Nanami's Daughter Went Through An Identity Crisis At The Age Of Four.

“what’s your type?” caleb stops in his tracks as a phone acting as a microphone was shoved in his face. 

he was walking back to his dorm after taking you back to yours, the interviewer looked to be about a sophomore. he knew that the question was harmless so he smiles as he grabs the phone and looks straight at the camera. 

“i have a girlfriend.” 

“oh.” the sophomore deflates before she perks up once more. “so what’s your type?” 

“my girlfriend.” caleb replies, the sophomore blinks as she asks another question. 

“what does she look like then?” 

caleb looks faraway, dazed as he replies to the mic with a dopey smile on his face. 

“she looks like my girlfriend.”

the sophomore furrows her brows before she looks at her cameraman and gets to the point. 

“so… what would you rate me on a scale of one to ten?” 

the daydreamy look on caleb’s face shattered as he looked at the sophomore as if that was the most absurd question he has ever heard. 

“yeah so… i won’t rate you.” finally. he says something not about his girlfriend. 

“you can’t rate me at all?” caleb nods, confirming the sophomore’s words. “yep.” he emphasized. 

“what would you rate your girlfriend on a scale of one to ten?” a charming smile appears on caleb’s face as he shows his clear phone case that had a picture of you beaming brightly at him. 

“she’s not even on the scale because she’s so beautiful.” he sighs, dreamily. he can feel the awkwardness of the interviewer as she tries digging for more answers but gets nothing.

all caleb cared about was his beautiful girlfriend.

- - -

the next thing you knew, caleb’s face showed up on your moments page with your university’s local celebrity and his video garnered millions of views with thousands of comments cooing at your lovestruck boyfriend. 

“really, caleb?” you asked as he hugged your waist, head resting on top of your hips as he scrolls on his own phone. 

“what?” he asks, having no context of your question before he grins at the sound of his voice on loop on your phone. 

“hehe. just gotta let everyone know i’m taken.” he says before nuzzling his head onto your hip, pressing a small kiss on your skin.

after the video went viral, the sophomore reached out wanting to interview the two of you to which caleb politely declined. he thinks that the internet doesn’t deserve to see your beauty (you point out that he revealed your face in the video but he says it doesn’t count.)

note/s: inspired by a tiktok audio i heard

CUTE CAMGIRL GETS NAILED BY NERDY ROOMMATE?

lights, camera, action!

starring: roommate!Gojo x camgirl!Reader

content: mdni, modern au, gojo is obsessed but sweet, instant crush, falling in love, masturbation, jealousy, Sukuna cameo, teasing, making out, back shots, doggy style, unprotected piv sex, creampie, aftercare

art by @chu-cho + divider by @bronzewasp

roommate!Gojo whose been obsessed with you before you even moved in - he just didn't know it

roommate!Gojo who didn't really need a roommate when he doesn't even pay rent for the penthouse he already owned, but after so many lonely nights with no one to talk to (and considering pets were out of the question since he can't even keep a plant alive) he was more than a little taken by the idea of having someone to come home to who was stuck with him for a twelve month lease

roommate!Gojo who plasters ads online, exchanging emails with strangers until he lands on sweet little you, asking you to meet him for brunch the next weekend, despite Suguru being convinced you had to be a catfish hoping for cheap rent

roommate!Gojo who thinks you're an angel when you slide in the seat across from him - even if you laugh in his face when he calls you one

roommate!Gojo who listens leaning halfway across the table with his chin propped up by his hand, enraptured by every word that leaves your mouth, the way you giggle at his lame jokes and roll your eyes at his lamer flirtations, only getting serious when you awkwardly admit you have an unconventional job that meant you'd be home most of the time, although something about your voice is familiar, like maybe he heard it before, bumped into you somewhere

roommate!Gojo who pulls out the lease for you to sign then and there, cheeks already heating up at the thought of you walking around his apartment in tiny shorts and thin tank tops, or even better, your figure drowned in one of his t-shirts, padding into the kitchen barefoot and bending over to grab a drink from the fridge, well, actually, he's imagining what a cute story this would make to tell your future children someday but even he could admit that was probably a little much

roommate!Gojo who figures out what your unconventional job is one week into this new living arrangement after helping you get your new room all set up, scrolling on his phone in his own bed and debating on asking you on a late night ice cream run when he hears your voice through the wall, all cute and chirpy, and yeah, he shouldn't snoop, but perhaps he just-so-happened to press his ear against the wall to listen in when all the pieces clicked together

roommate!Gojo who has never typed faster in his life than when he's searching up his favorite faceless camgirl, pulling up the stream just to confirm his suspections - and thank the fucking stars he somehow got this lucky, listening to your laugh through the wall and on his phone

roommate!Gojo who ends up fucking his fist by the end of the show, because even if you never showed above your shoulders on stream, he's picturing what pretty faces you were making now that he knew it was you, barely able to keep his moans to himself as he strokes himself in rough, harsh thrusts, bucking his hips up and wishing it was your palm wrapped around him instead, or fuck, the pretty little cunt you had on display on screen

roommate!Gojo who blushes wildly the next morning he sees you, and you just giggle, giving him a quick wink, like maybe it wasn't just his imagination your little show had been louder than usual, your gasps and whimpers meant to be heard through the wall you shared

roommate!Gojo who thinks you're the perfect girl roommate - you listen to all his ramblings and rants, curl up next to him on the couch for movie (and Digimon) marathons, ask to bake sweets together when you're bored or let him drag you around some afternoons to shop and eat, casually holding his hand in public, resting your head against him and letting him throw an arm around your shoulders, and yeah, okay, you always pay rent on time (although his generous donations probably make up half of it)

roommate!Gojo who is, of course, devastated to have to spend even just a few hours apart and leave you alone in the penthouse to attend a stupid work party with Suguru, ignoring his friend's teasing about his crush, but a cup of spiked punch later, he's wondering why he hasn't just made a move yet, asked you to be his, when he gets the notification you're live again

roommate!Gojo who almost pukes when he clicks on it and realizes you're not alone, some asshole with too many muscles and even more tattoos manhandling you into a mating press on your soft mattress, faces carefully concealed out of shot as usual while you get speared open on his obscene length

