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beom9yus · 1 year

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dare - choi soobin x reader

: soobin x genderless reader

: oral-soobin receiving, cum eating?tasting? pretty much it

: 2k words - just simply wanted to write about sucking him off LOL

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stare at your friend who was laying down on the hospital room bed. He’s looking away with a cute bunny pout as you laugh in his face. “How did you-how did you manage to break both your wrists and parts of your fingers?” You start shaking as you bite your bottom lip, trying to hold back from laughing in his face. You feel your cheekbones plump up from smiling, not being strong or mature enough to have a serious face.

His hands that are in casts almost all the way up to his elbows, are currently on the side of his body, one hand being mostly free, casted from his lower palm downwards. Meanwhile the right was entirely sculpted in a cast. Sadly for Soobin, you couldn’t help but guffaw. It was too funny. He’s annoyed now, raising his upper body up to quietly yell at you. He furrows his brows as he tells you, “Stop. It’s not even that funny. Hyuka dared me to do a cartwheel and I made it to the part where my hands are on the ground, and my legs in the air… and I have no clue what happened next. I’m going to be double handless for who knows how long.”

“You’re literally the last person anyone should dare when it comes to doing anything physical. Over six feet and you’re bad at anything that has to do with using your body.” He rolls his eyes and tries to cross his arms as he realizes he can’t, not properly at least. He just responds with, “yeah yeah whatever.”

You think again about Soobin trying to do a cartwheel and you start to feel yourself cry from the amount of giggles and chortling, hands wrapped around your stomach. “Damn Binnie, how are you going to do anything now? You quite literally need both your hands for almost everything.” You wipe some of the tears that rolled down your face, “By the way, did the rest of the group come already? I haven’t checked my phone since I got your call…Wait, how did you even call me?”

Looking unamused, he replies, “I had Hyuka dial you for me for your information. And yeah, they came already, you’re the last one to get here.” He looks like he’s thinking and he raises his head, looking ahead, and his eyes widen, “holy shit you’re right, how am I gonna do anything. How am I going to-“ he stops mid sentence as his ears redden. You quickly catch on. “Dude, you’re nasty.”

“Shut up, you’re the one that’s thinking weird stuff. Also, I’m probably going to have to see if I’ll be excused for some assignments or something? I’ll have to figure it out.”

“Well I’m not doing your assignments for you.”

You guys continue bickering like children until you’re both finally quiet.

You hum as you finally calm down and sit next to him.

“Hey, when are they letting you go home?”

“Tomorrow. They have to do extra checkups or something, I don’t know.”

You nod as you finally ask him if he needs anything else and he tells you no, but it seems like he changed his mind. “Actually, can you change the channel for me? This is boring.”

A day goes by, and both you and Soobin enter your shared space, finally getting home after they let him go. Obviously unable to drive, you had to bring him home. “Okay Soobin, welcome home again, don’t try to do any fancy aerobics for a while okay?” He just sighs, rolling his eyes, “ha ha. You’re so funny.” You shoot him a quick evil smile as you sit down on the couch. He decides to sit next to you as you put on some random movie. Most of the week is normal, Soobin able to do some low level things with one hand, and asking for your help with what he can’t.

It was a quiet day when you entered the apartment. You put down the bags of groceries as you started heading towards Soobin’s room, asking if he wanted food. That’s when you hear him curse, “Shit, ow.” You thought he hurt his hand and needed something as you entered the room.

“Hey Soobin, you need help with somethin-“

You widen your eyes in shock as you see him sitting on his gaming chair, sweatpants around his thighs, as his almost cast free hand is on his member. You struggle as you slowly step back, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Fuck I-I’m so sorry, I should’ve knocked. Let’s just forge-“

He doesn’t look that embarrassed, instead of hiding, he places his right arm over his face, voice shaking, “Y/n help me please. Please.”

You stop in your tracks as you try to process what he just said. “What?”

He turns his face away and you can see how red his ears and side of his cheeks are. Left hand still on his dick, he starts answering you with a quiet and quivering voice, “it’s-it’s been more than a week since I’ve gotten off and I just…I just can’t. It hurts to try because of this stupid fucking cast, it’s too high up on my palm so it hurts me, a-and it’s my left hand so it’s harder. Please y/n, I wouldn’t want to ask you something this humiliating, I just need to get off. If..if you’re uncomfortable I understand too, I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away.”

You kind of feel bad for the guy…

You deeply breathe in and out once, “Okay. I’ll help you. Only this once. I don’t want our friendship to get all weird, you’re important to me you know.” He lifts his head up as he looks at you, shaking his head quickly, “it won’t! It won’t, I promise! Please, just do something. Anything.”

You go up to him as he watches you, his heart racing fast. It’s not like he hadn’t dreamt or thought of this once or twice. Maybe a thousand times. It’s not my fault, he thinks, he just thinks you’re the cutest person ever, no big deal. You get on your knees as you remove his hand from his dick. You wondered how you should help him, not realizing you were staring at it. He flushed at the way you were seemingly staring so intently, feeling his dick twitch. He was glad his hands were restrained, or else he would’ve lifted you up and kissed you by now.

You hear Soobin whisper above you, “Y/n…”

“Oh. Sorry..um…” you quickly spit in your hand as you wrap your hand around him, unable to close the gap between your index finger and thumb. You see the way he gasps and slightly jumps from the feeling, liking the way your hand looks and feels on his dick. You stroke his dick shyly, unsure of what he even likes when it comes this kind of stuff. You guys were close, but never talked about anything this sexual before.

You look up at him nervously, and if Soobin was in some kind of cartoon, he’d probably be like those guys where you could see their hearts beat out of their chest. Your hands feel so soft on him, and he could tell the way you were apprehensive on what you wanted to do. Soobin trying to help, tells you, “harder, fuck, a little more, please.”

You do as he tells you, seeing him moan quietly as he rolls his head back a little, bunny lips slightly opened. Your eyes divert back to his length in your hands, seeing how pretty it was. It felt hot and heavy against your palm. As you continued to look, a thought appeared: you wanted it in your mouth. Your body shifts at the thought, suddenly feeling hot as you swivel your thumb around his head, letting his precum smear against it, and you drag what you can down to his base.

You look up to see Soobin with his head rolled back, breathing heavily, distracted from the way you were making him feel. You didn’t know, but Soobin was doing his best not to look at you too much or else he fears he might come too quick, wanting this to last.

You take this as an opportunity, and you bite your lips as your face gets closer towards his dick. Opening your mouth, you finally take in his head. You taste him, sensing how he feels against your tongue. He gasps loudly as he involuntarily and softly places his hands, or in this case, casts, on your hair, taken by surprise. He accidentally bucks up his hips, making the cutest face you’ve seen. You look up at him with big eyes, tip of his dick in your mouth.

Soobin swears he’s dreaming. He caresses your hair with his partly free hand as his breathing gets heavier, now panting at you slowly taking him into your soft, wet mouth more. His hair’s on his forehead, almost covering his eyes as he rolls them back, holding back from thrusting into the back of your mouth. He cries out at the feeling of you running your tongue on the underside of his dick, feeling his vein as your tongue moves against it. His abs flex due to his movements, his panting getting heavier and heavier by the second.

You like the heavy feeling of him on your tongue, and you start to focus on breathing through your nose more, taking almost all of him in your mouth. With your hands on his thighs, you start moving your head as you suck in your cheeks, wanting to see him break down. You suddenly hear and see him whimper, cute sounds flooding your ears, and it travels straight to your core. You see the way he closes his eyes, his eyebrows creasing close together, small scowl on his face from the pleasure, and the way he was building up a sweat just from getting sucked off. He looked good.

You relax the best you can as you try to take him in deeper. You feel his head hit the back of your throat as you slightly choke, eyes watering and throat closing down. He looks down at you as he moans loudly, seeing your eyes wet and teary, making them shine while looking up at him, watching, seeing if you’re making him feel good. Your hand lets go of one of his thighs as you jerk off the rest of what you can’t fit in your mouth.

You decide to try to deep throat him once more, taking him in all the way towards the back of your mouth, holding still once you feel his tip prod against the back of your soft tissue. Soobin moans and whimpers at the feeling of your throat constricting his dick, and tries his best not to lift his hips up, no matter how bad he wants to. “Ah shit, y/n…y/n feels too good, not-not gonna last like this.”

You ignore him as you hear his sounds, whines spilling from his pretty pink lips as you continue to deep throat him. You moan at how needy you were starting to get, and Soobin almost cums, holding back like he has been this entire time because there’s no way he wants it to end any time soon. He looks down at you again, and sees how you’re drooling now, eyes, cheeks and nose red, your eyes big and watery, your lashes stuck together from the wetness. You go as deep as you can, choking around him as your nose almost touches his pelvis.

This was the last straw for Soobin as he lets out a final moan and whine of your name as you remove yourself from him and feel his hot seed hit your face. You hear him continue to pathetically whimper as Soobin’s body is still tensing as he continues to come a lot, hot ropes of cum landing on your tongue as you stick it out, wanting to taste every part of him.

Maybe his body wasn’t bad at everything, you’d have to find out.

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freakymcnastys · 1 month

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“lover you should’ve come over ” toge inumaki x fem!reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ "all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter"

content: the shibuya incident, talk of dying, death, blood, ANGST, short (abt like 900 words), you have a smoke related cursed technique, ur a 2nd year, aoi todo is ur older brother :D, fight scene sucks (sorry..),,,,

AS YOU WERE FIGHTING a bunch of low-grade 2 curses you felt a glint of something else in your smoke. This one wasn’t with the rest of the grade twos…this had to be a special grade at least..but once you figured it out, it was right behind you. The 'it' in question was none other than Sugaru Geto, this sent a chill down your spine. Something in your brain told you that you couldn’t possibly beat him; that you could maybe slow him down.

“Y/n!” Shit. You knew that voice, how could you not. If it had been any other mission you would've been happy seeing your brother but this mission would cost you your life and you didn’t want your brother to witness it. No matter how strong he or anyone says he is, Yuta could barely take Geto so the likelihood of this fight coming out in their favor was slim to none.

“I have a question, Geto.” You said into the smoke, knowing that your technique would carry your voice to the curse. He just hummed in response with a smile on his face. “Where’s Gojo?” You wanted to know if the so-called slim chance would come to help you mid-fight. This made Geto laugh a little. “In the prison realm, where he should be.” You just bitterly scoffed. “Well, at least I know you're not the real Geto.”

He just shrugged before getting into a fighting position. You then used your smoke to confine your opponent, making it morph into a solid in an attempt to harm him. But, unfortunately, he dodged it before it caused any real damage. The only damage done was a small cut. “Not bad, for a monkey.” He hummed before sending a curse towards you--two actually although you didn’t see the other one. “Seriously? Some low level curse-” You said, almost offended at his attack but before you could finish something shot through your middle causing a gasp to escape you.

“Yet not good enough..” He said disappointed. You couldn’t reply back because of the aching pain from the impalement, although soon enough you killed the curse, removing what was protruding in your abdomen. Muffled yells from the other side of your smoke became louder since it started disappearing considering your injury. You moved your hand in an attempt to stop the blood from escaping your body, but all you felt was the warm liquid pooling in your palm. “I’ll spare him–since I'm feeling so merciful.” Geto waved his hand as he walked off to find Itadori aka Sukana's vessel. Aoi’s heavy steps stopped behind you as he took in the sight. You knew that he would blame himself for the inevitable outcome of the fight. “Aoi?” Your voice cracked as tears drew from your eyes, unbeknownst to you. “Y/n listen I’m gonna get you to Shoko and she’s gonna fix you right up...okay?” The look the two of you shared said something else. Both of you knew that you wouldn’t make it to the street, but he didn't have the heart to say that.

Aoi still picked you up, the grip caused you to cry out in pain. He flinched at the sound before walking to the doors to the street. Continuous whimpers and cries came from you but Aoi wanted to try and get to Shoko as fast as he could. They reached the street and saw Inumaki and Panda fighting a bunch of curses, the two sensed a presence behind them, and turned around quickly. Both were ready to fight but stopped instantly at the sight of their friend being carried and Aoi covered with blood.

“Is that y/n..?” Panda asks in a whisper as Inumaki feels his heart drop. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You both were supposed to go on a date after you got back from this. You promised him. This wasn’t fair! Toge had tried to be fair and (mostly) kind to everyone so why was this happening to him? He had never asked for anything selfish in his life. So why him.

The full moon at night beamed onto y/n's corpse, making you look almost angelic. The crimson blood slowly started to dry up as your conciseness left a while ago. Aoi knew you'd been dead since your cries slowly faded but he refused to turn his head to check. He was scared to cause his little sister any more pain than she already was in.

Strangely enough, Toge remembered something that you had said to him some time ago, finding it weird to think about that memory at a time like this. You and him were sitting on the concrete stairs as Panda, Maki, Nobara and Megami were training for the exchange event. You were laughing at specifically Panda and Nobara, and you didn’t notice the lingering eyes of the cursed speech user next to you. The sheer admiration in his eyes could’ve made anyone swoon. Ever since you had transferred from the Kyoto sister school, he had taken a liking to you. Always walking with you, training, trying to communicate with you.

“Hey you okay–do I have something on my face…?” You asked with a light smile. “Bonito flakes” He nodded from side to side. “Oh good well um what’s up?” You asked curiously. “Salmon.” He just pointed to his ears swiftly. The two of you established some simple signs to communicate easily. “Sure I’ll talk!” You beamed before turning your body to the boy. Then you proceeded to talk about anything coming to your mind but one thing in specific Inumaki seemed to remember. “Ya know I feel like I know what dying would feel like–” You trailed off.

“Mustard leaf..” Toge loved hearing you talk but whenever you got to talking about these topics he got slightly worried. “No no it’s alright..” You laughed a little at his worry. Inumaki felt his heart skip a beat, call it cliche but something he would never hate listening to is your laughter.

“It's just something I’ve thought of–or rather what I hope it’d be like..” As you continued your thought he listened to you intently, although not liking what you were talking about but it wasn’t something you could help thinking about especially while being a jujutsu sorcerer. “I kinda hope it’s like when you fall asleep at a family party when you were younger and you get carried to your bed and you can hear the laughter in the next room…” You sighed with a small smile, feeling the wind pass the two of you. The sun turning sides of pink and orange meaning you guys should probably turn in for the night. Seeing you in this light made him want to freeze the picture and savor it forever, too scared of it slipping away.

