#but she didn't personally care about it - she just knew they did

[sukunastoy]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Prologue (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

⭐This is a redo of my story, Shameful Attraction. I've rewritten it as I originally wanted so long ago. I was trying to write it to appease people and once I let go of that and just started to enjoy the story for itself, the flow became a lot better. For those who read it before, there are major changes you'll notice upon the next upload. For those who haven't read it at all before, I hope you enjoy. <3⭐

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to impliment real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger Warnings: This story has a lot of abuse in it. Reader is in an abusive relationship with her fiance, Toji. There are several moments in the story that highlight this including, but not limited to, acts of violence and aggression towards reader, including name calling, shoving, punching, sexual assault, being manipulated, unwanted bondage and containment, food denial, being drugged etc. Reader is thin, not allowed to eat a lot per Toji's rules in regards to her weight. If she feels like she is gaining weight, she will make herself throw up after meals. Reader also struggles through depression though often hides it through masking, however there are ocassional thoughts of suicide when some scenarios are too extreme to cope with. She's scared to leave, assumes she could never get away, so just deals with it all as she doesn't know what else to do. Wordcount: 2k+

Prologue

Present Day ~ Friday, 10:23 PM

It was happening again. There was nothing you could do to stop it. No amount of shame or fear could keep you from hiding in the bathroom at 10:23 PM, your thumb hovering over the open message icon on your phone. You knew who it was, the person you desperately craved.

The sender's name was your best friend and coworker, Yuna.

You always talked to Yuna; sometimes you even stayed with her after work was over in the affluent area of Tokyo, Roppongi Hills. There were even the rare times you'd stay overnight after work because you felt like you couldn't see each other long enough. At least, it's who your fiancé thought you were talking to and seeing. If he ever found out otherwise, well, you weren't sure you even wanted to think about what might happen.

Toji would get annoyed at you for wanting to talk so much with one of your friends, and he always demanded to know what you two did or talked about all the time, which you offered very detailed lies in response to his questions. It's not like you came to these decisions lightly. You stuck it out faithfully for almost seven years before giving up and needing someone else to make you feel like a beautiful and worthy woman again. To know someone else could appreciate you and offer excitement in your life. To not hit or yell at for everything was a huge plus also. Even if it was only temporary. Even if they didn't care about you in the same way you cared for them, you still needed whatever you could get.

Listening carefully in the silence of the night, you could still hear Toji snoring from your tiny, shared bed down the hall, and finally, your shaking thumb pressed onto the screen, closing your eyes as you felt the little bzzt of the message opening.

Swallowing tightly before accepting the message visually, you peeked an eye open and felt your face flush with a tingling heat that traveled down into your core, making your thighs squeeze together tightly as you sat on the edge of the tub, breath hitching at the photo and caption that now had you uncontrollably mesmerized.

Clicking the lock button on the side of your phone you dropped it down onto the soft rug below, your shaking hands now covering your face before going through your hair and you let out a long quiet breath.

Your heart pounded with the image in your mind, and what usually happened after you got one of these messages, there was no stopping it, and you hoped it never would.

Finally calming your nerves at the moment, you picked your phone back up, only to have that heated chill drop to your stomach again as there was another message to open now. Biting your lip, you opened it and at this point, you could nearly hear your own elevated heartbeat.

-"Aren't you going to answer me, doll? I know you're still awake."-

You covered your mouth with your free hand to try and quiet the excited breaths escaping your mouth, scrolling up slowly to review the previous message.

-"I know it's late, and to be honest, I really don't care. I want you here, need you beneath me in my bed where you know you belong. Letting a real man fuck you. You know he can't make you feel like I can." Photo attached: It was of that enormous bulge desperately trying to push through dark sweatpants that were loosely tied at the hip, shirt lifted and held up by sharp canines to show off that ridiculously built body, and sinful black tattoos that hugged the skin.-

Damn him. A quiet whine churned in your throat as your thighs clenched together more tightly in that shameful desire. He was right though. Toji could never fuck you as good as Sukuna. It was so embarrassing. Embarrassing how easy it was for Sukuna to turn you completely limp in his arms, and how quickly you'd lose yourself beneath him. Embarrassing because of how loud and lewd your moans were. Embarrassing because of how much you wanted this arrogant playboy.

Knowing another message would come through if you didn't reply, you quickly responded with the only thing you could think of at the moment, being so flustered and already getting dumb over dick through a teasing photo. -"I still have that report I have to finish this weekend, I don't think you'd be too happy if I don't complete it by Monday, Sukuna."-

As soon as you sent the message, it was as if there was an answer already waiting, and your phone almost immediately vibrated in response. -"Just stay the whole weekend with me, I don't even care anymore at this point. You can finish that here after I'm finished with you. I've already transferred the train ticket vouchers to you. The last one leaves at 10:51 pm. I'll pick you up at the station when you arrive. Just don't keep me waiting, my pretty, little thing."-

Running a hand over your forehead that felt a bit damp from nervousness, you shoved your phone into your pocket and let out a quiet but heavy breath. Having an affair with your boss was undoubtedly making you the happiest you've felt in years, but still, at the same time, it made you so frightened and ashamed. Especially since it felt like you were getting more attached to him, though you knew Sukuna wasn't looking for a serious relationship of any kind. He had made that perfectly clear. Painfully clear. You weren't the only woman in his life that he entertained, and you knew you wouldn't be the last. You were just fortunate to have his attention, for now.

He certainly knew how to make you feel like the only woman in the world though, despite knowing you were just sharing him. At least he kept his wandering eyes and flirtatious comments under check when the two of you were spending time together. Meanwhile, Toji acted like the biggest flirt in the world with every woman he encountered, even with you at his side.

Toji could be so gentle and loving when he wanted to be, but it never lasted long, and it was only when he was rewarding you for properly behaving. There'd always be something to set him off or some woman nearby he couldn't keep his eyes off of. You were certain he had been sleeping with other women for years, the way he acted around some of them proved it. Despite your supsicions, you had stayed faithful and loyal. Even through the beatings and constant derogatory things he called you. You weren't sure if it was because you had morals, or because you were terrified of him.

So long as you were obedient like a trained dog, Toji wouldn't hurt you. Mentally or physically. Most of the time you were too frightened to fall out of line, knowing how easily he could knock you out, or break an arm; something he's done before in a fit of drunken rage. He definitely scared the shit out of you, and cheating or lying like this was enough to make you shake in fear for your safety.

But, Sukuna never asked you to officially stay for several days like this at his own home. Sure, you've taken work trips together, but even though you gave yourself to Sukuna in any way he wanted, most of those were strictly professional and work related. So, as terrified as you were of your fiancé finding out, you couldn't pass up this type of opportunity. Maybe Sukuna was getting more attached to you as well? 

"I have no desire for a relationship of any kind beyond this. Don't get any hopes or ideas, I simply enjoy what we have, and it wont ever change."

Doubtful.

Even knowing his attitude towards your relationship, it wasn't always easy to keep your mind free of hopeful thoughts, unfortunately. The way he'd hold you so close or kiss you so gently at times brought such confusion it hurt almost worse than any slap from Toji.

You carefully snuck out of the apartment, praying to god that Toji wouldn't hear you. You'd have to come up with some lie at some point, but for now, you just wanted to see the man you desperately longed for. The train station was only a couple of minutes away from your apartment, so it was a quick walk down the road. Approaching the kiosk to pick up your tickets, you held the voucher barcode on your phone underneath the scanner and it printed out a set of tickets for you to board the train. 

Knowing the ride would be a little time-consuming, roughly over an hour, you stared aimlessly out the window for most of the trip, your leg bouncing in anticipation. You tried not to think of all the shameful things you were going to let this beast of a man do to you through the rest of the night, and how you craved every bit of it. It was the only time you didn't have to think or worry, you could just let Sukuna use you as he wanted. 

Nearing the destination, you clicked on Yuna's name in your contacts and took a quick selfie, angling the camera so your pushed-up boobs were clearly visible as well. Before Sukuna, you could never feel confident enough to take such pictures. Even when Toji demanded some risqué photos, you couldn't feel comfortable doing so. Sending them to Sukuna was exciting, however. Being satisfied after a few images, you attached a message, -"I'm coming. ❤"-

-"Yeah, you'll be screaming that soon enough."- he replied nearly instantly.

God, you could hear his cocky chuckle through the text. -"Please, 'cause I seriously need it. This whole week was awful."- You type out, still feeling the throbbing, dull pain in your side where Toji jammed his fist into your ribs for talking back to him. -"Yeah? Well, glad I had you come over then. I'll make sure to fuck all of the stress out of you."-

He sent another photo and you nearly dropped your phone once it popped up on the screen as you weren't expecting to see his large hand tightly wrapped around his hardened cock. You let out a near silent yet audible whimper as your eyes fixated on it. A shudder traveled through your body as you recalled how amazing he could make you feel.

You were just grateful Sukuna asked you to come over tonight, and it not be mainly for work, considering you and Toji had another fight about his past financial problems that somehow became your main responsibility to fix. At the time of your engagement when you were young, dumb, and in love, you had agreed to put all of his bills in your name and his credit debt as soon as possible so he could catch a break and start rebuilding his finances and you'd be able to help with the payments then.

