😔

🧎‍♀️‍➡️

A man who never shies away from awkward silence

Hello! Can I request a fic where Carlos and reader are in the early stages of their relationship, and he finds out that reader has a cat? (Since we all know how he feels about cats)

CLAWS | CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC (she/her/Sarah)

Warnings: None

Author’s note: This was such a cute request! Thank you! I hope you like it. I kind of realised while writing this that I’m more of a dog person, but I loved this and now I want a cat. Sorry, this ended up being a bit on the short side.

Masterlist

Carlos hadn't been on a date in what felt like years. The string of awkward silences and forced conversations had left him jaded. So when his friends, bless their persistent souls, convinced him to meet their friend for a blind date, he went in with the enthusiasm of a slug crossing a salt flat.

The tiny Italian restaurant buzzed with conversation, the air thick with the aroma of garlic and basil. Carlos fidgeted in his chair, replaying every embarrassing first-date anecdote in his head. Then, she walked in, a whirlwind of laughter and sunshine in a yellow sundress.

The conversation started easily, like a worn path they'd both walked before. They discovered a shared love of terrible puns and a mutual disdain for reality TV. Before he knew it,  hours had melted away, the clinking of plates replaced by their easy laughter. As Carlos walked her to her car, a warm, unfamiliar feeling bloomed in his chest.  He was surprised, not just by the connection, but by how quickly he let his guard down.  Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't another bad date after all.

Butterflies danced a frantic jig in Carlos's stomach as he pulled into the parking spot behind her car. Three dates, weeks of stolen glances and playful texts, and there he was, parked outside her apartment building. It wasn't a fancy high-rise, but a well-maintained brick building with overflowing window boxes and fairy lights strung across the balconies. A hint of jasmine, maybe from the blooming climbers by the entrance, tickled his nose. He wasn't sure if “coffee” was the only thing brewing tonight, and the uncertainty sent a thrill through him. He took a deep breath, the air thick with anticipation, and stepped out, ready to see what awaited him behind that unassuming door.

Carlos found her waiting by the building's entrance, a curious smile playing on her lips. Together, they navigated the slightly creaky elevator to the fifth floor, the silence comfortable as their hands brushed, sending a spark through him.

Reaching her door, she fumbled slightly with her keys before unlocking it with a laugh. Inside, the warm glow of fairy lights strung across the ceiling cast a whimsical light on the room. Carlos's eyes adjusted, taking in the cosy space adorned with mismatched furniture and bookshelves overflowing with novels. Yet, an unexpected detail snagged his attention. Nestled by the doorway sat two small, vibrantly coloured food and water bowls, a splash of lavender against the wooden floor.

Carlos froze, momentarily thrown. Weeks of flirting hadn't prepared him for the realisation that dawned on him slowly. He hadn't considered the possibility of her having a pet, and the bowls, clearly meant for something much smaller than a dog, left him confused. His gaze darted around, searching for a furry companion, but the apartment remained curiously devoid of chewed toys or the telltale signs of a playful canine.  A blush crept up his neck as the truth, both hilarious and slightly embarrassing, began to settle in. These weren't dog bowls – they were for a cat.

Reaching up, she retrieved a kettle from a shelf and filled it with water.  With a practised flick of her wrist, she pulled open a cupboard and retrieved a small, foil pouch adorned with a cartoon cat. With a satisfied smile, she ripped the top open, a pungent aroma of tuna wafting out.  Unaware of the revelation dawning on Carlos, she began meticulously scooping the wet food onto a dish by the door – the very one that had thrown him into a moment of confusion. A strangled laugh escaped Carlos's lips. 

“So, you have a cat?” he asked, the question laced with a hint of amusement that both surprised and relieved him. Sarah's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“I do,” she confirmed, “though she's mastered the art of invisibility apparently.”

“What's, uh, she called?” Carlos continued to probe, his gaze scanning the room for any sign of movement.  He was starting to feel a little foolish for his initial confusion over the bowls.

“You're going to laugh,” she chuckled, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

“Please tell me it isn't like Carlita, or something like that,” Carlos retorted, trying to regain some composure. He secretly hoped for a normal, elegant cat name.

