#dumpster babies

[hurtyknees]

I have become a father???

TLDR; my mother found two kittens in a cardboard box that was LITERALLY on the road. She almost ran them over.

I fell in love instantly.

I might give more updates later, but right now I'm just pissy. What kind of asshole leaves out an animal, a baby at that, out in the cold, in a cardboard box tied with a string?

[springledongle]

:3

[emacrow]

Damian and the Dumpster baby.

Damian was doing patrols, with a bit of a minor rescuing and feeding the strays animals until he heard a noise from a dumpster.

Tonight was going to be a storm coming, and he rather check up on the strays, feed them, fixing any of the secure hiding places he put out for them for rain occasionally, and try to smuggle 1 or 6 into the barn again without Father knowing. Alfred can keep a secret sometimes.

Jumping on the edge of the dumpster to see a plastic bag tied up on the pile of trash with something squirming inside, alive obviously. Oh if this another group of puppies, he going to find the culprit himself and break their kneecaps and arms this time.

Easily untying the plastic bag and opening to reveal.. a little baby.

Not a kitten or a puppy, a living breathing human baby, cut and tied umbilical and a pale with a unique birth mark in a shape of a lichtenberg from his tiny hand fading to his chest.

This..

This was out of Damian's comfort line.

He had dealt with saving animals, people, children, hell even toddlers. He never dealt with a baby before much less a newborn.

He could panic later as he hear the sounds of a storm brewing. Carefully picking up the baby by the back of the head and and by the body, using his cape to as a blanket to cover the obvious nudity of the baby. Climbing onto his Red Robin theme Doom Buggy.

Taking care of a baby is no different then taking care of a baby animal, right?

.....

.....

.....

.....

He got caught after 5 month and a half by Alfred during feeding Danyal time, while scolded him about hiding the baby instead of coming to him.

He had a good reason to though, last time he told Alfred about the last newest addition, Bruce sended the Jafar the Ligor to a sanctuary. He still felt betrayed by that.(even though now Jafar is happily spending his days with the other mixed big cat breed but still)

He done a good enough job taking care of Danyal, even though he had to secretly look up baby stuff, medicine, clothes, a soft bedded cot and diapers.(the smell was much less worse then the sewer) he considered himself a great care-taker.(even though in the back of his mind, he feared that he might had unlocked that genetic adopt-bat bait traits that Dick warned him about)

Damian had gotten.. a bit attached, considering the idea of putting danyal in orphanage or a foster care wasn't ideal afterall the corrupted ones that Father and him had broken through over the years left a bad gut feeling if he had actually gone through with his plan. Danyal was one of his babies, only not covered in fur, scales, or a shell.

And he didn't do everything all on his own, Cass was the only who figured it out, kept it a secret and help out.. then steph found out... and Jason, Tim and Duke unfortunately found out after Cass and steph snuck danyal in the manor for a nice bath.

Only reason Dick didn't found out because everyone know he can't keep a secret away from Bruce's ear for long after found out Jason's new girlfriend was the new therapist in Gotham, and telling Bruce would feed his adopt-holic again and he end up having baby fever. (Tim didn't tell him what that word meant but he did look it up in a baby care guide book for new parents. And EW)

They were going to wait it out til Danyal was at least toddler age before sneaking him in the manor to gatekeep gaslight girlboss Father into thinking he already adopted him. (Steph's words, not his)

New post <-

[moodyvoid]

Imagine you and Tomura are out on a mission, when you hear the distinct sound of crying— a baby crying.

You follow the noise and find a baby, lying on top of garbage bags in a dumpster.

You go to pick them up and Tomura stops you, “What do you think you’re doing?” he asks.

“We’re not leaving them here.” You argue, as if he’s stupid.

“You’re not seriously suggesting we take a baby back to the hideout? We’re not babysitters. The league isn’t a place for babies.” He argues back, as if you’re more stupid.

“Tomura, they’re a baby. They’re helpless… defenseless… vulnerable! What if it were you all alone in an alleyway, begging for help?” you ask.

Tomura pauses as he stares at you, his eyes drifting over to the baby, but his mind clearly fixated on something else.

He sees snippets of him walking the streets alone, small, and scared. Begging for someone— anyone— to do something. Like a nightmare, he remembers taking refuge in an alleyway, his tiny hands still covered in dried blood. Why won’t anyone help?—

“Tomura?” You ask, him snapping out of his thoughts. He looks down in his arms, realizing he’s holding the baby.

He quickly places the baby in your arms. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when you can’t handle playing house anymore.”

—

Cut to hours later, Tomura is sitting with the baby in his lap as he plays Mortal Kombat. “That’s called a Fatality.”

[aalt-ctrl-del]

I am working on a "pro-choice" document for information and materials to assist with the movement of reproduction rights, and there are things on the narrative regarding the pro-choice movement I want to shift the perception of because the old narrative does fill constricted and outdated.

Constrictive in that it settles that promoting 'abortion' in unwanted pregnancies. A narrative that many '''''pro-lifers'''' latch onto, and is their only default. It's not the strongest counter argument, but it inserts negative connotations. As well, every person should have the right to cancel an unwanted or unplanned pregnancy for whatever reason. HIPPA should come foremost and protect that right.

