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⋆.˚ ziggy ; she/her , jjk blog ◞ mostly fluff ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ⸝⸝⸝ i like angst , isfp , ask to be moots !! ⟡ i take requests, yes ; sfw 𐔌 sideblog : @honeynclover — reblogs

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#fishwithsoy #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader

fishwithsoy

⧽ fuck the partyㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

── frat!kuna can and will leave the party for you

f!reader, fluff, established relationship, frat!kuna, drinking, frat party

wc : 564

red cups are thrown everywhere, pingpong balls stray across the room, jagged glass is shunted to the margins, people vomit in all corners, wisps emit from people’s lips, and loud blasting music that your bone, muscle, vein, and organ absorb.

it’s getting smothering.

your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. he’s disappeared since earlier, and you’ve been left alone before everything started getting wild.

you’re not blaming him, though—he’s the president, which means frat priorities.

standing at the side, you hold your own red cup. the rim glistened with saliva and alcohol. you’re enjoying it a little, honestly. though you can’t say you’re relishing it too much—you’re not really in the mood.

hysterics surround you—well, maybe that isn’t quite appropriate to call them, but it’s deemed normal at a frat party.

overwhelmed by your senses, you needed a break; hence, going to a serene place. you walk lumberly—casually impinging on others that are in a drunken state.

unaware of where your feet have dragged you—your hazy vision preventing anything else from coming into focus, leaving only the stairs.

a gravelly voice ensues, “goddamnit, i’ve been searching everywhere for you.” you don't look back.

slurring, you speak—voice all raspy. “kuna… you’re hereeee!” your tone, replete with ecstaticness. you’re seated on the stairs, in the middle of the stairs, particularly. your eyes reflecting off what’s before you—twinkling, lustrous stars.

“tch, what happened to you?” he may sound vexed, albeit his ‘concerned’ look belies him.

you respond sluggishly, trying to stand up. “mm… had a cooooouuuuple of drinks.” he trails behind you.

and as you are about to tumble down the stairs—sukuna manages to grab you by your clothes, and you swear you heard the sound of your clothes ripping. your heart genuinely almost fell out of your ass.

he heaves you toward him, your back pressing against his chest. “fuck, baby. how much did you drink?” sukuna questions, his lips brush against your ears, the deep voice sends a shock throughout your whole body.

“six…? or maaaaaybe seven. six seven!” the empty hall saturates your laughter.

his voice gravely, “you’re going home with me.” he seizes you by your clothing neckline and forges down the stairs. “but the party!” you whine.

“fuck the party, i said you’re going home with me. ‘m not prioritizing the party before you. ya hear me?”

aaaand you’re blacked out.

the moment you rouse, you feel it hurtling to your head—hell, the hangover starts now. your mouth dry, your vision still hazy, and the feeling of the need to vomit in your chest. fuuuuck.

sukuna infiltrates the room, carrying a tray, a smug look drawn on his face. “how’s the hangover, baby?” oh, here we go.

he speaks, “you were pretty damn wasted yesterday. who summoned you?” his annoyingly handsome face has a smirk plastered on it.

as he ensconced the tray on the nightstand beside you, the random strike of nausea hit you again. “i’m never drinking again, kuna.” your lips feel the heat of your palm; standing up, you run toward the bathroom.

he peeks in the bathroom, and once he sees you vomiting, he instantly comes in to hold your hair for you. the sensation of your chest tightening as your throat burns from the acid and alcohol you consumed the night before isn’t pleasant. at. all.

“i made you tea and breakfast. come on, baby.”

likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated! ⋆˙⟡

masterlist taglist

i'm still alive !! barely...

ZIGGY WIGGY WHERE ART THOU!!! i miss u angel!! hope ur well wherever u are <3 mwuah

AVA!!!!! 😭😭😭 i miss u too!!! i’ve been packed and unmotivated lately……. but i’ll be back 💪💪💪

#.ᐟ.ᐟ ziggy answers #─ ziggy's mooties ⋆˙⟡

⧽ toji's a loud snorer

── have fun trying to sleep with husband!toji who sounds like a chainsaw when asleep

f!reader, fluff, established relationship, husband!toji, crack, toji is a snorer

wc : 545

toji’s a loud snorer, there’s no doubt about that.

like… really, really loud, and he’s in denial about it.

you’d show him videos of him snoring your ears off, and he’d consistently brush it off, remarking that ‘he was just tired.’

he’d casually joke about his snoring, “you love me.”

