pasta

my alpha’s blog heh

interests / i like …

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→ . jujutsu kaisen, ace attorney, kpop,

jjba, my ocs , dw , and more !

bold are my main interests , not that i don’t

like the non-italicized ones, but i am getting

into other media — suggestions are

most definitely appreciated !

why am i here?

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i just wanted to write ngl,

no reason other than that ,

i also wanna see if my writing

skills r still decent heh

what i will write:

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. fluff / comfort

. angst

. SMALL bits of suggestiveness

( nothing will be too explicitly described )

. fem / female reader x female

character

. masc / male reader x male

character

. transgender reader x character

. gender neutral reader

any requests ?

send me an ask or dm me !

what i won’t write:

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. gore / mentions /

descriptions of it

( exceptions — mentions of blood

loss, injuries, periods )

. heavy smut

. m—rder of characters

. inc—st, step x step, the usual

odd things .

. kinks.

. character death ( not reader )

faq ( freq. asked questions )

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pasta, are ur requests open ? — it’ll be in

my bio , or i’ll make a post when they’re open ^^

can i become an anon? — sure ! you can

either, simply send me an ask with the emojis

of your liking , or dm me !

any socials ? — i have instagram , discord ,

and roblox if u wanna play w/ me heh

regarding reqs — on average, it takes me 2-4 (or more) days to write, depending on how many characters included & my motivation. your patience is greatly appreciated!!

. Residing in a small but affordable apartment was one thing, with the limited space given to you and having to adjust to it. But living there with someone else in such a cramped space, nonetheless with Satoru Gojo?

Some things drastically changed, and some were…much less noticeable.

It started off as a little tweak in your everyday life. He stayed the first few days for whatever reason (which he refuses to tell you why, to this day). Food was removed from the fridge more often, your favorite chips that were stashed away being suddenly “misplaced”. According to Satoru. Despite them being in a specific spot in your room.

And, while going to the laundromat’s, even your clothes got swapped. You knew something was going to happen. It was the first week, things were sailing a bit too smoothly. You kept saying things along the lines of, “if you weren’t here, this wouldn’t have happened”. To which Satoru just snickers and shrugs it off.

But, he’s practically become part of your lifestyle now. And as much as you dislike to admit it, it’d feel odd if he wasn’t there.

You’ve thought about it a lot. Some sort of anime playing on the TV screen—Digimon, you think, a series he’s yapped about more times than you can count. And a familiar head of white hair taking up all the space on the couch with his long limbs, greeting you as you return from your hard workplace.

If he was (rarely) napping when you got home from work, it was silent throughout the place. Nothing blasting on half-full volume, the blanket on the back of the lounge still neatly folded in place from your organization earlier in the morning.

And, for the few times it does happen, you suddenly don’t find yourself craving stillness in your apartment.

⋯

Yesterday was rough on you, entering the house dragging your feet and with frizzy hair. Your limbs ached to feel the cushiony softness spread beneath you, imagining the comforting feeling of your pillow against your cheek.

Satoru even watched as you ignored his daily but obnoxious “welcome back!”, raising a snowy white brow at your behavior, but not thinking much of it. Using his context clues when you grudgingly trekked inside of your shared space, he could tell you weren’t having the best of days.

Of course, he had to make it his mission to cheer you up. He can’t have you grumpy in the morning, that’s like a death trap.

It was all falling into plan too, when you rise from your slumber.

Before you know it, the birds are chirping. It’s still dark outside, but to assure yourself that you won’t be late, you get up earlier. Groggily, you force yourself out of bed, stepping past the figure lying on the floor.

As soon as Satoru hears the door close and the footsteps fade, he peeks a bright eye out from beneath the covers.

“My time to shine.” Satoru thinks.

He rustled against the warmth of the blanket, also having to use energy to free himself—willingly. At least he could go back to sleep after.

Standing up, he exits your room and into the bathroom, where of course, you’re inside of, wetting your toothbrush with paste already on the bristles. Acting offended, he quickly grabbed his own.

“Good morning,” he speaks to you, glancing over to your tired figure. No response.

“We can at least spit together,” he suggested, voice muffled next to you. When the shuffling noise to an abrupt stop, he looks over to see you giving him a nasty side eye.

“Hell no. That’s icky.” You reply. Maybe you’ll just brush for forever, so you don’t have to witness that. Or catch him off guard with it.

“Please? You only live once.” He countered.

“I’d rather die.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Fine, then.”

Exactly three beats of silence, before Satoru is back at it, bothering you again. He bumps his hip into yours, continuing to scrub at his own teeth as he does so.

“Stop,” you mumble, looking him up and down as you lean over the sink.

Of course, he doesn’t. Trying to ignore him is like attempting to silence fireworks, despite your efforts to do so.

“What do you want?” you finally relent, finishing up and wiping your mouth with a paper towel. And instead of saying something, he just gives you that stupin grin of his in response.

“You’re irritating.” Slipping past him, you make your way down the hall and into the kitchen. Quickly, he also tidied himself up in the bathroom before his footsteps pad down behind yours.

