#I LOVE HIM YOU GUYS

[noctuaism]

When it’s time for his daughter to get her vaccinations it’s Satoru who almost starts crying more than his daughter. Your daughter is notably more composed than your husband who looks at your daughter like she’s about to disappear on spot.

“Do we have to do this?” he asks for what you think is tenth time. “I can protect her. I’ll keep my infinity on and then she won’t have to worry about bacteria or viruses or boys.” He says the last one with a shiver like it’s the worst possible thing on the list.

“Yes she has to get her shots,” you say, not bothering to look up at him. You already know he’s pouting. Instead, you keep your eyes on your daughter, secured to the car seat between you and Satoru. Gently you run your finger over your daughter’s cheek. She gives you a wide, toothless smile that has your heart clenching. It was hard to believe that she was just in your belly just over two months ago. She was growing up so fast. “And no you can’t keep your infinity up forever, you’ll burn your brain out.”

The man continues to mutter anxiously, only worsening your own anxiety. You hated seeing your baby cry no less than he did.

“What if I hollow purple—” he starts again and you send him a withering look, feeling a little bad when he gives you an anxious look. Fatherhood is possibly the only thing that has ever made Gojo Satoru second guess himself. You reach over and gently squeeze his hand, both an apology for the harsh look and for reassurance, and watch as his face softens. He squeezes your hand back before taking his turn at entertaining your little baby.

The rest of ride to the hospital is filled with your baby gurgling joyfully at her father as he makes silly faces at her.

When you finally reaching the hospital, you thank Ichiji and drag Satoru away before he can give the poor man a hard time. Satoru holds the car seat in his hand, the shades on the carrier drawn over to protect your baby from the Sun. You hold the hand that isn't occupied with the carrier, squeezing it for reassurance, as you make your way into the building.

Times seems to fly from there, from the moment you approach the front desk and finish filling out the forms to finally hearing your family name being called.

The nurse gives the both of you a soft, reassuring smile seemingly accustomed to the anxiety of new parents. As she leads you to the back of office she reassures the both of you that this appointment would be quick and easy. She gives a practiced debrief of the vaccines your baby would receive. Satoru takes it upon himself to be a little obnoxious with the questions he asks and she shows no irritation towards him, taking everything in stride.

3 shots. This would not be easy.

You really didn't want to hear your baby cry. You turn your head to your husband who has an unusual, grim look on his face. You try your best to remind yourself that this was for your daughters health and wellbeing. The quicker this was done, the faster the both you could go home and take care of her.

After being seated in the room, the only thing left to do was wait for the doctor. The loud crying of babies from the other room left you feeling uneasy. You watch as Satoru takes her out of the carrier to hold her up in his arms. You soften at the sight. Your two loves.

It reminds you that despite all the fears that Satoru had shared with you about fatherhood, he fell into the role quickly and with little stumble. He was as good at being a Father as he was at anything else. You lay your head on his shoulder, watching your daughter's eyes flutter in the warmth of her father. You wish she'd be this small forever. You think you could fall asleep like this, despite your surrounding. To the feeling of Satoru's lips on your forehead and your daughter tucked safely in his arms.

The little moment is broken by a short knock on the door and doctor's head peaking into the room. You sit up straight preparing yourself. The doctor briefly introduces herself as she makes her way in followed by a nurse.

"I trust that you understand what this entails," she says. "I can go over it again if you need."

"How bad is this going to hurt her?" Your husband asks, his voice taking on a serious he usually doesn't show. You watch as the nurse sets out the three syringes onto the table, each with a translucent cap.

"I will not lie to you, Gojo-san, this will be uncomfortable. The faster we get this done, the easier it will be on her." Her voice is calm. "However, I also cannot say what side effects may occur or may not occur at all." She gets up to wash her hands in the sink before putting on some gloves. "Please place her on the exam table."

"I might have to hollow purple this place."

"What was that, sir?"

"Nothing."

