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angelwishess · 19 days ago

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𝜗𝜚 Floyra Intro Post !

❝Because theres no one on the land or in the sea more in sync than those two.❞

|| playlist. || moodboard. || pinterest quotes. || pinterest board. || (<- in the “Dynamic w Floyd” section!)

Floyra is the ship of my main oc, Kyra and Floyd! Kyra is my Yuusona twisted from the Disney Princess Stereotype.

This intro post is just to graph out the timeline and details of their relationship. Funfacts at the end :3 (Fair warning though, this ended up being SUPER long… So feel free just to skip to the funfacts if you want HAHAHA)

Please note I may or may not have changed some things in the canon storyline for my own amusement hehe. Nothing too major though.

Tropes :

Idiots to Lovers, Bestfriends to Lovers, Soulmates, literally the DENSEST people ever … Actually they’re more like cowards. Mutual pining, mutual SIMPING they ADORE eachother they are absolutely WHIPPED, chaotic lovey dovey couple, tooth-rotting fluff, no i mean seriously this is the fluffiest ship EVER, they make eachother both better and worse simultaniously. They share the same braincell. Basically already a couple before they even start dating but they dont realize it.

Kyra: “What?? Ofc we’re not dating lmao wdym we’re just friends!!” <- just held his face tenderly and looked into his eyes adoringly while calling him the prettiest boy in the world and kissing his face all over

Floyd: “yeah lol why would u think that” <- arm around her waist, basically always looking at her with a dopey grin and heart eyes

First Impressions

When Floyd heard that there was an unexpected appearance of a magicless student at the entrance ceremony that blazed in with a flaming fire tanuki and set fire to the mirror chamber, he was intrigued. When he learned that very same student was, quite literally, from an entirely different world, he was even more intrigued.

Not to mention the fact she lived in that rundown, deteriorating 'dorm' that was literally called Ramshackle, and she was almost expelled with two other guppies on the very first day of school.

But, when he saw her for himself he was... Disappointed.

Often times she just stood by the sidelines, seemingly in her own world with a far-off look in her eyes and an empty smile that ticked him off for no apparent reason.

She never reacted to anything, letting people walk over her like some sort of welcome mat. Somehow, she didn't even feel alive.

To put it bluntly— Floyd thought she was boring.

Just a wimpy, puny little shrimp who didn't even have any magic. Who wouldn't even run away if her life was on the line, weak and defenseless. Naive. How boring, and here he thought he had another play thing... But wheres the fun if he doesn't get a reaction out of it? How lame.

Kyra and Floyd only officially met during book 2.

Kyra passed by Floyd a bunch of times before— but never actually ‘saw’ him. Floyd on the other hand, already had an opinion of Kyra.

Seeing her just simply standing by the sidelines again and saying nothing and just… Staring. He decided to finally approach her straight up.

Deciding to give her a squeeze for the fun of it— he didn’t expect at all for her to hug him back and basically turn the situation on him instead. It flustered him, and made him walk away from the whole scene out of confusion and embarrassment.

Despite everything, Kyra thought Floyd was amusing. and insanely pretty.

Building Interest …

As time passed they seemed to keep catching glimpses of eachother. And with each passing day, she seemed to get more and more... Interesting.

Facing overblots despite having no magic, causing trouble left and right and getting into such ridiculous situations it makes you wonder how she does everything she does without getting tired of how absurd it all is.

When his first impression of her was her being ‘boring', his second was her being naive. How else could you explain it? She had to be either ridiculously brave or incredibly stupid and naive to do the things that she does.

Kyra and Floyd don’t have any notable interactions until the main events of Book 3.

When Kyra decided to strike up a deal with Azul to free all of the students under a contract— Floyd thought she was stupid. Naive, and way too easy of a target. It was laughable. It basically confirmed everything he thought of her.

As Floyd and Jade were monitoring Kyra and Grim as they packed up their things, Kyra acted as if nothing major was happening. Talking to them and cracking jokes like they were old friends. It was then Floyd and Kyra found out they might be more similar than they thought, saying the same things at the same time and holding the same opinions.

When Kyra almost dropped a bag of her things, Floyd helped from impulse. He laughed it off, but Kyra decided to give him a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you’.

He froze in place. Not expecting that kind of reaction from her once again, and just kind of… Staring at her as she passed. Jade had another laugh at his brother.

When Kyra first saw Floyd in his merform, he took the chance to try and scare her a little. Just for fun. But just like before— it totally backfired, and Kyra just looked at her with the same wonder as she did the first time. She had the nerve to call him ‘Beautiful’ under her breath, too.

So, Floyd simply swam away after realizing she wasn’t going to give him the reaction he wanted, deciding to play with someone who will.

But when he tried to attack a nearby friend of hers— She punched him straight in the face! A fire burning in her eyes as she straight up threatened him.

Floyd was… Confused. Confused about Kyra, i mean. One moment she was staring at him like he was a of work of art, the next shes throwing hands at him with zero hesitation. He thought she was a pushover— but maybe he was wrong.

She had guts, though. Thats for sure. A magicless little thing like her deciding to put her hands up and fight, even threatening him? A 13ft long eelmer that could rip her apart without a sweat? Something about it.. Scared him a little. Ending up with a bloodied nose, staring down someone who didn’t show any fear or any regret.

Floyd always wanted a challenge. But did he expect that challenge to come in a 5’7 package, decorated with pretty pink bows? No, not at all.

But thats something. And boy, does Floyd love the thrill of the unexpected. After this interaction that past intrigue he had in her before came back 2 times stronger.

It only worsened when Kyra’s little plan to destroy Azul’s contracts actually worked… And Floyd got chills seeing the look on her face.

It was so unlike what he thought of her. A big, smug grin. The face of someone who knows they already won. It was almost malicious. And it was then he realized— she wasn’t as dumb or as naive as he thought she was, either.

But when they got back to the Lounge, it so happened that Leona seemed to have missed one, single contract. When they spotted it, Kyra was the first to react. Managing to grab it before Azul.

Azul wasn’t too happy about it, screeching and yelling for her to give it to him, grabbing her while doing so.

And in that moment of tension, of fear and action, she did something that shocked everyone. In the face of danger, she held the sole contract tightly in her hands and she—

…She ate the contract.

She shoved the glowing papering in her mouth, and swallowed the thing. And it worked. Honestly they didn’t know which was more ridiculous… Her decision, or the fact it was a success.

She grinned so widely, so proudly. She had the nerve to even laugh in Azul’s face. “Yeah, thats right! Screw you, octoboy!”

Floyd couldn’t surpress the laughter that bubbled up his throat watching it all go down. The sound of her laugh ringing in his ears. It was just so… Ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

She had just outsmarted Azul… And the best solution she could think of was to eat the contract? It was downright cartoonish!

But when Azul overblotted, Floyd got to see Kyra in action. He was surprised all over again. But he should be used to it by now, he should expect it. She just keeps surprising him.

She was no pushover— rising up to the challenge when needed. Even if she still acted unserious, even if she acted goofy and wild, she still got down to business and made it work nonetheless.

And he realized she wasn’t anything like what he thought of her before. She was… Nothing like what he thought. Always surpassing his expectations of her no matter how much they changed.

Everytime he thought he had her figured out, she goes and does something that makes him rethink it all over again…

She was very, very interesting. And now, shes got his full attention.

Strangers to Besties!

After the main events of Book 3, Floyd had started following around Kyra more often. Actually, scratch that. He started following her around constantly. She eventually apologized for punching him in the face, too. Surprisingly.

Realizing they were actually very similar, they began hanging out more and more, until they eventually became an inseperable duo that everyone knew about.

At first, most were surprised. Kyra had only just started coming out of her shell, so most were still under the impression she was a sweet, mild mannered young girl.

But after befriending Floyd— all of her self-control truly did go flying out of the window. If she was bad before, she was even worse now. Freely skipping classes more often without a care to go find Floyd, trying to juggle live fish in the courtyard, or jumping out of a window just to escape some of the staff. and the like.

Late night adventures, dancing in the rain, sneaking out of class, spontaneous hang outs and sleepovers, pulling pranks and causing trouble left and right… They were so in sync, its was scary. Kyra was almost like a second Floyd, and everyone knew that it was probably best to run in the other direction when you see them side by side.

No matter what the situation, they always had eachother’s back, too.

It was strange to think they were ever strangers. They felt like they’ve known eachother for years— thats how well they’ve grown to know eachother. They were as thick as thieves!

Hanging out everyday, whenever they could, they just had so much fun together all the time!

To everyone’s dismay, of course. They were far too in sync, if the chaos around one of them was bad it combined when they were together.

Floyd finally found someone who could keep up with him, and even better, keep him on his toes. Kyra surprised him everyday, and thats what he loved. He found someone who understood him, too.

Kyra on the otherhand, found someone who encouraged all of her once repressed desires. She found someone she could be herself with, with no fear of judgement.

Never one without the other, those two. Wherever Kyra was Floyd was surely close to follow, and wherever Floyd was Kyra was most definetly near. They followed eachother around, always stayed close to one another.

Slowly, they’ve grown to not only seek eachother out to go and have fun, but also for comfort.

Platonic ..?

What started as a simple friendship which focused on the high of ‘having fun’ and causing trouble, or just basically being partners in crime— slowly turned into something much more… Intimate.

When Floyd stormed all the way to Ramshackle after a bad day at Mostro Lounge, he didn’t really know what to expect, he just wanted to get away from everyone else and Ramshackle was the best place he could think of.

He didn’t expect Kyra to be so caring. Pulling him into her arms and running her fingers through his hair while encouraging him to rant.

Kyra had always been an affectionate person, he knew that. It started small— little kisses on the cheek and forehead from Kyra to him, hugs and the like. But this was different. It felt different, atleast.

The way she held him felt different, and the way her lips gently kissed his skin made all of the stress from before sizzle into nothing.

He couldn’t help but melt, and before they knew it this became a routine for them, too.

They grew to find themselves comfortable being vulnerable around eachother. Showing sides of themselves to eachother most wouldn’t see. And they knew eachother better than anyone else did.

Simple, friendly touches became something more. The playful wrap of Floyd’s arm around her waist became tighter, and Kyra’s touches on him lingered for longer. Suddenly the playful ‘I Love You’s didn’t seem platonic anymore— atleast not with the way they looked at eachother while they said it.

Simply seeking eachother out to go cause chaos turned into seeking eachother out to just simply be in eachother’s presence instead. Whatever activity they did started to come second, and as long as they were together they were as happy as could be.

Of course, they never recognized this change. In their point of view, they’ve always been like this. But everyone else can see as plain as day, that something definetly changed.

It was painful for everyone involved, really. For some reason neither of them seemed to acknowledge the obvious feelings between eachother.

Everyone could see the way they looked at eachother, the way they acted around eachother… Everything was so painfully blatant… But they still couldn’t admit it. Even when the lines between friendship and intimacy began to blur.

Realizations!

Nothing about their relationship really changed at this point. They just kind of realized their romantic feelings after being deep in denial for WAYY too long.

