#WHICH FEELS CRIMINAL ALMOST

[starheirxero]

SOLAR FLARE LOVERS OMG Y’ALL I ACTUALLY GOT SOME EVEN MORE FASCINATING NEWS ON THEIR MODEL. So I found the sketchfab model for Solar Flare yea? I noticed the creator has a link to their twitter in their sketchfab bio and me, slightly nervous that they may not even be aware of their model being used on the show, decided to poke around to see what I could find.

Most importantly, they’ve reblogged fanart stemming from the show, so I think it’s safe to say they’re aware and okay!!

And less importantly but REALLY DELIGHTFUL: THE SOLAR FLARE MODEL HAS HIS OWN LORE. AND HE HAS KICKASS IMAGES MADE FOR HIM LOOOKKKK!!!!!

(source)

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They also seem to have a connection with the creator’s other OC who I don’t know the name of, but whatever is going on with them fascinates me deeply and I would love 2 more of them LOL

(source 1) (source 2)

And there’s way more of these!!! The creator honestly has some gorgeous models and a TV head robot OC who is the FINEST FUCKER EVER but I don’t wanna make this post too long so if u crave more like I do, I’d suggest taking a look at their account if u can 🙏 This shit is making me go into autism supreme mode I’m so happy (EDIT NVM NO NEED FOR THE TWITTER THEY HAVE A TUMBLR !!!!!)

[khattikeri]

maybe a controversial opinion but while i really love jiang cheng as a character he is deeply self-centered as a person. and seeing people fight tooth and nail claiming he isn't, or is just misunderstood, or that he has genuine valid reasons to be selfish when plenty of other characters make the difficult choice to forego status and opportunities for what they believe is genuinely right to do (read: wei wuxian, wen ning, wen qing, lan wangji, jiang yanli, mianmian, etc.)

it's just odd to me. especially if they're talking about the novels.

mxtx didn't give jiang cheng the name "sandu shengshou" as a quirky coincidence. there's a REASON she named him & his sword after the 3 poisons of Buddhism (specifically ignorance, greed, and hatred). it's crucial to the story that jiang cheng is NOT selfless and that wei wuxian IS.

it's important to accept that wei wuxian is, by their society's standards, not morally gray; he represents several Buddhist ideals in direct contrast of jiang cheng and multiple people attest to wei wuxian's strong moral character, which is a lot of why jiang cheng even feels bitter about him to begin with.

it's crucial, because by the end of the novel jiang cheng realizes the extent of this and begins to let go!

the twin prides thing wasn't jiang cheng wanting them to 100% mirror the twin jades. he does care about wei wuxian, but he wanted wei wuxian to stay his right hand man, in part the way wei changze was for jiang fengmian.

and if there's one thing you can notice about wei changze in the novels, it's that literally nobody talks about him. he is only ever mentioned when his cool mysterious mountain sect wife cangse-sanren is mentioned, or (even more rarely) when they discuss him as a servant to jiang fengmian. regardless of jiang fengmian's own feelings, wei changze was considered lesser to him and didn't seem to outdo him, since nobody's out there years later still waxing poetry about wei changze's skills.

it may not be the only thing jiang cheng wants out of a twin pride dynamic, but it is a big part of it. regardless of his parents' intentions in taking wei wuxian in and treating him certain ways, this twin pride right-hand man thing is what jiang cheng has felt owed since childhood. he gave up his dogs for wei wuxian, people gossip about his sect heir position with wei wuxian there... jiang cheng wants the reciprocation of what he views as personal sacrifices.

he is ignorant to the depth of what wei wuxian must've suffered for over 6 years as a malnourished orphan child on the streets. he hates how wei wuxian's intelligence, witty charm, and cultivation abilities are naturally stronger than his own. he does care about wei wuxian a lot and want them to be together as sort of-brothers, sort of-friends, sort of-young master and sect servant...

...but if it's between that unclear (yet still caring) relationship and being able to save himself just a little bit more, jiang cheng nearly always manages to clam up in the face of danger and choose the latter, which ultimately benefits himself most. maybe it's a stretch to call that sort of thing greed, but it certainly isn't selfless.

there are of course plenty of justifications for this. it's his duty as sect heir. his home and sect was severely damaged by the wen attack and subsequent war; he had to protect himself, etc.

but doesn't that prove the point?

wei wuxian may be charming, but in terms of pure social standing, he is lower and far more susceptible to being punished or placed in harm's way by people who have more power and money. to protect wei wuxian, yunmeng jiang's long-term head disciple and semi-family member, even in the face of backlash and public scrutiny would've been the selfless thing to do. this is what wei wuxian does for the wen remnants in the burial mounds.

jiang cheng does not choose this. it's not even an unreasonable choice for him to make! nobody else in the great clans is doing such a thing, stepping out of line to take on a burden that could weaken them in the long-run. wei wuxian himself doesn't hate jiang cheng for it; he lets go of these things and focuses on what good he can do in the present.

jiang cheng thinks further into the future - what would happen to him if he continued vouching for wei wuxian and taking his side? what about jiang cheng's face, his sect's face? would wei wuxian even care to reciprocate somehow? everyone expects him to cut off wei wuxian for being dangerous, for threatening his position, for...

do you see what i mean? to call jiang cheng selfless for falling in line with exactly what people expected him to do after the war is not only wrong, it's foolish.

