#this is the love of my life

[bliss-in-the-void]

Gojo Satoru more like Gorgeous Satoru

| JJK S2 Ep9 Screencaps |

[courtingchaos]

2pm on a Sunday

Pairing: Professor Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: It’s a little slice of life, 2pm on a Sunday afternoon.

A/N: I’m always thinking about Professor Munson. This is just a little fluffy kind of blurb. A little dirty at the beginning but I wasn’t in the mood to write smut! That’s next time babes.

Warnings: sex, language, weed smoking NSFW 18+ no minors

2pm on Sundays are Eddie’s time.

He’ll have spent the morning trying to wake you up first because the rule was whoever woke up first made coffee first and he wasn’t getting out of bed first on a Sunday.

You never get out of bed first.

His plan will inevitably backfire and before he knows it, 10 am is rolling by and he is yet again trapped between your thighs. Your fingers buried deep in his hair making him moan against you, his own fingers buried deep in your pussy, pulling out whines and making you wiggle under him. It’s Sunday and there’s no rush. He takes his time running his tongue over and over your clit, the needy sound in your throat droning on while he keeps his steady pace.

“Ed…”

“Hmm?” He hums and locks his lips around you.

“You gonna pick up the pace or what?”

“Oh I’m sorry.” He lifts his head to look up at you. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

You’re giggly and a little sleepy still, grinning down at him. He can’t help but grin back when you smooth one hand over his frizzed curls.

“No but I thought you wanted coffee.”

He lays his cheek on your inner thigh but keeps his fingers rubbing lazily inside. Your eyes roll back and fingers grip again against his scalp, his name dripping from your lips. Normally he’d crawl up the bed now and pull your knees up around his ribs and really make you late for whatever errands you had.

But he did actually really want that coffee.

So he stays put. Moves his hand faster and pins your hips down and keeps his tongue moving until you’re sighing into the quiet room, pliant in his hands. He moves your legs off his back and you slide over to his side of the bed to cuddle up to his pillow. Another contented sigh while he’s grabbing his robe and before he leaves the room you mumble something at him, face still shoved in the pillow.

“What was that?” He leans down on the bed, one hand on the pillow to pull it back so he can see your one eye looking up at him.

“I said I wanted extra sugar in mine.”

He makes kissy noises at you and tries to land one on your lips. “Oh baby, I’m all the sugar you need.”

So yeah, 2pm. Sundays. It’s his time. You’re usually gone off to do whatever it is you haven’t don’t yet this week and Eddie is firmly planted in the kitchen, working on his good afternoon high. If you’re not involved he’s just rolling a joint or packing the little glass bowl on his pipe. You’re the more epicurean of the two of you so you’ve got brownies and cookies and fucking candy that he still isn’t used to yet. 2pm on Sundays is Eddie’s ‘me time’, his little smoke session and todays tag along treat are the left over biscuits you’d made for breakfast the day before. He’s leaning on the kitchen island, joint tucked firmly between his lips, arms crossed over his flannel robe, watching the plate turn in the microwave. 30 seconds and he can put the tub of frosting in there and he’s already dipped into the strawberry preserves he’s going to use.

He’s got a good buzz going, the speakers in the kitchen on low while he assembles his snack. He can hear you shuffling around upstairs still. When he’d finally brought up your coffee you’d been in the shower and he hadn’t heard a peep from you yet. Now though he can hear the squeak of your shoes on the wood floor, the jingling of metal and your humming along with his music. He’s on the other side of the island now so he can see you come down the stairs and so he can sit at the barstool and stuff his face with breakfast delicacies.

When you swan down off the stairs he lets out a dry laugh, still trying to chew the mouthful he’d shoved in there. “Where are you going?” He sounds a little accusatory and it makes you whip your head around to give him a confused look.

“Excuse me?”

“I said,” he swallows finally, “Where are you going? Dressed like that.”

“Like what?” You’re actually confused. You look down at your plain cropped top and high waisted work pants, pointless chain hanging from your belt loops. “Are you mad you can see skin, dad?” You ask sarcastically, giving him a sharp raised brow.

