reblog this and tag with a food you no longer have access to (closed restaurant, state you moved away from, ex’s mom’s cooking, etc) that will haunt you until your dying day, mine are the spicy chicken sandwich on the employee menu at the fine dining restaurant I was a prep cook at, and the onion bagel from the kosher place down the street from my house when I lived in the city
"--and this is the staffroom," Gojo sing-songed, swinging open the door on your First Day Tour, with you a few steps behind him, "--ah! And that's Nanamin. Say hi, Nanamin!"
A tall, suited blond man looked up from his spot on the sofa as you peered in; at first, he simply nodded to you, disinterested. Then, Gojo spoke again while leading you out.
"--he's not very fun, don't worry-- no sense of humour."
Your final glimpse as the door closed, was of the blond man's irritated scowl.
It was true; Kento clearly didn't make people laugh, for he was either too mean or too subtle to be funny. This was the case, at least, until you. And you had no idea what your laughter did to him.
You had formed an alliance of respect, an easy bond that would have been camaraderie if not for Kento's standoffishness. You felt him hover nearby on joint missions, close enough to lunge to your rescue, but far enough that he could resist your magnetism.
Talking, and surveying the abandoned school, you spoke aloud as you walked down the stairs.
"So perhaps I'll take the East Wing, and you take the We--ergh!"
You reeled back, having walked headfirst into a buckled ceiling. Kento stepped to your aid, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, and lifting your chin to look at your forehead. He huffed, barely a puff of breath through his nose, wiping dust from your forehead before grumbling.
"You'll be alright. Not much in there, anyway."
You burst into laughter, and Kento electrified, absolutely rigid. You patted his chest, still giggling as you walked away, cooing back over your shoulder in a way that utterly melted him.
"So mean."
You soon learned that Nanami Kento was possibly the funniest man at Jujutsu High. Dry and unforgiving in a way that made your brittle colleagues crumble, you found yourself, instead, choking back laughter every time he crippled one with another savage put-down.
When Yuuji arrived late to a mission, Kento stepped over to him and, poe-faced, pulled up his shirtsleeve to show Yuuji his wrist.
"This," Kento hummed, flat, "is a watch. You can buy one at any good supermarket."
When a waiter slopped coffee over Kento's shoulder, Kento dabbed at it to the waiter's frantic, apologetic bowing. Kento raised a placating hand and insisted to the confused waiter.
"It's alright. I never liked this suit anyway."
When you stood at the staffroom window with him, watching a monsoon in companionable silence, Kento murmured over the rim of his mug.
"Lovely day."
He had timed it just-so, and barely concealed his lopsided smirk when you choked on your tea. Shoko walked in, drenched, looking at you and Kento in dismay. You coughed, opening your mouth to speak, but Kento got there first, firing shots.
"Is it raining?"
Shoko scoffed, sputtering, while you buckled against the windowsill.
Kento grabbed a hand towel and an umbrella, heading to the door. As Shoko reached for the towel, Kento pressed the umbrella into her hands instead, his expression flat, but his voice edged with a feral pleasure that made you come undone.
"You'll need this."
Kento's meanness was tempered only by his self-deprecation, and when you took as good as you gave, you felt his icey facade melt away completely, revealing such warmth.
It was no wonder you were drawn to each other, when the only reason neither of you laughed together, was because you were in a constant stand-off for who could remain poe-faced the longest. Kento always won.
Still, you felt the need to break him; you had cracked smiles, or the occasional chuckle out of him, but nothing more. You knew nothing more than the truest irony would do it.
The day came; you arrived, to your usual staffroom rendezvous, covered in blood. Kento paled, abandoning his book to rise immediately and reach you in three long strides.
"--you're hurt-- we'll go to Sho--"
"Kento. Stop. It's not my blood-- it's Gojo's."
Kento did a double-take, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, so you explained.
"Gojo invited himself to teach me about Curses that are 'above my paygrade', so he took me to one. I told him this Curse was clearly more powerful than it looked, and Gojo told me to step back so he could handle it. Said he'd even do it without his Infinity on. So I stepped back."
Kento's nose flared, barely perceptible.
"...and?"
You took a deep breath. "So, Gojo has a broken nose--"
Kento broke down with a wheeze, before bursting into a rich, deep rolling laughter that split the clouds with sun. His hands clasped the windowsill, his eyes crinkled, and his shoulders shook with wicked, throaty mirth.
You felt yourself becoming drunk off him, utterly intoxicated by his laughter. Kento couldn't stop himself, trembling with schadenfreude to the point of indecency.
Finally, sighing and straightening as if exhausted, Kento wiped his eyes with the side of his finger, and smiled at you with sweet adoration. Laughter still threatened to break through as he begged you.
"Would you-- would you like to go out for dinner? With me?"
You paused, your expression pained.
"Ah...no. No, thank you."
Kento froze, his face beginning to fall. You looked down at yourself, and announced, still deadpan.
"It's just-- I'm covered in blood, you see--"
That sent Kento over the edge again.
You remained content throughout the years of your marriage, for Nanami Kento to be viewed by others as boring and humourless. You found yourself jealously greedy of his rare laughter, anyway.
After marriage, you viewed it as the highest badge of honour to make him laugh like that while he was buried inside you.
a cosy night in with peter and on that note, you should sleep. <3 fay
i slept @glowunderthemoon also i miss you gurl 💚 let’s make this a headcanon okay so
⁀➴ tasm!peter x reader ⋆｡˚
peter’s apartment was being rented for no reason.
that was because he was at yours every single night.
neither of you were complaining.
you felt the chill in the air as you stood in front of your locked door, trying to hurry up with the keys while also cursing yourself for wearing a crop top.
the second you flicked on the light, you were surprised to see the small coffee table all set up with popcorn and your favourite snacks.
a scented candle sat in the middle of the table– dark rose.