roommate!Gojo who excuses himself from the party, an emergency at home, which really meant he needed to get there and throw that fucking prick out and show you anything that guy could do, he could do better, but by the time he made it through the front door, the jerk was gone, only finding you sleepily sprawled out on the couch watching some reality show

roommate!Gojo who just blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat when you yawn and sit up as soon as you notice him, stretching your arms and letting your shirt ride up to expose a thin strip of skin, while you just tilt your head to the side as if to ask if he was going to say anything - as if you knew he knew about your guest star

roommate!Gojo who bridges the distance in a few short strides, getting down on his knees in front of the couch to cup your face and capture your lips in a starving kiss, hard enough you almost fall back onto the couch cushions, but you're giggling in-between kisses at the way his glasses keep slipping down the bridge of his nose, fingers tangling back in his hair, tugging him in closer so your canines can nip at his bottom lip

roommate!Gojo who's the one throwing you onto your bed half an hour later, his cock throbbing painfully in the too-tight confines of his boxers, aching for your warmth after barely being able to stop himself from cumming in his pants ten times just from making out, but the sight of your glistening cunt in person when he peels your blue lace panties down your thighs almost does him in again

roommate!Gojo who thinks he must've got into a car crash and died on the way home, because he must be in heaven when he finally slides the first few inches of his thick cock inside, groaning as he forces his way past the first ring of resistance, his grip on your hips nearly bruising as he grinds in deeper, overwhelmed by the pretty arch of your back and you on your hands and knees, whining and ready to take him, your soft ass squirming while your walls grip and suck him in so sinfully

roommate!Gojo who fucks you like you're still on camera, pounding into you until you're crying out his name loud enough for half the building to hear, his hips probably leaving marks on your ass and the lewd smacks of skin-on-skin and your pretty wet slick dripping down your thighs only encouraging to go faster, harder, give you more until there was nothing left of him to give

roommate!Gojo who knows what spots to hit to make you shudder, you thighs trembling as you whine and mewl, making soft, sweet promises of something he can't even fully process, too focused on making you cum harder than you ever have before, his grip on your hip the only thing holding your body up as he reaches his other hand around to play with your surely needy clit, his new favorite toy, massaging precise patterns and calculating just the right amount of pressure to have you unravelling into putty in his palm

roommate!Gojo who can't help cumming inside you when your body shivers and you break into what feels like a billion pieces for him to put back together with searing kisses scattered across your back, grunting your name and mumbling something half-incoherent about how long he waited for this, for you

roommate!Gojo who carries you to the bath afterward, still pressing kisses everywhere while he cleans you up, washing your hair and scrubbing both of you clean, leaning back against the porcelain with you on his chest when you glance up at him to fix his crooked glasses with a grin, pressing a peck to his jaw and asking if he wants to do it again - with an audience

a/n: this was based on an anon ask I accidentally deleted sorry >.<

inspired by this post!

you going on a work trip was the worst thing that could’ve happened to your little family.

you and girldad!sylus’ little bundle of joy (or, currently, despair) wails in his thick arms, chubby face scrunched up as big, sad tears stream down her flushed cheeks.

he tries to bounce her, follows all of the motions you usually do: cooing, rocking, bouncing, taking numerous laps around that expansive house, putting on that white noise machine that usually has her out in minutes.

nothing is working.

sylus is resilient — if something is wrong, he’s determined to fix it. the deep(er) bags under his eyes are evident of that. issue is, his little girl is just as resilient, if not more so.

the n109 zone’s princess is beyond displeased, and it’s obvious why, because he feels the same way: she misses you.

they both miss you.

he heaves a quiet sigh. “it’s okay, it’s okay, sweetie. papa’s here. and mama will be home soon, hm? she’ll play with you and sing to you and—”

he stops.

wait. duh. sylus can just sing.

babies don’t know what vocal keys are, right? and when you sing, it always soothes that viscous little temper of hers, screeching cries wilting down to tiny sniffles and happy coos.

he’ll just follow your lead.

sylus shifts his darling girl in his arms, tucking her a little close to his face and chest. his brain flips through an endless list of songs, filtering out the ones that would be most effective and appropriate.

he picks out a tune he knows you sing often and gently clears his throat. it’s now or never.

if this doesn’t work . . he doesn’t know what will.

sylus starts to hum, low in his throat and definitely off-key. it sounds nothing like your heavenly voice, and while he knows it, he really hopes his lovely little girl won’t.

her cries stutter to a pause, wide, teary crimson eyes locking onto sylus’ weary pair, and her hands loosen from their angry fists.

. . .

it’s working. she’s not crying, and—

slap!

one tiny hand comes up to cover his mouth, stubby brows furrowed in a way that scarily resembles a certain wife.

your daughter starts to babble, as if she’s scolding him for such horrendous singing. well. he never claimed to be beyoncé, now did he?

but it did work, his pride be damned.

she stops crying, the bright red flush slowly starting to leave her round cheeks as sylus trudges his way back to the nursery and sets her down in her crib.

he wastes no time pulling his phone out and calling you, using one big hand to push his glasses up and rub at his face as he plops down in the rocking chair.

“. . hello?”

your voice sends a jolt of energy through him like he just snorted a line of coke, and he looks up at the phone screen, greeted by the sight of your worried face and the blurred background of your hotel room. “what’s wrong?”

he chuckles, a weary sound that does jack shit to convince you. “nothing, beloved, it’s just . . our daughter is very opinionated, yes?”

you sigh, but a small smile creeps onto your face regardless. “really? what’d she do now?”

you two talk until sylus’ eyelids get unbearably heavy, his responses teetering off into quiet “mhms” and “yeahs” and “mms”. if you listen hard enough, you can even hear the faint snores of your darling babygirl. and you’ve only been on the phone for fifteen minutes.

“goodnight, sylus.”

his favorite show is on

This long-distance relationship just wasn’t working for Sukuna anymore.

He can’t see you. Can’t touch you. Can’t put you in a headlock, smack your ass, bite you, or flick your forehead. At this point, are you two even together, or is this just an overpriced pen-pal situation?

He calls you clingy, but let’s be real—anyone with half a brain cell and a functioning set of eyes can see that he’s the real problem here. And the worst part? He knows exactly what he’s doing. He just doesn’t care. He does not want to be saved.