The first to realize their feelings was actually Kyra, believe it or not. Which is funny because shes never been the best at realizing her own emotions in general.

She was definetly panicked about it, and decided to not say a word of it to anyone. She didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had, after all he was her dearest friend. So she kept her mouth shut and continued on pretending like it was nothing.

She felt selfish having such feelings. She felt as if she didn’t deserve him, like he deserved better than her because she grew up thinking she must be unlovable. And so she kept quiet for the sake of him, too. She thought it was best for the both of them. (<- LIARRRRR!!!!!!)

Floyd realized a little later, it kind of just hit him one day. They weren’t doing anything in particular, he just looked at her and went “Oh. Ohhh.”

Like a lightbulb went off in his head. He didn’t say anything about it either for awhile. Eels are cowards, after all. And he didn’t know if she felt the same. So he just decided to act like nothing happened, continued this routine of theirs that they’ve grown attatched to.

Maybe there were afew times where they wanted to say something about it, to finally admit the unspoken thoughts they’ve had kept in the back of their minds… But they never go through with it. Always backing out last minute, brushing it off.

The two were cowards, dancing around their mutual feelings. Unsure of how the other felt, so they decided to just leave it all unsaid. Even if the look in their eyes said otherwise.

Saying they were just “best friends” was just so much easier. It was what they were used to, what they were comfortable with. It was easier to brush it all off as them being comfortable eachother, sharing beds and exchanging gentle touches. It was all platonic, of course!

…Though Floyd was hesitant with his own feelings. He never expected to find someone that captured his interest so much… Yet he wondered, was he ready to commit?

Strangely, there was no doubt in his mind. It was yes, it always was, yes. The moment he asked himself that question he answered it immediately at the same time.

Of course, because he realized if it was Kyra, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do. Man, when did he get so whipped for such a silly shrimpy?

Merfolk only choose one mate for life. And Floyd is sure he wanted his to be Kyra.

He was scared of course after realizing his own feelings. Besides Azul and Jade, he's never let anyone get this close to him. It was strange letting Kyra in like this. He didn't plan on her, not at first at least. but now that he has her, he wants to keep her forever.

Man, she just kept surprising him, huh? He never even thought he could feel so deeply for someone. But hes so glad that he found her, that they found eachother.

Difficulties…

When Kyra left with Epel, Rook and Elena during Book 6, Floyd was upset.

Thats an understatement, really. He was furstrated, worried, and somehow he even felt betrayed.

Why didn’t she tell him? Why didn’t she take him with her? Doesn’t she know its dangerous? Whats a shrimpy like her gonna do, huh?

He knows Kyra can take care of herself, he knows shes capable and he knows she can defend herself. But that doesn’t stop him from worrying.

Throughout the span that shes gone Floyd is restless. Hes snappier, hes moodier and he cant seem to stop pacing around no matter how hard he tries.

But when Kyra gets back— he completely ignores her.

Kyra was so very confused. Actually, everyone was. This was a first for the two of them. Honestly, Kyra expected him to run towards her just like he always does. But he doesn’t.

Kyra is back, but that doesn’t change his mood. If anything, it worsens. And Kyra doesn’t have a clue why! Everytime she tries to approach him, he just turns his heel and walks away. And hes never looked at her like… that..

Kyra is a total mess. And suddenly shes not as good as keeping her real feelings at bay like she usually is. She wondered if she did something wrong? Said something wrong? Was he finally sick of her? And that was when she realized— she was terrified of the thought of losing him.

In desperation she went to Jade. Maybe she should’ve asked Elena for advice instead, but before she knew it she was sat infront of Jade, asking for help with his brother.

If anything, Jade seemed amused with her situation. Of course he did. But with a mischevious twinkle in his eye, she had a feeling he had a scheme brewing up in his head.

Maybe she should’ve known better than to trust Jade… But she didn’t really have a choice, or so she thought as much.

Something about this situation felt so… Deliberate. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed like he knew she’d come to him for help sooner or later.

After giving Kyra some advice and words of encouragement, he did something rather out of character of him. Bringing into a hug, he held her rather close to himself.

Kyra didn’t really notice this, and accepted the hug with no hesitation. Wrapping her arms around him and sighing as she melted into the well-needed hug.

Little did she know, Jade’s eyes were glued onto his brother’s figure, looming by the doorframe with a scowl on his face. It made Jade chuckle, deciding to tighten her arms around Kyra juust a little more to see what he’d do.

Of course, Floyd wasn’t happy about it. Now, Floyd is not a jealous person by any means. He has better things to focus on, other things to keep him entertained. But at moments like these, when hes already in a bad mood, he can’t help that primal instict, its in his blood after all. A moray is a moray.

Tearing her away from Jade, he drags her to somewhere else. Leaving a very amused Jade watching them leave.

And so, an argument occurs !!! Its a back and forth, Floyd mad about what he just saw, Kyra trying to explain the situation then her getting mad at him back for avoiding her like the plague.

It ended up with Floyd admitting he was mad because she didn’t tell him about her going with them, but at the same time he was mad at himself for not being able to be with her then.

Kyra realizes that, yeah, she probably shouldve let him know she was going. But she couldn’t just brush off the fact he hurt her by doing what he did, shes grown enough as a person at this point to not let her own feelings go unheard.

Reconcilliation!!! They both apologize and promise to do better, and what better way to catch up on lost time than a sleepover??

Best believe that after they made up, they went back to their normal selves as if nothing happened— actually, maybe even worse with how much clingier they are. They seriously missed eachother, seeing how much they stuck together. 😭

“Home”?

When Kyra got news of the possibility of finding a way back to her home she was in shambles. So very conflicted between the place she called home and the place she felt was home.

She knew she had to leave some day. She knew this freedom she had was temporary. She knew one day, she’d have to go back to the life she grew to despise, the life that was never hers.

She didn’t want to leave, though. Of course she didn’t. But still, she didn’t really have a choice.

She decided she wouldn’t do the same mistake and leave Floyd out of the loop. If anyone deserves to know first, its probably him.

And so, while theyre sitting on the rooftop of Ramshackle she mentions it. And Floyd is… Upset. Of course he is. Hes beyond upset, really. He just got his best friend back, now hes hearing she might be going away again? For good? Forever?

No way. He couldnt accept that, there was no way he could. But before he could even say anything— Kyra spoke first.

“I don’t want to go back. I really, really don’t.”

“…You don’t? Huh? Why?” There was a wave of relief that crashed over Floyd when he heard those words fall from her lips, his eyes glued onto the girl beside him. Hanging onto every word she says. “No. Its just… Its not my home, atleast not anymore. I dont think it is.”

“I think, this is my home now.” She chuckles, eyes glued down to the ground below. “…Because you’re here.” She says, turning to look at him. She spoke in that tone that she only used behind closed doors. When no one was looking. That soft, sweet voice she used whenever she carded her fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings to him until he fell asleep. It wasn’t unauthetic like the voice she used when they first met— no, it was genuine. Real. Full of adoration, of fondness. Her gaze held so much love.

“…Hah, what’re you gettin’ all sappy for, Sea Angel? Thats so cringe.” He laughed, but his heart soared. Even if it was cheesey, he couldnt help but swoon with just the way she looked at him. Like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. She always said he was the prettiest boy in the world.

She moved forward, her face leaning ever so close to his, so close he could see every line and curve of her features. He laughed at first, “Hey, what’cha tryna do, huh? What? Do I have somethin’ on my face?” He joked, but she didn’t respond. It looked like she was thinking, like she was deep in thought. “…Kyra?”

Her name left his lips for what was the first time. Hanging in the air like a silent prayer of longing, of want. And her own lips met his. Capturing it in a sweet, sudden kiss.

Time seemed to have stopped. It always felt like that when they were together, but this was different. Nothing could prepare him for that— hell, he didn’t even get the chance to kiss her back, the moment felt as if it went on forever but it was over too quickly all the same.

There was a flash of realization on Kyra’s face as her cheeks flushed a red that could rival Riddle on a rampage. Stumbling and stuttering, she couldn’t handle the embarrassment, and before he could even say anything she ran away. Leaving him on the rooftop, wide eyes and a stomach full of butterflies.

Yeah. Kyra is really stupid sometimes.

After that whole thing, she ran to Leona to let out her thoughts. He listened, though he said he ‘didn’t have a choice anyway’.

“So… You kissed him then you just.. Ran? Seriously?” “I PANICKED!!!”

Floyd and Kyra don’t really interact until Malleus’ overblot. And during the time they’re in Floyd’s dream, shes hoping he doesn’t bring up what happened at the rooftop.

Confession!

The confession takes a long, LOONG time. Im talking probably around book 7 or later. Probably when Kyra confirmed that shes staying in Twisted Wonderland. (Everyone thank Papa Crewel, he sorted out her documents for her :33)

Hehe because eels are cowards and they dont take the shot unless theyre sure it’s a winner. So he waits, and waits some more. And of course, that kiss was the sign he needed to finally just go for it.

Eventually, Floyd does confess. Although I still haven’t thought of the details— it does go something like this.

When Kyra at first laughs at him thinking it was a joke, he got annoyed. He didn’t think this was funny, and after seeing the serious look on his face she stopped immediately.

After realizing he was being genuine, she started straight up BAWLING. Sobbing, because she couldn’t believe someone could ever love her the way she is.

Shes deemed herself as unlovable so very long ago, she didnt expect the person she adored so much to ever love her back. She felt selfish, wanting to accept his feelings. But she wanted to be selfish at that moment.

Floyd has never been one to comfort people. He was never the best at it, but if its her, he’ll try. He always does. It was weird, but if it was her he always found himself doing things he’d never thought he’d do for someone else.

When Kyra started rambling about all of the reasons he “shouldn’t” love her, he started talking about why he loved all of those sides of her. Kissing away her tears n’ all. AUAUAUUUGGHHHH

It was honestly super emotional ESPECIALLY for Kyra, but she of course accepts the confession and they FINALLY KISS PROPERLY OH MY GOD THANK U !! ROUND OF APPLAUSE !!!!!!!

Floyd also calls Kyra by her actual name instead of ‘Shrimpy’ or ‘Sea Angel’ during this confession :3

“Its About Time!”

Honestly, nothing much changes after they confess.

Sure it takes some time to get used to them being officially a couple, but they’re still mostly the same.

However, I’d like to think that they just… Don’t mention it to anyone. Not because they’re keeping their relationship a secret, they just ?? Dont ???? Because they’re weird like that idk and its funny to me

For awhile no one actually knows they’re dating, and one day when someone comments on how they really should just suck it up and start dating they’re like “oh, lol we already are” “WHAT—“

Floyd definetly brags about Kyra a lot though 😭😭 and Kyra does the same… theyre both so down bad its SICKENING.

Funfacts!

