Tumgik
#oops. i'm using that tag i guess
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we need more vivi hurt/comfort in this fandom. #25 prompt (“I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.”) from Artie to Vi if you're up for it? 💛🩵
(hurt/comfort dialogue prompts)
(oof god i'm rusty with these characters. let's get into it)
"I'm fine," she says, for what feels like the millionth time.
"Bullshit," is Arthur's response. "I'm down an arm, Vi, not my fucking eyes. And ho- honestly, I wouldn't- wouldn't even need th-those to tell right now." A hand lands on her shoulder, pushing her down further into the chair for emphasis. "One more try. I'm gonna ask you how you are, and it'd be nice if you c-could answer me honestly."
She shoves him off and stands up, already stalking away, ignoring the shooting pain all up through her side when she does. "God, fuck you. Fuck off. This is so stupid. I don't need,"
And then her vision whites out.
---
She blinks herself fuzzily awake into a world much softer than the one she was just in. She's in bed, she registers, or at least a pile of blankets. The pain is gone, but it also feels like everything else isn't quite online, either. There's a vague clicking noise from somewhere to her right.
"...you hovering all the time," she finishes her thought, although it comes out too mumbly to really deliver.
"j'you say sa- s-something?" The clicking noise stops, and an Arthur appears in her field of view. He looks worried. So, like normal.
"Yeah, uh, what? Why am I in bed?"
Now he just looks exasperated, throwing his hand up in annoyance, which is an improvement at least. "You passed out, stupid! And th-th-then when I freak out, out about it you're all like oh no never mind it's whatever fr- from the fucking floor. 'Why am I in bed.' Dumbass."
She only vaguely remembers that, not that she's going to admit it. Well, okay, question answered. She tries to get up, and Arthur immediately shoves her back into the pillow.
"Hey," she protests.
He makes his usual staccato ch-ch-ch disapproval noise, which she usually thinks is cute when it isn't directed at her. "Nope. I j-just got done bandaging you up, you are not getting up. You, you are st-staying right here."
She tries to wrestle him off, but he's annoyingly persistent and her angle's all off. "Okay, I'm patched up! So it's fine! Let me out!"
Whup, and her hand is flat against the bed, and Arthur's hanging out of his chair to get his arm over her chest and pin her down. "No."
Probably she could flip him. Maybe. He'd hit the wall behind her but not, like, hard. She thinks about it. It's really hard to lift even the non-pinned arm. Maybe she couldn't.
"Stop being stupid," she tells him instead, sounding normal and not at all desperate. "This is nothing."
"It is- v-very much- not nothing."
"This can't be enough to stop me. It isn't! I'm better than this!"
"Get up, th-then!" he challenges.
"I'm not a fucking tranq'd animal!"
He yells wordlessly at her, she shouts back, until they're both panting.
She shoves him again, no real force behind it this time. This is such a waste of fucking time, when he damn well knows they never have enough of it. "I need to get up. You need me out there, you know that."
"Go to hell."
Now tears are welling in her eyes. She's screaming at herself, internally, but for some stupid reason it's not translating into more strength. "We're wasting time, here. I'm ready to go, I can move, I can work. Let me up."
He flops over, into a less aggressive pin, but not actually a less effective one. Their faces are almost touching, which was maybe the idea. "One more try," he says, again.
His damn stubbornness is another thing that she likes more when it isn't being used on her. This is not a fight she is going to win.
"If I fall asleep," she says reluctantly, "and you're not there when I wake up, I'm going to fucking kill you."
That gets a laugh out of him. "M'not going anywhere, Vi."
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uptownhags · 1 month
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I was eating sweet potatoes, salmon, and lettuce 3 times a day for 9 months. And that’s it. You know, sometimes cubed, sometimes in a strip of salmon, but that was it. That was tough.
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imminent-danger-came · 9 months
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WHAT WAS HE GOING TO SAY. WHAT WAS HE GOING TO SAY! WHAT WAS HE-
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Sun Wukong: "Kid—new armor isn't going to cut it! We have to hit Azure with everything we've got! You can't just, ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!"
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MK: "I-"
-
LITERALLY WHAT. WHAT WAS IT. MK HONEY SWEETIE DARLING WHAT WERE YOU GOING TO TELL WUKONG HERE
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hecatesbroom · 29 days
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Young Rose & a chicken (coloured version under the cut)
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(I prefer the sketch so that's why this is under the cut, but I thought I'd add it anyway!)
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greyias · 8 months
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I love you, you big nerd.
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...that buff/blessing lasted for all of five minutes. Seems to go along with her track record so far.
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angels-heap · 9 months
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For no particular reason, I would like to remind y'all about @fuckyeahvanceandfreeman, which is a treasure trove of freemance content dating back to ye olden times (2011).
Come get your food!
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void-kissed · 11 months
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taken life, given soul (Xenoblade Ship Week 2023 Day 1)
Vanea's work in constructing Face Nemesis requires a suitable pilot to house the soul of Lady Meyneth. After finally acquiring a worthy candidate, she is surprised to learn that the chosen Homs still lives after the procedure, and is even more surprised at her willingness to strike up conversation with a supposed enemy. (2311 words)The second part of this writing replaces the Face Nemesis cutscene from the end of Chapter Six.
This is the first meeting between Vanea and my self-insert, Citri! ..Not the most conventional or romantic of first meetings, but here it is in writing nonetheless! Despite being a couple of days late on the finishing, I decided that hopefully this could be fitted to this year's Xenoblade Chronicles ship week, as set up by a friend of mine - I hope that that's alright ^-^
(Anyone is welcome to comment on or reblog my work if they wish, as long as my DNI is respected! Tag list and document transcript are under the readmore.)
Tag list: @dragonsmooch | @hiraya-rbs | @bugsband | @sunlight-ships | @winds-beloved | @goatfaggot | @starlit-selfships | @stargazer-sims | @sharkyaoi | @detective-with-one-arm | @deepsea-loves | @wexlcr | @artificervaldi | @thatslikesometaldude (To be tagged in (or stop being tagged in) what I make, please see this post!)
Document transcript:
The Central Factory that lay within the chest of the Mechonis was where all Homs were taken after their capture, ready to be repurposed in the bodies of the Faced Mechon and used to assault the titan they had once dwelled upon. The recent attack on Colony 9 had provided the Mechon with some valuable resources, even if some of the initial reports were conveying worrying news about a new wielder of the Monado arising. Within the metal walls of the facility, new Mechon soldiers of all kinds were constantly being manufactured, mass-produced Faces among them. All operations were brilliantly orchestrated by the lone man spearheading the charge against the Bionis, who even now was doubtless deep in thought about how best to proceed in his efforts.
