eatmyscepter

[eatmyscepter]

𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙛 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣

Glenn Rhee x reader

Word count:2890

Warning: nothing

An update after a long time haha, I was busy with my other stories but now I'll take the time to finish this one ;)

It feels almost unreal to enjoy the comfort of a good bed in the midst of all this. The mattress, soft and warm, stands in stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded you just hours ago. It seems even less believable to have finally found a safe place—or at least one that feels like it.

Guilt creeps in as you think of Alice, asleep in the adjoining room. You feel selfish for having left her alone, but you knew you needed a few minutes to yourself—to breathe, to exist without the constant weight of responsibility.

She’ll be fine, you tell yourself silently. You surrounded her with pillows, carefully arranged so she can’t roll over and fall. The door between the two rooms doesn’t close completely—you’ll hear if someone comes in or leaves, you’ll hear her if she cries.

You sigh and turn on the mattress, one hand tucked under your cheek, as the thought creeps in uninvited:

I wonder if Glenn has already found a room.

He’s probably still wandering around out there, maybe a little—or a lot—drunk. The thought brings a faint smile to your lips. You picture him with unsteady steps, dragging his feet through the dimly lit hallways, his shoulders slightly hunched from exhaustion or the weight of whatever he’s had to drink. His usually tense features now softened by alcohol, tinged with a subtle flush across his cheekbones… It’s a strangely endearing image. Funny, even.

You can almost hear the low murmur of his voice—that tone that’s equal parts ironic and protective, the one you know so well. It’s surprising how much comfort the simple memory of someone you trust can bring.

Maybe you should go out and see where you really are, walk the halls slowly and get a better sense of this new refuge. Or maybe just look for a glass of wine for yourself—if there’s any left. The exhaustion is still there, yes, like a lingering shadow in your muscles, but sleep won’t come. And now that silence reigns, a subtle curiosity to explore begins to settle in.

You sit up slowly, letting the blankets slide down your legs. The air in the room is cool, but not uncomfortable. You walk to the door at a steady pace, allowing your steps to adjust to the solid floor beneath you. When you open it, a faint creak sounds, but there’s no movement on the other side. The hallway feels suspended in a limbo between inhabited and abandoned, as if it breathes at a different rhythm than your own.

A corridor stretches out before you, dimly lit by a lone bulb at the far end. No voices. No rush. Just that strange urge to move, to see with your own eyes that, for once, there’s no danger waiting beyond the door.

And maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll find a half-finished bottle… or even Glenn, swaying in the dark with his crooked smile and a glass in hand.

After wandering through a few hallways and opening a couple of doors that led nowhere useful, you find what looks like a small break room. The space is modest, clearly functional: a row of lockers lines one wall, worn but still standing. Across from them, a low cabinet holds a messy stack of mugs, and in the center, a rectangular table with several chairs awkwardly placed around it. One of them still has a lab coat hanging from the back—forgotten, as if its owner might walk in at any moment.

On a countertop against the wall rest an old microwave and a coffee maker that looks like it’s been used recently. The air smells of dust and stale coffee, and for a moment, the image feels strangely familiar.

It looks so much like the hospital break room.

The memory slides in as naturally as you once walked the halls of the emergency department. You were still an intern back then, caught between adrenaline and exhaustion, learning to survive on very little sleep and far too much responsibility. You slept in chairs, ate whatever you could find in vending machines, and celebrated every hot cup of coffee like a personal victory.

And then, without any real warning, things began to change.

At first, it was patients with vague symptoms: high fevers, confusion, inexplicable arrhythmias. Some spoke in delirium; others screamed with a rage they couldn’t seem to control. The usual protocols didn’t work. Nurses whispered among themselves, doctors locked themselves away in meetings that lasted longer each time. Every day brought more ambulances, every night filled more gurneys.

You remembered one night in particular. They had asked you to watch over a man in isolation—one of the first cases to show signs of extreme aggression. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t speak. He only growled, with an empty stare, as if he no longer recognized his own humanity. When they tried to sedate him, he lunged at a nurse, and it took four people to restrain him. You never saw him again, and no one ever explained what happened afterward.

