#WITH A BATH TUB IN THE KITCHEN

[newty]

🍯 author you know

🌻 least favourite character / hardest to write

🌷 writing achievement you want to brag about

summertime writers' asks

🍯 author you know

im the only person on this planet who knows andré tellier, other than my fc mates and coworkers who are constantly bombarded with the misadventures of my lil wet meow meow man. its still a mess but behold:

https://andretellier.com/

🌻 least favourite character / hardest to write

i havent written a character i disliked using in a while.... sometimes i get a bit stuck when im writing a friend's oc tho, bc i wanna represent them well and give them a fun setting/concept. allen, jorge, and the rest of jillian's spouses in my mafia, vigil, are super difficult to write since i lack a firm plot for them. they have many vibes, quirks, and conflicts that are interesting, but not enough to be able to write them on demand like my ishgardians.

🌷 writing achievement you want to brag about

honestly i still cant believe i wrote my thesis. i can see all the issues with it now (took years to find the strength to look at it again), but i really put everything my dying brain could muster in undergrad to complete it. i had no idea what i was doing, wanted to tear my hair out when my thesis director had me rewrite my prospectus 5 times, and submitted it while crying that i needed more time.

it was abt siegfried sassoon. he wrote abt wwi constantly, so he would revisit, rewrite, and recontextualize the same event in different formats & with different life perspectives. i analyzed the way his language for describing trauma changed as he aged & developed his voice. then i put his techniques into practice by writing a first person (the real HORROR) epistolary wwi story.

and then i got an a+. and was nominated to join phi beta kappa for it. my director had nothing but good things to say, and she was awed by how immersive my wwi diction was while my analysis of sass convinced her that he was much more than what she'd been teaching in her 1-day segment on the war poets. when i find my notes tearing apart his poems, diaries, fiction, and memoirs, i cant believe how smart i was

[inspiredlivingspaces]

IG beckiowens: design: @sweethome

[notquiteaghost]

we have two big plastic tubs in our front yard (yknow the round ones with the handles?) & they've been perpetually full of rainwater for months cuz. adhd house. but now it's getting warmer the local birds have taken an interest, and.

there's a bird bath in our garden that the little birds use, so the tubs are really just for the pigeons who live on the roof and the local crows. except. the pigeons bathe and drink the water! the crows keep washing their dead things in the water,

the water isn't that clean anyway but i just went out to the yard & scared off a crow and when i looked in the tub there was three (3) miscellaneous bits of carrion and all three were crawling with maggots. water in general contained many maggots. and, like. how do i explain to both the pigeons and the crows that we have two tubs so they can have one each but they cannot mix. are crows smart enough for pictographs.

[ottawarealtor]

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[handsometabbyc]

They really do make kitchens too damn small for everyone don't they?

[logansbaby]

no lube, no protection, every position possible, from dusk til dawn, from the bedroom to the kitchen table, from the bath tub to the shower, from the couch to the stairs, vertically and horizontally— we’re never stopping

[coldwellbankerterry]

[hoytsheriff]

Bathroom - Farmhouse Bathroom Large country kids' bathroom idea with gray tile vinyl flooring, shaker cabinets, a two-piece toilet, gray walls, a drop-in sink, quartz countertops, and white countertops.

[simplycrazyhunter]

Kitchen Dining Dining Room in Portland Maine Kitchen/dining room combo - large cottage light wood floor kitchen/dining room combo idea

[wolvesatbayct]

3/4 Bath in New York Bathroom - small traditional 3/4 white tile and porcelain tile porcelain tile bathroom idea with shaker cabinets, dark wood cabinets, a two-piece toilet, gray walls and granite countertops

[teaboot]

One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.

You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.

We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.

After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.

How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.

The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.

You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.

I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.

I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.

You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.

I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless

[fsmholidaze]

Infinity - Pool Inspiration for a huge modern indoor rectangular infinity hot tub remodel

[wrongonyou]

Pool in Miami

Example of a huge minimalist indoor custom-shaped infinity hot tub design

[noisett-e]

Bathroom in Philadelphia Large transitional master beige tile and subway tile dark wood floor and brown floor bathroom photo with recessed-panel cabinets, white cabinets, a one-piece toilet, beige walls, an undermount sink, granite countertops and a hinged shower door

[spacecampband]

Kids - Bathroom

Bathroom - large farmhouse kids' white tile ceramic tile and beige floor bathroom idea with recessed-panel cabinets, beige cabinets, a one-piece toilet, white walls, an undermount sink, quartz countertops, a hinged shower door and white countertops

[gojonanami]

“ A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME ”

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

summary: you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom.

warnings: 18+ suggestive, fluff, comfort, some angst, implications of the shinjuku showdown arc, implied gojo is no longer a sorcerer, gojo is your househusband, taking a bath together, taking care of him, copium really, satoru being a silly man

w/c: 1,184

“I’m home!”

You call into your home, the clatter of your keys and shoes as you shedded the things that chained you to the outside to submerge yourself in your oasis and into his arms. But as you got no reply, you stepped into your living room, scanning over the kitchen, to find no one.

Now where was your home?