Satoru gives her the fakest smile you've ever seen on his face while gently laying your baby down. He gently smoothes her unruly, white hair and doesn't let go of her hand. You join him at his side, running your hands down her arm, watching as she turns and bends to look at you. Her gummy smile reminds you so much of Satoru, so full of joy and happiness. You really carried her for nine months for her to be a carbon copy of her father.

"Okay, we're gonna count to three and administer one to each thigh," you nod, steeling yourself. "One, Two, Three..."

Your daughter wails and the shots are done just like that. The doctor and the nurse work quickly and efficiently, caping the used needles. Her piercing cries hurt your heart and you take her into your arms rocking her, trying your best to calm her down. Satoru, on the other hand, looks as though he wants to throw hands with the doctor, the glare behind his dark glasses is harsh.

"I know, baby, I know," you cajole, trying to get her to stop crying. Her crying continues for a while and you give your husband a little helpless look. He catches on quickly and gently takes her from your arms, taking his turn at rocking her against him.

"We're never doing this again," he says. Your daughter finally starts to calm a little. Tears continue to stream down her face but she no longer wails in pain. You wipe her face with your hand, smoothing your hand on her cheek. Your throat feels tight.

The rest of the time from the hospital back to your house is a blur. Your daughter sleeps safely in her nursery having been lulled to sleep from all the crying and some milk.

The both of you are sat on the couch in the living room. The baby monitor placed on the coffee table in front of you. Satoru is in your arms, his head buried in your neck. You sat in his lap, gently combing your hands through his hair. You had two babies to take care of.

"I hated that," he says, a little whiny. "Can we never do that again?"

"She's gonna have to get more no matter what we do."

"If I get rid of every vaccine produced ever and the companies making them, we'll never have to do this again." The statement is ridiculous and is enough to make you laugh which has him whining into you neck again.

"I'M SERIOUS DON'T LAUGHT AT ME." Which only serves to make you giggle harder. You place a kiss on his forehead.

"You're a good father you know," you say, directing the conversation in another direction instead of the doom of pharmaceutical companies at the hands of Gojo Satoru. "She's lucky to have you."

"Of course she is, I'm THE Gojo—" you place your hand over his mouth cutting his bragging short. You take your hand away once you're sure he's not gonna say anything silly. And before he has a chance to lick it.

"I'm being serious."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

You think back to the conversation you had before your daughter was born. The one where Satoru had spilled his heart out, confiding his fears of being a bad and absent father. You remember being in a similar position as you are now, seated in his lap and running a hand through his hair. You felt him squeeze your waist in the same way, one that told you that despite pretending he didn't need it, even the strongest needed comfort.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs. "Thank you for everything."

"I love you too, toru."

Your lips lock in a soft, gentle kiss. He was your everything and more. The silence between you both is sweet and comfortable as you bask in each other warmth.

Silence, however, never lasts long in the Gojo household. Especially when it comes to Gojo Satoru.

"So what do you say about practicing for our second?"

[whatohitsonfirewelp]

Thinking about how Darius couldn’t see Ben when he knocked. Thinking about how Ben was on his knees in front of the door. Thinking about how Ben knows how to pick locks.

[apostle-of-locusts]

John Doe Malevolent doodling instead of doing vectors :3 :p

[theosconfessions]

OC Questionnaire

I was tagged by @stargazer-sims @dandylion240, @cawthorntales, @anamoon63 and @tenyrasims

thank you for the tag lovelies! i love this type of stuff . I tag anyone who wants to do this bc i love reading about your babies and im starting to come out of my flu haze so gimme.