However, in an illuminated chamber that sat above the rest of the vast factory, his sister - a similarly-tall Machina woman with long grey hair - was overseeing the automated construction of a vast white-silver figure. Its parts all towered above her, interlaced with golden details and a doubled red diamond on its helmet-like faceplate. Below the mechanical figure lay an additional array of compatible pieces resembling parts of a human body, ready and waiting for a pilot to be fitted into them. Dozens of individual pieces were being put together by fine machinery, each one being subtly tweaked or modified as the woman carefully adjusted the many glowing controls before her, but the overall structure had yet to be properly assembled.
"Lady Vanea." came a sudden voice from the communication system above the woman. "There is a matter which requires your attention."
"What is it?" Vanea responded, addressing the empty chamber with cautious, distracted uncertainty. "I am still trying to resolve the faults in this Face's digits; can the matter not wait until this is resolved?"
The other voice seemed to pause, but only for a moment, before continuing its announcement. "It is about the pilot for the Face you are currently working on. Two potential candidates have been identified by our preliminary systems."
That was enough to catch Vanea's ear, as her eyes widened slightly before she finally turned her head to face the other voice. "..Very well. Please bring them here immediately, then."
A few robotic chirps could be heard, before further machinery began to whir into action - this time at the other end of the chamber, which Vanea had now turned to face with her back to the silver Face's controls. Its parts continued to be constructed without her direction, aside from what should have eventually become its pilot's fingers, given that they still lacked the proper range of movement to be fitted onto such an important Faced Mechon.
After a few moments, an opening appeared in the dark metal floor of the chamber, and the bodies of two young Homs women were lifted up through it, held up by actuators from the factory. Both looked somewhat similar at the first glance, being the same height and appearing of similar age - they both had golden blonde hair (though one wore it in a long dishevelled plait where the other's only fell to just past her shoulders), and as they were each scanned for further information, Vanea could see on the displays that they both had dark green eyes. One had freckles dotting her shoulders and rounded cheeks, and was littered with a number of scrapes and bruises, while the other's skin was clearer and she appeared to have suffered one particularly significant wound that had clawed at her clavicle.
"..What about these Homs has marked them out as worthy vessels?" Vanea asked, before the continued operations of the myriad machines circling each Homs began to output the pertinent results on the floating screens around her in the chamber. Carefully examining the data that had been gathered, Vanea found the answers lying within each girl's scanned memories, snapshots playing from them like a slideshow - the pair clearly shared a long history with not only each other, but also several other inhabitants of their home colony, and one boy with light blonde hair stood out particularly strongly to the Machina.
"..The Heir of the Monado." she said aloud in recognition.  "They were both friends with him, it would seem.."
She pored over the memories closely, trying to glean what information she could about the two Homs' personalities from them. It seemed like somewhat of an invasion of privacy to do this, but it was of the utmost importance that everything was as perfect as it could be for her current project, so such measures had to be taken to ensure the correct compatibility. Finally, after some time, she had made her decision - it was the freckled Homs with the longer hair who would be used for this purpose, due to the piercing injury sustained by the other one potentially making it difficult for the key component to be added correctly. The glimpses of her many days spent pursuing scientific endeavours with the Monado's newest wielder had also caught Vanea's eye more strongly.
"Please take this girl and prepare her for piloting Nemesis." the Machina stated to her assistant machinery, before turning to look over her shoulder at the unfortunate error still blaring from the screens behind her. "..Adjust the current pilot specifications to her body plan, but- try to preserve her original hands, if possible. That may have to be the workaround for the defects in the current digits, non-ideal though it may be.."
She then sighed, and addressed the chosen girl's companion.
"This other one does still hold promise, though.. Perhaps see whether any of our experimental designs might be compatible with her frame - Azure, for example."
As the machinery around her whirred to action once more according to her choices, and each girl was sent to her fate, Vanea took a moment to compose herself, staring up at the pieces of her dream - the central prism of golden metal standing out above all others.
A vessel had finally been found to hold the soul of her people's goddess, and with her divine revival thus at hand, the time had come for the tides of war to shift.
As long as everything in this experiment proceeded as it was meant to, the end to such ceaseless conflict may have finally begun.
What a shame that the Homs' past would be erased in the process..
==========
Enough time had passed for all the preparations to be made. The Homs girl chosen by Vanea now had most of her body replaced by the mechanical components made beforehand, each piece now individually modified to ensure maximum compatibility with her remaining reconfigured immune and nervous systems. The only parts of her left that still appeared biological were her head above the neck and her hands past the wrists, though even they had received artificial upgrades below the surface to better serve as the Faced Mechon's central nerve unit.
This pilot unit was now being lifted into the central cockpit of the much larger silver Mechon, which had now itself been fully assembled. Its spiked and winged structure hovered high above Vanea like an angel, ready and waiting dutifully for its first activation as the final touches were smoothly made to its surfaces.
“Face Nemesis." Vanea began, addressing the construct above her.
"Your frame is complete.  
As is the integration of your pilot."
Some of the assistant Mechon receded, revealing the pilot's unconscious figure sat in place within Nemesis' torso.
"This Homs..  
She holds memories of the Heir of the Monado.  
She appears to have seen him as a friend.  
..I wonder what she would have been like to know.  
But, that is not important here.  
It only means that her body will be an able vessel for you, my Lady.  
All that remains is the soul transfer..”
All other machines departed as the final Mechon descended, carrying the golden metal prism in its grasp. With exactly-calculated precision, the triangular component was fitted onto the chest of the Homs pilot. There was a moment of silence, before familiar red energy started to flow through the body of Face Nemesis; the soul component then started to glow with power, before settling down again as the armoured plating closed over the cockpit chamber.
"..I have fulfilled my duty." Vanea stated, allowing herself to smile as everything finally fell into place.
"You and only you can bring about a new age on Mechonis -
no, the entire world.
My mistress,
Lady Meyneth."
She waited, and then became all too aware of how empty the chambers around her still felt.
"..Lady Meyneth?"
A feminine voice suddenly rang out through Nemesis' speakers, but it was not the kind and caring tone that the Machina so fondly recalled, even all these centuries since she had last heard it directly.
"Ah.. Where.. W-Where am I..?"
Vanea's own voice caught in her throat from hearing such an unexpected response, and her brow furrowed. "You.. Are you Lady Meyneth?"
