#worst part is my grades are starting to slip. even when I was like this before I never let my grade in any of my classes drop below a 90

[enteragoodnamehere]

I was feeling really sad a while ago and it didn’t go away but then my period started and I was like okay thank god it’s just a menstrual cycle thing. but now my periods over and I’m still feeling like shit so I think I’m just really super depressed again

[feyhunter78]

Flowers on Your Doorstep

Art cred: Panprika (y'all have no idea how long I searched for this pic, I was losing my mind)

Description: After you bail on lunch, Miguel finds himself seeking advice on how to deal with your cold shoulder.

You’re ignoring him, phone on do not disturb, dodging him on campus and you’re even skipping lab. Of course, the TA said you emailed saying you were sick, but Miguel doesn’t believe it.

He knows you, knows you always push through, that you never skip lab because you’re too afraid you’ll miss something important, and your grades will slip. You’re not sick, this is something else. Something that you won’t tell him, and Brett won’t tell him either.

So, he turns to his next best option, Mina. She’s laying on Gabriel’s bed like she owns it, phone in hand, the room smelling faintly of weed. First, she glares at him, and then clicks her tongue disappointedly, sighing, “you just had to go running around with Ava again, huh?”

“Bro really?” Gabriel groans from his desk, spinning around in his chair to face Miguel. “She’s the fucking worst.”

“She just needed someone to talk to, she doesn’t trust anyone else, I was just being nice.” He says, massaging his temples as Mina continues to click her tongue, the tsk, tsk, tsk sound starting to give him a headache.

“You know what she does to you.” Mina chides, pushing herself up into a sitting position.

He does, he knows it all too well. Ava brings out the worst in him, she corrupted him, as you might say. But she’s still a person he once cared about, even if she stomped on his heart and threw it in a gutter, all the while laughing with her new boyfriend.

“She’s changed, she and Kyle broke up.” He shouldn’t be defending her, he knows that, but there’s still a part of him that wants to prove it wasn’t a mistake to love her.

“Oh again? What is this the twelfth time? I’m sure it’ll last this time around.” She deadpans, raising a perfectly arched brow at him.

Gabriel snickers, then gives Miguel a half-hearted apologetic look.

“What does this have to do with y/n, Mina?” He says tersely, running a hand through his hair, frustration burning, licking at his heels. He just wants to leave, to find you and beg you to tell him what he did wrong.

“She likes you, dumbass, and then she found out you’ve been hanging around Ava, while you’ve been hanging with her. What do you think that looks to her?” Mina asks, her expression making it clear to him that the answer should be obvious, and that she thinks he’s stupid.

He’s going to be sick.

“I—I would never—it’s not like that, I don’t want Ava back, I was just trying to be nice, I didn’t think…”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Mina scoffs, going back to her phone and tapping it a few times.

His stomach churns as he thinks back to earlier this week, the way Ava dragged him away, distracted him with stories from back when they were dating, good ones, funny ones. It was only meant to be a short conversation, you were supposed to get lunch, like always, he wanted to get lunch with you, like always.

He can picture it now, you hiding behind the Sig Epp letters watching him, watching the way Ava still didn’t understand boundaries and put her hands all over him. He could hear the tears coating your voice when he called you, it was like a knife through his chest and he just wanted to go to you. Wanted to wipe away your tears and do something, anything he could, to make it better.

“Look Miguelito just apologize, maybe bring some flowers and wear that sad puppy dog look you’ve got perfected.” Gabriel chimes in, stretching his arms above his head, before standing and approaching him, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “You can never go wrong with flowers.”

Gabriel was wrong, very, very wrong.

You take the flowers Miguel offers you as he stands on your doorstep, patient, anxious, stomach still twisted in knots.

“Did Ava not want these or…?” You ask, inspecting the flowers with a detached look.

“No—no, I mean, they’re for you, only for you.”

“Oh, okay so she got her own, cool, cool.” You say, placing the flowers on the entryway table next to your door and crossing your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t get Ava flowers.”

“Okay.” You say, foot tapping against the wood laminate of your doorway.

“She’s my ex-girlfriend, we dated for a while, she cheated on me.” He admits in a rush.

Your frigid expression melts into something softer. “I—I didn’t know that.”

He rubs his neck sheepishly. “I don’t like to talk about it. It was a really rough time in my life. But her and I are over, I don’t have any lingering feelings for her.”

“Brett told me. He’s seen you and her together, both before we got close, and after…” You wrap your arms around yourself, your eyes downcast. “If you still have feelings for her, I get it, she’s gorgeous, and you guys have a lot of history.”

“I don’t have feelings for her, we broke up the summer before my freshman year here. She just transferred in at the beginning of this year, and she’s been having problems with her boyfriend. I guess she hasn’t really made any friends, so she’s been leaning on me.”

“And you’re too nice to say no to her.” Your voice is soft, tainted with sadness.

“I told her to find someone else, after you canceled lunch, she wanted to keep talking, keep flirting with me because she knew her ex would see us. I said no.”

You look up at him, half in hope, half in disbelief, it’s written all over your face. “Yeah?”

He nods.

You bite your lip then release it slowly, picking the flowers back up. “These are really pretty.”

He gathers his courage. “Just like you.”

A smile flits across your face. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression with Ava, I shouldn’t have left you stranded while I talked with her, we had prior plans, and I should have stuck to them.”

“It’s okay.” You tell him, holding the flowers to your chest.

He wants to ask you if what Mina said was true, if you feel the same way he does, but it feels wrong somehow. Like it would cheapen the moment.

“Do you want to come in and see our costumes for the dance?” You ask, taking a step back and allowing him entry.

Directly connected parts: Jealousy, Jealousy (previous part) and Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights (takes place after this current part)

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425

[shardechance]

𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔤𝔢 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩

ao3 link | playlist | detailed content warnings | masterlist

parts: 𝐈 𝐈𝐈 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐈𝐕 𝐕

pairing: feyre/mor

rating: explicit

wc: 7.9k (pt 1)

warnings: major character death, cannibalism

Self-proclaimed 'BFFs' and high school seniors Mor and Feyre have definitely had fights before, but none as bad as the night at the bar when Mor is forced to leave Feyre behind in the rather dubious hands of her distantly related cousin and wannabe rockstar. Mor fully expects to make it up to Feyre the next day, except her best friend doesn't show. Nearly one full week later, Mor is so overjoyed to see Feyre again that she is blind to all the strange new things about her crush--er, friend. Namely, that Feyre suddenly seems to have developed some rather peculiar tastes. That, and she's hot as hell.

[FREAK WEEK DAY 3 - PART 1]

read on ao3 or proceed below for small snippet.

“You think he’s bald?” 

The paper straw flattens between the press of Feyre’s lips, half soggy from how she keeps worrying it between her teeth. That, or the fact that it's been soaking up the same offensively flat Diet Coke for the last half hour since the band finished their set. They tried for something stronger, but the black crosses emblazoned on the backs of their hands were unfortunately doing their job of signaling to Jurian not to slip them any vodka, this time.

They’ve been watching the band pack away their instruments and file into the lounge behind the bar, a pitcher of beer and three pint glasses set out for them in a corner booth. A folded sheet of paper reading RESERVED in blocky script, sitting limply on the table.

Mor looks up from her phone, Instagram promptly forgotten in favor of whatever the hell caused Feyre to ask that question. “What?”

Rolling her eyes, Feyre nudges her chin towards the bar. The delicate twitch of one eyebrow has Mor turning, more bodily than she might like. There’s no such thing as subtlety in places like these. The guy in question looks even bigger up close—broad as he is tall, with arms thick as tree trunks and swirled with tribal tats. Mor struggles for his name, despite having just sat through their entire discography in a room with worse acoustics than their high school bathroom and blown-out speakers. 

“Under that beanie,” Feyre says, by way of explanation. The straw bypasses her lips entirely, and she irritatedly flings the limp wet thing from her glass to discard it on the sticky table. Probably not the worst thing that’s ever been placed on it. The nachos here have food poisoning written all over them. “He looks like he could be bald. Seems the type, you know? Like, did too many steroids on the high school wrestling team and now he’s paying the price?”

A reminder suddenly pings from her phone on the tabletop, interrupting a reel of someone from their year showing all the Homecoming dresses she decided not to buy. They’re all ugly, the dresses. Not that Mor’s is any better—the only one her dad had allowed her to buy. 

Ten minutes. Fuck.

“Feyre, for one second, can you be serious? My curfew is at eleven.” She doesn’t mean to snap, but Feyre knows how her dad gets. How strict he can be about grades and curfews. How little fucks he gives about everything else. 

“I don’t want to go just yet,” she whines, eyes following the unfathomably buff drummer back to his table and the two other guys sitting there. Mor watches as the big dude lines a shot in front of each of them, layered liquors starting to merge into a brown mush. They knock them back without so much as a wince. Mor is suddenly very grateful for her soda, even if it’s lost all the carbonation.

The only guy she recognises, Rhysand Sterling, catches them staring and waves. That quick flick of his wrist turns into a come over type gesture. Two fingers beckoning them forward. 

“You know him, right?” Feyre poses the question as if she doesn’t already know the answer. As if she hasn’t seen the one picture her father has of her in the living room. Taken at one of his firm’s Christmas parties, of course. Rhysand, a couple years her senior, had gone by Rhys back then. 

“Feyre, we have to go,” Mor reminds her, grabbing onto her wrist. She stares dejectedly at the side of Feyre’s face, deflating when she notes the way she seems to have perked up, eyes constantly flitting to the guy sitting at the table. Mor’s cousin. Twice removed, or something.

“It’s fine! We should just say hi!” She stands, neatly pushing in her stool but still well within Mor’s reach. She slips her hand into Mors, using it as leverage to tug Mor behind her, and crosses towards the booth. Maybe she notices how reluctant Mor is by the way she drags her feet, and Feyre offers the incentive, “Besides, it’ll drive Eris crazy.”

Oh, Mor doubts that very highly.

tag list: @shardminds @damedechance @velidewrites @melting-houses-of-gold @popjunkie42 @secret-third-thing @separatist-apologist @the-lonelybarricade @jon-snows-man-bun @iftheshoef1tz

[natalynsie]

The Noah Plan (Noco Oneshot)

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but everything Duncan’s saying is true.”

Gwen dropped into her chair next to Cody in French. It was a typical Wednesday, and Cody and Gwen just came from their History class.

Gwen didn’t like Cody at first. At all. Cody knew that. But he persevered (he didn’t leave her alone) and eventually she grew to tolerate him. And then be kind-of friends with him. Now Cody got to listen to her complaints about… everyone.

“Courtney has a major stick up her butt.”

Yup, there it was.

“Why do you say that?” Cody asked.

“She’s just so controlling about, well, everything! I can’t stand being her history partner. It’s all ‘Gwen we have to do our project on Jacques Cartier’, ‘Gwen, you have to indent exactly 1.25 centimeters so we’re all on the same page’, ‘Gwen, you have terrible handwriting’. Ugh, everything is her way or the highway.”

Cody and Gwen had the same History class, but seats were assigned. Their teacher promised to change them every quarter, and thankfully, it was close to ending. Cody was a social guy, but Ezekiel was impossible to talk to. And impossible to work with. His denial of everything related to prejudice of the early settlers meant they couldn’t do reports on 75% of events. And also, he had an eye on a classmate of his that he was hoping to sit next to.

“Settle down students,” the teacher called to the students.

Gwen lowered her voice. “And the worst part? She complains about how stuck up Noah is.”

Cody perked up. “Yeah?”

“She apparently shares every club with him. Model UN, Debate, Student Government, National Honor Society. I think that’s too many clubs, but whatever. Anyways, she’s always saying that he’s prudish abt fucking like… I don’t know nerd stuff. And she celebrates whenever he skips out on Student Gov. for Book Club.”

“What day is Book Club?”

“Uh, Wednesdays, why?”

“Do you think they’ll let me join?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“I mean if they’re halfway through the book.”

“Right. Well, I’m in Book Club and we’re not. You’re welcome to join, but since when did you read?”

“I like reading,” Cody dragged his eyes from the board to Gwen. “Always have.”

“...Right. I just joined for something to put on my college applications.”

“So mind if I join?”

“I guess not.”

“Sweet!” Cody exclaimed, a little loudly.

The teacher whipped her head around to face Cody, with a stern frown on her face.

Cody grinned sheepishly. “Désolé.”

That afternoon, Cody entered an English classroom where the Book Club met. There were probably 7 people in the room, not including the teacher. Cody took his seat next to Gwen. No sign of Noah.

After he sat down, the club began to discuss the first chapter of the book they started reading. The teacher had given Cody a copy to catch him up to speed, and Cody read the first three pages before he got bored. How did people read this boring junk for fun? Once he hit the fourth page, he blankly stared at the words and counted down the minutes until he would leave. He probably wouldn’t come back. Noah didn’t even show up.

Cody took a glance at the clock- 3:29.

Then the door creaked open.

Cody turned his gaze towards the door to see Noah slipping in. He sat himself in an empty chair next to some Grade 9 kid that Cody didn’t know.

Noah didn’t say much for the last 30 minutes. But at least he was there! Next week, Cody was going to talk with him.

But that did mean he had to read the book.

~~~

Noah wasn’t there next week.

Cody had read up to chapter seven, just for Noah to not show up. He felt annoyed, betrayed even. By a boy he didn’t even know.

He had spent his entire week thinking about what he would say and his strategies on how he would talk to Noah specifically. Well he didn’t actually know much about Noah. He knew that he was friends with Owen, and that he liked books, and that he was sarcastic. Cody had been working on his humor. It was going… well, maybe it’s good that Noah didn’t show up.

Cody walked out to meet Tyler, his ride to the mall. He pulled out his phone- as expected, no texts or calls.

“Hey, Cody!”

Cody looked up to see Owen running straight at him.

“Oh, hey Owen!” Cody waved as Owen approached. “It’s been too long man.”

Owen gave Cody a fist bump. “Yeah! We should totally hang out sometime. I don’t think we’ve properly hung out since summer.”

“Sure! I’m free-”

“Move it along, Lunchbox.”

Cody shot his head up. Owen was the one, the only, Noah.

“Noah! What do you think about Cody taking a ride with us?”

Noah cupped a hand around his ear. “Huh?”

“Would you mind-”

“I actually already have a ride,” Cody told Owen. But really, he wished he didn’t. “And I’m going to the mall, I have work today.”

“Oh, Noah too! He works at that bookstore on the third floor on weekdays, except for Thursday. I was going to drop him off and then go home. You can tell whoever’s driving you that you don’t need a ride.”

“I’m going with Tyler and he’s going to the same place, so I can’t tell him no now. I’ll see you later Owen.”

“Totally! Text me when you get off work, we can make plans.”

“Sounds good. See you man!”

Owen waved Cody as he walked over to Noah and away.

He works at that bookstore on the third floor on weekdays, except for Thursday.

New plan.

~~~

Cody decided he would stay at Book Club one more time before quitting for good. He couldn’t keep up with the reading anymore. And Noah wasn’t even there most of the time. He thinks.

And maybe Noah would show up if he stayed one more time.

Lucky for Cody, he was right.

This time, Cody made sure to make a few comments on the book. He got too nervous to make any jokes, but Noah nodded in agreement to one of his opinions.

That counted as a win.

That Friday, Cody was ready. He knew Noah had work that afternoon. He was going to go straight up to him and start a conversation. About books. Because Noah liked books.