"but they faked their falling-out!" okay. why fake it to begin with, except to protect jiang cheng and the jiang sect's own face? is that selfless? who does it ultimately serve to protect? wei wuxian canonically internalizes the idea that he stains all that he touches, including lan wangji, and agrees to the fake fight because he doesn't want to cause the jiang sect harm. regardless, it eventually slides into a true falling-out, and in the end jiang cheng is more or less unscathed reputation-wise while wei wuxian falls.

that isn't selfless. it's many things! it's respecting his clan and his ancestors, it's making a good plan for the future of his sect and cultivation... but it isn't a truly selfless in the interest of what's right rather than in the interest of duty and what's good for him and his family lineage.

that brings me to my next point: even though wei wuxian hid the truth of the golden core transfer, jiang cheng spent nearly 20 years believing that the golden core "renewal" he was given was a birthright gift of wei wuxian's from baoshan-sanren, an immortal sect teacher of wei wuxian's mother's and a martial elder to wei wuxian.

of course we all know that's a big fat lie, but jiang cheng believed that wei wuxian gave up a critical emergency use gift to him for decades! he was lied to, yes, but jiang cheng immediately agreed without even needing to be convinced. the light in his dead eyes came back with hope the moment wei wuxian even said baoshan-sanren's name. he accepted wei wuxian's offer to give that up to him and take it via identity theft without missing a beat.

with how mysterious and revered baoshan-sanren is, that's obviously not a light sacrifice to just give up to anyone, no matter how close they might be to you. pretending to be wei wuxian to take the gift could even be considered dangerous. what if she found out and got offended? could wei wuxian be hurt by that?

jiang cheng doesn't even hesitate. wei wuxian is the one who mentions that if jiang cheng doesn't pretend to be him, the immortal master could get angry and they'd both be goners. and funnily enough, the day they do go to "the mountain", jiang cheng is the one worried and suspiciously wondering if wei wuxian was lying to him or had misremembered.

of course they've both been traumatized like hell prior to this point. but still: it speaks to how broken he was at the moment as well as to his character overall.

i digress: jiang cheng "gets his golden core back" via what he believed was a gift that should've been wei wuxian's to use in serious emergencies. rather than use it for himself, wei wuxian risked his own safety and gave it to jiang cheng... and jiang cheng still ends up embittered and angry, believing that wei wuxian is arrogant and selfish.

if he truly views them as 100% brothers and equals with no caveats, why would he think that way? it's not like he needs to grovel before wei wuxian for doing that, or to reciprocate... but this is what i mean when i say jiang cheng feels he is owed things by wei wuxian. wei wuxian's actions hold a very different weight in jiang cheng's mind, and jiang cheng himself doesn't ever act the same way, except once.

is it wrong for him to feel like he is owed something? it depends. many asian cultures, including my own, feel that a person owes their family in ways that may not make sense to westerners. for example, it's considered normal for a child to owe their parents for giving birth to them, or to other caretakers for feeding, clothing, sheltering, educating them, etc.

however, something like verbally saying "thank you" or "i'm sorry" to family is considered crazy- why would you owe that? you're supposed to inconvenience your family; saying thank you or sorry is the sort of thing you say to a stranger or acquaintance. i get half-seriously lectured by my elders on this a lot even now, even though they know such phrases are just considered good manners in the US.

this muddies up the idea of wei wuxian being jiang cheng's family vs his family's charge or servant even more. jiang cheng wants wei wuxian to be close... but ultimately doesn't really choose to use what power he DOES have to protect wei wuxian. he considers himself still owed something that in his mind wei wuxian flagrantly never repays.

this isn't even getting into how despite spending a majority of his time with the yiling patriarch he never once noticed that wei wuxian stopped using any spiritual power-based cultivation. even lan wangji, who met them far more rarely, realized that something was wrong and that wei wuxian had taken some sort of spiritual damage, hence the "come with me to gusu".

of course manpain is fun and i'm not immune to the juicy idea of them reconciling and talking things out... but jiang cheng is deeply mired in his own desire to be "above" wei wuxian in multiple ways, and doesn't realize the extent of wei wuxian's actions, the intentions behind them, and the consequences wei wuxian knowingly faced for them.

to not recognize this about jiang cheng, especially in the novels, is really revisionist if you ask me. i reiterate that i really do like him a lot. he's flawed, angry, traumatized and has poor coping mechanisms, an overall fascinating character... but he is not selfless nor ideal, and i seriously draw the line at people saying he is.

wen ning shoves this all into his face at lotus pier to disastrous results. it is the reason why jiang cheng's a total mess at guanyin temple, and the reason jiang cheng ultimately doesn't tell wei wuxian about the fact that he ran towards the wens on purpose.

for that one last act of his to have really been selfless, he needs to not seek anything in return. he did it purely because it was right to do to protect someone else. if that means wei wuxian never finds out about it, so be it.

that moment that ended up causing jiang cheng irreversible harm is not a debt that wei wuxian owes him. it hurts, but no matter how bitter it is, that realization is so important to him changing in the future.

[amluart]

A moment after the Siege of Eregion

[mars-ipan]

happy early discount chocolate day

[dickheadcanons]

This is just a little thing, but I just can't get behind characterizations of Jason that talk about him thinking that "Robin makes me magic" was proof that he was like, this sweet little kid.

