caffine-exe

[caffine-exe]

gojo was going to cry.

and it was all because of his child. his baby. or what they had heard you say so really, it was because of you.

your baby was at the talking stage. they’d begin talking more just a few months ago— gojo bringing it up whenever he can (which was all the time) that your baby’s first word was dada. he cried when he heard it. and he was going to cry rn because your child won’t stop.

you had called him by his name. his last name. something you never say unless you’re trying to get through to him. that usually does it because he’ll look at you and go “you hate me.” and now it’s like your baby hates him because they’ve been saying gojo for the last few minutes.

“I’m not gojo. I’m dada to you.”

“go-jo.” your hand was over your mouth trying to keep yourself from encouraging the child, who was trying to enunciate the name— clearly enjoying themselves and the reaction they were getting from their parents.

“no. no, no- I’m dada.” gojo was on his knees in front of you.

you nosed your baby’s cheek from where they were sitting on your lap. “is that daddy?” you asked softly. your child, who looked exactly like the man in front of you, stared up at you. the audacity for them to not only come out looking like their father— when you carried them for months— but to also inherit his eyes. "who's dada?" you asked again.

your child looked to saturo, finger sticking up to him. "that's right, that's dada." saturo held his arms out to lift them from your lap.

"I'm dada." your child nuzzled their head into his neck before lifting their head up to stare into his blue eyes with their very own.

"go-jo!" you cracked at your child's exclamation.

"nooooo."

gojo was going to cry.

—

[caffine-exe]

”Oh but Sho, you should’ve seen his eyes…they were so full of wander…curiosity…longing…” you twirl in your flowing nightgown, catching your dream like swirl amongst the the thick mahogany post of your bed.

“A daze so full of yearning and allure...as though they…resonated the sparkling stars that dresses the night sky…with a tint of a beautiful hue of smooth violet…so dangerously captivating…” you sigh softly, holding onto the wooden beam of your beds post.

“Damn, this man really sounds like he’s got you good, has he bed you that well?” Your friend provokes with a gleaming grin, your face swells with immense heat as you chuck a pillow at her. The both of you sharing a cackle. Your eyes ponder out the open view of your balcony that overlooks the peaceful sea. Wondering what your mysterious, charmingly siren friend was doing in the midst of the night.

[caffine-exe]

song on loop 24/7

rereading the same fanfic while waiting for an update

replaying the same fantasy every night and not getting bored

[caffine-exe]

I want to be encased in a beautiful, bioluminescent cave (one that is built of gorgeous glowing purple and blue crystals that are molded into the boulders that structures the actual cave itself) completely soaked from almost drowning in an angry, thrashing sea storm. Saved by an inquisitive dark haired siren, who tends to my wounded ankle that had gotten stuck in rough corals from my struggles of being viciously swallowed by relentless waves and currents.

Pulls me to the small sandy shore of the cave, carefully brushing the sticking, drenched strands of my damped hair from my face. Tending me back to consciousness. And makes sure that I am ok, weighing me out from the violent storm clashing amongst the ruthless waves from beyond the caves vicinity. Makes small gestures to me, letting me know that I'm safe and should take some time to recover.

And he just lightly traces the pad of his scaled finger down the lush of my cool, plush cheek. Tentative eyes never wavering from mine.

[caffine-exe]

WHY WONT- THE FUCKIN SCREEN- LET ME IN

A bond everlasting

[caffine-exe]

face card so hard and body so tea even the british want it

[caffine-exe]

[caffine-exe]

Had a dream of him last night now I got the biggest crush on him 😔✋

[caffine-exe]

Part 2 of the series had to include this gorgeous man

[caffine-exe]

satoru. g | jealous of a kitten

“You love him more than me.”

You glance up from the bed, blinking at Satoru, who’s standing in the doorway with his arms crossed like he’s confronting a cheating spouse. On your chest, Satoru Jr. purrs contentedly, a little white marshmallow curled against your heart. His little tail flicks once, all too smug for that tiny body.

“You're the one who literally bought him for me.” You remind him.

“Yeah, well. I thought he’d be cute. I didn’t think he’d replace me.”

You stifle a laugh as Jr. nuzzles under your chin, warm and weightless. His purring gets louder. You coo and scratch behind his ears.

Satoru storms over like a man scorned, dramatic steps heavy with betrayal. He flops down beside you with a huff, then leans in close. “Hey,” he says, voice low and enticing. “Wanna pet something tall and handsome instead?”

You don’t even look at him. “Shh, you’ll wake him.”

He stares at you. Stares at the kitten. Back to you. The audacity.

“I’m the original.” He utters, nose wrinkling in offence. “He’s just some cheap knockoff with zero rizz.”

You glance at him, finally amused. “You named him after yourself, so you can't call him a knockoff now.”

“That was before I knew he’d seduce you with his baby meows and his fluffy paws.” He sulks, visibly offended as Jr. starts licking your finger. “Look at him. He’s flaunting it.”

You giggle. And that’s when Satoru goes deadpan, eyes locked on you. He clears his throat-

“Meow.”

You blink. The kitten blinks. Satoru leans in closer, louder this time.

“Meow. Pet me.”

You burst into laughter, almost dislodging Jr, who gives a sleepy chirp in protest.

“Oh my god.” You wheeze. “You’re jealous of a literal kitten.”