Floyd was kind of scared of Kyra for a little while LMAOO 😭 shes a little TOO freaky …

Floyd has stayed over at Ramshackle so much that he’s has a bunch of stuff over there. An extra toothbrush, some changes of clothes, you name it. Its probably there. You can bet Floyd just lets himself into Ramshackle all the time, sometimes even in the middle of the night. But Kyra is always so chill about it 😭 (only because its Floyd HEHE)

Before they even started dating— behind closed doors they already acted like an old married couple 😭

Kyra and Floyd are lowkey super domestic behind closed doors, especially after a sleepover. Waking the other up with kisses ….. Helping eachother get ready for the day, helping eachother get dressed … Cooking together …….. theyre so sickening …………

Even if they aren’t with eachother all the time, they still manage to include eachother in their lives somehow. Whenever they go off on a solo-adventure, they always come back with some sort of trinket that reminded them of the other.

Speaking of, they’re both avid collectors of anything they deem cool enough. Random rocks, acorns, a lost penny, you name it. They like to show eachother the things they found throughout the day to eachother!

They have this silly little game Kyra started. She began hiding little sticky notes with sweet messages or a doodle and sometimes gifts in places she knows Floyd will find, and he’s started doing the same thing. Ever since then, its kind of become more like a competition on who can find the most sticky notes 😭

Kyra gets cuteness aggression from Floyd. Yeah thats it.

^^ she genuinely believes hes the cutest thing ever. Whatever u say queen!!!!

Floyd loves giving Kyra random gifts out of nowhere. The gifts can range from ‘a cool rock’ to a designer jacket. Kyra doesnt know which she prefers HAHAHA

Kyra herself prefers handmade gifts, so she loves to make Floyd pieces of jewelry and clothing! Shes always so proud whenever she sees him wearing something she made :3

Floyd and Kyra have been kicked out of class several times for laughing too hard.

They admitted to eachother before they even started dating that they couldn’t imagine their life without the other… can they pls take the hint omg

Floyd always feels super bad whenever he loses control of his temper around Kyra. One time he snapped at her, and he immediately apologized 😭 he told her to slap him if he ever did that again, hugged her so tight too and Kyra honestly found it so cute 😭

Floyd always perks up whenever he realizes Kyra is close by, always running straight to her. Kyra does the same thing and quite literally jumps into his arms.

Both Kyra and Floyd’s main love language is physical touch!! But Kyra loves to compliment him all the time, and Floyd loves gift giving :3

Kyra always greets Floyd with a kiss on the cheek. Yeah she started doing this before they were event dating im afraid ….

Kyra and Floyd love to read together at night, though Kyra usually falls asleep first AHAHAHA

But !! Kyra is also the first to wake up more often than not, and always wakes Floyd up with butterfly kisses on his face :3

Floyd convinced Azul to add some of Kyra’s favorite foods to the menu of Mostro Lounge just to get her to come visit more often

Kyra fights anyone that bad-mouths Floyd. Floyd doesnt know whether to find it cute or annoyed that she keeps getting herself hurt 😭

^^ SPEAKING OF, Kyra literally unlocked a much more caring side of Floyd with her being so accident-prone 😭 girlie got herself injured so much FLOYD had to step in smh …

Floyd is the kinda guy to carry Kyra if her feet started to hurt while walking or if she sprains an ankle teehee

They’re both banned from an arcade in town after they broke a claw machine and stole all the plushies inside. And other things but that isnt as important.

When Floyd feels like hanging out with her, he’ll look for her around campus then just throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes then just walks away. Kyra never struggles or objects and kind of just … accepts her fate 😭

Rambling…

Kyra grew up thinking the love she received will always be conditional. That she always needed to live up to some sort of expectation, and so she created a ‘perfect’ persona in order to do just that.

She still keeps that persona from the Prologue to Book 1, but begins to break away from it during Book 2– but while in her past she was only loved for the version of herself she created for others— it was the opposite with Floyd.

He disliked her so-called ‘persona’, but fell so deeply in love with her real self.

^^ she was very confused, yet so very happy.

Floyd never expected to ever love or care about someone so deeply, but at the same time he can’t imagine anything he wouldn’t do for Kyra.

Floyd thinks everything is fun as long as Kyra is with him <3

Kyra only ever started showing her more vulnerable side to Floyd during her character development. He was the very first to ever see her break away from the unbothered act she always put on.

Floyd was never one to let himself be so soft and vulnerable around anyone, ever. But strangely, he lets his guard down around Kyra. Kyra knows of the much gentler side to him, and she adores it so very much.

Kyra is extremely understanding and patient of Floyd and his mood swings. She knows he’d never intentionally hurt her, and always knows just how to cheer him up. Whether with a silly joke, a spontaneous adventure or just lying in bed with him in her arms.

Kyra trusts Floyd with her LIFE. She trusts him so much its ridiculous. No matter what the situation, she always feels like she can rely on him… But she wont trust him with her food. Or her plushies.

Extra: Incorrect Quotes (?)

I have more on my 🎀! twst shennanigans tag lol

#🎀🦈! floyra #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst yuu #yuusona #oc x canon #twst oc x canon #floyd leech #twst floyd

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ofswordsandpens · 11 months ago

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I've enjoyed episode 3 the most so far, but I think the show is still struggling to find a good balance between taking itself seriously and the absurdist humor that RR writes with. My main takeaways:

The Fight Scenes (or Lack Thereof?)

It seems very peculiar to me that the show is just speed running through its battle scenes. Again, it feels very much like the product of Disney trying to sanitize anything that's too extreme?

The trio fleeing from the kindly ones in the book ended with Percy taking control of the bus and then crashing it. It explodes. They lose all of their stuff (money, food). In the show, they simply bail out the back window. No true panic. No tension. Just, okay :) we're leaving now :)

The Medusa Scene. I'll speak more to this later, but in terms of the fight we get to see... well we get to see nothing. Apparently this fight required us to view it through the lens of the invisibility cap (ie. not at all),

I understand this show is intended for a younger audience, but the books are as well. Even the movies, which are pg, came up with better ways to show things without necessarily showing things. As a result, it feels like anything that might induce the slightest bit of tension or fear are sanded down and its honestly doing such a disservice to the books and the audience.

Medusa

I actually really liked this portrayal of Medusa. The 1950s housewife vibe landed well for me. And I loved the actress's voice -- very soft and soothing but always sounding as if she were just about to cry.

Also, I really liked her dialogue. Her digs at Athena and Poseidon were perfectly tragic.

That being said, I really prefer the trio's arrival to the emporium in the book. In the books, they've been wandering the woods and are lost and exhausted and hungry because of the battle/bus crash where they've lost all of their stuff. It almost feels like the emporium popping up "out of nowhere" was more of it finding them.

Meanwhile in the show, Grover finds it through scent on a satyr path and they immediately know its Medusa, which imo takes out so much of the fun of it all??? In the books, they dont know. Grover's just like, freaking the ever living fuck out, and clearly Percy and Annabeth have let him take sole custody of the shared brain cell, cause they're more concerned about getting some food than anything else

Just... RIP dumbass shenanigans

And honestly, I'm not really sure what necessitated the change here in the show (of them not being tricked). It would have been one thing if they were going to change Medusa entirely to not wanting to harm them at all, but imo, I think its arguable/evident that show Medusa was looking for an excuse to petrify Annabeth and Grover (at minimum) regardless of anything.

Honestly, I would have had the show loosely play it out as: book arrival (they dont know its Medusa), keep the dumbass energy and banter, the trio figures out it Medusa while they're eating, Medusa is the more sympathetic version we see in the show, regardless it still ends with the battle.

Also, I do mourn the book battle. The panic and absurdity is just handled better imo. Annabeth shoving them off the bench, Grover flopping all over the place with the shoes but actively getting a good few hits in, Percy having to use to the reflection to behead her... the #TeamWork was emphasized a little more there to me.

Characterization

I think the show is absolutely nailing certain parts of the characters.

They've gotten Percy's anger and his derision towards the gods down. But, I think they're actually underscoring some of his, idk, sincerity? His kindness? It was the line "she met a pinecone's fate" that just rang off to me. While undoubtedly funny, it's just such a stark difference from his reaction to Thalia's story in the books, where he was unsettled by her fate and felt a sincere sympathy for her. The line in the show I assume is meant to criticize the gods, but still, it feels like it comes at the expense of the sensitivity that he has.

They've gotten Annabeth's bluntness, intelligence, pride, and superiority down cold. No question about it. But I feel like they just need to let her be more of a 12yo kid?

Like. In canon she and Percy banter and argue over the silliest of things. She plays hacky sack with Grover and Percy. She blushes and hyperventilates when Luke interacts with her. Episode 3 is like the first time we've gotten to see her do something remotely childish (buying all that candy) and I'm just dying for more of that!! She's not the "mom" of the group and she has her canon dumbass moments. I'm hoping more of this is captured moving forward. They've gotten a good start on the banter, but let Annabeth be more silly! Cause she is!

(Absolutely none of my personal qualms about the characterization are Walker or Leah's fault. They've done amazing. It's the writing/directing I'm side-eyeing).

OH! And I'm sorry but Percy being like "Annabeth we're going to bury medusa with your hat on" would have never ever flown with Annabeth. In no world.

But Grover eating them up at the end? Iconic. Good for him.

#pjo adaptation #pjo show crit #pjo

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flowershines · 1 year ago

Text

Say that again

Peeta Mellark x Stripper F. reader

warnings: name calling, smut, dom mike, hard dom, insulting, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

Nights usually were not as tense as tonight was, when Peeta had gotten home from his job he got no sleep and of course had to get snotty with you, just because he was tired.

Arguing back and forth to the point of almost screaming just to get their point across, but that wasn’t even the worse part.

Peeta was too tired to argue that he had forgotten what you guys were arguing about making you even more mad, at this point he just kept going to hear his own voice.

But before we get into the arguing currently, the reason the whole argument started was because he insulted your job which of course isn’t that bad but he kept going till he started arguing about the things that you always do wrong.

“Peeta you really should start at least taking a nap before work so that way you dont come home tired.”

“I don’t need your help, Y/n.”

“Oh ok, I was just trying to help, sorry.”

“You should be and I don't want your help just stop being clingy and leave me alone.”

“What is wrong with you, I was just looking out for you.”

“Well don’t it’s not your job, oh speaking of jobs you do yours?”

“I-”

“Exactly what I thought so dont talk to me till you get your priorities straight.”

“You act like I don't have a job.” You said laughing at him

This made him even more pissed, “Oh sorry forgot you get praised by other men by dancing in their face while they put money in your pocket like some filthy piggy bank.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He said inches away from your face then walked away.

“Atleast they fuck better than you.”

“What did you just say.”

“You heard me.” You said mimicking his tone.

Now both of you guys were just arguing about how you started doing your job, defending yourself he just kept coming at you.

When you both first started dating he knew about your job and he was okay with it, because you were helping out the both of you out with the money.

The part that got him riled up was when you said that they fucked better than he does.

You made a deal with him that you wouldn’t have sex with any of the customers.

That’s why he was screaming at you now.

“So do you just go around whoring which every guy you meet or just your customers.”

“I just was saying that to rile you up.”

“No you weren’t, you know what my ex has better pussy than you.”

“Oh for real.”

“Yeah.”

With that you grabbed your jacket and keys then started walking to the door.

“Where you going?”

