#by adding some consequences to deal with but nah if you fail to do something that storyline just ends there

[bragganhyl]

ngl I'm starting to feel like I'm more attached to Berci the cringefail farmer than I ever did when he was my Tav whoops

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt. 8)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: OOOOH THINGS ARE STARTING TO GET INTERESTING. Now that we’ve set this up, expect each chapter to be VERY yandere. I know it’s been pretty chill for like half of the series, but not anymore! I’m really excited to write the later chapters, cause I think the twists are gonna be pretty good lol. Anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy the new part!

A huge thanks to @yanderart for beta reading this part <3. Also, ty to @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart (again lol), @shorkbrian and @sawamooora for helping me brainstorm. I suck at writing smut big time and you guys rlly helped me flesh everything out. Love y’all <3

*Sidenote*: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist!

5.6k words

Warnings: Dubcon, threesome, dumbification, recreational use of drugs and alcohol, coercion, gaslighting, implied stalking, ambiguous implied themes

“I think this calls for some drinks, whaddya say princess?”

Hizashi was already rising from his spot on the couch before you could answer. Making his way into the kitchen, he quickly disappeared from your line of sight to fix up whatever concoction of alcohol he sought fit.

Much to your appreciation, neither of the two heroes had pressured you just yet into discussing your agreement from a mere few days ago. Thursday morning had passed by in a blur, and to nobody’s surprise, you continued with business as usual.

And what seemed to be a recurring factor in your life as of late―luck was never quite on your side.

You made it out of the work week by the skin of your teeth. Between a surplus of particularly unruly customers, and the burden of your own conscience, catching a break was an unobtainable reprieve. Anyone in their right mind would’ve looked at you and told you to stay home. To cancel your dinner date with Shouta and Hizashi, and promptly treat yourself to some much needed slumber. But you were everything but in your right mind as of late.

Not a moment went by where you didn’t question yourself. Part of you alarmed in the need for rest, the other wanting to keep going. Unsure of whether you were just overreacting, or if the voice in the back of your head telling you to run and never look back from the two actually had some sense to it.

You went with the former. Which was why you were back in their quaint little home, nestled amongst the bustling city. And in the observant nature you’d been subjected to time and time again, they both immediately picked up on the fact that you were worse for wear. After a dinner that was as appetizing as any other meal they’d made for you, the three of you holed up in the living room.

It turns out they had a pretty long week too. With hero work, teaching, and―what they just had to bring up―making sure you were doing alright, they were thoroughly beat. Almost as much as you.

Hizashi returned, towing three drinks in his hands. What looked like two beers, one for him and one for Shouta―and a colourful, bright looking mixture of god knows what for yourself.

The glass was cold in your hands, a chill offsetting the warmth brought on by both the fireplace and the heat in your cheeks, quickly rising after Hizashi handed off your drink to you with a wink.

The blond was about to retake his seat, until he paused, setting his beer on the coffee table. “Hold on―I actually brought a lil’ somethin’ extra.” The chipper man dug into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small ziplock baggie. The package was a gunmetal grey, with some indiscernible label on the front. Letters too small, and you too far away to see what they read.

“Now, somethin’ tells me you’re probably a newbie to this kinda stuff, but don’t worry ‘bout it!” Hizashi strided closer to you as he spoke, opening up the package with nimble fingers.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, ‘Zashi.” Shouta sounded unamused, but the small smirk forming on his face told a different story.

“Nah, this’ll be good for her! Take the edge off and all that shit, yeah?”

You looked at the baggie curiously, eyebrows knitted as he fished around inside of it. “...What is it, exactly?”

The blond revealed a small gummy between his fingers, holding it out to you. “Edibles. Go on.”

He gestured for you to take the candy from him, and not really knowing what else to do with his insistence, you did. Hizashi retrieved another from the bag, popping it into his mouth. He held the grey package out to Shouta, but he shook his head, a dismissive sigh escaping his lips.

Hesitantly, you stared at the gummy in your hand. “I, uh...I’m not really sure about this. It’s just that―”

“You’ll be fine.” This time it was Shouta to push you, despite having just been more unfavouring of the topic.

You regarded the man worriedly. However, much unlike before, something new had overtaken his expression. Anticipation, expectancy―it was hard to place. But it told you one thing.

Something had changed his mind, and whatever it was, it was enticing enough for him to disregard the possibility of you reacting badly to the edible, and your concerns over the substance in general.

Clearly, he caught on to your apprehension. And, unfortunately for you, his demands were always so much harder to defy than his partner’s. Not that you did much of defying either these days. Still, as of now it was easier to comply than face the consequences of their incessant convincing.

“Think of it as making up for lying to us. You get to relax a little, and we’ll put you back in our good books.”

“Not that you ever left! But ya did hurt us with that, so it’s the least you could do. Right, sweetheart?” Hizashi grabbed his beer from the coffee table, before taking a seat next to you on the couch. Lazily, he threw an arm across the back of it, you tensing slightly at how it was close enough to be resting on your shoulders.

You knew it wasn’t the best idea. But maybe, just maybe, this small piece of laced candy would be what got you through the night. You should still be able to keep your wits about you, but if this meant getting them off your case? Then so be it. Frankly, being trapped in your mind of stressed thoughts was something you sought to escape all the time. This was a decent opportunity to do just that.

Copying Hizashi, perhaps just a little less enthusiastically, you indulged them in seeing you down the gummy. It left a strange aftertaste, so you washed it down with the brightly coloured drink you’d been neglecting this whole time.

Much to your dismay, that didn’t taste any better.

You resolved to leave the drink be, not wanting to deal with the issues that might come out of mixing  the two inhibitors. The two of them didn’t really care, as soon enough you all fell back into line, talking about whatever first came to mind.

Times like these honestly made you resentful. How you wished that the two heroes weren’t so suffocatingly bothered about your wellbeing. If they weren’t, maybe you could have nights like these more often. They took up so much time policing your actions―checking up on you, hammering in their agenda, hovering. It was time that could be spent just being your friend.

A normal, no obligations relationship was what you wanted with them. Not the reality of you being their little pet project. Trying to change your long standing ways for the ‘better.’ Genuinely, you enjoyed these moments of reprieve. Where for even just a short while, you could all just look past the reasons as to why you were in their home. Just mindless conversation. Entertaining, engaging―normal.

It wasn’t your fault that they had to go ahead and ruin it.

...

Or maybe it was. You could’ve said no. Tonight, or when they first roped you into their lives.

It didn’t really matter now.

_____

The concept of time was...difficult to grasp.

You didn’t know when Shouta had taken up residence right next to you, so close the two of you were touching. Whatever they were saying, you liked it. You were giggling, almost spilling your mostly untouched drink. The condensation on the glass was dripping down your hand, a chill that you didn’t even notice. After a particularly amusing jab at who knows what, you nearly let the contents of the liquid slush out over the rim.

Hizashi laughed at your sedated carelessness, “Woah there, songbird. Lemme take that from you before ya stain the couch, yeah?”

“Clumsy little thing, isn’t she?” The deep baritone of Shouta’s voice next to you sends automatic shivers up and down your spine, muscles tightening for a split second.

By now, you had no clue how much either of them had to drink. Or if they even drank at all. Combing your hazy memory, you couldn’t quite place a moment where you caught them doing anything other than chatting away. Shouta’s beer was still on the side table next to where he was sitting. As for Hizashi’s, well―it was too much effort to crane your neck to see where it lay.

The blond faced you again, “She’s such a cutie like this―all buzzed out. You feelin good there?”

A crooked, goofy looking smile was spread across your lips. “Mhmm…” The drifting response matched your expression, light and pleased.

“What are we gonna do with her?” Shouta, speaking through his actions, and very uncharacteristically, wrapped sturdy arms around your waist. Blissfully dazed, you only let out light and bashful laughs as the man pulled you into his lap. Your legs hung off the side of his toned thighs, while he kept an arm around your waist, the other squeezing your plush hip.

Inhibitions having left you about five minutes ago, you failed to see the predatory glint in Hizashi’s eyes. He moved closer to the both of you, “Oh, I can think of plenty of things we can do…” His hand ran up the length of your thigh―exposed, given how you chose to wear a dress this Saturday.

Lazily, your gaze trailed his movements. Slow, teasingly, letting you feel with anticipation as it crept higher, and higher.

“Eyes on me, kitten.”

Another hand―Shouta’s―lightly gripped your chin. Turning your head, or more like him turning your head, your focus met his darkened one. “...Such little tease, you are.”

Something distant, uncompleted, clicked in the back of your mind. You tried grasping at it, straining to get a hold on whatever that thought was trying to tell you. “I...what do you m―”

So much for that thought.

Shouta’s lips collided with yours, ending any coherent understanding that was developing in that swift movement. His hand, once cupping your face, switched to firmly cradle the back of your head.

Whatever remained of your common sense had you weakly attempting to pull away. But it was no use, when Shouta held you in place, the force of your feeble resistance not bothering him in the slightest. If anything, he found it cute.

How hard you tried to fight them, even now.

His lips moved against yours, the day old scruff tickling your skin. That small sensation pierced your fogged thoughts, intaking a sharp breath of air through your nose. While you focused on that, you barely noticed the blond’s wandering hands.

At least, not until they found their destination. You let out a drawn out moan as Hizashi pressed two fingers against your clothed mound. Your legs would’ve shut, but he had already settled in between them, kneeling over you with a satisfied look.

An amused grin spread across his face as you unconsciously ground yourself into his fingers while he rubbed you through the soft material of your thin panties. “Ohhh, yeah. She’s feeling good all right.”

You should’ve stayed home.

Shouta detached himself from your lips, and Hizashi was quick to take his place. With his free hand, he’d done like his partner and turned you to face him.

While he wasn’t as graceful, you didn’t really have a mind to care. Not when it was overwhelmed with the suffocating closeness of the two men.

You should’ve left once they offered you a drink, or the edible.

The erasure hero peppered small kisses down your neck, stopping only to speak. “Bet we could make her feel even better…” The seductive tone of his voice, spoken low into your ear shot straight to your core, feeling butterflies at his words.

You shouldn't have let your guard down.

Gasping in response, Shouta nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and working to leave a mark in his wake. His partner took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. Even in your disoriented state, the sensation of a piercing was a stark contrast in comparison to everything else Hizashi was making you feel.

Too fixated on that, you once again failed to keep track of what was going on around you. It was more like you simply felt it, absorbed the way it was making your body react, without much of a care for the circumstances.

A common occurrence, nowadays.

And it didn’t matter what you should’ve done anymore. It wasn’t going to stop the inevitable.

Shouta’s calloused hands squeezed your hips, kneading them and relishing in your softness. Always the direct one, he grasped the hem of your dress. The hero smiled against your neck, pleased with how compliant Hizashi’s little treat had made you.

If only you could be like this all the time.

As his partner’s fingers continued their ministrations, not being nearly enough to help you seek release, Shouta lifted up your dress.

Catching on soon enough, Hizashi parted from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“Let’s get you outta this, huh pretty girl?”

The dots didn’t connect. You didn’t know why things felt just the slightest bit off, only that the familiar and nagging hint of doubt was currently fighting tooth and nail to keep its place at the back of your mind.

You didn’t respond. But they didn’t really care.

Hizashi held your arms up as Shouta peeled your dress off. The flimsy article was quickly discarded on the floor, landing somewhere out of sight. Not really comprehending whether you regretted the actions that led you here now, you let yourself get caught up in their movements, the air of room hitting your exposed breasts.

The blond noted with a low whistle at the fact that you’d neglected to wear a bra, too transfixed at the moment to deduce why.

You knew why, distantly―everything felt distant right now.

While Shouta resumed littering your neck with open mouthed kisses, his partner got to work on making a mess of your front. You couldn’t tell which hands belonged to whom, only that they were on your body. Groping, kneading, taking in how much more delicate you were compared to them.

A fragile little thing.

...How did they hold out this long?

A small yelp escaped you as one of them pinched your hardening nipple, making you squirm fruitlessly in their grasp.

Shouta chuckled at your reaction, “That was a cute noise, kitten. Why don’t you make some more for us?”

The voice hero was slowly leaving marks down your chest, along the curves of your breasts. “Yeah, you can do that for us, right?”

Punctuating his words, his mouth enveloped your pebbled nipple, swirling his piercing tongue around it. His other hand was still steadily rubbing circles into your clothed pussy. You mewled at the sensation, mind still trying to make right from wrong.

“I...I don’t…don’t think this....”

Small tears of frustration threatened to well. You wanted so bad to know where this incessant feeling was coming from. Why it was lingering.

Shouta was quick to shut those worried thoughts down though. “Shhh...just let us take care of you.”

Hizashi’s voice sounded strained―needy. “Fuck, Shou’. I can’t hold back any longer…”

His partner, being the only person in the room with a clear mind, paused before replying. Ever the hard-headed one, now technically shouldn’t be any different. But, with the way you were moving on his lap, unconsciously grinding against him...maybe his head wasn’t as clear as he thought.

...

“I’m not stopping you.”

The look of pure relief at the erasure hero’s words was instant. Because really, the only reason he hadn’t fucked you senseless yet was because Shouta was doing everything in his power to control him. They needed to wait until you were ready, even if it meant giving you something to make you a bit more open to the idea.

Deft fingers looped under the hem of your panties, Hizashi’s eyes glistening at the thin string of arousal on the fabric as he pulled them away from your core. He quickly dragged them down your legs and discarding them in a similar fashion as your dress.

Maneuvering you so that your back was to Shouta’s chest, the erasure hero spread your legs, holding them apart by draping them off either sides of his own. The blond dropped to his knees on the floor in front of you both, taking in the way your folds glistened with the flickering light of the fireplace.

But before he could make a move, Shouta spoke up.

“Wait, maybe we should take this to the bedr―”

“Fuck that.”

Without uttering another word on the subject, Hizashi buried his face in between your legs. Unable to restrain yourself, you cried out as his tongue slid up your heat, the piercing deliciously adding pressure to your clit.

Shouta laughed a bit at your reaction, letting you mindlessly throw your head back on his shoulder. His hands came to grope your breasts, sighing in satisfaction at their soft give against his fingers. “You’ve been holding out on us, kitten. You’re lucky we’re going easy on you right now.”

His counterpart hummed in agreement, sending pleasurable waves of warmth throughout you. His tongue continued circling your clit, noting all the things that made you squirm and whine in response, using them to work you over even more.

Unable to recognize the true meaning to his words, you simply let your body succumb to their ministrations. Your mouth hung open, small noises leaving you in your blissed out state, body completely bare while they were still fully clothed.

You were under a lethal combination of sedating exhaustion from the week, coupled with the ingredients in the gummy Hizashi was ever so quick to offer. It left you pliant, melting into their hold.

You felt good. Really good.

Hizashi’s right hand drifted up, fingers coating themselves in your dripping essence. You writhed as they dipped into your folds, toying with your puffy clit. He replaced them with his tongue once again, letting them tease at your entrance.

The lust filled side of you bucked your hips against him, urging the voice hero to fill you up with his slender fingers.

“Someone’s a little needy.” You ignored the condescending tone coating Shouta’s words, distracted with the way the blond’s fingers refused your insistence.

“I...please…” You didn’t really know what it was you were begging for. Just that you needed him to do something, anything. If it meant he’d stop teasing you.

“I got ya, pretty girl. Just relax now.” Putting you out of your misery, a long and nimble finger pushed past your entrance. The digit skilfully curled inside of you, repeating the action with each thrust.

Desperate for something to hold on to, you gripped the arm that Shouta had wrapped around your waist, keeping you pinned firmly against him. A precaution, of course. They weren’t going to have you backing out of this now. Not after you’d let yourself go so much, and they finally had the chance to prove how good they could be to you.

The stretch of Hizashi adding a second finger felt incredible, but even more so was when they hit that sensitive bundle of nerves with pinpointed accuracy. You jolted from the sensation, toes curling as he targeted the spot while simultaneously keeping his mouth busy in ways that sent your mind reeling.

He pulled away for a moment, enjoying the sight above him as you squirmed in Shouta’s hold. “That your sweet spot, baby?” Putting emphasis on his words, he began delivering even harder thrusts, going back to repeatedly flick at your clit with his tongue.

“You take his fingers so well, don’t you kitten?”

You could feel the coil beginning to tighten, a sedating warmth spreading across your body. If you were facing Shouta, you would be able to see the devious smirk stretched across his lips.

The man was growing impatient―for once in his life when it came to you. But, could you really blame him? Here you were, splayed out across his lap and oh so vulnerable. So cute, so fucked out of your mind.

It was time to move things along, if only so he could get a taste.

His free hand weaved itself into the long and loose blond locks cascading down Hizashi’s shoulders. The man in question gave an inquisitive look, before quickly being cut off. Shouta yanked the man forward by his hair, causing him to press even harder into your sensitive cunt. He groaned as the pain shot through his scalp, the vibrations of his voice, semi-quirk activated, shooting through your core.

That was enough for you. The buildup of heat, how your body felt like it was melting under their touch―in an instant it was amplified tenfold. Your eyebrows furrowed, muscles tensing as you came around Hizashi’s fingers, and on his tongue―both of which were still relentlessly stimulating you through your high. Even when you finally calmed down, the blond continued to greedily lap at your juices, causing you to shake and whine as you were still far too sensitive.

Shouta, a hand still gripping his partner's hair, pulled Hizashi away from you since he realized that clearly he would just keep going if he didn’t intervene.

Your whole being feeling more ragdoll like now, if that was even possible, gave way easily to their hurried repositioning. Having nearly passed out from that alone, the scene unfolding around you went right over your head. Clothes being torn off, belts hastily undone, two very painfully hard men trapping you in between them.

At some point, one of them had put you on your hands and knees on the couch. Well, it was more like you had your ass raised in the air, while you tiredly slumped against the soft cushions. However, the feeling of something running up and down your folds managed to stave off that threatening exhaustion.

“Don’t go passing out on us just yet, kitten.” The gravelly voice came from behind you, letting you know that it was Shouta who was gripping your hip with one hand, the other guiding his cock to your sopping entrance.

Which meant, the pretty and pierced cock in front of you must belong to Hizashi.

“Open up for me, songbird.”

Through semi-wet lashes, you peered up at the voice hero who was towering over you. The hand that wasn’t pumping his length gripped your jaw. And, with a little pressure, he forced your mouth open.

You just needed a little encouragement, is all.

He let out a strangled moan as he pushed his way past your wetted lips, nearly cumming right then and there at how warm you felt around him.

Shouta wasn’t doing much better in the area of self restraint, using his partner’s distraction to sheath himself inside your pussy. His want for control wore thin as your walls fluttered around him, deliciously sucking him in inch by inch.

Both of the men were on cloud nine, finally getting a taste of how you really felt. Those moments of consoling weren’t always innocent, touches yearning to go further. And now that they’d gone to those lengths, now that they were going through those long desired motions, the two realized you were so much better than they could’ve ever imagined.

You moaned around Hizashi’s cock as his partner bottomed out inside of you. His length filled you up in ways neither yours or the blond’s fingers could. Even when he pulled out and thrusted back into your heat, he’d already managed to hit that perfect angle.