Of course, through some miscommunication, you were responsible for ALL the payments now, and you couldn't keep up. To make it worse, he kept taking out new loans for who knows what and it seriously terrified you. Loan sharks were nothing to mess with. They'd give you anything you want, but if you didn't pay it back, they weren't afraid to get rough for their money. No point in calling the cops either, cause the cops were scared of them half the time too.

Seeing the city lights get closer, you let out a deep breath of suspense, knowing within the next few moments or so you'd be getting fucked stupid in one of the very expensive, luxury penthouses of the seductively, dominant man you met only a few months ago.

You knew the moment you had literally run into him while rushing down the sidewalk, causing his hot morning coffee to spill onto you and all over his expensive suit that things were going to change in your life, even if just for a little while.

End Prologue

I hope you enjoyed! <3 I'm happy to actually be writing this story again. I truly LOVE comments so please leave some! They make me smile so much. ヾ(•ω•`)o

I'll do my absolute best to keep this story updated, unlike before. I promise!

[entitled-fangirl]

Billionaire Brucie.

Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: Moving into Wayne Manor is an adjustment the two have to manage- spending Bruce's money being one of them. She refuses to spend more than absolutely necessary. He throws it around like confetti.

Masterlist

............................................

Y/n walked through the grocery store, her eyes scanning for the next thing on her shopping list. She adjusted the basket handles in the crook of her arm. 'Where…?' She mouthed. She finally found the aisle she was looking for and took off in the direction.

After moving in to Wayne Manor (finally), she'd barely mentioned wanting to go grocery shopping before Bruce held his credit card between his fingers. 

She was now at the second store, running in to grab the few things she couldn't find at the last one.

Bruce had gotten the notification for the transaction at the first store, and he'd immediately stood, stretched, and grabbed his coat.

His sweet girl was so hesitant to spend his money.

She reached up, reaching for Bruce's favorite protein powder. She felt a sudden presence far too close to her and a veiny arm came around her. "Was thinking about trying a new brand."

Oh. She knew that arm. "Bruce?"

His breath fanned over the back of her neck, his other hand tugging playfully at her ponytail to get her to look up at him. Their eyes meet. "Hi, sweetheart."

He kisses her, using it as a distraction as he pulls the basket from her arm. No need for her to carry that around while he's there. "Finding what you want?"

She sighs, savoring the kiss for just a moment longer. "About."

"Is that so? Hard to get everything you want when you've only spent $35. And you're getting my things too? Sweetheart."

"I'm just moving in, not completely restocking the pantry."

He gave her a knowing look. "But I know you'd like more than," he peeked into the basket, "cheap deli turkey and chocolate muffins."

"Hey, these chocolate muffins got me through college," she reprimands. "Besides, I'm one person. I can't eat $100 worth of snacks in a week."

His head tilted in a confused manner.

Realization dawned on her. "I'm like… half your body weight, Bruce. I don't have," she did a grand gesture over his torso, "outrageous muscle mass to keep up with."

"No, you eat like a bird," he grumbled. "Which is why I'm getting you anything you want. I'm paying, baby. Why are you so hesitant?"

"Why the interrogation?" She questions, moving down the aisle- knowing he'd obviously keep up.

"I have billions, Y/n. You're buying Hillshire Farm's cheap deli meat when I could buy a whole turkey farm for you. I just don't get it. Like that dress last week-"

"-Do not bring up the dress."

It wasn't like in the movies where a dress in the window catches your eye, but she had hesitated passing one of the stores in the mall. Bruce then shoved her inside, disregarding her assurances that she didn't need new clothing.

The thrice repaired coat in her closet said differently.

Bruce had politely waved off the saleswoman and perused the racks like any good boyfriend would do, careful to spot any pieces that would look striking on his girl. Y/n, refusing to touch the racks, peered around him when he'd shuffle through some of the hangers.

"What about silk?"

"I'm bringing up the dress," he reasoned.

"You know what?" She huffed. "I don't need this. I don't need anything in that basket you're holding. Not really. So, I'm gonna go if you're gonna keep being up my ass about what I buy. I just thought doing my own shopping would be nice." She moved past Bruce, shoulder checking him. Then, of course, wincing cause he was as firm as a brick wall.

She had driven back to the Manor in a frustrated manner, slamming the door to their bedroom when she'd arrived. 

Now's a good time to empty some of these boxes. 

She sorted through her clothes, taking careful time to hang them up. They'd been through a lot and she'd be damned if their unfortunate end happened from a hanger. 

Opening the closet, she saw the damn dress again, only rehashing her frustration with Bruce.

"It can be whatever color you want, sweetheart. I'm hosting the damn thing, after all. You want a red dress? I'll make the theme red."

"But the theme is green. And in two days."

He shrugged. "Pick an odd color. Make me work for it."

"I'm not… just…" her words trailed off as an associate walked by with the prettiest white gold dress she'd ever seen.

The one in her closet right now.

It was striking. An absolute vision on and off the hanger. She felt unworthy of even being seen in the same room as it. 

But with one little wave of his hand, Bruce had sent her and the dress off to a fitting room.

She emerged with it on, and she was practically glowing in it. She looked unsure, her smile not quite reaching her lips.

"Isn't she just a vision?" the saleswoman grinned at Bruce.

"Always," he muttered in her direction, his eyes not leaving his girl. "Give me a spin, baby." She did so, and he ran a hand over his jaw to keep his thoughts in. "Give us a minute, will you?"

Before the woman was even gone, Bruce closed the distance. "What's wrong?" He purred. "You not like it?" He spun her around to the mirror, bending to place his chin on her shoulder. "Do you not see how gorgeous you are?"

"It's just… the price," she muttered, her cheeks red at her admission.

"The price," he voice drew out, like he didn't understand. "The price," he said again, finally comprehending it- like it was such a foreign concept. "Do you like it?"

"I do." She ran a hand over her torso, smoothing the fabric out as she admired it in the mirror.

"What do you like about it? Tell me."

"The… the color is nice. I think it goes well with my skin."

"Mm hm," he acknowledged. 

"And the length is already right for me. That's helpful. The slit is a little high."

"That's my favorite part," he grinned against her ear. 

"And the top is snug," she continued, completely ignoring his flirty comment. "It fits nice. It's secure. I like the sleeve situation. It just… it's really nice."

"It is," he agreed. He gently guides her hair out of her face, kissing her shoulder gently. 

"So… at least I know what I like now at least. For… future stores. You know?"

And when she had left to use the restroom later, he journeyed back into that store and had the dress shipped to the Manor.

She put on her headphones, just needing to drown out everything. And eventually, the day turned to night and the boxes were unpacked. Most of them, at least.

With a rumble of her stomach, she elected to go to the kitchen- she'd at least gotten a few snacks at the first grocery store. She would be more than fine.

But upon entering the kitchen, an assortment of all her favorite snacks- ranging from the energy drinks Bruce told her to lay off of, those fucking chocolate muffins, and the healthy granola bars she made all the boys eat- was laid out across the counter in a pretty manner. A small note beside it: 

I'd give you the world and more, pretty girl. -Your Bruce.  P.S. This didn't break the bank, by the way. So, go to bed tonight peacefully for once. And have pleasant dreams (about me). I'll be home after patrol.

He was infuriating. But staying mad at him with those muffins staring back at her was hard. She'd forgive him. This time.

...............................................................

[cryptid-killjoy]

Willem was always going to be a guy down for a HTH break in. It was just the sort of adventure Wild Will was in toespecially if it ended in chilli dogs.

Willem also wasn't sure he ever thought of himself as a father figure to any of the dolls yet. Caretaker? Yes. Father, somehow, he didn't see himself as that even of his own creations even if that might have been somewhat true. Thoughts for another, perhaps. Emotions that hadn't quite matured or been labeled, perhaps.

"A mother? Hmm. I guess I can see that. I'll think about that."

He left it at that for more pondering later. What he knew for sure and did not have to think any longer on was Figaro looked cool as fucking get out with a firearm like that. It straight up suited them. Willem decided it was hot and gave it a double glance, maybe two.

"You look like a video game... in a cool way."

The compliment felt needed.

But moving along into the Livvy's home. Willem wouldn't know Figaro would have expected, but he knew what to expect with how many times he'd made these excursions to check the dolls. He navigated the home with ease.

Figaro wasn't wrong for thinking it was sad. Willem knew it was. It was why they didn't mind when Figaro first chose to stay at the ball. Sad things like this were often easier done in private. Modesty for humility. Smalls said no judgement and Will felt safe enough he wasn't unaware of how it would come off.

They laughed about the shrine and even turned red to some extent.

"I'm pretty sure she's my number one hater wherever she is now and has a voodoo doll of me and with its nuts in a vice on a Battleship board and keeps tossing it overboard. I have a theory they had something to do with Pan's flood making the blizzard melt day randomly a double hard moment for us because only she would hate me enough right now to want to make every moment of my life as hard as it could possibly be."

Even saying his theory out loud made him laugh.

