Repeating My Love Is Mine All Mine Everyday In The Mirror Like An Affirmation

repeating “my love is mine all mine” everyday in the mirror like an affirmation

thinking about Gojo, who's got a new hobby and that is, being your boyfriend. Gojo's technically good at everything without even trying, but when it comes to his new role as your romantic companion, he's on a different level. and oh boy, this time - he's making an effort.

thinking about Gojo, who drops everything, anything and anyone when you need him. you need a ride? he's on his way. you want some chocolate? he's already bought it. you miss him? oh well, that little curse can wait. it's not like it's that dangerous - the idea of you being in your apartment alone, watching some Netflix drama and thinking of him instead of touching him is a real matter of great urgency.

thinking about Gojo, who regularly watches "Pride and Prejudice" with you, even though he doesn't really like the story, but watching you go through the widest range of emotions gets him feeling a certain way. he's also a popcorn specialist now - the two of you went through A LOT of different snacks, but somehow popcorn has officially got the title of "the best snack to elevate a cinematic experience". he especially likes the caramel-flavoured one - this particular sort tastes even better when he pulls the crumbs straight out of your lacy bra.

thinking about Gojo, who's ridiculously excited to hear you say his name in a fake protest when his hands go there not only for the crumbs. it sounds even better when it gets whiney, right when Satoru takes the laptop off your lap and throws it somewhere. you hear a crack and this time you protest for real, but he doesn't give a slightest shit about that device. he'll buy himself a new one. after all, you taste like caramel and smell like those chocolate candles from that shop he discovered a week ago. he wasn't sure which scent you'd prefer, so he just bought every single one. guess he has his answer now.

thinking about Gojo, whose fingers get tangled in your hair, and his lips finally find yours. he's addictive, you knew that before, but with his every touch, every conversation, every inappropriate joke it feels like you're falling deeper and deeper, to the point where there's no going back. he's already there. he has no plans to go back.

thinking about Gojo, who sees you - and his six eyes tell him that you're his biggest treasure. the one must protect the most.

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五｜夢

いっぱい、いっぱい

だiいiすiき

って伝えたいね

☆Art by: momoya348 on twitter !☆

“ And we put this one here” says the man in a softer and smoother tone, with a unique timbre that contradicts his image.

His tall, muscular figure stands next to the petite one of his son, intent on watching in amazement as the eldest man platters some fruit.

“ Mom eats a lot” Megumi comments and looks up at Toji, giggling at his own words.

The right side of Toji's lips turn up, also highlighting the small scar while holding back a smile. “ Don't tell her or she'll be offended. Come.” Toji takes the little one from under his armpits and helps him wash his sticky hands.

“ What are you doing?” they both turn to you, freshly awoken from your afternoon nap. Megumi gets out of your husband's arms and runs towards you, hugging your legs.

Ever since being told he's going to have a baby sister, he's more clingy than before. Carefully, you get down on your knees and hug him, returning the same affection.

“ Why are you so cute, huh?” you ask him as you run a hand through his dark locks, then place a kiss on his chubby cheeks.

Toji moves closer to the two of you, an almost imperceptible smile on his thin lips. “Did you sleep well?” he asks as he helps you up.

You nod and sigh wearily. “ She is much more energetic these days. She won't stop moving, let alone kicking.” you complain, running a hand over your swollen stomach, and it's not long before your husband's hand does the same.

“ It must be the sugar.” he chuckles but an expression of astonishment appears on his face as he looks towards you.

“ Did you feel that?” you ask excitedly and he nods as little Megumi watches you both curiously.

Another kick is felt soon after a little harder than the first one.

“ Me too!” exclaims Megumi raising his arms to be caught. Toji takes him and places his small hand on your stomach, making him participate in that small moment.

He gasped softly when the unborn baby sister interacted with him. “ Wow, that's really cool!” he exclaims with sparks in his eyes.

