#*january. wtv

[bpointsplatling]

in honour of pride month shoutout to agent 24 redraws of oe concept art

gotta be one of my favourite genders

[strxnged]

boyfrin

[banghwa]

birthday boys 🎂

[genderqueer-karma]

presenting my book to an audience of my peers has informed of who is safe to say certain things around

[bajisaiii]

i've briefly spoken about this girl before but now that everything is coming out about her i figured i'd just share the rest of my experience. (tw: death/necrophilia)

qadence & i became mutuals earlier this year (february 15th), she followed me out of the blue one day & was commenting on my stuff so i followed her back bc why not yk? she started out super nice, complimenting me, starting convos, etc. so fast forward a couple of months, i make a tiktok about my girlfriend who passed a week before my birthday in january (which is still up on my tt). she goes to comment and say "damn she's sexy" which i took that as her not reading the caption because several people said something similar. she deleted her comment after i replied with dots, so she messages me and told me that she didn't know she passed, etc. so i just said okay and moved on.

i never talked to her about anything too personal because you literally never know what she could tell people or wtv but one time we did talk about like her dynamic w the team and she was trash talking them lowkey like saying they'd leave her out of stuff, etc. and it's just like??? BE FUCKING SERIOUS. but about a month after, she started being hella weird towards me over sexualizing my gf & saying how if she wasn't deceased, she'd wanna be with her & be intimate ... but everytime she'd send something like that to me, she'd delete it soon as i saw it because she knew what she said was disgusting. so when all that stuff came out about her liking caroline harvey, i knew people would start to catch onto her true personality or at least people who have common sense.

i commented on a tiktok about her being a terrible person and she blocked me shortly afterwards, she was also so bitter and rude about the whole jersey number thing. like i didn't even KNOW u before uconn and how she thinks nika stole her jersey number (10)..

in conclusion, of cou i'm blocked now but this is only my story and it still affects me deeply because of how everything unfolded. if you're still a supporter of her, i truly hope you come to some kind of sense & realize how vile she is.

& to add on to my post, i believe that lili was WAY too gracious to be #her friend.

[firefly--bright]

come january. (2)

jean kirstein x fem!reader, modern au. part two of this fic.

summary ; to love someone is to know someone, fully, wholly, and jean fulfills this, wholly, knowingly.

warnings ; badly written smut, MDNI. ive never written smut before so its probably going to be bad. please tread carefully. literally the most vanilla sex u can ever imagine. too wordy.

a/n ; as said before ive never done this before and i really dont think writing smut is my forte with my writing style? but. i've had ideas and i just wanted to explore the idea of writing it. as practice. or wtv. so if you dont like it pls feel free to not interact at all OR leave a constructive criticism in my askbox/messages.

taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @happxme , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes , @gojo-ana , @ppushable

again, MDNI. any and all minors who interact with this post will be blocked! this is a direct part two of this post, so reading it within context would be better :D

masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist! ✿

middle tile art creda to @yuka-levi on twt!

Everything happens. Universes are created, ended, made again. Strings – thick, usually unbreaking and strong, snap apart when his lips are on yours and you lose everything you ever thought you might had in him. And it belongs there, you think, because it feels right.

You pull apart, breaths heavy, hearts lighter, burrowed in each other's chests so deeply that it would take a skilled surgeon to replace them again. Your smile is still present on your face, gentle, whole, and your smile makes him smile even if his eyes are closed. There's a distance pop followed by a big bright flash of beautiful golden and you open your eyes, turning to the source. Fireworks. Another one, farther away, flashes out in all its glory, looking like the birth of a star. Jean’s head rests on your shoulder, his hands cupping your cheek, not taking his eyes away from you, watching the light dance on your features, lighting the tip of your nose and side of your cheek, kissing the corner where your ear meets your jaw because he finally can. Because he wants to, because he finds himself present there, with you and against you.

You inhale as his kisses spread further down your neck, your heart beating with the numerous fireworks in the sky only for you to realise that the new year was here and he was by your side, on your side just as he was supposed to be. You turned and his kisses trailed to the apple of your cheeks, to where your smile met your eyes.

“jean.” You said, your voice overlapping the boom of the firework, and jean hummed, his lips resting on your forehead, unmoving and you could feel his own soft smile on your skin. His hands cup your jaw, and yours lay on his cheek, guiding his eyes to meet yours again.

“happy new year.” You say, and he swallows the sound of your voice, proving your existence to be heard and seen. “happy new year.” He echoes, proving his own life, breathing it into you. “I love you.” your smile turns softer. You echo back, “I love you too, jean.” You thumb rests on his cheek, his eyes fluttering close, brows furrowing slightly, his breath on yours, and he thinks about how his name has always been yours to say, thinking briefly about changing his name so that no one but you could say it, utter himself into his being.

But he doesn’t because you’ll have him as he is, and his lips are on yours again because he wants to taste how it feels like to be. You lean back with the force of his lips, humming shortly into him, goosebumps covering your skin as his hand grazes over your thigh, keeping you in your reality, locking you into a promise, into a routine that he wouldn’t change. You loose focus, his eyelashes feel nice against yours, his hands feel warm on you, his hair feels so soft under your hands and he feels twice more real than anything ever has and ever could. He kisses you with soft force, wanting you to know that you still have choice, but knowing you’d choose him. Over and over again.

His tongue mingles with yours, no hesitance behind his teeth, nothing that could make him reluctant. Second nature. Muscle memory. You allow him just the same, a small noise escaping your throat not in disagreement but with just the opposite. His hand leaves your thigh to support you as you lean further back, unable to hold yourself up for longer. You pull back, his lips still following your every move.

