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#so why does he feel so miserable now?
evilkaeya · 2 years
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Moonjo stops calling Jongwoo ‘jagiya’ just to mess with him and Jongwoo hates it
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suffarustuffaru · 7 months
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ok but im getting emo over heinkel again so im gonna talk about him again because yeah hes yet another sad character in a sea of sad characters and i love rezero for that but like he is a character consistently characterized by one loss after the other. it's a rollercoaster and its going straight fucking down and he is so miserable and absolutely alone and its both his fault and not his fault at all. but the way it starts is - its all out of his control. the more you think about the trajectory of his life the sadder it gets.
imagine you are heinkel and your parents are the sword saint and the sword demon and you come from a long line of knights and sword saints so thats almost definitely where youre headed, right? thats whats expected of you. you are nineteen years old and youre a knight in the royal guard, which was expected of you, and you have a wife and a beautiful baby boy, which was also expected of you, but at least you have so much joy and love for the latter while the former is just another chain on the astrea family line of people who are stuck to knighthood whether they like it or not. but your family is also just another chain because youre nineteen and your mother is still the sword saint and youre playing with fate here because either youre going to be the sword saint or your son will be.
your wife, the only equal you have, falls asleep one day and never wakes up. you are twenty-one years old and a single parent and then you are twenty-three years old and your son's fate is so much bigger than youll ever be. having the worlds love means that your love pales in comparison, doesnt it? everyone knows about your comatose wife because you keep searching so much for a cure that its just another thing to gossip about. every year that passes by she just continues to look the same as she did when she was awake and alive and loved you. (you dont know it yet but your son is going to reach the same age as her, because you dont find a cure for another sixteen years and you know that she wont love you anymore because who does? theres no one left because your son doesnt count.)
and everyone knows about you because of your family. because yeah, youre a good swordsman, but youre not liked by anyone in the knights. youre not a friend and youre certainly not a sword saint or sword demon. your son mind controls someone because he loves you so much that he would do anything for you and looks up to you like youre some hero, but youre just a wreck whos scrambling to keep what little you have. youre twenty-four and you lose your mom because you were too scared to go on the mission you were assigned on, because youre a coward and youre in over your head and you know, because everyone knows, that you dont measure up. you could never be prepared for this. in a long line of people who have to carry the weight of the world, you crumble easily. your mom goes on that mission and dies and your son becomes the sword saint like this was always going to happen. this is what being loved by the world means. you just killed your mom because you just couldnt suck it up and die on that mission instead. on top of that, your dad says that your five-year-old god of a son killed your mom. its just you and your son and the two of you both killed your mom but youre the worlds biggest laughing stock and your son is the up and coming hero and monster. but you still love your son. you really do.
right?
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marc--chilton · 23 days
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still losing my mind at the way houses relationship with john would have fucked up the way he sees being an omega. just,,, teen house, young and confused, experiencing these absoloutely brutal heats. not understanding why they are so bad and hard when theyre supposed to be a time where an omega feels good. already feeling broken and wrong, and then having to face john's anger and disappointment over him being an omega
like i can only imagine how it would affect him in heat, a time where he would be less able to think coherently. and constantly remembering how traumatic and horrible his heats as a teen were, the memory making him feel bad and in turn making him feel physically worse. just like,,, a constant feedback loop of remembering and feeling bad -> feeling physically worse in turn -> reminding himself even more of his childhood and feeling worse
i feel like after having to deal with his first few heats without a strong family net to acclimate to the changes, once house is outta there and doing his own thing he tries to never deal with his heats alone. he marks his cycle religiously, makes deals with alphas in med school to help him through them, or even finds street suppressants if he's especially desperate.
man. you just know john has put him outside for some of his heats, too. nothing to nest with, no scent blocking patches, just left him in the yard like a sacrificial lamb. it goes without saying how dangerous that is.
hell, once he's employed i wouldn't be surprised if he stole something from the hospital to bring home in case a heat comes up that he can't deal with, something that'll knock him out for the worst of it.
#asks#certified-moth#house md#writing a fic that is basically just heat whump for a lot of it as i type this#house's heats are bad always it's just how it is for him#but once he has the infarction it's even worse#his leg becomes another focal point for pain to localize to and the scar is so severe that when he's in heat#it runs scary hot. like where the muscle is missing sits just a molten core of pure agony#fainting spells and delirium become new side effects as a result#it is a pathetic miserable sight and he WANTS to be alone so no one can see him like that#but dealing with them alone is torture so he just doesn't win. it fucks with his issues of self#something else to resent about his body#he and wilson develop a fairly solid unofficial........ thing early on in their friendship#it would have taken wilson more convincing had he not witnessed the effects himself and got his caretaker heart twanging#even when he's married. which doesn't necessarily mean he's cheating but uh. it doesn't help in his case#all of it compounds into a very big mess that does not help the success rates of his marriages#goes to show how much more time wilson spends with house than his wives when he's more synced with house than them#now THAT is an offense. THAT'S what can get feelings hurt#it makes him feel bad but he tries to reassure himself by comparing their heats to house's. they don't understand how bad it is#<- probably the cause of several arguments#wilson trying to get bonnie or julie to understand why he Needs to do this and bristling when they Just Don't Get It#“house didn't break up our marriage but he sure didn't help” etc#mgv
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lyxchen · 1 month
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I don't like this season
#it has some good moments#but i keep wanting something to happen#like stuff happens but also nothing happens#and everyone is just sad and miserable and hating each other#like last season it was also like that but there were still enough happy moments#now it just feels unbalanced#and i don't like that they fully split apart amerie and malakai#they were so good together#and rowan sucks#like i know he's (spoiler) birdpsycho but he also just sucks in general#and he's so damn boring#we get it#amerie hurt you (or your brother idk) when you were little and never got (in your opinion) proper punishment and now that you're at her#school you wanna make life a living hell for her#i get it now get over it#(i'm still at episode six tho so i could be wrong and also no spoilers please)#also where is sasha's redemption arc?????#i feel like she got even worse#cause she isn't just entitled and selfish now she's also a hypocrite#like season one sasha would have picked that cup up and thrown it in the trash#and she deserved that redemption arc#but instead we get to see how deep spider problems actually are ohh poor baby boy :(( shut the fuck up#why does he get all this characterization and then they won't even let sasha feel one genuine emotion????#also#WHY IS THERE SO LITTLE QUINNI??????#and why would darren scream at her and say such mean things to her#i relate to her so much and all her friends just dropped her like that#like the thing happened at the zoo and then darren and amerie had like one line of 'oh where is quinni i miss her'#and they both didn't even bother to ho talk to her or make up#heartbreak high
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apathyfairy · 7 months
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death anniversaries are like it's been x years since they were alive. on this day x years ago they were alive and now they're not. it's been x years since we've been on the earth together and i'm still here and they're not. at this time x years ago they were still alive. im going to get something to eat
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Being a little angsty here but...