“When I rescued her, she was so small, we didn't know what her sex was, so I just named her Bean,” she explained, a warm smile gracing her lips.

“Bean?” Carlos asked, almost cackling as he watched her in amazement. The name did not quite match the image he'd conjured. Just then, almost on cue, a tiny, pitch-black cat emerged from under the couch. It wasn't your average house cat – its sleek form and patterned coat were more reminiscent of a miniature leopard. The little feline brushed against Carlos's leg, startling him with a soft purr. Bean, it seemed, was anything but ordinary.

“There she is,” she commented with a delighted giggle as Bean continued to weave her tiny body around Carlos's ankles, purring like a tiny motor. “And, I think she likes you.”

“Mmmh,” Carlos mumbled, his initial surprise morphing into a hesitant amusement. He glanced down at the cat, who tilted her head up at him with wide, emerald eyes. The little panther-like creature paused mid-rub, seemingly evaluating him in return.

Internally, Carlos was waging a battle. Part of him wanted to melt into a puddle at the feline's apparent affection. Cats, especially aloof ones, were notoriously difficult to impress, and here was Bean, practically begging for his attention. The other, more cautious part, was screaming at him to gently shoo the creature away. He wasn't particularly fond of cats –  childhood memories of getting scratched by his neighbour's tomcat were still vivid. Why hadn't Sarah mentioned she had a cat? Not that it was a dealbreaker, but the whole situation felt...unexpected.

Sarah noticed the almost pained expression flicker across Carlos's face.

“I take it you're more of a dog person, huh?” she wondered, her voice laced with a hint of curiosity. Carlos winced internally. He hated to disappoint her, but honesty seemed to be the best policy.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted, offering a sheepish smile. “Cats… not usually my go-to pet.”

A flicker of something akin to disappointment crossed Sarah's features, but it was quickly masked by a determined smile. Was this going to influence their relationship at all? She really liked Carlos, but if her having a cat deterred him so much, perhaps he wasn't the guy for her.  She excused herself to the restroom, needing a moment to take a deep breath. Surely her choice of pet shouldn't be an issue, but a knot of uncertainty tightened in her stomach.

Her brief absence stretched a little longer than expected, leaving Carlos in a peculiar situation. Bean, the tiny panther in disguise, continued her mission of feline affection. With a soft purr that rumbled in his chest, she hopped onto the couch, her gaze fixed on him. Carlos, still wrestling with his internal conflict, sighed helplessly. This wasn't how he envisioned the evening going. Cats, in his experience, were furry bundles of chaos – all claws, hisses, and disdainful glances. Yet, here was Bean, a picture of feline tranquillity, nuzzling his leg and gazing at him with those emerald eyes that seemed to hold a surprising depth.

He hesitantly reached out a hand, prepared for the inevitable withdrawal or worse, a swipe. But to his surprise, Bean leaned into his touch, her tiny body vibrating with contentment as he stroked her soft fur. It was surprisingly pleasant, the gentle rasp against his palm a far cry from the sandpapery texture he remembered from childhood encounters. A hesitant smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Maybe, just maybe, cats weren't so bad after all.  This Bean, this miniature panther with a heart of gold, was slowly chipping away at his preconceived notions.

A surprised chuckle escaped her lips as she peeked around the corner and saw Carlos, the self-proclaimed dog person, cradling Bean contentedly on his lap. The tiny panther, usually a whirlwind of energy, was nestled against his chest, a rhythmic purr rumbling through her small body. His hand, the one that had hovered hesitantly just moments ago, now stroked her back with a gentleness that surprised even Sarah.

“You're not so bad, Bean,” he whispered to the cat, his voice barely a murmur. “You think your Mom would mind if I called you Chili Bean?”

The question hung in the air for a beat, and then Bean, as if on cue, let out a contented chirp and nuzzled further into Carlos's embrace. A genuine smile bloomed on his face as he continued to stroke her, the warmth of her tiny body radiating against him. Sarah couldn't help but grin. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a dealbreaker after all. In fact, it seemed like Bean had a new favourite human. Sarah's surprise melted into pure delight as she witnessed the unlikely pair cuddled on the couch.

“Look at you two,” she gushed, a wide smile gracing her features. It was astonishing how quickly Carlos and Bean had become comfortable with each other.