Why was that the thing Toge had to remember while seeing your body. He hates to admit it but he hopes the same thing too–for your sake…and his own.

(putting it out there i LOVE angst so expect it from me 😏😏 also big brother todo>>>)

- love always, kat

#jjk x reader #jjk #inumaki toge x reader #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #toge x reader #angst #jjk angst #sorry guys

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writeriguess · 2 days

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instead talking about Bakugou a little older than the reader? he in comparison has had a lot of experiences compared to her, but she in fact feels insecure about this, and would like some reassurance, but at a certain point Bakugou has a fit of jealousy and at that point she makes him understand how much he loves her, it would be too cute🎀 (+smut) THANKS

You had always admired Bakugou Katsuki from afar. His fiery personality, his unrelenting drive, and his overwhelming confidence made him impossible to ignore. Now, being with him felt like a dream—but sometimes, that dream turned into insecurity. After all, he was older, more experienced, and you often found yourself wondering if you measured up.

You sat at the edge of the bed, fidgeting with your fingers. Bakugou was pacing the room, towel draped over his neck after a long, hard day. His messy blond hair was still damp from the shower, and the muscles in his back flexed with every movement. As you watched him, the words that had been bothering you for days finally tumbled out.

“Katsuki… you’ve been with more people, right?”

His movements froze mid-step, and he turned to look at you, brows furrowing in confusion. “Huh? Where’s this coming from?”

You lowered your gaze, unsure of how to voice the insecurities swirling inside you. “It’s just… you’ve done a lot. Been with people, had more experiences. And I’m just—well, I feel like I’m behind. What if I’m not enough for you?”

His eyes softened, but there was a fire flickering behind them. In a few quick strides, he was standing in front of you, towering over your smaller frame. He lifted your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Are you kidding me?” Bakugou’s voice was low, almost a growl. “You think I care about any of that?”

You blinked, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosening just a little. “I mean, you’ve done so much already, and I’m just… I don’t know, Katsuki. I feel like you deserve someone who’s on your level.”

His scowl deepened, but this time it wasn’t directed at you. “Tch, you’re an idiot sometimes, y’know that? You think I’m with you for your ‘experience’?” He crouched down to your eye level, his intense crimson eyes burning into yours. “I’m with you because you’re you. Don’t need anyone else, don’t want anyone else. Got it?”

You felt your heart swell at his words, but before you could fully process the warmth, Bakugou’s expression darkened, and he stood back up.

“Wait… is that why you’ve been talkin’ to that extra from your class? The one always hangin’ around you?” His fists clenched, and you could practically see the jealousy bubbling up in him. His jaw tightened as if just the thought of it made his blood boil. “You think you need someone like him instead of me?”

Realization hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t mad at you. He was jealous. Bakugou, for all his confidence and bravado, was actually worried about losing you.

“Katsuki, no,” you said, standing up and grabbing his arm. His muscles were tense, but you held on firmly. “He’s just a friend. No one comes close to you. No one could ever replace you.”

He turned his head away, still refusing to meet your eyes, but you could tell his resolve was cracking. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat filled your ears.

“I love you, Katsuki,” you whispered against his skin. “You’re all I need. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt that.”

Bakugou’s hands hesitated before they finally settled on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His grip tightened as if he was scared to let you go.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to say that,” he muttered, his voice softer now. “I love you, idiot.”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart flutter. You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. He responded immediately, his hands sliding up your back, his lips demanding yet gentle against yours. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself being backed up against the bed, your legs hitting the edge.

“Katsuki…” you breathed out as he guided you down onto the mattress, his body hovering over yours.

His eyes darkened with desire, the jealousy from earlier replaced by an intense need to remind you just how much you meant to him. He kissed you again, this time with more urgency, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His hands roamed over your body, fingertips pressing into your skin as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your collarbone, his voice rough with need. “No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to see you like this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him. “I’m yours, Katsuki. Only yours.”

Bakugou’s lips crashed against yours again, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing the curves of your body. You gasped as his touch ignited a fire inside you, and before you knew it, your clothes were discarded, leaving you bare beneath him.

He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your body as if he was trying to commit the sight to memory. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in it made your heart skip a beat.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. “Katsuki… I love you.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerable side of him that he rarely showed anyone. He leaned down, kissing you softly before whispering against your lips, “I love you too.”

Katsuki’s hands were anything but steady as he started fumbling with the buttons of your blouse. His fingers, usually so sure and precise, trembled slightly in a way that was endearing—like even he was nervous despite how confident he usually seemed. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his eyes locked onto yours as his brows furrowed in frustration.

“Damn thing,” he muttered, his impatience getting the best of him.

You chuckled softly, reaching up to still his hands. “Here, let me help,” you whispered, your fingers gently brushing against his. His gaze softened for a moment, and he watched as you slowly undid the rest of the buttons yourself.

As the fabric parted, revealing more of your skin, Katsuki’s eyes darkened with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. He slid his hands over your now exposed skin, his touch sending sparks of warmth through your body. You shivered, not from the cold but from the electric connection that pulsed between you.

“Katsuki,” you breathed his name, drawing him closer as your blouse slipped off your shoulders, landing softly on the floor. His mouth found yours again, but this time, his kiss was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second. His hands moved to your waist, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of the possessiveness he had over you.

“Don’t know why you worry so much,” he murmured against your lips before kissing down your jawline to your neck. “You’re all I ever want.”

His words melted your insecurities, and you tilted your head back to give him better access. Each kiss, each graze of his teeth against your skin, sent a wave of warmth coursing through you. Your fingers tangled in his messy blond hair, pulling him closer as his lips moved lower.

“You’re perfect, you hear me?” Katsuki’s voice was rough, breathless, his jealousy from earlier forgotten as his focus shifted entirely to you. “No one else could ever come close to making me feel like this.”

You couldn’t help but smile through the haze of warmth and desire that clouded your mind. “You always know what to say, Katsuki.”

His response was a low growl of approval, his lips grazing your collarbone as his hands roamed lower, exploring the newly exposed skin. Every touch, every kiss, reaffirmed what you already knew: you were all he wanted, just as he was all you needed.

Katsuki’s lips trailed down your chest, his hot breath fanning across your skin, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it touched. The tension in the room thickened, his hands now tracing over the curves of your waist, gripping your hips with a possessive yet tender touch. As his lips hovered just above the edge of your bra, he paused, glancing up at you with those intense crimson eyes.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, laced with need. He kissed the swell of your breast softly, almost as if he was holding himself back.

You let out a shaky breath, fingers still tangled in his hair. “Katsuki…”

Hearing his name on your lips like that seemed to spark something in him. His hands moved to the clasp of your bra, and this time, there was no fumbling. He made quick work of it, tossing the fabric aside before lowering his head, lips grazing the newly exposed skin. His kisses turned hotter, more desperate, as his tongue flicked over one of your nipples, making you gasp and arch into him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his hands roaming your body like he couldn’t get enough of you. Every touch set your skin on fire, each kiss pulling you further into the storm that was Bakugou Katsuki.

You could feel the tension building between you both, the room growing hotter with every second. You tugged at his shirt, pulling it off him in one swift motion, eager to feel his skin against yours. His muscles flexed under your touch, his body hard and warm as he pressed himself closer to you, almost as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

“Katsuki,” you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation. “I need you…”

The words seemed to unravel something inside him. His lips crashed against yours again, and in a rush, his hands went to the waistband of your skirt. In one swift movement, he pulled it down, taking your panties with it, leaving you completely bare before him.

He paused for a moment, eyes raking over your body, as if he needed to take you in—every inch, every curve, burning the image of you into his mind.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said, voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, he was on you again, his hands sliding down your thighs, parting them gently as he settled between them. The intensity in his eyes, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly despite his strong grip, only fueled your desire. You reached for him, tugging at the waistband of his pants, needing to feel him, needing to close the distance that still remained between you.

“Katsuki, please…” you whispered, your voice heavy with need.

That seemed to snap whatever control he had left. In a blur of motion, his pants were discarded, and he hovered over you, his skin warm against yours as he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath came in ragged gasps, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you—nothing else mattered.

“I love you,” he murmured, the words raw, almost vulnerable as he aligned himself with you.

Before you could respond, he thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelmed your senses. Katsuki groaned, his head dropping to the crook of your neck as he held himself still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you.

“You feel… so damn good,” he breathed, his voice strained with the effort it took to stay still.

You wrapped your arms around his back, nails digging into his skin as you whispered his name, urging him to move. And he did, slowly at first, his hips rolling against yours with a delicious rhythm that had you trembling beneath him. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in him.

Katsuki’s pace quickened, the desperation in his movements mirroring your own. He pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as his hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you even closer, deeper, as if he wanted to merge with you entirely.

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your breath hitching as the coil of pleasure in your stomach tightened with every thrust. “Only yours, Katsuki…”

His response was a low growl, his grip tightening as he drove into you harder, faster. “That’s right,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re mine… all mine.”

The intensity of his words, the sheer possessiveness in his voice, pushed you over the edge. With a cry, your body tightened around him, pleasure exploding through you in waves as your climax washed over you. Katsuki followed soon after, his body shuddering against yours as he found his own release, groaning your name as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

For a moment, the world was silent, save for the sound of your heavy breathing, both of you clinging to each other as you came down from the high.

Katsuki collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers brushing through your hair as he held you close.

“I love you,” he whispered again, quieter this time, but just as sincere.

You smiled, snuggling into his warmth as you whispered back, “I love you too, Katsuki. Always.”

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

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5tt3llar · 6 days

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Today in Conton City…

Nopatzu belongs to me while Fridged belongs to @airplaneear2

To explain Nopatzu’s lore a bit:

She’s a prev Mid Class U7 warrior that accidentally followed through a Time Patroller’s portal back to Conton City, saw too much, and was basically roped into being a time patroller

Nopatzu used to work under King Cold and a bit under Frieza as well. Hence why the “can I REALLY trust you?” air towards other of the Frieza Race/Icejins

Xeno Vegeta got assigned Nopatzu to essentially “civilize” her into the new conditions. Since he used to know the “old way” of saiyans, and he himself had to change away from that exact nature. He also trained her to increase her power since she had gone from one of stronger ones, to the weaker ones. Which did take a toll, and still bothers hers and eats away at her consciousness

She’s been a time patroller for a rather short time, only 6 months. Still mainly trains user Xeno Vegeta as she understands/relates to him the most. As well admires him the most (similiar to how Cabba, but in a more subtle way. In front of him she doesn’t show SQUAT tries to play cool and doesn’t want to let anyone know)

She can only go SSJ, which is still unmastered. Can also go to SSJ4 and is more mastered than SSJ due to her being an expert with the Oozaru/great ape transformation. She can only access SSJ4 via a special Senzu though

THE SPECIAL SENZU: Instead of healing and restoring stamina, essentially works like assisted rope rock climbing. Sometimes they may nudge you to get through a part you alone couldn’t otherwise, but it’s also your own doing to find a grip and stay there after the nudge

Nopatzu is also sent to aid Z-Broly missions quite often (her first mission was also a Z-Broly mission) due to her having a power level low enough to not rile up Z-Broly to become more powerful, and make it a bigger of an issue for the other Z-fighters to deal with. And resilient enough to survive the brutal beating. Essentially she is a meat shield and power battery to help the other Z-fighters win—

She absolute despises the hell outta Z-Broly, and is also traumatized to an extent 😭

#nopatzu #saiyan oc #saiyan #dbz oc #dbz ocs #dragonball xenoverse 2 #db oc #dragon ball oc #dragonball oc #frieza race #frieza race oc #icejin #icejin oc #others ocs #dbz xenoverse #dragon ball #dragonball #5t3llar

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madstronaut · 3 months

Text

got totally blindsided by a whole fucking beautiful chapter on IRL a/b/o pack dynamics in a sociological nonfiction nyt bestseller book I was reading

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU, ISABEL WILKERSON FOR INCLUDING THIS CHAPTER IN CASTE (great and challenging read btw, highly recommend) i am also honestly like why is there a whole chapter dedicated to this is she secretly an A/B/O fan LMAO

a few choice quotes for all my fellow a/b/o fiends out there:

"True alphas, the behaviorist told me, are fearless protectors against outside incursions, but they rarely have to assert themselves within the pack, rarely have to act with aggression, bark orders, or use physical means of control." speak softly carry big dstick vibes

"True alphas command authority through their calm oversight of those who depend upon them. They establish their rank early in life and communicate through ancient signals their inner strength and stewardship, assert their power only when necessary. An alpha generally eats first, decides when and who will eat afterward, inspires trust through firm shepherding for the safety and well-being of the pack."

"An alpha is not necessarily the biggest or fastest but usually the innately self-assured one who can chastise a pack member with a mere look or low voice. A true alpha wields quiet power judiciously apportioned."

"You know that you are not seeing a true alpha, or, put another way, you have encountered an insecure alpha, if he or she must yell, scream, bully, or attack those beneath them into submission. That individual does not have the loyalty and trust of the pack and endangers the entire group through his or her insecurities, through his or her show of fear and lack of courage."

"We owe our misperceptions about alpha behavior to studies of large groupings of wolves placed into captivity and forced to fight for dominance or to cower into submission. In nature, wolf packs are more likely to consist of extended family systems, packs of between five and fifteen wolves, led by an alpha male and an alpha female, whom the pack trust and has reason to trust for the survival of them all." ok let me interject here to briefly proclaim *clears throat* ALPHA FEMALE SUPREMACYYYY

"The main characteristic of an alpha male wolf is a quiet confidence, quiet self-assurance...you know what's best for your pack. You lead by example. You're very comfortable with that. You have a calming effect."

"At the bottom of the hierarchy is the omega, the underdog, the lowest-ranking wolf, arising from natural personality traits in relation to others in the pack. The omega generally eats last and serves as a kind of court jester who acts as an escape valve, often picked on by other wolves. He bears the brunt of the tensions they face in the wild, where they are subject to attack from predators or from rival packs and during lean times in the hunt for prey."