Outdated in that is beyond the Roe V Wade timeline, wherein through scientific advancements, we know more about development through trimesters, the evolution process of a zygote (fuk them btw) and the fetus, and complications that can arise through the trimesters - OBYN doctors have better equipment for identifying a healthy fetus, for managing complications to preserve the fetus, and what to do when that fetus fails - what the body does with the material, and what becomes of that material. A "Stonebaby" or "reabsorption".

All pretty heavy stuff that ''''''pro-lifers'''' can't really comprehend.

There is also the misconception of "when life begins" as by scientific definition, life does not begin in the fetus until at least the 3 trimester. This date is important, because it is when the fetus is more likely to survive without life support - i.e., a preemie birth is no quite a miscarriage, but the 'birthed' fetus has the highest probability of survival without medical intervention. A preemie 'dropped' in the 2 trimester (3-4 months) has no chance of survival, this is still an underdeveloped fetus and requires oxygen feeding tools, and other specialized equipment to keep the fetus stable if not alive - even in those cases, the chance of survival is so low. In some cases, the doctors will allow the fetus to pass, since the mountain of complications that can come about are monumental, and the 'birthed' child is forever tethered to the medical service industry for their quality of life - which is denied by '''''pro-lifers'''''.

There is also the argument of humane treatment, or choice to 'self-terminate' that can be argued for fetus.

There is the whole and debate on quality of life for those already living, such as in the struggle of the dying process - terminally ill individuals. I want to add here that the process of hospice treatment and care for terminally ill, can endure for months, if not years. And it is a hot debate, because people ask about the ethical demands of allowing someone to end their life, when this process should be undertaken - when it is clear recovery is not possible, and the quality of life is in acute decline.

What does this have to do with a hypothetical human? A lot. Human biology is complicated, messy, and horrendous when it comes down to the process of conceiving a fetus. We have already seen the texas authoritarian government in heated pursuit of women with missed periods, women who need follow-up care following a miscarriage, and prosecutions - there is a critical lack of scientific comprehension from the governments part, in that those like abbot and private citizens do not understand the relationship between the biological functions of a living person and a zygote or zygotes - that the body itself WILL HAVE BEEF with the hypothetical human and decide to terminate naturally, if that zygote or fetus poses a threat or is not a viable cluster of cells.

It's all interesting stuff.

And what does that have to do with the quality of life and right to "self-terminate" or in this case, terminate the pregnancy. It falls under the persons choice to terminate an unwanted or nonviable pregnancy, in the privacy of a medical facility aimed at protecting the rights and fundamentals of those patients, and providing essential care in all situations, in an impartial environment. So if someone is told that the fetus has complications that will make the hypothetical child nonviable following birth, or other issues which will diminish or plateau a critical lack of life and quality to living, then the pregnant person is fully equipped to make the best and most humane decision for the child, if they wanted that child. Or if they wanted to continue the pregnancy, and care that this may require. A "wait and see" situation without threat of undermining the pause, because it goes beyond the marker for 'abortion", and which will leave the choice to the individual regardless unrealistic constraints.

This as well falls into the quality of life and critical plateau, in a situation where a person who is pregnant with an unwanted pregnancy, can decide that this is not the time for that - because situations in their environment and beyond their control and will disrupt the pregnancy - harm the fetus - or wherein bringing this hypothetical human into their home environment will not be safe; i.e., the environment is toxic, they live with hostile, and unstable individuals, the pregnant person has work full time and no assistance to provide care to the child - in the case of medical or food, or even shelter. A situation where resources divided between the child and its birther is not applicable, and one or the other must perish - usually the child.

A lot of complications which devalue and endanger the life of a child, and which results in a high infant fatality rate. Talk to a pediatrician who deals with "shaken babies" and you will immediately become pro-choicer.

Or if you have no soul and no morals, continue to be this delusional weirdo who gets off on taking care vulnerable individuals.

All of this cycles back to the human anatomy and biological process of forming the zygote, and all the drama that entails. Due to the """pro-lifers""" fixation with micromanaging a process that is both dangerous and life-threatening, to all those involved - the pregnant individual and zygote-fetus. Wherein some essential medications may become unavailable to the individual due to pregnancy or the chance of pregnancy - which falls into state management of rights and what medications can be allowed to a certain demographic, inducing violation of rights and freedoms. Which in turn endangers a pregnancy and those involved, based on medial issues the pregnant individual suffers (and a reason not to get pregnant).

"Well just don't have sex!" Again, a violation of basic human rights and privacy. None of this is anyone's business, aside from those involved. Stop state managing, stop with the authoritarian governing. You're supposed to be the "people of freedoms".

All of this narrative boils down to what is safe and humane to the individuals involved. In the medical field, there come tough choices which require technical training and an expertise into that field, in order to preserve the life and health, to the best of the physicians ability. Such elements are not really explored fully in the "pro-choice" movement, which - though it does outline the narrative fully - has an underlying distraction because of a negative perception that is "choice" versus "life", wherein the ideal of 'choice' is far more complex, involved, and messy (seriously, fuk zygotes).

