#oh man i love him so much

[ackermonie]

i think that as we grow up, there’s always this little child that still comes out to play once it feels safe enough to.

the more satoru makes you feel safe around him, the more this child comes out to play, and he cannot be happier. even though it could backfire on him in the sweetest, most frustrating ways possible.

it can either build up over the week or a single day of satoru not giving you the attention you’re used to from him. he’d notice you getting quieter, retreating from making the first moves. he’d say that it sometimes makes you feel insecure even, but he’s never done that on purpose.

if anything, him making it up to you afterward is usually rather enjoyable for him.

this time, he’s been busy for a few days, only able to throw in mid-day texts and good-night forehead kisses, so you begin to retreat back into your shell. you stop texting him back right away, no double texting when he gets too busy to reply, turning your head away when he tries to kiss you good night, until the weekend finally comes.

it was friday night. work in jujutsu high ends early and both you and the students get the luxury of a couple more hours of freedom, but gojo was nowhere to be found all morning.

your sour mood could be easily detected by the first-years, rendering them just a bit more careful with you for the day, which could be a reason why they were done with their training sessions a bit earlier than usual today.

back home, you convince yourself that you’re unbothered. you light up a few candles, slip in the bath, and pour your favorite shower gel all over, letting the warm water carry the tension off of your back for a bit.

"i don't care," you repeat like a mantra as you put on nice pjs. anything can be happening, right? you shouldn't be bothered this much when he doesn't prioritize you. you knew what you were signing up for when your heart started to beat a little differently around him.

he's gojo satoru, for heaven's sake. with a status and a name like his in such a world, you most definitely were never going to be a priority.

the sun sets and there is still no sign of satoru, so you grab yourself a snack to try to fill the emptiness he is leaving. it could be pms, or you’re just looking a bit too much into it, but your eyes start tearing up at some point. you throw yourself on the empty sofa with something playing on the tv to distract you, but that’s when you hear the click of the lock.

even though it’s still late, this is the earliest he’s been home all week.

"i'm hhooommmee," the sing-a-song tone rings in the house. despite the way your stomach crunches at the sound of his voice, a roll of your still-teary eyes is uncontrollable. you can hear him move in the house until he spots you, and his footsteps accelerate until he jumps over the back of the sofa to settle in his normal position by your side. an arm immediately pulls you to him. "there she is!!"

"mmm," your smile is tight-lipped and barely reaches your eyes. you keep your attention on the tv, suddenly seeming to be much more interesting than your boyfriend.

now, satoru knew this is happening, and the man never shows up to a fight unprepared.

“what are you watching?” the lights turn off without either of you moving a muscle, leaving the light from the tv as your only guide into the darkness. he takes off his glasses, focusing on the tv for a few seconds. “new girl? again? what are we? 20?”

“i don’t have anything else to offer, i’m afraid.”

his head dips to your neck. the tall man takes some rather big, dramatic whiffs as he squeezes you even closer, pulling yet another eye roll out of you.

however, those eye-rolls seem to always come as a package deal with something twisting girlishly in your stomach.

“you smell so nice, baby, what the hell.” you feel his nose press against your neck almost obnoxiously.

“mhmm,” you let out, trying to pull away just a bit until he straightens again, a bright smirk on his very, very kissable lips.

“you took a bath without me?”

“that’s what one does when they get back from work to find the house empty again, yes.”

“did you eat?”

you say nothing, but your grumpy gaze snaps to his, and you wish you can just slap that victorious smile off of his face. “no.”

“i figured,” his hands slip to your waist, and in one swift move, you are facing him on his lap, knees on each side of his hips. “so, an early day at work, no food, and no boyfriend? you must’ve had the worst day ever.”

you’re not aware of the way your lips pout grumpily. you just frown at him and cross your arms over your chest with a roll of your eyes. “it went fine.”

“did it, now?”

“yes. very.”

