitting beside her, one hand on her soft fur. fur that he had to groom himself because his daughter was an ankle biter to anyone who wasn't gojo satoshi. even his twin brother. especially his twin brother. little thing who wouldn't stay more then three feet away from the safest man she knew.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ who always took darl to the dog park that was nearly half an hour away from his place, because that was the biggest one and his princess needs space to run around without crashing into another dog, even if she was only as big as his forearm. she'd wander around at the water supply every time they went. walking around before her eyes found you, the pretty lady sitting in shade as she'd coo at the dog in her lap. definitely a dachshund like darl, definitely a boy, because you kept repeating "good boy" each time he'd return a kiss to his head with a swift lick to your neck or chin.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ who followed darl around and eventually saw you as well, looking so sweet in your tennis skirt and stockings, your own dog jumping around chasing butterflies while you laughed and clicked photos from a distance. if satoshi had to take an educated guess, he'd say that darl was more fascinated than him, given how she always looked at your dachshund with a kind of wonder in her eyes unique to darl.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ who was blissfully unaware that you were also looking. always were. wondering who the tall, handsome, unbelievably jacked man was, wandering behind a tiny little pup. it was also apparent to you that dex, your baby boy was also into a certain lady that could only be spotted near a certain young man with snow white hair.
perhaps it was fate, or perhaps it was just little darl being awfully bold that one fine afternoon that ˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ found himself a bit too close to you after darl tangled her pink leash around the two of you, legs stumbling around and chests pressed tight against one another. satoshi swore he could untangle the leash in record time, bending over to pick his girl up, who escaped by a hair and jumped into the small pond, making both of you topple over and down into the water.
you swore you saw a look of pure triumph on darl's face as she jumped out of the pond to go sniff dex instead, who had just been staring as if he wasn't guilty of jumping on the two of you just as you fell.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ struggled to come up with anything to say, even then. only able to blurt out, "i am really, really sorry about this. i swear darl's usually so calm...maybe i haven't let her be active enough...? but i swear i take her on walks twice and—"
you laughed at the immediate rambling he went off with, smoothing down your skirt and wringing water out of your hair.
"it's alright, really. i think i should apologise for dex being the one to try and push us over. oh wait let me–," you rummaged through your purse to pull out a handkerchief, only to sigh in disappointment when it was dripping as well. it probably would've been more embarrassing if satoshi hadn't tried to give you his as well.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ had definitely fallen in love now. watching you gently pet his darl and coddle her as you introduced yourself in real time was as if cupid had struck him with his most effective arrow ten times over already. it was also thanks to darl taking a liking to you immediately, given how fussy she'd always get if anyone other than her doting father held her.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ went home that day absolutely beaming because finally, finally he had your name, your number and a play date fixed for your furballs. satoshi had to reward darl's immaculate wing-womanship with many cuddles and treats too, of course.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ could barely sleep the night before the play date. he'd be seeing you again, all pretty and dolled up, cuddling dex and kissing his small head like he was your baby. and he really was your baby, just as darl was his. he'd even hear your pretty voice reprimand him gently when he made fun of both dogs looking like sausages every time.
˚⋆𐙚｡𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ who finally mustered up enough courage after three whole months to ask you out on a real date, nearly squealing like a schoolgirl when you said yes with just as much excitement, if not more. it'd be just the two of you, maybe watching a movie, then getting dinner somewhere nice. he hoped that maybe he could kiss you under the stars the same night.
funny how that played out, because three years later, you're sitting with him, on the same sofa, watching the same movie you both saw in the cinema on your first date. the only difference being both darl and dex were grown up, all with a tiny litter of pups that were just learning how to bark.
oh, and not to mention the engagement rings on your finger, a replica of his.
author: thank you @mimuju for beta reading this ilysm lemme eat your ass
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nerdjo’s a fool for his pretty, high maintenance girlfriend.
I. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #107 : “BUT TORU, I DON’T GET IT..”