And that stretched out, unnecessary quietness seems to go on forever, until he made a comment. Which turned into snarky remarks, and as you’re preparing breakfast for yourself, becomes a light bantering between the both of you for God knows what this time.

He’s always doing something dumb in the mornings. And it pisses you off, most of the time—he really has nothing better to do with his life.

Though, somehow, there’s something in the back of your mind, creating a comfortable and steady pooling in the puddle that is your thoughts.

And it tells you that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

jujutsu kaisen.

𓂃 multiple;

these four are jealous of your behavior to another man. but of course, they don’t express this

you ask them to say hawk tuah. some backfire.

𓂃 satoru gojo;

RYOMEN SUKUNA

. Jealousy was a two-headed snake. Arrogant, and much too full of itself.

That’s what the King of Curses found himself thinking as he catches you, his partner, snickering as the guy walking alongside you makes yet another joke. And every time, you laugh. That statement from before seems to take an opposite turns while he watches your kind banter between the other.

He shouldn’t be, really. Some low-life feeling, and yet, here he is. Feeling nearly overcome by it.

Sukuna accompanied you for whatever reason. And at first, your mind wandered off to different reasons—perhaps he thinks you’d be unfaithful. (Who would dare to go against the King of Curses?)

It pisses him off, really. The mere thought of another man catching the even slightest upturn of your lips is (more than) enough for a beheading, in his eyes.

And it’s not that you’re unaware of what he’s pondering about. When you mentioned wanting to go out with a friend, who is another man, Sukuna had been stomping around with a seemingly irritated look ever since then. Well, he always looks like that. But there’s something adding to it this time.

"When are we leaving? I have better matters to attend." The curse questioned, one set of arms folded over his chiseled torso. Of course, what better would it be having an over six-foot-tall curse with intimidating tattoos pacing next to you?

You sigh and hold up a hand to your friend, signaling for him to wait a moment. "I told you that you didn’t have to come with me—"

"I wanted to! I’m just asking." He’s quick to reply for clarification, though you can tell he’s still mad because he scoffs when he finishes talking.

You start talking to your friend after a beat of silence, lowering your voice to apologize before picking up where you and him left off.

Sukuna, meanwhile, is still fuming about the fact that you’re still speaking to him. The tiny eye below his main one still narrows at you, and you miss this detail. So, he’s going to take matters into his own hands (without ending someone’s life, which was your request).

Without a word, he hoists you over his shoulder, turning around and walking off. You stare at him in protest, before craning your head to look behind you. Your friend looks even more perplexed than earlier, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

However, you don’t bother fighting back. You know it’d be worthless, because he’s not letting go any time soon. And so does Sukuna, because he’s shrugging.

He knows he’s won.

And, plus. He’ll make sure you’ll make up for that simple interaction when the two of you are back home.

SATORU GOJO

. Sky-colored eyes watch as your arm hooks around your companion’s shoulder, the both of your cackles filling the night air. Your friend is drunk, but luckily, you’re a little more sane than him to keep aware of your surroundings. And Satoru, who had come because you may need a ride home.

He’s considering giving you an early ride right now, despite the fact you said you won’t be leaving the party until three or so hours later—but you two aren’t even in the building anymore. Just wandering on the sidewalk mindlessly with a guy he doesn’t know.

Fine. Be that way. He scoffs.

It’s more playful, at first. But when you give him one reply that’s straightforward and equally annoyed? Oh, he’s pouting for the next ten minutes, but you don’t notice.

Too many inside jokes. Too many giggles, too much everything for his liking. And in that moment, unfortunately, Satoru realizes there’s no one to bother anymore. To talk to, so now he’s bored. Displeased, because you’re conversing with someone else that isn’t him.

Is it petty? Yes. Does he care? Absolutely not!

"I mean—who even is this guy?" He finds himself latching onto the thought, biting the inside of his cheek at the prospect. The more he thinks about it, the more he’s piqued.

A little while goes by of him hearing uneven footsteps and taps against the pavement, and he’s had enough.

"Hey, we should go get ice cream," Satoru suddenly suggested, not looking over in your direction.

"It’s the middle of the night—" "I’m sure there’s some place open! Come on. Plus, you don’t seem to care anyway!" he urges, nearly sounding like a little kid with the way he’s begging you to come with him.

"I’ll even buy your favorite flavor."

Your half-impaired self forgets about your friend for a moment at the mention of ice cream. Satoru makes eye contact with you, and before the silence can start, you’re quick to break it. "Okay!"

You practically skip off with Satoru, more than ready to stuff your mouth full with the sweet treat. It might be considered irresponsible, since you’d left your drunken friend alone on the sidewalk, but don’t worry. Satoru’s got that covered.

Hopefully.

KENTO NANAMI

. Nanami is at home cooking. It’s for no particular reason. He’s hungry.

You would be too. Well, if you were there.

You’d gone out for a few drinks with a friend. He doesn’t mind that, of course—he knows you’re faithful. You’re not someone who’d do that, he thinks.

Your presence, however, would be much more appreciated than the sudden silence that’s filling his usually calm house. It’s unusual. Because you aren’t there to fill it.

He doesn’t want to admit it.

He misses you.