This man is glued to his phone every single minute, refreshing your messages like his life depends on it. And if you don’t answer fast enough? He turns into a grumpy, overgrown toddler, making everyone around him suffer.

At this point, it’s not just him begging you to visit—it’s his friends, his brother, maybe even some strangers off the street. They’re exhausted. They have had enough. Somebody, please, for the love of all things holy, put this man out of his misery and just go see him before they all lose their minds.

After two months, you finally decided to just surprise Sukuna. It was early in the morning, and you didn’t tell a single soul you were coming. Not even his friends— they would’ve blown your cover out of sheer relief. You missed him too, sure… just not as much as he missed you.

You let yourself in with your key, slipping inside like a thief in the night (except this was your man and your house, so..?). He was still asleep, sprawled out on the bed in nothing but black boxers and a tight black T-shirt that was clinging to him a little too well.

And this? This right here is where you questioned everything.

How did you pull this man? Seriously. What divine force was on your side that day? He looked so damn good, it was criminal. His tattoos. The way that shirt stretched over his muscles. The black boxers. The absolute mess that was his pink hair. It was all too much.

You wanted to jump his bones on sight, but you contained yourself. Barely.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you gently rub his back, whispering softly, "Sukuna… baby, wake up." He doesn’t move a muscle. When he’s asleep, he’s as still as stone, completely unreachable—unless, of course, the air shifts in the room just right. Then, he’s up in an instant, sharp and alert, like a predator on the prowl. But right now? Nothing. Not a twitch.

You try again, your voice softer this time, "Love... baby... Suku... wake up... mm, I'm here..."

At the sound of your voice, he stirs. A low grunt escapes his throat, and his eyes flutter open, but the confusion on his face is enough to make your heart melt. He blinks, disoriented, as if trying to process what’s real. And in that moment, you can’t help but smile. He’s so adorable, even in his most groggy, unguarded state.

The fact that you—just you—can see him like this, can call him any type of names and still think he's the cutest thing alive, fills you with a warmth you didn’t know you needed.

He groggily shifts, trying to register what’s going on. But when his eyes finally meet yours, that familiar spark of recognition flickers in them. It’s like everything else fades away.

“Y/N?”

His voice is always deep, but in the morning, it’s something else entirely—low and rough, the kind that you can feel vibrating in your chest.

“Did you miss me?” you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips.

For a good thirty seconds, he just stares at you, blinking slowly, his red eyes still heavy with sleep. And then—without a word—he grabs you, pulling you down onto the bed with him.

The hug alone could’ve crushed you. His arms lock around you like a vice, his grip unrelenting, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. His face remains serious, unreadable—but inside? Oh, inside, he’s jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning.

He is this close to giggling, to kicking his legs like a teenage girl with a hopeless crush.

But he won’t. Absolutely not.

Instead, he just holds you tighter, burying his face in your neck, pretending like he’s not about to combust from how happy he is.

You can feel the way his breathing evens out against your skin, like he’s grounding himself with your presence. His nose brushes along your neck, slow and almost lazy, but there's a little tremble in the way he exhales, like he still can’t believe you're actually here.

“I thought I was dreaming,” he mutters, voice muffled into your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp the way he likes. “You always say that when I show up.”

“Because I never think I deserve it,” he says, so quietly you almost miss it.

Your heart clenches.

You pull back just enough to look at him. His eyes are still heavy-lidded, lashes fanning over flushed cheeks, but there's something softer in them now—something he only shows you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You’ve been acting like a feral cat in a thunderstorm for two months straight. I was afraid your friends were gonna start sending me ransom letters.”

That earns the tiniest twitch of a smile. Barely there. But you caught it.

“I wasn’t that bad,” he grumbles.

“Oh, you were worse,” you laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Suddenly, he pulled back—and in one swift motion, yanked his shirt off and tossed it somewhere across the room.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He smirked like the devil himself. “Now that you’re here,” he said, voice dropping, “let’s get down to business, woman.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Business? I just got here.”

“And I’ve been waiting months,” he said, already reaching for you again. “You think I’ve been sitting here practicing patience and self-control? No, sweetheart. I’ve been suffering.”

“Suffering?” you scoffed, though your cheeks were already warm.

“Agonizing,” he corrected, deadly serious. “Like a man dying in the desert. And you—” he pointed at you dramatically, “—are the only oasis that can quench my thirst.”

You stared at him.

He stared back, completely unapologetic.

And then you burst out laughing. “You’ve been watching those trashy romance dramas again, haven’t you?”

“Shut up and take your clothes off,” he growled, yanking you back into his chest.

--

Well, he put you through it.

The second things started, he didn’t let up—wouldn’t even let you move. Like he was trying to make up for all the time apart in one night. No breaks, no mercy. Just Sukuna, with that feral look in his eyes, making it very, very clear just how much he’d missed you.

When it comes to sex with him, there’s no such thing as “taking it slow.” He’s intense. Greedy sadistic bastard.

By the end of it, you were completely spent—legs shaking, voice hoarse, body humming with overstimulation—and he? He came so hard he passed out on top of you. Just collapsed like a full-grown jungle cat that wore itself out hunting. Arms wrapped around you, dead weight pressing you into the mattress, and a low satisfied grunt rumbling in his chest.

So yeah. He missed you. A lot.

You laid there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath, hair a mess, skin sticky and flushed, heart still racing. His head was tucked into your neck, breathing deep and slow, already asleep.

You shifted a little beneath him, tapping at his back.

“Sukuna. Hey—get off, you’re heavy.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.

“Suku. Babe. You’re crushing my lungs.”

A beat of silence. Then, a soft, almost childish grumble: “Mine…”

You blinked. “What?”

He nuzzled deeper into your neck, voice sleepy and muffled. “Mine. Stay still.”

“You’re literally crushing me—”

“Die then. Still mine.”

You snorted, trying not to laugh, even as he wrapped one of his massive arms tighter around your waist like a damn seat belt. It was useless. You were trapped. Claimed. Claimed by a half-conscious, overgrown menace of a man with not enough self-control.

“…Fine,” you sighed, brushing his hair back from his face. “But if you drool on me again, I swear to god—”

Extra:

3 hours later...

You were still drifting between sleep and reality, body aching in all the right places. Sukuna was no better—completely sprawled beside you, arm draped over your waist like you were his favorite plushie. His breathing was slow, warm against your shoulder. He hadn’t even moved yet.