11:57 am location: SC/MATH 3020 (Vari Hall, Room B)
you’re supposed to be solving laplace equations. instead, you’re sending satoru doodles of you pregnant with his child.
satoru gojo is jacques marie mage glasses & messy blanche hair & forearms thicker than his head. he should be studying—god, he should be, but his pretty girl is texting him mid-lecture & satoru’s something of a fool for you so he foolishly decides, who is he not to reply ?
and his replies are earnest. always earnest. too punctuated, too grammatically correct.
toruu : You’re the cutest girl in the world.
toruu : Pay attention, okay?
his first message makes your heart swelter & bloom. the second makes it drop to your ass.
but satoru gojo is honey mouthed & heart-achingly sweet. and when your boyfriend asks you to focus so sweetly, how could you not obey?
so you open your notebook & close it right back.
you : toru i tried :( i don’t get ittttrt
toruu : Send me the question.
and you do. along with a selfie of your cute pout, of course. satoru’s reply comes in in an instant:
toruu : Gorgeous girl.
toruu : Okay, try isolating the variable first.
you do as he says. satoru’s instructions always come easy-sweet. sugar coated & simplified like he’s talking to the softest girl in the world. & perhaps he is.
toruu : Good. Now distribute.
toruu : Yes. That’s it. Keep going.
toruu : That’s perfect, baby. My smart girl.
your cheeks grow mushy & sticky & heart-wrenchingly soft.
satoru gojo is going to be the death of you.
II. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #126 : LOVER BOYS DON’T IGNORE THEIR GIRLFRIENDS !
time : 1:48 pm. location: york lanes ( indoor mall )
“satoru hasn’t texted me in fifteen minutes.”
“they faces killing me why nobody give a fuck.”
you ignore shoko & her bitter response. you’d rather die than argue with a bitch & her bad bob. you lean to rest your head on suguru’s shoulder, who’s much more empathetic & strokes your hair lovingly.
“isn’t he tutoring right now?”
and he is. somewhere across campus, in a cramped corner of the scott library, gojo satoru is bleary-eyed & suffering.
he’s supposed to be explaining calculus to confused first year yuuji itadori. but his phone, face-up & gleam-screened on the mahogany table, hums and vibrates with desperation.
1 new message: princess 🧸💗 1 new message: princess 🧸💗 1 new message: princess 🧸💗
satoru’s jaw is tight. there’s crescent shaped crevices in his palms & his knuckles rouse rash red. his focus flickers. he catches a glimpse of your latest message: the preview of a selfie, that low adorable angle where you’re peering at your phone from under your lashes & your lips jut out in a ‘where are youuu’ pout.
fuck.
“uhh, gojo?” yuuji’s biting his pencil again before he points it at the vibrating device. “aren’t you gonna answer that..? i dunno, it looks important.”
it is important. it’s you. but if satoru answers now, poor yuuji’s paid tutoring session would immediately be over.
“it’s fine, yuuji. let’s focus on finding the derivative.”
and it is fine. because gojo satoru is a man of logic. a man of discipline. a man of pa—
princess 🧸💗: i always knew you’d get tired of me one day
princess 🧸💗: it’s okay. thank you for everything toru 👍
gojo satoru grabs the phone faster than you can say go pandas! his thumbs fly over the screen, ever precise, ever trembling.
toruu: Baby, please don’t say that.
toruu: I’m almost done. I’ll be with you in ten minutes. I’ll buy you that Drake meal you wanted.
toruu: I love you. Please wait for me?
back at the mall you’re reading his text. and god, your heart bubbles up like soda pop. “he’s coming,” you murmur into suguru’s shoulder, scrolling past his text without a reply.
“great!” shoko cheers with fake enthusiasm, taking a puff of her vape (suguru’s complaining that the pineapple & kiwi she blows make his poutine taste sour-ish, & she shouldn’t be vaping anyway, but guess what? shoko doesn’t care!)
“now can we stop acting like it’s the summer hikaru died?”
“no.”
instagram’s algorithm is always on your side. you’ve opened the reels tab to find a video of a rainy window, a quote captioned over it: ‘if he wanted to, he would. silence is a choice.’ simple. short. effective.
you add it to your story. suguru catches a glimpse of your screen & chuckles.
“y/n,” he sings your name, tutting. “you’re gonna give the boy a heart attack before he even hits the common area.”
“he deserves it.”
satoru gojo has already viewed your story. he shows up within the next five minutes.
III. PRINCESS MELTDOWN #167: BABY, I’M BORED.
time : 3:58 pm. location: science & engineering building
there’s solution bubbling pink in a flask. in lab four, the air’s sticky with the sweat of too many boys with glasses & a half-drunk energy drink rotting in the corner.
gojo satoru is huddled over a circuit board with two other boys who look like they haven’t seen sunlight in days.
nerd #1 points at the monitor : “if we adjust the frequency here,” he’s muttering, “the entire wave function collapses. it’s an impossible solve, gojo.”
“it’s not impossible. you’re just missing the constant.”
gojo satoru is the god of lab four; formulas on his fingers & equations on his tongue. he’s leaning over now, fingers on the screen when the heavy steel door swings open,
“hi, toru!”
you’re all soft perfume & clicky heels & smile as sweet as sugar. satoru’s head snaps up instantly—his glasses slip down his nose, & he flicks them back upward, eyes glimmering in the fluorescent light.