“we should- we...inside?” you ask, loosing coherence, but jean catches the meaning you throw away so easily. He nods against yours, and you feel your noses bump.

climbing down is muscle memory. Second nature. Routine, whatever you want to call it, but the moonlight at hushed words that were exchanged made it become more of a shrine of itself that it really was. Like always, like all the times before this one where you were less hidden but also less seen, jean helps you down. you climb with your feelings in your throat, your love spilling everywhere you'd touch, which makes you grab his hand with even more fervor as he helps you down, slipping in the room from the ledge.

Sitting on the edge of the bed of the spare guest room, you catch your breath. Jean stands near the window, supporting himself on it after closing it, trying keeping his own breath controlled, enjoying the view. He cant stop the smile that seems to now find his home on his lips without care. He’d get your lips tattooed on the inside of his ribs if he, carve your name that was always meant to be his into his bones so in the future, after being buried next to you, they’d be in a museum for people to connect the dots themselves.

Seconds pass. They feel like hours, and he leaves his spot on the window, kneeling infront of you, placing one hand beside you and one on your knee, travelling up slowly, finding god in the way your expression shifted so easily and openly infront of him, your breath hitching, leaning down to capture his lips again. Its different this time, if only a little, because the gentle warmth had progressed into a proper temperature, you think, as you rest your hand on the junction between his neck and his shoulder, your other one drawing soft shapes into his back despite the weight of the kiss. His tongue was on yours again, stealing all the words you thought you could speak but giving them their home anyway. Gasping as he pulled away, all control is left to be picked up by the wind as he leans over you, pressing himself onto you, your back hitting the soft mattress gently, his lips touching every part of you that was exposed, kissing the lines of your collarbones, every vein and muscle that was hidden, ashamed under your skin igniting with colours that you didn’t know existed. “jean,”

He hummed on your skin again, his voice cracking. He supported his weight on his arm that held itself next to your head, his eyes closed into you, feeling your own hands everywhere on himself, warmth spreading across his body. His hand lifts your leg up, his hand moving upward, feeling the rest of your body, the parts you hadn’t shown.

“jean, wait-“ you say. He pulls apart instantly, concern clouding his features as he peers at you, his lips still close to yours. speaking takes a lot of control, something you try to seize after everything he’s done to make you forget it exists, “the door.” You mutter, your hand on his jaw. He pauses, glancing at the lock that was left open before, and nods reluctantly. He doesn’t want to let go, and you agree, and you’re sure he knows it because your hand is still in his hair as he gets up. You do, too, opting to use the time to pull the zipper of your dress down.

If this was someone else – not that you’d want it to be – you’d have preferred to be more lost in the moment, but this was jean. Your jean, where every moment spent with him was spent lost within it. So you’d take your time because you had it. He wasn’t going anywhere – this was routine. Second nature, and jean turned back around from locking the door, breathing in to calm himself down again despite knowing that his breath was going to quicken, and it did. Or maybe he just lost all of it. All his thoughts stilled, only one ringing out in his ears along with his fastening heartrate, his cheeks red.

You're beautiful. With your clothes now pulled away, leaving you with your undergarments and the dim but present light shrouding your figure, lighting your hair, a small smile playing on your face.

You're beautiful. not that you weren't before but this - closest to divinity, closest to himself. Matching your state, jean decides to join you by removing his vest and the shirt that was underneath all in one swipe, while still taking long strides towards where you sat. his lips found yours as if they had never left, resuming your positions. Your hands find themselves undoing his belt as he presses kisses – soft, beautiful, full of words he couldn’t spell out – unclasping the hook of your bra with one hand, his own hands going down your back, tracing your spine that arched slightly, covered in goosebumps. Not because of the cold but because of how warm his touch was, because you were sure no-one had come close to the amount of softness that he held towards you. his lips were the complete opposite, his kisses fleeting but solid, sloppy but definite, sure of himself, of the fact that he wanted this – you. just you. everything with you.

He pulls away again and you suppress a whine, but he doesn’t go far – just enough to remove his trousers comfortably, throwing them somewhere on the floor along with the rest of his belongings. He doesn’t need them anymore because he has you and he belongs here, with you, more than he belongs with anything else he attaches himself with. Your pupils are blown wide and he sees the admiration in them, smirking when he catches you looking at him, your eyes going over every part of him without so much as an ounce of shame, unabashedly, maybe even a little proud.

He looks like god. His chest, well built moves up and down rapidly, his forearms outlining his veins, the slant of his chest that connected to his shoulders looked the closest to belonging you had ever felt. You shuddered as your eyes went even further down, taking in the contour of his dick, the fabric pulled taught, snapping your eyes to his again. And there lay your favorite view, even after seeing almost everything he had offered with simple actions and simpler existence, his eyes were always your favorite part – lit up but gauging your reaction, glazed over with everything he wanted.

“like what you see, beautiful?” he asks, leaning forward again, hovering over you with the same smile. your knees locked against either side of his waist, and you pull him in by the back of his neck to shut him up. “need what I see.” you whispered, your lips spelling it out on his own. He lifted your thigh, giving in.

his hands are everywhere. They're all your know, you're sure your skin could remember every callus and scar on them because of it. One settles on your hip, finally, the other still taking its time roaming on you, claiming its place near your upper thigh. His thumb his feather light, shadowy, whispering against the hem of your underwear, making you gasp. There's a spark in you that threatens to grow into something more, and you don’t know where to put your own hands. One circles his neck, playing with the ends of his hair – something that makes him stutter his movements. Your other hand, however, has plans of its own, carrying itself over to the waistband of his trunks, sliding further down, grazing the outline you had studied before. He grunts next to your ear. He licks his lips, his voice husky when he whispers into your ear, “god, you’re so beautiful.”

Not giving you a chance to reply if you even had one ready, he melts you into putty, his warm lips circling your nipple. Your strings are fraying, and his hand that had been resting on your hips is on your waist now, and you feel your voice calling out to him, pleading.

