#and i tried to make it... kind of objective??

[kings-highway]

haikyuu ships but its ways they said "i love you" before they had the courage to say "i love you."

daisuga: Suga's favourite movie of all time doesn't really mesh with Daichi. He thinks it's confusing and weird, and the gore is way over the top. But Suga loves it, and the comfort it provides, especially when he's sick, so Daichi always watches it with him even if he hates it. "Why do you always agree to this?" Suga asks, as Daichi's settling in to ride out another viewing. "Because it's something you love," he replies, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

iwaoi: Iwaizumi doesn't think he's ever going to convince Oikawa that he's the best setter, or that he's worked hard enough, or that he doesn't need to compare himself to everyone else. But he hates the way Oikawa can't seem to find value in himself outside of some seemingly fickle ranking system in his mind. So when they're fighting, and Oikawa keeps saying that it's just "objective fact" that Tobio is better than him, Iwa has to grab him by the face and tell him: "I won't let you slander things I care about."

ushiten: Tendou had often made the joke about being Ushijima's best friend, because it was funny. All their team, their classmates, always laughed. "He's my bestest bud," Tendou would say, because the whole school knew they made a funny pair, and it was laughable to think Ushijima would ever articulate a sentiment as juvinile as "best friends." Of course, when Ushijima realizes that people find this joke funny, he's very confused. "If it is a matter of not being good enough for you," Ushijima says, because he cannot think of a reason anyone would disparage Tendou, so it must be joke at his own expense, "then I will earn it."

kagehina: Hinata gets injured late in their second year. Its not the worst injury in the world and will heal just fine, but it takes him out of practice for a few weeks at the beginning of summer. He expects Kageyama to forget about him during this time. What good is a spiker who can't jump, can't even practice? But that doesn't happen. Kageyama seems to, if Hinata's not mistaken, dote on him. Carries his stuff, scolds him for not elevating the offended ankle properly, tells him to be careful. "Why are you being so fussy?" hinata asks. "Because I can't stand the idea of you not making a perfect recovery," Kageyama replies. "Who else could keep up with me?"

tsukkiyama: Yamaguchi likes to tease Tsukki over his lack of other friends. "You're too mean, you scare them away!" and "You're gonna have one lonely birthday if the only person who bothers to show up is me!" The last time he said this, though, Tsukki had replied with: "You're enough." and Yamaguchi still hasn't quite gotten over it yet. They celebrate his birthday just the two of them that year.

arankita: Aran came over to help on the farm over spring break. He didn't have to - between you and me, he hated that kind of physical labour anyway - but it was a way to spend a little more time with Kita before they graduated. At the end of the break, Kita surprises him by giving him a key to the house, "for emergencies," just in case. When Aran blusters and tries to ask why, Kita says: "I trust you." Considering Kita has never trusted anything except for himself and his own actions, Aran isn't sure any spoken sentiment could have meant more in that moment.

[childrenofcain-if]

Fuuuckk! *Throws some angst for W*

Childhood Friends to lovers are really my weaknesses when it comes to stories and I am left just craving for more when I see this trope because most of the time it's just never executed right. Forgotten Childhood Friend with the other pining for MC, while MC (can) remain obvious 👀👀👀 Now that's a great setting for angst if I ever saw one!

Because in a scenario where MC has a trinket, a stuffed toy, a keychain, and W sees it and freezes, because it's the same one they gave MC years ago. MC mistakes it for interest and tells them "Oh, I don't really know where I got this from but it looks cute, don't you think?"

Just *ASDFGHJKL* What would be their reaction? Because MC still kept something that symbolizes their time together. But on the other hand! MC forgot about them and only kept the trinkets!

Also crying over this song that reminds me of W. The story within the song is different but the longing and yearning is there that rips my fucking heart out. I could not find the song cover that I really liked on YouTube so, here's one that seems close.

https://youtu.be/YiVpWPkbdPY?si=R2csRdrSsRFsO9K6

Also I can't wait for Sept 22! So excited to play the demo!

the moment W spotted the red muppet, everything about them stilled—their breath, their posture, the casual air they usually carried around you. their hand froze mid-motion as they’d been reaching for something else, but now their fingers hovered above the clumsily stitched muppet, their gaze glued to it as if the sight had transported them somewhere else.

the stuffed elmo sat on the dresser, slouched and frayed at the edges, its stitched seams visible in uneven lines—clearly done by an unpracticed hand. it was amateurishly repaired, the kind of haphazard work a child might do when they were trying to fix something that was once beloved, not caring how it looked as long as it was whole again.

it was the same one. there was no mistaking it. the muppet’s orange nose was slightly off-center, where their stitches hadn’t lined up properly, and one eye was smaller than the other.

their heart clenched, an ache so familiar it was almost comforting, and for a second, they were eight again, sitting cross-legged on the floor of their childhood bedroom, hands trembling as they tried to patch the torn elmo plushie back together. it had been torn to shreds by paolo, your mom’s neighbor’s pitbull, and you’d cried—they hated seeing you cry.

the memory hit them like cold water, their body suddenly stiff, eyes wide as if they’d seen something that didn’t belong in the present.

and then, you speak, completely unaware of the weight they were carrying.

“oh, i see you found my favourite plushie. don’t really know where i got this from, but it looks cute, don’t you think?”

your voice was light, casual, almost dismissive as you twirled the stuffed toy in your hands. like it was just an object, a relic of some forgotten childhood. but for them, it was the artifact of a time when the world was bigger, when the two of you were inseparable, when they would’ve done anything to fix even the smallest thing for you.

W’s breath caught in their throat, and they had to force themselves to blink, to remember how to speak. their heart pounded, not from excitement, but from the disorienting rush of memories. they had given this to you. or tried to.

they had stitched it back together so carefully, spending hours making sure it was perfect before nervously handing it over. you’d smiled back then, said you liked it, and they’d believed it meant something. something more than just a token, more than just a toy.

but you didn’t remember. you didn’t even know where it came from. a part of them wishes you didn’t still have it. wishes you’d forgotten completely, because this—you keeping it, but not remembering them—is so much worse.

they swallowed hard, trying to keep their voice steady. “yeah, it’s... cute.” the word felt wrong in their mouth, like it was somehow betraying the weight that muppet plush carried for them.

their gaze lingered on it, their mind racing, wondering if you had kept it because you cared, or if it was just some forgotten relic of a time you no longer remembered.

you smiled, tilting your head. “it kind of feels like something special, you know? like it was given to me by someone important. i just wish i could remember who.”

W’s chest tightened, the claustrophobic feeling spreading through them. someone important. you didn’t remember them, but you still felt something. they looked at you, at the elmo plush dangling from your hand, its threadbare form a little sad, like a reflection of something lost. something that was once held together, but now, you didn’t even recognize the hands that put it back together.

they wanted to say something, wanted to tell you the truth, but the words tangled in their throat. what was the point? you didn’t remember, and the idea of reminding you now—of laying bare this vulnerable part of themself—felt utterly terrifying.

W laughed, though it sounded strained, and ran a hand through their blonde locks.

“i, uh…” they cleared their throat, glancing down, hands gripping the edge of their denim aviator jacket. “i used to know someone who had one just like that. torn by a dog, actually. i stitched it up for them.”

your head snapped up. there was something flickering behind your eyes, something W couldn’t quite read. it almost looked like jealousy, but that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? you couldn’t be jealous over a stupid story from childhood.