Both going at their own pace, your body rocked back and forth as the men took advantage of your delirious state. You couldn’t exactly call it abusing your holes―they weren’t being that rough. But Shouta’s cock was stretching your walls just a bit more than you were prepared for. And Hizashi was slowly forgetting with each passing second that he couldn’t just force his whole length down your throat.

Actually, maybe they were overestimating your limits.

Could you blame them, though? Seeing you day after day, doing their best to not scare you away as they held back the near uncontrollable urge to just take what they wanted. Having to watch you let yourself get run down, when they could’ve been taking care of you.

Why did you have to put up such a fight?

Shouta didn’t think he'd agree with Hizashi when he suggested offering you the edible. Oh, how glad he was for letting him do so now. Because he had to admit, seeing you bent over, deepthroating the blond while he got a nice view of you from behind―it was worth the wait, and the hint of shame that came from inducing you to accept them in such a way.

His tired eyes were lost on the way you took the both of them, shamelessly moaning against Hizashi, hips unconsciously rocking back against him to garner some more stimulation. It was only when the voice hero pulled you off of his pierced cock, the sounds of you gasping for breath meeting his ears, did Shouta break out of that trance.

“Hey...ya think I’d fit in there too?”

The blond was referring to your already decently stuffed cunt, dripping with arousal that was running down your thighs.

Shouta’s lips quirked into a slight smirk.

“...We can make it fit.”

You didn’t quite know what to think. Your mind felt...strange. Weighed down―by exhaustion, some indiscernible veil, but also the need to feel more.

The two helped you sit up, Shouta’s length still fully inside of you. Hizashi eagerly positioned himself in front of you, hands wandering across your body, searching for purchase to ground him.

You did the same to him, mindlessly throwing your arms around his neck, nails digging into his back as the tip of his cock teasingly nudged your clit.

Hizashi laughed a little at your fucked out face, drool seeping from your mouth and running down your chin. His thumb wiped away some stray falling tears, before giving your cheeks a few gentle pats. He found your blissed expression, albeit a lot more intense than he’d seen before, a familiar and amusing thing. “I’ll never get sick of seein’ ya like this, songbird.”

The meaning to his words went directly over your head. Must not have been that important, right?

Unable to really register what was going on, just that suddenly, you felt much more full than you had been a second ago, your brows scrunched in...discomfort?

It didn’t really feel bad, it was just a lot to handle.

Hizashi’s head fell onto your shoulder as he slowly let you sink down on his cock. He let out a hiss, feeling your walls clamp down around him, impossibly and deliciously tight. The small noises that escaped your lips as his piercings dragged against your sensitive spot nearly made them both abandon caution that second.

But they would never hurt you, not unless it was necessary. They wanted to take care of you―even if you were too out of it to realize.

The seconds ticking by as you adjusted to them felt like hours in their book. Finally, after what could’ve been an eternity, Hizashi bottomed out inside of you. The blond relished in the way your nails threatened to break the skin of his shoulders and back as they began thrusting in and out of you, your cunt welcoming them in.

No coherent words could form in your mind, reduced to nothing more than a dumbed down puddle of pleasure. You couldn’t care less about the lewd wet and slapping noises, or how you were quite literally a ragdoll in their arms. Not when the only constant on your mind was how you felt good. Better than you had in a long time. It wasn’t a feeling of safeness, but still, it wasn’t something you wanted to get away from. For now, at least.

Both of the heroes could tell how well your body was reacting to them―by the way your head lolled back against Shouta’s broad frame, or how whimpers and cries of ecstasy spilled from your parted lips.

“...Is our kitten enjoying herself?”

You didn’t respond. Not with words, at least.

Hizashi responded properly for you. “Look at her pretty little face, ‘course she is. Y’know...I could get used to this―what about you, Shou’?”

Arms tangled amongst each other, the two held you upright as they rutted against you. Much like yourself, the pleasure they felt was greatly dulcifying their inhibitions.

You probably wouldn’t remember anything they had to say, though.

The erasure hero grinned at that thought―having you like this for them all the time. Something to look forward to after a long day. The sight of you, safe in their home, waiting for their return. Ready for them to spoil you in every which way possible. Just like you deserved.

“...You saying we should speed things up?”

Now that idea, it gave Hizashi purpose. He was aching to swoop you up―had been for a long time. His hips pistoned in and out of you faster, harder than before.

The blond grasped your jaw in one hand, forcing you to look at him. “Bet you would like that, pretty girl.” With a particularly sharp thrust of his hips, you cried out as he thoughtlessly spoke to you. “Bet you want us doting on ya all day...fucking you ‘till ya can’t walk―that’s what you want, right?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, the task of forming a response, one that held your truth, being absolutely impossible. You didn’t know what they wanted, and all you craved was to give them a reply to keep them doing whatever it was they were.

“...I..y-yes?”

Wrong answer.

The both of them moved with a new sense of vigour, leaving you clawing at anything you could get your hands on in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“Hear that, Shou’? Our baby’s askin’ for us to take care of her.”

The erasure hero gripped your hips in an iron like hold, sure to leave tender bruises the next day. “Can’t say no to that, now can we?”

The warmth pooling in your belly was growing more intense with each passing second, leaving you to writhe in their grasp, not really knowing how to handle yourself. Every little thing they said, whether to you, or just about you didn’t exactly register. As their speed picked up, the heroes nearing their release just as fast as you, Shouta weaved a hand in between yours and the blond’s body.

You jolted at the feeling of two of his fingers pressing tight circles into your puffy clit, still being jostled as their movements quickened. The two men groaned as your walls clamped down around them, the sounds that met your ears going straight to your core.

“You gonna cum for us, baby?”

Hizashi’s hand, still on your jaw, moved to the back of your head. He held it so that you didn’t merely lay limp against Shouta’s shoulder, propped in his grasp so that he could see your dazed and lust filled expression. You could only nod in response, his question somehow permeating through the thick fog settled over your rational thoughts.

Picking up on the small acknowledgement to Hizashi’s words, Shouta’s ministrations focused on bringing you to release. His fingers never ceased in aimedly toying with your clit, spurred on by the way you reacted so well to them.

The white hot pressure building inside of you was reaching its crescendo. Where one of them left your heat, the other was there to fill you right back up, constantly crashing against your bundle of nerves. That familiar and intense sensation washed over your body as you reached your second peak of the night, convulsing in their arms, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Your walls fluttering around their lengths, somehow making it even tighter, a reaction deliciously consuming to the two. Truly better than their imaginations could’ve conceived, the feeling of you coming undone caused them to tumble over the edge of their release as well.

Shouta’s head dipped, face buried in the junction between your neck and collarbones. He grunted into the skin covered in a sheen of sweat, painting your walls white while you continued to tremble in their embrace. Hizashi’s grip on the back of your head tightened, pulling on your hair and making you wince as a sharp pain shot across your scalp. Ropes of cum coated your insides, mixing with the already existing seed, now spilling down your thighs and dripping onto the couch.

All three of you were heaving with acute exhaustion, you maybe slightly more. Coming down from your high, the adrenaline that had just spiked was leaving your body, taking nearly all of your energy with it.

You slumped against their bodies, falling against Shouta while Hizashi still cradled the back of your head. It felt as if lead was weighing down your whole being, threatening to pull you into a deep slumber. And, seeing as you couldn’t find the reason to fight it given your mentally reduced state, you let it.

Your eyelids fluttered, shutting with relief as fatigue enveloped you, drowning you in its sedation.

But someone’s voice, you couldn’t place who’s, ripped you from the respite of sleep. The message igniting that strange, unidentifiable nagging of worry. Yet, it faded as soon as it came, overshadowed by the insatiable movements returning in the two men.

“...We’re not done with you yet.”

(End of part 8)

_____

Taglist: @roseloverofpastels @shinsous-eye-bags @tjhonoluluprezstitch626 @pekusofixus @riathearora @glitterypinkkitty @elektraeriseros @hadesnewpersephone @axolotleyeliner @idratherliveinbooks @silver-stardrop @niko-su993 @olivia-grace26 @shigsteranddabstersimp @hawks96@pink-dodo-writes @amishahosein24 @keilemlucent @stargazingaloneatnight @thelilmisskaydesi @morganseeksindependence-blog @teabutnerdy @patchworkpiper

If you’re name was crossed out it’s because I couldn’t tag you!

[ashenburst]

Let It Happen

Fugo x Reader, fluff, 3861 words. Y’all aren’t in a relationship, but you might get into one after the events of this oneshot <3

Purple Haze has a special role here!

A new mission landed in Buccellati's hands. A retaliation ought to be carried out. That alone was a peculiar request, for Buccellati's team wasn't meant for these tasks – but since a higher-up commanded so, no reluctance would be shown. You and Fugo were chosen to do the dirty deed.

This selection was odd too, in your opinion at least. Despite being in the group for a month or so, you picked up on many patterns in their dynamics. When it came to missions, for example, Fugo participated by far the least. Buccellati avoided sending him for some reason. You assumed that his stand simply wasn't adequate.

Thinking more about it, you concluded that it truly was unusual. That and the fact that, out of all team members, you grew to be the closest to him, and yet did not know anything about his ability.

You had the opportunity to ask, but chose not to. You were no nosy type, and you wouldn't pry in case someone didn't wish to speak. You realized right at the beginning that these abilities wouldn't be easily shared with you, for you were new. The general distrust taught you not to snoop, and you were fine with that.

Fugo evidently had no desire to bring up his stand, so why rile him up? It wasn't even that important. Someday, you would find out its power, the same way you chatted to the Pistols and observed Aerosmith's pirouettes.

Understanding and patient as you were, this slow, mannered approach of yours earned immediate approval among your teammates. You recognized your boundaries and never overstepped them, thus remaining on everyone's good side. Even Abbacchio took a quick liking to you. And according to Fugo, that was extraordinary.

Things would reveal themselves on their own, in the right place and time, you reckoned. Upon being assigned your mission, this mindset was awarded. You glanced over to Fugo, knowing you'd soon get to see his stand in action.

"If it's no problem, Buccellati, I just have to finish correcting Narancia's assignments, then we can go," he explained to the team leader. Buccellati nodded in agreement.

"Make sure you're quick."

"Absolutely! Looks like Narancia has been improving, so this will be fast. In fact, he hasn't made a single mistake."

Narancia was sitting next to Fugo with a massive grin, staring at the many check marks and not a single cross on the paper.

"Not a single mistake, you say?" Mista repeated.

"Not a single mistake indeed," Fugo confirmed, vastly proud. This only made Mista laugh.

"Should I tell him?" Mista turned towards Abbacchio, and the white-haired male chuckled. They exchanged mischievous looks. You knew nothing good would come out of this, and so your brows knitted together in worry. Looking back to Narancia and Fugo, you noticed the once grinning boy had a slightly panicked expression. Just what was happening...?

"Tell me what?" Fugo too was beginning to get wary.

"Nothing!" Narancia abruptly responded instead of Mista. He couldn't have made himself more suspicious, you thought, squinting your eyes. You were absolutely certain he was hiding something and he was hiding it from Pannacotta Fugo. Did Narancia value his life that low?

You truly didn't want to see your dear friend vexed all over again, simply because of that boy's silly scheme. So you watched carefully, trying to dismantle this mess in your head before it would be too late.

The gunslinger laughed again, this time with a hand over his mouth. The fact even Abbacchio couldn't keep his amusement to himself, and instead smiled profusely, was enough of an omen.

"Boys, what are you hiding?" Buccellati's question was supposed to bring out some clarity in this situation. However, it failed to, for nobody wanted to speak up.

Fugo skewed the topic a little. "I have no idea what's happening, but I should announce that Narancia hadn't made a single mistake. Good job!"

"Hehe. Easy peasy lemon squeezy," Narancia responded to that.

"Gimme a high five, Narancia," Mista suggested and bent over the table, his hand in the air for Narancia to... not high five it. He shook his head no in awkward refusal.

"Why not?" Mista faked his sadness. "Come on, a little high five. Low five? Any five?"

Narancia grimaced. You rolled your eyes and offered your insight. "Is it that hard to lift your hand and high five Mista? Look." You did it instead of Narancia, which caused Mista a radiant grin. Despite this, the black-haired boy refused. Your doubts were fueled in abundance.

"Is there a reason why you don't want to show your hands?"

Narancia stuck out a tongue at you and lifted his left hand. "Nah. And is there a reason why Fugo and you are being late for the mission?" Oh dear, he was getting too defensive, which you noted with a blank face.

"Narancia!" Fugo scolded. He tried to reach out to the boy's right hand, but Narancia moved it away.

"Narancia, behave yourself immediately and stop this nonsense," Buccellati silenced him. He looked at you, then Fugo. "And you two aren't being late. I believe I know what's behind this farce, so there's no need to ruin yet another table to find out." The leader glared at Narancia and Fugo who were both in uncomfortable positions.

"It's evident, Buccellati. He's been cheating and wrote the answers on his hand," Fugo hissed, letting go of Narancia's biceps. The boy winced.

"On his fingers, to be exact," Abbacchio added nonchalantly.

"Oh fuck off," Narancia grumpily cursed and crossed his arms. Buccellati told you and Fugo to leave, and that he would deal with this problem himself. He tossed you the car keys with a chilling look. It was eerie, you had to admit. But you were glad you didn't get to witness Buccellati's anger, and thus were left with something just a tiny bit better: an annoyed Fugo.

Consequently, the mission began in silence. The two of you exited Libeccio with little to no information available. You knew the location of only one of your targets, and through that one man, you were supposed to find other people behind this conspiracy against the Famiglia. This was a job for your stand, obviously – you would pinpoint and track any target once it's marked. However, it had no destructive power, because it was literally a pair of binoculars. What could you do with them, hit someone in the head?

That was where you supposed Fugo's stand would step in. Something deadly for sure, to kill off everyone in this group. If what Buccellati had heard was correct, they had a meeting later that day, meaning all of them would be gathered on one spot. Convenient for killing.

You reached the car Buccellati was kind enough to borrow. You unlocked it and were about to enter, when you felt Fugo's hold on your hand. "I can drive," he offered.

"Are you sure?" Being the newest member meant you had the honor of driving others every single time, and you were used to that obligation. Seeing that Fugo could do that instead of you was... a surprise, simply put.

Although you asked such a meaningless question, Fugo found a reason to be annoyed. The violets of his eyes turned a shade darker. "I wouldn't be offering that if I weren't sure."

Sure, having a literal hedgehog of a person by your side wasn't too pleasant. But he was surprisingly easy to read. At the slightest signs of his irritation coming, you would make sure to avoid any future provocations. It wasn't a hard thing to do, not at all.

Fugo had good intentions and if his problems with rage were overlooked, you knew he would be an absolute angel. This time, similarly, he was trying to help. It was something you could only appreciate. So you nodded and responded, as calm as you could get, "Then thank you for being a gentleman. That's very nice of you."

Internally, you weren't as relaxed. What was it that you had just said? You bit your tongue. It sounded so weird, didn't it? But you just wanted to compliment Fugo.

And every time, he'd be positively baffled. He let go of you, his gaze switching its focus back and forth between your hand and your peaceful visage. Lastly, he smiled. Of course he did. "Why, it's nothing! You're welcome!" The way he'd always brighten at your understanding nature, ever so shyly, ever so innocently – it was something that never failed to make your heart flutter.

. . .

When Buccellati said you wouldn't be late, he was absolutely right. The man you were after was in his house and did not move at all. It took you about an hour of waiting to finally see him leave his residence, and hopefully, head to the remainder of the conspirators. But beforehand, you made sure to comfort Fugo about Narancia's cheating; luckily, it worked, and Fugo was quick to thank you.

After you had spotted the target with your stand, marked it on the tiny map on the binoculars, you followed the man's drive all the way to the rural parts of Napoli. Fugo wasn't exactly... the gentlest driver out there. Every now and then (to be exact, every time he would hit the brakes or start accelerating), you were reminded that it would've been way better if you were the one at the steering wheel. Oh well, too late to change that.

The neighborhood you were lead into was in deep neglect, and yet, nature found a way to make it pretty. Rebellious was the grass all around, falling over the sidewalk, and an occasional flower laid here and there to further disarrange the scenery. Trees grew in unorderly batches, not a single straight line to mark a well-planted row. Amongst the green, buildings were a scarce sight, but nothing short of unpleasant. Most were vandalized in one way or another, and the usual warm, prideful architecture in Napoli's center was completely absent in their build. It was almost as if you were in a completely different city.

The good thing about this tracking situation was that you didn't have to see the target's car, you had the map on your stand. Consequently, the target would have no guess that he was being followed. You were far enough not to be noticed.

And once the target slowed down, you knew he was on his feet. You informed Fugo and he, unfortunately, sped up. Dashing through the streets, the two of you quickly reached your target's proximity. That was when you told Fugo to park the car, which he did, albeit sloppily.

You got out of the car and walked to the house inside which the man had gone. You checked once again if the location on your binoculars' map matched the one you were in front of. It did. Your spot on the map was almost the same as that of the marked man's.

"He's in there," you confirmed.

"I'll send in my stand to get this over with," Fugo told you in a hush, "but we'll have to get near."

He walked over to the brick wall, and you followed. He leaned against it, standing by the window, then lifted a hand towards you.

"(Y/N)? Would you please move a little?"

You nodded and backed off. "Your stand?"

He nodded back. Next to him, the long-awaited mystery of a stand emerged. It was an oblique humanoid figure, shrouded in...

"Purple Haze!" Fugo presented his somber stand, and to announce his appearance, Purple Haze groaned. It wasn't only the jarring sound that abandoned his mouth. Through bared teeth and the stitches on his mouth, saliva, yes, so much saliva dripped – down his chin, onto the ground in long slivers. Tethered above was a pair of manic eyes that screamed of bewilderment, and spoke to you with its deadly stare. A sleek visor, curling down like a preying beak, was the only frail filter between you and Purple Haze's aggressive gaze.

The remainder of his attributes were sent into oblivion. You could not redirect your attention. It was wholly, utterly enslaved to this bane's eyes and its low growls. Was this monstrosity the manifestation of Fugo's soul?

One elaborate scene lasting a single instant, no more. That was enough to render you terrified. The very next moment, Fugo had his stand enter the house through the window – he cracked the glass with a high kick and swooped inside, that menace.

Fugo's menace. The mafioso stared back at you, his expression darkened by newfound misery. Your shock must've impacted him, and you knew, he felt bad for petrifying you. He told a lengthy explanation for you to, perhaps, calm down. To console you.

"My stand is capable of releasing a deadly airborne virus. Since our targets are inside with Purple Haze, the virus won't reach us. Everything will be over in no time." Having finished that sentence, Fugo paused – screeches began rising from the house. "So there's no reason to worry. You're safe and sound," he assured, then looked away.

Truth be told, you weren't even scared, rather – intimidated. That's what you had told him to ease him, then sat on the warm curb right at your feet. Yes, this had to be over soon. Judging by the croaking screams, you were positive it wouldn't last long. Otherwise, you'd go insane. It was deeply unnerving to sit idly next to carnage, and not do anything else but take in the death.

