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#product if a sick society
reddiamondyeet · 6 months
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Everyone on this site likes autistic people until they have high support needs.
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localcryptideli · 2 years
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Just saw a post where one of the tags was "gluten free people are worse than vegans" and I am here blinking like... what's next, "people with peanut allergy are annoying"? Like sorry for not sucking it up and then going through physical and psychological discomfort by eating wheat because I get an autoimmune response, but I'd rather have people think I am annoying (which is big for me) than go through that again.
#and I am one of the lucky ones#my symptoms are all skin related with some mild brain stuff on the side#and I can eat spelt#and a tiny quantity of contamination will not give me a full episode#I read of people who got sick throwing up and with immense pain for a weel by being contaminated ONCE#gluten intolerance depending on how severe it is can wreck your intestines incredibly bad#like if you are gluten intolerant and keep having gluten apparently you are way more likely to get intestine cancer#like do you seriously think I would not choose to have pizza given the chance#I miss eating at a bakery holy shit but it's not worth it#I still have scarring from eating wheat because I didn't realize I developed an allergy#which by the way a lot of people develop in their late twenties/early thirties#also I WISH we were as vocal as vegans cause vegan products on the market started getting more numerous ever since they got more vocal#while I find wheat in rice and fish that wouldn't need any wheat#and gluten free products are triple the price for one third of the quantity and horrible quality - as in they are often stale#imagine paying eight euros for eight slices of toast and then the toast sucks#now imagine if you are minimum wage and have the stroke of luck of heing full celiac so you don't have an alternative option#you get the message that most food is not for you and society would rather see you starve than use corn starch as a thickener instead#i need to find a tag for personal updates
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mobiused · 2 years
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i'm not here to defend shinee i've never supported onew because of his SA case and the r*pe joke key made is disgusting and unforgivable, but when it comes to racism and colorism and fatphobia, i genuinely believe that every single kpop idol holds these sentiments as well. these issues are so deeply rooted in the south korean society, the ultimate beauty standard is being skinny and having a white skin. idols are conditioned since they were young trainees to believe that they must achieve those standards, and when they don't they get scrutinized and judged harshly by the public so they end up internalizing these ideas especially when they debut at a very young age. i'm not defending this behavior at all, it should be called out and criticized. i just believe that we should have a long and productive conversation about it and demand to make changes instead of bringing it up once in a while.
By saying every single idol holds this position I think it frames idols as unfixable whilst also absolving them of any responsibility with the suggestion that theyre all groomed into being fatphobic/racist... and at the same time you're also saying that idols don't have free thinking capability to outgrow these mentalities. Are you seriously saying to me hand on heart that all Koreans Korean idols think the same? We live in a global world and they have global fans who are telling them these things, and access to internet and every resource against fatphobia and racism at their disposal. Idols are fully capable of overcoming these views that they may have been conditioned to have - I know this because I know of idols who have literally spoken in opposition to fatphobic and colorist notions... If they can do it, why can't everybody else?
It's not good enough to suggest Korean idols are so helpless and brainwashed that they can't think independently and therefore the blame should be on us outsiders for not trying hard enough to reform an entire country. (Do you realise how ridiculous this sounds?)
So what exactly are you trying to say with this? That I should ignore Shinee's behaviours because everybody over there is like that? Or that it's our duty as nonkoreans to fix their messed up society? I really don't like either of these suggestions.
What changes to Korean society can I demand as tumblr user mobiused?
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husbo-venus · 1 year
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ive been waiting for you all to turn on lil nas x for years my time has finally come
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the-trans-dragon · 1 year
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I found a documentary series with an episode titled “The Next Pandemic” from November 7, 2019.
Pre-covid.
Really bonkers to watch. Various professions talk about their biggest concerns and priorities. Bill Gates gives his opinions a couple times.
I’m going to bed 💜
#the show is called Explained. on Netflix#I don’t really wanna advertise for Netflix so… idk.#that kinda broke my brain. I’m halfway howling in anguish and ranting in frustration—and halfway utterly speechless#what is there to say? ‘wow I wish anti-vaxxers let us utilize our technology.’#did it occur to anyone to put funding into public education? did anyone worry about the way capitalism doesn’t allow us to trust products?#did anyone think all their hard work would be useless because people didn’t believe in the plague?#I hate the anti-vax movement with so much passion; but I understand the logic of it and how irrefutable that logic can be#some of it is just nonsense conspiracy theory but some of it is legitimate fear. we are suffocated with advertisements. ‘you need this!’#‘buy this blender or you’ll never be healthy!’ ‘buy this purse or you’ll never have friends!’ ‘use our shampoo or you’ll kill the planet!’#‘buy our pain meds because they’re safer!’ ‘use these bandaids or you’ll get infections!’ ‘wear these shoes to prevent permensnt foot damage#‘get this vaccine or you might get sick!’ like…#something something automimicry. something something boy who cried wolf.#99% of the time it IS a scam when someone tells you that you need something. and how do you establish trust in a society like that?#I know the data and I know how vaccines work and I know the risks because I’ve studied it extensively#but I haven’t studied cars at all. and if a mechanic said ‘buy this or your car will explode’ I don’t think I’d take his word for it.#sigh… okay bed time for real now.#sorenhoots
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royalberryriku · 1 day
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It's so crazy unravelling internalised ableism and realising you've been telling yourself it's okay to feel almost constant pain and that it's just "being prone to getting sick" and training yourself to use sick to mean "non secrete and very temporary ailment". It's crazy learning how normalised pain actually is and that even said "temporary sicknesses" are downplayed and brushed off no matter how bad the symptoms are because any sign of not being 100% in tip top health means a cut in production and your immediately shamed for it. Crazy how you slowly learn to shake yourself for the things you're physically unable to do without help and shamed for talking about it or asking for any help because "you should be able to do this and you're just making excuses" is a response that's been so normalised that it's become the automatic response to any absences, slowing down with work and production or sign of illness to just delegitimize it until any disability or illness is seen as am excuse and something to blame people for. It's crazy how we shame people until they hate their body because we convince them that it must be their fault that they're not meeting impossible deadlines and bring too human to produce like a damn machine.
The way society treats our bodies is crazy.