A cold cup of coffee from earlier in the morning sits on the island counter. Untouched after two sips, because you’d distracted him.

You were there earlier simply because you wanted to bother him. You felt like he could use some company. And from the way he’s grabbing his phone every two minutes to see if you’ve messaged him—you haven’t since you left—it seems it was very much needed.

He eventually ends up texting you first. Something he rarely does, excluding if it’s an occasion, or requires his business.

Thirty minutes. Again, there’s still no response.

He’s slowly getting ticked off. Nanami knows this, but—not in the way one would think. Like…a clock. Time clicks every few seconds with the turn of the handles.

He runs a hand down his face. How bored does he have to be?

He finds himself feeling something that is unexpected for the sorcerer—impatience. It’s even strange to him, an odd feeling that he pushes down. He reads a book to pass the time.

Nanami hears the blaring of muffled music outside, and he’s aware you’re back. He has no idea why you’ve decided to return to his home instead of yours, but you aren’t exactly unwelcome.

He opens the door. And there you are, a little wasted, and…accompanied by someone else. Someone you know, apparently, since you give him a little thank you. Him.

Nanami’s brow quirked, staring at the other man. "Much appreciation for bringing her home." And he starts to close the door. The guy has the audacity to hold it open.

"You her boyfriend?"

"No."

He hums, staring Nanami up and down before waving him off. "I see."

The scent of smoke fills Nanami’s nose as the man moves, making his expression tighten for a moment. For a moment, he feels something akin to…protectiveness, seeing the man. How could anyone like that associate with you?

He watches as the other turns around, heading back into the car. Which is still, loudly, playing music that was heard down the street.

Nanami sighed, shutting the front door behind him. You try to greet him, speech somewhat slurred. But he hurried you along, unwilling to hear any of your sentences. "Get yourself fixed up."

His demeanor is still straightforward, the usual behavior. Though, he can’t deny the question from before is still lingering over in his head. It’s much to consider. Enough for him to believe that it’s a discussion for tomorrow.

He’s very tired after waiting for you.

CHOSO KAMO

. Initially, when you said you were going out, he was okay. He can wait. You’d promised movies with extra-buttery popcorn exactly when you’re back. His favorite part about any Friday, really—it’s become a tradition.

But with an interruption, it’s set on hold. And it’s a little upsetting. Of course, he doesn’t show this.

"I’ll be right back, Cho!" you shout, before stepping down and closing the front door behind you. When he hears the lock click, along with the loss of the car engine in the driveway, he now acknowledges that he is alone. Like, you are not next to him anymore, alone.

Oh, what will he do?

—

An hour goes by, and Choso recognizes yet another thing. Most of his activities when you’re over (which is almost everyday) include you.

Cleaning the rooms? You’re right there with the dustpan when he’s sweeping. Reheating leftovers? You’re there to clean up the mess. And, last but not least, he can’t watch any shows.

It’s not that he hasn’t tried to do each of those things, because he has. But he can’t sit still.

It’s just not the same.

And he has to force his eyes not to stare at the time because he knows it’s only been thirty minutes in (his time frame) since you’ve left.

At that moment, his phone dings with a new notification. He looks at the name—it’s you! His face practically lights up. You’re back, and now you both can finally watch that new movie rotting on your lists for a few months now!

He opened the message, but…it’s not what he’s hoping it’ll say.

You sent a photo. Still at the party, but you left an extra response at the bottom of the picture, saying you’ll be back in thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes.

That’s still something!

"Yes!" he whispered, his mind already wandering.

"Should I prepare the popcorn now, or twenty minutes later? It’ll be fresher then. Oh, and it’s pretty cold in here. I’ll warm the blankets." Maybe he should’ve texted you that, but he’s already off to getting the living room ready.

And you arrive. Five minutes a little late. But you’re back. And changed into some pajama pants so you can fully immerse into relaxation.

The movie starts. Only twenty minutes in, it’s quite interesting. The sound of quiet crunching and shuffling from the popcorn being moved around fills the room, aside from the dialogue between the actors.

"Y’know, I made a new friend today. He’s—"

"What?" Choso says, looking over to you when you mentioned his gender.

"…He was really sweet. I got his number, he should watch movies with us sometime."

"I’ll think about it. Let’s focus on the movie."

That’s all you get in response. Short and straight to the point, the movie starts back up again. A little difference in behavior, but you don’t mind it.

You bring him up again, and Choso’s a little more perked up this time. "Let’s keep watching the movie." he repeats again, as if on autopilot.

Okay, now you’re confused. Have you done something?

"…Sorry." You mumble, and the half-curse looked down at you.

"For what?"

"You know."

There’s a beat of silence between you two.

"Well, he’s just irrelevant. And I think the movie is much nicer than some stranger you met."

Choso awkwardly pats your back, clearing his throat. He’s gotten a little choked up now, for some reason. He’d rather not talk about a random guy when he’s the only man in the room right now.

"So, let’s enjoy the moment, yeah?"

You grin and nod, eyes immediately widening as the movie jumps right into action.

While your mind shifts on the topic, Choso’s staring at the screen and occasionally back at you.