In History, Cody gazed from his seat in the middle to Noah in the front. He had nice hair. It looked soft and sleek. He took really good care of it. In STEM, he took occasional glances backwards to see Noah staring boredly at the screen, eyes blinking slowly. And in English (where he sat next to Noah) he actually got to talk to him! It was rare that anyone was allowed to say a word in English, but peer review came in handy. He got to comment on Noah’s work, but it was kind of hard to find anything to comment on. It was too good.

Noah handed Cody his essay, margins filled with edits and suggestions. “Cool topic. But you have syntax issues.”

Cody’s eyes glanced over Noah’s edits and chuckled. But he did make the essay more readable.

Oh, to be an English person.

Before he knew it, school was over, and Cody was yet again bumming a ride with Tyler to the mall. He took a quick trip to visit Trent at his job at the record store, and after a while left to the bookstore.

He first stepped in, and scanned the cash register. Noah was behind the counter. He quickly averted his vision and decided to browse the selection.

First of all, he decided that he needed a nice book. One that would impress Noah. But one that he would still enjoy.

Then he was reminded that he didn’t like to read.

He moved from the Thriller section to the Non-Fiction section, and picked up a book on the history of Physics. He wanted to get a headstart since he planned on taking Physics for his last year. Plus, it would make him seem smart. He really needed that after what happened in English.

He went to the counter and placed the book down. Noah scanned it.

“Oh, hey Noah!” Cody said, acting like he hadn’t seen him earlier. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

Noah glanced up. “Yeah, hey. That’ll be $20.99.”

“Do you take Physics this year?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Cool, cool, I take Chemistry. I’m just trying to get a headstart for next year.”

“Good for you.”

Cody chuckled awkwardly. “Okay, I guess I’ll see you later Noah.”

“See you…” Noah snapped his finger in silence for a moment, “dude.”

Cody waved and left.

Well that was awkward.

It now hit Cody- Noah didn’t even know his name.

However, Cody was dedicated. Maybe going straight up to Noah wasn’t his greatest plan. He was going to find another way, and it was going to be through Owen.

[waffliesinyoface]

Anyways whoops I wrote a short thing. Whoops!! I wish I was able to focus on Hasami's actual story but no, my brain only wants to write dumb AUs instead. This may or may not get something added to it in the future!! Who knows!! Not me!!

Hasami looked into the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her – a long mop of shaggy brown hair, tanned skin, canines that were just a little too sharp to be normal, and a pair of blood red inverted fang marks on her cheeks.

Fang marks that she’d been gifted in her last life.

Apparently, the Inuzuka Clan Jutsu wasn’t just skin deep. She was marked as one of them, down to her very soul.

Well. It was nice knowing she didn’t lose everything this time. Silver lining, she supposed.

------

The first time she’d been reborn, it was a confusing and disorienting affair, that left her with more questions than answers. She’d chalked it up to the general weirdness of the Elemental Nations, and assumed that the reason she’d remembered her past life was because the Fourth had distracted the Shinigami and her soul had managed to slip past without getting rinsed clean. It had driven her a little mad, trying to come to terms with an entire lifetime of memories shoved into her head before she could walk.

The second time was less confusing, but far more stressful. Up until she’d remembered, she was a normal little girl. It wasn’t until the first time she’d seen her own face and recognized those clan markings that the memories had crashed back into her head.

She wondered what her parents must’ve thought, that the sight of her own face had reduced her to tears.

-------

The worst part of reincarnating again wasn’t the fact that she had lost her friends, her family, and her teammates – well, okay, it was the worst part, but it was something she could carefully box up in her mind and not think about – but had more to do with the fact she had spent literal decades using her own body as a weapon, every inch of her body dedicated to perfect lethality. And now she was, once again, a squishy toddler who needed afternoon naps.

To put it simply, she was bored out of her goddamn mind.

She couldn’t even take her mind off of it with chakra training, because chakra didn’t exist here. Or, at least, her body wasn’t capable of utilizing it. The Tree of Life had never landed on this planet, and as a result, humanity had never developed chakra networks.

When she’d been reborn in the elemental nations, chakra had never seemed like something new or intrusive; it was simply a part of her. The fact that she could remember a life without chakra made it a bit easier to locate when doing the academy exercises that taught students how to start molding jutsu, but it just felt natural, like stretching a muscle she’d never realized she had. Going back to a life without chakra, however…

She just felt empty.

-------

It wasn’t until she was nearly four years old that she realized where, exactly, her soul had ended up this time. In her defence, while Konoha was immediately distinctive, her new home was much less so, unless one paid really close attention to the wildlife.

Look, it’d been ages since she’d played any of the games, she could be forgiven for not immediately recognizing things like Zigzagoon. It wasn’t until a trainer passed through town with a Skarmory, of all things, before she realized they were anything other than weird looking tanuki.

Vendanturf town wasn’t exactly bustling with exotic and interesting pokemon, after all.

-------

In hindsight, Hasami was probably a… difficult… child. Chakra or no chakra, child or not, she was still, at her core, a shinobi. In her last childhood, she’d lived in a town that had architecture expressly designed to facilitate rooftop travel, and had gone to a school where schoolyard fights were not only encouraged but graded. In that kind of environment, she was seen as a completely average ninja child.

To the people of Hoenn, however, she was a chaotic little monster who climbed onto people’s houses for fun and responded to classmates teasing her about her fang marks by breaking their noses.

Needless to say, the teachers at Mauville Elementary had rather politely asked Hasami’s mother if she wouldn’t perhaps be more suited to homeschooling, instead.

------

“Ne, Hasami, come look what I found at the market today!”

I got up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen. Verdanturf wasn’t quite as small as it had been in the games, but it was still tiny enough that if you wanted anything more than the essentials, you needed to visit one of the neighboring cities. Now that mom had determined I was old enough to not “burn the house down” while she was gone, I only bothered tagging along when she decided to make the trip to Slateport, because that was at least interesting. What could she have found in Rustboro, of all places?

“Here, catch!” As soon as I rounded the corner to see what was up, she tossed something at me. I grabbed at it before I’d even gotten a good look at it. As soon as my fingers touched it, it was obvious – grapefruit sized, round, and metallic – it was clearly a pokeball.

But then I actually looked at it and realized why, exactly, she’d thought it was interesting. It was a Timer Ball. Instead of the classic red and white, it was white with a stylized knob on the top, and, even more importantly, decorated with a pair of sharply curved red triangles emblazoned on the sides.

Without even meaning to, I reached up and brushed the marks decorating my own cheeks.

“Mm~! I thought you’d like it. Apparently, Devon only came out with them recently? The clerk said something about them being a timed exclusive…? Besides, I know ten is a bit more traditional, but…” she reached down to tousle my hair, “since you keep sneaking out to play in the woods, I’d feel a bit safer if you had a pokemon partner, okay?”

I blinked at that. Huh. I’d assumed that most people got their starters from their local professor but… well, in retrospect, there were far too many ten-year-olds for that to be the case.

“Wait, but,” I started, “don’t you need a pokemon to catch a pokemon? What if it breaks out?”

“Hasami.” She smiled, “you don’t think I just picked it up at the store, did you? Go on, click the button.”

I stared at the timer ball again. It hadn’t changed, but… it felt even heavier, knowing there already was a pokemon inside. I swallowed, nervous. Which one had she picked…?

I pressed the button, and was momentarily blinded by the flash as the pokemon inside was released.

I overheard mom stifling a giggled as I blinked the tears out of my eyes. ‘Note to self. Aim away from the face, next time.’ Then I loved down, and…

There was a small grey wolf sitting at my feet. A poochyena.

My breath caught in my chest, for just a moment. I’d never – there was no way she could’ve known what it meant to me. I could never truly replace her, but, just for a moment, it was like I was meeting my partner for the first time all over again.

And then it decided to jump up into my arms and cheerfully start covering my face with doggy slobber.

“Well, look at that! Friends already. I’m glad – my partner decided to scratch up my face on our first meeting.” Saying this, she shot a rueful look at Luna, the greying Delcatty currently snoozing under the table. “Glad I don’t have to bust out the antiseptic.”

I tried, unsuccessfully, to pry the poochyena off me, but my heart wasn’t really in it. “Maybe a towel, though?”

Mom outright laughed at that. “Maybe, maybe. So, any thoughts as to what you’ll name her?”

“Kagemaru,” I said. “Her name is Kagemaru.”

She wasn’t the same, but… she was close. And for the first time in eight years, I felt something I’d carried inside me relax, and I was reminded of home.

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

part 7.

Zoe was starting to believe she was never NOT anxious, her natural resting state was just a constant low-grade anxiety attack and she picked the skin around her nails every second of every day.

At least, that's how the last 48 hours felt.

She was currently waiting for Cillian as he went to the bathroom; after a couple beers each (no seltzers) the tab was paid and the pair decided to call Cillian's driver to get home and just get their cars the next day. Zoe hoped the photographers weren't waiting for them outside, but she prepared for the worst.

The entire time at the bar Zoe was treading lightly. Something obviously set Cillian off, and she didn't want to see if this gets worse. However, Cillian seemed fine at the bar, and kept asking if Zoe was okay because she was suddenly so quiet. Sorry, didn't fasten my seatbelt for this rollercoaster i was forced on, Zoe thought.

"Ready?" Cillian said, emerging from the bathroom and walking to where she was sitting. She nodded, stood up and Cillian put her hand on her lower back as he lead her to the door.

She stepped outside and found the photographers waiting for them.

"Where's your driver?" Zoe said, turning to face Cillian.

"Right over here, this way" He said, putting his hand on her back once again and lead her to the black car waiting a few cars up.

"Hey John, this is Zoe" Cillian said to the man in the driver's seat. The Driver smiled as he held the back door open for them. "Hello Mr. Murphy, and very nice to meet you Zoe. I hope you guys had a great evening" He said as they slid in. Zoe smiled.

"Hi John. Nice to meet you, we did.. thanks again so much for picking us up"

"Ah, that's my job, Mr. Murphy makes it easy; I'm happy I didn't know him in his early 20's... I'm still picking him up from bars every now and then, but at least they're at a reasonable time of night" He laughed. "not that I wouldn't, by the way. Just appreciate the latest I've ever picked you up from a bar is maybe midnight"

"John... Please stop calling me Mr. Murphy. I've said it every time you HAVE picked me up" He said, rolling his eyes.

"no can do sir." John smiled, looking at them in the rear view mirror.

Zoe liked John. He seemed genuine, or at least that's what she picked up in the 30 second conversation she had with him.

Cillian took out his phone and saw him answer some text messages.

Once I get home, I can take a shower and relax. put on sweats. wash my face. Almost home, Zoe told herself. This was way too much socializing for her.

after a few minutes of silence, Zoe saw Cillian put his phone back in his pocket and put his hand on her thigh.

oh.

"what are you doing?" Zoe said before she realized what she was saying.

"What? I can't put my hand on my girlfriend's leg?" Cillian said.

"But I'm not -" Zoe started, but stopped as soon as Cillian squeezed her thigh. He was motioning with his eyes towards John, who was still driving.

"oh.. uh, sorry." Zoe said. She pouted internally. I don't want to lie to John. I like John.

Cillian's hand moved from her thigh to her balled up fist in her lap. She slowly opened her hand and let him slip his into hers. He noticed her cuticles - all picked apart, red and raw - and ran his thumb softly over them.

Cillian didn't say anything, but he understood. Deep down, he felt horrible. He knew how he was acting towards her, like a complete asshole. Zoe was getting the brunt end of all of his emotions from the divorce and that wasn't fair, or right. He knew she was dragged into something she didn't want to do, and not only that, but be put under a microscope. He's been an actor for decades, he's not exactly used to this but he knows what to expect and how to carry/handle himself when he's out in public. She's been doing this for 12 hours. A lot of pressure in a short amount of time.

Cillian brought her hand to his lips and kissed her hand softly.

"I'm sorry" He mumbed.

"that's the second time you apologized today, just so you know" Zoe mumbled back.

"This building up on the right on the corner, Miss Zoe?" John interrupted.

"Yes, that's me, thank you so much John" Zoe said as the car slowed to a stop. Zoe pulled her hand from Cillian and opened the door. She got out and started walking up the walk, and she faintly heard Cillian said "one minute" or something that.

She turned around and found him walking up behind her.

oh NO, Zoe immediately thought. Panic. I DON'T HAVE AN AIR CONDITIONER AND IM PRETTY SURE THERE'S A BRA ON THE LIVING ROOM FLOOR AND DIRTY DISHES IN THE SINK.

"Zoe" Cillian said, bringing her out of her mind and back to the present.

"Thanks for today Cillian, I had fun" Zoe said, half true and half a lie. She DID have fun.. the beginning half.

"no you didn't" Cillian said, sighing.

"No, I enjoyed lunch. but I'm not sure what happened once we left. you snapped."

"can I come in? i don't know if I want to have this conversation on the steps outside with photographers behind me" Zoe said.

"My apartment's a mess" Zoe said.

"Isn't everything a mess at this point?"

author's note: I'm picturing John as Joseph from Princess Diaries. I also went to end this by saying "I don't make the rules" but... I kind of do. so. John. Joseph from princess diaries. one in the same, leather coat and all. tysm

tags: @lau219 @wolfieellsworld

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Part Five

You remember what I told you about the Inciting Incident? Well, this is where it matters.

Because that alarm clock?

It sucks. 

Stu was right, and I couldn't tell when the light got bright. I am stupid-lucky my brain wakes up on its own, shouting something is wrong! It takes me thirty solid seconds of staring at the display to figure out what 'something wrong' is. 

I am very late.

I freaking run to Beanevolence, throbbing head down, gulping on air to keep from puking because I am so very hungover, and hoping I don't bowl someone over. I'm envisioning a line of pissed off suits waiting by the door, tapping expensive shoes on the filthy pavement. Or Hadi writing out a pink slip. She'd do it, too, even if she had to go buy the pink paper specifically for the dramatic gesture. 

Rounding the corner, I'm both relieved and horrified to see there's only one person waiting. Shit. I've totally screwed the morning rush. That's hundreds of bucks Hadi is out.

Then my stomach swoops, because it’s him. The guy I’d thought for a hopeful split-second had been at the bar last night. 

Now is not the time to be kicking yourself.

Now is the time to open the goddamn door, and make some coffee, and steal some of the weapons-grade painkillers Hadi keeps in her desk. Hangover Headaches are the worst. The fact that I did it to myself makes it even worse-er. Worser? Whatever, I hurt too much right now to care whether that's a real word or not. 

He’s in his usual uniform: a tailored-within-an-inch-of-its-life waistcoat, button-down, and dress pants combo, this time the yellow-and-hunter green check. Flattering, but not my fave. The newspaper under his arm is in French today. He looks slightly desperate for his caffe tobio. That’s a short pull of espresso doppio'd into drip-coffee. Hard core. If I didn't know what he was, I'd say it was a macho drink ordered to intimidate, like dudes who eat hot sauce that's too spicy to look cool. But who knows what caffeine does to people like him? Maybe coffee alone isn't enough to give him his morning perk. Maybe he just likes the taste.

"Sorry," I say, as I swoop in.

The split-tongue steps back, gesturing to the door. This close to him, I can tell he's got that weird aftershave on. It's smoky-amber, with musky deep undertones of fermenting grapes that one field trip too many to peninsula wineries has tattooed on my brain. 

"You're late—" he starts, and I shouldn't call him a split-tongue, even in my own head. He doesn't lisp. 