Thinking about how Soap probably uses rain to cry and hide his tears, it's not like anyone can see the difference. And during rainy days everyone is inside so...
I gave myself emotional damage thinking about this so... I shall share it too! :'D
#hes always hidding his sadness behind a smile#and rain brings him an instant melancholy he just can't really hide#so on rainy days he just disappears for hours and let's himself have a good cry#dreaching himself in the process but then no one can really tell what's tears and what's rain right?#he probably will just push himself to run never ending laps in the rain so he can just get rid of the feeling#it doesn't work not really just makes it worse cus now he has to try to control his breathing and cry and he's just a mess#i am going hard on the absolute lack of control soap has for his negative emotions#he runs and runs and then ends up on the floor staring at the sky crying harder than he meant bc everything just got too much#am i projecting? who knows :')#just... soap laying on the floor hands pressing hard against his eyes gasping#for breath and in between sobs failling miserably#he stays there until he doesn't feel like throwing up anymore and then goes and showers in his room#crying just starting up again#after he's done with all he just lays in his room#and for the next couple of days doesn't leave his room unless strictly necessary#faking being happy when he does just makes everything worse#man this is so sad why do i do this to myself :'(#oh well#i just needed to ramble this on here#cus i just saw some posts saying that more people need to write soap being sad and#FUCKING TRUE#BUT GOD DOES IT HURT#manyrambles#brought to you by me making myself sad by thinking about soap being sad#also is this too... emo? sjsjskmsksk#'yeah i cry in the rain cus it hides my tears' sounds very emo#cod#john soap mactavish#call of duty soap#call of duty
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scoreplings · 11 months
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i hate when i do stupid shit that i know will make me more upset and then i get more upset
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sudokuplayer · 2 years
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#one of my mom's friends is getting her husband (who is a psychiatrist) to get me a certificate so i dont have to go to vote#cause it's mandatory and i'm agoraphobic but haven't been to the doc since march 🥴👍🏼#but like it's very obvious why 🤨 it terrifies me❗❗❗❗❗❗❗#anyway if i dont vote i have to pay and it's not like an insane amount of money but i'm jobless and a loser so my plan was killing myself🫣#and i know my mom and siblings would pay but it's so humiliatinggggg#it's also so humiliating that she told that friend about me i feel sick cause she was my brother's teacher#and my brother is so nice and brilliant and talented and well liked by everyone. and my sister is pretty and makes a lot of money#like i wanna die when i imagine my mom telling her friend about me the middle child who is the world's loserest girl 🫠#like obviously she talks about me and my mess with her friends 🙄 even tho i always tell her to act like im dead#but now im CERTAIN she does talk about me 🤮#... the other day she was on the phone with another friend and i heard the friend asked about my siblings and then about me and she asked#''does she eat with you or in her room?''#🥴 it made me so sickk i dont know why#btw she asked that because my mom was telling her about dinner like what she was cooking and stuff#ok anyway i hope that thing works cause ive been so miserable since i found out the vote thing was mandatory 🤮#and i'm sure it's illegal what the friendcs husband will do 🫣 so i'm scared#but like i have been diagnosed by two different docs 😭 and ive been on meds and i stop taking them all the time cause im paranoid but yea#the only lie is the fact that he hasn't been involved in my flop treatment..#and that vote thingy is not like elections. it's another thing and it is important and all but 🫣 i just couldn't care less right now ❗
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garlique · 5 months
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day 7 of no fucking nicotine and it really just feels like it's getting fucking worse :/
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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the secret wife
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- nanami kento x reader
follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is
note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...
“Hello? Yuji—”
Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.
“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”
Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.
“Oh? What's—”
“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”
And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—
—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.
“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.
Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...
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Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.
And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.
“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.
One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.
“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”
And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.
But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.
And did he feel so miserable afterwards.
. . .
“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”
Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.
"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."
"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"
"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."
And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”
"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"
"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"
Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—
"I'm going after them!"
"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"
Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.
Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.
Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.
The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.
"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"
Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.
"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"
"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"
Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"
With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?
Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"
And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."
"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.
"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"
After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.
"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"
"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"
"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.
"Eh? Huh!?"
Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—
Crash!
"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.
"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"
"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"
"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.
Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."
"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.
Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"
For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.
It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.
Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"
Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.
“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”
“S-so you are married!”
“Yes, that was what I—”
“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”
Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.
Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”
“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”
“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.
"Aren't we friends?! How—!"