~

NAME: Sidney 'Sid' Frederick Branham

NICKNAME: Sid and when he was with Scar it would be 'Lover' [this made her parents want to vomit in their mouths :) ]

GENDER: Cis Male

STAR SIGN: Leo

HEIGHT: 6'4

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: American/White

FAVOURITE FRUIT: Banana

FAVOURITE SEASON: Summer [he loves to sweat]

FAVOURITE FLOWER: Pink Roses

FAVOURITE SCENT: The Beach /Aquariums

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 4 hours. hes a little haunted

DOGS or CATS: Both! Sid wants all of the fur

DREAM TRIP: Australia

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: Two

RANDOM FACT: he watches Scarletts BC pretty religiously despite being told its probably not healthy for him to do so by his friends. And although hes tried to date hes been having a hard time moving on relationship wise. He chooses to spend his free time ghost hunting with Dusty and working on their podcast when hes not playing football.

[duckthevillain]

"I want to see more shadowpeach in season 5", "I want to see more monkey MK in season 5", "I want MK's past"...

AND WHAT IF I SAID I WANT SANDY AND PIGSY LORE, HUH????? WHAT IF I NEED MORE EXPLANATIONS ON THIS, HUH???

WHAT HAPPENED MAN WHAT HAPPENED

WERE THEY AT WAR OR SOMETHING??? ALSO, HOW DID PIGSY WENT FROM WHATEVER MEAN FIGHTER HE WAS TO A CHEF??? (my personal theory is that he met his Tangy🤭🫢)

[ohtedlasso]

Richard Montlaur, my favourite slutty frenchman!!! 🇫🇷🥖👨‍🎨

[hmmm-shesucks]

“Not when Riko was to Kevin what Neil’s father was to him.” And some of y’all still have the audacity to call Kevin a coward?? Crazy.

[elyasdoodles]

[red-might-be-dead]

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price- The Pit And The Pendulum (1961)

[noctuaism]

gojo is many things. the holder of the six eyes and limitless technique. special grade jujutsu sorcerer. the strongest. but within the realm of the apartment he calls his home, he is none of those. In this apartment he is just gojo satoru. he is a husband. he is a father.

if anyone had asked him about children a couple of years ago he would laugh in their face and talk about how it was a good joke. the same reaction applied to marriage and relationships. all till he met you. you who made him want a relationship after the downfall of his best friend. you who treated him infinite kindness, making him crave your attention and love. you who changed his world.

To think all of this started with an interlinking of pinkies to holding hands to little kisses shared under the moon and then rings on each of your fingers, leading all the way to this little moment in your bedroom.

he softly hushes his fussy newborn, as she wakes in the night crying. you had woken up to the baby’s cries in a panic, still new to all this and he calms you telling you he’ll handle it despite your protest. he knows how hard it is for you, both on your healing body and on your mind. he wishes you’d be a little more receptive to his help because he wants to do this for you. want’s to take this on so he can ease the burden on your body. you who had spent nine months in all sort of sickness and pain to bring this little life into the world. you’d argue with him, telling him he had enough on his plate and that he had to teach in the morning tomorrow but he digresses. gojo satoru was a man with many talents and many more responsibilities, and he’d be damned if he didn’t make room for you and the newest addition to your little family.

now he’s here holding his newborn, sleep finally catching up to you unable to continue arguing with him. he rocks her gently in his arms as he wait for the bottle to heat up the way you taught him. he stares down at her soft features, unable to believe his eyes. snowy white hair like his and eyes just as beautiful as yours. a little you and a little him. a perfect mix. he gently picks up the milk bottle up testing it on his hand to check the temperature while holding his baby comfortably against his chest. the movement a little more refined than when he had first done this while you were teaching him. he remembers being a little embarrassed, a little awkward not knowing how to feed his own baby. you had reassured him that he wasn’t the only one that was still learning and he had kissed you because no words would ever truly cover the extent of love he felt for you.

he walks back to finally feed the huffy infant in your shared bedroom. he sits on the bed, watching as she latches onto the bottle immediately drinking away and slowly falling into a state of drowsiness. sometime later, he’ll return her to her nursery to sleep till she wakes again. in this moment, however, he simply cherishes the infant in his arm and you sleeping soundly beside him. a little family of three. all he’s truly ever wanted.

in this little room, he’s not the strongest. he’s not a sorcerer. no. he’s a husband. he’s a father. he’s gojo satoru, a man with a loving family.