“Nope, don’t do that. I know what you’re doing.” He’s still seated but is pointing a lazy finger at you accusingly. “That’s girl bait.” He snaps his fingers down at your feet. You did cuff these pants, and you do have fun socks on today and yeah sure those are your slip on vans.

“Girl bait?” You know you’ve been caught but you also know he’s high, plate of biscuits and frosting all the evidence you need.

“You know exactly what I mean. Who is she?” He’s not mad, in fact he’s smirking at you while he’s got strawberry stuck to his chin.

“God you’re a fucking mess.” You laugh and move into the kitchen so you can steal a bite and wipe the preserve off his chin with your thumb.

“You gonna answer me? Who’s this secret girlfriend huh? She give better head than me?”

“Oh my god, if I had a girlfriend she wouldn’t be a secret. And you know how good you are at that don’t even try me.”

“Okay well what’s with the cuffed dickies then?” He takes a pull from his joint and sets it back down in the ashtray, makes sure to blow the smoke away from you while handing you another piece of sticky biscuit.

“Okay. Fine. I’m going to get a coffee and there’s a new barista. I want her to think I’m cool, okay?” You can’t help the heat creeping up your neck with the way Eddie is leering at you now, stupid little smirk growing wider with the passing seconds.

“Trading me in for a younger model, I get it.” He knows that’s not true, but he’s gonna tease you about it anyways. “You want her to think you’re cool? Just tell her about the brownstone you live in.”

“No, she’ll think I’m a yuppie.”

“Well…” Eddie trails off, flashes a big frown at you and raises his eyes. “Sorry love, you might be now.”

You push his shoulder and he acts like you’ve mortally wounded him, laying back across the other barstools dramatically. His glasses that had been perched on top of his head clatter to the ground and he looks around for the noise.

“Oh that’s where those were.” He’d be lost without you, you know this. You laugh at him again and lean over to grab his glasses and he takes the opportunity to slap your ass with a giggle. When you stand up you fling his glasses into the living room.

“Have fun finding those, pointdexter.”

He’s still laying down awkwardly across the barstools, trying to blindly find the ashtray on the countertop, grinning up at you. You drag it closer and pick the joint up for him.

“Thank you baby.”

You hum and lean down to give him a kiss. “I’ll be back soon. You need anything?”

“Just don’t let your new girl get you home too late.”

Later, when the sun is starting to set, casting the kitchen in deep orange, you come home to relative quiet. There’s two stubbed out roaches in the ashtray and you can hear the murmur of life upstairs that you follow. You’re about to push through the half open door of Eddie’s office when you notice Steve’s voice and the light strum of his acoustic. Their laughs twine together while Steve talks about their friend Dustin and his kids having set something on fire again. You sneak a hand into the room enough to set his iced chai on the table just inside.

You’re making dinner when he finally comes down, ice clacking in the plastic cup. He comes right up behind you to drop his nose into the back of your neck, arms circling around your waist. He’s warm against your back and cuddly so he’s still sitting in the twilight of that high he’d been so diligently working on earlier.

“You okay?” You ask over your shoulder and he hooks his chin there to give you a kiss. He taste like good weed and the chai he finished.

“Yeah just tired. Hungry.” His stomach growls and you chuckle.

“Go sit down, foods almost ready.” He just grumbles and nuzzles back into your neck. He stays like that till you have to move from the stove, swaying both of you to the music in his head.

“Oh, we’re having dinner with Steve next weekend.”

“We are?”

“Yeah, I meant to text you earlier.”

“Is it fancy?”

“It’s Steve. So yeah.”

You roll your eyes and hand Eddie his plate and point at the island. “Sit.” He sticks his tongue out but complies. Always listens to you.

“Do I need to get something new for this?”

“Mmm, we could go get you something.” Eddie’s watching you over his fork, letting the steaming noddles cool.

“Are you buying me something pretty?”

“Something like that. How do you feel about purple?”

“Purple what?” Something’s up. Eddie can’t hide an emotion when he’s high and he’s high and tired so the look on his face is a mix between salacious and hopeful.

“Uh, anything?”

“Why purple Eddie.” It’s not a question. You stand on the other side of the island and stare at him and grin like an idiot. He just shrugs his shoulders and gives you a dubious look.