“really?” you asked, your voice carefully neutral. “who was it for?”

they paused, their heart hammering in their chest. they didn’t want to say it outright—they didn’t want to ruin this delicate, strange balance between you. so they shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “just... someone i knew. a friend.”

you nodded, but there’s a glimmer in your eyes, something that was very close to envy.

“i bet they were really important to you, huh?” your voice has an edge, and W can hear the undercurrent of an unspoken emotion which you were trying to suppress.

they want to laugh, but it catches in their throat. “yeah,” they mutters, their gaze flicking to the floor. “they were.”

you glanced down at the toy again, running your fingers over the uneven stitching, and W’s stomach twisted. they wanted to reach out, to tell you it was theirs, that they’d sewn every stitch with clumsy hands, that it meant something to them because it had been for you, only for you. but instead, they just stood there, rooted to the spot, their mind spinning with the weight of what you didn’t know.

“was that friend really close to you?” you asked softly, your voice almost too quiet, as if you were afraid of the answer.

W froze, caught off guard by the question. they hadn’t expected that. they hadn’t expected you to ask, hadn’t expected you to care. but now, standing there with the past pressing down on them, they realized they couldn’t lie—not about this.

“they were... they meant a lot to me,” they said carefully, their voice barely above a whisper. they looked away, not wanting to see the confusion or the hurt or whatever it was that might show on your face. “it was a long time ago, though.”

you nodded slowly, though something about your posture had stiffened, like you were trying to process what they’d said, trying to make sense of it.

“i see,” you murmured, your eyes flicking back to the toy in your hands. “that’s really nice. i don’t really remember much about my childhood.”

W swallowed hard, feeling the weight of those words. you didn’t remember. of course you didn’t, the last summer you spent together was the darkest period of your life. how would you remember them, or the hours they’d spent trying to make that muppet perfect for you, or the way they’d felt when you smiled and said you liked it? and yet, you’d kept the plush. you’d kept it all these years, even though you had no idea it had been them.

“yeah,” they said quietly, their voice heavy with understanding and empathy. “i guess a lot of things get forgotten once you grow up.”

you didn’t respond, but you didn’t need to. the silence between you said enough—that painful, lingering silence that wrapped itself around the two of you like a python of what could’ve been.

the muppet sat in your lap, a symbol of a shared past that only one of you remembered, and W felt that ache again—that deep, hollow ache of being close to you but so far away. like you had travelled to the stars and they had no way of reaching you anymore.

they took a deep breath, trying to pull themself back together, trying to focus on the present, on the fact that you were still here, even if you didn’t remember.

“anyway,” W said, forcing a smile, “i’m glad you kept it. even if you don’t remember where it came from.”

you smiled, though it didn’t reach your eyes, and W wondered if some part of you did remember, somewhere deep down. whether it was an actual possibility or W’s wishful thinking, you didn’t say anything else about it, and neither did they.

and in the end, all W could do was smile back at you, pretending like it didn’t hurt. like they hadn’t been completely forgotten as well.

[idontplaytrack]

janis is being really mean (like ex regina style mean) to her friends and no one knows why and one day she goes to far and gets yelled at and than she breaks down and regina is her gf and is like wth is goiing on, Janis breaks down and tells her than she has to apologize to her friends.

Do you see me?

Janis 'Imi'ike x Regina George

Warnings: coarse language, angst, implied attempt

They all knew Janis was unafraid to speak her mind, but then things get out of hand and the reason had to be coaxed out by Regina

"Hey, you." Regina came up behind Janis and kissed her on the cheek. Janis froze, or flinched, Regina wasn't sure. But something out of the ordinary happened.

"You okay?" Regina asks in a quiet voice, obviously concerned.

Janis gave her nothing but a shrug before she proceeded to open up her locker to retrieve a textbook.

Regina wasn’t too convinced but let it slide. Then they went about their days like this brief conversation never happened. All was seemingly…fine until lunch when the whole group was sat together for the break. Aaron said some stupid joke that made everyone laugh— everyone but Janis. Then Karen teased her for being unamused, so Janis got pissed, in seconds. She stabs her fork into the food and was gripping onto it so hard, the plastic utensil easily broke into two.

Everyone saw it, everyone reacted— some more than others. Regina tried to stay nonchalant about it but her worry was steadily growing. Three days in a row something like this has happened now. And as reckless and well— extroverted as Janis tended to be usually, nothing worried the blonde more than when Janis was quiet. 

After the day at school ended, Regina drove Janis home, but Regina doesn’t just leaves. She follows Janis into the garage. The Hawaiian doesn’t object, but Regina was doubtful that she even knew that she was right behind her.

“Janis, will you talk to me, please?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s just stress.” Janis answered curtly, dropping her backpack with a thud. 

“About?” Regina pressed. 

Janis snaps, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Regina flinched, startled by the tone. Yes, Regina got scared by the tone. Janis ignored her from that point on, changing into comfy clothes then just crawled into her bed and slept. Regina hung around for a bit then left, defeated. Closing the garage door, she was met with Janis’ dad in the driveway. “Mr. ‘Imi’ike, hi. I was just dropping Janis off.” 

“Hi, Regina.” The man gave her a kind smile, he was always happy to see her. The guy didn’t have a single mean bone in his body— he was too nice. Even after knowing what Regina did to his daughter in middle school. He said he believes that everyone has a reason for why they act differently, as long as they were willing to admit that and change…all was good. And so Regina fought the urge to ask him directly if Janis was okay. It’s only been a few days, right? Maybe it was just PMS. That wasn’t unusual. 

“See you tomorrow.” Mr. ‘Imi’ike chuckles, “Drive safe, stinker.” 

Regina shook her head in disbelief and guffaws. That nickname, from years ago. He randomly started to use it for Regina one day and it just stuck. Janis was ‘peanut’ — even till today, her Dad still called her that. Regina thought it was cute.

As Regina drove off, Mr. ‘Imi’ike enters the garage after knocking on the door. “Hi, peanut.” He poked his head in, “Do you want to have lunch with your —”

“No.” Janis answered quickly, “Not happening.” 

“Okay.” He nodded in understanding. He didn’t want to ask her that, he was forced to.

“Could you just bring it in here for me?” Janis requested, “Please?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Her Dad agreed, “I’ll be right back.”

Janis moves over to her desk in the meantime, diving right back into working on her art pieces. Art pieces, plural. She’d been busy with a few of them to make the deadline of a portfolio submission for one of her dream schools. She hears two voices in the house, which had only become a thing lately. Janis cringes, she hates it when they are like that— squabbling. Mr. ‘Imi’ike returns with the food: pineapple fried rice and teriyaki beef skewers. Delicious. 

“Wow, thanks Dad.” Janis forced a smile. It was one of her favourite lunches ever, and she didn’t want her Dad to worry any more than he already was. 

Her Dad set the plate down on her desk, stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to her head, “Eat well, ipo. I’ll go get you a drink too. What do you want?”

“Ah, we don’t have that drink here, Dad. You know that.” Janis says with a laugh.

“Hawaiian Sun? Who says we don’t?” He grins, “I brought some back for you when I went home to Hawai’i.”

Janis gasped, “Really? Guava nectar flavour too?”

“Especially that. I know that’s your favourite.” He laughs similarly, “I’ll just be a sec.” 

This little conversation took her mind off of what she was working on, which was a much needed break. Janis had been working on those pieces pretty much non-stop when she was at home. 

“Thanks.” Janis says, immediately cracking open the can to take a sip of her beloved beverage.

“Of course.” 