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singlethread · 4 months
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I have lectures in less than 12 hours. THIS IS DUMB
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midsentenceyawned · 6 months
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stelashe · 11 months
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Life's value and worth as intended by the majority of people is just a social construct
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dabisqueen · 5 months
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Pornstar!Dabi (Touya Todoroki) x female reader
⇢ word count: roughly 7K
⇢ plot: as a broke student, you sign up for an assistant job at a movie set. It turns out the job is more than you bargained for.
⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, size kink, pierced big-cock Touya, fingering, cunnilingus (f receiving), multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, overstimulation, exhibitionism (sex in front of other people (movie set)), creampie, sweet aftercare
⇢ personal note: thank you @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for bring my beta again! As for what you're all about to read – I have no regrets. Virgin kink goes brrr
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"College has always been so crucial, such an essential part of what measures a person’s worth and determines their future."
They say college life is quite challenging. That it can help you come to realize your potential, that you learn more about yourself while in it. That the challenges you experience in university help you grow into a mature person in society.
You have several challenges to face. There's the problem that you focus entirely too much on your studies. In some ways, it’s to secure your future and to compensate for your lack of private life. In other ways, it makes you, because of inexperience, too naive for your own good. Or, as your friends have called it: too innocent. You've never had anyone touch you, never been with anyone in that way. Thus, you never get the hint when someone hits on you or finds you attractive. You have excellent grades – but unlike many of your peers, you’re still a virgin. 
Another challenge you are facing is that you aren't wealthy. One semester into your studies, you are closer to the end than you expected. Leaving your landlord's buro, you take a few steps before coming to a halt and close your eyes as if to gain some semblance of composure. You're broke and desperately need money to cover your rent and living expenses. The bank isn't going to give you another loan, and you find yourself on the verge of having to leave college without a family to support your education.
They say you have to fail first to be successful in the future. But you are beyond failing – you are simply screwed. 
You are very aware of your financial predicament. And you loathe having to live day to day on just pennies. To put it short—you are sick of being a broke-ass, loser virgin.
You sigh. 
Giving up is not a choice. So you do the next best thing: grab life by the horns and start looking for a job. Searching under your bed, clothing pockets, and between couch cushions, you scrounge up enough money to get a local newspaper. In its classified ads, only a few offers deem themselves feasible with your busy school schedule: a late-night shift at a local diner, pizza delivery, or a job doing telemarketing. None of those sound too appealing, but there might not be a choice. Then, your gaze stops at an offer that sounds too good. A movie company is looking for a production assistant on a film set; you don't need prior experience, work hours are during the weekends, and pay is double what the other jobs offer.
You don’t think before hastily grabbing your phone, punching in the number, and waiting while the dial tone rings.
After a distinct click over the other line, a man hisses, "Shimura?"
"Uhm, hi. I- I am calling about the assistant job offer. I was wondering—"
"You're hired. Tomorrow at 5 pm," the man at the other end interrupts in an annoyed tone.
He rattles off the address as you fumble around for a pen, hastily writing it down when you find it.
Before you can reply, he finishes with Don't be late and hangs up unceremoniously.
You exhale, realizing you’ve been holding your breath since he started speaking.
What the hell just happened? 
***
The path to the location is littered with brown leaves, and you struggle to keep from slipping as you walk toward the building. The address given to you is an old warehouse on the edge of town. Its monotonous, featureless walls covered in graffiti make it feel abandoned. There are no visible signs that anything is happening inside at all.
As you walk across the parking lot, you start to see small indications of life: fancy cars—far too fancy for this area- and sensual music permeating through the corrugated steel walls. 
You weren’t sure how to dress for a job you knew nothing about, so you opted for blue jeans, a white blouse, and pointy shoes with heels. Your hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and simple smokey eyes complete the look. 
You aim for a large steel door that the cars are all parked close to. As you lift your head, you take in the old brick building you are standing in front of, lined with large casement metal windows. 
There is a single doorbell, no name on it, and you hesitate before inhaling and pressing it with the tip of your finger.
You hear a clicking sound, and then the heavy door swings inwards. 
Alright, here goes nothing.
***
The set is surprisingly professional—like a luxurious bedroom sliced in half. A row of chairs faces the set on a concrete floor behind multiple cameras and some sound equipment, with the crew standing around talking.
The producer, Tenko, as he introduces himself to you–with tufts of pale hair and seemingly chronic dry lips in dire need of some chapstick – explains that your job will consist of helping around the set, distributing beverages, and handing out the script. Simple work you could do. After introducing you to the crew, he hands you a stack of papers, instructing you to pass them out.
Then you see her—the actress. She is gorgeous, dressed in an ivory-colored silk robe. Her hair is the color of the sun. Her skin is flawless and tanned, and her body is perfect- although almost definitely sculpted by a professional surgeon.
"Where the fuck is he?" You hear Tenko grumble, pulling a phone from his pocket, thumb tapping against the screen.
A flurry of activity breaks your concentration. A door flies open, and a man strides through—the leading actor, you gather, from how everyone else suddenly perks up.
"Fucking finally," the pale-haired director groans, tucking his cell back into the pocket of his jacket.
The man's hair is coal-colored, falling in messy strands into his face. His eyes remind you of the bright ocean, almost glowing in the dim light of the set. His sharp lips pull into a wide grin, his canines peeking out. He is casually dressed, wearing a pair of dark, ripped jeans and a white t-shirt, allowing you to notice just how well-toned his arms are. He is handsome, with delicate yet masculine features and sharp angles set in his face. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and his thin lips form a troublesome grin when his eyes meet yours. 
Shit. 
He holds your gaze before dragging his sinfully blue eyes over your figure and looking away again. Your heart skips a beat because even in the low light, you can see that the actor is incredibly hot. Totally your type. You can't help but stare at him, watching how he moves, the way his muscles ripple under the thin fabric of his shirt, the way his thighs bulge in his tight pants. 
Speaking of bulge. 
It's the biggest one you've ever seen, and the sight of it sends a pang straight to your core. Your cheeks heat up automatically. 
Stop it!
You curse inwardly a few times for thinking lewd thoughts on a professional movie set.
But—you can't help it. He just looks too handsome. It stirs something inside of you you've never felt before. You sigh, knowing that this man has already made his way into your dreams, but in the end, they’ll stay just that— dreams. 