[tellodona]

mc that has a panic disorder with Lucifer (can be platonic or romantic) one shot? Just some hurt/comfort and angst 👉🏻👈🏻

i love me some hurt/comfort

also i might be indulgent in this because i used to experience panic attacks everyday like two years ago so yeah that's a heads up

The Shepherd and His Lamb

heads up: gn!mc, romantic or platonic relationship is up for interpretation, spoilers for lesson 16

You have been always some sort of pushover, no matter what. It doesn't matter how or for who, you just couldn't say no. Even if your life depended on it. That measly, little two-letter word barely comes out of your mouth that it's like it isn't in your vocabulary.

Just something about seeking approval fills you with this unexplainable satisfaction. The way someone would be pleased because you always let them borrow your pencil or your power bank, or doing their chores because they were busy, or giving away your answers on an important test you worked so hard to review for days.

Anything, just anything remotely related to someone's approval of you is enough to fill the longing inside your heart. Something that fills that empty hole you wouldn't even acknowledge that exists.

Perhaps it's why you agreed to Levi's request of forcing Mammon into a pact, or how you almost agreed to the pact Satan offered to you before just because he wants to spite Lucifer.

When you let Luke in the House of Lamentation, or when you didn't get angry at Beel for destroying a wall in your room. Choosing to shield them both from Lucifer's wrath because you didn't want them to be hurt. It doesn't matter you got hurt, at least they were okay.

When you let Asmo pamper you like the greatest trophy in the world, or when Diavolo had you in the exchange program in the first place. Like you're some sort of humanified object that someone can easily hold in the palm of their hand.

And maybe when you just let Belphie kill you because he was just upset from the trauma he had millennia ago.

It's something he couldn't control. He was angry at that time, you understand. You understood.

You always understood because that way he'd be able to bond with his family again. That way he didn't have to get stuck in the past where Lilith's death replays in his head over and over again.

Of course, you're in the picture too; the random, defenseless human who served as the bridge to fix the broken bonds between the seven demon brothers.

The human who'd get all smiley because everyone else is happy too.

The human that's somehow the descendant of their fallen sister.

But it just starts to wear you down at some point. Like a pencil that dulls after so much use and after so much sharpens.

Sometimes Mammon's rants get overbearing, sometimes Levi gets too noisy with his games. Asmo's been too pushy lately, Satan's been too angry. Beel's been eating a larger portion of your food, and Belphie's being Belphie, hogging your side to cuddle to because it apparently helps him sleep better.

And then there's Lucifer.

He's not quite distant, but you wouldn't say he's talking to you all the time. He's just... there.

He'd always try to keep everything at bay, you don't know how he gets the motivation to do it, but you'd guess it's because he's the eldest brother.

Then again, where does that put you?

You're a nobody to them. Sure, you're Lilith's descendant by a stretch, but other than that? You're human, your lifetime is just a blink of an eye to them.

You are but a speck of dust in their lives that'll be whisked away in the wind.

Your efforts to put the broken pieces of the family picture frame together? They're acknowledged, but not enough to be hailed as a legacy.

And then you're there on the floor of your room, back leaning on your bed, crying like a tall child whose mother scolded and left alone in the dark.

Your knees to your chest, you bury your face in them. As if to hide from the world. You curl yourself into a ball, something you often find yourself always doing.

You feel sick to your stomach, you feel weird. You feel horrible, you feel everything all at once.

Your hands grasp your hair tightly, pulling them hard, just to calm yourself down. Anything to ground yourself, you'd attempt to do it.

Your breathing is uneven, you choke on a sob too. Hot, salty tears pour down your cheeks that you don't even bother to wipe. Your lungs are restricted, but it wasn't like you're in a position to realize that.