Eventually, he lifted his head groggily from your skin, eyes heavy-lidded, hair wild like he lost a fight with a thunderstorm. Lips red and swollen, scratch marks visible on his chest and neck. He looked wrecked.

In the best possible way.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of him.

“Why are you laughing?” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep and pure bass.

You were about to answer, still giggling like a fool under the covers, when—

BANG.

His bedroom door slammed open.

“Oh my god, it’s too early for this—Sukuna, please, stop moping—” “Bro, we brought you breakfast ‘cause you haven’t eaten in like, two days—” “IF YOU’RE GONNA DIE OF HEARTBREAK, DO IT QUIETLY—”

The room exploded with voices as Uraume, Gojo, Geto, and Toji stormed in like a damn intervention squad, expecting to find Sukuna in his usual spiral: half-dead, face-down in takeout, and angrily listening to toxic love songs.

What they didn't expect… was you.

Or him. Completely naked. Tangled up with you in the aftermath of what could only be described as biblical levels of destruction.

They all froze.

Eyes wide. Mouths open. Silence like a slap.

Sukuna sat up, completely bare-assed and utterly unfazed. He looked over his shoulder at them slowly—murder in his eyes, sleep still in his bones.

You scrambled, yanking the blanket up to cover your very exposed self, cheeks flaming.

He didn’t care. Not a blink of shame.

“Get the fuck out,” Sukuna grunted, dragging the comforter up higher over you—only you. His back muscles flexed like they were doing it on purpose. “You can scream later. She just got here. And I’m not done.”

Geto immediately spun on his heel. “Nope. Nope. I saw ass. I’m out.”

Gojo gagged dramatically, covering his eyes. “I think I just went blind. Why is your whole spine flexing like that?!?”

Toji just whistled low, grinning. “Damn. No wonder he’s been out of commission.”

Uraume didn’t even flinch, deadpan as always. “Do you want me to bring water or a priest?”

“DOOR.” Sukuna roared.

It slammed shut behind them.

You lay back down, breathless with laughter, still hidden under the blanket. Sukuna rolled over, eyes half-lidded, grin spreading across his stupidly handsome face.

<><>

an: i had a plot and I lost it so.....

୨୧ — "Tooojiii~", you chime, skipping up to him before wrapping your arms around one of his massive biceps. The sheer size difference making you look even smaller.

He arches an eyebrow, that smirk you adore so much playing at his lips, "what're you plotting?"

"Nothing at all," you say sweetly, your finger tracing the defined muscles of his arm, "Juuuust taking in the view~."

He snorts, but there's amusement in those sharp Zenin eyes, "The view, huh? Sure it's not just an excuse to cop a feel?"

"M’nope! I was just admiring how the sunrise today makes you look extra dangerous~"

"Dangerous, huh?" The big bad Toji Zenin grins, amused by how you can make even that sound like a compliment, "Most people don't say that while grinning like they've found a puppy."

"Well, I'm not most people," you giggle while pressing your cheek against the warmth of his arm, "And your arms are way better than any puppy. Now up, please ~!" you can’t stop the dumb grin on your face when he flexes his bicep deliberately under your grip.

"Tch. You're worse than a kid." He grumbles as he effortlessly hoists you up with his arm, your feet dangling. Toji huffs, but there's no hiding the flush creeping up his neck, "And flattery will get you nowhere."

Despite his gruff demeanor, you know he secretly loves how you get all stary eyed at his strength.

You grin cheekily, "i dunno, I think it’s gotten me pretty fa-."

"Papa! UP!" A tiny voice suddenly demands. You both look down to see little Megumi- the very proof of how far your flattery has gotten you with Toji Zenin. Your sons arms were stretched high above his head in a perfect mirror of your earlier pose.

Toji's expression softens gradually as he looks at his son. Without putting you down, he easily scoops up Megumi with his free arm, holding both of you aloft like you weigh nothing.

"Great… now I've got two clingy brats," he complains, but his eyes are warm as Megumi squeals in delight, tiny hands patting his father's muscled shoulder.

"Strong papa!" Megumi declares proudly, making Toji's ears turn slightly pink.

You catch this and grin, "That’s right sweetie, daddy’s the strongest," you agree, pressing a kiss to his bicep that makes him roll his eyes.

"And you’re my biggest brat," he mutters, but he doesn't put either of you down, secretly basking in the adoration from his two favorite people.

gojo has been waiting a whole 5 seconds

true love waits

three | gojo's ghost hunting guide

seeing spectres? got a ghost problem? it seems Satoru Gojo has one of his own - one he doesn't want to get rid of

synopsis: full-time nerd turned part-time amateur ghost hunter, you've become Gojo's favorite occupation! living with a roommate is hard enough - let alone falling in love with your (un?)dead one!

pairing: nerdjo x ghost!Reader

content: mdni, angst and fluff and smut, ghost giving head, roommates-to-lovers but one of them is dead lol, paranormal aspects ofc, fem reader, idiots falling in love, petty reader, gojo being a DORK, she falls first + he falls harder, oral (m! receiving), kissing, gojo whimpers

art by @chu-cho + divider by @petalpxl

Three days.

Gojo had been sleeping on his own couch for three days.

Banished from the bedroom, the door shut and locked. To be fair, he had the key, could easily check the cameras. But it felt wrong to snoop even more than he already had.

Whatever the reason, he'd try to respect the fact you clearly weren't comfortable with him digging into your past. Despite how much it was killing him to not know the answers to the million-and-one questions regarding your (after)life.

Were you stuck here forever? Would he be trapped wherever he died too? Or was there some other reason you were stuck with him, some unseen, unfinished business?

Still, he cared more about the damage he'd done to your relationship (if he could call it that) than to anything you might've done to his stuff during the last few days.

Those were all just physical.

Things that could be replaced.

There was only one of you. (Or had been.)

He was tempted to crash at Geto's place, but it sucked enough to see his stupid smug smirk when Gojo showed up to lunch without the so-called proof he swore he'd have by now. Plus, he sort of hoped to see that dumb door open each time he came home, for your cold hands to help him take off his jacket or a bottle of water to be waiting for him on the coffee table.

If there was anything he couldn't take, it was the quiet.