“hi sweetheart,” he breathes, “you’re here early.”
the other nerds are staring now, and for good reason. how did gojo satoru—who’s paperbacks & friday nights spent bent over research papers—pull a pretty thing like you ?
“are you doing science ?” you’re already across the room, arms around his neck as his palms press you flush against him from the side. your perfume’s sticky in his lungs. “why’s that line so squiggly? you guys should make it straight. it’d be much prettier.”
nerd #4 winces. “actually, that’s a representation of—“
“you’re right, baby. it would look prettier. have a seat, okay?”
you hum an okay! & plop yourself down on his lap. nerd number 3 & 2 exchange glances. nerd #1 asks, god, me when ?
the group discussion starts up again. satoru is half-science half-yours—his thumb traces circles on your thigh as your feet kick in his lap, & you’re asking one too many questions while satoru tries—tries to pay attention.
“toru, what does this button do?”
“that’s the power supply, baby. please don’t touch it.”
“but it’s glowing. can you make it glow pink ? i think it should glow pink.”
“noted. you’re squirming, princess.”
and you are. nerd #4 wonders how you’re still balanced. the discussion continues but you’re a constant background noise of ‘toru, look at this tiktok’, and ‘baby, i think the lighting’s washing me out.’ you try to touch a wire. gojo catches your hand mid-air & cups it with a kiss.
you flop against his chest. “satoru, i’m bored.”
& satoru is tired. exhausted, really. he’s fighting the rash creeping up his neck as nerds one to four watch you pout in his lap like a spoiled child. “i want matcha. can we go get some?”
you can’t. because this is a project due in twelve hours. because satoru has only so much time to lock in—
“alright, let’s go.”
nerd #3 is distraught: “huh—?! gojo, you can’t leave now, we’re in the middle of a breakthrough!”
satoru doesn’t even look around. he’s smoothing your skirt after you hop off his lap, your bag already slung over his shoulder. he’s leading you out by the hand; “sorry guys. i’ll send my solution to the group chat. brief me on the updates later?”
the door swings shut. nerds one to four are in awe.
PRÉCIS ! like every other teenage girl, you fell in love with the superhero. but, he isnt the only one stealing your heart. you had your eye on the schools infamous class clown yuji itadori. but what you didnt know, is that the two were the same person.
GENRE ! smau (and most likely written), 2000s themed, head of the school newspaper!
WARNINGS ! inappropriate jokes/sex jokes, a bit suggestive but not rlly, angst (probably) bc it isn’t a yunppeo fic without angst!!! more to come!!!
STATUS ! UPCOMING!
XTRA ! unfortunately there isnt alot of pink haired men out there so yuji will have multiple faces... and marquise aura as yn faceclaimmm
TAGLIST ! send ask OR comment on this post!
posse 1 this is so brat posse 2 we all love weezer
I'm deep in my late night blues rn and was just thibking about bubble gum bitxh chapter 3.
I think that satoru responding the way he did has a reason. My humble theory is that he's in love with her too but just in DENAIL, perchance. I mean, noting his behaviour throughout the series. earlier in chapter 3, he said "I actually think you're a really cool person" (or something along the lines), by that I would've thought they'd gone past the first impressions they got from eqvhother, him included. So for him to suddenly go on about "You can't lobe someone you look down on" was weird. It's totally valid of him to feel that way though, but in this context, I think that if he was certain on his feelings for her (whether he liked her or didn't like her) I think he would've reacted calmer given his nature. OH AND ALSO, the fact that he only focused on her. He didn't say anything about his feelings. he just kept pressing her.
On another note. It's ALSO weird how reader didn't deny what he said at all. Not once. She was panicking of course but she could've popped a quick "I don't look down on yoi" maybe.
I think there's still a lack of trust between them or perhaps just from satoru.
Sorry idk what I'm rambling about. I'm high on lack of sleep. I hope this makes somewhat sense. Can't wait to be proven completely wrong LOL.
no no, don't worry it all makes sense. those are very interesting theories. come next week, we shall see if you are right heheh
This person has such a big brain, I wanna give it a smooch
Because he really never does talk about his feelings, actually. When you look through the book, his facial expressions are described as neutral or relatively content. I think the only time he really "snaps" before chapter 3 was in the closet. I think he snaps because he's forced to actually discuss his feelings? I might have to read again, but something that stands out to me is that he has to confide in the reader and be vulnerable with her. His face is also described to have, like, a slip? (Like his neutral face slipped for a moment)
Pairing the vulnerability in that scene to the way he expresses himself in the closet, I think it's quite jarring. He's no longer talking about himself and about how he feels and only focuses on how the reader feels. I definitely agree that it has something to do with denial.