“i loved you more before you became a chainsaw in your sleep.”

you’ve tried everything. you’ve bought those stupid mouth tapes, those impractical nose clips, and those useless anti-snoring pillows, and yet… nothing.

you wouldn’t mind if his snoring wasn’t frenetically loud, but it is.

despite your attempts to convince him to try the anti-snoring devices, he always rejects them—always making a promise that he won’t snore, yet that promise gets forgotten about when he sleeps.

even if he denies using the anti-snoring devices you purchased, you’ll still find a way to put it on him while he’s asleep—yet again, disappointment rushes over you as you hear…

RRRRRRRNNNNNKKKHHHHHHHHHHHH

sleep has become a strategy game for you—finding ways to sleep before his snoring starts.

earplugs don’t work; he penetrates through the earplug, and you can still feel the mattress vibrate due to his noise—yes, it is that bad.

pink noise doesn’t work either; the snores mix in with the audio rain.

covering him with a pillow? definitely not. probably the worst strategy in the book.

he awoke one time panicking when you covered him with a pillow. “the fuc—” he paused, sweat dripping on his nose, “are ya out of yer mind? trying to kill me?” he really has the nerve to call you crazy—actually, you indeed are… who wouldn't go insane surviving this?

well… ever since that, you never put a pillow on him ever again.

and for the first time in forever, toji isn’t home for the night. he’ll be back home probably a few hours later than his usual clock-out; he has to work overtime.

finally, finally! you’re so giddy about going to sleep because you haven’t had a proper sleep in FOREVER—forever meant months, but it definitely felt like forever due to the fact that those sleepless nights took sooooo long for the morning to arrive, wherein you could gain back the sleep that you’ve lost during toji’s sleeping session.

you don’t glance at your phone, watch tv, read books, nothing.

you waste no time in going to bed, feeling as refreshed as ever.

as soon as toji steps in the bedroom, there’s a familiar sound. really. familiar.

rrrrrrnnnnnkkhhhh…

he blinks, maybe once? twice? you don’t know.

rrrrnnnnnnnnnn—khh

you manage to choke while snoring—quite impressive.

your snores may not be as loud as his, but they sure are infuriating as his.

4:12 am

toji is awake.

5:27 am

toji is still awake.

6:49 am

toji has accepted his fate.

the next morning, as you rose, you check on toji who is currently awake. he looks disheveled—hair messy, clothes crumpled, eyes barely open… he’s probably tired from his shift, no?

you, who are seated beside him, seem revivified as ever—your eyes are wide open, even glinting with happiness, and a smile that’s spread across your face. “...morning?” you greet.

he grabs his phone and presses play; there goes the familiar sound.

stealing his usual excuse, “i was just tired.”

fair enough—you were tired.

a/n : i got so lazy these past few days ahahah... forgive me people likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated! ⋆˙⟡ masterlist taglist tags: @beereadzzz @sondershyt

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY ZIGGY I MISS U I LUV U I ADORE U MWWWUAH

HAPPY VALENTINES AVAAAAAA I LOVE U MORE 😋😋😋

hello my darlingest darling angel i am here today in your inbox to confess my undying love for you do u accept my hand in marriage? no pressure…LUV YA AND UR WORKS never stop i squeal and giggle at all ur fluffs

this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever told me, and YES I ACCEPT!!! i love you ava 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 i'm genuinely giggling as i read this sigh

#fishwithsoy #─ ziggy's mooties ⋆˙⟡#.ᐟ.ᐟ ziggy answers

⧽ don't panic, it's organic!

── never rely on dad!jo and yuji when it comes to girl emergencies

f!reader, dad!jo, established relationship, itadori yuji mentioned, crack, satoru is a girl dad, fluff

wc : 648

it’s best to say that your daughter being alone with satoru and yuji isn’t the ideal scenario when she gets her first period.

unfortunately for your daughter, that’s the current matrix she’s in, and unfortunately for you, you’re not there to contend with it.

satoru brought in the trio—yuji, nobara, and megumi—for the meantime while you’re running some errands; satoru reasoned that your daughter may want some company. though nobara and megumi had already left hours prior, leaving only yuji.

the two young ones are seated at the dining table: papers, markers, pens, and pencils are scattered everywhere—on the table and on the floor.