"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.
Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.
Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.
"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"
"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.
Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.
There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.
"Gojo," Megumi blurted.
"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.
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Epilogue
"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"
That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.
"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"
You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."
Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."
"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."
"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.
"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”
Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.
"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"
"People like Gojo are confused—"
Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."
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mostly-imagines · 2 months
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Banished
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason misses his girlfriend
warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)
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Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.
Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes and Tim sits atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.
Damian trudges past them to the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.
He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”
Jason just grunts.
He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.
It’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He wouldn’t mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stay behind. A lose-lose for Jason.
“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out.” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.
Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”
Jason kept his head down as he blindly reached for the spoon in his cereal and chucked it at Tim’s head.
Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”
“She’s gotta work.” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.
Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”
“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think.” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.
Damian pauses.
“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.
“Watch your mouth.” Jason mumbles.
“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.
Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”
It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.
Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.
He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.
Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.
He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.
And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.
And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.
Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.
But you could.
Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.
He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.
He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.
And he watches Jason.
As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.
He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.
He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.
The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.
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lemonlover1110 · 4 months
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𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Summary: Your husband usually calls for you to join him during his bath.
Warnings: MDNI, mentions of Sukuna killing people, rough pregnancy, Sukuna being fluffy (so slightly ooc), reader is mean to Sukuna
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Ever since you shared the news of your pregnancy with your husband, Sukuna has become more loving. The man who’d talk to you however he wanted, now makes sure to soften his voice when talking to you. He wants to see you every hour of the day, even when you don’t want to see him. Sukuna is seeing how you’re struggling with your pregnancy, and he wants to check up on you constantly.
You’re not too far along that you both know of, yet you’re huge. He grows worried that his selfish want of a child will cause you harm. There’s one person that Sukuna would die for, and it’s you. If something were to happen to you because of himself then he’d– He doesn’t want to think of it.
Lately he’s been asking to take baths with you. At the end of the day, a servant walks into your chambers and informs you, “Lord Sukuna requests for you to join him in his bath, mistress.”
She bows her head to not look at you, scared that she’ll end up like the last servant that dared to look you in the eye. It was Sukuna’s doing because how dare someone look his wife in the eye? You sigh before telling her, “I’ll be there in a second.” 
She stands in the entrance of your room, given orders to not leave without you. Sure, Sukuna requests to see you but it’s an order from him. You don’t have much of an option. 
You follow behind her, and she excuses herself when you’re finally with him. Sukuna lays comfortably in the water, patiently waiting for you to get undressed and join him in the water. He watches as you take off all your garments and walk over to him when you’re completely bare. 
“You need to start leaving me alone, you’re starting to annoy me.” You tell him as you get in the water. Sukuna chuckles, finding it amusing how you’ve completely stopped fearing him. One of his hands caresses you from your breasts to your bump, resting there.
“Now, why are you getting mad at me? I thought you wanted a loving husband?” Sukuna comments, kissing the top of your head. Your hand rests on top of his, lightly squeezing it.
“I wanted one before he got me pregnant. I swear I must be carrying twins– Or the baby also has four arms. I don’t know, I’m just miserable.” You confess, and Sukuna kisses the top of your head again. He really shouldn’t have expected it to be any different. Sukuna’s huge, why would his baby be any different?
“It’s just one and done then?” He asks, and you hum in response. Maybe your answer will be different in a few years, but for now it’s that. He feels a tug on his heartstrings, seeing how much you’re struggling. He’s worried. “Are you holding up okay, though?”
“Not like we could do anything if I wasn’t.” You answer. He’s definitely much softer than your usual husband, and you would’ve loved it if you weren’t carrying a monster child. His hand remains on your stomach, and he feels as his baby kicks while you moan in pain. Sukuna shushes you, feeling as his baby moves.
“I’m trying to feel him! Shut up, woman!” He raises his voice, and you slightly turn to glare at him. A look that would surely kill you if you were anyone else.
“How does me making noise correlate with you feeling the baby! Think, Sukuna! Use your fucking brain.” You’re definitely bolder than usual, which makes him laugh. 
“You’re so beautiful when you’re yelling at me.” He says, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss it. “I love seeing you demanding and mean. It shows the effect I have on you.”
“Really?” You answer, and he hums in response. There’s no better time to bring up what’s been bugging you than now. “I hate that new servant you took in. Kick her out.”
“And why is that?” He asks. 
“She was looking at you funny.” You respond.
“In the sense?”
“She has the hots for you, and I don’t like it.”
“Hmm… What if I was looking for–” He begins and you glare at him. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, but he guesses that’s something that’s off limits when he tries to joke. “Don’t you want me to do more?”
“Like what?” You question, even though you should know your husband better than anyone.
“Kill her.” He answers. 
“Hmm… Up to you.” You reply. You lay comfortably on his chest, feeling as his finger traces lazy circles on your belly. You change the topic, “Why do you think it’s a boy?”
“I can’t see myself with a daughter.”