What he does do is talk in a skin-tinglingly precise accent that’s British in the vowels and hard Canadian on the consonants. It’s arresting, and lyrical. He even rolls his 'r's a little and, okay, I have wondered how you get a forked tongue to do that. The point is, it's the kind of accent no one else has had in decades. Maybe centuries, I don't know. 

I mean, I have no idea what the dude's name is, let alone his age. Kind of a rude thing to ask. 

"I'm aware," I grunt.

"Allow me—" It takes me a second to realize he's trying to get at the door to, what, open it for me? Like some sort of romantic hero?

Oh, no.

No.

That's cute.

That will not do.

I can feel his body heat , and my brain is seriously not online enough to separate last night's fantasies from reality, and arrggggh. 

"I got it," I say, a bit stronger than is polite. 

His eyes snap wide. This close, the sunflower yellow of them is flecked with sparks of warm amber. He blinks a few times, the gold-leaf freckles that dance across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose getting lost in a mortified flush. 

Shit, I'm being an asshole. 

"Sorry," I say again. "Can you just… let me actually open first?"

He stands there, all handsome and forlorn. "I thought you might be ill—" 

I drag my under-caffeinated gaze from his mouth—this close I can see that the upper peak of his lips are so perfectly shaped they look like they've been tattooed there. I don't think I've ever seen his elegant face composed into anything except a politely thoughtful expression of near-nothingness, sort of like if resting bitch face had a refined older brother. But now he looks hang-dog.

I want coffee. 

I want him to back off. 

(I want to kiss him.) 

I'm so hungover. 

He is so pretty in the morning light.

I'm being so uncooly feral. 

What is wrong with me today? I bet if I'd actually gotten laid last night I wouldn't be staring at him like he's the last donut. 

"Fine, come in."

He heads for his usual front corner table. He must know he looks good sitting there. Possibly he likes this table because he likes his back to the wall, and a full view of the street. Hadi painted the support columns of the old black building the same blazing bronze as her logo, and they do frame the view nicely. And him. Or maybe he just likes the warmth from the windows—it could be a cold-blooded lizard thing. But honestly, I really think he's doing it just to torment me.

'Cause when the sun hits the front of the building just right, it sparks off his spun-copper hair, lines his high cheekbones and beaky nose in gold, gilds his shining freckles, and lends a flush of warmth to his otherwise cream-pale skin. 

(What? I’m still a writer at heart. I’ve already decided exactly how I'd describe him on paper. Don’t judge me.)

God, I'm thirsty. 

I lie to myself and pretend I mean I need something to drink. 

The fact that I can almost hear the syrupy anime love theme every time I look at him is the unfairest kind of bullshit imaginable. I am a trashperson, lusting after him when the most we've ever spoken before today was the time he miraculously asked for a second caffe tobio (he'd had bruises under his eyes like thumbprints. I'd wanted to ask him if he was okay, but he was back to his table so quick and—) 

Maybe Gem is right and I do need to lay off the romance novels. 

(Never.) 

Thirsty. Focus on the coffee.

Right. 

Maybe I need a glass of ice-water instead. 

Maybe just a whole-ass cold shower.

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[crvstybowlofcereal]

ok i'm just gonna cut to the chase

this is that personal post i was talking about last night. this could be triggering for some people, even as i'm writing this i'm not sure how much detail i'm going to go into, but i will be talking about eating disorders. please read with caution, and stop if you're not in the headspace.

i'm trying not to make this longer than it needs to be, or super triggering, so i'll be sparing details. besides, i'll probably talk more about this stuff on my sideblog.

i first developed an eating disorder in 7th grade, around 12 years old. When I graduated 8th grade i felt really out of control in my life, and it really took hold. 14-15 i was at my worst, it totally consumed my life, i was so obsessed with food, control, and my body.

it had always been kinda on and off until i got to highschool, so like, 14 and a half? and it was a full time thing from there really. partially because of the people in my life. or at least one person. i have very conflicting feelings about my relationship with that person.

anyways, when i turned 16 i decided i wanted to get better, and i started putting in the work. since i decided to stop letting myself spend all my time body checking and fixating on food, I started looking for other forms of entertainment in my freetime, which led me to learning about witchcraft and paganism and it helped me realize a lot about my religious beliefs. (i had struggled a lot with my religion growing up, and finally admitted to myself at 14 that i really had never believed in God as far as Christianity was concerned)

some of the biggest parts of my spiritual belief that really helped me in recovery was that i feel that nature is sacred and inherently beautiful, and, well, i'm nature. even if i don't like the way that i look there's an inherent beauty of my body existing in whatever state it does when i honor my needs. and with this, combined with active self love, i learned to love my body again. how to feel good in my own skin. how to dress myself to feel confident while acknowledging that just because some clothes don't look good on me, my body still isn't the problem.

but recovery isn't linear, and sometimes its way harder than others, and i've definitely slipped in to relapse so many times since I was 16 that i lost count. and sometimes it was really bad. but i always picked myself up after a couple weeks at most and got back to active recovery.

it really really sucks, when one moment recovery is easy, you don't even think about it anymore, you love your body, you love life, you don't worry about food, and then the next moment you're fighting yourself. it especially sucks because you KNOW it makes more sense to keep recovering, you can have 1000 reasons to keep going, but that one point in the back of your mind says "but i want to be thin" and they reach a stalemate. or worse, that little voice wins. and i find myself thinking, why is this so hard? it feels like a beast the size of a tree losing to a little bug. it's humiliating in a way.

that shame on its own of relapse would be enough to keep me from asking for help sometimes. i feel like i need to be able to pick myself up by the bootstraps and take care of shit on my own. but also when i'm in the relapse, sometimes i think "this is it now. i'm actually going to stay like this." it's comfortable, its a coping mechanism, i want "results." and i want to keep it a secret, so no one can stop me.

so um. thats some background context for you.

so basically i discovered Metal Family right at the end of february, and i hyper-fixated on that harder than anything i've ever fixated on things. sure, i've deep dived further on other things, or have been obsessed with them longer, but i was never so IMMERSED like i was with this. for 2 weeks i was in bed pretty much all the time just rewatching the show over and over and consuming fan content. i would do that for 13 hours straight on average. i couldn't pry myself away. i couldn't make myself watch other things. i neglected eating and sleeping for the most part. and when i finally snapped out of it and chilled the fuck out and calmed down to a normal fandom-level obsession, i realized that i had lost weight. during a time i would typically be gaining weight. and i sort of figured "wow great start! if i just go back to my old habits, i can lose so much more! i can be as thin as i used to be." (so toxic, why do you want me to suffer, brain?)

long story short I've been relapsed since then, and last night i was doing my favorite food fixation thing, watching people on youtube eat. and i was watching a wiead video by some girl who was in recovery and the way she talked about it was so much more personal to me and my beliefs than other recovery based channels. hearing her talk about missing out on fun moments in life, and looking back on celebrations and having it be shrouded in Bad Feelings about food and body image really struck a nerve with me. i already have so many photos of myself during "happy times" where looking back all i see is how fake my smile was. how miserable i was and how i hid it. how obsessed i was with restricting food and losing weight. i have things in my life coming up, and i really don't want that to be how i look back at them. I'm the maid of honor in my sisters wedding this september. for the last month or so i was so obsessed with losing weight to look good at the wedding (even though i already look good as fuck in that dress ngl) and now i'm so worried that i'll be too caught up in avoiding food to enjoy it, and that this wonderful day will be overshadowed by memories of how unhappy i was in life.

the biggest thing for me is imagining myself hosting events, particularly, i want to someday host a Dumb Supper for Samhain, (among many other traditions for many other pagan holidays) and it just won't happen if i'm worrying about food. partially because a lot of it, dumb supper in particular, focuses on food, but mainly because with my religious beliefs i feel super guilty when i relapse, and i feel like i don't deserve to engage in the religion. like by actively neglecting my body, i'm insulting the Goddess, and i shy away from my little religious routines and witchcraft (that i could be using to help myself feel better mentally) altogether.

i'm not really sure how to wrap this post up. i just needed to make it so i have people to do it for. because i can't do this if i hide away. i know myself well enough to know that if i think "no one knows anything about it" then i will think "might as well keep it a secret, don't bother them with it, and don't give them a chance to make you stop."

i'm going to document my recovery journey on my side blog @crustyisgettingbetter i'll include my religion and craft and how i use it to rebuild my relationship with my body, introspection in my relationship with food, exercise, and my body, challenging fear foods, etc. i want to be real and show the ups and downs of recovery, so i'll update with good days and bad days and everything in between. also my fitness journey. but that will be a much lesser part of the blog lol.

well that was long as fuck and super personal about probably the one thing i don't like sharing. TL;DR i'm recovering from an eating disorder and shit's hard.

y'all are more than welcome to follow the blog above and ask me questions and stuff about it there. now that this is out in the open, no more hiding. take care guys, ily.

time to actually be vulnerable for two seconds when i hit post..

[cursedzucchini]

Didn't plan on continuing, but here we are. Im bringing.... The plot of the second book Danny wrote!!

Yeah ik i should maybe work on the actual plot, but i got attached to Evelyn and that way to Danny who's writing her.

Anyway i might in the future post the third and last book in the series.

--

*i don't mention it in this, but the whole books there are Evelyn's parents being more and more against the supernatural and all. Like it's def there, not that much important but always coming back*

*another psa, i forgot to mention, the readers don't know how Evelyn died. In the book it's only written like "it was just one afternoon alone in my house, what's the worst that could happen? Well, my death, apparently. CHAPTER TWO Even if blue was my favorite color in life, i couldn't help but despise it in death. I mean, who's idea it was to make the fucking afterlife blue, huh??" Etc. There r only ever hints, which r vague enough*

The second book starts with a nightmare. There are two Evelyn's. Evelyn herself isn't sure which one is she and which one is the imposter and she wakes up in tears.

Following the formula of the first book the first chapter is trying to act similarly carefree, but it just doesn't has the same vibe. Evelyn gets stuck on several details which send her into panic, and the chapter ends with her hiding somewhere, finally saying out loud things aren't okay.

The second chapter is the real start to the book. Evelyn is monologuing about how she wished her life could be a book. How that way she could just skip the uncomfortable or boring or not quite right parts. In the end it's revealed she once again disasosciated and was brought back to reality by worried Greta. Evelyn is falling more and more into depression, so much it affect every moment of her day, and with her rising mental instability, her abilities get more and more unstable. Like she starts floating, or other stuff.

Her friends and sister are trying to help her, but it seems everything they do only pushes Evelyn away. Her grades start slipping, she eats and drinks less. There is deep sadness in the knowledge that she will never have the life she had. But she also mourns for her future and the people around her and everything. Just... Not herself. Also needless to say this is not healthy sadness and mourning. It doesn't help Evelyn, and if nothing happened she would continue being depressed and wouldn't get better.

A mysterious old friend of her parents is introduced. Evelyn doesn't focuses on him that much

Throughout all of this, she still keeps slipping into the realm at night. She walks around, of simply waits to wake up. She meets new people and finally has the realization they are ghosts. Evelyn still refuses to acknowledge she died. It's also important to mention, Evelyn only says (or thinks) she died once, and that is at the end of chapter one. Otherwise she only hints at it, or doesn't finish saying the sentence.

In the half of the book, she gets physically ill. She starts falling asleep and dreaming once again of two Evelyns. slowly they start talking (or arguing?) where one insults the other and sorta is just kinda what Evelyn is thinking unconsciously. The other Evelyn is trying to disprove the first, but slowly she becomes more and more quite. Evelyn still doesn't know which Evelyn is she (like she feels like she's both and none at the same time).

At this point it's 3/4 of the book, and Evelyn is more and more vocal about her hatred of herself (or what she became). She starts hearing a strange voice as she's journeying through the infinite realms, or even when there are two Evelyns. It comes to the point where she decides to tell her parents about her apparent supernaturality, not because she wants to be honest, but as a way to punish herself. She is stopped by Greta who breaks down and tells her how much she was worried for Evelyn and how she absolutely cut them off, and that's not fair.

Evelyn also breaks down and it ends up with the whole group (Evelyn, Daniele, Greta and Alan) cuddling and talking stuff out. Evelyn talks about how she hates what she is, and cant seem to find a way out of everything. They start talking about how everything will be better now that they're together.

That's when another Evelyn appears. She's taller, sharper and colder. She's Other.

Evelyn recognizes her, but before she can say anything, the other Evelyn grabs her neck and starts choking her. She introduces herself by the same name as our protagonist, but tells them to call her Eve.

Evelyn's friends don't know what to do, but try and help her, but they're quickly defeated. Eve starts talking about how undeserving Evelyn is if everything, spelling out every insecurity she ever had. It ends up with Eve resetting the timeline to the moment before she appeared and replaced Evelyn. Evelyn instead appears in a void.

Her existence at this point is the moment she died. She can't breath or blink, at this moment she is truly a ghost. [She noticed she also looks like one. Her normally dark hair is now whiter than the walls in the hospital. She's wearing what she died in, and while normally she's able to ignore it, as the realm is interesting enought by itself (didn't mention that, but Evelyn is very adamant Abt not acknowledging her problems)

She tries interacting with well anything, but only gets pieces of Eve's life. She understands something happened and her parents old friend is partially to blame? It's not very clear, and she can't quite concentrate.

Suddenly a voice appears (this voice could sometimes be heard in in the infinite realms). It tells her about what Eve did. It tells her about how Eve destroyed her original world. It tells her about how she has to die for her world to live.

And Evelyn thinks. She thinks about her friends and about how they promised each other to be strong. She thinks about how disappointed and sad they would be.

And she tells the voice to kill her.

But the voice doesn't. Sure, it's quite for a moment, but than speaks up, voice cold yet warm, harsh yet soft. It tells her they expected more. It tells her they expected nothing less.

And they drop her back into the real world.

After an eternity of no sensations, Evelyn is overhelmed. But more than she is disgusted. How could she just give up on her family and friends?

But she doesn't have time (she never does) and so she's already running to stop Eve.

They fight.

Eve has the upper hand the whole time, it's basically one sided beat down. Until Evelyn gets a lucky, her powers short out in the right moment, and she gets a lucky shot in. Eve is in a thermos Evelyn's parents developed.

The book last chapter starts w the sentence "everything is okay" and also ends w it. The summary of it, is basically "nothing is ok".

Sorta the vibe:

Everything is okay.

(Nothing is okay. She betrayed her friends, she's weak, she can't even think about parts of herself without feeling sick, everything is going so quickly, she's forgetting what is she forgeting--)

But everything is okay.

--

Yeah, i feel Dan is a really big plot point, so i made him part of the plot.

ALSO I GOT A QUESTION ABOUT TAGGING; someone told me to start using the dpxdc & dcxdp tags, bc if u use the ones w spaces, it shows on only dp & DC tags too.

But tbh when i tag without spaces, it def doesn't have that big of a reach, which i get that not as many peeps seem to know about it, but tbh my reach is getting smaller and smaller? Which might be my fault, but also I'm overall a lil confused. And also lots of people still use the tags w spaces, so huh?

[I'm gonna tag this w both of the tags, bc i really wanna know the answer, and i might be lil proud of the plot-]

You know what? Fuck it

DC x DP prompt #3

I think at least lmao.

Anyway! Jason starts making videos on YouTube for one reason or another (is really stressed, no one listens to his rants Abt books who cares). His content is mostly bad books he read or really really really long rants Abt pride and prejudice. Like 3 hours on one tiny detail he noticed on his 214th read through.

