i'm irene 𐙚 | 22 | this is my mainblog <3 | she/her
about me:
୨ৎ the anime and fandoms i'm in right now are jjk, bllk, tokyorev, hq, aot, & kny
୨ৎ i usually listen to taylor s., the 1975, lana del rey, the neighbourhood, arctic monkeys & many more!
୨ৎ i have a doggo and his name is lexus :D
୨ৎ i have a bf and he's the best
things i do in my blog:
୨ৎ i write mostly for tokyo revengers and blue lock! (but mainly bllk)
୨ৎ i usually ask for fic recos cause i suck at looking for masterpieces
୨ৎ just random blog posts honestly
Love all the little background interactions at the wedding, them all just happily chatting and messing around with each other ♡ ngl wish we got a few more too
toji x sick!reader
synopsis. you have a migraine and mama bear toji takes over (I love him)
This was not an attractive position to be in. Not in any way you can think of. Face planted into the bed, body stiff and straight, Toji confused and worried.
With work piling on your desk and people speaking to you in different tones of aggressive, work had been more than exhausting. You made it home at 5pm, Toji still caught up in whatever he was doing. A migraine caught up to you faster than you could change out of your clothes, and so, with your blouse unbuttoned and your shoes taken off, you opted for taking away your senses, and shoving your face into the mattress.
Toji makes it home and is in the midst of loosening his collar as he walks into the bedroom, when his eyes are caught on your figure. Toji is not a stranger to you taking naps, he usually joins you. This time, something was clearly off.
"Sweetheart? You asleep?", he asks as he turns on the lamp on your bedside table. Although your face is mostly covered, the light makes it through the gaps— making you want to cry as the headache worsens. In a sloth-like movement, you use your hands to cover your face even more, hence, inciting the worry he's now certainly feeling.
He grimaces at your action and turns off the light, "headache?". Toji knows that the headaches you got every once in a while, were anything but desirable. He notices a slight movement of your head, which indicates a 'yes, toji, im currently dying, so please stop talking', which he's also familiar with.
He takes a seat next to your place on the bed and asks you to roll over slightly, mindful of his gruff voice. You do as he says and his hand —which dwarves over your own— is then placed on the back of your neck. You can feel his stillness as he calculates what's an okay temperature.
You see, Toji's mean, unbelievably so, cruel intentions and an even crueler smile. Not with you. Never with you. It's different, the way he looks at you, the way his eyes soften after coming home, his guard down, and his head light. But even then, he's still learning, what's okay, what's not, when you need him and when you're capable. Right now though, you needed him, desperately. It was either him, or feeling like someone was actively banging metal in your head.
So he decides that the heat coming off of your neck was not normal. He learns, for you. His scarred hand moves over to your forehead as your eyes are screwed shut. As his hand moves to lift off, you decide that's not good enough, so you grab his hand and lower it back on your forehead. It was warm, and surprisingly helping with the migraine.
"Baby, i'll be right back, okay?", he says worriedly. Unaware of why you're gripping his hand so gently against your skin.
You whimper shaking your head. "It hurts."
"Where does it hurt baby?", he seems relieved to hear you talk.
You drag his hand to the right side of your head. "Here", you whisper, sighing as his hand relieves some of the ache.
He brushes his thumb delicately over the same place.
"I'll get you some pain killers, it's definitely a migraine."
You shake your head once more, "just a second", you promise as you keep holding his hand against your head.
"Just a second", he vows with softening eyes. He uses his other hand to cup over your adjacent cheek, brushing your hair out of the way.
When Toji lets go, he leaves the room to grab painkillers, and unbeknownst to you, he also boils water for a heating pad, grabs a mug of steaming water— boiled with lemon and ginger, and he got a ton of water bottles. A ton. He would never admit that he definitely googled all of that.
When he's back, you're back to your position against your pillow, head sinked in, arms surrounding your face.
He places the tray with everything on your bedside table. You turn your head and spot the contents, you squint at him.