"I'd have deserved it though. From her mind. We broke up after sailing on a ship across the water. Trying to drown me just makes sense to me. Poetic Justice. Whatever better form of justice is there?"

Despite it being oddly morbid he said it playful with humoral candor.

Then Figaro agreed to head on out and search for Livvy's uncle's closet.

"Okay, that's good. You come find me then."

He was going to go looking for Smalls, but Smalls said they'd come back when they were done, so they changed their mind and would wait for Smalls to come back to them.

When Figaro headed out Willem went along with his routine of tinkering with each shelf. He'd careful take ever figurine and doll off one shelf at a time and neatly lay them on the bed while he dusted the shelf and then cleaned the figures themselves before standing each one back one at a time. As he did this, he'd make sure any soft ones were fluffed and their dresses were tidied, shoelaces or bows flounced, and hats properly straightened. If Livvy had told him anything particular about the doll, he'd go through that memory in his mind to pay it homage to what sentimental value it held in the secrets of their faces. To the one he had no information he sent the same appreciation because there's sentiment in the bond of a knick knack, a memento, a toy, that's far stronger than just a memory.

He once considered memories like pages in a book of who a person is. They can be turned and re-turned again. He could read the same chapter more than once as many times as he liked for fun, but never truly relive it. A souvenir or memento of a memory is simply that, a small token. It could be thrown away or lost, but the memory still exists. The chapter can still be filed through in one's recollection. A doll however, a toy with a face, for some reason feels different to Willem than some token. Even silent it looks back. It gives the feeling it experienced all your eyes saw in that same memory. It experienced what you did. A shared experience becomes a friend not a souvenir. One can look into those non-moving eyes and think they were there. Maybe it was nuts? However, if you were a person who could also take those same dolls and bring them to life if he wanted the idea might not seem so farfetched. Lifeless dolls might seem more important than just some old attachment that needed to be let go of.

To Willem's credit he hadn't gone as far as bringing any of Livvy's dolls to life, but it had entered his mind. He was under no delusion he'd ever see Livvy again and he didn't want his old girlfriend's living dolls being a drain on relationships. He was bright enough to realize that could be a deal breaker moving forward. He just hadn't gotten to the fully moved forward part yet.

Okay, so he'd done a little messing around. Zero existed. Even Piper existed, more new, Nutmeg. These were not people who were ever going to be in Willem's life in a permanent way. They were when the mood hit kind of friends. These were complicated friends, not actual relationships.

All that said, none of it was on its mind now. Just the dolls were. When he finished with the cleaning, he'd pick up that mermaid again and sit down on the bed. It had a tendency to get the most favor and longest time being held. It had the vast majority of memories attached for Will. He laid back with it. He sat it on his chest and admired its face as he relaxed. He'd glance over at the shelf and give it a smile. Then he'd smooth over the mermaid's glossy hair. Motions like had a way triggering other past memories like turning Livvy into a doll at Barbie and Ken's party. He remembered the texture of her hair and the sand. He recalled the paints. He could relive every brush stroke of the artwork like muscle memory as porcelain slid under his his fingertips.

He sang one of the lines to the song he wrote Livvy just above a whisper. "If you don't feel that this is real then I'll just walk away. Way deep down I know I found the that proof that love can save. So take some time to figure out what this thing is all about. I hope some day you feel it too. I promise that I'll try to love the best I can. You make me a better man. Whatever this is leading to. For the first time I'm gonna listen to my heart."

Then he took a big breath and sat up. He kissed the little figurine. "I guess it all led me to you pretty lady. I saved you from the boxes. I can live with that."

Then he shined up her face one more time before placing her back in her proper place knowing full well his heart would always be with the dolls. It would be a big enough win for him.

"Thanks for being a part of that." He added as he tapped one finger tip on the glass after closing the shelving unit back up.

It left a smudge.

"Woops."

So, he went to Windex the last spot before he was completely done with the room. He cleaned it spotless enough for a bird to smash into. He was pleased with his work. He joked to the dolls, "Lucky this thing isn't a patio door."

“Now that would be entertaining to see. Especially if you two do the awkward dance of trying to pass each other but stepping in each other’s way,” Figaro said. Bright sides, sunny sides, you had to have the light to be able to have the dark too. Figaro tried to keep the balance.

Chili Dogs. Now that sounded good. Just the thought of it was enough to get the hunger going, the saliva flowing, despite being in this stink of a place. “Fuck it, we’re sneaking into Halloweentown one of these days. Once you try one of their Chili Cheese Dogs, your life isn’t going to be the same.”

Hansel as a handsome guy though? “It’s weird,” They said. “I feel somewhat … almost maternal over him? Guess I kind of am a parent now.”

What an odd thing to think about. What an odd thing to realize. In Funkytown, the dynamic hadn’t really changed. Figaro was in charge but hardly ever acted on it. It felt - wrong, somehow, to try to take control, having watched Gepetto give them their own autonomy, their own thoughts, their own actions. So Mr Punch kept being uncontrollable. Hansel kept living in the walls and being a bit of a pervert, his human body still having human feelings, thrusting against a wall while watching through a peephole.

“Yup, keeping this on me,” They agreed. It was not a good smell. Eventually all of the flesh and organs would rot away and then it would just be bones, which didn’t have as bad of a smell, but right now, it was pretty rank. The place needed some sort of Fabreeze cleansing. Or maybe Frank and Delta spent so much time up in their castle, they didn’t even know that it smelt so bad down here. They needed some sort of comment box, in Figaro’s opinion.

All of their information about guns came from movies and videogames. They knew at the very least to turn on the safety for now, until they would need it. “All I need are some green plants, and we’ve gone totally Resident Evil in this bitch.”

Great minds think alike. Figaro was also all about upgrading their setup at home. Getting a bigger TV, though the vintage one had been moved into their room, because they weren’t going to get rid of Gepetto’s things, other than giving some to Willem, of course. But it felt like he was one of Gep’s kids too. The stuff was THEIRS. Not just inherited by Fig. Better sound system, more gizmos and gadgets.

Figaro let Willem take the lead since they didn’t know their way around the apartment block. They had the gun in hand, waiting for a chance to use it. To ‘blast them’ as Thomas would say. Their knowledge of annoying curses and animal speak wasn’t the most useful for a zombie situation, except to get birds and other animals to let them know where the zombies themselves were. They had to bring out the big guns.

They didn’t say anything about Willem having the key. It just made sense, given that he came to visit the dolls. Others might have found it a bit romantic, perhaps, that he kept visiting his ex’s apartment, taking care of her things. But Figaro just found it practical.

The two of them went through the building, checking around corners, making sure that there wasn’t something waiting on just the other side. But it looked as if the building had mostly been cleaned out. Any life that was here that would have drew the zombies in, disappeared a long time ago. Still, once inside of the apartment, Figaro turned the lock on the door to feel a touch safer.

Though they were anxious to get at that Hawaiian shirt collection that hopefully had not been eaten away from bugs or faded by light coming in through the windows, they were curious about Livvy’s room, and would follow Willem inside. It wasn’t exactly what they had expected.

The shelves were new, and taken care of, that much was clear. It wasn’t covered in dust and cobwebs like everything else. The dolls seemed to be in a place of prevalence. They stood out, like they were an important item in a video game or something, rendered more predominantly.

“I’m a little surprised,” They admitted, hands on their hips, looking at the girliness of the room, the teal color that was on everything, the bit of a mess of clothes from when Livvy was deciding what to pack all that time ago for the big boat trip. “I was expecting a huge shrine to you,” They said, looking to Willem. “Or did you get embarrassed and take that down?”

They weren’t trying to be funny or teasing, that’s genuinely what Figaro thought that they would walk into when it came to Livvy’s space. A whole wall plastered with pictures of Willem, maybe some with Fig but with Fig’s face cut out or something like that. Pieces of his hair, his toenail clippings, on a shelf. This was a voodoo town after all, it wouldn’t be hard for some white girl to get their hands on some sort of love potion or DIY-Voodoo-Doll set. But it was actually pretty … relaxed in here.

They were watching Willem more than the dolls after that, making sure that he was going to be alright while doing this. But maybe it was something that he just needed to do, the way that some people just needed a big cry. Something about it being cathartic.

‘Miss her if she comes back.’ ‘Don’t get too lonely.’

It was … kind of sad.

“Yes, I’ll leave you guys to talk and gossip and … do whatever it is that y’all do in here, no judgment,” They said, putting their hands up and backed out of the room slowly. “I’ll come find ya once I finish raiding that closet.”

[forestclan-clangen]

MOON 6 (Part 2)

<< FIRST | < PREVIOUS |

Windfur gently tries to recommend that Olive name her two kits. It's been a moon, and they deserve to have some names. Olive bites back at Windfur, saying there's no point - no thanks to Windfur, she still has a broken back and there's no promise the woods will spare her kits. Windfur bristles. He tries not to take it personally, but he does.

(Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons) (Olive, mediator, female, 62 moons)

Hopechase overhears the argument between Windfur and Olive. Her ears droop as she finishes playing with Olive's kits. Windfur has been trying really hard to care for Olive - his life as a medicine cat isn't as easy as it seems to be.