So he just ended up grabbing extra shampoo and conditioner at the corner store and convincing Geto to go out shopping with him for some new clothes, skipping over the reason being he currently didn't have access to his closet.

Could it be considered the silent treatment if you never said anything to him in the first place?

"Fight with your girlfriend?" Geto baited after noticing his unusually somber behavior, picking a black sweater off the hanger and holding it out for him to look at.

Gojo huffed, taking it and glancing over his shoulders to search for a dressing room. For some stupid reason, he couldn't help but wondering if you'd like it.

"What do you do?" He started, pausing at the amusement faintly flickering in Geto's eyes before forcing himself to continue. "When a girl is mad at you, I mean?"

"What I do? Or what I think you should do?"

Gojo didn't understand what the difference was, but then again, he didn't understand girls either. He shrugged, and Geto let out a low chuckle before answering anyway.

"Buy her flowers."

Ignoring his best friend's arched brow and suspicious stare while he handed over his credit card to the cashier half an hour later, he was unsure how to deal with the growing discomfort in his stomach whenever he thought of you.

Which was often.

He already tried talking to you from the hallway, slipping I'm sorry notes under the door and promising he didn't even see anything. But his pleas felt less effective when he still had no clue what your name even was.

Begging for forgiveness from a girl whose face he couldn't even see.

He hoped Geto was right.

Gojo turned the key in the lock when he returned home, a pretty bouquet of white lilies and shopping bags in hand, plus a small box tucked under his arm as he twisted the knob and peeked inside.

"Angel?" He called out, immediately cringing when it didn't come out quite as smooth as he hoped. Idiot. Who wants to be called angel after they died?

But then he heard it - the creak of a door opening, soft footsteps down the hall.

"Hey," He quietly spoke, walking in just enough to set the box and bags down on the corner of the couch before standing up straight and holding out the flowers. "I, um, got these for you."

You didn't take it from him - but a stem bent, a few of the petals rustling like you were touching or sniffing them.

"Do you like them?" Gojo tentatively asked.

He wasn't a virgin. Technically.

But he'd still ever bought flowers for someone else before. He wasn't sure what kind to get - and it felt more than a little morbid to imagine the last time you received flowers was probably for your funeral.

He hesitated, brows scrunching up in worry as chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if he'd just lost his last chance as another bleak thought crossed his mind.

"Fuck," He winced at what he'd forgotten. "I don't think I have a vase."

You laughed.

It was soft, maybe even just a figment of his imagination, but God, he'd never heard anything so pretty. A small little giggle, one that rang in his head as you plucked a single flower from the bunch, the lace ribbon that tied them together unravelling.

He felt like he was unravelling with it.

"I'm sorry," Gojo murmured, probably for the fiftieth time in the past few days. "I wasn't trying to pry. I just-"

You broke the stem in half, a small flash of green falling to the floor as you tucked the flower behind his ear, held in place by the thick frame of his glasses.

And he was so distracted by your smaller hand slipping into his, he didn't realize just how close you were until your lips were pressing softly on his. Cool, tender. Blinking back surprise for a second before he was suddenly leaning down to deepen it, knuckles turning white around the rest of the flowers as he tried to wrap an arm around your waist.

When it actually worked?

He was kissing you back twice as hard, trying to squeeze you into existence, fingers digging into flesh that wasn't actually there as he almost moaned into your mouth already. Sucking on your bottom lip like his own life depended on it, teeth nipping at it knowing there wasn't any blood to be drawn, no hickies he could actually leave on your neck, across your breasts, no matter how much he wanted to.

You squeezed his hand, your thumb delicately tracing a little pattern over the back of it, and all he could picture was one of those hearts of yours etched into his skin - seeping through his skin and into his soul.

The flowers were tugged free from his grip as you pulled back, twisting around to gently place them on the table, careful not to crush any of the petals. He tried to tighten his grip, but your presence weakened at his attempt to hold you still, forced to let go and scared you wouldn't stay.

But two firm fingers pressed into his chest, pushing him down onto the couch. He breathed, struggling to find words for the first time in his life. A blink, and his zipper was being tugged down. His jeans and plain white boxers wiggled down his hips before you pressed another kiss to the white fuzz of his happy trail.

Your breath was surprisingly warm, the ridges of your teeth briefly grazing over his exposed midriff as you planted feather-light kisses across to the sharp bone of his hip.

Admiring him.

You toyed with the band of his boxers, low enough you could see the thick patch of his hair, his cock throbbing painfully hard, and then you were running your palm over the clearly outlined bulge.

Gojo groaned, low and deep, head reclining back on the couch and legs spread wide as you nestled between them.

He had never wished so badly he could see you.

Dying to know what color your eyes were, if they were wide and glossy as you peeked up at him, lashes fluttering and lips parted. Your touch flickered between soft and firm, your fingers sending shivers down his spine when you finally freed his cock.

It was almost embarrassing how hard he was, how red and swollen his tip was, pre-cum smeared around it already. It'd been months since he'd jerked off, something he'd been abstaining from thanks to you.

And shit, he was sensitive.

The second you wrapped your lips around him, the second he felt your surprising warmth, the drag of your tongue over his pulsing veins, he was moaning like he'd never known the touch of another woman.

All other memories erased, scrubbed from his brain so he had more space to catalogue every searing sensation of you licking and lapping at him, sucking softly while your fingers wrapped around his base to stroke what didn't fit.

Did ghosts have a gag reflex?

Or was he the first human in history to receive a blowjob from a ghost?

His cheeks flushed, the lump in his throat bobbing hard as you gradually took him deeper, his thick cockhead bumping into the back of your throat, pleasure building brighter, hotter inside him, his fingers shakily reaching out until he felt for your cheek, your soft skin.

Fuck.

Gojo caressed your cheek, groaning loud enough his neighbors could definitely hear him. Finding a loose strand of your hair and wrapping it around his finger, vaguely wondering how you managed to get him so wrapped around your own.

He wondered if he'd be able to to see you with the pair of thermal goggles he hadn't gotten to use yet, or if that would kill the mood.

Your free hand slid up his thigh higher, squeezing him as his cock grazed against the roof of your mouth, and he was barely holding on by a thread. Sanity ready to snap, white-hot need he'd never felt before ripping through him.

