#cw families

[strawberrystepmom]

cw children, cw families. gojo and f!reader were idiots in love and they are now married and have a baby. my effortlessly good painter gojo hc won out over being normal in my brain today so yeah. reader is referred to as mom/mama/mother and princess, satoru makes a joke about readers breasts. wc 1.1k

Your morning has started far quieter than they usually do.

The day is overcast, no sunshine through your floor to ceiling bedroom windows, but you don’t mind. It feels good to embrace the cloudy days that have come with the changing of seasons, no harsh light to shock you awake. That job will be for your identical menaces in the coming months, the gummy smile of your morning person nine month old and her unabashedly obsessed father Satoru always eager to be your twin alarm clocks with their giggling and playful babbling at each other.

There’s nothing they love more than giving you the gift of four identical blue eyes blinking at you while you come to your senses every morning. You can almost admit aloud that you’ve become a morning person since becoming a parent, the delightful giggles of your daughter giving you the motivation to conquer anything and everything you can.

For today though, you wake gently, softly rolling from your side to flat on your back but something feels off. There are no hushed giggles, no silly songs being recited with children’s show host precision.

Your bed is empty and quiet and you feel…sad. Perhaps in the past you would’ve found this to be a luxury - no freakishly long limbs of your husband starfished across the bed to keep you pinned to it, no baby to tug at the earrings you forgot to take out last night, but instead it just feels like a less welcome start to the day.

Lingering in bed doesn’t feel good so you roll again, dropping your legs over the edge and sliding your feet into your waiting slippers. Scuffing across the floor, you yawn and stop in your tracks hearing voices from inside Satoru’s closet.

Well, a voice and some baby giggles, anyway.

“Can you say mama?”

Leaning against the door frame of the walk in, you stifle a laugh listening to your husband babble at his little girl who babbles back excitedly. Peeking around the corner, you see him standing in front of the portrait of you that he painted on your 24th birthday, little babe held to his chest and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“That’s her, that’s right. Your perfect mom.”

He sighs and your heart squeezes watching the two of them sway side to side, your baby who is growing into an independent toddler every day reaching out as if she recognizes your face. You’re sure she does, actually; the painting is an impeccable likeness and it still frustrates you 6 years later that he managed to become so good at a craft you’ve spent your life working on in less than a month.

Someday you’ll tell her the entire story, your version of it anyway. For now you’re content to let her father tell his side considering it was one of the most grand and romantic gestures he had performed at the time in an effort to show you how serious he was about your relationship.

“Listen, little girl,” he starts, unknowing that he has captured both of your attention. “I know I’m going to have to tell you this again eventually but do not ever bring a man or woman or anyone else into this house that loves you less than I love your mother.”

She coos at the sound of his voice and he chuckles down at her, kissing the downy white hair atop her head.

“I mean it. If they won’t stay up for four nights straight to get a start on painting your nose from memory, leave ‘em behind.”

With this, you giggle and the attention of both of your menaces is captured. Your daughter squeals from over Satoru’s shoulder, holding one little hand out and making a grabbing motion and he copies her excited babbling with his own.

“My little tricksters snuck out of bed this morning!”

Grinning, you cradle your little girl against your chest and kiss her temple, inhaling the clean smell of her shampoo and skin. She’s been bathed and everything.

“You’re the best.”

You feel the need to remind Satoru at this moment and he grins, bending to give you a good morning kiss.

“Duh.”

Giggling, you let your wiggly daughter settle herself and the three of you stand in front of the painting. You recognize the younger woman permanently captured in it, the soft lovesick look in her eyes, and it amuses you to know he took extra time to capture you exactly like that. Hopelessly in love.

He could capture you using the same medium and you’d look identical to how you did back then - utterly stricken.

“Did you really stay up practicing for four nights?”

“Princess, I stayed up practicing for four weeks.”

You snort, looking up at him from the corner of your eye.

“There’s no need to embellish now, you’ve already won me over.”

He shrugs, pulling the two of you close to his chest. He leans over his little family, cheek resting against the top of your head.

“But what if I never want to stop winning you?”

You reach up and brush his hair off of his forehead affectionately. Every touch you give him is full of love and every glance carries tenderness.

There will come a time when your daughter will be old enough to gawk at the love the two of you have for one another. Maybe she’ll stick her tongue out and roll her eyes just as you remember her father doing more than once or perhaps she’ll simply smile and hide her face in the collar of her shirt, dreaming of a love like what’s in front of her someday.

“I mean, I could paint you again. You are coming up on the big three oh and I have to say that a few things have grown since back then if you know what I mean.”

