Sukuna Is The Type Of Husband Who NEEDS To Hold You When He Sleeps.

“oh but _____ isn’t real”

to YOU, that maybe. i, however, am delusional.

clan rival! satoru who was raised to see everyone as nothing more than an obstacle, their name was as old as the history books itself, a reminder that no one could ever stand on the same side as him.

clan rival! satoru who looks at you like you're beneath him, like your very existence is a nuisance, a Zen'in—nothing more than a name added to the list he was raised to crush beneath his heel.

clan rival! satoru who never misses a chance to belittle you, his voice dripping with mockery whenever he calls you by your last name, making sure you never forget that to him, you are nothing more than another enemy.

clan rival! satoru who has been competing with you the moment you started training your jujutsu techniques, from who could expel a curse faster to who could land the first punch. Because losing to you was never an option.

clan rival! satoru who’s always been one step ahead of you, smirking across the school grounds training hall, taunting you with his insufferable arrogance, making you want to carve that stupid grin right off his face.

clan rival! satoru who doesn’t hesitate to fight you, but something about it feels less like war and more like a dance—one that neither of you can bring yourselves to end.

clan rival! satoru who tenses when you lean in after defeating him, your voice taunting him as your fingers gripped his chin just hard enough to bruise as you whispered in his ear, “Aw, you said you were the strongest? That’s cute.” He scoffs, but his ears burn red.

clan rival! satoru who would rather die than admit he respects you, so instead, his words were sharp as a blade, cutting you down at every opportunity, watching to see if he can finally make you break.

clan rival! satoru who should want nothing more than to see you fall—instead, he finds himself watching you too closely, focusing the way you move, memorizing your little mannerisms, the way you glare at him like he’s one of the curses you’d like to exorcise.

clan rival! satoru who hates you. Not because his elders taught him to, but because you never back down. Hates the way you make his blood rush hotter than it should. Hates that no matter how many times he tries to put you in your place—he can never get you out of his head.

clan rival! satoru who grew up alongside you, from kids to powerful sorcerers, yet somehow it never stopped being you versus him. But each mission when the stakes got higher and every battle was bloodier than the last, he starts to wonder—does he really hate you, or has he been afraid of losing you all along?

Woman to woman, I tell you this because I care about you:

• Get your degree, get your bag and be your own man. Be independent.

• Don't get married or move in with someone until your brain is fully developed (age 25)

• Be obsessed with improving yourself every single day. You can create your own dream life.

• Don't get pregnant unless you're emotionally, physically and financially ready.

• Be surrounded by people that make you wiser, happier and prettier.

• You are still young in your 20's, 30's, 40's and more.

• A relationship is partnership: Make sure he helps you too

• Always take care of your appearance

Just gonna..drop these here for some inspo…

(User is @centaaurea on TikTok btw 🫣)

He- he's just so.....big 🤤 And that tongue....so...big 🤤

I close my eyes, hoping that I don't come off contentious

I'm yelling, "Father, did I finally get it right? Everything I did was selfless. I spoke freely when the people needed me, I helped them. I didn't gloat, even told 'em, 'No', when the vultures came. Took control of my fleshly body when the money changed."

Son, you do well, but your heart is closed. I can tell residue that linger from your past creates itself. "Father, I'm not perfect, I got urges, but I hold 'em down." But your pride has to die. "Okay, Father, Show me how."

Tell me every deed that you done and what you do it for. "I kept one hundred institutions paid," Okay, tell me more. "I put one hundred hoods on one stage," Okay, tell me more. "I'm tryna push peace in L.A." But you love war. "No, I don't," Oh, yes, you do "Okay, then tell me the truth."

Every individual is only a version of you, How can they forgive when there's no forgiveness in your heart? "I could tell you where I'm going"

I could tell you who you are. You fell out of Heaven 'cause you was anxious- Didn't like authority, only searched to be heinous. Isaiah 14 was the only thing that was prevalent.

-Kendrick Lamar ; reincarnated

julien macdonald fw06

the nurse doesn't even get a full sentence out before you hear it—the loud, unmistakable, drawn out moan from behind the curtain.

"uuuuuuughghhghhhhhh."

you blink.

"that yours?" she asks, arching an eyebrow, holding back a smile.

you sigh. "unfortunately, yes."

she laughs softly and pulls the curtain back.

and there he is.

gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, your very dramatic boyfriend, currently conked out in the reclining recovery chair like a ragdoll someone left in the sun for too long. his blindfold is gone (carefully folded on the side table, somehow), his mouth is half open, one of his arms is hanging off the chair like he's mid-shakespearean death scene and one leg is swinging mindlessly like he's in the middle of an interpretive dance.

"ughhhhhhhhhh," he groans again, eyes fluttering, unfocused. "where am i. is this the void? the infinite void? am i in the purgatory between dimensions?"

"you had a wisdom tooth removed," you say, walking up to him with your arms crossed.

satoru's head rolls toward the sound of your voice. it takes him a solid five seconds to gain his bearings and settle his gaze on you.

and then—his whole body jerks.

"oh my god," he gasps, pointing a floppy, trembling finger at you. "you're the taco bell goddess."

you blink again, taken aback. the anesthesia is really doing a number on him. it's entertaining. "i'm sorry, what now?"

"i knew you were real," he whispers reverently, nodding to himself. "you came to me in a dream once. you had like, this glowing chalupa aura and you whispered 'live mas' into my soul."

you stare. "what—what the hell are you talking about?"