❊ foolish one - inumaki toge . . silence speaks volumes, and he thinks that you can't listen for much longer.

it's not fair of him to love you like he does.

inumaki feels horrible, he really does. his affection is selfish and abominable, and it hurts to feel it. but he can't not. it's a kind of love that makes him sick. his chest burns and heaves with unspeakable words, and his nails carve half-moons into his palms with uncontained admiration.

there isn't a thing about you he doesn't love. from every sunspot to every hair on your head. he loves the cadence of your voice, and he loves the face you make when he pokes you or does something otherwise annoying. he relishes in this expression, really, because it means you noticed him, you saw him. he really is awful, for how he scrounges and scrabbles for every piece of your attention he can get. like a beggar on the street, like a moth, like a starved animal. it's pathetic, he thinks.

he feels especially selfish on sunday movie nights with all the first-years, when he steals the spot on the couch right next to you because he knows you'll fall asleep on his shoulder. he feels even worse on mornings when he hopes something like a strange sickness will befall maki so she can't go on a mission with you, and he'll get to replace her. because maki is his friend, but she's also your friend, and he'd much rather if he was your only one. and he's the most selfish on break days, where he gets into predicaments on purpose so you'll help him out.

inumaki remembers the first snow of the year, because he remembers the little stuffed animal punching him through his pocket. one of principal yaga's stuffed animals had not-so-accidentally ended up in the pocket of his winter coat, and he needed your help— not panda's, or maki's, or yuuta's— your help, to get it back to his office without being caught. oh, he loved that day. he loved the look of exasperation on your face, he loved the amusement in your eyes every time the living stuffed animal would hit him, he loved that stolen hour in your company.

the guilt is abrasive. the anguish of loving you scalds like hot tea slipt on his palms and he's sick, he has to be, because he can't get enough and at the same time it's too much. he loves you but he shouldn't, because you deserve better.

he can't love you the way you deserve. he knows it— if you know, then you probably know it. everyone probably knows it. everyone. he's so, so unfair. he's cruel to subject you through his love. you should have someone who can tell you how much they love you, instead of relying on a hand on the shoulder or a friendly shoulder during a movie. you deserve the compliments that are spoken, and not written. you deserve someone who can match your inflection, and tone, and cadence, the very parts of your voice he admires so much. someone who can your favorite songs with you. someone better, much better than him.

he thinks he's merciful for letting you go. he decides he should one night, when he hears you laughing through a door at something someone else said. because he doesn't have the words to make you laugh, and actions are never enough for him. it's an act of kindness, for how he blocks you out. for how he stops trying to steal you away, to sit next to you, to slip you notes, and make you smile. he believes it's the right thing to do, to take away your choice.

avoiding you is hard at first. cutting out an addiction to your warmth is easier said than done, but he finds that looking through you has become easier than looking at you. if he looks through you, he doesn't see the creases of your smile and the lines of your eyes that make him fall harder every time. and he thinks you don't even notice— if you do, you say not a word. inumaki thinks it makes it easier. if you said nothing, it meant you didn't notice his withdrawal. if you didn't notice, it meant you didn't like him back. and if you didn't like him back, then he never had a chance to begin with.

that is, until, the second night of summer.

for the first time in a while, it's too hot to sleep. a summer storm brews somewhere in the distance, and the humidity of the air cuts like a blade. inumaki finds himself outside, seated on the steps of the boy's dormitory, unsurprisingly thinking of you. so it's almost like he's the one who summoned you, when you appear in front of you. he didn't even hear your footsteps.

you look upset. arms crossed over your chest, dressed in a loose, too-big t-shirt and shorts. you look like you just woke up and inumaki wouldn't be surprised if that ended up being the truth, considering the late hour and the unbearable heat. you're frowning in a way that makes his chest hurt because whatever has made you upset must be the worst thing in the world, and he hates it so much, too. but then he realizes what he's feeling, purses his lips beneath his scarf, and looks away.

"can you even look at me?"

he wasn't expecting you to talk to him, let alone so bluntly. but you do, and it's your voice, the one he loves so, too much. and you're talking to him. his eyes drift towards you.

it's silent for a beat before you speak again. "did i do something?"

and oh, you sound so shattered. it's something unusual, the grief carried in your tone. it's an inflection he wishes he wasn't familiar with, but knew all too well considering the nature of your career. but nothing bad had happened, he thinks. only good. so what happened? inumaki shakes his head and tips it to the side in an inquiry, even though he wants to run to hold you. he wants to take your head in his arms and hold it to his chest and speak, and tell you it's okay, and ask what's wrong. but the best he can do is sit and stare like a dog.

you purse your lips and breathe in deeply before continuing: "then why are you ignoring me?"

his stomach plummets. he didn't think you noticed. he can't look you in the eyes anymore, and he's almost as surprised when you scoff, "oh. so i was right; you are."

he really, really can't look at you. he settles for the bush just behind you that blows with a pleasant cold breeze carried through the hot summer night as you keep on talking. "i was hoping i was imagining it. but you aren't even pretending?"