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and drops his voice suggestively low. You flick him on the forehead and laugh about it, your daughter joining in on your giggles as a nine month old is apt to do.

The thing you hope she’ll understand the most is that sometimes love isn’t just big paintings and grand gestures and sweet looks. It’s being grounded enough to give each other a hard time when things are good and a good time when things are hard.

You are fortunate enough to have the best of everything with her father.

“Let’s go make breakfast, Monet.”

You turn on your heel and your husband follows closely behind, small steps to match your own. He looks over his shoulder one final time to look at the painting of you on his closet wall and he smiles, soft and warm.

“Whatever you say, my muse.”

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship content. married with named children. fluff.

Izuku has been pacing around the kitchen for the past five minutes, and you, devilish as you are, are pretending not to notice, content with your late night snack of hot chocolate and lightly buttered bread.

The kids are all asleep, or at the very least turned in for the night, and things have been overall peaceful in the Midoriya household for the past few days, so whatever has your husband in distress is unlikely to be that bad. Additionally, he has an expression he makes when the situation is more embarrassing than dire, and that's written all over his face at the moment.

You bite into a particularly crunchy part of the bread and the sound appears to echo - Izuku looks at you and you return his gaze with your mouth full, blinking innocently, then burst out laughing when he frowns.

"Fine, I'll bite. What's wrong, baby?" you ask.

Izuku stops pacing then stands still facing you, one arm crossed over his chest and his other hand balled into a fist under his chin.

"Did you know Izumi had a crush on..." his voice was already hushed, but now it falls into a barely audible whisper, "... Ami?"

You blink. That's all? you wonder.

"Well, yeah..." you reply. "He's uh... been like that since he was 8?"

"What?!"

Izuku looks betrayed for a moment, then moves over to you quickly, pulling out a chair to plop down on.

"Okay, but his sketchbook is literally filled with portraits of just her!"

You drink the last of your hot cocoa, then smile at him, resting your hand on his wrist posed on the table.

"Sounds like his dad."

Izuku turns pink at the ears, but then he shakes his head, trying to focus.

"It's not the same!"

You sigh. "Are they tasteful at least? They seemed fine when I saw them."

Izuku's mouth opens and closes quickly. "W-What do you mean tasteful?"

"I mean he is 15."

"___! They're okay, he's not a pervert!"

You tilt your head to the side. "Exactly, so what's the problem?"

Izuku looks at you with incredulity, shocked by your unbothered manner. "You know, perhaps the 10 year age difference??" Izuku starts. "What if he gets his heart broken? It's not like it can happen!"

You take another long look at him, then laugh again.

"Don't burst a blood vessel, it's just puppy love. He'll get over it."

"I didn't get over my first crush!"

"... Honey, how old do you think I am?" you ask. He sighs then sidesteps your statement, knowing he sounds ridiculous, then presses his head against the table. You push your plate and mug aside now, then take his fingers in yours, and he turns his head to the side to look up at you.

"You know, it's not weird for your teenage son to have a crush on a pretty girl, especially when she was his babysitter most of his life. It's harmless."

Izuku frowns.

"It's not weird I promise. Plus, it won't last." With that last part you lean just a bit closer to whisper, "I heard him on the phone with someone else, he has a crush on another person in his class right now, which I also know because he actually starts caring if I iron his shirts for school."

Izuku seems briefly relieved, then again bothered by this additional info.

"Why doesn't he tell me anything?" he asks.

"Teenagers don't tell anyone anything, don't worry about it." You say, squeezing his fingers. He gives you a half-smile, then you decide to change the subject.

"By the way, Atsuna needs to get stuff for cheerleading, so you can you take her tomorrow? I have some errands I need to run."

"Cheerleading? When did she start cheerleading?"

Izuku looks genuinely dumbfounded, following you as you get up to put your dish away.

"Two weeks ago." You snap your fingers. "I need you to keep up."

He pouts, and you actually feel a little bad.

"I'm kidding," you insist, but the damage is already done. You lead him back to a seat in the kitchen, and he frowns again, tapping his foot anxiously as he sits.

"I'm a shit father," he mumbles, and your heart aches for just a moment. You shake your head then cup his face in your hands. Izuku looks at you and you soften then kiss him.

"No way. You're just doing a ton at once right now. Let me take care of things for now, and then we'll catch up this weekend, okay?"

His hands circle around your wrists, and he's not completely convinced but he nods.

"You do such a great job, I wanna pull my weight," he murmurs and kisses you again. You let his kisses warm you more than the cocoa and press your forehead against his.

"You pull yours too, baby. We can't give 100% to everything all the time so I'll cover you and you cover me, okay?"

He nods.