And so, Janis ate her lunch while watching some TV. She’d moved again, over to her couch and just focused on her meal. Because let’s face it, those school lunches aren’t ever filling enough to actually be a lunch. 

Janis didn’t hear from anyone else that day, not even Regina. And she didn’t even realise. Janis couldn’t be bothered by that, all she could think about was the portfolio completion. That was her only focus. Regina on the other hand, was contemplating whether or not to text the girl, but she of course, ended up not doing so and the rest of Janis’ evening ended up being awfully quiet. Not that she even noticed because she was so engrossed in finishing her art pieces. 

Her current piece? A painting of a wilted hibiscus, with a chrysanthemum growing right by it. She was barely finished, but her Dad came in later that night and urged her to turn in for the night. 

“G’night, peanut.”

Janis chuckles, “Good night, Dad.”

“Sleep tight, love you.” 

————

The next day, the first half of the day was fine. Janis made it through without much trouble. And like yesterday, the problem came during lunch. All the chatter and laughter was driving Janis nuts, and she typically would be joining in on it. But given how occupied she’d been with the portfolio, that was the only thing on her mind. Everything else…was just noise. Loud, irritating noise.

“Janis, what are you thinking about?” Damian asked. She exhaled harshly, not bothering to even look at her best friend, “Did you have one of those silly ass dreams again last night?”

“Shut up.” Janis muttered. 

“Come on, he’s just worried about you, Jay.” Regina continued, “And honestly, I am too.” 

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s worried about the art freak.” Janis stabs her fork into a dumpling, “Who cares? Stop annoying me.” Her mind quickly drifts again, back to a specific moment on Monday. 

Janis had just gotten home from school on her own since Regina had lacrosse practice on Mondays. And while she was expecting the house to be quiet because her Dad would be at work, but instead, she saw her Dad sitting at the counter with a woman. It seemed so ridiculous, Janis thought her eyes must've been playing tricks on her. The woman, was her mother, who up and left her and her Dad almost eleven years ago without a word. “Oh, my God. Janis!” The woman gasped, smiling brightly at the sight of the teen— like she hadn’t just shown up here after more than a decade of being absent and wanting nothing to do with them. “I don’t know who you are, don’t try to hug me. I won’t like it and neither will you” Janis bit the inside of her cheek, her hand still clutching onto one backpack strap. Before her mother could even walk close enough, Janis disappeared through a side door into her garage. “Leave her alone, Leilani.” Janis hears him talking to her mother as she leaves the side door.

With her garage being soundproofed, Janis knew she could safely scream. So she did, but not without unintentionally smacking some items on her table to the floor. Then she was sobbing, her heart was confused, but her head was clear— she hated that woman for what she’d done, leaving her all alone, leaving her father all alone. How dare she just come back like she hadn’t done anything wrong? Yes, Leilani was her mother, but she’s never acted like one. From the moment Janis was old enough to remember, the woman’s almost never around. Every single early memory? Was just Janis and her dad, Janis and Damian, even Janis and Regina. Never ever Janis and her mom. Why couldn’t her heart agree with her head? Janis hated that, she hated this feeling. It made her feel like shit.

Once she’d stopped crying, Janis picked herself up and sat at her desk, starting a new painting with the wilted hibiscus and growing chrysanthemum. 

Janis wasn’t sure how, but she managed to make it through another day at school without fully blowing her top. But today, Regina wasn’t going to let whatever this was, go.

“Why is everyone here?” Janis leaned against the doorframe.

“To hang out.” Regina answers simply.

“What are you trying to do? I don't need saving or whatever this is.”

“I already said, I’m worried. I wanna help you.”

“I don’t need your help!” Janis snapped, shutting the door. But Regina held it open, so did Aaron when Janis tried to shove it shut again. “Something is going on. I am not leaving until you tell me what is happening because this isn’t like you.” Regina inhales deeply, blinking away tears. “Let me in. Please, Janis. You don’t have to be dealing with it alone.” Janis’ palm falls from the door, and she moves off to the side, Regina enters the artist’s garage with the rest of the gang. “Who’s that with your Dad?” Gretchen asks, seeing the pair talking in the front yard after walking out from the house. Janis scrambled to shut the door and lock it. “Um— it’s strange having all of you here like that but I owe all of you an apology. How I’ve been acting all week with you guys was messed up. I’ve been stressed about submitting my portfolio on time to the colleges I hope to be able to attend, and then my Mom who’s basically been no part of my life showed up here on Monday after school like she didn’t abandon me and my Dad without an explanation more than a decade ago, and I just— I lost it, I was so thrown off I didn’t know how to help myself, pick myself back up and I just also didn’t know how to tell anyone because none of you guys knew at all about my Mom, not Damian, not Regina. So I was in a bad, bad mood, I tried channelling all those emotions into my art but still, it was bugging me, it was bugging me so badly I just became a mess.” 

The group’s never been this silent, a few were stunned, the others were shocked and worried. Each of them felt a combination of those feelings, merely a fraction of what Janis has had to deal with. But even then, it already felt like a lot. “I don’t want my Dad to get hurt again, I can’t lose him too. He’s all I’ve got here, my family’s miles away. He moved us here to get a fresh start after my Mom left us, a part of me died back home in Hawai’i. My home, became the most painful, most traumatic place. Such a beautiful place became so ugly because of one person’s decision. My earliest memory of her, was her leaving. I remember my Dad keeping it together for my sake, but I would always hear him crying when I was up late at night. I’ll never be able to forget any of that— he was always so happy, so carefree. He gave me everything, and then I was the one who almost left him alone too. One thing I did right was not going through with my attempt— I could never hurt my Dad too. But I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just tell her to go? I never told him, after the ‘obsessed lesbian’ shit in middle school got too much, I wanted to end it, the only way I knew how, the only way I knew would end the pain forever. He doesn’t know to this day and I will never be able to bring myself to tell him, I don’t want to give him another blow to his heart. So I’ve just been working through that on my own during therapy. But then, well, this happened. I’m sorry that I’ve been so rude and bitchy, I didn’t mean any of it.”

Regina immediately engulfed her in a hug, “I'm so sorry.”

“I know you are, we already talked about it. We’re good.” Janis sniffled, “Guys, I’m really sorry, it’s just been so difficult.”

They all crowded around the couple for a group hug, which Janis appreciated but would never outwardly admit just yet. The apology in this setting was a big enough step forward. 

“We can ask that woman to leave, you know?” Damian quirked a brow.

“No.” Janis decided, “I’ll do that. Right now.”

Janis entered the house before anyone could stop her. Dumbfounded, they just watch her walk inside. 

“Dad. She has to go, I don’t care what she’s been telling you but she’s history.” Janis stood tall, but was trying to fight the painful lump forming in her throat.

“I’ve missed you, ipo.”

“You’ve missed me?” Janis scoffed, “It took you eleven fucking years to realise that and come here? I don’t know what you’re trying to do after being nonexistent in my life. My earliest memory of you was you leaving us. You have no clue how hard life has been, you have no idea what we had to go through because of you. You’ve got no idea what kind of shit started because of your decision to abandon your own partner and daughter. You see me here now, standing in front of you in one piece. But you have broke me inside in more ways than you could’ve ever imagine so don’t come up to me saying you miss me because I don’t know you at all. We had to leave home, because of you. We had to leave family because of you. Grandma and grandpa hated you, and I couldn’t understand why when I was little because I was just sad mommy was gone. But when I was old enough, I remembered— you, were never there. Dad was there through all of it. Every single milestone, elementary school graduation, middle school, my first fucking period, my first heartbreak, high school, and everything in between. While you…you were nowhere. Then you just waltz in here like you went on a weekend away? No. No! You don’t get to do that and expect forgiveness. Stop trying, it’s already been over the second you thought about walking out on us."

