#hold up I'm onto something here
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lokilickedme · 2 years ago
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So...last night me and the boys are watching our nightly episode of Dexter and we hit the one with Julian Sands as Hannah McKay’s abusive rich husband who ends up (rightfully) murdered and dumped in the ocean.
Twenty minutes ago I get a pop-up on my computer saying Actor Julian Sands Has Been Missing For Five Days (hiking in California) and I
Shit
I guess...you guys got anyone else you want us to do?
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v-arbellanaris · 2 years ago
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lol im almost in tears at work thinking about handers. specifically mage hawke and anders. two mages, happily in love and free from the circle. especially older mage hawke and older anders with grey in their hair, (with. KIDS. ?!), and the vague sense of choked awe from the (former) circle mages they meet. when i was in the circle, love was only a game. it gave the templars too much power if there was something you couldn't stand to lose. no mage i know has ever dared to fall in love. this is the rule i will most cherish breaking. how many of them watched their lovers -- lovers they never held or slept with or even kissed -- turned tranquil, how many lost their lovers overnight to failed harrowings. how many mages kept their eyes shut, turned away from intimacy, out of fear it could be used against them. that they would be used against someone else, their lives ripped away for the crime of falling in love. how many heard the screams of mothers ripped away from their children just after birth. how many heard the sobbings of apprentices ripped from their families at night. and then, to see handers -- both mages, both so fiercely, unrepentantly, defiantly in love. mages who love each other, who have loved each other for years, who will always have each other, when they've never had that before. doesn't it give you hope for the future.
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braisedhoney · 1 year ago
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So you said a while ago underfell was your favorite au before. Is that still true or?
Also who’s your favorite character from whatever au you like?
damn, you were around for that? :'D
yeah, underfell used to be my favorite! i think it was smth about being really edgy as a kid, or maybe it was because red was my favorite color. idk man, even now i gotta admit those designs slap really hard.
i'm not really sure if i have a favorite au now though. i do have some ideas for underfell that i like, but i think i see the appeal of most aus bc i just like making new scenarios.
i like the big three a lot (classic, fell, swap). sans is my favorite in classic (predictable i know) if you're not counting gaster, since he isn't technically a canon character. i like both fell paps and fell sans equally, and swap paps is cool. i'd be buddies with that guy.
(i also really like asgore in undertale. the tragedy of the grief-stricken ruler who kills even though it's against his nature for the freedom of his people but also because he's long past convinced he's in too deep is really compelling to me, and by proxy i'm interested in the theoretical stories of all the fallen humans including frisk. also the whole thing with their broken family and chara and—
—whoops the ask is about aus not canon lmao, sorry!)
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kittlyns · 1 year ago
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Good evening girls. Made an absolute fool of myself @ the sams club today
#basically I was like let me go get snacks for the salon since my mom added me to her membership and I haven't really utilized it yet#got my snacks. was like okay let me get a slice of pizza! thatll be good#order my pizza. they tell me it'll be a 12 minute wait. I say that's fine!! and decide to put my snacks in the car while I wait#get out to my car. get all the snacks in. have one case of dr pepper left. haul it up.#one can fucking explodes and covers my light pink skirt in dr pepper viscera and gore#I now look like I've pissed myself#aight. well I already paid for my pizza so I gotta go back...#clean up as much as two napkins allow me to and head back in#ofc nobody cares but it feels like people are looking. whatever. so what if I pissed myself. grow up.#go to fill up my cup w dr pepper (despite the betrayal). no dr pepper.#dear god why. okay. uhhhhh starry???? i guess!!#take a sip. it tastes like shit. oh well. theyre calling my name now#go pick up my pizza. the cheese is nice and melty and it smells good. :) okay. life is still good!#halfway back to the exit I'm balancing my plate on my arm and and I'm holding the cup claw machine-style#the lid snaps off the fucking cup and it spills a good 1/2 cup (cooking measurements) onto the floor#oh my god why. why why why why why.#okay. we can fix this. it's not a ton. put my cup on table and do a cute little walk of shame back to the napkins#get like 50 napkins and do my goddamn best to clean up my mess. goes fine. okay. time to get the fuck outta here before I do something worse#back at my car. open door. holding cup like normal now. lid pops off again and spills all over my skirt a second time.#why the fuck is this happening to me.#out of rage I put my pizza in the car and dump the rest of the cup out on the pavement. tasted like shit anyways#lady in car next to me watches the whole thing.#yeah you're witnessing mental illness bitch. enjoy.#lost my appetite. pizza is good but I don't even want it now
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formula-red · 2 years ago
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clover-the-awesomest · 1 year ago
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OH MY GOD.
I forget about Tumblr for 2 days, then I come back and I find this. MAN what a find it was!
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Part 13!
For the last few days the only time I can function, draw and work is at night. And summer nights are so fucking short jfhfhf
I hate summer -_-
Anyway. All the brothers are in the past now. In one way or another, at least haha
Part 1
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sufficientlylargen · 5 months ago
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It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:
Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.
Guard 1: What weird guy?
Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?
Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?
Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.
Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.
Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.
Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?
Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.
Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.
Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?
Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.
Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?
Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?
Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.
Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.
Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.
Librarian: How long has he been coming here?
Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.
Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.
Guard 2: Wait, really?
Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.
Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?
Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.
Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?
Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!
Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?
Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.
Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!
Archivist: Also he's really old.
Guard 1: Old as balls.
Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.
Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.
Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.
Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.
Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?
Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.
Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.
Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?
Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.
Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?
Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.
Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?
Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!
Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!
Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.
Guard 1: Why not?
Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?
Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!
Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.
Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.
Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!
Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.
Archivist: You're not a baby.
Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!
Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.
Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?
Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?
Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?
Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.
Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?
Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.
Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.
Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.
Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?
Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.
Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?
Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.
Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.
Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?
Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.
Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!
Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?
Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?
Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-
Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?
Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?
Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!
Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)
Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?
Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.
Librarian: Oh.
Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.
Librarian: Oh.
Guard 1: Fuck yeah!
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sylveriasarcana · 3 months ago
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#hey dude. words are going better today#i'm trying to be more sincere about how i feel and not cover everything up with jokes#idk if you remember how often i do that. i hope you don't. i like to think you mostly remember me for my horror movie thing#there are things i wanted to tell you but i was too busy hiding all my emotions. anyway. you know now. i tell you all the time#like that friend I really like? the one you met last week?#i always get so sad when she talks badly about herself#and i never tell her that. i just fake laugh at her self deprecating jokes#i stopped doing that#it felt... really intense. more than it should have#i'm just so not used to doing that#she said “you can be a dick to me anytime man lmao i can take it”#and i just said “I could never be horrible to you.” and i wasn't covering it with a laugh or anything like i usually do#i don't know how she reacted because i wasn't looking at her#but i said something that i really meant. no bullshit#the rush was fucking incredible#and i did it again today#she was saying how she was shit at something and i just said. i didn't agree that she was shit at things#i don't think she sees me as anything other than a friend but#i'd still like her to see the real me. not the bullshitter that turns everything into a big joke#i don't know many people i want to be real with. it never feels safe#i want to hold onto this one#i like being myself with her#anyway sorry if tonight's movie wasn't up your street. especially since it was an audio commentary#or maybe it was? you loved behind the scenes stuff. just not sure how much you're into behind the scenes stuff for Saw#oh my god!!! i just remembered!!!!! we literally had a conversation about Saw when you were still here!!!!!!!#holy shit dude i continue to annoy you with my Saw agenda from beyond the grave#this is fucking hilarious#tw death#own post#big stupid crush
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dogearedheart · 4 months ago
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I am so bad at being casual about anything
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dekuneho · 3 months ago
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no one else's ☆ ( ​thirdyear!katsuki x fem!reader ) mdni | suggestive
Kirishima taps Katsuki on the shoulder very gently, looking embarrassed as he chokes out, “Your girlfriend fell asleep on the couch.”
Katsuki would’ve brushed it off with a snap that anyone could use the fucking couch who gives a fuck, but his eyes slide to Kirishima’s other arm holding a disgruntled Mineta up. Immediately, Katsuki’s gut twists in displeasure, the pencil in his grasp snapping in half.
“Did you fucking do something?” Katsuki hisses out, yanking Mineta’s collar to face the full brunt of his sneer.
“No!” Mineta cries out, having the nerve to sound disappointed. “No, I didn’t, dude. Get off me.”
And before Katsuki could kill Mineta right then and there, Kirishima swerves him out of the way. Don’t get your hero license revoked over him, Kirishima’s eyes seem to say.
“He’s telling the truth, man, don’t worry about it.” Kirishima then glares soundly at Mineta, disappointment evident. “He was acting weird, though. That’s why I got him.”
“Traitor,” Mineta says, wriggling uselessly mid-air.
“I’ll kill you,” Katsuki swears to him, before storming off, each step heavy with pure murder.
The rest of the class is smarter than Mineta. They avert their gazes and mind their business — or it could be that they can sense the unadulterated rage emanating from every pore of his body.
Yet as he reaches you, every trace of that same rage dissipates into the air. His eyes outline your body, dead to the world, shorts hiked up with one leg curved — laid unaware. No wonder some freak like Mineta wanted to prey on it.
Katsuki sighs. "Always giving me damn trouble," he mutters to your sleeping figure, snorting when there's an answering snore.
He heaves you up and off the couch, arms hooking under your neck and the back of your knees. Katsuki pushes past the living room, ignoring the curious stares of his classmates. They all know where he's headed — straight to his room.
You awake to a pinch on your thigh.
When you come to, Katsuki is staring at you heavily, hovering above you with your head between his hands.
"Kats'ki?" you croak out, words stringing together. "Wha's…"
Katsuki begins to crawl down, and down, until his knees hit the floor; until he's face to face with your legs. You're still swimming through the sluggishness limbo of being half-awake, lagging behind only moments after Katsuki. You feel his grip on your ankle; it tickles, it's warm.
He lowers his head and pins your knee down with a searing kiss. The sensation spreads to your entire body. You shudder, toes curling. Katsuki smiles against you, his hands sliding up to your thighs.
"Too early," you whine. But you don't push him off; you press against him closer.
"'s already 6 AM," Katsuki says, pushing your legs open.
The touch of cold air and the sporadic puffs of Katsuki's breath have you sinking deeper into the bed, pleasure crawling in every part of your body that he's taking by force, in the gentlest way possible.
Katsuki latches his mouth onto the inside of your thigh, inching deeper at your gasp. You suck air through your teeth, taking every control you have left not to snap your legs shut and force Katsuki out. When he pulls off, your thigh is left with a clear bruise. He doesn't stop there — he dives in again on a different point.
"As soon as we get our ass here," Katsuki murmurs against your skin, his breath hot on your evening-chilled skin, "I'm taking you out; we'll go apartment-hunting."
"W-what?"
"And you can wear whatever the fuck you want," he continues, licking at the mark, "or nothin' at all — I don't give a shit. No one else, just us. You hear me?"
You sit up, nearly knocking your knee against Katsuki's face. "You're asking me to move in with you?"