“She's the loveliest cat I've ever met,” Carlos admitted, his voice laced with a newfound affection. He stroked Bean's soft fur with his fingertips, his earlier apprehension replaced by a genuine fondness.

“Told you she liked you,” she teased playfully, already heading towards the kitchen to make coffee.  The tension from earlier had dissipated, replaced by a comfortable ease.

“Does her Mom like me too?” Carlos countered, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  He was starting to enjoy this dynamic.

“Her Mom most certainly does,” she confessed with a sheepish grin as she grabbed mugs, "”especially after seeing you with her like that.”

Carlos chuckled, basking in the warmth of the moment. 

“Good, because I've kind of already, sort of, dubbed her Chili Bean and I want to take her home with me,” he blurted out in a rush, causing her to erupt in laughter.

"Problem is, we're a package deal," she countered, her eyes twinkling as she moved to take a seat beside him on the couch.

“That's fine, you can come too,” Carlos retorted with a playful smile. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, the air humming with unspoken possibilities. They settled back onto the couch, content to watch Bean sleep, a tiny ball of fur nestled between them. The evening, which began with an unspoken misunderstanding, had taken an unexpected turn, blooming into something far more promising.

Love Hangover⸻ Gojo Satoru x reader

synopsis: "Call me back. Call me back. Call me back." — love hangover by Jennie & Dominic Fike

Cw: toxic relationship, emotional cheating, manipulation, just sex and NSFW stuff, choking (took something from the mv and applied it where I think they implied it :3 ), lot of back and forth, use of the word 'bitch' to refer to the reader (not by Gojo), hate sex, oral sex, fem anatomy, no particular use of pronouns for reader, lowkey angst sorryyy, they are just both pretty shitty lol. Mention of alcohol consumption and cigarettes

'Call me back' received. 2.13AM 

You and Gojo Satoru might be great people, your respective friends will agree. But when you're together it's as if all hell breaks loose. They do not understand. Neither do you two. He makes you so unlike yourself, so unrecognizable, it's often difficult for you to fathom the person you become around him. 

He becomes an unbearable prick; controlling and smothering you, simply too much for you to handle. In return you become a shady bitch; criticizing his every gesture. “Roses instead of lilies? Did you confuse me for someone else?” One day you would be joking over the dinner you made him, next day you would be wishing he was dead. Going through his phone, shouting at him and asking if he is speaking to his exes, was a regular occurrence. Then you won’t talk altogether, but just fight constantly—while lying under your covers together, while eating, on the phone, in public— just making things harder for everyone and yourselves. Until one of you goes;

‘I’m over, I'm so over.’

But you two would always end up where you started. One coincidental meeting with Gojo Satoru somewhere, anywhere, could be that you're across the street from each other; sitting in different restaurants, with different people— and that would be enough for both of you. Doesn't matter he has some girl hanging off his arms. Or the fact you are on a second date with some guy, thinking this might be something serious; a single, double, triple back from him, and suddenly the fact that he was still entertaining his date while you could practically feel his gaze burning your skin, won’t matter—not that it did not bother you. In fact, to put it simply, you do not really mind when he plays you. Because you two will always end up back in each other’s arms. 

‘One minute, we're growin' apart, and next, I'm in her apartment.’

And here you go again. Doesn't matter how many times either of you tell yourselves and your friends that ‘I swear I'll never do it again!’ But you always do it again, and again, and again. He always ends up ringing your doorbell, unannounced. Does not matter you did not pick up his calls, does not matter you did not answer his texts— One “Call me back” at 2 AM, then suddenly he is at your door. And you know he will be there. No matter what, you two always end up in front of each other’s doors. You may not answer his texts or calls; but when you open the door for him and beckon him inside, he will always be welcomed with two glasses of wine. For the sake of the pretense of wanting to have a civil conversation over wine like two grown adults, finally resolving this push and pull and drawing a firm boundary— is all a faux excuse. you still have the keys to his place, and he still has the keys to yours. And they are not being returned any time soon.  

In a flash you're on your couch, back arching off from its surface and fingernails digging in and ruining the fabric. Again. The other hand would be a tangled mess in his hair. The bigger mess would be pooled under you and around his mouth. Again. Eating you out like he has never before, or he might never again. But he knows better than that. 