"Thank you," he adds. You move out of your seat into his lap, and caress the side of his chin, feeling the roughness of his unshaven face, tired but still handsome.

"I'm taking more days off," he promises.

"You don't have to," you insist.

"I don't have to, but I want to."

You laugh but it's just a breath through your nose, and press yourself closer to him so that your face buries into his chest.

"#1 Pro Hero wants more days off so he can give his son the Talk? That will go over well with the Hero Commission."

Your sarcasm hits a little too close to home but he gently grips your fingers again and pulls them to his mouth, kissing the finger tips.

"Izuku, your husband and the father of your kids, wants to spend more time with the beautiful woman he married and the children he helped create," he states. You look into his eyes and he looks determined to make a change and you smile, accepting his resolve.

"Thank you."

---

Your phone rings in the late evening on Sunday, and you can't help but be amused as you pick up. The second you say hello, you can already hear screaming on the other end of the line.

"Is there a reason Deku is suddenly off the patrol schedule for an entire month?!"

You stifle a laugh.

"Why don't you ask him, Kacchan?" Calling his name like your husband does only serves to aggravate him more.

"Very funny. Tell him to pick up the fucking phone."

You glance over at your husband who is busy helping your youngest daughter, Ai, braid her hair down for bed in the living room. Ai holds a mirror and tells him where to part her curls, and Izuku's tongue sticks out as he tries the style on the video on the TV screen. Despite his slight confusion, he looks happy as Ai observes his work and gives him plentiful encouragement.

"When he's no longer busy. Bye! Hug the wife and kids for me!" you say cheerfully as you hang up.

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[rossithepixie]

Just saw a post about having a kid with Gojo and they look exactly like him except they get your eyes. And listen this poor kid. Either way they get super pale overly sensitive eyes. Like damn sorry kid you're also probably gonna get migraines too.

Gojo probably gets excited at the idea of getting the three of us to wear matching sunglasses for pictures though.

[jadenvargen]

posted this on twit but rejected draft for a transgender horror anthology. based on my youth experiences having dinners with bigoted family members while closeted. (deemed too gorey to fit the theme)

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 261

“So is no one going to talk about the eldritch space child or…” 

“I mean, do you want to get between a child and Batman? I think the only one who could even get close right now is Superman…” 

“No you’re right, I think- oh my god the eldritch space child is playing with batman’s bat-ears and he’s not doing anything about it what the fuck I thought only Robins could get away with that-” 

[toboldlymuppet]

broken but not destroyed

WHAT A DISAPPOINTING AND HEARTBREAKING FINALE? To have the man who was abused, mutilated, and disabled for protecting the crew, to have a suicide attempt survivor who crawled on the ground, to have someone who battled depression and alcoholism, to cement his role as the 'Ship's Unicorn" (the figurehead that protected the crew) only to reduce him as someone who "had to die" because he had no more narrative feeling, what a slap to the face. DJenkins said he didn't want to fall back into old tropes and burying your gays, but there's an elder disabled queer man you just buried for what, to absolve Ed of his abuse? Izzy died thinking he DESERVED the torture done upon him. What a disgrace. Izzy fans rallied and kickstarted a S3 renewal Campaign. And many of us are heartbroken and grieving for a show who promised kindness but only justified the abuse we've gotten the past months? We stayed and hoped better because of kindness and belonging. "This show is kind" has never rang more hollow. I'll still love and create art for him, but I don't think I can trust any other queer show again. I thought this would be different. Do you want a queer show full of kindness and found family, for all queers, the disabled and survivors and the rough around the edges ones? It's not Our Flag Means Death.

[kathaynesart]

Language Before/After Kids

Sorry if the humor is a bit crass, but I've witnessed this phenomena so many times with friends who become parents that I could not help but wonder which extreme side of the line these boys fall on.

This is also a bit of a character dive. I kind of like the idea of Leo constantly censoring himself around Casey Junior, because it gives it even more oomph when he says "badass" in the beginning of the movie since it signals that he now views CJ as an adult who he respects, depends on, and can speak with frankly. No censoring needed.

[canisalbus]

✦ Mom ✦

[theelvishfiddler]

An angsty backstory because they are fun and I needed the characters to be split into groups. This one is mostly just TMNT characters, Eggman is just.... here. He is enjoying the show.

[strawberrystepmom]

cw children, cw families. gojo x f!reader. they are married and have a 5 year old. | divider thanks to cafekitsune, wc 1k.

Kneeling with your daughter in the living room of your home, you sigh and brush her tear wet hair off of her round cheek, white strands sticking up on end thanks to being mussed up by your loving hands. She raises a fist and rubs her nose with it, dropping it at her side defeatedly when she finishes.