Katsuki scowls, the telltale sign of a blush creeping to his face. "You have other plans?"
"No, no," you cup his cheek, kissing the pout of his lips; "never, if it's not with you."
Katsuki appears satisfied, claiming your lips in a deep kiss. You draw away from each other with a stuttered gasp, heat pooling in your stomach at Katsuki's delighted gaze. "No turning back," he whispers. "Got that? This'll be no one else's."
Dizzy with need, you can only say, "Yes, yes. No one else's but yours, Katsuki. Now, please go back in between my legs."
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alexiroflife · 4 months ago
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jjk men when you aren't feeling well but try to hide it...
"hello! i was wondering if you could write an angst but w comfort fluff headcannon w the jjk men? i was thinking reader has an injury or is sick but she hides it, but they find out. it would be great if you can, but if not i totally understand. your writing is amazing!!!" -anon
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gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna
satoru gojo: (sprained ankle!)
you're fucked.
you know you are the moment you go to pick yourself up from your boyfriend's hardwood kitchen floors and wince in pain in reaction to the pressure in your left ankle.
you hiss, immediately stumbling back to a sitting position. You look over your outstretched foot to find that your ankle is rapidly swelling, and you curse under your breath.
this is so inconvenient. of all times to injure yourself, you of course had to a day before an important mission. you never handle injuries very well. you are always so quick to brush them off, or at least be in denial about them because you can't stand the thought of feeling helpless or incapable.
especially not when satoru gojo is your boyfriend, who unfortunately knows you far too well to overlook something like an injury to your ankle.
damn. what are you supposed to do? satoru will never let you out of his sight, let alone allow you to go on this mission if he finds out about your injury. as much as you love the way he looks after you, you're not in the mood to accept the fact that you may not be able to walk for a few days without his help.
you try to stand again, stubborn with determination. you grip onto the countertop and rise slowly on your able foot, then lean to press your injured foot down slowly. okay... not so bad! Maybe you can add just a little bit more pressure, and-
"fuck," you curse, sharp pain throbbing through your foot the moment you try to walk. You lift your leg immediately and whimper, leaning your body against the counter. "god dammit," you pout.
you should ice it, you think, but icing it will only make the injury more real. maybe it's not so bad, right? maybe if you just sit down for a bit and push it to the back of your head, it will go away?
you know it's not smart, but truthfully, you don't have the time to worry about a stupid ankle. you're sure you only irritated it. with some rest, you'll be fine.
you hop your way up the stairs with your hand gripping the railing tightly to your shared bedroom and ease yourself into bed. you decide you'll take a nap while you wait for satoru to come home, ignoring the simmering pain in your swollen ankle.
"babyyy!"
you wake suddenly to the sound of satoru's voice singing through the house. you jump and immediately hold in a whimper of pain when you accidentally shift your foot beneath the covers. you can tell solely by the lack of mobility in your ankle that it's, unsurprisingly, gotten worse.
you panic, moving quickly to prop your back up against the headboard. you fix yourself in the most normal possible position you can without agitating your foot, and you turn to the door with an innocent expression the second satoru bursts through with a beam.
"hey, pretty," he walks in and immediately crouches over the bed to wrap you up in a hug. you cringe as his lips meet every crook of your face, his body enveloping you in warmth. "missed you so much today," he sighs.
"missed you too, toru," you wrap your arms around his back. "how was your day?"
"same old same old. the higher-ups only get more annoying each day, if that's even possible," he grumbles into your ear, slumping against you. "what are you doing cooped up here all by yourself? you taking a nap?"
"yeah, I just woke up," you tell him with a hefty exhale, his lips meeting the crook of your neck lazily as he nuzzles into you. "you wanna take one with me, you big baby?" you giggle.
"god yes," satoru agrees. "but first, I'm starving. did you eat while I was gone?"
"nah, I waited for you, toru."
"well, you normally cook, baby, I was waiting for you."
you momentarily freeze and he pulls back reluctantly, not before dotting one more kiss to the crook of your jaw. you had completely forgotten about making dinner, but seeing how you couldn't even walk, those cards were off the table.
he looks down at you with his arms propped on either side of your figure on the bed. your ankle continues to throb, and while you try to hide the pain that you are currently in by shifting ever so subtly beneath him, his sapphire eyes catch the twitch in your brow and the motion of your body beneath his blindfold.
"not that I care if you cook or not. obviously you were tired..." he trails off. "you okay?"
fucking hell, damn those six eyes.
you nod despite yourself, keeping a soft smile as you brush your fingers over satoru's hair. "yeah, of course. just tired like you said. I'm sorry about dinner, it slipped my mind."
"don't you dare apologize," he ducks down to kiss your cheek loudly. "we can go out to eat. make it a date before your big mission tomorrow, yeah?"
you internally deflate. the idea sounds amazing, but going on a date would mean getting up, getting dressed, and walking out the door. you're unfortunately physically incapable of doing any of the above at the moment.
satoru watches the way your shoulders slump and your lips part as if to protest, and he tilts his head in slight confusion. "...or not..." he says slowly.
"sorry, toru, it's not that I don't wanna go, i just don't have the energy..." you excuse pathetically.
satoru's face tells you that he doesn't buy your words, but he complies nonetheless. "that's no problem, baby, we can order in instead."
you sigh and nod with a gentle smile. "that sounds great."
"someone's feeling real lazy today, huh?" he teases, hooking his finger into his blindfold to peel it from his face, revealing his bright irises gazing curiously down at you. "you sure you're just tired?"
"yeah... why?"
"i'm just askin," he says. his eyes dart over you one more time before he pushes himself up with an exhale and tugging at your arm. "come on, let's go to the living room to order."
why the hell does he want to move around so much?!
"um- why can't we just order here?"
a smile quirks on Satoru's lips as though you've made a joke. "cause, we'll be downstairs once the food gets here," he says.
you pucker your lips slightly and tilt your head. "can't we just eat it up here and you can go get it?"
gojo's eyes are now slim with suspicion as he pulls himself back over to you. "i mean, of course i can but you never eat takeout in bed, we always cuddle downstairs and eat."
"I'm tired, can't i change it up today?"
"you know i have no problem doing what you want and pampering you baby," satoru starts slowly. his eyes dash to your legs, and he suddenly notes that he has not seen you bend them in the few minutes he has been home. in fact, you had been rather stagnant instead of running up to clobber him when he entered the room, whether you were previously asleep or not. "but you're acting a little weird."
"no, I'm not," you deny adamantly. you have always been a poor liar, but in the face of Satoru Gojo, your lack of talent in the arena only proves to be more prominent. "you think too much, you know that?"
"you think so?" he raises a brow at you, a hint of playfulness remaining though it is steadily fleeting the longer he examines you. "you think i'm thinking too much if i feel like you're lying to me?"
you press your lips together tightly. "...yes."
"hm," he nods. "come here for a second, pretty," he requests, stepping back a bit to give you room to stand. "just real quick, then you can lay back down and I'll get us that food."
"why do you want me to stand?"
"i wanna give you a big hug," he opens his arms widely. "c'mon, give your loving boyfriend a hug. you'd never deny me that after such a long day."
"come hug me here, then," you roll your eyes, turning to look the other way as heat overtakes your body.
"i want to hold you and pick you up," he argues, knowingly. "just stand and walk to me for one second."
"no."
"no?!"
"no, i don't want to."
"don't want to or you can't?" he accuses, face falling along with his arms. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed beside your legs, resting a hand over your uninjured one. "why can't you get up?" he asks, this time a tad more serious.
"i don't feel like it, satoru, god," you murmur in annoyance, growing agitated with his swiftness to notice that something is wrong.
"don't 'satoru' me, baby, you're the one not telling the truth," he says. "what's wrong with your legs?"
"nothing."
"then stand up."
"no, satoru. stop telling me to stand."
"i will if you tell me what's wrong."
"nothing's wrong!" you shrug harshly, crossing your arms and suddenly taking interest in whatever is outside of the bedroom window. satoru stares at you intently for a moment then back down at your covered legs.
he gazes harshly between the two, pondering, before reaching over to rip the comforter upward to reveal your bare feet. you gasp slightly, jerking to stop him, when your swollen ankle is revealed.
his brows immediately angle and he leans to hastily look over it. "(y/n), what the hell?! what happened to your foot?"
you grow embarrassed suddenly, moving to brush his hands away. "it's not that bad, stop," you say, going to move your leg to the side when you hiss sharply.
"not that bad? baby, your ankle's the size of a golfball!"
"satoru, you're being dramatic."
"what happened?" he asks, concerned. "did this happen while I was gone?"
"it's fine, relax."
"(y/n)," satoru begins sternly. you can tell that you've pinched a nerve. "i'm about to lose it if you don't tell me how this happened and why you were trying to hide it from me."
you frown. "But-"
"Now."
you hug your arms around yourself with another meek shrug. "it's humiliating..." you murmur.
satoru softens slightly. "baby, humiliating? i'm worried about you getting hurt."
"yeah, but-" you sigh and close your eyes, your emotions suddenly getting the best of you. you hate feeling small and weak, as though you can't handle yourself, and you swear every time you injure yourself or get sick, it's the worst possible thing that could happen in the entire world. "i don't know. whatever."
"uh uh uh," your white-haired boyfriend tuts, leaning over the smooth his hand over your leg comfortingly. "it's not 'whatever.' i know exactly how you are. you can't fool me. is this about your mission tomorrow?"
"it's not just about the mission, toru, i just don't- i hate it when i can't do stuff on my own."
"you don't have to tell me something i'm already well aware of." you give him a look. "don't look at me like that. i know you like the back of my hand, and i especially know when you're uncomfortable."
"i get it, toru," you frown.
"why the attitude, hm?" he asks, leaning over to prop his elbow on the other side of you, his body resting against your lap as he peers up at you gently. "it's okay to get hurt- well, no, it's not okay for you to get hurt because it makes me wanna die, but you get what I mean."
your lips twitch in amusement momentarily, leading satoru to grin widely.
"there's that pretty smile."
"it's just-" you huff. "it was such a stupid thing... i rolled my ankle stepping down from closing the cabinets and when it started getting worse, i thought it was so dumb that something so small did that to me so i left it alone. now it's probably twisted, and i just feel really..."
"you're not weak," satoru interjects urgently. "if that's what you're saying, which i'm pretty sure you are. you're far from what i would call weak."
"still. it still made me feel weak. and i'm supposed to go on that mission tomorrow, and i don't know what the hell i'm gonna tell yaga-"
"forget the mission."
"...satoru, i can't just-"
"you can and you will. you have an injury, baby. you can't walk. it's okay, i'll talk to yaga and he'll get someone else on the assignment while I take care of you."
"but the fact that you even have to do that because i was clumsy!" you shake your head and look down. "it's so ridiculous. and i knew you were gonna worry..."
"of course i'm gonna worry, (y/n). no less than you'd worry for me."
"but you're you."
"so? do you worry for me any less because of that?"