“i’ll get the oil pastels,” yuji nods, focused on what he’s drawing, his tongue sticking out—can you imagine a fifteen-year-old enjoying more of what he’s doing than a twelve-year-old?

“hey kiddos, i—oh. my. god.” satoru tumbles a little, “sweetheart, you’re bleeding!”

“...huh?” she searches all over her body, looking for any signs of bleeding, until she sees the stain that’s been left on the chair she was seated on.

yuji promptly looks up from what he’s doing—upon seeing a stain on your daughter’s pants, panic sets in. immediately. “oh my days, sensei! she’s… she’s dying!’ he shrieks.

everyone in the room became quiet for a few seconds—well, except for yuji, who is now crying. satoru blurts, trying to stay composed. “she’s having her period, yuji.” he paces around the kitchen.

“sweetheart, i’ll call your mom, okay? don’t panic, it’s organic!” his voice cracking, he inches toward your preteen.

meanwhile, you're strolling through the grocery store, unaware that your phone has been ringing nonstop in your bag.

“she’s not answering! what do we do?!” now two men are losing their minds in the same household. surely, having at least nobara or megumi over would make the situation more palatable, right?

“kugisaki isn’t responding too!” yuji’s hands are frantically shaking, inhaling and exhaling very quickly.

as you push the cart, you’re hearing whisper-soft ringing, making you halt in your tracks.

seventeen missed calls from satoru. he’ll never call you that much in the span of five minutes if it’s not a life-and-death situation.

okay, so it is a life-and-death situation—if what he’s saying isn’t exaggerated. “what do you mean our daughter’s dying?! satoru, where are you?!”

“baby, she got her period!” your shoulders drop, your heart starting to beat at a slow pace after satoru’s news caused you to have a small heart attack.

oh, fucking hell! you were genuinely about to skedaddle on the way to wherever they are. “baby, don’t word it like that. ever. again.” you speak, words firm.

your eyebrows furrowed as you crimp the bridge of your nose. “is nobara not there? or at least megumi—he’d probably handle that better than the two of you.” you suspire, demanding, “hand her the phone.”

yuji had already gone home, but before he vanished, he was apologizing continuously. why? you don’t know why.

knocking softly on the door, you inquire, “you okay in there, sweets?”

“mhm.” the soft-like voice echoes outside the bathroom. “ya need any help?” you ask a follow-up question.

“no need, mom.” upon hearing your daughter’s reply, you’re satisfied enough to leave. peering behind you, satoru stood, typing something on his phone. “we need to talk.”

snatching his phone, his face screams petrification. “wait–” “what? are you hiding something?” you take a glance at his phone—he’s on google.

period pain scale

can you donate blood to your daughter after she gets her period?

how to deal with period as a father reddit

“...seriously?”

“she’s a grown up now,” he huffs, throwing himself onto the bed and caching his face into the pillow. “are you gonna cry?” a teasing smile spread across your face, you understand him, though.

satoru’s voice has gone soft, his voice slightly cracking.. “probably—that’s my princess we’re talking about!” he gapes up, gazing at you with teary eyes.

likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated! ⋆˙⟡

masterlist taglist

fishwithsoy

⧽ daddy's not a great hairstylist

── satoru isn't the best when it comes to styling hair

wife!reader, dad!satoru, established relationship, fluff, satoru is a girl dad

wc : 437

your day is going smoothly—too smoothly, to be exact. your daughter and her father are probably out for the count, in light of why the house seems peaceful today.

thud.

instantly, you withdraw whatever you have just said.

… and another thud.

ere the mind can grasp it, you hear your daughter barge out of the room, racked with sobs that traverse your home. “sweetheart, wait!” followed by your husband’s voice—oh great.

“toru, what’s happening?”

…

silence.

you let go of the tv remote that you are holding, letting it recoil on the couch. as you warily make your way up the stairs, cocooned noises leak throughout the second floor.

“it’s okay sweetcakes, we can fix this. don’t tell mommy, okay? you’ll no longer have a daddy if she finds out!” his voice is unclear, albeit you can understand every word he says.

“daddy… i’m ugly now!” she sobs. satoru responds immediately, “no sweetheart, you look exactly like your mommy! where’s the ugliness in that?” his voice soft, assuring

you whip the door open, revealing your little one and her slanted bangs, “...toru! what have you done?!” he really managed to slip in a flattering comment toward you earlier.