Pro-choice should not be a single ideal of 'choice', it should be the inclusion of the practice of humane care and preservation of the individuals involved. It should be the acknowledgment that even in the medial field, despite the best efforts from the best doctors, the limitations and situations are beyond our control - in short, shit happens. This is a matter of "save all the babies" - as in the case of '''''pro-lifers''''''' wherein the narrative is ignorant, biased, and riddled with judgment for the persons involved. Whereas in the case of the "pro-choice" movement, difficult information is presented, and those involved make difficult choices to the best of their ability. The HUMANE choices, with intent for quality of life, and the idea that next time, better can be done.

If a person suffers multiple miscarriages, that they are not then ridiculed or prosecuted for "crimes" that are beyond their control. That this person - if they so choose - will retain the right to continue the pursuit of conceiving and bearing their own child.

That if someone is told that their fetus has no heartbeat, or the spine is exposed and the head is malformed, that when any complication arises that would either endanger the person pregnant, the fetus - that it can be canceled at any time, thus the process of healing and trying again, will be within reach. Or if a pregnancy results in the degradation of the pregnant individuals health, causes seizures, that a hormonal imbalance or multitude of other health issues arise from the current pregnancy - can be met with a choice to terminate - regardless who is in danger from the pregnancy. That if someone sees their future is bleak and they feel their life is in danger, for any reason, that terminating an unwanted condition can be within reach, and can be conducted in safety and privacy.

"Pro-lifers" want the preservation of judging and controlling other peoples bodies, with the stakes so high - it is a malicious cruelty these people relish in. It is their call to action and narrative. The concept of "all life is precious" is only spouted by these individuals, thus that ''''pro-lifers''''' can torture and mock those that they deem lesser. There is no kindness nor compassion among this group, there is only superiority.

Though I express that the "pro-choice" narrative needs fresh posturing in modern times, it should press upon that "choice" is conducted with the best information, with the best intentions, and with an ideal of humane and ethical pursuit. These values are not easy to meet, but they are the best argument. That the Hippocratic Oath will be upheld to the best of the abilities of the physician and the individuals involved. This narrative does not include ignorant and short lived Senators or Congressional representatives to the state, but should only involve the individuals with years if not decades of training.

[iasipwardrobe]

Mac layering t-shirts and long sleeves

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Dumpster Baby 2: Chaggie & Baby

Charlie: (panicking) Perri!? PERRI! Perri, sweetie, come down for Mommy, please?

Perri: (short for Perriwinkle based on her hair and color theme, wings flapping 100 beats a minute as she barely manages to hover around the chandelier in the very, VERY high ceilinged lobby) Hehehehehe!~

Charlie: Sweetie, please come down. Mommy's worried about you falling. Your wings aren't strong enough for those heights yet! (to Angel) How did she even get up that high?! You were supposed to be watching her while I went to the bathroom!

Angel: What? She flapped her wings and used the surrounding furniture to get higher. She can hover pretty damn good for a little tyke.

Charlie: (scolding tone) Angel!

Angel: Tyke! Tiiiiieee-k. Not dyke, Toots.

Vaggie: (flies up to Perri and holds her hands under her belly) Come here, mija. You're about to give Mommy a heart attack.

Perri: (giggles impishly in a way that almost sounds like Lucifer's giggle when he calls Razzle and Dazzle) Mita! Mita! Hehehehehe~

Vaggie: (gently guides Perri to "fly" into Charlie's hands)

Charlie: Oh, thank goodness! (holds Perri tight) No more flying above the coffee table!

Angel: What the fuck is Mita?

Vaggie: (blushes and bristles)

Charlie: (blushing) U-umm.... Perri heard me call Vaggie "Mamacita" one night when I thought she was asleep. And ever since, she's called her Mita.

Angel: HA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Holy Shit!!! Vaggie's mom name is because you guys had sex with the little tyke in the room!!!

[codenamesazanka]

you know that post that's like "dads will casually drop the most horrifying lore of their lives suddenly in the middle of a conversation and never bring it up again"? That should be AFO.

*random mundane conversation about animals*

AFO: ...Ah, raccoons. I've always found them awful tasting. Of course, that was probably because my younger brother and I were eating the roadkilled ones that were left in the sun for hours. Rotted meat has the worst texture.

Ujiko, Tomura, Kurogiri:

[charmac]

[missatan]

From grace she will fall.

[mrsackermannx]

˚ ༘ *ೃ༄ ❝ COME BACK TO ME…❞

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: gojo’s been plotting to get you back ever since you broke up.

୨୧ word count: 4.7k

୨୧ content: gojo satoru/reader, smut, no-curses au/office au, infidelity, exes to lovers, afab reader, light angst (strategic marriage/ breakup mentions), praise kink, porn with plot, love confession, overstimulation, pet names (baby, sweetheart etc), creampie, pussy-slapping, squirting, sprinkle of degradation, slight exhibitionism.