The spark grows, a knot forming in your core, “want- please, jean-“

“im yours, love.” He rasps, his tongue swirling around, making you gasp. You cupped your hand where it was, his size making another round of shivers run down your spine, his whimper on your breast, your skin soaking every sound as if it would save you from further decomposition, pulling the hem of his underwear down, feeling the size of his cock against you now. The spark evolves itself into something greater and you moan, his hand pushing your underwear aside. Whatever the spark was is now long gone, increasing its size into a fire, consuming your body, making your skin feel hot. He calls out your name, strained, gentle.

Your heart beating was probably the only proof of you being in this moment; the rest of your being had been fully consumed by jean, his lips sucking your neck, feeling your pulse in his mouth, trying with all his might to not give you everything he had, even if he was sure you already had it, drawn out and in front of him. He pulled you closer to him, your thighs hooked around his waist so you could feel him, and he could feel you, ready and wanting and waiting, your whimpers reaching his ears, settling in his chest, making him move, his muscles rippling with effort, all of which you could feel under your trembling fingers, gripping his shoulders with force as he pushed himself into you, filling you completely, slowly, wholly.  

Everything opened. Sounds felt a little like they were underwater, and it took you a while to accommodate him, his hips grazing yours, and he was saying something. You exhaled shakily and everything closed again, and you could hear him clearly now, his voice the only thing that could guide you.

“feels..so good, sweetheart-“ he says, his tone being something you hadn’t heard from him before. you like it, enjoy it more than the moment youre caught up against. His voice slinks against your body, deep and uncontrolled because it was with you and for you, his lips nest to the cup of your ear making sure you could feel each syllable at its peaks and lows. “tu es fait pour moi, mon amour.” He rasps. You don’t know what he means, but you can feel it with the way his hands circle your clit. It feels like he’s worshipping you – every part of you being looked at gently, just as you were supposed to, and he feels like prayer to you because his name is the only thing you know how to speak. You repeat it with your eyes fluttering closed, feeling the fire turning, meeting something new.

Your mouth only sings of him. Its muscle memory as he pushes inside you again, guiding your thigh delicately and you want to burrow yourself into him, let him sink into you like he’s doing for the rest of how much ever youre allowed to have. The flame heats you up from the inside, spreading across every part of your body once again and if you’ve felt like this before, this overtakes. You don’t know what to call it – feelings and words other than the moment feel far away and untouched.

you hardly have the time to ask him what it means, lost in the way he feels. Spark. Flame? Youre not sure what it is, hardly sure of what you are either, he’s pushing in you now, grunting softly beside your ear, and whatever that was is growing now, fast. “god, love-“ “jean,” the two of you say at the same time, his voice sending shivers down your warm spine, everything is spinning. This feeling isn’t routine, isn’t something you’ve ever felt before but you welcome it as if it was a part of your own body. He pushes in again, everything builds up and crumbles at the same time. Thoughts are broken, sentences are just strings of words and he fills you, fully. Again. Tightening, beauty that comes close to discomfort only if it weren’t with him. It feels right.

he says your name breathily, his voice strained like he’s been thinking about saying it for a longer time than this. “I’m g’nna.. oh,” he says, and his voice is the only thing that you can hold onto beside himself, your hand gripping his hair while the other one roamed in the limited space between his shoulder and toned arms, nails scratch, and scratching his skin just enough to leave light, red marks, that matched the blush on his cheeks. “can i- sh…uh,” he says, making you blink him into focus, a tear rolling down your cheek. Your heart squeezes when his face becomes clearer, his brows knit tight. “I’m sorry,” he says, barely a whisper, only the proof of one. You shake your head gently, your hand freeing itself from his hair and resting on his cheek, thumbing the tear away. “jean… it’s okay, love.” “im, I just… never felt this before?” he explains, or tries to at least, grasping onto the only meaning he could find – you. his hand clasping your thigh. His hand near your head, strands of your hair under his thumb. He breathes, ribs turning putty, heart molding itself around your hand, creating a cast. That’s where it belongs, he thinks. “I know. I haven’t either.” You confirm. Theres two of you now, worlds apart from where everyone else would be, and he looks at you, your eyes holding that sheen on them, cheeks stretched with a small smile and thinks about how unbroken the moment was. No space between your bodies, comfortable unpredictability. His bones hum with familiarity, being this close to you - sending something close to electricity but far more close to divinity into his heart. He nods, kissing the corner of your mouth. Then your jaw. Then your forehead.

“don’t hold back.” You tell him, unafraid. He nods, heart spurring.

Warmth, heat, spreading across your body and he goes a little faster, and you feel him everywhere, deeply, and your noises are only controlled by the barrier of your lips being bit by your teeth, something jean impossible notices, oulling your chin gently by his thumb. “don’t hold back on me either,” he’s so close to you.

So close. Your grip on his shoulder tightens, leaving a mark, his name leaving your mouth, freeing itself from wherever it was within you as if it was a part of you. he says your name just the same, his voice carrying out in the confines of the room, striking a chord only you can hear, only meant for you to understand. Your name has never felt like yours until he’s said it, like this, your back lifting, stomach touching his, and you feel the world collapsing, building. Flame turned into fire turned into smoke, your body shaking, sounds coming from your mouth merging with his and it stays there, unbroken, devouring, overwhelming. He’s out of you in what feeling like an instant but youre sure is slow, caring but time doesn’t make sense to you. the sheets under your legs are soaked, your muscles aching comfortably, unpredictably.

Your chest heaves, up and down, as does his, almost in sync. His strength sways as his body almost collapses onto yours, devouring, overwhelming, the scent of his rundown cologne and sweat and shampoo mixing into yours. devouring, overwhelming.