“Steve likes purple.”

(Sacrifice for the readmore)

[meadow-dusk]

[chaosintended]

considering my usual taste in men (traumatized, sarcastic, and done with it all--the holy trinity), does it come as a surprise to anyone that haymitch abernathy is one of my favorite characters?

[femboylando]

HOLT FUCK LOOK AR MT GIRLFRIEND IM SICK FO MY STOMACH HES SO PRWTTY ANS PERFECT

[galaxy-sauce]

a quick doodle after consistent years of art block and no practice yaaaaaay

i know baby boy is an oil slick but i like him ratty too. but he’s also uhhh slay ,,,

i edited this the way i would’ve when i was 14 that’s insaaane. doomed to repeat history i suppose.

[irradiated-cutie]

Happy bday to my beloved fiancé she’s 26 today and I love every year him and I have been together 🩷💜🩵

[ghost-of-you]

This is baby.

[jinstronaut]

on god i love and hate this man so much

[modernmanblues]

my sexy man. my muse. my soulmate. 💘

[tyrannysaurusfloof]

*deep breath*

MUH-THERRR-!!!

I never met mine

…

thanks for reminding me

[bjurnberg]

My work boots are the most expensive shoes I’ve ever owned.

Also the most comfortable. I chose them after trying on several different brands and comparing lifespan vs usage vs comfort - I needed them for a physically demanding job, not the weekend hiking trails. I could have easily chosen cheaper boots that would have lasted long enough to be worth their low price, but I know the Sam Vimes Boot Theory and knew weaker, less comfortable boots would make my life harder in the long run.

So when the outside edge of the heel started wearing down after three years of heavy use I went to the shop I got them from and said “hey this is a common problem for me with how I walk but now it’s affecting my ankles and knees and I don’t wanna have to buy a new pair, is there a way to fix this?”

The salesman at this very fancy upscale boot store said “oh yeah, there’s a shoe repair place that can give you some heel guards - it’ll keep the rubber from wearing out.”

So at 8am this morning right after my 9hr shift ends I went to the shoe repair shop and it is the most hole-in-the-wall, is-this-a-real-business-or-a-mafia-front, am-I-gonna-get-shot tiny cinder block cube I’ve ever seen in my life. I grew up plenty poor and love me a good hole-in-the-wall business, but going from upscale store to this cash-only repair shop gave me whiplash. Wasn’t expecting this when a guy who wears three piece suits to sell boots said it’s the best place to go.

The skinny kid behind the counter looks somehow 16 and 25 at the same time, but when I tell him this place was recommended he smiles and says to hand over my boots. I hand him the vaguely warm foot-smelling boots, and stand in my socks in the 3’ square entryway surrounded by every color leather polish you could buy and watch as he turns my boots around in his hands, sizes up a crescent moon bits of plastic, and unceremoniously hammers tiny nails through them before handing them back.

The heels are perfectly level again. I can walk without almost rolling my ankles. They don’t clack loudly on the pavement or feel different. This is gonna fix my knee pain. It cost $10.

This kid had every tool he needed within arms reach, worked fast and smoothly, I was in and out the door in less than 8 minutes, and it only cost $10.

I didn’t think anything could cost only $10 anymore. I’m so used to hyperinflation prices I was spiritually thrown back to the 1400’s visiting the cobbler in town square. This kid might have been that cobbler and just decided to never die.

I’m still reeling from the whiplash, and gobsmacked at the price, and thrilled I didn’t have to go buy new, worse work boots (cuz I don’t have that kind of money for a second pair, I’m expecting these ones to last a decade) and it feels like I just experienced one of the rare little chunks of magic that floats around our world.

[meadow-dusk]

[hansoeii]

we go just right.

[xamag-draws]

[Winx] come get your glitter girlies ✨

[itsbrucey]

Big fan of sun motifs in characters not necessarily being about positivity and happiness and how they're so " bright and warm" but instead being about fucking brutal they are.

Radiant. A FORCE of nature that will turn you to ash. That warmth that burns so hot it feels like ice. Piercing yellow and red and white. A character being a Sun because you cannot challenge a Sun without burning alive or taking everything down with them if victorious.