(Hopechase, warrior, female, 88 moons) (??? Lilac pelt kit, kitten, female, 1 moons) (??? Brown pelt kit, kitten, female, 1 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons)

Windfur teaches Shiverpaw about basic herbs and their uses. He's surprised when she asks if there's any rhymes that can help her memorize clan rituals, like assisting a queen's birth or preparing a funeral. [SKILL REVEAL: LOVER OF STORIES]

(Shiverpaw, medicine cat apprentice, female, 6 moons) (Windfur, medicine cat, male, 20 moons)

----

"Well...yes, there are. I can teach them to you later. Those are usually more advanced medicine that you'd learn later in your apprenticeship," Windfur said

"Helping with a labor, I get. But..." Shiverpaw stared at her feet with a guilty look. Windfur waited for her to get on with it, until he saw the sadness that pooled in her eyes.

Ah. Right. Warblerkit.

Windfur sighed. She must've seen him prepare the funeral pyre - something that was genuinely quite rare for ForestClan, but a necessity if the body was still present.

He really didn't want to talk about death and funeral rites with Shiverpaw on the very first week of her training. But...this was ForestClan, and death would be a common occurrence. Reluctantly, he stared at the wall and looked through the funeral herbs lined up in the shelves. He prepared himself as he offered to give a basic rundown.

"Well...I'll tell you about the fine details later. But truth is, Shiverpaw, Warblerkit's situation was...different. Rarely do we have a body to burn."

Shiverpaw's cobalt blue eyes were wide with shock, before it seemed like she remembered why. Her bristled fur flattened. "...So...we wouldn't make a fire, usually?"

"No. Not a funerary one, anyway. We'd cook their favorite dish if they had one instead, and the Clan would partake in it. Instead of burning anything, we'd bury important mementos of theirs in our graveyard."

"That sounds different from what we did for Warblerkit." Shiverpaw said, her head tilted. "Why? Why do we burn the body?"

Windfur paused. He knew why. He knew exactly why they burned any bodies they could physically retrieve. But looking at the young apprentice's eyes - he couldn't do it. As he remembered the screaming chaos of the late greenleaf storm, as he left for just a split moment to staunch bleeding coming from Olive - the sight of tendrils retreating into the darkness with a small, pale bundle shook him. He wanted to bury the memory and let the woods take it too.

Windfur must've failed to hide his emotions, as Shiverpaw's curious stare rescinded. She shifted uneasily. "It's...It's okay, I don't need - "

"It's just what we've always done," Windfur sputtered. "We just...we burn the bodies, if we have them. We...we don't like seeing the woods taking our clanmates. I heard from Hopechase that it used to be a FieldClan ritual that we adopted after they were destroyed. To honor them."

A lie, Windfur thought. Shiverpaw looked at the funeral herbs that Windfur had taken out of his stores. She gave a soft nod, deciding his answer was honest. Windfur sighed. He wasn't good at this. He wasn't like Chicoryglint. She'd have had some sort of answer for everything. He felt like an apprentice being told he was now the adult supervision for the nursery. But here he was. An apprentice teaching an apprentice.

"...So, like you saw during Warblerkit's funeral," he started, pointing to the herbs he pulled out, "we use fennel, rosemary and catmint, if we can spare any, to decorate the body. This is to hide any unpleasant smell that may arise while we're pending rites."

Shiverpaw stared at the herbs carefully, then pouted a bit. "...No rhyme to memorize?' "...There is one."

"Can I hear it?"

Windfur shuffled a bit in place. "Uh. Yeah. Hold on, I have to remember how it goes..." He cleared his throat, remembering the melody as something almost march-like, as though trying to sing while dredging through layers of dense forest - breathy and rapid. He wasn't sure if he remembered the melody exactly right, but he had to give it a try...

"Bring the fuel to stack the fire, Let the flames climb ever higher, Hear it crackling, hear it singing, Blazing heat is all-cleansing. Weave the mary-of-the-rose, Fennel, catmint, by the row."

Shiverpaw's ears twitched intently, focused on his melody.

"Our hearts may cry to forestall, But this brave soul answered the call... Bring the fuel to stack the fire, Let the soul free from the pyre, Let our prayers sound free, Loved ones bound to memory. May their ashes be preserved, Round the marker, one with earth."

Windfur stopped, grooming his chest fur. Before Shiverpaw could make a comment, he continued. "That ah, last part is what we do after the fire dies down. We collect the ashes of the dead and try to wrap it in something - leather, large ferns, whatever. Then we bury it at the graveyard out west."

"It kinda sounds like a battle melody, but it's a...a requiem?"

Windfur's tail twitched. "I, ah...I guess. Where'd you even learn that word?"

"Requiem? From one of Barleywave's stories, when I was little," Shiverpaw insisted.

Windfur decided to push that aside, choosing to help refocus Shiverpaw on memorizing herbs, now that he got her attention - especially with fennel, which had nearly a dozen uses.

Windfur didn't think about the nursery rhyme for the rest of the day. Truly, he didn't. Cloudthunder had cooked the Clan some smoked meat, Redstar and Hopechase had shared with them their plans to reintroduce the Plentiful Gathering on a small scale. He checked up on Olive again and did his best to respond softly to her grief-stricken lashes. He dismissed Shiverpaw and let her join Morningpaw and Barleywave on learning how to make bulrush rope. By all means, this was a good, productive day.

Which is why he hated that the moment he lay in his nest, he couldn't help but stare at the walls of the medicine den. He told himself he was admiring the beauty of nature, how the giant oak fell and left a massive log den, to be hollowed out by years and years of carving and pillaging by insects. Now, the walls were sturdy and flattened by cat claws. Yes. That's definitely what he was thinking about.

If it weren't for the memory of Chicoryglint's shade settling behind him. The molly gave him a dry smile.

"Did you know that there used to be another part to the rhyme?"

Windfur remembered how his younger self replied. "Really? Can you tell me?"

"Well, there isn't much use to that part of it anymore, Windpaw. The second section was more of a cautionary segment than a ritual explanation. Besides, it's quite...morbid."

"Well, of course it's morbid. It's about funeral rites. Like...maybe it's rare, but surely there's rites for bodies that are really badly gone? Like, the flies got to them already?"

"Oh, no, it's the same rites. We just apply a lot of chive, and break out the mint and lavender if it's really bad. It's the only time those herbs are used - they're poisonous otherwise."

"Well, now that you've told me, I'm curious," Windpaw had said with a twitch of the tail, his dark blue eyes narrowed with frustration. "You can't just tell me there's another part and then refuse to tell me."

"Oh, alright, fine," Chicoryglint's pale grey and golden tail twitched, purposefully tapping the apprentice on the shoulder. A look of mischief appeared on her face. "But it is still very disturbing, nothing like the first half. Might be the most frightening thing in my repertoire. Because its melody sounds more like a battle chant, some lorekeepers suspect this song had a different purpose, once."

"Chicoryglint, no offence, but after vowing to protect StarClan's secret, nothing else really terrifies me."

A tense silence fell in the air for a brief moment. Chicoryglint casually used a single claw to separate two different sets of herbs. Then, after Windpaw had quietly sat curled up with his tail around his paws, Chicoryglint let out a small exhale before giving him the second verses.

"Blood and gore, by the score, Falls to the woods' core.

Show our might; annihilation, Wipe out all foul creation, For our flesh is not our own, When the woods puppet our bones. All scream out their final breath, To the cunning roots of death.

So ignite the funeral pyre, Pile the bodies ever higher, See them burning, see them seething, Saved from the woods' scheming.

So ignite the funeral pyre, Sound the screaming of the choir, End the Fake Cats from rising, Standing high upon your graves."

Windfur blinked. He felt the fur on his pelt stand on end.

He quickly shook his head, chasing out the memory from his mind. He took a deep breath, then curled up tightly on himself, burying his nose into his pelt.

He decided he would never mention the missing verses to Shiverpaw.

Those ones would die with him.

---

<PREVIOUS | NEXT>

[quartztwst]

Your Local Flower Bullies

(No Yan Sim AU)

Their names (left to right): Anisette Selcouth, Daisy Marguerite, and Rosa Russelliana!!

They don’t rule the school since the student council does but they do have power and they abuse it constantly. They come from rich families and their families constantly support the school which makes Headmaster/Principal Crowley SUUUPPERRR happy to allow their kids to attend the school.

They are also Quartz’ past friends. They hold grudges against her.

Anisette Selcouth

Anisette loves to put on a show where people believe she's this elegant and kind woman. She loves the praise and compliments so she shows off a lot and puts others down. Sometimes she'll even manipulate things into making herself look good. The student council and staff might believe she's a well composed and mature student but she's absolutely ruthless and terrible to certain classmates.

She only picks on the weak and lonely because she knows people won't believe them.

"Ah? Quartz? That dumb girl? Hah! I can't believe I used to be friends with her. If you want more information on her, then you have the wrong person. I barely knew her myself."

Anisette and Quartz were friends since middle school until Quartz left the friend group at the start of highschool. Anisette was clearly angry about this since she felt like Quartz was her closest friend.. yet... she didn't know her at all.

