#AND NOW HAPPY FLAPPY HANDS

[arecaceae175]

SO CUTE!!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!!

SKY! And April 2023

This turned out SO CUTE. I added wild because he needed a friend

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Watched my dad do the locoroco cameo level in astrobot and apparently the “extreme flappy hands” came out 🥲

[quietwingsinthesky]

happy stimming comic made me happy stim

[iridescentis]

going fucking insane about dan rn send help im gonna screech

already cried once today because he's so fucking inspiring and has legitimately helped my outlook on life and i CANNOT handle it

[joyfuladorable]

barges in here because art stuff

if i were to describe your style, i’d start with your sketches because omg they’re so clean while also maintaining that sketchy-liveliness that comes with rough work?? i love the expressiveness, i admire how you can do SO MANY while keeping the same love to all of them, and i wanna hug all the things you draw. they’re so cozy ;-;

i’m confident that between how you do lines and how you structure expressions that i’d see your art in a crowd and be like THATS SEA.

Describe my art style

*VIBRATING IN PLACE AND OPENLY WEEPING* HANNAHHHHH OMGGGGGGG!!!!

I am MELTING at your kind generous words!!! My SkEtches?!??? Clean??? LIVELY?!?!!! *voice cracking* COZYYY?!!!!!!?!! JxjhsjahzgahjHdhhjd!!!!!!! I’m soooooo UWAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!! ///qAq///

I’m forever eternally happy that folks like the expressions I drawwww!!! The amount of times I’ve scrunched up my face as I push and redo expressions until they feel Right… thank you Thank Youuuuuu 💕💕💕💕💕

[thornheartfelt]

Me seeing Na.da and blushing and screeching a little and squeaking and squealing and giggling

[foxgloveinspace]

I had a dream right before I woke up that was along the lines of someone leaving a rude comment on one of my posts and I woke up so ready to tear them a new one, and it’s not there!! There is no comment!! And now I have so much aggression for no reason and nothing to take it out on lmao.

[majorproblems77]

dlksfadalkgnrajbgrje me?!

OH MY GOSH IM SO EXCITED THANK YOU! :D

I'm honoured, genuinely. Words can't express how happy I am about this. Thank you so much!

(For those interested, I am going to be continuing it after Whumptober is finished, Realm's adventure is not finished yet!)

Thank you all for taking part in my themed contest!

I really loved your entries and I hope you enjoyed participating in this contest!

Below I tag all the participants:

@yourlocaltreesimp , @dadaromance-azi , @plateapus , @xxbuttercup , @16mistypaw , @ashbandit13 , @majorproblems77 , @theyasart , @candy-floss-consumer , @sleepyy-27

Thanks to everyone for participating, winners in the video above!

See you at the next contest! 💖

[ghostiboos]

Bro the highs and lows of game dev are insane — two days ago I was immobile in fetal position (horizontal) staring through the wall for like 2 hours straight because something went so wrong I thought we could never come back from it. And now I am vibrating! in my desk chair! because actually it’s going so great this is gonna be so fucking cool aaa and the whiplash I’m telling you-

[thenarryparable]

Im so happy :D

[whumpasaurus101]

*inhale*

AAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AKIAAAAAAA ILY I LOVE YHIS I LOVE YOUR ART AAAAAGHHHHHHHH

alright that’s enough of that. you’re destroying my door jams.

@whumpasaurus101

[allywthsr]

WRAPPING HIS PRESENTS | (l.norris)

summary: you wrap Lando’s presents

wordcount: 1.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: like two sexual things, but nothing graphic

notes: what are we thinking?

advent calendar

You sat on the floor in the living room, Lando was currently in the gym, training for the next two hours. It was time to wrap his presents, the rest of the presents, for the other people of your family, were already wrapped and stored away in a closet in the guest room. Now the only things that were missing, were his presents, in front of you laid multiple things you bought for Lando, grabbing the red wrapping paper with little Santa’s and reindeer on it. You took the scissors and cut off a piece of the paper, grabbing the first present, a new hoodie from his favorite brand. You saw him check it out online and you could not not buy it for him, he almost bought it himself, but you could convince him, that you shouldn’t buy yourself things right before Christmas, so he didn’t.

Closing the wrapping paper with a few strips of tape, you took a sticker where you could write his name on it, and wrote ‘Lan’ in your best handwriting, even adding a small bow you bought in a little corner shop.

The next present was a bit more cheesy, it was a keyring for his keychain, made out of glass with his favorite picture of you two put in there, you knew he loved small things like that. It was small, but it meant something to him, and that’s most important.

You grabbed a different wrapping paper, now you had a dark blue one in your hand, and it was covered with golden stars. You didn’t want to go too overboard with his presents, but you knew he would, so you tried to give him something back, even tho you knew you didn’t have to. He was happy if you would give him a kiss on Christmas morning, but you weren’t satisfied with that, you tried to go bigger every year.

The next present was a small silly thing you found on Amazon while checking out, it was a scratch-off movie poster. The two of you could never decide what movie to watch, sometimes the planned movie night ended after one hour because you couldn’t find something to watch, either one of you has seen a film and the other hasn’t, or the genre wasn’t the right one, sometimes you just didn’t find one that fits in the mood and sometimes you couldn’t decide on one, because there are so many movies, you’ve watched together and all the good films have been watched by you two a hundred times. With that scratch-off poster, that problem would be solved and evenings that would be filled with looking through the whole Netflix catalog, while the other was also searching through different movie platforms, would be at least be over for a hundred days. He could just scratch off the material and each movie night, you wouldn’t have this discussion that annoyed both of you.

You, again, cut out a piece of paper and wrapped it around the rolled-up poster, sticking the sticker on it, and writing his name on it.