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bitchimasnake-sss · 7 months
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"i feel kinda ugly" ft. the monster trio!
in which the biggest dumbasses in the whole of sea comfort you when you fall prey to your shitty thoughts
ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader
set-up: you happened to utter out what you thought of yourself and these men are here to prove you wrong. (kind of a serious set of headcanons, but ill try being funny when i can)
warnings: nsfw; somnophilia if you squint, oral f!receiving and m!recieving, boobjob, creampie; MDNI (thankyou very much)
luffy:
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my fav little gremlin's in town ^^
- "i feel kinda ugly" you had muttered it under your breath, words dissolving into the chilly night air. you were laying on your shared bed, staring up at the uneventful ceiling as he snored lightly next to you. - he was supposed to be asleep, atleast that's what you had thought (how can you expect him to stay up after eating like 500kg of meat??) - but he stirs awake almost instantly, turning his head to look at your face. he stifles a yawn, mumbling through a half-lidded gaze, "why would you say that?" - "why would i say what?" you smile, waving it off as if it had just been a wayward thought - but lord knows the amount of nights you've tossed and turned, thinking about all the ways you were incompetent for this man who lay in front of you. you weren't pretty like nami or robin, you weren't quick-witted like them, god, what did he see in you? - "who said you were ugly?" his face is scrunched up, the crease b/w his eyebrows deepening "luffy let it g-" "no. who said it?" his violent undertone doesn't go unnoticed, as if he's threatening to take care of whoever made you miserable - you don't have the heart to tell him it's yourself. you convinced yourself you weren't pretty enough. - and so, you stay silent - but his arms are pulling you impossibly close. closer and closer till your chest is pressed flushed against his and you're staring at him confused - "luf-" "that's bullshit." there's conviction in his words that make a dull warmth cascade over your face and neck. - he is pressing his forehead against yours, hands gripping onto you tightly as if letting his grip loosen means he loses this argument. "you're beautiful. you're smart and kind and beautiful." - at this point, youre about to cry - but he inhales deeply, then says "not to mention you smell like a fruit. thats tasty." - yeah the tears dried up. they fucked off and went to sahara desert. - youre currently fighting off a smile because what the actual fuck prompted this man to say that??? and more importantly what fruit do you smell like? "what fruit do i smell like?" "mhm" he's deep in thought, "tangerines" "luffy everyone smells like tangerine. it's because of nami's tangerine trees." he shrugged, "still pretty tasty" - and now youre kissing his adorably stupid face. your fingers tug on the hair on his nape lightly and he whines into the kiss, sucking on your bottom lip as he does so - "you're so pretty" and so he's kissing your neck, nibbling and grazing lazily - two seconds later, he fell asleep. - like actually fell asleep. his mouth is on your neck, open mouthed and half-nibbling and he's snoring through it all. (i mean, what did you expect from someone who had eaten 500kg of meat??) - issokay though cause the second he wakes up, his fingers are hiking one of your legs over his hip. the same fingers then slip inside the loose folds of your shorts, playing with your pretty pussy till you stir awake, moaning his name - you're the one being toyed with and he's the one whispering and whining like he's gonna explode "does that feel good, ngh-" a grin, "god... fuck, cum for me, pretty" - he continues till your velvety walls are spasming against his fast-paced fingers and your teeth are sinking into his shoulder, muffling shrieks this early in the morning - "you're gorgeous" he whispers through a grin - you choose to believe him
zoro:
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myhusband ^^
- this was the last thing you wanted. truly. - zoro had just stepped out of the shower with nothing but a towel losely tied around his waist (this was after he had succesfully ignored you and trained for like an eternity) - water droplets clung onto his broad figure, slowly trailing downwards as they glided over every ridge and scar - you probably should have pulled him onto the bed with you, straddled his hips and asked him to stop ignoring you to go spend time with his swords - you probably should have. - instead, you lay stomach-down on your bed, your head softly cradled beneath your arms and against the pillow - "what's up with you?" he asks, unfazed to your tactics "nothing" you mumble half-heartedly he gave you a double over, "you sure? you're sulking more than usual" "i-" you sigh, "i just idk... i just feel kinda ugly?" - this motherfucker laughs, "yeah i mean you kinda are" - he didn't know you were serious. he didn't know till you were softly crying against the linen sheets, your body shivering against your own cries and staggered breaths - "yn?" there's panic in his voice, "yn, baby, are you crying?! fUCK IM SORRY!" - he didn't know you were serious. i mean how wAS HE SUPPOSED TO KNOW?! HE THOUGHT YOU WERE BEING DRAMATIC FOR NO REASON LIKE ALWAYS - "hey" you've never heard the swordsman speak so softly as he does now. he's pulling you up softly, placing you in his lap almost mechanically, "yn, baby-" - he lets you sob into his chest for as long as you need to, his fingers are rubbing gentle patterns into your back, arms and waist. - once you've calm down, his hand tips your face lightly towards him. he silently wipes the tears away. - he doesn't say anything and somehow his silence brings more comfort than his words could. - "don't think stupid shit" his palm is resting on your face, pouring warmth across the stretch of your cheek, "you're gorgeous." "but you said im ugly" you lean into his touch "i also said i will return back nami's loans with full interest" a small smile tugs on his lips, "sometimes even i say stupid shit" "so, you don't think i'm ugly?" - his response comes in the way of leaning in and kissing you, one hand on your cheek as the other kneads your waist. - he's laying you down, hovering over you easily and pressing hot kisses to your neck and jawline. sucking, biting till you can feel bruises blossoming across your skin. his knee presses against your core, blinding you with delicious jolts " his agile fingers are hiking up your skirt, letting it pool around your waist, "let me show you how pretty you are, baby" - so, he's pulling your panties with his teeth, he's licking a clean stripe on your inner thigh, kissing and bruising the sensitive skin "and you're dripping wet already? want me to fuck you that bad, eh?" - he's running his tongue over your clit, tracing figures as he alternates between your drooling hole and the bundle of nerves - and so obviously you're now cumming on his face, letting your juices coat his lips, thighs shaking as he gives you kitten licks to help you ride your orgasm - he looks up at you; your hairline damp with sweat, eyes closed in bliss, a warm hue of red sprinkled across your face, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath "i've never seen someone prettier" he declares from between the plush of your thighs, smiling up at you like it was the first time he had truly seen you - you choose to believe him