୨୧ author’s note: gojo brainrot finally gave way to some writing hehe, still getting used to characterising him so feedback is appreciated angels <3

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"Don't shit where you eat," they say. They say that dating your colleague is never going to end well. However, even the most stoic people have a penchant for such relationships, not to mention the secret hopeless romantics. 

Workplace romances can make even affairs appear heartwarmingly wholesome. After all, there was something about trudging up stair after stair when the elevator was too full to them smiling at you just a desk away. Their voice fond as they offer you a sunny "Good morning."

That person who never forgets your favourite vending machine coffee, who pats your shoulder and tells you 'you're doing your best,' who lends you their umbrella, who opens up to you over a beer after overtime. Who notices when you get a haircut, whose eyes are seldom on their computer screen but on your lips. 

Not that you'd ever been unfaithful, not yet. But you'd heard countless stories. Girls talk, after all. You didn't judge, yet the point was although workplace romances could be wholesome and even sexually thrilling. They were sensational and exciting until they were over. 

Until that person no longer stays with you through overtime, bitter memories of you chugging vending machine coffee, swapping candy and chips together and then spit just like you and Gojo always did. You definitely never told anyone how many times you fucked on the desks of the colleagues you both thought sucked, especially not after you'd broken up.

You were together for a while, and although you couldn't say it out loud because it was still too painful, you missed him. A lot. In fact, you spent most nights, fist screwed up at your sides, eyes blurring in the darkness, questioning if there would always be that void he left that no one could ever fill.

Though, breaking up didn't cause the type of animosity that made people scurry from rooms when you interacted. Instead, it confused the hell out of your colleagues. It hadn't even been half a year since, and you and Gojo didn't appear to hate each other at all.

But the pain lingering in your heart ached and was annoying and inconvenient, like a stubbed toe that felt sore and tender for weeks and weeks—but in your case, months. However, Gojo was hardly being subtle with his efforts to ever so secretly win you back at every opportunity. He didn't mind playing the long game. He was going to be your last. 

All of you at the company came from important families in high social circles, marriage and dating. Love. It often came down to strategy, which was the only reason you were dating Miyano Haru, a Kyoto University graduate! CEO of a cybersecurity company! 

Guilt gripped at your gut as you yawned at the thought. 

Your families were shooting for a marriage ceremony during next year's cherry blossom season. But until then, Gojo wasn't slamming the brakes anytime soon. 

Whether that be surprising you with your favourite lunches, leaving tickets for movie screenings, galleries, or museums on your desk, or sending Google calendar invites to restaurant reservations or spa appointments via your work emails across the office floor. With sweet messages like,

Gojo Satoru has sent a "Spa day pamper package for two for this Friday.”

Surprise! You look tired this week baby. Let's go here Friday, yeah? 

Ps: You still look pretty, though. 

Just like you were still fucking dating. 

So today, when you're pitching a marketing idea in the monthly meeting, and Yaga cuts you off. Gojo cannot help himself. 

Yaga was a great man, someone Gojo was grateful to for many reasons, but fuck was this man old-fashioned and unaware of it. He refused to see your potential because he was eternally sceptical of the efficacy of women's ideas.

But you had the best ideas today. Gojo smiled because your ideas were always the best and that’s why this decision was so easy. He could fondly recall your rants about Yaga after every monthly meeting where you'd complain about his blatant misogyny; even Sukuna would let a reluctant chuckle loose to the show. 

All of you in the canteen at your table, Shoko, Utahime, Nobara and Maki at your side, growing passionate about gender pay gaps and audacious men at your company and then the world over. 

Nanami always said the right thing, and so did Higuruma, Yuuta and Choso. Gojo decidedly took the credit for Megumi being so eloquent and respectful. Inumaki was outrageous at times, and Yuuji was a lover of all people and argued fiercely for both sides. 

Those times were always fun. 

Yaga peered over his glasses, "Why don't you expand again on how you plan to execute this idea, Reader?” 

With one hand typing idly at his laptop and the other seating his chin, Gojo sighed so loudly all the eyes in the room cast to him. "Reader obviously has the best pitch for this project." 

He grinned as Yaga's knuckles grew white and he humphed before his voice sharpened, "So, are we really gonna make her explain it again?"

"For once, even I agree with him," Toji added.

Gojo winked as he looked up at you, and you felt yourself melt a little, even under the icy breeze of the conference room's AC. 

Megumi, Yuuji and Nobara huddled together under the oppressive communication Gojo and Yaga's eyes were engaging in. 

Gojo’s eyes narrowed, "So, what are you waiting for? Give her the project."

Nanami offered you a small smile and nodded before his expression soured, and he spoke before Yaga could open his mouth to protest. "I, for once, also agree with Gojo. I think we should open this pitch up for a vote?" 

Choso raised his arm, "Me too. I think it's just what we need, in fact." 

Maki nudged Yuuta and Inumaki before confidently booming, "I volunteer our assistance on the project!"

Albeit a little flustered, you bowed and thanked the room as Yaga reluctantly signed the dream project of the company to you. Sure, you were ecstatic you'd finally been recognised for your hard work and dedication, but you wanted to kill Gojo.