He couldn't help it, bucking his hips up and damn near losing his mind when he hard the muffled little moan you made, like you could feel him too, and the thought you needed him even half as much as he needed you right now had him feeling for the back of your head to hold you closer, eyes scrunched close as a particularly lewd whimper escaped him.

All his muscles were pulled taut, abs painfully tense when you suddenly cupped his balls while you were already practically choking on him, and he was cumming before he could stop himself, trying to pull out just for you to swallow his cum anyway.

You'd never eaten food before - not as far as he was aware.

Shit. Could you eat? Had he accidentally been starving you?

Panicked, he pulled out, reaching out to touch your face, a thumb brushing over your lips before you suddenly pressed another kiss there too, suddenly sucking on it until his knuckle was between the ridges of your teeth.

His cock throbbed, threatening to get hard again.

"W-was that okay? Um, a-are you hungry?" He was stammering, tongue-tied as your presence suddenly shifted, taking his fingers out of your mouth and holding it so his palm was facing up. Then, you traced several simple letters out.

Y-E-S. N-O.

He breathed a sigh of relief, chuckling as he realized you were answering his questions.

"Can you say something again? I want to hear your voice," He nervously admitted, hoping you didn't notice how much clammy his hand was, unable to wipe the sweat away when you were holding it.

He was painfully aware of the fact his cock was still out, but he didn't dare move to put it back up, not when you were trying to communicate with him, when forgiveness still felt so fragile.

There was just more silence, but somehow, your presence felt a little stronger, your form a little more solid. Light streamed in through the thin curtains, and when it caught just right, he could almost swear he saw little slivers of you, movement his brain couldn't fully perceive.

"Um, did you?" He awkwardly asked. "Say something?"

Another Y-E-S.

"Shit," Gojo muttered. But his disappointment was hard to hold onto when you were still here, when he could still touch and talk to you, even if he couldn't see or hear you. Yet. "Try again tomorrow?"

S-U-R-E.

He stared biting his lip, debating on what he could do for you. But for every question he got an answer for, ten more seemed to pop up.

Gojo guessed there was only one more he couldn't live without knowing. His face flushed, blinking hard as he tried to pull himself together enough to ask without stuttering.

"So, uh, do you like me?"

a/n: the amazing @madamechrissy inspired this <3

taglist: @fati27ma @soraairo @s-guru @shokosbunny @ssetsuka @deathofacupid @kayskow @pillkits @inoluvrr @baepsays @imm0rtalbutterfly @heartcam @littlenutmaestro @mia-can-yap-too @bbatzvil @sugarcoatedsoul @designerpvssy @gravity-valley @stellasloth @dostoevskyzz @aldebrana @lashaemorow @monstersholygrail @mai-505 @itsinherited @gojosprettyprincess @mimiluvzu2 @poopooindamouf @emochosoluvr @nina-from-317 @beautiful--macabre @gris3o @petalshxwer @oneirataxiaa @onixsky @flowerpot113 @ryuvies @anyx404 @herefor-tojis-tits @takethechai @miizuzu @entr4p3 @nonamebbsblog

.𖥔 COGNITIVE DISSONANCE ⭑.ᐟ⸻ Nerdjo

⸻୨ৎ"𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭"୨ৎ⸻

pairing⸻𖥔 boyfriend Nerdjo x reader

cw ────୨ৎ──── university/college au, Nerd Gojo Satoru, MDNI, NSFW, established relationship, fem reader, mentions of food, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, minor spit stuff, bunch of making out, lowkey exhibitionism, p in v sex, backshots, dirty talk, begging, overstimulation, freaky Gojo, obsessed Gojo, Gojo with specs, bunch of yapping about the theory and other biological phenomena, nothing too complicated I believe, i am open to discuss them in the comments lol.

a/n: art credits @/nekozuu_ on instagram. this was one of my fav theories back in high school.

Gojo Satoru lives by his beliefs, which are firm and rigid—in the sense, they are unshakable until proven wrong.

And one of those beliefs happens to be his positive regard for knowledge and education. Satoru finds his own comfort and joy in knowing he may be smarter than an average pedestrian crossing the road with him. If odds and variables are in his favor, then he's just about the smartest person you'll cross a road with. And he likes that. He likes the feeling of superiority and fulfillment in those achievements. Especially when they are recognized by others.

So it is only natural that as your boyfriend, your great and supportive boyfriend, he supports all your hobbies, and indulges in your favorite activities; despite their overall redundant effective outcome in his perspective. He still accompanies you to those silly movies you watch just for fun and forget about them the next day because they are of no substance, he'll go to a party with you where it's so crowded it defeats the purpose of socializing. 

He will buy you books that do not really add to anything but give you entertainment, and he will watch every trashy reality show you want to watch with him on a Friday night. He’ll even go and buy you the most unhealthy, and unethical brand of cookies if it means you are happy. Even when it is probably that he knows better shops that make better stuff, but if you do not want it, then he will respect that. Because ultimately it is not that it interferes with his convictions, these are compromises he is willing to make for love.

So when all he asks of you is to focus on your grades a little bit more than what you are currently, how can you say no to him?

And of course he is there to help you through all of it! Helping you with notes, going to the library with you and even sweet talking the librarian into helping you return those books you were long overdue to return, just because she loves him. He makes you coffee, and lunch boxes, and even asks your professor for some additional pointers on your behalf.

Then why is it that when you actually get so engrossed into studying he is there in a corner, ignored, and dejected, plotting to burn down the university? The same place where he tops every single academic chart, and competitions. Either beloved by the professors or hated by them for his very capable brain.

Gojo Satoru has strict beliefs, and behavior that corresponds according to those schemas. Then why is it that he is not able to come to a certain conclusion? Does he want your affection at the cost of your grades? Of course not! That would not be something Satoru would even dream about!

After all this is the same guy who helps Suguru with his assignments the day before their submission, one too many times. He helps Shoko with her pre-med preparations, and even helps out his juniors by providing them his notes and pointers for free.

So why is it that he is performing these contradictory behaviors that cannot justify his beliefs?

He is snuggling you up in the bed when you are surrounded by loose notes and papers, even lying on top of them and crushing them in the process. Throwing a fit when you scold him, and pushing them off on the ground out of spite; like a big overgrown, bratty, spoiled house cat. So he gets kicked out of the bed after being heavily scolded by you. 