The virus spread quickly, relentlessly. But at the time, you didn’t know that. No one did. You were just another intern, trying not to fall apart, unaware that the world had already begun to collapse.

The hallways emptied quickly. The hospital became a place of quiet, almost clandestine transit. Orders changed daily; protocols became useless. The doctors you once admired began to leave—some out of fear, others because they knew too much.

You never got an official explanation. Only rumors. A virus, they said. Something new, something violent. Something that shouldn’t exist.

And now, here you are. Standing in a break room almost identical to that one, in a strange building, many days—or weeks—later. With the world crumbling behind you, and only the memory of that hospital as your starting point.

You wonder how many others saw what you saw… and if any of them are still alive.

In his arms, curled against his chest, was Alice. Her small body trembled silently, cheeks damp, arms clinging tightly to Glenn’s shirt.

"I was looking for you," he said, his voice low, heavy with relief.

You stepped closer immediately, but Glenn didn’t hand Alice over right away. His eyes met yours for a second longer than usual.

"I was walking through the halls," he explained softly, his tone carefully measured so as not to startle the girl. "And I heard her crying."

The sentence was simple, but it struck you in the chest with the weight of a guilt you hadn’t realized you still carried. Your breath slowed as you instinctively reached out, yearning to cradle her even before you could think of what to say.

You extended your arms gently, and Glenn, without another word, placed Alice in them with the same tenderness he’d held her with. The child’s small body settled against yours as if she’d been waiting for that very moment. She clung tightly to your neck, her tiny face buried in your shoulder.

You stroked her back slowly, whispering words you didn’t remember thinking, only saying—with the instinctive cadence of a mother trying to soothe fear with a love far greater.

You smiled at him with gratitude—a soft, sincere smile, the kind that said more than any words could at that moment.

"Thank you, Glenn," you murmured, barely a whisper, but he nodded as if no more was needed.

Without having to say it, the two of you began walking down the hallway toward the room. Your steps were slow, in sync with his, and he kept a hand behind you in an automatic gesture of protection. Alice had fallen asleep again, lulled by the steady rhythm of your breathing as she remained curled up against your chest.

"Did you take a look around the place?" Glenn asked quietly, as though afraid to disturb the fragile calm of the night.

You nodded, without looking at him.

"A little," you said. "I was in what looked like a break room. There was a lab coat hanging there, an old coffee maker… it reminded me of work. Back at the hospital."

There was a brief pause, as if the memory had reached him too.

"Must’ve been rough," he said finally.

"Yeah… it was," you murmured, eyes fixed ahead. "Seeing patients come in without knowing what was wrong. Watching them get worse, and not being able to do anything. Watching them… change." You swallowed, adjusting Alice’s weight in your arms. "At first, we thought it was some kind of neurological disease. Or maybe a rabies outbreak. But no… it was nothing like that."

Glenn didn’t respond right away—he just let your words drift between your footsteps.

"And this place?" he asked then, turning his head slightly. "Does it feel the same?"

"Not exactly," you admitted, pausing for a moment in front of the room’s door. "But there’s something about this place that doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t know if it’s the silence, or the way the walls seem to listen…" You glanced over your shoulder, back down the hallway, as if something might emerge from the darkness. "But I don’t feel completely safe here. Like something’s… off."

Glenn frowned slightly, scanning the surroundings more carefully, as if your words had triggered a subtle alarm.

"If anything happens," he said firmly, "just knock on the wall. My room’s right next to yours."

You nodded silently.

"Good night, Glenn."

He gave you one last look before walking down the hallway, his steps muffled by the worn carpet. You closed the door gently, Alice’s weight still warm in your arms. And though the unease remained, pulsing somewhere deep inside, for a moment you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought.

"Shhh, come on, Alice…" you whispered gently, leaning over the bed as you tried to soothe the little girl’s furious movements.

"Please, Alice," you pleaded in a murmur, as if she could understand the exhaustion in your voice.

You held her ankle delicately while reaching for a damp cloth with your other hand. Her whimpers didn’t stop—soft but constant growls and erratic squirming threatened to knock you off balance at the edge of the bed. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm, and continued wiping her with slow, careful movements. You’d done this many times, but it never got easier.

