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#a fellow student helped me to the best of his ability and we were still stumped
foldingfittedsheets · 8 months
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I’ve spent hours today throwing myself at Maya trying to use the rigging tools I broke down and bought. It fiiiiinally worked and now I’m too tired to actually rig because I invested so much time in prep.
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hiraethwrote · 3 days
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your only competition - satoru gojo
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[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]
✧ summary: constantly trying to one up each other, youre always at each others throat. swearing you hate the other, neither want to admit that you might enjoy your time spent together. until... ✧ cw: academic rivals, some swearing, poorly written combat scenes (sorry), injuries, mentions of blood, bickering, some angst, slight comfort, no use of y/n, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 5.0k
⋆⭒˚。⋆
Satoru Gojo was the best, in every sense of the word. Being the first sorcerer in centuries to be born with the Six Eyes definitely counted for something. And so he began to excel well beyond his classmates, fairly enjoying the spotlight that went with his rare abilities. Wasn’t it always nice to get recognition for your achievements? Satoru thought so at least.
Sitting alone at the top, he was sent on solo missions for curses his peers couldn’t face. That was, of course, until the day you showed up. He didn’t know it at the time, but that warm September day you walked into the classroom would be burned into his memory for as long as he’d live.
Everyone’s heads had perked up when an unfamiliar individual had paraded into the classroom, following close behind Yaga. You'd held your head high, hands tucked neatly behind your back while Yaga introduced you as the new student. It had to be a joke, Satoru had thought, a snicker playing on his lips at the sight of you. Gathering as much information as he could just by letting his eyes travel you, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of cursed energy, so why were placed in their class?
Your eyes shined with a childlike innocence, like you were totally unaware of the world you were all living in. One could feel you radiate a sense of hope that only came from being inexperienced. Oh, how hard the harsh reality would hit you once you were faced with what was out there.
After class, Shoko had yanked Satoru back into the classroom by his uniform, her eyebrows furrowed in a strict scowl. “I know what you’re thinking, Satoru.” He stared back at her with big eyes, pretending he didn’t know what she was getting at. “She’s been sheltered, we all saw it. So it’s important you behave!”
“I always behave.” He slumped over as he spoke, appearing more weakly to enforce his dumb act.
“I mean it, Satoru. She’s going to need our help.”
He took his index finger and drew an X over his heart. “You have my word.” His infamous smirk still danced on his lips, which made Shoko not believe him for a second. She knew there wasn’t much she could do if he’d already decided to tease you. With a disappointed shake of the head, she left him standing with his hands in his pockets.
Satoru kept his eye on her until she had turned a corner. The second she was out of sight, he darted in the opposite direction with a clear mission in mind, managing to catch up with you as you were walking down the hall to your dormitory.
“Hey, wait up.” With a curious look, you turned to the source of the voice that called your name. Pacing towards you, was a tall, lanky fellow with locks white as snow, the biggest shit-eating grin you’d seen in a long time, wearing a pair of characteristic sunglasses.
“You must be the one and only Satoru Gojo,” you said, mirroring his expression as you defensively crossed your arms over your chest.
“I see Yaga already told you about me.”
“No, not really,” you shrugged, your tone taking him by surprise. “But it’s not like your name is unknown in our world.”
“So what have you heard about me then?” He bent forward to be on your level, fishing for compliments, making you feel patronised.
“Don’t feel like inflating your ego more. It’s already dangerous walking around with a head big as yours.” Satoru instantly jerked back into a straight position, retrieving his hands from his pockets to regain a more dominant position.
“Well, aren’t you cute,” he said sarcastically.
“Was there something you wanted?”
Looking down on you, he began to wonder if you were putting on a face, intentionally giving off the impression of being reckless and empty headed. Therefore he had started to theorise the bounce in your step didn’t come from being inexperienced; it came from a film belief that you were better than what people gave you credit for.
“It not every day a new sorcerer joins us, so I’m just curious about what makes you special?” The self satisfied smirk was back on his face in order to seem unbothered by your snarky remarks.
“What’s it to you?” Fuck you, was the first thought that crossed his mind when you’d once again, shut him down. You weren’t giving him anything to go on, not verbally or on any level his Six Eyes could detect.
“We’re classmates now. A team — think I could benefit from knowing,” he said gallantly.
“You’ll know soon enough,” you smirked at him as you began to back away towards your room.
His smile slowly faltered, his eyebrows narrowing in frustration. “Good luck.”
“Sure, thanks,” you waved nonchalantly over your shoulder as you entered your room without another word.