"The omega acts as a kind of social glue, allowing frustration to be vented without actual acts of war...the omega is so critical to the pack structure that when a pack loses its omega, it enters into a long period of mourning, where the entire pack stops hunting and just lays around looking miserable, as if there were no longer a reason to go on. The loss of an omega can threaten social cohesion and put the entire pack at risk. Depending on the composition of the pack, an omega might not be easily replaced. The new omega would mean a demotion for one of the lower to mid-level pack members. Either way, the pack is destabilized. After all, these roles are not artificially assigned based upon what an individual wolf looks like, as with certain other species, but emerge as a consequence of internal personality traits that surface naturally in the forming of a pack."

tagging my fellow a/b/o + werewolf au fans/moots/beloveds:

@obsidiangravity @the-californicationist @ghostgorlsworld @http-paprika @deadbranch

@gemmahale @frogchiro @yeyinde @ghouljams @shotmrmiller

(i bless you all with enough inspo and hcs and fic ideas to rival loads of rut/heat-induced knotti-)

anyway, HAPPY JULY FOLKS WHAT A GREAT WAY TO START THIS MONTH

#madstrothought #a/b/o dynamics #caste by isabel wilkerson #isabel wilkerson #alphas #omegas #wolf packs

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beenbaanbuun · 7 months

Note

Hey bunny! Sorry for bothering you when I'm sure you're in the middle of perfecting the addams!matz fic, but I have a kinda specific request I'm not sure I'd trust anyone else with.

I've been feeling kinda low on the self esteem/body image scales, but whenever I look for comfort fics I find that a lot of them cater towards chubby or curvier readers, which is great! I'm really happy that authors are doing that... but as someone who has the figure of a crayon, and is insecure about not being curvy or "feminine" enough, or worse that I appear child-like, it kinda just serves as a reminder some days T-T

So would it be too self indulgent to request a comfort/body worship fic with either Mingi or Yeosang with an s/o who's not curvy and is insecure about it?

No hard feelings if that's outta your comfort zone tho! I geddit ^^

Have a good day bunny, hope you have nothing but happy, snuggly, cozy vibes <33

~Lyra

i get where you’re coming from completely!! i feel like as a curvier girl i’m very lucky because it’s fairly easy to find fics catered towards me. i guess due to my own ignorance i haven’t really taken notice of a lack of fics that don’t cater to me but now you point it out i can see that it’s definitely true! i hope that i can write this perfectly for you because i feel like everyone should have fics that include them!

so i’m under the impression that mingi does not give a fuck about body type in the slightest

i mean we’ve all seen his fan calls - the man flirts with anyone regardless of body type and he’s so real for that!

but despite your boyfriend’s love and affection, sometimes your own brain gets to you a little

and sometimes the time you spend picking yourself to pieces in the mirror increases to a level that’s become concerning to mingi

he’ll catch you from time to time, just standing there and running your hands over your form

and, sure, he may be a little oblivious sometimes, but he isn’t dumb; he knows that it can’t be anything good

it’s not really a surprise when the two of you are getting ready for a date night and he catches you doing the exact same thing

he doesn’t say anything as he crawls on the bed, choosing to relax as he waits for you to finish, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t worried

still, even with him wondering whether or not you’re okay, he can’t help but admire how pretty you look in that dress

the way it elegantly hugs your body, stopping at mid-thigh to reveal just enough of your pretty legs to draw him in, but not enough to send him feral

well, even more feral than usual that is; you could be dressed in a pair of ratty old pyjamas and that man would still find something to make his dick twitch

“mingi,” you say after a short while of him admiring you, “do you think i look alright?”

his brow furrows and he scoffs in dismay

he’s almost offended in a way because how dare someone say something like that about his girl?

then he remembers that you are his girl and the fact that you’re saying it should probably be more cause for concern than offense

“you look better than alright, princess,” he says, “you think i’d be sat here undressing you with my eyes if i didn’t?”

you send him a glare through the mirror

“that’s not the point, mingi,” you grumble, “i know you think i’m hot but…”

“but what?” he asks, voice thick with worry, “you’re not worried about what other people think of you, right?”

you begin to shake your head, although you feel like your denial isn’t necessarily true

so instead you shrug, and with a sigh you tear yourself away from the mirror so you can go and sit on the edge of the bed next to mingi

he budges his legs over, making space for you to perch yourself on the mattress

“i mean i guess so?” you say, “i just… i don’t want people thinking i look like a child or something, y’know?”

mingi doesn’t know - the last thing he thinks of you is ‘child’, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he can’t try and sympathise

he shifts one of his hands from behind his head to rub against your arm soothingly

“i don’t think you look like a child,” he says, “i think you look like my girlfriend; my very pretty, very sexy girlfriend, very mature-looking girlfriend.”

and while you appreciate his words, you can’t help but feel like they don’t mean much coming from him

it makes you feel bad, of course, but your boyfriend telling you you’re hot just doesn’t fill you with confidence about what everyone else thinks

“you don’t count,” you pout, “you have to think i’m hot.”

you don’t see the way mingi rolls his eyes before shoving himself into a sitting position

he shuffles his way over until he’s right behind you, close enough to swaddle your upper half in his overly-lengthy arms

he squeezes tight, just how he knows you like it

“i don’t have to think anything,” he kisses the spot just below your ear, “i think you’re hot because i have eyes and i can see that you’re hot.”

you can’t help but giggle as he nuzzled his nose into your neck, puffing out blasts of warm air against the sensitive skin

he always could find a way of making you laugh, even if in this situation, you’d personally class it as cheating

“well,” you say through your giggles, “i also have eyes and my eyes say the opposite!”

“yeah, but i don’t trust your eyes,” he kisses you, wet and sloppy and soft, against where your shoulder meets your neck, “they’re connected to your brain and me and your brain aren’t the best of friends.”

his hand move until they’re flat against your ribs, thumbs smoothing over the fabric of your dress

he almost wished the dress wasn’t there at all, wanting to feel the skin to skin contact, but he hardly thought now was the best time to ask you to strip

“you love my brain,” you counter, “my brain is me and you always tell me you love me!”

he smiles; you feel his teeth brush against you

“true,” he says, “but your brain is also mean to you, and anyone who’s mean to my baby is my enemy, okay?”

it’s a silly argument, but you can’t help but nod along in agreement

“good,” he says as he feels you give into his compliments, “now we have two choices; we either go out on the date, or we lie here and cuddle. it’s up to you, princess.”

you know which one he’d prefer; the way he’s stuck himself to you back like a limpet is enough evidence of that

but you can’t quite decide for yourself

one one hand you’re already dressed and made up, plus the fact that you’ve been wanting to go to this place for ages now and tables are really hard to book

on the other, taking the uncomfortable shoes off and crawling into bed next to your overly-clingy boyfriend seemed just so tempting

perhaps the choice isn’t that hard after all, you realise as you lean over - boyfriend still very much attached to you - to grab your makeup wipes

“pick a film, then,” you instruct as you take one out of the packet and begin to rub at your face, “and make it a good one!”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #mingi fluff #mingi x reader #mingi fanfic

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nexility-sims · 7 months

Text

𝐍𝐎. 𝟖 ❛ 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ❜ | THE DEN, MID MARCH 1991

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ Leonor had attended a recital just the day before, but this performance was an entirely different experience. She was unprepared for how arresting it would be. Without knowing, she had noticed the lead singer earlier that night, ostensibly holding court by the far edge of the bar, distracting the bartender with animated conversation. Leonor hadn’t heard anything she said, but her movements were full of energy, almost frenetic. Now, she held still. The bassist swayed from hip to hip. Behind them, the drummer stared out at the audience with a face full of shadows. Leonor thought the frontwoman resembled a pious statue as she stood there, chin tilted upward and eyes closed. The crowd hummed with impatient anticipation, but what she reflected back to them was unfazed tranquility. 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

❧ (the song here, as you perhaps could have guessed from the episode title, is meant to be "doll parts" by hole.) lightly phoned this one in BUT i'd rather keep moving than skip a week bc i was sick, so :^) this is an abridged version, and i'll post an unabridged version later today w/ a label for good measure !!! additionally, we are now done with the entirely self-indulgent red light filter, i promise sdfsdf

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

The very first chord sent a chill up Leonor’s spine. She watched, rapt, as the statue came to life in a fluid series of motions. Her voice was low and rough, not ethereal by any means but still somehow, to Leonor’s ears, exquisite. The lyrics washed over her unheard. She fixated wholly on the singing itself—on the emotion of it, how the crooning turned to a harsh quaver, within it a lament that felt more defiant than mournful. It was raw. The song’s inspiration, why this woman performed it as she did, was a mystery. It was the vulnerability of it that resonated. Leonor felt the emotion in her bones as she listened. Music was never her preferred outlet but, as she experienced the song, she wished it had been.

For these three minutes, Leonor was alone again. The stage’s pit had been packed with an eager, noisy audience that responded enthusiastically to every line of the song. As it became a concert for one, they faded. Leonor’s eyes followed the movement of the singer, how her lips parted and her fingers strummed the guitar she played. They existed together in a suspended moment outside of time. It might have occurred to her later that extending, even possessing, such a moment was well within her power. For enough money, she could have anyone’s private time—especially artists, people who needed and understood patronage. It wasn't it in the spirit of the venue, but neither was her very presence, arguably. However, she was entirely in the moment as it unfolded. Feelings welled up inside of her. Her skin prickled. Her eyes, too, felt the familiar sensation attendant to being overwhelmed.

Still, even euphoria had a blush of grief these days.

The song ended, and the bar's spirited ambience rushed back in like a sun-blocking wave. As she began speaking casually to the audience, the singer’s captivating voice changed. Whatever spell she had cast broke. Her friends remained enlivened, but Leonor felt only the desperate need to reclaim the quietude again. The minute of transition between unfamiliar songs felt like too long—too risky—of a wait. Perhaps the night had caught up with her. Or, perhaps, if she ducked into a quiet corner and collected herself, she could resume the admirable attempt at normalcy that had characterized the evening so far. That was her preferred outcome. She knew, on one level, that she was having fun. This momentary lapse wasn’t really an aberration, she feared, but she was determined to treat it as such.

Leonor turned to Kore instinctively, leaning close to exclaim the most convenient and innocuous escape valve within reach, “Where’s the restroom?”

TRANSCRIPT:

RENZO | Okay, settle down. Next up is a treat. The Fluke girls have a new song for us. This is a songwriter’s song, alright? Conceived in this building. Show some respect.

LEONOR | Where’s the restroom? KORE | Stairs, near the bar!

[Leonor sighs, door opening]

LEONOR | What are you doing here?

LEONOR | Oh—[Laughs]—sorry. RENZO | It’s a bathroom. Maybe I gotta piss.

RENZO | Hey, don’t leave. I’m kidding. Wanted to check on you. LEONOR | Really?

RENZO | Sort of. I also had an ulterior motive. LEONOR | Did you?

RENZO | I wanted to be alone with you again, too. LEONOR | You’re in luck.

RENZO | You know, you do look different in person. More real. LEONOR | I get that a lot. RENZO | Do you? Huh— LEONOR | [Snickers] No, of course not!

RENZO | So, what do you think— LEONOR | No more talking now, okay?

RENZO | I’ll show you the dressing rooms next time. LEONOR | Next time? [Chuckles]

#;long post #ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e03

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foxglovepng · 7 months

Note

Hello, first time requesting anything and I hope I do this right. I like what you've posted previously and I hope you enjoy this request idea.

I saw screenshots of a post recently about a TWST x Tinkerbell/Pirate Fairy event where shenanigans happens and everyone's UM's are switch around.

But what if Yuu got someone else's UM? Would they go power mad? OB by accident because they couldn't control the amount of magic? Just chill until the fairies corrected the switch? How would the owner of the UM deal with Yuu handling their power feel? And how would they feel about being magicless for the time being?

Suggested students are Grim, Azul, Jamil, Vil and Deuce, or anyone else you would prefer, all of them are fun options.

Hope you are doing well 💜

Characters: Idia, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Deuce, Jade, Malleus.

CW: Swearing, Probably an OOC Vil, Azul has a mental breakdown, Idia freaks out. SPOILERS FOR BOOK 6 (Idia), SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 (Malleus), Probably OOC most characters tbh.

A/N: I heavily loved this movie as a child and I still love it and watch it on occasion. I know this movie so well I can predict the dialogue :sob: I switched out Grim for Idia because I believe there is a mention that Grim had a curse in Book 6 (correct me if I am wrong) But it was while Idia was discussing some possible theories about the Overblots. Because I loved this movie so much and I am watching it as a I write I will be yapping...a lot. Like just yap yap yap yap and I will be making more parts to this because I have a lot of Ideas. I also added Malleus because he is the only one in Diasmonia with a confirmed/offical UM.

I will also be calling you the Fairy 🧚anon <3

Feel free to let me know which fairy(ies) are your favorite. I love Vidia and Fawn.

W/C: Didn't check Fox yaps a lot (2.540k, 7 pages)

NOT PROOFREAD

For context there will be a Mage like Zarina who was obviously an outcast and who was very innovative and wanted to discover new things (Such as the Fairy Dust) The way I imagine it the mage probably wanted to do things that were considered "Illegal" for Mage magic the NRC students ran into this person and they used their UM to switch the powers of students.

(Character's relationships can be read as platonic or romantic)

Deuce (Bet the Limit)

He is not worried. Although he'd be more concerned about Yuu accidentally using it mid class and hurting someone. His UM is mainly dependent on others attacks so I don't think there would be an issue about hurting someone deeply to the point of hospitalization.

He is worried about the fact he can't use magic anymore. He used his flaunt his magic a lot in middle school now he's not no power (Karma really came back for him didn't it)

If Yuu casually happens to get his ability to summon cauldrons it would be hilarious if Yuu dropped a cauldron "Accidentally" On Ace or Crowley's head. He'd feel bad, but It'd be funny.

(Insert video of Ace getting bashed in the head with a Cauldron but it's bad apple.)

He'd eventually adapt to losing his magic, but he does want to try and get it fixed.

He will help Yuu as much as he can with controlling his magic. If they have any questions he will gladly answer them and help to the best of his ability.

Yuu is least likely to go power mad due to Deuce's UM being low on the list for Powers that will make Yuu go bat-shit insane and commit world domination. (Yes I have an actual list)

When Yuu Overblots

He would probably cry like genuinely.

Yuu has gone through enough in TWST and when they finally snap he would be extremely worried for Yuu because he is scared they will get hurt badly/hurt others badly.

Deuce's UM is actually scary so when it comes to overblotting Yuu could hurt A LOT of people.

Riddle's UM won't be able to help and Yuu could just basically absorb every attack that hits them.

Yuu could probably kill someone with his power and that is a really scary though to think about.

(Deuce can too since it is quite his power)

On a skill level there is a possibility Yuu could lose control of the magic, on a power level they could injure a lot of people. Either way Yuu and other people will be getting hurt.

If they somehow stop Yuu's overblot GET THEM THERAPY INSTANTLY make Leona or someone else rich pay for it.