"What?" came the other voice, sounding weary and confused from inside the Faced Mechon. "No, my name is Citri. Um.. What *is* all of this..?"
At that moment, all Vanea could do was blink. She had never spoken with a Face pilot directly before, and the concern rising inside of her about what she had done wrong was making it all but impossible for her to properly address the anomaly.
"Something has gone wrong with the soul transfer.." she mumbled to herself, beginning to anxiously flit between the different screens and keyboards in her vicinity. "Yet, the scans themselves seem to be indicating that everything is properly in place.. Her presence is clearly *detectable*, and yet the central core is not showing signs of *activity*-"
A sense of panic flared within her, and her ability to maintain a composed exterior was rapidly deteriorating.
"My dearest goddess, what have I done wrong..?"
As she stifled a sob, the sound of mechanical joints moving rang out through the chamber, before they stopped (having been moved in error) and the torso plating opened back up instead.
"Um.. When you say "central core", do you mean this part?"
A tiny *tap-tap* noise, much quieter than any type of metal hitting metal could produce, prompted Vanea to lift her gaze. The Homs girl - *Citri*, as she had called herself - was tapping her still-organic fingernail on the prism of golden metal that was fitted to the chest of her new body.
"..Yes, that is correct." Vanea admitted, blinking uncertainly again.
"It.. feels as though something is inside of it." she then tried to explain, tilting her head as much as the cockpit would allow her to. "Some*one*, rather, if.. what you were saying before about your goddess is true. But.. I'm not sure whether she can wake up yet?"
The Machina took a moment to consider Citri's words. "That would be unfortunate, but.. it is reassuring to know that you are able to sense her presence."
Citri gave a small nod, very tentatively, but her expression was uncertain.
"..What was supposed to have happened?" she then asked.
"That Lady Meyneth's soul would be swiftly transferred into your body, overwriting your own, for her subsequent use as a vessel to pilot Face Nemesis." Vanea stated matter-of-factly. Then she stopped.
"..That was rather callous of me, wasn't it?"
"Somewhat, yes." admitted Citri, who would have mustered a smile if not for how disoriented she still felt. "But if nothing else, you definitely answered me clearly with how you said it, so.. thank you."
An awkward silence then settled in between the two.
"..Could you possibly tell me more about what's happened? What you've done to me, and all?"
The genuine nature of such a question, and the absolute lack of malice that she had expected to permeate through any Homs unwillingly stolen by Mechon, made it impossible for Vanea to simply dismiss the girl's curiosity. Something softened in her expression, and she opened her mouth to try and form an explanation, but the same voice from before piped up through the communication systems as she did so.
"Lady Vanea." it called out. "Master Egil wishes to see you."
This made her pause with some uncertainty. "Understood. Tell him I will see him.. momentarily." she then settled on.
"Acknowledged."
The device whirred away as Vanea's gaze fell back onto Citri, her red eyes meeting her green ones for a moment before neither felt able to hold the gaze further.
"..I apologise for this interruption, but- you may have my word that I shall return to these chambers once I have finished meeting with my brother." she then said. "It may well be that Lady Meyneth has properly awakened by that time, but if not, then.. If you would listen to our story, then I see no harm in sharing it with you."
"I understand." replied Citri. "That means a lot, Vanea."
She smiled at the mention of her name. "You miss little, I see. Very well then. I shall return shortly, Citri."
With nothing more to say for the moment, she then left her alone within Face Nemesis.
Only *after* she had turned to leave the chamber did Vanea realise her own instinctive use of the girl's own name, and she was surprised to have found herself recalling it from one mention. Nevertheless, she persisted in her next objective, doing her utmost to regain her usual composure even as she silently came to the conclusion that it was a name she wished to remember, despite part of her also knowing it was not a name she should have ever had a chance to learn.
Thankfully for both, there would still be many opportunities in the days that followed to converse, and to learn, and to get to know each other more than either could have envisioned beforehand.
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a-lonely-dunedain · 8 months
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39 for ethedis?
39 Avoiding a conversation.
Isengard sure is the Situation that keeps on Situation-ing huh! even long after your characters have left and are Safe. (: Ethedis has decided that, no she would rather not process her trauma tonight, thank you very much.
She didn’t like to talk about it, about Isengard. 
None of them did, understandably, but her case was for slightly different reasons. 
It wasn’t because she had endured torments any more terrible, quite the opposite in fact, and that was the problem. Between Tossir and Lothrandir’s efforts to draw the ire of their captors –in true ranger fashion– Ethedis had gotten off lightly, compared to them at least. 
Which wasn’t saying much all things considered, but it was enough for some part of her deep down to think she had no right to complain. She didn’t have it as bad as them after all, it wouldn’t be worth troubling anyone over. It would be more selfish than anything.
Her friends’ concern was better spent elsewhere, she thought, though she still flinched when someone moved a little too quickly around her. It’s not worth the worry, she thinks, even as her mind still wanders to dark rooms and laughing uruks when she walks past a smithy and sees the red-hot iron and feels the heat of the forge.
But now, after the end of the war, she found that Corunir’s worry, once pulled in a million different directions, had precious little else to focus on besides a single point named ‘Ethedis’
Somehow, that just made her feel worse.
Corunir could tell plainly that her heart was troubled despite the end of the war, but always she would dismiss it as something mundane. Just being tired or something like that. She could tell he wasn’t buying it, but she still didn’t wish to tell him about it. The last thing he needs is to be burdened with such things, she thinks, as if her wellbeing is a burden.
Now she wanders aimlessly through the gardens of the upper city, stolen from their bed at some unholy hour by dreams she would rather not recall.
“Ethedis, are you feeling alright—?” Corunir almost startles her.
“Of course, never better!” She replies a little too quickly to be convincing, smile a little too wide to be genuine.
“I see…” the concern is evident on his face, guilt writhes in her stomach. “Just wondering why you happen to be up at such an odd hour then”
“I merely wished to enjoy the fresh night air” she assures cheerfully. It wasn’t really a lie, she found the starlight and cricket songs soothed her anxious mind, a little bit at least. But she had neglected to mention that part, even though she knew it’s what Corunir’s question was really getting at.
“Well, care if I join you then?” he moves to walk beside her.
“Oh, don’t let me keep you up-”
“Please, I insist” she’s not getting out of it that easily “I wouldn’t want to return to bed without you anyway.”
“…sorry to have woken you.” She wishes she hadn’t made so much noise fumbling around their room for her robe before she left.