"Are you going to drown me?".
Toji chuckles and shushes you, "you need to stay hydrated", is his response
"Mmm", you hum in reply. A sharp pain then shoots behind your eye making you screw your eyes shut and you let out another whimper.
"Sweetheart?", Toji is careful not to touch you, knowing that now, it could make it worse.
The pain fades for a second, and you open your eyes as you feel tears prick in their corners.
"Hey, why are you crying?", Toji's eyebrows furrow in concern. His sentence more of a demand than a question. A pout visible on the creases of his lips.
You don't answer him, only looking for ways to stop the headache, it was excruciating, more so than usual. But you knew it would go away, especially with him here.
And so Toji uses his warm hands, warm tone, and light touch to lull you to sleep after taking the pills, knowing that it was the only way the painkillers were going to work best and how your migraine would go away.
As you're sleeping, Toji sits next to you on guard. It was almost as if everything disappeared, and your frame was the only thing visible in his sight. If anyone asked him, he would probably say you had a halo over your hurting head. To Toji, his senses almost heightened when you were sleeping, he didn't want you hurt, ever. He needed you safe and he hated seeing you vulnerable. His hand hovers over your head, caressing whenever he knew he couldn't wake you. He grabs a warmed cloth and puts it on your forehead, careful not to press too much weight onto your head.
For a big person, he was small in his gestures— soft, and willing.
An hour later, you feel a feather-like touch caressing your nose as you're waking up. Your eyes slowly blink open, looking up at Toji with a drowsy confused expression. He grins at your state, you look incredibly innocent this way.
"Sleeping beauty is up."
You smile in response, letting your eyes blink a few times to shake off the sleepiness. You then notice Toji's hand hovering over your face with...a makeup wipe?
"What're you doing?", you ask and his smile widens at your groggy voice.
"You fell asleep with your makeup on", is his only explanation.
syn: a certain time of year was particularly hard for Toji, and you start to understand why..
cw: angst. grief. mamaguro🥹🕊️
a/n: idk..was in my feels today i guess🫠 relax and enjoy some bittersweetness with me
No one ever flat out told you why one day out of the year was just…different..at the Fushiguro house.
You were pretty perceptive of the change in Toji’s demeanor. The melancholic sheen over his eyes when he’d look at you, barely holding eye contact when you asked him a question and him being dismissive if it had anything to do with how he was acting.
He wasn’t mean or less patient with you or Megumi. He was just..different. He didn't say much. His laughter sounded a tad off, even forced at times. He slept a bit longer, usually blaming it on a recent job or his age, jokingly of course.
He moved around as if he operated on autopilot, unlike the agile and conscientious man you’d learned Toji to be . You’d catch him zoning out alot or being a little more forgetful than usual. Less focused, as if his mind was somewhere far away. Another place. Another time.
One summer morning you noticed a bottle of strawberry soda in the back of the fridge, tucked behind several items as if it were purposely placed there. Hidden. You’d only seen it because Megumi struggled to reach something on the same shelf, so you helped him You'd been meaning to ask Toji since when he even iiked that brand, seeing as how you never saw him or Megs drink it. You didn’t know him to be much of a soda drinker unless it was the occasional Coke on a scalding hot day.
But when you went back the next day to find it, it was gone. When you finally asked him about it, he’d just say he got it for Megs but he never drank it, and it had been in there for a while so he threw it out. That would have been believable if you didn’t find the same bottle hidden a little better in the back of the fridge again that following year around the same time.
“It's for my mom.” Megumi’s raspy voice makes you flinch from where he spooked you on the other side of the door. He was now tall enough to see over it, his lithe form springing up with each passing day it seemed. You blinked at him in surprise, your mouth gaping and in search of a reasonable excuse to be holding the soda that you’d dug out from the depths of the ice box. The chilled glass bottle was clutched against your chest when the spikey-headed boy stepped towards the open fridge to reach around you for a yogurt drink.