Someone like him would never want to lay a hand on you.
As he approaches the stage, the man stops dead in his tracks, staring at the actress with a bored expression. 
“Not her again.” You hear him groan.
The actress snaps her head around, a stunned expression on her face. “Pardon me?”
"The script calls for an innocent girl." The actor deadpans. "No one's gonna believe that with you in the female role."
The actress jumps to her feet. “How dare you talk about me like that!”
Tenko hisses, “Didn't you read the script? You would have known you film with her today, Touya—"
“I told you not to use my real name on set,” he says with a blase, somewhat impatient gaze.
“And I told you not to let out your frustration on the set, Dabi.” The director retorts.
“Frustration caused by your actions.” Dabi deadpans.
You hold your breath as your eyes dart from the director to Dabi and back to the actress. The rest of the crew acts like this is an everyday commotion on the set. 
“This is not a request— I'm not doing the scene with her, " Dabi says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
The actress jumps from her chair, visibly outraged, as her cheeks flare red with anger. “You're such a dick!”
“Yeah, you're right. But I’m the best dick in the industry.” He turns around, a sardonic finality in his tone.
You stare at the scene before you, the forgotten papers clutched tightly to your chest. The blonde woman stares at the dark-haired man, infuriated. 
“So, it's either me—or her.” Dabi addresses Tenko, who isn't even trying to de-escalate the situation. “That's my final say.”
“I can't believe you're doing this to me!" The woman wails exaggeratedly.
"Sweetheart, we need someone who conveys innocence. Not some chick as fake-looking as you," Dabi purrs with false care. “Go carry your plastic off the stage already.”
Tenko scratches his neck in annoyance. He watches as the actress slings an array of profanities at Dabi before storming off with quick strides toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.
The dark-haired man stands at ease, reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a deep drag. “Thank god she's gone. What were you thinking, Tenko?”
“Dabi, she's the most requested—” 
“I don't give a fuck.” he runs a free hand through his dark bangs. “She sucks.”
You listen to them bicker, getting more confused by the second. 
“So—what do you expect me to do now?” Tenko's scratching increases as he starts pacing up and down the set. “Production costs will double if we cut and pick things up on a different day. Not to mention the cost of finding a new replacement.”
He jumps off his chair, pacing around the set. Then he grumbles, “We’ll take a ten-minute break. I need to come up with a solution or else—”
“We need someone Pretty, no makeup, normal clothes.” Dabi suggests, "That won't be too expensive. Someone who looks undefiled, innocent.” Dabi's gaze wanders across the room. “Like a student or something.”
Then he sees you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. His stunning sapphire eyes look you up and down. You swallow hard, your shaking hands almost crumpling the papers in their tight grip.
"Like her." Teal eyes narrow as they focus on you. 
You blink back at him dumbly, the room around you completely silent.
"Me?" You answer, his words catching you off guard.
"Yep. You." Dabi's smirk returns, a playfulness in his eyes. 
The director stares at you with the same baffled expression written on your face. "Her?"
"Yep. Her." His grin widens.
"B-But, I can't!" You counter. " I'm a simple student, not an actress—"
"That's exactly what we need." The twinkle in his eyes is still there, "And you have a pussy, don't you?"
"Yes, I—” You catch yourself, your cheeks flaring hot. “W- What does that even have to do with this movie?"
Suddenly, the room goes alive with murmurs and whispers.
Dabi quirks a brow. "You're telling me you don't know?"
"Don't know what?" You helplessly look around.
The dark-haired man turns to his director, "You didn't tell her?!"
Tenko mumbles something about how you would have found out eventually. 
Dabi steps toward you and crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Doll, this is an adult film set."
"A what?" You dumbly blink at him.
"An adult film set. You know, where people fuck." He leans forward, deep azures sparkling salaciously. "You know how fucking works, don't you?"
"Yes, I mean—in theory?" A heat washes over your face and flushes down your entire body.
"Yes or no. What is it?" Dabi asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.
The heat in your face has reached the tip of your ears as you stammer. "It's none of your business."
He steps even closer. "C’mon, sweetheart, tell us."
He smirks, eyes narrowing as he leans closer. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes. You can smell him with how close he is leaning in. His deep, masculine scent surrounds you, sending a jolt of heat straight through your core. Even though your mind wants to scream at him, to tell him off, you hear a timid voice whisper, "I’ve used my fingers? Maybe some toys?"
It is your voice.
"You're telling me you've never done it with another person?" This time, it is Dabi’s turn to sound baffled as he leans back, taking you in. "That you're a virgin."
"I-I…" You stammer, swallowing dryly.
Looking over his shoulders, he calls over to his director, "It'll break records if we film this. You're aware of that, right?"
"I am." Tenko snaps, scratching at his neck irritably, "You don't need to tell me."
"Ok, then it's a deal.” He nods towards you. “I want her—or I'm leaving."
"You little piece of—" Tenko growls. "That's extortion."
"You won't regret it," Dabi says, shrugging nonchalantly.
"Shouldn’t I have a say on this too?" You ask, but both men ignore your words.
"Ok, it's a deal," Tenko murmurs. "How much do we pay her?"
Dabi turns his gaze back to you. "You need money, right? Or else you wouldn't be here.”
"That’s none of your business."
"C'mon, sweetheart, This is your chance."
“Yes, I mean… " a sound of annoyance bubbles up your throat. "I can't afford my rent anymore, and my landlord will kick me out if I don't pay up soon."
“I sense an opportunity here," Dabi smirks. "Tenko, how much will you pay her if she agrees to do this with me?"
"How much do you want?" Tenko asks you.
“I-I don't know. I've never thought about it." You shyly add.
"Pay her rent plus an allowance," Dabi suggests. "Tenko, you know she's worth it."
"That’s too m—" You swallow hard.
Tenko mumbles disgruntledly: "OK, I'll do it.” 
“You what?" His words leave you stunned.
Dabi interrupts quickly. "What he's saying, sweetheart, is that he'll pay for your rent - if you let me fuck you.”
His lewd words and the deep blue pools of his stunning eyes send a flutter through your stomach. 
“In front of all these people?!" 
“That's what porn is all about, doll.” Dabi chuckles, studying your reaction.
You swallow hard.