“what’s this pout for, then?”

you glare at him. intensely, ardently, you just stare daggers into his head, and the man has the audacity to giggle at your reaction. his hands slip to cup your cheeks before he squeezes them together, making your lips pucker grumpily, then he kisses the pout away in a very obnoxious, loud, messy manner.

“you missed me, didn’t you?” he rocks your face gently, using a baby voice that makes you slap his hands away immediately.

“no.”

"oh you so did. you so did." he only stops rocking your face when you slap his hand away, a gesture at which he giggles lovingly. "I missed you too." he wraps his arms around your waist, leaning his head back against the couch so he can look up at you. "very much so."

"ah yes, yes, of course," you cage his head to the couch, frowning down at him. "what else? you didn't mean to act like you forgot I existed all week?"

"oh, how could i?" he tilts his head to the side. the blissful look on his face as he looks up at you, soft ocean-colored eyes and all, is putting you in a very weak position in this argument. "I can deadass write a 100k word essay about every thought I've had about you this past week alone."

you try to get off his lap, but steel grips are on your waist, pulling you flush back to him. his hand slips under your shirt, the cold skin sending shivers down your back.

"come on, baby. you know i'm sorry." his tone turns a bit serious, and your grumpiness begins to subside. "with yuji and sukuna's fingers, I can barely have enough time to even piss." he reaches up and brushes a strand of your hair out of your face. "i'd rather drop dead than forget you existed."

"ugh," you roll your eyes, turning your head away only to have it adjusted back by a gentle hand to gaze down at him.

"i missed you so much, baby," he leans closer, eyes turning softer by the second as he brings you in by your cheek, one that's literally burning under his touch. after all those years of being together, gojo satoru is still very capable of turning you into putty in his hands.

"i think i missed you more," you mumble, eyes planted droopily on his lips in the dark room. newgirl is still playing in the background. your body relaxes into his, and arms wrap lovingly around his neck. "I was literally about to start crying right before you stepped through that door."

he kisses you briefly, but it's interrupted by a fit of endeared chuckles. "oh no, baby," he holds your face in his hands as he laughs, and you try to push at his chest to get away to no avail. "I'm so sorry," he continues on shamelessly, making you lean your forehead on his. "I promise I'm gonna try to do better."

"shut up," you hit his chest. "don't do that. work is still important. that was selfish of me."

"never more important than you are," he swipes your hair from your face again, pushing it behind your shoulder. "besides, I already did what I wanted to do with the fingers in my possession. so until further notice, I'm all yours."

you lean down, giving him a proper kiss this time, one in which you both sigh in relief. god, you missed the way he tastes.

"good. we have a lot of rotting in bed to catch up on."

==================================

more?

[egophiliac]

we were fucking ROBBED

[kelin-is-writing]

The butterflies in my stomach going CRRRAZZY over him…

[hooned]

dearest darling, my universe ♡

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hello Madam. Sorry Madam.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[willowser]

i really think having an emotional connection is so important to bakugou sexually.

like, i think he has to be in the exact right mood in order to get off by himself at home alone. can't be too tired, can't be too stressed out, can't have too much on his mind regarding work or other things, and even if it's been a while and his body is sensitive and wanting for it—if his head is not right, he can sit there for hours and never reach his peak.

which is why i think ultimately he doesn't do it that often, because it pisses him off to waste the time and not find the release. makes him more agitated. i think porn for the most part doesn't help him because he's too picky, literature probably helps a bit more, but he's still picky, and his imagination can get him there, but his headspace has to be right.

i think he's slow to hands-on stuff, when your relationship starts, and you can tell he's going to be like that pretty quickly. he responds to your touch like it's an accident; you reach out to hold his hand and he pulls his back like your knuckles have knocked by chance, like you're too close. it's not meant to be a rejection of any kind, it's just—he doesn't want you to touch him if you don't want to. if you don't mean to.