What didn't help was the aggressively obvious effect he had on you still. Sure, you had a new boyfriend, but Gojo didn't care. So that's why you found yourself lingering outside of his office door at 9pm because you knew he wouldn't care one bit. Like that man ever did overtime, you tsked. 

Gojo had been playing a game with you, knowing you'd finally relent, that you'd come to your senses and stop denying yourself of what you really fucking wanted. "Be selfish."

Everybody you'd asked today had told you he'd stayed in his office all day. So yeah, he really was doing this on purpose. His light was on, and he was baiting you, and you hated how easy it was for you to take it.

You knew he wanted you to barge in there, all flustered and mouthy, so he could shove you to your knees and fuck your throat open. 

Your boyfriend Miyano was sweet, he could talk about his feelings, and he didn't run away from emotional intimacy like others had. Like Gojo always had. But your family had set you up with him even though your shattered heart was still just that. Shattered. Your heart had been reduced to fragments— to a puzzle that only one genius could solve, he wasn’t prepared to give anybody guidance in the matter either. After all, geniuses couldn’t explain how to do the things they found easy. 

And although you were the one that ended things with Gojo, it hurt all the same. 

There was nothing wrong with Miyano per se. He came from a respectable family, one your family could bear you marrying into; though the Gojo clan would have been amazing, the Miyano clan wasn't terrible either. 

But you never wanted your family to arrange a relationship or marriage for you. You fell for Gojo instantly and hard. You loved him like you never loved anybody else. He thrilled you, challenged you, and made it seem like the world was too small for you both and that you could see it all when you stood at his side. He made everything and every day exciting but had the vexing ability to make you feel safe and at home all the same.

Gojo Satoru was irreplaceable in every facet of the word, in his work, friendships, and relationships. As fickle as he could appear, he was the first to call in a crisis and someone you could wholeheartedly depend on.

But Miyano was sweet and emotionally forthcoming but…entirely too normal. You didn't yearn to peel back his layers one by one and didn't care much for his childhood stories, unpopular opinions, or core principles. But you treasured the few times you’d sat with Gojo, pestering him to tell you anything deeper, anything that no one else knew. Watching with sparkling eyes as his voice grew so quiet you had to follow his lips until your eyes blurred instead. 

But it was rare he shared anything too personal with you. He had trouble with it more than most. Some nights, although you were sleeping in the same bed, you felt miles apart. 

Gojo had a wall with everybody else, like a layer of infinity that meant nobody could really touch him or delve deeper. They only saw and knew the surface that reflected back to them like a mirror. No one could truly ever get close. 

But it wasn't supposed to be the case for you, was it?

A fond and familiar laugh yanked you from your reverie, "Did you come to thank me? Because you can thank me by going to dinner with me tomorrow."

How was he larger than the door frame? You all but scowled as he leant down and tapped his cheek. "I also accept kisses as a form of repayment if you're willing," he said silkily, a jaunty grin on his lips at your expression. “With interest.” 

Your shoulders slumped, and you huffed, wilfully ignoring the growing heat ping-ponging between your bodies. "Why did you do it?" Your brows knotted, "I wanted to get it on my own, Satoru. And my pitch was strong enough. I didn't need your help."

He threw his hands up and yawned obnoxiously, smoothing the back of his hair down, "Well, what can I say? I'm a doer, not a talker."

You huffed, “No, I'm sure you're always talking."

"You got me there, but" he checked either side of the corridor before he looped his arm around your waist and yanked you into his office. “Game over.” 

"Satoru, I-" Your voice fell into a whimper as he flipped you against his door, his lips ghosting your earlobe as he caged you in. 

"Maybe it's because I know you like to hear my voice," he whispered. "I know you like being talked through it. And, I know you didn’t need my help, we just needed a little push.” 

We needed a final straw. 

You swallowed, fists clenched at your sides as his body suffocated yours. Heat quickly crawled up your cheeks as his large hands slid slowly down your sides, the familiar smell of his cologne igniting memories from the last times you smelt it so closely. Kissing down his throat, across his collarbones-

"What are you doing?" You finally mustered, your voice a breathless squeak. Seconds passed, and the tension blazed and kindled, refusing to be extinguished into silence. You didn't dare turn around to see him enjoying you like this.

"Nothing, nothing you don't want me to do," he said in a lilting voice, hitching the hem of your skirt up half an inch. "You've always been so vocal, so I doubt you'd lose your voice in a time like this, would you?"

"No," you hissed, curbing any further speech in case you fucking stammered.

"Don't worry though, baby. You're easy," he scoffed, "and you never stay quiet, not with me.” 

“Oh fuck you.” You gasped as he shoved his knee between your thighs to part them.

“Oh I will. But if that wimpy boyfriend of yours is doing his job, then I shouldn’t find your panties soaked in a minute, should I, princess?" 

A breath passed, and then he hitched it up a little further, resting his chin on your shoulder to taunt you more. "I see the way you look at me, baby. I know you and that look in your eyes. It tells me all I need to know, princess."

