୨୧ — Sukuna watched as you tended to the herbs just outside his temple, your movements carrying that same gentleness as always. You hummed softly while working, a melody that seemed to make even the weeds lean towards you. The swell of your stomach was prominent now, a visible reminder of how you had changed everything, and something in him always urged him to be closer to you- a possessiveness that had only grown over the past few months.
He hated it. But above all, he hated the way his curse energy would flow around the surrounding area, like a protective shroud meant solely for you… And he refused to acknowledge how his multiple eyes would track every subtle shift in your expression…
"Sukuna! Look at this one!" your voice held nothing but genuine delight as you held up a particularly vibrant herb.
"Tch. Still wasting your time with these worthless weeds?" he scoffed, but his eyes never left your form. He took notice of the way your fingers carefully caressed the delicate thing and the small smile that tugged at your lips, and it was only then did he realize that your hair had grown a little longer...
"One day," he heard you murmur, your voice carrying in the evening breeze, "you might need these."
The mere suggestion that he, the king of curses, might need such mundane remedies should have enraged him, and to a certain degree it did, but he was so transfixed on your fingers, the same fingers that always dared to trace his black markings, that his retort lacked it’s usual venom.
"Someone like me has no use for such worthless things." the mouth on his stomach grinned, "You are aware of the difference between us, aren't you? Or has that brat inside of you softened that brain of yours?"
His gaze flickered to your stomach, where his child grew stronger each day.
That’s when you turned to him with that damn smile, it was like freshly fallen snow, untouched and pure… And it always awakened two warring instincts within him. The first was to destroy you, to corrupt, and to taint that purity until nothing remained and you were left bloody in his arms… And then there was the second, the newer, more terrifying one that made him want to preserve it at all costs…
"Oh? No use for such worthless things?" you tilted your head playfully, reminding him of that first day in the forest where he met you, "Hmm~ Is that why you still wear my scarf? If you have no use for such worthless things, then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I took it back."
The memory of how you had wrapped it around him had been burned into his memory... like a fucking curse. How you approached him in the forest while bodies lay scattered around him, your eyes full of concern rather than terror. He didn’t know at the time the men he slaughtered were after you- didn’t know that his fun little killing spree would leave him stuck with you like a thorn in a wound.
A thorn he couldn't be bothered with removing...
"You’re bleeding," you had said then, as if he were some ordinary injured traveler. Before he could slice that pretty head of yours clean off, you had already removed your scarf, standing on your tiptoes, tongue sticking out in concentration as you tended to the wound and wrapped it around his neck even though it would heal in moments…
His four arms hung beside him at your audacity, as you dared to care for the King of Curses.
"It’s not much," you had whispered, "but it should help keep the wound clean until it heals" then you had smiled- that same one you wore now.
So lost in the memory, Sukuna hadn’t even noticed you were now standing before him, reaching out towards him with the intent of tugging your scarf free from his body and he reacted. Faster than he should have been and snatched your hand away before you could even graze the fabric.
"Do. Not."
His eyes were narrowed, and his voice was low, a growl that echoed across the temple grounds, but you had become immune to the sound. His other hand unconsciously rose to touch the now worn fabric at his neck, it still carried traces of your scent after all this time.
"Watch yourself, woman. I could still slice that fragile neck of yours. Devour you where you stand. Don't be mistaken, you're not safe just because you're carrying my child."
"Mmhmm," you hummed, entirely unafraid as you leaned into him so that you could place a chaste kiss against his jawline, "Is that why you let me sleep in your bed? Why you allow only i to say your real name... And why you-"
"Be silent." he spat, and yet his grip on your hand loosened, allowing your fingers to slip through his and intertwine, "Insolent creature…" but his other hands were merciful as they settled on your waist.
"If you wanted to kill me, Sukuna, you would have done so a long time ago."
"You think too highly of yourself. You're a means to an end, a tool."
Your smile never wavered for a second, "Is that so? Then I must be a very special tool. I don't believe anyone else would get away with the things I do."
"Foolish little lamb." He let out a low grunt, pressing his forehead to yours in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing, "I will admit," his lips curled into a smirk as he pulled you flush against his body, "you've made the last few months a little less boring. But if I tire of your presence, I won't hesitate to kill you."
