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threehundredfiftynine

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I missed my family so much
Poor thing, she's dying from cringe 😔
I can't leave comments because of some network error
Kataang photographer x model au collab with @/javi_khoso <3
I was drawing Aang and Javi was drawing Katara!
thank u ! <3

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sukuna begs you to forgive him :(
Sukuna had never begged for anything in his life. Not money. Not forgiveness. Not help. Not even when he was twenty and working three jobs while trying to raise a screaming toddler who kept drawing on the walls with permanent marker while Choso slammed doors and screamed that he hated him.
Sukuna handled shit himself. Always. That was why this felt so wrong.
Why it felt like his ribs were cracking open every second you stared at him without saying anything. The apartment was dead quiet except for the rain tapping against the windows. You wouldn’t look at him.
That hurt worse than the yelling did.
Honestly, he wished you’d screamed.
Instead you just stood there near the kitchen counter with your arms wrapped around yourself like if you loosened them for even a second you’d fall apart.
the jjk men as dads (+ whether they’d be boy or girl dads) ;; 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯
.✦ ݁˖ ft. satoru gojo, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, suguru geto, ryomen sukuna and choso kamo [in that order] ⭑.ᐟ
satoru gojo is the kind of man with pockets so deep that they are practically MADE to spoil a baby girl.
he’s shameless, completely unapologetic in the way he smothers her in gifts, rolling his eyes and playfully sticking his fingers in his ears when you insist that she is only two years old, and won’t remember half of the gifts her gives her by the time she grows up.
he’s absolutely responsible for passing down his humongous sweet tooth onto her as well, insisting that feeding his princess inhumane amounts of brownies at the ripe age of two is entirely normal, and that it’s the absolute least he could possibly do for her. that she deserves to be rewarded for simply coming into his life.
and when you tell his precious baby girl to tidy up her own toys? he absolutely crumbles at her sweet little expression as she toddles over to him, eyes blown wide and lip curled as she silently pleas with him to refute your decision.
what should be your daughter’s tantrum over tidy-up time shortly become satoru’s instead as he silently pleads for you to stop commanding her.
of course, he ultimately ends up doing the bulk of the work for her. it’s the least a father should do, according to him.
and when she puts away a toy or two on her own, without his input? he spoils rewards her with a brand new toy to add to her overflowing toy box.
nanami kento is the type of man to find perfect contentment in settling down and living a peaceful life with his baby daughter and you.
when she was just about to start attending kindergarten, he’d spend his evenings researching hairstyles for her, watching tutorial after tutorial until he was certain he could nail it.
he’d be so gentle about it, making sure he doesn’t tug on her hair, the touch of his large, slightly calloused hands almost feather soft as he pulls her hair into neat braid and ponytail patterns.
kento tries — he really does — to be logical, insists to himself that he won’t over-spoil her, that it won’t help her in the long run. but when she looks so intently at the pretty cake in the pastry shop window, tiny arms outstretched and making grabby hands, he can’t help but turn back to buy her one. just this once.
besides, it’s a nice bakery. if anything, she simply has good architectural preferences.
and on the evenings when her voice is small and weak, voice hoarse from wailing and body shaky from her disturbed sleep, he holds her close to his chest, rocking her gently. he murmurs in a tired, half-asleep voice, trying to soothe her. recounting old experiences. old memories. old secrets. the kinds that he didn’t even let himself hear nowadays. the things that he kept hidden. and yet on those nights, with her frail body pressed against his, her tiny wails and hiccups dragging his heart through his chest, he can’t help but let himself confide in her, voice low and soothing. telling her about the things he never really let himself say out loud, whispering them softly into the crown of her head.
memories of studying alongside haibara. how terrified he was of becoming a father initially. how he dreams of travelling to malaysia, murmuring hushed promises of taking her there one day into her soft skin as she blinks sleepily, finally succumbing to sleep.
toji fushiguro is a natural boy dad. (as evident in the canon!)