During their friendship, Anisette vented a lot to Quartz about her family. She never felt so vulnerable with a person before and really appreciated Quartz's comfort and support.. But Quartz would never share any personal information to her in return which annoyed her. She wanted Quartz to feel comfortable with her too. (Ok this sounds so gay but stay with me now)

Quartz was always there for her yet she left so easily. Did their friendship mean nothing? Was picking on other students too much? What did she do wrong?

Or is it that boy Azul?

Daisy Marguerite

Daisy is a bright but sneaky girl. She really loves to spread gossip and rumors. She's actually the one making up every single rumor. Not a lot of people suspect her because of her "sweet" attitude.

Although she has a friend group, she actually feels really lonely and talks to flowers like they're her friends. She realizes after Quartz leaving, they all were starting to drift away and pay attention to other things. She only makes up rumors and gossip so she could be together with Anisette and Rosa.

She feels really useless to everyone and so the only place she would feel useful in is with her flowers. They won't leave her because they need her right?

"Quartz? Oh, her!.. That lonely girl that likes Azul? I find her kinda weird hehe.. Hey! I heard that she's actually a mean person! She used to beat other students up during middle school. Like I might be a little mean... but Quartz is WAYY worse! Hehe!"

She hates Quartz and resents her. She didn't have to leave the friend group and ruin everything. She messed up the closeness and warmth they had. Why couldn't she just stay?

Daisy finds Quartz idiotic and selfish because now she's alone again. No one wants to hang out with her. They're all busy. They're all gonna realize how much of a bad person she was and make fun of her. She hates being a butt of a joke. She doesn't want that again now that no one will care.

Rosa Russelliana

Rosa is slowly becoming a reformed bully. In the past, she used to hang with Anisette and Daisy and just mess with other students. She thought it was fun at first but she slowly realized how wrong it was. She was also a slacker in her past school days. Her grades and attendance were LOW low.

Because of her horrible reputation and rumors of her beating up other kids, everyone was intimidated by her and her strength. She gave up on joining a club and stays by Anisette and Daisy, accepting her role as some mean girl. Most of the time, she's alone and doing her own thing though.

"Quartz? Oh, yeah. I remember her.. I was friends with her once. I always thought her attitude was kinda fake y'know. Maybe she was faking it for us? So she wouldn't get bullied.."

Rosa doesn't know the reason why Quartz left. She doesn't even know if she even attends the school anymore because she doesn't see her. But Rosa accepts it because she understands that the environment they created was horribly toxic.

[blondeaxolotl-twstocs]

What do Floyd and Jade think of Murray and Sirena as family/parents?

The tweels thoughts about their moms.. Get ready for a yap fest

Floyd - With Murray, those two bump heads with eachother so much to where it's easier to count how many times they DIDN'T. Y'know Floyd's weird mood swings? Yeah, Murray has them AS WELL, THATS WHERE HE GOT THEM. Meaning when one of them is in a bad mood it also ends up affecting the others mood, making it chaotic as all hell on the daily. A regular person would assume Floyd and Murray hated eachother but surprisingly they're actually pretty close. Murray also taught Floyd how to cook, so she's mostly the reason why Floyd loves to cook, especially if it's cooking for someone he cares about alot. With Sirena, Floyd listened and respected her more often than he did with Murray (she is probably one of the few ONLY people who are able to get Floyd to listen to them without trouble). Sirena knew how to handle Floyd's mood swings as well, quickly managing to bring them back up just as quickly as how they went down. Floyd also trusts her with a lot more personal things, especially because she's better at comforting than Murray is.

Now for them together, Floyd doesn't really mind since he quickly viewed Sirena as a mom almost the moment she joined the picture. He just doesn't like it when they smooch he finds that gross lmaoooo. Though he finds it neat whenever he gets in trouble with Murray he immediately runs to Sirena (usually Sirena takes his side as well lmao).

Jade - With Murray, Jade is way more respectful to her, the only times he's been a menace with her is when Floyd influenced him to be lol. Jade does seem to love Murray and show it more often than Floyd (like being asked to help to clean up something or just general nice gestures) that it kinda makes Murray question how Jade ended up being her kid since he behaves way more differently than both her and his brother. In other words Jade just seems to love his mom since he's aware raising two kids alone for a while isn't that hard so he respects her alot.

Now with Sirena.. oh BOY, in word simple words, the best way to describe how Jade feels about Sirena is that she's basically his favorite person, he's a literal mama's boy. Jade is close with his brother and Murray, but he's basically attached to Sirena the most out of anyone. Since the moment Sirena joined their family, Jade looked up to her a lot because he thought she was cool. A personal headcanon of mine is because of Sirena, Jade developed the love for dark and gothic clothing as well just like her, hell even getting attached to anything that's purple as well. TLDR, Sirena was Jade's favourite person and it really shows yeah, made Murray start to think if Jade was actually related to her because he started to pick up behaviours from her too lmao.

And about his moms being together, just like Floyd, he didn't mind. Though will say as a kid, Jade was the type of kid that'd squeeze between his parents to stop them from kissing because "MY MOMMA". Rip Murray, her own kids stole her wife lmaooo

Okay I think that's enough, bonus family doodle for all this yapping

[tinum]

Can I request a fix where reader had heart surgery and they are kinda loopy after the anesthesia and just flirt with harumasa??? Ok it's not realistic to meet someone directly after surgery but I think it would be cute XD

Heartbeat - Harumasa x Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, probably incorrect portrayal of heart surgery, errors WordCount: 966 Notes: I felt like readers personality was closer to his in this fic but its okay because he was just worried!

When Harumasa first heard about your surgery from Soukaku, he could barely contain his anxiety. Thoughts of all the complications swirled in his brain, prompting him to reach for his phone with a shaky hand. He immediately texted Yanagi that he would not be going in to work for the day. She understood your situation, and though she wanted to respect your wishes, she knew Harumasa wouldn't back down. Not when it came to you.

Harumasa was no stranger to hospital visits; in fact, he was quite friendly with the staff. He knew the ins and outs, the sterile coldness, the checking in, the waiting. He sat for what seemed like hours, his leg bouncing in place and a deep pit in his stomach. Whenever a door opened, he would snap out of his trance, hoping it would be your doctor.

When the time to visit came, he was leading the doctor. The halls were practically mapped in his mind. A few turns down hallways and up an elevator would lead you to the recovery ward.

This ward in particular always left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. The walls seemed to be painted with such a vibrant hope: to heal and never return. His eyes had grown used to the colors; they'd grown dull and hope seemed like a foolish notion. Could it really be classified as recovery if coming back was the only outcome?

"We already administered them pain medication so they should be resting. Try not to do anything that'll increase their heart rate," the doctor advised. He nodded, not fully listening. It's not that he didn't care about protocol; no, he quite understood the importance of it. He just couldn't bear another moment wondering if you were okay. "They're strong. A full recovery is likely."

It was as if the doctor could sense his worry. Maybe he noticed his shaky palm reaching for the doorknob, or he was just doing his job. Either way, he had to see you.

Upon stepping into the room, a wave of frigid air struck his cheeks. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from the lines on a nearby monitor. You were lying on your side, slowly twisting upon hearing someone enter the room.

"Haru?" Your voice was hoarse.

He cringed at the weakness coming from you. In a way, it was painful to see you like this: frail and sick. "Hey, how you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

"Like I just had surgery." He smiled at that, he supposed it was a good enough sign. You weren't the type to hide your struggle behind a cheesy joke like he did. He admired that about you.

A few moments pass before he speaks again. "I didn't know."

"I thought I hid it well enough. You weren't supposed to find out." You look up at him; his brows are furrowed and his eyes hold some sort of pain behind them. Maybe it was just the meds, but he seems more beautiful than ever.

"Soukaku told me," he lets out a sigh, "you can tell me anything, you know that, right?" Pulling a chair from the wall, he sets it next to your bed.

"I know. I just didn't want to worry you." Why at this moment did you decide to be selfless? Though he couldn't fault you. It was as if you had taken a page from his own book.

"I'd be worried either way," he murmured, letting his gaze fall under the weight of something tender. "I care about you."

"I don't get it, why are you so worried? It's just surgery." You laugh, a smile rising to your lips. It was rare that Harumasa was this soft. Usually, his tenderness would be waved off by an onslaught of jokes.

"I already said I care about you. You're practically family." His eyes analyze your face. He couldn't quite tell if you were being serious or just fishing for more heartfelt words.

You place a palm to your heart in mock hurt. "Ouch, Harumasa! Did you just family-zone me? That hurt more than the surgery!"

"Oh, c'mon. You know what I mean." His hand wraps around yours, nuzzling it into his cheek. He is warm, or the room is getting hotter. "I care about you. More than just a friend."

Harumasa doesn't miss the way your cheeks flare up or the sudden beeps from the monitor. He retracted his hand in a swift motion and stood up, his expression showing worry. "Are you all right?"

"What's wrong, Harumasa?" you smirk, wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Did you do something bad?"