So, you would start all over again. Things would be blissful for a while. Sweet talking, going on dates, reminiscing about everything which was good. Thinking this time you would take it slow. Take your time with just hanging out and getting to know each other all over again, promising to not repeat the past. All over again. Though when you two would go out for dinner, all that talk would bore you to death. It is not that you feel like staying with Satoru because of who he is, in fact the more you think about that the more it makes you want to leave him, but you want nothing more than to keep him around, forever. And Satoru knows that, hates that really. Always thinking “what's up with that?” — but just as the waiter would bring out the check, you would gaze at him all sultry and go, 

"Let's head to mine."

And all Satoru would be able to utter is , "Okay, awesome."

Subsequently, there would be just lots, lots of sex. Spending days in bed; skipping work, calling in sick, flaking on friends and practically going missing. And everyone would already know what to expect, nothing new, just the cycle repeating itself. 

Spending days in each other’s company giggling about, high on sex and the thrill of having each other back. Then the nights would pass with him being  buried, as deep as he possibly can be, inside of you. Just spending nights watching you get naked instead of watching the movie he chose himself— roaming his hands all over every ridge and curve on your body, encoding new details, leaving kisses and marks all over you. Places where everyone will be able to see, but also places only he would be able to access; tucked away safe even from your own eyes.  Letting the muscles inside your pussy hug him snug, fitting like she has never known anyone but him, because even she knows no matter who comes and goes— his shape will stay. 

As soon as he would get his hopes back up again. Just as soon the momentary bliss would be unexpectedly cut short. One day you are holding each other to sleep after indulging in each other’s bodies, the next moment you are shaking his hands off you and he is waking up with cold sweat all over him. Then you would stop reciprocating his kisses, leaving his lips cracking. Giving short and curt replies to questions, getting irritated over small things. Not that this is unprovoked. Unknowingly to Satoru, before he could delete the texts from the girls flooding his phone and block their numbers; you saw it all.

Back to square one. Fights and nights spent away from each other doing reckless stuff to provoke each other. Because why are you kissing his eyelids and calling him your one and only one moment, and then accusing him of ruining your life another day.

Soon enough you’re going to a club and letting people openly hit on you. Ignoring his calls and texts, to a point he has no choice but to pull up your location (do not ask how he got that). Then letting him drag you back to his place, shout out profanities at you, rip off every piece of clothing from your body. Doing nothing about him pushing you face down on the bed, pulling on the necklace— which he gave you—on your throat from behind and practically choking you, as the necklace leaves behind marks on top of the marks he previously left behind with his lips and teeth. As he thrusts himself inside you, mercilessly, not even letting you turn back around, putting all his body weight on yours— very literally smothering as always. One hand keeping a firm grasp on your throat while the other comes down to place slaps on your thighs and ass, from time to time. You would barely phrase something between loud moans and whines, “F- fuck you.” 

“You are. As always” all he would reply with with a singular impactful thrust. 

Next morning he would wake up to  empty, cold, and wet sheets. A singular half burnt cigarette would be lying on his bedside table, from the stash of cigarettes in his dresser, despite the fact he does not smoke. And a bottle of whisky would be gone from his collection, even though he does not enjoy whisky. All that would be left of your immediate presence, are the shredded to nothing flimsy pair of painties, which you wore last night. Not like you ever went out of his apartment with the same panties you entered through his doors with. 

Concurrently you would be drowning in alcohol, shooting glasses of shots after another to cure the hangover from the day before. You were not one to drink, but you were also not one to be irrational. Yet here you are, hungover and functioning on autopilot. If anyone asked what is wrong, you would not have an answer. Though you do know what this is, the need to never get over this hangover, instead perpetuating and fostering it. Because you know better than anyone that no alcohol will relieve the itch in your throat the way the whisky in Satoru’s cabinet burns down your chest, and alleviates you. You can buy similar whisky, the same brand even, or maybe even a wine or rum— but it won’t taste the same, it won’t get you drunk the same. 

‘I swore l'd never do it again.’

And after a month, Satoru would wake up to a singular missed call from you. 