Deuce would look like a sad puppy because he just witnessed his friend he deeply cares about just snap. Probably wouldn't leave Yuu's side while they recover.

He probably feels the most guilty as he couldn't do anything and wished he could have helped more.

Peep Grim crying about his henchman.

If Yuu DOES kill someone um mage jail? or how would that work since they aren't from TWST would they like be in custody in their own world???? because quite literally they have no information on Yuu to send them to Mage Jail.

I'm done yapping moving on

Azul (It's a Deal)

Instant panic attack instantly.

Considering his backstory and why he is becoming a Mage he would definitely freak out over not having his powers. Bro needs his octopot.

When he learns it was Yuu who got his powers he would feel a bit more relieved

"Yuu can I have my powers back? just make a deal with me."

"HOW TF DO I DO THAT????"

Jade and Floyd are laughing their asses off when he tries to teach you how magic works. They are not going to do anything to help AT ALL.

Azul does NOT feel happy about being powerless at ALL. He has a business to keep running and Yuu is struggling.

I can imagine Yuu accidentally making a contract and stealing someone else's power and then having to keep THAT ONE under control.

Overall I feel like Azul makes top 5 of "Yuu will have a panic attack from being unable to control this power"

Azul would probably adjust to the change but he would not be happy with it at all.

There is a possibility Yuu could go power mad, but Azul is based on capitalism Yuu is not. They would probably only go power mad as a way for threatening/bargaining to go home.

When Yuu Overblots

Pray Yuu has the power under control

Azul's Overblot 2.0 except no tentacles

Azul tries to help the best he can and then gets blasted with magic right in the face. (L bozo)

When Yuu just snaps Azul wishes he could of down more, but he realizes he only was helping Yuu for himself. Not for them. They had to deal a lot and he probably was the one that broke the camels back for them to overblot.

On a skill level and Power level it would probably be the same as Azul's however Yuu has less control over the power.

Yuu is getting back for when he overblotted. /hj

When Yuu unoverblots Azul gives them an apology and also starts the process for them to see a therapist. Probably get's an earful from Deuce and Ace about pushing Yuu over the edge.

Jade (Shock The Heart)

Is not worried.

He doesn't need magic to intimidate people although he needs magic to obtain information.

"Oya? it appears the prefect has my power."

You know how Azul and Deuce would help? He wouldn't

When it comes to Jade's power it can easily be exploited to gain all kinds of information from someone and in the wrong hand's world domination can be caused.

Yuu gets help anyway from Tweedle Dee and Dum over at Heartslabyul.

Yuu would accidentally use Jade's power on people and would probably gain information they wouldn't want to know and probably has gotten traumatized.

Begs Jade to take his power back and he just giggles at Yuu. He is fine with not using Magic, but it is funny to see Yuu attempt to use his magic.

He's enjoying you struggle. However if it gets to a certain point he may help keyword may.

When Yuu overblots

No one is worried lmao.

I mean overblotting is bad, but Jade's power is like so??? normal?? that an overblot would be dangerous, but his conditions are it can only be used once so if Yuu acivates it they probably wouldn't be able to use it again.

hopefully..

If not they are royally fucked tbh.

Jade can't do anything at all and probably will get grilled later for not helping Yuu.

When they unoverblot Yuu Jade is the first one to get them to the infirmary carrying them bridal style (slay king) and making sure they recieve proper treatment. Also apologises for not helping them learn as he was worried they would go power mad.

Jamil (Snake Whisperer)

He is flipping out.

Number 1. Yuu just got this power and barely can control it IMAGINE WHAT COULD HAPPEN.

(Manipulate Crowley into sending them home)

Number 2. Jamil needs his magic and as Kalims retainer he needs it more than Yuu :sob:

Jamil is already stressed out with wrangling Kalim 24/7 now he has this on his hands. Bro just might overblot from stress.

Either way he helps Yuu with gaining control because Yuu almost made Ace choke on his food from accidentally using the UM. And almost made Jack run into a tree (It was funny actually)

We all know how Jamil's overblot turned out someone call up the Octotrio to deal with this again.

There is a possibility Yuu could go power mad. However Yuu is a sweetheart (possibly) and wouldn't control their friends.. right?

Jamil physically can't adjust to being magicless and tries to literally hunt the person down but fails miserably.

When Yuu overblots

I dare Yuu to throw everyone who's fighting so Jamil can get yeeted too (I'd be funny I swear)

Jamil overblot 2.0 except Yuu loses control and accidentally brainwashes everyone. whoops

Jamil got his Karma from brainwashing the whole dorm

Wait if he can brainwash the whole dorm could he brainwash all of NRC? 😨

When Yuu snaps Yuu is coming for everyone INCLUDING CROWLEY his ass is not getting saved.

I pray for everyone who is fighting Yuu. Compared to Deuce's though I'd rather get brainwashed tbh.

If Yuu somehow manages to get pulled out Kalim is making sure everyone who was affected is okay and Jamil is rushing Yuu to the infirmary. When Yuu snaps it would be dreadful tbh and I don't think people would make it out of this OB with Yuu unless they physically got hurt to the point of unconsciousness, or Malleus was like "No don't overblot you're too sexy aha".

Jamil also apologizes for not being able to do enough and makes sure Yuu sees a therapist.

Snake whisperer overblot Yuu and Bet the Limit overblot Yuu are genuinely scary and I'm terrified.

Vil (Fairest One of All)

Instant panic

Vil's UM is so powerful that when a curse is placed with conditions it cannot be lifted even with Vil's interference unless the conditions are met.

Imagine Yuu with that power. Crowley suddenly has a way for Yuu to get home.

Vil would be more concerned with his potato having a power they CANNOT control. Yuu will be accidentally placing curses on people.

Ace would suddenly get paralyzed from the neck down and Yuu didn't know how they did it.

Yuu accidentally paralyzing people is crazy.

Vil helps Yuu try to gain control of the power but has a really hard time.

This is another one where if Yuu were to overblot it would be because they accidentally use the UM too much and are stressed because of it.

Vil doesn't mind being magicless however do NOT let his father figure that out he might force Vil out of NRC into modeling.

When Yuu overblots

Uncontrolled curse magic with a stressed-out overblotting Yuu. Yeah this is up there with Bet the limit and Snake Whisperer.

Someone is probably dying.

Vil almost killed Neige for gods sake imagine what YUU COULD DO.

Vil tried to curse Yuu mid overblot but forgot he couldn't use magic.

Vil is actively sending Rook after the mage who switched powers. Vil wants his potato back.

If Yuu manages to snap out of an OB Vil is also the one making sure Yuu gets treatment. He will also pay for their therapy and treatments.

When Vil gets his hand on the mage she will not be existing anymore /hj

!!!SPOILERS FOR IDIA AND MALLEUS BELOW SPOILERS I REPEAT SPOILERS I SAID SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!!!

You have been warned

Idia (Game, Set, Match)

Every time I say Yuu is terrifying with a certain OB It gets worse. (I should make a list tbh)

Idia is freaking the hell out. Probably has a panic attack but we aren't there yet.

Idia's UM literally control the gates to the underworld and basically keeps the blot monsters in and if Yuu accidentally opens that.

I pray for everyone's safety.

Idia has probably headed a warning about this and is actively hunting down the mage. Ortho is helping too.

This is one of those where I say Yuu should not have it because with one wrong move and hundreds if not thousands of people could get hurt.

Idia is panicking Yuu is panicking Ortho is trying to calm them down.

Yuu most likely overblots because Idia is freaking them out, and they don't want to open the gates to hell.

I wonder if one of his parents could also open and close the gate with their magic that will literally help.

When Yuu overblots

Run everyone the gates of hell opened again.

If I had a nickel for every time someone overblotted and opened the gates of hell I'd have two nickels. It's not a lot of nickels, but it is weird that it happened twice.

Idia is making sure the literal gates of hell did NOT open, and surely enough they did.

Crowley is probably getting sued

In Theory the battle could be easy however when it comes to the UM someone tell Yuu to close the gates.

Blot monster domination 2.0

Ortho manages to hunt the mage down, but only until after the overblot is over and the gates have opened.

Idia completely forgot about Yuu's condition so when they switched powers he was more focused on closing the gate. He got grilled for that by Ace and Deuce who carried Yuu to the nurses.

I feel like this one is scary but more in the sense that Yuu has the power to the hell world.

Malleus (Fae of Maleficence)

Do I even need to say how bad this would be?

I know damn well most of Diasmonia is tweaking that Waka Sama just lost his power.

When Malleus learns it's Yuu he's more worried about them being stressed out over this and tries to help them the best way he could and even gets Lilia in on it.

Malleus is one of the top 5 mages in the world Yuu is probably one panic attack away from overblotting and putting everyone's ass to sleep.

Malleus is also concerned about the possibility of an overblot so he is definitely trying to keep them from overblotting. Whatever his child of man needs he will snap his fingers and it's done.

Yuu wants a massage? Malleus will arrange that. Yuu needs food he will buy Yuu some. Yuu wants ice cream? He wants some too. Yuu wants a fucking break? He will threaten Crowley for one.

He understands the power that was given to Yuu is a lot handle and will accommodate his Child of man (They are getting married after this)

He is also sending Silver and Sebek after the mage and the mage may or may not be existing after he finds her.

When Yuu overblots

As of 2/26/24 not all of Diasmonia has been updated/finished so I have no information as to how it will end/ how his overblot will go. But let's just imagine it.

Malleus fell into a dream world where he got to be happy with his Child of Man. He is King, he has children, and he's with his Child of Man happily. :SOBBING:

When he get pulled out from the dream he's like why :( probably all pouty since it was a good dream. And then remembers Yuu overblotted and is like no my child of man.

He is the first one to instantly get Yuu help bro can't teleport, but he can run and if he can still turn into a dragon he can fly.

He apologizes to Yuu even though he did all he could he still feel like he could have done more. He gets Yuu all of the treatments they need instantly and when the mage switches back their powers she is deader than his Mom.

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actuallyadhd · 1 month

Note

Hello, I know you haven't posted in a while so I understand if you don't reply to this, but I could definitely use some advice.

I haven't gotten round to getting tested for ADHD, but I have a lot of the symptoms. I really struggle to sit still, I often blurt things out and interrupt people, I can't seem to remember basically anything, I get way too emotional over small things, and more.

The thing is, these symptoms seem to be getting progressively worse. I will hear something and then completely forget what I heard minutes after, forget what I'm talking about mid conversation, haven't gone to sleep on time because I've been pacing in my room and throwing a bouncy ball and eventually scrolling on my phone in bed because I can't get to sleep, I'm late a lot more than usual (I have to go out tomorrow and I'm hoping I'll get up on time, alarms don't work).

But the biggest thing is this: I keep stopping and starting things. I have loads of sideblogs I haven't posted on for days because I started them with huge passion and then either got bored or forgot about them (or both.) I've been thinking about starting a new ask blog, but at the same time I know I won't come back to it.

Do you have any advice for how to manage this?

Sent August 1, 2024

It sounds like things are cascading, which can be super overwhelming.

I always start with what I call The Big Four: diet, exercise, sleep, and stress. If any one of these is out of whack, everything gets harder. This is true for non-ADHDers as well, but for us it’s more important because of how our brains work.

So, first, think about how you’ve been eating lately. Are you getting enough protein? Brains run on glucose, so carbs are also necessary, but aiming for whole grains and the like is better for long-term functioning. Are you eating *enough*? As in, do you forget to eat meals? Do you snack a lot, and if you do, are you going for quick sugar hits?

Next up is exercise. Regular movement is important. Taking active breaks when you get distracted can help to reset your brain so you can focus again when you come back. Exercise also adds endorphins, which boost your mood and can help increase energy and focus for longer. These effects build up over time, so you won’t see results right away, but if you can make it happen there will be benefits!

As for sleep, you’ve noted that you’re struggling to fall asleep. That’s a really common thing for ADHDers, and we have loads of suggestions here to help. Some of the best ideas I’ve seen include listening to podcasts or watching ASMR videos, white noise machines or a fan, reading a book (not an e-book unless your e-reader doesn’t use blue light), or doing some kind of a puzzle book in bed.

Stress can be really hard to manage, especially if anything else is off since that adds to your stress. The best way to handle this is to have a set time each day where you do something fun and relaxing.

You may find that this doesn’t quite hit the spot. So I have a couple more things to look into.

First, it’s pretty normal for us to run into problems when our responsibilities increase. More responsibility means more load on our executive functions, so things start falling apart a bit as we struggle to find a way to make everything happen. Change is hard!

Second, our age and hormones can have an impact on things. If you menstruate, estrogen levels have a huge impact on functioning. It is a very important part of the brain’s glucose delivery system, so when estrogen is low so is glucose. (There are other ways glucose gets to the brain, estrogen is just the most efficient.)

As for age, when you hit certain ages (early childhood and puberty are best known) your brain makes a ton of new connections, and that can make a lot of things harder that weren’t before. This is because your brain is dedicating itself to other things, and often those “lost” skills return once it’s done with the stage.

So think about all of these things and consider whether one or more might be affecting you. Once you know what’s going on, it will be easier to figure out how to deal with it.

Followers, do you have any ideas for managing these issues? Please share!

-J

#ADHD #Actually ADHD #asks #anonymous #bad brain days #hormones #diet #exercise #development #sleep

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ppushable · 2 months

Text

just us.

jean kirschtein x gn!reader / oneshot / wc: 9.4k

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

It's the last summer of high school and it's time to grow up. Too bad I have to do it without you.

Nights like this I wish could last forever: just us in the rain.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

ao3 tags:

FUCK / Alternate Universe - High School / or the tail end of it / Reader-Insert / gender neutral reader / How Do I Tag / Kissing / Angst / Fluff and Angst / Growing Up / Separations / Rain / Late Night Conversations / POV First Person / Present Tense / Pining / French-Speaking Jean Kirstein / Reader is emotional / theres some music for this too / Don't Examine This Too Closely

to make some things clear:

it's the last summer after high school (i.e. about to enter university)

based in canada which is basically the us but it doesn't really matter

reader is gender neutral (let me know if something seems off)

we don't know Connie in this one

i also got some songs which i thought fit the mood based on what was playing as i wrote. the songs will be indicated (==) in the writing. here's the queue:

dream, ivory; dream, ivory

heart to heart; mac demarco

little person; matt maltese

cry; cigarettes after sex

everything; the black skirts

if you're on iphone, i recommend doing the rain sounds when it rains, but it's up to you. without further ado ♥

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

== dream, ivory

The rock I’ve been kicking skids off the edge of the sidewalk, into the dark grass. I already miss the feeling of its bump against my foot. I’m going to miss a lot of things. Even before I finish the thought the familiar feeling of dread rises up from the depths of my gut.