Running a hand through his hair, he stares at the monitor. Your heartbeats slowed down and no doctors seemed to be rushing in. He was sure he was going to faint, the thought of possibly hurting you fresh in his mind.

"So, was that a confession?" You snap him out of his trance with your teasing voice. His eyes snap to yours, giving you an unimpressed look. You were going to give him a heart attack one of these days if you continued like this. The more he thought about it the more he didn't mind, maybe they'd put him in the room next to yours.

"You," He scoffs, flicking his finger against your forehead lightly, "need to get some rest."

"Aw, running already, Asaba?" As much as you tried to stifle it, a yawn slipped it's way out your throat. His gaze softened when he realized he was making the correct choice. You needed rest.

"Nah, just leaving before you make me do something that'll get me into trouble with your doctor." You didn't catch it from your angle, but his cheeks blushed with a quiet warmth of his own.

[daisiescomelate]

HEY

megumi x reader. Jealousy, I'm done *dies*

Jealousy on megumis part btw 🤭🤭🤭🤭 *combusts*

Thank you, drink water and eat, and rest is important, unclench your jaw and straighten your back, you're loved

(also idk if your requests are open, if they're not, act like this never happened)

Sour

It was a bright summer afternoon with the sun high in the sky and not one cloud in sight. Megumi sat at a table under the shadow of a tree peeling an orange with a knife, the smell of citrus staining his fingers and tickling his nose. He was lost in thought –or trying to be.

Giggles and gleeful shouts came from his side at a distance. You, Nobara, Itadori and Gojo were fooling around as usual, this time with a gameboy Gojo had brought to school with him.

He focused on his task, rolling the orange in his hand.

“No, hold on!” You screamed and laughed. His knife slid to the side and he almost pricked his finger.

"Don't just punch it like that, you have to wait for it's defenses to go down!" Said Nobara.

"There, right there!" You screamed.

Against his best instincts, he turned to look into your group’s direction. Itadori had you in a playful headlock while looking over your head at the console in sensei's hands, and Nobara hit your arm with a wide smile.

"Don't just tell him, he has to figure it out on his own!" She scolded.

Megumi snapped his head back to his fruit. God damnit. He cursed to himself because he knew better than to look.

He felt that ever-present pinch in his ribs appeared again and he resisted the urge to use one hand to care for the sore spot.

“Wait, it's in my bag!” Itadori said suddenly as part of a piece of conversation he had missed. He heard the sound of him approaching.

He entered Megumi's field of vision wearing a wide smile and rubbled into his bag until he found what he was looking for. Megumi kept his gaze staring straight into the orange on his hand, pretending to be in his own world. One bad cut and the juice covered his fingers making them stick together.

A second later Itadori was gone and the sound of your group grew louder while looking at what he carried back with him.

Megumi picked another orange from the bunch.

He continued on his task, while your group while hearing another cackle. He refrain himself from looking, his will running thin. 

An involuntary movement of his neck let him see the way Gojo had placed his arm around your shoulders like he often did with the students, in that sense of camadery, as if he were just another child in their group rather than a fool grown adult. Creep.

Still.

Megumi sighed.

It weighed on his heart.

He didn’t have the type of charisma that people like Gojo and Itadori had. He never cared about it until now, he didn't want to be that loud type of person. But now his keep-to-himself personality isn't helping him at all, and he dreads all this while he sees you having fun with everyone else.

Gojo, Itadori, Nobara, your upper classmates, neither of them had a problem coming up with entertaining topics of conversation, nor they hesitate to come in contact with you. While Megumi was the complete opposite of that. If he was the quiet type, he grew even quieter around you; and if he was the no-touching type, he began to act as if your skin brushing his were to be poisoning.

And all he kept thinking about is how weird it would be to start doing all of those things with you now. It certainly wouldn’t pass unnoticed by the noisy people.

"Megumi-chan~" Rang a certain voice, one that Megumi wildly ignored. He felt something suddenly weighting over his shoulders. He didn’t turn to greet the face that was now plastered next to his.

"Why so grumpy here, all alone, Megumi-chan?" The sound of conversation was getting closer and he realized you and your group were approaching him.

"Stop it with that nickname already." He dryly said to his teacher. Gojo didn’t pay him any mind either, moving to sit right next to him on the bench. As he often did, he was struggling to get a hold of other people’s personal space.

“Oranges, sweet!” Itadori’s voice called out and he fell over the bench at the other side of the table facing Megumi.

“Hand some over here, Megumi.” Nobara said as she sat down next to Itadori, leaving a small space in between. “Sit over here,” she said looking at you and pointing to the space in between Itadori and herself, “I don't want to sit next to this stinky guy.”

“Who is stinky?” Itadori bit back but moved to the side a small fraction to make more space for you. “You also stink,” was his smart remark.

You laughed at seeing the both of them argue and walked to the spot that had been freed for you. Despite the attempt of both of them to make space, it was still a tight fit, and both of your sides were pressing into the other's.

There was a feeling at the back of his throat and in the pit of his stomach, something like acid, corroding. It left a bad taste in his mouth.

“You need to try this game, Megumi,” said Itadori while taking his attention back to the console in his hands, but Megumi was only half hearing him, too focused on the way your arm pressed against his. “Maybe you'll have better luck at passing the boss. Pass me a slice.” That last bit was meant to be for you.

“They are right there, grab them by yourself.” You said.

“My hands are busy, feed me.”

“You're a beast,” Nobara commented but you just laughed, picking up one of the slices that Megumi had been cutting and holding it against Itadori‘s lips.

“Don't get your saliva onto my fingers,” you scold as Itadori bit it off your hands with his full attention into the screen of his game.

The whole scene made Megumi's stomach burn again and he couldn't help but to frown at the image.

A quiet chuckle came from next to him right next to his ear.

Gojo’s slim fingers came into view, catching one of the slices and popping it into his mouth. He smiled with a wild grin and there was another identified feeling at the back of Megumi's head, something that made him feel like wanting to punch his teacher in the face.

“Megumi-chan, cut another slice for me,” he said.

In front of him you were looking over Itadori’s shoulder while Nobara looked over yours with both hands on you. 

Megumi's eyebrow twitched.

“Now, now. Stop with the game already, you're going to make it all sticky.” Said Gojo, making himself useful. The group lightly complained but gave back the console to their teacher.

They lit up immediately with another line of chatter, picking up fruit slices from the table.

“Say ‘Ahh’,” Itadori said with a wide grin, holding a piece of orange in the air close to you.

“Don't fool around with your food,” he couldn't help but to snap in a low growl. Itadori ignored his tone and laughed, but he drew away his hand and put the slice inside his own mouth.

“Well,” Gojo clapped against Megumi's ear, “enough playing, we have to prepare ourselves for another round of training.”

Another round of complaints around the table.

“Gather around your stuff, we are leaving,” he smiled. “Today we're doing a few rounds of two against two in a sparring session.”

Megumi's shoulders tensed. He felt the weight of Gojo's hand falling over his back,

“Yuuji and Nobara against Megumi-chan and our darling here,” his tone heard as it did when he was out on a scheme. Megumi felt his stomach drop to the floor.

“Now, let's get going!” He said, and the three buffoons followed behind him, leaving Megumi behind with the last orange still in his hands.

He dropped the knife and through the remains of their afternoon snack under a tree close to him. He was left with nothing but a small piece. When he popped it in his mouth, he was delighted with how sweet it tasted.

[doodler16]

Yappy Stella Anon again.

I want to have hope for her in season 3 but I simply can't. With what they've made Stella into now, she's literally too stupid to pull anything off. The theory I hate the most with her, is that Andrealphus 'always hated her' and now that he has Stolas's power he's going to kick Stella to the curb. THAT feels most likely rn, sadly. That the story will want to get rid of Stella entirely and have Andy take her place and she can be cast away and die or something. After all 🥺 it what she deserves :3 🌈 we can have our gay ice king take over now (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

Agony, makes me MAD. What I personally thought was happening in the first season was that this lack of attention Stella is getting from the story and from the characters, she was going to use that to her advantage. As it was, she wasn't threatening! Stolas didn't really care, Blitz definitely doesn't care. But Stella matters when it comes to the grimwoire, if that makes sense. In Truth Seekers when Stolas is like "If YOU get in trouble then I get in trouble. WE don't want that!" Building that if shit happens to Stolas, Blitz won't have the grimwoire, and that's obviously a problem. Stolas's problems will inevitably be Blitz's. So Stella, going under both of their radars while they deal with their personal dramas and escapades and distractions in the form of smaller antagonists, will work in the shadows to torment Stolas and have Andy more like a partner in her escapades to be The Worst Ever.

Stolas is finding happiness in this new "relationship" with the imp? She'll ruin it, seed doubt, she already knows Stolas(married for years, she knows whether she likes it or not) so she uses striker to snoop and give her information on said imp she can use to make their already failing relationship worse. Rip that away from him

The actual Octavia manipulation. That's less manipulative and more of nurturing the pain Octavia ALREADY feels from Stolas's repeated failures. Goddddd whyyyyy did they make her relationship with Octavia openly obnoxious it's a WASTE

And THEN the final scheme with Andrealphus. THEY, TOGETHER have been planning the trial to "usurp her horny ex-husband's power". It's not a last minute plan because Stella is soooo stupid. The plan from the beginning will be that either Stolas runs away with his imp, tattered relationship and no power. Or he stays in his sad terrible little life with no imp and monitored power he'll keep. But in both scenarios, he doesn't have his daughter, Octavia is still hurt. The real loss for him. And yeah this is all very Stolas focused but was willing to do that if,,,, y'know the drama was good.