His lips are on your collarbone. You laugh with the little strength you have and jean drinks it up, a smile etching itself on his pink lips, his skin red. “we should.. do that more often.” You say. Your eyes closed, hand in his hair and he hums, nodding his head slightly, something you feel.

and this continues, becoming more than just a moment in your life, increasing itself into something that becomes your being. His knee bent, getting comfortable, and your thigh rests on his own, feeling his muscles underneath yours, skin to skin. It feels akin to holiness, but gods don’t have skin like you and jean. That’s their curse, you think, because you’d want to be human just to feel something like this again, no space between the two of you, legs entangled, warm, devouring, overwhelming, comfortable. If this was a new routine, you’d appreciate it for all the times to come.

His hand is pinned under your back and he lifts his head from your shoulder, resting It near your head, hair escaping and spilling next to yours. all of your parts meeting his. His eyes look at yours and you want to consume the look in them, something you wish was possible, but then he speaks and you think it is possible because his tone is the same as the way he looks at you – soft. Warm. Shining. “this may be the post nut clarity talking, but you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything that was right in front of me.”

Oh. Okay. He's saying what he wants to say, out of control, chest beating unexpectedly in control. A confession like this, under normal circumstances, would’ve been around in his head for about a week before actually having the bravery to speak it into existence, make it known. But with the prior fact already known – because it was you, of course you’d know – it was easy to say, and with that logic, everything became easy with you. not untethered but the exact opposite, everything was easy because it was connected and all of everything lead to you. always did. You breathe out shakily.

You kiss the crease between his brows, soothing it permanently, easing his features. You’ve never been good with words. When morning (or better yet, judging by how everything played out right now and how late it was, late afternoon) rolled around, jean was sure to have either a bouquet of flowers or an inexpensive gift with a full-fledged letter sitting on his desk, waiting for him in compensation. Either the letter or a text, you weren’t sure, the plan formulating in your head ass he breathed beside you, his breath fanning the side of your face.

you turn your face to his, opening your eyes again, looking into his. “if I told all of this to last year-me, I would’ve never believed it,”

He smirks. “cant believe you bagged the jean kirstein?” you scoff. “I hated your guts, I would’ve thrown up and asked myself what present-me was even thinking getting with that jean guy.” “oh,” he says, softly, his smirk slipping off his face comically. You laugh a little, shifting to your side to rest comfortably. His body shifts with yours, his hand now on the slight dip of your waist, thumb brushing your stomach.

“but present-me would tell her that I think… youre the most passionate and brave person I’ve ever met. And you make me laugh.” “its no that hard, y’know-“ “just take the compliment.” “yes ma’am.” He says, smiling drowsily, blinking slowly. You could capture his mouth in a kiss right now but you preferred to have it in front of your eyes instead of your lips. For now, of course. The promise of being able to see the same face with the same smile would mean you could kiss his lips and feel his mouth all over again, hundreds of times, like a beautiful predictability. Routine. He clears his throat. “thank you.” he says. You hum, gently, jean feels the vibrations of your voice against the thrum of his heart. He keeps it there.

“what… what else would you tell your past-self about… about that jean guy?” he asks, mainly to hear your voice again, under the guise of forgetting it every time you don’t speak, but really, its because he needs your voice to build the rope that he balances on. His hand reaches your cheek, feeling your words fully. You hum under his touch, thinking. “id tell her that… that jean guy is fucking annoying-“ “name one time ive annoyed you-“ “and pretentious.” “I have never once-“ “d’you remember when we went to that art gallery and you said that you 'loved how the elements juxtaposed each other'?” “…yeah.” “I thought you were just trying to sound smart.” “…I was.” You giggle at his admission. His ears tinge red, unseen because of the dark but not unknown because youre here.

“but I’d tell past-me that that same jean guy also held me when I needed it without asking. Made me laugh when I needed it without asking.” Theres a beat of silence. Jean breathes in, consuming your entirety, and youre okay with it. “that… this jean guy thought that past-me hated him because he was a dick.”

“yeah, I did,” he breathes out a laugh, continuing, “but then he – I – grew used to you. grew to like you. grew because and with you. and now present-me knows that present-you is resilient and patient and stubborn enough to stick with me.” “yeah, I should get an award for that.” “yeah, yeah, I’ll get you one.” He says, pulling you in closer with his arms, burrowing your face in his neck.

The moment would be unbroken. Even if the two of you had gotten up, reluctantly, after a while, under the bursting of fireworks, jean cleaned you up and helped you slip into your clothes again, fixing your appearance best you could. The moment remained unbroken as he held your hand, kissing your knuckles when you reached downstairs, catching sasha dancing with nicolo, connie on the table, marco trying to pry him down but not really wanting it to end, eren hyping him up. mikasa was somewhere behind him, with a small smile on her face as she glanced at you and jean’s interlocked fingers. The moment went unbroken even after the night ended, everyone hungover and piled on the floor of you and sasha’s shared living room even though the latter wasn’t even in her own home (she later texted you, extensively, about what happened with her and nicolo),  and jean woke up with a one page (front and back. You tried to keep it under the set word limit in your head but couldn’t) letter and a singular flower (you couldn’t afford to splurge until after your paycheck arrived). The moment remained unbroken even ass connie groaned about his hurting head and jean made fun of him for the same fact, marco glancing between the space – or lack of it – between the two of you as jean stood with an arm around your waist (something he later revealed he was panicking about in, his own words, “I didn’t even think much of it, I just sorta, did it, y’know,” but his eyes wouldn’t look directly at yours and the tips of his ears were red, a telltale lie).

The moment remained unbroken. It always would. Details kept safe, sound, intact, even while you retold it to your closest friends after only some pestering. Even after jean mulled over it on the most important day of his life, playing with his ring, adjusting his suit.

The moment, all the words and anatomy of it, remained unbroken. Beautiful. Holy.