“Not like you care or anything but i’m going to my job to find a guy that can dick me down, cause you don’t do shit for me.”

“Bull shit, i always make you cum.”

“Oh but apparently you also make your ex cum too, so go fuck her.”

“No Y/n I didn’t mean it.”

“Nah you good, i’m pretty sure there are gonna be cute guys there too. I mean there always is and guess who always gets them, ME.”

Grabbing the door knob you started to put your jacket on and leave to go to your car, you knew that you weren’t going to do any of the things you were taking about.

But you just wanted to see if he actually cared.

He grabbed you hand before you left and threatened you saying.

“If you go fuck some guy i’m fucking my ex and sending a video to you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too.”

He held the sides of your face and placed a hard and passionate kiss, he kept kissing you and occasionally biting your lip in the process.

“Ow, Peeta what the fuck.”

“Just shut up and enjoy.”

“How can I you can’t even make me cum.”

“Wanna test that out.”

You laughed in his face riling him up even more than he already is, he pins you against the door and humps his hard on, on your thigh.

“This is what is going to be making you beg that you never said that.”

“Yeah… Okay.” You said laughing again

He continued kissing you roughly and biting your lips and sneaking his tongue into your mouth.

Humping his hard cock on your thigh feeling it twitching, you try your hardest not to give in to his needs.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you into your shared bedroom and pushed you onto the bed.

“Hey!”

“What’s wrong I thought you liked being treated like a slut?”

You just rolled your eyes, he stripped your pants off your legs and kissed from your thigh up to your clothed heat, noticing how wet you are.

“See you like it, fucking slut.”

He pulled your underwear to the side and stick his finger into you then going to suck on your clit.

He adds his middle finger as he fingers you and eats you out at the same time, not wanting to give in to him you didn’t encourage him nor play with his hair.

You just brought your nails up to your face and started looking along with picking at them acting like he wasn’t even doing anything.

This pissed him off, he yanked your underwear off and unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.

Still looking at your nails you tried to ignore what he was doing but your thoughts were interrupted by him entering you.

You softly moaned trying to have him not hear, his breathing was shaking.

“You like being fucked like this?”

He started to slam his cock in you at a vigorous pace, then he pulled out making you clench around nothing.

He put you on your stomach and told you to put your ass up.

Doing so you grabbed your phone and started playing a coloring game, he then started fucking you again.

“I know your just fucking with me, i know you like this dick by the way you clenching around me.” He grunted

“This pussy is mine, not some random customers.”

He then started going as fast and hard as he could at this point you couldn’t hold it in anymore and gave in to him.

“Fuck.”

He was a groaning and moaning mess behind you.

“I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Fuck, me too.”

He was still going in you he usually has pulled out by now.

“What are you doing?”

“Cumming in you.”

“What? Why?”

“So every time you think of us fucking think of my cum still in you and to remind you of what happens when you pull that shit with me.”

With that he moans in your ear and cums in you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything I said earlier.”

“I know, i’m sorry too.”

#josh hutcherson smut #peeta mellark smut #peeta mellark #josh hutcherson #smut #fluff

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adeptus-nonsense · 1 year ago

Text

humans are poets as well as warmongers

Humans nowadays are well known far and wide in this galaxy. Mostly because they are some of the most chaotic, Stupid or bold "daredevils" around (think i used that word correctly).

While i do recall my first meeting with the humans very V E R Y badly since i served in the contact wars when the Graktuka a well known theocratic empire and very influential and politically strong contender in the galaxy stumbled across human colonies. They saw this as an hostile action since the planet they were settling were a holy world, That however is a story for another time.

Just know that the Graktuka empire shrunk by a significant margin to the point where they asked for militairy support. The humans had apparently developed a kind of magnetic accelerated firing plattform piercing through multiple layers of hull completely ignoring shields. Given that Graktuka empire relied on shields since most of the galactic arsenal is plasma based but their hull wasn't weak at all. Unconventional weapons had to be used to even dent their armour. Realising that the humans ships were massive but rather primitive and slow a ground based invasion was seen to be the optimal way off going.

If you were there you would know why humanity is as feared as they are. Masters of the what did they call it? Art of war? Yeah something like that. Fields of bombs buried into the ground detonating with a light step. Weapons dedicated to injure soldiers just enough to save them but not kill them in order to make the invader spend more resources on saving said soldier.

Even our bases of operations with shields were not safe, let me tell you if you think regular humans can cause damage to stuff by touching things dont even get near trained saboteurs with your stuff. They break things in a ways that seems like a simple malfunction and will work after a simple repair. When the shield generator first broke down i thought i could fix it in a matter of minutes, I still havent fixed it to this day and i have taken that thing apart thousands of times without finding the fault.

safe to say we lost that war and this is just one one planet. This was the short part. Just be glad that they pack bond with just about anything. Saw a human carry a cleaning unit and named it "Ronald the Roomba" And that is apparently our ships mascot. But this is things we all are aware of. Let me tell you of their poetic side

This is not something most of us see as common knowledge about humans, but their cultural aspect besides war is for a lack of better words beautiful. This thing they call music.

for all their wars they know how brutal they are and write songs about everything they did wrong and how they wished how they could change it. But that is not all, according to human Jakob music portrays emotions and ones feelings in a way that regular communication doesn't and you dont even need to understand the words to understand the emotion said piece is carrying. Which i know to be true, it's almost therapeutic

I think My log of it will be a better way to describe since it is honestly hard to describe [alltough be careful their music is quite loud for most prey species]

Year 4574 human sector 456854 log 1 of service leave. I am currently here on a passion project of mine. While the war has ended 6 years ago off now the tensions do still exist. Me and some comrades in service are taking some time off and going to what humans call a bar and apparently there is a human performing. I have no idea of how this is gonna go. All i know is humans are incredibly chaotic especially when intoxicated. Still i should probably record this for the culture scientists at social scientific hub.

Log 2

*murmur and loud talking in the background at the bar*

"for clarifications sake, my name is Groakslo, i am here with my two comrades Kyukla and Telosa. We are currently at the bar only to see that humans are actively drinking poison, i was quite shocked to hear this and asked if it isn't dangerous and the bartender said and i quote "nah we gucci" note to self find out what gucci is."

Log 3

"the humans were beginning to get rowdy and even slight outbursts of violence did occur but nothing the surprisingly loud bartender couldn't handle by a very concerning threat, followed by him saying that the band is preparing so settle down. Telosa and i looked at each other very confused but still awaited this "band"

Log 4

"the band arrived and started to set up weird things, long instruments with metal strings, of varying thickness, i asked the a human who were close by what they were and he said instruments. I asked what they were used for and he said to play music. I was getting nowhere and decided to see for myself what they were gonna do."

Log 5 (i decided to be quiet for this one)

"welcome folks and aliens of all sorts shapes and kinds! Thank you for coming to this bar for our first debut our name is The Lines In between, and for those who dont know human music, we'll slowly lean you into it with this first on and it is namned Memories beneath the stars" [3 hours of music recorded]

Final log (yes i know i could voice record but i want to write while the memory is fresh i'm bad with words)

I never knew that humans could make such songs. Telosa and Kyukla was particurlarly affected. The song was as the name suggest the memories we made sneaking out to watch the stars as younglings, reminiscing about the times when the stars were the most unknown, adventure filled and beautiful place to be in. But also about the connections they've lost over the years, the good times wiped away like a water slowly polishing a stone into sand. It was odd, beautiful calm, sad all at once.

The voices i heard when i fought humans in war can not even be compared to that of the singer in that band, what is most perplexing is that the once borderline rioting bar was completely quiet when the band was performing, almost as if in a trance completely captured by the singers voice, smooth, rough, raspy but controlled in a way i thought impossible. A song about 4 human minutes somehow managed to capture the full emotional spektrum of not only humans but multiple species in that bar.

Humans truly are an astounding species. Truly a species that are on all of the extremes, stupidity, ingenuity, violence, poetry and many many more. For now i'll sign off and hope you at the social cultural exchange fellas have a field day with the music file attached to this.

Grokslo, highly decorated former geothermical shield generator militairy specialist.

#humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are space fae #humans are space orcs #this is my firsy real post and more to come :)

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ppushable · 4 months ago

Text

two ibuprofen

jean kirschtein x gn!reader / oneshot / wc: 7.3k

part 1 of rose tinted hours

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Sunday morning. What's the best way to spend a Sunday morning?

Craned over the plaguefest of the guy I'm dating-not-dating, trying to shove two ibuprofen down his throat?

(It works the second time.)

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

ao3 tags:

ok here we go / Alternate Universe - College/University / Sickfic / Sick Character / Fluff / Kissing / Alternate Universe - Modern Setting / Texting / Vomiting / Not at the same time / Winter / gender neutral reader / i dont know how to make tea / mentions of sanrio / mentions of bagged milk / slight angst? i guess? if you squint? / reiner texts like a boomer and im sorry / POV First Person / Present Tense

i live in a special part of canada so excuse the bagged milk. (just kidding bagged is better)

reader is gn! if anything seems off please lmk. (do that if the text names are confusing too!)

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Bzzz.

The darkness and warm comfort of sleep cracks as my eyes peel open to the vibration of my phone. My blurry wall is bathed in orange light and the cold draft coming in from the open window carries the swoons and trills of birdsong. Pretty…

Holy shit I have class I’ll be late—

With effort, I blink until the shapes around me become clean and defined. Am I late? Sunlight on the ruffles of my quilt like a Renaissance painting. Coats and bags hanging from the hooks on the back of my bedroom door. Clothes from the night before, still on the ground from when I dropped them there, dead-tired. My phone buzzes again, causing an internal jolt that spurs me to snatch it off the nightstand and expel the charger in one swift movement.

mr. handsome: emergency alert! 🚨 alert! god-level threat!

mr. handsome: One image attachment

Oh, it’s a message from Connie.

Oh, it’s 8:19 AM.

Oh, it’s a Sunday.

The glowing numbers on the screen indicate the next minute and I toss the phone somewhere on the bed before re-curling myself into my nice warm quilt in this nice cool morning. Sorry, Connie, the grocery run to 7-11 for more sushi will have to be done by someone else. This is probably the happiest I’ll be all day, provided I stay sleepy enough not to feel guilty for doing nothing. The world goes black.

Bzzz.

This time, my eyes peel open on their own.

Fine, Connie, you win.

Trying to ignore the bitter taste of morning in my mouth, I grope for my phone and lift it above my head.

sashacado: BAHAHAH GOOD LUCK WITH THAT ONE BALDY

Another message pops up.

mr. handsome (replying to @/sashacado): 🖕

mikachu: you need to get out of there, connie. like rn.

lainah: Run while you still can! LOL! 🤣

Although the last text pains me on a metaphysical scale, I open up the groupchat. It’s getting fishy now: first of all, Connie’s never up this early, least of all on a weekend; secondly, he said ‘god level threat’ (which is apparently the worst level of threat), and third, Mikasa rarely speaks in the groupchat. Sure, she lurks, but she only ever emerges when something big is happening.