:( Instead the trial is a last minute thing with no build up despite being Immensely Important, motives are just sort of tapered on to the main romance and things just sort of Happen Around Them for it to continue, Stella is wasted for her brother that randomly appeared to steal the show and be "The Mastermind" when it WAS leading for Stella to take that role(in the shadows and playing everyone on strings just because she's "Likes tormenting you!"), and I am sad. I am frustrated and sad. Does this make sense, punching the walls. Stellaaaaaa

Season 3 is supposed to be about the goetia and Stella will have her backstory, so that will be interesting. Andrealphus backstabbing Stella, I do not believe and can’t see that happening. If Andrealphus was truly that fake, he would’ve done it the moment Stolas was stripped of his powers and title. Andrealphus is a massive weirdo but bro is loyal for Stella.

Stella could’ve been cooking and scheming in the background but she doesn’t. Instead Stella is just the dumb and pretty girl. Like girl knew about the grimoire/Stolas relationship with Blitzø and didn’t use it to her advantage. That’s frustrating part. Anon, they made Stella into a cartoon villain (not in the good way, super goofy). Some people are giving Stella way too much credit than she deserves 😂

The funny thing about the Mastermind trial was that in the concept art Salem (ex Spindlehorse employee) made Stella was literally in the trial with Andrealphus. Stella could’ve done so much.

[urauntiefaye]

Hi Faye, first of all I would like to thank you for writing such entertaining content. I am also glad that you are very active lately🥺. Don't forget to take care of your health and stay happy (SMOOCHIIEEE FOR YOUUU😚😚😚😚).

You know faye, I thought of this after watching Teamies new year content where harua acted arrogant towards Taki (Oh I'm waiting for his acting debut).

Harua is the student council president who is known to be fierce but also a bit arrogant. Many students respect him because of his position. I imagine you're a girl who often causes trouble at school, making Harua a little fed up with you. Without him knowing, you have deeper feelings for him, you often look for trouble to get his attention. Imagine when you are jealous of a flirtatious girl who can be close to him. Because of your emotions, you hit the girl until she passed out (fainted), which of course made Harua very angry because of your actions. But when he yelled at you for your behavior, you just kept quiet and didn't answer him, but your gaze was so sad. "I also want your attention, haru," You said that when he stopped yelling at you.

Oh I hope this can be a bit of smut content hehe 😳

Student Body President!Harua x Trouble Maker Reader🔞❤️‍🩹

WC: 1816 

TW: Smut, Angst, slight fingering, unprotected sex but no cuming inside, Penetration, violence, not proof read, let me know if I forgot anything! 

A/N: Smoochies back bebes 😘😘😘, and yes I don’t know why but seeing Harua and Taki in that video DID things to me 

Attention. That’s all you wanted, just some form of attention no matter what kind it was. Being in a household where you didn’t get any led you to be like that, always just casted off to the side. Acting out was the only way you knew to get it, and Harua was the main person who always offered it to you. Even if it’s him lecturing you, you grew addicted to it, because finally someone was paying attention to you. Finally someone was acknowledging your existence, it also didn’t help that you had a crush on him since the beginning of the school year. Because of this you started to act out even more. Always skipping class, cheating on homework and tests, even starting fights with others just to keep his eyes on you. 

Seeing him focus on other girls, and then taking him away made you furious which oftentimes led you to doing even worse things just to get it back. But you tried to hold back as best as you could, but you just couldn’t. You finally had someone in your life who had noticed you, and you couldn’t let that go, you can’t let that because if you did you would once again be alone. And it was hard considering not only was he the student council president but he was also super popular in school. Even having his own fanclub that followed him everywhere he went. It was like a constant battle over his attention. You soon grew tired of it, everything you tried isn't working anymore. Noticing how he was slowly losing interest and stopped paying attention to you. It created a whirlwind of emotions entering a dark territory and panicking over it.

You tried to talk to your parents last night about it but they just shoo’d you away and said they were too busy for you. And that they can’t be bothered with such things. With your emotions already at an all time high because of last night with your parents. Walking into that class the next day was your final straw, you had officially snapped. Some random girl who was a part of his fanclub was next to him. Not just that but she was really close to him, her hand on Harua’s shoulder, twirling her hair with a stupid fucking smile on her face, batting her way to big false eyelashes. And the fact that he was just letting her do it, as if he was enjoying it. 

Seeing nothing but red you made your way towards them, Harua turning around to see you and calling out your name. But you didn’t hear, raising your fist and grabbing the girl by her shirt's collar. Slamming your hand down, knuckles making contact with her cheek bone, the girl screamed out in pain. Everyone in the class witnessed the scene in pure shock, Harua screaming your name out telling you to stop. But you couldn’t stop, your body was on autopilot, pinning her to the ground and just wailing on her until Harua had pulled you off. Grabbing your wrist and pulling you off, even pushing you even further away causing you to slam into a few desks. He crouched down to the girl, pulling her close to him as she was barely even conscious. 

He whipped his head around, staring daggers into you with such disdain, a look he’s never given you. Like you were some kind of disgusting psychotic monster, “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH!?” he shouted. He never did that before, he never raised his voice at you, feeling your throat tighten trying to hold back your tears. “I get you pride yourself in being the fucking ‘troubled student’ but that doesn’t give you an excuse to fucking hurt people Yn!”, you tried to say something, anything but you couldn’t. You knew you shouldn’t have but, how could he say that to you? Doesn’t he know you’re hurting too? Why does he…

Seeing Harua turn away from you and back to the girl, who he still held in his hands. It made you sick, “I hate you” the three words escaping your lips, barely even in a whisper. Harua just looked at you, “what?”, “I hate you” you said louder this time, the tears finally breaking free. Taking Harua off guard a little, he never expected you to say that to him, but his other side told him to not pay attention since you were in the wrong here. “I also want your attention Harua, how…how can you not notice” you choked out, the pain being evident in your voice. He didn’t know what to say, a part of him knew he shouldn’t take what you said seriously, but the other part…the other part of him wanted to hug you. You looked so hurt, so broken which was such a contrast to your usual self. Running out the door to get away from everyone, to find somewhere to hide from all of the eyes. Not noticing that Harua had instinctively got up and ran after you. 

You ran into a storage room, slamming the door shut and slumping down into a corner. Pulling your knees close to your chest as you cried silently to yourself, finding it difficult as the pain was just too much. Not even hearing the door open and close, when Harua stepped in and saw you sitting there he felt his heart strain. He crouched in front of you, reaching out and patting your head softly. “Yn?” he called out gently trying to get you to look at him, but you refused, instead pulling your knees closer to you. He let out a little sigh, prying your hands from around your knees, scooting closer to you and cupping your cheeks. Tilting your head up to look at him, seeing your state, hair a mess, nose and cheeks red from all of the crying. Fixing your hair and pushing it behind your ears, as he placed his forehead against yours. Brushing his nose against yours as he whispered an apology, saying he shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Wiping away your tears as you let out broken sobs that you just wanted his attention, that you didn’t want it on anybody else. 

Your sudden confession shocked him, but he also knew subconsciously that the reason you did the things you did was because of that. And truth be told he didn’t mind, but what you didn’t know was that his eyes were always on you, even when you weren’t doing anything. Not saying a word Harua crashed his lips against yours. Sitting there surprised, your body frozen still trying to process what was happening. Drawing back slightly, still close to you as he looked into your eyes. You wrapped your hands on the back of his neck, pulling him in and kissing him back this time. Your lips moving against each other in perfect sync, pushing you down so you were now laying on your back. Positioning himself in between your legs, hands flying everywhere, tugging at one another’s clothes. Finally having your underwear thrown off, and his long forgotten. His hand trailing down and making contact with your clit, moving down to gather the juices that were already leaking from you. Spreading it around your pussy lips and rubbing your clit, moaning against his lips never departing from each other. 

Clawing at his button up shirt, your own hand finding its way to his semi hard cock, wrapping your fingers around it and giving it a squeeze before moving your hand up and down. Using his pre-cum as lubrication, breathy moans escaping him as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it away. “Can’t m’wait anymore” he groaned out, lining his thick cock head to your entrance, looking in your eyes for permission before he slid in. You lifted your head slightly to peck his lips, signaling that it was okay. He rubbed his tip from your hole to your clit, after a few times and you whining for him to put it in. He finally did, pushing his tip against your tight hole, penetrating you with his head which already sent a mix of pleasure through you from the stretch. He eased his length into your wet hungry cunt, minding not to go too quickly in fear of hurting you. As soon as he bottom out completely in, both of you realising moans from the pleasure of it. He struggled to keep his composure and not cum right away, but the way your walls sucked him made it close to impossible. 