sanji:
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mhm, a fine specimen ^^
- you don't keep secrets from sanji. - or more like you physically cannot. - this man is your greatest cheerleader, there's no way you can hide something from him no matter how squeamish it makes you to say out loud - so after noticing your off behaviour the entire evening and pestering you for twenty minutes after dinner, he had successfully got you to say what you were thinking out loud "sweetheart, darling, the apple of my eye. what is wrong?" you shake your head again, "nothing." "yn, my love, 'fess up" - he said it so sweetly you had to fess up. there was no choice. - "i just feel a bit bad about myself today" "bad? how so?" "i just... just feel kinda ugly" - he looks like he's going into cardiac arrest (he probably is) cause there's no way you, his girlfriend, literally the prettiest girl in all four seas just said that out loud - honestly, i can just see this man tearing up and blaming himself "is it me, mon chéri? did i do something wrong?" tears are clinging on dangerously onto his lasheline "what?! no!" "i am sorry. i love you so much. i must have said something wrong because you're so gorgeous, so earth-shatteringly beautiful-" - honestly you had to calm this bitch down first, explaining to him that he was perfect in every way he can be, it's probably just your own fault - but he refuses to accept it as your fault. - this man, this beautiful, amazing man has to now cling onto you and pepper kisses onto you face like there's no tomorrow. like everytime you try to speak, he wont let you cause he needs to ramble about how absolutely gorgeous you are - he spoke for so long that you are now convinced that to the world you may not be the prettiest woman alive but to this blonde man (with a great ass), you mean everything - his kisses blended into soft whispers and whimpers as you forced him to rest against the headboard and straddled his hips - you can feel his poking erection through his dress slacks as you kiss him senseless with only one goal in mind, to let him know he did nothing wrong - you nudge his slacks downwards till his cock hits you lightly in your face - your lips encircle his tip, sucking on it lightly as your hand moves up and down his length, languid and slow "yn~" his voice is a choked whisper, "you- are killing me. faster, please darling." - now you're catching his dick between your tits, massaging his length with the softness of your breasts as your tongue laps up at his tip, licking any pre-cum that escapes him "fuck fuck fuck fu-" his moans are an incoherent ramble, "i'm gon' cum, fuck you feel- so ngh- good" - he comes on your tits and face and almost releases again when he sees you scoop up the sticky fluid from the corner of your lips and lick it away - so with cum-painted tits and face, he whispers, "yn, you are the most gorgeous woman i have seen." - you choose to believe him
a/n: honestly cannot thank you guys for how much you'be blown up these posts in the past few days, so here, have a little treat
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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How do me and my mother manage to get into a fight every fucking day I want to dieeeeee how have we fought about bullshit and it’s not even ten in the morning like what the fuck I’m so fucking miserable and no one likes me they all make fun of me I need to move out or I’m going to fucking ruin my life !!!!! (Also why won’t my fucking period just start so I can get all of these emotions to stop bothering me!!!)
#literally been home for less than three days and every interaction with my mother has felt like a punch to the gut#today she was bitching to me about my brother leaving his hoodie and his hat on/around the couch he sits on and my mom was bitching about#how he leaves his shit everywhere and whatever else and I was like dude you gotta cut him some slack yknow like he’s been used to living in#a dorm and having a living space where he could be a person and my mom proceeded to be like ‘he doesn’t live here’ AND IM LIKE HE DOES NOW#HE GRADUATED AND MOVED BACK HOME AND YOURE TREATING HIM LIKE A CHILD HE IS DOING ONLINE COURSES AND LOOKING FOR JOBS AND YOU TREAT HIM LIKE#A CHILD#UGHHHH#my mother then proceeded to once again tell me off for being bossy and telling her what to do and I’m sitting here like maybe you should try#fucking listening to me then and treating my brother like a part of the family instead of like company#I know he’s in the guest room technically but he’s part of this fucking family and you and I both have side tables to put shit on its not#his fault that he put his jacket on the couch he has no where else to put it he’s gonna wear it again next time he comes out like what the#fuck why is she such a bitch and then she gets mad at me like idk what you want from me#I used to never get along with my brother and now I’m defending him to you and you act like he’s the worst person ever#like why do you hate your children so much why do you love him but you hate me I’m so sick of crying over mommy issues#but if my mother could just like me that would be incredible I really feel like everyone hates me constantly and no one wants me around and#I try to defend my brother and be nice and it only makes my mother hate me so I just go into my room bc I’ve tried over and over again to be#nice to my mother and apparently I’m doomed to just fucking hate her and have everything I say be an insult or some nit picky bullshit bc my#mouth won’t stop saying whatever my brain is thinking and I keep apologizing and then I keep saying shit it’s like I have the happiest two#few days after months of being alone and miserable and then I come home and immediately it’s like my mother just no longer likes me#I feel like I’m stuck in perpetual coming home from a sleepover mode#do you guys remebrr that? coming home from a sleepover after being happy and your family would instantly make fun of you for being happy or#excited or wanting to talk about the sleepover and then you’d cry and go into your room and feel like shit bc everyone hates you and then#you’d start to assume that everyone at the sleepiver thought the same thing as your family and thought you were annoying and interrupting#their lives by being happy I mean whatttt haha yeah did that happen to anyone else or just me 😭👍👍👍👍#life recently feels like it’s ​me being happy vs me realizing joy doesn’t last vs me needing to ruin my own joy so someone else doesn’t do i#first. I have very strong need to hurt myself before someone else can energy but all it does is make sure I get hurt twice cause someone’s#always gonna hurt my feelings and not care so I should be showing myself compassion but all I want to do is tear my skin apart#been so fucking depressed since I got home I’m fucking miserable and my family hates me I hate everything and I’m so stressed I hate this#anyways 😭😭😭😭 can’t stop crying recently after not crying for months now talking about anything makes me cry and I hate it#I’m embarassing myself constantly bc I can’t hold back from crying
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supercutszns · 4 months
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rotten to the touch; luke castellan
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series masterlist
wc: 3.2k
pairing: pre-tlt luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: you’re pretty sure you’re an awful person. you’re pretty sure luke castellan is too. and you’re pretty sure you want to make out with him.