Shush.

Jean’s face is illuminated harshly directly below the streetlight, hair glowing as if powdered in some otherworldly dust, shadows hard and soft defining and redefining themselves as we walk. Aimless wandering, that’s all we’re doing, but I’d rather be doing this than anything else. I’d rather be with him.

I almost miss the signature little smirk on his face mid-head turn but double take in time to see it grow.

“What? You like what you see?”

Well, yeah.

But I stick the side of my finger against his teeth and he squirms. “Wh— hey! What was that?” There’s a chuckle between those words, though, and it makes me want to crack open like a stupid little egg and pour out all the feelings I have for him onto this very concrete, cover it with my devotion, stain it forever and ever. But all that comes out is a laugh and that’ll have to be enough.

“You’re annoying, you know that?”

“I was just asking you an honest question!” He holds up his hand as if preaching. “Honest to god, hand on the bible.”

Okay, Jean. “And if I said no?”

He has the nerve to look offended. “Then I’d know you’re lying.”

“Fff,” I huff, and I have to turn away because the grin on my face is at a dangerous level. “This boy. You’re too full of yourself.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Jean says smugly. “But you like me that way, don’t you?” His arm hooks my waist to pull me closer and I do the same, gripping the back of his Stohess University hoodie. At this point this position is second nature — no more awkward touching or not-so-subtle shifting. Now we’re like… two stones in a river that just happen to fit together like pieces of a puzzle. That’s right, us, the walking pebbles, down the dark streets of 3 AM that would be scary under any other circumstance.

Happy as can be.

Until summer ends, at least.

Sometimes I want to rip that hoodie off him and tear it into a million pieces, destroy the place that wants to take him from me so badly. But it makes him happy. It makes him really fucking happy. And who am I to take that away from him?

“Hey,” he says, and I loosen my grip on the thick cloth before he notices the pulling.

“Yeah?”

I feel his voice, a low hum against my side, just as much as I hear it. “What’re you thinking about?”

The windows of the houses around us are empty, void. It’s strange, isn’t it? To think that in every house is a different life, multiple lives which I’ll never know. An entire life with emotions and memories and experiences and desires. A human animal. “You, of course.”

He doesn’t respond at first and when we pass under another streetlight his face is a little redder than before, all across his nose and cheeks and ears, and it takes a lot not to stop right there and throw myself on him. I love it when he does that, when he proves that his bad-boy front is just that. A front. “Hah. What a flirt.”

Leaning in, I say, “I learned it from the best, didn’t I?”

“So you’re—” his face pulls even closer, and we stop under the broken buzz of a streetlight— “calling me a flirt.”

My feet scrape the concrete as I turn on the spot and drape my arms over his shoulders. Trepidation lines my bones and leeches into my legs, drop by drop. “Maybe,” I say, and I feel the air of my breath off his reddened skin. Gorgeous, gorgeous. I wait for him to close the little distance between us, which might as well have been no distance at all, because when we touch, when I feel the familiar, burning warmth of his lips pressing against mine, I… I forget what I was thinking about.

I claw for his neck, the hair I begged him to grow out that I know will look so good on him, I need us to be closer, and he knows, pulling my body into his with his arms against the curve of my back, chest to chest, pelvis to hardening pelvis. I huff into his mouth from the sudden pressure and Jean takes me up again immediately after the brief separation without a breath to spare with a little moan, leading me stumbling backwards to god knows where but I trust him. I love the way the world just goes. My back hits something hard and I grunt from pain which just makes Jean snap and double down harder, reach further, a futile attempt to satisfy the beastly desire in my core that grows with every passing second.

“Ah…”

I love his hand lowering to the small of my back, the way it trembles, the way it goes lower. The other slides under my shirt, roaming well-travelled areas, but that doesn’t make it any less enticing. I cling to the back of his head like my life depends on it because it very well might, following his every small movement like it’s the guiding star. He opens up for a quick huff of air and I use this opportunity to take the reins; to plunge deeper.

I love how his hair feels. And when I pull it just right he makes a helpless noise into my mouth and oh fuck I could fold for him right now.

I love how disgusting we are. Probing every part of each other with our tongues. The little pits in the skin of his cheeks. Heat in my core. Heat in my brain. Heat between our bodies. The taste of him.

I love how I don’t know where I end and he begins. Burning lungs. Pull harder and he groans louder and I don’t know what noise belongs to who. Can you tell dogs apart by their bark?

I love his taste. Desire for air, but greater desire for him . His hand stops now in that place he knows I love, skin to burning skin, but the other never moves, keeping me locked in place. Need to be closer. Just us.

I love his eyes, half-lidded but brimming with want. A fistful of his locks, tightening. Mind going places my hands can’t. Not here, not now.

I love…

Just when I think my heavy heart is about to give out, we separate, the heat is gone, and we gasp for air both, separating the line of drool that connects us with a blistering snap. Colours come back. My head drops to his shoulder and his warm breath lands in the sensitive crook of his neck as he lets his hand slide out of my top and return to the small of my back with the other. I keep mine firmly anchored around his neck. We pant like mutts in the street, unmoving save for the heaving of our chests. The buzzing of the streetlight returns, but it never really left, did it? We did.

I hope he likes me back as much as I do him. I hope he’s not doing this because he has to. Swallowing takes up precious time; immediately after I’m back to laboured breathing. If he’s anything but happy I’ll recede into the darkest, damndest reaches of the Earth so he can enjoy the sun. I would never tell him that, though. I hope I’m not… I hope I’m not too much.

Maybe a little too abruptly I let go of him and he does the same after a moment's delay, a little reluctantly, but I’m imagining it. I wipe my lip before smiling. “You flirt.”

Running a finger across his mouth, Jean scoffs, a hint of his softer side still showing through as if his usual act hasn’t fully hardened yet. “You started it.”

“Hardly.”

“Do I need to bring out the case files?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Do I need to pull out the evidence?”

“Evidence being what, exactly?” I point to his pants pockets. “You have a little pocket hamster witness? Or a boob camera?”

Gasping lightly — yet still maintaining a tone of exaggeration — his arms fly up: one to cover his chest, and the other his crotch. “You’re lucky my ass doesn’t report you right now.”

Obnoxiously, I smack my lips, run my tongue over my teeth, and stick my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants. “I bet that ass can do a lot of things, princess. Walking all alone at night. Isn’t it dangerous?” I produce a crude rendering of Jean’s own smirk (to cover my own growing smile) while flipping my hair. “Let a handsome man escort you to your house.”

His act drops immediately. “Okay, you’re a little too good at this.”

I laugh.

“No, like seriously—” he raises his voice a bit to be heard clearly a smile grows on his face— “you’re creeping me out.”

“Hush, you.” With unspoken agreement we start walking again. “I need to keep up my creepy guy persona in case I’m ever approached.”

“What, your plan is to outcreep the creep?” He shakes his head. “Good luck with that one.”

I make my voice go gravelly again while making a squishing motion. “Let a man cop a feel. It’s the least you could do for all his hard work.”

“Okay, first of all, no, stop that. Secondly,” he says, pushing my hand away, “nobody’s gonna approach you as long as I’m—”

He freezes, then closes his mouth and swallows, Adam’s apple pushing back down the words unsaid. As long as I’m around . The dreadful feeling comes back like cold lead in my veins. But you’re gonna be around for long, are you, Jean?

We reach the junction directly between two streetlights, the darkest point of the sidewalk. There usually aren’t many stars where we live; regardless of the weather, city lights always blot out the little speckles in the sky that are supposed to just appear every night like in the pictures. Jean always wanted to see them. The Milky Way. The closest thing we have to a galaxy are the fluorescent glows of store signs that reflect off the bricked walls of the apartment buildings and cracked asphalt roads.

“Hey,” I murmur, linking my arm through his and pointing at the splash of white light down the street. “Let’s go over there.”

“What, the 7-11?”

“Let’s get snacks and have a picnic together.”

A little chuckle escapes him. “At this time of night?” He doesn’t allow time to respond. “Well, alright.”

The mechanical beep greets us as the door opens. As expected, the place is empty, resided only by the eye-chokingly bright junk food packages haphazardly lining the shelves. My warped figure in the security camera screen hanging from the ceiling holds open the door for Jean and he steps through. He hasn’t been properly illuminated in a while so I take the opportunity to drink him in a little. There’s some darkness under his eyes and the scruff beginning to grow on his chin is getting longer than he prefers it (shaved off completely). His jaw clenches and unclenches seemingly at random as if he’s chewing gum, but he’s probably biting the inside of his mouth. It’s a nasty habit of his, and it never means anything good. He’s probably stressed about university.

I sniff. Lysol. This place is a little too normal, a dip back into the waters of everyday. “Do you have your wallet?”

He stops and taps his pants pockets — first the back, then the front — and nods. “Yeah, I got my card.”

“Sugar daddy me?”

A blush rises to the occasion and he rolls his eyes with a quick “yeah” before disappearing into the aisles. He hates getting flustered (but loves to inflict it on me) and does so at the weirdest things. In his own words, blushing is a ‘boner for your face.’ Okay, Jean. So what if I want to see you pop face boners. You like seeing mine, don’t you?

I scurry after him, scanning the items in his hold. “Strawberry Pocky. Black Doritos. Cola gummies.”

He holds out his arm so I can see better.

“Nothing healthy? Nothing wet?”

“Okay, first of all, it’s a 7-11. Healthiest thing here is the air quality. Second of all.” He sets his palm on top of my head. “We’re getting there, alright? And don’t say wet.”

“Nothing moist.”

The flat hand turns into a fist and knocks lightly once on my skull. “Can’t win with you, eh?”

I flick his hand away and we keep weaving through the aisles. Marshmallows.

Picking up the bag of sweets I stare at, Jean says, “we’re never gonna finish all these, y’know.”

“I know.”

“What happened to getting healthy stuff?”

“You walk so slowly that I have to pick up everything I see. Or I’ll be understimulated and die.”

“Understimulated, huh?” he muses. I look up at his face but he’s reading the wrapper. “Maybe you’re my pocket hamster. Like a lab rat. Do I need to put you in a really big maze?” He shakes the bag like it’s cat treats and shoots me a smug look. “I’ll use these instead of cheese. If you solve the puzzle right I’ll toss you one so you have something to munch on.”

I don’t dignify him with a response. Steeling my fingers, I plunge them into his front pocket.

The impact wracks through him, nearly making him drop the package. “Wh—”

“Won’t fit.” I shake my head and wiggle my fingers. “I can’t be your pocket hamster.”

I swear a tiny bead of sweat accumulates on his cheek but he’s quick to scratch it away. “I can make you fit.”

“Really?”

His eyes narrow. “You know more than anyone that I can make things fi—”

“Oh, hey.”

My head snaps toward the new voice — it’s the cashier, appearing from a door to take his place behind the counter. His grey hair’s been buzzed short (he hovers around our age despite the colour), almost to the point of bald, and various piercings on his face gleam even in the horrible 7-11 lighting as he cocks his head. “Sorry, didn’t notice you guys come in. Need anything at all?”

“No, we’re good,” I say, subtly (I think) sliding my hand out of Jean’s pocket. Was the pocket thing too much? I overstepped again, didn’t I? “Thanks, though.”

The cashier nods once — I’m too far away to see his nametag but not the exhaustion that leaks out of him like a broken tap — and messes with something under the table. My gaze once again finds Jean’s and he looks like he’s seen a ghost which almost makes me feel like laughing. His big hand encloses mine and he leads me somewhere out of sight. Slurpee machines. They start humming as Jean lets me go and pinches the bridge of his nose as if on cue. “That was a little too close. Oh my god.” He chuckles lightly and it’s muffled. “He nearly saw us.”

When he drops his hand and meets my eye the humour disappears in a flash; gravity immediately weighs down his features. “Is something wrong? Did I say something?”

“No!” I didn’t even say anything yet and he’s already this serious. Guilt settles already; why did I make him feel bad? “No. It’s— you did nothing wrong. I’m sorry.” I shoot for a grin and hit a grimace. “I’m just kinda tired.”

“Yeah. You look tired. Darling.” The word is raspy with the breath of his throat yet also strangely tender, as if uttered through honey, and we both pause at the new label. Darling. He called me darling. It’s getting warm. “Sorry. That sounded stupid, didn’t it?”

== heart to heart

Darling . “Dont— no! It’s not stupid at all! I— um.” I put a hand on his shoulder and Jean, recognizing the cue, leans his tree of a body down so he can stare straight into my eyes. “It was really… it was really cute. You should…” I trace a crack in the floor that reveals dark grout underneath while idly tucking some of his hair behind his ear. “Use that name on me again.”

A little huff escapes him, brushes against my lips, and I’m compelled to look into those eyes again. Brown, hazel, green; depending on the lighting or weather they can be any of those colours, but I always find myself falling in regardless. There’s no reason for it. How layers of cells and pigments can trap me so hopelessly like it’s hypnosis, how even a scraping glance reminds me of our bests and worsts, how I want to look in there forever and ever, a bottomless well of all that was and could be and all that I want. “Well, since it’s got you looking all red like this, I really should.”

I just hope that you feel the same. I hope my thoughts are wrong. I hope I don’t make you uncomfortable. I hope that I can be good enough for you (but how can I)?

And I wish, I really fucking wish, that

we never lose each other

but I know it’s going to happen anyway

It’s going to happen anyway

and it hurts.

It hurts like a teddy bear on the ground in an abandoned house. A cracked picture frame. Sleepless nights with only tomorrow for comfort. Returning, over and over again, to the places I keep promising myself not to go to.

Knowing that, at some point, we’ll walk together for the last time. Kiss each other for the last time. Eat together, dance together, listen to the same song together for the last time.

So I’ll walk alone. I’ll pleasure myself. I’ll eat alone, dance alone, listen to that song until it becomes monotonous and you’ll become a stranger or a ghost or die forever and the initials so painfully carved into my heart will become fetid. Everywhere I look I’ll see your face and hear your voice and feel your warmth and smell your breath. I’ll do it, I’ll fucking do it and loathe every moment of it.