but when he realizes that you mean to, that you want to—

it has him skyrocketing. surprises him terribly, the affect you have on his body, and how quickly, because not even he can always have that affect on his own body.

you reach up to push some hair out of his face and your fingers skirt his cheekbone and he feels like a stupid gross disgusting puddle of mush. you loop your arm through his and lean into him while you're walking and he feels like a prize, like he's yours and you're his and you want everybody to know and that gives him a rush of pride that makes his head woozy.

he's dropping you off at home after date number he-doesn't-know and you're staring up at him outside your front door and he knows he should kiss you so he does and his whole body lights up with a heat he doesn't recognize at all. just from that.

and then he finally gets it: that heart-aching, stomach turning, body shaking want he's only ever heard about, and now finally feels.

[buttdumplin]

going to look at houses with one of the boys because yall need a bigger one with more rooms now that ale and rudy have officially joined the polycule and the agent is really working the kids angle for "you and your... husband?" and ofc it's johnny who goes with you and he's feeding into it by only referring to them as "the boys" that by the time you've settled on a house and you get the agent to do one last viewing so they can all come see, her head fucking explodes first when she sees "the boys" and again after they all take their turns giving you and johnny your initial smooches, and the smile on johnny's face tells you this couldn't have played out as perfectly even in his dreams

[figloom]

"Ughhh, I'm too pretty to be doing math Azul... You there, come here~✨️🦀"

The glamorous mascot of Mostro Lounge. What he lacks in brain, he makes up with with his looks (driving Azul insane in the process, however he can pay him in exposure so it's not that bad). He may not serve drinks but you best believe he'll serve cunt🦇

[lvngdnxgallifrey]

Seems Kaeya’s vision has 3 wings on each side now and is a combination of Mondstadtian vision and Khaenri’ah’s 8-pointed star. Except instead of two points there are wings on the bottom part. I’m very normal about it

[starry-bi-sky]

Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au

"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"

Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.

He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.

It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.

Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.

It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.

Because it really only meant one thing.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.

Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.

Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.

This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?

It would be a firestorm.

One that Vlad is not keen on starting.

It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.

It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.

His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.

"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.

Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.

He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.

The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.

He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.

"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.

Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.

But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.

Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.

"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."

Bastard.

For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.

But, well.

They all have their dark secrets.

And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.

"I see."

[ringosmistress]

[turtleblogatlast]

I will never be over Leo’s 4D chess play in “Many Unhappy Returns”. Like, just in general it is a spectacle to see this character who we’ve seen goofing around time and time again, who’s only sometimes decided to take things seriously, only to show him making a maneuver like that.

And here’s what gets me the most about his plan against Big Mama: he comes up with it on the spot. The second he sees that Big Mama has the solution they need, he’s already in game mode.

It is so satisfying watching the episode back when you realize his plan, because he literally sets the stage entirely for a decisive victory. He sees that the champion is a kraken, and comes up with both the solution to defeating it and a reasonable excuse to get that solution into the battle with them on the fly:

“Like your champ aaand those six guys. In fact, we don’t want this over too quickly. You should armor up those rookies. The whole shebang. Especially with these pointy helmets.”

And this is why giving him teleportation powers is perfect, too. He analyzes the battlefield and makes use of all the assets, moving pieces around to guarantee a win. It is honestly so impressive to witness and one of my favorite parts of his character.

[egophiliac]

new chapter 7 installment dropped how we feelin????

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

THAT'S HIS DAD

[azuries]

close call!

[b4kuch1n]

polymer broadcast signal hijack

[hualianschild]

falling for all the loser in love characters in a show/book that try to come off as cool and indifferent is so fun cuz their future partner be doing weird shit and embarrassing themselves and you'll be silently screaming and hiding your face cuz of the second hand embarrassment but then you realize this fool with heart eyes is definitely squealing like they got a high school crush and hypothetically kicking their legs and punching the air over that and that helps you calm down