The next present was a silly present you found in a store, it was a small retro arcade machine, and he loved arcade games. It was a miniature arcade machine that he could take with him wherever he went if he was bored before a race. He would definitely play with it. It had games like Super Mario or Flappy Bird on it, perfect for Lando’s interest, he loved these old games he used to play as a kid. You put the batteries in the slot and wrapped the dark blue wrapping paper around it, closing it off with a few stripes of tape, writing his name on the sticker, and placing a bow on top of it as well, you bought a few bows in a dollar store, that would stick to the present without having to make the bow.

You went all out for presents this year, but you bought most of them on Black Friday, so the hundred and fifty pounds hoodie only cost ninety pounds, what a steal.

The next gift was more a fun gift than an actual useful gift, it was an indoor putting green, the long stripe of fake grass had a slight bend towards the end, so it wasn’t just a straight line that he had to play. He always told you that he hated it, when it rained and he wasn’t able to go golfing, he wanted to buy himself a putting green for the inside for a while now, yet, he never did. Lando could practice his putting skills and his swings, he would love it, it would annoy you for a few weeks, he sure would only do that for some days, but that’s fine. You took another roll of wrapping paper and cut off a piece, wrapping the edges around the box, sealing it with some tape, and sticking the sticker with his name on it.

The main present was a self-made one, a jar filled with three-hundred sixty-five little notes. He can pick one note every day for the next year, on the notes were little compliments, funny sayings, dirty talking, and declarations of love.

You worked on this for multiple days, cutting out three-hundred sixty-five colorful papers, was a task, that took you three days alone. Writing all the notes on the paper took you like a week and a half, it might sound like a lot, but you had to think about three-hundred sixty-five notes and write them on a small piece of paper while Lando does not notice you doing it. And since the winter break started, he was mostly home, so you had to do it when he was training or playing Fortnite or something.

Some examples of the notes are

⁃ thank you for you

⁃ I love you

⁃ I‘m glad my boyfriend has a big cock

⁃ I hope you have a good day

⁃ Thank you for every orgasm

It might be cheesy, but Lando and you are that couple that leaves little sticky notes around the house to make the other happy, the present was basically like the sticky notes but without sticking it somewhere.

You closed the lid from the jar and cut off a big piece of wrapping paper, wrapping it around the glass and closing the paper with tape, and sticking his name on top with it, just like a big bow.

You looked at the presents in front of you, you couldn’t wait for him to open all of them, you were sure he would be happy about every single one.

[pedge-page]

I'm new to ur page idk if this is done but I...I want Joel to piss inside a plushie....

Puddles - a Plushies x PK drabble

Notes: I've been waiting to write this one so here we go! Can read more plushies!Joel through Plushies Series masterlist, though they can all be read as standalone fics

Warnings: Pisskink!Joel, piss kink, Drunk!Joel, solo masturbation with a stuffed animal, yes he is pissing inside poor plushie, plushie fucking briefly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He may have gone a little bit overboard when Tommy invited him for the crew’s so-called ‘happy hour get together’. He knew they all liked to go out and celebrate with a few drinks after completing a project, and this last one they just wrapped up for some posh client with outrageous requests was no different. 

Joel usually liked to skip out on them. First, because he didn’t want to know what these clowns might be up to when they get tipsy, letting whatever sober-less things go on follow his mind to the next job site. But also because he’s getting too old for that college level shit. Hangovers aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing well past middle age. 

But, he didn’t want to be home alone since you were going to be working late.

So, two beers turned into twelve and a few more various alcohol spiked beverages here and there, and boom. Joel’s swaying side to side along the sidewalk with Tommy guiding him all the way up the front door.

“You sure you don’t need me, brother?” Tommy asks hesitantly. 

Joel, with lolling eyes and a grin, confidently waves him off after successfully entering his key into the door after 6 tries.

He stumbles through into the dark alone, and the first thing that hit him is how badly he wants to curl up on your plushie filled bed. He thought about you all night; your shampoo filling his nose when you cuddle him, the smooth streak of your naked back when you finish a shower, the wet indulgence of your pussy when he eats you out.

He’s never going to admit it, but the man is clingy as shit when you’re around. And he’s craving some much needed plushie pussy time.

Shit, the alcohol is really swimming in his brain. 

And, he realizes, with a firm and shiver-some squeeze to his crotch, elsewhere in his body. 

Ironically, the bathroom is not what beckons him.

With a devious smirk, he instead tumbles into the bedroom. Through the moonlit drapes, a wave of beady eyed babies stare back at him.

“Hello freaks,” he chuckles. They probably miss you too. Honestly it’s really rude, if you think about it, the way you abandon your buddies here AND Joel all in one night? Atrocious behavior. Someone ought to teach you better.

“Daddy’s home."

He falls forward, his knees catching the edge of the bed. An array of colorful volunteers practically jumping up and down at his presence to be engulfed by the precious aroma of Joel Miller.

That’s how drunk-Joel is seeing it. In reality, if they could run for their fluffy lives, they would. 

A quick hand snatches one yellow blob by its neck. His eyes struggle to get a clear picture—whether from the alcoholic haze or the darkness obscuring his vision. Possibly both. The dark bill and flappy arms come into focus.

“Duck,” he muses to himself. “Bet ya name is Duckie, some shit like that. She ain't good with the namein.” He rolls the unfortunate one over to its back, inspecting its caliber. Its definitely older: matted fur smushed down in certain areas, lack of vibrant coloring, some faded and torn edged fabric on its bow tie. Bitty holes sewn up here and there with mismatched (and poorly seemed) threaded needle. Your college waitressing job used to be for a place called the Quavern, so this little guy’s gotta be your graduation farewell from that team.