For one thing, the Jason Todd who says that is pre-crisis. The Jason Todd who says that was being written as Dick, just a little more reckless and inexperienced. For another, Jason said that for exactly the same reason all Robins say shit; to justify disobeying Bruce lol.

The line isn't the cute wish-fulfillment of a poor kid from the Narrows. It's evidence of a circus acrobat's belief in his own invincibility, offered as proof that he is tougher than Bruce thinks he is.

The pages in question, from Batman #385:

[bright-eyed]

I really like that theres fanfiction of brad pitt and george clooney’s characters in ocean eleven. I have no interest in reading it but i like knowing it’s out there

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 9 ! :)

[direwombat]

of experiences and other characters

tagged by @trench-rot, @aceghosts, @strafethesesinners, @inafieldofdaisies, @fourlittleseedlings, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @adelaidedrubman, and @roofgeese to do this uquiz and/or this quiz!

tagging: @strangefable, @confidentandgood, @detectivelokis, @sstewyhosseini, @baldurrs, @jacobsneed, @madparadoxum, @nightwingshero, @josephslittledeputy, @voidika, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, @hopelesscounty, @kittiofdoom, @sukoshimikan, @gaeadene, @purplehairsecretlair, @deputyash, @harmonyowl, and anyone else wanting to give these quizzes a go!

you leave people feeling challenged (affectionate)

a shiver. a breath of cool winter air, a stick n poke tattoo; the last few switchbacks at the end of a hike. a deep red. a proud sweat, a delicious ache. early dawn’s blue hour. a favorite story you love to retell. the excited scream, the staggering leap into water below. not fearless, but not afraid to let a good memory leave a few scars or stains. while you have moments of being rough around the edges—an acquired taste, a book not fully grasped in the first read-through—you can rest knowing that there will be people that rise to your challenge. you give off a sense of knowing yourself, and while that could be the case, you’re still learning, too. the close people in your life aren’t afraid of your seasons, your come-and-go silence, or your own way of showing love. they’re there to stay. they’ll join you on that blue hour dock just to read. they’ll take that last-minute road trip to the desert. you’re here to say, “I know you could do it.”

my oc as other characters (a sampling from the top 20)

leroy jethro gibbs (ncis)

mike ehrmantraut (bcs/brba)

sun bak (sense8)

john wick (john wick)

sayid jarrah (lost)

trinity (the matrix)

riza hawkeye (fullmetal alchemist)

[the-batacombs]

Kay, I finally found a copy of Batman: The Wedding to read, so now I've read most of the whole little arc and it's. It's weird. It put a lot more pieces into place for me that I hadn't put together by fandom osmosis, which helped a lot, and I think I kind of understand the shape of the story that Tom King was trying to tell.

The thing that's really getting me is the fact that it really implies this like...deterministic Selina Kyle in opposition to a free will Bruce Wayne? She (and the narrative) build up this idea that Batman follows from suffering, and she makes her decisions accordingly. But in the last couple pages Bruce and Alfred's conversation suggests that Bruce has just been doing his best to find happiness this whole time.

The whole thing can have been engineered by Bane (confirming that Batman does not, in fact, follow from suffering) without eliminating the concern that Selina really thinks (a) Bruce is just that selfish and (b) Bruce is incapable of changing his behaviors.

So it's just...nothing? She leaves him at the altar just because she won't communicate with him and there's no further communication and he immediately falls into a guilt-sadness spiral? (And then Dick gets shot--)

It's weird. I think it would be a very good basis to move his and Selina's relationship out of the on-and-off primary love interest stage into the vaguely-amiable-exes stage (DC won't do it, but I can dream), but the primary implication here seems to be that Selina just really wasn't ready to get married, and consequently she blew up their relationship.

[tamaharu]

ive inherited a copy of lolita from my parents (i.e. i stole it from the library in our basement and started treating it like its mine) with the 1989 vintage international cover and i think its actually not that bad. better than the 50th anniversary one with the lips anyway imo (which is the cover for the library ebook vers ive checked out).

like i think any cover that incorporates the "only convincing love story of our generation" quote anywhere kind of sucks on principle, and the fact that it features a photo of a girl at all really goes against nabakovs instructions, but compared to other covers that break those two rules, the haziness of the photo creates a really evocative atmosphere i feel matches the book more or less.

[comradecowplant]

i've still been feeling bad about things not working out with the sad neighbor lady with the busted leg, even though SHE was the one who 180ed and pushed me away, but then i start thinking about all the shitty little -isms (mostly race) she said, some of which i confronted in the moment & some that i picked my battles over given the circumstances, and then i feel less bad :)

[fmhobeus]

fwb!suguru who knew he wanted to fuck when he first laid eyes on you. then wanted to take you out to endless dinners to chat his ears off when he first spoke to you.

fwb!suguru who grew to like you without fucking you, almost forgot it was what he wanted you for – a life together or a night together?

fwb!suguru whose dick got painfully hard when you taunted him, rolled your eyes at him or outwitted him. he lived for your sassiness.

fwb!suguru who happened to fuck you on a random night unexpectedly and it changed the trajectory of his life.

fwb!suguru who stayed after every dick appointment. cuddled with you on the bed, watched movies or your favourite TV show, ordered take out and held you in his arms till you both inevitably fell asleep.