Your legs ache the more tighter the ball you pull yourself in, you feel your feet get cold and shake against the floor. Your body feels numb, you don't feel anything else now, only the tightening of your chest and the hands you have on your head.

One minute, you feel like the world is so small, and the next it feels so big. Like it keeps going back and forth and it's so overwhelming. You're getting dizzy, your head hurts. Like someone banged a hammer on it.

Your nails dig into your scalp, and you swear you feel a tinge of liquid forming beneath your fingers when your hands are gently pried away from your head.

You flinch at the sudden touch, and you cry harder, you try to pull your hands away but the hands holding them are firm, yet they're surprisingly gentle.

The hands gently run smooth circles around the back of yours, massaging them. Running their fingers along the arches of the bones. Trying to make you feel something else rather than numbness and discomfort, and it's working, even for just a tiny bit.

A tiny bit and yet it's still something you could take note of. Something you can focus on.

In turn, your hands tighten their hold onto those instead, finding another thing to use to ground yourself. The hands continue to massage yours, before the left hand puts down your right hand.

It makes its way to your cheek, gently coaxing you to look up.

You continue to cry, squeezing their hand, and then then they wipe away your tears with their thumb. You choke on a sob, and the mysterious person shushes you quietly.

You open your eyes, and you're met with eyes as black as obsidian and as red as fire.

Lucifer.

He sits in front of you, cross-legged, continuing to wipe away your tears even if you finally noticed he's there. He's there, sitting on the floor with you, patient and quiet, and he's, most importantly, comforting you.

It only makes your hold on his hand tighten.

You're embarrassed. He isn't supposed to see this side of you, what is he going to think? You're supposed to be the responsible human he picked out for the program, not some crying, little-

And then he opens his mouth.

"Follow my breathing, won't you?" Lucifer's voice is calm, but there's a hint of tiredness from it. He inhales, "Inhale for me, hold it in for five, four, three, two, one..." You're coherent enough to follow him, "And exhale..." You did so, finding no reason to distrust him on this one.

He isn't wearing any gloves, which is probably why you didn't notice it wasn't him earlier.

His expression doesn't show what he's feeling. Is he mad? Is he annoyed? He shouldn't have, he shouldn't have to be here. Stuck with you, stuck trying to calm you down because you're just upset over not getting enough approval.

All you ever wanted is to feel loved without ever begging for it.

So you didn't, you kept quiet. You never voiced out your worries, your hurt. If it means people will like you enough to keep you around, then you'll let it be.

But tonight is just the night where the tape around your broken soul loosens like the heartstrings that's been pulled mercilessly inside your heart.

Lucifer delicately pulls down your knees from your chest, and they're getting too numb to the point they just plop down on his sides.

He lets go of your hand, and uses both his hands to wipe away your tears. "Why must you cry in such a way?" He whispers softly, a stark contrast to the vision you have of him in your head, "Why must you keep it all to yourself? Hide it from everyone... hide it from me?"

You couldn't bring yourself to reply.

He pulls you to his chest, and you instantly wrap your arms around him, gripping at the shirt on his back. Hiding away your face on his chest, unable to bring yourself to see the disappointment on his face.

His hand rubs circles around your own back, running a hand through your hair.

Disappointment is the last thing you should see on his face.

You did so well, everyday, and he always saw it.

He wanted you to see it too.

Lucifer could sit there on the floor of your room for hours if need be, if it means you'll be in his arms, trusting him to hold you with gentleness. Listening to your breathing to calm down until it turns into the tiniest of sniffles against his shirt.

And maybe, perhaps it's the Shepherd's turn to care for his lamb.

[lemonlikeslimes]

DREW DUSTER FOR THE FIRST TIME AND I THINK IM GENUINELY OBSESSED ???

[wormdebut]

Guerrila Artist Steve has a death hawk and I will be accepting no critism at this time.

[toyboy-molloy]

absolutely obsessed with stede referring to the most unintentionally devastating thing he’s done to another person as being ‘on a break’

[sophism]

Guys I think he may be my husband