he sits still, like a statue. and you must be so hurt because you have a million more words to say, it seems, as you steamroll over his silence. "and i thought we were friends. a whole year of this school— you'd think it'd make us friends. but now— out of nowhere— you act like i'm not even here. what did i do? and to think—"

you pause. your voice is cracked, shaky. you don't know what else there is left to say, except for the truth: "and to think that i liked you back."

his back stiffened. his eyes meet yours. a shiver passes through him, and it's suddenly freezing cold. inumaki blinks at you. you glare at him. "yuuta told me everything," you state bluntly.

yuuta, the one person to whom inumaki had admitted his feelings. of course he told you. he was too good to lie about something like this. inumaki feels the fabric of the world around him rip and shred like it's been dropped in a cat's cradle, a vice grip squeezes the air out of his lungs, and for the first time, he has nothing he wants to say, even if he could.

"you decided for me," you continue after a short lapse, "decided that you weren't good enough. but you didn't even think about what i would've wanted."

he is silent. you keep speaking, unshed tears scratching your words into sharp, snappy sentences.. "i would've liked you no matter what. no matter your technique, or fucking whatever. i did. i do. but you chose for me."

he hopes he's seeing things when a tear, illuminated by the moonlight, slides down the apple of your cheek before you wipe at your face with your palm. you conclude, "it wasn't fair. for me, or for you."

unceremoniously, briskly, you turn and leave. it happened almost as quickly as you'd appeared. if he blinked, he'd have missed it. the pit in his stomach is growing deeper and consuming him whole.

inumaki cannot say a word. he can't move, to chase after you. he can't do anything but sit, and stare, and watch you go. he can't breathe, he can't think, he can't picture a future where it all works out because he doesn't know if it will.

loving you was unfair. he didn't deserve you, he knows. but leaving you was worse.

flowers chosen: belladonna & columbine . . silence and foolishness

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°˖➴ when your baby …— (JJK MEN)

જ⁀➴ featuring: nanami kento, kamo choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru and gojo satoru.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,6k

જ⁀➴ tags: fluff, pregnancy, birth, babies, domestic jjk men, they're all your husbands, them being perfect.

જ⁀➴ note: not proofread, some of these are a bit unrealistic, but keep in mind that it's fiction and i don't have a baby.

°˖➴ when your baby smiles for the first time: [nanami kento]

Birth was a blessing in itself, but having a partner as supportive as Kento made everything worth it, down to the sleepless nights you have been spending trying to get used to your baby’s constant need to be cuddled, fed and taken care of. You were frustrated, it was pretty evident by the tears welling up in your eyes every two seconds along with how you simply refused to be near anyone but your baby and Kento. Thankfully, he was always the one coaxing you to get out of the bed and sit on the balcony, have a full meal and relax while he took care of the baby.

On the outside, it seemed as though Kento had everything under control, and that nothing could affect him as long as you were okay. He never cried when you did (beside when he held the baby for the first time), and he made sure to validate your every frustration and fear, all while telling you that everything will be okay.

Which brings us to this moment, with both of you sitting on the couch with your baby on his lap. One of your favorite things about these nights was that Kento never skipped them and always made sure to play with your baby for a bit before helping you put her to bed. Even when he was incredibly exhausted.

Kento rocked your baby back and forth, enjoying the happy and curious noises leaving your daughter’s mouth. Your husband’s pointer was gently tracing her face, humming a soft tune about how adorable she was all while helping her be more aware of her body.

“And those are your eyes,” his tired voice came out. “And this is your nose,” accompanied with a boop, “and those are your precious cheeks,” a laugh escaped his lips when your daughter seemed to try to escape from the ticklish feeling of his finger and you chuckled at the scene. Your happiness was so contagious that your daughter’s lips twitched and a giggle escaped her lips.

“Oh,” Kento paused his movements but it only seemed to make your daughter giggle even more. “Look at you,” a smile broke on your husband’s face and he leans down to brush his nose against hers. “Is daddy your favorite comedian already?” And the louder her giggles got, the harder it was for your husband to contain his own laughter. He throws his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, and when he leans back down towards your baby girl, her smile only gets bigger and bigger.

You bring your legs up to your chest and watch the scene unfold with a heart full of love and adoration for your husband and the human being you both created. And when Nanami notices your silence, he supports his baby girl’s head with one hand and reaches his free hand towards your leg to caress it.

“Are you okay, darling?” To which you flash him with a smile that Kento could only describe as one that filled his heart to the brim.

“Never been better.”

°˖➴ when your baby first rolls over: [kamo choso]

You were well aware of how anxious and easily nervous your husband could get. Throughout your entire pregnancy, you were never allowed to be even a foot away from him. On a normal day, you would’ve asked for personal space, but lucky Choso, your pregnancy hormones seemed to make you even more attached to him.