“Satoru?” you called, heart skipping a slight beat, he was always waiting for you when you got home, usually on the couch or maybe in the kitchen the clank of the knife as he chopped away. Or even the many times that he was waiting by the door to only ambush you with kisses. But this time, nothing.

You rounded the corner to the hallway and peeked into your bedroom to find him asleep. You crept closer, careful not to wake him, and yup, he was fast asleep. His pretty snow white lashes resting against his cheeks, his chest slowly rising and falling as the soft sounds of his breaths parted his lovely lips.

You could watch him sleep for hours. You knew he never did enough of it before, and you’d argue he still didn’t do enough of it now. He always said he was fine sleeping 6 hours since it was twice as much as he usually got — and now he was working at home, so he could be ease.

But even so, you know he needed more.

As if he senses your thought, he stirs, starry blue eyes finding yours as he flutters sleep from his gaze, “sweetheart?” He’s murmuring, voice still beautifully raspy from sleep, “when did you get home?” He’s shifting to get up, but you use gentle hands to ease him back, “I haven’t started on dinner yet, sweets—“

“I got it, Toru,” you’re running your fingers through his hair, “just rest, baby,” and a protest is already on his lips, “let me guess what you did today — cleaned the house from roof to floor, stocked us on groceries, cooked lunch for me for the week, and probably a million other things,” you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, “I think I can handle dinner for one night at least,”

He’s pouting now, “but you just got home from work, Princess, what kind of househusband would I be—“ and you can’t help but laugh, he loved his self appointed title of househusband, especially since it was one he had chosen for himself, and he took any opportunity — even now to call himself that.

“I think even the absolute best househusbands need a break, and should listen to their wives, since I’m the one you want to pamper so much,” and his lips party in protest, but you’re leaning down to kiss them and his pout away, “let me take care of you, Toru,”

He’s sighing, as he leans up to press his forehead to yours, “and does your offer include a bath, sweetheart?”

~~~

“Y’know sometimes I feel guilty,” and you pause in your massage of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, suds from the bath you’d drawn for him covering both of your bodies as he leans against you in your tub, back pressed flush to yours.

“Guilty about what?” you ask, holding your tongue on the million reasons why he shouldn’t.

“For so long, I was the strongest,” he gives a small chuckle, “and it was fun, sometimes. But it was mostly lonely,” he leans back to look up at you, a small grin on his lips, “except when I was with you,” your lips curl, “and now I get to be with you, and I get to stay home — and the worst thing I have to do are the dishes,” and you snort.

“I told you I’d do them if you hate them so much,”

But he’s shaking his head, “Sometimes I think trying to deal with our cast iron is worse than fighting Sukuna—“ and you roll your eyes, “but there’s always this urgency that I have to be doing more. Telling me to keep going, moving, fighting—“

“You’ve done enough, Toru, more than enough,” your fingers cup his cheek, “too much, honestly. It’s okay to rest now. You’ve done your part—“

“But—“

“Didn’t you or someone say jujutsu is like a marathon, a baton pass?” Your fingers run through his white locks, before you shift yourself to sit in his lap instead, “the marathon is over, racers have packed up and gone home, and the finish line has been crossed,” your fingers rest on the back of his neck, tracing his undercut, “and that’s because of you and all you did to fight and raise up the next generation,” you say softly, and he’s pressing his head to your forehead.

“Is it okay for me to rest now?” and you’re pulling him into your arms, hoping your touch conveys what your words can’t.

“Yes, it is, Satoru,” you’re pressing soft kisses to his neck, “you don’t need to be the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo, and that’s all I want,” and he leans back, “you’re all I want,”

“Is that a proposal?” And you snort.

“We’re already married, weirdo—“ and his lips find yours, as they always did, his arms around your bare waist, as the water shifted and splashed, but you could barely feel anything except his lips against yours and the circle of his thumb against the small of your back.

He finally pulls away, a genuine smile on his lips, “And you married this weirdo,” and you chuckle, tracing his jaw with your finger, “you’re stuck with me for life,”

“Promise?” And he’s kissing you again in an instant, stealing your breath like he did the first time you met him all those years ago at jujutsu tech. And you knew you’d never love anyone else — not like him.

“Promise.”

Bonus:

Satoru’s arms wrap around you from behind as the two of you towel off after your bath, “what are we having for dinner?”

“Well someone insisted on me being in here with him, so I had to order out,” and he’s grinning, as he nuzzles your neck.

“Whoopsie, hehe,” and he’s humming, as he tugs your hips against his, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips, “can we have dessert first?”

“It is dessert. We’re having ice cream for dinner—“ and he’s kissing you again, but this time it’s languid and messy — all tongue and teeth, until he’s pulling away with a smirk at your breathless face.

“I want something sweeter, wife,” and you smile.

“Think you can finish before the delivery gets here?” And he’s already picking you up with ease in his arms, pinned under him in a moment, as his ocean blues flash with mischief from between your thighs.

“I can, but I don’t know if you’ll be done by then.” He says cheekily, as you only sigh.

If there was one thing that would always be true is that you would always be weak to Satoru Gojo — but not his abilities, but who he is.

Your husband.

“Let’s see, hm?”

a/n: I’m real upset about the leaks and this is my coping. I needed this.

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