Chewing the inside of his cheek, he still couldn’t pin point anything about you. The only logical explanation to having an ignorant demeanour whilst having a sharp tongue would be you were able to fend for yourself. Then why couldn’t he sense any power on you?
But as you’d said, he would find out soon enough. Even as soon as the next day, when you’d all met for sparring. It was like the higher ups had heard his prayers, because he had been paired up against you. His excitement didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who kicked him weakly in the shin to try and smother it.
“You go easy on her, mister,” she’d said so only he was able to hear.
“Don’t worry, Shoko. I’m not cruel. I’ll end it quickly so she won’t humiliate herself too much,.”
Once you were both firmly placed on your respective positions, both with a staff in your hands, he made sure to capture your gaze. “Are you ready for this, sweetheart?” His tone was as sweet as sugar, never breaking the eye contact as you both leaned forward in a bow.
“Are you, sweetheart?” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. He hummed softly at your comment, entertained by the attitude he knew he’d wipe off you the second the sparring started.
After being underestimated for years and years, you'd eventually had no choice but to learn how to use it to your advantage. You leaned into the role of an unintelligent girl who went into every situation without thinking. People became sloppy when they faced you, confident they’d easily take you out.
Satoru was no different. What was worse, was how he didn’t even try to hide how sure he was that you were weak. His smile said it all.
Yaga signalled for you to start, instantly tightening your grip on your staff before striking it directly at him. He was a little startled at how you immediately went for the offensive, but he swiftly dodged the attack just as you had expected. You exploited his dodge, by having the staff spin around before smacking him in the back of the head, stumbling over the foot you had strategically placed in front of him.
Tumbling forward, he finally managed to steady himself only to be faced by Suguru and Shoko standing on the sidelines, both choking back the laughter about to spill out of them. None of the three students had expected you to be so aggressive from the get go, let alone succeed at it.
He shook off the shock, not to mention the pain, from the hit before turning back to look at you. The playfulness had seized to exist and now there was determination written all over him. The corner of your lips perked up in a content smirk.
His staff came piercing through the air, you spun away in the last second before flipping the staff and deflecting his next move, trapping his weapon under yours. You turned to look at him and he didn’t like the mischievous expression plastered on your face.
“What are you playing at?” He asked with a small pant. Your smile only grew at the sight of his frustrated demeanour.
This was the part you loved, the moment you could see it in your opponent’s eyes that they had severely misjudged you. And in their epiphany, you knew they still wouldn’t be able to read you clearly. That being said, you were fighting no other than Satoru Gojo, who even if he couldn’t predict your next move, could be able to take you out regardless.
Suddenly, you felt your staff slip and glide against his. He quickly took advantage of how you’d put your weight on the staff. Before you knew it, you felt the impact of his staff slam against your back.
You found your footing before you reactively threw your elbow at his face. A scoff of surprise slipped out of you when it stopped an inch from his face without him doing anything.
“Asshole,” you breathed. This was the oh-so-famous infinity you had been told about, but you didn’t quite understand it or how it worked. It was no secret that Satoru was well on his way to become the strongest, but he wasn’t there just yet. So maybe you could give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he wasn’t a hundred percent in control of his infinity, that it had been an instinctive reaction.
Nevertheless, it was what you had waited for. You’d wanted him to be the one to resort to his powers first so you could shamelessly use yours.
His breath hitched in his throat when an overwhelming wave of unfamiliar power crashed over him. “What the-“ he didn’t understand what was happening. Was this your power, and why hadn’t he been able to sense it earlier? Had you really been able to block him out from getting insight in your technique?
He didn’t even realise what was happening until he was jerked into the air before slamming against the floor with immense force, landing on his shoulder. The room were quiet for a solid ten seconds before he staggered back on his feet before slow claps in your honour was heard from his friends.
“What the hell was that?” He panted, approaching you with quick steps as his hand rubbed circles on his shoulder.
“That was how you win,” you said in between heavy breaths, leaning your hands on your knees.
“That’s not what I mean,” he nearly growled. Before he was able to interrogate you further, a friendly slap was placed on his back.
“Just admit it, Satoru. She beat you,” Suguru said with a low chuckle. Satoru didn’t even flinch, he kept his gaze pinned on you.
“But you cheated,” he said with a displeased chuckle. You didn’t even entrain his comment, only turning away from him and starting to walk out of the gymnasium. “Hey, I’m talking to you. That last move was dirty.” You heard his footsteps hurry over to you again.
“How’s that?” Snapping around to face him, folding your arms over your chest. “By using my technique? If that’s the case, you’re nose should be bleeding right now.”