"She's right. Please listen to your daughter if you love her like you claim you do. We don't need any of this— not now, not ever. We don't need you. We've been just fine, the both of us."

Janis felt like she blacked out, but felt a pair of arms around her: her dad's, of course. She hears Leilani getting up from the stool at the same time he shields her eyes from witnessing her mother's second departure. Only this time, it was going to be good for them because they were doing perfect without her before she reappeared.

"i got you. I got you, Jains. We're okay. I promise." Her Dad assured, holding her close, "Regina, I know you're standing there, get over here."

" I wasn't listening—"

"I know." He nods, "Just thought she might want you."

Regina nodded, giving the kind man a tight-lipped smile as she wraps her arms around Janis once her Dad let go. "Guys, don't go yet, I'll make you all something to eat. Dinnertime's soon anyway, just hang around, huh?'

"Thank you, Dad."

"Ah, no problem at all, peanut. You're my baby girl, it's always been you and me. Hm? And it always will be."

Regina held Janis' face in her hands, lightly squishing her cheeks before her thumb caressed her tear-stained cheek. "I love you, I will always be here for you. I swear on my life that you will always have me in your corner. You will always have us in your corner, no matter where life takes us for college or our jobs. We’re gonna be there no matter what it takes, life’s tough sometimes but together we’re sure as hell tougher.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

I’m so sorry this took such a long time, but here it is! Thank you for waiting🥲

[maybeelse]

Long-forgotten Fireflies finds her doll huddled outside, its display case's well-polished glass shining in the little nook between two of the building's many trash cans.

She hums happily and kneels down beside it.

"Hey, Lace. What are you doing out here?"

It doesn't meet her gaze.

It's garbage day, but they're so far into the concrete forest that the truck won't reach them until the evening; that vast thing rumbling past is just a bus, no matter its grasping arms or Lace's hopeful gaze as it passes it by.

"This one is waiting, Miss."

Fireflies doesn't ask what it's waiting for. The other question matters more.

"... why, Lace?"

"It just is."

"That's not an answer, dear."

It glances up into her face, ready to flinch away from the disdain and anger it's sure that it will see.

What it flinches away from is far, far worse.

Lace sees nothing but compassion in her age-wrinkled mask; nothing but kindness in her eyes.

It can't bear that; can't bear the idea of being seen by something that it knows shouldn't look like that at it, can't bear her gaze—

She catches it by the scruff of its neck as it tries to throw itself into the road.

"Now why would you try to do that, Lace?"

Her voice is reproving but tempered with far more sadness than Lace would prefer, and so it struggles for a several seconds before finally going limp.

"This one, you, it," it stammers, words piling up until the meaning drowns beneath them; Fireflies lets it go on for a bit, hiding her amusement, before she finally interrupts Lace's rising distress.

"Slowly, dear. One thought at a time. Pause for breath. You know how."

It takes a long, deep breath, tears burbling up around its too-big eyes; a bubble of something not entirely like snot pops on its little button nose.

"This one isn't good enough for you, Miss. It's old and worn out and you should have a doll who doesn't stumble at simple tasks."

"Is this about the cup you dropped?"

It squirms; for a moment its hands rise towards the old scars all along its arms, but it hasn't been allowed to have proper claws in decades. "Not just that, Miss."

"What is it about, then? And that wasn't even one of the good cups."

Lace breathes in and out, hiding itself in compliance with Fireflies' instruction; but a pause can only last so long, and once it has its thoughts in order it must speak.

"It just ... it just doesn't feel like it's good enough for you. This one makes so many stupid mistakes ..."

"And? Lace, I make stupid mistakes too. All the time."

"You're a witch! You're supposed to bite off too much and fight with the world. But this one is a doll."

"You are, yes. But that doesn't mean you have to be perfect or anything, dear, just try your best."

"But ... but this one should be perfect. For you."

"Lace, no. You're supposed to be you, with all your flaws and quirks." She sighs. "If I wanted something perfect I'd ... I don't even know. Perfect isn't real. I want you, not some impossible fantasy."

It sniffles. "But it's getting old, Miss. It's struggling more, and it's not as pretty as it used to be. It's not good enough."

Fireflies sighs again; they're just going in circles, and she's sure that it's just going to keep on going.

"... fine, Lace. But you're not allowed to throw yourself away."

"But, Miss ..."

"If I ever decide to get rid of you, which I don't think I will, it will be by my choice. Not yours. Not you disappearing while I'm distracted."

Lace sniffles again, snot rolling down its face.

"B-but ..."

"No buts, no objections. You're mine."

Fireflies drags Lace into a hug, uncaring of the dollish liquids smearing across her dress; it cries more freely at the warmth, at the softness, at the touch it thought it was too worthless to ever feel again—

She doesn't let go of it as she stands up and grabs its display case, nor as she carries it back inside; the door slams shut a moment after the garbage truck's rumbling tread and gnashing jaws begin to shake the street outside.

It's not a conclusion, but a reprieve.

[nevermorgue]

ms hayley ! !! do you have hc's for how eulalie would interact with the misfit's cast? I feel like she'd get along with them all save for Montresor and will but I need eulalie content 🙏🏻

omg hiii. I think you meant to say annabel’s team because you brought up monty but I GOT YOU. I got you.

With Annabel

- Annabel finds her very odd. She is a bit bothered by how unpredictable Eulalie can be with her blunt words and tendency to not properly understand all social cues. Annabel Lee is a woman used to talking to people that are playing the game she is, so this is not something she is used to. - Eulalie is very perceptive, much to Annabel Lee's dismay. She notices when Annabel is mildly irritated by the way her eyebrows shift on her face. - Eulalie asks Annabel to give her doll curls like her. She does not (and cannot). - Annabel is horrified to see Eulalie putting two different tea bags into one cup. She wants to see what the flavors taste like together. - Eulalie isn't terrible at chess. Not on Annabel's level, but she doesn't mind playing against her. - Eulalie asks her one day why she's mean. Annabel simply responds with "Think me mean if you wish, I am simply surviving." Then Eulalie says something like "What is the point in surviving if you're all alone by the end?" She bites her tongue. She cannot tell Eulalie that she will never be alone as long as she has Lenore.

With Ada

- Honestly I think this could go both ways.

- Ada calls her creepy and finds her weird, but she doesn’t really dislike her company.

- Eulalie thinks she’s pretty! She likes touching Ada’s hair bow.

- Asks to borrow said hair bow. Ada only agrees because someone wanting to look like her NEVER happens.

- Ada is jealous of her singing voice.

- Eulalie mentions something about the length of the small intestine and Ada feels sick She just remembers an ax to the stomach.

- Eulalie tells her that she’s pretty a lot and Ada gets kinda mad bc she assumes Eulalie is lying to her because of her tone/the way she speaks.

- “Why would you think you’re not pretty?”

“Empty flattery will not get you anywhere with me!”

“It’s not empty. It’s quite full, really. You are pretty.”

- And she just struggles to believe it internally because compared to Annabel she doesn’t really feel pretty. But of course she just haughtily laughs and goes like “I know! Finally, you took notice!”