But the wails died down, and another sensation would come in. You heard a thump next to you, footsteps nearing – and that frightening gruff hum tagged along. You looked upwards, and saw none other than Fugo's stand. He bore into you with his intense pupils. Their severity could not be handled. Reflexively, you jumped on your feet, staggering backwards, and were about to scream for Fugo when you realized something was happening.

Your brows knitted together, you blinked, once, twice, thrice, unsure if you were seeing this right. Purple Haze ducked and picked a flower from the ground. He lifted it, a gesture meant for you and you only.

"Purple Haze...?" You whispered, not believing your vision a single bit.

Fugo's stand was murmuring incoherent gargles, hand still in the air, delicately holding the plant for you to take it. With his head hung low, the helmet hiding his face, it seemed almost as if he was... ashamed. If it weren't for the stark impression from before, you were certain you'd find this adorable.

And you were about to accept the precious gift when the stand user began yelling.

"Purple Haze! What the hell are you doing?!"

The stand made some guttural sounds, probably out of dissatisfaction, then turned towards his user. You, on the other hand, had to jump to the side because Fugo was yelling right into your ear.

You lifted your both hands, ready to cover your ears. "What's wrong?"

"(Y/N), get away from him. Right now!"

"B-but why?"

His fists balled up. "Just do it!" His sharp order made you flinch.

Strangely, although Fugo had ordered you to move, he got rid of his stand before you made more than a step. The ominous apparition vanished with a sound you could only perceive as sad – and so, the flower it had once held floated down to the ground. A sorrowful sight that trapped your fixation for a second or so. Afterwards, Fugo was heard.

"(Y/N), come here right now, please, just come," Fugo called out. You managed to discern desperation in his plea, but did not understand the excessive worry. It would be right to say you were slightly disturbed by the entire turnabout of events – and so, you quietly complied.

Once you reached him, he did not comment. You two began walking towards your car. He bore a grumpy façade, and likewise, shrouded his surroundings in uncomfortable silence. You debated if breaking it would be a good idea – you were unsure if you did something wrong, but then again, this guy could get stressed about the most minor of details.

As you saw for yourself, he had control over his stand. So why did he get so angry?

"Fugo."

"What?" He almost spat.

"I don't know what happened and why you reacted the way you did, but everything is fine. Nothing bad has happened."

Fugo grumbled in response. "Nothing bad has happened now, that's true. But promise me you will keep your distance from my stand."

"If it unsettles you that much, then no problem, I promise I'll do that." You tilted your head in his direction. The gloom in his expression had not faltered. "What's the deal with Purple Haze? Are you scared you can't control your stand?"

He snorted. "Absolutely not. I can control Purple Haze, but accidents happen, and I can't afford a stupid, preventable accident to cost an entire life. Your life. What if one of the sockets carrying the virus cracked when you took the flower? They're on his knuckles." Fugo lifted a fist. "You could've died then and there."

The gravity of the situation finally presented itself. With a nod and a newly formed lump in your throat, you acknowledged his explanation. You understood that his behavior stemmed from worry – so you couldn't help but feel bad for him, and yourself as well.

The risk was real and you could've succumbed to it. It was through dumb luck that you survived, and you knew that – but Fugo must've felt far worse, for it was him that the death would be blamed on.

"I'm sorry," you finally said, just in case. This surprised him.

"Why?"

Whereas others would continue blabbering or even arguing, inconsiderate in their wake, you were wise enough to stop. Just a little bit of patience did wonders. For you, to think things through – or even, to fasten your hold on the reins of usually wild conversations.

You happened to be one of the rare people willing to reconcile, sort things out peacefully. Compromise was what you were after; Fugo deserved it.

For he was a good person after all. He would eventually overcome his agitation and accept his faults. You knew this, and you knew how much he struggled to do so. Making things easier for him was the least you could do; you cared for him.

"For making you worry. I just didn't understand what was happening at the moment or why I might be in danger."

And it was through your apology that Fugo would find a reason to apologize himself.

"O-oh. It's fine. I... uh..." You heard him heave an aggravated sigh. "Never mind, you shouldn't be apologizing, it wasn't your fault anyway," he mumbled. Tone low paired with a tongue soft, you knew he was gradually calming down. Oddly, it relieved you as well.

Now, to lighten the conversation. Something very relevant. "It's okay. But hey, you have to admit it was super sweet of your stand to give me the flower," you pointed out.

You noticed that Fugo's jaw had clenched before his unconcerned reply. "And weird too. I wonder why he did that." He stopped in his tracks, thus confusing you.

"Something wrong?"

He was looking sideways, to the ground, at the moment you questioned him. Once he heard you, he whipped his head towards you, his eyes wide. "Not really. But give me a moment, please!" Then he stepped aside, to the very edge of the sidewalk, and squatted. You got even more confused.

When he stood up and turned around to face you, in his hand you saw a petite flower, similar to the one Purple Haze had once picked for you. But Fugo went a step further – he bowed, and even exclaimed dramatically:

"I'm sincerely sorry for lashing out on you. Please accept this flower as my humble apology!"

Oh, Fugo. Constantly nervous and so deeply insecure he was, fixing his mistakes and stepping over his rage, with countless of apologies and countless of tremors. His act was that of chivalry, and warmed your heart it did, however, his very own core was left in a qualm.

And the fact saddened you. You tried to joke around to make him laugh, if anything, to brighten his mood.

"Copying Purple Haze? So unoriginal." You rolled your eyes in a playful manner.

But Fugo, that poor boy, he misinterpreted your action. An awkward expression formed on his face as he straightened his back. "Well... you liked it when he did that...? So, uh..." His stammers were horrible to listen to. You had to do something, but what? How to show him that he was appreciated, forgiven? Show him –

You sighed, shook your head lightly. If it meant that you'd have to overstep your boundaries, then so be it.

Fugo's guard was low, so you took advantage of that to dive in for a tight hug. He simply froze – this surprised him vastly, you were certain. You were surprised as well. Purple Haze? That was nothing. Hugging Fugo was dozens of times scarier, or at least that was what your heartbeat rightfully dictated.

Because he was rigid. Unmoving, unsettling – unwelcoming.

The realization crept on you: you miscalculated. You quickly found yourself wanting to move away, doubts and misconceptions landing on your conscience like the worst of sham. It was as if you were rejected – no, no, you were being rejected, by someone who you truly cared for, and somehow, you understood in that regretful moment, by someone you wanted to care about you as well.

Affection, for him? That couldn't work, that would never work. You wanted to strip him off of it, for he could not handle it. That was when you felt him shift, move his arms upwards to – to actually hug you back.

Gentle words reached your ear, healing your hurting soul. "You... um, you smell nice," he complimented quietly. Just like that, a grin overtook your face. One statement, and he erased all of your aches.

You mumbled a thank you. Fugo would assume that it was simply gratitude for his kind words, but you knew its meaning was a lofty one – through this, you believed you realized your feelings towards him. And what once was a hurrying heartbeat that raced with fear, became a gleeful sensation that spread all over your chest.

Fleeting was the embrace, far too long and yet – surely not enough. Once the two of you stepped away from each other, no words were discovered to describe the moment. Fugo held a bashful smile, and you knew he wouldn't speak up first. You noticed a detail more, something that instantly made you chuckle.

"You dropped the poor flower," you told him with a pout.

"I... I had greater priorities other than holding it," he justified himself.

Priorities, he mentioned? Oh, you remembered something very important.

"Speaking of greater priorities, I am driving us back," you informed, placing your hands on your hips. Fugo had no choice but to agree.

Purple Haze was a fitting stand indeed. Misunderstood, just like his user, and undoubtedly a sweetheart.

[hetacakes]

clink.

terushima yuuji x fem! reader

in which reader is the cute, shy nerd of johzenji high that terushima has for some reason set his eyes on. she lets him in on a little secret of hers, and the two make a bet, deciding the fate of their possible relationship

or alternatively, reader is cute but secretly is a little shit and terushima is head over heels for the duality

i wrote a proper one shot for once (even though it's super self-indulgent) and not a half-assed drabble, yay!

warning for cussing

word count: 4,971

   Terushima really, really liked his tongue piercing. Hell, he loved it, because it a: made people flirt with him more, and b: made people kiss him more. The number of times people have told him his piercing makes them want to jump him couldn't be counted on his fingers, or his teammates' fingers, or the fingers on his whole team combined, which Terushima was very proud of and appreciated, thank you very much. 

   That being said, he did have one question.

   "What does it feel like?"

    If there was a school with the most cliche stereotypes in its student body, it was Johzenji. The student athletes were the volleyball team, the popular kids were the basketball team, and every school has their self-proclaimed outcasts, with their limited freedom to be anti conformist due to the school dress code.

   And of course, there were the smart, always a pleasure to have in class students: top of their classes, and focused only on their studies.

   Lucky for you, you were one of the quiet, bookworm types, unsuspecting and safely away from any spotlight of attention, whereas others are accurately named "teacher's pet". More often than not, you were curled in the corner of the library or classroom, books open in front of you as you wrote neat, organized notes, color coded and highlighted. Yeah, people labeled you as a nerd most of the time, but if being a nerd meant actually having a normal high school life without the added stress of drama, which then made it easier for you to stay on top of your school work, which then would help you get into a good university, and then have a smooth ride from there on out, then whatever, guess you're a nerd now. Plus, it made your parents really proud of you and gave them bragging material to other parents, so if you really needed drama, your parents always knew what gossip floated around.

   Terushima doesn't know why he even bothers. She isn't even his type! Though he doesn't exactly have a type that's more specific than hot, pretty girl. Yet there he was, stepping into his classroom, making a beeline for the desk in the corner. Others find it surprising that he was in the "nerd class", but Terushima knew that he was smarter than most, and wasn't some mindless idiot who knew nothing more than girls and their right hand. But that was a secret he kept to himself, because he liked having that trick up his sleeve, so when other students watched curiously as he walked into one of the top classrooms, he shrugged it off, telling them he wasn't sure why he was there, too.

   You saw him approach from the corner of your eye, and inwardly sigh. Trying your best to focus on reading the notes in front of you and preparing for the history test you had in less than fifteen minutes, a shadow appeared over your notebook as an arm draped over the back of your chair.

   "No book today?" a husky voice whispers directly into your ear, which would've gotten a reaction out of you if you were in a better mood.

   "I don't need to take notes from a book if I already have notes, obviously," you said without looking up from your review, avoiding giving Terushima a satisfying amount of your attention. It was tiring, honestly. All you did was mind your business and study! You never stood out, and most people forget you even exist, at least until they need to copy notes they conveniently forgot to do themselves, to which you always said no. You did nothing to gain his, or anyone's attention, yet there he was, resting his cheek on your shoulder and turning to speak, his breath ghosting over your ear. His persistence was starting to get on your nerves, and you couldn't afford to get distracted from your education with him. You had to figure out a way to scare him off, fast.

   "Aw come on baby, can't you at least let me see your pretty face?" He twirled a lock of your hair around his finger, trying and failing to get any sort of sign that you were even listening to him. Every other girl he flirted with fell for it, so why was it so addicting to him that you never did? Why is he trying so hard for you, why is he so pulled to you? To him, this was as real as soulmates could get without an actual red string manifesting in front of his eyes.

   As usual, you ignored him. Just as he opened his mouth to sweet talk some more, the bell rang, telling him to get over to his seat or face the consequences.

   "I'll see you later, baby." He straightened, sending a wink in your direction.

   While most students filed out of the classroom, ready to either get home or attend club activities, Terushima strolled to the side of the door once everyone left. 

   That is, everyone except you.

   There you were, diligently jotting down something in your planner, slipping both your notebook and textbook into your backpack.

   As you approached the door, he blocked your way, staring down at your shorter form with a charming smile on his face.

  He took in your appearance, noting how your skirt wasn't short, but short enough to let his mind wander, showing him the exposed part of your legs between the hem of the skirt and the top of your socks, which came to your knees. The cream colored sweater you wore over your white blouse gave you a cute and innocent look, sweater paws included, and your olive jacket was tucked neatly over your arm, hanging by your side. He almost drooled at your oh-so-kissable lips, as pink as the ever present rosy liveliness on your cheeks. Your eyes stared up at him, like a kitten, in a way that made him want to coo, and had you not been glaring at him, he would've basked in the cuteness of your appearance, soft clothing and all.

   "Please, just one kiss? Don't you want to feel my piercing for yourself?" he asked suggestively, smirking down at you.

   "Not really. Do you?" You asked as you set your bag down on the nearest desktop.

   He was taken aback by your response. "Well I- I mean- uh-"

   You cut him off by tiptoeing, pressing your lips on his. Oh damn, they were soft as hell. Yeah, this is why he was so attracted to you. Yeah, he'd like to get your kisses way more often. He even almost forgot what you had just said.

   As he licked your bottom lip for permission, he then realized what you meant.

   Clink.

   You pulled away, snickering at the confused look on his face. You pulled a childish face at him, pulling at your eye and sticking your tongue out at him, confirming his suspicions.

   In the middle of your tongue sat a shiny silver bead, the twin to the one in his own mouth.

   "Nobody's gonna believe you," you taunted, slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking out of the classroom as he stepped to the side distractedly, dumbfounded, obviously still processing what just happened. 

   Then it struck him.

   Well, shit.

   "I'm telling you man, she has a tongue piercing too!"

   "Yeah, whatever dude. A girl like her? The most she's ever done is probably truth or dare in middle school, and she'd only pick truth!"

   Terushima had to admit that he used to think the same of you, based on the way you wore mainly comfy sweaters and kept quiet,  speaking softly and rarely. "Bobata, I'm serious. We kissed! I even saw it!" He insisted, yet as the words came out of his mouth, he himself didn't know if they were true or not. If it did happen, then you were right, nobody was believing him, not even himself. 

   "Dude, she probably doesn't even know how to kiss," Bobata laughed as he walked away, joining a two vs. two match.

   Terushima had walked into volleyball practice after he got over what had just happened, though it still felt like some fever dream, and the coach and Hana had gotten mad at him for being fifteen minutes late, and he had to warm up by himself before he could play a match. He would've skipped it, but then they would've killed him for being so careless, and he didn't want to face their combined wrath again.

  "Nah, that was a hella good kiss," Terushima whispered to himself, staring at the ball in his hands, "but was it real?".

   "Can I have another? Please?"

   You almost laughed at the way he was asking you, like a child asking his mom for another cookie or something. "I didn't give you anything," you said, tilting your head.

   Terushima stared. "Yes you did! You gave me the best damn kiss I ever had!"

   "I haven't even had my first kiss yet," you lied straight through your teeth, pretending to look surprised yet embarrassed.

   "Nobody calls a kiss like that their first kiss."

   "I really don't know what you're talking about. Now, stop bothering me." You flushed, proud of the fact that he basically called you one of the best kissers, but you played it off as being embarrassed that he was making a big deal out of your so called "first kiss", or rather, the lack thereof.

   He could see the genuine innocence in your eyes, which frustrated him to no end. Either it was real, or he was on drugs. He hoped it was the former.

   "Then explain your tongue piercing!"

   "Tongue piercing? I would never get something as wild as that. I barely got ear piercings!" You looked scandalized, like a strict mother's embarrassing teenage years being exposed to Helen and all her kids at the PTA meeting.

   "You have one! And how else would I know if you didn't kiss me!"

   "Terushima, I really don't know what you're talking about, and frankly, I'm worried for you." You looked at him, concern in your eyes. "You're in this class with me because you're smart, and as far as I know, you're not flunking out. So why are you saying all this nonsense?"

   Terushima didn't know how to feel. On one hand, he felt like preening, taking in your praise at his hidden intelligence, but on the other, he was frustrated that you kept calling the truth nonsense.

   "Fine! If you don't have a piercing, show me."

   "I'm not a child; I'm not going to stick my tongue out at you."

   "If you don't, you're admitting defeat."

   "Fine! If you insist," You relented, sticking your tongue out at him.

   To his dismay, there was nothing there, no bead, no flash of something shiny.

   He looked you in the eyes.

   Well, shit.

   "Am I tripping or did yesterday actually happen?"

   "Of course yesterday happened, it was yesterday," you sighed, looking at Terushima, not in the mood for more of his antics. Once again, it was you and him in the empty classroom, the campus deserted. Just yesterday, your camera broke, and you turned it over in your hands before slipping it into your bag. So long, photography club.

   "You know what I mean!"

   An idea popped into your head. "If you mean this," you purred, lightly pushing on his chest with one hand until his back hit the wall. You used your other hand to pull him down by his blazer, placing your lips on his.

   Clink.

   "Then yes. Just in case you needed to ring a bell."

   "You damn tease. Why are you doing this?" Terushima's eyes kept flitting to your lips. Who would've guessed that he was also into tongue piercings?

   "At first, I wanted to drive you away by telling you something no one's gonna believe, so you'd go crazy or something. Now, I think I'm having a little bit of fun with it," you said, swiping your tongue across your bottom lip. Terushima watched as the silver bead flashed, reflecting the light coming from the windows.

   "You put it back!"

   "Of course I did, what's the point of getting a piercing just for it to close up? Now, Teru, how about we make a bet?" You stood on your tiptoes, whispering into his ear. There was no way he could've suppressed the shiver that ran down his back. Well fuck him, you were pushing his buttons in all the right ways, a stark contrast from the cold shoulder you've been giving him the past two weeks. Hell, he was loving it, fully pulled in by you and your addictive flirting.

   "Depends on the bet," he whispered back into your ear, lightly kissing it. He held your waist in his hands, humming appreciatively at your sharp intake of air as he pulled you closer to him.

   You backed down. "If you convince at least one person that I've got a tongue piercing, I'll do a favor for you, no questions asked." You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest.

   Oh god, Terushima was sure he ascended to a higher plane of existence. If his eyes were cameras, he would've taken a dozen pictures of you hugging him, staring up at him with those adorable kitten eyes, chin on his chest, his chest! He couldn't stop himself from cooing, "Awe, well when you're looking up at me like that, how can I say no?"

   You smiled, amping up your cute factor as soon as you realized it was working in your favor. "Then if you win, I…?"

   "You go out with me," Terushima said simply, to nobody's surprise.

   "And if I win, you stop bothering me. Deal?"

   "Deal." Both of you knew that if you won, Terushima wouldn't follow through with his penalty, but well, at least he'll make an effort.

   "Seal it with a kiss?" He knew he sounded desperate, but honestly he was: desperate to kiss you again, to feel your lips on his, to hear the soft sound of your piercings meeting, to finally call you his.

   You didn't answer, instead pulling him down again to give him a light peck on the lips.

   "Bye!" You slipped your backpack over your shoulders, waving a hand in the air as you looked over your shoulder.

   "Wait, not like that! I want a real one!" Terushima called, running out the door, watching as you walked away and out of sight. 

   Well, shit.

   He saw you sitting a few tables away, chatting away with your friends around you. When you caught his eye, you stuck your tongue out at him, taunting him with the bead that only you, your friends, and him knew the existence of. He did the same, watching as the two of you started making faces at each other, each one worse than the last, like elementary school rivals.