Oh, Jean, if only we could run away and gossip and lay in the sun together somewhere far away where there’s a big field and lots of flowers and a clear stream that brings us cool, fresh water and berries from the forest. Where it’s always daytime, except when it’s not, and I’ll weave flowers into your beautiful hair and you’ll do the same for me and we’ll look to the open sky, with nothing to obstruct us, no buildings, no wires, no light, and there are so many stars, beautiful and so bright, so wonderful that it’ll take your breath away like a little kid seeing dinosaurs and we’ll lay for hours in the weeds together and just look at them until the sun comes back up. And we’ll be so happy we’ll cry. Just us and nothing else.

But I know that what I want isn’t what you want. I know that. So I’ll do the right thing. I’ll do the right thing! I said I’ll do it, so leave me alone.

Now Jean’s breath rustles my hair. “Hey.”

At some point I started looking at his shoes. They’re creased and dirty. Not because he can’t afford them, but because he doesn’t know how to take care of his stuff. “Really, Jean.” I suck in a big breath disguised as a yawn to maybe disguise the wetness — sorry, moistness — of my eyes and point at his feet. “You’re like a little kid sometimes.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“So dirty.”

“My shoes? It’s only a little bit.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“It looks cool like that. Doesn’t it look cool like that?”

“Okay, Jean.” The slurpee machine hums again and I’m drawn to the mechanical whirring. Who cares if there’s rat poop or salmonella or whatever in there. I’m a little thirsty and my throat could use some loosening before I start croaking.

“It— it’s cool, right?” Jean leans against the wall, right behind the stack of cups that jut out horizontally, packed together so densely the transparent plastic becomes opaque. I slide one out of the holder and snap one of the lids out of their holders, too, and combine them before angling the cup under one of the spouts.

“I dunno, Jean,” I say, pushing down the plunger. Synthetic heaven plops into the cup, making it jump at the initial impact. I look back in time to see him get a cup of his own. “You’ll have to ask yourself that.”

“That usually means no,” he says glumly, setting his cup down to fill. “It’s fine.” He’ll be getting coke on the bottom and cherry on the top, like he always does. “I know how to use a laundry machine. Just like you taught me.”

Sliding my cup underneath a different spout, I smile. “Good boy. You’re learning so well.”

Jean watches his cup overflow.

“Oh. Jean. Jean .” I grab his wrist and take his hand off the lever. I shouldn’t have said that. “Wake up, Jean.” His face matches the artificially dyed cherry smeared over the hand he’s using to hold the cup and I laugh. “Jean, come on. We have to ask the guy for paper towels.” I pull him back in the direction we came from. “ Jean .”

“I’m coming.” He takes a few heavy steps before pulling himself together, tensed as if electrified.

The guy behind the counter has earbuds in with the wires wrapped backwards around his ears and doesn’t notice us until we’re a few paces away. He jumps and fumbles to take one out. “Uh, you guys ready to check out?” His eyes, maybe a little wider than they should be given the circumstances, are drawn to Jean’s hand. “You’re… just getting the one slurpee?”

“Uh, no, we… our stuff is back with the slurpee machine.” What am I saying? Jean’s always been the better one at talking. “We, uh, need to clean up. Paper towels!” I squeeze Jean’s hand but it seems he’s still in stupor, melted cherry slushy dripping to the floor.

“Oh,” is all the cashier says.

“Can we have some paper towels, please?” I continue. “We made a mess with the machine.”

The cashier seems to relax a bit. “Oh.”

“I’m really sorry. We’ll help clean up. Like, you don’t even need to do anything, just tell us where the paper towels are—”

“No, it’s all good, it’s my job. Plus it gets pretty boring here y’know?” He smiles and his teeth are crooked. “I’ll grab ‘em.” And he disappears behind the employee-only door.

I wait a second or two before elbowing Jean lightly.

“Ow!”

“You alright, zombie?” I ask, trying not to let too much tease slip into my voice.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” He looks at his slurpee-d hand, brings it to his face, and wraps his lips around the base of his thumb to slurp the area where the juice drips out. Then his mouth opens a bit more and his tongue inches out, up the side of his palm against the cup, in and out, motions intended to lap up every last drop of the juice like it was never even there in the first place. His other hand rubs firm circles into mine as he goes back to licking the base of his thumb, making small slurping noises. “Mmm,” he moans as he runs his tongue from his hand to the tip of the cup, and now I realize his smug eyes have been on me the whole time, “tastes good. Un goût de paradis. ”

“You didn’t pay for that,” I say as flatly as possible without bursting on the spot.

“It’s fine, it’s just the drops.” He smirks. “You’d change your mind if you knew what it tasted like.”

“And what does it taste like?”

“Maybe,” his leer deepens as he leans in, pulling my hand gently, “I could show you. But…” he pulls back at the last second. “Nah!”

It smacks me in the face like a dead fish. “You— Kirsch—” use your big girl words!— “bastard.”

He chuckles as something metal drops behind the door; another few seconds and the cashier comes back out with a thick roll of the brown paper towels they use in bathrooms (the ones that can’t absorb for shit). “Sorry about the wait,” he huffs, one earbud still clinging to his ear as the other dangles from the neckline of his green uniform. “Hard to find anything in there.” He opens a little side door to get out from behind the counter and his feet drag a little as he walks toward the slurpee machines. Looking over his shoulder, he says, “you guys are coming, right?”

“Right behind you.” Jean calls, this time leading me back.

The cashier tears some of the paper and starts mopping up some of the stuff on the grill, though only succeeds in pushing the little chunks that are left into the gutter. He clicks his tongue and starts murmuring Spanish obscenities.

“Here.” Jean hands me a piece of paper towel and I take it, getting to work on the ground. The cashier shuffles aside to make room and I utter a quick thanks. As expected, the towels don’t really absorb, but push the liquid around.

“Maybe you should lick this up, too,” I tease as Jean kneels beside me.

“Funny.”

But we do manage to clean it up. We toss the soiled paper into a hole built into the slurpee counter for garbage as the cashier continues to scrape the grill. He sighs, bringing his hand up while balling up the napkin and letting it slap against the side of his thigh. “No use here, I’ll get it later. But, uh, thanks for helping out.” Nodding, he tosses the garbage at the garbage hole and misses.

Jean bats it in for him. “No problem, man.”

He nods again. I can see his name tag, now that he’s closer:

CONNIE

“It was nothing, really,” I smile. “Thanks, Connie.”

“I’ll be at the counter when you guys’re ready.” He returns the gesture before shuffling away.

“Well.” Jean collects our little hoard. “You think this is enough?”

Pocky, gummies, chips, marshmallows. And the slurpees. “I know that’s enough.” I cling to his arm like a parasite. “Let’s go.”

Jean pays, we say our goodbyes to Connie, and then we leave. Back to the buzzing and the empty sky, just the same as before, except with food and a vague destination in mind.

“You know,” I say, swallowing the slurpee still in my mouth, “did that guy seem familiar? Or is it just me?”

“The cashier?”

“Yeah, Connie.”

“Huhh…” Jean licks his lips which are already cherry red. “I don’t think I’ve seen him around school before. But you’re right, he does seem familiar. It’s weird.”

“Maybe,” I muse, throwing him a teasing look, “in another life, you guys did laundry and taxes together.”

“No way,” he chuckles. “We definitely would’ve done something cooler together. Like, fight giants, or something.”

“Giants.” I grin. “Tell me about these giants.”

He shrugs. “They’re big. And they’re naked all the time.”

“Wooow.”

“What?” he laughs. “They don’t have enough cloth to make clothes so they just go naked all the time! Except in Malaysia.”

“What?”

“And they run really weird, and the girl giants have these—” he charades huge boobs— “giant tits—”

“What about the guy giants?”

He pauses. “They don’t have anything.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing at all?”

He scowls. “Why do you wanna know so bad?”

“Nothing.” I shrug. “Are the giants good-looking, at least?”

“The important ones are.”

“Hmm.” I take another slurp. “So I could have a cute, important, constantly naked, big tiddie giant girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Huh?”

“All the giants wanna eat people.”

“Eat people, huh? I can live with that.”

Jean snorts and rolls his eyes. “Okay.”

We walk in silence until the next streetlight. “On second thought,” I start, “I think, in another life, you guys would survive the zombie apocalypse together.”

“Zombie apocalypse,” Jean echoes. “Why do I feel like I’d die first?”

“You almost do. But Connie sacrifices himself for you.”

He hmms . “Then you’d be part of the secondary group of survivors that ends up betraying the main force.”

“That’s weirdly specific. So I end up betraying you?”

“It’s okay because we join forces in the end.” He shrugs. “Either that or I charm you to our side.”

I grin. “You do, do you.”

== little person

The walk to the park is a short one, and before long the entrance is visible down the void road. A cold drop lands on my hand.

“Huh, we’re almost there.” Jean shifts the bags of chips in hand — the pocky is in his pocket. “Then—” his eye twitches strangely— “ah! Did a bird just shit in my eye?”

“What?” I sputter as another drop lands on my cheek. “There’s no birds. I think it’s raining.”

Blinking hard, Jean utters, “rain?”

We look up at the same time. The sky is no longer cloudless, and the familiar pitter-patter emanates from the roofs around us. We look back at each other.

Well, shit.

“It’s not that bad,” I start. Jean opens his mouth to reply but something suddenly falls on my head.

Rather, a downpour of rain, like water from a bucket, pushes me down. It’s loud! Loud like firecrackers.

“Holy shit!” Jean squawks, barely heard above the sound of rain. “No! My slurpee!”

The coke and cherries is on the ground now, cratering with every heavy raindrop that lands in it. I snatch his now-free hand.

“Forget it! We have to go!”

His face is devastated, but he nods. No recovery. I jut my head in the direction of the park; he nods again, and we make a break for it.

Being the taller one, Jean could easily outpace me, but we run side by side, feet sloshing first in the asphalt then in the grass as we finally make it to the park. “There!” he cries, pointing at the nearest tree that looks like it could provide some decent cover. I run until I feel my legs are going to give out and we crash under the leafy cover like it’s the finish line to a marathon, not letting go of each other even when our clasped hands crack into the tree’s trunk and we smack into each other on the other side with the full force of our momentum.

“Hooo!” Jean huffs. There’s no light in the park but I still can’t miss the wild look in his eyes, the way his hair drips and sticks to his forehead, just long enough to brush his upturned eyebrows. “You alright?”

“Yeah!” I cheer, feeling a laugh bubbling out. There’s no houses here, and probably no people. Who cares anyway? The sudden escapade snapped me into a different state. “Yeah, I’m good! Are you okay?”

“I’m soaked!” His huffs turn into a laugh and he waves vaguely at the sky. “So much for a picnic, huh?”

I blink a few times, then open my eyes wide. There’s no lights installed at the park, at least none that are on at this hour, but even in the pitch dark I know where the main areas are. “Why don’t we go to the pavilion?” I yell, turning back to face him.

“Mmp!” Jean pulls his head back, but not quick enough. “As you wish, darling,” he garbles quickly, wiping the corner of his mouth.

My jaw drops and I hold up my cup. The juice is now half of its original volume. “You little—” Without thinking, I swing the bag of marshmallows at his head but he blocks it easily with his arm.

“I couldn’t help it!” he bursts, dribbling a small amount onto the mulch floor with a splat .

The words die in my throat as we stare at the regurgitation. A moment later Jean takes off and I swear I see the raindrops fly off.

“Jean!” What choice do I have? I pursue.

The thief never strays more than a few feet ahead, allowing me a few more rain-laced swings before a picnic bench suddenly appears in front of us. At the last minute Jean manages to slam his feet onto the bench part and leap onto the table, but I don’t lift my knees high enough and the wood dings my shins and before the pain has time to register the soaked, half-rotten tabletop screams toward me

and when it’s supposed to hurt, it doesn’t.

Vision isn’t required to know that my face is squished up against Jean’s palms which cushion me from the wood. His wet hands peel off and travel to my shoulders. “Shit! Are you okay?”

Now my legs hurt. I blink at his blurry face and put my hands over his. The stuff I was carrying is on the ground now; I’m kneeling on the bench. “You saved me.”

“Of course.”

“Even though I hit you with marshmallows.”

“Darling.” He takes my hands in his, clasping them between our bodies. We’re soaked thoroughly now; the sweater I have stupidly unzipped weighs down heavily on my shoulders and rainwater constantly runs into my eyes and the valley of my lips, while Jean’s bangs are plastered to his forehead, eyelashes clumped together, and rain drips from the end of his nose onto our hands. “I would save you if it killed me.”

Then save me now.

Tell me you won’t accept that program at Stohess. Tell me we can go away somewhere far, far enough to avoid going to a school I don’t want for a degree I don’t want for a future I don’t want.

At the very least, tell me I can find the strength to break away from it all and make something decent out of this life that I’ve forcefully been granted.

How do you do it? How do you forge your own path, create a light that’s so blinding it renders me a moth? How do you find the courage?

I bring the bundle of our hands close to my face, let my breath run down the slick side of the back of Jean’s palm. “I would do the same for you.” And gently, as if handling the most precious jewel, I press my lips against the ridge of his knuckles and whisper, “ mon chéri. ”

Rain continues to fall in that familiar, comforting hum as it patters softly onto the grass and soil and leaves and wood. Jean stays silent for so long and if not for the look in his eyes I would think he didn’t hear me at all. But his lips crack open, and it takes a few tries for him to say what he wants.

“I… I wish…” His Adam’s apple bobs and rests precariously on his throat, holding the power of the things left unsaid. “I wish you’d finally admit that you’re a bigger flirt than I am.”

Out of reflex I scoff and release myself from his grasp to pull some hair off my face, covering the blow of his sudden change of heart that makes my insides feel as if they’d been scraped on hot concrete and poured back in. “You’re insane, Kirschtein.” No, it’s stupid and selfish of me to expect him to say something.

Shrugging plainly, he rubs his palms against his knees as if to dry them (ha ha), but gets up a moment later to pick some things off the grass. He returns a moment later with the pocky and gummies and drops them on the table before dropping down himself. The pocky box is soggy. “Let’s have our picnic right here.”

I shoot him a skeptical look which I hope he sees. “In the rain?”

“I know it’s your favourite weather.” His voice is soft and he speaks as if he had committed a grave sin.

“What if you get sick?” Now I remember to zip up my sweater.

His eyes follow the movement. “I can take care of myself.”

Fat chance of that, boy. “What if I get sick?”

“I’ll take care of you.”

I take a seat beside him on the table, feet on the bench. “And if we both get sick?”

He smiles a little. “Then I can hold you without worrying about transferring anything.”