(This next bit is just me speaking out of my ass)
He was never in denial about his supposed condition, perhaps why it was easier for him to be vulnerable about it because it's something he's sure about. Something that's factual. But when it comes to emotions, things that are ever changing and evolving, perhaps he finds more difficulty in expressing the non factual? More theoretical?
I think Gojo liking Legos because he can create whatever he'd like is interesting because you can apply it here. Legos are made in a way where you can create whatever you want, meaning there's no set use for a lego. By this, I mean there's no one thing a lego piece is meant to be, so it's theoretical. For a lego to be 'factual', it needs to have one use. (Stay with me now) I think Gojo likes them because it represents control. Gojo is able to control a reality, a reality where Toru and his little wife can be happy if he chooses. He's basically controlling the theoretical, turning it from theory to fact.
Gojo never entered a romantic relationship because of his condition. From a (presumably pre-teen) age, he's been told a fact; he's flaccid. Because of this, he doesn't bother himself with entertaining romance. Romance, or being capable of being involved with someone romantically, is a theory to Gojo.
By being able to control theory and controlling the story, like with Legos, he's able to control what is fact. But emotions aren't 'facts'.
(Now I really need you to stay with me)
Emotions are fluid; they change shape depending on their contents, meaning there is no 'set' thing for them. They're not like facts, the truth; they are chabgeable, they are infinite.
Gojo struggles to understand the 'idea', or shall I say, the 'theory' of liking the reader because he doesn't know how to work with his emotions. From his teenage years till recently, his emotions (his theories) were controlled by what he believed as fact. He can only control what is fact, which, in my opinion, is shown in his interests (for example, astrology, which is composed of many theories, lies in finding what theory is factual. To find the 'truth', not to explore the possibilities.)
He deflects onto reader, putting her under pressure because he thinks he thought he knew what is factual about her feelings. He uses the assumptions that he made about people like her as factual things.
(In their first encounter in the closet, he says something along the lines of "but that's what *you people* think," effectively generalizing her and everyone he deems as the same)
The reason why he does this is because he doesn't know how he feels himself. The 'theory' of liking us, the reader, isn't something he can control. And it's something he's afraid to turn into a fact.
Again, this person's thoughts are legit amazeballs, and it helped me clarify my own thoughts. All the brain smooches to them.
(Also, tiny tidbit, the fact that they are the most vulnerable in a closet; a place that's described as stuffy and cluttered. I think it's interesting because that's how emotions feel. They feel stuffy and overwhelming until they eventually squeeze themselves out of you. Both gojo's and readers' feelings felt so overwhelming that they exploded. Exiting the closet, to me, is like them putting in a mask once again. Especially for gojo, seeing as he only 'broke character' in the closet. But I'm also stupid, so I wouldn't trust anything my little fingers type. )
I'm deep in my late night blues rn and was just thibking about bubble gum bitxh chapter 3.
I think that satoru responding the way he did has a reason. My humble theory is that he's in love with her too but just in DENAIL, perchance. I mean, noting his behaviour throughout the series. earlier in chapter 3, he said "I actually think you're a really cool person" (or something along the lines), by that I would've thought they'd gone past the first impressions they got from eqvhother, him included. So for him to suddenly go on about "You can't lobe someone you look down on" was weird. It's totally valid of him to feel that way though, but in this context, I think that if he was certain on his feelings for her (whether he liked her or didn't like her) I think he would've reacted calmer given his nature. OH AND ALSO, the fact that he only focused on her. He didn't say anything about his feelings. he just kept pressing her.
On another note. It's ALSO weird how reader didn't deny what he said at all. Not once. She was panicking of course but she could've popped a quick "I don't look down on yoi" maybe.
I think there's still a lack of trust between them or perhaps just from satoru.
Sorry idk what I'm rambling about. I'm high on lack of sleep. I hope this makes somewhat sense. Can't wait to be proven completely wrong LOL.
no no, don't worry it all makes sense. those are very interesting theories. come next week, we shall see if you are right heheh
This person has such a big brain, I wanna give it a smooch
Because he really never does talk about his feelings, actually. When you look through the book, his facial expressions are described as neutral or relatively content. I think the only time he really "snaps" before chapter 3 was in the closet. I think he snaps because he's forced to actually discuss his feelings? I might have to read again, but something that stands out to me is that he has to confide in the reader and be vulnerable with her. His face is also described to have, like, a slip? (Like his neutral face slipped for a moment)
Pairing the vulnerability in that scene to the way he expresses himself in the closet, I think it's quite jarring. He's no longer talking about himself and about how he feels and only focuses on how the reader feels. I definitely agree that it has something to do with denial.