fwb!suguru who couldve sworn he wasn't in love with you. he would still fuck other people (and then come back to you, poor baby was thinking of you the whole time)

fwb!suguru whose grown accustomed to your presence. he calls you when he isn't feeling okay, you call him when something bothers you. he's grown used to you telling him all about work, how you got your nails done, how you saw a cute cat near your apartment. trivial details, which coming from anyone else he would hang up, but he looks forward to them with you.

fwb!suguru who eventually stops fucking other people and is just your man, without you knowing.

fwb!suguru who is determined to mark you up in placed people will notice. your neck, your thighs, your collarbones.

fwb!suguru who believes in giving you his all. all of his long girthy dick that pumps you full it should be criminal, his long slim fingers that have made you orgasm so often and hit that deep spot with unbeat ease, his long tounge... oh god his tounge. he thinks maybe even his long life ahead is yours too, all yours. his little kids too maybe? he doesn't like to think too much about that.

fwb!suguru who has to have your pussy checked with his tounge daily. he has to lap up your insides no matter any circumstances. his voice purrs across your body when he talks you through your orgasm.

"mhmm yeah cum all over my face beautiful, I know you want to"

fwb!suguru who gets sick at the thought of you sitting so pretty for another man when you tell him you're going on a date. suguru who looks so disturbed at the thought of another man even looking at his pretty girl who isn't really his.

fwb!suguru who takes you to corporate events just so he can call you his girlfriend, even if it's just pretend. when you question him it's always "easier explanation than a friend i fuck on the regular, isn't it?"

fwb!suguru who knows how you like your coffee in the morning. he knows what you like for breakfast, your comfort food, your hobbies, your favourite movies, your least favourite movies, your icks, your past. he knows you like he knows himself. he thinks of you when he passes your favourite cafe, he texts you when he sees something in the colour you like.

fwb!suguru who is sure he hasn't felt this way before, who is so vulnerable with you that it scares the shit out of him.

fwb!suguru who is afraid, angered at everything about you. he's angry at how you lull him into a sense of security, how you hold him, how sweet your voice sounds when you call him by his name, how you take care of him, how you listen to him. he hates how your pussy clenches his dick for dear life, milking it dry and how you never let a drop of his cum go to waste, licking it up like a little slut. he's fearful too. about losing you. about where loving you the way he does leads. loving you? wait. he loves you? fuck. fuck. fuck. this hasn't been according to plan at all.

[nyerusnova]

Going to toss in my two cents here real quick but I firmly believe: Batman cannot kill, and there cannot be exceptions to that rule, or else the entire ethos falls apart.

Like trust me, Bruce Wayne has personally contemplated killing people multiple times, and has come very close to it before. It is not that he doesn't ever want to kill, but he knows that the Batman cannot kill. Because if he does, then the hope of Gotham is lost, nevermind elsewhere at large. People will have no reason to believe in their heroes, when their heroes decide to play judge, jury, and executioner. Even if we (and diegetically, many characters) know that certain criminals/villains will never change their ways and only want to cause more harm, Batman especially cannot go that far.

Other heroes (most notably Wonder Woman) do fight for more "pragmatic" reasons, and thus will take a life when they deem necessary. But Batman is not one of them. What he's fighting for is not just harm reduction, it's to show people that goodness and justice can prevail. And you might not agree with that ideology, but that's still something important to exemplify -- both in-universe and out.

If he kills, then even ordinary people will have no reason to trust him. Batman goes from a symbol of hope to a yet another symbol of fear for the people of Gotham.

And no, the Joker of all people is not an exception -- he is in fact a major point/reason for the rule. Could maybe other people kill the Joker? Yeah, sure. Narratively boring in most cases, but it would take out the trash. However, of anyone in that universe, it absolutely cannot be Batman. Because that is exactly what the Joker wants: chaos! That's why him being taken out by other people isn't as interesting, because to him his own death is largely meaningless. What the Joker wants is to prove that anyone can be pushed to that edge, including someone as righteous as Batman. If Batman kills him, then the Joker has successfully destroyed the hope of Gotham. He wins. And that's not something Batman can ever take back or recover -- it's game over.

As for Jason: keep in mind that Jason has had chances to kill the Joker himself. But he hasn't, because he wants Bruce -- Batman -- to do it. It presents an interesting quandary, because with this, Jason isn't thinking about the big philosophical picture that Bruce is. (If you want a generous take on him, he is more "pragmatic" about harm reduction. Killing the Joker would save lives, and he wants Bruce to see that. A more realistic take is that it is selfish desire for vengeance as the main driving factor. I won't get into his characterization it now because it's a mess that deserves 10 posts on its own.) At the end of the day, what he really wants for his father to choose him, over his own ideals. And he's not even entirely wrong in wanting that. Fundamentally, that's what makes the conflict between them so interesting. Bruce cannot put his children or loved ones first; he is a hero first, and everything else second. That's the tragedy in being a hero. That bears it's own meta, imo.

In short, Batman's no-kill rule has persisted in comics for decades for a good reason.