"Oh...I wasn't.." you stammered, only for the broody adolescent to interrupt you.
“It's her birthday tomorrow,” Megumi mutters shortly after he peels the cap back a little to take a sip, not saying anything else about the soda before walking away.
You watched him exit the kitchen in silence, an odd sensation tingling in your chest. You never heard Megumi speak of his late mother. Not even when he was smaller. From what you know, Toji's wife passed away shortly after Megumi was born. Something about an underlying heart condition that worsened after giving birth. Megs wasn't even a year old yet, so it made some sense that he didn't speak of her. He probably had no memories of his mother and was always accustomed to it just being him and his dad.
Until now at least...
Your attention returns to the soda, its slow-rising bubbles lining the neck of the glass bottle as you turn it slowly in your hand.
So every year, around his late wife's birthday, Toji bought the same brand of strawberry soda. For her.
Now that you thought of it, there was always this errand he’d always have to run on a certain day every year. Too consumed with life and work, you didn't realize it was on the same day. Every year.
An errand that would take him far out of the city very early in the morning.
You would roll over in the bed groggily, noting Toji sitting on the edge of his side. He’d be leaned over, lacing up his boots, fully dressed and smelling good. You knew sometimes he and Shiu would meet up early to discuss business so you never asked for details when he'd kiss your forehead goodbye.
He always came back to you around noon with a bouquet of sunflowers and red roses though, from a shop way out of the way, with a card that would read the same thing every time.
For you, just because <3
Toji knew you loved them and it made you less curious about his mysterious errand when he came back bearing gifts. In hindsight, you felt stupid and selfish for thinking they were 'just because' flowers now that you knew what this day meant to him.
Especially when you looked up the flower shop and found out it was less than a mile away from a cemetery.
That was why one year, days before he could find time to go to the store, and days after he gave you the heads up on his early morning errand, Toji found the newly bought bottle of strawberry soda in the fridge. You weren't around when he found it, which made the lump in Toji's throat even thicker at the realization.
He never really told you that every July 7th, he would visit a little florist's shop at the edge of a small town an hour away, where the owner would have a special arrangement that Toji ordered every year waiting for him. Preserved lilies and pink roses, a small bag of items from the convenience store across the street, and two glass bottles of soda (one strawberry and one Coke ) rest in his passenger seat for another 3 to 5 minutes as he pulls into the parking space that was always empty.
The morning sun warms his skin on his walk across the grass. Flowers, and plastic bag in tow, Toji steps with purpose on his way to his wife's grave. For a few minutes, he takes his time using the items in the small bag to scrub and rinse any dirt or grime tainting the granite. In the early years, Toji would visit and clean her grave stone frequently. He’d even bring baby Megumi with him since they still lived in the small town. The place where he and his wife made a life together.
But one day, after about 2 years had passed and Megumi became more active, Toji he realized that staying stuck in his grief was causing him to miss out on being mentally present in his child’s life.
And he knew she wouldn’t want that..
So he came alone now, placing the flowers down to replace the ones that had withered away, along with the opened bottle of strawberry soda nestled perfectly in the grass.
Toji squats to sit in front of the grave with his own beverage dangling between his knuckles, popping the cap off with his teeth and leaning forward to clink it gently against his wife's before taking a sip.
He would then spend about an hour or more just sitting there. Usually, he'd talk, not caring about how awkward it felt anymore.
He'd start out by wishing her happy birthday and telling her about how big Megumi is getting. How much he looks like her and all the little quirks he has that remind him of her. How smart and independent he is and how he takes care of his dad just as much as his dad takes care of him. He tells her about how he is doing. About his health and any recent injuries or ailments as a result of his job. He'd leave out what he still did to make money, even though he was sure she already knew. He'd talk about how getting older isn't as scary to him as it used to be, especially when he had someone that made him feel young again.