With Prospero - An unlikely duo. Eulalie is interested in his medical knowledge. He is mildly concerned about how much she knows about the human body despite having no medical career. - Eulalie's humming kinda reminds him of his mother. He'd rather die than say that. - She claims that he is mean too, but not as mean as Annabel. He takes mild offense. - She tries to curl a piece of her hair around her finger and put it in front of her face to copy his hairstyle. - Reading buddies. She'll blurt out a random fun fact about bones or something and he'll nod and add one of his own. Freaks. - Eulalie insists that when he's with her, all the "survival games" are set aside. She can tell it stresses him out. His hands tense up when he holds objects, and it's obvious even with the gloves. He's a jaw clencher too. With Montresor - As good as you'd expect it to be, really. - He calls her 'little miss' because she's anything but little. She literally would not care if it were anyone else but him. - He yanks at her sleeves because they're long and easy to grab. - "Why is everyone with great hair so mean?" "Aw, that's real kind of ya to say, little miss." "You’re horrible.”

- He tries to like intimidate her with close contact but she’s almost his height. Plus, she just doesn’t respond to that sort of thing.

- I think they’d be really interesting actually. He’s been compared to the devil, is considered demonic…and she has an interest in the occult. Imagine that.

With Will

- Honestly, not as bad as you might first think.

- She sort of pities him, but not really. He knows the choices he makes are bad.

- She’s happy to share things with him if he stares for a while. He’ll never dare ask for something, just kinda stare like a puppy until it’s offered. She won’t be cruel for no reason.

- She actually likes hearing about his writing journals.

- Will starts to instinctively study her face and body to learn how to become her even though he has no reason to. She can tell by the way he mumbles her words after she speaks sometimes.

- They’ll be sitting in silence and she’ll suddenly ask him what his loneliness feels like. Like uncomfortable questions that he can’t/doesn’t want to answer. But his reaction is enough of an answer.

- Allows him to turn into her so she can braid his hair.

[olivialau]

Shadow's Embrace Ch.26

Sukuna x Reader

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fanfiction based on the universe of "Jujutsu Kaisen," created by Gege Akutami. The original manga, anime, and characters belong to their respective owners and creators.

Notes:

This story unfolds in the Jujutsu Kaisen world, set in a slightly altered universe where Sukuna inhabits his own vessel distinct from Itadori Yuji's body, making him a separate entity.

Summary:

Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, becomes fascinated with a female sorcerer rich in potential but lacking control. Initially seizing her for his destructive plans, Sukuna aims to bind her abilities through a contract. Yet, as he tries to dominate her, he finds himself intrigued by her strength and determination. Over time, his interest evolves from strategic advantage to a deeper, personal connection.

---------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 26 - Showdown

You stood beside Sukuna a little while longer, your breath unconsciously falling into rhythm with his. The quiet was broken only by the crunch of small rocks beneath his restless feet. He seemed incapable of standing still, as if he were waging a war in his mind, a battle he tried to fight out with the gravel beneath him instead.

His hands flexed and clenched, the veins bulging visibly under his skin. And all the while, his gaze remained fixed on the distant line of trees, deliberately avoiding you, as though even a glance in your direction might tip the balance of the conflict within him.

It felt odd to see someone as powerful as Sukuna grappling with something. You'd never imagined that anything could rattle his unshakable ego.

Was he genuinely that disturbed by the rare kindness he had shown?

Now that you'd thought about it, he had been acting surprisingly restrained almost the entire day. Apart from his harsh words, that is. It was slightly disconcerting, like a lion choosing to lie down with a lamb. But part of you couldn’t help but hope he might lie down with you a little longer.

However, beyond the idle daydreams and hopes surrounding Sukuna, you couldn’t deny that his restraint was also a valuable opportunity. If you could persuade him to grant you some time alone, you’d have the freedom needed to pursue your true objective for today: tracking down the curse that killed Ayumi.

You were sure he wouldn’t simply agree to the idea of his ‘pawn’ potentially risking her life in a quest for vengeance.

But fortunately, Sukuna’s influence had made you better at deception.

The countless lies you spun at Jujutsu High, the half-truths you told your friends and Gojo—all were a result of the pact he forced on you. In the end, he had shaped you into a liar and manipulator, and you felt no guilt about using those very skills against him now.

If anything, it seemed almost poetic—fitting that he would finally face the consequences of his own games.

"Sukuna…” you began, softly, as if unsure. It was better to let him think he had the upper hand, that this was a moment of genuine vulnerability.

His gaze remained fixed on the distance as he kicked the next rock with particular harshness, as if to underscore his earlier warning against overstepping.

“What?” he grumbled, sending another stone skidding further away.

“I was thinking,” you muttered, carefully choosing your words. “Ayumi’s grave… it’s not far from here. I haven’t had a chance to visit since, well, everything happened. I thought maybe I could go there for a bit. Alone. Just to… pay my respects.”

Sukuna’s expression didn’t shift at first, but a small sneer soon curled his lips as that familiar, fiery glint returned to his eyes. He seemed eager for the opportunity to revert to his usual demeanor, to distance himself from the inner turmoil he was feeling.

This was comfortable for him—simple, instinctive.

"And why,” he drawled slowly, “should I let you run off by yourself? Didn’t I tell you already that I do not care about your dead friend?”

The way he referred to Ayumi stung, but you forced yourself to swallow your emotions and look away, focusing on your feet. “I… I just thought…” you stammered, letting your voice waver ever so slightly under the guise of false vulnerability “I thought maybe… you’d understand. Just this once.”

He tilted his head slightly at your pleas, finally turning to face you. And the cold look in his eyes told you everything—you weren’t getting anywhere with this approach. Maybe another tactic would work better...

Your mind scrambled for an answer, and only one thing came to mind.

Sukuna thrived on power and the satisfaction of seeing people helpless under his control. If you could play to that, if you could flatter his ego and make him believe you were utterly at his mercy, perhaps he’d grant you some leeway.

Your voice tightened. “Besides, it’s not like I could ever escape you," you said, as you you fidgeted with your hands. "It's like you said this morning, I'm well aware of that. Me, my friends, my family… you could erase them all with just a flick of your fingers.”

You clenched your jaw, hating the groveling tone you had to use, but you pressed on, “I'd never be foolish enough to go against someone as powerful as you.”

Sukuna’s grin deepened, his sharp teeth gleaming. “Keep going.”

With great hesitation, you glanced up through your lashes and looked him in the eyes. “Your strength is beyond anything I could imagine, and I understand my place. I’m not trying to defy you—I’m just asking for... a bit of time.”

He watched you for a moment longer, relishing the way you lowered yourself before him. Then, with a slow, deliberate sigh, he turned his gaze back toward the trees. ““Fine,” he said. “Go. But one wrong move and I’ll slice through this building and everyone in it.”

You couldn't hide your relief, a pleased expression crossing your face.

This certainly made things easier.

“Also,” he called out, “don’t try an act like that again, little sorcerer... While it was thoroughly entertaining to hear you beg through gritted teeth, I have no patience for those who grovel. At least retain some measure of dignity and strength.”

Annoyed by Sukuna's remark, right after you put yourself through something so humiliating, you rolled your eyes, letting sarcasm seep into your voice despite your better judgment. "So, what would you prefer? Should I say, 'Let me mourn my dead friend, or I'll kick your ass?' Is that what you're looking for?"

As soon as the words left your mouth, you tensed. This was incredibly reckless.

Why did you have to provoke him right after getting his permission? You were growing too bold around him, and you knew it.

The familiar shiver of fear gripped you as his eyes lit up. Yet, alongside that fear, there was a strange anticipation—an eagerness to see how he would respond to your challenge.