His hand caressed your quivering thighs, brushing your stomach and pausing at your chest. He gripped one breast before the other before it settled upon your throat, and he tipped your head back. 

His lips travelled down your temple, to your cheek, and to your neck, where he spoke, "Hm? Ignoring me isn't quite your style. Isn't that why you came here today?”

He kissed the corner of your mouth, and then you knew you were truly fucked. Watching as he pulled away with a grin spreading as slow and molten as melted chocolate. 

"I know you wanna kiss me," he whispered, blue eyes alight when you turned and showed him the blown-out lust glazing your eyes. "There we go, baby, that's it. Gonna kiss me?"

You nodded, already too far gone. His hand cupped the back of your head, and he met you halfway in a slow, sensual kiss. 

Your fronts drew together, and he shimmied up your skirt until it became a corset. Then he cupped your cunt, the pads of his fingers trailing feather light. Your vision hazed, and your fists curled tighter into his shirt. 

Your features were contorted beautifully with lust. "Do not tease me right now." 

He laughed as you scowled, his heart aching. He'd missed you so damn much.

"Oh? Want me to rub your pussy, baby?" he cooed, long fingers smearing the slick oozing through your panties.

"Now I know what you fucking came for,” he groaned breathily into your lips, waiting for your sign to continue. Your panties were the door, and his dumbing teasing movements were tentative little knocks. But he knew you liked to be stripped bare and fucked like you were his. This was just the final round of his game. 

You bucked your hips forward, needing more, needing him. You clung to him, tugging on his tie, "Satoru, Satoru, more, please," you whimpered through his kisses.

"I only satisfy what's mine, but you're not mine anymore, are you, sweet girl? So what can I do? Nothing."

You eagerly shook your head in protest, on your tip toes, just to drag your mouth down his jaw and neck. "Even though this needy pussy is leaking all over my fingers, responding to me like I own her," he tutted, "but I don't, do I? Pretty girl."

You made a noise half-whimper, half-growl, palming him through his pants until he hissed and then broke his feigned amusement from just how much you were riling him up. "I am yours, Satoru, always, always," you panted.

"I know that baby, but I need to know if she still is." He yanked your panties up so roughly the fabric strained against your clit and made you moan so lewdly you quickly covered your mouth.

"Needy girl," he said lowly before he drew his hand back and slapped your pussy. You moaned even louder, falling weakly into his chest. But you hardly fell far, as he grabbed your face in one hand and leant close.

"You like it when I slap your needy little pussy like this, baby?" His smile moved a millimetre as your eyes darted to his long, pretty fingers. "Want me to bury my fingers inside it till you come too? So you can stop being so needy?"

"Please, Satoru." 

"Then show me, show me how much you want them," he whispered, eyes shooting down between you both as he started to circle your clit, not daring to touch it. 

"Show me you're dying for it, and we can forget about all of this mess, can't we? You've just gotta show me who knows this pussy best.” The growing gravel in his voice turned the words into ragged commands.

In raptured submission, you yanked aside your panties and guided his fingers, back arching against the door as you ran them back and forth against your soaked cunt. Your breaths finally flew fluidly through the air, like his touch was what your body needed to convert the carbon dioxide. 

His jaw grew slack at the sight of you, getting yourself off on his fingers, clumsily rubbing your swollen clit against his fingertips, breaths huffing from your nose in the exertion. 

He leant into the beautiful image of you, moaning in your ear as your slick drowned his fingers. The slick wet sounds of your cunt as you run them back and forth, rapidly unravelling him.

"Look at me," he demanded, plunging two of his fingers knuckle deep until it squelched when you didn’t comply in seconds. You let out a humiliating whimper. The pleasure of the sudden yet sweet stretch danced through every nerve.  

He grinned, fucking his fingers inside, “You look so pretty like this, I should take a photo.”

"I can't…." You couldn't speak, not when his fingers were relentless inside like this, clenching and fluttering as he bullied that spot inside you.

But his name was a never-ending hot, sweaty mantra.

"Trying to give me scraps, huh? But you're mine," he spat. 

"No, I need you, Satoru. I need only you, only you," you babbled. 

The lustful look in your eyes catapulted him over the edge. He couldn't take it anymore, his palm granting sweet friction to your clit as he fucked you like the world was about to end. "I know you need it, baby. I've got you. I know.”

He tried to undo your buttons with his free hand but was too fucked out to do it, grunting for your help, so you did immediately. "Say the words, and I'll stretch this sweet pussy out with my cock after you come, baby.”

"I'm yours, please. Fuck me," you whimpered, your entire body shaking as pleasure climbed through your body, building until you felt the pressure about to burst. Your hands roamed his body, eager to feel him as you removed your own shirt.

But like an animal, he was all over you, kissing, licking, and biting as you squirmed close to your climax. His lips closed around your nipple, and your spine straightened at the softness until he bites it hard. 

You yelped, but he only laughed, "Hurts? Don't care, baby, it hurts seeing you with that loser, the number of times I've had to come in my fucking hand because of you."