He'd tell her about how you came into his life and how hesitant he was about allowing you into his heart. Not that he had much of a choice. You just made it that easy. Leading with friendship, fostering a bond that wasn’t driven by lust or uninhibited emotions. Showing up for Megumi when he couldn’t due to work or making sure the both of them were taking proper care of themselves.
It always stuck in his mind how you never let his trauma or baggage scare you away, even if it should have, and how much your presence changed the way he saw love and life after losing someone so precious.
He would express the guilt he felt in loving you and her simultaneously. He didn't understand it. It wasn't as if there was a hierarchy in his heart, ranking one person over the other. He just couldn’t do that when he loved you both im different ways. It was just as if his heart had grown and all that she taught him about love years ago allowed more to pour in, making space for you.
He'd thank her for being his first love and for giving him the greatest gifts he could ever ask for. For teaching him how to love, and in turn, how to be loved as well.
That part of his conversation always got him emotional, and a breeze that didn’t touch anything but him with blow over his tearstained face. Even his hair would be tussled, reminiscent of the way his wife would tease his messy raven tresses in attempt to cheer him up.
Then he would smile, clear his throat and tell her he’d be back this time next year before rising to stand.
On his drive back, he’d glance at the new custom bouquet of sunflowers and red roses now in his passenger, his heart still twinged with a confusing mixture of guilt and relief riddling him. Relief to be leaving that small old town that only reminded him of a life that was now over. The life he thought would last much longer than it did. Every place held a memory that was colored yellow and blue in his mind, stored deep but never forgotten.
His guilt came mostly from the fact that he never could find a way to tell you why the birthday of his late wife was so hard for him and why he just needed to make that yearly trip on his own to visit her.
So one could only imagine the shock Toji felt that following year when he opened his fridge and found his late wife’s favorite soda.
Front and center. Not hidden or tucked away in the back. Unseen and easily forgotten. With a yellow sticky note placed over the label, easy to see and read.
"You have the blessing of parentage. But, even with that blessing, you were both beaten by a monkey like me who can't use cursed techniques. You wanna live a long life, don't forget that."
Toji Fushiguro + Hands
pairings: karasu tabito x gn!reader, otoyo eita x gn!reader, kenyu yukimiya x gn! reader
tags/warnings: reader and karasu are already together, pre-relationship stage in otoya's and kenyu's!
genre: fluff
synopsis: the first time the boys realized that they're in love with you. boys being so giddy lol.
── .✦ karasu tabito
It was just a stupid crush, really.
At least, that’s what Karasu told himself in the beginning. Liking you had been easy. You made things fun, kept him entertained with your quick wit and little quirks. Being with you felt like a game he couldn’t lose, but he didn’t think too much about what it all meant. Love? That was too heavy for something that felt so light.
But then there was that moment.
It wasn’t anything big. Just an ordinary evening in his place. You were on the couch, reading a novel, while some random show played in the background. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with his own phone in hand, pretending to care about whatever it was on the screen.
You sighed, soft and quiet, but enough to pull his attention away. When he glanced up, you weren’t looking at him. Your gaze was distant, you were caught in a thought you weren’t planning to share.
“What’s up?” he asked, his voice casual, not expecting much of an answer.
“Nothing,” you said after a pause, your lips curving into a faint smile. “I just feel lucky, that’s all.”
You didn’t explain, didn’t even look at him for long. Instead, your hand found its way to his dark blue hair, brushing through it in a way that was both careless and comforting. It wasn’t the first time you’d done it, but something about the way you did it this time made his chest feel tight. You were so at ease that being with him was the most natural thing in the world.
He stayed quiet, watching as you went back to your book like you hadn’t just shifted his entire perspective. It wasn’t just what you said—it was how you said it, it wasn’t something you had to think about. Like being grateful for him was as simple as breathing.
He didn’t know what to do with himself. Usually, he’d have some smart remark ready, some way to brush off whatever you were making him feel. But now? He just sat there, staring at you, wondering how he hadn’t seen it before.