✿

< previous

[notlishaa]

my progress from january 2024 to now july 2024 still not at my goal weight but wtvs 💕

[fecto-forgo]

3, 6, 9, 12, 19?

have already answered 3 !

6.episode of tv or webisode that defined the year for you?

i only rly watched fionna and cake so if i had to pickkkk id say the winter king episode ! theres a reason its everyones favorite lmao.the farm world one is p cool too i just hope someone told finn where his kid went in the last episode 💔

9.best month for you this year?

(thought i had known someone for a couple weeks when we had met five months ago no concept of time) ...uhhh april bc it was easter n i get chocolate on easter.or back in july where i got a sprinkles candy apple n chocolate covered strawberries.or wtv month we had the most pizza.wait was getting free cake samples this year.WAIT WHENEVER MONTH MY MOMS BOYFRIENDS NEPHEW HAD A BIRTHDAY PARTY N SHE BOUGHT COCONUT CANDY N A CAKE SLICE BACK FOR ME.THAT SPIDERMAN CAKE WAS MAD GOOD EVEN THO THE DYE STAINED EVERYTHING

my adhd makes it rly hard to recall when events happened n when i demand a more time accurate memory it just gives me yummy food man 💔

12.talk about a new friend you made this year

hi kiki are you reading this are you reading this hi kiki hi kiki hi kiki are you reading this HI KIKI ARE YOU READING THIS.hi 🩷

19.what’re you excited about for next year?

i want.to eat a pavé :) or get the festa junina candies again.n also getting an easter egg.also i want to eat a cake.again my adhd memory loss n time perception r so severe i start getting upset if i notice i cant remember too many things so i just default to wanting food anyways LMAO

oh!!! oh actually im planning a mass sonic games playthrough once i finish my pokemon one!!! im excited abt that one :3

waittt is the next madoka movie next year...im excited if so i wanna see nagisa again i want her to have her magia record characterization so bad...

oh i also get to go to the cinema bc of sonic movie three!!! beyond my petty spite metal n amy were skipped im still excited

also i wanna see the zelda movie flop.wherever that is.

...i wanna get a milkshake in january also.

oh oh!!! alien stage next three videos from my calculations :333

[mqstermindswift]

we used to be inseparable

no one and/or nothing could get between us

i wanted to be talking to her 24/7

to be their bsf forever and always

we pretended i got married,she was famous,we always made those awesome inside jokes and laughed

we’d stay up late(due to time zones) talking to each other but for me it could be 8pm and for her 2am so i’d tell her to go to bed and the opposite

we spammed each other with emojis and js random stuff

supporting each others’ delusions

now it’s nowhere near that

idem what happened

it’s prolly my fault

i try but it’s not obvious yk?

make sense?

and maybe she’s not even feeling like this maybe it’s js my anxiety and overthinking

but rlly something is went down in january or wtv and now everything has changed but ik it’s not for the better

i love them they’re still my bsf but i want us to be like how we used to but i dunno if they want that too

i’m too scared and anxious to talk to them and ask

m js hoping that everything will go back to normal

i miss them and our friendship sm

i’ve been acting like such a bitch lately been a bit dry ig?

ughhh every time i get too close i js go mess it up

[churchscenefromdiaryofawimpykid2]

first post on here and im ngl this is lowkey old-ish like were talking january but wtv

#art #fanart #projectedensgarden #damonmaitsu #wolfgangakire #wolfmon #akiretsu #danganronpa #fanganronpa #tvgirl #whoreallycares #takingwhatsnotyours #album #music

[sinhal]

Id loveee to ask about wtv Sinhal Stockholm Syndrome/Lantern View, that sounds so interesting

this is two different fics set around the same time and space

Lantern View is six chapters long and focus on the lanterns (Kyle, Arisia, John, Guy, Kilowog, and Salakk) trying to find Hal. Sinhal Stockholm Syndrome is uh where Hal has been.

Salakk and Kilowog were arguing again, something inane about proper protocols. Kyle wasn’t paying attention, even as Kilowog bellowed and Salakk hit four of his fists on the table. They had been having these fights for a week now, ever since they realized what they had missed. Guy glared across the table, fingers rapping quickly on the floating desk. Next to him, Arisia’s ring glowed dangerously bright as her fingers twitched to grab Guy’s. Guy was very good at ignoring her, just like John was ignoring them all. John flicks his wrist to bring up another glowing screen-this time a map of sector 3008, the sector next to where Hal disappeared. He stares at the map, face blank.

They're not doing so well. They missed Hal being missing for 14 weeks (which they've done before in canon), so like they're worried.

and here is Sinhal <3 hal remembers nothing the poor dude

“My name is Thaal Sinestro of Korugar, leader of the Sinestro Corps. You…you have been a dear friend of mine for years. You trust me, and I trust you more than anyone else in the world.” That felt true, right inside. He feels the reverberation of similar words inside his head, like the memory of such similar words was a statue hidden under an opaque sheet. The shape seemed familiar even if he couldn’t remember the exact details.

the shape seems familiar because it was true. but only long ago <33 I need to work on this some more, I started this back in January.

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

look normally I wouldn’t even put anything on these anonymous things guys but I NEED to speak abt my situation to even more ppl, so in summary my crush of like 2-3 yrs HATES me instead of loving me💔💔

so in detailed I liked him a while ago but then the next year I didn’t like him like if he like was there, left, and then came back to me.

thsi year is when we actually started talking or last year around august, we talked m became the closest even if we didn’t talk that much during school but we would be calling and texting 24/7 both of us staying awake more time even if we are sleepy, just for eachother, and that’s how it was for like until January??

so o my gosh what happened is that both of us are EXACTLY the same, so we are both a bit to much for each other, we are both a bit yeaa.