warnings: reader is flawed & not the greatest, luke is ... a little dark🫣, small mention of blood, swearing, lots of making out but no explicit nsfw, a bit toxic, & no more more ‘i can fix him’ or ‘i can make him worse’ it’s ‘he can make ME worse’
notes: this is… sluttier than my usual stuff so it’s not as good but i’m trying, feedback is appreciated! also i wonder what cabin we think this reader would be in, let me know where you’d place her im curious :) maybe i’ll write more of her in the future she’s interesting!! and thank you for 100 followers i am so grateful<3 designated song for this fic is crush by ethel cain
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You are a miserable, wicked, asshole of a person, and everybody knows it. Including you.
It’s unclear to you why you turned out this way—every reason to blame never satiates the fury searing your insides. All the campers hate you. The counsellors, too. Even Chiron looks down on the viciousness inside you. You are Camp Half-Blood’s black sheep; a mean, bitter person with no love for the people around you. And it’s not just for show. You know you’re rotten. You know the anger will never go away.
It’s evident in the things you think about other people—the way you pick them apart in your head, toss them aside, because they just don’t see it. This miserable, unforgiving world, with children sleeping on wooden floors because the people who created you think you disposable. Because they can just make more of you. More, more, more, until one of you comes out rotten, born of all the ugliness they have inside them. You are the worst parts of Godly blood. The wrathful parts.
Everyone hates you. Everyone hates a person with an unquenchable anger.
But everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s a saint at Camp Half-Blood if there ever was one. Handsome, generous, kind. Goes out of his way to help out the new kids and gives them homes in his cabin. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. Shit, you’d even love Luke Castellan if you didn’t know any better.
But you do, and you don’t, and it’s complicated, okay?
Because there’s something you know about Luke Castellan that nobody else does: he’s miserable and wicked, too.
You see it in his eyes sometimes. The way they look at you at dinner, when you’re picking at your food away from anyone else at your table. Something familiar rises in them, and your stomach twists. His body tenses whenever someone mentions his father, but the smiles he flashes are so charismatic nobody notices. But you do. It’s exciting.
During sword practice, he quips back and forth with the kids and laughs whenever they take a jab at him. He’s light, easy, carefree. But you see how he holds back, the tension in his shoulder, the way the arc of his sword never fully finishes. So you wait until everybody leaves and he’s alone, with the training dummies and the setting sun. And you. Hiding.
He slashes through them and spears through their heads. You see it, the gnashing of his teeth, the sweat curling down his cheeks. There’s something there. A chasm he’s hopeless to fill.
Before you know it, you’re going out of your way to catch him training alone. It’s creepy, you know, and awful, you know, but the more you watch him the more you see a sort of violence scabbed under his skin.
Whenever you see him now, the feeling you get is entirely foreign to you. It’s almost . . . longing.
Wherever she is, you’re pretty sure Aphrodite’s having a cosmic fucking laugh. And you’re sure she’s laughing double tonight.
The Aphrodite cabin is hosting some secret party for the older counsellors. You’re definitely of age to be a counsellor, but you’ve never been made one because that would probably make half the campers drop out. Chiron and Mr. D don’t know what to do with you. You’re sure you’ll be kicked out of camp soon for good.
But you’re here anyways, for a reason you don’t want to admit, and you stay tucked in a corner as the world around you mingles. Luke is on the other side of the room, lovely as always, laughing with a few other counsellors. He brings a drink up to his lips, and you have a startling thought of what it would be like to kiss him. And you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Because for the first time in your life you want something tangible, something real. You want to hear him and feel him and pry him apart, and a part of you wants him to actually see you, see all the awful things that might make you the same. You feel like a teenage girl with a crush, and it is infuriating.
An Aphrodite girl comes up to you with a foolish smile. “Hey, sorry, you want a drink?”
“Fuck off, you idiot,” you snarl.
You wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean all the time,” she says evenly. “If you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. So yes, I want to give you a drink.”
“Have you ever thought that I’m not being mean? Maybe I just am.”
You glare at her. She looks you up and down. “Sure,” she shrugs, walking away. There’s a vivid picture in your mind of her falling through a hole in the cabin floor. It doesn’t soothe you, but at least the fantasy is there.
The night drones on. You’re sick of the smells and the laughs and the heat. And you’re sick of yourself. You can’t believe, underneath all your sourness, you came here to stare at a boy you barely know, and you don’t even know why. He’s fascinating, and you resent him, and he’s also beautiful. But he’s looked back at you all of three times tonight and you’re sick of the way your skin crawls when he does.
Leaving the cabin brings the relief of the cool night air, and the singularity of your body. You are the only one who feels this rage. You are the only one who hates.
To stave off your discomfort you walk around to the back of the cabin, to the crest of the hill facing the water. The stars above twinkle at you in spite. There’s a bitterness in your throat you want to wash down with something worse (maybe you should have taken that drink), but you know it won’t matter. Nothing matters. Those stars and whatever they hide are apparently the only important things in the universe, so why should anyone care about anything?
They stars only get brighter. It’s probably their goal to piss you off. You grunt, “Oh, fuck you,” to them. It’s not enough, never nearly enough to expel the rotten part of you. “Fuck you. Fuck off!” You groan at the sky. Nothing happens. Until:
“I’m guessing you’re not having a fun night.”
