#whatever he wants like i’m so serious WHATEVER HE WANTS

[angel5ofp0rn]

Are the kids parent trapping john and the reader? 😭💞

Oh, they absolutely are 🙂‍↕️

(u totally cured my writers block i’m gonna give u a lil kiss)

PT 1 / PT 2 / PT 3 / PT 4 😋

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

*one of my biggest icks when i read stuff like this is when the writer names the kids and the names are ugly but i did that here and im so sorry. a thousand apologies. 😔

You and John stood in the mudroom, playing a divorced couple who had no lingering feelings.

Acting as if you didn’t spend all weekend weak in the knees at the sight of him walking around the house shirtless in his grey sweatpants like he never left.

Pretending that John didn’t ask you to take him back.

Like you didn’t fuck. Like you didn’t even kiss.

“I’ll bring the kids by next weekend, then.” You say casually, arms crossed as you lean against the archway.

John just nods as he pulls on his boots.

“Gabriel has a… a parent-teacher meeting on Wednesday.” You mention, trying to sound nonchalant. “They’re usually just an in-and-out kind of thing, we look at his artwork and whatever. It’s nothing serious… but if you wanted to go-”

“What time?” John asks as he stands up from the bench.

“5pm.”

John nods again. “I’ll be there.”

You chew your lower lip as you look at him. Why is him wanting to be a good dad so…

“Gabriel, Linnie! Come say bye to dad!” You call over to the playroom where the children were.

The little ones race around the corner in no time, crashing into their dad and clinging their little arms and legs around his legs, sitting on his boots.

“We don’t want daddy to go!” The youngest pouts.

“Why can’t dad have another sleepover?” The oldest whines.

“Right, you two. Stop giving mummy a hard time.” John puts on the stern dad voice for a moment.

The kids whine and moan but eventually listen to their dad and un-cling themselves from his legs.

“Since daddy had a sleepover with us this weekend, you two can have a sleepover with him next weekend. Deal?”

“Will you come to daddy’s sleepover too, mummy?” The youngest asks innocently.

You blush.

John grins, his eyebrows raising.

“No… I…”

“Please come to daddy’s sleepover!” The youngest begs, puppy dog pout and all.

“You and daddy can have kissies and we won’t even look this time.” The oldest offers earnestly.

You hear John stifle a laugh.

You shoot him a glare.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Is all you can offer. “Give your dad a big hug so he can get going.”

They listen, for once. They each give John and big bear hug and in return receive a kiss on the head.

Then they both stood to the side and watched John and you, as if they were waiting for something.

“See you Wednesday, mummy.” John grins as he opens the door.

“Goodbye, daddy.” You roll your eyes, a dumb smile on your lips as you close it after him.

“No kissies?” The youngest child frowns, looking to her big brother in confusion, her little hands up in a shrug.

The older child shrugs as well, as if he’s just as confused by this.

•••

When Wednesday night rolls around you start to regret inviting John to Gabe’s school.

You just went two whole days without him. Things were finally going back to normal.

You walk in to the school with your oldest holding one of your hands, you other hand supporting the youngest on your hip.

The three of you wait around by the front doors for a while.

5:00

5:05

5:23

“Maybe daddy got busy with work.” You force a smile as you try to reassure your five year old. “Let’s just get in there, I wanna see your classroom!”

“I wanna wait for dad.” Your oldest crosses his arms.

“Yeah!” The youngest follows suit, crossing her little arms as she stands next to the oldest.

Why did you even tell them that he was coming? You glance down at your phone, still not seeing any notifications from John.

“Look, let’s just go in. Your dad is-”

“Daddy!” The two children squeal and giggle when they see John walk through the doors. They go running, being scooped up into his arms.

“You’re late.” You cross your arms.

“Showed up, though, didn’t I?” He smiles, though you have a feeling there’s something hiding behind it.

He sets the oldest to his feet and the rest of you follow him to the classroom. The youngest squirms out of John’s hold so she can run around and touch… well, everything.

“Mrs. Price!” Your oldest’s teacher greets you cheerily. “Good to see you again!”

John quirks an eyebrow at you.

Mrs. Price?

You kept his last name?

Of course you pretend not to see his reaction to the news.

It’s not that big of a deal, really. You just didn’t want to do the extra paperwork.

“Mr. Price, I don’t believe we’ve met.” The young, pretty teacher smiles as he extends her hand to John.

The comment, though true, hurt John. It really made him realize how much he’s been missing out on since the divorce.

“John.” He corrects her as he shakes her hand, grinning.

“John.” She repeats softly, as if trying to remember it.

You swear you see her cheeks turn pink.

If it wasn’t for the kids being here, you’d fucking-

“Mum!” Gabe tugs on your pant leg.

You turn to see what he was pointing at.

Behind you was a wall full of artwork, mostly of little stick people or random scribbles. Above all the art were the words “Our Families”.

“Aww, which one is yours, monkey?” You smile, lifting your oldest so he can point to his artwork for you.

You follow his little finger to a white paper with a house shape containing four figures.

Above their heads are written mum, dad, me, sissy.

“John,” you call over your shoulder. “Come look at what Gabe drew.”

John is by your side in a second, your youngest in his arms.

“You know, he used to draw two houses.” You glance at John. “Yours and mine.”

“Huh…” John nods, taking in the artwork. “How ‘bout that…”

•••

“Thank you for coming with. It meant a lot to Gabriel.” You tell John as the two of you stand between your cars in the parking lot.

“Not a problem, love.” He smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You look down at the snow under your boots before looking back up.

“Miss Halle has the hots for you, huh?” You ask with slightly bitter tone.