“And you’re not a flirt.”

“What—” he opens the pack of gummies with a plastic crackle— “ever,” and sets the package between our bodies.

These are Jean’s favourite snacks. I’m sure he’s gotten sick by eating too many of these before, but he was convinced it was something else he ate. Idly, he pops one in his mouth, and I follow suit. They do taste good, though.

“Wonder if anyone’s ever been here this late,” Jean mumbles as I open the pocky.

“I’m sure they have. And I’m sure they will be.” I draw a length of the strawberry-coated stick like a sword and crunch. “None of them are idiotic enough to have a picnic when it’s raining, though, so we’re probably a first for that.”

He chuckles. “Pioneers, I’m sure.”

We eat in silence. The rain slows down, but doesn’t let up.

What am I doing here? What’s even the point of this? It’s only going to hurt me more, spending time with a ghost like this.

“Jean.”

“Hm?”

“Do you know the pocky game?”

“Hmm?”

“You know.” I stick one of the candies in my mouth and point to the other end.

Jean only looks more confused, and, resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I pry open his lips with two fingers and probe him with the pink tip. A strange and perhaps exaggerated noise gargles out of him — the candy slips from my grasp and falls.

“What the heck!” He bristles like a cat, even in the rain. “Stop laughing!”

“You’re— you’re supposed to bite it,” I choke. “Why do you look so scared?”

“I was just surprised .” He shimmies another stick out. “Let’s do it again. It’s just like Lady and the Tramp, right? Come on, let’s do it. Stop that!”

My attempt to stifle the giggles is piss-poor and Jean knows it. But I stop when I feel him grasp my chin and turn my head toward him.

“So,” he says slowly around the pocky in his mouth, “are we gonna do this?”

Smiling, I bite the other end, and then we’re connected. The stick vibrates as Jean starts to nibble, and when I follow suit he puts his hand down. We inch closer—

Crunch!

Our eyes widen.

Wordlessly, Jean lets go of his end of the stick, finds the source of the disturbance, and holds it up sheepishly.

The entire bag of pocky, compressed to dust under his palm.

“Whoops.”

I stare.

“I’m sorry.”

I push the remainder of our pocky in my mouth and chew.

“Fuck, I’ll— we can go back to the store and get another box. Hey. Don’t turn away…”

Wow, that tree over there sure looks interesting.

“Forgive me?”

I turn back. He looks absolutely crushed. (As he should.)

“I know they’re your favourite.” His head hangs. “I’ll…” Without warning, he grabs the bag of gummies and dumps the sweets on the ground. They tumble and disappear from view.

What!

“There. Now we’re even.” He looks up and smiles, shaking the plastic.

“What— Jean— what’d you do that for?”

“I wanted us to be in the same boat. It’s my fault for destroying the pocky anyway… and both of our slurpees… and I stepped on the chips when I jumped on the bench so I ruined that too. Plus I nearly got you killed.” He shrugs. “Retribution.”

My chest shrivels in on itself. “I didn’t care that much. Those were your favourite.”

“And the pocky was yours. Besides, we still have marshmallows.”

Pointing, I say, “I dropped them back there.”

“Oh.”

‘Oh’ indeed. I put my hands flat on the table behind me — despite how grimy — and lean back.

“We’re never gonna finish all these, y’know. ” Guess he was right.

One sigh turns into another, and soon I’m giggling like a schoolgirl. The rain falls all over my face, my neck, and runs down my shirt, like tiny tickling fingers. This is ridiculous. Here are two stupid dumb teenagers, at three in the morning in the rain, sitting on a bench surrounded by crushed wrappers and gummies and pocky crumbs. How does one even end up in this situation? They must be so young and in love. They must have no worries at all. Just two stupid dumb teenagers and nothing more.

Humans can only know each other so much. Words can only do so much. Actions, too.

Maybe, somewhere far away, far into the future or perhaps the past, someone will truly understand the sort of predicament I’m in.

But it’s a little selfish of me to be comforted by that thought when I don’t even try to make others understand.

“What’s so funny?”

I let my eyes roll shut. It’s a mistake to spend money on me, Jean. Just run away now before I absorb you like an amoeba. “Nothing. Nothing is funny.” Well, I don’t have to worry about that, since we’re leaving each other anyway!

It doesn’t matter. What makes you think you can sustain a healthy relationship when you obviously have your own issues? What makes you think you deserve him? You suck away at his happiness like a vampire. You make it so hard for people to be happy. You’re horrid.

The rain becomes vulgar and suddenly I hate the way it touches every inch of me.

“Hey.” Jean’s voice is soft, tentative. “Are you okay?”

The wood turns to slime under my palms. “Yeah. I’m just tired.” Maybe we should head home soon, I almost add, but I can’t. “Hey, Jean.” To my dismay, I open my eyes, and the world blinks back at me. Like it’s pissed at me for ever imagining it could disappear. But when I look at him it makes everything a little bit better.

== cry

Piece of shit.

A deep booming emanates from the ground like a great burrowing beast about to snap out but it’s just distant thunder.

“Yeah?” He’s in the same position I’m in, leaned back, eyes shut to the elements. Hair still glued to his forehead but slowly pushing back. Trembling ever so slightly with the shivers. Idiot boy.

Ever so slowly as to not disturb him or the picnic table, I stand, put my foot down on the other side of him, and come back down, weight fully balanced on his hip, effectively straddling him. He flinches at initial contact but otherwise doesn’t move as I wrap my arms around his chest

and cling to him

like a parasite.

Please just hold me.

Another wave of trembles strikes Jean as he lowers himself so he lies flat against the wood and I lay flat on him. His arms wrap around me a moment later.

I don’t want to think. Jean pulls me a little tighter against that waterlogged hoodie but I don’t mind. My balled hands are getting crushed under our weight and they’re probably hell on his back so I flatten them as much as possible and grasp him. Just us.

Just us, just us, just us…

Jean speaks first, breaking the vow of silence. “You know—” his voice cracks— “we only have three weeks left.”

That’s it. That’s all it takes for the pit in my stomach to open up so quickly I’m surprised Jean doesn’t get stabbed with it. For the dread to boil over and suddenly take control of my entire body, render me prone, double my mass. “Don’t.” That word was too weak even for me.

“I’m really… I’m really going to miss you.” The arms tighten and force some air out of me but this time the contact does nothing to help smooth me out.

Stop talking.

He keeps going. “I can’t ignore it for much longer.”

“Stop.”

“I try to and I can’t. I’m…” Jean’s chest jerks beneath me as his breaths turn shuddering. The floodgates. “I’m just scared.”’

My throat hurts so much it’s like it’s going to collapse in on itself and my eyes burn and it’s hard to breathe—

“You’ve been the best thing to ever happen to me. And now I have to leave you.”

“Stop,” I rasp, but apparently not loud enough.

“When we— when we part ways—”

“Don’t.”

“—I hope you find someone who’s better. Someone who doesn’t get emotional over dumb shit, someone who can treat you right, someone with an actual future—”

I smack his chest with it. My hand. Not hard at all. But enough to get him to stop .

“Jean…” I rise back into a somewhat sitting position. His chin is wrinkled and he’s biting his lip so hard and we lock eyes for a shattering second before he turns his head. Red eyes in a sea of sadness.

What… do I say now?

“You do have a future.”

He scoffs and the smirk is like razors to the eye. “Because I’m going to make it so far with an art degree.”

“Jean, you’re doing what you want to do. Who cares if you don’t end up getting a ‘traditional’ job? You’re gonna be happy with your life.” Which is a lot more than I can say for myself.

Jean brings his gaze down to look at the table. “Yeah, you’re right.” His hands slide from my back to the outsides of my thighs. “It’s going to be different without you, though.”

Deep breath doesn’t do anything. “It’s going to be different without you, too.”

He gives my legs a chaste squeeze, perhaps of comfort. Breathily, he asks, “what now?”

“We enjoy the time left together.”

“And after?”

“We don’t think about after.”

“We have to think about after.”

“Jean…”

He thinks for a few seconds. “We could try long distance.”

“Jean.”

“I mean, sometimes it works, sometimes. As long as we keep communicating, it should be fine. Right? Yeah. Yeah…” Somewhere, a lone mourning dove calls, its familiar swooping cry piercing the dark. “Say something.”

“I don’t…” know. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“What if it does?” He shifts up on his elbows. “What is there to lose?”

The idea comes immediately to mind but it’s harder to put into words. Late-night research on advice boards and internet forums only proved that everything that can go bad does go bad, and imagining Jean or even me in any of those scenarios renders me feeble. It could work, but it could also fail spectacularly. I don’t want to lose him in one of those ways.

But, at the same time, I’d rather not lose him at all.

Jean waits, expectation heavy in his upturned eyes. Who am I kidding. Of course I’d take that risk. “Yeah. You’re right.” I bite the inside of my lip and worry it between my teeth. “It could work.” Because that’s what everyone says before it all goes south.

Worst case scenario, he walks off with another person to love. At least he’ll be happy. He’ll have a real person to look at. Maybe someone less miserable and self-pitying and broody. Someone better-looking, for sure. Someone who he can rely on, instead of a brick wall who can’t express its feelings. Yeah, that would be nice. They’d meet in college through a shared passion for art and make it through the hardships of life together in a crappy little one-bedroom studio apartment that’s lit by yellowed fluorescents overlooking some shady alleyway that he’s definitely saved them from. Walls covered in portraits of each other, blurry polaroids, their favourite albums, photos of graffitied underpasses and empty parking lots that would be so meaningless to anyone else. Windows open in the summer to let in the breeze because on extra humid days it smells like wood. Windows open in the winter because the colder the air, the more burning hot their skin feels against the other as their limbs tangle under the warm pile of blankets on the couch as they watch their show together, even though they’ve seen it enough times to quote every line. Communicating, at every opportunity, how much they mean to each other and their concerns and their plans, quick chats as they pass each other on the way to class, hours-long nighttime discussions that never seem to end. Words strung together so intricately that neither of them gets up out of bed the morning the same as they were last night.

“What are you thinking about?”

I’m still staring into his eyes. “Just— the future.”

His jaw starts grinding again. “You really hate talking about yourself, don’t you?”

“It’s not—” I start to say before Jean suddenly sits up at a right angle, bracing a hand behind my back so I don’t fall backwards. His eyes fixed on me the whole time.

“It’s not what?” There’s a furrow in his brow. “Not important?”

Suddenly, I realize my hands are on his chest.

“Listen, I know you have… trouble with speaking up sometimes, and the last thing I want to do is force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But—” his hands tighten around my thighs— “sometimes I can’t read your mind, and I can’t help you; all I know is that you’re struggling all by yourself and I’m sitting there useless. Listen—” his breath gives out, and he tries again: “listen. I’m not— I want to help you. Especially now. So if you have anything to say, please, please say it.”

At some point the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

Do something. Say something meaningful. For once in your life, please, just open your stupid fucking mouth and say something.

I’m scared too I’m really scared of the future and I want us to run away together and live in the weeds and the one-bedroom apartments I want to stand outside with you in the alleyway I want to have a picnic with you in the underpass I want you to steal my slurpee I want to make you laugh I want to make you happy I want to give you this teddy bear let’s take pictures of each other I’ll teach you how to make a flower braid I want to forget the whole world and all the human animals it can be just us I’ll come out of my dark corner and drag you back in we can be together and never come out just be with me and I’ll be happy wherever

“I’m not really thinking of much.”

“Why don’t you look me in the eye and say that?”

Layers of cells and pigment. Jean’s eyes and my own. My lips part but it’s as if my throat’s turned into a deep, dry well. Something. Something… “When— if —” I inhale— “if we don’t make it, find someone who can treat you right.”

He blinks. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”

“The times I spent with you have been the most precious parts of my life. So if you decide to spend your time with someone else, that’s fine. You’ve given me enough happiness to last a lifetime, you know?”

“What the hell are you spouting,” he grunts. “That’s never gonna fucking happen. Don’t you— are you listening? I’m never doing that.” Now his hands are on my arms. “Don’t you realize how much you mean to me?”

“I don’t think you know a whole lot about me.” Stohess University, his sweater says in big embroidered letters. “Sorry. Don’t worry about it.” Fuck, I sound edgy. Please don’t pursue the subject.

“No, I will worry about it. Hey, look at me.” He pulls my chin up. “I’m allowed to worry about you too, you know? Do you really think by not saying anything I’ll just go on about my day like it’s nothing? Fuck. I care about you. Why can’t you realize that?” Jean’s eyes glisten dangerously. “You— you do care about me, right?”

That’s it. I grind my teeth so hard they might shatter as the hole in my gut deepens. “Of course I do.” You don’t know how much you mean to me and the fact that I made you this upset makes me want to condense into a dark point and disappear forever. How could I be so stupid?

“Then let me care about you too.”

Treating him like a little kid without any emotions. Shunning him to the point he feels… uncared for. Discarded. My doing.

Are you ever going to tell him that you love him?

No you’re stupid you’re a hormonal teenager who’s emotional about growing up stop being such a baby and think about your future that’s what matters that’s all that will ever matter get a job that will make mommy and daddy proud

I don’t want to see you with that boy again

big kids don’t cry

“Darling?”

A rough warm thumb swipes the skin under my eye and takes away the hot tears that make everything so blurry. Piercing throat pain. “I can’t see you, Jean.”

“You’re crying.”

== everything

“No… I’m not.”

But even as I say it a warm drop runs down my cheek and not a moment later it’s wiped away and he plants a most delicate kiss in its place. There’s something wrong with my breath because I can’t seem to inhale smoothly.

“Just let it out, my love.”

“I can’t— I can’t see you.” The words come out half-mumbled and airy.

“Shhh.” He envelops me in his grasp, arms wrapped carefully around me, chest to chest, chin to shoulder, and I find myself clinging on like a parasite. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. I’m right here for you. Right here.”

“Jean—” I gulp. “I—”

“Shhh.” And his chest vibrates as he hums and rocks and I don’t think I’ve been held like this in a very long time.

His body so warm beneath me, his arms so secure. Nothing to hear and nothing to see.

I haven’t felt like this in a very long time.

Breath after jerky breath

is it finally my turn?

is it okay like this?

it’s okay, right?

it’s safe.

Jean doesn’t stop. When I twitch or gasp or burrow into him he doesn’t stop, he mutters and sways and holds me as I sob and dirty his shoulder and I don’t think he’ll ever let go. I don’t want him to.