“Think nothing of it. If I valued sleep over your wellbeing I would not be out here.” he says plainly.
“My wellbeing? I assure you everything is fine.” She insists. Lies, actually.
They stop near one of the fountains, its gentle music filling the silence as Corunir searches for the right words.
“If I may be so bold…” he eventually says “I think I have known you long enough to tell a genuine smile from one that is forced. And I have seen more of the former and less of the latter as of late. Something is troubling you, isn’t it?” His tone is gentle and not at all accusatory, yet somehow Ethedis still feels cornered.
Just her, Corunir, and the Mûmakil in the room she would rather not address.
“…is it that obvious?” she asks a little sheepishly
“Maybe not to everyone, but I’ve… developed an eye for such things, you might say. Is it one of your wounds again? We may want to have a healer take a look-”
She shakes her head “No no, it isn’t that. The healers have tended to them well, I hardly feel them anymore, and when I do it is quite manageable.” Almost a lie, technically the truth. It was indeed old wounds bothering her, but not of the physical sort and not from the Morannon.
“I’m just… worried about Tossdir, that’s all.” There was plenty of truth in that statement, though not the whole of it. It seemed enough to convince Corunir at least, and he gives her an understanding nod with a thoughtful hum. 
Tossdir wasn’t in the city anymore, as he had escaped serious injury in the Morannon and grew restless knowing some foes may still lurk in the corners of Dagorlad and Ithilien. As far as Ethedis and Corunir knew, he was still there with Faeron, helping the Rangers of Ithilien rout out what scattered foes lingered in their lands.
“I’m worried too, but it will do him no good for us to lose sleep over it. He’s not out there alone after all, he will have plenty of capable friends there to watch out for him.” He puts a comforting arm around her shoulder, Ethedis just breathes a small sigh of relief for the fact that he’s no longer asking well-intentioned questions she doesn't know how to answer. She leans into him a little bit. “And besides, it’s not as if he’s actually gone to Mordor. Just… a little too close to it for comfort.” He seemed to be speaking to reassure himself just as much as Ethedis. “But he will be fine, I am sure of it.”
“Hmm, you’re probably right...” Ethedis just stands there under his arm for a little bit, wishing she felt brave enough to be honest with him.
But what good would it do either of them if he knew? some part of her thought it might feel better to talk about it, but was it worth it? Worth burdening Corunir with the memories that tormented her so? the beatings and the fire and the torture- No, no it wasn't worth it. She should keep that to herself, she survived it after all, she will be fine. She has to be.
"Well! we should probably head back now." she announces rather abruptly before pulling away. Corunir looks a little taken aback, but follows her back to the guest-house.
"Of course... just, if there's anything else-" "I will tell you, don't worry."
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iguessitsjustme · 2 months
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I have regrets
#do not go into the mdl comment section#i should know better and yet#i have seen some truly horrifying things this night#and i know it's for a show that i am not a fan of#but my concerns are about how casually racist and lowkey homophobic some of the comments are#without any self awareness about it at all#saw someone say that the writing sucks but that's fine because you can't expect good writing out of thailand because it's a small market#and i'm just like pARDON me??? there is AMAZING writing coming out of thailand#just because you watch shit shows doesn't mean they're all shit what in the absolute shit is that?#if i was feeling feistier i would call them out on it#but i used up all of my fight earlier at work because [redacted] department sucks and i hope they get told off#for screwing over me and my coworker who doesn't seem as annoyed as i am but now i have no energy#but that's some shit to just casually say you won't ever expect good writing out of thailand#when uwma and bed friend and triage and 1000 stars and so many more exist#and that's just bl so what the fuck are you going to write off an ENTIRE country saying they can't write? absolutely the fuck not#i hope that person stubs their toe and then right when it starts to feel a bit better they stub it again#i hope their pens always have barely any ink so they have to struggle to write anything#i hope they never get to have wonderfully delicious thai food ever again#and they can only ever eat midwestern casseroles that are more jello than anything else#oh these tags are long oops i guess i'll end my rant here
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julesnichols · 10 months
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Attempting to queue a text to send when it is not 1:30 AM versus my messaging app being a fucking dick and just sending it <<<<<
#about me#praying the person has their phone on dnd and they won't see it till morning#if they do not respond by the time i'm at least half alive i will send a followup#and just lie like yeah haha it was 9 pm when i thought to text again so i queued it for around 1:30 tomorrow but guess. i didn't check that#it was pm and not am :') sorry about that will make sure to pay more attention#bc like. it's someone where they're offering to help me job search#so i am Trying to appear at least semi normal and be respectful etc etc#anyways fuck my messaging app and fuck whoever decided not being able to take texts back was a good idea#these tags are a cry for help btw if anyone has better suggestions. i just feel like#it comes off better if it seems like an oops i was a lil careless and didn't check the timing thing versus#a well i tried to queue this to appear normal and be respectful however my phone fucked up and just sent it thing#ugh idk anyways#i've been out of work a fucking year and i'm desperate so i cannot#afford to be unprofessional in any way :')#not when i've already hit so many networking deadends bc the job market's in shambles#it's going GREAT lmao#every day i get closer and closer to using my state's services to get disabled ppl a job#however there are two reasons i have not#reason one is they dropped me after hs bc they disagreed with me deciding to go to college#which fuck them it was my choice#reason two being they mostly place shit dead end retail jobs#and while i genuinely do like retail#my body physically cannot handle it anymore#however bc nobody will diagnose what is wrong with me/my legs#i cannot get an accom to sit#so y'know. going great!!!