"So? What's it gonna be?" He cocks his head, waiting. 
You have always prioritized safety, so common sense tells you to stick to your usual way of life. However, look where common sense has led you: You're almost broke and may need to drop out of college. 
This could be a bad decision. But, it's time to throw safety to the sea.
"OK, I'll do it," you proclaim, and a round of applause and cheers erupt on the set while Dabi nods appreciatively.
“Congratulations, you're hired. Now, get ready before I change my mind.” Tenko waves a hand. “We still have a movie to film here.”
Your heart starts to race, a crushing weight bearing down on your chest. But you know that you have no choice. It's either a free porn loan—or being a forced college dropout. Taking a deep breath, you ball your hands into fists, trying to ignore the signs of panic your body is giving you.
"Okay, everyone, resume positions. And hand her the script.” Tenko moves to his chair, sitting down in it. “Let's do the first take." 
"Hold on," Dabi says. "Why not do it a bit differently this time? No script, no acting— just raw footage. The whole thing.”
“You mean a one-shot film?” Tenko looks surprised. “I suppose that would work. Especially with a new actress.”
“Are you okay with that, doll?” Dabi smiles at you, and there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before.
“Do I have a choice?” you sigh.
“Not really.” He winks.
"Are you two lovebirds done flirting over there? " Tenko asks, " Because we're ready to film.”
“We weren't flir—” you protest, but Dabi bridges the distance between you.
"So, sweetheart?" He leans in, his face hovering close, sharing a breath with you. "How are you feeling about being fucked on camera?"
“Nervous.” you bite your lips, your face starting to burn.
"Doll, don't be; just focus on me," he soothes, stroking your cheek. “Forget about everyone else; I'll take care of you.”
He takes your hand and pulls you towards the bedroom set.
“Quiet!” Tenko raises a hand, and complete silence falls over the set as the crew prepares to film you both. 
Tenko calls out a set of commands, which different crew members around the room answer.
“Sound?”
“Set.”
“Camera?”
“Set.”
“Roll sound.”
“Sound rolling.”
“Roll camera.” 
“Camera Speed.” 
“Marker.”
A man with a clapper board enters the scene and calls, "Scene one. Take—uhm— whatever." 
Dabi nods, and that is the cue. The lights dim, and the cameras vanish into the darkness; only the red lights betray their existence. 
You glance around, your stomach in knots, as you realize that this is no game, that this is it. The only thing visibly lit was the bed standing a few feet away. The crew's faces are barely visible as everyone watches you, the man behind the camera tilting it, filming you from bottom to top.
“Hey baby, you alright?” You hear Dabi's voice.
“N-No, not really.” You stammer, your hands trembling, your breathing picking up, as your eyes frantically dart around the dark set. “I don't know if I can do this.”
“Sweetheart, look at me.” You feel a finger hook under your chin when Dabi tilts your head to meet his gaze. It's intense, the turquoise of his irises gleaming almost unnaturally. 
You feel your heart sink into your stomach as his thumb caresses your skin. When he closes the already minimal distance between you, your eyes flutter close in reflex. His lips are sensually warm and addicting against your cheek, and your heart starts thrashing wildly inside your chest in response. Something changes between you, an intimacy blooming as the voices of the people mute.
It's all you need to distract your mind, to make your body heat up. Not with anxiety—
—but in anticipation. 
“Are you ready to give me your virginity?” His low voice rumbles close to your ear.
You nod, like in a haze, every caress of his lips causes your skin to tingle, to burn with passion. He shifts, and you feel him faintly brush your lips, and a zap of electricity courses through your veins. Then, your lips are united in his first tentative kiss. They are so soft, and the way he kisses you is so delicate, almost tender— deliberately slow.
You relax, giving in to how wonderful this feels. His tongue slowly traces the shape of your lips, and you feel your brain short-circuiting. Angling your head to the side, you part your lips, begging him to enter. Dabi reacts instantly, his tongue slipping your mouth, delving deeper, tasting you, consuming you.
You groan—how could a man taste so good?
It makes your knees buckle, and you start panting into his mouth, your instincts taking over, your body reacting to his touch. A desire, a passion, awakens like a wild animal roaring, and you feel a wave of arousal pool in your panties. You can't help it, and you slide your hand underneath his shirt, your other hand circling his neck. You can feel him smirking into the kiss, but the sound carries off into a groan when you rake your nails down the small of his back. 
As he breaks away, a warmth lingers between you and him while he admires your wet, pink, swollen lips, "A little eager for your first time, huh?"
The kiss leaves you dizzy, and you can't seem to form an answer, too stricken by his closeness and intoxicating scent.
The moment passes, and then his lips smash against yours so fast you don't even have time to react. He presses his hips against yours, his clothed hardness grazing against your heat, letting you feel just how hard you’ve made him.
Holy shit.
He's not gentle anymore; he's rough and demanding now. He is taking you, enjoying the shaky gasps that leave your lips. Dabi’s hands trail down your side to find your ass cheeks. He lifts you by the thighs onto his waist skillfully, never breaking the kiss. Carrying you easily toward the bed he releases his hold and you topple onto it, panting heavily.
The lights around you heat the air, and you notice one camera panning across the set while the other tracks toward you on a dolly. Just as your heart starts picking up an anxious speed again, you see a movement to the side. Dabi yanks his shirt above his head, the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement.
The second the fabric touches the floor, he's on you with his lips pressed to yours and his tongue in your mouth. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment of passion and all you can see is him. Your stomach somersaults and the world around you ceases to exist; it is just you and him— the people around you and the cameras wholly forgotten. The world, right now, only revolves around the two of you.
“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes into your mouth, hazy eyes glowing with arousal. "How do you taste so fucking good?”
You feel his hand sneak underneath your shirt to slowly pull it off over your head. Next, he skillfully removes the rest of your clothes off until you are lying below him, sex and breasts cupped by delicate cotton underwear. 
“Look at that,” he muses. “So innocent.”
Sliding his hand behind your back, he unhooks the bra with an expert pinch of his fingers. Your breasts spill out as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it aside. Then his gaze lingers on your soft, round tits.
“Damn,” he cups them and squeezes them gently, “Where have you been hiding, girl? You're perfect.”