He couldn’t pinpoint when the shift had happened. Maybe it was gradual, something that had been building all along. But in that moment, he knew with absolute certainty: this wasn’t just some crush or infatuation. It was deeper than that. You’d become something he didn’t think he needed, something he couldn’t imagine letting go.
Karasu leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. The warmth of your words lingered, settling into places he didn’t even realize had been empty.
Love wasn’t supposed to sneak up on him like this. Somehow, you’d done it anyway.
── .✦ otoya eita
This goofy womanizer doesn’t do love or some shit.
Otoya wasn’t the type to lose sleep over anyone. Flirting came easy, and leaving things just the way they were made it even easier. He knew how to have a good time, how to make someone laugh or blush, but feelings? Commitment? Nah, that wasn’t his thing. Relationships were messy, and Otoya didn’t stick around long enough to get caught in all that.
Or so he thought.
It was late, the kind of night where the city outside his window had shifted to a low hum. You were over, laid across his bed and flipping through a magazine you’d brought with you. He leaned against the headboard, half-listening to you ramble about something you’d found amusing in the pages.
“Look at this,” you said, your voice bright as you held up the magazine. The glossy picture was of some ridiculous piece of clothing—a neon-green sweater with feathers along the sleeves.
“Can you imagine someone actually wearing this?”
Otoya smirked, the corner of his mouth tugging up lazily. “You’d pull it off.”
“Oh, please.” You laughed, the sound light and effortless, but your eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. “You’re just saying that so I won’t roast your fashion choices next.”
“Hey, my style’s flawless, thank you very much,” he shot back, nudging your leg with his foot.
The banter was easy, the kind he thrived on. But he's bothered with the look you gave him, your smile plastered on your lips, the sparkle in your eyes that paused just a moment longer than it should have. That did something to him.
“You’re so full of yourself, Otoya,” you said, shaking your head, but your smile didn’t waver.
“And you love it though,” he retorted, his grin widening.
But as the words hung in the air, he realized how much he wished they were true.
You rolled your eyes and went back to your magazine, oblivious to the way his heart was suddenly pounding harder than it had any right to. He tried to shake it off, but it was no use. His gaze kept drifting back to you—how comfortable you looked.
He didn’t know what was worse: the way you didn’t seem to notice how much of a mess you were making of him, or the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
When you stretched out your arm, holding the magazine over to him, your fingers brushed his for just a second. It wasn’t anything special, just an ordinary moment. But for Otoya, it felt like everything else faded for a heartbeat.
“You okay?” you asked, tilting your head when he didn’t respond right away.
“Yeah,” he said quickly, his voice too casual. “Just tired.”
That night, after you’d left, Otoya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The silence felt too loud, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Heard your laugh. Felt the warmth of your smile.
“Damn it,” he muttered, rolling onto his side.
He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He wasn’t supposed to want someone so badly it hurts. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.
You weren’t just another thrill. You’d become something that had him turning and tossing in bed, wondering how the hell he’d let himself fall this hard.
── .✦ kenyu yukimiya
Kenyu had always been focused. Soccer demanded it, and so did modeling. Juggling both wasn’t easy, but he never complained. He’d chosen this path after all. What he hadn’t chosen or even planned for was you.
At first, he thought your support was just a pure act of kindness. You’d always been there, cheering him on, listening when he talked about the challenges of balancing his passions. But over time, it became clear that you weren’t just being polite. You genuinely cared—about his dreams, his struggles, even the small things he sometimes overlooked himself.
The realization didn’t hit him all at once. It came slowly, building with every little thing you did. Like today.
The two of you were at the mall, your idea after he mentioned needing new clothes for an upcoming shoot. Kenyu wasn’t bad at picking out outfits but you insisted he deserved a second opinion.
“Try this,” you said, holding up a sleek black jacket. “It’s simple but classy. Totally your vibe.”
He took it with a small smile, letting your enthusiasm guide him. You had an eye for these things, and he trusted your judgment more than he cared to admit.