   "Bobata, when I tap your knee, you have to look where I'm looking, okay?" Terushima whispered, a plan to win the bet in his head.

   Bobata looked at him weirdly, "Sure dude, whatever you say."

   Grinning, Terushima stuck his tongue out more, making sure his piercing was as clear as day. When he saw you open your mouth to do the same, he quickly tapped Bobata's knee.

   "Dude, I don't even know where you're looking. There's nothing there."

   "What?" He exclaimed, watching helplessly as you turned around, piercing hidden yet again.

   "There's just the back of some girl's head."

   It was then that Terushima realized your friend sat across from you, effectively shielding you from prying eyes.

   Eyes that would've sealed the deal for him, in his favor.

   Terushima turned to Bobata, devastation clear on his face.

   "You've got to be kidding me."

   "Guys, why don't you just believe me?"

   "Believe what?" Futamata looked at Terushima, confused. 

   "He's been going on and on about how the girl that sits in the corner all quiet has a tongue piercing. A tongue piercing! He's gone crazy," Bobata said, leaning back in his chair.

   "It's true! I was gonna show you earlier but some girl was in the way!"

   "Why would she have a tongue piercing in the first place, and why would you know?" Futamata asked.

   "Because it's the only piercing nobody can see unless you show them, so she only told me about it because she knew nobody would believe me! Like you two right now!" Terushima exclaimed. "How often do you guys see my piercing everyday?"

   "All the damn time," Futamata and Bobata said in unison.

   "Okay, how often do you see it when I'm not going around showing it off?"

   "Now that I think about it, I never see it during class the way I can always see your ear piercings," Bobata mused.

   "That's because it's in his mouth," Futamata quipped, hiding his laugh behind his hand.

   "Exactly! Hers is in her mouth too!" Terushima insisted.

   "Why would she show you in particular, though?"

   "'Cause I've been trying to get with her and she always rejected me and she got tired of it but now she's always flirting but nobody believes it and it drives me insane but I finally have a chance if I can just prove it to somebody!" Terushima ranted, exasperation setting in.

   "Dude, you gotta realize how unbelievable your story sounds right now. You're basically saying Hermione Granger from Harry Potter had a tongue piercing," Futamata pointed out, Bobata nodding in agreement.

   "Okay, but Hermione Granger was badass."

   "Yeah, you're right," Futamata said. "But that's not the point! The thing is, all she does is study, take notes, pass classes, and get the highest grades! She's just so, ordinary. She seems so innocent and naive."

   "Yeah, but so was Hermione until we found out she was cool as hell," Terushima said.

   "Good point," Futamata added.

   "Fine, fine. If I see it, I'll believe it, one hundred percent. Deal?" Bobata relented, watching as Futamata repeated after him.

   "Deal."

   Terushima leaned over the desk next to yours, looking down at you. He watched as you looked up at him, memories of yesterday flashing in his head.

   "Can you watch me play volleyball?"

   "What do you mean?" You asked, unsure of what he was asking of you. There were no games, and the Interhigh Prelims were already over, so what could you watch?

   "After school. Sit and watch us during practice, you can even help Hana if you want," Terushima offered.

   You looked at him skeptically. Something about his request felt off, like he had an ulterior motive, but you didn't know for sure, which is why you answered the way you did.

   "Sure, I guess."

   You stood outside the gym doors, shuffling your feet from side to side. Just ten minutes earlier, you were wrapping up some notes and flashcards you were using for an upcoming literature test as Terushima walked out the door, waving goodbye. Back then, you thought nothing of it, deciding to visit their practice after they were done. Now, you regretted that, because you had to open the doors alone, by yourself, and interrupt whatever they were doing.

   Basically, you had to bring attention to yourself, which you hated in the first place, and knowing how chaotic the Johzenji volleyball team can be, you weren't sure you'd live to tell the tale.

   Sighing, you braced yourself, placing a hand on the door handle.

   Three.

   Two.

   One.

   You pulled open the door, timidly peeking inside. As soon as the sound of the door opening echoed throughout the gym, the sounds of sneakers and bumps quieted. It was as if everything has paused, freeze frame. A ball in the air fell to the floor, bouncing away.

   And the whole team was staring at you.

   "Hey! You made it!" Terushima called out as his face lit up.

   "Um, hello. Terushima told me to come and watch the practice," you explained softly, glancing around the gym.

   "Oh, great! Come over here," their manager, who you recognized to be Hana, said, waving a hand at you. You dropped your bag by the door before making your way over.

   "Hi, I'm Hana Misaki, the third year manager, and this is our coach, Anabata Takaaki," Hana introduced, motioning to the coach. He waved politely, saying, "Nice to meet you."

   Someone tapped you on the shoulder, and as you turned around, you were met with the face of a girl, obviously a first year, looking down at the floor.

   "I'm Ryuna Kuribayashi, and I'm the first year manager," she said, shyly looking up at you.

   "Nice to meet you Ryuna," you said warmly before introducing yourself as well, watching as she gave you a gentle smile in response.

   "So, what brings you here? Other than that idiot Terushima," Hana asked, throwing a glare towards Terushima's direction. As if he had super hearing, he turned around, pouting, just as one of his opponents, number eleven, sent a ball in the air, landing on his head.

   You stifled a laugh as you overheard him complain loudly. "Nothing else, he just told me to come by, and since I had nothing to do, I had no reason to decline," you answered sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head.

   "So you have no club activities?"

   "Yeah, I was part of the photography club but my camera broke and I haven't had the time to either fix it or replace it, so I've basically just been a placeholder."

   "Well, how about you become a manager for these bunch of crazy kids? Soon, you'd be the third year manager, and I'd really appreciate it if we continued having two managers, just in case they decide to tear Ryuna apart, since once their tournament is over, I'm leaving," Hana sighed, watching as Ryuna shrugged her shoulders. You looked at the team, playing two versus two matches, jumping and yelling like madmen, then back at Ryuna, who was watching fondly, albeit a bit worried.

   "Yeah, okay. I can see why you can't trust them with one manager." You gestured at them with your head, just as Terushima jumped in the air, yelling his lungs out.

   "Great! If you come here for a second I can give you a form to fill out, and- oh wait. Do you know anything about volleyball?" Hana asked. "It's just one of the things I'm supposed to ask you, since it's a volleyball club and all."

   "Yeah, I played in middle school," you assured.

   "Great! Here," Hana said, handing you a form. Fishing a pen out of her pocket, you took it gratefully before putting the paper against the wall, filling it out.

   "Then that settles it! I'll call a break and tell them the news." Hana turned to the coach, waiting for him to finish correcting one of the teammates. She tapped him on the shoulder and asked for a time out. The coach blew the whistle, and Terushima called, "Alright!"

   Once everyone had gotten water and a towel, Hana called for everyone's attention. "Everyone, this is (L/N) (Y/N)! She's a second year, but most of you know that because I hear a fly keeps buzzing around her." Hana sent a dirty look at Terushima, who put his hands up and stuck his tongue out, guilty as charged. "She's becoming our third manager to take my place once I leave," the team whined, obviously going to miss her, "so when next year comes around, we'll have a third year and second year manager. Since most of you will be graduating with (Y/N), when Ryuna is a third year, we may only need one manager, since she might be actually looking after a volleyball team, not a group of overgrown kids." The team protested, unknowingly proving even more so that they were a childish bunch. "Yeah, yeah, I'm just kidding. Everyone, welcome (Y/N)!"

   "Welcome to the team!" The team chorused, jumping in the air, reminding you of a certain redhead you used to go to middle school with.

   "Thank you," you said, bowing slightly.

   "Alright, back to work!"

   "So I heard you're becoming a manager? Why, you need to keep tabs on your man?" Terushima sidled up to you, towel around his neck, water bottle drained.

   "No, I just feel bad for Ryuna having to deal with you all the time," you replied, looking over your shoulder at Ryuna handing out water bottles to the crowd of teammates around her, looking overwhelmed before Hana came and smacked them in the head.

   "Well then, meet some of the team. Hey, Bobata! Futamata!" Terushima called to numbers 2 and 3.

   "Hey, I'm Bobata Kazuma," number 2 said as he jogged over, tipping his head slightly. 

   "I'm Futamata Takeharu," number 3 introduced as well, nodding towards you.

   "And I'm number one!" Terushima yelled proudly, with you looking unamused. 

   "So who's the captain? I bet it's Futamata, he seems better than you, Terushima," you said, trying to make fun of and get a reaction out of Terushima, and it worked.

   "No! I'm the captain, number one!" Terushima insisted, pulling at his practice jersey.

   "Fine, fine. Do you guys really only play two on two matches?" You asked, looking at the three of them. Damn, they towered over you. No wonder Ryuna was overwhelmed earlier, had you still been your little first year self, you too would've been intimidated.

   "Yeah!" Bobata answered proudly, "It's what makes us the 'party team'."

   "But volleyball is six on six…" you trailed off.

   "Well yeah, but doing two on two makes it more competitive," Futamata pointed out.

   "Yeah, but when game time comes around, you all will be running into each other, because two suddenly tripled." You rolled your eyes, already seeing them crash into each other like bumper cars.

   "But when that happens, you'lll come and save us, right?" Terushima asked, looking at you with puppy eyes.

   "I guess…" you grumbled, not wanting to indulge Terushima.

   "Aw, c'mon! You'll help us with anything, right?" Bobata pulled the same act, dodging as Terushima tried to elbow him.

   "Just say it! If you say it, we'll believe it!" Futamata added, catching on to something, something you were suspicious of.

   "You're being awfully insistent," you looked at them dubiously, raising an eyebrow.

   "Just say it! 'As your manager, I'll help you with anything'," Terushima said, speaking slowly. As he spoke, his piercing glinted in the gym's lighting, the sun already setting, unable to provide its sunlight.

   "No, that's weird."

   "Just do it!"

   "No!"

   "Please?" All three of them chorused.

   "Fine! As your manager, I'll help you with anything," you relented, not noticing the incredulous look on Bobata's and Futamata's faces.

   "Say it slower, just in case I heard wrong," Terushima suggested, looking at you evilly.

   Seeing as you were in no position to refuse, you did so, "As your manager, I'll- oh." Your face fell as you realized why they made you repeat those exact words.

   When you said 'I'll', your piercing was out in the open, exposed to two of Terushima's friends, who were looking at you with disbelief written across their faces. You mentally smacked yourself for overlooking the fact that when Terushima said it, his piercing was visible, too.

   "I believe the bet has come to an end? And the winner is?..." Terushima said slyly, looking like that cat that caught the canary.

   "You…" you mumbled, unwilling to admit it.

   "What? I couldn't hear you."

   "You!" You huffed, looking to the side.

   "Wait, bet? I thought you were just trying to not go insane," Bobata said as Futamata agreed with him.

   "You see, if I was able to prove she had such a piercing to at least one person, I'd be able to do this." He snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. "And you, Bobata, Futamata, make two people."

   "So what did you win?" Futamata asked, not following.

   "I won this one right here," Terushima replied happily, stepping to the side to hug you from behind.

   "Everyone!" Terushima suddenly yelled, waiting for everyone's attention. "Meet my girl, (L/N) (Y/N)!" Terushima declared proudly, leaning back and lifting you up into the air from the waist, peeking over your side and snickering as you protested loudly.

   "Hey! Put me-"

   You were cut off by the team's wolf whistles and yells, their cries loud enough to be heard miles away as they all jumped in the air excitedly. Do they ever stop jumping? Even Hana and Ryuna were clapping, fond smiles on their faces. 

   Accepting your fate, you crossed your ankles, holding on to Terushima's arms for dear life.

   "Thank god you're in good shape," you whispered, squeezing his bicep.

   Terushima grinned. "Like it?"

   "Love it," you rolled your eyes as he preened, hugging you even tighter, before putting you down.

   "Guess I got my girl after all," Terushima said as those who overheard cheered softly for him.

   "Yeah, yeah, it took you three weeks and a bet to get little old me."

   "Yeah, but little old you tricked everyone by having a tongue piercing, so I wonder, what else are you hiding behind that innocent façade?"

   "I don't know what you're talking about," you said, crossing your arms and petulantly looking to the side.

   "Well, can little miss innocent give me the hottest kiss of my life?" He said mischievously, eyes sparkling at you.

   "Whatever you say, mister handsome-as-hell," you smiled, leaning up as he bent down, your lips meeting in the middle.

   If it was even possible, the team got louder, and even the managers were whooping for you, relieved that you finally got together and happy because you two made a really cute couple.

   Terushima smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you even closer.

   Clink.

[miss-tc-nova]

The First Move - Eraqus x Fem!Reader

It’s a little on the long side for my normal stuff, but meh. Eraqus brings out the lighter side of my writing at least. 

~~~~~

                Groaning, I kick at the alarm orb to shut it up. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I wash up and get ready for the day. I find Bragi and Hermod, both also groggy, in line for the bathroom when I step out.

                “Have you seen Eraqus?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

                Hermod shakes his head sleepily and Bragi replies with a tired smirk, “Nah. He’s probably waiting for his babysitter to wake him up.”

                Heaving a dramatic sigh, I prepare myself for the first challenge of the day. I approach the door next to my room and bang on the door. “Era. Eraqus, wake up!”

                “Just let him sleep in and deal with the consequences himself,” Urd yawns, coming upon us along with Vor and Xehanort.

                “I can’t,” I grumble. “Even if Eraqus gets punished, we’ll still get a lecture about looking after each other from the Master.”

                “So you’re a push over,” Xehanort yawns to which I scowl. “You wouldn’t have this problem if you stopped babying Eraqus.”

                “I don’t know if you can call it babying when she can literally throw him out of his room,” hums Urd. Vor giggles.

                Ignoring the rest of their jeers, I push my way into Eraqus’s room. The boy is sprawled across his bed, still fast asleep. Reaching down, I shake him. “Hey, it’s time to get up.” He’s resilient today. Huffing, I rip the pillow from beneath his head and beat him with it. “Wake up, you lazy bum!”

                He snaps awake, trying to cover his head. “I’m up! I’m up!”

                I throw the pillow on top of him. “You better be. Now go get ready.”

                Pushing himself off the bed, he stretches. “Alright, I’m going.”

                Eraqus and I have been friends for a long time. I’ve known him since before our training days. So we’ve been stuck together for years. There’s not much that I don’t know about him, down to his ridiculous habit of chewing on the strings of his robe. And I’m sure he knows all my little quirks. We know each other so well, I could probably pick him out of a line up by his bare ass. He’s been there for me for so long; I’ve probably grown mildly dependant on him, even if it looks the other way around.

                With other students and staff, I collect my breakfast in the cafeteria. I do my usual and gather breakfast for him as well, knowing that the slacker will get here when the food’s all gone. Before long, the others begin to gather at our usual table.  

                An arm reaches over my shoulder for the spare plate. Out of reaction, I move the plate further away and look back, but I didn’t expect him to be so close. My eyes catch on his, mesmerized by the flecks of silver scattered throughout his magical gray irises. I feel the warmth climbing up my spine. I’ve considered having feelings for him before, only to push them aside in favor of not ruining a friendship or distracting ourselves. So I’ve tried to ignore the fluttering in my chest and push aside the fantasies that intrude on my mind, but he makes it so difficult when he’s stupidly adorable and charming and I’m digging a hole.

                “Excuse you,” I grumble and turn away; hoping that he didn’t see the working blush across my face.

                He sits beside me and the sad puppy look comes up. “B-But!”

                “Nu-uh. I got this,” I tell him, trying to maintain my cool, especially in front of the others. “I got up, got ready, came down, and picked this out myself. This is mine.”

                “But!”

                I push my now empty bowl towards him. Eraqus gets the hint and scurries away with the bowl to dump it in the dirty dish bin. Returning, he sits attentively, hoping I’ve been appeased. I let my eyes roll, but relinquish the plate to which he happily digs in. I notice the snickers and glances from the others but elect to ignore them. Only a few short moments later, I drag Eraqus and his half-eaten bagel to class.

~~~~~ 

                My knees give and I end up on my ass, sighing in relief. Master Odin chuckles and tells us that training is done for the day. My partner in training flops down beside me, leaning against my back.

                “You were great today,” he huffs. “That blizzard spell was strong.”

                I huff between gasps, “Didn’t stop you from breaking out of it.”

                His head tilts back to rest on my shoulder, his wavy hair brushing my cheek. “Thank goodness. The last thing I want to be is a popsicle.”

                “Might make studying in peace a bit easier,” I say, poking at his face.

                “Oh come on. You’d get bored if I weren’t here.”

                “I do have hobbies outside of being bothered by you.”

                “You enjoy it.”

                I glance away in an attempt to hide my grin. “Whatever. Now get off me. You’re all sweaty.” Standing up, I leave him to flop onto his back from where he gives me a goofy grin. I raise a brow at him, hands on my hips. “I’m gonna go shower.”

                Throwing his feet over his head, Eraqus is back on his feet. “’Kay. Then you’ll do my homework after right?” I throw a glare at him and he puts his hands up with that cheeky grin. “Sorry! I mean help; you’ll help me with my homework, yeah?”

                Ignoring the lazy boy’s mischief, I amble off with Urd and Vor to clean up.

                “You know he’s using you, right?” Urd comments on our walk. I glance at her. “Everyone, including Eraqus, knows you won’t let him fall behind.”

                I sigh, “Considering I seem to be the class leader, I don’t know what else you expect me to do.”

                “Part of being a leader is encouraging people to stand on their own,” Vor sings, dancing a few steps ahead. But she suddenly turns back with a Cheshire grin. “But there are other reasons you dote over him, aren’t there.”

                “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.