“Does she now?” John grins, his head tilted to the side. “Didn’t notice.”

“Like hell you didn’t notice. She was all, ‘Ooh, John.’” You mimic. John laughs.

“Jealous, are you?”

“No.” You frown, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “It was just… unprofessional, you know?”

John just grins.

There it is.

Fuck, he missed that. Missed knowing you cared.

“Drive home safely, lovey.” John says finally.

You nod, turning to get into your car, but you’re stopped by a hand on your arm.

John turns you around and plants a kiss to your lips.

You just let him, knees weak, his hands cupping your face.

He has you. You’re his…

The two children in the backseat of your car, watching through the window from their car seats, turn to each other and smile triumphantly.

[shiftingparadise]

Gojo x Reader: Like a goddess

Hi guys, this is just something that popped into my head. Hope you guys like it 🤍✨

Warnings: suggestive content

Word count: 1304

“Tsk”, you smirked as you looked up. “What’s wrong? Scared of losing?”, Gojo hovered over you, his hand resting against the wall. “You know it wouldn’t be a fair fight”. “I’ll hold back, don’t worry”, his voice low.

Butterflies rose to your stomach. There was always this tension between the two of you. He always teased you, touching your arm a little bit too long, his hand touching your ass on ‘accident’… 

“Fine”, you pushed yourself from the wall, slightly bending your head so you could escape him, “I’ll see you on the field after dinner”. “You serious?”, he chuckled. “After dinner”, you looked over your shoulder, a smirk on your face. “Hold on a second”, he stepped towards you, “What’s in it for me? We both know you’re going to lose”. “Just spit it out”, you rolled your eyes. You knew he had something in mind. “I get to take you out on a date”. “A date?”, you laughed, “With you?”. “Or we can skip the date and go straight to my room”, he hummed. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief as the corners of your mouth curled into a smile. “You don’t have to deny your feelings toward me”, his index finger tilting your chin up, “I’ve seen the way you look at me”. “You’re crazy”, you actively avoided his gaze, afraid you’d gotten too wrapped up in his game. “Don’t mistake me for one of your idiotic girlfriends”, you scoffed, “I’m not that easy to impress”. “I know, that’s why I like you”. 

Your eyes unwillingly went round. You knew Gojo. How bold he could be. Yet he never did so with you until now. 

“See?”, a soft chuckle before he pulled away, “Don’t lose on purpose. I’ll take you out anyway”. “Don’t worry. I don’t want to go on a date with you”, you scoffed before turning around and walking off.  

---

“This all you got?”, Gojo’s foot resting on your chest, his hands in his pocket. “That’s disappointing… Or did you lose on purpose?”. “You weren’t holding back”, your hands wrapped around his ankle. “You’d be dead within a second if I didn’t”, he leaned towards you, “We had a deal, remember?”. “Whatever”, you looked to the side, your lips pressed together. “Tomorrow, 8 PM”, he smirked before stepping away, his hand now reaching for you. “Fuck off”, you slapped his hand away. “Where are you taking me anyway?”. Your eyes locked on the ground as you swiped some grass and dirt from your clothes. “Who knows?”, his hand in his pockets again as he walked away, “Wear something nice”. 

--- 

“I’m coming”, you hurried to the door as you heard Gojo knock on your door. “Finally”, he sighed as he looked at the ceiling. “You’re early”, you looked down to put your phone in your purse as you heard a soft gasp followed by a forced cough. “What?”, you looked up with a raised eyebrow. 

He was leaning against the door frame with one arm, his eyes locked on you. There was this slight, almost unnoticeable blush on his face. 

“Nothing”, he stood up straight, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late”. “Where are we going?”, you asked as you closed your door. A moment went by before he answered, causing you to think there was something wrong. “A famous cocktail bar”, he replied far more quietly than normal. “What’s wrong? You don’t like my dress?”, your heart sunk to your stomach as you noticed his unusual expression. “No, it’s just-“, he cleared his throat as he brushed through his hair. “Just what?”. “Fuck”, he let out a low chuckle that send butterflies through your entire body. “Look at me, you’re the first girl that’s ever left me speechless. If you’d let me, I’d have you up against the wall right now, but you’re not that easy, right? You’re not like the others, hm?”, he closed the distance between you two, his hands now resting on your waist. You could only stare into his eyes, your words stuck inside your throat as your hands clutched onto your purse. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t considering skipping the formalities. The two of you knew what was going to happen tonight, how far you’d let him take things… But it was more fun to play hard to get, wasn’t it? 

“You’re delusional”, you placed your hand against his chest, softly pushing him away. “Hm”, his eyes lingering a little too long on your chest, “We’ll see”. 

---

“That was fun”, you leaned back against the leather seat as the driver started the car. “Where do you want to go?”, his elbow leaning on the window as his hand supported his head. He had this devilish look in his eyes that made it hard for you to focus. “My place or yours?”. “My place”, you shook your head as you smiled, “I told you I’m not that easy. Not even when I’m tipsy-“. You widened your eyes as you felt his hand on your thigh, softly pulling up your dress, “My place then?”. You barely managed to nod as heat flushed to your cheeks. 

You watched as Gojo told the driver the address. He looked handsome. He always did, but tonight was different. Probably because he was wearing a black shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A completely different style than his usual uniform. His white hair looked a little bit messier than usual, probably because it was a windy outside, but it didn’t matter. Gojo looked even better with his hair like that, even more nonchalant and cocky. 

