Born To Be High School Girls, Forced To Be Jujutsu Sorcerers

Imagine hating on me but i spend my free time maladaptive daydreaming about getting raw dogged by fictional men

Baseball dad gojo just does something to me

# SYMBOLS !!

⋆ ࣪ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ⋆ ࣪ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼 ꒰ ა ♡ ໒ ꒱

✹˖ ࣪ ਏਓ ʚ ї ɞ ‧₊˚✩ 🐞! ꒰୨ 𖤐 ୧꒱

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .   ༺ ˖࣪  ∗ ਏਓ ∗  ˖࣪ ༻

✹. ｡ o ༺ ˖࣪ ∗ 𓆩♡𓆪 ∗ ˖࣪ ༻ ˖࣪ ∗ ਏਓ ∗ ˖

❕ like/reblog if u saved or use

m. osamu is a family man.

everything that revolves around domesticity, he yearns it, cherishes it even. there’s something special about soft intimacy that you share with your beloved one that your share with no other, and he lives for it.

so when you surprises him by entering his shop, the door creak that make his head turn, wondering who can be presenting at such hour and he sees you, a spent look on your face coming after your work, he smiles. he couldn’t dream of something better at the moment, and after a tiring day, reuniting with his loved one make his heart swell in relief.

big comforting arms cages you in a doting embrace, welcoming your presence that he waited for, calloused hands trailing up your back to your neck and caressing it lovingly, all acts of love for you. he begrudgingly frees away from your form that he adores so much, and walks back to the counter, rests his palm on his chin as you prop yourself on the bar stool, and start asking about you day.

he would, for nothing in the world, trade that moment for anything. Peering up at you fondly as you jabber with fervor, he realizes that he really wants a family with you. in his deepest imaginations and dreams, whenever a family figure become visible and that it’s about a mother, nothing else but your reflection appears.

and he knows what you’ll do next. he knows that you’ll pester him because he doesn’t listen to you or doesn’t pay much attention to your gossiping, seeming too lost in his thoughts. so, he simply lets out a breathy chuckle before running a thumb on your cheek and kissing you softly on the other.

you just don’t know yet that he’ll propose to you the next month.

[@ fayeraa. do not copy, steal nor claim as yours, and do not translate/repost on other platforms.] reblogs appreciated <3

i kinda wanna elaborate even more later

Katsuki's never been someone who's used or enjoyed pet names all too much, preferring the intimacy of saying someones first name instead of mushy shit like 'baby', 'honey', or 'darling'. It's just never really made sense to him, why say something like that when he can just use your name? Surely the tone of his voice conveys any emotion he might need. Your name mixed with curses when you forget to turn off the lights at night, your name accompanied by the sound of his boots at the door when he's home, your name mixed with the sounds of sheets in bed.

and you've never cared or paid any attention if it, even though calling strangers 'honey' and 'sweetheart' rolls of your tongue so naturally Katsuki spent the first month of your relationship wondering how it's possible to hold so much love in your heart for people you don't even know. the way you seem to care about strangers, asking questions about their day, remembering the details and bringing it up the next time you see them; all accompanied by sickly sweet words of affection, casually woven in between well wishes and giggles. you promise to return to them, and they promise to be there waiting.

Katsuki looks at you, one of these times after you both leave the market late at night (he always insists on going with you, says it's too dangerous for you to go alone. you always try to tell him you've been fine all these times before, but never fight his insistence too hard), takes in your body that glows gold under the streetlights, your tote bag full of things you bought (flowers, since the ones on the dining room table are starting to wilt. an eggplant for the Thai curry you've been meaning to make — though when you get home you'll see the lemongrass you've bought is bad and you'll have to make another trip, not that you or Katsuki mind. Green onions, chives, fresh thyme. Soft white bread lays on top of it all, and you're careful not to crush it under your arm.), and the way you mindlessly talk about your day. The cat you passed on the street, the stranger you regularly make conversation with at the bus stop. Your coworkers personal drama you can't help but be invested in — despite claims that you're not.

When he goes to bed with you that night, his keys in the same dish as yours ( a little ceramic one that sits on the table by the door. it's shaped like a sardine can. you giggled the whole way home after you bought it), his boots next to your flats — his are neat, sitting up right and yours are haphazardly thrown next to his. He'll fix them in the morning before he leaves— you'll wrap your arms around his middle, burying your face between his shoulder blades in an attempt to steal his warmth. You'll mutter something about your day, follow it up with 'good night, my love.' and something about it, will have his heart grow 4 sizes in his chest.

My love, my love, my love

He'll hold onto it the next day, and the one after that. let it settle into his mouth like honey before he starts whispering it to you when he thinks you're not listening. My love, my love, my love, the words seep into the air between you both and permeate the space. Chopsticks passed to you before dinner, handing off the remote so you can put on YouTube videos (make up tutorials, obviously. katsuki pretends he's not interested while he makes mental notes at the products that elicit a gasp from you) all followed up with those two words.

He looks at you, bundled on the couch, thinks of all the beautiful things he sees and the way that all reflects in the beauty of you.

Maybe he likes pet names, after all.

hbd my boys

illustration in celebration of haikyuu's 10th anniversary (02/20/2022)

that's why Gojo made Yuji's uniform like that