he’s the kind of man you’d never expect to see with even a hint of tenderness to him. the kind of man who’s never had to fear losing anything, raised in a world where nothing had ever been promised to him to begin with.
it was hard to fear losing things in a world that doesn’t truly belong to you to begin with.
that is, until megumi came along. quiet, fragile, tender in a way toji had never once had to deal with until now. the kind of fragile that made him want to start fearing things again, the kind that made him know what it felt like to have something worth protecting.
sure, he’s realised that he’s no good at this parenting thing. he’d decided that the moment he felt little megumi in his hands, soft skin and chubby arms and soft wispy tufts of hair. too small, too fragile for him.
but he tries. he tries to show up, truly. and whilst sometimes he might take his teasing a step too far, or might let the odd swear word slip, it’s evident just how much he cares.
evident in the way he spends his free time scrolling through parenting forums and tips. evident in the way he puts up with each game, each roleplay, each antic that megumi pulls. evident in the way he raises him to defend himself through play fighting, always letting megumi get the win regardless. evident in the way he finds himself subconsciously avoiding buying the foods megumi doesn’t like when he’s out grocery shopping.
no matter what, despite feeling out of his depth, despite not knowing how to properly show up as a father, he tries. he really, really tries.
clearly fatherhood has softened him.
suguro geto is 100% a girl dad. to be honest, he’d never considered himself a particularly soft person, nor empathetic. not made for being a caregiver, and especially not a father.
especially not after what happened with riko. he couldn’t. he wasn’t made for empathising, his heart wasn’t able to withstand that sort of pain again. he absolutely had no interest in having kids.
or so he thought. that is, until he had mimiko and nanako. they were different: softer, too small for such a cruel world. something worth trying for again.
he’s gentle — unbelievably gentle. hands gently working through the knots of their hair each day, smoothing them out and brushing them gently. never failing to check if it’s still okay. checking whether it’s hurting them at all.
he even shares his expensive shampoo from time to time. turns a blind eye when they choose to make shampoo potions in the bath tub, pouring his pricey shampoo and conditioner combo into a slushy mixture of fragrances and off-shades.
when you bring it up, he pretends to mind. not in front of them, though. never in front of them. instead, he smiles at them as they show him their pretty new potion and ruffles their hair gently.
of course, there’s the days where they show their sass. tongues stuck out, snide childish comments after being reminded one too many times that it’s bedtime, that they can’t stay up watching monster high all night long. at first, suguru didn’t know how to deal with it. he was out of his depth — entirely. he’d fought sorcerers, swallowed curses, taken on missions alongside the strongest, but having his words denied by two four year old girls had to be the very trickiest he’d encountered so far.
eventually, however, he adapted. he learnt to counter it, playful sassy remarks made back when the girls were just a little bit too argumentative.
yeah. he’s decided that he is definitely meant to be a girl dad.
ryomen sukuna always knew he wanted a boy: a strong, healthy heir to take over as king of curses some day. someone to carry his lineage.
so when he first discovered he’d be having a sweet baby girl, it’s safe to say he was slightly displeased to say the least. devastated, really.
so why, holding his newborn daughter on the way out from the hospital, was his heart secretly almost aching at the sight of the soft fragile thing in his arms? she was tiny, with milky mottled skin and the tiniest wisp of pink on her head. were all babies supposed to look so….weak?
so, a few months later, of course it comes as much of a surprise seeing ryomen sukuna insist on burping your daughter. seeing your amused smile, he grumbles something about it being solely to strengthen her body. no other reason.
but when he holds her so gently, large hand splayed over her tiny soft back as she wriggles slightly in his grasp, he can’t deny the way something tugs just slightly in his chest. of course, the tiny creature slung over his shoulder is ecstatic, gurgling and reaching up to tug at the soft salmon-pink tufts that match her own.
and when she pulls, he can’t help but smile to himself just slightly. maybe the kid really is tough enough to be his heir, with a grip like that.