“Well mister Quakers. You n' me gonna get to know each other real well right now. Got something I need ya to hold f’me,” Joel slurs. One hand frees the button of his jeans while the other begins to prod at a loose tear in poor DuckDuck’s underside. He pokes and prods and scissors a little too harshly with his sausage fingers before a tell-tale rip echoes in the room. “Oops,” he chuckles with very little guilt as he forces the hole a bit wider and palms his crotch a bit harder. 

Yeah, he gets hard when touching your stuffed animals. He can’t help it! With all the naughty activities you do with them, they’re practically hug buddies by day, sex toy by night. His mind feels foggy, but the building sensation along his lower stomach is the only thing churning his actions. With a few lazy pumps, Joel slots his mushroom tip at the cottony hole he’s made in the poor plush. He pushes through, groaning with his head tossed slightly back as dry softness envelops his pulsing length. 

“Shit—that’s it. Take it little guy.” He bites his lips and peers below, watching his dick penetrate the stuffed animal.

He knows he should put it down, sew it up, put it back, and go do his business in the bathroom like a good, well trained boyfriend. But then again, he knows how fucking pissed you’ll be if he defiles your plushies again. Then you’ll never leave him unattended at home, and that means more pussy drinking and rubbing on these fuckers for him.

Joel doesn’t even realize he’s pissing inside the poor animal until it starts to sag heavily with the weight and wetness coating his hand. “Ooohhhhhhhhhh,” he gasps with furrowed brows. As his bladder empties, the duck grows damper and darker, the fur and cotton soaking it up from the inside out until it’s dripping down his ballsack.  He thrusts inside a few times, the warm wet sensation making him choke out a curse. It’s not quite like your pussy, but the heat is better than nothing. He pushes it flush against his pubic bone, another rush of liquid hissing through and muffled by Mr Quack’s soft innards.

If he wasn’t so fucking wasted right now, he’d fuck it into oblivion. give it the good ol'Miller beating. Fertilize its eggs, if you will. But with his bathroom situation now relieved, Joel yanks the thing off and chucks it to the ground. His brain collapses just as he falls towards the bed, drowning in his own much needed slumber.

-

you shake your head and laugh, hands on your hips at the sight in front of you.

Joel’s out cold face forward in your bed. His jeans are loosely wrapped around his hips and his old tee still on, so if it wasn’t for his loud snoring, you’d assume the man was dead. He hadn’t even made it fully on the bed, his tip toes still holding him up on the floor and legs dangling at an angle.

A few of your stuffed animals had managed to crawl out from underneath him, scattered around when he most likely dropped onto the bed. You pick them up one by one: dusty Carly the Crow, the now famed Mr Oinkers (with battery pack turned OFF), Whiskers the Cat, and poor old Puddles the Duc—

Your disgusted screech has Joel sitting up so fast he nearly capsizes off the bed. The confused, hungover lump is met with his bewildered and screaming girlfriend who’s yanking him by the neck and wringing him viciously with as much might as you can muster.

“STOP—FUCKING—PISSING—IN—MY—PLUSHIES!” You roar with wild eyes and gritted teeth, choking him within an inch of his life. You shake his neck up and down like you’re going to hammer his head into the bed post. 

It takes him a moment, with wide eyes and hands wrapped around your wrists, before his gaze lands on the poorly discarded evidence of last night: a very overly yellow duck soaking into the floor boards in a puddle of liquid gold.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[adventuringblind]

Stimming

Oscar Jack Piastri x Autistic Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort (I think)

Request: let’s add to the list! Comment your swims that aren’t on here and I’ll add them!

Summary: Oscar and his reactions to certain stims

Warnings: mean people, Stims that are harmful

Notes: Okay, the majority of these are my personal Stims. but! That doesn't mean these are the only valid ones. Remember, it's a spectrum 🤟🏻

Masterlist

The rocking

This one is a major way of self-soothing

If he sees you doing it then I think he’d most likely use it as an indication that there is either a particularly strong emotion or that your overwhelmed

Definitely would just sit next to you

In silence or talking it doesn’t matter

He just want to be there with you

Flappy hands (hand shakes as I call them)

Probably thought you hurt your wrist

Also used as an indicator

Either it’s a way of saying no and it’s obvious that you want whatever is going on to stop

Or it’s the opposite and your extremely happy and excited and don’t know how else to express it

The latter reason is his favorite

He likes to see you smile and do flappy hands when your excited

He makes it a point to get you hyped for things

Nails in the skin

Doesn’t like this one

He doesn’t like seeing you hurt yourself in any way

He knows it’s your way of grounding

But he’ll try and get you to focus on something else

He keeps bandaids with him in case it gets really bad

Also, despite his nail habits, he’ll make sure yours are short so you can’t do as much damage to you skin

Hair tugging

Again, a harmful stim

He doesn’t enjoy seeing you do this either

Definitely a sign of being overwhelmed

He’ll run his fingers through your hair if you’ll let him

If not then he’ll find something else for your hands to do that distracts and calms your brain

The ear noise thing (idk what it’s called)

Saw you doing it once in a crowded area

Was confused at first until you showed him

He does it also now

It’s kind of fun for him

Everyone teases when you two are plugging and unplugging your ears in random locations.