He slides his fingers over your nipples and a low moan tears from your throat. Dabi lets out a low rumble as his hands continue to work your breasts, rubbing and plucking at your stiffening nipples. There’s a deep throb low in your body, pulsing between your thighs, and you're startled at the way you’re reacting. You are so turned on—his touch only adds to your body’s cravings, and as his large palms glide over your breasts; it pulls the breath from your lungs as it simultaneously fuels your desire. His thumbs drag over your nipples again, rolling it between his fingers before leaning down to lick at your pebbled nub. He makes you feel breathless with excitement the more he focuses on toying with your breasts, rolling the tips back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. 
It makes you crazy with need until you're aching, shivering throughout your entire body. You're gasping for breath the entire time Dabi has his lips wrapped around your erect nub, sucking it to send a tingling sensation straight through to your core. Then he's biting just hard enough to make you squeal before soothing the puckered nub with a flick of his tongue.
“You’ve got the most amazing tits,’ Dabi murmurs against your skin. “So soft and full. So natural.”
While he switches from pliant nipple to pliant nipple, you feel a stray hand hook its fingers under the seams of your panties. He releases your nipple with a pop and peppers kisses down to your tummy while he adeptly pulls the little piece of fabric down and off your legs. You're now utterly naked below him while Dabi continues revering your body with wet kisses and nibbles, moving downward until you feel his warm breath on your pubic mound. He spreads your trembling legs, his eyes glazing over your pussy, pupils expanding and then retracting into pin slits.
"Look at that pretty pussy." His breath is hot against your soaked folds. "And so fucking wet—you're dripping."
A shameful sound spills from your lips at his words, and you writhe in his hold. But his hands keep you in place. 
"You're seriously telling me,” he slides his fingers up and down your glistening folds, “No one's been here before?"
You squirm below him as a camera zooms in on where Dabi’s eyes are affixed– between your thighs.
“Cause you have the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” He snickers. “And I've seen a lot.” 
His warm, calloused fingers slide up and down your slippery folds, his hot breath fanning over your sex. Then he spreads apart your sweet lips; it makes you shudder in anticipation, and Dabi chuckles.
“I can see you twitching for me.” A finger sinks in, making you arch your back the deeper it goes. 
The camera behind him zooms in on your blushing face, and you cover it with trembling hands. 
"Nu-uh, no hiding. Look at me." He slaps your clit lightly—making you jolt. "Let us see your pretty face."
You whimper softly, because you've touched yourself before—
—but this just feels so much more intense.
“Dabi—” you choke out, flinching in pleasure when he slides a hand underneath your ass, 
raising your hips to have more access to you. 
“Relax, baby, I'll take care of you.” A growl tears from his throat, and then he drags his tongue over your gleaming folds, tasting you. 
You cry out, your body shuddering. Over and over, Dabi licks you with deep, claiming strokes, using his tongue to explore every bit of you. 
“Damn, you taste better than anything I've ever tasted.” He pushes his wet muscle into your core, frantic to have more of you. 
“Oh my God. Dabi!” Your toes curl, and your thighs tighten around him. You're both – startled and aroused at his eagerness. Any worries you have are melting away as he drags his tongue over you again and again, making you squirm with need.
A moan escapes your lips– loud, uncontrolled– when his tongue flicks over your folds. When he grazes your little button, you jolt as if you've been stung. 
He hums appreciatively and buries his face into your warmth, seeking out that sweet nub. Your body jerks as he moves his tongue over it, repeating the action when he does it again. You give a little wail, and your hands curl into the fabric the longer he teases. He eagerly works that spot, and you cry out with little choked gasps.
As his tongue circles your clitoris, your sensations spiral out of control. You can feel the tension increasing in your body with a growing urgency to be released. 
“Dabi,” you pant with every flick of his tongue. But he doesn't respond, does not hear– or pretends not to. He buries his face in your folds, hands holding you down by your hips.
With every quiver that moves through your body, with every shiver of response, every tensing of your muscles, you draw closer to the edge.
You writhe against Dabi, with his face between your thighs, lapping at your juices. All the while, he continues to work your little clit with his tongue in slow, steady strokes. 
Suddenly, the feeling that you’re about to cum overwhelms you. Your pussy clenches, dripping with your juices, and your clit is ready to burst.  
Your hips jerk against him, and then a release explodes in your mind, your thoughts crashing all around you. You come with a slight scream that morphs into a moan, but Dabi does not stop his ministrations—
—no.
He continues to lick and suck as you come and come and come.
It's too much; you feel like exploding. You’re a moaning mess, fingers slipping between Dabi’s strands, pushing and pulling at his roots unsure if you can take it if he keeps going like that. 
Your entire body is on fire. The orgasm continues to surge through you– more intense than anything you’ve experienced by yourself– with Dabi gently sucking and licking at your clit. You are delirious, feel like you are floating with no way to find your path back to earth. 
“Dabi, please—” you choke out.
Dabi’s mouth detaches from your overstimulated nub and straightens up, licking your cum’s sweetness off his lips. Crawling on top of you, he gazes into your eyes. “Doll, tell me—what do you want me to do?”
You see his jeans straining from the bulk of his erection and swallow, your body responding with a flood of hormones. 
“Please fuck me,” you whisper, thinking in ways you never have before.
You want to beg him to be gentle, but you can’t seem to form the words when you see him unbuckle his belt before unzipping his jeans, his eyes carefully watching your expression as he does. His cock springs to life, and you swallow thickly. It's enormous—and pierced. 
You feel a momentary pang of doubt, questioning if that monster will even fit inside you. The previous excitement and adrenaline pumping through your veins gradually turn to panic. Your breathing picks up as you stare at his cock, wide-eyed. 
“You look worried,” Dabi says, stroking it with one hand. His raised eyebrows and amused grin tell you he's used to this type of reaction. 
“Are you sure…” you nod towards his cock.
“Trust me,” he says. “I’ll make sure you feel good. It’ll be the greatest thing you'll ever experience.”
Your entire body yearns for his touch, and there’s no way you're saying no now. He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves to hold himself in hand to align his cock with your entrance.  
"Do you want me to fuck you?’ Dabi asks as he drags the head of the tip up and down your slit. 
“‘S not gonna fit,” you whine with a worried expression.