With worried eyes, Shoko and Suguru watched your bickering from afar, knowing exactly how this relation was going to play out. The loud argument in the gymnasium was only the beginning of your rivalry. Every person unfortunate enough to witness your public displays of hatred, quickly learned that both you and Satoru were extremely headstrong — maybe stubborn was a better word.
Both of you brought your petty arguing with you into the classroom the first chance you got. It became a never ending competition of who could answer the questions faster. And if the chance offered itself, you would instantly argue with the other person to the best of your ability. No one could tell if you did it to show off who knew the most, or if it was simply to humiliate the other. Either way, it got annoying fast.
Yaga had on several occasions tried to shut down the fighting, but had little success. You would both find one way or another to go at each other anyways. On one occasion, you’d gotten into a fight so bad that Yaga had ordered for the rest of them to leave the room and just let you two hash it out. He’d come back an hour later, only to see through the door crack that you were still going at it. He also saw how Satoru was fighting to let his smugness show, clearly getting a kick out of provoking you until you were red as a tomato.
“Are you really that stupid, Satoru?”
“Please, for the love of all that’s holy, shut up!”
The only place Shoko and Suguru managed to catch a break was during sparring, when they would sneak out for cigarettes the second you and Satoru said the first word to each other.
In every session, neither of you accepted going against anyone but each other. After your first sparring match, Satoru was determined to win the next one, which he did. And how he had won would probably haunt you forever.
You were just about to win yet another match, but it troubled you that Satoru didn’t seem worried about losing. You had the staff pressed against his, sweat dripping down your brow. He was heaving as much as you, but a small smirk was lurking at the corner of his lips.
That’s when he cocked his head forward, revealing the pair of most hypnotising blue eyes you’d ever seen. You had no control of how your muscles relaxed and expression softened. As a soft sigh slipped out of you, he instantly saw his opportunity to down you, knocking the wind out of your lungs when you’d hit the floor.
You'd gone to bed fuming that night, the image of Satoru laughing and teasing you flashing behind your eyelids as you so desperately tried to fall asleep. You were absolutely mortified by the fact that he’d won simply by his appearance; no combat skill, no infinity, no technique, no nothing!
The next morning you got up at the crack of dawn in order to work out and prepare yourself for the next time you’d face him. Never again would you give him the opportunity to embarrass you like that.
Neither is you would probably admit it, but as the training went on, you both learned a lot from each other. Especially when you began to make use of your powers.
Finally you were starting to understand how the most powerful sorcerer functioned, absolutely astonished by the sheer possibility of it. But as you got to know him more, you also so that his powers wouldn’t have been nearly as special if it hadn’t been for Satoru himself. The extraordinary way he so casually carried himself despite of it all, you couldn’t help but admire it. Though you wouldn’t let him know that.
Satoru too, was intrigued by you because it was only during sparring sessions he was able to see what your cursed technique could be capable of. Outside the gymnasium, you kept the cards close to your chest, revealing absolutely nothing about yourself. But in here, you let that shield down. The power you held was so intense, to the point he knew you were definitely holding back on him — just as he was with you.
As the matches got more intense, Suguru and Shoko kept betting the same 1000 yen on who would win. Not only that, they both seemed to notice the growing tension between you, despite the fact that you said you couldn’t stand each other.
And tension there was, as right now. Satoru had his arm around your neck, pressing against your chest. You had your hands tugging on his forearm as your back was pushed up against him. Cursing his name under your breath, you fought the small smile that was sneaking its way onto your face.
The hair on the back of your neck raised when you felt him lean in forward, his hot breath agains your ear before he spoke, “think I like you in this position better.” If you weren’t so focused on trying to beat him, you would probably have paid more attention to the flirtation in his voice.
In a matter of seconds, you benefitted from his playfulness and reversed the roles where you had him pinned against the ground in defeat. “Don’t go soft on me now, Satoru. Ain’t going to be any fun here anymore if you make it too easy.”
“I’m just trying to get in your head.”
“Hmm, funny. Doesn’t seem like it’s working,” you teased before you stood up without offering him a helping hand.
Satoru had his eyes follow you the entire way out of the gymnasium, a genuine smile dancing on his lips. He quickly snapped back to reality when he heard Suguru’s voice.
“Satoru!”
Turning to look at his friends, there was no signs of the smile that was present just a second ago. “What?”
“We called your name like four times!” Neither of them looked pleased, Shoko with her arms crossed over her chest and high shoulders, and Suguru with his hands in his pockets.
“Sorry, was just lost in thought.”
“We can tell,” Shoko sighed as they both began to follow him close behind as he walked for the exit of the gymnasium.
“So, when’s the wedding?” Suguru teased, instantly earning him a tired scoff from Satoru. “I mean, it’s pretty obvious.”