I'm actually curious now to find out what the common consensus is so

[nanaslutt]

PLEASE write more of geto being a perv🙏🙏

“pt.1” here

Geto x reader, in showing you how sorry he is for being a creep<3

perv!geto is my obsession atm

contains: fem reader, non consensual photography (reader is kinda ok w it), pervy roomate!geto, crack, gojo makes an appearance, talk of gojo wanting reader, sexual tension, cunnilingus, masturbation(geto), degradation, soooooooo much dirty talk, sweet!geto at the end<3

MDNI

°❀��.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

About a week ago you were watching a scary movie with geto on your laptop, drinks placed on the table next to it; dumbly.

So of course when the scariest jump scare you’ve ever seen in your life occurred, your legs jerked into the glass of liquid, spilling it all over your laptop and absolutely ruining it.

“God- Fuck! Noooo! nonono!” you shot up to grab a blanket, pillow, anything, to soak up the liquid, “TAKE YOUR SHIRT OF NOW,” you yelled in a panic to your dark haired roommate, who; you noticed throughout this entire excursion had barely moved a muscle to help, besides the muscles used to laugh at you.

“Babe I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that shit is beyond saving,” he laughed, placing his hand over his chest while he did.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck, I use my laptop every single, and day I absolutely cannot afford to buy a new one right now.” you placed your head in your hands in defeat.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” geto said, at the end of his fit of giggles at your expense.

“Yeah right, ur broke as shit too, that’s why we’re living together.” you said, muffled into your legs as your body had now fully collapsed in on itself.

“Yeah ur right, but that kinda hurts my feelings,” he said, smirk showing through his faux pout, “thought you liked livin’ with me,”

The two of you bickered back and forth for a while. You ended up putting the laptop in a bag of rice; to no avail, it was completely ruined.

Geto had been nice enough to let you use his laptop in the meantime; only when he was with you though, which you found slightly weird but at least you had access to it to some degree.

Right now you had the house to yourself though. Satoru had picked him up half and hour ago, saying something about wanting to try some new coffee shop with word famous sweets; that meant you had free range of his laptop.

You knew how to clear search history, so you would be fine. You just wanted to watch a movie anyways, nothing criminal.

Sneaking into his room, you unplugged the silver electronic, sliding it under your arm as you took it back to your room. Placing the laptop on your bed and getting comfortable against your pillows, you cracked it open, You had accidentally seen him type in his password before, so getting in was no problem.

What was a problem is what was on the screen when the laptop came to life. An entire folder of up skirt panty shots; and not just anyone’s panty shots; they were yours.

Scrolling through the decently filled folder, you noticed ones that dated back months ago. You saw a picture of you laying on your bed, head in your hands while you kicked your feet behind you; the short skirt you were wearing gave geto the perfect view of your unobstructed ass, slight pink peaking between your cheeks.

Other too, you doing more mundane things like sitting on your knees on the barstool you had in the house, poking out your ass, once again giving that dark haired pervert the perfect shot of your clothed mound.

You were almost impressed at how many there were, and how make different angles he was able to get without your knowledge.

Trying to wrap your head around the idea that yes, your sweet roommate who has never attempted to come onto you once, had a secret folder filled with lewd photos of you.

Saving the file, you sent it to yourself. Once you heard the chime on your phone you quickly copied the link, and sent it to the culprit himself, no other message attached to it but the folder alone.

——

“Ummm ooh, I’ll also get the triple chocolate cream filled crepe cake please! What do you want suguru?” gojo chirped.

Geto started at him with disbelief, he had just ordered 5 full size deserts with the longest name he’d ever heard; all sounding like a stomach ache and a half; and they were all for himself.

“Right..uh, i’ll just get the vanilla scone and a black coffee please.” Geto politely spoke to the man taking his order.

Gojo continued conversing with the cashier, finishing up ordering any last minute items and paying.

Geto felt his phone buzz in his pants, checking it quickly while gojo finished up the interaction; both of them starting to walk to booth in the corner of the cafe.

Suguru’s heart sank to his balls when he opened your message. He knew you were mad too, because you didn’t say anything else other than a link to his private folder of your panty shots. “Fuuuuuuuuuck haha,” geto laughed, hand coming up to cover his smirk as they slid into the booth.

“Huh? let me see, what happened?” Gojo nosed, trying to peek over the table at geto’s phone when he noticed it was the source of his distress.

“I might have to sleep at your house tonight, maybe for the rest of my life I don’t know.” he said, hand dropping back into his lap as he shut his phone off.

“Did you forget to do your dishes or somethin’?” he asked, knowing how angry you got at Geto when he didn’t pick up after himself.

“Yeah maybe, or maybe my roommate just found the upskirt pics i’ve been taking of them for the past couple months.” he giggled, slight remorse in the back of his head. Not from doing it, but from being caught.

Gojo’s jaw dropped, covering his own mouth as he let out a boisterous laugh. “Hahaha oh man, you really are fucked.” the blonde slapped his own knee, “I’ll let you co-sign my lease tonight,” he said, scared that if suguru went home, he might actually get murdered.

Geto kicked satoru’s shin underneath the table, making him wince. Their giggles died down at geto’s misfortune after awhile. “So..” gojo started, “Yer’ gunna let me see the pics right?” he asked, “Already hurt you didn’t tell me about this,” he pouted,

“In your fucking dreams satoru,” geto snorted. He already saw the way gojo looked at you when he was over, always making passes at you and touching you any chance he got.