The foot hopper

Can’t stand still

It’s a struggle

Anytime you go somewhere and can’t stand still you find yourself hopping between feet

Sometimes you make a pattern out of it

Or a rhythm

Or your own little game

Oscar is there to catch you if your balance is off

He will also join in on the game sometimes if you let him

He makes sure to stay close if you ever have to stand for long periods of time

T-Rex arms

He laughed

He couldn’t help because it was funny and adorable

He couldn’t help it

If you ever feel stuck in that position then he’ll be there to help

Whether is be food or the tv remote he never fails to make you comfortable

Will remind you to stretch your arms if you stay in that position

Would hate to see you get a cramp

The head to flat surface

Thought you were annoyed at first

Then you avidly explained that the table feels nice on your head

It became almost routine that you would send your forehead at a flat surface you hadn’t tried yet

Walls, floors, anything that looks smooth or cold or soft

He’d remind you not to do it to hard

Head wounds bleed particularly hard

Feel like he can feel it himself when you describe in great detail how it feels against your forehead and face

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (10/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“Betas, as we all know make up the main bulk of our world,” A circle is drawn around the ‘β’ sign, chalk flaking off as it taps against the blackboard. “But what about Omegas? Does anyone remember what the sign for it looks like?”

Silence. The lead of a pencil cracks when it’s unceremoniously dropped onto the floor, inciting the complaints of students that wanted to do anything but study.

“Amachi-sensei! Please don’t give us another surprise quiz…!” A student whose name escapes your mind sounds out, their hand raised into the air and a pout on their cheeks.

(You’re not really that close with any of your other classmates. Not even acquainted enough to remember their names…)

“Oh my, if you’re asking me like that I really don’t mind making one for all of you right now.” She huffs as she crosses her arms, shaking her head at the room full of her own students.

“Students must be prepared for anything, you know? A quick reminder doesn’t hurt!”

A collective groan and whines of complaints form a chorus of exasperated children.

“Always so excitable, aren’t you, kids?” Her tone is stale as her flats click against polished wooden floors, standing before the class as she adjusts her glasses. “But I’m reviewing this topic again for your sakes! This is your final year as an elementary student and now that you’re all 12,”

A clap of her hands together as she smiles, the apples of her cheeks blushed pink and the mole by her lip stretching out with her expression.

“It’s the year you present your secondary genders! I’m sure you’re all quite excited, are you not?”

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t quite catch any of that. Not one word managed to float into your attentive ears as Suguru flips through your textbook in your stead, inconspicuously making sure that it looked like you were at least following along.

You would be, if you weren’t so distracted.

“Today’s curse is cute too.” It really is. With flappy wings that looked too small for its body, a smooth, round and squishy body with wide, wide eyes that barely blinked—And the way it kept making little ‘chu!’ noises as it floated all around you. “It looks all blobby and chubby.”

(It’s a real wonder how it even flies. Maybe the laws of gravity don’t apply to cursed spirits.)

“You like it, right? I caught it just cause I thought you might.”

“Mhm. I like all the cute looking ones.”

Because Geto Suguru was one of those ‘cursed energy’ users, and Gojo Satoru had deemed him ‘capable’ enough, given what he had claimed to see through those pretty eyes of his that you’re too familiar with.

“Suguru’s different!” He’s huffing at you as he pokes at your cheek, jabbing the pads of his fingers into them as your head steams with all the information he had just dumped onto you in one fell swoop.

“He’s born with a technique and stuff. Real potential and everythin’.”

(Technique… The thing that people are born with and are supposedly meant to gain better control of as they grow older.)

“Bwut yuuu sfaid—“ He finally releases you. “Shoko doesn’t have a technique either…?” Or did you hear wrong? Was she able to officially learn this ‘Jujutsu’ because she did in fact have one? Or is she just special like Satoru because she’s rich too? Your head is really starting to feels like it was desperately trying to work cogs that haven’t been oiled in far too long.

It’s just not clicking.

“She’s different cause she’s like…” His eyes squint at you as your cheeks go back to being abused by hands that took too much interest in them. “Like a Band-Aid in Digimon.”

“But like a really, really weak Band-Aid and stuff. So she’s not a cure all like a Medicine. If ya go crazy in the head she can’t help.” You can see his grin grow all the more when he pulls at your cheeks and squishes them together.

“Hmph! Now she’s not as cool as ya thought, right?” He’s back to that proud smugness in his expression, eyes sparkly and so full of pride. “I still got the best one out of all of ‘em!”

(“So… She’s a like a Hyper Potion in Pokemon?” Just to put it in terms you understand better, anyway. Digimon’s tough.

“Hyper Potion’s too powerful. Treat ‘er like one of those super useless small purple ones that barely heal anything.”

“Those are supposed to only be good early game, though.”)

“Remember to ask your parents to sign your acknowledgment form for the checkup! Did everyone receive a copy?”

“Yes, Amachi-sensei!”

“Then class is dismissed— Don’t forget!”

It looks like Satoru wasn’t coming today either, it seems. Not even when third period rolled about and you were huddled up next to Shoko’s side as her head leans against your shoulder under the shade of the tree in the school courtyard, chatter in your ears and a yawn escaping your mouth.

(You think he must be really busy with his particular rich people stuff. You hope he’s at least eating well.)

Physical education was never your most favourite of classes. Partly because you just couldn’t seem to be good at anything that had to do with sports, and mostly because of all the sweat.

(And also, they separate the boys and girls. At least Suguru’s having fun playing basketball.)

“You have a pretty bad sense of smell, (last name)-chan! Maybe you’ll be a Beta?” Hayashi Yume is one of the few names that you actually do remember. A loud personality and openness to talking to everybody making it a breeze for her to get along with absolutely anyone.

Even you.

(When Gojo Satoru isn’t around, anyway. Suguru seems to think of her of a friend. Shoko too.)

There’s no fighting the most popular topic amongst the final year elementary students. No helping in the fact that this was all on each and everyone’s minds… But you just can’t really bring yourself to care.

“…what do you wanna be, Hayashi-san?” Just to change the topic away from you, away from this sudden spotlight that you don’t want. It was hard making a choice on this already… You don’t want to be ambiguous about it all over again should you be swayed.