As he stepped out of the fitting room, you were waiting, your expression lighting up when you saw him.
“See? I told you it’d look good,” you said, giving him an approving nod. “The fit’s perfect, and it goes with almost everything.”
He turned to the mirror, studying the way the jacket fit across his shoulders. It was nice, sure, but what stuck with him more was the way you looked at him. You weren’t just proud of the outfit but of him too.
"Didn't know you had such good taste." he said, half-teasing. “Maybe you should be my stylist.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I’d love to, but I think your team would have a thing or two to say about that.”
The two of you wandered through the store for a while longer, you occasionally holding up shirts or accessories, and him silently appreciating the way you paid attention to the smallest details. You truly cared about how he felt in them, about making sure he was confident and comfortable.
At some point, as you stood next to him, you were holding up a scarf and debating its practicality, then it hit him.
This wasn’t just about being a fashion guru or supporting his career. It was about you—your thoughtfulness, your sincerity, and the way you noticed and valued even the smallest things about him.
His chest tightened for a moment that he forgot how to speak.
“Kenyu?” you asked, tilting your head at him. “Is everything alright?”
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Just… thanks for helping me with this.”
“Of course,” you said, brushing it off like it was nothing. But to him, it wasn’t nothing.
After everything had settled, the two of you decided to leave the mall. His thoughts kept circling back to the moment. He couldn’t remember when it had begun, but he knew now that this was more than just appreciation for your support.
He is in love with you.
The realization was unexpected, but it left him feeling lighter, as if he’d discovered something he didn’t know he’d been searching for.
likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!
masterlist
Summary: You make sure that you're the first person to congratulate Toji.
Warnings: Fluff
*happy birthday to the sexiest dilf
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky
“Happy birthday, Toji.” You wake up the man at midnight, kissing all over his face. The man hates to be woken up, but this surely is a nice way to be awoken. Even though this could’ve waited till the morning, he’s glad that you care enough to stay up late solely to congratulate him.
“Thank you, baby.” He answers as you stop, laying your head on his chest. You listen to his ever so fast beating heart, feeling your eyes get heavy at the soothing sound.
“How old are you turning again? Old?” You ask him, making a laugh escape his lips. Yeah, old… He feels like he’s lived a thousand lives at this point. He kisses the top of your head before humming in response. You raise your head and narrow your eyes as you stare at him, “Who are you, and what did you do to my husband?”
“What?” He questions, confused why you even ask the question.
“You’re a grumpy old man when I wake you up, but right now you’re...” You begin before he kisses the top of your head again. He’s happy. Instead of being miserable today, he’s here with you– The day hasn’t even started, yet he knows it’s going to be amazing.
You’re going to make a big deal out of today, and he’ll act annoyed when deep down he’s enjoying it.
“I love you, that’s all.” Toji says, and you feel your face get hot. The man rarely expresses his feelings, so it catches you off guard when he tells you how he feels. Of course you know that he loves you, but it’s odd to hear.
“I love you too, old man.” You peck his lips before laying your head back down on his chest.
“Stop calling me old man. We’re almost the same–” He begins but you shush him. He chuckles again before his hand goes to your arm, caressing you. He’ll sleep well tonight, and every other night.
“I never asked you what kind of cake you’d like.” You say, feeling your eyes shut on their own once again.
“Your cake.” He responds as he holds back a laugh, a response that makes you lightly slap his chest. “Hey! You asked.”
“You can have that in the morning, I was talking about later in the day.” You answer, and he kisses the top of your head once again. “I’m sleepy.”
“You shouldn’t have stayed up.” He tells you, even though he’s grateful. You care enough to stay up and congratulate him, even if it was something that you could’ve done first thing in the morning.
“I wanted to be the first person to congratulate you.” You mutter as you fall asleep. He can’t help but chuckle, his hand running up and down your back.
You’ve interrupted his sleep, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind being woken up, as long as it’s by you.