                “Oh nothing.” She continues skipping down the hall and even Urd won’t stop smiling. They quickly change the subject despite my insistence.

~~~~~ 

                “For the love of-Eraqus!” I tear the book from beneath his face, which subsequently collides with the table.

                “Ow!” He sits up, frantically turning in his seat. “Fire! Daybreak Town! C! What subject is this?!” Regaining his senses, his silver eyes turn on me. Even though I’m standing over him with my arms folded, he sighs in relief and lets out a chuckle.

                “For someone who sleeps in on a regular basis, you sure take a lot of naps,” I growl. “Honestly, if we hadn’t been friends since we started walking, I would’ve left you two grades behind.”

                Propping an elbow on the table and resting a cheek against his palm, he answers, “I dunno. Just because you have ambition doesn’t make you mean. You’d probably drag me along by my feet even if we’d never met before.”

                I shake my head. “Gods, they were right.” He raises a brow. “You’re just using me because you’re lazy.”

                “Oh I dunno about thaaat,” he replies nonchalantly.

                I close my book and reach for another. “I really should just let you fall behind. Even if the Master lectures the rest of us, you might actually-”

                The second book slides away from me. “Woah woah. Okay, hold on. I’ll take it seriously.”

                “Oh really?” I scoff.

                “Yes. I swear.”

                I glance over him briefly. He genuinely seems to mean it, but I can’t be sure it’s not just my soft spot for him. “Prove it.”

                The boy glances around in search of a way to prove he’s serious. When it appears he’s got nothing, Eraqus looks to me, a look of uncertainty on his face. Before I can brush off his failed attempt to convince me to stay, surprise jolts through me like a thunder spell when he takes my wrist and pulls me into his lap.

                “E-Eraqus!” My skin is on fire and the rate of my heart is climbing.

                “Wait! Just-!” He taps at the book in my hands. “Explain the whole worlds-separating thing to me again!” Strong arms around my waist, he hugs me to him. “Please! I’ll pay attention this time!”

                Seeing as I’m not going to get free of Eraqus’s stronger grasp without some force and he’s practically begging me, I relent. This is so incredibly awkward, yet I find it notably comfortable. Even as I read aloud and explain the text to him, my thoughts keep trying to draw me to the closeness of the situation: his body against my side, the arms that never release me, his chin against my shoulder—my insides are a complete wreck. However, Eraqus is true to his words, focusing on our studying and participating in the conversation. It’s only after maybe an hour that his attention lulls.

                “And that’s how your ancestors settled Scala Ad Caelum,” I say, closing the book. “And that should be everything on our history homework.” His eyes blankly continue to stare at the book. “Eraqus?” Reaching up, I tap a finger against his nose. The boy flinches, his grip tightening on me. “You promised to pay attention.”

                “I am,” he grumbles, rubbing his face against my arm. “Uh, you said my ancestors settled Scala Ad Caelum.”

                “How?”

                “Uh…” He’s got no answer. “Okay, I started zoning out a bit near the end. I’m sorry.”

                It’s impossible for me to stay angry at that sheepish smile and I return it. “At least you made some progress.” I don’t know what possesses me to do so, but I let my fingers slide into his hair, pushing his bangs from his face. He emits an expression of serenity and I feel my temperature leap. My hand recoils and I pray that flush I feel isn’t visible on my face. “We should start our magic homework.”

                He peers up at me and my brain goes on high alert. His eyes are burning; the steel color almost molten. “I think we should take a break.”

                His voice is far more serious than usual and I’m sure he can see my fluster now. Still, I let my instincts react to his words rather than his tone. “Eraqus, we can’t keep-”

                “Just ten minutes.” I’m not going to be able to resist if he keeps talking like that. “There’s something else I want to focus on for a bit.” Before I can object, a hand behind my head pulls me closer. My heart might just explode and I’m terrified he can hear it as clearly as I can. “You know, I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting, for you to break. But you’re far more persistent than I thought.” My words catch in my throat, making me unable to respond. “And I just can’t take it anymore.”

                I can barely get his name out. “Eraqus?”

                I never would’ve come close to imagining just how soft and warm his lips are. Even if they are soft, there’s still form behind them which he uses to lead the kiss. My insides are turned to absolute mush and, had my mouth not been occupied, I’d be begging him for more.

                The kiss breaks with a soft click but no one backs away.

                “I really like you,” he whispers as if speaking any louder will ruin everything. “And I really, really want to be more than friends. And I know you do too. So please just admit it already.”

                I take a deep breath. For so long, I doused all budding emotions for this boy the moment they came up. I went about life as normal while convincing myself that he was just a close friend. But I guess there was a seedling that I’d missed, one that’s been growing in the background and hiding in plain sight, because I can’t find a reason to say no.

                “I don’t want to be just friends,” I admit.

                In the privacy of this moment, in the intimacy between us, that’s the brightest smile I’ve ever seen Eraqus wear. “Good.”

                He pulls me in again and I let myself indulge in the weightless feeling of bliss. And Eraqus is happy to let me lead, to let me satiate the hunger that’s bloomed within me. I never knew just how much I wanted this until he handed it to me and now I may never let him go.

                “I told you he was gonna make a move today.”

                With my entire body on fire, I tear away from Eraqus to see our classmates entering the study room. There’s the utmost look of smug victory on Xehanort’s face.

                “Hey guys,” Eraqus greets as if we weren’t just caught making out and I’m not still on his lap.

                Bragi walks past Xehanort. “Please. It was obvious she was in control.”

                “What are you guys…” I trail off because I’m not sure I want to know.

                Hermod leans against the wall, smiling. “They had a bet on who was going to confess first.”

                Vor pipes up, “Bragi was betting you’d make the first move.”

                Eraqus’s chuckle resets the fire crawling across my skin and he nuzzles up against my shoulder. “Then I guess Xehanort wins,” he hums.

                Xehanort looks all the more smug and Bragi’s jaw drops. “No way!”

                My face burns even more and I try to hide some of it behind a hand while the victor replies, “Boom. I win. There was no way she was gonna cave before Eraqus. Now pay up.”

                Bragi glowers as he digs through his pockets. “For years, you’ve taken the lead on almost everything but the one time I need you to be assertive, you let the class clown beat you to the punch.”

                I open my mouth to retort, but Eraqus just laughs. “He’s right, you know.”

                In retaliation, I pinch at his cheeks. “Oh yeah? How about I make you do the rest of your homework by yourself?”

                He turns it around on me with a sly smirk. “If I do, can I have another kiss?”

                “Looks like the class clown’s got our fearless leader on the ropes,” hums Urd, pointing out my returning blush.

                “I think it’s cute.” Vor earns a glare.

                Hermod finally kicks off the wall. “Okay guys, I think that’s enough. Let’s leave the love birds alone.” With that, he ushers the class out of the room, leaving me alone with Eraqus once again.

                “About that kiss…” Eraqus says suggestively.

                I turn on him, slowly drawing my tongue along his bottom lip. This time, it’s his turn to appear flustered. “Shut up.”

                “Yes ma’am.”

[jadekitty777]

Cram Session

Alright, the final day is here – and you better believe I’m ready to burst with excitement! I have not been able to calm down all week!

So, to cap things off, let’s go for a ‘feel good’ one, yeah? This one’s all about friendship and teamwork.

Rating: K

Word Count: 2200

Summary: With the looming threat of his entire team being failed if he does, Tai finds himself desperately trying to absorb every bit of knowledge he can before the big test. Unsurprisingly, it’s not going well – but at least Qrow’s there to offer some moral support.

Ao3 Link: Cram Session

The fluctuation of hormone levels from pure dust injection in the human body was found to have different effects depending on many factors including the following: Age, weight, aura level,…

The tapping of his pencil kept time with the ticking clock as Tai read through the scientific journal, trying to absorb as much as he could. He needed to get a good grade on this test; he was doing horribly in his Analytical Dust Chemical Bonding class. Just the name of it was daunting – but the actual lessons were brutal. He’d never gotten so many bad marks in his life. One more and he was going to fail the class. While that wouldn’t be the end of the world on its own, there was just one teensy-weensy, itty-bitty little problem:

If he failed, the rest of his team did as well.

No pressure there or anything.

He believed that the dire consequences was all about promoting teamwork – some philosophical mumbo-jumbo about how if they let a partner fall behind in class, they’d let them fall behind on the field too. He wouldn’t even say he disagreed with the idea, but it certainly didn’t account for people like Qrow and Raven, who had virtually no prior schooling experience. Not to say they were dunces – put them on the field and they’d ace nearly any training exercise. But the minute a pen was in their hand and a book in their lap, they suddenly seemed like the stupidest people in all of Beacon.

It was Summer who had figured it out. Their history teacher had called on Qrow to answer a question on the board. He had squinted for a few moments, before saying, “I can’t.”

“You don’t know the answer?”

“Nah, just can’t read your handwriting.”

At the time, Tai hadn’t thought anything of it; but as the teacher read off the question, Summer sat up straight in her seat, looking as if she’d just solved an enigma. Later that day, she called for an impromptu ‘team meeting’.

He remembered how she paced, looking troubled, before finally whirling on the twins. “Look, I’m just going to be direct about this. You two can’t read, can you?”

Tai was so caught off guard by the announcement his mind was struggling to catch up. The siblings, however, had no such issue, going from bored to alert in a blink. “What nonsense are you spouting? How do you think we filled out our transcripts?” Raven counterargued.

“Bribery.” Summer replied without missing a beat. “Just like you’re doing with Oobleck.”

“It’s called working smarter, not harder.” Qrow quipped.

“No, it’s called cheating.” She retorted. “And it’s not going to carry you through the next four years.”

“Don’t know if you don’t try.”

“And anyways, last I checked, we were here to fight Grimm.” Raven added. “Who cares about the written stuff?”

Summer started ticking off points on her fingers. “How are you guys going to write the papers? Do the presentations? Take the finals?”

That seemed to knock out some of their bluster as they shared an uncertain glance. It seemed the exact scale of what they needed to worry about had never occurred to them – but how could it of? They couldn’t read the lesson plan. “We’ll figure it out.” Raven finally said, shrugging it off.

Summer looked between them, huffing like a bull about to charge.

Tai was the one who found his voice first. “Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”

“Oh great, now you have something to say?” Qrow snipped, his casual tone shifting to something more caustic.

Deliberately avoiding the obvious goad, he continued, “Look, there’s no shame if you don’t know how to read or write. There’s only shame in not being willing to learn.”

“You’re a regular ol’ walking proverb, you know that?”

“I have a book filled with them. I’ll let you read it when you can.” He finally shot back, getting to his feet. “But you’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t try. So, either you lower your pride and ask us for help, or you fail. Your choice.”

Summer intervened, gentle yet firm. “You guys must have come to this school for a reason. You have to decide if that reason is worth working hard for.”

Nothing had happened right away, and after a few days, Tai was pretty sure the twins were going to stick it out on their own. Then, one day, while he and Summer were studying in the library, the two had walked right up to their table and demanded their ‘supplementary lessons’ (Raven absolutely refused to call it help).

As it turned out, neither of them were completely illiterate, but their handwriting was atrocious and the level they could read at was on par with a seven-year old’s. So, Summer got them comprehensive reading books to strengthen their vocabulary and stencils to help them with their letters. It was torturously slow-going at times, and he had worried the whole process would be agonizingly painful, as he’d expected every lesson would be nothing but their attitude dialed to eleven – and it had been. At least, at first.

But as the weeks passed, the twins seemed to be less focused on irritating their teammates and more focused on actually learning. Qrow had an insanely good memory, so he was picking up new words and how to apply and spell them by the buckets nearly every week. For Raven, what she lacked in memory she made up for in pure fortitude as she rewrote and reread until she got it right. And though he’d never dare tell them, it was kind of adorable seeing one of Raven’s little smiles or hearing Qrow’s soft ‘Oh’ whenever they understood something.

To his own surprise, Tai discovered he had a bit of a fondness for teaching. There was just something so uplifting about helping the twins work through a problem and see them get it and realizing it was him who helped get them there. It made him really look forward to their time together. It was nice, just being able to sit down together, just the four of them, laughing and helping one another. It finally felt like they were a team.

More than that even - like they really were friends.

He wasn’t going to mess that all up by failing this exam.

The mesolimbic dopaminergic system seems to have a habit of creating new pathways in the ventral striatum…

“The what in the what?” He groaned, letting his head thump onto his desk. How was he going to get all this by Monday?

The door opening had him shooting back up. He expected the rest of his team to walk in, but was surprised when it was just Qrow. He was polishing off the remains of a cookie – Summer’s idea. She thought a reward system would be a good motivator. The twins had rolled their eyes about it, reminding their leader they weren’t children; yet, every cookie earned was mysteriously gone by the end of the session.

“Yo.” He greeted around the mouthful.

“Hey. Done already?” Tai replied, glancing at the clock. It wasn’t even late afternoon yet.

“Nah.” Qrow said, dropping his book bag onto the desk adjacent Tai’s. “Flowerbud called for a break. So, I came back for a nap.”

“Where’d they go?”

“Where else? Training room.”

He snorted softly. From the way she behaved, anyone would have expected it to be Raven’s scheme – but it was actually Summer who loved to unwind by kicking the crap out of them. Rae was just too stubborn to back out of a challenge.

“Isn’t that the same chapter you were reading when we left?”

Tai looked down, covering part of the page. “I was just going over it again.”

Qrow hooked his ankle around the leg of his desk chair, pulling it out and plopping down. “So you know all about the transcriptional mechanisms that develop over time from dust exposure?”

He stared. “Do you?”

“I mean, I don’t actually know what I just said, but I know that basically people get addicted to the stuff.” He replied with a shrug. “So when you see those words, that’s the answer you’re looking for.”

His brow furrowed, trying to make sense of that suggestion. “Is that how you’ve been taking these tests? Just correlating words with the answers you hope will be there?”

“Well yeah. It’s not like I’m gonna be able to read at an academy level anytime soon. Gotta make do with what I got.” He stretched his legs up onto his desk, tipping his chair back. “Don’t need top marks, just passing ones, right?”

“Yeah but,” Tai tried to argue, but when he realized he really didn’t have one, he merely sighed, slumping over some. “Well, I guess it works for a guy like you. You’ve practically got a photographic memory.”

“Or just nothing’s up here.” Qrow joked, tapping his own temple. “An empty mind makes room for more genius.”

“Oh yeah you’re a real prodigy.”

He popped his collar. “Glad you noticed.” With a clack, his chair landed back on all four legs and he popped out of his seat. “And genius like this needs rest.” He put his palm against Tai’s forehead, pushing his head back. “Come on sunburn, you need some too.”

Tai shoved him away. “Maybe later.”

He shrugged, walking across the room. “You know it’s not that big of a deal if you fail, right?”

“Of course it is!” He turned, draping his arm across the back of his chair. “What if I get us all held back?”

“Oh gosh!” He exclaimed sarcastically, falling back onto his bed. “Another whole semester of free food and a bed so soft it’s like sleeping on a cloud? What ever shall I do?”

Huh.

Well, when he put it that way, Tai had no idea why he was trying so hard either.

As if he could read his thoughts, Qrow continued, “See? It’s all in the perspective.”

He couldn’t help it. “So you’re giving me the ‘bird’s-eye view’?” He rose his arm to guard from the pillow flung his way, cackling madly.

Not quite as amused, his roommate only rolled his eyes. “Whatever man, you’re stupid.”

“Don’t worry, our chemistry teacher agrees.” He joked, turning back to his textbook. He underlined the bit about transcriptional messages.

Too lazy to fetch his own, Qrow snatched the pillow off of Raven’s bed. As he got comfortable, he spoke up again, “I still think you’re stressing too much.”

He wrote a note in the margin beside the paragraph. “I just don’t want to disappoint you guys.”

“Sorry to tell ya this bud, but you’re sharing a space with me. Disappointment is guaranteed.” As if Qrow’s words were a cue, the lead on Tai’s pencil suddenly snapped.

He sighed, tossing it down. Alright, maybe a break was in order.

Tai got to his feet, stretching out some of the kinks that had settled. He fetched the pillow off the floor, nailing Qrow in the face with it. He laughed as the other squawked indignantly, turning away to pick up his scroll. He flicked off the lights and headed for his own bed, ducking under a retaliatory throw, the pillow hitting the door and flumping uselessly to the ground. “Nice try.”

Not willing to sacrifice his other, Qrow just grumbled over his failed attempt, kicking off his shoes. He twisted onto his side, facing Tai as he laid down on his own bed. The smirk he gave him was borderline lecherous. “At least I finally got you into bed.”

Tai threw his pillow. And Summer’s for good measure. “You’re the worst!” He ignored the way he laughed at him, focusing on his phone as he set an alarm for them. He placed it on his nightstand. “Alright, give it back. Alarm’s on for five-thirty.” He caught his pillow when it was tossed back at him, burying his face into it.

He heard Qrow shift around before he said, “Hey so, I can’t help you study, but if it means that much to you, I can help you cheat.”

He turned his head, “What?”

“Yeah. I’ll write you tiiiny little notes and we can slip them in the lapels of your jacket.” He pinched his forefinger and thumb together to accentuate just how tiny he meant. “They’ll never suspect a thing.”

Despite knowing it would expel him if he got caught, the fact he was legitimately considering it was probably not a good sign of where his moral compass was going. “I’ll pass, but thanks anyways.”

“Alright. If you change your mind I got plenty of ideas.”

Tai smiled, knowing just how much it said about Qrow that he was at least offering – or trying to cheer him up at all, for that matter. Six months ago, they could barely stop themselves from flinging insults if they were in the same room together; now, he merely ribbed him for fun. Things had definitely changed.

As he drifted off, he figured Qrow was right. It really didn’t matter if he failed some silly test. He’d made some good friends along the way and that was the best success he could ever have.

-

A/N: Prompt was “Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”

[nneefa]

fic: the way you do the things you do

fandom: xiaolin showdown

characters: kimiko/raimundo, omi, clay

summary: there was something unsettling about the bruise on raimundo's face, considering it was meant for her.

notes: i struggled really hard with this, though i had a lot of fun with it. deep, introspective writing is not my forte. regardless, i hope y'all enjoy this. dedicated to @writing-saved-my-life

♡

It was funny how things could still manage to be so lively around the temple, considering what had just transpired not even 24 hours ago.

Living and fighting through two, insanely alternate timelines was certainly one thing, but to turn around and battle against the ‘Unwelcomed Mob of Evil’ - as Dojo had so eloquently phrased it - a second time not even ten minutes after coming out of them was just too much, even for Wudai Warriors. Master Fung, thankfully, had the right mind to give them the rest of the day off. He even dismissed them from their chores, of course, putting it off for the following day. According to him, they’d earned it on account of everything they’d been through. It also helped that they’d sustained more injuries on top of what they already had, but none of them dared complain.

Instead, they fell right back into the swing of things. That was, everyone except for Kimiko.

From her position at the infirmary sink, Kimiko watched Omi flit about Raimundo’s cot with the energy of a four-year-old with a sugar rush. Despite his injuries - a knot the size of a ping pong ball on his head, a split bottom lip, and several scrapes and bruises peppered along his knuckles and arms - Omi still found a way to be energetic.