"i mean... i know you're always gonna be fine, but... yeah, i guess."
"you guess?" satoru scoffs. "to think, my girlfriend doesn't care about me..."
"oh shut up," you nudge his head away. his grin remains, face turning back to you as he captures you in his soft gaze. "obviously I worry."
"then, there you go," satoru says. his free hand runs over your hip. "i know you can handle yourself just fine and that you're strong as hell, but whether you're going on a mission or stubbing your toe, I'm worrying 'cause i love you."
you pout slightly. "I love you too."
"i know," he beams, kissing your thigh. "so stop with that. as if you'd ever be weak for getting a little boo boo."
"yeah, but now you're not gonna let me do anything," you whine.
"is there really such a big problem with that?" satoru smirks. "try hiding an injury from me again, and you really won't be able to do anything. now let me see."
he pushes himself up to round the edge of the bed. he kneels down and cradles your foot in his hand delicately, fingers grazing the area of swelling. his brow angles. "can you move it?"
you shake your head slowly. "not without it hurting."
"in all seriousness, baby, you need to take better care of yourself. why didn't you ice it?"
"...i wanted it to go away."
"and you walked up the stairs after rolling your ankle?!"
"i wanted to get into bed!"
satoru lowers his head. "what am i gonna do with you? you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."
"it's really not that serious. i just need to rest it a bit and then I'll be fine-"
"i'm gonna go cook you some dinner, okay? then we can eat in bed and cuddle, and then I'll run you a hot bath later."
"satoru, i just said it's not that serious! please don't go burning down the house because of my ankle. we can literally still order food," you try to convince him, but the blue-eyed man is already on his feet, by your side, and kissing your lips.
"not another word. you're practically dying, now, i have to look after you."
"toru-"
"i'll be right back, i'm gonna grab you some ice and a pillow for your foot."
"satoru!"
but when you call him, he's already zooming out of the room and down the stairs. you sigh and plop your head back against the headboard with a soft smile. as humiliating as you find it to be injured, you can never say that gojo doesn't do everything he can, if not excessively more, to look after you when you are.
suguru geto: (cold!)
shit.
you step into the bathroom for the umpteenth time today to blow your nose, clearing your searing throat as you do so with a groan.
something in you knew this morning that you were coming down with a cold when you woke up to that dreadful scratch in the back of your throat, but the idea of getting sick physically ails you more than actually being sick does.
you're far too busy today to be weighed down by some common cold. you're in between meetings at work as you toss another tissue into the women's trash. You have paperwork to finish filling out by midnight, and you have to pick up the girls later from daycare.
how can you be sick of all things?
you know it's likely because you run yourself ragged more often than you need to, and suguru always tells you to slow down and take a breath, but you rarely listen to him. your life moves at a quick pace, constantly on the run from one task to the next, and you truly do not feel that you have the leisure of giving yourself one second to rest.
you're on the verge of earning a new promotion, and you need the money. you need the opportunities, and the accomplishments to care for the family you've built with geto. just as suguru works tirelessly to manage his cult, you work tirelessly to keep a living for yourself.
you're proud of the work you have done, truly you are, but at times it feels as though you are amounting to nothing, chasing promises of a higher position that have yet to come. despite the haziness of the path ahead, you push harder and harder each day.
suguru hates it, how you drive yourself to the brink of insanity day in and day out, but you can't help but be an overachiever. you can't help but work hard for those who may not even deserve it.
and now, of course, you're sick. you can feel your temperature spiking, your nose is stuffy, and your head is pounding. you want to go home and curl into bed, but you have responsibilities to fulfill. just a few more hours... then you're home with geto, with the girls, safe in bed just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.
you jump when your phone suddenly rings in your pocket. you pull it out to see your boyfriend's contact, and you straighten yourself up as best as you can to make it sound as though you aren't struggling to breathe through your nostrils.
"hello?"
"hey, babe, how's work going?" suguru's soothing voice echoes through the phone and you sigh, clinging to the comfort his tone provides. you miss him. you want to go home already.
"it's good," you lie. "i have a few more meetings. then some paperwork to finish, but I'll be able to get mimi and nana on time."
"actually, i called to tell you not to worry about that. i got finished up here with the group pretty early, so i'll be able to get them later."
you're relieved that you won't have to expose the girls to your germs in the car. "okay, thanks for letting me know. you need me to pick up some food on the way home?"
"no, we're gonna make pizzas later. the girls have been dying to try it making it from scratch forever, so i'll take them to the store once i get them."
"...oh. okay..." you nod. "there's nothing else you need me to do then?"
"just to come home in one piece," suguru says. "i'm trying to take some stuff off your plate, (y/n). you've been exhausted, and you can't tell me otherwise."
"sugu, I'm fine," you dismiss him, only to turn your head into your elbow to muffle a cough. you forget to mute the call when you do so.
"what was that? are you okay?" the dark-haired man questions quickly. "you're not sick, are you?"
"no, no," you deny fast, voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat quickly. "something was just- stuck in my throat. but I'm fine. i'm not sick."
suguru's quiet for a moment, and you chew on the inside of your lip while you wait for him to respond. you know it's impossible to fool suguru, especially when it comes to matters regarding you or the girls, but you can't handle him worrying over you right now. his concerns would only bring you back to reality, pulling you from this cycle of overworking you've fallen into. you need to keep going. You can't stop, and if suguru knows you're sick, he will make you stop.
"suguru? you there?" you finally say.
"oh yeah, i'm here," he responds rather quickly, and you internally curse yourself. "what time do you get off?"
"uhhh..." you think about it for a moment. it's 3:30 now, and technically you only have an hour and a half left, but since the girls will be picked up by Suguru, you realize you can finish your paperwork in the office. "today's kind of a long day... so I probably won't be home until... 7?"
"(Y/n)."
"i know, i know, but listen, i just have to finish up this paperwork. that's all."
"weren't you just gonna do it at home?"
"well, yeah, but since you're getting the girls, it's kinda easier for me to finish it here..." you start mumbling lowly, knowing that whatever explanation you give is not one that suguru will willingly accept.
"babe, please just come home at a normal time today. you can't keep doing this to yourself."
"i promise it won't be past 7. i swear. just let me get this done, and I'll be home."
suguru releases a hefty sigh, and you can picture him rubbing his thumb against his forehead in stress. "7 o'clock, (y/n). i mean it. if you're so much as five minutes late, i'm coming over there myself with rainbow dragon."
you chuckle softly. "i promise it won't get to that. i'll be fine, alright? i'll text you when I'm headed out."
"okay. I'll see you in a bit."
after your meetings had ended, your cold symptoms grew worse. your coughs were more frequent, a pile of tissues were stacked at your cubicle, and the glare of your computer screen felt as though it was burning a hole into your already aching head.
you feel miserable, and as luck would have it, your boss placed a new stack of papers onto your desk to finish filling out before you went home on his way out of the door.
you're alone in the office now, surrounded by excess assignments, and you can hardly breathe through your nose. you check the time, and its thirty to the time you told suguru you'd be home. you groan, rubbing your hands over your face.
you're tired. your bones are aching. you want to be with the girls, you want to be home, you don't want to do this anymore. you're so burned out, it hurts, and you want to cry and collapse face-first onto your desk at the same time.
just then, your phone lights up with a message from suguru. you open it eagerly to be greeted with an image of the girls beaming up at the camera in the kitchen, hands covered in tomato sauce as they display them to the phone. beneath the photo, suguru types.
we miss you :(
you break, placing your phone down and shielding your face in your hands as the tears flow. god, you miss spending time with them. you're hardly home anymore because you've been so busy with work, and you're yearning to be held by your boyfriend, to hear the girls laugh, to sink into the bed combined with your deteriorating physical state makes you feel worse.
you miss having a life.
you don't know how long you spend crying in your empty office before your body shuts down on you completely. the energy you exerted shedding tears in addition to your long days at work send you into a deep sleep. before you know it, you're knocked out with your cheek pressed against one of your unfinished papers.
the second you failed to answer Suguru's text, he knew something was wrong. he calls, and calls, and calls after twenty minutes, but you don't answer. He wastes absolutely no time in calling up manami to look after the girls before trekking out of the house to you with rainbow dragon, just as he promised.
he's prepared to break a window when he sees the janitor leaving the building. he takes the opportunity to swoop in through the doors after grumbling something about his girlfriend being inside, before making his way up to you.
when he reaches your office, he finds you lying in the only occupied cubicle. His eyes go wide as he studies your slumped figure, walking slowly to where you're seated. he notes the tissues and cough drop wrappers crowding your space, then the tears that coat your lashes when he kneels down.
"jesus, (y/n)," he murmurs, swiftly getting to work and clearing your desk of all your trash. when he's done, he crouches by you again and runs a hand over your back. "baby, wake up for me. come on," he coaxes softly.
you stir, face tightening in discomfort. suguru sees the bags under your eyes and his frown deepens. Eventually, you wake with furrowed brows, adjusting your blurry eyes to the sight of suguru gazing down at you worriedly.
"sugu...?" you mumble weakly, only to be interrupted by a few coughs that rack your chest. suguru's heart aches.
"i knew it," he sighs, eyes hardening as his hand strokes over your warm forehead. "why don't you listen?"
"what are you doing here?" you grumble, picking your head up slowly. you're greeted with a retched reminder of your headache, and you wince, pressing your hand to your head.
"we had an agreement, remember?" he reminds you, and you slowly recall. you move to grab your phone and the time reads 7:15. "i wasn't joking."
"suguru..."
"stop," he immediately cuts you off. "look at you, (y/n). you've made yourself sick."
"it's just a- a cough," you murmur, rubbing your irritated eyes harshly.
"that's bullshit, baby," he tells you rather firmly. "i don't know why you're trying to hide this from me when i knew something like this would happen. we're going home."
"no, wait, Suguru, i didn't finish my paperwork yet."
"do you think I give two shits about your paperwork?"
his tone comes off rather harshly, and both of you notice. he blinks his eyes tensely and readjusts himself, attempting to reel in his anger. his anger for you, over your lack of care for your wellbeing, at your fucking boss for letting you work yourself like this.
"you've been killing yourself for weeks, (y/n). i won't let you anymore. this is the last straw."
"hold on," you urge. suguru looks down at you, befuddled. "i really can't just up and leave my work behind like this. I'm sorry, I can't."
"what's more important to you, (y/n)? being healthy or working yourself to death?" he proposes, almost pained by the latter. "if you cared about your well-being, you would have asked for an extension or at least had a conversation with your dick of a boss about doing this another time. anyone can see that you aren't feeling well, and someone who cares will tell you that enough is enough."
"don't make me do this, suguru," you whimper. suguru's face relaxes when he sees your eyes glossing over. "don't make me stop. I can't stop."
"baby," he curls his brows, holding your cheek in his hand as he kneels before you. "why are you doing this to yourself?"
"b-because, I have to..."