“Don't be scared,” Dabi says, "I know what I'm doing. So, you'll be a good girl and take it all, right?”
“I'm not sure,” you whisper.
“I know you can...” His eyes stare at you with a desire so intense that you almost feel intimidated. 
He’s spreading you wide open, hands on your knees, before he moves one to hold himself and align his cock to your entrance. The pressure between your legs increases as Dabi nudges the pierced tip of his cock against you.
“Get ready,” he whispers.
A mix of a gasp and a cry leaves your lips as Dabi strains against you, feeling like he’s trying to shove a massive pole inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut as tears gather in your lashes, and Dabi holds back, kissing you, waiting for you to relax.
“Easy,” he says softly, “I’ve got you.” 
The softness of his tone relaxes you and the tension in your shoulders lessens. Then, somehow, something gives way, and he enters you. You gasp, your body opening up to accommodate the massive dick that is now sliding inside of you. 
"Oh my god—” You throw your head back, hands clawing at his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him away.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, eyebrows furrowing before he hits resistance and then pushes forward.
There’s a sharp pain slicing through your core, and you don't know if it's from the stretch or a tear. Probably both. It hurts, and you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing tears down your cheek. Dabi continues to push his hips forward, only stopping once he’s entirely inside, heavy balls pressed against the crease of your ass. The cameras zoom in on the bulge in your womb, where his dick sits buried deep inside of you. But you don't notice them, your brain too consumed by him filling you up, his whole weight resting against you. 
“You ok?” Breathing heavily, he drags his eyes back and forth over your face. 
“Gimme a sec.” Your lips press into a thin line as the pain from the stretch slowly turns into a dull throb. After a moment, you nod...
"I'm gonna start moving now," Dabi says— and then does precisely that. 
Just as you start to feel your body relaxing, he withdraws, only to plunge himself in again. The sudden shock of the movement is incredible. You feel every ridge, every single thick vein. It feels fantastic, and as he slowly slides back in, you can appreciate every inch of his cock. He starts an even rhythm, rocking inside you gently. 
“Shit, just squeezed me so fucking tight,” he moans in response. "I’m warning you, don't make me lose my composure. You don’t want to see me act up.”
Your mind feels detached from your body; you don't hear him, don't even notice the camera zooming in, focusing on how your face scrunches and your lips quiver because of how good he makes you feel. 
He grabs you by the waist and brings you closer to him. Raising both legs in the air, he pushes them forward until your body is folded in half.
“Oh—shit—” You choke out, the walls of your sex stretching to accommodate him. 
“I’m gonna make you cum,” Dabi is panting hard as he starts driving his cock rapidly in and out of you. “You won't be able to walk for days.”
“I-I can’t—” your jaw slackens as you tighten around his dick again, the ability to form comprehensive answers having left you the moment he breached your walls.
He rams himself deeper while his fingers slip between your strands, guiding your face upward, your mouths colliding in a frantic kiss. 
It starts as a slow burn that gradually builds into a white, blistering heat. A feeling begins coursing through you, making you lose control of your body. You tense and arch your back, your head digging back into the pillow, voice caught in your throat. And just when you think you can't take it anymore, all that tension releases, and you cry out loud, a turbulent wave of pleasure hitting you like a storm. All your nerve endings are seemingly set ablaze while Dabi fucks you through your orgasm. 
His eyes are wide with wonder, hearing and feeling you come undone around him. The way your eyes are shut tightly in pleasure, your entire body trembling and shaking in ecstasy, is the best thing he's ever seen. It makes his chest swell with pride. Still, it feels like it's not enough, though, and he needs more. He wants to own you, possess you, make you his.
Dabi snaps. 
With a suppressed growl, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. He's not letting you catch your breath before he propels his cock back inside you again. His hand slides from the dip in your spine to the spot between your shoulder blades, pressing down until your face is buried in the sheets. At this angle, he reaches even deeper than before, his piercings rubbing your G-spot just right. Your hands tightly fist the soft duvet with every drive of his hips, knocking the air from your lungs.
Dabi seems delirious, pistoning in and out of you now. Reaching forward, he gathers your hair around his fist, tugging it to keep you in place, forcing your head up from the sheets. You sob out his name, your chin and cheeks covered with your drool and tears. 
But Dabi is drowning too deep in pleasure to notice. 
"I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll never think of anyone but me in your fantasies," Dabi growls while your elbows shake under the pressure of his forceful thrusts.
Slowly, your mind is falling apart with the pleasure pulsing through your body. Dabi starts drilling his big cock into your even faster now. You tremble below him, thighs quivering when you feel another orgasm building up. 
“You gonna cum for me again, princess?” Dabi groans, “I can feel your pussy clenching around me.”
You nod, too exhausted to form any words. Dabi tightens his hold on your hip, fingers digging into your plush skin, holding you still. 
“I’m gonna cum with you,” he tells you. “I’m gonna fill up your tight hole, gonna breed you so good—fuck!”
"Please—" you whimper pathetically, finding yourself trapped in his lewd promises. 
And then you lose it, feeling like the world is disappearing underneath your feet. Pleasure rips through you, leaving you with no strength. It’s an intense tingling pleasure that starts in your core and spreads through your whole body, from your fingertips down to your toes. It's all-consuming and euphoric, your body not knowing what to do with that much sensation at once. 
You feel your body falling off a cliff into a pile of tingling ecstasy as you cum again with a broken whimper escaping your lips. The orgasm is even more potent than the last ones, like a massive burst of pleasure; all that tension explodes and shoots up the back of your legs and everywhere else. You moan and shudder, your pussy clamping around his cock. 
“That’s it,” Dabi lets out a long, shuddering groan. “Just like that.”
You forget to breathe while Dabi keeps fucking your harder and harder, feral with desire, shoving his cock as deep inside you as he can.
“Oh fuck—” You gasp out, arching your back, fingers twisting against the sheets.
No sooner have the words slipped from your lips that you feel your whole body lock tight again—and then unravel. You forget to breathe as an unending cascade of euphoria detonates deep inside of you. You come undone, shaking uncontrollably as juices gush from your pussy, dripping down Dabis balls, drenching the sheets below. 