It almost got on her nerves how easily he seemed to bounce back from all of the madness, especially when she couldn’t find it in herself to do the same, but Kimiko decided not to let it bother her too much. She’d almost forgotten what it looked like to see Omi act like an obnoxious little brother to Raimundo, considering his year-long stint spent antagonizing the older boy and all. Thankfully, Raimundo never took the bait, even when Omi seemed overbearingly harsh, and if he’d felt some type of way about it, he hardly let it show. Knowing him, he probably endured it without a second thought towards the consequences. For the sake of reestablishing trust with his friend. For Omi’s sake.

That was something Kimiko could honestly say got on her nerves: not Raimundo and Omi’s endless back-and-forth banter or the time it took to repair their brotherly relationship, but Raimundo’s ability to dive in head first, regardless of the consequences. To be unconditionally kind to and for others, with no concern for himself, was something Kimiko could not, for the life of her, understand.

Like their tag team showdown against the Forces of Evil.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy with their victory or anything. She’d been just as ecstatic as the rest of the team when Omi rescued Dojo, even finding a way to jump for joy despite the sharp pain in her back. But, now that the high was over and in seeing Raimundo’s condition - the bruise under his eye, his fractured hand, the torn flesh on his arm and back, the seared skin on his chest - Kimiko was finding it increasingly difficult to be grateful about anything. A part of her was moved, touched even, that he’d jumped in on her behalf; however, another part of her was angry with him, furious. Especially when it should’ve been her.

“Oh, pleeease, Raimundo, won’t you tell me what it feels like to be Shoku Warrior?” Omi droned for what ought to be the billionth time in the last hour, snapping Kimiko from her train of thought. “I want to be mooost prepared for when I make my transition from Wudai Warrior!”

Raimundo watched him bounce up and down in front of his bed with mild amusement. “How should I know when it hasn’t even been a day yet?”

But it was as if what he said went in one ear and out the other as Omi continued his rant, holding on to the edge of Raimundo’s bed while he bounced on his toes. "Does power surge from your very body? Can you manipulate the wind, at ease, without the use of your Elemental Shen Gong Wu? Can you break the sound barrier? Can you-

“Omi, slow down!” Raimundo cut him off with a shout.

“Yeah, partner. Breathe,” Clay added, rubbing antiseptic into the grooves of his knuckles. He’d scratched his hand trying to fend off Katnappe, Cyclops and the Chameleon Bot, the first of whom he went out of his way not to harm.

Omi did as he was told and took a deep breath. Only to continue rambling again. Raimundo quickly clamped his good hand over Omi’s mouth and answered him with a grin before he could start. “Honestly, minus the robes, it still feels like I’m a Wudai Warrior, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it. No, yes, and maybe…, I don’t know yet. Now, are you done?”

Omi nodded his head vigorously and pulled Raimundo’s hand from his mouth. “Ooooh,” he chirped excitedly, clamping his hands over his cheeks, careful to avoid the bump on his head. “I cannot wait for my chance to become a Shoku Warrior! I’ll be all this and a box of cookies.”

“Uh, that’s ‘all that and a bag of chips,’ Omi,” Kimiko finally said, maneuvering away from the sink and towards Raimundo’s bed where the shorter boy stood to hand him an ice cap. “And no offense, but I think you should focus a little less on being a Shoku Warrior and more on your injuries.”

“Yeah,” Raimundo agreed with a snicker. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were sprouting a second head.”

“Well, at least I am not bound to my mattress,” Omi jeered with a flush of his cheeks, hiding his knot beneath his ice pack.

“That’s ‘bedbound,’ knucklehead,” Raimundo guffawed, unable to contain himself anymore, causing Omi to go from pink to red.

Before Clay could stop himself, he burst into laughter too. “Now, Rai,” he managed to say between gasps of air, “that was a low blow. Even for you.”

Kimiko tried and failed to hide her own laughter with a strain of her cheeks, knowing that Omi didn’t enjoy being the butt of anyone’s jokes, especially when it came to his head. “Yeah, Raimundo,” she said, coughing in a feeble attempt to mask her giggles. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Sorry, Omi,” Raimundo immediately apologized, still laughing, though not quite as hard. “I couldn’t resist. I was holding that one in for a minute. No hard feelings, right?”

“None at all, my friend,” Omi huffed, sourly pulling his ice cap away from his head to reveal his bump. The action only made Raimundo erupt into laughter again. Omi looked to Clay with a sharp turn of his head, frowning as he pointedly ignored their newly elected leader. “Come, Clay. I believe it is time for supper.”

“Hoowee! Ain’t that the truth!” the cowboy yipped, slipping off his medical bed to stretch and rub his belly. “I dunno ‘bout y’all, but all this time travelin’ business then done worked up a fella’s appetite. I could eat a horse, I’m so hungry.”

“Yeah, dude that’s gross, but hey, while you’re at it, grab me a plate too,” Raimundo piped in with a wide smile, his amusement finally dying down. “After a long day of kicking evil’s butt, I could use a bite to eat.”

Omi paused just before exiting the infirmary, his hand posted on the threshold of the door, and turned to grace Raimundo with a smirk, a mischievous gleam in his little, brown eyes. “Perhaps, my second head and I will think it over. While we eat.”

Raimundo’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Clay’s hand flew to his mouth as if he’d just heard someone utter a swear word, mirth clear in his blue eye, and he looked, back and forth, between Raimundo’s crestfallen expression and Omi, who’d disappeared down the hall with a smile.

“But- but I’m your leader!” the Shoku Warrior whined.

“In name only!” Omi yelled down the hall playfully.

Raimundo blew out a puff of air, leaning back on his cot with a mock frown. “Ay, you think you know a guy.”

“Sorry, Rai,” Clay chuckled, his apology not even the least bit sincere, though all in good humor. “You got no one to blame but yourself for that one. You comin’, Kimiko?”

Kimiko, who’d been staring at Raimundo’s bandages since the boys’ little exchange, looked up to see Clay watching her. Although his smile appeared relax, even she could see the concern laced in his eye. She bit the inside of her cheek before a sigh could escape her lips, a tinge annoyed at having been caught moping, and graced him with a smile of her own. She wouldn’t put it past Raimundo if he’d noticed her mood either.

“Nah, you go on ahead,” Kimiko told him with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “I’ll join you and Omi in a sec. Just need to tidy up a bit.”

Clay looked from Kimiko to Raimundo for a split second, the barest hint of a smile on his face, before tilting his hat down at them. Kimiko didn’t bother trying to interpret what that meant, as she was sure it’d only make her angry. “Okie dokie. I’ll leave you kind folks to it, then,” he said cryptically and, without another word, left the infirmary.

Raimundo barely allowed a second to pass before he spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Alright, girl, out with it.”

Kimiko bristled at his demand, her frown immediate as she turned from where Clay had stood to face Raimundo, who looked nothing short of confused, if not concerned. The urge to ball her fists was fierce, but she held herself back, not wanting to risk reopening the wound on her palm.

“Excuse me?”

Raimundo rolled his eyes, wincing as he sat upright in his bed. “Come on, Kimiko,” he urged, his face softening. “You look worse than Jack after he loses a showdown. You don’t think I noticed the way you’ve been looking at me?”

Heat rose to her cheeks before she could stop herself. Angrily, she asked, “And just what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, girl. You know exactly what I mean,” Raimundo responded exasperately, despite his own blush. “You’ve been looking at me like I died or something. What’s the deal?”

“It’s just that…, well,” Kimiko stumbled, fighting to find the right words to say. She had no intention of beating around the bush with this conversation, but she was finding it very difficult to verbalize her feelings: anger, guilt, worry, gratitude. She’d never felt so many mixed emotions at one time before. In the end, she deflated, gesturing weakly at his condition with a twist of her hand, and softly said, “Look at yourself, Rai.”

He relaxed a little, and gave himself a once over before looking back at Kimiko, his smile as easygoing as ever. “It’s just injuries,” he replied with a shrug, rubbing his wrapped hand. “No big deal. S’not like I haven’t had worse, y’know. Is that why you’re upset?”

Kimiko flared up again, exhaling deeply when she slammed her hands on the guardrail of his bed, startling him. She was pretty sure she just reopened her wound, as her hand throbbed like crazy, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment. “Don’t tell me it’s not a ‘big deal!’ How can you smile like that when you’re stuck in a hospital bed?”

“Whoa, Kim, easy,” he said good-naturedly, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “I just smile. You should try it sometime.”

“This isn’t funny, Raimundo,” Kimiko snapped, glaring at him. His easygoing nonchalance was really starting to grate her nerves. “I’m being serious.”

“I never said it was,” he countered with a glare of his own, though his wasn’t quite as fierce as hers. “So what if I got a few bumps and bruises? At least we won. You’re acting like that’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing when you almost die doing it!” she blurted, wincing when she finally pulled her hand away from his bed rail. It was bleeding. As if on autopilot, Raimundo reached towards her, green eyes filled with concern, and Kimiko jerked back, clutching her hand to her chest like a lifeline. “Don’t, Rai! Just... don't, okay?! I didn’t ask for your help!”

Raimundo blinked at her, wide-eyed, hand frozen in midair. He watched her carefully with a furrowed brow, eventually letting his hand drop in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Kimiko took it as a sign to continue.

“I- I could’ve taken them myself. I could’ve taken all four of them, if I wanted,” she repeated matter-of-factly. Her eyes burned, but whether it was from anger or tears, she didn’t know; however, she decided she didn’t care. All she knew was that if she didn’t get the words out now, she never would. “But then you had to go and play hero, and now look at you. You got hurt because of me. Did you do it because you took pity on me? Huh, is that it? Or was it because I’m a girl?”

“Where do you even get this stuff from?” Raimundo sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Earth to Kimiko. Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to see you get hurt? Hannibal and his goons crowded you. I wasn’t gonna sit there and watch it happen, not without doing something about it. So, I jumped in.”

Kimiko opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, the look in his eye firm, but gentle. Her heart beat just a little bit faster than normal, but she decided to ignore it.

“And I would’ve done the same thing, no matter who it was, whether it was you, Clay, or Omi. You guys are my friends.” He paused to flash her a toothy grin. “And I don’t regret it either. That’s just the kinda person I am, Kim.”

Raimundo’s smile was so infectious that Kimiko found herself returning it. She took a deep breath, the guilt she’d been feeling since earlier easing away like a dying flame. “You do know there’s a difference between being kind and reckless, right, Raimundo? One of these days, you’re going to get yourself killed over it.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” Raimundo protested in a lighthearted tone. “Master Fung said the same thing. Sooo, what?" he asked after a beat, offering her a smile. "We cool?”

Kimiko wanted so much to punch his arm, to elbow him or something, but knew it wouldn’t be appropriate, considering he was injured. So, she did the next best thing.

She hesitated at first, but she sat on the edge of his bed and reached out to him, ignoring the strange, fluttering sensation in her stomach, and wrapped her arms around him, careful to avoid his injured back. She felt Raimundo go ramrod straight beneath her, but he relaxed almost instantly, returning her hug with a squeeze of his own.

“Yeah, we’re cool,” she answered, but then she pulled back to fix him with a stern look, her hands resting on his shoulders. “But don’t you ever do anything like that again.” She jammed a finger against his collar bone with every word to emphasize her point.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Raimundo said with a grin.

Kimiko knew that it was hot air. He’d do it, without hesitance, every single time. That was just the kind of person he was, no matter how much he tried to hide it. It was his finest quality, after all.

She nodded her head, quickly sliding off his bed before things could get anymore awkward. There was something about the look in his eye that made her feel weird. “Good. ’Cause next time, I’ll kick your butt myself if you do.”

Raimundo made a noise at that. “Whatever. Just go take care of your hand already.”

“Don’t push it, Rai,” Kimiko threatened him as she made her way to the medical supply cabinet for the first aid kit. “Oh, and Raimundo?”

“Yeah, Kim?”

She faced him fully, med kit clenched tight in her hands. She seemed to look everywhere but at him, hiding behind the kit before she took a deep breath, cheeks dusted a light pink. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Y’know, for jumping in and all.” She grit her teeth, embarrassed, before looking him square in the eye. “It might not mean that much to you, but what you did, well, it really means a lot. So, thanks.”

With that, she hurriedly left the infirmary for the dining hall. Had she stayed just a little bit longer, she'd have seen Raimundo bury his face in his knees, face gone red.

[3wisellamas]

Character Creation Tag

Tagged by @the-golden-ghost​

I...don't talk a lot about my OCs on here.  ^^;  But, for the purposes of this thing, think I'll rant about Kelly, since I just think she's neat.  If you don't know her (and you probably don't), uh...think big blob alien.

1) What was the first element of your character that you remember considering?

To be honest, she kind of came out of me trying to think about how her species would really work, or especially how they'd interact with the humans that had taken over their planet, back when the plot happened after a SUCCESSFUL human invasion.  Since I was still figuring out the characters in general I didn't have any aliens yet, it was actually mostly about the robots, so I just...made her up, to have a way of exploring that stuff.

2) Did you design them with any other characters from their universe in mind?

Admittedly, not really.  She was just...some rando, a test character that I figured I would end up plugging into a tiny part of the story eventually, after finally coming up with it.  Her having any real development or even being a major character wasn't a consideration for a while!

Heck, she still clashes with the non-gel characters a lot, kind of on purpose, to show how alien she is -- or, rather, how alien THEY are compared to her!

3) How did you chose their name?

Uh...picked it at random?  ^^;  Okay, I actually did have a thought process.  I came up with her full name, Alkeli, first -- a little play on the word "Alkaline", since she's made of an extremely basic/low-ph material.  Kelly was just a cute nickname for her that stuck.

4) In developing their backstory, what elements of their world played the most influential part?

Hoo boy, here we go.  Like I said, she was originally a VERY inconsequential character that I was just using for playing with concepts, but then I changed the plot to deal with the consequences of a FAILED human invasion of the aliens' planet rather than a successful one.  So, since the aliens were still top dog and actively trying to wipe out the few humans left, the human characters needed some leverage in order to survive.  I reworked Kelly as a character with connections to both worlds -- she's an alien, but was raised by the humans.  And I thought it'd be especially funny for her to technically be considered one of the main humans' "twin" sister as a part of that (I get a lot of joke mileage out of reactions to that little fact.)

5/6/7) Is there any significance behind their hair color/eye color/height?

Well, she doesn't have hair, so that's a problem.  She also doesn't actually have eyes, though she does have fake ones as part of her translator device -- them being blue really isn't too significant, other than her dad just picking it because it's his favorite color.  :P

Her height actually is kinda significant, though!  Most gel who interact with humans do so via translator devices, which give them a "face" and shape them to look a tiny bit more humanoid as part of it, but they usually still stay kinda blobby and close to the ground.  Instead, Kelly is super tol and intentionally tries to look more human-ish with hers, to show that she literally considers herself more human than gel.

8) What do you relate to within their character/story?

Let's see here.  Zero social skills, doesn't relate to really anyone at all, and is often a jerk to others without realizing it?  Check.  Forced by her parents into their own future plans, with her own dreams pretty much disregarded?  Check.  Low-key wants to be an artist even though she has exactly zero talent?  Check.  Total weeb loser who mostly just hides in her room playing video games all day?  Triple check.

9) Are they based off you in any way?

She might actually be the closest character in the whole thing to a self-insert.  ^^;  Which is saying something...

10) Did you know what your character’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation?

Nope.  I still don't even know.  Her species doesn't actually...reproduce, like at all (that's even a major plot point, since Kelly's birth and existence is VERY unusual!), but that's as far as I went in thinking about it.  Like to think of her as ace/aro nowadays though.

11) What have you found is the most difficult art form in creating your character?

She's actually pretty easy to draw in my usual 2D cartoony style, but...I honestly have NO idea how she'd work in 3D space at all, so if I ever tried to render her in any 3D medium it wouldn't go well.  ^^;  And neither does anything more realistic either -- did I mention she's literally a mass of semitransparent goop?  Trust me, I've tried.  It doesn't work.

12) How far past canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story?

I typically have my characters' ENTIRE lives planned out.  So...yeah.  All of it.  Not elaborating though, because spoil.

13) If you had to narrow it down to 2 things you MUST keep in mind while working with this OC, what would they be?

1.  Even if she's pretty much a human culturally, she is NOT one physically.  She works very differently from the other non-gel characters; she can only see in certain circumstances, for instance, and her other senses all work differently too, including ones humans don't actually have.  Her physical capabilities are also very different, too, which I gotta keep in mind for the various shenanigans the cast get into -- if everyone has to jump off a thing she can't follow them, but if they need anything underwater they'd be stupid not to go right to her!

2.  Her manner of speaking is also VERY different from the humans and robots, because like all gel she doesn't have a mouth and all her speech has to be translated -- can't slip up and accidentally have her use a contraction!  (until the plot twist that she's totally faking it for reasons and CAN speak like everyone else, hehe...)

14) What is something about your OC that makes you laugh?

She's definitely one of the snarkier characters, always taking shots at my more ridiculous characters and plot points.  ^^  Plus, take away her mask and she's...literally just a big angry blob of jello.  That sleeps in a tiny fishtank.  There's just something inherently funny about that.

15) What is something about your OC that makes you cry?

Just...a lot of her backstory, and how it shapes her attitude as an adult.  I put a LOT of the shit I've been through into her, good and bad, and sometimes it's...a bit much for me admittedly.

16) Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

She can be TOO standoffish and aloof, REALLY taking after her father, and her character development goes along some pretty dark routes.  It fits her, and is totally appropriate for her role in the story, but...unlike her dad, she isn't always a lovable asshole, and writing those scenes is NOT fun or easy, when she ends up making mistakes and hurting my other OCs and especially her family because of it.

17) What is the most recent thing that you’ve discovered about your OC?

Um...  oO  Not 100% sure what this means.  The newest thing I added to them?  Probably that she'd totally make a kickass spy if she actually went for it.  She's definitely got the stealth and detective skills!

18) Favorite OC fact?

She considers herself a white hat hacker.  Well, as long as she's hacking the people she cares about -- to her enemies, she can wreak a surprising amount of havoc, and is the main source of info on the villains' plots from all the data she steals from them early on in the story (and continues to be, as she starts decrypting it throughout...)

Tagging:  Nah.  If you wanna steal and gush about an OC, go for it.

[evakfanficsrecs]

EVAK FANFICS RECS / PART 5

ONESHOTS:

Quidditch and liquorice wand kisses by Bellakitse ★ Summary: hogwarts!au; The first time Isak Valtersen meets Even Bech Næsheim the seven-year Ravenclaw chaser, it’s because the boy saves him from a bludger to the face.

Sunday 28-11-16 by Treehouse Summary: A continuation of the cuddly weekend Even spends at Isak's place.

Made of Candy by Stria (Asia117) Summary: For Isak, it started with colours. (Or, Isak dyes his hair. Pink suits him.)

MORE UNDER THE CUT

his ladder to the stars by tomlinsoln Summary: hogwarts!au; A story of how a Slytherin!Isak falls in love with the Ravenclaw seeker.

Love Me Harder by tech_ftw ★ Summary: In which accidentally being added to a group text has unexpected consequences. Like falling in love.

Lørdag 23:57 by manicExpressive Summary: Saturday February 11th, 2017. Isak awaits the countdown to Even's 20th birthday.

We go out for coffee and keep to ourselves by thestyleofsecrecy Summary: He then leaned in for a kiss, but Isak gently pushed him away. “Not when we are at school…” he whispered, blushing. “Ugh, c’mon! Okay, well, you’ll see – this rule will have to be broken. I’m irresistible.” Isak doesn't want Even to kiss him when they are at school, but Even is such a tease. Isak tries to resist him.