“Oh, oh! I wanna be an Alpha, of course!” She gushes and squeals, hands on her cheeks and face alight with a blush so adorned with excitement. “My mother says it’s a one-way ticket to being successful in life! That’s why all the lead roles in movies are always played by ‘em!”

“Ehhh? But that’s just movies, though. Ya wanna be an actor or something?” Nishikawa Emi— You think. Hayashi-san’s best friend and possibly one of the few people in this school willing to talk to you despite your social circle.

You like her. She does the talking for you when you don’t know how to carry on— And you really like her nose bridge because it reminds you of your Saya-chan.

“N-No—“ A sigh, and crossed arms that finally loosen. “Fine, y-yea! I wanna be a famous movie star one day!”

(Hayashi Yume is really easy to read.)

“Pfft—“

“Stop laughing, Emi-tan!”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather be an Omega.” Nishikawa Emi nods to herself, her head tilted to the side, strong gaze flickering from her best friend to you and Shoko as her arms cross. “They got it really easy, no? Look pretty and they got any Alpha or Beta wrapped around their finger.”

“Eh…? Emi-tan, I thought fair-o-mones only affected Alphas and Omegas…?” Yume scratches at her head, her expression in clear confusion as she tries to recall the lesson they just had— Social Studies was always so difficult for no reason.

“Omegas are pretty enough to charm anyone, duh. My sister gave me a magazine and it was just full of pretty Omegas, and not even one of ‘em was ugly, so it’s gotta be true.”

“Huh…? Really…?”

(“(last name)-chan agrees.”

You think Nishikawa is right. Your Mama is super, duper, extremely heart-stoppingly beautiful. The prettiest around, even your Saya-tan would pale in comparison, and the old couple that lives across your home agree whenever you pop yourself through their gate to get the snacks they keep offering you.

“Mhm.”)

Only two out of three were mentioned to be positive. This must be what Amachi-sensei must have been talking about when she was going on about how there was a ‘bias’ and that ‘people don’t think everything can be equal’.

(Kinda makes sense now, you guess. But you’ll still keep true to your Beta favouritism. What’s so bad about being the most common? You would be able to fit in with lots and lots of people. Common interests save relationships! According to the daily advice channel, anyway.)

“Shoko, what do you wanna be?” It’s whispered and soft— Mindful of how she was quietly snoozing away on your shoulder as you feel her shift, hear her breaths shorten and her see her eyelashes flutter.

“Dunno…” She replies with a tone sluggish and tired, yet somehow able to perfectly comprehend your question. So she was listening despite being asleep. “Everything sounds like a pain to deal with. Don’t wanna choose…” And she’s back into dreamland.

An ambiguous answer.

“Ehhh? Ieiri-chan,” Yume shakes the sleepy girl’s shoulder. “You gotta at least like— Aaah!”

Maybe it’s your weird sense of heroism, the odd feeling of responsibility that came with being the person you are that you’re lunging towards the classmate that you didn’t know all that well, forcing her head down before the basketball could make direct impact with her face.

At the very least, you hope you don’t get a nosebleed. Please don’t let the hit be too hard, please don’t let it break your nose and require you to have emergency surgery like in that one movie Geto-papa played for everyone because Geto-mama didn’t allow you all to watch that one horror movie—!

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth clenched and jaw tightened. Please, please please please please…!

And— Nothing. Just air in your face, a breeze in your ears and the familiar, panicked sound of a ‘chu!’ as you hear something akin to a spring bouncing. The basketball rebounds off of the poor curse, making it take the brunt of the impact and a surprised squeak escaping it—

Before you watch it get recalled back.

Suguru.

“Ahh! Sorry, sorry! We didn’t mean ta let the ball get so far out of court!” You hear the stampede of feet, the smell of sweat and the feeling of your heartbeat trying to recover from all that adrenaline. “You girls al’right?”

“(last name)-chan almost got hit in the face saving me! Do you boys have no manners at all?!” It’s Hayashi that’s clinging onto you, her arms around your neck as her eyes are teary and her nose was starting to run— A clear show of how touched she was by your actions, before she’s standing up to match the boy’s height to ensue an argument.

(She was always the overdramatic kind. But it works out for you ‘cause heroes always love a good damsel in distress.)

“I said I was sorry!”

“You can’t even keep a single ball in court! What would’ve happened if (last name)-chan wasn’t here and Emi-tan didn’t catch Ieiri-chan?!”

(Mama did once say that people who argue like an old couple may get married one day. Best of wishes to Hayashi-san and… The boy that you can’t seem to remember the name of.)

“You didn’t get hit, right?” A hand settles on your head from above, before helping you to stand up from your tumbled position on the ground. Your eyes flicker up to meet droplets of purple reflecting spots of sunlight, noir hair hastily tied into a miniature ponytail and strands blowing in the wind, whilst the sweat on his furrowed brow was frowned into a panic.

He’s patting your face, your hair, cheeks, eyes, nose— “I’m just checking for bumps. You sure you didn’t get hit?”

“Mn.” You have to assure him as you take out your handkerchief from your pocket, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead and trying to soften the deep furrow. “Of course I didn’t. You’re the one who saved me.”

And you have full trust in him, no matter what. Shouldn’t that be expected? Suguru’s the coolest person you know.

(And Ieiri Shoko remains asleep, even when Suguru is checking you over once more and had to begrudgingly leave with the rest of the boys whilst muttering something under his breath— With the ball tightly clenched in his hands.

Shoko’s now snoozing on Nishikawa’s shoulder as she stays deep within her dream… That drama she was talking about must’ve been really nice.

“Wow… Ieiri-chan must be really tired.”

“…she was studying really hard for the math quiz all night.” Anything to save your dear Shoko’s reputation.