he wouldn’t admit it so easily to you, but he’s certainly developed more than just simple tolerance to being a girl dad. it’s barely visible, hidden through his simple actions. the way he holds her against his bare chest as she snoozes. the way he finds himself pausing at the baby clothes outfit, eyes skimming the pretty little dresses and onesies. he insists when he arrives home that it was just coincidence. not that he’s making an attempt to spoil her. he even finds himself preparing small snacks for her. contrary to the meat and protein he’d insisted on his future heir eating prior to her birth, he serves her tiny plates of yogurt or animal cookies to chew on, keeping an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t choke.
he eases her hand off and continues burping her, and for a fleeting moment, the scene is almost domestic. him, with his sweet daughter hiccuping and babbling over his shoulder as he pats her back gently. weirdly enough, he could get used to this.
he even almost doesn’t complain when she decides to throw up all over his back. almost.
“tch. brat.”
choso kamo had always been family-orientated. that was a fact — something you both wholeheartedly understood and accepted. he was meant for good company, close bonds, having people to protect.
the first day he brings home his son in the baby carrier at the back of the car, he quite literally cries. not small, subtle tears, no. full-blown sobs, touch shaky but tender as he gently holds the small baby in his hands.
nothing could prepare you for just how devoted choso would be as a father. as though his incredible sense of loyalty and dedication weren’t already admirable enough, fatherhood had increased his efforts tenfold. he was constantly present, constantly trying. pushing himself to limits you didn’t even realise were a possibility.
buying small toys and gifts when out of the house “just because”. helping with nap times, whispering gentle stories into the top of his sweet son’s hair to lull him to sleep. taking it on himself to learn to cook, making note of the exact things your son did (or didn’t) like. teaching him everything he could possibly pass on.
he’d began making it habit to spend evenings recounting stories with his brothers before bedtime. family memories, adventures with yuji, the importance of acting as a good older brother.
then comes along the second child: a daughter this time, with soft skin and big brown eyes and the tiniest wisps of dark brown hair on the top of her head.
he absolutely treasures the both of them. at times he questions how he could’ve possibly lived without having this — without a family to hold, to protect, to cherish.
as expected, he teaches them the importance of family. of honouring their siblings. he'd spend evening after evening retelling stories to the two of them. when he'd get a chance, he'd especially remind the eldest of the fact that he needs to be able to walk ahead of his sibling, to lead as an example.
on his son’s first day of school, he helps him into his uniform, doing his tie gently whilst trying (and failing) to hide the slight tears forming in the corners of his eyes. he feels a tiny lump come to his throat, trying to resist the way his brows twitch into a slight crease at the thought of his baby already having his first day of school.
and a couple of years later, he finds himself in the exact same situation with his 4 year old daughter, him knelt at her side, gently tying her soft hair into smooth pigtails. they’re brown, a few odd messy strands sticking up from where they’re not long enough to secure with the rest of the pigtails. her face has a few loose strands and locks messily framing her face, the slight messy nature of her cute little pigtails much resembling his own. carefully, he smooths out each strand with practiced precision before moving to button up her cardigan for her, flashing her a smile and attempting to blink back a fresh set of tears threatening to spill.
he just can’t help it. not when his sweet family is growing so quickly. not when he’s finally got a complete family of his own, a family to cherish and love and guide.
author’s notes:
i'd been planning on including the jjk boys (aged up) as dads too, would anybody be interested in that maybe???
also thankyou to the lovely brooke @brooklyncircus for giving me the idea for choso’s older son younger daughter idea!!!🥹i was struggling to decide for him
btw i’m very sorry that the writing in choso’s bit is lowkey not great, i’m not a fan of it but i really wanted to post this + have no energy or ability to fix it💔i’m sorryyy!!!
divider creds @/omi-resources @/yeritos @/bhavihelps !!

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strict definitions of gender and sexuality are just gonna have you missing out on good hole
just identified a behavioral pattern within myself
hey no worries lol that just hurt my feelings forever
via

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
brought nothing to the gun fight. whatever man
3 pm: god, I'm EXHAUSTED. going to bed early for SURE.
midnight: I Have Literally Never Been More Awake And Alert