"no, you don't. i've been telling you this for years, you don't have to do this."
"but I need to make something of myself. i have to keep going. i can't just quit, because if I do, then what will any of this have meant? why have i been doing this?"
"you're breaking my heart, baby," suguru exhales. "this job doesn't define you. i see how hardworking, smart, and strong you are. i see the effort you put into everything you do. i see the commitment in your heart. i see it everywhere, all the time, and that is one of many reasons why i love you so much."
your lips wobble as you look into his hazel eyes as his voice and words melt you into his palm. you've been moving so fast all this time, you've been trying to prevent yourself from falling into suguru's warmth, which has always had the power to make you do anything he says.
"but I can't stand to watch you make yourself sick because you think there's more you need to do. this isn't good for you. you know it isn't."
you nod, red nose flaring as you sniff. "i know," you admit.
"so please, please take a break. i'm literally begging you. you need to come home and rest. i'll take care of everything else, just come home. lay down. come back to us. to me."
your shoulders jerk as a few tears drop from your eyes. "sugu, i can't do this anymore," you finally give in. "i don't even feel like myself. i just want to go home."
"then let's go baby, come on," he stands and takes you with him in his arms, pressing your body to his as he holds you. you sink into him, your exhaustion and your sickness finally crashing down over you. "i'm gonna fucking kill your boss," he murmurs into your hair.
you laugh weakly against him, closing your eyes. "later. just take me home, now. please."
"yes ma'am," he nods, kneeling down to pick you up into his arms. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.
"m'gonna get you sick," you mutter.
"we can be sick together," he chuckles. "the girls and I can make you some soup. they've been obsessed with cooking lately," he says, leaning over to shut off your monitor before carrying you off to the elevators.
"that picture of them you sent earlier made me so sad. I miss you guys so much."
"i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to upset you that much. i was only trying to guilt you a little into coming home early."
you slap his shoulder pathetically. "asshole."
"i know, i'm sorry," he kisses your head. "gonna get you all better in no time."
kento nanami: (low iron!)
you have always been a little anemic, and of course that never really posed as a terrible challenge for you until you ran out of iron supplements.
it is your responsibility undoubtedly to keep track of when you run out and when you need to restock, but recently, you've found yourself neglecting the habit.
you never did like taking iron pills, or any supplements for that matter. you feel as though they take too much out of your daily life, as though they're a burden to your existence, and the harder you think about it, the less inclined you are to keep track of it.
it's been about three weeks since you last took your iron, and while you would like to say that you have improved significantly, you would be lying.
perhaps the first few days of not taking your supplements was fine, but as time droned on, the symptoms kicked back in rather quickly. you are extremely tired all the time, you feel lighter on your feet as if you are going to pass out at any given moment, and your hands and feet are ridiculously cold though it is now the summertime, and the weather outside thoroughly contrasts your body temperature.
you're in denial about the changes, of course. you want to be able to feel fine without the crutch of your pills, but the reality of the situation is that you don't, and it's crushing you for some reason.
what's crushing you more is that you know how disappointed nanami will be to find out that you haven't been being responsible in stocking up on your supplements. he would normally keep track of when you run out in addition to you, but he's reeled it in a bit over the past few months because you wanted him to trust that you can handle taking care of something that you've managed all of your life, so he did.
and yet, here you are, trying to hide the symptoms of your iron deficiency that are only proving harder to veil. nanami has already asked you a few times if you are feeling okay over the past few weeks, therefore you know that he suspects exactly what is happening, but you brush him off each time.
"i'm good, honey," you'd tell him. "just had a long day. what about you? how are you feeling?"
you feel like shit lying to him, but you're afraid of being truthful for some reason. he would scold you, and you'd have to resort to the aid of your only weakness all over again.
god, why can't you just be normal?
you've even tried to ween off of the strict iron-sufficient diet that you've been on practically all your life because you feel like you have something to prove, especially in this world of jujutsu. how can you be a sorcerer with low iron? how can something so smell render you so weak? it's pathetic.
you don't want to think about it, in truth. you want it all to just go away. you want to be fine, to feel fine without eating certain things constantly or taking those damn pills, and you try to force yourself to, but it only grows worse the longer you hide it.
you stumble into your home after a long day of teaching and press your back to the door with a sigh. you know nanami won't be home for another forty or so minutes, so you kick your shoes off, go grab a water, and plop down on the couch.
you feel so tired. you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, leaning back. this is stupid, you think. you're being stupid. just reorder the damn pills.
but something stubborn within you refuses. something within you that must prove you can push past this.
you decide to watch some tv to distract you as you wait for nanami to return home. he suggested cooking for you tonight, so you rest until you hear him walking through the door.
"hi honey," he greets. you turn to smile gently at him as he rounds the corner. your cheeks pinch with happiness, your current turmoil momentarily forgotten when you see your husband approach. you go to stand and walk into his open arms, just like you normally do when he comes home.
you put the remote to the side and shoot up. your mind is occupied only by nanami as you move toward him, but you see his face drop and your vision turns upside down, and suddenly, you're falling.
kento is quick to react, ducking down impressively to catch you in his arms before you can hit the ground. you collapse into him, head dizzy and breath suddenly gone.
"sweetheart?! (y/n) are you alright? are you awake?"
you groan, shifting in his strong arms as they cradle you securely. when your vision regains focus, you're staring up at nanami's worried face, your body resting over his lap. you blink rapidly before realizing what just happened.
"oh shit," you whisper.
"(y/n)," nanami says your name again, caressing your cheek sweetly. "are you here with me now?"
"y-yeah," you nod, moving to sit up and press your hand to his chest. "i'm alright."
"absolutely not," he stops you immediately, pressing against you to lay you back down on his lip. you frown, looking up at him. "don't even try sitting up like that right now."
"kento," you start, growing worried by the tense look on his face. "i'm okay, really. i just sat up too fast."
"i know," he affirms, his thumb still smoothing over your skin. "and care to tell me why that alone is making you pass out?"
you can't find the words to respond as you stare at him, likely as guiltily as you feel. he hums knowingly.
"right," he sighs. "(y/n), how long has it been since you've taken your iron?"
and there it is. the very question you had been dreading.
"...i'm not sure what you're-"
"don't. really, don't," he interjects firmly and you shiver, rather unfamiliar with this side of your doting partner. "i'm still trying to adjust to the fact that you haven't been truthful with me. the least you can do is tell me how long it's been."
your heart drops. "kento..."
"i'm not in the mood for stalling, sweetheart. go on. out with it."
the sternness of his voice hardly matches the way he is holding you and stroking your cheek, but nevertheless, you feel awful. you avert your gaze and shrink into yourself. "three weeks."
"three?" he repeats incredulously, and you nod in shame. "i knew it had been over a week, but three, (y/n)?"
"i know," you mutter.
"why? after you told me not to check after you, to trust that you'd take care of yourself," nanami questions. "this is why i tried to help you. i know it can be a hassle sometimes, and forgetting is one thing, but to deliberately stop taking them when you know how much i worry about it... when you know how important it is for you?"
you bite hard on your lip and look away, brows curling. nanami notices immediately and softens himself, leaning down closer to you.
"my love," he starts. "i don't mean to upset you, but this is very upsetting to me."
"i know. i know, i'm sorry..." you whimper.
"but not because it's about me, (y/n), because it's about you. and you've been hiding this from me, of all things. i don't understand."
"i just didn't wanna take them anymore, ken," you say quietly.
the blonde furrows his brows. "you didn't want to take them? have you not been taking them for years?"
"i have but that's the problem. i'm a sorcerer now, and..." you exhale. "the point of being a sorcerer is to not have anything weighing you down, and this weighs me down."
"if anything, (y/n), not taking the supplements weighs you down more."
"no, i just mean- all of it, the whole iron deficiency, i hate it," you confess. "i'm tired of relying on something to be strong. i'm tired of being tied down to this. i wanted to see if i could overcome it, but i can't. i'll always have this problem, and it sucks, ken," you ramble. "if i could go without taking these pills and still do my job like i always have, then just maybe.... maybe i could be better. and i could prove that i... i don't need those stupid pills, or the extra greens, or the- whatever. just all of it."
nanami looks down at you rather sadly. "i had no idea you felt this way."
"i haven't always felt this way. it's just lately, i don't know, i feel pressured to go beyond."
"darling, your iron-deficiency doesn't make you any less talented than other sorcerers."
"i know. i mean, i should know, but i can't help but feel that way."
nanami presses his lips together, smoothing a knuckle over your cheekbone. "i'm sorry you feel like this."
"it's not your fault, ken. and i shouldn't have kept this from you, i know. i'm sorry. i just felt humiliated by it."
"there's nothing for you to be humiliated by," he reassures you. "your deficiency is no different from any of us having to feed ourselves or drink water in between missions to keep ourselves alive. it's a necessity, and though we are sorcerers, we live off of necessities to keep ourselves physically and mentally able to work. you have a responsibility to yourself. just like the rest of us. just because your iron's a little lower doesn't mean anything about who you are as a sorcerer."
"...i never thought of it like that. i've just been thinking of it as a burden."
"it's only a burden if you view it that way. you are a grade one sorcerer who i have watched climb the ranks effortlessly since we were in high school, all the while with an iron deficiency that you have always taken supplements for. that never stopped you," he says. "the problem comes in when you don't keep up with yourself and take care of those needs. just like how i'd be unable to work if i decided to skip my last few meals and drink less water."
"that makes sense," you mumble, capturing his soft brown eyes with yours.
"good," he nods. "(y/n) you can't neglect your needs like this."
"i know."
"i'm being serious. i'll start checking behind you again if i find out that you're not doing what you need to do to take care of your body."
"i know, ken, i'm sorry, i-" you stop yourself and shake your head. "i just let my insecurities get the best of me."
"then, let me handle taking care of your insecurities. you handle taking your supplements. do we have an agreement?"
you nod slowly. "yeah. we do. i'm sorry for lying again, ken."
"please don't do it again," he sighs, ducking to kiss your forehead. "but i know you wouldn't lie to me about anything else, and that you hiding this was solely out of fear."
you slowly move to sit up, and this time, kento helps you very gradually. he guides you back to sit on the couch and cups your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i'll go order some more iron and then get started on dinner. alright?"
you hum with a soft smile. "alright. i love you, ken."
he returns your loving smile. "i love you more, sweetheart."
choso kamo: (broken finger!)
it had fully been an accident.
you should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and at the same time, so should have panda.
it really was an honest mistake. you were standing in the doorway as everyone left the classroom, your fingers clutched around the frame as everyone filed out. you were asking around if anyone had seen your boyfriend, and yuta mentioned that he saw him with yuji earlier that day.
you thanked him, and just as you were about to pull your hand away, panda, who was the last out of the room, slammed the door shut behind him thinking you had already moved out of the way.
but you hadn't.
the door flew into your index and middle fingers and you screamed bloody murder. the cursed corpse as well as his classmates whipped their heads around, and to panda's horror, you were knocking your forehead against the wall with tears in your eyes as your fingers trembled in the doorframe.