"You’d kick my ass?" he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet.

Sukuna turned toward you fully, and in an instant, he had his hand firmly grasping your shoulder. The tips of his sharp nails pierced through the fabric of your dress, sinking into your flesh with a painful pressure that kept you immobilized.

"I should tear you apart just for entertaining that thought." His eyes locked onto yours and a silent battle of gazes played out between you.

In that moment, the strange anticipation you’d felt began to make sense.

At first, whenever he threatened you like this, you felt pure survival instinct—an acute awareness that this man, this monster, could extinguish your life in a heartbeat.

But now? The dynamic was shifting. It wasn’t merely a matter of him threatening you; it felt as though you were both testing each other, dancing on the edge of danger.

It felt almost like… banter. Like a twisted, deadly version of it, sure, but still—there was a strange rhythm to these exchanges.

You wondered if he sensed it too. Was he playing the same game you were, or did his words still hold the lethal danger they always had?

For now, you didn’t want him to revoke his permission, so it was wiser to hold back on the challenge. "Hey… it was just a joke," you said, pulling your eyes away from his, in an attempt to defuse the situation.

But Sukuna wasn’t finished. He grasped your chin firmly, drawing your face back toward him.

"A joke?" His voice was a low hiss, and his lips curled into a snicker that sent a chill through you. "Do you want to know what happened to the last fool who dared joke with me? A clan leader in the Heian Era, thought himself clever, thought we were equals."

His next words slithered out slowly, each one more menacing than the last. “He lost his tongue first... then his eyes. And now? He’s just another forgotten name rotting in the dirt..."

Despite the dark threat hanging in the air, there was something inside you that refused to flinch, a quiet voice that knew—he wouldn’t kill you. Not now. Not like that. Maybe it was reckless, maybe you were just as foolish as that clan leader, but you felt the urge to push him further.

You needed proof that you weren’t just another pathetic human to him, another soul he would casually destroy. That there was something—anything—that set you apart. That was the only way in which your own feelings could have any meaning.

“Well," you began, fighting to keep your voice steady. "You’re the one who said you hate weaklings who grovel, right? And you’re the one training me. Doesn’t that mean you want me to be stronger?”

Now the pendulum could swing both ways.

Sukuna's brows drew together and his jaw tightened with irritation. He released your shoulder with a sharp shove, causing you to stagger back a step. "Stronger, yes. But not stupid. There's a difference, and you'd do well to learn it."

He exhaled, a low, rumbling sound like the growl of a beast that had been repeatedly prodded. 'I'll let it go, this once, but keep running your mouth like that, and we'll see how much longer you last."

A strange sense of satisfaction settled over you, knowing he was being lenient with you—far more than he would with anyone else.

You swallowed the smug grin threatening to rise and kept your tone steady. "Got it. Keep my mouth shut, loud and clear."

Sukuna's eyes held you with a silent warning, yet there was a contradictory glint of challenge in his stare, as if he were daring you to step out of line again.

When you didn’t, he simply sighed and rubbed his temples. "Now go. Before I change my mind."

You stumbled slightly as you turned, quickly regaining your balance. With a hurried nod, you walked away, resisting the urge to look back, though you could feel the weight of his gaze tracking your every step until you disappeared from view.

---------------------------------------------------------

At first, you headed in the direction of the graveyard. Though there was little chance Sukuna knew your true intentions or even where the graveyard was, you wanted to keep your cover airtight.

Once you were certain you were out of his sight, you veered sharply to the left, abandoning the path to the graveyard in favor of a narrow alleyway leading to the abandoned construction site.

Pulling out your phone, you texted your mom, letting her know you'd be back in an hour and that you were heading to Ayumi's grave for a moment alone. You made sure to end the message with a “love you” and a kiss… just in case the worst happened.

As you turned into a familiar street near your house, you could have sworn you saw something slip around the corner—a dark shadow, there one moment and gone the next.

A chill ran down your spine, and you wondered why you had such a visceral reaction.

You glanced around, but the street was eerily quiet, not a soul in sight. There was no cursed energy either, certainly not Sukuna’s—you would have recognized that instantly. Shaking off the unease, you turned your gaze back to your phone. It was probably just a stray dog; they wandered through here all the time.

Just before you rounded the final corner, you could already spot the tall cranes and scaffolding of the construction site rising above the rooftops. You paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

It was odd; you didn’t feel fear—only a deep sense of relief that this moment had finally arrived.

It seemed like fate, as if you were following a predetermined path. It had to be you. You had to be the one to end this. Only then could you truly begin to mourn Ayumi, to remember her as she deserved to be remembered, rather than as a symbol of your failure.

With that strange sense of ease settling over you, you stepped onto the site. The vast, desolate space stretched out before you, its concrete floor littered with debris, while the skeletal cranes and rusting scaffolding cast long shadows beneath the cloudy sky.

You paused, planting your feet firmly on the concrete as you centered yourself and searched for the flow of your cursed energy.

And then; you shouted with all the force you could muster.

For a moment it was silent, save for the echo of your scream bouncing off the steel structures. But within seconds, the ground beneath you began to tremble, and from the shadows of the scaffolding emerged the first-grade curse, its dangerous aura unmistakable and all too familiar.

It was as repulsive as before, its head swaying loosely from its neck with every movement, like an old marionette. The curse's grin stretched wide, its eyes gleaming with recognition as if it remembered your previous encounter.

And the twitching of its claws betrayed the same intent you harbored; the intent to kill.

What you needed right now was a moment of physical contact so you could feed of its energy and bolster your own. And if there was ever a moment to get the upper hand it was right now, while it'd be off guard.

So you didn't hesitate and within seconds, you had closed the distance and seized its ugly leg.

You took a deep breath, focusing on the flow of cursed energy within you. Following Gojo's advice, you let the curse's energy trickle in slowly, like turning a faucet just enough to avoid being overwhelmed.

And, as your energy expanded, you entered a moment of perfect synchronicity.

This was your chance.

With a deep breath, you let it pulse out in a single, powerful wave. As you felt the energy align perfectly, you thrust your fist forward, unleashing a Black Flash that struck the curse’s gut with brutal force.

The impact propelled the creature backward into the scaffolding, and the violent crash of metal collapsing echoed through the site.

You couldn't help but chant a triumphant "yes" as you clenched your fist, savoring the victory. But there was no time for celebration; the screeching curse quickly regained its footing and began to charge up its own attack.

With a sudden twist of its body, the curse launched its head forward like a striking whip. It sliced through the air, stopping mere inches from your face, before its jaws snapped shut so close that a few strands of your hair floated away in the stream of wind.

Instinctively, you prepared to step back, but as the curse’s head began to retract, a plan formed in your mind. You ducked low and maneuvered under its head, grabbing hold of the thread-like strip of flesh that tethered its head to its body.

You gripped tightly with both hands to maximize contact, and in its confusion, you managed to drain a significant amount of energy before the curse’s claws lashed out, forcing you to let go.

But it still wasn’t enough.

You needed to drain more—enough to reduce its power to that of a second-grade curse—because your current attacks weren’t doing sufficient damage to shift the battle in your favor.

After catching your breath, you steadied yourself, preparing to close the distance again. However, it seemed the curse had caught on to your strategy. Each time you lunged forward, it swiftly ducked and evaded your attacks.

And although you managed to land a few punches and kicks along the way, the curse retaliated with its claws, leaving painful but fortunately superficial wounds.

As the battle dragged on, your initial calm began to give way to mounting frustration.