He is sliding his feet up your legs and between your thighs, at the library, not stopping even when someone comes and takes a seat beside you. Taking pleasure in watching your face twist and turn, even though it is hidden a bit behind your laptop screen, he still gets a peek. He wouldn't stop, he cannot stop, it's as if his mind goes into this ‘must always touch the love of my life’ mode, even when it's disputing his usual functions. So he gets kicked in the knees by you, and also gets abandoned there.

He cannot help but pull you into random empty classrooms to make out with you, even when you are late for your classes. 

“It-*kiss*-will be-*kiss*- alright”

“No, N-*kiss*-you have to-” Shoving at his shoulders is useless. Just resisting his kisses is simply near impossible. 

Good luck trying to get out of his clutches. Telling him to stop is not happening when he has those pretty pink lips trying to silence you with kisses. Trying to push him off is also ineffective. Once, you are in his arms, on his lap, in the back of an empty lecture hall, Satoru is taking full exploitative advantage of the situation.

He will be only letting you go when he hears someone enter the class. He will pick you up with him in one go, and walk out of the entrance at the back as fast as he can. He has been banned from kissing privileges for a whole day, during exam season for doing this. 

And honestly he'd risk it again. Only because he knows how to plead his way back onto your lips, and in between your legs.

"Pleaseeeeee sweets i am so sorry, look how sorry i am." Curse Gojo Satoru and his big blue puppy eyes, and your unfathomable amount of love for him.

And if begging does not work, which hardly ever happens—he would just start with kissing around your neck, and snuggling into your side, while you try to not give him any attention; and then quickly it would turn into dirty talking into your ears, in his own eccentric way, until you give in.

“You know sweets, condoms are not biodegradable.” You are not sure what made a shiver run down your spine. Was it what he said or the bite on your earlobe, or his wandering hands creeping up your stomach under your top? 

“W-what?”

“Just saying that, we should do it raw, right now, for the environment. You know?”

Maybe it is just the fact that you look so hot when your eyebrows are all scrunched up when you focus. Something is very sexy about you trying, actually trying, for his sake. And it just simply turns him on. How hard you try to ignore his advances, and how it shows so clearly that you get so easily affected by his little touches and silly words. It looks exactly the same when you cum for him, just the difference is that your eyes remain open in this case. 

He is not one to have types, if you asked him whether this reckless behavior is because he's into nerdy girls more—then he'd simply say an adamant no. Because he doesn't care. The only reason he is being like this is because it's you. Everytime you whine and push him away, when he tries to distract you, despite it, you just melt so pliable and soft in his arms, that even your actions seem despite your words. Just like him. The thought burns his skin, makes his heart palpitate, leaves him panting, and his vision gets all blurry—that maybe you love him as disruptively, as he loves you.

Dichotomy? Contradictions? He can live with those. But dissonance? That he cannot do. His entire existence is about the perfect synchronisation of his cognition and behavior, achievement of homeostasis, so he can be the most functional version of himself.

He cannot have that when his mind is shouting at him to stop himself from distracting his girlfriend, while his hands are doing nothing to stop themselves from sneaking into your skirt.

So his love for knowledge and education can crash and burn when it tries to rival his need to be practically attached to his girlfriend, and always have all of her affections and undivided attention, like the selfish bastard he is.

Especially when he has your ass up in the air, giving you some of the meanest backshots of your life, while you are trying to solve an equation.

How is that fair?

"B-baby, can you-can you focus?" And no, he does not mean to imply that you should focus on your studying, he means focus on him.

"I am trying to focus here, Toru. Just another page and I'm done with this set, one second."

He continues to thrust harder and harder. Your almost entire body moves forward with each one, and just the fat of your ass jiggling from the impact, while his hands definitely leave an imprint around your waist—how are you even using that calculator right now?

“You sure, that-oh god-this is what you'd rather do?” He says before shutting his eyes and pushing on your body a bit, making your top half lie flat down on the bed, while your ass remains in the air, high and perfectly in his grasp.

“Yes Toru.” With a sigh you added more, “But please, continue.”

So he does. How can he disobey you? I mean if you look at it from a different angle, you can look at this like Gojo Satoru keeping his girlfriend motivated! Sure. 

How exactly? Well if you think about it, he is sort of helping you out with exhausting you, and making you get some sleep, and his kisses alone are very motivational, very inspiring. Or so he would like to think, definitely not distracting or attention seeking.

At least that is what he'd like to tell himself, like when after being ignored by you for one and a half hours, he finally decides he's had enough. And he abandons his own work, and crawls off your bed, to your desk, where you are sitting, trying to focus—keeping a healthy distance between you two, since the exams are practically the day after tomorrow.

And from the corner of your eyes you can see Satoru crawling towards you. Maybe he thinks if he crawled like a cat, he would go unnoticed, which is a very dumb assumption for such a smart guy. But he gets to your chair, and slightly turns it so you are no longer facing your desk, but him instead.

“You're hurting me sweets.” He laid his face on your thighs, and looked up at you with pleading eyes. Sitting on the floor, he looked so dejected and kicked, while moving your feet on his lap, and caressing a hand up and down on them.

“Do not start with me, Satoru.” Despite sighing at his big blue desperate eyes, hiding behind his metal frame spectacles. That now sat crooked on his face, as he further pressed his cheeks in your thighs, you still slipped one of your hands in his hair, scratching his scalp like a big clingy cat purring in your lap.

“‘M just askin’ for ‘m sweets to pay attention to me.” Both of his hands wrapped themselves around your shin, and he further shoved his face in your lap, mumbling and grumbling like a kid.

And when you don't reply to him, because you get busy with your worksheet again, he has no choice but to let the impulses run him. 

Is it so bad to distract your girlfriend the day before her exam? 

If you asked him this before he met you, he'd say yes. But now—the answer would be very different. A kind of, very cheeky ‘Nooooooo’. Since he is currently working to take off your shorts, and to get a taste of you, anything but a ‘no’ would be the incorrect answer. And why did you not try to pry him off as he lifted you up from your seat, with his sheer strength alone and dragged your shorts off? 

Let's say you're too used to his antics to be bothered by it. There have been days where he has gone to sleep with his mouth on your tits, and even taken naps with his face down, and pressed into your clothed pussy. You kind of got a scare that day that maybe he suffocated himself, when he would not get off of you.