Some more people are active now and I have to scroll up to find Connie’s image.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Blurry and off-centre as the picture might be, it clearly depicts the ugliest green-and-white striped couch I ever laid my eyes on (“It’s an antique!” Connie had argued) that belongs to Connie and Jean’s shared dorm in which the latter of the two is curled up in (yet he still scrapes the armrests with the top of his head and toes). Littering the stained carpet around him — they prefer eating on the couch than on an actual table, so spills are inevitable — are wads of crumpled-up tissues. To really top it off is the Cars blanket that Jean won at a festival that’s seemingly in the process of being violently torn from his form, clinging to the armrest closest to the camera and pulling beyond. A message banner pops down from the top of the screen.

jean: i’m fine. and give me my fucking blanket back. i can hear you giggling from your bedroom. connie.

grammar police: connie give his blanket back

lainah: Haha!

grammar police: i swear things like this only happen when I’m gone

Right, Marco usually goes home for the weekends.

ymi: Lmfao that thing prolly gave you a disease in the first place

ymi: Have u even washed it once

mr. handsome: cut the ccrap Ymir we wash it more than you wash ur hair

sashacado: LMAOOO

ymi: At least I have hair

sashacado: AGAHAHH CONNIE

grammar police: you guys

grammar police: missing the point here

mr. handsome (replying to @/ymi): and its sad cuz mine is still better than youres

mr. handsome: like girl tf is up with the shaved sides

mr handsome: jojo siwa looking ass

sashacado: LMAOOOOO CONNIE EAT HER UP

Smiling, I return to the main chat screen.

ymi: Count your fucking days springer

ymi: At least I still have a girl

grammar police (replying to @/mr. handsome): ^yours

mr. handsome: ok nerd

grammar police: I’m taking away your Netflix

mr. handsome: I sincerely apoligize for my words.

grammar police: it’s the effort I guess

grammar police: back to Jean though

jean: i told u im prrfectly fine. just give ne back my blanket i’ll sleep it off

grammar police: do I need to come back to campus for the weekend?

mikachu: im stopping by the store. can grab some medicine

jean: ffs IM FINE GIVE ME MY BLANKET CONNIE OR IM TELLING THEM ABOUT THE GRATER THING

grammar police: Jean you need some medicine at least. I heard there’s a nasty flu going around and you’d be the type of person to catch it

grammar police: did you call your mom? I can call her if you want

jean: IM

jean: FINE

jean (replying to @/grammar police): DO NOT DO THAT

Poor Jean. He doesn’t have anyone to take care of him. Connie’s a mild germaphobe, believe it or not, at least when it comes to sickness (he nearly went crazy during Covid) and is probably keeping a safe distance from his roommate. And it’s not like any of his other friends are willing (or able) to help out, with Marco out of town. He doesn’t have any siblings here; the closest relative he has might be his mother all the way back in Trost. Not even a significant other.

Well. I mean.

There’s me.

But we’re technically not dating. Not yet. We’re still trying to figure things out — hell, I don’t even know if he likes me back.

Well, okay, there was that time we kissed. But it’s just a kiss. And it was an end-of the year party, and everyone was feeling it. And it’s January now and we haven’t done it again so it’s nothing. It’s nothing!

But that doesn’t stop the guilt from gnawing at my foundations like a tiny, evil beaver.

Wow. So you’re willing to let a guy suffer just because you’re unsure? Now that’s selfish. While you’re sitting here muttering to yourself he’s probably burning with fever and wishing he were dead. Real classy.

Shut the fuck up, beaver. It’s weird to just barge into someone’s house like that. And we don’t know each other that well.

You’ve known each other for a long time. He’s sick. At least take care of him. You don’t need to be his lover or whatever. Just be a good friend, huh?

I guess…

And you know Connie, too, don’t you? You’ll be doing him a big favour by getting this plaguefest out of his living room. He needs to finish off Breaking Bad so he can look at the memes without being spoiled. You’re not helping dear old Connie out, either.

Fuck, you do have a point.

Besides, everyone knows what happened between you and Jean at the Christmas party. They’re probably waiting on you to—

With great effort I manage to unfocus my eyes to see if anyone mentioned me but Connie and Jean have devolved into another stupid somewhat one-sided argument. So they aren’t saying anything outright. But they’re probably thinking it.

They’re definitely thinking it.

Okay, that’s enough from you.

I swipe off the groupchat to see all of my chats and open up my DM with Jean — right near the top — and start typing.

me: hey. sorry if this is weird, but i wanted to check on you bc ur really sick apparently

No, that won’t do. I purge the message.

me: hey fuckass. did you go out without a coat again? do i need to come and take care of

No, not that, either. Hopefully he isn’t looking at our messages or else he’d see me typing like an idiot. I tap the side of my phone as I think, stringing together ideas and words and different ways he could perceive me based on how I put them together.

I go back to the main groupchat.

me: @/jean @/mr. handsome im coming over. be there in 15

me: also @/mikachu could you pick up some lozenges and cough syrup? ty i’ll pay u back <3

I zone out at the screen until someone starts typing and throw the phone down on the bed again before scanning the ground for something wearable. Goodbye, sweet air and Renaissance scene and birdsong. After assembling myself and brushing my teeth, I check the mirror attached to the back of the shared bathroom door that Sasha decorated with some Sanrio stickers from Amazon. She had a phase.

Matching socks, jeans, campus sweatshirt, T-shirt underneath big enough to splay out underneath like a fan. Hair a mess. Face a mess. Good enough. It’s not like Jean will look much better. It’s not like I care that much about how I look around him.

I pull the door aside and collect my belongings — phone, bag, coat — before whisking through the door, full sail for Connie’s res building. I hit the stairwell running.

Do I know how to take care of sick people? I mean, more or less. It’ll be fine. All you have to do is feed them and make sure they don’t puke all over themselves. Right?

On the way I stop by one of the cafeteria atriums, one of the smaller ones I frequent for its souped-up coffee counter with every additive known to man. I scan the containers on the counter — milk, cream, nutmeg — until I find the packets of honey and shove one into my bag while trying not to look guilty to the few people that dot the room. I more than paid for it just by attending.

Now on the main floor by the parking lot, I struggle to untangle my keys from the mess in my bag and, without looking, push the unlock for my car. It beeps faithfully in the same place I left it and I hurry to the sound like a moth to flame.

It’s a smallish car that’s starting to rust near the top. I open the drivers’ door and toss my bag in the passenger seat before throwing myself in and shutting the door, shutting out the world, disturbing the rubber Kuromi keychain hanging from the rearview mirror. My breath comes out steamy. The car comes to life on the third try — best to let it warm up a bit before I go.

Inhale, exhale. I open up the groupchat.

jean: you will do no such thing

jean: @/me

mr. handsome: so THATS what it takes for u to finally visit

mr. handsome: ive been keeping it nice and clean just for u 😙

mr. handsome: until mr covid came and ruined it

mikachu (replying to @/me): dw about it babes xx

sashacado: mika get me chocolate

mikachu: maybe. driving

Mikasa and I, weirdly enough, were the first to get our full licenses. A smile pulls at my face and I duck down to look at my lap. Jean had nearly begged us to give him driving lessons, and of course, I agreed. Days of close calls, driving under the speed limit, getting honked at, constantly checking the mirrors, nearly rear-ending people at stop signs, elbows touching on the armrest…

Of course, now Jean can drive without a hitch. Maybe not good enough yet that I’d sleep while he does it, but that’s a personal thing.

I almost put my phone down before noticing I have a few more private messages.

jean: seriously you dont have to come. im fine

jean: its acc not a big deal

jean: i had colds like this before. im not ur responsibility

Something about that last line stings. I guess he’s right, technically. We’re not that close. Who am I kidding?

But I already announced to the world what I’m going to do. And I already decided on it.

me: im coming whether you like it or not. watch connie for me

When I can’t see my breath anymore I start driving.

Stohess is a big campus. And while I’m not a huge fan of carbon emissions, I’m also not a fan of 20-minute walks in blistering, dry cold (or wet cold, for that matter). Also, I don’t want to keep Jean waiting. The eco society is going to kill me.

I pull in to the all-too-familiar parking spot, the one Jean pulled into a hundred times in preparation for his driving test in his new, expensive car his parents bought him because “he was doing so good with his driving!”

He’d thanked me profusely for helping him out, which, in hindsight, was mildly out of character for a broody, arrogant guy like him.

But then again, so was kissing me at that party. Not so much the kissing part. Just the me part. And the gentle-tight way he held me, the way he looked into my eyes…

I suck in a sharp breath. But I’m doing this as a friend. Not because of whatever we might be. If Connie was the one who got sick, I’d be here, too.

Steeling my nerves, I take my bag with an iron grip and make for the dorm.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

The door is already open when I arrive, propped open by a deflated volleyball. Weird. Some music that sounds like it was taken straight from Fast and Furious plays from inside. Knowing Connie, it probably is.

Nothing stirs when I open the door, but it is a pretty quiet door. The living room is right in front of me, ugly antique couch and all, but it’s completely empty. I didn’t walk into the wrong room, did I?

“Connie? Jean?” I slip off my shoes — Connie is insistent (I think shoes in the house is a crime anyway) — and creep through the dorm. “You guys?“

My voice rings through. Nothing. Peals of dread condense in my stomach and I pick up the pace, nearly barreling to a stop in front of the bathroom. I knock; first on the bathroom, then Jean’s bedroom. Connie left his door open.

“Jean? You in there?”

No response.

“I’m gonna— I’m opening the door, okay?”

And without time to think about what might be on the other side, I twist the knob and push.

Nothing. I even look behind the shower curtains.

Who even closes an empty bathroom?

Next is Jean’s room, but it’s also empty.

Where the hell are they?

I check my phone again and text the group chat.

me: @/mr. handsome @/jean where are you guys?

Waiting…

lainah: Gym

What.

me: are you sure.

lainah: One image attachment

Sure enough.

I should have noticed when his parking spot was empty.

me: dont let them leave. omw now

Sasha starts typing something but I throw my phone in the bag. I should have known they’d pull some bullshit like this. Well, not they. He. Something blistering and boiling threatens to spill over within me, but I take a deep breath. I’ll deal with him when I get there.

Jean’s a smart man, but not when he’s being stubborn.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

The car ride, despite being short, gave me a chance to cool my nerves.

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. I grip the steering wheel in front of the gym. It’s fine. And step out.

Anytime Fitness is a strange and marvellous place full of people you might not see anywhere else. I don’t care about them. I scan the machines and see Reiner on the treadmill, and he meets my eyes a moment after. He nods in a different direction and I follow his gaze until I see the unmistakable bronze and shaved hair combination. I mouth a thank you and he smiles.

I must look completely out of place here, weaving between sweaty and half-naked bodies in my coat and jeans like I have a demon on my tail until I’m standing behind the chest press.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Connie’s saying and by the way Jean grunts it’s definitely not the first time.

“Let it go. I’m fine, and I’m going to the gym like I always do.” Jean’s voice is thick and nasal. “Buzz off.”

“Look, I already left the house with you. I can’t let you die here.”