Now that your baby boy was here, all of that anxiety and nervousness was doubled. Instead of worrying about one person and a bump, Choso had to make sure you and your baby were both okay all while trying not to tire himself to stay awake for you two. Night feeds were usually his favorite time of the day, despite your tired self and the sleepiness on your face, watching you try to hold your baby while feeding him always made him lean towards you and press a kiss to your forehead.

Your baby was about three months old when Choso started becoming even more involved with diaper and outfit changing. Not that he didn’t want to at the beginning, you were always far too nervous to let him do anything unsupervised. Your baby was currently on the bed while his father reached for the outfit that he laid out for him. And while Choso was always super careful, you had called out his name before walking into the room and so he turns his head to the door and is confused when you’re wide eyed and staring at the bed.

“What?”

“Look- the baby, Choso!” He turns to stare at his son and is pleasantly surprised when he notices that his son had fully rolled over and was now on his stomach. Your husband doesn’t say a thing as your baby makes noises, almost complaining to you both that he wasn’t seeing you and that his muscles were still too weak to support his head, so Choso rolls him on his back and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“…don’t you think it’s too soon for him to try to leave mid-conversation?”

“Baby,” you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”

“He’s moving too quickly! What do you mean he was able to roll over?” Your husband complains and he slowly dresses up your son.

“It just means our baby is healthy and functioning well.”

“Yeah,” Choso says softly before picking up your baby. “Our baby.”

°˖➴ when your baby starts crawling: [fushiguro toji]

Toji always thought that he didn’t deserve a second chance at life. He simply thought it was too late to start over, that was until he met you and you made him realize that ‘too late’ didn’t really have a place in your dictionary. You made him experience everything all over again; from falling in love to raising two healthy babies along with Megumi and Tsumiki. You gave him a second chance at being a father all while helping him fix his relationship with his kids.

You always made sure to help Tsumiki and Megumi with their homework while Toji stayed with your baby boy and baby girl. He would sit on the floor and watch as they struggled to even hold up their heads and try to reach for him.

“Come on now, I know you can do it,” Toji held the toy your baby boy was whining to his father to give him, and your husband was very stubborn about what his kids were capable of. Tsumiki and Megumi were already excelling at different sports and even academically, and despite you trying to convince your husband that your babies were only six months old, he wouldn’t listen.

Shifting his attention from his son to his daughter, he reaches for the toy in her hands and slowly takes it away from her. He watches as a pout forms on her lips and her eyes get teary almost immediately, and Toji has never believed in mother instinct as much as right now, because you burst out of the study room at the same time as your baby girl crying.

“Toji,” your disappointed tone as you walked towards the scene made the man turn back towards his babies.

“I just think they should be crawling by now.”

“They need time baby,” you step behind him and look over your baby girl who was trying to rub her teary eyes. “You can try by setting it in front of her, then she can try reaching for it.”

Your husband does as he is told and completely forgets about his son’s toy. Too focused on getting your daughter to move towards her toy, he fails to notice his son slowly crawling towards him to retrieve the small item sitting next to him but you do.

“Oh!” your gasp catches your husband’s attention and he immediately notices his son. “Come on baby! Good job!” Toji doesn’t waste time and turns back towards your daughter, gently coaxing her into moving towards her toy.

“Come on baby girl, come on,” it is very rare for Toji to be smiling so softly but whenever he was with his kids, his cheeks would end up hurting him from smiling too much.

Your daughter’s attention quickly shifts towards the person that walks out of the study room, and when her eyes fall on Megumi, a giggle escapes her lips and she starts moving towards her older brother. You and Toji watch in awe as Megumi sits cross legged on the floor and talks very softly to his baby sister, words of encouragement leaving his lips as your baby girl stops a couple of times and whines at the difficult task at hand.

“Just a bit more, come on,” But once in Megumi’s arms, the boy holds her carefully before walking back towards you and his dad. Toji stands up with his younger son in his arms before patting Megumi’s head.

“Good job, boy. You did well.” To which Megumi responds to with a shy nod before handing you his baby sister.

Moments like these sure made it feel like everything in life was worth it.

°˖➴ when your baby says their first word: [geto suguru]

You never knew you could fall in love twice until you saw your husband become a father to your beautiful baby girls. Not only was he supportive, which was obviously the bare minimum, he still managed to be present for all three of his girls at the same time. The girls were obsessed with their father, and rightfully so, but something you truly admired about your husband was that he made sure to include himself during their play time.

