#ill never pass up the opportunity to make new ocs ive already made like 4 new fallout ones 😅

[citrlet]

last night i actually got back into writing after probably a year? of not having any motivation to and it's so exciting but god i'm so rusty akfjdks

[caradhinaa]

Under The Weather

so this is like,,,,, the first fic i’ve ever written dskhfjksdf. ive been kinda sick the past few days and that naturally inspired me to make my own oc suffer with me. ive been playing around with the idea of starting a writing blog (which would probably just be this blog lmfao) but im still not sure!!! i’ll see how i feel about it!! i just kinda wrote this for fun and thought i might as well post it lmao. 

Mornings.

Mornings were the favorite part of Emi’s day; the peaceful, low-key energy, the crisp air, breakfast. Especially now more than ever, since she gets to wake up in a building full of her closest friends. She’s been loving everything about her new life in the dorms.

At least, until right now.

Waking up to the familiar, yet despised sound of her alarm, she could already tell today was gonna suck ass. Her stuffy nose and pounding head could confirm. Emi wasn’t one to get sick very often, but when she does, it sure isn’t a pleasant awakening. She considered going back to sleep, but figuring that someone would eventually come check on her anyway, she ignored her body screaming at her to stay in bed and fought her way up.  Guess she didn’t love everything about the new dorms.

Heading to the bathroom and brushing her teeth, she could see that her face had decided to become a few shades paler. She also took note of the lovely bags under her eyes. And couldn’t she at least have brushed her hair? Frankly, she looked like she’d died and came back to life against her will. Well, that wasn’t too far off.

As she dragged her way into the commons area, dreadfully breathing through her mouth, she noticed that it was particularly difficult to walk in a straight line. Maybe no one will notice. She’s a wild card, after all. Maybe they’d just think she stayed up all night studying or something.

...Yeah, sure. She doesn’t even study during the day.

A weak chuckle escaping her mouth, she finally made it down the stairs and into the commons area, being greeted with the usual “good morning”s from her fellow classmates. She tried her best to act as if her head wasn’t about to split open, and headed into the kitchen. She’d begun to take out a box of cereal before she paused and put it back, the unpleasant feeling in her stomach suggesting that she should maybe just grab a glass of water.

“Not eating breakfast...?”

Emi turned her head to the familiar voice. Of course, she’d expected Shouto to show up sooner or later, but did he have to be the first person she talked to? He stood at the other side of the island counter with his usual neutral expression, eyeing the box she’d put away. She should have tested her voice first. Praying that she had a voice at all, she cleared her throat.

“Nah, I’m not real hungry this morning,” she rasped, cringing at the quality of her vocal chords. She grabbed a glass and went over to fill it with water.

Shouto blinked. “I’ve never seen you skip a meal before,” he watched as she missed the water dispenser on the fridge with her glass before immediately trying again. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Aww, are you worried about me? That’s so sweet,” she giggled, sticking her pinky out and taking a sip of the room-temperature water. Forgot the ice.

“You just seem a little off. It seemed like common courtesy to ask,” he explained, making his way around the island to her. “Also, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m fine! I’m still just a little groggy is… all…” her voice trailed off as she felt a hand press against her forehead. A moment of awkward silence passed before Shouto narrowed his eyes and spoke again.

“You’re hot.”

“Wow, Todo. A little forward, don’t you think?”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed if you feel sick?” He removed his hand, “You’re gonna make it worse if you push yourself. And you’re probably contagious,” he added, taking a step back.

Emi groaned in response. She guessed that he’d figure it out pretty quick, but she wasn’t expecting him to be such a nag about it. Despite that, she couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed.  

“I guess, but what would I do-- just stay in the dorm all day?” she paused, taking another sip of water, “That sounds so boring…”

Shouto opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the booming voice of their class representative.

“Everybody! It is now 8 O’Clock! I suggest you all get ready for school!”

Emi sighed in relief. “Welp, you heard him! I’m gonna go get dressed and all that.” She put down the water glass and walked past the boy, “See you in class!”