Dabi groans, his eyes screwing shut, head dropping back. With one final possessive thrust of his hips, he cums, shooting his seed deep inside you. You feel his cock twitch as he moans heavily, eyebrows sewn together. His body is shuddering, his hips hitching while he rides out his orgasm.
You’re faintly aware of your surroundings, buried too deeply in your bliss. Unable to take any more pleasure, you slump backward. Dabi slides his softening cock from you with an obscene wet sound before dropping down onto the bed beside you, taking you with him.
“Fuck…” he breathed out, caressing your skin. “That felt so—”
‘And—cut!’ You hear a voice call, speaking its way into the mush that is your brain, slapping you back to reality.
You open your eyes and look around in shock, having completely forgotten where you are. The lights switch on, almost blindingly bright. People start hustling about the set, and cameras mere inches away from you now pull back into their waiting positions. 
“That was perfect,” you hear Tenko say through the noise filling the set now.
Your breath catches in your throat, an unsettling feeling beginning to well inside you. Your heart starts pounding at an increasingly rapid pace while you feel panic stretch its icy fingers up your spine.
You feel a warm hand cradling your face, angling it to the side. It’s Dabi. He places his mouth over yours without further ado. 
“You are perfect.” Dabi coos into the kiss, and it happens again— butterflies erupt in your gut, the world around you fading until there's only you and him.
Instinctively, you let go, feeling the tension slowly dissipate and your heart calming down. Dabi smiles as he breaks away from you, and you feel it— a lingering warmth, an unseen connection that spins fragile threads between you both.
A man approaches to help you get out of bed, but Dabi, whose face is still dewy with sweat, moves between you both. He takes the bathrobe from the guy and wraps it around your shivering body before getting dressed himself.
Helping you off the bed, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and leads you past the celebrating crew members from the set until you’re backstage. 
Once in the changing room, he closes the door behind him and leans against it. 
“That was something…” he muses. “You’re a natural. Would you ever consider doing this again with me?’ 
You're caught off-guard, his face radiating a tenderness that fills your heart with something joyful. A warmth spreads across your face, your hands gripping the soft belt of your robe as you nip at your lower lip. “I-I don't know.”
“You should,” Dabi kicks off the door frame and saunters over you with a sinful, obscene sway of his hips. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing in a silent agreement, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Think about it…”
He lets the words hang in the air for a second. When he pulls away, his arms wrap around your neck, lower half still pressed against you as if you’re not a stranger. He looks down at you like the two of you have been dating for years.
“So, I was wondering… what are you doing later on?” Dabi kisses the tip of your nose. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat and get some drinks?”
“Are you asking me out on a date?” A new desire for him grows inside of you. You smile back at him, reaching up to gently play with his dark hair.
“Maybe?” His lips curl into a devious smirk.
“Is this even allowed?” Chest to chest, your heartbeat slowly catches up to his, as if your bodies react simultaneously to each other's warm touch.
“Maybe?” Dabi repeats, his thumb gently brushing along your lips.
When you look into his eyes, a tenderness softens the rough edges of his sharp features. It makes you wonder, he’s been so sweet and caring after everything that happened today– you actually believe he’s a genuinely sincere and nice guy. You feel your heart quiet when you’re with him, as if you have found peace. 
“Well…” you consider, “I've just thrown all my morals into the wind. So, might as well go on a date with a pornstar, right?”
“You won't regret it.” Dabis laughs softly. “Even though you might not be able to move after I'm done with you—”
“Is that so…” You are torn between scolding him or laughing because he's so cute. “Ok, big boy, whatever you say.”
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awearywritersworld · 3 months
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the day of my execution
sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist
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truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.
"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."
"we need to talk."
sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"
"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.
"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."
"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."
yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?
"no one else would be so brazen."
it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.
"i should call gojo—"
"that is out of the question."
"do you want to keep her safe or not?"
sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."
yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."
"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."
yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."
before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.
that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.
once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."
"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"
though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.
"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."
gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."
"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."
"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"
"almost anybody—"
"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."
"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."
"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."
gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.
"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."
"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"
"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."
sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.
but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.
for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.
and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.
"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.
"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."
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sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.
he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.
"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.
"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."
crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."
"it's fine. it's only a little glass."
when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"
"i don't make a habit of it."
"i know. the question was rhetorical."
sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.
"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.
he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.
and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.
but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.
it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.
so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.
reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."
"what.. what is it?"
he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"
you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."
you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.
strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.
"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"
"sure of what?"
"that i should have it."
he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.
he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"
"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."
sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."
his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.
moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."
and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?
"but promise me something anyway."
"anything," you say without delay.
he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.
"promise you won't ever take it off."
you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.
you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.
"say it."
"i promise."
he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."
it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.
it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.
"i... i don't know what to say."
"well, that's a first."
"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."
"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"
you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."
he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."
you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.
he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.
you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.
although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.
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it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.
his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.
now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.
but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.
he has to get back to you after all.
the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:
for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.
in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.
and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.
however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.
the very thought makes him sick with grief.
looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.
he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.
so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.
opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.
your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.
you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.
"you're back," you rasp.
"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.
you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."
"charming."
you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.
you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."
he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."
recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."
"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."
"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"
he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."
he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."
you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.
"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.
he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.
"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."
"what?" you ask sleepily.
"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."
"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."
"i'll hold you to that."
and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.
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a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @wineyoungie @vduxx @inflatabledinosaurs19 @harrystylesfan2686 @silentmajesticfox @am-the-renegade @certainduckanchor @moons-reblog @scarletrosesposts @th3-audac1ty @darlink-xoxo @ayeputita @nanmiik @namjooningera @hermxssaa @annieleonhardtsbitch @nugget-eater123 @integers @thefunbanshee @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress @luckypeacevoid @kiki17483 @ruttteerr @yourbelloved @heyohalie // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.
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sitting in my house and feeling scared of everything alone
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aturinfortheworse · 2 years
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Manifesto of the Committee for the Sick and Useless
Those of us with disabilities form an interest group with an immense number of seemingly abled people. Everyone whose culture, beliefs, age, personality, sexuality, language, immigration status or other inclination makes them less useful to society belongs with disabled people in the fight to exist without justification.