N what being going is that he texts so dry, doenst repsond, doesn’t care like he used to but taht ok wtv

n on my notes TODAY like less than 4 hrs ago I put as a joke on my insta note “I hope u suffer alone w no one to help u” well not rlly as a joke but I’m a person whose mode is always switching and I’m telling u not one min later after I put that he put on his notes “yea nah” n well I was like oh this a coincidence right right but I was texting his friend whom is my friend as well and I was like “STOP DO U THINK HE THINKS ITS ABT HIM” w the ss of our notes side to side n he replies w this weird worded message “he knows he has me” n I was like “HUH WYM BY THIS??” N he was like “dw abt it “ n I was like “BRO TELL ME WHAT U MEAN OR UR GETYING BLOCKED” n he puts “it’s Nun of ur business” so simple as that I blocked him but I AHVENT blocked my honeybunch which is K MY GOSH I FOROGOT TO TELL U HOW IN SCHOOL BEFORE ALL THIS UHHH well I was WLAKING to my next period m he wa slike TRYNAN pass across the hallway to go to his class n I didn’t look at him obvi n like I moved my shoulder sideways so we wouldn’t bump but he had the audacity to bump into me but not a soft shoulder bump but a hard one when I’m telling u like if it was filled w anger n he wanted to punch me or sum cuz Nuh uhhh

but well a win is a win guys I’ll be in his head even if he hates me🥰🥰

but on a serious note fuck him

i think i went through the five stages of grief reading this dear god

lowkey reminds me of smth that happened to me in middle school minus the hatred … ermm anyway yeah fuck him!!!

[cocain3katesblog]

Ik this my Ed page but I just have to let this out there somehow. I just wanna let you the few ppl that follow me know who tired I am of fighting. I constantly have to battle my sadness and the way I do that is by not eating. I don’t eat so it can overwhelm the sadness. Everyday passes by but I still feel like I’m living the same day over and over again. I wish can’t handle this sadness anymore. I see my life from afar and I feel like I didn’t accomplish anything I feel like a background character in my own life story. How is this even possible ? I lost someone so dear to my heart and this January will be 2 years without them. I saw them struggle with feeling good down bc they were sick and I wouldn’t eat too so they didn’t feel alone in their battle. Now I can’t stop eating and think how I’ve let that person down. My own family even doesn’t like me. All the sudden they started to act like they care when that person passed. Even my own brother and father talk about me behind my back. I don’t want to physically harm myself bc I don’t want ppl to see how badly I’m struggling in the outside. I’d rather starve and suffer from the inside and slowly wither away like a wilted flower in the breeze. I hope no one finds this because I’m usually not the vulnerable type especially on social media but Ik this platform and the ppl that follow me share a similar story where it all started. I’m starving myself until I drop dead so I can just see that person again. I’m not brave enough to physically do anything to myself to end up dead so I decided to just waste away. That person was my main source of happiness and my only true friend. I can’t believe it took the passing of that persons death to realize that person was my entire world. I usually was able to sleep away the pain but now the pain has followed me into my dreams where I thought I could escape. I wake up crying or in my dreams I am crying and I can feel my facial expressions mimic crying. I don’t want help. I’m too far gone to be helped. Everyday I pray to god to just let me be free from the body and let me see that person one more time. I’d leave everything behind for that person. Every birthday wish, everyday New Year’s resolution, every night before I go to bed, I beg and plead to god to free me from this pain, this endless suffering. I told God to make that person better and I’ll do anything, anything! I’ll be a better person I’ll devote my life to the church I’ll detransition, I’ll do wtv it takes. In the end I guess my prayers weren’t heard. I cry almost everyday even when I laugh so hard I have tears running down my face for some reason I have the feeling to cry and just shut up and sit in silence. The day that person passed I looked in the mirror and saw someone else. Someone different. I didn’t recognize myself. I still don’t. I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s face. I don’t wish this on my worst fucking enemy. The loss of someone this close to you. I drown my sorrow by listening to sad music and reading poetry like Sylvia Plath and it does help for a little to know that someone in the world has felt this pain before and that I’m not alone but yet I look around and I see everything living their lives and I’m feel like I’m stuck. Maybe I deserve this torture. I put that person thru hell and back and even my own family says that I didn’t make their passing any easier. At the time I didn’t know to to express my feelings. How do you think a 15 year old highschool student is supposed to react to the news that someone you love is slowly passing away and you’re just watching? I was such a bad kid to that person and I’d do anything to have them back in my life. I want that person to hit me, yell at me, tell me how worthless I’ll be but at least I’ll that person would still be here. That person never hurt a single hair on my head and was just the sweetest soul a person can imagine. I still question why that person ? Why not me? Why did they have to suffer when I was the bad one? If I could , I’d be gone tmr but I can’t

[psychewritesbs]

Chapter 209: Offering to the Unknown--Chapter’s title + Haikyu!! + This is a chick, right? + Sukuna is a distraction + Takaba + Megumi’s confidence

Holy shit guys! Happy JJK-Sunday! Except the chapter dropped on King’s Day (my last name “is” De los Reyes), January 6th, so I’m late but wtv. Hope you ate some Rosca de Reyes por que la rellenan con cajeta chingada madre, yo quiero mi rosca original y sin cajeta!!! and that you had a great holiday season with the fam if you celebrate. 

A few random thoughts beneath the cut...

The chapter’s title

The implications are so juicy. What is this unknown?

The Culling Game is a ritual itself, so there’s this sense that everything is leading up to awakening or invoking some powerful force. 

I’ve been wondering if and when “God” is going to come into the picture.

Haikyu!!’s Kōrai Hoshiumi

Makes you wonder if Gege likes Haikyu!! 

This is a chick, right?

She’s hot. 

I get the feeling we’re going to see more of her.

Sukuna is a distraction

Not Ura Ume looking totally creepy about feeling pleased to have found a bath that will satisfy daddy Lord Sukuna.