‘you know I'm gonna do it again.’

a/n: dividers by @/dollywons & @/aquazero, header from the mv for the said song. essentially saw @jumpinglillies talking about wanting to read a Satoru fic based on this song, thanks to them for bringing the song to my attention i hope this lives up to your expectations <3

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don't be mad

The masculine connotation of a bow tie and the feminine connotation of a bow on the top of the head implies a nonbinary bow style placed directly over the nose

the world could use more fics like this😭😭💞💞

Miss-tery

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙

Nanami and Itadori get a bite to eat and meet someone Nanamis very close with

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙

Yuji groans as he stretches his sore muscles, that curse really made him work for that defeat. Thankfully he could do it all by himself and impress Nanami in the process. Speaking of which, where was he?

As if on cue Nanami came from behind a wall, putting his phone in his pocket as he walks over to the bright eyed student.

“Nanamin! Is Ijichi here yet?”

Yuji asks as walks over to Nanami, only for him to shake his head.

“Traffics terrible at this time, it’ll be a bit before he’s here.”

Nanami sighs before looking around then looking at Yuji.

“Are you hungry Itadori?”

“Always!”

Yuji beams as Nanami nods and starts walking into the town nearby.

Yuji followed happily, a smile coming on his face. He’d heard from Ino before how Nanami was a giant foodie and well aware of all the best food places no matter where in Japan they were.

He would drool as he heard his senior talk about the places he was taken, from the hole in the walls to the nicest restaurant. If Nanami took you there, you know it’s going to be great.

“Are you in the mood for anything?”

“Mmm maybe some chicken?”

The corners of Nanamis lips tugged up slightly before facing forward again.

“Well then, I know just the place.”

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ

The bell above the door jingled slightly as they entered the restaurant. It was a small building cozily tucked away from the cities loud noises.

The place was dimly lit with hanging lights scattered on the ceiling alongside fake pink flowers. The wall had a simple painting of the mountains with a long branch from a tree reaching over the emptiness that the mountain didn’t touch.

Nanami stepped to the hostess stand and waiting patiently, Yuji following quickly behind him.

“Are you sure it’s open?”

Yuji whispers, looking around at the very cute but very empty restaurant. Nanami nodded as he stared at his watch for a couple of seconds before the doors of the kitchen opened. Out came a pretty lady whose eyes went bright as they landed on and Nanami.

“Well hello stranger!”

You giggles as you walks over to the stand, picking up two menus. Nanami took off his glasses and stared at the you fondly before looking at Yuji.

“Itadori, meet the owner of this lovely restaurant.”

“Oh you’re Itadori! It’s a pleasure, I’ve heard so much about you!”

You give him a bright smile as you introduce yourself before sitting them down at a table. Scanning through the menu, you look at Nanami with a smirk.

“I already know what you want, unless you’re planning on finally changing it?”

Nanami let out a small laugh and shook his head as he handed the menu to her.

“Maybe one day.”

He smiles as you rolls your eyes playfully. Yuji eyes moved between you and Nanami as he tries to figure out what’s going on. He’d never seen Nanami smile and laugh this much in such a short amount of time.

He eyed Nanami suspiciously before looking down at the menu, everything sounded so good! How was he gonna pick?

“I suggest the Yakitori. It’s delicious.”

You suggested, as if you could read the young sorcerers mind. Glancing down at where it’s described the Yakitori. All things considered it sounded great.

“In my opinion everything she cooks is great.”

“Oh stop it you!”

Now Yuji was really confused. Nanami? Throwing around compliments? Making a smile and laugh?! Maybe on the way back Nanami was kidnapped and replaced by a curse cuz this was not the stone faced man he knew.

“You ready?”

You called out, pulling him out of his thoughts. Panicking slightly Yuji scanned through the menu.

“Huh-? Oh yeah! I’ll have the Yakitori and a soda please!”

“Good choices!”

You smile at him before turning over to Nanami.

“I’ll be back soon.”

You smiled before you were off again.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉ ・ʚ˚̣̣̣͙

You had come back with their dishes and served then, planning on going back to the host stand and waiting but Nanami sweet talked you into staying (a skill Yuji never knew he had). So here you were, talking and laughing at the table as him and Nanami ate their food.