"(Y/N), HOLY SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"
you hadn't expected panda to actually break one of your fingers, but you give the freak credit for his unnatural strength. you later find out that yuji and choso had gone out to grab food for you when you see a text from your boyfriend pop up asking what flavor ramen you want the second you learn that shoko will not be available until late tonight.
for the time being, you're given a finger splint and pain medicine as though you aren't freaking surrounded by jujutsu sorcery.
and god, did it hurt! like, really, really hurt. your fingers are throbbing, and the one that isn't broken is bruised and stained with some blood. you wish you could be angrier at panda, but his groveling before your feet on his knees eases your frustration a bit. after all, it hadn't been on purpose.
you're sent home and you are given no choice but to wait until choso returns, and you're... nervous. choso never handles the ailment of his loved ones very well. his spiritual and physical connection to his brothers wellbeings' often causes him to lose his mind every time yuji gets accidentally punched in the face during training, and when it comes to you? well, choso is just the same if not somehow worse.
you remember one time you got a papercut and winced when your finger made contact with soap. choso was quick to your side, grasping your wrist and looking over your hand as though it had been severed off.
one thing you have come to know in your relationship with the brunette is that he would (and has) killed someone for the sake of the people closest to him. he does not mess around when it comes to his family, and he certainly doesn't mess around when it comes to you.
and while you think he can be a bit excessive with making sure you're alright when it's hardly necessary, it's first and foremost endearing, and it only makes you realize that he will go ballistic the second he finds out that someone broke your finger.
he doesn't naively think that you can never go unharmed, though he would be incredibly content with the notion if it were plausible. he's familiar with scars, wounds, fights, and battles, and he knows you're in the very center of it just as much as he and his brother are. but still, he hates it when you're hurt. he wants to protect you as best as he can, or to at least prevent you from suffering any more than a sorcerer already has to suffer. he only wants you to be safe.
so to prevent him from having a heart attack, you decide it's better if he doesn't know about the incident. when you answer his texts before heading home, you mention nothing about your poor finger in hopes of him not finding out at least until after you're healed.
that plan of yours, however, fails when choso comes barging through the door three hours earlier than you expected him to return. your eyes go wide from where you sit on the couch, and you have no time to even go to hide your fingers behind your back when choso marches up to you, agitated.
"uh-" you're cut off when he grabs your arm gently and lifts it into the air, your taped crooked finger showcasing itself to him. you press your lips together at how poorly the plan to conceal this from him has failed. "cho-"
"were you gonna tell me about this?" his violet eyes fly to yours in a fury, and you're almost stunned by how aggravated he looks. his voice is calm, low, but his face is wrecked with concern and almost betrayal.
"...i was, but i wanted to wait because i didn't want you to freak out..." you say slowly, watching him softly. "like you are now..?"
"that's not fair, (y/n)," he frowns and you furrow your brows. "that's not fair at all."
"woah, hold on... are you mad at me?"
"i don't know," he answers you honestly, looking between your face and your trembling hand. "i'm... upset."
"who told you about my fingers, love?"
"yuji got a text from yuta," he tells you, moving to sit down on the space beside you with your hand still cradled in his. "he said that panda was begging me not to kill him, and this was after i had talked to you."
"oh..." you sigh. "okay, yeah, i can see how that looks."
"why didn't you tell me you got hurt? and pretty badly too? where's ieiri?"
"she won't be back on campus for another hour," you explain. "i didn't want you to worry, cho, i figured i'd just tell you after it was better, but..."
"why would you try to hide something from me?" he asks you, suddenly sounding hurt. it's clear on his face that he doesn't understand why you would conceal something as important as your health from him, whether it was small or not. you tell each other everything, and that shouldn't have stopped now of all times because you don't want him to worry.
"i didn't know you'd get so upset, cho, honestly," you tell him. "i-" you stop when a sharp pain shoots through your fingers and you gasp. choso's face drops and he gently sets your hand down to his lap, panicked.
"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "shit, you must be in a lot of pain."
"it's nothing i haven't experienced before," you try to reassure him, giving him a tight smile.
"why does that matter?" choso drags his brows together. "pain is pain. i don't like when you feel any of it."
you melt. "i know. i know you don't, i don't like when you feel any of it either."
"so don't... keep stuff like this from me, (y/n)," he says sternly. "please, i need to know. i don't have the same connection to you that i have with my blood brothers, but i'm still connected to you all the same. when you hurt, i hurt."
"i get it cho, i'm sorry," you nod bashfully. "i wasn't trying to make you mad. i just don't like it when you're stressed out."
"i'm always stressed out," he says flatly, and you raise your brows with a halfhearted smile.
"yeah, i know. so why stress you even more?"
"i'd rather be stressed about you if i'm stressing about anything," he says, looking over your face as the hardness in his gaze washes away. "you know you're everything to me."
"i know, baby," you push out your bottom lip, pressing your free hand to the side of his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. his ears burn when you pull away, and he sighs heavily.
"don't offend me by trying to hide stuff like this. it won't work."
"i'm sorryyyy," you giggle and choso grumbles incoherently under his breath.
his gaze goes back to your fingers and his brows curl. "how the hell do you slam a door on someone's hand?" he hisses.
"it was an accident, cho, he didn't mean it."
"i know, and i shouldn't really be angry at him but i can't help but be irritated because you're hurt..." his fingers graze the tape. "how bad does it hurt?"
"cho, it'll be okay."
"that wasn't my question."
you roll your eyes at his attitude with a soft smile. "it hurts as much as a broken finger would."
"right. sorry," he murmurs.
"you're okay, love, you don't need to apologize."
"i still wish i- nevermind," he refrains himself from discussing how he wanted to be there to protect you from such an unpredictable occurence. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better while we wait? do you need anything?"
"ummm," you try to think. "actually, could you grab a new pack of ice from the freezer? and... the snacks you got me earlier."
the brunette's face brightens slightly with the thought that he can do something to help ease your pain as you wait for shoko to return to the school.
he nods in determination, carefully sliding your hand into your lap and kissing your cheek before hopping up to run to the kitchen. he returns with the items you requested, placing the snacks down beside him and lifting the bag of ice over your hand.
"like this?" he eases the bag down and you wince, nodding.
"mhm. yeah," you strain out. choso watches your face sadly, hating the fact that you're hurting.
"i'm sorry for getting upset," he mumbles. you turn to look at him curiously. "i just love you a lot."
"i love you more, cho," you smile gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. he sighs, resting his chin atop your head as he ices your hand. "and don't worry, i get it. i won't try to hide injuries from you anymore."
"i really hope so."
"now can you pass me those chips please?"
toji fushiguro: (knife cut!)
toji is going to absolutely kill you, and you are dreading the moment he does.
he has always told you not to touch his weapons. even if you see any of them lying around his place because he never bothers to clean up in between jobs. his one rule when you're over is to leave them alone and to let him handle them when he gets back. he doesn't care how much you protest, he doesn't care that you want to help him pick up after himself.
no touching. that is all he asks of you.
and of course... one afternoon when he's out sorting out some finances with shiu and one of his knives is glaring at you from where it lay on the kitchen table, you can't help yourself.
you don't really think anything is going to happen. after all, you're not a baby, nor are you an idiot. you know how to handle a freaking knife and you know where to put it, and yet, somehow, you allow your arrogance with the task to distract you. you're not handling it as carefully as you should be, and the second you hear the keys jingling outside the front door, you panic.
the blade, naturally, fumbles in your grasp, and swipes through the air, over your palm, and to the carpet. you jump, stepping away as quickly as it falls. you feel a sting in your hand and look down to see the fresh gash stretching over your skin. you gape as blood slowly simmers from the wound, befuddled as to how something like this even happened so quickly.
you have no time to clean it when you hear the key inside the lock. you hurriedly pick up the knife with your unwounded hand, place it back on the table where you first saw it, rip a napkin from said table to press to your bleeding palm, and clench it into a fist just as the door opens.
toji immediately greets you with a raised brow, jade eyes eying you oddly as he steps in. "the hell are you gettin' into?" he asks, confused by the way you are standing against the wall when he enters.
you're quick to move into his space to distract him from the vision of his knife and from looking any further downward from your face. you lean up on your tiptoes, normal hand on his forearm as you kiss his scarred lips. "what do you mean?"
"why were you just standing there like that?"
"can't I wait by the door for you to come back?" you bat your eyelashes, and toji grunts, gazing down at you with lidded eyes as his hand comes around the small of your back. "i'm just happy to see you."
"you take a pill or somethin', doll?"
you glare at him. "now why would you ask me that?"
"you're just acting a little too nice, that's all."
you scoff. "i don't know what you're talking about, i'm literally always happy to see you."
"yeah, but i was gone for thirty minutes and you never make a show of it like this."
"why are you making it sound like i don't show you love? you're the one who's mean all the time," you retort sassily.
a smirk captures toji's lips as he ducks down to kiss you again. "that's more like it," he murmurs against you. "still ain't answer my question though."
"i literally did. i told you i was waiting for you."
"sure," he says, unconvinced. his eyes drag down your body and momentarily go to your fist when you swiftly wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips into him once more.
his brows narrow and as you kiss him, and you can feel the blood on your hand seeping through your napkin. you curse internally, lowering your hand back down behind him as he pulls away.
"not that i'm against this," toji starts, voice dangerously low against your mouth. "but it feels like you're tryin' to distract me from something."
"why would i be doing that?" you ask gently, looking up into his piercing eyes. he hums, dragging himself away from you. he grabs your chin softly and tilts your head left and right, looking over your face. "what are you doing?" you ask.
"lookin' for whatever you're hiding."
"i'm not hiding anything, toji."
"uh huh."
shit. it's never a good sign when toji doesn't even try to pretend to believe anything you're saying, and the way he's looking over your face let's you know that he at least suspects you've done something to yourself that he should know about.
you keep your fist to his back as he looks over the rest of your body with a rather relaxed expression, which only means that he doesn't suspect you touching any of his weapons. yet.
you have to keep his attention away from the knife on the table so that he doesn't figure it out.
"can you stop messing around already? i wanna go take a shower," you try to say, but toji doesn't listen.
"turn around f'me."
"huh?"
"huh?" he mimics you, looking at you unimpressed. "turn."
you suck your teeth. "i hate when you get like this."
"and i hate when you lie, now turn."
you grimance. you can't turn around with him looking down at your hand, and you're sure by now that the napkin you hold is coated red. your eye twitches in that moment when you feel a line of blood drip down your wrist.
god dammit. you're so dead.
nonetheless, you try to keep your palm facing inward as you slip it from his back and turn over your left shoulder, which connects to the uninjured hand. the second your back is to him, you bring your bloody hand in front of you.
"yeah, no," you hear toji gruffly say. your heart hammers in your throat and you know what's coming next. he moves around you to wrap his hand around your wrist and tug at it.
you cringe, allowing yourself to accept your fate when he pulls forward your balled up hand.