He's kinda popular, mostly bc his terrible books videos. He talks Abt the ones that made him the most mad, which coincidentally are mostly romance and supernatural. Like he's one of the well known figures in the supernatural romance critique group (whcih is pretty small, but well). (Also he doesn't show his face on camera, bc secret identity and stuff, it's just his voice over a video of something mundane, like the sky or a room in which is a fly or something)

And now this can go two ways, that i can think of (w dead on main in mind at least)

1) one day Jason finds a book which is supernatural romance and is actually good. It has a kidna cliche system for the supernatural stuff, but with a refreshing twist. The characters have depts and flaws, yet are still very likable. The plot is actually interesting and overall the story's theme is death, not belonging anywhere and overall stuff that is very close to Jason's heart. The story doesn't shy away from violence and it is suprisingly accurate.

(I'm.gonna reblog this w pretty long idea of what this book could be Abt, bc i don't wanna annoy ppl lol)

Anyway Jason kinda falls in love w it, and it becomes famous for being the first novel Jason rated positively or something.

Meanwhile Danny, who was told by jazz writing is good way to get his feeling out, and just wanted to make a quick buck, is really fucking confused how tf did his book become so popular and who tf is this nerd who rates books for a living.

(basically big fan Jason and suspicious/awkward Danny lmao)

2) there is a famous series on Jason profile. It's the worst fucking series he ever read and it's just fucking awful. All the characters are fucking terrible, always going on and on about one thing, the romance sucks in a way that isnt even funny. Jason would love to believe some wrote this as a joke, if it wasn't for the absolute cringefest this was, and it wasn't a whole ass series!! Like who writes 12 books for a joke?

Danny ducking Fenton that's who. Dude was so ducking annoyed at his rogues, he threatened them w writing a terrible romance novels abt them. The ghosts, knowing his terrible grade in literature backed off for a moment, before someone crossed the line. And write Danny did. It was the worst thing he had ever written, the love interest was perfect caricature yet still faithfully go the original. And Danny, because fuck them he lost sommuch sleep over that one prank, decided to publish it. (The book was pretty thin so it didn't take that much time writing it). Unfortunately it became immensely popular in the infinite realm. So the ghosts started crossing lines on purpose. Before Danny figured it out, he had already published his fifth book and was writing another three. After some bargaining, getting a book written Abt them as a piece of shit love interest became a reward.

And while yeah, he had to say his writing was terrible and the books sucked, some small part of him was kinda proud y'know? Like a mother of her twelve ugly as fuck toddlers.

So when he saw some nerd on the internet not only shit talk his book, but also get money of it?

Danny decided to haunt him (just like his books did him, now that everyone knew Abt them thanks to this guy)

(enemies (sorta it's not that serious tho) to lovers ala terrible writer Danny who hates his books and kinda famous YouTuber hasn't who also hates Danny's books)

--

Fuck this is way too long wtf. Anyway imma reblog this w 1) book idea. Might add whatever i think the twelve books could be Abt. Pls if u want to add anything to this pls do!!

[wintervalewritersecond]

siren song || - xavier thorpe

requested: yes! requests: open! second part of siren song! the third part is also out, check my masterlist! ^^

A/N: thank you for the love on siren song! to read part one, click here! i hope you enjoy this part <3 i had to rewrite this considering i accidentally deleted it :')

wordcount: 4.736 warnings: xavier being a bad friend, curse words, slight memory loss, incorrect information about siren song probably, use of weed.

After finally convincing Bianca to use her Siren Song, you get some well-deserved peace in your head. How long does it take for Xavier to notice the changes?

"What?"

The question catches Bianca off guard, not something that happens a lot. Tears are staining your face as you sniff, trying to not start sobbing again.

"Hey, it's okay. Come in."

Her arm is placed on your shoulders as she guides you into her room, placing you on her bed before grabbing her desk chair, sitting next to you.

"What has gotten you so upset?"

You look down at your hands, biting your cheeks as you nervously fiddle with your fingers. You feel embarrassed to sit here, crying in the dorm of your friend that used to be Xaviers girlfriend, but you didn't know anyone that would know how you feel. No one except for Bianca.

"I think Xavier hates me."

"What?" Bianca exclaims shocked. "Why do you think that?"

If there is one thing that Bianca was sure of, it was that Xavier is completely infatuated with you. Even during their relationship, he still made sure to spend some time with you, and Bianca never cared. She trusted both of you, as you became her friend when the relationship was going on. When the couple broke up, your friendship watered down a bit, but you were still both friendly.

"We just had a fight," you whisper. "He never yelled at me like that. Never."

She hands you a tissue, breathing in deeply.

"He has been ignoring me for weeks. He became so obsessed with Wednesday that he did not have any time for me. She- she asked him to the Rave'n and then he found out that she just used him," you ramble. "I asked him to come with me, not even as a real date, but just so he wouldn't be alone. And then he totally ditched me there the second Wednesday came in. The worst thing is, she doesn't even like him. She told me."

How stupid can a boy be? Bianca grits her teeth, shaking her head.

"He is dumb. If there is one thing that he should do, it's to get his head straight. I can't believe that he would do this. Especially after all you have done for him!"

"What if I just become more like Wednesday? I- I can braid my hair? I will even learn to play the cello. He- He said that she was better than me... That I just bother him. Am I too obsessed or- or annoying?"

Even Bianca's heart breaks at that point. The tears are rolling down your face again as you still don't dare to look up at her.

"Am I really that bad of a friend?"

"No!" Bianca immediately responds. "No, Y/N, if anything, you are a great friend. Too good for him. You don't need to be Wednesday to be better. I think she is too emotionless for her own good."

"I wish I was that way," you sigh. "Please, Bianca. If I tell you that I really want it, can you really not use your Song?"

Bianca takes a deep breath, her leg bouncing up and down. Her eyes fall down to the amulet around her neck. It is very against the rules to use her Siren Song, it is something that could get her in a lot of trouble. But, at the same time, she knows exactly how you feel. Xavier is just someone who deserves love, yet he doesn't know how to act around it when someone is literally handing it to him on a silver plate.

Her heart tells her to help you, to give you everything you deserve, but she knows that she also needs to think about the possible consequences. Though your grades have been slipping and your mood has been down for a while now as well. So many factors.

"Y/N, I really don't know."

"What if I consent to it? Surely that must be fine. I- I will sign a contract, even. Write it myself. I- Even only thinking about doing this for me would already be enough."

You must genuinely sound so annoying now, but you know that this will help.

"Why won't you try talking to Kinbott first?"

"I just need something... Something that will work immediately. A Siren Song can always be undone, right?"

"I'm not sure about that," Bianca grimaces. "It's hard, Y/N. I promise you that I will think about it. Just... Try and get some rest, okay?"

-

You had spent the rest of the weekend laying in bed, napping or reading, and sometimes you would head to the Quad to get something to eat. Kent made sure to try and cheer you up, which did work to an extent. You appreciate having a friend like that.

Even from the distance you sit at now, you can still see the figure of Wednesday Addams, sitting alone at her table while writing something down in her notebook. Ajax waves Xavier over to get him to sit at your table but is quickly rejected as the long-haired boy decides to sit with Wednesday. She looks up with the deadliest of looks, though it doesn't seem to phase him at all. Can't he see?

Bianca looks out from the second level of the Quad, spotting both you and Xavier. Not one word is exchanged, though your body language speaks for itself. Your shoulders are slumped and even though Kent tries his hardest to make you laugh, it isn't enough.

Seeing you so upset about someone who doesn't deserve it makes her feel bad. Even in her relationship, she felt like you were more important to Xavier, and that is something she just... Accepted. She never blamed you for it, as Bianca could never really trust Xavier either. But the feelings he has for you are totally real.

After that dinner, you retired back to your room. Yoko would be hanging out with Divina anyway. Just as you let yourself fall on your bed, you hear a knock on the door.

"Coming!"

You kick your bag underneath your bed before walking up to the door, opening it to reveal a Bianca behind it.

"I will only do it after you agree to all the consequences."

She walks in as you close the door behind her, trailing after her.

"You're serious?"

"You deserve to have some peace, Y/N. God knows I wish someone could have done this for me when I was in your situation. I will tell you every consequence," Bianca looks at you sternly. "And I have some conditions."

"Yeah- Yeah totally."

Bianca sits down at your desk, handing you a pen and paper.

"You are to write down that you agree with the Siren Song. I can't just use it whenever I want. Principal Weems will have my head if she finds out."

"Anything, Bianca."

You start writing, still listening to the siren as she explains everything.

"I can genuinely not say if I am able to undo the Song. There is a high likelihood that it will not return to you and Xavier being best friends. I also do not know what to do if this news ever reaches Weems. No one knows that we are planning to do this, no one except for us."

"I promise you, I will take all the blame," you nod, a weak smile on your face. "It is the least I can do."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She looks at you, her eyebrows stuck in a frown. "It's not something small. You deserve much better than how Xavier acts now."

"I- Yeah. I thought about it all day yesterday. I just... I want to. I promise."

You hand her the paper in neatly written handwriting.

I, Y/N Y/L/N, fully consent to the use of the Siren Song by Bianca Barcley. I have willingly agreed to be under the influence of the song for as long as I wish. All punishments that are given for using the Siren Song are punishments I will take over. Bianca Barcley is not to be lectured nor punished for her actions.

Underneath it is your handwriting, together with the date of today. Bianca takes a deep breath, nodding as she reads it over and over again.

"What exactly... Is it that you want me to do? You just... Want to forget him?"

You nod.

"I was thinking that... I don't want to be scared of him, I just want to stay out of his way. If that makes any sense?"

"Xavier Thorpe will be the one you forget, from now on his name will stop sounding in your head," Bianca mutters, trying to practice whatever she will say. "Distance is something that you will keep, he will not be the reason as to why you... Weep?"

You will forget Xavier, make sure to keep your distance, and not cry over him. You do feel guilty for making Bianca use the Siren Song on you, but in your eyes, it feels like the only way out.

"I think you will just return to how it was before you met Xavier," she then nods. "I will try to make sure that you will not get too close to him again, but I can't promise anything. If you have feelings for him now, you might just... Start liking him all over again."

"I just need to forget," you say, handing the handwritten note to Bianca. "Thank you so much, Bianca."

"This might be the first time I feel guilty for using it," she laughs nervously. "But, you deserve it. Truly. Xavier just needs to get his act straight. He loves you, he's just dumb."

You don't fully believe her. You want to, but you can't. You truly thought that he liked you back, that he was also interested in you. But now you were not even sure if he liked you as a friend anymore.

"Ready? You will probably be sleepy after this."

Trembling hands and nervous sighs.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Bianca nods, pulling the necklace off of her neck. She closes her eyes, holding your hands in hers.

"Xavier Thorpe will be the one you forget, from now on his name will stop sounding in your head. Distance is something that you will keep, he will not be the reason as to why you weep."

-

You had woken up with a slight headache. Your limbs are still sore from the Rave'n dance, but that can't stop you. Not that you remember a lot of it; they must have spiked the drinks. You pick up your bag from under the bed, emptying it out before filling it with everything you need for the day. After finally finding all your books, pens, and notebooks, you exit your room.

"Hi, guys!"

With a big smile, you greet your friends, plopping down in between Kent and Bianca. You had gotten a sandwich from the dining hall, trying to get some breakfast in before your first class.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Kent snickers. "You're up before me most of the time."

You shrug, taking a bite of your sandwich.

"I was so tired," you mumble, wiping your mouth with the napkin. "I'm still sore from all the dancing!"

Ajax and Enid soon also join the table as Enid huffs.

"I feel like the paint is still in my hair," she complains. "I mean, it was a good post for my blog, but that dress was my favorite dress ever! "

You let out a chuckle, closing the sandwich container before placing the leftovers in your bag. Yes, the paint was a pain to get out of your hair and your dress has also been stained, but the rest of the evening went splendidly.

After fifteen minutes, the first bell rings, signaling that classes are to start in only five minutes. You sling your backpack onto your back before standing up from the table.

"You ready for Botany?" Bianca smirks.

"Well," you sigh. "Can I use your notes? I can't find any of mine from the last three weeks. I don't know what I did during class, but I know that there is a test coming up and this is not my best subject."

Bianca's smile falters for a second, realizing that you really don't remember a lot about Xavier anymore.

"Yeah, you can sit with me. Might be the easiest anyway."

You nod, entering the class as you greet miss Thornhill. She had already placed some strange plants in the front of the classroom as other students slowly entered the classroom.

Some students already picked a spot, including Wednesday. She is placed next to another person, hair to his shoulders and a frown on his face.

"Good morning, Wednesday!"

You sit down on the opposite side of Bianca as she and the boy sit between you and Wednesday.

He feels familiar. It is almost like he was in a dream. Like you accidentally bumped into him once or twice, only seeing him in your classroom once in a while. It's like the lingering smell of perfume when someone walks past you, or when you see a half-erased line of pencils on a page. He is mesmerizing, yet extremely intimidating. It is almost like you can't rip your eyes off of him, but you are also too scared to keep looking.

Bianca gives you a look before placing her notebook in front of you, making sure that you can read all of it as Thornhill starts talking. You try to write down all she says, making small sketches of the flowers and plants she shows while also trying to write down all the notes from the last few weeks.

"Alright, so, I will be expecting the essays about the Ghost Orchid and at least two more carnivorous plants. No maximum amount of words, but at least 450 words per plant."

Thank God for Bianca's notes. Without those, you would have actually failed this.

"I think I'm going to be doing my homework in the Nightshade library," you whisper to the girl. "I really need to get started on this."

After writing down the last few sentences, you drop your pen. Your hand is cramping from all the writing and your fingers are covered in ink. Only Biology and one hour of fencing left and after that, you were going to sit with the Choir Club, even though you're not a member. You would often hang out with them, sitting on a bench nearby while waiting for your friends to finish. You yourself were actually in the Art Club, but you tend to hang out with other clubs on days that you didn't have any.

A small break after Botany, just long enough to grab a hot drink from the dining hall before getting dressed in your fencing suit again.

"Bianca? You want to team up?"

She raises an eyebrow, smirking while grabbing a saber, switching it from hand to hand.

"I thought you would never ask."

"I can use some competition. And improvement."

Bianca won. Not once, not twice, but five times. You groan as you end up on the floor again, the tip of the saber pointing to your chest. You hold up your hand before pushing yourself up.

"We get it," you let out a laugh before pulling the mask off of your head. "I'm going to need a break."

She holds out her hand, helping you get up before taking her own mask off. The two of you walk towards one of the small wooden benches that sit against the wall of the room, grabbing a bottle of water before cracking it open, and taking big sips.

Everyone else is still training, the clanking of sabers and the sound of shoes against the mats filling up the classroom. You let out a big sigh, pushing some strands of hair out of your face.

"I don't know if I will ever fight you again," you mumble.

"You're getting better," Bianca laughs, closing the bottle back up. "I have seen worse."

You look at everyone around you, some also taking off their masks to catch their breath as Coach walks around, giving out tips and advice where needed.

The boy with the long hair is here again, yet you still don't know where you know him from. Bianca sneakily looks at you, blinking before looking at Xavier. He acted like you weren't even there as he just fenced against Ajax. She does still think the two of you fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, but Xavier first needs to figure himself out. She knows he likes you; it is clear as day. But as long as he acts like this, he doesn't deserve you. Not at all.

Has he always just been in the background? It is like a ghost, you know that you have seen him, yet you don't know where or when.

"One more round?"

-

"I think I'll be heading to the library now," you tell Bianca. "I genuinely don't know what happened these last few weeks, but I am behind on all my homework."