You never thought you’d end up like this: cradling a life so small as if it were your own. Caring for her with an urgency that came from the deepest part of you, like an instinct you never imagined you had. You weren’t raised for this. You didn’t prepare to be a mother, never even dreamed of it. You weren’t sure you could even call yourself one—not in the traditional sense of the word. But there you were, protecting this little girl as if her every breath dictated the rhythm of your own. As if losing her would mean losing yourself too.

You wondered, as you ran the cloth over her delicate skin one last time, when exactly you had started to see her this way. When had the need to protect her become more important than your own safety? Maybe it was that first night, when you found her in the middle of the chaos. Or maybe it was more recent—when she cried for you in the silence of an unfamiliar place, and you were the only one who could calm her.

Whenever it happened, the certainty was undeniable: you were no longer alone. Not completely. And every decision you made—every step, every risk, every shelter—now had to be made with her in mind. Her needs. Her life.

You secured the clean diaper firmly, noticing how Alice finally began to give in, exhausted from crying. With patience, you dressed her in a fresh outfit: a t-shirt that was too big, but warm. Then you wrapped her in a blanket, making sure her little arms were well covered.

You walked toward the kitchen, guided by the soft murmur of voices and the faint smell of something cooking. Some were already seated around the round table in the center of the space, sharing a moment of apparent normalcy amid so much uncertainty. T-Dog was by the stove, moving scrambled eggs with patient motions, while Glenn sat in one of the chairs, his head slightly tilted, eyes narrowed from the evident hangover of the previous night.

"Want some?" T-Dog offered, raising the spatula in a welcoming gesture as he served a generous portion onto a steaming plate.

"Later," you replied with a faint smile. "I’ll make Alice’s breakfast first."

You passed by the table and placed a hand on Glenn’s shoulder. He looked up at you, and though his face was pale and a bit weary, he gave you a grin that tried to be a smile.

"Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed," T-Dog joked, turning just enough to approach and gently pinch one of Alice's chubby cheeks, who was resting against your hip.

The little one looked at him with a furrowed brow, scrunching her nose as if unsure whether she should be offended or amused.

"She’s got my character," you commented, letting out a soft laugh as you adjusted her better on your hip.

T-Dog burst out laughing.

"That explains a lot."

"How are you feeling?" you asked quietly, leaning in a bit so only Glenn could hear you.

"Like a truck ran me over," he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with a grimace. "But at least I found a decent room to spend the night... and I don’t have to apologize for falling asleep in clothes."

"A miracle," you teased affectionately, giving him a light tap on the shoulder before turning toward the makeshift pantry in a corner.

It wasn’t long before the others began to arrive, one by one, filling the empty seats around the round table. The soft murmur of voices, the clinking of plates and utensils, and the warm aroma of scrambled eggs created an unexpectedly domestic atmosphere. As if, for a moment, the world were another.

You settled into one of the free chairs and placed Alice gently on your lap. The little one, still a bit grumpy from the diaper change and the abrupt wake-up, didn’t protest too much when you brought the bottle to her lips. She drank eagerly, her eyelids half-lowered, while your hand caressed her back with a slow, comforting rhythm.

Some of the women from the group came closer, heading toward the table or the coffee pot. One of them, Carol, gave you a soft smile before leaning in to brush her fingers lightly over one of Alice's little hands.

"Good morning, beautiful," she murmured softly before continuing on her way.

Another woman gave the baby a playful grimace, but Alice barely glanced away from her bottle, too focused on her breakfast to return the gesture.

The normality in that small corner felt fragile, almost fictional, but necessary. As if everyone understood, without saying it aloud, that holding on to those everyday gestures—a caress, a joke, a shared breakfast—was the only way to keep moving forward without losing themselves completely in the chaos.

[eatmyscepter]

GUIDELINES !

requests are open! please read before submitting anything <3

i will write platonic/romantic relationships, gender neutral/afab!reader, age gaps (both character & reader being over 18), mild smut, character x character

i won’t write heavy smut, noncon, incest/stepcest, any sensitive subject tbh, amab!reader

dni -18 (smut), basic dni criteria, hate to my favs

i do not have to write anything that is requested!

check out what i will write for here!