“Give it a rest.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s a menace. You know I think so.”
“Yeah? Could have fooled us,” he shrugged in response.
“What do you mean?” Shoko and Suguru shared a quick glance in question if he was playing dumb or if he actually didn’t know what they were getting at.
“When you’re not seeking her out to argue, then you do not shut up about her.”
He tried to shrug them off. “Because she gets on my last nerve.”
“No, Satoru, you don’t get it,” Shoko interrupted him, clearly annoyed. “If you disliked her as much as you say you do, you’d think you would want as little to do with her as possible.”
“Everyone complains about people they don’t like.”
“Every once in a while, sure. But it’s all the god damn time!”
Satoru just shook his head, trying to shake off their accusations. “Whatever it is you’re getting at, you can drop it. You’ve never been more off.”
With a deep sigh, Shoko turned to Suguru with a stern look in hopes he could get him to realise how absolutely insufferable he had been since you'd arrived. The second they managed to peer him away from throwing insults in your direction, he went on to complain about anything you’d done. Your answers in class were stupid, your technique when training was sloppy, you had immense power but didn’t know how to use it.
But the absolute worst was when you and Satoru had been on missions. Seeing as the two of you were significantly stronger than the rest of them, you were often sent on more demanding missions just the two of you, on several occasions facing special grade curses.
When both Suguru and Shoko were present, there was only so much new information Satoru could provide them with. But if you were gone for a day or two, there was no shutting him up. He went on and on about whatever curse you met and went into detail about what you’d done to exorcise them. To anyone listening, it sounded like he admired every move you made, throwing in random, cruel remarks just to keep up the image of hatred.
“Look, if you can tell yourself you talk so much about her because you hate her, fine. But how do you explain the looks,” Suguru continued the discussion.
“Looks?” Shoko swore she could punch him.
“You can’t be serious?” He huffed.
Truth was, Satoru was fully aware of how his gaze lingered on you for a second too long. He knew he couldn’t help but smile whenever he saw you thrive in battle, whether in practice with him or on missions. And whenever your skin got in contact with his, he became idiotically aware of himself.
But he could never in a million years admit that. Not after being so adamant in his disdain for you. “You guys are reaching,” he said with his characteristic, cocky chuckle as he began to walk away. “She’s my only real competition. It’s only fair I stay on top of it so she doesn’t surpass me.”
His friends only scowled at him as he exited the gymnasium. “1000 yen they’re sleeping together in a month.”
“Nah, you’re winning that bet,” Shoko said with a defeated chuckle.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
Satoru couldn’t understand what had happened. He was only staring empty at Yaga, the ringing in his ears completely blocking out his words, feeling his mouth run dry.
The last thing he remembered was Shoko’s frantic voice on the phone, telling him to hurry back to Jujutsu High. He’d only ever heard her voice that panicked a handful of times before; she was usually so calm and collected.
He’d wasted no time getting back, being rushed by both Suguru and Yaga the second he had set foot within the premises. The first thing he’d noticed was Suguru limping and clutching his stomach while his lip was bloodied.
Oh no.
“You alright?” He’d asked weakly, as he has begun to place the pieces together.
Suguru simply nodded with a wince in pain. “I’m fine, but Satoru-“
“You both made it back, right?” He tried to smother the desperation in his voice.
“Yes, but-“
Satoru had already begun to zone out, realising what they were about to tell him. He knew you and Suguru had gone on a mission— a mission which was originally meant for you and him.
However, last minute the higher ups had decided Satoru had to go on a solo mission. Though he had tried to argue, they had been very adamant. The only deal he had managed to make with them was for Suguru to go with you so you didn’t find yourself alone on a mission intended for the two of you.
“Satoru.” Though somewhat muffled, he managed to make out Suguru calling his name again.
“What happened?”
Suguru struggled to form the words, only stuttering a few sounds before Yaga jumped in to explain. “The curse that met them was special grade, not first grade like we first thought.”
“Okay, but she should be able to-“
“Satoru, you didn’t see it. It was unlike anything we’ve faced before,” Suguru finally managed to form a sentence as he could hear the stress start to appear in the voice of his best friend.
“No, but you’re both strong. Next to me, you’re the strongest!” He was starting to get severely anxious, his heart beating faster and faster. It was only made worse by how they didn’t seem to give him all the information straight forward.
“She got me out first.”
“Wait, got you out first? Is she not here?”
“Satoru?” Shoko’s shallow voice drew their attention to her, as her head perked out the door. Slowly, she made her way over to them, genuine concern on her face.
“Can someone please tell me what happened?” He pleaded, turning restless by the way they were all looking at each other while he was still left in the dark.
