Source

— Jenny Slate, Little Weirds

#boop

Reblog if your blog is boopable-safe so you can get all the (probably new) achievements. I don’t care about notes I just want boops

can i be real with you all. ties are perhaps the most sexual article of clothing a person can wear. like that is just a leash and collar.

Dad! Sukuna

Sukuna blinks in surprise at the sight in front of him.

His little brat was undoubtedly a splitting image of him. Of course, she was born with your features as well— something Sukuna adored a lot, but his hair took prominence in her genetics.

But your little girl was currently having an artistic phase. Maybe that explains why she’s covered head to toe in doodles. You’re mad at her because now you’re the one left with having to scrub them off of her, but pause when she stumbles to her father.

The four armed beast looks at her with a raised brow and she simply gives a cheeky smile.

“Twinsies!” She declares. It takes him a moment as he examines the marks she’s made on her face.

She was imitating his very own markings.

Piercing right through his cold heart with her adorable antics is something’s she’s definitely gotten from her mother. In a moment of pride, he scoops her up in his arm with a grin, “twinsies indeed, you little brat.”

He wipes off a smudge of an ink from her chubby cheek with one of his hands and she looks at you from over his shoulder, “mama! Twinsies!”

You nod, holding back tears at the adorable sight, “Yes baby, you look just like papa!”

She smiles proudly and you hide the wet washcloth behind your back, letting them have their little moment.

you and gojo satoru are the perfect couple. even if nobody else could match your energy, he most definitely always would. you don't remember a single moment when you're not in sync with him.

you're laughing at something stupid? he's right next to you, doubled over with tears in his eyes. you're telling him about your day? better believe he'd be nodding along and interrupting you to ask questions just to know every little detail.

you're listening to old disney songs while baking? he's right behind you, arms effortlessly manoeuvring you across the kitchen floor, dipping and twirling you around while singing at the top of his lungs (rather horrendously) along with you.

you want ice cream at midnight? he's on it! (with some for him too, obviously) feeling clingy? he'll shower you in all the affection you've asked for and more, absolutely refusing to let you go. you just told him a really cheesy pick up line? better believe he's gonna blush, giggle and kick his feet before replying with an even worse one.

and oh boy, get ready to be tossed around like a sack of potatoes when he's around. he picks you up randomly all the time, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck just to hear those sweet laughs from you.

he's never believed in soulmates until he found you, to be honest.

you made him feel heard and known. you saw him for who he really was, and you reciprocated his love in a way he never would've imagined anyone could. you loved him for more than his exterior (and you most definitely match his freak).

he'd also never experienced love at first sight until he saw you.

he was absolutely floored by how gorgeous you were, your smile so radiant it made him grin right back with a dopey look in his eyes. you stole his breath away.

shit, he didn't even know your name at the time, yet he could swear he was in love with you.

satoru really loves every little thing about you. he would worship the ground you walk on if you let him. he would bring down the moon from the sky if you asked him to.

this man is whipped, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

i stay up late to be happy for a few more hours

give stelle a small bird to take care of

she got the bird somehow but what now

My new au

Eremite 🌱

忘了发画完的。。。

I am in love with your writing 🥺

i do (the practice round) — ft. gojo satoru

satoru doesn’t drink often—but when he does, it’s always because there’s something heavy on his mind. you figure out just what it is as you shove a wasted satoru into your car in the middle of the night

before you read: fem reader ; non curse au, suguru never defects ; established relationship ; drunk gojo, mentions of alcohol ; mentions of marriage and proposals ; banter

notes: i am binging jjk season 2 and i think satoru’s bum ass would definitely ruin his own proposal and never even be aware of it

Sometimes, you appreciate Suguru’s company. He makes it tolerable to deal with the handful that is Satoru. With a boyfriend as…eccentric as Satoru is, having someone as a voice of reason keeps you feeling sane sometimes. But sometimes, you also hate Suguru.