[eatmyscepter]

WHAT I WILL WRITE FOR !

jjk toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, choso kamo, yuki tsukumo,

resident evil leon kennedy, claire redfield, piers nivans, jake muller

ff7 zack fair, vincent valentine

aot levi ackerman, erwin smith, eren yeager, porco galliard, pieck

twd glenn rhee

you can request other characters from these medias, but it is not guaranteed i will write it !

[eatmyscepter]

𓂃 ໒꒱ TREES AND FLOWERS !

toji fushiguro x fem!reader — ic: ddub1618 on twt!

synopsis: you always thought you’d have room in your heart for only one person, not two. you also never expected the other one to be so small. wc: -1k.

content warnings: fluff, toji being a present father (fawk YOU, gege), hints of navigating unexpected parenthood, megumi is five, age gap (toji is late 20’s, reader is early 20’s), writing is kinda sloppy whoops!

note: uhh hi i hope you guys like this:3 requests are open for the characters on my masterlist ! maybe i’ll make a part 2.. haven’t decided yet. dedicated to @chosoyukisgf !!

— ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ꒰ nav ꒱

mornings have never been your favorite part of the day. the incessant ringing of your alarm, the loud chirping of the morning dove, the way your linen sheets cling to the sweat that lingers on your skin. box fan be damned when you have a 6’2 heater that presses up against you during the night.

but in the past few months, they’ve become bearable.

you feel a sense of purpose as you shuffle into a pair of rabbit slippers, a bigger pair sits adjacent to the ones you’ve just slid into. you stifle the giggle that threatens to breach past your lips at the feeling of a strong forearm trying to lure you back into bed, a voice grumbling something akin to just wanting “five more minutes.”

you turn in his hold, hand smoothing over the hairs that had shifted during his slumber. you bend, chapped lips pressing a soft kiss to the even softer skin of his temple. you promise breakfast will be made in your absence, and that seems to satisfy the man beneath your sheets.

the sound of soft soles slapping against hardwood floors is the only noise to be heard throughout your quiet apartment. a pair of scissors are the first thing you spot as you enter your humble kitchen, lying next to the sink, evidence of last night’s events.

you can easily recall the stool that was placed in front of your counter, and the small, dark-haired boy that sat atop the smooth wood. the older man whispering for him to keep still as you snipped at the wet strands of megumi’s hair.

the young boy had only ever trusted his father to cut his hair, which caused a swell of pride to make a home within your ribcage, liquid salt almost brimming your eyes when the boy had assured you that he trusted you just as much.

a white refrigerator inhabits your small kitchen, clay magnets scattered around, some holding onto art projects megumi had so thoughtfully made for you at school.

you’re very cautious of your movements, choosing to slowly pull the fridge door open rather than swinging it, worried his masterpieces would fall to the floor. not that it would matter, since they seem to hang in your heart as well.

the door blocks the small frame that seems to have made it’s way down the hall in the time you’ve spent rummaging through the fridge. you nearly shriek when you finally close it, a pair of eyes already seeking you out as you calm down.

megumi gives you his morning greeting; a poke to the hip and a ghost of a smile. he treads towards the other side of the counter, opening the pantry, his mind set on what he wants for breakfast.

his eyes wander, scanning through what’s available. in front of your go-to snacks, you’ve made space for a purple box that holds fruit gummies, fruit gummies you and toji had to budget for this week so meg’s could get his usual hot wheels car at the grocery store.

the small boy makes his way to the living room, fruit snacks in hand, and morning cartoons on his mind.

only when he looks back at you do you follow him. as you both sit on your slightly worn couch, you think breakfast can wait. soft hands find the tv remote to turn it on. the low volume of the tv does nothing to quiet your beating heart as megumi scoots an inch closer to you.

in the beginning of your relationship, toji had warned you that his boy wasn’t an affectionate one. you didn’t mind, you understood where he was coming from, never really wanting to be held or touched when you were growing up as well. your wishes were never respected, and you’d be damned if you dare disrespect megumi in the same way.

so whenever he decides to share his affection with you, you gratefully accept it. and as megumi rests his head on your shoulder, you mentally apologize to toji, because breakfast is definitely waiting now.

a smile graces your lips as small hands place a fruit snack in your open palm. you’re too busy chewing the small treat, too busy staring ahead at the tv screen that you don’t hear toji approaching the back of the couch, let alone see his rough palms reaching for your scalps, his fingers ruffling two heads of hair.

and as you watch toji bend over to tickle megumi’s sides, a reasonable punishment for not fessing up a gummy or two, you think you could get used to this. and you will.