He would be damned if his bestfriend got his hands on you before he did. “WHAT???” gojo yelled a little too loud for the tiny space they were in, resulting in him getting shushed by geto, “pleaseeeee, I know how good you are at taking pictures I bet they’re soooo gooood.” gojo wined, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head against them.

“Keep dreaming satoru.” he laughed. The whine haired man kept his pouting up for awhile, calling Geto selfish and unfair, his sorrow immediately being forgot about when the massive tray of his deserts finally came out.

——

When you heard the front door to your shared apartment finally crack open open a couple hours later, you were in your bedroom.

His laptop had been tucked away in your bedside table in confiscation, while you awaited with a racing heart, for him to knock on your bedroom door.

You heard him place his keys on the table through the thin walls, then you hear his heavy footsteps as he starts to make his way to your room.

The air was still when the footsteps came to a stop in front of your door. You were feeling a lot less confident than you were before he got here, now the thought of confronting him made your mouth feel dry; heart beating out of your chest.

Finally, the knocks were being rapped on your door, you swear you died for a second when you heard his familiar voice call your name, followed by him asking politely if he could come in.

"Its open," you yelled back. When the wooden door creaked open and his frame came into view, you had to fight off all the neurons in your brain telling you to look away from his hooded eyes.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, the tension in the room was so thick it could be cut through with a knife. You had no idea why, but the current situation was admittedly arousing.

You stayed silent for a while, just staring at each other, neither one of you daring to break eye contact first, "So? What do you have to say for yourself?" you asked, voice coming out a lot less confident than you wanted.

"Im sorry." he replied, swallowing thickly, quickly sucking his lip into his mouth to wet it.

"You're sorry for what?" you asked clarifying, This wasn't going how you expected.

"I'm sorry for being a pervert and taking panty pics of my roommate." He said, taking a couple steps towards where you were sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Are you really sorry?" You asked, voice full of need, as you did your best to supress it, trying to ignore the growing heat in your stomach.

"So sorry" he answered, having made his way inches away from you, eye contact still not being broken. You both noticed how heavily you were breathing, his eyes flitting down to your lips for a second before he sucked his lip into his mouth again, and letting it slide out, dark eyes meeting yours again.

The only thing you heard was your heart beat loudly in your ears as you spoke your next words, "Show me how sorry you are."

----

"Mm so fucking sorry," geto's voice vibrated against your clit.

"F-fuck ohmygod," You moaned at the feeling of him wrapping his lips around the bud, tongue peeking through to flick at it.

"A-again-" you whined,

"'M sorry," he groaned, staring up at you with a smirk as he released your clit, flattening his tongue over the sensitive bud.

You were laid back, ass placed at the end of the bed, Geto was sitting back on his heels as he perched himself on the floor between your thighs, hand rapidly stoking over his throbbing cock.

"W-wipe that sm-ile off your face" you wined, trying to keep the little hold you had over geto.

He didnt stop smiling, but you could'nt tell when he burried his tongue inside your pussy, pressing his face hard into your wetness and shaking his head. His pointed nose rubbed your clit in the most delicious way when he did that.

"S-so fucking dirty" you chastised at how sloppily he was eating your cunt. He was trying to fuck his apology into your pussy with his tongue, really trying to prove how sorry he was.

Loud slurping noises bouncing off the walls and going straight to your head; and to his cock; making you both dizzy at the situation.

"Sorry I'm so nasty," he groaned, muffled by your folds as he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it.

Quickening the pace of his hand against his cock, he was squeezing it the same way your walls squeezed his tongue, trying to mimic the feeling. Pre was dripping steadily from his cock and onto the floor, leaving a little puddle there.

Geto was getting off on this so hard.

Every time you squeezed your thighs around his head and degraded him, his abs clenched, balls tightening with the need to blow his load.

"O-only thing youre good for is eating my pussy, f-fuck" you said meanly with a whimper, eyes dropping down to his handsome face and seeing how fucked out he looked from your words, as he nodded his head and moaned into you, agreeing with you.

He needed to you keep talking to him like that, to keep humping his face, suffocating him, treating him like a bitch, he needed it.

"Use me-" he cut himself off as he moved his mouth back up to your clit, making out with the little bud messily, "wanna show you how sorry I am." he drunkenly smiled at you.

You gripped his hair in a makeshift bun, rolling your hips against his face as he stuck his tongue out for you to get yoruself off on.

Groans of "mhm mhmm" could be heard from Geto between your legs, pumping his cock impossibly faster feeling your wetness gush out of you from his minstrations.

"Ohmygod feels so good- shit-" You wined, tipping your head back, feeling your orgasm build quicky as you rubbed against his tongue just right.

His chin was absolutely covered in your slick, pretty eyes rolling back in his head as he felt himself get pushed towards the edge as well, abandoning his hand keeping your thigh spread to join his other between his legs. He massaged his balls between his fingers, increasing the pleasure he felt while you worked towards your end together.

"Fuck t-tell me your sorry again," you whimpered out, teetering on the edge of your orgasm, "Sorry" his deep voice immediately groaned out, cock throbbing when you yanked on his hair.

"Ag-ain" your moans broke up your speech,

"Sorry, m' sorry, sorry-" He kept babbling against your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through you.

You were feeling hotter at the strange power dynamic going on, using that to your advantage as he kept mumbling the word into you, sending you straight into the most mindblowing orgasm of your life.