“What?! We have a math quiz?!”

Suguru’s team won the match, by the way. You saw a lot of the opposing team members practically drag themselves to class with bruised faces and sore arms.)

——

“Remember,” Her hand smooths down the messy strands of your bed head, your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth and your eyes groggily blinking at your blurry reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“I’ll love you no matter what you are, okay?” The hairbrush gently combs through locks of your hair, her breathing soft yet just that little bit breathless.

You don’t need much to discern that she was nervous, don’t need superpowers to be able to tell that your Mama was scared. The slightest tremble in her hands, the way she was picking at every strand of your hair that was seemingly ‘out of place’.

But you don’t— Won’t share the same sentiments. Because you don’t care much for this kind of thing. It’s just like taking a test, right?

One that you can’t study for or any of your friends to tutor you for, but still a test all the same.

“It doesn’t matter which one you turn out to be. You’re still you no matter which one, and that won’t change.” A minty exhale accompanied by her very evident stress, her hands fussing over every strand of your already very brushed out hair.

(Was it bad that you didn’t think this was that big of a deal?)

“Mhm…” You’re awake enough to know not to talk with your mouth foaming with toothpaste, awake enough to be aware of how there was just something in the air that had your Mama acting like this today.

(Maybe it’s one of those Heat things you heard Amachi-sensei go through a few weeks ago. Now you wish you paid more attention instead of playing with Suguru’s curses…)

Your eyes meet hers in the foggy mirror of your bathroom; her hair is only slightly messed up, her face ever so pretty, yet so worried as she bites her lip and hugs you close.

“I’ll bwe fwine, Mwama.” (“I’ll be fine, Mama.”) You know better, yet you just can’t help but want to comfort her right now— Even if it’s spat out through a mouthful of minty toothpaste foam and a toothbrush that nearly drops out of your mouth.

“Iiiee profwise.” (“I promise.”)

And that was that. Though, you can still feel her slight uneasiness even when she smiles at your attempt of tying your own shoelaces, can feel that the air just hasn’t settled into the usual calmness that you were used to even when you waved her goodbye at the gate.

(You hope it all goes well today. If not for you, then for your Mama. At the very least, just for her.)

“Satoru.” You smile, a hand going up to wave as you climb into the unassuming, yet extremely fancy vehicle waiting just outside your home.

“Good morning.”

It was like clockwork. Backpack onto the carpeted floors of the car, a moment to catch your breath and your hand reaching towards a head of fluffy white to pat—

Your wrist gets caught.

“Hmph.” He looks pouty, irritated. Like he was going to erupt into a tirade of angry rambling and start comparing you to the ugliest Digimons that he knew of.

“Why’d ya always do that? I-I’m not a kid, ya know?!”

Why? Because you’ve been doing it since… Forever, you guess. He’s never stopped you before, never stopped you until now. So why? Was it the change in the air today? The odd pressure in the atmosphere? It should be obvious, all because he’s—

“Because you’re cute, Satoru.”

He doesn’t look satisfied with that reply. Not at all, especially when he narrows his eyes at you into a glare.

(Cute.)

“What, like a puppy or somethin’? Ya making fun of me?”

“No.” You shake your head, watch as his fingers tighten themselves ever so slightly against your wrist. That’s definitely not how you see him at all, not at all what you feel when you look at him, no matter how cute he was. “That’s not it.”

“Then what?” He had a huff to his tone, irritation and exasperation as he pulls on your hand and forces you to lean closer towards him— To meet his awaiting blue glare.

“Because… I like you too much?”

Silence follows. The air changes, and you catch the shoulders of the nameless driver that usually never said much stiffening—

Did you say something wrong? Something that offended him? You… Didn’t, right? You’ve always called him cute, and he’s always been fine with it. With reddened tips of his ears and eyes that looked like they were gonna bulge out of his head as he covered his face with an angry swing of his arm—

“T-Then I don’t wanna be cute!”

Oh. That’s… Kinda sad. Is it because he doesn’t like you back? That can’t be it, can it? You’ve both been friends since 4, he can’t possibly say that he hated you for all that time, could he?

(But even if he did, you think you’d be at peace to know that he did used to like you. That would be enough.)

“Why not…?” You don’t have a mirror right now, but you’re pretty sure you just can’t help the look of deposed, kicked puppy look in your eyes as you frown. “Satoru, do you not like me…? Did I do something wrong—“

“C-Cute doesn’t mean super attractive! And n-nobody likes to be called that! Hmph!” And he turns away, his hand splayed out on your face and effectively blacking out your vision as he makes sure to keep this distance between you and him.

(So… It was an insult? Have you been insulting your dear Satoru all this time?)

“Sorry, Satoru…”

“Stop apologizing, you stupid dummy!”

“Sorry.”

“Times are always changing, isn’t that right, Saya-san?”

“Indeed, Mr. Reporter! It’s speculated that because of the shift of the moon into its next lunar phase, everyone will be experiencing a change in their life to come.” Her hands wave around, her smile ever so blindingly adorable as you stare up at her pretty face upon the television screen.

Her fingers delicately make a heart, a charming, moe-filled wink towards the camera as you nearly feel your heart stop. “So always expect change, even if it’s ambiguous! You never know if it can be a blessing or a curse if you don’t go and experience it for yourself!”

Maybe change can be a good thing too, if your Saya-tan embraces it.

(“Good… ‘orning…” Geto Suguru was never an early riser. Not even on a day as ‘important’ as this was as he groggily drags himself into the car.

“Suguru.” A turn of your head towards the boy as you shift further inside to make room for him, pressing shoulder to shoulder with your white haired friend as he continues the little ramble about a boss he was fighting. “You look handsome today.”