[eatmyscepter]

My favorite ship from Jujutsu Kaisen

[eatmyscepter]

Yuki and Choso manga redraw

[eatmyscepter]

He just wanted back scratches, not exactly these ones but still 👀

Still sudying back and I fell in love with this watercolor art style. AU fighter Sukuna next~

[eatmyscepter]

toji going through seasonal changes

[eatmyscepter]

An angel gains wings every time someone writes a Toji x Reader or Gojo x Reader fic featuring baby Megumi being able to have a decent childhood

[eatmyscepter]

please please please, I need a part 2 to your loving dad Toji/ Preschool teacher reader fic💖💖It’s so good😭

"Who's your new teacher?" (Pt. 2)

Synopsis: Toji gets the phone number of Megumi's preschool teacher that he's been crushing on. [Pt. 1 here]

Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, toji being soft and a little shy, mentions of shiu, everyone is happy bc i said so

a/n: sorry that this took a while! also, barely proof-read. sorry for mistakes!

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3:30pm, which means that it’s about time for the children to get picked up from preschool. Until they’re picked up by their parents, they run out any additional energy they have on the playground.

All except one. 

Instead of playing with the other kids, Megumi Fushiguro sits next to you at one of the tables of the playground with his dog plushie occupying the space beside him. He’s quiet, but relaxed and happy as he fills a page in the coloring book you bought for him and only for him. You notice him digging for a green crayon, and you hand one to him. His eyes light up as he accepts it from you. “Thank you,” he says softly. 

You smile at him. “Of course.” Your heart melts when the four year-old returns your smile, then goes back to coloring. Though you enjoyed all of your students, there was no doubt that Megumi was your favorite. According to some of the other teachers, Megumi barely spoke to anyone and always distanced himself. However, he loves being in your presence. He always lets you hold his hand when walking anywhere, or fix his hair,—you still wonder how it’s so spiky—and he talks to you the most. You enjoy his stories about his family, and his love for dogs.

“What are you drawing?” You ask when you notice that he’s drawing on a blank page instead of filling in the lines of the coloring book.

Megumi covers it and pouts slightly. “It’s a surprise. You can’t look until I’m done.” 

“Okay. No problem.” 

“Hi, Gumi! Hi, Ms. [Y/L/N}!” The familiar, happy voice fills your ears, and excitement swirls in your stomach. Tsumiki Fushiguro skips over to the table, putting her backpack down and gently hugging her little brother, careful not to disturb his coloring. Then, she wraps you in a hug, one that you happily receive. “Hello, sweetheart! How was school and soccer practice?” 

“It was fun! We’re going to have a game soon!” 

Your eyes scan the playground. If Tsumiki was here, then that meant that—

“Looking for me?” The low, smooth voice sends a small shiver down your spine.

There he is. 

You turn around and look up at a smirking Toji Fushiguro, who is without a doubt the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, muscular, dark hair with a scar on his lip, charming, and so gentle with his two kids. Behind him was his friend, Shiu Kong, who you had seen a couple of times. He would pick up Megumi if Toji was held up at work. 

“Yeah,” you answer as you release Tsumiki and stand up, mirroring his smile. “I was. How was work?” 

Though you enjoyed the activities of your job, this was your favorite part of the day. Nearly every afternoon for the last month and a half, you would spend some quiet time with Megumi during pick-up time, greet Tsumiki when Toji came, then spend at least twenty minutes talking with him while the kids played. A few of your coworkers picked up on how often you were smiling with him, and lightly teased you for having a crush. At first, you denied it, but when you caught yourself daydreaming about him for the umpteenth time while at work, doing chores at home, or before bed, you finally accepted it. 