At some point in the morning, when the park is alive with the sounds of birds, the convulsions stop, and so does Jean, pulling me off and scanning my face.

“Don’t.”

He ignores me, though, and wipes everything revolting off my face with his sleeve.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I got emotional.”

“I know.” Without an ounce of hesitation, he presses his lips against my forehead and holds it there. “Thank you.”

I take a deep breath and it somehow seems easier than before. “Three weeks.”

“Three weeks.” Jean returns to eye level.

“Do you ever get that feeling of missing something that isn’t gone yet?”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say that you miss me.”

“Do you miss me?”

He pushes some hair off my face. “With every fiber of my being.”

Slowly, I do the same — pulling his bangs so that they split on the left side of his face, sweeping them to the side. Jean shuts his eyes as I work and tilts his head forward but I don’t know if he’s conscious of it or not. Meticulously placing every damp lock. He doesn’t open his eyes again until I’m finished.

The time will pass, dates will tick by like seconds. And when it’s finally time, the inevitable will happen.

Goodbyes hurt the most when the story isn’t finished.

Maybe, in another life, it goes on for a little longer.

A story with just us.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

one fun fact is that i have never stepped foot into a 7-11 before. i just based it off circle k. makes me wonder why i chose 7-11 in the first place. (if you happen to be one of the four pocket hamsters in a single trench coat that read my zombie au fic, the reference here isn't a spoiler. or is it??? haha just kidding. maybe.) thanks for reading my dumpter fire! to be honest i was a little embarrassed posting it but whatever its ao3tumblr. i hope every single one of you experiences a clear night sky and/or strawberry pocky in the forseeable future. take care :) secret tumblr-excluive a/n: am i doing it right? does my post like nice and pretty? did i spend an hour formatting the cover? no i didn't!!

#jean kirsctein fanfiction #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #pushable #pushs oneshots

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yveltalreal · 1 month

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hey youve talked about cyclizar racing a bit? how does it work?

okay so! theres like two major types!!!!!!!!!

the first types are speed races! all the races you see on tv or that are set up on legal courses and race centres and just that are held in general are of this type! a speed race tends to be a straight dash for the finish. quick sprints, or like a couple laps on a basic circuit. sometimes there are a few simple obstacles like some twisting turns or a few small jumps or a little bit of slippery terrain or a small wall to climb. nothing too intensive and even then obstacles are still kinda rare to see outside of higher level racing. this is the worst type of race because its boring and it sucks this is the only legal type (thankfully this will change hopefully)

the other type are technical races (sometimes called danger races or skill races depends on the group) these are the most popular type for illegal races. theyre characterized by unconventional courses that take paths through places like city streets, caves, and forests, weaving through a variety of natural and man made obstacles, many of which are dangerous and require a degree of skill and practice to go through safely. while speed race courses are rarely open during storms, many technical races are planned around harsh weather, with staying low and using as little metal gear as possible while avoiding getting swept away by pouring rain being part of the challenge. because of this, most illegal racers have a fast flying pokemon known as a scout pokemon that keeps an eye on the track. speaking of which, technical race tracks arent always as well defined as speed race tracks. shorter races will have a whole planned route, while larger ones may span entire neighbourhoods or more and instead just have a set of checkpoints that must be reached in a specific order before getting to the end. there are a few other variants of technical races i can talk about but overall theyre just a more fun and dangerous race type and im surprised but excited that the cyclizar racing federation has decided to potentially make official rules for them and open official tracks. obstacle based racing is super fun compared to just. trying to reach the end quickly and requires you to move your body with ur cyclie so much more and its sosososo fun.

also i guess i should talk about racing gear. speed races will always use racing gear. its standard cyclizar handlebars and seats just setup more for racing and being a bit more aerodynamic. technical racing on the other hand has no rules. race with whatever you got. most racers will use complete custom gear, modified rapidash tack (so a bridle, reins, saddle, maybe a blanket. i use this) or just standard racing gear. you technically also ride bareback for technical races since theres not as much rules but bareback cyclie riding has always been for more lax rides and you will fall off lol.

registering for speed races requires extensive history of your cyclizar. it must be a pure cyclizar so no hybrids. dna testing resules are required if they dont say its a pure cyclizar then it wont get in (so a cyclizar/rapidash hybrid wouldnt be allowed to race. if one somehow caught one of those crater fuckers it wouldnt be allowed either). lower level races and casual shit do occasionally allow hybrids IF AND ONLY IF it is proven that the hybridization gives no real benefit in a race. i think school races might also allow hybrids under the same rules?? idk. anyways. mid level and high level races require it to be a pure cyclizar (sometimes with racing breed pedigree) and often ban wild caught cyclizar from competition. after that theres also the standard health checkups one would have just for a riding license that make sure its a healthy size and has enough strength to be ridden, as well as the actual riding license that says you can ride the cyclizar around like. in public and stuff.

tecynical racing requires none of that just have a cyclizar and i guess make sure its healthy. you dont ened a riding license but you should have one so ur less likely to get arrested and also cause just. that confirmation that you and your cyclizar are able to ride.

also to clarify by technical racing illegality its like. there are harsh cyclizar riding trails that are just as dangeorus as technical racing but theyre legal cause ur supposed to go one at a time. if multiple people are racing at once it gets a lot more dangerous cause both people and pokemon can get seriously hurt. its not anything serious of a charge its more a misdemeanour you're probably just gonna get written up and end up with a fine unless youre a repeat offender

#maple moment #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #rotomblr #bites

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asinbunn · 1 year

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Hii I love your whole shrine aesthetic and can I pray for Scara and Xingqui with a drunk flirty s/o :D

𝐃𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭

Prep Note : I added Albedo because I got mixed up mid way as this request is a year ago, and I'm very fucking sorry 👯 I tried analyzing their mannerisms in speech through voicelines, the way they deliver their speech esp with Wanderer still having Scaramouch traits, the harshness has toned down to a (civil enough ig) certain level.

Everyone except Xingqiu has a short imagine because,,my brain short circuited = short texts

Characters : Xingqiu x Reader || Albedo x Reader || Wanderer/Scaramouche x Reader

Genre : Fluff // Crack // Lovey Dovey shæt // TEXT + IMAGINES/SCENARIOS

Warnings : Mentions of alcohol // Cringe pickup lines 🤡 // You will have a stroke deciphering the texts // Could still be OOC // Mentions of Ningguang, Beidou + Kaeya + Aether // Established relationships // Scara's became kinda deep ngl

Xingqiu

Not every msg is translated ! "HEYY BANGSIES, I MISS YOU 😔 HELLO" — "Are you busy" — "Whaat awesome 🥰🥰 I'm actually with Beidou and Ningguang" — "THEY'RE SO LOVELY 😭😭😭" — "UHM YEAH SHE CAN HOLD ALCOHOL REALLY REALLY WELL" — "you know what let's go to the library tmr together" — "don't worry, don't worry it's OK bbg" — "WDYM OH"

Albedo

Again not everything is translated ! "Yeaah baedo HEYY" — "anything for you my sweet baedo" — "hehe you know what, I think even without gravity on Teyvat"

As you lower down your phone, you could see Albedo coming into the tavern, your whole face lights up even more and Kaeya notices that, chuckling at you. Your expression melts in infatuation as the pale blonde approaches your table.

"Let's go home now darling, it's getting quite late" He reached out to hold your hand with a welcoming smile. You stood up fast, wobbly then waving the tall exhausted male a goodbye for the night whilst clinging onto your beloved Alchemist for standing support. You two start exiting the tavern after paying the bill, walking slowly toward your designated home.

At first, the air was creaking in the silent night, difficult to see the sight of stars but the positively pleasant glow of the moonlight just takes your breath away, you inhale the fresh air of Mondstadt lightly before interrupting the peaceful silence between you and your lover,

"uhgh..i'm burning, it's getting so much hotter, could be because of the hottie by my side ahheug.." Albedo smiles fondly, continuing to listen to you ramble nonsense before carrying on the conversation himself,

"You know dear, it actually takes a lot of heat to burn things" you don't pay much attention to what's he saying though still registering the words emitting from his soft voice, Albedo continues with a hum,

"I guess it doesn't take much for me to bring the heat to your cheeks"

As he finishes the sentence the alchemist let's out a raspy chuckle after seeing your eyes widen and ears start glowing red. You can't tell whether it's the alcohol that's causing your temperature to rise or the fact that Albedo is getting bolder by the minute. Mostly likely both, which proves his statement.

Despite having sobered up just slightly, you still stumbled up the stairs before you could take impact upon the concrete, reacting quickly, Albedo firmly caught your arms, and suddenly an idea came into his tinkering mind.

"My dear, could you stand still for a moment?"

You do as he says, patiently waiting for him as he takes off his long white hooded coat. He asks you to wrap it around your lower waist, using his coat to act as a towel. You follow his instructions without paying any mind to it or giving a second thought.

Although before you could thank him for catching you, he swiftly sweeps you off your feet resulting in you letting out a low startled gasp all while in the motion of being carried by your beloved pale-blondie in bridal style. To ensure your safety and comfort, he'll let you adjust to the position as well as the coat wrapped around your legs first before carrying on to returning home.

"Ah~ Albedoo you're so gentle and sweet to me" you softly state while giggling a little whilst laying your head by his firm shoulder and neck with your eyes resting closed. Albedo tilts his gaze towards your blissed expression and smiles tenderly as he brings you two back to your shared home.

Scaramouche/Wanderer

reader is more stable but unhinged texter here

You quickly stand up upon reading the last text he sent, letting out a little screech mid way through Aether’s sentence, startling him and resulting in him asking what’s wrong.

“My beloved is heree!” you excitedly exclaim while darting your attention to the front doors of the restaurant, the serene blue dressed male standing by idly waiting for you. You briskly walked over.

Your pace speeds up recklessly, you spread your arms as you reach closer to your beloved puppet boy, closing your eyes to brace yourself for the impact. Crashing into Scaramouche’s figure, he wraps his arms around your waist whilst yours slides up from his biceps to his thin porcelain neck. You suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, joyful to see him after spending many hours with your new friend, the renowned Traveller.

“Well, hey there you silly thing, had enough fun for tonight yet?” he asks as the corners of his lips perks into a smirk, eyebrow raised high. You snickered out a ramble of "Yes" in repetition, in which Scara's wide smirk melts into a fond little smile, just for his love.

As Aether approaches, you motion a wave for him to come closer, "Say hi guys, you two have met more than once! No need to be so awkward at this point.." You proudly state as if you didn't know their past predicament already.

Aether lets out a quiet "Hey" though still remaining eye contact with your loverboy, while Scaramouche only nods in acknowledgement. It's now 10:36pm, you start to doze off a little, resting your eyes all while leaning on your boyfriend's figure for support and muttering, mumbling incoherent jumbles of words into Scara's ear. Of course, they both take notice to your sleepy drunk state and Scaramouche decides to end it off for today,

"Thanks for entertaining them today Traveller, I'll be taking them back home, have a goodnight then." As he says those last few words, he gently shakes you, re-awaking your drifting mind. Making sure you're conscious, his gaze is only in your droopy eyes, he then whispers with one hand on your cheek, "We're going home now okay sleepyhead?" To that you give a nod of approval, rubbing the sleep off your eyes for a little while. You turn your head and attention towards Aether wishing him goodnight and bid him a goodbye as you and your beloved begin walking out.

Just a moment after walking out the doors you come to a stop, in which Scaramouche caught sight of in an instant. "What's wrong? Why did you stop?" he questioned in slight concern for you. You stare into his lovely indigo eyes, in your own little world, you blurted out in reply,

"Can you carry me on your back please" well that seemed very sudden to him but not all that surprising as it's getting late and it isn't easy staying conscious whilst being drunk. He blinks at your pretty little sleep-desiring eyes,

“...Seriously? you're just going to ask me that, out of the blue?” He could only sigh at your needs, although it’s not like he could ever say no to you in moments like these anyways. “I suppose I can make an exception for you, get on.” He lowers his body in a stance for you to hop on his back. You beamed brightly at his quick cooperation and advanced toward his lowered figure, hugging his hunched back and wrapping your arms from the top of his shoulders, down to his hardened chest. Once you're both comfortable and ready to get moving again, he lifts himself and your figure up straight with ease.

Scaramouche ponders for a moment as he starts walking, “So what were you guys talking about if you hung out for half the day?” You let out a muffled hiccup, then gave a peck on the side of his neck before raising your head from nuzzling his neck. “Aether and I were just trying to get to know each other a little better, they asked a bunch of questions like what I was interested in” You replied, words slurring, you took a second to process your sleepy state before continuing, “I- *hic* I said..I was interested in Scara obviouslyy~” you let out a hushed laugh and stirred. You try to shift yourself forward to sneak a peek at Scara’s face, wondering how he’s gonna react. His ears are dusted in red whilst his cheeks burn up within the cool breezy night.

"Do you always spout your feelings around whilst you’re drunk?” He says that as if he hates it but you both know that’s just the way he is, can’t forwardly accept and admit these things until sooner or later. You inhale sharply, “I am drunk but.. *hic* I love you” even if you are drunk, you don’t believe that your feelings would ever go astray like the way your mind does.

“I’ve heard many say that some humans are the most honest with such heartfelt emotions in times like these. I love you too but I am sober.” He smiles at you with absolute devoted affection, at the very moment you’re still not completely sober however you don’t miss the slight rising blush as he brings himself to say those tender words with nothing but utter sincerity. He’s been hurt, put into a shell of despair for many decades only until he learnt the truth of his world, was when he had the ability to free himself of such sorrows and self-pity. Trust is something he felt he would never be able to give out again, and so for you to present your vulnerability so freely to him makes him think twice. Perhaps he’ll take in all your love even if he will experience the pain from all those years ago once again, he would do so, to gain happiness in the moment with you without wanting to think of the possible consequences it may bring. He’ll endure it no matter what, because you are the best thing that has ever happened to him in a long time. Suddenly his deprecating thoughts are brushed away the instant you speak up again,

“Your smile is the prettiest type of smile I have ever seen..” it’s bewildering, just how much he wants to believe in everything you say. Even if it’s complete nonsense, he really is infatuated with you..

“This smile only exists when I’m with you.”

End Note : I'm living in constant fear of tumblr's word limit, I got carried away with Scaramouche's passage but it took me days to write it all out along with procrastination. I was also using a chat bot to gain ideas from Scara's slight identity shift and some replies were so 😰 MOST WERE HELPFUL THOUGH SO IT'S OKAY - asinbunn

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