“I said I’m fine—”

At the end of Jean’s rep, I slip the pin out of the weights. Jean nearly lunges over as the heaviness suddenly decreases.

Both look at me.

Connie looks normal. Jean is already slick with sweat, hair askew, red-nosed, with a slight wheeze lining his breath as he sits on the edge of the seat. Not normal. Not fine.

“Jean. My car. Now.” I point at Connie. “You take his back.”

A slight smile cracks his visage and that’s all I see before whipping around like an army man and making my way out.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

There’s a lot of things I could be saying, but I don’t, because there’s too much. So we drive home in silence.

Now that we’re closer, I can really hear the struggle with Jean’s every breath, the occasional cough, the mucous-laced sniffs, as much as he might try to hide it. He just sits there, going on his phone, staring out the window, until:

“Pull over.”

And his eyes are closed, head tilted up, pained look on his sweat drenched-face. I move to the side of the door without question and he scrabbles for the handle — I unlock it for him — before opening the door and half-falling over as he pukes.

I pinch my lip between my teeth and look the other way as the smell hits right after. Fine my ass.

Ever since I was young, the sound of heaving has always unsettled me. Even fake gags. Like it flips a switch in my heart to induce a sudden thrill of terror as if someone horror-movie screamed. And yeah, it’s just throwing up, but I hate it.

My heart races as he unloads again and I just want to plug my ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t sit here.

When the coast is clear I hop out and walk around the back. Jean is squatting on the pavement right before it hits the grass where his vomit lays, poking up through the stiff shoots. Though we’re outside, the smell is even worse. I try not to look at it as I hand Jean a bottle of water and set a stack of napkins I filched from Wendy’s on the passenger seat beside him.

“Thank—” he manages to croak out before pitching over again.

He’s been growing out his hair. I guess I didn’t notice it before, but now it’s long enough to get in his face in this position.

I gather the strands in my hands — soft as that day before the turn of the year — and hold them on the crown of his head as he retches.

When he’s done, I consider rolling down the windows, but decide against it.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Jean hardly notices when I pull in (again). Weirdly enough, his car still isn’t here — either Connie drives like a grandpa or he’s gone off somewhere.

“Jean.”

He inhales through his mouth, sucking up the new, pukey scent of my car, and opens his door with half-lidded eyes, leaning hard. It bumps against the campus van I’m parked beside and I cringe. Parked too close. He’s in no state to stand up on his own, let alone walk.

“Let me help you.”

He grunts in something like disagreement and I shut my door on him, going around the back again. Soiled napkins are shoved into the door storage and the water bottle is half-empty and crushed on the floor. Well. I offer a hand and after some hesitation he takes it, clasping my shoulder, and when I help him stand the added weight nearly crushes me. Jean is big, maybe not muscular like Reiner, but tall. Even through my coat and his too-thin sweater he radiates heat and he grunts a sickly air into my ear as he finds his footing. There’s barely enough room for the both of us between the car and the van so I shuffle us sideways, around the other side of the car and to the front. I gently lower Jean so he leans against the hood.

“Wait here.”

He doesn’t object as I shut the passenger door and lock the car before going back and offering my shoulder once again and I nearly fall over once again and we huddle together into the building. He’s never this quiet. Never so agreeable. Never so willing to take the help that’s offered to him.

This is a side of Jean I’ve never seen before. A side that I surely was never meant to see.

I swallow thickly and shuffle our bodies forward so I can push the button for the elevator. His head bumps against mine as it droops but he quickly straightens. “Sorry. Sorry.” His voice is gravelly and small, so small, as if it came from another person entirely.

I stare at the side of his face, but he’s focussed on something far away. “You’re okay, Jean.”

The elevator dings open and we go in. Seventh floor button. The door rolls shut.

Beep. Our knees buckle as the elevator accelerates and the screen above the button panel indicates that it’s going up. It usually smells of antiseptic unless it’s been raining.

Beep. The elevator’s always been slow which is why most people take the stairs instead. Connie calls it the ‘hellevator’ because he swears it almost dropped him once.

Beep. Jean’s trying to steady himself; hold himself up.

Beep. We haven’t been this close together since the party.

Beep. Jean takes an unusually large, wheezy breath and holds it. “Sorry.” His voice is hardly a rumble against my side.

“Why are you sorry?” I ask, quietly.

Beep. “For making you do this.”

Beep. The door retracts and muffled hip-hop fills the air. We walk off the hellevator and stand in front of the dorm. 704. An opaque plastic bag hangs off the handle and I take it in the same hand I hold my bag — thanks, Mikasa.

“You have your key?”

Jean grumbles and taps his pockets, pulling out a key ring. A rubber charm — Badtz-Maru, the little angry penguin — hangs from the ring. Sasha gave all of us one in her Sanrio phase. Keroppi for Connie, Charmy for Mikasa, Pompompurin for Marco, Cinamaroll for Eren, Kuromi for me. I (was forced to) help her choose.

The key retracts and Jean uses his free arm to turn the handle and shoulder the door open. He clears — tries to clear — the phlegm in his throat. “Alexa,” he gurgles. “Alexa, stop.”

The music immediately ceases and we stumble to the couch where Jean unceremoniously drops and tucks his head between the armrest and cushioned back, looking utterly uncomfortable.

“Get up, Jean.”

He sniffs.

“Come on. Bed.” I drop my bags on the coffee table. “Not couch.”

“No.”

“Connie will throw a fit. And so will I.”

“Just—” he tries clearing his throat again— “go.”

“I’m not leaving until you get better.” I blink. No, I’m not leaving him here alone. Why does that surprise me?

“I’m fine. I told you. Done it before. I’ll get better.”

“Done it before?” I giggle falsely. “What, you used to rawdogging colds all by yourself?”

A car passes outside, a familiar rising and falling sound against the unfamiliar silence of the dorm.

“Jean?”

“Go…”

And I swear he’s never sounded so… vulnerable before. Like he’s laid out all his organs on a big table and I’m holding the scalpel. Just waiting for the incision.

A little softer, I tell him, “I’m not going anywhere, Jean.”

And I take the goodie bag and head for the simple kitchen — that is, an inlaid fridge, stove, and pantry cramped behind an island counter with a sink. I hold the electric kettle Reiner got for Jean’s and Connie’s fifth anniversary (he thought they were together at first) under the sink and let it fill to two cups just in case before setting it back and switching it on.

Then I rummage through the drawers and cupboards until I find an old, strangely moist box of tea packets. Yuzu mist or Cheerful Citrus? I opt for the latter.

Tearing open the package, I glance at Jean who still hasn’t moved. The teabag I dump into a printed mug that Jean likes to use.

NUMBER 1 COUGAR

I wonder where he got that.

The kettle clicks off when the water boils and I fill the mug. Oh. Honey would be good. I return to the couch and sift through my bag, shifting my keys in the process. Now Jean stirs.

“Are you leaving?”

“No, Jean.”

I keep rummaging. I know it’s in there. Might be in deep, but—

“Please don’t.”

I pause, emotions — affection? concern? — swirling like particles of tea in water. “Okay, Jean.”

I finish making the tea in silence with an almost-empty bag of milk left in the fridge. How do these boys even survive? All that’s in there are cold cuts and a bag of only bread butts, among some other, strange things. Including a pair of boxers.

“Can you sit up?”

Jean sighs into the cushion and braces against the armrest to push himself into somewhat of a sitting position.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

His eyes cast down. I swallow the silence that suddenly envelops us. Nothing weird. Just a room. I’m just a caretaker. “Come on, Jean.”

“Can— can you help me?”

I fall into the little divot in the couch where Jean sits and let him wrap an arm around my shoulder. “Ready?” I say. “One, two…”

We stumble up and pass through the already-ajar door to Jean’s bedroom and I nearly stop to take a better look. He has blackout curtains, currently drawn, painting the room in a dark blue light except for a thin bar of sunlight from between the curtains that propagates as a glowing line on the carpet. The walls are plastered in posters, sketches, paintings, sketches. Half-finished drawings on his desk and swivel chair and a few on the ground. A small compartment shoved into one corner with every art supply imaginable.

Still taking in the view, I (we) back into the bed, butt-first, and Jean unwraps himself from me.

“You won’t… do anything weird… to me?”

I smile. Conversational, that’s good. “Not unless you want me to.” And I wish I had shut up before the first word even came out of my stupid mouth. Standing, I look over my shoulder. “I’m getting the medicine.”

“Wait. Don’t.”

Under the doorframe now, I pause. “I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back.” And I go to the goodie bag.

I should just work on keeping my mouth shut. Mikasa had picked out some ibuprofen, NyQuil, and lozenges. Pills should be good. I take the mug and the box and head back.

When I get back Jean’s sitting against the headboard, trying to uncrumple his blanket to get underneath.

“Let me help.”

He watches me then, helpless — Jean fucking Kirschtein, helpless! — as I set down the pills and mug on his glass nightstand and unfold the mess he’s got on the mattress. “Pull your legs up.”

He obeys. I pull the quilt over him.

I try not to stare. “You can put your legs down now.”

He obeys.

“Sit up, Jean. You need more pillows.”

Eyes glued to me, he leans forward so I can take his other pillow to prop him up more comfortably, leaning back when I touch his warm shoulder. Then I take the mug and offer it to him. “Drink some of this.”

Painfully quiet, he takes the mug with both hands and takes a tentative sip, lips curling around the brim of the ceramic to slurp up the soothing drink. He’s doing good. Until he hits a bump and starts sputtering.

Immediately I take the drink as he coughs up whatever went down the wrong way. When he’s done I realize I’ve been rubbing circles into his back so I take my hand off.

My phone buzzes in the living room. Shit.

“I’ll be back.”

Jean stares at his knees under the blanket and doesn’t move when I come back.

sashacado: omg yall

sashacado: theyre gonma be killed💯

armong us: What’s going on?

sashacado: @/lainah what did u do

lainah: One video attachment

sashacado: ONG LMFAOOO

sashacado pinned a message

mr. handsome: @/me im headed to urs with sash for a while. hope thats cool w you and all lmk if u need anything

jägermeister: are u fr leaving those two alone

mr. handsome: well good morning to u too pricness

Deleted message

jägermeister: oh right

sashacado: connor springer delete that message rn @/mr. handsome

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

mr. handsome: ok ok jfc im sorry

sashacado: @/mr. handsome

sashacado: ok good

Whatever the hell they’re up to now.

Jean thrashes slowly and I feel a little guilty for staring down at my phone the whole time. “Are you okay?” I breathe, sticking to his beside like a magnet. “Are you in pain?”

“Hot,” is all he says.

I peel the blanket off. He is hot. Really hot.

Not like that. He’s feverish.

“Can you… help me?”

“Yeah?” I stare at him — help with what? — until he raises his arms over his head.

Oh. A few circuits in my head switch off. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m can help.” Idiot.

Like touching something radioactive I grasp the edge of his sweater and slowly raise it, catching the shirt underneath for a fleeting second before it falls back down. Deep breath. Yes, I am helping out a guy I’m dating-not-dating who I’m definitely not attracted to to take off his clothes in his bedroom in his empty dorm. Because he’s sick. No problem. Because I’m a good friend.