“So, you want to skip your little act? Or do you want to continue being stubborn? Making it only more fun for me?”. He had you backed against the wall of his hallway, his forehead against yours. “I’m not that easy-“. “I know you aren’t, don’t get the wrong idea”, he gently grabbed your jaw, “You think I even bother to take other girls out for a date?”. You narrowed your eyes, your arms crossed now. “You’re an asshole”. “Not to you”, his eyes gliding over your body, “You know that”. “Hm”, your hands now playing with the buttons of his shirt, “Maybe”. “Maybe?”, his voice more desperate as he felt you fiddling with his shirt. “Well, it all depends on how you treat me tonight”, a pout on your face. “Is that so?”, another low chuckle as his other hand softly pinched your waist, “And how do you want me to treat you?”. “I want you to worship me like a goddess”, you pulled him closer by his collar, “You think you can do that? Or is your ego too big?”. “We’ll see”, his lips brushing against yours before he suddenly picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. “You want to be treated like a goddess, huh?”, he gently seated you on the edge of his bed. “Hm”, you nodded as you looked into his eyes. “Fine”, he softly pushed your dress off your shoulder, “I’ll let you see a side of me no one has ever seen”. He paused as he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder, “But I have to get something in return”. “What?”, your hand massaging the back of his head. “You won’t see other guys as long as we’re having fun. You won’t talk to another man… Shit, I don’t even want you to look at another guy. You’ll be mine and mine only, okay?”. “Then you’ve got to make sure I won’t have to-“. “Don’t test my patience”, he tilted your chin, “Promise me”. “Fine”, you frowned, “As long as you don’t take other girls home”. “You’re the only one I want”, he smiled before he gently pressed his lips against yours, “The only one I need”. 

[rarityroo]

Obviously Jax is bad at feelings; even worse with apologizing. He and his girl have their first big fight and she just gives him the cold shoulder to the point he’s frustrated. He’d definitely say something “Come on, doll face, I said I was sorry! What else do you want from me, woman?!”

Fumbling apologies

(Jax x Fem!reader)

Hi! Im sorry this took a bit, I sadly have strep and feel like I ate a cheese grater lmao. This isn’t proof read so please forgive me if this is wonky, I honestly really like writing for Jax so I’m very happy I got this request! If you like this please lmk, Enjoy!

You didn't mind Jax's crude nature, more often than not you found it funny. Sure his jokes and such were mean but he had a certain air about him you found so enjoyable. Until this moment at least...

"I just don't get what the big deal is!" Jax says in a dismissive tone. Your eyes flashed with frustration, was he serious? "It's not just about saying sorry, Jax. It's about meaning it! You can't just toss around apologies like they're nothing. I need to feel like you actually understand why I'm upset." Jax crosses his arms, a stubborn glint in his eyes. “Come on, doll face, I said I was sorry! What else do you want from me, woman?!” Jax said exasperated, he just wanted this to be over.

You shook your head, unbelieving. "I want you to acknowledge why I'm upset! I want you to understand how your actions hurt me." You were so sick of his insensitive jokes, or dismissive attitude whenever you try to talk about how you feel. He was so mean sometimes, but you still loved him.

Jax's frustration finally boils over, and he snaps, "Well, maybe if you weren't so damn sensitive, we wouldn't be in this mess!" "

Your eyes widen, hurt flashing across your face before it hardens into resolve. "Y'know what, fine. Jax, if that's how you feel, maybe we need some time apart." You started to regret those words, you didn't want him to go, you didn't want space but you were so exhausted from the constant back and forth. This has gone too far.

For a moment, silence hangs heavily between them, tension crackling in the air. Then, Jax's expression softens, regret seeping into his features. He knows he messed up. He knows he needs to make things right.

"I... I didn't mean that," he says quietly, his voice tinged with remorse. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't-." Jax was struggling to find the words, he doesn't like apologizing, he thinks it's a waste of his time and that it's below him although he knows he's wrong for what he said. You look at him, maybe he finally says a decent apology instead of brushing it off, maybe it was different this time.

You meet his gaze, your expression softening slightly. "Do you really mean that?"

Jax nods earnestly. "Yeah, I do." He said his eyes earnest, he looked embarrassed. "I know I'm not great at this stuff, but I want to try. I care about you alright? I don't want you to be all sad because of some dumb thing I said, I care about you or whatever." He finalized with a huff. You internally softly smile at that.

You take a deep breath, calming yourself, "I care about you too, Jax. But we need to communicate better. I don't want this to happen again."

He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. "I promise I'll work on it. Starting with this." And then, with a tenderness he didn't know he possessed, Jax leans in and presses his lips to yours in a sweet, apologetic kiss. In that moment, the tension melts away, replaced by a warmth that spreads through you both. You may not be perfect, but you were willing to try, together.

[artydonsgf]

Hey love💕 could u do an arthusband! fic??

hi sweets! i’m in the process of writing husband art but i didn’t wanna keep you waiting so i wrote out a headcanon list! i also included a small nsfw portion for my own delusional giggles, enjoy~

Art Donaldson as your Husband

- when yall start dating, it’s apparent that you’re his first real girlfriend

- he’s fooled around with people before but the eagerness of his kisses and how quickly your touch sends him over the edge makes it clear it was never serious

- you like it though, it’s cute how embarrassed he gets when you stare at him and call him handsome

- amazing bf, top tier communicator

- you discover early one that art does not play about you so he really tries his best to avoid any arguments that aren’t constructive

- extremely gooey and tells you that he wants to marry you in the future like a week into your relationship

- despite how good of a communicator he is, he also gets in his head very easily

- constantly worried that he’s somehow not enough for you and you’ll find someone better

- these worries die down pretty quickly but it sits in the back of his mind sometimes