Despite your best efforts to remain focused, your emotions began to overwhelm you. Each grin and mocking gesture felt like a personal affront, fueling a seething anger that left you trembling. The thought of Ayumi lingered in your mind, and you couldn't shake the image of the curse making those same taunting faces at her before it took her life.

In a desperate, final bid to replicate your previous tactic, you lunged and grabbed the bloody string of flesh. However, this time, the curse responded with an unexpected counter. It began to swing it's head violently, causing the string to coil around your arms and upper body, pinning you in place.

You fought furiously, tearing at the binding flesh, but the close contact made it difficult to control the energy you were drawing in. So while you finally succeeded in weakening the monster to a second-grade level... the cost was devastating.

You felt your body strain under the sudden energy overload, every muscle screaming in protest as your legs grew weaker and weaker.

When you finally managed to tear yourself free from the rope of flesh, your legs gave way beneath you, and you collapsed to your knees, gasping. Your lungs burned with the effort, while your vision started to blur at the edges.

You could only watch as the curse retracted its head, grinning at you in that repulsive manner, taunting you with every second. And then, as it launched its head again, you couldn’t get your legs to move out of the way. You just barely managed to shift your own head, as it clamped its teeth down unto your shoulder.

The harsh crunch of bones between its jaws drove a scream of agony from you, while warm blood began to trickle down your chest.

You laughed at how pathetic you felt. Was this really how it was going to end? What about Ayumi? What about the revenge you'd promised? And your family—if you didn’t make it back, would Sukuna slaughter everyone there?

No... you couldn't let that happen.

You had to move, despite the pain, despite the exhaustion. You had to get yourself to move. You could endure this. A bite to your shoulder wouldn't kill you. So move.

Move, body, just—move.

With that final, desperate chant inward, you channeled every ounce of your cursed energy into your free arm. It surged into your fist, and then, with a perfect strike, you delivered a punch straight to the beast’s jaw.

The curse let out a shrill screech and finally released its bite on your shoulder.

Going on pure adrenaline and willpower, you forced your battered body to roll out of the way. You swiftly darted behind the curse, which was still reeling from the impact and clutching its throbbing jaw.

And you searched once again for that moment of perfect balance, perfect synchronicity, where everything aligned as if the universe itself was urging you on.

And then, you felt it—Black Flash.

With all your might, you swung your fist forward, closing your eyes to savor the moment of bliss that usually came with landing a Black Flash.

But there was no impact—just a deafening bang.

When you opened your eyes again, the curse started to dissolve before you.

You blinked in confusion, trying to understand what had just happened. If you hadn’t struck it, why was it screeching in terror and gradually fading into a dense, obscuring fog?

And more importantly, did this mean that the burden of guilt you carried, the sole chance to ease that weight and the one opportunity for revenge, was slipping away into nothingness before your eyes?

That realization struck hardest, occupying your mind over any lingering questions about what had just transpired.

Until, as the monster vanished and the fog began to clear, your gaze fell upon something in the distance—no... someone.

Was it Sukuna? Had he not trusted the situation and come to find you anyway? If so... you would never forgive him for taking away your only opportunity. But as you squinted to get a clearer view, you realized this was someone else entirely.

A tall, muscular man with straight black hair emerged from the shifting fog, his presence commanding a certain attention as you found yourself unable to look away.

He wore a snug black shirt and loose white pants, but what stood out above all else was the worm-like creature draped around his body and the three-section staff he twirled around with casual ease as he approached.

With a self-satisfied expression, he muttered, "Phew. Now that that fucker's out of the way..."

You tensed as he stopped right in front of you, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Sorry, kid," he said with a wolfish grin, tightening his grip on the weapon. "But you're next."

---------------------------------------------------------

Thankyou for reading beautiful babes <3 sooo about that appearance... I know he's canonically ☠️☠️ but it's a fanfiction so I make the rules and the rules say he's not lmaooo

Taglist: @sukunasthightattoos , @tomiokasecretlover , @6demonize6me6 , @blindbabycadder , @domainofmarie , @marcoschuitmaker , @geniejunn , @chanaaaannel

If you want to be added to the taglist, so you don't miss any updates, please let me know in the comments or with a private message. Thankyou!

[breadnabreadd]

✦ *sigh* since jujutsu is almost ending... I'm going to show the two ocs ive made because of a RPG (I'm cringe)

Translation:

AGE: 15

DATE OF BIRTH: February 12

HOBBIES: Studying Flowers, Reading Mangas/HQs

Although her fighting skills and physical strength are quite low, due to the fact that Aoi is the receptacle of the "Lady of Connections", the Jorōgumo, and manages to repress it so that it does not manifest itself and dominate her entire body, Aoi has extremely high agility and the ability to heal using reverse energy.

✦ So, this is Aoi Suzuki, a curse vessel. I've tried to imitate the anime artstyle for her reference.😔🤙

✦ Aoi Suzuki is a shy and anxious girl who accidentally got herself into the Jujutsu world. She is a bid nerd, by the way. Really likes Mangas/HQs of action.

✦ THE SPIDER'S RECEPTACLE

There are rare cases of people whose cursed energy and technique derived from an alternative source, which came at later moments in their life and, possibly, unnaturally, whether through the consumption of a cursed object, some alteration in the soul, experienced whatever, that forever changed the person.

And Aoi Suzuki is one of those cases. After being pierced by a strange flower, which was a cursed object, she ended up becoming the vessel of an ancient sorceress, the "Jester of Curses" Making her development uninspired and her abilities derived from the curse within her body.

✦ The curse inside of Suzuki... the "Jorōgumo" this is how Suzuki looks like after Jorōgumo takes over her body. I will post about Jorōgumo in another post 😈

✦ A few fun facts about her! :3

Translation:

• The reason her hairstyle is so strange is because the girls who bullied her decided to give her a makeover.

• She is only 159 centimeters tall.

• Her favorite superhero is Spider-Man. It's kind of ironic if you stop to think about it.

• Aoi knows how to cook and her specialty are sweets! But she doesn't like sweets that much.

• Before entering Jujutsu School, Aoi was in the gardening club at her old school.

✦ Also! If I wrote something wrong in the Japanese... please tell me, I want to make things correct 😢

[eretzyisrael]

by Daniel Greenfield

I was on site when a mob of Islamists and leftists attacked the Adas Torah synagogue in Los Angeles. The synagogue was besieged and Jews were prevented from entering. Multiple Jewish community members were assaulted while the police for the most part did nothing. No arrests were made of the attackers who came armed and masked. While the media tried to once again cover up or redirect blame for the violence, there was enough outrage that a few LA legislators actually attempted to introduce bills banning more of the same.

Who would possibly object to that? CAIR. The Islamist group whose leader celebrated the Oct 7 attacks.

After pressure campaigns totaled previous efforts to stop the pro-terrorist violence, the LA Board of Supervisors, which had backed the UCLA attacks on Jewish students, introduced a proposal for a ‘bubble zone’ that would ban preventing people from entering a school, healthcare facility or house of worship.

Or harassing people in close proximity for political reasons.

I’m not a big fan of the ‘bubble zone’ legislation which fails to deal with what’s going on, but CAIR claims that preventing them from harassing Jews going to synagogue interferes with their rights.

The CAIR press release defends the attacks on the Adas Torah synagogue and claims that preventing hateful mobs from attacking synagogues would be “penalizing peaceful protests simply based on their proximity to geographic landmarks, this motion threatens to push protesters out of sight, effectively chilling their speech, further disenfranchising already vulnerable groups.”