The lewd sloshes of your pussy grew louder, and Gojo delighted in how you were now dripping onto the floor. So, he finally granted you mercy, pulsing his hand until you came in wild thrashing waves that rippled violently through your body. 

"Oh yeah? Did that feel good, pretty girl?" he whispered, tilting your chin to devour your breathless mouth. The press of his lips and the erotic flicks of his tongue were making you throb wildly on his fingers. "See, you do like it when I talk.”

He let out such an attractive laugh at your glare that you fluttered around him again. "Baby again? I'm not gonna leave this pussy just yet, let up, or I won't be able to get my cock inside," he hummed. "Isn't that what we both want?"

"Then do it. Put it in me." You spread yourself, and he bit back a moan. His eyes flickered at how you shook when his thumb brushed your clit experimentally. 

Your brows knitted at the lingering sensation, “Please, put it in me, now." 

"Oh baby, but if you keep squeezing like that." Gojo grew dizzy at how your pussy refused to let him go, helping you tug away his belt and zip down his pants. Hazy, as you let up enough for him to take his fingers out of your spasming cunt. 

"You really gonna let me fuck you right here, huh?" 

His eyes were half-lidded at the sight of you in your office heels, panties soaked and half-pulled down, shirt hanging limply and open, your skirt a thick black belt hugging your torso. 

You were a mess, his mess, his pretty mess.

"Oh baby, you're so beautiful." He knelt down, working down your panties with his breath uneven, kissing each knee as he worked them down each ankle and then tossed them behind him. 

"Shall I tell you something?" he mused, running his hands up and down your thighs as he kissed and licked at the slick threatening to stick them together.

"Yes, tell me." Your hands slid instinctively into his hair as he reached your pussy and kissed it.

"I'll be honest, yeah?"

He was waiting for a shaky, "Yeah?" so you granted him one laced through a whimper, so he suckled on your clit in return before speaking. 

“I can pamper you. Spoil you, fuck you, take care of you." His voice was almost hoarse, thick and affected by something other than lust—a different emotion.

"I know that Toru, I do."

"N' I can—love you, too," he murmured, voice so uncharacteristically small but soft like it used to be when he spoke to you at night.

You gasped. Gojo had never said those words, not once. "Satoru, I-" His tongue dove into your cunt, and you almost toppled forwards, but somehow in seconds, he was carrying you. Holding you close, you heard the unmistakable clatter of the desk's contents clatter to the floor as he pressed you down upon the cold surface.

His large arms locked your torso down, and he swiftly resumed tongue fucking your cunt, delving his fingers in and out. His heart was pounding with his confession and from your lack of reply. Though he knew he was fucking you so precisely and so perfectly that it was indeed impossible for you to respond.

Until you burst once more, hands tugging his hair, bucking your pussy into his face, greedy for not just more, but for him. For the actions to do more than the words you could barely manage, so overstimulated and so sensitive that you felt yourself heating up. But then, as your pleasure erupted, feeling your hot arousal coat your thighs, a garbled "I love you" ripped from your chest. 

Satoru froze for several seconds, and then it was as if someone found the remote and clicked play as he somehow tugged off his blazer and pants all at once. Ripping his boxers down just enough to grab the base of his cock. 

Peering down at you, hungry and lovesick. "Say it again." You giggled and tugged him down for a messy kiss, working off his shirt.

"I love you, Satoru, I love you. I've never been afraid to say it." Your body was still shaking from your blinding orgasm, and he loved every second of it. He loved that he was about to ruin you even more. 

His cheek brushed yours as he folded your body, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, "I love you," he whispered hotly into your ear, "I want you to feel like the luckiest woman in the world."

“I already do.”

“Yeah?” You moaned in tandem as he bucked his hips repeatedly, more of his cock easing in each time. Teasing you over and over, even though you were ready to take him, and he knew it. "Can you take me, baby?"

"Yes!" You whined, breath hitching as he tapped his cock against your cunt before he slammed in and filled you to the brim all at once. You both groaned, the sounds fading into seconds of soft relieved laughter. "Oh fuck, Toru, so good."

He moaned, voice shaky in your ear, "That's it, baby, you're so good. Take my cock. It's all yours. Take every single inch."

"Fuck Toru, you're so deep, too deep!"

"No, baby, feels good, doesn't it?" 

Before you knew it, he picked you up and slammed you against the glass overlooking the city. If you weren't on the top floor, you'd absolutely refuse. But Gojo always did like fucking you in front of Tokyo at night. 

"You can take it, baby, you can fucking take it, yeah? Cause you're made for me, so made for me," he panted.

"I can take it." 

"I know you can." He sucked and kissed on your neck, no doubt leaving his mark on you, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and took every slam of his hips. His stamina had always been otherworldly, never tiring, even as he fucked you standing up, hands sinking into the undersides of your thighs.

"Leave him," he moaned, not in the slightest asking. 

Luckily you didn't mind, as you tugged him closer and parted your lips, "I will, I promise." 

"Because you're mine, baby." His teeth were clenched, and he was groaning into your ear. Usually, Gojo could pace himself, but it had been so long, and you felt so good clinging to him like this, it was so close and so intimate. “I love you.”