Shouto stood for a moment, watching her quicken her pace up the stairs (rather clumsily, might he add) and turn the corner, out of his sight.

…

The second Emi heard the words “combat training” come out of her teacher’s mouth, she thought back to what Shouto said to her that morning.  

And she thought about how much smarter it sounded now.

So, here she was, on the training field with her hero costume, her merciless symptoms, and her crippling regret. The sun was beating down on her already too warm body, and the air making her eyes and nose sting even more. She did this to herself; it was too late to back out now.

Today’s lesson was one-on-one combat. One person carries a fake knife and tries to pin the other one down. Though, in this state, she wishes it were a real one. She closed her eyes and picked a number out of the box that would determine her fortunate partner, who was sure to win the exercise with ease. Opening her eyes, the number 4 was printed on the small sheet of paper.

The unlucky number, of course.

Her eyes scanned around the area for the person with the matching slip. When the second 4 caught her attention, she looked up to see a pair of bi-colored eyes already making their way to her. Oh, can’t she catch a break? This will hardly be a fight, but more like a lesson.

“Hey. Still feeling ‘groggy?’”

“As a matter of fact, I am.” she fanned her face with the 4 in her hand.

Shouto hummed. “Well, I won’t say I told you so,” he held up the fake knife that was passed out, examining it. “I’m sure you’ve already thought it, anyway.”

“Hey, don’t give yourself too much credit,” Emi smirked, “I can still knock that knife out of your hand.”

“I wonder.”

And with that, Shouto raced toward Emi with his hand clenched around the knife. He thrusted it towards her face, but she was quick to pull it to the side. She grabbed his wrist and attempted to loosen his hold on the weapon. Shouto used this opportunity to kick her feet from beneath her and pinned her on her back, knife to her neck.  

Emi grinned. “Well? Stab me, coward.”

“It’s a fake knife.”

“You can still try?”

Shouto lifted the knife and rose to his feet. He held out his hand and helped Emi up as well. She giggled, half embarrassed, half amused.

She rolled her head around, stretching her neck. Maybe this was helping, in a weird way. It was at least something to keep her mind off her sick mess of a body. Her head didn’t seem as heavy as before, and it had stopped pounding.

In fact, it seemed to be getting lighter.

“Hey, are you listening?”

Lighter…?

“Koemo--!”

All at once, the ground began to rush closer to her face. Hands moving under her arms caught her before she could hit the dirt, but she couldn’t seem to open her eyes.

Or want to.

…

Emi shifted. She felt soft sheets beneath her, and a pillow under her head. She can’t exactly remember what happened, but she didn’t really want to get up to find out.

At least, until she noticed someone sitting next to the bed.

“Hey. You awake?”

She groaned sleepily in response. She started to slowly sit up in the bed, stretching her sore muscles. She gave a look around the room. The nurse’s room. On her other side, Shouto with a book in his hand. She yawned, wondering how long she’s been-

Shouto.

She blinked twice. “Have...have you been waiting here this whole time…?”

Shouto folded the corner of the page he was reading and closed the book. “Yeah. I didn’t have a sparring partner, after all.”

Emi only stared. He probably had to bring her here, too. She’d feel bad if she didn’t feel disgustingly ill. But even more than that, she felt… happy?

“How do you feel…?”

Happy that someone noticed, even though she was trying to hide it.

“Kinda like ass.”

He huffed, his lips curving up ever so slightly. “Well, can you stand? I’ll take you to the dorms.”

“Oh, you don’t have to escort me,” she smirked, “I know where they are.”

Shouto’s chair squeaked a bit as he got up onto his feet. “Sure, but what will you do if you faint again?”

Emi chuckled. She sat up and turned to the side of the bed. She stretched one more time before getting up.

Shouto opened the door of the clinic. “If I get sick tomorrow, I’m blaming you, you know.”

She hummed as she walked through the door.

“That’s your own fault.”