"Your foolish woman." You corrected, and with a soft chuckle, you pulled back slightly so that you could cup his face, "And you won’t kill me before the baby is born, right? That would be a shame."
Sukuna scowled, "Don't test me."
"Never." you promised sweetly, but he knew you’d continue to do so regardless.
The King of Curses would never admit it, but the thought of you dead- the thought of anyone daring to harm you or his child was enough to awaken a a whole new kind of bloodlust, unlike anything he had felt in centuries. He would paint the lands red with the blood of any who tried, would hang their entrails from the highest trees as a warning, would burn the world to ash before letting harm come to what was his.
You couldn't explain it but you loved watching your boyfriend suit up before a race. Maybe it was the way Alex did it as if it was second nature to him (which it was). He did it so casually yet the concentration was there. You're usually there with him during race weekends but unfortunately this time around, you got sick.
"This is awful. How am I supposed to watch you get ready now?" You whined, sneezing shortly afterwards.
"I can FaceTime you! It'll feel like you're there." He suggested. Your eyes lit up, thanking whoever came up with the idea of video calling.
"You better call me! Don't forget!" You threatened weakly, Alex nodding in agreement.
"Once it's time I'll call, promise." He said, holding out his pinky for yours to link with for emphasis. You reached up from the bed, linking your pinky with his.
"Good luck today, love you." You said, blowing him a kiss and falling back onto the bed. He caught it and blew one back at you before leaving to head to the track.
You had the race on the TV, barely paying attention to the broadcast when your phone rang. Feeling a sudden burst of energy, you sat up straight and answered the phone with a big grin.
"Ah, there he is!" Alex came into frame, raising his eyebrows with a smile.
"I told you I'm a man of my word. Although, it feels strange getting ready without your eyes burning a whole into my body." He teased playfully. He laughed as you rolled your eyes at him.
"Is it a crime to admire my boyfriend?"
"No but thank goodness you don't have laser vision."
If u want to write a story about a character that’s just you but hotter with a dark twisted backstory and magical powers and a pet falcon or something, I think u should just go ahead and do that. Who’s gonna stop you? The government?? Fuck the police.
anti abortion propaganda that tries to like scare you into feeling guilty by reminding you that the fetus has body parts are so funny. "uwu please don't abort me I have eyes at 4 weeks old 🥺" nice try sucker I don't care if you see it coming
“You need a bath,” Toji huffs when he’s handed baby Megumi. The baby drools, making a worse mess than what he’s already made. He’s covered in mushy peas, mango juice and milk– The baby just about eats anything in his way. In the baby’s defense, he’s just like his father.
“Do that then, while I make dinner,” you answer, and Toji shoots a dirty look in the baby’s way. Megumi shoots a gummy smile in Toji’s direction, almost making the man’s heart melt. Still, he manages to remain stoic. Toji takes him, letting you walk away.
Toji smells the top of the baby’s head, scrunching up his nose. The facial expression remains, when he puts the baby at a distance. Toji looks at Megumi with furrowed brows, and Megumi looks back with a smile.
“You stink, buddy,” Toji says, as if the baby could say something back. Though Megumi does answer in his own way, giggling at his father’s words. Toji tilts his head, perplexed by the reaction. “That’s not funny, buddy.”
Yet another giggle. Toji has not said anything that should incite a reaction like this from Megumi, yet the baby is giggling. Toji doesn’t necessarily think he’s very funny, but it seems that Megumi would beg to differ.
While Toji doesn’t necessarily express himself, he does love to hear the baby’s laugh. Though he’s stinky and desperately needs a bath, Toji still blows a raspberry on the baby's belly, trying to incite more laughter from his baby boy. It works, making Megumi laugh out of his mind.