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slashpaws · 1 year
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if i don't play the glitched attraction right now i will die
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neverendingford · 2 months
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#tag talk#watched “it follows” and I shouldn't have. didn't know it was horror going in but after a few minutes I did and I should have stopped#I'm apparently still not 100% past self-terrifying as a form of self harm. I knew I shouldn't have and I kept watching anyway#you know. most people don't know what terror is. they know fear. they know worry. they know anxiety.#terror is something different. I wish I could describe it but you really only know it when you have felt it.#that freezing up of your body. I guess some people get terror in different ways though. I freeze. others fight or flight. I just freeze.#that sense of helpless anticipation as you experience the certainty that the object of your terror is approaching. inevitably.#why fight it? you fucking can't. no matter what you do it'll always get you. it's stronger. more powerful.#hmmm. csa moment oops. I am tempted to make a joke here but I don't want to deflect from my issues.#I have trauma and I wish I didn't. I have hurt that I don't even consciously remember but my body does.#I do not have emotional trauma in the way that people have survivors guilt and feeling like it was their fault. any of those surface emotion#not calling it shallow. but like. it's like when you don't look at the needle and you don't even notice the skin prick but you feel it#you feel it hit your vein and you feel that deep body response that Something Is Not Right.#like when I got my wisdom teeth pulled and I elected to not go under for it so I was numbed but conscious for it.#part way through my body started uncontrollably shaking (well. sort of controlled. I'm good at that).#I didn't feel the pain. I wasn't afraid. but my body was feeling objective physical trauma and I had the response anyway.#I don't remember really. I don't have the surface level pain responses to the trauma.#but deep down my body knows something is wrong and I can't stop my bones from shaking even though I don't feel the pain.#hmmm. I should talk to my next therapist about this.#Lear chased off our last therapist when I was having my dissociative week after watching The Hunt.#which. tbh good riddance she was not equipped to handle us in the slightest. and we're talking to our friend/gf(?) again which is really nic#she and Lear had a few solid conversations too. which was funky cause before he snapped he didn't want anything to do with her#but we kinda had a moment where he realized he's just as fucked up as I am just differently.#anyone reading these tag talks might remember so I won't go over it again.#anyway. I'm not sleeping tonight. I think I should start taking the full pill instead of just the half. but it's just suppressing symptoms#I'm acting up because of my inner state. or maybe my inner state is tumultuous because of my outer condition? idfk#either way I'm suffering over here#not a sui risk but damn#I'm gonna finish patching the pair of pants I've been not working on for the past months
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euargh · 1 year
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note to self: finally cut your hair and chemically straighten it soon. it's getting too long and easily gets greasy/itchy. i look like a deranged rat and showered. just dreading the burns I get when I chemically straighten my hair lmao
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daisynik7 · 7 months
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Teach Me, Senpai!
Pairing: Ino x f!reader x Nanami
Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.6k
cw: smut - threesome, spit-roast, PIV sex (doggy style), blow job, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, Nanami is sorta a perv oops, Ino calls Nanami senpai, a hint of a breeding kink, use of pet names, everyone is an adult here in case that doesn’t come across clearly
Summary: Takuma Ino is your silly, golden retriever boyfriend who brings you along to meet his mentor, Nanami Kento. You’ve heard a lot about him, mostly because your boyfriend constantly praises him for being so amazing. You underestimate how close their relationship is until Ino starts asking his "senpai" for pointers on how to spice things up in the bedroom. What better way to learn than to demonstrate, right?
Author’s Note: I'm currently in heat, can you blame me? I tried my best to edit and proofread, sorry if there are any glaring grammar mistakes or typos, please ignore! Tagging @todorosie @crazychaoticizzy @gojoloves @brightnessemma @batafuraikisu (I know you didn't ask, but I'm tagging you anyways bc ily and I think you'd like this lol). I'm sorry if I missed any tags, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciate, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.
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“You’re going to love him, I swear!” Ino insists, dragging you down the hallway of the office building, past empty cubicles. It’s past five and all the employees are out for the remainder of the day. 
“I just don’t see why I have to meet him,” you argue, following him reluctantly.
“Because he’s important to me! He’s my mentor, my senpai! I have the highest respect for him, and I think it’s cool for you to finally put a face to a name. Aren’t you curious about the guy I’m always talking about?”
“Not really,” you answer, rolling your eyes. Honestly, you’ve grown sick of hearing your boyfriend gush so much about this Nanami fellow. You’re starting to feel jealous about how highly he thinks of this other man. “Why are we even here? This seems like a very random meeting spot.”
“We debrief here sometimes after our missions. He used to be a salary man, so I guess they still let him use the office.” They arrive at a closed door at the end of the hall. Ino knocks twice, a bright smile on his face, a little too excited for this.
A well-built blonde man answers, donning a blue dress shirt and spotted tie. You immediately notice how large his hands are, clenched to the door frame, staring at you from behind steampunk glasses. “Hello.”
“Nanami! Hey! This is my girlfriend, the one I’ve been telling you about.” You introduce yourself to him with a handshake, confirming that they are indeed very big compared to yours. You feel guilty noticing something that can be misconstrued as inappropriate, even lewd in most cases, so you quickly let the thought fade, stepping inside the room. 
It’s a normal looking office, quite barren, except for the few papers stacked on the desk and a map posted on one of the walls. There’s a single chair facing the table, so you take that as Ino stands beside you, arm around your shoulders. “Thanks for letting us stop by. I really wanted to introduce you two to each other.”
Nanami nods curtly, leaning on the edge of the desk in front of you. Your eyes almost drift toward his crotch, curious about his size, but you resist the temptation, ashamed of yourself for even imagining something so completely wrong, especially with your boyfriend right next to you. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something,” he says, focusing on Ino. He removes his glasses, tucking them in his breast pocket.
“Ah, right! Well, I’m a little shy to ask, especially since I haven’t mentioned it to her yet…” Ino scratches his nape nervously, tugging his beanie to cover his reddening ears.
You look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”
He bites his lip, choosing his words carefully before speaking. “Well, you know how you and I have been…you know, having some trouble in the bedroom?”
At that, you immediately freeze, gaping at him, shocked. A strangled noise comes out of Nanami’s throat, equally jarred.
Ino continues. “I want to get some advice from someone I really trust, like Nanami.” He glances between you, waiting for a response, an uneasy grin on his face. 
You’re stunned, heat surrounding your entire body now, mortified that your boyfriend would casually bring this up without any warning whatsoever. It’s no secret to either of you that your sex life has gotten a bit lackluster recently. Besides missionary and the occasional blowjob, there isn’t much else that you’ve tried in the bedroom. Neither of you are that experienced to begin with, and you both lack the confidence to initiate something different, something new. It’s a matter that you’ve been meaning to resolve privately. Or so you thought. 
No one speaks for what feels like an eternity. You’re tempted to grab your boyfriend and haul ass out of there, hoping this entire conversation can be forgotten or played up to be some kind of cruel, sick joke. However, you remain seated, curiously anticipating Nanami’s response. After all, you haven’t flat-out refused yet, and neither has he. 
Nanami clears his throat. “What kind of advice do you need?” You’re surprised that he’s even entertaining the idea. 