"don't play coy, my divine temptress of the drive-thru," he says, hand clutching his chest like he's about to write an epic soliloquy in your name. "you bring hot sauce and justice to this cruel, flavorless world."

"okay," you say slowly, looking around for the nurse, "how much anesthesia did they give you?"

"enough to see the truth," he says dramatically.

you laugh so hard you have to grab the side of his chair for support.

satoru squints at you. "wait—wait, no. are you—are you even the taco bell goddess? or are you some kind of fraud, preying on innocent taco followers?"

"i'm your girlfriend," you reply, still wheezing. "you live with me."

his sky blue eyes go comically wide. "you mean i bagged the taco bell goddess and i live with her?"

you pinch the bridge of your nose to calm yourself. "you need water and maybe an exorcism."

he doesn't hear you. of course he doesn't. he's busy throwing up both hands like he's just won an oscar.

"somebody better put me in a commercial," he says proudly. "'cause i'm livin' mas, baby."

you're practically crying with laughter now, and you don't seem to be stopping soon.

"you're a disaster," you choke out.

he grabs your hand and holds it reverently. "disaster, or super cool legend?"

you lean in and kiss his forehead, lips twitching. "definitely a disaster."

satoru beams. "you kissed me! i'm telling everyone. you kissed me first. that's legally binding."

"we've been dating for two years."

"two years?!" his jaw drops. "that's like—" he counts on his fingers "—more than ten kisses!"

you have to bite your lip before you start cracking up again. then, his eyes impossibly wide, he pats around on his lap like he's looking for something. "where's my phone. i gotta tweet this."

"you're not tweeting while high."

"but the world needs to know i'm in love with a celestial being."

"absolutely not."

"okay, but hear me out," he says, slumping deeper into the chair with a dopey grin. "what if we got married. right now. here. in the dentist's office. we've got witnesses. we've got—" he frowns at the table next to him "—fluoride."

you're really trying your best to not lose it. "you want to get married surrounded by cotton swabs and expired magazines?"

he reaches for your face with both hands like he's about to cradle something precious. except one hand flops uselessly against your cheek.

"you're all i need," he slurs.

you smile, warmth creeping up your neck. "oh my god."

"wait, wait. do i have a ring?" he pats his pockets in slow motion. "we can use a paperclip. i'll macgyver it."

"i'm confiscating your paperclips."

he groans. "you never let me have any fun."

you take his hand, kiss the knuckles. "oh, toru. you're a full-time menace, so i have to be the responsible one."

his eyes flutter, a soft, sleepy smile on his lips now. "but you love me."

you sigh, brushing his hair back gently. "i do. against my better judgement."

he grins. "ha. got 'em."

you let your forehead rest against his.

the strongest sorcerer alive. in love. loopy. wearing a bib that says 'tooth be told' with a cartoon molar giving a thumbs-up.

and somehow, impossibly, still the love of your life.

you whisper, "when you're coherent again, i'm going to tell you everything you said. never letting you live this down."

his eyes crack open. "noooo."

"yes."

"i'll sue."

"i dare you."

and he giggles. giggles. like a chaotic little gremlin in your arms.

you hold him close, his fingers twined in yours, as the strongest sorcerer in the world melts into a puddle of affectionate nonsense on anesthetic. and you think, grinning—

god, i love this ridiculous man.

Nanami: Initiate Phase 2.

Yuji: I forgot what Phase 2 is, but I'll assume we just run in like we discussed.

Nanami: Affirmative.

Yuji: I'll assume that means "yes".

Nanami: Roger.

Yuji: My name's Itadori.

i love london

satoru finds him curled up on the couch.

it’s late—later than he meant for it to be. the mission dragged on for longer than expected, and by the time he slipped through the door, the clock on the microwave was blinking an accusing 12:47 a.m.

you’re already asleep, probably having given up hours ago and trusted that he’d come back to you in one piece. but megumi…

megumi is in the living room, half-covered with the blanket you keep folded over the back of the couch. his head is tipped to the side in that awkward, cricked-neck position kids always end up in when they fall asleep somewhere they didn’t mean to.

there’s a book on his lap, one of those thick ones satoru keeps pretending to understand when megumi talks to you and him about it. his thumb is still tucked inside it, like he meant to keep reading, and just didn’t make it.

on the coffee table is a note.

it’s written in megumi’s handwriting, stiff and slanting and way too neat.

we kept dinner in the fridge. i saved you the last roll.

underneath it, scrawled smaller: you said you’d be back before midnight. i waited.

satoru stands there for a moment, and stares at it. then he slowly walks over, crouching beside the couch and brushing a hand over megumi’s hair. it’s longer now. softer than it used to be when he was smaller.

the little boy doesn’t wake. he just sighs quietly and shifts, like he can feel satoru’s hand even in his sleep. 

“hey,” satoru murmurs, barely more than a whisper. “sorry, kid. i tried.”

no answer, of course.

so satoru leans forward and presses a kiss to megumi’s temple, then another to the top of his head. it’s the kind of affection that used to feel foreign but now fits him like second nature. he tucks the blanket around him better, careful not to wake him.

he’ll carry him to bed in a minute. for now, he lets himself sit beside megumi on the floor, back against the couch, eyes closed and heart warm.

⇢ a/n: no one look at me i’m in my dadjo feels. expect more domestic family fluff from me.