The Committee for the Sick and Useless believe it is the innate and inalienable right of all people to:
       Do Nothing
       Help No One
       Feel Awful
And above all else
       Be Useless
In this age of increasing productivity and accomplishment, we too often sacrifice the most sacred right of all living things: to simply exist, asking much and contributing nothing. We sacrifice this right not just for ourselves as individuals but for all life on Earth present and future. 
Our existence has been made conditional on the work we are expected to do, whether that work is employment, education, or caring for the home. Even plants and animals must now earn their right to exist by producing food, providing beauty, cleaning our air, warming our hearts. The ugly, unpleasant and useless are abandoned.
We, the committee, do not consider ourselves at odds with health, joy and usefulness. Rather we are united with all good and joyful people in our fight against the demand for productivity. Our enemies are those who demand that the land produce wealth, that the workers produce profit, that the sick produce medical certificates, that children grow up and the elderly make themselves scarce. 
The right to exist is the foundation of all human rights and duties; it cannot be made conditional, lest all rights be made conditional. We support the right of everyone, everywhere, to live.
In this admittedly revolutionary goal, we have many allies. These include, but are not limited to: queers, cripples, drug users, the unemployed, the mentally ill, the anti-colonial, the incomprehensible, the celibate, the ugly, mutes, mystics, pessimists, mosquitoes, cats, children, teenagers, the elderly, speakers of suppressed languages, and people without a driving license.
This is Chapter 31 of Redefining Disability, with very minor edits. I held off on posting this until it was published. It is now in a real physical book that they cannot take away from me so here you all go.
If you would like a copy of this or any other chapters from the journal, there is a pinned post on my blog with free download details. I would also be happy to email them to you.
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yamameta-inc · 3 months
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it is horrific what we’re allowing to happen to children right now. if covid causes cognitive dysfunction and decline in adult brains, what impact will it have on small brains that are still developing? many children who are too young to even be vaccinated are catching covid, as well as a whole host of other opportunistic infections. children can get, are getting, long covid. children aren’t sick often because it’s “normal” or “good” for them—they’re sick often because they’re more vulnerable than adults.
children have no choice but to be sent to schools where they get sick again and again. they don’t have the ability to distance themselves from their parents and establish boundaries, they’re entirely reliant on their carers. if their parents do not believe in covid prevention, they have no means to protect themselves. they don’t have the ability to consent to what is happening to their health.
schools are not just allowing children who are sick to attend class anyway, they’re borderline mandating it. schools as an institution care more about meaningless attendance records than about students’ wellbeing. the classroom is an environment where all factors incentivize students coming to school sick.
there are horrific accounts from parents about kids being sick 24/7, never having energy, struggling with schoolwork. there are horrific accounts from teachers about their young students being different these days, unable to handle the usual schoolwork, showing signs of that classic covid “brainfog.” i’ve seen evidence of schools making their tests and criteria much easier in order to maintain an acceptable pass rate instead of addressing the actual core problem in the slightest.
i often think about a comment i read once about how someone knew it was fucked when no change happened after sandy hook, when the US decided and enshrined the fact that children were acceptable sacrifices. this is how it feels. this isn’t just about the US though. children are getting reinfected with covid again and again worldwide. this is about the entire next generation.
they didn’t choose any of this. they have no power to stop this whatsoever. none of us consented to this, obviously, but children most of all. most of them don’t even have any idea what’s happening to them, and won’t for years.
there needs to be a push for schools to adopt better covid prevention measures, like better ventilation and air filtration. but even more crucial, and much more difficult, is to do away with the ideology at the core of how schools are designed. just like how workers deserve sick leave, children need to be able to stay home when sick. no jumping through hoops for a doctor’s note to be accepted, no strict time limit. schools obviously know that 1 student staying home sick is less disruptive than 20 students being sick and unable to do their schoolwork. they know the math, but they aren’t after efficiency. just like companies know that happier workers are more productive. that’s not the point. it’s more obvious than ever what is choking our societies to death on every level.
i’ve seen university unions who’ve won teachers the right to demand masking in their lessons, the right to have air filters installed in their classrooms. the same needs to happen for K12 schools, especially since young children can’t advocate for themselves. parents could theoretically wield a lot of influence as well—but let’s face it, most are uninterested in or actively hostile to the idea of better air for their children. efforts to combat this need to be organized, sustained, and coordinated.
imagine how current children will feel once they grow up and look back and realize that their health was compromised before they even learned to speak, that they were born into a sick world, that they were born to be sick, not inevitably but because people preferred things this way.
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groggygrimalkin · 3 months
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Also on the topic of biotechnology I think Alternians making living beings into utility, vehicles,weapons, and just everyday products is also a massive show of "Don't fuck with us because the last thing that did is now a component in a car". On the off chance that a planet being invaded by Alternian forces wins, its customary to destroy and bury any of their technology that remains to not prolonge its suffering. Hi yes I want to write Alternian society as a whole more horrifying and alien like, to anyone who's been invaded by them they are not just gray humans they're seen by many as a horrific and brutal cosmic parasite who grows and captures living things just to turn them into everyday products. If you try and download too many things on your husktop it might get sick and bile will be ejected from the disk drive, if a scuttlebuggy gets into a fenderbender it will bleed like a stuck pig, and Alternian battleships groans aren't just mechanical they're real and alive and in pain and crying out into the void
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she-is-ovarit · 1 year
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You know what work needs more positive recognition? The people (overwhelmingly women) who do these jobs:
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Women who do trauma cleaning and no-judgement cleanings as their jobs to help people with severe mental illnesses. I think it's an area of women's work that isn't really talked about. Plenty of women are so passionate about doing this work that they start their own businesses.
Think about the different angles in which this is so incredibly helpful to not just the individuals but society. Less people likely struggle with ongoing health conditions because of this work. More social connections are probably made because these residents no longer afraid to invite professional, personal, and romantic contacts over after these cleans are done. Higher work productivity because these residents are not constantly thinking about the big overwhelming cleaning task in the back of their minds whether they work from home or not. Less damage done to the home if this is dealt with. Less vet bills being spent on really sick animals who might live there. General overall ability for people with mental health conditions to improve psychologically.
It's incredibly disgusting and time consuming work, yet it seems like many of these women genuinely find the helping other people aspect of it really rewarding.
And then there's also just women who are doing this for fucking free for the people they love:
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