“I just want a few tips on how to spice things up,” Ino answers. “Make it more enjoyable for her.” He puts his arm around you again, squeezing your shoulder. You don’t know whether to punch him or kiss him; the arousal growing between your legs says the latter. The thought of another man who’s practically a stranger instructing your eager boyfriend on how to pleasure you is titillating and definitely something different, something new. You won’t deny it: you’re intrigued. 
Nanami crosses his arms over his chest, avoiding either of your gazes, focused on the floor instead. “I will help, if you both consent to it.”
Ino turns to you with puppy dog eyes. “Babe, you cool with this?”
Too invested now to refuse, you reply, “Sure.”
Your boyfriend lets out a sigh of relief, the tension relaxing in the air surrounding you. “Sweet. Me too.” He looks at Nanami, a bright smile on his face now, clearly thrilled about this. “What’s first, senpai?”
Nanami clears his throat again, standing up straight, taking a step towards you. “Well, foreplay is always a good place to start.”
Ino sticks his finger up. “Right! Foreplay. Uh, do you have a pen and paper so I can take notes…?”
“You don’t seriously need to take notes on foreplay, do you?” he snaps. “It’s as simple as kissing and touching on all the right spots.”
“What spots are those?” 
“It’s probably better if you ask her.” Nanami points to you, making direct eye contact. “Where do you like to be touched?”
You swallow hard, timid from being put on the spot like this. “Just the normal places.”
“The two of you have to communicate better if this is ever going to work out,” he says, a hint of impatience in his tone. “Show him.”
Committing to this fully now, you stand up, grab Ino’s hand and brush it against your lips. “I like it when you kiss me. And when you touch my lips.” 
He smiles at you. “That’s good.”
“You can also put your fingers in my mouth every once in a while. If you want,” you suggest, licking the tip of his middle finger. 
He smirks. “Yeah. I definitely want that, too.”
“Sometimes, it’s better to learn by doing it,” Nanami interjects, watching the two of you carefully. 
You gaze at Ino’s lips, then into his eyes, nodding. He leans in, kissing you slowly. He’s always been a good kisser, a great one, actually. The problem is that he’s too gentle with you. 
“Kiss her neck,” Nanami orders, arms at his sides now, hands clenched into tight fists. 
Ino follows, trailing down your chin until he’s at your neck, sucking on your skin. 
“Put your fingers in her mouth. She said she likes that, right?”
Ino hums, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb before pushing it in. You surround him, using your grip to pump him in and out of you. His other hand drifts to your waist, teasing the elastic of your pants.
“Are you getting wet, sweetheart?” Nanami’s voice is low and sultry; the use of the pet name has you unraveling much quicker than you expect. Without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes,” pushing his fingers deeper down your throat. 
“Fuck, baby,” Ino moans, hot on your ear. “Where else do you want to be touched?”
You pull him out, swallowing your thick saliva, placing his hand between your legs. “Touch me here.”
Ino, eyes glossy with lust, slowly shimmies your pants down your legs, revealing your soaked panties. “Oh shit, you really are wet, fuck.”
“Eat her out,” Nanami demands. There’s a desperate gruffness in his voice that’s undeniable now, and one glance is all it takes for you to realize that he’s hard, an impressive bulge strained in his slacks. He shoves all his belongings off the desk, making room for you. “Here. Do it here.”
Ino curses under his breath, cock stiff in his sweats, leading you to the table, where you sit at the edge, spreading your thighs open for him. He slips your panties off, licking his lips before diving into your arousal, tongue pressed firmly on your clit. “Fuck,” you moan, squirming from the sensation. 
Nanami walks to the other side, near your head, staring at Ino’s face buried in your pussy. Instinctually, you reach for him, pulling him by the belt, tongue hanging out. His eyes flit to yours, surprised when you say, “Touch me, senpai.”
Ino moans into you, clearly turned on by it. Obliging, Nanami hoists your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra, which he hastily unhooks to bare your chest. Bending towards you, he wraps his lips around one breast, suckling at your teat, his hand working the other nipple, pinched between his fingers. You’re close to your climax; you just need a little bit more. As if he can read your mind, Nanami releases you with a pop, saying, “Suck on her clit until she comes. Fuck her with your fingers at the same time.” His sudden vulgarity spurs you on, grinding your hips against your boyfriend’s face, pulling Nanami back to your tits.
Ino muffles, puckering his lips around you, sliding his middle finger inside you. You throw your head back on the desk, ecstasy rippling through your entire being, knees shaking with sensitivity. 
“Yeah, she likes that,” Nanami purrs, flicking his tongue on your peaked nipples. “Put another in. One at a time, until she’s full.”
Ino manages to fit three of his digits inside you before you orgasm with him latched to your swelling bud, coating him in your slick. He doesn’t stop licking until you’ve come down from your high, pushing his head away, overstimulated. Nanami removes himself from you, unbuckling his belt, watching intently as your boyfriend slips his wet fingers inside your mouth. “Taste yourself babe. You’re so fucking good.” You slurp your own juices off him, pussy throbbing, aching to be fucked. 
“You like that, don’t you, sweetheart?” Nanami murmurs, shimmying out of his pants, erection protruding from his briefs. He palms it, rubbing his thumb over the wet spot oozing from the tip. “Ino, tease her a little bit.”
“Yes sir,” he salutes, pulling down his bottoms, cock sprung against the hem of his sweater. He taps the tip of his dick on your puffy bud, smiling wide as you writhe for him. “Damn, baby. I’ve never seen you this wet before.”
“It’s a good thing you came to me then, isn’t it?” Nanami mentions, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “Now turn around for us, princess. It’s going to feel so much better for you like this.”
You obey, readjusting your body to bend over the desk, ass pushed towards Ino, desperate to be used by them both. Your boyfriend positions his cock at your entrance, huffing, “You ready, baby?”
“Yeah. Fuck me, Ino,” you moan. “Fuck me hard.”
He glides in slowly, stretching you out little by little, easing into you. Once he’s all the way in, groin pressed to your ass, he starts thrusting at a steady pace. It increases gradually until he’s pounding away at you, hitting that sweet spot over and over until your eyes glaze over, in a total state of bliss. 
Nanami studies you, enjoying the show until he notices you staring at the bulge in his briefs, tongue lolling, practically begging for him. He smirks at you. “You want all your holes stuffed, don’t you, sweetheart?”
You nod, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, eyes weepy, peering up at him. How could he resist such a cock hungry slut like you? Especially when you look at him like this? 
“I’m going to give you my cock then. Think you can take it?” he asks, shoving his underwear off, cock flopping against his abdomen. 