You whirl around. It’s hard to see in the dark, but whatever light is left catches a long scar on a cheek. Your stomach knots.
“Yeah, me neither,” Luke Castellan says, hands in his pockets as he meanders towards you.
Even when he’s close enough, you don’t say anything. If you do, you’re afraid it’ll be something ugly. Like I kind of want to make out with you. Are you awful too? I need a lobotomy.
The thoughts almost make you laugh. Been a long time since you’ve been funny.
He nods at the sky. “Those things don’t talk. You do know that, right?” He’s still so captivating, so self-assured, even when there’s no one around but you.
“Gods, you’re the worst,” you scoff. You really mean it, so you can’t look him in the eye.
“Then why have you been staring at me all night?”
It catches you so off-guard that you whip back to face him. He has an eyebrow raised and the itch of a smile that makes you burn with shame. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
He shrugs, leaning against the cabin wall. “I’m not stupid. You’ve been brooding in the corner watching me the second you came in.” He cocks his head to the side, adding, “Actually, you stare at me all the time. At meals and stuff. I really hope you don’t think you’re being subtle.”
You huff. “Okay, if we’re really being honest here, you started that! You do it too! All the time!”
His hands shot up like he was being arrested. “Hey, I never said I minded it. A guy’s . . . just gotta wonder. What’s up with you spying on me when I’m training alone, anyways?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You watch me when there’s nobody else around. I’m not blind. It’s weird. If you want tips you can just ask me. Or if you like what you’re looking at, at least be upfront about it.”
You speak before you can take in that last sentence, or the way his smile took pride in itself when he said it, or how embarrassed you should probably feel. “You didn’t answer my question about why you started staring at me first.”
The anger (shame) blinding you made you forget how close you are to him right now. Close enough to touch, but not enough to see. But almost there. Almost.
“People think you’re mean,” Luke says after a moment, his dark eyes probing you. The words curl out of his mouth slowly, like he’s choosing them all with care. “You’re rude. You never listen to anyone. You judge everything. They all think you’re awful.” Again, he looks you over. “I’m not so sure.”
“If I’m awful, then you’re awful,” you spit before he can say anything else.
He just shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s why I’m not sure.”
It’s irritating, his calmness. He has the same anger you do. How come he can just . . . shove it down? You try to unearth any fury in his eyes, but it’s too far back. Simmering. “Jesus,” you mutter, “You’re worse than me.”
He looks genuinely taken aback by this. His scar deepens when his brows wrinkle. “What?”
“You’re a pretender—that’s what you are.” It’s your turn now, to step closer, to make his skin crawl. “Look at you. Everyone loves you. You’re this perfect golden boy and you’re sweet and attentive and whatever the fuck but you know it’s one giant lie. At least I’m honest, but you just sit pretty and act like you don’t have that . . . thing that I have. Resentment. Insanity. Whatever you want to call it. We’re the same, but I’m the only one getting shit for it.”
Now, you are close enough to really see him. The patterns on the wood behind him frame the vision of his ever-shifting face. You realize that this, like most things are to Luke Castellan, is a challenge. You also can’t remember the last time you saw him lose one.
But when you play, you play to win.
“You don’t know that,” he dares.
“Oh, I do. You’re rotten, Castellan,” you sneer, index finger jabbed into his chest. You can feel his heartbeat if you concentrate. “And you’re not owning up to it, so you’re also a coward.”
However scathing you look, it isn’t enough. If anything it only makes Luke’s manner more playful. Nothing feels playful anymore. Everything, inside and outside of your mind, feels like constant, exhausting war. Maybe that’s why you don’t slap his hand off you when it wraps around your wrist, keeping it pressed to the middle of his chest. His heartbeat thrums through you.
He tilts his face towards you, grinning, “Then why do you want to kiss me?”
All right. What the fuck. It feels like you’ve been electrocuted.
“What the—what are you talking about?” You blunder, but he knows, of course he knows, because there’s something between the two of you that has been formed and understood by eye contact alone. He can probably read your mind. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’d like to read his just as much.
He cocks his head. “I mean, you did call me pretty,” he teases, and it’s almost endearing. “You’re pretty like this too.” His other hand comes up to your face, and you’re surprised you don’t flinch when his thumb gently smooths the crease in your eyebrows. “Don’t call me a coward, heathen. Then we’ll both be embarrassed.”
The nickname makes you want to fight, but the touch makes you dizzy. “You don’t want to kiss me, Luke,” you say with all the control you have, which, right now, is increasingly sparse.
“You’ve gotta stop telling people what they want,” he muses. The hand on your wrist traces further down your forearm. The one on your face snakes around your hips. “One of your more disagreeable qualities.”
His words fan over you. That fire simmering in his eyes has finally come to the surface.
“One of?” You challenge.
“You let me make out with you and I’ll give you a whole list.”
You snort, hoping it hides the shortness in your breath. “What a charmer you are.”
His lips brush yours. “Well, that’s what makes me so rotten, isn’t it?”
There’s hardly time to unravel if that’s a question or a statement because you grab a fistful of his shirt and he kisses you. Your heart detonates. It is not rotten in the slightest.
His body is warm and firm. You smell the cabin wood and the drink on his breath. It all matters, and none of it does. You’re warm everywhere as he wraps both arms around your back, and the way he kisses is, unfortunately, exactly how you thought he would. Your hands are tentative in his hair. So is your mouth on his. But Luke is so deliberate in the way he kisses that you know he’s thought about this, too. It makes you all the warmer.
