Almost Salted The Boiling Water Im Using To Sterilize My Dildo

gojo satoru would be such a pouty, jealous, and petty husband, especially when the two of you have a child.

what do you mean he has to watch you effortlessly lift your giggling baby girl into the air with your arms reaching out, and listen to her delighted squeals as you catch her and tickle her tiny belly? why haven't you ever done that to him? he's sulking, arms folded over his chest and eyes narrowed as if he does not realize the absurdity of his complaint; who's going to be able to lift up a huge man at the ridiculous height of six foot three?

what do you mean he has to watch you both come home from the mall, a shopping bag in your hand as you reveal a matching set of pajamas? his jaw drops, eyes widening in disbelief as you and your daughter emerge from the bedroom adorned in identical hello kitty pajamas, faces covered in masks and cucumber slices perched on your eyes. he slumps further into the couch as you two pose for selfies, looking absolutely adorable together. truth is, he loved hello kitty as much as his child did, he just . . . might have never had the courage to voice it out!

what do you mean he had to return home after a tedious fight, only to find you and your daughter cutely nestled on the couch, watching a movie together while cuddling?! he also wanted to watch boss baby :(

you quietly open the door to your shared bedroom and tiptoe inside, hoping not to wake satoru. to your surprise, you notice he was still awake, lying on the bed with his arms defiantly crossed over the blanket. his lips are jutted out in a pout, blue eyes narrowed as they glare at you.

“well? are you going to read me my bedtime story?”

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A Hawks appreciation post 💖💖💖

New painting!!

"Love Always"

I miss spelled Toujours 😔

cw ✩ ˖  ݁ . domestic abuse (reader is married). zombie apocalypse au. mentions of blood + bruises. violence. death

you and sukuna ryomen had spoken twice before all hell broke loose.

the first time was in front of the elevators — you held an ice pack to your bruised eye, gentle smile on your face despite your predicament as you softly waved at his kid brother, who smiled wide at you, one of his front teeth missing.

“what happened to your face, miss?”

he had smacked him ever so lightly on the back of his head, caused him to yelp out an ouchie, ‘kuna!

“you don’t ask ladies that, brat.”

but your smile had grown, happy to have a conversation. “it’s okay,” you had told them, looking from the tall stranger then to his child. “i’m just really clumsy. i ran into a door.”

the elevator dinged and sukuna ryomen had a feeling you were lying.

the second time was on the roof of the apartment building, late into the night, no adorable toothless kid in sight. your lip was busted that time around.

he was on his second cigarette when you popped up.

“want one?” he inhaled, savored the smoke, exhaled.

“no, thank you. my husband isn’t a fan of the smell — so i should probably leave.” you had laughed, every bit melancholic and unsure.

he figured out the reason of your bruised eye and bloody lip that night.

without hesitation, he dropped the remaining half of his cigarette and stepped on it with his boot.

you were a little dazed, stuck in place.

to have a stranger do something kind for you.

“is,” you cleared your throat almost awkwardly, “is your son already asleep?”

“he’s my brother,” he had shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat, let out a puff of winter air. “his name’s yuuji. i’m sukuna. we live in 104.”

you had told him your name. apartment 107. the fact you only —

“don’t take care of that kid. what’s he to you?”

your husband sits across from you a few feet away, elbows resting on his knees, bottle of beer in hand.

you sit next to a sleeping yuuji, hand brushing his pink hair away from his face — you had made sure to clean all the grime from his chubby cheeks with a baby wipe. had fed him a portion of your food. had put him to sleep as his older brother looked for supplies on the upper floors.

“he doesn’t have to be anything of me. he’s a child that needs to be taken care of.”

your husband tsks and stands, throws his beer bottle to the side, makes you wince.

“don’t,” he grabs your forearm roughly, makes you stand up. “take care of the fuckin’ kid.”

you grit your teeth. “don’t touch me.”

your husband laughs before sukuna ryomen appears — grabs him by the collar of his shirt and drags him away from the room on the first floor you started occupying after the infection spread.

he throws your husband on the ground rather roughly, straddles him and throws a nasty punch to the side of his face — another to his nose, mouth, the other side of his head. then, he looses coordination and punches aimlessly — until your husband’s face is disfigured and gushing blood.

“didn’t you fucking hear her, scum?”

you stare with your mouth agape, tears brimming your eyes as you watch sukuna’s grey shirt get stained red.

when he’s done, he turns to you.

you can’t help but to see him as a knight. a savior.

“thank you,” you throw yourself into his arms, sob uncontrollably into his chest. wrap your arms around his body tightly. “thank you, sukuna.”

his hesitancy is palpable, until he slowly wraps his arms around you. mouth dry, knuckles busted and aching as his adrenaline subsides. as he’s wrapped in a blanket of comfort. softness. the faint smell of you.

he swallows and the truth hits his stomach — he’s willing to do anything for you.

inumaki toge please let me sit on your lap.

So I can't grow plants, but I do pretty good at keeping our raised garden crops alive. Dad does the hard part, I just keep them watered. These are our pepper plants.

Amazon delivery days are ALWAYS a good day for Tear. Once the slaves humans have removed their useless junk, Tear recieves a new box.

The sitting test:

And then the half-lay test:

And finally, the loaf when it is worthy of his highness:

congratulations! you’re now a pirate. your seventh most recent emoji is the symbol on your flag. mine is ™️

New project!!!