The neckline catches on his jaw and I unhook it, delicately trailing the scruff on his jaw in the process.

And it’s off and on the ground. Holy shit. Jean’s been sweating. And I know all that dampness on his shirt, clinging feebly to his attractive sick form, didn’t come from his 10 minutes at the gym.

He doesn’t lower his arms. Oh, so we’re doing it like this.

Okay.

I come forward again, within earshot to the rattling in Jean’s chest with his every breath, and quite literally peel the thin white shirt off. This time it’s impossible not to touch his incredibly warm and damp body, not to scrape my nails against the softness of his skin, from his waist to his broad shoulders all the way down his arms. Now he puts them down.

I almost forget he still smells like puke.

“My pants…”

Ohoho. No way, buster. You’re on your own. I’m calling Connie. Nooo way.

“Okay, but unbuckle yourself.”

He does without question, fumbling first with his belt, which I help slide off, and then his jeans.

What in the ever-loving fuck am I doing? This sounds like a smut setup. No. I’m just a friend helping out a sick friend, two friends who have never done anything even slightly romantic together.

“Sit up on the edge, okay?”

He heaves his sweaty self to the edge of the bed, palms leaving wet marks on the sheets, and, staring at the ceiling, I grasp at the hem of his pants (skirting his boxers or whatever he’s wearing because I’m not looking) and pull them (he lifts himself at first to help) all the way down. In one smooth movement I turn back around.

“Put your shirt over your… yourself.”

I wait a good few heartbeats before turning back around and lo and behold, he’s done as told. Frankly, it looks even worse now, like he’s lying in bed completely naked with just a shirt covering him. (But that’s only true if I think it’s true!) The jeans I’m still clutching for some reason I deposit on a chair.

“Jean, I’ll be right back, okay?” I wait for a response I should know isn’t coming before going out again, this time in search for a facecloth. Which I do find, shoved in the corner of the linen cabinet. I should be grateful they even have some, but then again, it might’ve been another gift from Reiner they didn’t have the heart to throw away. I rinse it under some cool water and announce my re-entry.

“I’m back. Sit still.” Folding some of the damp cloth over two fingers, I carefully dab at the sweat on his forehead. No, I need to… I pick off some strands of his sandy hair from his face, holding his hair back against his scalp, and try again. Better. “Jean?”

He opens his eyes halfway, and they raise lazily to meet mine. He’s sweaty everywhere and too late I catch myself stroking his head. I wipe his cheek next.

“Drink some tea, okay? I need you to take a pill.”

“Pillk?”

“Yes,” I say encouragingly, like training a puppy. Neck next. “Just a pill.”

He takes in a deep mouth breath. There’s a portrait stuck to the ground on the other side of his bed.

Is that…

“I can’t.”

My eyes snap back and I pause, dabbing at his collarbone. “What’s that?”

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows as if the action took too much effort. “Can’t… swallow. Can’t swallow pills.”

I blink. “You can’t take pills?”

A fleeting smile meets his lips. “Vitamin gummies. Not. Vitamin pills. Might get stuck in m’throat.”

I fold up the cloth into a rectangle and smooth it out onto his forehead. “Just take some tea with it.”

“Tried. No.”

Who knew? For a guy with such a big mouth, he sure has a small esophagus.

“Jean, it’ll make you feel better.”

“No.”

I pop open the box and break open the tinfoil seal to take out a single pill.

“Noo…”

“Jean, you’ll be fine. You’re a big boy now.” And I vow never to speak again.

When I push the little oval against his mouth, I find it won’t open. Jean is breathing laboriously through his 90 percent clogged nostrils.

“Open up.”

He purses his lips, further preventing entry, and I swear he’s smiling a little.

“Very funny. Take your pill. You’re gonna suffocate yourself.”

Still nothing. I pinch his nose. He makes a muffled noise but otherwise doesn’t react.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. At thirty-three I let go. “Are you really willing to kill yourself over a pill?”

“Don’t want. Don’t need.”

“Yeah, and I ‘don’t need’ you choking over your own puke in your sleep.”

“No…”

“Jean.” I feel terrible already for doing it like this. “Try. If you don’t at least try, I’ll leave.”

I bite my lip, awaiting his response. I really shouldn’t have said that. I’m such an asshole. Fuck.

“Okay.”

Deep breath. I push the pill against his bottom lip and the soft tissue yields against my fingers for a moment before he opens. The mug is to his lips not a moment after; he gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing, and the tea in his mouth suddenly explodes out and sprays warmly all over my face.

All. Over.

I peel my eyes open after impact. Jean looks more awake than he did before, and with a discernible expression, too: terror.

Okay. Good!

Slowly, he reaches for the sweat-soaked cloth on his head and offers it to me. I shake my head.

“Be right back.”

Bathroom. Cold water. Cold water against my face. There’s two razors on the sink and the edges of the white surface have some hairs on them. Face hairs, I’m sure. I pray.

If whatever Jean has is contagious, I sure as hell have it now.

I turn the tap off and swipe the water from my face. Great. Okay. I bunch up my now-wet sweater. I can do this.

I re-enter the bedroom. Jean sits up a little straighter now, sipping in small increments. “Sorry.”

I put my sweater on the chair. “It’s okay.”

“I— really—”

“Jean, it’s okay.”

“I’m fine. I’ll get better.” Which is about the most complete sentence he’s said in a while.

“I told you I’m not going anywhere, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t say anything. Almost unconsciously, I gravitate to his bed.

“You already did too much for me.”

“Nonsense.”

“Why do… you do this?”

Now that gets me thinking. Because you’re sick. Because I’m a good friend. Because you’re my guinea pig for Hospitality 101. Maybe all three.

My eyes trace back to the scribbled portrait on the other side of Jean’s bed and I take the cloth from his forehead.

Thousands upon thousands of excuses, and a singular truth.

“Because I like you.”

And I take my time going back to the bathroom.

Cold water. Cold water against my hands.

“Coming in.”

“It wasn’t nothing.” Jean clears his throat, almost inaudible against my beating heart. “Back at the party. Wasn’t… nothing.”

“Wasn’t all that much, either,” I say dryly. Hopefully he doesn’t notice how shaky my hands are. How shaky against his pallid skin.

Jean inhales and I can see the movement through his chest. “No. Wasn’t a lot.” He tilts his head up at a minuscule angle to scan my face, and maybe it’s the perspective, or the weird lighting, but I could swear he’s never looked at me like this before.

Except for that time.

“So I’d…” he swallows. “Like— like to have more.”

For a few seconds, it’s silent. For a few seconds, all that there is are his dim eyes and mine. For a few seconds, we fall into each other and tread water, sinking, fading…

I break our gaze and tremblingly pluck a tissue from a box on the ground; hold it to his nose. “Blow.”

He takes a shaky breath and obeys.

Fold. “Again.”

He shuts his eyes and blows.

“Again.”

He blows until his air gives out. I drop the spent tissue.

“Again?”

He shakes his head.

“Let’s try the pill.”

He nods and stares as I open the foil for a second time and pop the new one in my mouth.

He watches, confused, until a wave of realization seems to hit him.

He stays statue-still as I lean in, put a hand on the headboard on either side of his head.

His heat, like a barrier, raises the hairs on my skin. He cups my jaw. I cradle the side of his neck, and his pulse beats at a million miles a minute. The pill begins to dissolve.

Our mouths barely touch, and I make the final connection.

Jean is tall. Jean is arrogant. Jean will laugh at you when you fall.

But Jean has the softest lips, the sweetest mouth (even when he puked out a buffet no more than half an hour ago). Jean will melt like soft butter under your touch. Jean will accept your tongue, no questions asked, and retaliate with twice the vengeance.

Like I’ve been dreaming of since that brief moment at the party, I let my hand run insouciant through his hair. No eyes watching. No social boundary.

He gasps softly for air and I do the same, pulling his scalp so he tilts to meet me better with a small grunt. God, I fucking love his hair.

Now both of his iron-hot hands are on me, hooking under my shirt, running up and down, claiming every square inch, and I let mine fall from his neck down to his slick chest down to his stomach down to his abs. Other still planted firmly in his hair, pulling, twirling, pulling, and when I tug again Jean squeezes so hard, doubling down, suddenly hungry, suddenly a starving man. Wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me closer, I oblige, hooking a leg onto his bed, between his knees, and my thigh brushes against his still-damp T-shirt, and he groans softly into my mouth—

and swallows with an ulp!

and it’s over.

I stroke his throat as the pill goes down and he stares hollowly at me until it’s gone. I recline and smile.

“Is that enough for you?”

Unblinking, he pulls me down again.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

Connie kicks the asphalt with his definitely real Gucci slides. “Are you done?”

“Shh!”

He shoots his friend a withering look — that is, as withering of a look that he can muster.

“This is creepy. And I’m cold. Can we at least—”

Sasha puts down her binoculars and shows him what a real killer glare is. He rolls his eyes and scans his phone. Eren’s sent a message to the matchmaker groupchat.

emo king🖤⛓️: are u sure this plan of urs worked out

emo king🖤⛓️: excuse me if this is harsh, but it’s probably the dumbest shit of ur dumbshit ideas

me: yeah try telling Sash that

sharmin ultra soft: Eren’s right. Chances are Jean puked and turned everyone off

intimidating woman: i think there’s a chance

emo king🖤⛓️: are u fr in on this mikasa

sashami: you guys shh the star coming

Sasha shoots him another look before putting her non-stalker scope away in preparation for the star of the day’s arrival.

“Whad’d I do?”

As far as he knows, Connie is doing everything right. He’d told everyone that he was sleeping over at Sasha’s. (Her idea.) And now it’s Monday, and it’s time for the star’s (code name) first class (and also Sasha’s), and now they’re sitting out in the cold like a couple of dumbasses watching the stairwell windows. (Also her idea.) What the heck?

“I’m going in the car,” Connie grumbles. He doesn’t wait for the inevitable retort and climbs in to the drivers’ seat.

The car. The one silver lining to this whole ordeal. He’d eaten, put his feet up in, and used up every last drop of gas on this baby and Jean couldn’t do a damned thing about it.

But the person coming through the door isn’t their star. It’s Jean. Huh?

Connie pops out of the vehicle and joins up with Sasha.

“Oh— you’re here, too?” Jean’s brow furrows deeper. “What’s going on?”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Connie grins. “Looks like you‘re doing a lot better.”

“No thanks to you lot.”

“Where are you going?” Sasha pipes in, and he knows what’s coming next. She’s using her interviewer voice.

“Just… going to class.” Jean smacks Connie’s shoulder. “Keys?”

He produces them with a flourish and a jangle and the taller takes them, unlocking the car.

Beep beep!

Sasha casually tails him, twisting around to block the driver’s side door.

“Sash.”

“Were you a good host?”

“I mean, I was really sick.”

“You have actual, proper food, right? Did you feed your dear caretaker?”

“Uh…” he smirks. “Yeah.”