“Oh yeah, she can fucking take it,” Ino grunts, hands gripped to your hips, still fucking you with fervor. “Right babe?” He delivers a fresh slap to your ass, which echoes off the walls of the office. 
“Yeah, I can take it,” you mumble, gulping down the spit collecting on your tongue. 
Nanami hums, satisfied with your answer, inching his dick closer to your mouth. “Open up for me, sweetheart.”
You do, swallowing him until he bottoms out to the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex. He stays still, staring at you, relishing this lewd sight. “Ino, your girlfriend looks so pretty with my cock in her mouth. Don’t you agree?”
“Fuck, yeah. So fucking hot how she just takes it. She’s a good girl, always has been,” he says from behind you, spreading your cheeks open to watch himself disappear into your pussy with each thrust. 
“You’re a lucky man,” Nanami mutters, tipping your chin up, gazing into your eyes. “And you’re a lucky girl, aren’t you? Getting fucked by your boyfriend and his senpai.” Nanami begins to move, pumping himself in and out of your hungry mouth, your tongue running along the underside of his dick. 
Ino shrugs his beanie off, running his fingers through his hair, damp with perspiration. “Oh fuck, baby, you’re taking us so fucking good.”
“Like a proper slut,” Nanami adds, tracing the outline of your lips, glossy with spit, stretched around his shaft. “Do you suck his cock as good as you suck mine?” 
You nod, swallowing your gag reflex as the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat with each solid thrust of his hips. Your second orgasm approaches quickly, your pussy clenching Ino’s cock, though you can’t say anything while gobbling up Nanami’s cock, so you let it be, continuing to be spit-roasted over the desk, thirsty for their cum.  
“Fuck, I’m going to come soon,” Ino says, slowing his pace. “I’ve never…I’ve never come inside her before.”
Nanami, still relishing his blow job, asks, “Why not?”
“Too scared to get her pregnant,” he admits. It’s true; Ino always pulls out, even when you beg him to finish inside you. You appreciate that about him, but in this moment, you want nothing more than his cream pie filling you up. 
“Is she on birth control?”
“Y-Yeah.”
Once again, as if psychic, Nanami responds, “Then I’m sure she wouldn’t mind getting your load just this once. Right, sweetheart?”
Your words are muffled. Nanami pulls out, cock wet with your spit, stroking it in his fist. “What was that, princess?”
“I said yes! Give it to me, Ino!” you whine, shaking around him. 
“Fuck, are you sure, baby? You sure you want it?”
“Give it to me. Want you to breed me,” you blurt out. 
“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Nanami coos, slapping the head of his cock on your tongue. “How about here? You want it here too?”
You glance at Ino, who’s watching. He nods, licking his lips. “Yes. Want your cum inside me, senpai,” you reply. 
He smirks, pushing himself back inside you, his length sliding on every inch of your tongue. “Good girl.”
It doesn’t take long for both men to come, Ino shooting his seed deep into your womb, stuffing you full, Nanami spurting ribbons into your mouth, guzzling down each drop. They pull out slowly, cocks sensitive now from the stimulation. You roll over onto your back, catching your breath, looking up at them with a satisfied smile on your face. 
Nanami cups your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing delicately against your skin. “Such a messy girl. I think she needs a few more lessons. What do you think, Ino?”
Your boyfriend’s eyes are blown wide, staring at the lewd sight before him, your pussy leaking with his cum, your mouth drooling with Nanami’s. “Yeah. Definitely needs more, senpai.”
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juliuspeppahwood · 1 year
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'my therapist knows about you' could be shade or a huge compliment
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itostea · 5 months
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rings (gojo x wife! reader)
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in which you want your arranged husband to finally give you a ring
warnings: arranged marriage au (part of the gojo's wife series), gojo calls you his wife, suggestive bc gojo is a menace, reader lowkey downbad, i'm back after 4(?) months oops & lmk if i’m missing anyone for the tag list
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There’s a gentle breeze that escapes from the open windows of the cafe you sit in, the quiet chatter blending in with the bossa nova jazz that plays from the speakers. Only a few people reside in the building–some of which include students, friend groups, or strangers just hoping for a nice cup of coffee. 
Your eyes flit to Utahime using a straw to make circles in her drink. She was the one who recommended this cafe, referring to it as an “underground” location–a phrase that you would’ve not expected her to use. Correctly at that. 
“How are you doing with that idiot,” your other friend, Shoko asks. “Do you guys still sleep in separate rooms?”
You watch her reach for a cigarette and frown, your hand slapping hers lightly. “There's a ‘no smoking policy’ here. And to answer your question, no we’re not. We’ve been sleeping in the same room for a little over a month now.”
“On the same bed?”
“Yes?”
“And that’s it?” She drawls, arching an elegant brow as she puts her box of cigarettes away–taking another sip of her black coffee. “Nothing else? You know, like clothes gone, french kissing–”
“Yes that’s it! Keep it down here,” you hiss, shooting another glare at Utahime who stifles a laugh by pretending to drink her tea.
Shoko rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee–this time narrowing her eyes at you. “So why are you sulking?”
“I’m not sulking.”
“Yes you are,” she retorts and you frown when you hear Utahime agree. They’ve always been so sharp. “Something’s bothering you so tell us.”
You purse your lips, gripping your cup a bit tighter as you heave a sigh. You’re avoiding their gazes, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s stupid.”
“We’re not gonna judge you,” Utahime gives you a reassuring smile, nudging Shoko who tries to take out her cigarette box again.
“Okay,” you start. “Something feels like it’s missing. Not that it’s ‘Toru–”
“You call him ‘Toru?” Shoko laughs quietly, rolling her eyes when you narrow your eyes at her. She sighs. “Continue.”
“There's nothing wrong with ‘Toru and I feel like I’m expecting something from him. We’re making progress with the whole husband and wife thing but I guess I just want,” you pause. “I guess I’m just wondering when he’s gonna give me a ring…”
They both blink at you, with Utahime making a sound with her throat. “There’s no way that idiot’s that stupid.”
“But that makes sense. The wedding just happened on paper since the elders wanted Gojo to get married quickly,” Shoko adds. “So? What are you gonna do? Drop hints?”
“That’s not really my way of doing things…”
Shoko rolls her eyes for the nth time, frowning at the lack of coffee in her cup. “Things would be a lot easier between you two if you just communicated,” she says, holding a hand up when you’re about to respond. “But I say give him some time. Gojo might be a lot sharper than he lets on.”
