The table was a mess.

Your planner lay open, sticky notes blooming from the pages like colorful leaves, each one scrawled with reminders: groceries, mission prep, lesson plans, bills. You chewed the end of your pen and flipped through the week ahead, already feeling overwhelmed.

Behind you, you heard the quiet shuffle of socks on hardwood. Then came the telltale sound of Gojo sighing dramatically as he dropped onto the couch beside you, practically draping himself across the cushions like a sleepy cat.

He peered over your shoulder.

“Woah, look at all that. That’s a lot of Very Important Adulting.”

He leaned in closer, sunglasses slipping down his nose so you could just barely see his bright blue eyes over the rim. “Lemme see, what’s Friday looking like?”

Before you could stop him, he picked up a pen—your favorite one, the nice smooth kind—and scribbled something at the bottom of Friday’s column.

You raised a brow and turned the page toward him.

Gojo Date Night 💙

Right in the middle of your careful schedule, in bold, messy handwriting with a blue heart drawn like a stamp of finality.