“Is your room clean?”

“It’s fine!”

“Did you sleep together?”

He rolls his eyes and wedges a hand between his car and the girl. “Okay, get out.”

“Answer my question!” Sasha cries as she stumbles back and Jean hops in. Without another word, the car backs out. Jean turns and comes forward so he’s perpendicular to the parking spot before lowering his window.

“Connie! You owe me 20!” And then he’s gone.

Dumbfounded, the boy looks to Sasha, finding her staring at her phone. “What’s wrong? You on your period?”

“Oh, fuck off. Look.”

star: sorry sash,, not coming to hospitality. i got sick :(

star: jeans staying home for me tho. dont wait up <3

And the mastermind screenshots the fruits of her labour.

⋅ ⋆ ─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────── ⋅ ⋆

would you look at that. more kissing. *throws tomato* i did 80% of this in one day. no regrets!! (said eren.) (ill shut the fuck up now) i hope you enjoyed! it actually turned out a lot less gross than i originally planned (they were gonna do it with the nyquil ewwwww) but this is fine. right? i never actually kept a pill on my tongue like that for so long so for my sanity's sake let's pretend this is how it all works.

this started out as a oneshot. however,,, i decided to add more parts to it because i'm a sucker. check it out if you like! <3

byebye

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masterlist part 2 - low tide

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

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mythica0 · 3 months ago

Text

Levity

🎂: Epic the musical

🧁: Odysseus

🍫: Hermes

Summary: Hermes decides to cause a little mischief in the most fun way he knows how.

A/N: FUCK IT IM WRITING FOR EPIC. I am obsessed with Hermes and also very lee for him. Like there is a primal need within me to be wrecked by this man. This was very fueled by my lee mood and said desire to be wrecked by Hermes. (I basically just wrote what I wanted but happening to Odysseus haha) Hope yall enjoy this very self indulgent thing I wrote! :D

Cw for some pretty intense tickles

(P.S don’t question how Hermes does stuff it’s God Magic)

Levity

Hermes was bored. He had nothing to do, and he wasn’t the type to just sit around. No, he wanted to cause chaos. He wanted to spread mischief and jokes and make someone laugh or groan or smile, or even better, all of the above.

He decided to target his great grandson, and also his friend, Odysseus.

Ody had been on a journey after the Trojan war to get home, it’s been a month or so, and they were still just sailing. Hermes decided that the captain could use a little levity, a break from the monotony of daily life.

So he flew over to the ship and snuck on, heading towards the captains quarters.

Odysseus was working on some sort of Nondescript Work. Sitting at his desk with a quill in hand.

It wasn’t fun, but it was necessary. He stayed up late into the night, gazing out at the moon and ocean outside.

He started to feel as though he was being watched. He gazed around the room, but after not seeing anything he brushed it off.

Meanwhile, Hermes was snuck in the corner and ready to begin to cause some trouble. He started by slowly and steadily raising the.. ahem.. sensitivities… of the captain.

At first it wasn’t noticeable, after all nothing was actively tickling him, so how would he know he was getting increasingly ticklish with each passing second?

But then- the motion of his clothes against his skin felt tingly. And then the air blowing past his neck made him want to scrunch up.

Eventually it got to a point where any sort of motion at all made him giggle, and at this point he knew something, or rather, someone was messing with him.

“Alrihihight who’s doing that.” He did his best not to move to much, as every motion sent waves of ticklishness through him.

Hermes flew out, showing himself.

“Hey there, Odysseus!” He giggled, smiling tauntingly.

“Ohof course it’s you, Hermes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And whatever is that supposed to mean?”

“You like to cause trouble. This seheems on brand for you. Now can you please return me to normal? I’d appreciate being able to move without laughing.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Well, I mean, I can, I just don’t want to.”

Odysseus groaned.

“In fact, I think I’m going to take advantage of this~”

“What does that mean- HermeHEEHES!” He was cut off by his own laughter as the god flew over to him, scratching gently at his ribs.

Odysseus immediately knew this was going to suck. Hermes was barely touching him and yet he was already incapacitated by the sensation. It was so much stronger than it would’ve been normally.

“Hehermehehes cuhuhut ihit ohohout!”

“No way! This is so much fun! Dont you agree~?”

“Absohoholuhuhutely nohoHOT.” He lied between loud fits of laughter. It was so BAD and he was barely touching him! His increased sensitivity was extremely apparent, his nerves lighting up and firing rapidly at the smallest touch. But despite that- it was kinda.. fun? He couldn’t understand why, but the unbelievably ticklish feelings plaguing his nervous system felt good. It felt nice to just let go and laugh his head off, unable to do anything to stop it.

“I don’t think that’s the truth~ you seem to be having a good time to me~.”

“NohohoHo IHIM NOHOT- EEHEEHAAHA” peals of laughter echoed from him as he tried to protest, even though he didn’t really mean it.

Hermes moved up, starting to tickle the underarms of the king. This was a much worse spot for him, and his laughter became louder. He couldn’t breathe, but yet it felt so nice. He was giddy with the feeling, pounding his fists on his desk to try and expel some of the happy, ticklish energy building up within him.

“Tickle tickle tickle~ aren’t you such a ticklish little thing~ yes you are, yes you are!” Hermes teased, giggling with him.

Odysseus blushed furiously, and covered his face, but was unable to form words through his laughter. Hermes saw that he was struggling to breathe, so he lowered his ticklishness back down. Not fully to its normal levels, but enough so that he could get a good breath in.

“HErmehehehes plehehehease stohohop! I cahahant Tahahake ihihit!” Tears of joy had formed in his eyes, and he was struggling to not let them fall.

“Aww, don’t say that, I believe in you! And you better hope I’m right~, cause I don’t plan on stopping aaaanytime soon~” the trickster moved his hands to Odysseus’ tummy, squeezing gently.

“Uhughh, yohohoure a jeheherk!”

Hermes scoffed in mock offense. “Uh! You have the audacity to call a god a jerk? I come in here to provide some levity and I get called a jerk?! I cannot let that slide.”

“Yohou cahame hehere fohor ehentertahainmehent ahand yohou knohow ihit!”

“Yeah, I did. I also came here because I wanted to see some laughter, is that such a crime? And your sass is unwarranted. I’m turning your sensitivity back up-“

“Whahahait dohohont- ihihim sohorhorry!” The phrase ended in a squealing laugh as Hermes made good on his promise, turning his ticklishness up extremely.

“Are you actually sorry or are you just saying that so I’ll stop? Cause I have a feeling it’s the second one. And that’s fine- it just means I’ll have to tickle and tickle and tickle until you mean it! Doesn’t that sound like fun~”

Any protests the captain tried to make were consumed by his booming laughter, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. His nerves were on fire in the best way, every bone in his body telling him to laugh. He felt as though the tickling sensation was at his very core, going deep into his body and mind.

Floods of dopamine hit his systems, overwhelmed by the tickles. He couldn’t stop laughing, he couldn’t stop smiling, and as much as he hated to admit it, it felt amazing. It was unbearable in such a good way, shocking his nerves over and over with light, bubbly, happy feelings. Tears had long since fallen, the overwhelming happiness and laughter forming as droplets.

All the while Hermes kept teasing, his lilting voice so flustering. Hermes was also having the time of his life, seeing someone who was usually so sad and stoic broken down into heavy fits of laughter, wide smile splitting his face.

Just then the playful god had an idea for a game, he stopped for a moment, allowing Odysseus to catch his breath.

The laughter died down into smaller giggles, perpetuated by the phantom sensations left behind.

“Hey, Odysseus~ how about we play a game, hmm~?”

“Oho gohoodnehess.. hehermes plehehease, I cahahant!”

“All you have to do is laugh~ and you’re already doing great! All I’m going to do is harvest some of the delicious laughter that’s all over this farmland~” he taunted, scooping up Odysseus and plopping him on his bed on his back, and then straddling him.

“Whahahahat? EHeehAHa!” His laughter increased in intensity once more as Hermes began to pinch at his sides and ribs.

“There’s some little laughs here~ gotta get those.” He spoke playfully.

Odysseus was slightly confused, but he couldn’t bother to wonder about it, his brain turned to mush. Laughter and giggles still echoed from him.

“Ope, this one’s being a little stubborn~” Hermes lilted, pinching repeatedly at a spot he’d found was particularly bad.

“Hermehehehes, plehehehease stohohohop!”

“Nah, I’m not done yet~ don’t worry~ I’ll stop once you really need me too.” As a god who loved to tickle others(I mean, he might as well be the god of tickling too at this point.) he had a knack for knowing when someone truly couldn’t take anymore, and Odysseus had not yet reached that point. He still seemed to be enjoying himself, no true panic behind his eyes.

“Hey, there’s a really big laugh here! Let me get it!” He acted as though he was an excited farmer, harvesting his crops. But it mostly wasn’t pretend, he was, in fact, excited to be doing this. Happy to spread laughter and joy, and a little bit of chaos along the way. He dug into Odysseus belly, with the exact pressure to make it agonizingly ticklish.

Odysseus was dying, (figuratively, of course) it tickled so much, and he couldn’t do anything about it! He felt as though he was at the gates of tickle heaven, joyful tears streaming from his eyes from the force of his laughter. It was a great workout, that’s for sure, with his stomach and face sore from the effort but in a way that was sort of pleasent.

“Man, it’s just not coming out! Maybe I should try eating it right from the vine, hmm~” he knew what that meant, and he was full of a giddy anticipation, waiting for the moment that Hermes would-

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of a raspberry right in the center of his tummy, followed by gentle nibbles. Odysseus was weak with laughter, pounding his fist on the bed below him and kicking his feet.

“Om nom nom nom! Wow! This laugh is really tasty! Let me find some more!”

He continued the game, pinching and digging at various points across Odysseus’ torso, occasionally nibbling and blowing raspberries, sometimes many in rapid succession.

All of Odysseus’ thoughts were taken up by the tickles. All that he could think of was how badly it tickled, how badly it made him want - no need- to laugh. He was reduced to nothing but a massive puddle of laughter.

Eventually, Hermes noticed Odysseus was done, and hopped off him, lowering his ticklishness back to normal.

Odysseus continued to giggle, breathing heavily in between the fits.

“Ohoho myhyhy gohoodnehess…. Thahat wahas soho bahad…. Hehehehaha.”

“How ya feeling~ happy?”

Odysseus was too giggle high to think of anything but the truth. “Ye..Yeahah. Ahand tihired..”

“Oh, good~ glad to have brought some joy. How about you get some sleep, hmm? You definitely need it after that.”

“Thahat… sounds lihike a good idea.” Odysseus agreed.

“Glad you had fun, Ody~” Hermes teased, honest with the words. As he turned to leave, he heard one last sleepy, giggly phrase.

“Thahank yohou Hermehes… I needed thahat.”

The god smiled fondly. “No problem, it was a blast for me too.” And then he flew off, leaving a dazed, sleepy and giggle high Odysseus behind.

———THE END————————————————

#sfw tickle community #parrotwrites #epic the musical tickles #ler!hermes #lee!odyssues

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