“Wha—“ And his purple eyes are now blown wide, cheeks growing warm and red splashing onto his face as he freezes midway through— Nearly falling back had it not been for Kimiko-san supporting him from behind. “What— Wha?”

“Hey—! That’s reserved just for me! Don’t go calling Weird Bangs that too!”)

——

“(last name)-san, right?” Her eyes scan over the your sheet of paper as you tiptoe over the counter to meet eyes with the nurse lady.

(You also think it’s funny she’s referring to you in such a formal way despite being so much older than you.)

It’s unfortunate that you had to be separated from your friends… Even Shoko had to wave you goodbye as she was taken away by a personal doctor, whilst you were whisked away and separated from the other girls after brief height and weight measurements.

“No abnormalities in the past few months, correct?”

“Mn.” Not that you know of, anyway. Mama usually answers these types of questions for you at the doctor.

So it is kinda weird answering for yourself. On your tiptoes and with your eyes barely making it over the oddly tall counter. You swore your Mama told you that you’ve been growing a lot lately.

“Please proceed behind the curtain.”

And you did, poking your head in to check for enemies hiding in a corner only to meet with a smiling lady. With a cool lab coat and the— Setho-something scope. Heartbeat reader thingy.

(You know because you saw an episode of Saya-chan roleplaying as a doctor once for a special episode of her zodiac sign forecast. Just because you’re 12, doesn’t mean you need to know the names of everything yet.)

“Hello there.” Her smile is kind. Soft and gentle… And makes you less scared of the fact that she’s a stranger as you slowly, shyly step into the makeshift ‘room’ surrounded by curtains.

“…hi.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” A hand over her mouth as she tries to stifle her laughter and the crow’s feet around her eyes making themselves all the more prominent as you… Relax slightly.

“Ho… Mura-sensei,” You think that’s what the name tag says as you sit down on the very soft, very plush seat. “Am I a Beta?”

(You need to check the brand for this chair. Maybe Satoru will buy it and let you have one of the old, weirdly comfortable chairs he’s got at his house. Mama has been pretending that her back doesn’t hurt lately.)

“Hm.” Her eyes trail over to her computer, before flickering back down to you with an amused chuckle. “Straight to the point, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” You wanna get out and get done. Then, you, Shoko, Suguru and Satoru are all gonna gather, open up the little envelope they give you with your assigned secondary genders, look at it and be done forever.

(Because nothing will change between all of you no matter what.)

“Smell this.”

And you do, bringing that little tin up to your nose and taking a big, big whiff of— Some sort of powdery substance inside?

“Powder…?”

The next didn’t seem to be any different, more of that stuff that smelled like nothing no matter how many big whiffs you took and exhaled out.

(Maybe it was some odd test for your nose. You hope you didn’t fail.)

“Form a fist with your hand and show me the underside of your arm, please.”

“…does the needle hurt?”

“Mm…” She thinks for a little bit, as if debating on the question that you gave her as she adjusts the thin needle. “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t, but only for a little bit.”

Well… Good. At least she isn’t lying to you. You don’t like liars. Liars would be like that doctor your Mama called an ‘old coot’ once because he ‘didn’t know what he was doing’ as she carried you out of his examination room.

“I’ll give you a lollipop afterwards.”

“Deal.”

(It did hurt. Kinda. You definitely think it did. Your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly during the process so you don’t even know if it went in or not.)

“It seems that your question has to be undetermined today, (last name)-san.” Her right hand fingers tap against the keyboard as she types sentence after sentence, left hand penning up a messy string of words that you blink at least 3 times at— Before giving up.

“You’ll be receiving your results a little later than everyone else.”

——

“It’s rare.” Eyes trail over another sheet of paper filled with too many hard words and numbers. “But not out of the ordinary. It just means she needs to take extra precautions.”

“What about medication? Is there anything that can be prescribed? It’s dangerous for—“

“(last name)-san. I understand your concerns as a mother, but there is little I can do when your daughter is unable to differentiate the primary scents.”

Middle school is when things get serious, they say. Exams, social lives, more exams, club activities, even more exams… And the high school entrance exams that will determine where you’ll go.

(You don’t even know who ‘they’ are. Who are ‘they’ even to say that? You don’t agree. Mama always tells you that you should enjoy being in the present, no matter how old you get.)

“It’s okay.” She pats your head as you both walk out of the stuffy doctor’s room, her words breathy and clearly stressed. “You’ll be the same as you are now…”

“Mama just needs you to take some medicine everyday from now on, okay?”

But, the first week of middle school is probably the first time that you realize… Geto Suguru is extremely popular.

“Geto-kun! Do you mind teaching me this part?”

“Geto-san~ Ame-chan and I are gonna go to the movies later! Do you want to—“

“Oi! Geto! Come join the Kendo club! Coach said he’s heard about you in elementary!”

More so than the white-haired counterpart that you’re pretty sure even the most grumpy, most abstinent of people would find attractive.

(Mama says it’s because looks can sometimes make up for a lot of brash personalities.)

“U-Um— Gojo-san, if you don’t mind, you can eat some of my bento…!” She’s bowing, shaky hands presenting her cutely wrapped lunchbox as she keeps her shy gaze towards the floor. “I-It would be an honour for you to eat it…!”

Awkward silence and Gojo Satoru staring down your poor classmate with eyes that shone with an extremely proud, azure twinkle.

“Heh.” There’s a pleased, shit-eating grin on his face and barely held back disgust in those pretty eyes of his that flickered to and fro from Suguru to the girl still standing before him. “An honour for you, huh?”

(As if he was trying to show off.)

“But you’re not suggesting that I should be eating that trash in your hands, right?”

(So, it was then that you realize it’s not just your Suguru’s handsome looks that made him so popular with the girls.)