“You’re giggly today,” Toji comments as Megumi continues to laugh. It's the cutest sound that has graced his ears thus far. Toji fights back on smiling as he stares back at Megumi. Fighting back a smile isn’t usually an issue for Toji, but the little guy sure does make the task hard. “Let’s go bathe you, stinky.”
i was training a young person at work, and she referred to sexual assault as "SA" out loud, and i immediately was like, "no, it's sexual assault, call it what it is," bc idgaf if the algorithm overlords have taught y'all that you should fear direct language, how tf do any of you expect to ever address real issues with any amount of seriousness if you can't even say the words? imagine an advocate looking a sexual assault survivor in the eyes and asking "did he grape you?" it's absolutely fucking absurd, but these young interns and new hires are coming into an environment where we deal with survivors of all different kinds of abuse, and they're coming with the mindset that the words are as bad as the actions, and that makes them shitty at the job and look juvenile af
i HATE self-censorship for a lot of reasons, but being in crisis work makes it even more frustrating. who are you censoring for? like i am being so fr, WHO are you censoring for? have you even thought it through? people who have been raped know that they have been raped. if someone attempts suicide or is grieving someone who did, saying "sewer slide" isn't going to protect them from any of the feelings. a murder victim's family isn't going to feel better bc you said "unalived" instead of murdered. if anything, it's just extremely invalidating and othering. it's saying "what happened to you is so bad that i won't even say the word," which is NOT trauma-informed care. you are not protecting survivors/victims when you self-censor. the ONLY things you protect when you self-censor are the puritanical ideologies that are being encouraged by rich fascists who want your money and obedience
say the fucking words, guys. just say the goddamn words before i go insane!!!
I miss when ads were a single click and then they’re gone. Now every ad has a minimum of three phases where you watch a video, exit the still frame of fake gameplay, and then exit the app download. That doesn’t even touch on the ones that forcibly take you to another app after opening a tab in safari without you ever touching the screen.
I hate advertising. I hate that you can’t do anything without companies jumping down your throat with mostly bullshit ads. I hate that billboards exist. I hate that every company unanimously decided to make their ads longer and longer. I hate that ad blockers try to charge you money and there are in app purchases to remove ads. I hate that my attention has become commodified. I hate that there’s nothing I can do about it.
satoru loves listening to you, especially when your lips are against his. . .
the room is quiet enough that every little sound feels louder than it should— the soft rustle of blankets, and the tiny laugh that escapes you when satoru steals another kiss before you even finish your sentence.
“you know,” you mumble against his lips. “you should really listen to me right now.”
“i’m listening,” he replies, barely pulling away. his lips brush yours with every word. “you said i’m handsome.”
“i definitely didn’t.”
“no? must’ve imagined it.”
you roll your eyes, though he can’t really see it from how close you are. your noses bump together, and he smiles before giving you another slow, lazy kiss.
“you interrupted me again,” you say.
“m’sorry.. keep talking, sweetheart.”
another kiss.
“i’m trying to tell you,” you whisper, your lips still resting against his. “that we need groceries.”
“we’ll figure something out,” he hums thoughtfully, his breath warm against your face.
“i doubt it, you big back.”
“you’re so mean to me.”
you laugh, the sound breaking into another kiss because satoru seems physically incapable of letting more than a few seconds pass without stealing one.
“kissing me until i forget what i was saying?”
“…is it working?” he muses.
you pause. “…maybe.”
“i know you‘re enjoying yourself,” he says softly, brushing his lips over yours again. “you haven‘t pulled away yet.”
“seems like i’ve made questionable life choices.”
he gasps dramatically, though his smile gives him away.
“oh? dating me is questionable?”
“sometimes.”
another kiss.
“when you leave your socks everywhere.”
mwah.
“when you eat all my snacks.”
mwah.
“when you—”
he kisses you longer that time, lingering just enough that you forget where your complaint is going.
“…see?” he murmurs.
“you are so annoying.”
“but?”
“but…” you smile. “you’re very cute.”
his grin is immediate, and he kisses the corner of your mouth
“what do you want for dinner?” you ask.
“hmm…” he pretends to think hard, his forehead resting against yours. “you.”
“oh my god,” you groan. “you’ve been waiting to say that, haven’t you?”
“maybe.” he grins into the next kiss.
“you should be embarrassed.”
“can’t hear your mean remarks when you’re this close.”
your lips meet in soft, absent-minded kisses between tiny conversations about nothing at all. whether the laundry is finished, whether the weather looks nice tomorrow, or how his teaching is going.
“toru—” kiss. “—how am I supposed to—” another kiss. “—focus?”
“why’d you need to?” his smile softens into something quieter, gentler than his usual teasing grin.