isak x even | the beginning of the birthday tradition by BloonStuff Summary: It's Even's 20th birthday and Isak has an idea on just how they begin it. Well, if he can ever get Even to wake up and participate.

Have you no idea that you're in deep by iamjustakiddo Summary: SØNDAG 12.2.17, 01:54: Music still pounded through the walls, dull and muffled, while the two boys swayed on the spot completely wrapped up in each other, breathing in unison and hearts racing each other and the world gravitating around them, endless, infinite.

Sideways and Slantways by iriswests ★ Summary: Isak gets stuck in an elevator with the one person he's vowed never to speak to again. This eventually prompts a conversation long overdue, but not without the memories flooding his brain like a broken dam first.

Håp by tiptopteapot ★ Summary: The strangest thing about Even's panic attacks is that, mostly, they’re silent.

Popcorn poppin' by tiptopteapot Summary: Wherein Even tries to romantically feed Isak pieces of popcorn in the cinema.

The World's Best Birthday aka Even's Birthday Treasure by Huntfandomlimb Summary: Isak spoils Even rotten on his birthday and plans a romantic treasure hunt.

hey little firecracker, baby, tell me where you've been by gravinnen Summary: Isak's been so focused on Even's birthday, he's kind of forgotten Valentine's Day is a thing that exists.

Isak and Even: everything at once by imissedyourskin Summary: soulmates!au;  Isak frowned, “no? Is it different for you?” he asked her and she folded her hands in her lap, “yes. I used to see in black and white. Your dad used to see in colour. And then we met each other and we saw everything at once. It made me see colour and made your dad see black and white. That is what happens when you meet your soulmate.” Or, How Isak tries to find his soulmate.

Isak Valtersen, King of Romance by i_once_wrote_a_dream Summary: There’s a word for it. The feeling of belonging. Of home in someone’s arms. Isak isn’t entirely sure what that word is, or what language it’s in, but he knows it exists.

Lovelier Than Cardamom by flowerbedofsouls Summary: Everyone can agree that Even is a romantic at heart, but during Valentine's day, Isak surprises him in his own (just a tad too cheesy) way. 

Let me know (I'll listen) by alijan Summary: "The first time Jonas sees Even, he is sporting his own snapback that Isak has stolen and which also surprisingly fails to ruin the guy's gelled hairstyle as he takes it off. The third year walks up to their group with sure confidence, his eyes trained only on Isak." Or, Season 3 events, Isak's struggle and Even himself from Jonas' eyes.

CHAPTERED:

i want to hold you like you're mine by lydiasage Summary: Isak and Even are both lonely in very different ways. Or, the one where Even keeps saving Isak.

Lost Boys (Not Ready To Be Found) by kittpurrson ✓ Summary: uni!au; Even is a disillusioned media studies student who wishes he hadn't screwed up his film school applications. Isak is a prickly bioscience student who figured leaving his mother's house for UiO would magically fix all of his problems. AKA a college AU, wherein Isak and Even meet later than they were destined to, but still save each other right back.

Darling, I feel you under my body by retts Summary: God, Even sounds so into it. That's hotter than anything by far, and Isak wishes he could see Even right now, turn this into a video call, but there's also something alluring about just listening to the way Even's breathing becomes ragged, the low pitch of his voice. Or a five senses fic wherein Isak and Even have plenty of sex and cuddles.

Hashtag Murphy’s Law by Snowflurryflake Summary: Or Five Times Things That Can Go Wrong, Go Wrong – and One Time They Really Don’t... Poor Isak, right? Nah.

And that's my song, unheard by Anonymous ★ ✓ Summary: Isak is a second year at Nissen, and he's also a violinist at the local music school. The day a new pianist arrives is the day his world is rocked off its axis.

I Want To Love You But I Don't Know How by Skamzombie Summary: “You really do think you own everyone don’t you?” Even smiled “No. But I do own you.” - Isak and Even do not get along. In fact they hate each other. But when Even finds dirt on Isak, well it is almost too good to not use it to his advantage. And then somehow Isak finds himself in the drama club...with Even where drama is definitely promised.

snow and dirty rain by grinsekaetzchen ★ ✓ Summary: In which Vilde starts a book club because someone else already started kosegruppa, Even is a book nerd, who recites poetry, and Isak struggles to see the point of reading boring books when he could just watch the film versions; except, that he meets Even, so maybe book club isn't that much of a waste of time as he's previously thought.

Crazy by hellagroovy ✓ Summary: In which rumors says that Even is crazy and Isak and Even never became friends.

Love's ignorant of time by mishabloom ✓ Summary: That time Isak found himself feeling a lot more like Sonja, when he got a call from the only person he didn't think he'd ever hear from, or Isak decides to save Even and uncovers all the feelings he's been bottling up since their break up.

All The Time I Dream Of You by TheHottieAndTheCutie ✓ Summary: Set over 9 weeks, at 21:21. Even knows they love each other, they've loved each other for a long time now. But saying it out loud is a different thing. Especially, when he feels like he could ruin his and Isak's relationship.

Headed Straight for the Castle by boxesofflowers, Eeyoreneedsahug & safficwriter ★ ✓ Summary: royal!au; Isak is the heir to the throne of one of the most powerful nations in the world, but he would rather be anyone else. Being a prince, growing up in the public eye, never making any choices of his own - it’s all been overwhelming. After sneaking out one night, he meets a college student that makes him smile for what feels like the first time. Can he cling to this one point of normality? And will his family - and the tabloids - find out the truth?

Lost In Reality by hippopotamus ✓ Summary: When Isak first starts at Nissen, there's a third year boy, Even, who likes to make fun of him, always pretending to ask him out on dates and calling him beautiful. For some reason Even disappears in february of that first year, and Isak doesn't think he'll ever seen him again (thank god), but clearly fate has different plans, when he walks into school to start second year and even is back, repeating his third year and back to taunting Isak as if nothings changed (except maybe how Isak feels about it).

Inside Even's Brain by Delongpaw ✓ Summary: A fluffy piece about Even and Isak. Deviates from Canon at points. Graphic Sexual Situations, language and drug use. Story is basically Even's Brain trying to deal with falling for Isak. No angst. No Bi-polar. Hopefully funny moments. Depression as a normal part of growing up is discussed.  

(★ - personal favorites | ✓ - completed fics)

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 90 - END)

<Nicholas, Freya.>

Nick nodded. <Ozzy.>

Freya bowed. <Archon.>

<How are you two?> Ozpin said, before he took a sip of his coffee.

<Oh, you know: pissed off ole Sparky actually went and did it, trying to find a way to stop her this time around while trying to help sweep back what little we can under the rug, squeezing in some worrying about all three of our granddaughters now being in that hellhole you call the Viridian Valley, if we can we find the time…

<You know, the usual.> Nick replied. <Now what’s up your end?>

<We attempted to offer Weiss a transfer to Arethusa.>

<And what did she say?>

<She refused.>

<Told ya,> Nick said. <Ya know, this would have gone a whole lot better if you were all a lot more honest with her in the first place; now she’s probably going stay there digging and digging till she turns up every last dirty little secret you have.>

Ozpin looked mildly annoyed. <So says the two that have been covertly communicating with their second youngest grandchild via the dreamscape.>

<Say what now?> Nick asked, confused.

<Penny has been reporting matching accounts from both Ruby and Weiss that the latter has been having dreams involving incredibly vivid conversations with both of you, sometimes with that of Ruby’s mother, Summer Rose.

<You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?>

<First time I’ve ever heard of this!> Nick replied. <If it helps, I have been having dreams about Weiss and Winter for the past two months, the two of them in the thick of some sticky business or trapped somewhere, and I have to help them and talk ‘em out of their funks.

<I’ve been having much of the same, too, actually,> Freya said. <It might be that her first exposure to such intense levels of magic has forged some sort of connection between us all. Well, that, or my family’s tendency towards mental illness is finally rearing it’s ugly head, and Nicholas here has finally lost his mind, too.

<Eluna knows incredible water weaving powers aren’t the only things that run with the females in my family...>

Ozpin nodded. <Indeed. Speaking of family, we of the Council have been discussing your current arrangement; if you would like, we could transfer you two out of there to the Viridian Valley with them.>

Nick and Freya’s eyes widened. They thought about it for a moment, before they both shook their heads.

<… Nah, not worth the risk; the fight against ole Sparky’s going to be a lot easier the longer she doesn’t realize me and Frosty are still around to fuck up her plans,> Nick said.

<Surprise and secrecy have always been the seeker’s greatest weapons,> Freya added.

Ozpin’s eyebrows rose. <Are you quite sure about this, you two?>

They both nodded. <Positive,> Nick said.

<I assumed you would be eager to take this offer...> Ozpin said before he took another sip.

<We assume a lot of things, Ozzy,> Nick said. <And look at where assuming too much got all of us.>

Ozpin nodded gravely. <The Council is, in the end, just a group of mortals who happen to be a cut above the rest...>

<Yeah, yeah, we know—you just focus on foiling Sparky again with the Fae, and we’ll figure out how we’re going to rope my species into helping you do just that now.>

<A word of warning: it looks like our best chance is arming them with new magitech weapons and armour, ones that will be much more capable of handling and resisting the dangers of the Valley, and consequently that of the Cradle,> Freya said.

Ozpin nodded. <We’ll deal with that problem once we get there.>

<Anything else to report, Ozzy?> Nick asked.

<Nothing you can’t see for yourselves through Penny’s eyes. I have to thank you two for your continued service; the amount of sacrifices you have made and are still making have been tremendous, and yet you two continue to deliver without fail or question.>

<You just keep up your end of the bargain, Ozpin, and we’ll keep up ours,> Nick said coolly. <It ain’t that complicated.>

Ozpin nodded, and shut off the link.

Freya turned to Nick. <So are when are we going to tell them, now that our plans have been shot to shit once again?>

Nick shrugged. <I say in a year. It’s been a rough life for all of them; best we give them some time to know what it’s like to just live before we rope them into all this realm-wide conspiracy business, especially Weiss is still reeling from learning about the Keeper’s mates.>

Freya sighed. <I still can’t believe, of all the humans and hybrids in all of Avalon, it had to be her...>

Nick chuckled. <I’m not surprised, honestly—we Schnees tend to aim high,> he said, putting a hand on Freya’s shoulder. <Whether they were born or made.>

Freya sighed. <I have to wonder though: what sort of chaos will arise when we all three of our granddaughters, the Holy Shepherd, and the Keeper of the Grove together in one location…?>

Nick squeezed her shoulder. <They’re going to be fine, Frosty—they’re in good company, and even if they weren’t, they’re made of real tough stuff, just like me.>

Freya hummed and smiled, before she playfully looked at Nick. <Speaking of tough stuff: care to put that that alleged immortality of yours to the test again?> she winked as her tail began to wag behind her.

Nick grinned. <Ha-ha-ha—yeah, no. I’m still reeling from last night, and I’m not as young as I used to be, Frosty.>

Freya scowled. <Hmph. Fine.>

<Why don’t you go spend all that energy out on the training dummies instead?> Nick said, coaxing her to their Raucous Room. <If things go the way I think they will, we’ll probably be back out on the field soon enough.

<Plus, seeing you in your old seeker suit might make me change my mind in a hurry!>

Freya smiled, before it quickly faded. <I’ve been out of the Great Game for a really long time, Nick…>

Nick patted her on the back. <Yeah, but that ass of yours sure hasn’t quit.>

Freya snorted. <Nick, you are terrible.> She smiled warmly at him. <I love you.>

<And so are you, which is why I love ya too, Frosty,> Nick replied. <Now you go enjoy ravaging the ever loving crap out of something that isn’t me, for once.>

Freya hummed as she sauntered away. <I will, Nick, I will~>

Morning again in Keeper’s Hollow, and for the first time in memory, Weiss didn’t wake up because of bright morning sunlight searing her eyes; instead, it was the smell of something delicious wafting in the air.

“Rise and shine, everyone!” Taiyang said as he, Qrow, and Zwei hauled in a giant pot of food alongside bowls for everyone. “Breakfast is ready! We’re having one of my favourites: Daybreak Porridge, everything you need to get your ass in gear in the morning, then kick ass till lunch!”

“Also does wonders for hangovers, just so you know,” Qrow added.

Nora rocketed out of her and Ren’s stall bouncing in excitement as she grabbed a bowl from Qrow. “Oh man, breakfast! And Ren didn’t even have to make it first! Isn’t that great, Ren?”

“Yeah, it’s a nice change of pace,” Ren said as he came out at a much more leisurely pace.

“Thank you for breakfast, Mr. Xiao Long,” Pyrrha said as she joined them.

Taiyang laughed as he poured Nora an extra generous serving. “Please, just call me Taiyang—we’re all the same out here.”

Weiss and Winter came out of their stall, saw Jaune looking conflicted, and still dressed in his uniform sans the heavier body armour.

“Something the matter, Jaune?” Winter asked.

“… Should we be eating this stuff, Agent Schnee?” he asked quietly. “I mean, we’re kind of in enemy territory...”

“Unless you want to starve to death, or see a way to feed yourself without relying on the Fae, you should,” Winter said. “Also, it’s just ‘Schnee’ or ‘Winter’ now, considering I’m not a part of the Queensguard anymore.”

Jaune’s eyes widened. “You quit? Just like that?”

“I only joined the AFA because I wanted to protect my little sister,” Winter replied. “I can’t do that when I’m on the side that wants to arrest and/or execute her, now, can I…?”

Jaune paused. “… Right.”

“Don’t worry, you guys!” Taiyang said. “I made sure to make this stuff with filtered water; not the best way to enjoy it, but better bland than sick!”

Jaune debated it for a moment, before he lined up with Ren and Nora.

“Shall we?” Winter asked, gestured as the other sat down and started eating.

Weiss shook her head. “I always tend to my crops before breakfast.”

“Enjoy yourself, then, little sister,” Winter said, smiling as she hugged her goodbye.

Weiss left the barn, heading back to Ruby’s room to get her work dress. She had to stop and pause as she noticed Ruby, Yang, and Blake making two new scarecrows to protect all the new crops:

One massive, with short cropped salt and pepper “hair,” a full “beard,” wearing a tattered shirt and a red scarf, and wielding a stick that looked somewhat like a ceremonial AFA officer’s sword in one hand, and a pair of sticks shaped like pistol in the other; and the other much smaller, hair pure as snow tied in two parallel buns atop her head, a makeshift “lab coat” draped around her shoulders, her eyebrows and mouth slanted downwards in annoyance.

“Are those my grandparents?” Weiss asked as she came over.

<Yes,> Blake replied as she carefully adjusted Freya’s eyebrows, trying to find the right angle that would convey the most amount of disdain and annoyance for everything and everyone around her. <Ruby’s idea.>

“We were supposed to make both our moms, but then I’d be too tempted to punch mine whenever I pass her by,” Yang said as she tied Nick’s “gun” to his “hand.” “So since we already had one of your dad, and these two always came in a pair, we decided to do them instead!”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Ruby asked, smiling nervously.

“No, not at all!” Weiss said. “I love it, actually.”

Ruby beamed.

Yang pulled a little too hard to make a knot, ended up cracking one of the sticks making up Nick’s “hand.”

“… I’ll just be going back into the house now...” Weiss muttered as she began to leave.

“You do that,” Yang muttered as she picked up the severed halves.

Ruby glared at Yang as Weiss made her way to the elevator, Blake just ignored them and kept on working.

Penny was in the living room, all of Weiss’ belongings, Myrtenaster, and her box of mediums on the table and neatly tied up in her hammock. “Good morning, Weiss! I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of packing all of your things for you, as you’ll be moving out later.

“I’ve also hung your work dress behind the door to Ruby’s room, in anticipation of your changing before you tend your crops as you usually do.”

“Oh, thank you, but you really shouldn’t have!” Weiss said. “I could have done all that by myself...”

Penny chuckled. “It’s no trouble at all! In fact, do you need my assistance with anything else?”

“Nothing at the moment, thank you,” Weiss said before she stepped into—well, it was just Ruby’s room, now.

As she changed, she got a good look at the empty room, noticed how different it was without all of her belongings among Ruby’s piles of stuff, her hammock hanging just by one of the windows.

Weiss sighed. “A lot of things are going to be very different from now on...” she muttered as she left the room, and went down to her crops

Taiyang was patiently waiting for by the tool rack. “I harvest and weed, you water and replant?” he asked.

Weiss smiled as she picked up the watering can. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of them got to work tending to the farm; the others all headed to the training grounds; and another small army of makers and their pack animals were starting to filter into the Hollow, ready to rebuild the cabins and Winter’s new house atop the barn.

When Weiss first set off for the Viridian Valley, she had imagined her new life there would involve a lot of staying inside camp, trying to pass the time inside a heavily guarded bunker as the workers and the mercenaries did most of the actual work trying to find resources and a wellspring to tap into, maybe venturing out for a quick stroll once her guards were reasonably sure it was safe, or once they had established a proper settlement around a claim.

She had never expected it to actually involve all of the crazy, disastrous, and confusing events of the past month-and-a-half, ending up with her being a wanted terrorist in the human territories, running a farm while trying to get a handle on her new magical powers, and trying a relationship with the not-so-mythological and not-nearly-as-evil-or-horrifying guardian of the Viridian Valley—even if it did mean she’d be part of a giant, ongoing containment project for a 1,000 year old realm-threatening disaster area.

She didn’t have the slightest clue what the future was going to hold, what new crisis fate was going to throw at her, but she did know she’d have her new friends, her older sister, and a loving girlfriend to help her out.

And at the very least, she was sure she wouldn’t ever get bored here.

Note:

Three months back, I started Keeper of the Grove on a lark on my tumblr. I was just writing 1,800 words on a lack of sleep, after a long day at school, and some caffeine, in an attempt to get myself to write more.

I thought this would be 10 chapters or so, not the beginning of my first novel series, the birth of this expansive and complex universe, of which there are many more sequels planned.

I’d like to thank you all for reading, all of you who have left kudos, reblogged, and left comments for me to read and enjoy, and sometimes figure out where I had gone wrong in this story like with my constant flip-flopping about whether or not the Council and the Fae are a good or a bad thing.

It’s been a hell of a ride, and for now, it’s time to pull into the station, refuel, make repairs, and get ready for the next trip.

See you all back on April 7, 2018, for “The Viridian Vanguard.”

[shonikado]

Possible solution to the level 30 problem: the modifier caps at 19, but you automatically get an extra advantage for each point beyond that?

Also, for my D&D5e-wrangling purposes specifically: players always succeed if d20+mod >= 20, and just let them win ties?

Possible thought: only creatures benefit from the "nat 20 is auto-success" rule? (Though the above change invalidates the nat 20 rule)

This one is NOT well-organized and is ramble-y, so, advising against the readmore

it’s sorta like, the bullet points above are my solutions, and everything below is showing my work. Or concept art. Except it’s less interesting and more word-eresting.

So the three points above the readmore were extracted from this post. Originally it was just the "level 30 problem" thing, then near the end I added the two other ideas. So, keep that in mind, as we now enter the unedited post:

bounded accuracy arguably holds. Like, if you wanted to land one attack on that Lv.30 god per turn, I think you'd need: * About 40 peasants/fighters (Lv.0 or Lv.1) * About 20 heroes (Lv.11) * About 6 legendary heroes (Lv.20) which seems reasonable to me.

an unfortunate note arises, though - once you're converting modifier differences into advantages, it means you can't just let the players add whatever stats or item bonuses they like without involving them in the system. Because if they have a +1 to Strength while hitting that god, that changes the number of advantages involved. Unless modifiers and level bonuses are treated separately somehow, which, ugh,

Really though this is only a concern because I'd like level 1 players to look at a level 20 dungeon, then look at a level 30 dungeon, and be able to differentiate the 30 as being harder than the other. Instead of "these are both equally difficult because we're that low-leveled, if we wanted to try one we may as well do the 30". And additionally, the idea of saying "you'll totally fail going into either" bothers me because if they WANT to risk it, they should be able to.

sigh

I mean what I -could- do is say that level stuff all works as-is but player modifiers change how likely you are to get a crit - like, if you have +1 to Strength, then 19+1 is a crit just as much as 20+1 is a crit. Except when comparing crits, which would need more rules, possibly like "highest natural number wins, if it's a tie then highest modifier wins, if THAT'S a tie then see whatever your rules are for ties". How would that impact the probabilities of success now that there's an entirely separate thing mucking it up? Will it be weird if I don't also give enemies the same stat boosts? Will it be weird if I do? But then I have to track potentially small numbers again. But they might significantly skew the probabilities otherwise.