But you never shy away from indulging his delirious or conscious insanity. You'd always pamper him after all the nighters he pulls to cover his syllabus in a day, months before exams; or if he stays up all night to finish a level of Zelda. It could be that he is just too happy to get full marks on his test, or that he's upset over his grades being not good enough—you’d kiss him, and let him do whatever he wants, to make himself feel better. You'd never stop him from trying to get his fill.

So when he puts both of your thighs up on his shoulder, and pulls your panties to the side to give your cunt a long lick; sure you whimper and your grip on your pen gets tighter—but you don't stop him.

“S-Sato-” The stutter of words got stuck in your throat, when his face plunged into your pussy with more vigor.

“AH. OH-FUCK-MY GO-GOODNESS. SATORU!”

His left hand remains tightly wrapped around your right thigh, while his left hand crept its way up to your hole, circling around it, and teasing to go in by a centimetre or so, to then only pull back and trace around your entrance.

“Hmm?” He hummed around your clit, as his tongue worked around it in a steady and perfected rhythm.

Well, Satoru has a system when it comes to eating you out. One thing he knows he'll never get conflicted over, is that he can die with his mouth on your pussy and he will die happy. He might even come back as an apparition instead of going to heaven, because his heaven is between your legs.

The way he eats your cunt is strategic, and yet very sloppy. And when it comes to your clit, sucking on it can do the job, as he has observed—but what truly gets you worked up is when he is tracing the pi symbol on your clit. That makes you shower his face with your juices. 

And honestly this was entirely an accidental finding. It just so happened that one day he needed a break from this equation that was making his head hurt, so as usual, he found refuge with his face between your legs. Unintentionally he started thinking about the equation again while eating you out, and when his tongue off mindedly started to trace the pi symbol on your clit, it made you squirt, which you had never done before.

Just to solidify his hypothesis and to draw an inference, for the next seven days, he spent most of his waking free hours between your legs. And everytime he pulled out the pi, you came more than ever.

This little side quest experiment cleared his head so well, he solved that equation within minutes after he came to his conclusions.

“P-please Toru- trying. Fuck. Try-trying to get .Fuck fuck fuck. this page is done.” You did not know these little details. You don't need to, because as long as he can make you cum like no one else has, all you need to remember is, his tongue.

“Be a good girl and finish it then, sweets.” The two fingers that he delved inside your hole, to push against those spots in your wall, that made you scream uncontrollably and want to grip his hair—he took them out, and used that hand to slap your clit with sharp and accurate movements of his wrist. Neither his taunting words, nor his little moans, could rival yours. But it sure did go straight to your pussy, quite literally.

“To-Toruuuu” You twitched with every little slap that came down on your clit. And your worksheet looked like a toddler started solving it by the end. The vibrations of the sounds he started to make in his own pleasure only made it worse for you.

“Yes, sweets?” He finally pulled off from your cunt, with his lips and nose glistening with your juices, and his glasses fogged up and smudged, so he had to look up at you from the gap above his glasses. 

And he truly could not look more fucked out. If someone saw you two, it'd be hard to tell who's brain has gone more mushy.

“If-hah-I cum, w-will you stop?” The proposition was tempting and risky.

“Hmmm? You're asking as if you can hold back.” And without another word, he dove right back in, with more determination, more fingers, accompanied by his tongue inside of you, and more of his spit just rolling down the mound of your cunt—he ate you out like a starved man, until you came.

And if you thought you could bargain with Gojo Satoru; you are, oh so, wrong. 

Satoru didn't let you go until you came again on his face on the bed next, and then again while sitting in his face. And by the sixth orgasm, you've had enough, so you passed out on him. 

Next day as punishment for himself, he refrained from doing anything to you, and helped you study while studying for his own exams. And when the urges started to override his beliefs, yet again. He ran back to his dorm room. And locked himself in there until the exams were done. He went as far as to not even touch himself to the thought of you, and kept contact with you minimum. Texts, only five per day; calls, only two per day; and video calls, once if he is about to pull out his dick and jerk it to pictures of your face on his phone. And he wished that maybe this distance will get rid of the discord in his head. 

By the time the exams ended, Satoru felt more than confident, not only in the fact that your grades are about to get better, and that he is going to top yet again; but also that his problem was under control.

Gojo Satoru has fixed his dissonance. His cognition and his behavior are in perfect synchronisation.

“Toruuuu!” You yelled as you ran towards him from across the hallway, to pick him up after his exam.

No, Satoru’s behaviors did not suddenly start to align with his beliefs. In fact, he figured it's better to align his beliefs with his behavior.

“Missed you sweets, so much.”

Gojo Satoru is not that fond of PDA, but like right now, he would never refrain from kissing you with tongue and all in the middle of the hallway. It doesn't matter that his glasses get pushed up to his forehead and he looks silly when you back away, because he will always chase your lips, as you giggle at him and try to fix his glasses.

“Missed you too baby” Your giggles went straight to his head. Making him see hearts floating in front of his eyes, all around you.

So, Satoru cannot keep his hands off you, big deal. Fuck his beliefs. He can, and he should, be able to touch you whenever and however he can. He is lucky enough to have you, to have you love him so dearly to indulge all his silly thoughts and his obsessive love sick behaviors.

It was only about time that his brain also understood that it cannot fight the phenomenon that is, your existence in his life. So why try to pull back his muscles from naturally reaching out to you, and why not just have his hands all over you? Because answer to homeostasis is not to battle with the anomalies disrupting his equilibrium; with all his physiological and psychological might; but to achieve self-regulation and changes from within, to allow proper functioning and survival.

Because Gojo Satoru’s brain may be able to fight anything and everything. Perhaps even find answers to the unknown—but it's always at your mercy, just as his entire being.

a/n: Art credits @/nekozuu_ on instagram, other pictures are from ppinterest; i could not find the exact sources.

full quote is by Leon Festinger (cognitive dissonance was mainly theorized by him) “A man with a conviction is a hard man to change. Tell him you disagree and he turns away. Show him facts or figures and he questions your sources. Appeal to logic and he fails to see your point."

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @gojao @cuntphoric @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @soupicidesquad @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @gojosconsort @ricecake-mochi @veahhcarothers

Something something your fave making you a mother for mother's day