The “geographic zones” in question would be houses of worship.

The houses of worship that the mobs CAIR supports seem to want to attack.

What kind of organization needs to make the case for blocking synagogues and harassing Jews? CAIR does.

[cal-writes]

Do you have any headcannon/interpretations of zoro and mihawks relationship? Most fic and stuff I’ve seen have him as a sort of aloof but caring father. Canon hasn’t really given us much to go off but so far as we know Zoro’s dream in life is still to kill and/or maim him so idk.

ohh i do! (some of the nsfw)

i dont think zoro necessarily wants to kill him, he wants to beat him but that doesnt necessitate killing people. zoro actually rarely kills his opponents that we know of (but then in generall one piece doesnt have a lot of on screen character death i think one of the only few confirmed kills by the straw hats is arlong) like hachi survived, mr one survived, wyper survived, kaku, hody, monet, pika, king all survived their match with zoro. i think at this point the only confirmed kill is the former mr seven prior to canon.

honestly kind of funny to think about zoro having such a ruthless reputation and then we know he killed like, one guy lol (it was probably more and he doesnt seem to have objections to killing in general unless its women and children but you get my point)

so i think to zoro the goal is beating mihawk in an honorable battle to fullfill his promise to kuina.

mihawk i think is bored as all hell. like he's the greatest swords man, he has his own island, he's a warlord so not even the marines touch him (pr time skip) there is no challenge to him, barely anyone even dares to until zoro and even if their fight is ridiculously one sided zoro's tenacity impresses him

like its fucking lonely and boring at the top or how that saying goes. mihawk and zoro are both very alike in sentiment and their sense of honor, standard swordsman stuff. so i think mihawk was pretty happy to find an equal in that regard already even if zoro couldnt beat him yet. he's investing in zoros future and his own in a way

like zoro dropped on his island out of thin air, injured and close to death and he took him in

mihawk giving his energy, tried to help him and seeing “oh okay you just gonna get yourself killed”.

when zoro comes back to ask for his teaching

he has high expectations for zoro and demands him to meet them (similarly to how zoro holds the crew to his own high standards) so i can see the where the stern parent angle comes from

but mihawk also has the experience to read zoro really well. i think before this point he thought zoro was doing it largely for himself, his own ambition. but here with their second meeting "its always for the sake of another". in their first fight zoro said he needs to beat mihawk because of "a promise to a friend" and here zoro does everything to get back to his crew.

i find it noteworthy that mihawk insists zoro recover before they start training, probably knowing full well zoro wouldn't allow himself on his own accord. makes me think of the whole "help yourself before you help others" something mihawk knows but zoro still struggles with.

we dont know too much about mihawk, why his running around alone without a crew or how he got to be so strong but again to me he reads as very lonely due to his powress and he kind of wants zoro to defeat him. not just bc for both of them it would be a good fight but also bc then he could "retire" so to speak.

ive mentioned it before but i dont think zoro will know what to do with himself once he beat mihawk and at this point on canon its definitely taken second place to seeing luffy become pirate king so it can go a few ways. i can almost see them not having a direct battle but maybe mihawk falling to an elder and zoro then beating that elder but we’ll see

it would be interesting to see how thatll go down

i think its more a mentor then a parent dynamic, like a grumpy ass professor that wants you to succeed.

in terms of nsfw thoughts i can only add ten images on mobile so thatll come in the reblog lol

[barksbog]

if anyone wants to learn color theory i will teach you

are you ready?

make things look edible. invoke the desire for your art to be shoved in someone's mouth. it just works.

[waitineedaname]

I realized I made some notes on how different characters fight in mob psycho, and I never posted them. here you guys go, for any reference needs

Mob: mostly simple attacks, not very showy, just waves his hand and uses telekinesis/exorcizes something, doesn’t move around much. As ???%, much more destructive, psychic force seems to just emanate off of him and destroy everything

Teru: VERY mobile, throws himself around with telekinesis, puts his whole body into the attacks and tends to use moves from normal fights (punches, slaps, kicks, etc). Utilizes a variety of psychic techniques with flexibility, very creative. Piss stance, necktie sword. Much more flashy than Mob

Ritsu: uses powers to throw people/things around. While Mob and Teru attack with just psychic blasts, Ritsu tends to use his powers to grab other things as an attack (grabbing the delinquents and throwing them against each other, throwing the Claw guards against the wall, picking up cars to sandwich Shimazaki between them). Uses his environment creatively (fire extinguisher smoke screen against Shimazaki). More flashy than Mob, but not as mobile as Teru. Hand gestures for Drama

Shou: sneaky + speed + bomb!! Tries to be as evasive as possible using invisibility/speed (probably telekinetically enhanced?) to hit from behind, using either telekinetic force (his stomp in his introduction, the shockwave hit on ???%) or his charge bomb attack. Potentially uses speed/evasive moves as defense instead of the barriers we see most everyone else use

Serizawa: likes to channel his powers into an object (umbrella, business cards). Uses that object as a shield, sword, or something to blast psychic powers out of. Not very mobile in season two, moves around much more in the yokai fight. Not particularly flashy, but looks cool regardless

Reigen: deception/surprise!!! Either tricks people into thinking he’s going to do something else and then attacking, or just outright taking them by surprise and attacking before they know what’s going on. Usually doesn’t have a follow-up move, just does the one attack and hopes for the best. Prefers to bluff his way through a situation

[clottedscream]

Yearly redraw number 9!!!!!

[Image ID: A digital painting of a girl resting on a ledge. She strikes a casual pose, popping a bubblegum bubble and scratching the back of her head. She's dressed in a 2010s-skater-grunge sort of style with a pair of high waisted jorts, denim vans, mismatched slouchy socks, a black tank top, and a ratty, splatter-painted overshirt that says "PUKE" in bold block letters. In the foreground beside her, a skateboard with the same splatter-paint design, and mismatched wheels matching her socks, is propped against the wall. It's covered in stickers, including some cats, a lesbian flag, and a bumper sticker that says "defund the M****rfuckers" with asterisks. The background is a placid suburban scene in watercolor style, with trees casting dappled shadows over the foreground. The sun is low in the sky, as though it were both early morning and late afternoon at the same time. Her large yellow headphones and pink gum bubble create a visual link between her and the wheels of her skateboard, as though the skateboard were a part of her. END ID]

[bunnieswithknives]

As an avid D&D player and DM, I love this magic system you've created so much- bc it means that necromancy exists like it does in D&D, but because David is David (TM), he just goes "yeah, but yk what would make this better? Puppets." and just is flying by the seat of his pants trying to create a fusion of DIY crafts and reanimation. he even could be inadvertendly creating an entirely new form of magic while messing around with the Book and his puppetry, but no one will ever know bc he just wants to play around with his little flesh puppets instead of, idk, sitting down and writing an actual grimoire/codex on it and i love him so much for that <3

Really tho!! This is the closest anyone has ever come come to actual reanimation in this universe, not just souless zombies or possessed lamps, real breathing creatures with the souls of people and working innards to back it up! And he's not even writing it down!

[naamahdarling]

.

[the-casbah-way]

Fave TTOI character that isn’t Jamie?

my favourite overall is probably hugh abbot to be honest. i might even like him more than jamie actually. and julius nicholson is up there too i cheer and run laps of the room whenever he comes on screen. i also LOVE terri a lot and i also dan miller and malcolm obviously. but yeah if i had to pick an overall favourite who isn’t jamie i’d say hugh

[molagboop]

Played around in Paint 3D yesterday.