Half of the Choir Club time has passed as they rehearsed their songs for Outreach Day. They were to perform when the new statue in the town square was going to be revealed. But you had more than enough homework to do.

"I might join you later," she sighs. "Some quiet would be nice."

You tell your friends goodbye before slinging your bag over your shoulder, hurrying down the Quad and into the small hidden hallway leading to the Poe statue. With two snaps you get in, making sure that the entrance is closed off again before going down the stairs.

Nice and quiet.

After around forty-five minutes, you hear some more rumbling. Ah, Bianca must be here. You have gotten a lot of work done, actually. The Ghost Orchid part of your essay is already done, now moving on to the Crimson Pitch plant.

"Hey, Bianca!"

The footsteps descend the stairs, but the figure does not belong to Bianca. The tall guy with long hair walks into the library, the one that felt like he lived somewhere in your memory. Your eyes grow big as you immediately throw everything back in your bag. You didn't know that he was a Nightshade as well.

You close your bag hurriedly. Something about him is so intimidating, but he is absolutely mesmerizing at the same time. Why are you so afraid of him? When walking out you accidentally bump into him.

"Sorry," you quickly mumble, running up the stairs before he can even reply.

Bianca is cleaning up when you get out of the library, so you run up to her. Luckily she is still there.

"Can I do my homework in your room? Yoko was inviting some friends to my dorm and..." You look around, making sure no one is around them. "That guy showed up again. The new one."

Bianca clenches her teeth, grabbing the last few papers before stuffing them in her bag, taking your arm to take you up into her room. She can't have Xavier mess this all up. You haven't been this happy in weeks.

You sit down against her bed, laptop on your lap as you are typing away. But the words are getting stuck, the same sentence being rewritten multiple times before finally getting one that slightly makes sense.

"Is he new?"

Bianca turns around on her chair, looking at you.

"Who?"

"The guy with long hair. He was in the Nightshade library. I- I didn't know if he was supposed to be in there because I wasn't sure if he was in our group."

Why does he have to be there at the exact same time as you? It almost makes the Siren Song useless. You might avoid him as much as you can, but he isn't under the spell.

"He's new."

"He's kinda pretty."

Bianca scoffs.

"Pretty weird. It might be best to stay out of his way, he needs to work on himself before making new... friends."

-

Xavier groans, dropping his bag on the floor. You had been fully ignoring him, but to be fair, he totally deserved it. He had noticed you sneaking into the library and his plan was to try and talk to you, but you had fled before he could get one word in.

He had called Ajax, asking him to come down to the library as soon as he could. Xavier spent some time sitting in the room, biting on his lips while bouncing his leg up and down. He really, really fucked up.

Rumbling of stones and footsteps.

Ajax shows up, slightly out of breath. He had ran here from his dorm. Xavier said that there was a big problem and if he was needed in the Nightshade library, it would probably be huge.

"What's up, man?"

"I fucked up," Xavier runs his hands over his face. "Like, really bad."

The Gorgon frowns, looking at his friend. Xavier looks stressed out, more than usual. His hair is messy, his eyes are red and he has big eyebags underneath his eyes.

"What did you do?"

The artist breathes in shakily, pacing around the room while fiddling with his hands.

"I have been a total asshole to Y/N," he mumbles. "I left her at the Rave'n, drenched in that paint, and then she went up to visit me. I wasn't only a horrible date, but I was an even worse friend."

"Xavier?" Ajax asks yet again. "What did you do?"

Xavier breathes out roughly, blinking while pursing his lips. He is too ashamed to say it, but he needs to tell someone. He needs someone to set him straight.

"I treated her like shit. I told her Wednesday was better than she is."

His friend gasps, looking at his friend almost disgusted. How could he have said that to her? After all those nights of the artist hanging out in Ajax's dorm, him smoking some weed while listening to his friend blabber on about how much he liked you, and then he does this?

"What the fuck? Xavier, you have liked her for years, why would you say that?!"

Xavier rubs his eyes. If anyone is disappointed, it's him. He was so in his head that he took it all out on you. Wednesday isn't better than you. He has liked you for the longest time now, and this just messed it all up. Xavier his mental health has been declining, especially now that he is also suspected of being some type of monster. But that isn't your fault. None of it is. You have always, always been there for him, and he just swept you to the side.

"I'm going to be honest, dude," Ajax looks at his friend. "I am really disappointed in you."

"As you should be," Xavier whispers.

"I'll help."

Xavier looks up, kind of shocked. For some reason, he expected Ajax to just abandon Xavier in the library, leaving him to fend for himself.

"Only if you promise to never do this again. Go to Kinbott more, try and talk about your feelings. Y/N never cared, you could show up crying at her dorm at three am and she would make sure that you're fine before she even thinks of going to sleep."

"Ajax- Thank you so much."

"Yeah, yeah. Just try to talk to her. I'm serious, Xavier. You might be my best friend, but this is not cool."

-

For the last two weeks, Xavier had tried to talk to you on multiple occasions. He even sat at your table, though Kent and Bianca were hovering around you, not even letting Xavier get one word in.

During Botany he tried to draw a butterfly, making it float in the air before it quickly gets swatted away by Bianca who just gives Xavier a disgusted stare.

During Fencing he walked up to you, wanting to ask you to train with him like you usually did, but you quickly darted away once you saw him coming for you.

He went down to the Nightshade library to wait for you, yet you never came.

What he did do was 'accidentally' bump into you. He would calculate when he had to stand up to go to class. The first thing you would put in your bag was your notebook, followed by your pencil case. After that you would close the zipper; his sign to stand up. After swinging the bag on your shoulder, you would walk off.

You accidentally bump into someone's back, making the bottle of water that they had in their hand fall.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

As you go to pick it up and give it back, you see the boy again. The boy that appeared in your dreams as if they were faint memories. The boy reminded you of ink splatters and the smell of freshly painted walls.

You quickly hand him the bottle, excusing yourself before finding your way to a picnic table again. He makes you nervous, and you don't know in what way. Bianca warned you for him, so all you could do was listen.

In your room, you had a collection of handwritten notes, asking you to meet up in the Nightshade library. You never did. Once you showed them to Bianca, she immediately shook her head.

-

"I don't know what else to do," Xavier furrows his eyebrows, "She just doesn't want to talk to me. I don't blame her for not wanting to, but sometimes she even completely ignores me. As if she doesn't even know my name. I tried everything."

Ajax takes a hit of his joint, his eyes tinted red before he blows it out of the window. The moon is lighting up Nevermore, its stars shining around it.

"Everything?"

"Yeah," Xavier responds. "I tried to talk to her, give her notes, even accidentally bumped into her. But, Bianca and Kent are just acting like bodyguards to her."

"If you want, I can try to talk to her tomorrow."

"You would do that?"

"Yeah," the Gorgon shrugs. "She still talks to me sometimes. Hanging out in the Quad after classes. I'll let you know how it went."

-

"Y/N! Hey!"

Ajax runs up to you, a big smile on his face before he pulls his beanie back down.

"Ajax! It is nice to see you again."

"What are your plans for today?"

Hm, what were your plans? You did really want to go to the Weathervane to get a drink, but considering it is a Thursday, you weren't too sure. There are no shuttle buses today, and walking in the chilly weather for twenty-five minutes didn't sound too appealing.

"I have some homework I still need to do. I was thinking of going to the Nightshade library to study. Want to join?"

The boy eagerly shakes his head, following you through the hall and down the stairs. The small table gets filled with books, pens, and notebooks. Ajax didn't really take a lot of homework, but he did provide some snacks.

The two of you talked about all different types of things. How he was planning on asking out Enid, how you expected Outreach Day to go, which homework you were doing, and much more.

"Can I maybe ask you something personal?"

You hum, looking up from your paper.

"Of course."

"I was just wondering," he awkwardly laughs. "What happened at the Rave'n?"

"I have no idea," you shrug. "I think there were some Normies who set off the sprinklers. All I know is that my dress is still stained and that, whatever it was, really burned my eyes."

Ajax frowns, what are you talking about?

"Yeah, no, I was there. One beanie destroyed," he chuckles. "But I meant more like... After the Rave'n. What happened?"

It is your turn to be confused.

"Well... I showered, tried to wash the stains out of my clothes, and then hung out with Bianca."

Do you just really not remember?

"What? No, Y/N, I mean... What happened with you and Xavier?"

Even more confusion spreads on your face as you put your pen down on the paper. What is he talking about? All you did was dance, drink punch, took a break, danced more, and then went to clean yourself from the sticky red paint. And who is he talking about?

"Who is Xavier?"

------------------------

TAGLIST

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[it-happened-one-fic]

I Just Missed You - Riddle

Author Notes: This one is a touch indulgent. As soon as I thought about Riddle having to go home and face his mom after overblotting I wanted him to have some sort of escape. So I gave him one. An easy chat with the Prefect. This one is female-reader simply because I felt like it and it was written to "Far Away" by Nickelback

Type: Angst/Comfort/Fluff/ Platonic or Romantic you choose.

Warning: Riddle's Mom... that's it.

Word Count: 928

Riddle inhaled deeply, resting his head back against the door of his room and letting his hand lay limply in his lap, cradling his phone. He’d known visiting home was going to be a test worse than anything he’d ever faced before.

He’d come quite a ways since his overblot. Y/n, the Prefect, had helped him to better himself. To change his ways and not become a tyrant fit to overtake his mother. But it was still hard. Returning home to the place where it had all started. 

Everyone had told him he shouldn’t have been treated that way. Even Ace, who’d held Riddle accountable for his oppressive actions, agreed that his mother had been in the wrong. And yet Riddle wasn’t comfortable blaming her.

 It was true, she’d been tyrannical about her rules and had, in many ways, treated him horribly. But she’d also raised him. Without her there was no telling who he’d be now.

He looked down at his phone, already feeling drained. It hadn’t taken his mother long at all to discover the changes in him.

“I thought you were in Heartslabyul? What about the rules?!” Her astonished and evident agitation had made him cringe and want to burst into apologies. But he knew he shouldn’t. He couldn’t really help the overblot nor the Heartslabyul rules. The worst part was he didn’t know what she was upset about.

“Having cake each day at the Unbirthday Parties is a rule Mother.” She’d pursed her lips at his surprisingly calm statement. But rules were reliable. They were a way he and his mother could communicate.

“And your grades?” Riddle had offered a sheet on which he’d carefully monitored his progress, doing his best not to tense as she scanned the neat line of top-notch scores.

“Perfect as always Mother.” She’d hummed as she scanned her way down the sheet of perfect attendance and grades. When she’d given an approving nod and returned the sheet to him, Riddle had almost beamed. It had felt like a pressure had been lifted from his chest and could breathe again. From now on this visit would be smooth sailing.

Or so he had thought.

“And you aren’t making any… unsuitable friends? The sort that would lead you astray? I heard that Clover boy was going there and when you were young-”

“Of course not Mother.” The lie had fallen from his lips like a defense mechanism. Too fast and desperate. A condemnation.

Her eyes had narrowed at his irretrievable reply. It had sounded too urgent even to his ears. She hadn’t said anything but Riddle knew it was coming. That was why he’d sealed himself in his room with the excuse of studying.

The moment she’d questioned his choice in friends, Y/n had come to mind. A wonderful person and a loyal friend, but definitely not what his mother would deem suitable. Not with their light-hearted teasing and easy going nature. Y/n wasn't strict enough about rules and didn’t have high enough grades.

Mother didn’t even view Trey as trustworthy and only barely accepted that he was the vice-housewarden when Riddle had explained how well he knew and obeyed the rules. There was no way she’d accept Y/n… Much less Ace or Cater.

Riddle’s fingers itched to tap in the number that the Prefect had given him just before he’d left on break. She’d donned such a bright smile as she’d handed him a tiny slip of paper, “I haven't ever given you my number so, here! If you get bored or… need anything, I’m just a call away and I’m not going to be doing anything anyway.”

It was like she’d known he would need someone to get him through this ordeal. Sure, he could leave the house and go visit Trey but….

Trey would doubtless be busy with customers and catching up with his family. After all, his siblings and parents adored him and their bakery was always busy.

If Riddle were to be totally honest, he missed the Prefect who’d turned his life upside down. She’d done far more than just save him from overblotting and then work with him to figure out the Spelldrive situation. She’d worked with him and helped him to overcome his obsession with rules. She’d shown him he didn’t have to punish every single slight infraction and could relax at times. And he missed her.

His fingers hovered tentatively over the screen. She was a single tap away and even though it’d only been a few days it already felt like it had been far too long since he’d heard her calm but friendly voice.

What would she say? Probably something along the lines of knowing he could face this and that everything would turn out alright in the end. And then she would ask him mundane questions about his home and he would humor her. Calming down at the sound of her quiet voice that always ensured he relaxed. That ensured he didn’t melt into a ball of stress and frustration.

Riddle had hardly realized what he was doing until he heard the beep at the end of the line and her familiar voice sounded from far away, “Hello?”

He exhaled, strangely relieved to hear her voice, “Hey, It’s me.” He could hear the smile in her voice when she responded, immediately chipper.

“Riddle! What’s up?” He smiled despite himself at her casual words. No, Mother definitely wouldn’t like them. But he did.

“I just…” He hesitated and she waited, ever patient with his hesitations and unsureness. “I just missed you.”

[wilmabyers]

Why does no one ever f*cking remember me?

Disclaimer: This is Part 4 of The Fruity Four but it can also be read as a stand alone.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three (18 + only)

Summary: Reader, their boyfriend Eddie Munson and two best friends Steve and Robin play Never have I ever with a twist and secrets get spilled.

Tags: Fluff, playful flirting with eddie, talk of sex and role-play, drinking

By the time we go back out to join everyone, we find Robin and Steve sipping nearly empty beers on the couch. Dumb and dumber nowhere to be seen. Turns out Beth got embarrassed so they dipped.

Without turning around to face me, I hear Steve say “You two are officially the worst wing women in history”

“Hey, I didn’t do anything!” Robin snapped back.

“Exactly! That’s the problem. You two are better when you put your heads together. You should have been helping her!”

Eddie walked over to the kitchen to grab some beers from the fridge. I started to quietly work my way over to the other couch.

Then Steve turns toward the kitchen and points a finger “And you, Munson!”

He freezes, juggling 4 beers in his hands. “What did I do, man?”

“Nothing! That’s the issue! I’m convinced you all want me to die alone.”

Eddie walks over to Steve, managing to move all the bottles into the crook of an elbow so he can put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Mary, dude. Cold one to drown your sorrows?”

Steve nods and grabs one.

Robin snorts, “Her name was Milly!”

I could tell right away Robin was drunk. She always had this child-like giggle and shit eating grin after a few too many. I loved drunk Robin though.( A little too much, clearly.)

“No, It was...” he pauses a moment then laughs. “Shit, I don’t even remember anymore,” then takes a long swig of his drink.

Eddie laughs and starts walking over to me, tossing a drink to Robin on the way, then to me before sitting on the couch next to me and putting his arm around my shoulder. I took a long sip and leaned into his touch.

“You know what will make this night all better? Never have I ever!” Robin announced with a grin.

“Ok, now I know you’ve had too much if you’re suggesting a drinking game,” Steve says while reaching over to take her beer away from her but her reflexes were too quick.

“I’m not drunk. I may be a little bit tipsy but that’s it. You owe me some fun after this shit-show, Steve”

“I concur, “ I chime in, reaching over to clink my drink with Robin’s.

“Fine. Fuck it,” Steve says taking another swig.

I look over at Eddie and he just shrugs. “I don’t care what we do as long as I get to drink but...” he trails off, making his way off the couch,” we’re doing it the right way.”