"open."
"can't we just-"
"open."
you sigh heavily, slowly peeling open your palm to reveal the red-stained napkin balled in it, the line of blood rushing down your inner arm, and the slice that stretches across your hand.
toji's eyes blow wide, and before he asks you anything, he throws his head over his shoulder to locate the knife that sits on the table. "are you fucking kidding me, (y/n)?" he growls, turning back to face you angrily.
"okay, let's not act like this is so crazy!" you immediately defend, throwing your other arm up. "you leave your shit lying around all the time!"
"and every single time, i tell you that i'll take care of it. what the fuck, do i have to go child-proofing the house now because of you?"
"if you would just be more mindful of how you leave your space, you wouldn't even have to worry about shit like this! you shouldn't even have knives lying around in the first place."
"i'm a grown man, (y/n), i know how to avoid cutting myself with the weapons i use daily."
"you're being a prick."
"oh baby, you must not know me because i'm about to be worse," he grunts, eyes heated with fury, and you frown.
"toji, come onnn, it was an accident."
"what do i always say about my weapons, (y/n)?"
"i just wanted to help you put it away, is that so crazy?"
"what. do i say. about my weapons."
you deflate slightly, uneased by the rate at which toji is growing angry with you. "...not to touch them."
"so why the fuck did you touch them?" he growls, picking up the napkin in your palm and tossing it over his shoulder. he looks over your wound and clenches his jaw. "fucking hell, (y/n)."
"look, i'm sorry."
"shut the hell up and come on."
despite his rage, he leads you to the bathoom with surprising care.
when you arrive, he flicks on the light with his free hand and swipes up a cloth from under the sink. he turns to you, pressing it down to your wound to stop the bleeding. once it seems like it's done, he puts the cloth down and turns on the faucet. "put your hand under," he orders, guiding it to the cool water nonetheless.
the water hits your open wound bitterly and you jump, watching the blood run through the drain as toji washes your arm as well.
"sit," he nods over to the bathtub, shutting off the faucet.
you oblige mutely, shuffling over and holding out your hand. you sit slowly on the ledge of the tub and watch as toji shuffles through his cupboards for a bottle of peroxide, some bandages, and ointment. you dread what is coming, for you know your hand is gonna sting like a bitch.
toji thuds over to sit hunched on the closed toilet lid, leaning over to grab your hand again. you stretch your fingers out and he sighs, shaking his head. "so fucking hard-headed," he murmurs.
you watch him screw open the bottle of liquid.
"go slowly," you plead.
"it's gonna hurt all the same, doll," he tells you, and you pout. "you should listen next time, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through this."
"shut the fuck up."
toji clicks his tongue, glancing at you momentarily before leaning down and holding the bottle over you, grasping your wrist loosely with your hand above his knee. "keep still."
the peroxide comes flooding out of the bottle and onto your hand, bubbling instantly over your gash. you whimper, tensing your body and scrunching your eyes at the sting.
"i know," toji mumbles, smoothing his thumb gently over your wrist. "you're alright."
your fingers dig into your thigh as it continues to burn. toji leans over to put down the bottle and continues to caress your arm, lowering your hand to his lap. he blows over your palm slightly as the peroxide dries, and you eventually open your eyes.
"not so bad," he tells you. he leans himself back to reach for a new cloth then pats it around the gash, drying your hand and your arm. he reaches back again for the tube of almost empty ointment he found and twists it open, squeezing it over your wound. "shit, hold on," he stops. he lets you lift your hand as he rushes to wash his own before coming to sit back down at hold yours on his leg again, now with bandages in hand.
you watch him gently as he works the bandage over you with such attentiveness, a dip in his brow proving his focus. you suddenly feel guilty for making him worry.
"i'm sorry," you finally say again, this time with more meaning.
toji's green eyes snap up at you amidst his wrapping. "yeah?"
"i really was just trying to help you. didn't mean to stress you out."
toji sighs, pausing his movements to look you in the eye. "you need to be more careful. i tell you not to touch my stuff because it's not your responsibility. obviously i know you can yourself, but some of my shit's really dangerous and i don't want you gettin' hurt," he gestures to your hand. "it could've been a lot worse, but still."
"if you don't want me touching your weapons, toji, you should probably clean them up more," you quirk a brow and he exhales loudly.
"i'm seeing that now, yeah," he says. "i'll be more careful if you are. don't need my doll getting a bunch of scars 'cause of me, now."
you smile softly. "yeah. i won't touch your stuff anymore, i promise."
"...how about instead i just... teach you how to handle 'em the right way?"
you perk up. "really?"
"i don't see why not. i'd rather you know how to use some of it than see you scrape yourself up because you don't know how to hold a knife."
"don't be a smartass."
toji smirks, continuing with his wrapping of your hand. "i mean it. i'll sit down with you sometime to show you."
"...how about after we're done here?"
"don't fucking push it."
ryomen sukuna: (fever!)
you wake up in a cold sweat, shivering.
you groan in displeasure, rolling over, slightly discombobulated. it can't be any later than 7 am, but you are boiling hot. you press your hand to your forehead and curse. you're sweating profusely and you feel incredibly lightheaded.
you don't even have the energy to get up, but you know that you need to take your temperature. you shudder, carefully shuffling out of bed and wincing as every brush against your skin feels like the stab of a thousand pins and needles.
you lethargically make your way to your bathroom, the cool air hitting your neck and sending you into a fit of shivers. you cling to yourself, teeth chattering, and reach into your cabinet for a thermometer. with half-open eyes, you pop it under your tongue and make your way back to your bed, bundling up in your blankets and curling into a ball.
it feels like hours before the beep resounds, and you slowly lift it from your mouth to read the little digital numbers.
102.4. perfect.
you shudder in pain, tossing the thermometer to the side and nestling your face in your pillows. you feel like absolute shit, but you can't bring yourself to do much else. you need medicine, water, a cool compress, but none of those things you have access to currently.
you close your eyes as your mind swarms, body throbbing and shuddering with chills though the last thing you need is to be cuddled under the covers. you think maybe it will go away if you get some rest. maybe you just need to relax, to take some time in bed. you'll let sukuna know when-
shit! sukuna.
there's no way in hell or on earth that sukuna will allow you to go untreated if you tell him, but god, you don't feel like letting him know. despite his likely haste to make sure you have everything you need, you can only imagine the snarky comments about your fragility, your strange body, your vulnerability that he''ll spout.
you don't want to hear it. you don't want to hear any of it, because you're sure that if you do, you'll start crying. you're already worn down, clearly, and the last thing you need on top of a fever is your boyfriend joking about your weak state.
you elect to stay in bed and tell sukuna you'll see him another time if he pesters you today.
which of course, he does.
a whirlwind of alarming dreams that you almost thought were hallucinations are disrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone on your dress. you groan, reaching out a shaky hand to blindly grab the device and answer the call, pressing it to your ear with no knowledge of who you're speaking to.
"yes?" you croak.
"can't answer a telephone call the first time it rings?" sukuna's voice thunders through the mic, and you lift your brows.
"kuna?" you try to say his name normally, despite the constant chatter of your teeth.
"who the hell else would it be?"
"sorry... i was asleep."
"at this hour?"
"...what'dy'mean?"
"jesus, woman, it's 2 in the afternoon. why the hell are you still in bed?"
you reel momentarily at his words. 2 pm? it was just 7 in the morning! have you really been sleeping all this time?
"oh..." is all you can manage to say before a chill wracks your body again. you cringe, curling into yourself and holding the phone away from you.
"oh?" the king of curses repeats. "what is the matter with you?"
"n-nothing," you respond quickly. "i guess i was up late last night. i was c-completely knocked out..." you tremble.
"last night you told me you were going to sleep early because you were tired, you brat."
fuckkkk.
how could you have forgotten about that? you hadn't been feeling well last night, which is likely the reason why you feel so much worse today, so you turned in early. "i- couldn't fall asleep until later, though," you mumble.
"you are attempting to deceive me," sukuna grunts. "care to explain why?"
"m'not, kuna," you sigh halfheartedly.
"what exactly do you take me for?"
you're really not in the mood for this. you're aching at this point, and you can tell your body temperature has only risen. you're so weak. you can barely even process the fact that you're on the phone, and you can't handle sukuna's attitude. not if he's not going to help, which you automatically assume that he won't.
"i'm going back to bed," you say softly.
"what do you mean back to bed?!" sukuna fumes. "seriously, what the hell is the matter with you. you sound ill."
"i'm not i-ill."
"then why do you keep stumbling over your words, woman?" he questions, his voice mellowing out into a steady intensity. "what is it now? your monthly plague? whatever you people call allergies?"
this is exactly why you don't want him to know. he handles these things too crudely, as if it's a burden upon his existence. "y-you ask too many damn questions."
"i wouldn't have to if you answered them. now talk."
"i'm fine, sukuna. i'm just gonna go back to sleep."
"you hang up this phone, i'm at your door in two seconds."
"that's impossible."
"try me."
you know he's serious, but you don't have the energy. you can't stay on the phone with him any longer, trying to speak like nothing's wrong. it's cold. so cold, but you're so hot. you're probably drenched in a pool of your own sweat, but you can't feel it. you want to sleep. you just want him to let you sleep.
your vision grows dizzy as you stare ahead, brows arching in discomfort. you think you press the end call button, but you can still hear his voice picking up in urgency... is he shouting? are you even on the phone anymore? you aren't sure.
your vision suddenly drifts into inky blackness as the phone rests beside you on your pillow. the last thing you are aware of before you slip into unconsciousness again is banging at your front door.
sukuna bursts into your apartment mere minutes after you stopped answering him on the phone. he looks about ready to kill, crimson eyes wide and pupils shrunken as he breathes heavily, looking all over your apartment.
he's stomping to your room and throwing the door open when he sees you laying in the bed. "(y/n)!" he barks, searching for some response from you, but all he recieves or nonsensical murmurs.
he moves quickly to the side of your bed and grabs at your shoulder, turning you over to find your sheets drenched and your face tight with discomfort. he falters, heart jerking at the sight. "...the fuck?"
he presses a hand to your sweat-drenched face and furrows his brows in concern. you're hot. too hot for the temperature of a human being, and you're sweating like crazy, mumbling things under your breath in your sleep he can't even hear.
"the fuck did you do?" he grumbles, starting to internally panic. he scrambles to remember what this could be. he knows of plague, of pestilence, so maybe you're suffering some form of that?
hell, he can't tell. not from a glance. he's not even sure if he knows how to help you. you're entirely too hot for him to brush this off like it's nothing, and you passed out in the middle of speaking to him.
he looks over and sees the thermometer on your sheets and leans over to pick it up. the screen reads a high number, which he assumes is the temperature of your body. curious himself, he prods open your jaw and tucks it into your mouth, pressing the button the way you had shown him when you had the flu to reset the time.