- said i love you first and he said it after 6 months

- he later told you that he knew after a month but didn’t want to scare you away

- after a year of dating, he gives you a promise ring and swears that he’ll propose to you the moment you guys graduate

- two years in, you guys move in together

- six months later and true to his word, he gives you his grandmother’s ring while you’re both still in your caps and gowns

- the wedding happens quickly since neither of you wanted something big

- your wedding day is the best day of his life, something he tells you a million times throughout the day

- he cried like a baby when you walked down the aisle

- in all of your wedding photos, he’s looking at you like you are the center of the universe

- art settles into married life with ease

- in his mind, you guys have already been married since the moment you agreed to be his girlfriend

- sharing a last name with you is the best thing ever in his mind

- sometimes he’ll call you mrs donaldson just to hear you respond to it

- laughs into his hand when you respond but you already realized what he was doing forever ago

- a true romantic

- leaves flowers and other cute trinkets at your bedside table when he comes home from traveling for games

- he’ll be dead asleep beside you but you’ll always find a small bouquet, breakfast, and a souvenir from whatever town he passed through

- constantly thinks about you

- facetime warrior, he will call you at any time just to hear your voice

- if he’s lucky and you’re able to come with him to games, he spends any spare time curled up in your arms and ask you to just speak

- loves it when you run a hand through his hair, he’ll twist himself into an uncomfortable position if it means you’ll keep scratching his head

- the annoying guy who mentions his wife at any given moment

- “ah yes, my WIFE, also enjoys hiking”

- his idea of a date is dinner and cuddling the whole night

- seems to forget that he can kiss you whenever because he always asks if he can kiss you

- needs you like he needs air, bro is insane about you

- patrick knew about you before he even met you because art spoke about the beautiful girl with the kind eyes and sweet smile for a month before he actually asked you out

- bro was yearning like crazy

- his biggest issue is his jealousy

- starts plotting murder whenever a man speaks to you for too long

- or woman, he’s equal opportunity jealous

- ofc he doesn’t have to worry because you’re always quick to flash your ring and name drop him as your husband in convos

- he’s a very good husband who loves you an insane amount and makes sure to communicate that to you 24/7

NSFW

- legit will do anything you ask of him, so he’s very into experimenting

- your pleasure > his every time

- he enjoys oral but doesn’t really ask for it since he’d prefer to give

- submissive by nature and is happy to let you take charge

- only really dominant after a particularly tough day on the courts

- aftercare KING, he’ll get you cleaned up in two seconds flat so he can keep you in his arms for the rest of the night

- very needy in bed, he wants your constant attention

- total praise kink, he can hardly breathe when you tell him he’s doing a good job

- he had to learn how to control his pace because he used to come immediately

- despite his quickness at finishing, he has insane stamina and will keep you up the whole night

- it’s always you >>> any of his obligations

- more times than you can count, you’ve had to pry him off of you because he had important things to do the next seat

- loves quickies

- likes it when you pull his hair

[katakaluptastrophy]

Let's be very clear about what the Houses do.

When Gideon fantasises about leaving the Ninth, this is what she imagines:

Not for Gideon a security detail on one of the holding planets, either on a lonely outpost on an empty world or in some foreign city babysitting some Third governor. Gideon wanted a drop ship—first on the ground—a fat shiny medal saying INVASION FORCE ON WHATEVER, securing the initial bloom of thanergy without which the finest necromancer of the Nine Houses could not fight worth a damn. The front line of the Cohort facilitated glory. In her comic books, necromancers kissed the gloved palms of their front-liner comrades in blessed thanks for all that they did. In the comic books none of these adepts had heart disease, and a lot of them had necromantically uncharacteristic cleavage.

A drop ship of infantry. Armed with those infantry standard two-hander swords. Their job is to secure the initial bloom of thanergy. Which sounds like a very antiseptic way of saying that a House invasion starts with a suicide squad of teenagers whose job it is to cause as many casualties as possible, so that the necromancers have something to work with. Teenagers like Gideon, desperate serfs or just wanting to make something of themselves, sold a promise of sex and glory, economic assets of their far-flung Houses until their untimely deaths.

But how useful their deaths, and those they take with them are! To the necromanvers of the Second, who can drain your thalergy as you die screaming. The Third, who can draw energy from the corpses littering the battlefield. The Fourth, who can turn them into bombs...

Until the subdued planet can be flipped, a contract put in place, a profit exacted. That Third governor installed.

Later, John explains to Harrow how planets are flipped:

So back at the start we’d drop in a single Lyctor, unnoticed, to start the thanergy reaction. Not to flip the whole planet, you understand, just to get the juice flowing.” He made a hand gesture for get the juice flowing, which made your head hurt. “Then within an hour or two you could send down a team of adepts and be confident they’d have all the reserves they needed. Nowadays we can’t afford to use Lyctors, so the first strike falls to the men and women of the Cohort, and they do a magnificent job…but the old way was neater, and kinder too, I think.

And in NTN, Aim describes her own harrowing experience as a displaced victim of what happens after that invasion, after the long and exploitative economic contract, and after the planet finally succumbs to its flipping:

The usual. It had been under contract for a long time. I mean, we were the third settlement wave, they built the Crescent in the bones of two other cities, you couldn’t dig up anything without finding remnants of a people we’d never known. The microbial population didn’t show signs of serious decay until the moment before the sea went anaerobic. The things crawling out of there … they seemed to mutate all at once … The Houses pulled support, said they’d prep us for an early move, but they left minimal forces in the barracks. We dug up old caches of materiel and used them. On the mutants from the sea, on the animals as they changed, on one another, on the Houses when they saw what we’d got our hands on and came back to take control. Blood of Eden was there too, you know. And in the end the Houses won and most of us surrendered and we were moved. Two moves later, and I’m here. There’s still a facility on Lemuria, of course. A decade later the Houses made it safe for geopolymer refining. It must be desolate.