He points both his fingers in the air theatrically and skips back into the kitchen like a hobbit getting his second breakfast. Gods, this man was such an adorable little dork. I can’t believe he’s mine.

He goes to the kitchen again and comes back with 4 shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

“Dude, my dad will kill me!” Steve exclaims.

“Just fill it with a little bit of water. He won't even notice. This isn’t even the top shelf kind. We’re good.”

Eddie starts to fill the shot glasses. “Ok, for every finger you put down, you have to take a sip of your beer. If you run out of a whole hand, you take a shot. Once all the shots are done, the game is over and we’ll all be pleasantly toasted.” He explains with a bow and a shit-eating grin. His dungeon master ways clearly didn’t just stay within the confines of the Hellfire Club.

“Oh, I’m so in!” Robin says leaning forward, eyes wide with excitement, “mostly because I know you guys will be drinking those shots and not me.”

“Oh, yeah little miss innocent over here” Steve Mocks, pointing his thumb at her.

Eddie returns to the couch. “Ok, princess, you go first.”

“Shit, ok. Umm never have I ever failed 12th grade twice” I said trying to stifle my laugh.

“That’s a low fucking blow, man” Eddie says before taking a sip with one hand and slipping the other one under my ass to pinch it.

“Ouch!” I yelped.

“Ok, my turn.” Robin chimes in. “Never have I ever kissed Eddie.”

I go to drink my drink when Eddie interjects. “That’s not exactly true, Robin"

Steve and I snap our heads to look at Robin. I can feel my blood boiling.

Robin looks shocked and confused. “What are you talking about?”

I look over at Eddie and I swear smoke must be coming out of my ears. “Someone better start explaining real fucking quick.”

Robin starts to stutter and she looks genuinely upset, “I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about.”

“God, why does no one ever fucking remember me?” Eddie exclaims, dramatically dragging his fingers over his face and into his hair. “It was during band camp in middle school. 7 minutes in heaven?” He looks at her with raised eyebrows, impatiently waiting to see if it starts to ring a bell.

“That was you!?” Robin exclaims with complete shock, her hand smacking over her mouth. “I tried to block out that memory. That whole night was so humiliating and very affirming that I was into girls...” She trails off then realizes she inadvertently knocked Eddie. “No offense!”

“None taken, sweetheart” he shrugs and lets out a half-hearted laugh.

I was able to relax my shoulders and unclench my fists after hearing the story. Friends hooking up with my boyfriend was a sore spot for me. When I left my old school before Hawkins, my best friend and boyfriend ended up in a relationship together almost immediately. Eddie was a saint for dealing with my trust issues from that. That combined with his baggage, it was no wonder we were like two bulls in a china shop whenever we were together. Who would have thought that the man that used to be able to fill me with homicidal rage with one look, was now one of the only people in the world to love me the way I never thought existed( or thought I deserved.)

He looked over, noticing that I calmed down and started to rub my back. He whispered in my ear “you can stand down now, tiger. It was barely even a peck and we were so young. I honestly forgot too until now”

“I was so close to decking you in the face” I said.

“I know. I could tell by that scary look in your eye.”

Robin and I both took a drink.

“Looks like you played yourself there, Robin,” Steve quipped before rubbing his chin trying to think of what to say.

“Hmmm..never have I” then he looked over at Eddie and he got a mischievous smile on his face, “never have I ever had sex while role playing as Lord of the Rings characters.”

Eddie got up immediately and ran to the other side of the room, dodging any chance for me to hit him on the arm again. It must have a bruise by now.

“Edward Franklin Munson, I’m going to kill you!,” I said, flicking a beer cap at his face but he moved his head out of its path.

He had that sly smile on his face that pissed me off and melted my heart simultaneously. Seeing my death stare, he put his hands up defensively. “I realize now it was an invasion of privacy, ok? But you should think of it as flattery! I was excited about it and wanted to share the tale with a trusted buddy, ok?”

Steve leaned over toward Robin “ they wore costumes and everything.”

Robin whipped her head toward me , grinning “I didn’t know you guys were such freaky little nerds!”

I covered my face with a couch pillow to cover my most-likely beet red cheeks. I don’t know why I was so embarrassed. I trusted Robin and Steve more than anyone and I know they don’t judge me. I’m just not used to sharing my sex life in such detail. At least Steve chose the more mild of stories to expose me because that’s not even close to the kinkiest things that beautiful man and I have done. Gods, I wonder what else Eddie has told him.

I suddenly feel a thump on the couch before I feel my favorite pair of hands wrap around my waist. Then my favorite deep voice like honey and venom in my ear “I’m sorry, baby. Punish me for it later?”

I lowered the pillow and turned my face to catch his lips in a kiss. Then I whispered into his ear “Oh, I will definitely enjoy punishing you later”

He backed away winking and replied “Not as much as I’ll enjoy being punished.”

“Alright, let’s continue the game, lovebirds. Your turn, Eddie”

Eddie stays close to my side but faces the group and claps his ringed hands together. “Right! Hmmm, ok. What haven’t I done? What haven’t I done?” He looks up at the ceiling with his tongue sticking out, feigning being deep in thought.

I go to punch him again but he catches my fist and pushes it down to wrap both his arms around me.

“Never have I ever slept with Steve,” he says wiggling his eyebrows at me, tongue slightly sticking out again. That tongue would have been really distracting to me, thinking of all the amazing things it does if I wasn’t incredibly irritated with what he just said. I was kind of relieved though that he seemed to mention it like it was just a funny thing of the past because he definitely didn’t treat it like that when he first found out. I thought he was going to smash Steve’s face in when he found out. He almost did but luckily I was able to calm him down. They got over all that eventually and are able to have a real friendship despite how unlikely a duo they are. It’s honestly so fucking cute, I can barely handle it. Seeing my two favorite men together, getting along? It just warms my heart. I took a drink and noticed Steve was looking down at his feet nervously.

“Umm..” Robin starts shakily, “I guess this is as good a time as any to admit that I, too ,slept with Steve.” Eddie and I stared at her, jaws on the floor. “Just one time!” she explained, “ After the first time Vickie and I broke up and after ingesting A LOT of vodka.”

“I’m sorry, what!?” I gasped.

“I’m confused. I thought you were a lesbian.” Eddie blurted.

I punched him on the arm again, right on the growing bruise.

“Stop hitting me!” he yelled, holding his arm.

“Stop saying dumb shit!”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Robin started, “But...he’s very pretty,” she said, stifling a giggle.

Steve shook his head but he smiled and blushed a little.

“Yeah, so as it turns out I can only have romantic connections with women,” she says glancing briefly over at me then snapping back and looking down awkwardly with a laugh,” but sex with men isn’t terrible “

“Wow, thanks Robin” Steve deadpanned.

“I used to be scared of penises but it turns out they’re just like dildos but like warmer and squishier and better!” she laughs, her face turning bright red.

“Ok, I am livid you guys didn’t tell me thisbefore but that can be saved for another time.” I said before continuing the game.“Ok never have I ever...”

“Kissed Robin? Oh wait, sorry, that’s not true anymore” Eddie blurted.

I whipped my head at him, giving him the most deadly death stare.

He immediately realized his drunken slip up.

“Wait, you didn’t tell him? You’re a total hypocrite, babe!”

“What the hell is going on right now?” I heard Steve say, his eyes wild with disbelief.

I looked at Robin and she looked embarrassed, averting her eyes.

I let out a sigh. “Yeah Robin and I kissed last Friday. Ironically, vodka was also involved.”

“Not nearly as much as the night with Steve though. Like seriously, I...”

“Robin, please!” Steve yelled in a high pitched tone, cutting her off.

“Jesus H Christ. I thought you guys were the three musketeers but you are seriously dysfunctional” Eddie remarked before leaning over and downing one of the shots. “I needed that just to deal with this fucking soap opera.”

“You know what I just realized?” Robin asked with an amused look on her face.

“What?” we all asked in unison.

“All of us in this room have hooked up in some way or fashion except for you two,” she said, wiggling her fingers at Eddie and Steve.

“That’s right! “ Both the guys avert their eyes while Robin and I look at each other and both get the same idea telepathically.

I poke Eddie in the ribs. “Babe, you guys have to kiss. It’s like a prophecy. It’s written in the stars”

He looked me up and down intensely with one eyebrow arched. His lip was snarled. I laughed at seeing how uncomfortable he was.

“Come on, Steve. Just a little peck on the lips. Come on.” Robin egged him on.

Steve looks up with this look in his eye like he has an idea. “Ok, we’ll do it.”

Eddie jumps up out of  his seat, “You’re not fucking touching me, Harrington!”

I jump up to put my hands on his chest soothingly.

“Baby, we’re just joking. We’ll stop. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, slow down there, big boy. We can make this work to our advantage.”

Eddie slowly sat back down eyeing Steve suspiciously. He sat down in silence for a few seconds. “I’m listening” he says,” bringing his beer to his lips, taking the last sip.

“If Eddie and I kiss. Just a quick peck, ok? You ladies, have to drink all the remaining shots AND I wanna see you guys make out in person”

“Ok, now we’re talkin’. I knew I liked you, Harrington.”

“Ew, no, this isn’t happening,” Robin says. “What is it with guys and their fascination with girls kissing? Like seriously does having a penis make you brain deficient? My sexuality doesn’t get to be some spectacle for you guys.”

“You two were just wanting us to kiss. How is this not the same thing?!” Eddie asked.

“I was just playing around! I’m not going to get some sort of sick pleasure from it.” Robin replied.

“I might” It escaped my mouth without my permission. Damn this liquor.

All of them looked at me. Robin looks shocked and betrayed a little. Eddie looks intrigued and Steve just looks dumb-founded.

“I...it does sound kind of hot to me. But if Robin isn’t comfortable with it then let’s just drop the whole thing and turn on a movie or something.”

“Wait, you’re down to do it?” Robin asks incredulously.

“Umm..yeah kind of.”

Robin studied me and there was a look in her eye I couldn’t place.“Ok. Deal.”

Eddie sputtered, “What?”

“You heard me, Munson. Pucker up if you want your prize.”

[owlcafe]

I've had something of the equal and opposite experience - at some point, I don't quite recall when, I became convinced I was simply the worst person alive. Cruel, selfish, talentless, just rotten all the way to middle (I assume this development was at least partially related to growing up autistic and queer at a Christian boarding school). And so masking became my lifeline. I had to be perfect, the model anything at all times. I had to have good grades, be good at sports, be artistic, be sensitive and caring but not too much lest it be seen as feminine and weak. I had to be strong-willed and independent but also not stubborn. I had to be the most hardworking, but also everything had to seem natural and effortless. I had to be cultured but not pretentious. I needed to be undeniable, someone that everyone wanted in their corner because I was too valuable not to have around. Out of fear that, if the mask slipped for even a moment, everyone would learn all the horrible things I knew about myself and inevitably come to despise me as I so richly deserved.

The first part of the process for me, oddly, was cutting away the roots. Before I had any kind of breakdown, I somehow managed to begin the process of convincing myself I wasn't the devil incarnate (although, even 9 or 10 years later, I would struggle to say the process is done). But then deconstructing the mask and all the dangerous habits I'd developed was much harder for me, and is a process I'm really only starting now. There were benefits to being perfect - being hard-working translated to taking on heavy workloads at a job where I was paid by the hour, so that made me more money. Good grades got me a PhD, a career in a field that I really like and enjoy. The need to be both athletic and artistic led me to dance, something I love dearly (and, as an interesting aside, the cultivation of both a healthy body through exercise and a healthy spirit through artistic expression, despite being things I initially cultivated specifically to mask better, proved to be essential in both changing my perception of myself and in the early stages of my unmasking process). Being able to modify my performance of myself on the fly to possess the "perfect" blend of any arbitrarily selected traits is a pretty useful skill to grease the wheels in any situation, whether it's making friends or banging someone off Grindr. It's been really hard letting go of some of these things, aspects of myself I consciously constructed to protect my innermost self from being recognised, because they still became parts of me. Even when they were demonstrably unhelpful (turns out working 90 hour weeks to fend off the lazy allegations is bad for you, who knew!), it was hard on multiple levels. It was hard to accept the risk that letting down this wall meant letting people closer to the real me. It was hard to turn down real, material benefits and privileges that come from sublimating yourself to the logic of your surroundings, from playing the game according to the stated rules. It was hard to accept that this fragment of myself that I'd clung to actually wasn't actually serving me, and I might have to let it go. I'm still figuring it out - I've taken a pretty significant career break and found myself in a new job that has orders of magnitude less work in than I'm accustomed to, and that's been hard. I'm doing everything I've been asked and more, but it still feels like laziness, and in part being scheduled to do so little work in the first place almost feels like rejection. I know this is illogical and wrong, I even specifically sought out this position for the lighter workload, but actually having it presented to me is a bigger challenge than I anticipated.

I'm trying to approach my ongoing unmasking project with a sense of compassion I'm not accustomed to using on myself. As much as my state of mind has improved, and I'm no longer afraid of being seen as imperfect in the way I was as a teen, that doesn't mean I'm suddenly thrilled about having and admitting to about an average person's worth of flaws. I never developed the skillset of letting people in, so in spite of it all I'm still not very good at opening up to people and being honest. And I'm trying to respect the difficulty of slowly disconstructing my psyche and finding out that pieces I made foundational to my sense of self are actually really damaging, and parts of myself I tried to cut away are valuable. That's not to say it's all bad though - one thing I did learn through my masking days was how to be kind, or at least much kinder than I was before. I learned to listen and empathise with people in a way I never could before, and just because I learned those skills in pursuit of an unhealthy and cynical goal, it doesn't make them less valuable to me now or less useful in the contexts I want to use them in now. Again, there's an odd irony there - the skills I developed specifically to mask in an aggressively conservative religious environment became the key to my modern sense of politics and moving away from the toxic lessons of my childhood, because it turns out there's lots of people that deserve compassion more than Brenda who's having a tough week because her usual brunch place is closed for renovations.

I don't really think I have a button for this one, I'm just kinda rambling, but to me unmasking has been both a terrifying and liberating process, as you describe. There are definitely ways in which I've felt like I've backslid - like I'm not as confident or as driven as I used to be - but it's important to me to remember that my scale for backsliding here is poorly calibrated. I feel like I've lost motivation because I have - it's just that's actually a good thing, because for years I was motivated in a really toxic way by a crushing sense of fear and self-loathing that I'd mostly imagined. Becoming less motivated has been scary, at times even depressing. It feels like I'm losing my edge, like I don't love things the way I used to. But it's been necessary to bringing my perceptions back in line with reality. I still love things, in fact I love them more than I ever used to, just now I can also love my bed and lazy mornings with a cup of tea, I can love my job but also leave that love at the office when I clock out at the time I agreed to, instead of 4 or 5 hours late. I guess my message is just to be open to the idea that even things you regard as your most positive traits - your confidence, your work ethic, your outgoingness - may not be serving you. Unmasking is liberating because we free ourselves from expectations that it was never feasible to meet, but it's also terrifying because even parts of ourselves that we love can be subject to renovation in the pursuit of authentic self-expression.

Does this unmasking business ever get easier?