“Hey, it’s okay, alright? Let’s dry those tears, he won’t be mad at you.” 

She sniffles, shaking her head and bunching her little fists to shove beneath her armpits when she folds her arms over her chest. The little girl is far too much like her father Satoru when her cheeks are rosy and her pout is defiant, blue eyes scanning the rug beneath her feet and the walls for something interesting rather than meeting your glance. 

The sound of the keyless lock’s buttons being pressed alerts the usually excitable five year old that her father is home. Generally she’d leap up and run to the door and into his arms, helping him take off his shoes or carry his bag in, but today she stays firmly in place by your side. Gojo enters your home with a grin, lifting his blindfold and looking at the two of you with uncertainty. The grin dims, a brow is raised, and he approaches the living room with caution. Standing near the two of you, he tilts his head and looks downward. You mouth the word “trouble” and he nods his understanding.

“Alright baby, can you tell papa what happened today?”

Eyes wide with concern, the five year old turns her face upward to look at her father in his now uncovered eyes with a pout. A little sniffle bubbles out of her. You rub her back soothingly, kissing her temple while remaining kneeling at her side, wiping little tears away with your free hand. 

“I…I…,” she starts between sobs. “I got in trouble for letting Yukio eat from my chopsticks.”

Satoru stifles a laugh and you shoot him a withering glance from where you kneel next to your child, still rubbing her back through the half hearted sobs that wrack her body. He kneels down in front of her with arms extended, an invitation she accepts without much thought. Running face first into his chest, your husband lets out a dramatic “oof” and pets the back of her head.

“I don’t see why you should get in trouble for that.”

You agree although you decide to keep that information to yourself pending the rest of the story being told. Remaining kneeling, you comb the ends of her hair with your fingers while he pets her head and her sobbing begins to subside. 

“It’s okay. I’m not mad and neither is mama but tell me, where did you learn to do that?”

Little shoulders shake and the two of you exchange a knowing glance over the top of her head, grateful that she cannot see it bearing in mind how astute she is. Too much like both of you for her own good.

“I learned from mama.”

She learned how to feed another person straight from her utensil from the two of you. You raise your brows defeatedly and Satoru stifles another laugh, holding his daughter against his chest and pouting at you over her head.

“Oh did you?”

Whatever sorrow remained in your child has clearly disappeared thanks to the audible smile in her father’s question. She giggles against his chest, unburying her face just enough to reach upward and poke him in his chin.

“Yeah because she feeds you, papa. You don’t know how to eat on your own!”

It is now your turn to stifle a giggle, turning your head into your shoulder to pretend that you don’t find the drama of being five years old and witnessing your parents love each other hilarious. Your husband gasps at the accusation. There is no wondering where she gets it from. She pokes his chin again and wiggles out of his grasp, running toward you and looking over her shoulder.

“I’m not in trouble, right?”

The two of you shake your heads when she looks between you. 

“Nope. Go wash up and we’ll work on homework in a little bit, alright?” 

Smiling, she accepts kisses on her head as she walks toward the opposite end of your house. You watch her and shake your head with a sigh, finally giggling at your husband who holds his hand out to help you up.

“You’re a terrible influence. First, you give her that personality and now you’re teaching her how to make everyone think she’s the most adorable thing in the world, too. Do you have any shame Mrs. Gojo?”

Rolling your eyes, it’s hard not to bat at Satoru who chuckles in response to the playful touch. He captures your hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, pressing your knuckles against his lips. 

“I think that’s all her actually.” He beams down at you, lips curving against your knuckles as you speak. You remain humble despite being the home where the crown jewel of sorcery resides but that’s always what he’s liked about you, his eyes softening the longer they rest on your face. “You may have to learn how to eat by yourself though instead of stealing bites from me all the time, at least until she forgets she has only seen her father eat on his own probably three times in her entire life.”

He groans, theatrically tilting his head backward and sighing at the ceiling. Your hand is still pressed to his lips and he lifts his other hand to hold it against his face.

“How could you do this to me?”

Laughing, you lean in and rise to your tiptoes to kiss his chin. 

“Easily. Now let’s go see if I’m any better at math than I was when you were still doing my homework for me.”

He drops your hand but quickly collects it in his free one, tipping his head down toward you to capture your lips, effectively getting the last word while twining your fingers together.

[jesncin]

John Constantine and the vanishing twin.

[izvmimi]

*as always reblogs and tags appreciated!

[lazylittledragon]

mombin™ has me in a CHOKEHOLD right now

[tobytost]

wait, you don’t remember what he looks like?

[reineydraws]

jason, suffering from blood loss and getting stitched up by alfred in the cave's medbay: worth it 🙏