But like... this whole Ura Ume + Kenny alliance, not only is it obvs that Kenny is keeping Ura Ume in the dark about his plans... 

Let’s not forget what Sukuna is to Kenny: a distraction to set off at just the right time.

Unless setting it off was back during Shibuya? Or even just the fact that he awakened is the distraction? Idk... to whomever reads this... thoughts?

Takaba

Quick flashback for context...

Dude... like... I'd love to see a poetic-justice type of ending for JJK from Gege because he’s so damn good at “poetic justice”. But... if by the end of JJK Takaba is the one who ends up saving the day because of his Cursed Technique, I will seriously simp Gege more than I do now.

Takaba is just... ridiculous in the best way possible.

And the whole irony of his character is fantastic because his jokes are SO BAD within the JJK world, but I get the sense that his bad jokes are meant to be funny to the audience BECAUSE they are so damn bad. So there’s this interesting breaking of the 4th wall with Takaba.

What’s more, if Takaba can own that he makes bad jokes and that’s what’s funny about him... he could become one of the most powerful sorcerers if only because he has a solid sense of self identity.

in a story like JJK where the strongest sorcerers have a solid sense of identity... Takaba owning that he is 70% unfunny and only 30% funny could be the most powerful weapon ever in the most ironical way possible.

I fucking love him.

Even Megumi is like...

Which brings me to...

Megumi’s confidence

This panel screams “I am confident that I can kick their asses”.

But Megumi’s confidence and sense of self has always been hit or miss. And as of the arc following Shibuya, it feels like he’s grown into his skills to the point where he can feel overly confident that he can accomplish what he sets out to do.

But this makes me wonder what Gege is going to throw at Megumi because he appears to have reached a plateau where things come easy to him because of his current mastery of his Cursed Technique... this could be a problem because the sense of self is dynamic, not static.

I think that for a lot of the Megumi stans like myself who identify with him, one of the reasons we identify with him is his journey of growth.

There’s this awesome post I reblogged (but like good luck finding it even if I tagged it) where op writes about Megumi and “gifted child syndrome” that I felt hit spot on on why those of us who love Megumi because of his arc relate to him so much. 

When you’re a “gifted child” everything comes easy. School, work, everything. The problem is that when everything comes easy, you never learn the value of struggle. So when you’re presented with a struggle it’s easy to give up or feel overwhelmed. 

With Megumi, something about the way he’s written feels very personal. I could be wrong but I wonder if he represents Gege’s own reluctance to own his power. So in a sense, Gege “powers up” when Megumi “powers up” because in JJK powering up is about becoming secure in one’s sense of self.

Seriously, Megumi feels like an exercise in Active Imagination, a Psychological tool used in Jungian analysis to encourage thinking beyond one’s sense of self.

I swear Megumi has felt like a Masterclass in Jungian Psychology from the moment I started watching JJK, and the more I see him grow and develop and HOW he grows and develops, the more I am convinced that this is the case.

This brings me to the idea of #Dark Megumi because fandom is super split on this idea. Some love it (like me), and some absolutely hate the idea.

To each their own.

To me. The idea of Megumi loosing his sense of self to his darker instincts and selfishness is a catalyst for his growth and character development. We still don’t know if this is where Gege is taking his character arc, but when I see his behavior, it sure feels like it. Especially when the definition of power in JJK is “overwhelming sense of self” and Megumi has been working on defining his sense of self this whole time.

It’s not like I think he’s going to become a maniacal villain like Mexico’s most iconic villainess.

Except Megumi would scoff at you in Nihongo.

I don’t have words for it just yet and I’ve been trying to write about it for about a month or two. All I can say right now is that there’s something interesting that happens to sorcerers as they reach the pinnacle of their sense of self: They either become like Sukuna or they become like Gojo.

It’s not even about how crazy they are. 

It’s about how they see the world and the actions they take as a result. 

As ma 🍒 likes to remind me, “let’s wait and see what happens to make a judgement...” 

Happy JJK-Sunday if you’ve made it this far ♥️!

[smoll-tangerine]

update: january 2023 (i’m alive)

hello, hello, hello! i believe an update post is long overdue. and yes, if it wasn’t obvious, i’m alive!! (but just barely hanging there). 

i know i said that i was going to update once i’ve settled in the new city and after getting used to grad school, but these past few months have been brutal in terms of workload and having — or trying to have — a healthy work/school-life balance. tbh, the next semester’s going to be brutal as well so i don’t want to keep making empty promises and say that i will update soon when i barely have the time for myself. 

with that being said, i’m also not saying that i’m giving up on writing completely. i still have a couple of fics and requests that i need to complete/post/write, and even if i am hella busy, i actually don’t see myself leaving tumblr or even closing this blog down. or even if i am planning on closing this blog down, it won’t be for a hot while. 

i’ll try my best to post/update these for 2023: 

complete my one-year anniversary requests 

current status: 17/22 completed

complete ten reasons why i hate you 

current status: 5/10 chapters posted 

complete un amour d’été timestamps mini-series 

current status: 2/5 timestamps posted

post pandora’s box 

current wc: 9089 

just a lot of world-building to do since it’s the first book of a trilogy and everything has to make sense for jaehyun’s and taeyong’s stories 

post tabula rasa 

current wc: 5333 

also just a lot of world-building since it’s an isekai!au + sci-fi fic

post a promise of infinity 

current wc: 6901 

lowkey lost a lot of inspo for this fic so it’s at the bottom of my priorities but who knows 

i have a lot more fics in my drafts/google docs drive, but i thought it’d be best to have a sort of list of fics for me to focus, as opposed to writing wtv fic i want (which is still what i do most of the time, but i wanted something more concrete). 