Right now, it’s the latter. You wouldn’t consider yourself on the list of his top fans now that he’s left you with a drunk, stumbling, and absolutely difficult Satoru to wrangle into your car and take home.

“Stupid Suguru,” you grumble, “I told him not to let you drink too much.”

Curse Suguru for leaving you for some random woman at the bar, and curse him for letting your lightweight boyfriend drink as much as he has. Satoru doesn’t even drink often—and certainly not this much.

You can’t help but wonder what got him here in the first place.

“Hey,” Satoru snaps, swatting your hand away as you shove his six-plus-foot-figure into the passenger seat, “don’t touch me. My wife will be mad.”

You pause, blinking before looking at him amused.

“You don’t have a wife, Satoru,” you snort. A small part of you thinks he’s an idiot, of course, but another part of you feels a thumping making itself abundantly clear in your ribcage, somewhere deep in your heart.

Wife. You like the sound of that, you think. You walk around the car, entering the driver’s side as Satoru sits and simmers in his despair.

“Don’t rub it in,” he whines, slumping against the dashboard of your car as he groans. “I don’t have a wife yet. Been trying for ages.”

“Trying what—”

“Every time I think v’got the perfect chance, s’ruined by somethin’ or another.”

“What are you talking about—”

He pulls something shiny out, dangerously at risk of dropping it with how wobbly his hands are from the alcohol in his system. You pause. Blink. Stiffen. Sit there in absolute silence as he stares at the ring in his hands woefully.

“Had it for weeks,” he says pitifully. And then, because he’s just as wasted as you suspected, he holds it out to you. You can’t find it in you to move, just staring blankly at it. “Think she’ll like it?”

“Who?” You croak, playing along.

“My girlfriend,” he grumbles. “You’re not very bright.”

“And you’re not very polite,” you snap back half heartedly, ears still ringing from his words just moments ago. Think she’ll like it?

He means you, of course. He doesn’t realize he’s speaking to the very person he’s supposed to present the ring with, but you suppose now you understand just why he’s taken to drinking so much this evening. He must be quite on edge as of late.

“Polite my ass,” he huffs under his breath, pulling you from out of your thoughts.

“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” You challenge.

He does. He kisses his girlfriend (you) senseless quite often, in fact. Maybe more than he should…perhaps even at places he should not.

“I do,” he says haughtily. “My girlfriend loves me. She’s obsessed with me, actually. She couldn’t live without me. She kisses me on the mouth all the time. Among other places too.”

You want to slap his shoulder at that last comment—it just about takes you everything not to. “Your girlfriend is crazy for kissing that mouth of yours,” you tease.

Satoru doesn’t appreciate you talking poorly of his girlfriend (you) like that. It’s offensive. You can tell as much from the purely insulted look on his face as he gasps, “don’t speak about my baby like that! This is why you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I do, actually,” you grin. He doesn’t believe you—the disbelieving snort he lets out instantly would offend you if it was anyone else, maybe. But Satoru pulls a fond, easy smile across your lips.

It feels like muscle memory.

“You have a boyfriend?” He asks incredulously.

“I do,” you grin.

“You love him?”

“I do,” you confirm. He looks unconvinced, but shrugs anyway.

“Is he a loser or something? Dating you?”

“He is,” you grin wider, “a total loser.”

“Makes sense,” he snickers. And then his attention is back to the ring in his hand, his long, nimble fingers fiddling with it before he murmurs, “I hope she likes it.”

“I’m sure she will,” you say softly, biting your lip as your eyes feel just a bit misty.

You mean it, too. He’ll never know that, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“You really think so?” He asks quietly. Shy. Satoru has never been shy—he’s so many things. Loud. Outspoken. Stubborn. Maybe a little shameless. But shy doesn’t usually describe him.

He seems to unlock a few hidden sides of himself around you. You think you want to unlock a few more.

“I do,” you say for the third time that night.

It’s practice, you think, for the real thing.

Imagine revealing on your tenth anniversary “btw i actually knew you were promising weeks before you did it. You showed me the ring and everything.” He’d claw his eyes out lolll