“I’m jealous for your attention.” He pouts, resting his head on your shoulder with a theatrical sigh. “You never scratch my chin and call me a sweet baby angel.”

Jr. lets out a soft little mrrrp, annoyed, and bats at Satoru’s face with one paw.

Satoru recoils like he’s been slapped. “He has no respect for his elders.”

[caffine-exe]

psa. if we’re mutuals, we’re automatically friends. u don’t need to say things like “sorry to bother” or “sorry im annoying” bc ur not. ur my friend. u can come to me for anything. u need help? im here. wanna chat? hmu. just wanna gush abt your muse? go for it. we’re friends. ily.

[caffine-exe]

late night adventures ❀˖°

satoru really wants fries, suguru really wants sleep

warnings: none!

a/n: this is mostly a test to play around w/ their dynamics... lmk what you think!

[caffine-exe]

need the "fym nuh uh" to my "nuh uh"

[caffine-exe]

I CANT BE THE ONLY ONE THAT SEES THIS AS A POTENTIAL CROSS OVER 😭

PLSPLSPLEASEEE SOMEONE MAKE THIS A REALIITY I NEED THEM ALL

[caffine-exe]

Can I request dating hcs with baby Saja?

★Dating Baby Saja★

A/N: "Gugu Gaga" WRITE THAT DOWN❗❗🗣️🗣️ THIS BOY SPITTIN. Tyyy for the request!!

Warnings: nonee

Fluff☁💫

Baby Saja X Reader!!

☆I just know this dude is playful. And like in a "I'll prank you if you don't watch out" way

☆Absolute menace

☆He'll hide your stuff (phone, keys etc) and when you ask he's all like "I dunno, check under the sofa" with the most devilish grin on his face when you can't find shii

☆Besides being a prankster, he's really sweet to you especially. The type to cling on to your side when cuddling

☆Sends you pictures of animals like "That's literally us"

☆He loves when you kiss his cheeks even though he'd never say it out loud

☆Nicknames he'd call you: Gummy bear, sweetie, cutie

☆Don't let that adorable face trick you

☆This man is flirty. But not in your face flirty. He does subtle things. Like staring into your soul until you acknowledge him or simply just smiling knowingly. Teasing you in a way that only catches later

☆He's literally always touching you. Like in a childish way. Poking you playfully. Pulling your cheeks. He thinks you're the cutest person ever

☆LOVES sharing rap verses with you and getting your opinion

☆He's over the moon when you compliment his abilities. He was usually all confident to impress you

☆He likes going out for food. I hc him as a huge foodie y'all. Always eating something 💔 He shares his food with you though. Probably the only person he does that with

☆Or simply buys you food randomly 😭

☆Takes any nickname you give him with pride. Even if it's the dumbest thing on the planet

☆Overall, rlly cheeky but a sweetheart

☆Even when you're dead serious about something, he'll respond with a sarcastic remark or joke

"Baby, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 are my damn keys! "

"Probably half way across the Pacific Ocean"

"I hate you"

☆You never really know if he's playing with you or not. Most of the time he sounds dead serious with the stuff that comes out of his mouth

☆He follows you around like a lost puppy

☆listening to you talk about whatever is bothering you (ready to destroy whatever or whoever that is)

☆Ten outta Ten boyfriend. Goofy asf tho<3

[caffine-exe]

[caffine-exe]

suguru. g loves to take care of his hair. and he loves taking care of yours as if it was his own

The bathwater’s gone lukewarm by now, but you’re too drowsy to care, your back resting against the broad, bare warmth of Suguru’s chest. His knees are bent by your hips, legs stretched on either side of yours, anchoring you in the water like a cradle. You sigh as his fingers part your hair again, slow and deliberate.

“Lean back a little.” He murmurs, voice soft and low by your ear.

You obey, and he tilts your head gently with one hand while the other cups water, pouring it over your crown. It trickles down in warm rivulets, trailing your temples and ears, dripping from your chin back into the tub. His fingers follow, combing through soaked strands like he’s sculpting something precious. No rush. No roughness. Just patience, reverence.

The scent of his shampoo lingers in the air, faintly floral and familiar now because it lingers on your pillow, too. He rubs the lather in with careful circles, massaging your scalp like it’s an art form, thumbs pressing just right, knuckles never tugging.

“I read somewhere that you’re supposed to work the roots, not the ends.” He says absently, and you can feel him smiling against the back of your head. “If you scrub the ends, you just dry them out. They’re delicate. You gotta treat them like silk.”

“Mmm.” You hum, eyes closed. “You treat my hair better than I do.”

“Obviously.” He snorts, but he kisses your temple right after.

When he rinses the suds, he cups your forehead to keep the water out of your eyes. Every movement is unhurried. He doesn’t speak much while he does this, but he doesn’t need to. It’s all there in his touch: the way his nails skim your scalp like whispers, how he runs his fingers through each strand to make sure it’s smooth and tangle-free before he conditions it.

You’ve never seen him carelessly do anything with his hair. And now, with yours, he treats it like an extension of his own pride. Like it’s sacred. Like you are.

“You always take this long?” You murmur, lazily opening one eye.

He leans down, his nose brushing your wet shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m not doing the whole routine. I usually mask, oil, and steam too.”

You laugh, but you already know you’d let him. You’d sit between his knees in every bath for the rest of your life if he let you.

And the way his arms curl loosely around your waist, holding you there like you belong, maybe he would.