Before learning I'm autistic I was extremely confident. Probably too confident, looking back. I took for granted that people liked me and just kind of assumed I'd be accepted most places I went and didn't think twice about it. I've since come to realize that I actually have some major social skills deficits, and I've been remembering past social interactions as well as some relationships that blew up for reasons I couldn't understand and it's mortifying to realize how much information I was misinterpreting. Times I thought people liked me when they were just tolerating me, times I thought I was being admired when I was actually being made fun of, stuff like that. Now that I'm conscious of those gaps in my awareness, I'm thinking about them constantly and second guessing myself all the time. I feel like it's made my social skills even shittier, and I've actually become more awkward. Is there a way out of this? I wish I could rewind knowing this about myself sometimes.

Anon you have inspired me to write an essay on the stages of accepting an Autistic identity. Because what you are describing is a very typical part of a process that normally takes years.

This piece will likely be my Sept 15th Substack drop.

If anyone wants to share their experiences with how the Autistic self-acceptance and unmasking processes moved in stages over time, comment, reblog, or send an ask!

[dirtyhellfireclub]

ENGLISH TEACHER AU EDDIE MUNSON

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

oral, angst, a lot more

-

POV: You’re on your third week of school and at the beginning of the year you started hooking up with your English teacher (both over 18 obviously.) he decides to have a little fun… you guys have to keep quiet everyday and always have a quickie in the mornings at school.

“I’ve been late like 3 times this week.” You mumbled while his face was in your neck biting and sucking. “Not my fault I don’t start teaching till 11 and your class starts at 9.” He said after leaving a mark on your neck and pulling up to your face as your eyes were glaring into each other’s. “I’m out of excuses at this point. We need to start doing this earlier so I’m not late.” He stepped back a bit looking you up and down. “Then go.” He said smirking. “You’re telling me you can’t be late anymore yet your still here letting me touch you.” He said as he tucked his hands under your shirt, cold rings gripping onto your hips.

He licked his lips as he tugged the bottom of your shirt up.

The classroom was dark, windows were covered. We had to keep quiet, no one could know you were with him and he was the reason you were late to your first class almost every day.

He put his lips against mine and moved ours together perfectly. He bit my bottom lip tugging it down wanting to slip his tongue in. I parted my lips slightly and we started making out slowly but with a bit of roughness.

He slid his hand up my thigh while my legs were still dangling down from his desk.

He rubbed his finger across your wet lingerie bottoms that you wore, and wore only for him.

You opened your mouth and let out a gasp throwing your head back as he drug his fingers slowly across the wetness. He grinned and then backed up walking away from you. “W-What are you doing?” I asked as he stared at me. “You said you’re going to be late, right? Cant have that.” He said crossing his arms. I jumped up and grabbed his tie rolling it around my fingers and gripping it.

“Fine. Guess I’ll just go tell my first period teacher that I’ve been late these past weeks because my English teacher has been railing me on his desk every morning.” I said in a whisper.

Before I knew it my back was against the chalkboard and his hand was around my throat. “See, I don’t think it’s the tardys that are getting you in trouble, Y/N. It’s that bratty fucking mouth of yours.” He grunted into my ear and it just made me even more wet than I was.

He was so hot when he was pissed, so I’m going to test my limits. See what happens.

“What are you going to do about it?” I said pulling his hand off my throat. “You don’t understand, I’m your fucking teacher. I can control your grades, I can ruin your fucking scholarship opportunity’s, and you don’t want that. Now shut the fuck up and go get back on the desk.” He said grabbing me and pushing me back towards his desk.

I smirked knowing I could make him this agitated, to the point he would let it all out on me.

“Thought you wanted me to go?” I said making a pouty lip. “No, because now it isn’t going to just be you being late to class.” He said walking in between my legs and pushing everything that was behind me onto the floor.

“I’m going to make you start missing classes, worst than being late. I will fuck the hell out of you for hours just to get you to miss out.” He said throwing my up onto the desk and getting as close to my face as possible.

“And there is nothing you can say or do about it, because all I have to do is this...” He said as he shoved his hand into my lacy underwear and cupping your heat. “And you’re putty in my fucking hands. You’ll do anything I want just to get me to touch you, huh?” He asked and I nodded my head as he started to move his fingers up and down my folds.

“I asked a question, I want to hear you.” He said stopping his hand and refusing to move it until I answered him.

“Y-Yes sir.” I said grabbing his hand and pushing it back onto me.

“See, I told you. All I have to do is touch you and you’ll do anything I tell you to do.” He said slipping one finger in. He started fingering me slowly as a let slight moans out.

“You aren’t going to any of your classes today, right?” He said picking up the pace with his fingers. I shook my head no and he grabbed me by my throat again and pulled his face into mine. “Use your fucking words.” He hissed again.

“N-No I’m not going to any of them.” I moaned. He shoved another finger in and closed our lips together for a few seconds, hand still around my throat.

“And why is that?” He asked wanting to get the words out of me to just send him over the edge.

“Because I’m going to be with you.” I said into his shoulder. “With me doing what?” He laughed into my ear.

I was eager for him to just fuck me right away. Have his way with me.

“Eddie please..” I whined bucking my hips against his hands trying to get as much of his fingers touching my wetness as I could.

“With me doing what, baby girl? Fucking you for hours? Multiple times? So you don’t get to go to any class?” He asked pulling my skirt and underwear down at the same time, throwing them across the room.

“Yes, just please fuck me. I’m begging you. Please.” I pleaded.

He started going faster with his fingers and got down onto his knees. “Trust me baby girl, I’ll have you to myself all day today. You’ll get what you want eventually.” He said pulling his fingers out.

My stomach was turning because he pulled out his fingers before I could release anything at all.

My body was shaking waiting for him to do something else.

He threw my legs over his shoulders and started biting at the inside of my thighs. Knowing there will be multiple bruises and bite marks to be seen later.

He looked up at me with his glistening brown eyes and then dove into me. His tongue licking me up and down through my folds. God he knew how to work his tongue. I laid my back down flat onto his desk while he ate me out. Sucking licking and flicking on my clit as I tried to grip anything that was on his desk. He hummed against me sending a vibration through out my whole body. I moaned his name loudly as tears filled my eyes. “Eddie!” I groaned throwing my hands into his ear. “Please don’t stop.” I pleaded

He started licking and sucking faster, adding a finger basically sending me over the edge. “F-Fuck!” I yelled as I released one of the best orgasms of my life.

He slowed down realizing I had came and just licked my slowly for a few seconds.

He pulled back and looked at me with a grin on his face and my stomach was raising up and down fast as I was out of breath.

I sat up with my elbows on the desk staring at him. He licked his lips debating on what to say but whatever he was going to say must be good the way his tongue pressed on the inside of his cheek.

He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me up. “I’m tired of having to make you be quiet, you’re so fucking loud. You know that?” He whispered. My cheeks turned a hot read and I felt my face burning.

“Sad thing is, I haven’t heard you scream my name yet. Only little moans and mumbles.” He said grabbing my chin and rubbing his thumb across my bottom lips slowly making an entrance to my mouth.

“I’m calling out.” He said taking a fist full of your hair.

“I’m calling out of work, and taking you back to my place so you can scream as loud as you want and I can actually do whatever the hell I want with you anywhere I want to.” He smirked.

Thinking about laying in his bed while having his hands on me and not having to be quiet kept me soaked.

He backed up and grabbed my clothes off the ground and tossed them at me.

“I’m going to my car, and I’m pulling around the block. Walk your ass down there, can’t let nobody seeing me and you.” He grinned and ran his hand through his hair.

He grabbed his keys from his desk and then pressed his lips against mine. “See you in a minute.” He smiled into the kiss.

I watched him straighten up his tie and walk out of the classroom.

I waiting a few minutes and then headed out the same way, hoping no one saw.

-

PART 2?!?! MAYBE?!?! I LOVED THIS?

[primofate]

Genshin Modern AU - Stress and Comfort

Summary: Woke up late. Missed a class. Forgot that assignment due. Another one due in two days. People are downplaying the things that you do. It’s raining and you don’t have an umbrella. Sometimes the little things pile up all in one day and it feels like all you want to do is to get it over with... and your boyfriend to make everything better.

Warnings: crying, stress, mood swings, other than that it’s fluff

Characters: Kaeya, Zhongli x gn!reader

Notes: Also a commission <3 Thank you for the love. Once again if you want something written for you I have cheap rates XD and I’ll always accommodate to your wants! Just leave me a message!

Kaeya

“Hey, Y/N, do you know how to write this part of the essay?” It wasn’t as if you were a particularly good student. But somehow, the people in your class liked asking you because you were accommodating. Ready to help with a smile on your face. Always there to turn to and rely on. “Yeah, it’s just like this…” and you spend nearly an hour explaining it.

“Oh gosh, I don’t think I can finish this part of the presentation tonight, something came up at home,” Group projects were sometimes difficult too. You understood. Things happened, but when they happened, you’d be the first one to say, “It’s okay, I’ll take care of it,” Even though the presentation is tomorrow, even though you barely get enough sleep for the next day. A part of you just wants to quickly get it over with.

“You said this would come out on the test… It wasn’t even there…” The worst part of it is not even receiving any thanks. It’s the way that they look at you when you make a mistake, despite all of the good things you’ve done for them, one mistake, and they make you out and guilt you to be a bad person.

“Your analysis is all wrong, Y/N. This part over here…” Sometimes the price of that was paying with your own grade. You try to listen as the lecturer explains a part of your essay. You’re listening, but it just doesn’t register in your mind. Something about misunderstanding the concept. Those concepts that you’ve tried so hard to remember and to understand. In the end they were all mixed up and confused.

Perhaps the lecturer sees the deflated look in your eyes, and ends quite happily. “Just do better in the next one!” pats your back and lets you leave, handing you your essay graded with a C.

Do better in the next one. Easier said than done.

You shove the paper in your bag without giving it a second glance.

The cafeteria. It was slightly late for lunch but you like it that way. There weren’t a lot of people at this time, which meant you didn’t have to fight for seats. Still, as you put in your order and bring your tray of food to the nearest seat that you see, you somehow bump into someone who topples over your chosen lunch, the tray completely doing a flip and landing on your chest, then on the ground with a plop and rattle.

There’s an ugly stain on your shirt. Forget about hiding it, it had to be washed. “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” and yet they can only stare at the stain. What else could they do? Dabbing it with wet tissue would just make it worse. “It’s…fine,” you wave them away, but you leave the mess on the floor in a hurry and in an embarrassed state.

You sigh once outside again. Deciding that today was enough, you make your way home.

Even then, as you sit at your study table, all washed up and changed, sketching a little something on your tablet, your mother stands at the door, observing.

“…What does that do for you?”

You jump a little in surprise and turn, looking at her blank expression. “What does what do for me?”

“That, your drawing. You’re always on the computer or tablet Y/N. If not that, then your sketchbook. That’s all you ever do,”

You turn around because you don’t want to argue. You don’t want to hear her complaining about how you do nothing but stay in all day after lessons and play games and draw. It was one of the biggest forms of comfort you had for yourself and yet she--

“Maybe try a part time job or join a club or some—”

“Mom, I’m still trying to adjust to uni,”

Why does no one understand how difficult it is to juggle the classes and do all the readings required? Why do I have to do so many things all at the same time? Can’t I do it when I choose to and when I’m ready? Can’t I do things that I enjoy?

“The degree you chose won’t even pay the bills…” You hear her mutter as she walks away. Footsteps receding into the hallways.

You push your tablet away and lay your head face down on the table. You’re trying not to lose it and finally, whatever higher being up there hears your plea to give you a break.

A phone call from Kaeya comes through.

“…Hey,” you answer.

“Hey, hun. You haven’t been replying to my messages,” there’s a lilt of playfulness in his voice. He just thinks you’ve fallen asleep or taken a nap at home or something.

“…Yeah, I—” You try to explain. You try to say that you weren’t feeling well. That you didn’t feel like talking. But would he understand? Everyone today seemed to be against you. “I just, fell asleep,” You lie and there’s a few seconds of silence on the other side.

“…You sure?” Now there’s a hint of unease in his voice. The playfulness is gone. “You ok? Do you want me to come over?” Somehow he senses that it isn’t just “falling asleep”. His simple worry and caring attitude towards you breaks whatever composure you had left. You accidentally let out a sniffle as tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Hey… You don’t have to talk to me, but I’ll come over right now, okay?” The sniffle was enough to tell him that perhaps something had went wrong. You couldn’t help but let out a few more sniffles as tears slowly trickles down your face.

“O-okay,”

Minutes later your blue-haired boyfriend shows up at your doorstep. Despite your mom being a little hard on you earlier, when she opens the door to see him, she smiles and says. “I think they were having a bad day, I might have been a little harsh on them too,” Kaeya only grins and points a thumb to his chest. “No problem, that’s what I’m here for,” He’s still wearing his volleyball jersey.

He knocks softly on the door, “Y/N?” there’s a plastic bag in his other hand.

When you open the door your eyes were already a little red around the edges, but seeing him made your lips tremble and fresh tears fall out. “Shh… You’re okay.” He wraps you in his arms, plastic bag rustling, his hand smooths your hair down and the other rubs your back as you cry out your frustrations for the day.

The two of you stay there for what seems like a long time. You hiccupping into his chest and trying to calm down. At some point he moves the both of you on the bed and lets you curl up against him. When you finally ease up, he pulls away slightly to look at your face, then brushes away the wetness still lingering on your cheeks. “Feel better?” He whispers, as if being too loud will break you again.

You smile a little and nod at how gentle he was being. He smiles back and leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. “You’re doing great, Y/N. Whatever it is, just talk to me when you’re ready,” and it hits you so hard how much he’s willing to just be there with you, even though he doesn’t know what’s happening. How he wasn’t going to judge you for what you say or what you do and your face crumples and grimaces into a face that tells him you’re trying not to cry. “D-Did I say something wrong?” He’s a little startled, but you laugh a little through small droplets of tears that you wipe away by yourself. “No, you idiot. I’m just happy you’re here,”

He sighs and relaxes, taking his own hand and pinching your cheek, pulling at it a little. “Who’s the idiot? Crying and laughing at the same time?” He was joking, of course. He’d only do so when he knew you could take it. You swat his hand away with a slight glare, and he knows that he’s got a little bit of the normal you back. “Alright, come on, here,” He suddenly sits up and presents the plastic bag that he’s been holding all that time.

“Ice-cream, your favourite flavour,” rummages into it and takes out a tub the size of two fists, a little damp from the melted moisture. He’s got spoons in there too. Slowly, as you eat the tub together, you tell him about what’s been going on in uni. How people just expected you to help when you could. How you got nothing in return. How you try really hard and they somehow still end up piling on negativity into your life.

“…It’s okay to help, Y/N,” he thoughtfully says, mouth muffled cause his spoon was still in his mouth. “But don’t forget to take care of yourself too,” then he scoops another bite. “…But even if you don’t…it’s okay,” he looks up at the ceiling. “If you don’t take care of yourself…Then I’ll do it. That’ll be my job. Forever,”

You lay your head on his shoulder as he says this, still eating from your spoon “I love you,”. He smiles and presses a soft kiss atop your head. “Love you too. I’m always just a phone call away, babe,”

Zhongli

“Is there something on your mind? You’ve been quiet for the past hour,” Nothing slips by Zhongli. He’s observant. He knows you don’t feel like eating by the way you’re picking at your food. Knows that you don’t want to talk because you don’t even meet his eyes.

“…Nothing, really,” You just didn’t have the energy to talk about it.

He feels as if this date has gone awry, and he didn’t even know where he went wrong. Though, if he had to guess, it wasn’t his fault. You were just in a particularly bad mood. Not that the two of you were anywhere fancy, it was just your usual sit-down restaurant at a mall across the university.

