ccamil1e

[ccamil1e]

soo cute i love dadjo 🥹

| your daughter not recognising satoru after he cut his hair !!

you didn’t expect him to actually do it.

he’d been threatening to for weeks, though. “it’s too hot,” he’d whine, flopping onto the couch, long white strands falling into his mouth. or “i’m basically shedding,” while brushing out his ends with your comb. always followed by: “i’m cutting it all off, you won’t even recognize me.”

you always hum, unconvinced. “you’d never survive the heartbreak.”

turns out, you were right—just not your heartbreak.

it starts the second he walks through the front door. he’s grinning, proud of himself, sunglasses still pushed up into his now much shorter hair. you don’t even get the chance to greet him because your daughter—the sweet little toddler that she is—just stares.

like he’s an intruder.

“…hi,” he says, smile twitching a little.

her tiny brows scrunch up.

then she points. “mommy? who’s that.”

you blink. look at gojo. look back at her.

“baby,” you start gently, already smiling, “that’s daddy.”

her nose scrunches. “nuh uh.”

gojo’s voice jumps an octave “excuse me?”

your daughter doesn’t even flinch. she hugs your leg tighter and mumbles, “you’re not daddy. he’s pretty.”

gojo blinks. “…i’m pretty though.”

“no you’re weird,” she says matter-of-factly. then she looks up at you like she’s concerned. “who is this man?”

you try to hold it in, but it bubbles up in a laugh, your hand flying to cover your mouth. gojo shoots you a look—devastated, betrayed, offended.

“you’re laughing at my pain,” he accuses.

“you look like you’re about to cry.”

“because my own daughter called me ugly, sweets.”

“no she said weird.”

“that’s worse!”

you shrug, trying to stay calm while your daughter peeks around your leg again, eyes narrowed. “maybe you should’ve waited until after bedtime to go and get an identity crisis.”

he glares. “this is discrimination against people with good bone structure.”

“you cut your hair, satoru. not your jawline.”

“she doesn’t care about my jawline,” he whines. “she liked the fluff. she used to call me cotton candy.”

“okay, well. she also tried to lick your head once.”

“it was endearing!”

you’re giggling again when he crouches down to her height, eyes soft now, voice quiet.

“hey,” he says. “i know i look different, but it’s still me. promise.”

she stares at him. considers. then lifts one small hand and gently pats the top of his head.

“…you feel like a hedgehog.”

you bite your lip to keep from laughing out loud.

gojo groans. “i shaved off my parental rights, didn’t i.”

but she’s still standing there, little hand still petting him. her frown has softened into something closer to curiosity now.

“you talk like daddy,” she says.

“yeah?”

“and you smell like daddy.”

“that’s…. weird—”

“…maybe you are daddy.”

“thank you!”

she sighs, like she’s doing the world’s heaviest emotional labor, and then opens her chubby arms for him to pick her up. gojo does immediately, practically cradling her like she’s been lost at sea.

“daddy,” she whispers seriously, “next time ask mama first.”

“yes ma’am,” he breathes, resting his cheek against her head like he’s just been forgiven by god himself.

you roll your eyes with a grin as he mouths ‘she loves me again!!’ over her head.

—

taglist - @whorishminds @besidesjustmyamour @throatgoatgeto

[ccamil1e]

clingy rowan in the morning ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

just fluff, set after koa

crossposted on my ao3

aelin lay trapped in rowan’s warm arms, her chest flat against his. quietly stirring, aelin rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and gently angled her head to peek at her husband’s stunning and peaceful face, careful not to wake him up. basking in the utter peace of the moment, aelin made sure to take in every part of it, memorize it all: the planes of rowan's face, his straight nose, his messy silver hair, his enviously long lashes; as she’d done millions of morning before, eternally thankful for the chance to do so after surviving the war. after growing tired of being trapped, eelin made a stealth attempt to wriggle out his hold, she had been an assassin after all. for the only result to be rowan’s tightening grip around her waist, and a low groan escaping both of their lips.

returning to her original position in his arms, aelin craned her neck to reach his pointed ear. “buzzard,” she whispered. another groan. “ro, i need to get ready, despite how much i love watching you sleep, i still have things to do, queenly duties and all.”

now fully awake with his eyes still closed, rowan tightened his grip around his queen, tangling his legs with her’s to ensure that an escape was near impossible. “no.”

aelin chuckled, only to change her position again so that her could reach the sharp planes of his face, peppering kisses all over. then to the line of his jaw, further down to his neck, canines grazing over past marks only to elicit yet another noise from rowan’s mouth.

“fireheart, do you really want to get up?” rowan grumbled, opening his pine green eyes to look down at his wife curled around him.

“no,” aelin replied with a sly grin, “but unfortunately i really have to, gods know what types of choices aedion might make without me if i don’t grace them with my appearance.”

“but what about the king of terrasen? gods know what i will do without my fireheart if she doesn’t stay with her utterly beautiful, quite muscular, 7 foot tall, fae warrior in bed.” rowan shot back with a smirk, running a hand along aelin’s bare torso. In response, aelin cupped rowan’s face in her scarred but delicate hands, forcing him to look down at her, piercing turquoise eyes lined with gold, meeting those of pine green.

“i think you and your territorial fae bullshit can hold on, while i go partake in two meetings, only two, and then i can make it up to you.” aelin said, as she placed a kiss on the bridge of rowan’s nose. catching rowan surprisingly unaware as he brought his hands to thread through her hair, aelin was free of his grasp and was able to slink out of bed, undoubtedly ungracefully, but still allowing her to accomplish her goal.

rowan’s face was painted with disbelief and betrayal as he watched his wife escape from the sheets and run her bare body to the bathing room, a gentle laugh escaped her lips along the way. rowan only glimpsed aelin turn around to flash a signature smirk before dashing behind the double doors.