So close, and so…

He blinked at the revelation that hit him like a freight train, he wasn’t going to run any longer. He liked the intimacy, he wanted to tell you all the stupid things you wanted to know now, he wanted to be close, he wanted you. He wanted to be everything you needed and wanted. 

"Are you gonna come?" Your voice was so sweet it gave him an instant sugar rush, "Come in me, baby, fill me, Satoru. Need your cum," you whimpered. “Want it?”

"Yeah? You fucking do, princess? Haah-" He pulled out and shoved your front against the glass. You moaned at the switch, and as he spread you apart before thrusting back in, his large hands engulfing each cheek. 

He lost it as you pushed your hips back on him, moaning and babbling, "Then let's have the entirety of Tokyo be a witness as I give my sweet girl what she fucking wants, huh?"

"Fuck, Satoru, feels too good! I'm close too!" you moaned, both of your bodies meeting in desperate sticky clashes of hips.

He whimpered, “We're gonna come together?" 

You were gonna send him over the edge tonight. 

"I’m so glad you came. Take me, take it, baby. Oh fuck.” His hands dug into your hips, making you take every single rope of his arousal. Lewd sounds tore from your throats at the sensation of him filling you deeply. After seconds of panting and melting into each other's arms, he still made no immediate moves to leave you.

He thrusted slowly to drive it deeper, "I'm not on birth control anymore," you squeaked. "But I'll take th-“

"Good. We're getting the family started just on time."

You giggled tiredly, "You're on board that fast?"

He squeezed you as he laughed himself, arms locked tight around your waist, "Do you wanna see the engagement ring in my desk or?"

"Satoru!" 

He twirled you around to face him, "I was gonna fly you somewhere and propose, but I suppose the cats out of the bag." He pouted and got on one knee, kissing your knuckles, "You'll marry me, won't ya? Think of this as a practice proposal, though!"

You sighed, "God, you're a fucking idiot." 

"Heh, heh." He opened his desk drawer and produced a small black box. 

“I wasn’t joking, actually,” he popped it open with a proud smile, "Shoko kind of helped me pick it, said it was-"

It was beautiful, everything you’d always envisioned but had never described to him or anybody else. 

A slow tear slid down your cheek, another racing beside it seconds later, “Aww! Are you that happy to marry me, sweetheart?"

"Go away! But…yes."

He put the ring on the desk and cupped your cheeks, "Yes, you're happy, or yes, you'll marry me?" he asked tentatively.

"Both!" 

"Yay!”

You were half-expecting people to jump out with confetti because Gojo was just that ridiculous sometimes, but instead, you heard shrill knocking and then Nanami's voice, absolutely exasperated. "Gojo! You knew I was working overtime today." 

He shrugged, grinning at you recoiling into his chest and half-expecting Nanami to barrel in, "Probably the most action you'll get all year!"

He stroked your cheek, full of adoration. 

But I got her back. 

He always did like grand gestures. 

©mrsackermannx: do not repost, plagiarise, translate or modify my works.

tagging: @afortoru @luvjiro @sixpennydame @4sat0ruu @fangirlings-world @romantichomicide95 @nkogneatho @p00pdev1l @utahimeow @hayakawasb1tch @yocoochbussin <3

[padawansuggest]

Anakin: I’m sorry, why am I the litterbox baby and why is Grogu the dumpster baby?

Obi-Wan: *points at Anakin* dessert-

Anakin: okay, fair.

Obi-Wan: *points at Grogu* found his egg in a dumpster.

Anakin: …excuse me?

Grogu: Patu! ‘Whateth the fucketh.’

Cody: *doesn’t have enough caff for this*

Rex: *doesn’t want to deal with it*

Ahsoka: *excited for storytime*

Obi-Wan: Yeah, some guy threw me in a dumpster, I found this huge ass egg in there, force said take this, I said Lunch! Force said No A Baby, I said :/ ew but I took him and here he is.

Grogu: Patu! ‘Wow’

Anakin: Wow. He literally is a dumpster baby. I thought you were gonna say he digs through trash cans or something.

Grogu: Patu! ‘I do not!’

Obi-Wan: He does. He goes sorta feral if he thinks you’re hiding something tasty, but I’m sure you already knew that much, considering you do too.

Ahsoka: One time, Grogu bit over a piece of raw nerf steak.

Obi-Wan: Give Anakin a few weeks. He’ll start fighting you for raw meat too.

[the-senates-one-fear]

The attachment between a star wars fan and their silly lil evil mass murderer

Here's mine add yours

[averagealienabductionenjoyer]

Always have a normal amount of feelings about the fact that Nervous has the family aspiration, wants a family, and Pascal's on his way to starting a new family when the game begins

[the-immortal-restless]

YALL ARE CRUEL

“THE WHAT?” I HEAR YOU ASK

[aalt-ctrl-del]

i hope everyone is ready for dumpster babies!

oh boy oh boy do I love dumpster babies. I have the police department on speed dial. WEEEEE!