“And this guy had the nerve to act like I didn’t seem him put his hair in! Like sir I was right there when you did it?!”

“The audacity of some people.”

Nanami shakes his head as you tell your story animatedly. Yuji watched you two very curiously as you talked. Usually Nanami wouldn’t have much to say when it came to storytelling, a hum here or a nod there, but with you? Yuji didn’t have a doubt in his mind Nanami was hanging onto every word you said.

“Oh but enough about me, how are you two? Enjoying the food?”

You ask, beaming at the two as they nodded. The second the heavenly smell of your food hit Yujis nose he was chowing down like there was no tomorrow.

“It’s delicious ma’am!”

“I’m so happy you think so! And how about you Mr Nanami? How’s the meal you always get?”

You ask with a knowing smirk. Nanami lets out a small huff as he brings his final spoonful of Unagi to his mouth.

“I’m a man of routine.”

“Oh do I know that.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes. A buzz comes from Nanamis phone that pulls him away from the conversation for a moment. Curious, you and Yuji try to look at the message to no avail. Nanami frowns as he looks at the text, standing up as he fixes his tie.

“Itadori, we have to go. Ijichis out waiting for us.”

You and Yuji frown as he leaves the seats, Yuji wished he could stay longer but sighs as he gets up.

“Bye Ma’am! Thanks for the food!”

Yuji waves as him and Nanami leave. Nanami opens the door, staring back at you as Yuji walks off content. You look back at Nanami with a soft smile as you pick up their dishes.

“Don’t be home too late, ok Kento?”

“I won’t, see you soon dear.”

Shutting the door Nanami catches up with Yuji and they walk in comfortable silence for a moment, at least comfortable for Nanami. Yuji would stare at him periodically, lips pressed tightly together as he contemplated on asking Nanami about the woman before forgetting about it.

After the fifth time Nanami was starting to get annoyed. Looking at Yuji through his glasses, he speaks coolly.

“Itadori, if there’s something on your mind you can tell me.”

Yuji stops in his tracks as he’s called out, face going pale and eyes going wide. Yuji sighs before taking a deep breath. Well here goes nothing.

“It’s really nothing I was just…curious.”

“About?”

“Well it’s just you and that restaurant owner seem really close and I was just a little curious about it?”

Yuji asks nervously as he looked at the older man only to see him with an easy smirk as they walked.

“Is that all? Well if you’re really curious she’s my wife.”

“Oooh! That makes sense!”

Yuji exclaims before happily walking. So he wasn’t imagining things! It makes total sense Nanami would treat his wife so-

Wait,

“Nanami you have a wife?!”

When he knew there was nothing better in this world than being a parent  — Jujutsu Kaisean

( cw ) f!reader, fluff, domestic , mentions of surgery, Toji gets bullied 😢

featuring. Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento 

authors note. I found this draft and was like ??? when did I write 💀 but anyways I like 2/4 of it so 💁‍♀️ I could name a million things better than being a parent but shhh 🤫

GOJO SATORU

Gojo had just put her down, and she was already screeching again. He was starting to get annoyed; he had work to get to, and she just wouldn’t settle down. Sighing, he stood back up and made his way to her, peeking over the top of her crib. Almost instantly, she stopped, and a big toothless smile spread across her face. She let out a happy little sound. He leaned over, picked her up, and she snuggled into his chest, smiling and cooing. Satoru melted in a way he didn’t know he could. His baby just missed him and in that moment he knew he'd do anything to keep that smile on her face.

TOJI FUSHIGURO   

Toji never cared about what the general public thought of him. He was who he was, and nobody's opinion was going to change that. However, when a group of teenagers at the restaurant started to loudly talk and point at the scar decorating the side of his face while he was with his son, he couldn't help but feel a surge of anger. When his son glanced up and made a face, a tendril of insecurity took root in Toji's mind. Maybe the scar was a bit ugly—perhaps his son had always hated it but never said anything. Toji turned his attention back to his plate and started to play with his food; he wasn't that hungry anymore. In his peripheral vision, he saw his son stand up and gently touch the scar with his small hand. "I think you look cool, Daddy, like a superhero." his son said before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and returning to his meal.