To him, the right thing to do was give you the space you needed. So, after walking you to your room that night, he’d wait till the morning to contact you. Imagine his surprise when none of his calls go through. None of his texts were returned. He was beside himself with worry when suddenly, near the afternoon, he finally gets word from you.

“Sorry Li, I feel a little sick today. Don’t worry though, I’ll be fine in no time,”

You’re bad at lying. Or was he just good at reading you? You tend to have the habit of withdrawing when you’re out of energy. To give too much without any regards to your own state, your own feelings. Sometimes you don’t realize that you had to watch over yourself too.

It’s nearly 8 at night when he knocks at your dorm room. Zhongli went through a few steps to make sure your roommate would be out tonight. It was from them that he found out you hadn’t left the room at all today, but that you weren’t sick.

“Oh… Zhongli,” You’re surprised at the amount of things he’s holding. There’s a plastic bag that seems to nearly be popping and in his other hand was a mysterious paper bag. Under his arm he’s tucked his laptop with him. He lived in the dorms too, and if someone saw him now, it would look as if he was moving into your room. “You could’ve just asked me to come over to yours,” his eyes trail away, a certain brown-headed roommate pops up in his mind.

“No, Tartaglia’s in tonight,” You make a sound of understanding. His roommate was rather…special. Too energetic for your tastes, and sometimes nosy. “What do you have there?” You ask and invite him in. He chucks the plastic bag on your bed, lays down the laptop on your table along with the mystery paper bag. He notes that you’re already in your sleepwear, which was perfect. He starts to take out a throw blanket from the plastic bag and a hoodie.

“…This..is?” You’re a little baffled by what he’s trying to convey. “…My throw blanket that you like so much…and you said you like wearing my hoodie,” then he points at the laptop. “Do you want to watch a movie in bed? I have popcorn too,”

Then you realize that he’s trying to make you feel better. He’s figured out that you weren’t really sick, possibly just mentally drained. You smile at him and lean in for a hug, to which he responds to by wrapping his arms around your back and whispering. “…I’m not…really good at these things… Tartaglia said it might make you feel better…” You chuckle in his embrace and could imagine the kind of conversation they had.

“You’re the best Zhongli,” he secretly smiles while rubbing your back up and down. He doesn’t ask questions as to why you’ve been acting the way you do, but you’re the one who offers him the answer. “It’s just school… Too many things have been piling up… My class they… They’re really nice people you know? But just… there are times where I wish they would stop asking me for help, but it feels so selfish of me… I have my own things too, but they never think about that…”

It’s always about them, you want to say, but keep your mouth shut. He runs his hand through your hair gently, internalizing the things that you’ve said. “…I see… Would you like to hear what I think?” He’d ask first, because he knew sometimes that you didn’t really want an answer. You just wanted to be listened to. You nod against his chest, you could feel his heart beating from the closeness. “I think, you’re a very selfless person, Y/N,” he places a kiss on your head. “There’s nothing wrong in wanting to take a break from time to time, you deserve it,” and he guides you over to your bed, wrapping the two of you up in his throw blanket. Laptop on, popcorn in the mystery paper bag as you put his hoodie on. It smells just like him.

His back leans against the wall and you’re in the safety of his arms. You’re practically in his lap, encased in his scent and warmth. He’d managed to prop his laptop up on a pile of books and the two of you watch a random movie on the screen. You were paying attention to it, but you couldn’t help but be more interested in the way his chest rises and falls. You can feel him against you, and the comfort it brings is like no other.

You turn away from the screen and rest your head at the nape of his neck. He looks down, movie still playing and asks “Tired?” You shake your head, eyes closed. “No, I’m just enjoying this…” There’s a small rumble from his chest as he lets out a small “Mm,” his eyes are glued to your face. Movie forgotten.

“…Y/N, I’ll always… be next to you,” Your eyes flutter open a little to look up at him, curious. “…Always?” He nods his head firmly to confirm, and you lean up a little to press a sweet and quick kiss on his lips. “Even when I’m not my best and I’m moody?” He chuckles at that and responds with a remark that might have slightly brought tears to your eyes.

“Especially when you’re not at your best, I’ll be there. Just call,”

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[moon-lv3r]

tutoring ~💎

🦋 category: fluff, one-shot, f!reader

🦋 characters: josuke

🦋 summary: your grades are slipping, exams are coming, and so you decided to ask someone as stupid as you to study together. makes sense since you aren’t the brightest tool in the shed

🦋 warnings: nil

🦋 notes: so how are we feeling about the ending of stone ocean? promise i will write something for stone ocean soon hehe. i got this idea to write a fic for josuke bc my mind started to drift into nowhere and a lot of idiotic stuff entered my brain and i suddenly felt inspired to write this fic with some elements of what happened to me. also i dyed my hair !!

The amount of Ds flooding your report book was enough to send any parent into a state of shock. It was a nightmare coming straight out of a nightmare itself. Who would have known that you would be this stupid?

If only you could treat the warnings given to you by your teachers as a love letter. You’d have many admirers then.

“At least you’re not the lowest y/n,” said your best friend, a tall boy who went by the name Nakamura Naoki. “I heard that Okuyasu broke his own record once again. As if his grades weren’t already bad enough. But apparently that Josuke improved.”

A curved smile carved onto your face at the mention of Josuke. Would it be a surprise to know that you liked that idiot?

Naoki knew of it, and he was disappointed.

He took notice of your stupid little smile and sighed. “Seriously why do you like that idiot?” He asked.

“Naoki, you have a crush on Hirai Rei! She couldn’t do literature to save her life. Have you not read some of her poems she wrote for one of our projects last year?” You retorted back. Teasing each other about your crushes was a hobby, and a need, developed by the both of you. Partially because Naoki kept on liking funny kind of people while making fun of you for liking Josuke.

What was wrong with Josuke anyway?

“Rei is good at math and she can help me with it at least. What can Josuke help you with? Getting into trouble?” Naoki replied.

It was unfortunate that Rei just so happened to be the top student in the school for math while Josuke was known for getting into a bit of trouble. Resulting from too much games and a lack of homework being done. You had heard that his nephew was a well-accomplished young man with a wife and daughter.

“Josuke has a rich nephew,” you replied. But before you could say anymore, Naoki stopped you from producing words as stupid as Okuyasu.

“That man is married. I know you’re joking but seriously,” Naoki stared at you, straight into your eye. The seriousness of his eye contact filled with intensity froze you from the inside out. Never have you seen him so serious before.

You and Josuke were in the same class, he sat behind you. You could always feel his stupidity from where you sat but it was a trait that you had admired from him. You didn’t know how your crush on Josuke started out. it was out of the blue, you were just ranting to Naoki about how most of the guys in class were annoying pricks, a rant that even Naoki took part in. He was a boy in band and hated most of the boys. You were in the art club. Josuke just happened to be one of the more tolerable ones and you just started paying more and more attention to him then. It didn’t help that he always started conversations with you and most of it always went from school related to something stupid. But it was never enough to spark a friendship.

Until your weak little heart gave out and started to catch a kind of virus — feelings.

Naoki noticed it way before you did. You refused to believe that you had caught feelings for Josuke and denied it. But you knew it was as truthful as saying the Earth was flat.

Before you knew it, it had turned into something your mind was too weak to reverse. The worst part was that he sat behind you so you could always hear the stupid little shenanigans he was always up to. It got worse when Okuyasu joined the school. The level of stupid reached an all time high that made Naoki question your sanity for liking Josuke.

Months had passed by since then, you and him barely exchanged any words, only ever talking when he started it, but he had been talking to you less these days. Naoki ended up dating Rei and they were happy together. The stark contrast in achievements made you the laughing stock for him and Rei. But hey at least you befriended someone enough to tell her about your hopeless crush on that Josuke.

“Nao is right, Josuke is a stupid guy. Did love blind you to the point that even Josuke can catch your attention?” Rei commented after finding out about your crush on Josuke.

“I am not listening to anyone who’s dating Nakamura Naoki!” You replied.

What was worse was the fact that exams were arriving sooner than your love life finally having something interesting going on. Your grades standing at a failing rate was simply not allowed. Naoki and Rei were studying with each other and you did not want to interfere with their little date.

But you could really use a study buddy.

You even told your mother that you would be getting a tutor for your poor grades so there was nowhere out.

There were virtually nobody you could ask.

And so one day when you were in class glancing through your biology textbook, Josuke approached you.

The Josuke sitting right behind you.

The Josuke whose special talent was being an idiot.

The Josuke you liked.

“Biology is so hard to revise,” he mumbled as you looked up to see his face masked with a grin. He looked like a moron.

This was an opportunity in disguise.

You looked out of the class to see Rei winking and cheering you on with Naoki beside her, shaking his head in disapproval. Naoki must have been forced into it.

“We can study it together!” You replied with an innocent smile that you hoped would not expose your crazy heart going absolutely insane over the both of you finally having the opportunity to spend time together.

he seemed surprised. Your heart sank, heart beat gone. He was going to say no wasn't he?

At least you tried your best. It wasn’t like you never tried anything before. You could live with this.

“Sure!” Josuke surprisingly agreed, making you question if he was really the Josuke you know and love. “Just us or do you want me to invite Okuyasu?”

He was really an idiot.

“The choice is yours. But we will be studying at my house if that is alright with you. The library is really crowded these days,” you replied, trying to be as normal as you could possibly master.

Josuke went silent once again, deep in thoughts inside his empty brain. You really wanted to know what kind of things this boy thought of everyday. It seemed like it would be a never ending land of chaos, would you love it? Probably.

“I will not invite Okuyasu then,” he finally replied. “Today? I’ll see you after school.”

He left before you could even say anything.

What in tarnation had just happened.

You didn’t even have time to fully process everything because Rei barged into the classroom like a rabid creature and Naoki followed behind like he was a sick old man.

“Y/n is finally getting a boyfriend,” she grinned.

“I hate you,” you replied. “What just happened?”

“Ask Rei, she got me to ask Josuke to approach you because you apparently need friends,” Naoki replied.

“He couldn’t resist my charms,” Rei chimed in. “He is like a dog.”

Naoki froze in terror from the sentence and you laughed. Naoki being with Rei was the best thing ever.

You would never know the meaning of boring while hanging out with them.

It felt like eternity until the school bell finally rang, allowing you to run like there was a serial killer chasing you. Your final class for the day was different from Josuke’s so you would have to wait for him by the school gate and walk to your home. There Josuke was, standing by the metal gate like the dashing young teenager he was and oh you could not wait for the events to unfold.

The events would just be you and him talking.

He smiled when he saw you and waved. It made you feel like you were floating in heaven.

Maybe you should stop being so crazy.

Okuyasu went with Koichi to study. So you and Josuke were truly alone. Ain’t this fun?

“Your mum wouldn’t mind me around?” Josuke asked.

“She is used to me bringing guys over all the time,” you replied without thinking. Only realising how horrible your words meant after it escaped your mouth. “Wait no I only brought Naoki over and now he is always crashing at my place with Rei and making me sit on the floor of my own room like they are the ones living there!”

“So you only had Naoki and Rei over?” He asked, looking amused. “You got so flustered.”

You hated this.

“Sorry,” you apologised meekly as your doorstep finally greeted your face.

Quickly, you and Josuke entered and made the way to your room. It was filled with books and music, the sight of games were practically non-existent. Josuke was appalled by the different your room was compared to his. The thought of living without games was simply foreign to him, something impossible.

The both of you managed to find a comfortable spot on your room floor and sat down. He looked through his textbook like it was plotting his murder. “I don’t understand physics at all. What is the principal of energy conversion, whatever its called.”

“I think its that energy cannot be lost or destroyed, only converted from one form to another?” You replied, equally confused and began to look at your own textbook. “Oh I am right.”

Josuke was extremely weak when it came to his sciences so he spent most of his time on that. You couldn’t do math so that was your main area of focus.

“What is the difference between alkanes and alkenes again?” He asked.

“Hold on let me check…” You muttered, moving yourself so that you would be beside him. You took a glance at the textbook he was holding, unaware of the gap that would almost cease to exist between your cheeks. He was aware of that however, but remained frozen in his posture while your eyes scanned the words printed on his textbook.

“Oh alkanes have a single bond with carbon while alkenes have a double bond with… carbon as well,” you replied. “Why is chemistry so hard, the spelling of alkane and alkene is so similar!” You whined. “How would anyone tell it apart?”

Math got worse for you when you got to trigonometry and whatever the name was for the topic that needed you to find the volume of shapes. What the hell were your eyes registering into your brain?

“What is the hypotenuse of a triangle?” You asked in distress. Your mind in shambles from studying, too tired for anymore.

“The longest side?” Josuke shrugged. “I don’t know either.”

You glanced at your math notes once more, flipping through like a sane woman gone mad. He was… right?

“Why are you actually correct?” You answered in shock.

He looked just as surprised as you to learn the fact that he wasn’t that stupid. His grades only went from failing grades to barely passing. But an improvement was still an improvement.

Time ticked by as the both of you continued your mindless studying. The only dialogue exchanged were questions relating to subjects and the, sometimes insanely wrong, answers to them. Josuke once thought basic oxides were the same as acidic oxides. It was a funny one. It made a good laugh escape your lips.

The sun soon vanished from the sky, replaced by the moon and its’ dark shine over the Earth.

Your mother arrived home and cooked dinner for Josuke. She saw you bringing a guy that wasn’t Naoki back home and immediately started to do an interrogation. Swore it was for your future as well.

The aroma was sweet, filling every corner of your home. But the stare from your mother felt intense. Josuke could feel it too.

“So you’re the smart tutor y/n decided to bring home to save their grades?” She asked.

Josuke turned to look at you with a funny expression. You had no idea what it meant but he nodded his head with a smile before returning to face your mum. “Yup, top of our class.”

Oh he definitely was.

“What does your parents do for a living?”

“My dad is uh… overseas with my nephew, my mum is working at a bank,” Josuke asked. He seemed hesitant about his father but answered rather smoothly.

Dinner went by without anything weird coming from nowhere. The chicken your mother made was as amazing as usual and the curry she made tasted just as good, you loved the spice burning your tongue senseless. After all three of you finished your meal, your mother decided that it would be a good idea to have you walk Josuke home.

“So… what was that about me being smart?” Josuke asked, grinning in a smug manner.

“Nothing,” you tried to shrug it off.

“We both know the top of our class isn’t me. I am nowhere close,” Josuke explained. “So?”

You sighed, it wasn’t like any lie would make sense anyway.

“Told my mum that I would ask a smart one for help but I asked you instead,” you explained.

“Why though? Naoki only told me to talk to you…” his voice became softer, his mind turned heavier.

It could only mean one thing…

“Wait… do you like me?” He asked. Your mind stopped producing thoughts. Your heart kept making heart beats.

He looked at your reaction and that gave him all of the answers you needed. “So you do…”

“So?” You replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you could.

Josuke looked like a happy little idiot. “And I thought I was the only person who would like someone who barely talked to me. I thought you didn’t like me because you barely talked to me, only I started the conversations so I just stopped, until Naoki told me to approach you.”

Oh…

He mistook your shyness for a sign.

“I was just shy…” you explained. “But yeah I do like you…”

Josuke’s smile appeared brighter than the street lamps at that very moment when you admitted your feelings and you felt him suddenly holding your hand. “So can I be your boyfriend now?” He asked.

“After our exams,” you shot back.

For the rest of the walk, he would never stop complaining about how he has to wait.

The exams came and went. The results? Both you and Josuke had improved quite an amount, even Naoki was surprised.

What reward did you get for it?

Higashikata Josuke.