“Work was fine,” he answers, then gestures to Megumi. “How’d he do today?” 

“He’s perfect, as always.” 

“Done!” Megumi springs up, then stands in-between you and Toji, raising his arms above his head to show you two the picture he was drawing. 

Toji smiles down at his son. “Aw, that’s sweet, Megs. What is it?” 

You look down to see four happy, smiling figures on the paper, and even though you can tell what they are, you still let Megumi explain them. “This one’s me,” he says as he points to the smaller figure with dark hair and t-shirt with a dog on it. Next is the taller girl beside him. “This is Tsumiki!” He tilts the paper towards his sister, who ‘awws’ in response. Then he smiles up at you as he points to the woman. “This is you, and then right here is Papa.” In the drawing, you’re wearing a brightly colored dress and standing next to Toji.

Toji peers down at what Megumi drew, and asks, “Hey, how come my cheeks are pink?” 

Megumi raises a brow, looking up at him in confusion. “Your cheeks are always pink when you’re around Ms. [Y/L/N],” he says matter-of-factly. 

Toji’s eyes widen, and Shiu turns around, doing his best to stifle his laugh. “That’s not— No, they’re not-” As Toji fumbles around his words, you catch it—the faint dust of pink on his cheeks, almost missed due to the sunlight on his face. 

You don’t point out the small detail that you’re also blushing in Megumi’s drawing. 

Toji’s phone buzzes, and he fishes it out to silence the notification. “Crap. We gotta get going. Megumi has a doctor’s appointment.” 

At that, Megumi whines and clutches your hand. “I don’t wanna go, papa.” 

Your heart squeezes at the utter fear in his eyes, and Toji kneels in front of him. “Megs, I promise, there’s no shots this time. It’s just a little check-up to make sure that you’re healthy.” 

You also kneel down, and the small boy wraps his arms around you. “Don’t wanna go,” he repeats, and he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, “it was scary last time.” 

“Aw, it’s okay, Gumi.” You rub a comforting hand up and down his back, then through his hair. “Your dad wouldn’t lie to you, and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. I understand how you’re feeling, though. Doctors can be pretty scary. How about this? Be brave during your check-up, and I’ll have a nice gift for you tomorrow.” 

Megumi looks up at you, and excitement replaces the fear that was in his eyes before. “A gift? What is it?” 

“You’ll have to see. It’s a surprise,” you say, and you watch as he takes a big breath to calm himself. “Okay.” He hugs you once more, and you see a relieved Toji mouth the words, ‘Thank you’ to you. 

As you help Megumi gather his things, you see Toji whispering to Tsumiki, who looks like she can barely contain her excitement. Once she’s ready, she bounces over to you. “Ms. [Y/L/N]?” 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“Papa wants to ask for your phone number,” then she lowers her voice to a not-so-quiet-whisper. “But he’s too shy. Also, can you come to my soccer game pretty, pretty pleaseeeee?!” 

Toji lets out a loud, mortified gasp. “Tsumiki, you were supposed to mention the soccer game and then the phone number— oh, my god.” He buries his face in his hand, and this time, Shiu Kong can’t hold back his laugh. 

You also laugh, then pat the top of her head. “I’ll come to your game, Tsumiki. I can’t wait to see you play!” 

“Yay!” She cheers, completely ignoring the fact that her father’s about to die of embarrassment. 

You approach Toji, who bashfully rubs the back of his head. “That completely backfired. I’m so sorry. If you don’t want to, I completely understand-” 

“No, I would love to. Yes to Tsumiki’s game, and yes to giving you my phone number.” 

He hands you his phone, watching you as you put in your number and texting yourself so you had his. You hand it back, then he effortlessly scoops up Megumi. “I’ll text you the details later.” 

“Perfect. See you soon.” 

Toji’s eyes soften, and he uses his free hand to push a strand of your hair out of your face. Your heart pounds fast in your chest, and your cheeks heat. “See you soon, doll,” he says.