speaking of fics in my drafts, these are the ones that i’ve been working on the most (aka, they all have around 1~5k words written, not just an idea or a synopsis): 

god complex: 

neurosurgeon!jaehyun x cardio surgeon!female surgeon 

angst, romance, slice of life, fluff, exes-to-lovers!au 

racine de l’arborescence: 

demigod!jaehyun x demigod!female reader 

romance, friendship, action, slight angst, drama, greek myth!au, pjo!au 

for the thrill of the ride: 

richboy!jaehyun x streetracer!female reader 

romance, action, richkid!au 

(take it) with a pinch of salt: 

chef!jaehyun x food critic!female reader 

romance, comedy, enemies-to-lovers!au 

you wish me well, i wish you hell: 

ice dancer!jaehyun x ice dancer!female reader! x ice dancer!johnny 

romance, drama, love triangle, enemies-to-lovers!au

spinning out: 

hockey player!mark x figure skater!female reader 

romance, drama, enemies-to-lovers!au, college!au, athletes!au

hope you are all excited!! let me know which fic are you most excited about in my ask/inbox!!! (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ♥ 

p-s: i will be updating ten reasons and will post chapter 6 by sunday/monday.

[wheezel]

transness & suicidality

obvious tw for. the above

hello. my name is max.

i’ve been going by max on the internet since like 2014 or 2015, when i’d join roleplay plots on creativefun, or maybe even before that, or parallel to that, i had some blatantly obvious self-insert OC with the same name. in every pokémon game i’ve ever owned, i’ve had an eevee named max. i don’t know why i was so attached to this name, but i don’t think i ever really foresaw it becoming Mine.

i started using tumblr “full time” in 2017. mostly for fandom stuff, especially harry potter. i’ve been max on here since the beginning of that— co-ran some hufflepuff blog under that name, and i thought it was the coolest thing.

i’ve always struggled in the mental health department. i wasn’t diagnosed with anything, but i’ve probably been contemplating suicide since the fifth grade. it didn’t start out serious, i don’t think, but throughout middle school it was a thought that never really left my head.

i’d known that i was queer since maybe the sixth grade? luckily i grew up in a general area where that wasn’t shamed or anything, so tbh it wasn’t super hard to come to terms with.

i don’t think i knew what being trans was until like 8th grade, but you wouldn’t believe that— i don’t wanna do the whole “i’ve been acting like a little boy since birth Ah Ah” thing bc i know that’s not a universal trans experience & i don’t want to make it out to be, but also.. i literally basically grew up as a little boy 😭 i was very outspoken about not liking anything “girly,” was friends with mostly guys, i’d always make my character a boy in any game i played, probably announced multiple times that i wished i was a boy or said that i “basically was.” i believe in tomboy/weird little girl rights and obv there is no “acting like a boy/girl” but. the point‘s that it was a thought in my mind.

wtv wtv quarantine hits, my friends become more homophobic/transphobic for some reason, i start looking more towards online queer communities. this makes me more active here, obviously, but also to a handful of discord servers. at this point i’m very well acquainted with transness, but still very sure in the fact that i’m just a very tomboyish lesbian— like i’d genuinely thought about it, a lot, and just didn’t ever “feel trans.” i wasn’t dysphoric, i liked my hair long, i had a lot of pride in being a lesbian, and i just. ‘didn’t mind’ being a girl.

time passes again and i start realizing that i’m not, in fact, cis. this pill was a little bit harder to swallow, but mostly because i didn’t know what i was. i played around with my identity for a while— i was pretty comfortably genderfluid for like a year or two— but i was still only out online. when i did eventually come out to my friend group at the time (shout out HS backstage crew), they were really accepting n stuff, but they’d almost exclusively refer to me with masculine terms. and like.. at first i was like ‘nooo they’re misunderstanding woe is me,’ but after a while, i got less & less comfortable being referred to with feminine terms, she/her pronouns, et cetera. some time in january, i started hanging out with a handful of people who i kinda knew but wasn’t all that close with, and i got to introduce myself as max. i danced around the topic of my gender for a while (“you can call me whatever i don’t really care”), but maybe two months ago, i resigned to the fact that i was just. a guy.

you’d think this would be about as easy as the rest of my little realizations, but. you’ve seen the news.

realizing that i now exist in a world that would blatantly rather i be dead than happy was not something that i was ready to grapple with.

i had made so much progress mentally since the beginning of this year— i *liked* who i was four months ago. i think i genuinely started loving myself.

now? i feel like i’m 12 again. i‘m so self conscious & i feel like everyone’s always looking at me funny and i can’t order food without embarrassing myself and i can’t. talk to anyone without feeling guilty that they have to know me. i’ve had this awful, heavy, guilty feeling in my chest for two months straight, and i don’t think i can get rid of it. i keep spiraling and hurting people and every time i think about talking to them about it i almost start throwing up because i feel so disgusting about myself. i shut myself out from a lot of people because of the shame. i couldn’t face them. i can’t convince myself that i belong here, or anywhere, or that i’m not actively making everything worse for everyone i know.

and you know. i almost did it.

to be honest, i don’t know why i didn’t. i still think about it all the time, if i’d actually gone through with it.

i think about the numbers all the time. i’m constantly turning them around in my head— 82, 40, 86, 56. it felt like what i was supposed to do.

though, clearly! i’m still here. i don’t have some big Ha Ha Fuck You to the world reason or whatever, in all honesty i just kinda felt more guilty when i thought about what’d happen if i did it. which stopped me, sure, but also led to me stewing in this miserable, suicidal limbo for like two weeks straight. i’ve been slowly getting better, but it doesn’t really get easier.

i wish i could make some grand statement about transphobia and society and the state of the world, but honestly? i’m just tired. i have nothing to say.

except maybe that my name is max, i’m transmasc, my pronouns are he/him, and i’m still here whether i or the world want me to be or not. because i gotta be.