I feel like this is the obvious result of trying to reconcile two different systems in a way that restricts me from imposing new rules on players

also I feel like my problems mostly arise from the fact that I very very enjoy the idea of a system that doesn't impose limits, so things can go on forever. This is only a problem if I say I want level 30s, but I could just stick with 20s. And there's possibly solutions to the 30s that don't affect the players (increase THEIR crit range?) but then what about 40s? 50s? 100s? There is no satisfying my desire to put increasingly bigger numbers on the table

but where does it end, really

0 has meaning, you're not adventurey - 1 has meaning, you're just starting. 20 has meaning, you're a legendary badass. 30 has meaning, you're a god. What is 40? God-dad? Is 50 the universe? 60's the multiverse? This isn't like a game where a level is just "I can fight things also this level", this is a game where the level is a representation of how powerful that character is in relation to the world. So there HAS to be a cap, where the most powerful thing you can interact with is.

which is probably not gods, if we're gonna be honest. 20 seems like a totally fair endcap for "the most powerful beings of the mortal realm" and anything beyond that is just beyond levels to begin with

and we can simulate level 0s by making them level 1s with a "civilian" or "small animal" trait that just gives them disadvantage always. Done.

oh but there's still the concern of player stats other than level, then

mothrfk

ALSO I STILL HAVEN'T WRITTEN THE SUMMARIES I NEED TO DO THAT but I've been busy actually planning D&D and doing Productive Things (job hunting!) so. That'll happen... Eventually.

okay but if we say player-added modifiers can increase crit chance, maybe that's good enough. Maybe that's fine. Except for the characters who have +11 stealth even though they're only level 5 because they min-max'd super hard and are going to end up with... Hm. 6*2+5=17? Which means they'd crit on absolutely any valUE SHIT ROLLING ATTACKS TO HIT THE PLAYERS. I can't devalue their AC and I can't devalue monster AC either probably can I. I don't think I can.

well there you go. AC has to stay. It was always a special case anyway, not super surprised or bothered. (I am bothered.)

But yeah, if you can add +17 to a roll, possibly more, and 20+ counts as a crit, that's a 90% chance to crit, meaning a 90% chance to succeed regardless of who you're up against if they aren't also employing crit-boosting. Barring complex crit-discerning rules. The running theme here is that I don't actually know the probabilities, that's what I write programs for!

If a level 1 with +4 to stealth goes up against a level 30 with no stealth bonus, the level 1 has a 25% chance to crit while the level 30 has, like. A 43% chance to crit because they get a shitton of bonus so let's scale back and instead talk about a level 20. Who only has a 5% chance to crit.

I think maybe what I should do here is look at it from the perspective of "what effect would this have had when added in addition to levels" and if it matches up reasonably, then I'm fine taking it to whatever logical extreme it ends up going towards. To do that I will need to math a bit.

oh, well, there's a concern. If critting means "20 or higher", what happens when your bonus is +19? You always crit. Unless 1 is an auto-fail. But anyway, if you always crit, and enemies can also do the same, then it means you'll both never crit because you always have it and that means it goes towards regular ties. Unless 20 is a "true crit" that beats any other crit, except for cases where they're both natural 20s, in which case the higher number wins as usual, with ties sometimes happening. Which is. Maybe complicated.

Maybe, making things worse, there's crit tiers? So, for starters, check for nat 20s. If those are not present, check what each roll's crit level is. 1-19 is a 0 - 20-39 is 1 - etc., just divide by 20 rounding down. If someone's higher, they win. Otherwise, if it's a tie, compare modifiers. Wait. If someone's crit tier was higher then they'd have already won by having a higher number, right? Wait, no. It doesn't increase the actual number, it increases... something... ... okay so. Level is an entirely separate deal. These modifiers DIRECTLY modify the die. If neither person rolled a natural 20 then it's just... It's just a strict comparison, isn't it? Wait. The idea is that if both people crit, it's a comparison, meaning you can't have more crit than, the other, person. ... if I have +19 and roll a 1, I have 20. That's a crit. If you have +16 and roll a 5, that's a 25, you crit. We're both critting, so we strictly compare numbers. Yours is higher, you win. Why is 20 a crit, then? What's different between me rolling a 20 and you rolling oh. Modifiers. Right. Wait. Okay so a 20 is automatically a win. And if that doesn't happen then we compare the numbers. We're saying you can win with a lesser number than 20 with your modifier. Because it makes the number higher. no no the level modifier is basically saying "you must win by this much" and a 20 is saying "nah I win anyway" but we can compare numbers so let's do that so I roll a 16, you roll a 12 but you're 5 levels higher. So you get a 17(12) and I have a 16. If you roll a 17 and get 22(17) and I have a 20 then I win. But I can make it so I win on a 19 AND a 20 by using that modifier. So I guess there's Natural, Bonus, and Final? Natural 20 beats Bonus 20, Bonus 20+ beats Final Anything, or something how does this shake out once I have a +19 bonus, only X(20) can beat me, even from high-leveled things. Let's format this as... Natural->Skill->Level? Maybe Luck->Skill->Practice so, if I'm level 5, have a +19 bonus and roll a 1, that's 1->20->25 A singular lucky 20 wins. A singular skillful 20 wins. Lucky 20s being opposed just means "ignore them". Skillful 20s being ignored means going beyond +19 is pointless. Let's compare these two: 10->30->35 15->30->35 They're both skill crits, in the same tier if we're doing the tier thing. Well, what does 19 mean? It means you're absurdly skillful. Maybe the most skillful you can possibly be. There's no way to be more skilled at what you're doing. Again - caps are needed to explain the world. So a +19 means you've achieved perfection. There is nowhere left to go. Except if I can find a way to make +20 meaningful that'd be nice Well, against someone else with skill, you'd both be in crit territory, meaning it'd come down to who rolled higher. Note: having a high bonus may result from being decked out with magic items or being under some sort of buff. Maybe we just can't cap that bonus? But it obviously stops being relevant to anyone except for people who have rivaling bonuses. The super-buffed person can still lose if their opponent gets a nat 20 and buffperson doesn't. But that is the "0 is just as good as 11" issue from earlier... Except I'm not sure how bothered I am by -this- case. Once you're impossibly good at something, being even more impossibly good won't chance the little unknown consequences popping up. Although strength is a question, for things like picking up a rock. The rock can't win. It's a rock. Maybe only creatures can nat 20? Or, again, it's luck getting involved. I think for static challenges, dropping their nat 20 might be fine. You have +20 intelligence and are trying to remember something you have a chance of remembering? Cool, you remember it. No question. They should still be contests to allow for DM fudging, though. Anyway. So where does this leave us? Level is separate from personal modifiers. Personal modifiers can drive up crit rate, which drives up chances of winning. If no monster has stats like players, then it's easy to explain personal modifiers always winning - monsters never go higher than 20, they can't contest you without also hitting 20. If monsters have stats like players that complicates things a little bit. Players don't need to know about the critical system - just that a 20 or higher will always win for them. It can be ignored for enemies if you're in a player-centric game. This also means that having high stats means a guaranteed increase in consistency, although that's not new, I think. Well. I mean. If the idea with the level stuff was that their stats now served a new purpose if they went into higher-leveled territory, that's been shot. We've just made a way for their low rolls to not be so certainly doomed. If an enemy rolls a 24, it's level-based, and the player rolling even a 21 via mods would win because the enemy (assuming their modifier is +5 or more) didn't hit a 20. So now we've gone in the opposite direction of saying high rolls will ALWAYS succeed and we can't fudge them failing. Although, let's be fair - I don't think there's any time where I should be fudging failing to begin with, at least in my campaign. I'm trying to have things be accurate and if a player wants to do something and I let them and they roll well, they should get it. We've already done that. It was a good idea. I mean, if I'm prepared to accept the result on a 20, then I should be prepared to accept it on less. The only weird thing I guess is making level no longer matter. Whether you're up against a dragon or a kobold, if you've got +9 to stealth, you've got about 50% odds of succeeding in your stealthery. also again if monsters never have bonuses themselves then once you hit +19 there's no reason to go further but... oh well? I'll just compromise to keep things clean, the important thing is being able to make my current campaign move as quickly, smoothly and fun-ly as possible without letting players onto all of the shortcuts I'm taking behind the screen.

[yahoocansuckmyass]

**disclaimer: if you know me in real life, if you have anything to say, just message me on Facebook or whatever, I’m not in danger of myself, just venting about everything in my life at the moment**

only posting bc there’s really no where else for me to vent about anything

i feel so empty, especially the last few days everything feels so bleak and im unable to generate any emotion other than indifference and sadness. i know it will pass and im trying to take care of myself. going to yoga, eating well and shit like that but i don’t have any motivation. jus feels like im outside of my actual body, watching myself do these things without any feeling of accomplishment or enjoyment after.

and my friends feel so far away, maybe im dissociating? i don’t feel like i can open up to anyone without a shitty response from them. best friend has always come to me in times of need but when I come to them it’s like they’re not even listening or really even grasp that im hurting my boyfriend tells me “think about something else” as if i haven’t gone through years of trying that, im not able to change like that my thoughts flip on a dime and when they do I have 2+ other voices yelling at the only part of me trying to help it feels like a minefield. i try to think that im okay and that I can do this but they teller the sound of my breathing is too loud and i get so uncomfortable in my body that i can’t fucking move. it makes me want to tear out my hair and scratch my skin off. (I’ve been self harm free for almost 2 years and these episodes get really hard to handle but at least i haven’t hurt myself other than biting my lip a bit too much on occasion)

and group therapy now costs too much and I can’t even stop by for an hour.

work doesn’t seem to value me either, i have hardly any hours and in turn no money. I’ve hardly eaten anything in the past few days.

it’s so strange being stuck in this place where im taking care of myself and doing the things i need to and still being so detached and unmotivated. it hasn’t been like this in a long time. everything feels off.

not to mention my home life is just me waking up and already being yelled at for something I don’t even know about, it’s like I could open my eyes the wrong way and get scolded for it. she asks me if im okay and I try to say what’s wrong and she reverts back to “but im hurting too” why even bother asking me if you’re going to just talk about yourself

im never being taken seriously. the only time that i think even my group therapy took me seriously is when i sliced up my arm I remember they were talking about a girl and how “brave she was for being able to show her cuts in the open and talk about them to the group” meanwhile when I talked about my cuts but never showed them, I was almost brushed off. I had cuts that I could fit my fucking hand into, and they didn’t. Even. Believe me.

now I know this post is long and jumpy and inconsistent, and I don’t really care if anyone reads it, but if you do, I’m sorry for the jumping around. I haven’t been able to talk about anything to anyone in a long time. at least not really, not without the making it a competition and telling me it could be worse or saying some people have REAL problems as if my brain doesn’t tell me to drive off the road or cut a vein and bleed out or drown myself in the lake out back.

though I don’t harm myself, though I can keep it together and appear so happy and fine, I still think of suicide every day and it hurts to think about all of the people I’d destroy. and as reassurance, no i won’t kill myself. im not going to let my progress end like that, i know I have good things in my life, im just going through a hard time. high functioning mental illness is something else man.

the past few days have left me so out of it especially. they’ve been the worst. Saturday was a decent day up until my mom left to go out for the night. I was left alone with my thoughts, and then those thoughts blurred out into nothing. just alone. no energy. no motivation. no one to talk to. just emptiness. I walked from room to room without a sound, just to lay down and stare at a wall or ceiling for an hour at a time. I didn’t eat, didn’t sleep. just was there. finally i got up and just fucking bawled my eyes out, thoughts of suicide and self harm bombarded me, I felt so fucking depressed it was like a tidal wave was trying to drown any ounce of sanity i had left. some scars I had forgotten about found their way back to the surface of my neck and boy for some reason that fucked me up, i forgot I even cut my neck, it brought back that sharp hot pain and all the sensations that run through your body. it was terrible, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. and finally I reached out to my cousin, though she had plans, she offered to come get me and hang out at my place with her friend and boyfriend and thank fucking god i did, I would’ve been a mess if she hadn’t. im glad I didn’t try to cancel on her either. my boyfriend was supposed to stay over but ended up cancelling that night too. and he was supposed to come over today. slept through us hanging out. people tend to treat my schedule as if it’s something they can erase and write in a later time or date with no consequences. and gaslight me for being upset about it. All I ever ask for is communication, that’s it. Talk to me, I won’t be upset, but if you lie to me, that’s a slap in the face. I don’t understand how I can literally tell you “it’s fine if you don’t want to hang out or talk, but you need to let me know asap so I can adjust my plans” and you still lie to my face or just disregard me completely. I’ve had people tell me 10 minutes before I’m supposed to get them “nah sorry fam” and that’s it. Only to find out they made better plans and are posting about it all over the place.

it’s fucking shitty. everything has been shitty. I can’t afford food or anything for that matter, my friends aren’t really even there, my boyfriends always busy doing whatever he does, my mom doesn’t listen to a damn word I have to say, my work doesn’t feel like home anymore (I used to LOVE going to work and getting to make people feel beautiful and talk about new shit and now it feels like a chore, I’m not treated like a valued employee anymore rather than disposable).

all i can do is continue to exist in this cycle of high function dissociation.

next topic on miahs 5 years of nothing talked about post: self love vs self hatred

as i said before, im actually taking care of myself. I’ve had hip bursitis for years now that has turned me into a borderline cripple with excruciating pain at almost all times of the day, and this is another thing that people don’t take seriously. my mom calls me a hypochondriac and that it’s not that bad, everyone just…dismisses it i guess? regardless, this is a thing that’s impaired me during my daily life and it’s only added on to the various health issues that make it hard to feel healthy and love my body.

I’ve always been critical of myself, specifically my appearance. I’ve made lists of things I hate about myself. I’ve had people contribute to this, but it’s not anyone’s fault that I did the things I did to myself except my own. 3 years ago I graduated high school at my highest weight and met a person who would end up being my inspiration to losing weight the wrong ways. we were both entirely toxic to each other and I ended up using laxatives and throwing up, and not eating and working out excessively to lose 70lbs in less than 6 months. the only problem is that I didn’t see a change in my weight, i felt like I was just as fat, just as disgusting as when I started. it was obsessive for me to lose weight. and everyone congratulated me on the success I’ve had. until cosmetology school where I ended up gaining all of it back due to lack of time for exercise and heavy depression and my hip problems. (also congrats if you’re still reading this, im not entirely sure when ill stop writing) i felt like I failed myself, and every time I tried to adjust my diet I’d just end up not eating and it scared me, I didn’t want to be back to that place. I didn’t want to feel like that again. (Today, I’m actually doing well with my diet and sticking to it in baby steps so I don’t overwhelm myself) granted I still feel guilty every time a crumb of food enters my mouth, I have this weird paranoia that everyone is watching when I eat and that all they think is that I’m fat and of course I’d be eating now. and that’s why I can’t be the only one who eats when I’m with friends, everyone needs to eat so I don’t feel so disgusting I guess?

the few months after I stopped cutting and shit were hard but i was in a pretty good mind set, I think January 2016 was the best I’ve ever been, but as expected it didn’t last. and don’t get me wrong, i cherish the fuck out of the good times I have in my life, I’m not some dick that dismisses all of the good things and just says im a basket case with no hope or friends. I love the people in my life with all of my heart, and I love the good times we have and the good things that happen. but I’ve never been able to discuss and move past all of the bad things. it seems like I’m being told to just push it back farther and farther because they don’t want to have to deal with it right now. and i could be wrong, and for some of those people I am wrong. but again, their responses to whenever I do open up are disheartening, and some don’t mean to come off that way but it persists. which makes me question why do I even bother. see, this a good platform for me to vent because it’s just that, I don’t need anyone to reply and say sorry or tell me I’m wrong, it’s just here and I got it out. that’s all I’ve been trying to do.

I’ve really never wanted any advice, i know what I need to do and what’s right and what’s wrong, its an ongoing battle for me, and I just needed someone to listen. and that never happened, there was always competitive comparisons, always criticism, always gaslighting, always dismissive. And maybe it’s because when I actually try to TALK, I freeze up and can’t say what I need to in the right way. but still! More than half the time I open up, I just get more reasons to shut back down. back to self love and shit (sorry), I’m trying to love myself despite what it sounds like. just because a big part of me only holds dislike for myself, doesn’t mean there isn’t a part that just wants to love. it’s just been years of these expectations and standards forced down my throat to the point where quite honestly, I’m fucking confused I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t

I’m not gonna get into relationships for the soul fact that I could go on for days about them and this is post is way longer than I anticipated already SO. That’ll be another day (probably tonight since I’m to the point of just not giving a fuck and dishing out every emotion I’ve felt in the last 5 years)

and again back to self love, lately, i don’t weigh myself because I know that if I do, I’ll get depressed and obsessive again and I really can’t deal with it now. I hate my stomach first and foremost. that’s literally the main thing that I just want to cut off my fucking body. i half the time can’t even look at myself because I’ll just get stuck in one of those fuck you miah states. and to address something real *quick*, I don’t need the, “well stop complaining and do something about it” BITCH I AM. I am actually doing everything for it!! but my shitty brain doesn’t let me see progress, for all i know I could have lost 30 lbs and still think I look exactly the same (and part of the reason why I chose yoga was because it all stems from your core so it’s always engaged…and it’s hot yoga so I sweat out at least a pound every time I go, and I went every day last week) i dunno why I can never see positive changes, but when I lost all that weight back in 2014, I didn’t even go down a bra size, let alone pant size and that really fucked me up. It was weird having people compliment me and say how good i looked but still felt the same size. I don’t get it, I could see the numbers go down but my eyes never saw a damn change on myself. Imagine losing 100lbs and still being the same pant size. And I did think we’ll maybe it’s because I still hated myself and was losing weight in an u healthy way but even now with me doin all these great things for my body, I see no change at all. I jus wanna be healthy now, not skinny.

^^talking about my body is my least favorite thing to do so if you have anything to say about it please just don’t, I’m jus here to get this shit off my chest.

I think im just about done, currently brainstorming to see if I missed anything or if I want to touch back on certain things. All that’s left I think is relationships?? So maybe I will write a bit about it? ….I wrote about it then deleted all of it because without going into brutal detail there’s no reason for it to be shoved into this.

I’m pretty sure I’m finished, I may or may not ever check back in here to update or whatever. I guess we’ll see.

If you made it to the end, congrats you spent 15 to 25 minutes reading an absolute mess of a post. Hopefully you could keep up with all my jumping around.