“she said she wanted bangs! so i gave her bangs! ’m sorry, baby. i’ll fix it!” pouting, he blabbers—his words were coming out too fast. he's jabbering.

“these are not bangs, toru! it’s lopsided… and it’s so evident,” you brush your precious one's hair, scrutinizing it as she mewls. “what did you do? you didn’t just touch the bangs—her bob is uneven too!” you feel every strand of her hair—some slipping through your fingers—it’s too short to grasp. you breathe out, “sweets, you can cut daddy’s hair." proposing, you kneel down to her level. satoru deadpans, “what?”

with all the possible endings—the best one has been granted. your daughter ends up having an adorable pixie cut, thanks to the nearby salon.

“my hair is so pretty, mommy!” she approaches you, a huge smile radiating from her face. as for your husband… his expression is the opposite of hers. “it's very pretty, like you, sweetcakes!” you affirm, cupping her cheeks and eventually squeezing them.

your attention shifts to satoru, “what? you’re going to complain about your haircut?” you question—he immediately looks over to you, “what? no! i absolutely love it!” panic patent in his voice.

he casts an eye over your now short-haired daughter, “my future hairstylist, c’mere!” squealing, she runs away from him.

the two eventually have a matching haircut—satoru gave up and let her cut his hair for revenge, and just know that it didn’t end well.

a/n: i enjoyed writing this. also, this is my first post ever, hopefully i improve my writing on here !! (can you guys tell that i'm obsessed with papatoru?)

likes, reblogs, and comments are very much appreciated! ⋆˙⟡

masterlist taglist

⧽ sukuna has yoga classes

── try to convince your husband, sukuna, to join the yoga class

f!reader, fluff, established relationship, soft!kuna

wc : 509

you entreat, sighing. “kuna… please?” you had just signed yourself up for yoga class—correction, not just yourself, but your husband too. he’s sitting on the bed, eyes on the phone—for a second, he pulls away from his device to look at you.

he dismisses, “i‘m not available this week, wife,” his voice sonorous, face not showing any expression.

“awe, but i got us matching clothes, look!” you gush, prying out all the clothes from the paper bag—you just returned from the mall after investing in equipment for you and sukuna for the imminent yoga class.

his eyes darted on you as he placed his phone on the nightstand. “i’ll go with you next week, baby. i promise,”

that settles everything.

a question of his slips out, “what time is your yoga class tomorrow, baby?” you suspire, inching to him as you sit on your bed. “around ten in the morning.”

“okay.” he replies in a hush, sluggish tone.

on the phone is sukuna: “take care, wife.” he sounds sapped—well, that’s pretty axiomatic after working for hours, but still.

“mhm, and how are you?” you inquire, eyes still glued to the road. before he replies, you hear a deep, deep sigh from him. “‘m okay, workload is quite hectic.”

there’s a long pause between the two of you. you can’t cogitate on what to say, peculiarly when you’re focused on driving “... oh, by the way, what are you wearing?” he asks.

he never asks what you’re wearing, but you don’t question it anyway.

“the one we were supposed to match in, why?”

he ignores your ‘why,’ and proceeds to ask another question, “okay… mine’s in my closet, right?” he lagged a little.

one of your eyebrows furrow, “yeah…?” you respond, quite skeptical.

“okay. focus on driving now, baby. i love you.”

it’s only been like, what? ten minutes in… but you’re crazily drenched. like drenched, drenched. “keep it up, ladies!” the instructor paeans, clapping.

“and for you here…” her voice falters, approaching you to adjust your position—she pushes your lower back slowly, earning a grunt from you.

“there we go, that’s more like–” and afore she finishes her sentence, the vibe of the room immediately changed. the collective in the room loosened in their position, looking up at the disturbance of the calm.

“hey, sorry, got caught in traffic.” that voice is too familiar for you to ignore, instantly; you look up—and seeing that smirk of his makes your limbs go soft.

the instructor assures, “no worries, just find a spot and settle in.” her voice had gone soft, really soft.

sukuna waves at you, a gym bag hangs loosely on his shoulders, and as you observe him, it strikes you.

he’s wearing the matching shirt you bought for the two of you. and you swear on your life you saw it—he winked at you.

slowly, he strides toward your place and sets a mat. “why the hell are you here?” you whisper, a crack coming through your voice.

“you wanted me here, right? then i’m here.”