And so you get the "lonely outpost on an empty world", the assignment Gideon saw as so unglamorous.

[garfunklefield]

can I request Toji with a female s/o who is insecure of her small boobs because I'm always very insecure of mine.

Thank you!

Pretty Thing!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

Fem!reader/Toji Fushiguro Warnings: Humor and some angst, self love, mature language, Toji is emotionally constipated, comfort, sensual kissing, nipple play Word count: 1374 DESC: Toji tries, fails, then tries again to make you feel confident!

As someone from the big titty committee, I think small boobs are beautiful!!! (And so does Toji!)

Toji never understood that when you complained, you were serious. You had breasts on the smaller side and it always made you stare just a bit longer in the mirror, especially when you wore something low-cut. Why couldn’t you get that cleavage all those pretty Instagram models had? Why was it they had to be blessed and you got the scraps? It didn’t initially make you insecure, but recently you found yourself wearing more conservative things to hide your boobs further. 

Your boyfriend never realized how deep your insecurity went, kind of brushing it off honestly. He assumed it was one of those things you both knew wasn’t true because he’s an idiot, so he never felt the need to tell you how he really felt. At first, you were confident he liked your breasts for their size and how easily they fit in the palm of his hand. But then… without any reassurance? You started to lose all your confidence and wonder if he liked them. 

He did notice you were upset today. But being the kind of stupid guy he was, he just assumed it wasn’t anything to bring up. He was bad at … discussing feelings. So Toji decided to avoid feelings altogether unless you brought it up. That was his fatal flaw, never bringing up issues and waiting for you too. It was tiring, and you weren’t having it today. 

“Hey,” he nudged your arm with his own. The two of you were seated on your couch. You were mindlessly scrolling on your phone, in a baggier shirt that hid your body. You looked over at him and he motioned to his phone, “I’m ordering. What do you want?” 

“I’m not hungry,” a frown pulled at your lips and your thumb went back to scrolling, “Just get whatever you want.” 

He narrowed his eyes, “You’re always hungry.” 

“Not right now, Toji,” your voice raised slightly. 

“Fine fine,” he backed off, going back to the UberEats app, “What’s up your ass today?” 

Typical Toji, uncaring and loud. He always thought you could handle his abrasive nature, how cold he could be. He didn’t know sometimes you wanted a caring hand. Why would you tell him? What if he just laughed? He didn’t know all you wanted was some reassurance you were beautiful, even with smaller breasts. You wanted to smack yourself upside the head. Why did it all come back to that insecurity? Well, it was big. It affected how you dressed and affected how you loved yourself. 

“Nothing, Toji,” you snapped back at him, not looking up from your phone. 

“Am I not allowed to ask my girlfriend what’s wrong?” His voice shook your ears, making your head snap up to him. 

“Not when you ask it like that!” Your voice broke, shattering down your walls, “God!” You set your phone down on your lap and met his expression. It was hollow as you started to break. Why was it that the smallest of things were bothering you today? You couldn’t help but explode and cave in, expressing it. 

“I’m.. my.. I’m not..” You tried at least.

The man found himself rolling his eyes, “You're pretty.” That’s where he thought it would go at least, you just aching for some kind of reassurance he’d begrudgingly give.

“My boobs aren’t big!” You then blurted, regretting the moment it escaped your lips. It was a strange thing to say, and you knew it from his expression.

“Your … what.” Your boyfriend blinked a few times. He hadn’t expected you to say something to that nature, and he hadn’t expected that to be something that bothered you so much. He liked breasts, sure, but he didn’t hate yours. He liked how he could hold each one perfectly in his hand, with enough room to squeeze it fully. How they perfectly fit into his mouth. But whether or not he liked it, Toji realized, shouldn’t make you instantly love yourself. You should love yourself because you want to. It hurt his heart to see there was a part of your perfect body you didn’t love. Maybe, there was a way he could show you that you should love yourself, regardless of what anyone thought. 

Toji sat there, staring at you for a few moments, making you feel more self-conscious. In your head, you had just outed yourself as a weirdo who overthought. He let out a breath and shook his head, “I like your body just the way it is. If you changed it, it wouldn’t be you.” His eyes scanned back to your upset pout, “Small breasts don’t … eh, define you.” 

You pressed your lips together, “But I don’t look like any of the girls you follow or any of my friends. They’re all pretty like that, I look like a prepubescent boy!” 

Your words made him laugh, but after a glare, he quieted down, “I’ll unfollow ‘em if it makes you think less of yourself,” he looked away in search of more words to soothe your insecurity, “You’re my girlfriend, why wouldn’t I like your boobs?”

Your eyes rolled and a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, “I know you like them. But I don’t know how to like them.” You brought your knees up and pressed them against your chest, hugging them close. Toji frowned and scooted closer to you, wrapping a burly arm over your shoulders.

It was silent for a moment until he broke it, “I hate my face.” 

“...What?” You looked over at him, “Why? You have such a nice face…”

He shrugs, “Never liked it. And no matter what people said to me growing up, I still didn’t like it,” he used his free hand to motion to all his imperfections, that you just couldn’t see, “But, I thought, if people can like my mug, why can’t I? So… I’ve learned to like some of it. I don’t like all of it,” his lips pulled into a deeper frown, “But I’m okay enough that I don’t hate myself.” 