“Satoru.” Suguru’s hand gently dabs a handkerchief against the snowy-haired boy’s face, pressing the soft cloth against his skin and imploring the boy to clear his nostrils lest he somehow infect the rest of you with his germs.

“Your nose is leaking.”

“It’s that damn dusty ass classroom’s fault! How the hell do you both withstand that place?” He sniffles before blowing his nose, pressing the cloth embroidered with Suguru’s initials against his face to wipe up his snot.

“If you knew you should’ve wiped it up sooner. You trying to be the grossest kid in school or something? Tired of being the perfect golden boy?”

“Cry about it and use those ugly bangs of yours to wipe your tears.”

They get along well now. As well as… Getting into spats about games, the weather, why the takoyaki stall you all frequent suddenly used a different brand of bonito flakes, how the inclination of the umbrella Satoru threw did not purposely hit that poor student, why there were badly drawn doodles of Suguru’s face everytime he lent his notes to the both of you— Seriously, how was it possible that they could argue about anything and everything?

It was like a talent in itself. One that you have taken as an everyday occurrence as you chew on another spoonful of rice and enjoy the peace of eating lunch together on the school rooftop.

(You’re pretty sure you’re not allowed up here, but you’re also pretty sure the Gojo family pulled some strings again. Must be nice being rich and powerful.)

He leans in, quickly stealing the bit of food from your chopsticks as you stare on in confusion.

Eh?

“…?” With your head tilted to the side and blinking at him 3 whole times to really make sure.

“What.”

“I thought you didn’t like commoner food?” Especially yours that you and your Mama had made together last night. It’s exciting to be able to bring your own lunch to school once every month. It’s kind of like having the sports festival you used to have in elementary.

Just without the sports.

“Don’t feed him. Let him starve because he forgot to bring his own food today.” Suguru retorts with a huff, stuffing another riceball into his mouth as he angrily chews— Despite the fact that Satoru literally had half a riceball that definitely did not belong to him in his hands.

(It’s nice that they’re nice to each other.

“Hey! If y’er gonna punish me for forgetting, at least remind me with a call or something!”

“No way. You’re just gonna complain that I interrupted you whilst you were in the middle of eating an entire jar of sprinkles.”

“Satoru, is the meatball any good? Kimiko-san gave the recipe to my Mama only recently so we didn’t have much time to practice.”)

“Oh yea!” Rice is on the corner of his lip as he talks through a full mouth. “Kimi-chan says ya need to eat y’er medicine afterwards too or whatever.”

“(name)-sama.” Her slender, calloused hands are gentle as they lift up and off of your face, revealing the 3rd eye on her forehead blinking down at you as you stare back in awe.

(Cursed techniques can be so cool looking.)

“It’s simply a case of equivalent exchange.” The sparkling iris of her eye studies you intensely, staring so vividly into you that it felt like it was peeling back layers of your skin and boring deep into your flesh.

“It looks to me like your body had exchanged your strongest sense in favour of being able to house your current amount of cursed energy…” She sucks in a breath as her face starts to turn blue, her hands turning pale before her special eye disappears— And her face returns to normalcy.

“So your current senses are now akin to a Beta despite your genetic makeup.”

“Satoru’s right, for once.” Suguru’s reaching into his pocket, pulling out a little notepad with specific timings written down. “You gotta take your medicine on time.”

But it tastes really bad—

“I’ll be upset if you don’t.”

And your shoulders slump in defeat just as Satoru takes hold of your chopsticks, stuffing a meatball into your mouth before plopping one into his own.

“Yea, Suguru’s got a point. It’s tough bein’ what you are and stuff, ya know? Even worse if you can’t even feel how ya affect the area.” He swallows. “It’s like putting up a barrier against ya ownself while everyone else already knows what’s going on.”

And you just have to wither on the bench in defeat, back against the wall and letting out a sigh as Gojo continues to help himself to your lunch.

“But Shoko’s got it easy, though…”

“Ieiri?” Suguru’s shoulder brushes against yours as he leans back to stare up at the same sky as you. “That’s cause she’s a Beta. She’s can’t be affected or affect anyone with pheromones.”

Sigh. It must be nice to be like that.

“I wish I was a real Beta.”

“So? What is it?” Satoru’s splayed out on your futon as he stretches his limbs, his backpack hastily thrown to your floor as Suguru watches you hold the letter in your hand.

“You nervous?”

A little bit.

“I’ll open it if you don’t want to.” Shoko pipes up from your side as she peeks over your shoulder at the still unopened letter. “I’ll even read it out loud from the start and stuff.”

“Don’t give it to ‘er. She’s gonna skip out on the important bit accidentally and not realize it cause she can’t read as good as me.”

Just do it, right? You’re going to have to tell your Mama sooner or later when she comes home. So you ignore the light chatter throughout your bedroom, hold your breath as you tear through the envelope and slowly read—

Ah.

*Your child has presented as an Omega.

*As this result came with abnormal observations with your child, (name) (last name), we invite you to make an appointment with Dr. Homura for further evaluation at your earliest discretion.

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nvy’s aftertalk;

sch has started again for me so i won’t be able to keep to the semi-regular schedule i’ve been updating this 🙂‍↕️

i’ll try to get my wedding fic up if possible if ykw that is and some other stuff too 😭

[foxgloveinspace]

Sldjdhdhakldkd

So, I finally pre-ordered TMBTE and I ordered the poem sweatshirt with it last night [didn’t think it’d matter if they both come at the same time cause 1). I ordered a week before release and 2). It’s already So Hot where I live I won’t get to wear it til November anyway] and every time I remember I have to happy stim lmao. lil shimmy dance, cause I’m so excited.