"Coming f-uck fuck f-" your voice getting cut off as your stomach started contracting and jerking, you rode your high out on his tongue while he groaned a lengthy moan into you.

Behind where your vision was blocked by the bed, Geto was cumming all over his hand and the bottom of your comforter.

Geto's eyes repeatedly rolled back in his head, hand massaging his cum out of his balls as he stroked himself roughly through his orgasm.

Finally being able to breathe when you loosened your legs from their hold on his neck, dropping your hands from his hair as you laid back on the sheets. Geto's hands wet with his seed came up to massage your thighs, his head rasing from between them.

You both took a second to breathe heavily into the open air, your cunt as his cock alike twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

You felt his hold on you cease for a moment, a couple seconds later something was bouncing heavily next to your head. When you turned your head you were faced with a brand new, rose gold laptop, still in its packaging.

You looked back up at geto, who was now standing, running one of his damp hands through his hair, "If me eating your pussy didnt prove how sorry I am, I hope this will." He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fuck, Geto are you serious?" you beamed, picking your limp body up from the sheets and holding the package in your hands, he smiled at you fondly, watching you tear it open like a kid on Christmas.

Peeling the plastic from the cardboard you spoke, "Still making you delete all those photos by the way," resulting in him tipping his head back in a loud groan of defeat.

[loveanddeepthroat]

Come Home

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - Sylus has headed out to deal with some business, leaving you concerned for him as he doesn’t return when he told you he would. Fluff and a bit of angst. Sylus and MC aren’t yet in a relationship.

Word count - 2k

A/N - Hi! This is my first little one shot for LADS, and I hope you enjoy it. I do accept requests and look forward to writing more for this fandom 🖤

It had been hours since you last heard from him.

You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t need to worry. That he was more than capable and has always returned in one piece. That your worry is wasted on him anyway, considering the fact that you weren’t even supposed to like him.

But you felt sick.

It was almost impossible not to be concerned. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he has always been reachable. You’ve tried his phone so many times that the battery eventually gave up on your futile attempts and went to sleep—which is what you should be doing at this hour. 

Mephisto had accompanied him on his outing, Luke and Kieran staying at the base with you under Sylus’s orders. They didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that it was currently three hours past the time Sylus had told them he’d be back. They know him better than you do, but their constant reassurance did little to soothe the panic starting to show.

“Please,” you practically beg. “I have this awful feeling that something has happened to him. Please go and look for him.”

Kieran groaned at her, tired of having to repeat himself once more. “We already told you.”

“Boss’s orders are non-negotiable,” Luke chimes in from where he’s lounging in an armchair.

“He’d have our heads as soon as we walked out the door.”

You were becoming more irritated each second by their nonchalant attitude. They didn’t even seem to give a shit, and you weren’t currently in the right mindset to delve into why you gave so much of a shit.

He was a criminal. A man who had such questionable intentions and motives that you didn’t even want to know the bare minimum of what he got up to whenever he headed out alone.

If something had happened to him, however, you wanted names.

As poorly as your acquaintance with him had begun, you found him to be more intriguing with every moment spent in his presence. His likes and dislikes, his attentive nature whenever you’re around, the way he chooses a vinyl record based on the type of mood he’s in—even the way he dresses has you analysing his every six feet and two inches of pure, solid muscle.

He wasn’t bad on the eye, especially when he was looking at you. You couldn’t fully figure it out, but there was a very subtle tenderness to his presence when he was around you. Subtle in a way that didn’t overshadow his ability to be the biggest asshole you’d ever met.

“If you keep pacing like that then I’m going to throw up,” Luke complains.

You shoot him a harsh glare. “If you don’t like it then get out and find your boss,” you grit back.

With an exaggerated huff, he pulls himself out of his seat, stretching his arms over his head. You feel a glimmer of hope, only for it to be shot down almost immediately. “I’ll let you know if I pass by him in my dreams,” he teases, walking out of the lounge and towards his own room.

You wanted to drag him back and push him out of the front door, but the man could probably put you to sleep with a snap of his skilled fingers. Instead, you growl angrily as his chuckles sound from the hallway.

Kieran stood up, too, mimicking his twin with his stretching. He paused for a moment, and you waited for his addition to his brother's teasing.

“He’ll be back,” he assured, surprising you. “If he’s not back by morning, we’ll figure something out. Just go to sleep.”

He doesn’t wait for a response from you as he follows after Luke, both of them turning in for the night. Sleep sounded like pure bliss, but you weren’t going to be able to do so.

You couldn’t even sit down, your legs automatically taking you around every single piece of furniture so many times that you were starting to get dizzy. 

“Please come back,” you chanted quietly to yourself quietly, if only to keep your pacing on track and your mind alert. 

“Please come back. Please come back.”

You weren’t sure how long it had been, but as soon as you heard the front door, you bolted for it on unsteady legs.

He came in quietly, which was completely overshadowed by your crashing into things on your way to get a visual on him. You practically fell through the door that led to the entry hall, where he looked only mildly bewildered and wholly amused.

There were no visual signs of any injury, but light blood splatters dotted across his white shirt, indicating an altercation. Mephisto sat happily on his shoulder, cawing as soon as he laid his mysterious little red eyes on you. The damn bird was never too happy whenever you were around.