And despite your attempts at convincing him that play time meant playing with dolls and plushies, Suguru was adamant on teaching his little girls very interesting words that had their tiny eight month old brains almost short circuit.

“Sugu, easy there. They can’t possibly know what pontificate means.” You say followed with a low chuckle, watching as the man sat down on the floor with his legs spread wide open for his two girls to sit in the space there and glance at the book their father was holding.

“My girls are smart like their parents,” your husband says with a serious look on his face. “I need their first words to be something smart, something big…”

“I need something that screams Beyoncé,” you say jokingly and your husband shoots you a playful glare.

“Be serious.”

You squat in front of your baby girls and it immediately shifts their attention from the book Suguru was holding and you smile at that. You instinctively open your arms and wait for them to crawl towards you, but instead one of the girls looks back at Suguru and waits for him to look down at her.

“Mama,” your little girl turns to her sister before staring at you and starts crawling towards you and your jaw almost touches the floor.

“Did you just say mama?”

“Mamama,” your other daughter mimics her sister and tries to escape Suguru’s hold, but he catches her in his arms and his happiness seems to be a lot more obvious than yours.

“Yeah baby, that’s mama! She said mama, did you hear that?” You grab your baby girl who was crawling towards you and grin at your husband.

“Didn’t you say you wanted their first word to be something big?”

“You’re their everything, so it is something big.” There was no doubt that you picked the right person to father your children.

°˖➴ when your baby starts walking: [gojo satoru]

You’ve always known that your baby was going to be as hyper as Satoru. Ever since he was in the womb, your baby would not stop moving and kicking, it even resulted in him almost wrapping the umbilical cord around his neck but thankfully, the birth went great and he came out as healthy as ever.

Despite being so sure that the baby would be a carbon copy of his father, your baby boy ended up taking your every facial feature. Satoru couldn’t deny that he wished his baby had his white hair, but something about having a second human looking exactly like you melted his heart. But that was literally the only thing the baby had about you, just the looks. Because God, was he an active baby.

He was holding his head up and rolling on his stomach faster than you had expected, and since Satoru loved to test his boy’s limits, your baby ended up crawling soon after. Not even two months later, your baby was saying his first words and all you could do was nod and smile as people told you how unique your baby was, and a part of you could only wish that you would shelter him from all the attention he was getting. But he was a Gojo, and stuff like this was bound to happen.

But the moment your husband noticed your discomfort, he immediately stopped accepting people when they asked to come over. He was excited to become a father, but it wouldn’t be the same if it meant robbing you of the same place that was supposed to bring you comfort.

And apparently, only he could keep up with his son’s hyper self. Crawling from corner to corner, squealing in excitement and tossing his toys around, Satoru even encouraged his son to grab onto the couch and crawl around the space that was heavily baby-proofed.

“Ah, you’re so eager to walk, aren’t you?” Satoru teases his son as he tries to hold onto the couch and stand up. With a little bit of support on his bum, your baby managed to stand up but freezes there and turns his head to the side where his father was staring at him.

“What, are you scared? It’s not so fun anymore, hm?” Your husband teases your son who seems to be taking his father’s words not very well. He pouts and rests his head on the couch, refusing to look at his dad and Satoru laughs out loud.

“Come on, I was only joking, you’re good at everything just like your dad.” You eventually walk down the stairs and you raise an eyebrow at your pouting eleven month old son.

“What did you do?” you immediately pin the blame onto your husband who gasps and puts a hand on his chest.

“I didn’t do anything!” He pats your son’s bum as your baby’s wobbly legs try to move him around the couch and towards you. “He stood up and got scared, and I found it funny.”

“Oh baby,” you squat down to your baby’s level and reach out your hands to grab him. “Papa is so mean, isn’t he?”

“Am not,” Satoru rolls his eyes but he watches as your son reaches the end of the couch and hesitates to let go. You lock eyes with your baby, and your husband thinks it’s a beautiful example of mothers and babies silently communicating, because no words were exchanged yet your baby knew to trust you completely.

He doesn’t fall into your arms but instead, he pushes himself away from the couch and takes a very small step towards you. You try not to gasp in surprise, and you wait as he takes another step—then another, and another before falling in your embrace and both you and Satoru are wide eyed and surprised at what just happened.

“He just—“

“He walked!” Your husband jumps from his spot on the ground and takes your baby in his arms. “My son is one of a kind! I’m telling you, he will win a nobel prize—“

Satoru always found a way to be excited about any of his son’s milestones.

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