Then Toji looked at you, “I think knowing that people love your breasts should motivate you to wanna, I dunno, like them? You don’t need to love them every day,” his hand on your shoulder started creeping into your shirt in a way that made you giggle, “But you shouldn’t hate yourself over something natural.” 

“You’re being so poetic for having your hand down my shirt,” you murmured, a small smile appearing, “But…” You exhaled, “I feel like you’re right.”

“It’s like, learning to be okay every day and loving yourself some days, eh?” Zenin tilted his head back, before turning it to you, “Can I show you how much I like ‘em?” You paused for a moment, giving him the silent okay in his head to pounce. You let out a loud laugh as he pushed you back against the couch, lifting your shirt. 

“Pretty things,” he cooed into your skin, taking the time to delicately run his fingers down the middle of your chest, “I could use you as a pillow, mama.”

“Oh shut up,” you lightly whacked him in the head with one of your hands. Your laughter got quiet when his fingers pinched around one of your nipples, rolling it around a few times just to teasingly stimulate. “Toji.. you don’t have to do this. I know you like them.”

Toji looked up at you and shot you an annoyed look, “I wanna.” That was all he said as he took your other supple breast into his mouth. You felt your body tense, your back rise, and your underwear become increasingly wetter. “I love these things,” he pulled back from sucking for a moment, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on your lips. It was supposed to be a sweet peck, before going back to the meat of the exchange, but your hands anchored around the nape of his neck and kept Mr. Zenin in place. Lips locked intimately, showing yourself to him. 

You knew he was right in some way or another. You didn’t need that fake self-love stuff those big-breasted models tried to sell you. You could love yourself sometimes, but learn to be okay with what you’ve got. 

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Kishibe x reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] A follow up to Sour Times. [ SYNOPSIS ] A simple dinner date goes to shit. [ WORD COUNT ] 2k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, established "relationship", y/n is a civilian, canon typical violence is discussed, alcohol, binge drinking, dubcon, oral sex, jerking off, squirting.

The persistent loneliness you felt that Friday night was a cruel humiliation. The air was still and biting, a constant needly presence on your skin. You had been waiting for fifteen minutes, feet firmly planted on the sidewalk, but it felt like years. Every so often you glanced inside the restaurant, cursing the adorable couples feasting by the window. That was where you belonged. You should have been sitting amongst them, having dinner with Kishibe.

And yet you were shivering outside, feeling like the only person in the world. You looked up at the night sky, stars bleached away by city lights, and noticed it was a new moon.

“That’s so fucked up,” you muttered.

Its absence felt personal.

You flirted with the idea of going home, cozying up on the couch and eating a garbage frozen meal you kept for bouts of laziness and self-loathing. But you couldn’t admit defeat yet. There was always the chance he was running late. Giving him a little grace wouldn’t kill you.

Or maybe it would. The cold penetrated your bones and death felt imminent. You thought of places he could be, namely bars he could be wilting away in. You knew a few off the top of your head, dingy places that smelled like wet leaves and cigarettes. The closest one was only a few blocks away, a walk you could manage.

You tried to keep your cool as you made your way down the street. If he was there you wanted to seem unbothered by his behavior. You hated yourself for clinging to someone who could barely do the bare minimum. Maybe going home and eating a sad meal was what you deserved.

The door to the bar was open. You peered inside, eyes darting around as you searched for Kishibe. It took you no time to find him. He was at the bar with his head down, face buried in his arm. You sat beside him and cleared your throat. He wasn’t roused. You cleared your throat a little louder, but it was no use.

“Hey asshole,” you said, scratching the back of his head.

“Why are you here?” he grumbled.

You ignored his prickly question.

“Did you forget we have a date tonight?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you show up?”

He sighed and lifted his head. He looked exhausted and drunk. Alcohol wafted from his pores. He must have been at the bar for a while.

“Y’know… how sometimes you’ll see something so horrible that it makes you feel like you’ll just taint everything with your presence?”

“I’m not familiar with that feeling, no. Did something fucked up happen?”

He let out a throaty laugh. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess,” you replied flatly. “We can talk about it—”

He cut you off. “Nah. I’d rather spare you for once.”

“I can handle it.”

“You cried when I told you about that possessed girl swallowing razor blades.”

He was right. You did cry, but he also went into way too much detail about how the blood poured from her throat.

You scoffed. “Whatever. You’re still an asshole.” He snickered. “I’m serious. I froze my ass off waiting for you.”

“You could’ve gone inside,” he said before yawning.

“That would have been embarrassing. I’d look like a loser.”

“Good point.” He waved the bartender down and straightened his posture. “Two shots of whisky. Make one a double.”

The bartender stared Kishibe down. “The double better be for your friend. Don’t think I didn’t see you sleeping.”

“Can’t a guy be tired in public?”

The bartender rolled his eyes and went to the other end of the bar after the transaction making an effort to converse with the other patrons. You longed for the ability to walk away, but you were too attached. No one else in the world beckoned such devotion. You snatched the double shot and knocked it back, trying to not think about your overwhelming patheticness.

“I needed time to myself and by the time I realized that it was too late to tell you.”

The whisky burned as it made its way down your throat. You coughed into your elbow. You felt like you were going to hack up a lung. His irritating response did little to soothe your misery.

“What a baby,” he teased.

“I kind of hate you right now.”

“Good. You’re better off without me.”

You wanted to bite him. He spent so much time pursuing you. You thought about the nights where he’d fall asleep in your arms, face buried in your neck, because he couldn’t bear to do it on his own. He’d come to your apartment, his body battered and bleeding, practically begging for affection. And now he was trying to brush you off.