GETO SUGURU  

Geto was lost in his thoughts when he felt a hand gently caress his stomach. "Daddy? Are you okay?" his daughters asked from the side of the bed. He hadn’t heard them come in. He had just had his appendix removed, and it hurt—a lot. "Yeah," he lied, offering them a small smile. They took this as a sign to crawl up onto the bed. One of them settled next to the bandage on his side, while the other came up to pet his hair and face. "You’re going to get better soon, Daddy. We’ll take care of you," the eldest whispered before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, just like he did every time they were sick.

NANAMI KENTO  

Nanami knows he has the best daughter in the world when she rushes up to him in a panic just before he’s about to leave for work. He looks down at her with a questioning expression. “I just want to tell you to have a good day at work today because I know you came home sad yesterday.” She smiles shyly up at her father before wrapping her small arms around his legs. He quickly kneels down to give her a proper hug. “I love you, Daddy. I wished for you to never have a bad day again before I went to sleep.”

cannibalism. gojo satoru

fluff ‐ parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ non sorcerers au, slice of life, mom!reader, unnamed 2yo son (no eldest nor baby gojo cameo). inspired by that tiktok >⩊<

little sunshines au

"i think it's time."

your husband's tone has you placing your book down on your lap at the concerning amount of seriousness seeping from it. it's unusual to hear him (or see him) this humorless, so your heart sinks a little in panic.

"wha–"

the words die down in your mouth when he pushes your youngest son forward.

"repeat what you said."

your son's blue eyes glance at his dad, doubtful, before switching to you.

"what's mochi?"

satoru lets out a disappointed sigh, rubbing his temples as he seems to need a moment to collect himself. but all you can seem to convey is confusion, your toddler looking back and forth between you and your husband, not understanding what's going on.

"explain to me how a child of mine does not know what mochi is." satoru walks in circles around the living room before stopping abruptly with an accusatory finger pointed at you. "this is–"

"satoru gojo, don't point your finger at me."

"yes. sorry, honey." he immediately drops his arm and pouts. "when he thought his name was mochi, I thought it was hilarious. it was cute! but this?"

ignoring the weird rant from your husband, you pull your son closer and offer the explanation he's waiting for.

"it's a sweet treat." you say softly, his little mouth parting in understanding. "but papa and I call you and your siblings 'mochi' because we think it's cute."

"swee-tree!" he claps enthusiastically, a happy grin on his face.

he knows what a sweet treat is. he makes sure to pout extra extra hard to get his dad to give him an extra cookie for snack time.

craddling your son in your arms, you head to the kitchen and get the mochi from the freezer, leaving a sulking satoru behind.

"this... is mochi."

the powdery ball of rice sits on the palm of your hand like an offering to your toddler, his gaze curious before breaking into a cheeky grin.

"me!"

he leans forward, and you watch his baby teeth sink into the soft exterior, the mochi melting around his parted lips. the taste quickly hits his taste buds, and the reaction is immediate: an expression full of awe that you've never seen before on him—you can even see his pupils dilating.

"woah..." a mere whisper, but it's heavy with the innocence of child-like wonder.

"is it good?"

"yummy!" he bites again, his little face brightening up with each bite. "mochi loves mochi, mama."

your heart grows warm at his silly words, wondering how come you never thought of this before. your eldest tried it years ago, before your toddler was born, so it must've slipped your mind.

fed up with being left behind, satoru joins you in the kitchen and butts in, staring at the box of mochi with stars in his eyes as he reaches for one.

"can I try?" the question is clearly rethoricall since he takes the bite-sized mochi in his mouth without waiting for a reply.

but your little one squeals in horror, his chubby little hands closing around the fabric of your shirt and looking shaken to the core.

"nooooooo!" he's overcome with despair, dramatically letting his small body fall against your chest as if he just got wounded. he turns to look at you pleadingly, his blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "papa eat me! papa eat mochi!"

"bwaby–"

satoru is devastated for the rest of the day, your son giving him a nasty side-eye whenever he gets too close to his liking.

your husband tries to reach out to him, wide-eyed and with a mouthful of mochi, only to have your son recoil away from his open arms.

an amused snort escapes you. "yeah... i don't think that's a good idea."