(This next bit is just me speaking out of my ass)
He was never in denial about his supposed condition, perhaps why it was easier for him to be vulnerable about it because it's something he's sure about. Something that's factual. But when it comes to emotions, things that are ever changing and evolving, perhaps he finds more difficulty in expressing the non factual? More theoretical?
I think Gojo liking Legos because he can create whatever he'd like is interesting because you can apply it here. Legos are made in a way where you can create whatever you want, meaning there's no set use for a lego. By this, I mean there's no one thing a lego piece is meant to be, so it's theoretical. For a lego to be 'factual', it needs to have one use. (Stay with me now) I think Gojo likes them because it represents control. Gojo is able to control a reality, a reality where Toru and his little wife can be happy if he chooses. He's basically controlling the theoretical, turning it from theory to fact.
Gojo never entered a romantic relationship because of his condition. From a (presumably pre-teen) age, he's been told a fact; he's flaccid. Because of this, he doesn't bother himself with entertaining romance. Romance, or being capable of being involved with someone romantically, is a theory to Gojo.
By being able to control theory and controlling the story, like with Legos, he's able to control what is fact. But emotions aren't 'facts'.
(Now I really need you to stay with me)
Emotions are fluid; they change shape depending on their contents, meaning there is no 'set' thing for them. They're not like facts, the truth; they are chabgeable, they are infinite.
Gojo struggles to understand the 'idea', or shall I say, the 'theory' of liking the reader because he doesn't know how to work with his emotions. From his teenage years till recently, his emotions (his theories) were controlled by what he believed as fact. He can only control what is fact, which, in my opinion, is shown in his interests (for example, astrology, which is composed of many theories, lies in finding what theory is factual. To find the 'truth', not to explore the possibilities.)
He deflects onto reader, putting her under pressure because he thinks he thought he knew what is factual about her feelings. He uses the assumptions that he made about people like her as factual things.
(In their first encounter in the closet, he says something along the lines of "but that's what *you people* think," effectively generalizing her and everyone he deems as the same)
The reason why he does this is because he doesn't know how he feels himself. The 'theory' of liking us, the reader, isn't something he can control. And it's something he's afraid to turn into a fact.
Again, this person's thoughts are legit amazeballs, and it helped me clarify my own thoughts. All the brain smooches to them.
(Also, tiny tidbit, the fact that they are the most vulnerable in a closet; a place that's described as stuffy and cluttered. I think it's interesting because that's how emotions feel. They feel stuffy and overwhelming until they eventually squeeze themselves out of you. Both gojo's and readers' feelings felt so overwhelming that they exploded. Exiting the closet, to me, is like them putting in a mask once again. Especially for gojo, seeing as he only 'broke character' in the closet. But I'm also stupid, so I wouldn't trust anything my little fingers type. )
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
gOD the way Undead Unluck starts off. Like, ha ha, okay, whatever, let’s get the obligatory ecchi scenes out of the way.
But like, then you read and learn more about Andy and it’s like. Oh. Yeah, the manga starts off with a naked dude chasing after an 18 year old girl and trying to fondle her tits. But then you learn about his history and it like oh.
Andy didn’t care.
He like, really, didn’t care about anything other than himself in the beginning.
Or rather, more accurately, he cared MORE about himself than what some random brat would want.
He has spent hundreds of years all alone, always watching his friends and their family live their lives, have kids, achieve dreams, grow old, and die. And he is always left behind, never able to join them.
He’s suicidal. He’s depressed. He does not give a shit. He’s just chasing for feeling SOMETHING by trying to die in different ways, and if he can get that by touching some girl, then heck yeah, he’s gonna do exactly that.
Like, he has standards and calms down about touching her after a while, but in the beginning? He didn’t care, and it sucks because it’s clear that he does care. He cares a lot and when you see his history, you KNOW the dude wasn’t always like this. But he is just so tired of being alive. He doesn’t have anyone. He’s alone, he has no hope for his future. Victor had Juiz for all those billions of years, but Andy had no one, and that’s a big difference between the two. Victor always had Juiz from day one, but Andy didn’t meet Fuuko until like 200 years later, and it’s like.
Yeah, ha ha, okay, whatever, obligatory ecchi scenes out of the way, but also. That is a man who got tired of caring about anything other than himself. That’s a man who lost hope and was in despair.
And now he’s regaining the energy to love and care again and it’s just!!!!