“No shit.” Your skin felt warm and your heart felt marginally softer. Skipping dinner betrayed you. “Are you… Is this how it’s going to be now?”

“I’m not good at making plans.”

“But you’re a professional at dropping by my apartment unannounced in the middle of the night.”

He smiled. “I never planned those visits. They just happened.”

He sensed your discontent.

“Listen. I…” He hung his head. “I wanna be that guy for you, but I’m not good at it.”

“You could try a little harder.” You stared at the purple bruise that bloomed on his cheek bone. “I’m willing to be patient, if that helps.”

He let his hand rest on your thigh. “You’re too easy.”

Your body felt heavy; you had never been so keenly aware of gravity, or how much you adored him. 

“Only when it comes to you,” you said with a slight slur. “It’s ruining my life.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not,” you whined. “I just want you and you make it so hard for no reason.”

You shifted uncomfortably on the barstool. Your grip on it was tenuous. You had a clear vision of yourself sliding off of it, hitting your head and bleeding out in Kishibe’s arms. In your drunken haze you couldn’t help but find it a little romantic.

“My therapist thinks I should stop seeing you.”

He laughed. “Are you gonna listen to them?”

“I have no sense of self-preservation so no,” you joked.

“Well they’re right.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “But I am willing to try. I can probably manage—”

“Can you give me something more than probably?”

He exhaled sharply. “Sure.”

You struggled to wholeheartedly convince yourself he’d keep his word. It did feel like you were strong-arming him into being someone he wasn’t. It was possible you were asking too much of him, but your grip remained firm. He turned his gaze towards you, eyes dark and exhausted. Despite his tone, he looked sincere. He was a walking mixed signal.

“I promise,” he added.

He wanted to believe it so you followed his lead. “Alright. How about a drink to celebrate?”

“I doubt he’ll serve me again.”

“Have faith,” you said with a grin.

Kishibe was right. The bartender looked at you like you were insane when you asked for two more shots so you asked for one double. The bartender didn’t catch onto your plan, or more than likely he didn’t care enough to say anything. You took a gulp from the glass and passed it to Kishibe.

“I’m gonna end up carrying you home. I can feel it.”

You leaned on him. “Let’s leave then. I have beer at home.”

“I shouldn’t,” he said, resting his head on top of yours. “Not after what I did.”

“Shut up. You’re coming over.”

He didn’t take any further convincing. You left the bar without paying your tab. Alcohol tended to bring out the worst in you, especially when you were engulfed in a haze of desire.

Kishibe was right. He did end up carrying you. You clung to his back like a baby koala. You were more than capable of walking on your own, but pretending to be helpless was a joy to indulge in. You were almost disappointed when you arrived at your apartment. You asked him to unlock your door, again leaning into your faux helplessness.

“The beer’s in the fridge,” you said, slumping down into your couch.

He went into the kitchen and returned with two cans of beer. He cracked one open and handed it to you.

“I shouldn’t let you stay,” you mumbled knowing full well he’d be sleeping in your bed.

He took a swig of his beer and smirked. “Then kick me out.”

You pouted. “I’m too lazy.”

He plopped down next to you, letting his arm snake around you. He pulled you close. Your head dropped onto his broad shoulder. He turned his head and inhaled, taking in your scent.

“Your hair smells nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you forgive me?”

“One compliment isn’t going to do it.” You playfully shoved him away, but let your hand linger on his arm, his muscles tense with anticipation. “I need more than that.”

He chuckled before taking a sizable swig of beer.

“More than that, huh?” He got up and got on his knees in front of you, his dark eyes locked on yours. “How about I take off your pants and make you come all over my tongue?”

You sighed and ran your fingers through his hair. “Oh wow. You’re sooo charming. You really got me going right now,” you snarked.

“C’mon. Be nice to me.”

You twirled a strand of his hair between your fingers and gave it a gentle pull. “But it’s more fun to be mean.”

He unbuttoned your pants and unzipped them. You lifted your hips and let him pull them off of you. He nuzzled his face into your cunt, kissing it through your damp underwear. His eyes never left yours. There was a softness to his gaze, a tenderness you only saw when in the comfort of your home. Something in him changed when he was in the safety your apartment granted. So often he looked worn down, weathered by death and devastation, but once he walked through your door his stress drifted away.

“I really do love you.”

“Don’t say that,” he murmured as he tugged at your underwear.

“Why? It’s true.”

“It’s too much pressure.”

“Ser—seriously? You’ve been begging for me to say that forever.”

He slipped two of his calloused fingers into your cunt. “That was one time. And it was after I saw three people get eviscerated at once.”

You rocked your hips against his fingers. “Still counts,” you mumbled.

The ability to speak was becoming difficult. Your brain was fogged by arousal, any form of rational thought was impossible. You wanted to shut it down completely.

“Whatever you say,” he said before pulling out his fingers, sucking your fluids off of them.

Your consciousness melted away as he sucked on your clit. You couldn’t even remember why you were frustrated with him. Dinner was a nonentity. There was no way someone capable of making you feel so good could hurt you.

He paused and you heard the faint sound of a zipper. He grumbled a brief “sorry” before he spat into his hand. He stroked himself, hand gliding up and down his shaft. You ran your fingers through his hair, and guided his head between your thighs.  He rolled his tongue against your swollen cunt as you writhed against the couch, ensnared in mindless ardor.

You arched your back and sighed, your body warming with every languid lick. The weight of your impending orgasm pinned you down, almost suffocating in its intensity. You held his head close as you panted and grunted, unleashing a deluge of fluids. He slipped his tongue between your folds and drank every drop of you in.

He pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

“Pretty sure I got cum on the couch,” he said with a hint of pride.

You exhaled and stared up at the ceiling. “You fuck up our dinner plans… And now… you fuck up my furniture.”

He kissed your thigh. “Mhm.”

“You’re a dog,” you murmured.

“Yeah, but I’m your dog.”

“Then it shouldn’t be so hard to train you.”

You looked down at him. He had a point. At the end of the day, he was yours. Sure he sucked at committing to being an actual boyfriend, but he never fully strayed from you. He always crawled back. You couldn’t give up, not yet.

[fushiglow]

Hiii !! I came across Over The Threshold here on tumblr a few days ago and started reading it and oh my god it’s one of the most beautiful satosugu fanfics I’ve ever read. I’ve never taken a special interest in music as a whole but the way you describe each piece they play makes me wanna cry so bad holy shit. I ALSO HAD A QUESTION. There’s a lot of references about Geto’s music career as an artist, especially with Blue Spring getting brought up by Gojo a lot, I was wondering what your inspiration behind that was? Like, how does it actually sound like? I’ve tried imagining it but I can’t so I’m very curious as if you had an actual song in mind when you wrote its description.

AGAIN, I LOVE YOUR WORK ITS SO GOOD. !!!

Ahh, thank you so much ♥️ This is so meaningful, I really appreciate you reaching out to me to let me know you're enjoying it, and it's extra special knowing that you're connecting to the musical aspects of the fic!

If it's alright, I'm going to take part of my reply to a comment I received to answer your question:

I didn't want to be too prescriptive about the genre or feel of the music in this fic because I want people to imagine whatever is immersive for them. However, 'Where Our Blue Is' was what I was personally thinking of when I chose the title of Suguru's album. I feel like Tatsuya Kitani has that effortlessly cool vibe I imagine for Suguru and he borrows from jazz a lot to create music that straddles the line between complex and commercially viable — that's Suguru in my head!

So yeah, Blue Spring is mostly a reference to "their" song from the anime, but there's a musical element to it, too. In my mind, at least, Suguru was never an "idol" in the strict sense of the word. He was more of a ~serious musical artiste~ (sarcasm but also not) and he worked very independently in terms of the songwriting and production.

We'll explore his career in more detail at a later point in the fic, so I won't say anything else for now, but I hope that gives you a feeling for what I personally intended for Suguru. However, like I said, I'm happy for people to imagine whatever works for them!

My reader-turned-friend @ayahoes created a playlist for the fic with an accompanying guide which includes some incredible musical headcanons about Suguru, Satoru, and even Resonance – and I love every single one! This song in particular is uncannily suitable for Suguru:

So check that out if you want! Thank you for the question, I really enjoy answering this stuff and I'm so happy you're enjoying the fic!

[dazednmatthews]

i’m so genuinely dead fucking serious when i say this picture is my roman empire and i think about it at least six times a day

[puppyeared]

I just skimmed through the art part of your blog and holy bajeebus your LMK art is so beautiful and the headcanon ideas you come up with are so good I wanna steal em-

Kinda wanna see like a part 2 of the little angst you did between MK and Macaque a while ago. It's so interesting and I wanna see Macaque's reaction in your art style. (You don't have to of course, it's just a suggestion [idk if i spelled that right])

Thanks for reading and hope you have a good day/night!

Hope this is to your liking ^^

Part one here

[milktea-grn]

george.

ok look nobody asked for this but i’ll say it because we are literally in the FINAL stretch and i am tired.

this event was a pre planned thing, tickets to it were selling over a month ago. obviously if this event was something that just came up, george wouldn’t choose to do it over the meetup. you can’t even pretend george hasn’t literally based his life off the meetup for the past years. he is more excited than any of us combined blah blah blah we all know this. so i cannot take anyone who’s saying “george would rather xyz instead of meet dream” seriously because. bffr.

ANYWAY it was not set in stone that the meetup would happen this weekend, we just assumed that, and it turns out it’s happening in the next weekend or weekend after instead WHICH MAKES SENSE because mcc, this event, sapnap still needing to fly back to florida, all that. i get that it’s annoying that it was pushed back one week for us but we’ve been waiting for this for YEARS and a few months ago i was at the bottom of the barrel dooming in my head about whether it was ever going to happen at ALL so i think we can handle one-two weeks. it’s one-two weeks. we can say that the meetup is happening in one-two weeks, the face reveal is happening in one-two weeks. do u know how close that is. the visa announcement has happened, dream and george will live the rest of their lives happier than they have ever been like COME ONNN. i just don’t see the point in blaming anybody for anything that was something they all already knew about and not even worth blaming anyone about

[binders-and-beanies]

.

[s1xseasonsandamov1e]

not to be all typical teenage “i hate my parents” but do they just lose all sense of empathy the second they turn 50? is that like. a thing?

[thevirginslvt]

if i had nickels every time my dad said he wouldn’t mind one of *his* friends to be his son in law i would have two nickels, which isn’t much but it’s weird that it happened twice

[starbuck]

The way both Bolsa and Eladio were 100% aware that Gus wanted revenge against the Salamancas and were even reasonably certain that he had started actively killing them, but, because he was so profitable to the business, they went out of their way to gaslight the entire family about this being the case on multiple occasions, only to be shocked and horrified when it turned out that the revenge thing applied to them as well.

[sbc-moved]

I love how. Intense and serious the strikers art makes him look I don’t think he’s ever looked cooler

I have never played a single. Sports spin off but I’m obsessed with all of them especially ESPECIALLY strikers. He’s incredible. I love when they make him like. Idk competitive(?)