His hand takes your jaw and tilts it up. You know your neck is shaky with breath, and you’re pretty sure he’s admiring it. You don’t complain when he presses a kiss to your jaw, then another one, like he’s testing the waters. “You’re so nice like this,” he mutters almost to himself, thumb running across your neck. “If only people could see you.”
“Then they’d see how mean you are too, no?” You huff. “You don’t want that.”
Another kiss to your jaw. “Not yet, sweetheart.”
Whatever feeling is harbouring in your body right now, it’s so fulfilling it almost makes you uncomfortable. You want to reject it. You’re not supposed to want things. Worse, you’re not supposed to get things. Luke starts marking a path down your neck and you are so determined to enjoy this that you’d kiss a fucking baby if someone asked you to. You might as well be a saint.
He bites the pulse point on your neck, sure to leave a mark, and a shudder rips through you. You’re pretty sure the bastard starts laughing. You hit his shoulder in retaliation.
“Easy, heathen,” he reprimands in your ear, and you know he’s still smiling.
“Don’t—don’t call me that.” You hate that you start to smile, too, and that your stomach burgeons with butterflies when he pulls back to look at you.
He touches the corner of your upturned mouth, kiss-bitten and red. His expression is boyish. “Hard to when it makes your face do that,” he goads. “I thought it was impossible for you to smile.”
“Be quiet.” You thread a hand through his camp necklace and bring him closer. You can almost taste his mouth on yours, but he sweeps past you at the last minute.
He gently tugs your earlobe with his teeth and whispers, “Yes ma’am.”
Fuck him. Seriously. You might have to.
It’s a tangle of teeth and hands and smiles kept hidden, as you slip your fingertips beneath his shirt and he does the same, and you’re both angry and greedy and incredibly destructive, but it doesn’t matter yet. Now you’re just teenagers fooling around at the back of a party, and it’s the first good thing either of you have had in a long time. Luke leaves you gasping whenever his mouth hits certain places, maybe too many places, and he teases you accordingly. “So sensitive,” he taunts, pressing his knee between your legs so he can see you squirm. You rake your nails through his scalp and he tilts his head back to groan. It shuts him up for a while.
He bites your neck until you say his name. You trace lines on his stomach till he takes your hand in his own. You’ve been hungry for something your whole life, and you finally have something to sink your teeth into. For better or for worse.
After Hades knows how long, laughter floats out from the front of the cabin. Sounds of feet tripping over each other and muffled goodbyes. You pull away from Luke, chests heaving together. His hair is wild, his shirt crumpled, and he looks entirely satisfied with it. Smug little shit. “Party’s letting out,” you mutter.
“What a damn shame.” His hand rubs your jaw, and it’s too tender a gesture so you angle your head away to peek over the side of the cabin. You barely pay attention to the kids straggling back to their bunks.
“Is now the time you tell me all my horrible qualities?” You ask once you’re ready to look at him again.
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Actually, I came up with more since I said that so I’m pretty sure it’ll take more than one night.” He fakes a wince, “Might have to spread it out for a few days.”
You roll your eyes, “Oh, you ass.”
“I’ll give you one for starters.” You feel like a tornado when he kisses the juncture between your jaw and your neck. “Your hands are too cold.” They’re tucked underneath his shirt right now, pressed against his back. You don’t move them. “And,” he adds, “you’re incredibly crass.”
“Thanks, dipshit.”
“Thank you for proving my point, heathen.”
The commotion at the front gets louder, and you know your time to go undiscovered runs short. “You meet me again tomorrow, and I start telling you the rest?” He raises his brows.
The prospect both repulses and excites you, although perhaps they’re hand-in-hand. You tentatively reach up to trace the scar on his face. A faint, jagged line that holds scripture within it. His eyes flutter shut for a moment. “Even though I’m rotten?” You ask, and there’s an echo of mischief in your voice, too.
He’s got a strange expression when he looks at you. “That’s not true.”
He leans down, angles his head to kiss you. It’s slow, but bitter, and he bites down on your lip until you’re pretty sure there’s blood. “Luke,” you murmur, and he kisses you softer. You lean into him like a hapless, lovesick fool.
After you part, he loosens his grip on you. The bumbling campers have gotten louder. He stares at you, and you see the chasm in his eyes again, brimming with fire. Same as yours. You know you’ll see him tomorrow.
He says, “You’re not rotten. You’re right.”
And damn it, you really do believe him.
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ponderingmoonlight · 26 days
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Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes
omg I love this, let's do it hehe
Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out
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Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader
Word Count: 2,3k
Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...
Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired
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„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.
He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.
You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?
“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.
You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…
It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.
“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.
“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”
It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.
“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”
Little did he know you meant that.
-a week later-
“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”
His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.
“Oh, just work.”
No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.
Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.
You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…
“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“
“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.
Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-
He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.
“Off to bed with you.”
“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.
You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?
Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.
-a few days after-
“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.
You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.
But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.
“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.
“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”
Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.
“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”
With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.
“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.
“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.
“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.
“I’m completely back to normal!”
“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.
“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”
Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.
“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“
“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.
“The combat training with the first year-“
“Done.”
“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”
“Done.”
“Taking care of-“
“Done.”
This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?
“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”
Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.
“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”
“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.
“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”
“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.
“Call her in right now.”
Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.
“And let her leave again in about an hour.”
-an hour later-
“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”
“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.
You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.
But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?
“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.
“Ehm...so…well…”
“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“
“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.
“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.
“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”
“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.
“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”
“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.
“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”
It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…
You open the door with a swift motion.
Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.
The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.
He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.
“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.
Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.
“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.
“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.
But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-
Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…
“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.
You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.
And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…
“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.
You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.
He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.
“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.
“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”
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