Pulling out slowly and thrusting back in just as slow, he kept up his movements for a while. Until you started to wiggle your hips around, raising them up to match his hips to get him to go faster. He picked up what you were trying to do, grabbing your waist and holding you still he started to slam his hips down. The sound of skin slapping against one another resonating throughout the room, your moans getting drowned out as he pressed his lips against yours. Leaving wet messy open mouthed kisses, his tongue wrestling around with yours. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer to you, one of his hands sliding underneath your shirt and groping your breast through your bra. Feeling both of your highs building up, he never stopped. Trying to hold back his release, wanting you to cum first, he angled his hips slightly, the act causing his tip to brush right against your sweet spot. A loud moan being ripped out of your throat, your eyes rolling back from the intensity as his thumb also started to rub your clit in tight harsh circles. 

Your lower stomach muscles tightened, your legs shaking as your grip on his shirt tightened. You wet soft walls clenching around him feeling the pleasure take over you as your vision went white from the intense orgasm. He instantly pulled out of you, quickly jerking his dick off as white spurts of his release coated your thighs and swollen pussy. His body slumped against yours, laying on top of you as you both tried to catch your breath. He rolled over and pulled you close to him, running his fingers through your hair as he pressed a sweet loving kiss against your nose. You nuzzled close to him, mumbling a sorry against his neck, he only held you closer. “Don’t apologize”, he said resting his chin on your head, rubbing comforting shapes against your back. He didn’t say much after that, but the way he held you, you knew what he felt. Being held by him brought a new found comfort to you, now not wanting just negative attention from him. But wanting the positive kind, and he was sure to start showing it to you from now. 

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! I am in the mood for some new (to me) music. Do you have any recommendations for songs that make you want to dance? No limits on genre or language, but if you're sending me a link to a specific music video please give me a heads up if it has flashing lights (if possible). Thanks!

[ohmylcve]

they were both there, and that was enough.

how many times had maisie avoided being present, dodging the clarity of her feelings for julian—feelings that shouted at her, relentless and undeniable, that the love she kept locked away was far from simple? living in the moment was easy when she was with him, but confronting the truth behind those moments was absolutely terrifying. it meant risking everything, opening doors she wasn’t ready to step through. she had convinced herself it was safer that way, easier to pretend. now, though? there was no pretending. this time, they were heading toward something neither of them could deny. here, in this moment, they’d created a space where nothing else mattered. maisie, who had spent years helping others navigate their turning points, could finally see her own. moments like this could change everything—she’d always known that in theory. but now, living it? she felt it in her chest, in her bones. this wasn’t just her moment; it was theirs. it was a beginning they had both been too afraid to take before, but now, they were stepping into it how they should, how they always did: together.

his touch was was subtle, but it was also an unmistakable claim.

the grip of his hand on her neck sent shivers coursing through her whole body, a sensation so intense it felt as though she were experiencing his touch for the very first time. and yet, it was familiar. known. a touch free of the restraints they had both clung to for far too long. as their lips met, maisie felt both weightless and grounded. his fingers against her skin, a touch she couldn't ignore, a silent declaration she didn't know she craved until now. she hadn’t expected this so far—not now, and definitely not like this—but as the sweetness of his kiss mixed with the faint taste of the smoke they’d shared earlier, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. her heart hammered against her chest, not just from the kiss itself but from the flood of emotions it carried with it. this was julian—her julian—and yet, this was something entirely new. every hesitation, every unspoken word they had carefully buried, was unraveling with every passing second. maisie felt herself sink deeper into the kiss, not just giving in to it but choosing it, choosing him. for the first time, she allowed herself to want without restraint, to feel without fear.

if only julian knew how weak maisie was to the simple press of a hand on her waist... and this was entirely something else, because it wasn’t just anyone—it was julian. his touch deliberate and full of intention, pulling her into something they had both been too afraid to admit they wanted. the kiss took on the personality it had been hiding: desire, hunger, craving. maisie felt as though she were falling, weightless and untethered, but instead of fear, she felt exhilaration. she leaned in, letting herself go completely. his grip tightened, grounding her even as she melted into him, and she moved instinctively, shifting to move on top of him, as if closing the distance could somehow satisfy the ache burning inside her. she wanted to feel all of him—not just the press of his lips, not just the electric slide of their tongues in a battle neither cared to win,—but the heat and stability of his, surrounding her completely.

the kiss deepened, every brush of his lips against hers sending a shiver down her spine, a heat curling low in her stomach. he held her like she was fragile and precious, yet too vital to let go. it was overwhelming and consuming, yet it wasn’t too much—it was everything she had been denying herself, everything she hadn’t dared to dream about. her hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring her to him even as the walls she had built began to crumble. "julian," she calls his name like a prayer, soft and yet desperate. "julian," she says it once more, against his lips as her arms are now around his neck, claiming the new territory as her own while they're diving into that. "i'm not afraid anymore" she confesses, her voice barely a whisper against his lips, yet carrying the weight of everything unsaid. in his arms, she realizes that the fear was never truly about him—it was about herself, about how much she had buried to protect herself from vulnerability. there’s a freedom in giving in to this, to the connection they share, and it feels like stepping into a new version of herself. she pulls him closer, her body pressed tightly against his, not wanting to leave any space between them. the heat building between them isn't just physical; it's emotional, raw, and honest in a way she’s never allowed herself to be. her chest tightens, heart racing, not with doubt but with a fierce certainty. this is real. this moment, this feeling—it's everything she’s wanted, everything she’s kept hidden in the quiet corners of her heart, and now it's all flooding to the surface.

julian’s thoughts were a haze of contradictions, tangled in the smoke and the moment. he didn’t know how they got here, or maybe he did, and he was just too much of a coward to admit it. it wasn’t just the high, though that helped blur the edges of his usually sharp mind. it wasn’t just the way the dim light painted maisie in a thousand shades of softness he hadn’t let himself acknowledge before. no, it was more than that—some cosmic trickery, some long-buried thing surfacing with every breath she took, every laugh, every trace of her fingers across his skin. she was laughing now, that low, nervous chuckle that did something to his chest he couldn’t quite explain. the kind of laugh that cracked through the wall he’d built around himself piece by piece. maisie didn’t know—couldn’t know—that every one of her gestures, her glances, her smallest movements, had been cemented in his memory for years. he wasn’t just watching her now; he’d always been watching her, filing away every detail like they might disappear if he didn’t.

her touch was soft, tentative, tracing his jawline like she was trying to memorize him. he let her, let her fingers graze his cheek and his nose and his brow like she was sketching a map of him, and he was powerless to stop it. he wanted to tell her to stop, maybe, but the words didn’t come. or maybe he didn’t want her to stop at all. her eyes found his, and for a moment, time folded in on itself. it was just the two of them, her breath mingling with his, the world outside dissolving into the background hum of the movie they weren’t watching. he could feel her hesitation, her tension, but also her resolve, as if she’d finally decided to stop running from something they’d both been too scared to name. when her lips finally brushed his, it wasn’t just a kiss. it was years of words unspoken, of feelings denied, of barriers shattered in an instant. it was a promise and a question all at once, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, julian wasn’t worried about what came next. he wasn’t thinking about the risks or the fallout or how this might unravel everything they’d built together.

he was just here, with her, and that was enough.

julian’s grip at the back of maisie’s neck, firm but deliberate, had lingered from earlier, a silent anchor in the haze of their shared high. it had been instinctive at first—keeping her steady as he passed the last curl of smoke from his lips to hers—but now it served a different purpose entirely. it was a tether, a way to keep her close, to make sure this moment didn’t slip away into the ether like so many before it. as their lips melded, his fingers flexed slightly, tightening against her skin, a subtle but unmistakable claim. he hadn’t planned this—hell, he never planned anything when it came to maisie—but now that he was here, tasting the faint sweetness of her lips and the remnants of the smoke they’d shared, he didn’t know how to stop. he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. his free hand hovered, unsure where to land, before finally finding its place at her waist, pulling her just a little closer. it was as if he needed the connection, the proof that this wasn’t some elaborate hallucination conjured by the haze of the joint. and then, without hesitation, his tongue darted out, testing, tasting her, like he was searching for some unspoken truth in the way her lips parted for him.

the kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, but with an edge of hunger he couldn’t quite disguise. julian wasn’t a man who gave himself away easily, but this—this was different. every movement, every shift of his mouth against hers, felt like a revelation, a confession he couldn’t put into words. his thoughts, usually so quick and sharp, were a jumble of sensations and emotions he couldn’t quite untangle. all he knew was that this moment, this connection, felt like the most real thing he’d had in years.

[creativesplat]

That scene from A Tale of Two Stars, from Stan's perspective.

[amelikos]

"Maybe they actually liked their pseudonyms, after all?"

[medicinemane]

At least I could disable the suggestions but just... I'm sick of it, I'm sick of companies trying to think for me

I'd rather be miserable but doing shit my own way than placid and glass eyed and just taking whatever companies tell me to

Like... literally just asking what I get out of writing a post on tumblr... zero suggestions, just letting me say whatever dumb stuff comes to my head