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You replay your friend’s words in your head as you dice the carrots mindlessly–throwing them in a bowl with chopped up potatoes. Ever since Gojo told you that he hardly has any time to cook with the sudden rise of curses, you’ve been wanting to surprise him with a home cooked meal: curry rice. After all, you were finally granted some leisure time after a mission so you were more than happy to set up a surprise.
Not that it was much of a surprise since he was home earlier than usual–not that you were mad since it was rare for him to arrive home just a little after you did. You perk up, catching a glimpse of his boyish grin that seems to spread across his face. “Oh? What’s this?”
You clear your throat, feeling a bit bashful at how pretty his smile was. “I’m making dinner for us since we haven’t been able to have a home cooked meal in a while.”
“Well, aren't I a lucky guy?” He ruffles your hair as if it were a habit of his, his eyes as soft as his voice the moment he leans down. “You mind if I take a shower first? I promise it’ll be quick.”
“Your shower’s are never quick,” you comment, giggling at how he acts as if he’s been caught. As he leaves, you feel yourself getting giddy at how wide his grin had been when he saw you. You wonder if he always looked at you like that and you have to mentally calm yourself down by reminding yourself to not get too excited. 
By the time you set the plates down, you already hear the padding of his feet against the marble floor. He’s dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a pullover, sitting in front of you. He smiles again, murmuring a low “hello” as if somewhat shy. 
You smile in return, observing him as he takes a bite of the food you made. Your heart stops for a few seconds, gauging his expression for any sign of disgust–feeling it explode in your chest when he eats it like a starved man. “Is it good?” 
“So good,” he answers without hesitation, flashing another grin at you–the same grin that makes you feel warm inside. “My wife’s so talented.”
“It’s just curry rice,” you respond, feeling a bit sheepish at how easily he sings praises to you. You realize you’ve been watching him eat for a little over than a minute, your hands reaching to the utensils to try your own food. 
The conversation takes off naturally. He’s asking about your day at work and you do the same; he teases you and you shoot another remark at him. It’s all good-natured until he pauses, looking a little hesitant. “Listen (Name),” his voice is lower, nervous. “I know I should've done this before but it really didn’t cross my mind…”
Your reaction is instantaneous as much as you try to hide it. The ring. Was he going to give you one? Your eyes flit to his furrowed brows and the way he pokes the inside of his cheek. If he’s this nervous, then it should be pertaining to a ring right? You’re already answering before he can finish. “Yes.”
He blinks, peering directly at you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, your smile wide as you lean a bit closer to the table. 
He breaks out in a large smile, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wow I didn’t know you liked Netflix so much.”
All of a sudden, the delusions you’ve been building up topple like dominos. Your voice’s stuck in your throat as a wave of bemusement hits you. “Huh?”
“I was gonna give you my Netflix account! I completely forgot to give you it for a while and the kids have been on my ass about it.”
“Y-Your Netflix account?” You murmur in disbelief, wondering if sharing a Netflix account was a golden rule couples had to obey. 
It was Gojo’s turn to be confused, his pretty blues blinking at you. “That’s what we’re talking about right?”
Disappointment drenches you from top to bottom but you quickly mask it with an easy going smile. “Yeah! I love Netflix…”
You breathe a sigh of relief, mentally applauding yourself for not mentioning anything about a ring. You take another bite of your food, not noticing the way Gojo looks at you–gulping as if hiding a secret of his own. 
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“I want to give you something,” your husband’s voice is gentle, velvety as he pulls you towards the couch. 
He smells good, you think to yourself–earthy and fresh. It’s faint yet it’s enough to make you dizzy. “Something?”
“That’s right,” he coos, grinning down at you from the couch. Again, you have that undeniable feeling of hope choking you, trying your hardest not to show your excitement as he reaches in his pocket.
Yet, instead of a small, round object, you’re faced with a card. A black card. Not a ring. Your lips part in shock as the initial disappointment becomes surprise. “I can’t take this!” 
You’re left with more disbelief at how his expression seems to fall dramatically. “Why not…?”
“Because I just can’t!” 
“But you’re my wife and I wanna spoil you,” he tries to reason and you have to try not to swoon how he calls you his wife even though you already know it. You clear your throat, shaking your head rapidly. 
“I can’t ‘Toru–”
“Yes you can,” he huffs, his lips falling into a pout that you would’ve found funny if he didn’t just hand you his card. “Trust me on this one. You’ll make me happy if you use it. So treat yourself, alright?”
You frown, murmuring another protest and stopping when he glances at you from under his shades, his lips curling into a coy smile once he sees the guilt in your eyes–his mind piecing things together. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” He ruffles your hair once more, making your heart do another jump. “Just take it. Please?”
You think he’s doing it on purpose–the way he looks at you as if you’re a diamond among rocks. It’s hard not to say no when someone looks at you like that–harder when it’s Gojo. You sigh. “Fine. But I’m not gonna use it often.”
He grins that smile you like again, his thumb grazing your jaw. “That’s my girl.”
You avert your eyes at his binding smile, ignore how he seems to enjoy teasing you a bit too much. You sigh, ignoring the way your heart flutters all over again. And with the way he watches you, you think his stomach’s doing somersaults as well
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It’s early in the morning, dark in the room you share with Gojo–the sun barely awake just as you were. There’s the sound of quiet shuffling, the spot next to your empty. It must be one of those missions, you think to yourself.
You hear him murmur a low curse at the sound of something dropping, feeling amusement at how he tries to quietly put the item back in its original place. You think of falling asleep again but your gut tells you to stay awake, still listening to his quiet pacing. 
You feel how the mattress slightly dips, his cologne filling your senses–luring you to sleep. Out of sheer willpower, you try not to react as his fingers reach down to graze your cheek–try not to open your eyes to see what kind of expression he wore. You wonder if he did this every time he had a mission so early in the morning, feeling an unfamiliar feeling tug at your heart. 
His voice is barely above a whisper as he leans down. “I’ll be back home by dinner today. I promise.”
Part of you debates on falling asleep and it wins, until you feel him shuffle a bit closer. And just like that, you feel cold metal slip on your finger–your ring finger. The material fits perfectly around your finger and your hand twitches as you hear him stand up to leave. 
It hits you a bit later than you’d expect and you would’ve never thought realization would sound like the front door opening. You scramble out of bed, tripping on the blankets as you smile so hard it hurts. 
“Toru?! Wait! Don't leave yet! Toru come back!” 
And like you hoped, he looks back, the metal of a ring similar to yours greets you.
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