"come the fuck on," he growls as seconds tick by before it beeps, and he pulls it from your lips to read 104.7.
he doesn't know how far it is from your usual temp, but he knows it's high. too high.
he's quick to dial uraume for some more information, and the second he hears that you need immediate medical help, he's picking you up and making a run for it without even thinking that uraume can likely help you.
when you wake, you're blinded by nauseating lights blaring down overhead. "ugh," you groan, feeling light and disoriented. you turn your head to the side and blink, to find sukuna's face staring directly at you rather harshly.
you jump slightly, startled. "what-?" you start, scrunching your eyes to adjust to the sight before you. "sukuna? what are you..." you trail off when you realize that you aren't in your house, nor are you at sukuna's estate. instead, you're in a hospital bed hooked up to a series of fluids.
your eyes go wide as you sit up suddenly, only to be hit with a sudden dizzy spell that sends you leaning back into the bed.
"don't move," he orders, and you turn to him in confusion. never would you have expected to see the day that sukuna sits in a chair beside you in a hospital.
"why are we... what happened?"
"apparently you had a high fever," he answers harshly, fist-propping his chin up over his leg. "too high for you to be seen in my care, and too high for you to be lying in bed as though nothing was wrong."
your heart sinks. "how high?"
"when we got here, tipping past 105."
"...are you serious?"
"i had to come bust down your door to make sure you were alive. i put you on an empty roller downstairs because these fucking dumbass doctors can't see me and i had to get their attention so they could notice you. yes, i am serious."
he sounds pissed. and you hardly want to think of what he means by ‘getting their attention.’
"what do you have to say for yourself? for daring to lie to me? for pretending like you weren't on the brink of a much worse fate?"
"...i..."
"you're so lucky you're unwell, girl, because you don't even want to imagine the things i would do to you as punishment for putting yourself in such a ridiculous situation," he growls. "all you had to do was tell me and i would have taken care of it before it got worse."
you blink, almost dumbfounded. you still aren't all there, but you can tell that your fever has gone down significantly. you're no longer sweating and fewer chills wrack your body. "...huh?"
"did that fucking fever scramble your brain or what?" he fumes, eyeing you sharply. "you should have told me."
you part your lips slightly as you look at him. "honestly, sukuna, i didn't think you'd really... i don't know-"
"care?"
"no, not care. i just didn't think you'd handle it well. i didn't even handle it well myself."
"you believe me to be incapable of tending to sickness?"
"no, i just thought you'd like... not take it seriously."
sukuna's eyes darken, and you realize that you may have said the wrong thing. "in what reality would i fail to take any threat to your health seriously, whether you are frail or not?"
"see, that's what i mean. you always have to slip in something about me being frail."
"because you are. as a member of your species. look at where you lay currently," sukuna grimaces. "that is not an insult to you, it's an observation. it's an insult, however, to everyone else who isn't you."
you relax slightly. "then you were actually worried?"
sukuna scoffs. "why the hell do you think i'm sitting in a human hospital with your sick ass right now? i thought we were past you believing i do not concern myself over you."
you suddenly feel foolish, having forced yourself to suffer in your isolation and simultaneously made sukuna, of all people, worry over you.
"hm. feeling foolish, are you?" he says, reading your mind.
"shut up,," you whine, only to clutch your stomach suddenly with a groan. sukuna sighs as he gently eases your head back onto the pillow.
"i told you not to exert yourself. you give me a headache."
"kuna," you mumble.
"what?"
"can you... take me home?"
sukuna raises a brow. "home?"
"to your place," you clarify. "i don't wanna be here. i just want to be with you. want you to hold me."
"you're such a needy thing," he exhales, toying with a strand of your hair as he leans over and gazes gently at you. "you have medications you need to take."
"then bring them with."
"and if you get sick again? you've only been here ten hours."
"ten?!" you exclaim.
"you were very ill, (y/n)."
you groan. "ten is long enough. i hate hospitals. take me home. i feel better anyway, and if i get worse, i’ll just go to uraume."
sukuna sighs, standing slowly. "after i get these tubes out of you without further damaging you, i will take you home," he says, looking over the IVs that you're hooked up to.
you close your eyes tiredly and nod in acceptance. "okay," you murmur.
he grunts. "let me find some damn instructions.”
"kuna," your hand weakly reaches out to catch his wrist and he stops, turning to look down at you.
"what is it?"
you open your eyes to look up at him fondly, exhaustion welling in your gaze. "thank you."
the king of curses clenches his jaw. he smoothes ahead over your now warm forehead and leans over you. "don't do some shit like this again."
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autistic-shaiapouf · 9 months ago
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I need to go to work and be nothing short of absolutely mid
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faggotisaacfloofs · 5 days ago
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the person who helped today when I fell out of my wheelchair actually did a really great job, so I want to share in case other people wonder what to do. [Note: this is not universal, this is merely a suggestion from one person, every wheelchair user's needs are different! I am a person who uses a manual chair usually pushed by someone else who is also disabled.]
Scenario: you see someone in a wheelchair fall out of their chair, and you have the ability to help.
1. Approach and ask "are you okay?"*
2. Next question if they say no, are vague, or open to continuing conversation** is, "is there anything I can do to help?" Or "what can I do?"
If they say no to help, then that's the end, just leave and go do whatever you were doing!
If they ask for help or say they are mildly injured, ask "what would you like me to do?" And wait for an answer before doing anything! If they seem dazed or confused, they might have hit their head or had another medical event*, or they might just be like that due to regular disability. Be patient.
Do not touch the person unless they say to, or they are like, unconcious in the middle of the road, ya know?? Wheelchair users usually have conditions that mean being handled improperly can severely injure us, you could cause much more damage than the fall.
Some things they might need you to do:
Bring their wheelchair closer (mine went about 5 feet away after it dumped me)
engage the brakes of the wheelchair
hold wheelchair steady if it's an unsteady surface (mud, hill, ramp, wet, etc)
offer an arm for them to hold onto to get up (them grabbing you, not you grabbing them) or move another solid item closer for them to use (i.e. a chair) [only do this if you physically have the ability to!]
If the terrain is rough (i.e. a parking lot), they *might* ask you to push their chair to a more stable area once they are back in their chair
nothing
Something else
Do what they ask, NOT what you think would be helpful. If for some reason you have to do something (i.e. you can't stop oncoming traffic and need to get them out) ASAP, tell them what you plan to do
Keep in mind they might also be D/deaf, have a communication disability, be stunned after the fall, have a head injury, not trust other people, etc. Be patient and treat them as a person with autonomy and agency! They might need to just sit on the ground for a few minutes to recover before trying to get back in their chair. They might want everyone to leave them alone. They might ask you to call someone specific. Their chair might have broken and that can be extremely distressing. All of this is like if your legs spontaneously stop working when you're out and about!
A lot of wheelchair users (NOT ALL) have ways to get into their chair on their own once the chair is close enough and brakes engaged (but it's hard from the ground!). Here's what brakes look like on a lot of manual wheelchairs, in case they ask you to lock the brakes. They're levers on each side and pushing the lever pushes a bar against the wheel to hold it still.
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ID: A manual wheelchair with the brake levels circled in red and labeled "user brake levers"
*There is also the possibility of course that a person fell out of their chair due to a seizure or other medical event, so that is why it is important to ask if they are okay. If you saw them hit their head, tell them so. If they had a medical event, follow protocol for that, I'm not gonna get into it here (thought I could).
**sometimes a person will be clear after the first question i.e. "I'm all good thanks" clearly means they do not need you to ask another question, you can just leave them alone. Keep walking and don't stare. A lot of the time people will be a bit banged up but be totally fine and able to manage on their own.
TLDR: Ask the wheelchair user if they're okay, then what they need, and then do exactly that, including leaving them alone. Thanks!
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moechies · 1 month ago
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kinktober ⋆౨ৎ entry #1 ; cockwarming w toji fushiguro .ᐟ
dear diary ♡,
a couple days ago, mister toji taught me how to 'cockwarm.' it's where i simply sit on his . . . cock, and warm him up -- he says. i was so nervous ! he is so big , and i thought it was going to hurt tons ! it burned a little , but felt so much better after settling a little. mister toji was touching me so softly all over, calling me sweet things, and even played with my tail! i'm so embarrassed -- i must've been blushing so much! i think i may ask him to do it again today , i hope he doesn't get angry . . . i love mister toji so so sooooooo much ! ♡
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“c—can we do it when you’re done?”
“what?”
he can tell by the way you’re fidgeting and your ears are twitching— you need something. you pinch at the skin of your thigh, nervous with little courage as you ask.
“the— the thing you taught me. last week. the warming one?” you quip, tugging on toji’s shirt as he finishes up cleaning the dishes in the sink.
“oh.. y’want my fat dick in y’r lil bunny pussy is what ‘m hearing, is that right ?” he emphasizes on dick. he’s so blunt, and it makes you want to crawl and hide. he turns to you with a checkered apron hanging onto his neck, hand leaning against the sink. his smug smile spreads across his face, seeming to enjoy the way you grow flustered.
you whine at his choice of words, thighs rubbing against eachother with need. he acts as if he doesn’t see you writhing besides him, your arm purposefully pressed against your chest to suppress your sore tits.
he can practically smell the sweet slick spilling from your pussy bunny, smearing over the crotch of your panties.
toji briefly tugs at the string that holds the back of his apron together, swiftly pulling it over his head before tossing the piece of fabric onto the dining table. he steps forward, figure pressed against yours and you unconsciously stumble back. he makes you so weak.
“uh huh—“ you’re about to beg again, but he’s quick to scoop you up by your legs, hoisting you up into his arms. you yelp, but make no effort to get away — instead, nuzzling your face closer into the crevice his neck, dizzy at the detected mixed scent of his woody colonge and tart sweat.
he chuckles when you huff at the intial drop of your body onto the matress of your shared room, your plush body sinking into the pillowy sheets. your legs part naturally, taking up your invitation and having him slot himself right where you need him most. his broad shoulders press up against your plush thighs, spreading them further than before.
“bad bunny. y’know you can’t just have cock in ya twenty-four seven, right?” his left pointer finger tugs your flimsy shorts aside, and right thumb presses against the soaked patch of your cunt. you mewl under his touch, soft pads of your feet coming up to press him away. you gently shove at his bicep, but he barely moves. he knows you don’t want him to move anyway. “‘m n—not a bad bunny!”
“you are.”
“n—not, ‘m not mister!”
“hmm, i dunno about that.” he hums, pressing against your clothed clit. “are ya ever not in heat?"
"sir, please, n’more questions!" you whine in fustration, yelping when his pointer and thumb meanly pinches at your swollen bud. your eyes bulb with tears, meeting his that suddenly glare so meanly in comparison to his often soft, emerald ones.
"do you know who you're talking to?" toji growls, squishing the chub of your folds together, the slight simulation to your clit making you flinch.