You nearly stop breathing at the new nickname. As you wave them all goodbye, you let out a slow, blissful sigh. You got his number. Soon, you’ll be going to Tsumiki’s game, then maybe on a date with him, then—

You snap yourself out of it. Don’t think too far ahead. Focus on now. You can freak out about everything else later. 

Right now, you have to get a present for Megumi when he’s done with his doctor’s appointment.

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tags: @sad-darksoul @binnieonabike @byul9158 @sugurubabe @namjooningera @xxkay15xx @eternallyvenus @chosoyukisgf

sorry if I missed anyone! went based off the replies in part one <3

[eatmyscepter]

thinking about chosoyuki on vacation rn. i have this feeling that yuki would be a water baby; she would stay in the ocean (or pool) all day if she could. choso on the other hand seems like the type to prefer staying out of the water. however, yuki always manages to find ways to persuade him to get in with her. she’ll ask him to grab her something while she’s in the pool and as he reaches down to give her whatever she asked for, she’d grab his hand and pull him in. when he comes up for air he has a pout on his lips, but soon cracks a smile.

“what was that for, tsukumo?!” he’d ask.

yuki would shrug, acting like she had no reason. and truly her only reason was to be closer to him. she would doggy paddle over to where choso was floating and wrap her strong arms around his neck and legs around his waist.

now when it came to going out and sightseeing, that would be choso’s strong suit. i don’t think he would enjoy super touristy places, like yuki would, but he would love to go on nature walks and see what natural beauty the place they visited had to offer. choso would also lather up so much sunscreen you could see it lingering on his skin. he would also insist that he put sunscreen on yuki, even to her dismay. she claimed she didn’t need it.

and when they got back to the place they were staying at, choso would plop on the couch with a sigh. yuki would chuckle at that, obviously amused. She would sit down beside him, his arm instinctively resting over her shoulders. She’d lean into his touch, a content sigh escaping her mouth. He would look over to her, a small smile gracing his lips.

“did you have a fun day?” he would wonder aloud, even though he expected the answer to be yes. after all, he did try his hardest to please her.

[eatmyscepter]

chat how do i make my account aesthetic

[eatmyscepter]

Woohoo?🤤🤤

well yes!

[eatmyscepter]

Not a lot, just forever

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader & megumi fushiguro

words: 313 (sorry for it being so short)

tags/warnings: found family, fluff, megumi dealing gojo’s antics, established relationship

summary: megumi warms up to gojo over the years

also on ao3!

Satoru Gojo wasn’t the best fit to raise a kid. He was childish, irresponsible, and quite frankly, still a kid himself.

When he told you he was going to be taking care of the child that inherited the Ten Shadows Technique, you laughed in his face. But as you watched the way his head turned to the side, you quickly realized he was serious.

For a while, Megumi didn’t seem to like Satoru that much. He was kind to him, sure, but he really only spoke to him when he had to. He did take a liking to you though, always by your side when he had the choice. After all, you were the one taking care of him, in his eyes.

You tucked him in at night, reading his favorite stories until he drifted off to sleep. You made him delicious breakfasts, so he could have energy for the day. You took him to school. You picked him up from school. He saw you as his real guardian.

And because of that, you always felt bad for Satoru. You knew, even though he didn’t show it, he was saddened by the favoritism.

Over the years, Satoru got less childish and irresponsible, though he still was. This made Megumi tolerate him a bit more. He was quite grown for his age.

Satoru started tucking in Megumi occasionally, reading him books and stupidly acting it out as Megumi begged him to get you to read to him.

He started making Megumi breakfast. Though, it always came out burnt and not nearly as good as yours.

He started driving Megumi to school, though he always made Megumi late.

He started picking Megumi up from school, embarrassing him when he talked to his teachers, a blush always forming on Megumi’s cheeks.

Even though Satoru wasn’t as perfect of a guardian as you, Megumi cherished him the same.

[eatmyscepter]

sorry for being so inactive.. i promise that part two of the jack russell one-shot will be posted eventually 🫠 im a bit over half way done with it.

[eatmyscepter]

hopefully im gonna get part two for what the hell? out later today! i started writing it about thirty minutes ago. :)

[eatmyscepter]

omg people are actually liking my jack fic?! wtf