Sylus raised an eyebrow at you. “Expecting someone?” 

That asshole.

He dropped off the face of the earth for hours, and had the audacity to greet you with sarcasm. 

Before your brain could warn you about the threat of putting your hands on him, you sprang forward, striking his chest with the palm of your hand. Then again. And again.

It was pathetically weak from your exhaustion, and he didn’t so much as blink as you assaulted his blood-spattered shirt. Mephisto, however, took to fighting back immediately, pecking at your hands and screeching.

Sylus shooed him away quickly, and the mechanical crow reluctantly took his leave. He proceeded to just stand there as his winged companion flew away, entirely unbothered by your outburst.

Your movements were quickly faltering, the already feeble slaps to his torso becoming far and few between. Still, he did not move. Did not speak. He was the most feared man in the N109 Zone, and he was letting you lash out on him.

Your hand finally stopped on the lapel of his coat, gripping it for a second to catch your breath. He waited for you to finally take a step back, your arms crossing over your chest immediately so you could fully close in on yourself. You were certain that your little outburst was going to bring some repercussions.

Unable to fight it, your bottom lip started to tremble. You had been walking around that lounge for so long that you had convinced yourself he was not coming back. That the wrong person had finally found him and gotten the better of him.

And you just know what he would’ve said if you indulged him in that speculation. What a silly little thought, sweetie.

He closed the space between you, your head automatically dropping to avoid his crimson gaze. You couldn’t bear it, the anticipation of what he was going to do. Your ass was likely headed back to Linkon on foot.

Warm fingers curled beneath your chin, lifting your gaze back up to his. He was towering over you, but you strangely didn’t feel intimidated. All you could feel was his warmth, and your wave of emotions crashing into their withering barrier.

His face gave nothing away as he studied you, still holding your trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Are you finished?”

He didn’t ask it sarcastically. He was giving you an opening. If you weren’t, he’d allow you to resume until you got it all out of your system.

But you were done, your arms feeling like jelly to the point that crossing them was taking a big effort from you. You nod, feeling wetness pooling in your eyes. This all felt ridiculous. He didn’t owe you phone calls or explanations, you both barely considered each other friends. 

The surprisingly soft pad of his thumb brushed gently across your shaking lip, his eyes following the movement. “I’m sorry.”

In any other circumstance, those two words would have shocked you enough to make you fall over. But you were a little too far on the delusional side of exhaustion, your body running on the fumes of your panic.

Your eyes flicker away, the wetness tipping over the edge and dripping off of your lashes. He turned your drifting head back to him to lock eyes with you again. He never did like it when you broke his gaze.

“Things got a bit out of hand,” he explained quietly, not needing an explanation for why you were so upset. “You shouldn’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” you lie, earning an amused chuckle from him.

He brushed his knuckle across your cheek to rid you of your tears. “No? Why else would a kitten get her claws out, then? Did Luke and Kieran forget to feed you?”

You scoffed at his teasing, following his lead back into the ease of your strange companionship. “They’re terrible babysitters,” you say, sniffling away the last of your upset. 

He smirked, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. He pulled you towards him, embracing you gently with a deep inhale. You almost swore he was smelling your hair, but you shut that thought down. It was far too complicated for such a tired mind to dwell over.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve both embraced, but this instance did feel quite different. It felt comforting, rather than nerve wracking. Nobody embraces a man like Sylus without at least a modicum of fear beneath the surface.

“You could have called,” you whispered. “Or…or at least answered my calls.”

He sighed, the blow of breath tickling your hairline. “There isn’t a good signal where I went tonight,” he explains. “I should have mentioned that. I didn’t want to call once I did have service in case you were sleeping. I apologise.”

An overwhelming warmth filled your chest, different to the one emanating off of his body. You look up at him, lifting a hand to his forehead. He humours you by allowing it, his eyes trained on yours as you felt the cool skin beneath the hair falling over his face.

“Are you coming down with something? You’ve apologised to me twice now,” you say, half serious.

He didn’t laugh or tease, his face slipping back into that easy nonchalant expression. “I assure you, I’m not coming down with anything. I could ask you the same thing, though. Since when did you become a worrier, kitten?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. It was something you yourself had to figure out. Caring for him wasn’t on your bingo cards when you first met. If anything, the very first day you met, you’d have been relieved if he hadn’t returned.

“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur, his smirk returning at your half-assed response.

“I’ll try, but I do get attached,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. He looks as though he’s contemplating something, and it takes a moment before he speaks again. “I’ll get us some better communication devices. Something you can carry around that I can alert you on.”

A slight sense of guilt washed over you. “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to be concerned about my insecurities, I shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you.”

Sylus shook his head, his mind already made up. He taps a finger against your temple. “My concern about what goes on in there is for me to deal with. If some better technology eases your troubles, then it eases mine too.”

There it was. That side of him that kept you so very intrigued and made you feel a sense of…home? He often used words that didn’t m quite mean the same as his intentions, but you could see it in him.

He cares.

He rubs a firm hand up and down your back before turning you around, lightly pushing you away from the front door.

“It’s about time we got some sleep,” he says, barely above a whisper. 

You let him guide you through the halls, his lips dropping to your ear as he whispered again.

“Feel free to monitor me.”

[streetlamp-amber]

never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.