"y—yes, sir. but please . . . mister, need you here, need your cock here!" you whine, ears sullied and pointed low. your hand moves his to take ahold of his finger, pressing it against your aching slit.
"there there . . ." he coos, thumb sliding over your clothed slit but paying it no attention. he presses a warm kiss on the soddened fabric, low lidded eyes and a smug grin that meet yours when he does. you're adorable like this — absolutely worked up and so terribly desperate; it's his favorite version of you.
"m—mister," you stammer,
"c'mere doll." he sits up against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap. you yelp when you feel the chub of his cock pressing against your folds, grinding down senselessly. toji laughs, getting a hold of your bicep to halt your hips movements. "don't be so greedy, bun."
"hnn—" you whine, tail thumping against his thigh. you slowly tug down his sweats, ears perking up when you realize the missing piece of fabric below — he's not wearing boxers!
he notices the way your eyes light up, cheeks begin to flush, and your expression grows brighter than before — you're one step closer to where you need to be. he almost hates the adorable expression sprawled across your face, chuckling when you look up to him with big-doed eyes searching for a green light.
you salivate when you tug the sweats just low enough, his cock slaps against his stomach. he scoffs, watching his cock leak against his soft skin. he’s getting old.
“inside now— mister—“ you pant, drool spilling at the corners of your mouth. you whine again, hands weakly tugging aside your shorts along with your panties, and aligning his cock head with your fat slit. “mister . . .” you whine, hinting for help.
“y’can do it.” toji grunts, placing a hand onto your plush hip. “ mmh, you got it.”
maybe you don’t ‘got it,’ because it burns so terribly when your folds swallow his cock!
“m—mister, mister !” you whine, quickly pulling yourself off his bulbous tip at the initial burn. he watches your slick stretch from your wet slit to his cock head, making him groan.
“calm down . . y’r rushin,’” he readjusts you, pulling your quivering hips close before you’re hovering over his cock again with small tears. “my bunny can’t do it herself, can’t she? whatta dumb lil’ thing.” toji chuckles, “there there.” he whispers with a sultry voice, making your cunt quiver around nothing.
you whine when you feel him tug down at your hips, whining when his hot tip presses against your slit once again — your slits kissing.
“big sir, s—so big,” you whine, a stutter in your voice from the stretch down low.
“slow down, hurts ‘cause you’re rushin.’ see?” he coos, lifting and lowering your hips over and over, fucking you on his tip. no — you don’t see because you’re awfully lightheaded, hands weakly stabilizing yourself above him but little do you know it’s solely his support keeping you up.
your cunt squelches with each and every single movement, a low ‘pop’ that elicits from your pussy whenever he moves you. “good girl. you can take it, am i ever wrong?”
“i—i can, can take it . . .” you slur, head fluffy and hands weak against his pelvis. “good girl. now sit.”
he grunts, pulling your hips down suddenly all the way, your cunt kissing on his dewy balls. “fuck, damn it.” toji groans — you cry at the stretch, cunt sore and raw when he grinds you down further than possible. “m—mister !”
he chuckles again, breath labored as he pushes the loose strands of his hair back. “worst part’s over, doll.” toji presses down at your arch to lay you against him. he can still feel your body twitching from hiccups of your previous fit — poor bunny. “i—it is . . “ you hiccup. he pets at your soft ear that trails down to your waist, giving your plush skin a soft pinch with a hum. “mister . . feels good . .” you purr, tail twitching incessantly again.
“course it does.”
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bi-writes · 2 months ago
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how would arguments go between simon and MOB? i imagine he would never dare raise his voice at her.
simon does not argue with his wife. if you are in danger or something is wrong, i could see him using a little bit of his lieutenant's voice just to get you to listen to him. to "get behind me" or "i'll take care of this, you go." otherwise, there's no resistance. none at all.
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"you know, simon, i..." you stop at the door, swallowing. you rub a hand over your forehead, shaking your head. "i...i-i really don't want to go."
he shuffles in his boots, staring at you carefully. you're all dressed up; you've got a new dress on (that he bought you, eagerly), and you've done your makeup. you clutch your purse with clammy hands, and he narrows his eyes when he sees the tremble in your bottom lip. he clears his throat, taking his jacket off. he removes his boots quietly, scratching the back of his neck as he comes close to you to take your bag and hang it up by the door again.
"okay," simon murmurs. "then we won't go."
he doesn't tell you about the cancellation fee.
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"'ello?"
"simon!"
he startles awake this time, holding the phone closer to his ear. the sheer anxiety in your voice cuts his gut sharp.
"wot? wot is it? wot happened?"
"i--i totally...i screwed up, simon--oh, god, i'm so sorry--"
"oi!" simon says firmly. "wot happened?"
"i...i'm at the shop, someone was going to back into me, so i swerved, and--"
"fuck," simon breathes. "are ya olright?"
"the car, it's--"
"not wot i asked," simon interrupts you. "are ya hurt?"
"w-what? i..." you sniffle. "no. i'm okay. just a little sore, i guess..."
simon lets out a deep breath, shaking his head.
"i'm coming," simon says lowly. "you stay there, baby. don't move."
"but, simon, the walk is--"
"i'll see ya in twenty."
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"oh, no, no, no, no!" you gasp. the orange tabby's head perks up at the sound of your voice at the door. she's got one of simon's masks in her mouth, and even from this distance and without the lights turned on, you can tell the fabric is shredded to bits. it's all over the floor, scattered across the couch, flecks of lint in her fur.
"oh, god, how could you?!" you panic a little. she must have gotten into some kind of drawer or basket or the laundry, because as you start towards her, she darts away, leading you across the house where you can see shreds of more masks and simon's socks strewn about the house. "oh, no!"
the front door closes heavy. when you come into the living room, simon is there, dropping his gear onto the floor. he looks tired--his shoulders sag, and you can see his eyes half-lidded and barely opening.
"simon, i'm...i'm s-sorry, she--"
you're holding his tattered clothes, but before you can say anything more, he grabs you by the shoulders and hugs you so tight. you nearly lose your breath from how he crushes you to his chest, and you let out a quiet whimper when his knees buckle and he falls to the floor with you, cradling your head to his chest and kissing your forehead through the mask over and over.
you're here. you're real. you're alive.
you drop the shredded fabric and hug him back, closing your eyes as you breathe him in. he tips your head back finally, ripping his mask off and kissing you hard.
he doesn't care when he sees the orange cat take a bite of his thrown mask and run away with it.
he can buy a million masks. but his girls--he pulls back from your kiss to stare down at you, intense. he hasn't slept in days, and he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks, camping on different rooftops just to track a shipment, and when that bullet whizzed past his head, all he could think about was you. the cat-bitten plants. the warm food. the cherry dress. some things cannot be replaced.
some brides cannot be ordered again. they don't make them like you.
you are one of a kind.
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sugume · 10 months ago
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r/ATIA for WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen  
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More: Fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, dubcon, piss kink, necrophilia, manhandling, choking, coercion, teacher x student, power dynamics, blackmail, threesome, Cuck!Gojo, drinking. unedited
Featuring: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru
PART 2
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r/fuckingmystudent posted by u/Nanami_Kento 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to recall the events that lead you to get your brains fucked by your professor. He caught you filming a video for your Onlyfans in his class. So, he took your phone and asked you to meet him in his office after class. There, he forced you to unlock your phone and show him what exactly you were recording. It was utterly humiliating and watching him, watch you, finger yourself with a pen underneath the desk. After, he’d told you that he’d tell the dean you were getting off on his voice lecturing you unless you did something for him.  Which led you ass up on his desk, trying your hardest not to make a peep as his fat cock slammed in and out of you. “Now, what I'm going to do is take out my cell,” He grunts, rolling his hips deep into you. “And record you slamming your ass onto my cock so if you decide to open that sweet mouth of yours, I'll have no choice but to send this video to mommy and daddy back at home, understand?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes from the threat or incoming orgasm, probably both. “Say ‘Yes, Professor!’ and maybe I'll send you the video so you can post it and feed yourself this week.” 
r/peeinginher posted by u/choso_Kamo 
Ankles beside your head, Choso had you folded in half as he pounded into your swollen cunt. He’d been going for what felt like hours and you were about to reach another peak when he abruptly stopped. “Choso?” you rasp, voice raw from screaming. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, staring up at him as he stares down at your glistening cunt. He just tilts his head and continues to stare. You’re about to ask again when he blinks from whatever trance he is in and starts thrusting in and out, slower this time. “Nothin’ baby, jus’ gotta piss.” “T-then stop and go, hm–” you gasp when he pushes your legs down further. “Stop and go to the bathroom Cho.” you try to pull his hands off your calves. Choso tightens his hold and grins down at you. “C-Choso?” “Why would I get up when I have a perfectly capable toilet right here.” Is all you hear before you suddenly feel a foreign warmth in your cunt followed by wetness trickling out your pussy.  
r/askinghertoplaydead posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna 
“You wan’ me to do what?” You ask, staring up at him from your position between his legs. “I asked you to stop suckin’ my cock and hang off the bed like a drugged-up bitch on her last life.” He stares at you with a look that tells you he isn’t truly asking. “B-but ‘Kuna—” He grabs your throat. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, hm?” You grab the hand around your neck. “Mhm.” “This ‘ll make me happy, little girl,” He plants a firm kiss on your lips. “Now do as I told you, actually I’ll do it, I know you aren’t the best at following orders.” He says before pushing you back like a ragdoll. “Yes, now lay there, don’t move, don’t speak.” Sukuna reiterates, finally satisfied with your position, naked on your stomach with your head hanging off the bed. He wastes no time shoving his big cock into your cunt. You groan from the sudden intrusion “Kuna!” “Shut up, dead bitches don’t fuckin’ make sounds.”  
r/forcinga3some posted by u/Gojo_Satoru 
“Sit on his cock love,” Gojo demands, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you onto Suguru’s lap. “S-Satoru!” “’ Toru!” You and Geto screech at the same time. “C’mon guys, it’s fine I don’t mind, Loosen up!” Gojo looks at you on his best friend's lap and his cock twitching underneath his pants. He palms it. Don’t worry, we’ll have our turn. “I know you two want to fuck, c'mon! Do I really have to pull it out and shove it up your tight cunt?” Goji grits out, increasingly frustrated when the two of you stare at him like a pair of deer in headlights. “Baby, I-it was just a truth or dare question!” Your head aches and you put both of your hands on Suguru’s broad shoulders to stable yourself, trying and failing to ignore his hard under your panty-covered pussy. “Was it? So, you aren’t wet right now? And you Suguru? You aren't rock fucking hard at the thought of fucking the same pussy I cum in every night?” Gojo raises his eyebrow holding eye contact with you until you look away, face flushed. Suguru sighs, throwing his head back with murmured ‘fuck this.’ before grabbing your waist. “Yes! That’s what I thought. Ha!” Gojo laughs, watching as Suguru starts grinding you down on his bulge.  
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