“movie night?”
if you hadn’t known your boyfriend was spider-man, you would have freaked out.
instead, you hopped on to the couch, snuggled up by his side as the two of you watched some crappy rom-com.
it still made you smile because peter would laugh at all the corny jokes
(and probably save them in his mind to use on you later)
“will you look at the movie and not me?” he would chuckle and you would not, but not budge at all.
“can we watch a psychological thriller next?” you’d ask him.
he would make a face but agree.
he knew he would lose any battle just so you could get your heart’s wishes.
this time around, he would be the one watching your expressions change with every scene.
he would feel your hand clutch his tighter on an intense one and the way you snuggled closer to him.
you’d roll your eyes at him, “will you look at the movie and not me.” you’d chuckle, repeating what he said earlier.
“move in with me.”
“huh-”
“move in with me. we’re practically living together.”
you couldn’t help but smile, the thought of living together making your heart swell.
She has not just been raped and murdered, she was very much tortured and brutalized like Nirbhaya. It is all over the Bengali news. I don't understand why no one is talking about this.
A 2nd year Respiratory Medicine in a well known government medical college in Kolkata, West Bengal, India is found in a semi-naked state and the college/ hospital called it a suicide.
I'm a MBBS student in second year. After reading about her, what crossed my mind is the amount of times she would have felt this fear, before this worst fear of hers eventually materialized.
"A young resident doctor was found dead in the seminar room of her medical college in Kolkata. Initial autopsy report suggests possible rape and murder."
As all are saying,
She wasn't walking the street at odd hours. She wasn't wearing clothes that were provocative. She wasn't loitering in dangerous neighbourhoods.
She was a resident doctor, looking for a place to rest in her own hospital.
She had been on duty and had gone to rest in the early hours of Friday.
The one place which was supposed to guarantee her safety failed her, miserably.
Someone comes, rapes a female pg who is merely resting in a seminar hall because there is no proper place for her to rest, brutalized her and kills her. How did NO one know? The college and police initially call it a suicide. Excuse me? It is also being said that under pressure from local politicians, the Principal and Dean attempted to alter the post-mortem report. Autopsy confirms sexual assault.
What are the actions taken? One man arrested because his behavior seemed "shady". This is clearly not an act of one man. And this was a very well aware of and a well executed criminal act.
Also, all this happening in WB right when the situation of bangladesh is in turmoil and news of Bangladeshi Hindus being killed and tortured, seems wrong, VERY WRONG. Happening right before NEET-PG, as 24 lakh doctors prepare to write an exam on Sunday to be resident doctors, this news has wrapped us all in agony and rage,
What are they working so hard for? Why should they aspire to be in a system that ignores their basic needs? The minimum requirement of a workplace is safety. That should be non-negotiable.
This profession demands extereme hardwork, a lot of mental strength and Physical Assaults, harassment, low paying jobs with odd working hours with intense humiliation. Now its the worst of all seeing a bright mind losing her life in the most disrespectful state of all. This should never happen to any woman.
I'd also like to question why isn't any big media house covering this news, where are all the international news channels all this time.
What are the students in other medical colleges doing? This talks about their own safety and lives. What are the medical students across the world doing? It's time for us to stand for the most basic Human right, safety.
Yesterday when my roommate, an MBBS final year intern was heading for her night posting, I feared and prayed for her to come back safely. Thinking about it, in a few years I will also have night posting, I'll also return from my hospital duties late at night. I'll also have to go through the same fear, and I'll also have to keep praying that my worst fears don't turn into reality. So many female doctors, nursing staffs, other Healthcare workers, other working women, non-working women go through the same fear, probably multiple times a day.
It is a shame to be born in such a disgusting world and society, it is shame to witness such a brutal crime, and it is a shame to live in this fear daily.
Those RAPISTS need to be hunged infront of the whole natio...if needed burned alive. People should fear the idea of raping, more than getting raped.
rich husbands who make their whole life about taking care of you.
oh, that necklace you glanced at while at the mall? now you're there trying several other ones on because "they all look perfect on you."
the dress you looked at through that shop window? bought. plus anything else you even remotely wanted.
that snack you crave almost all the time? he almost buys the whole business for you just to have them as often as you'd like. (in moderation of course!)
rich husbands who don't understand why you want to work, and every time you tell them why they simply say:
"i can provide more than enough for the both of us, but go ahead."
rich husbands the second they see you all stressed and tired from that job, call in and quit for you.
and when you try to get up the next morning to go to said job, he ushers you back to bed, lays you down and tells you to "not worry about that pesky job again."
rich husbands who like to make it known to everyone that you're married to him.
buys you the biggest rock you've ever seen adorned on your finger to propose to you, and makes it his routine to see if you have his ring on. (which you always do.)
indirectly flaunts it to passersby's by holding your hand, occasionally picking your hand up to inspect it, and trying not to crack a smile as he hears women gasp, and whisper, "she's one lucky woman."
rich husbands who tell everyone they know about you, whether that be coworkers, family, or random people, he'll always somehow flip the conversation to being about you.
"oh that? my wife is quite fond of it, yes."
"that reminds me of my wife, she quite likes those things. often calling them "cute.""
fuck it, i never ever do those “reblog for X, this one really works!” posts, but this one doesn’t have any of that BS, this is just straight up wishing us good things; and then the comment doesn’t even say any of that either. Zero claims on this post, all positive vibes
May you end this week feeling ever more certain of a future you’ll love
germansingergirl
2087
janainaart
andulkaphoto
vaporwave