“She managed to hold the curse at bay long enough for me to go in again and get her.”
“She’s stable for now, but I… I’m not sure when she’ll wake up.”
This couldn’t happen. You always knew what you were doing when you were out on missions. Never reckless, despite what one might think. You took every precaution imaginable, avoiding every risk that you might face.
So how come they were telling him that you’d taken one hell of a beating? He felt the only reasonable explanation was that this was a sick joke.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, before hesitatingly asking what he’d wanted since he arrived. “Can I see her?” Shoko simply nodded before leading him to the door, carefully opening it up for him. Slowly stepping into the dimly lit room, his eyes immediately landed on you.
The first thing to hit him was how he couldn’t sense your cursed energy, and not because you were blocking him out like you usually did. But you just felt weak, and he couldn’t ever recall seeing you so peaceful.
Laying completely still on your back, your covers only covering your legs revealing your bandaged torso, a tiny bloodstain seeping through. Your face was different shades of blue, evidence of the battle.
As much as both of you had faced strong curses before, you’d never been this beaten up before. He became a little nauseous at the sight, beginning to picture how every thing had gone down wherever it was you had been sent on mission.
He cautiously approached your bedside, scared that if he made any sudden moves or sounds that he would somehow make it worse, before sitting down on the chair beside you.
“I’m sorry,” he said, barely a whisper. The guilt had hit him like a truck, taking responsibility for not being there.
If he had wanted to, he knew he could have convinced the higher ups not to send him on that solo mission. And if so, he could have been there and helped— saved you.
Against all odds, through all the fighting and bickering, you had become a strong team. Neither of you would say it out loud, but somewhere along the line, you had both grown to care for each other. Satoru, however, hadn’t realised it until his breath had hitched in his throat at the sight of you so fragile.
As the days past, your wound healed and your bruises faded from your face, but you showed no signs of waking up. Satoru grew more impatient for each day that went by, especially when no one had any more answers to give.
“I’m sorry, Satoru. I’ve done all that I can,” Shoko explained desperately almost on a daily basis, but he kept asking everyday.
Day in and day out, he sat in that damn uncomfortable chair, only occasionally pacing around the room for two minutes to stretch his legs before settling down in the chair again. He barely slept, so adamant on meeting your gaze when your eyes finally fluttered open.
“You gotta wake up soon,” he pleaded to deaf ears. Three weeks of waiting had been pure torture. “I need you to come back.” A somber chuckle left his lips.
Reluctantly, he dared to carefully grab your delicate hand in his. It was a weird sensation, as the only time he had felt your skin was when you were in combat training. Now it was soft and tender, letting his thumb glide graciously over the back of your hand.
“Do I have to beg you?” His voice was so careful, like he wasn’t able to let it out in its entirety. “If that’s what you’re trying to make me do, that’s not funny.”
Still nothing. Not a twitch in your eyelids, not your lips opening to speak, not your nose flaring as you took the first deep breath waking up.
“Wouldn't put it past you,” a faint smile reactively found its way onto his face. “Just please. Wake up.”
Dead silence filled the room, his eyes locked on your small hand resting in his. He didn’t realise his eyes had actually shed a tear until it hit your hand, his own intense emotions surprising him.
“You are going soft on me, sweetheart.” Satoru attention shot towards you, barely making out what you had groaned out. Muttering your name in shock, a self satisfied smirk grew on your lip. “Water, please,” you squealed before breaking out in coughs. Scrambling out of the chair, he clumsily filled you a glass of water.
“You’re awake.” His voice was so light, unlike how you were used to hearing it. Usually there was always a smirk to sense in his voice, constantly smug. But now he was so gentle, as he carefully placed his hand on your back to help you up before handing you the glass. You were so used to having his hands throw punches at you, it was a delightful change when he tenderly placed his hand on the back of your head as you drank.
“How long have I been out?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat before sitting back down in the chair. “A little over three weeks.”
Your eyes widened, another small cough escaping you. “Three weeks—“ a low whistle. “Bet you’ve surpassed me by far now.” You were only half joking, genuinely upset that you might have fallen behind. But, to your surprise, he gave you a nervous chuckle.
“Uhm, n-no,” he said before clearing his throat, shaking away his uneasiness. “Not really.”
“Okay? What have you been up to this whole time then?” The weak smile on your lips gradually faded when it dawned on you. With adoration glistening in your eyes, his gaze met yours. “Oh,” you spoke hoarsely. “You haven’t really sat here all the time, have you?”
“No, I’ve walked around the room a few times.” Blinking rapidly at him, you couldn’t quite believe what you were hearing. This only confirmed the suspicions you’d been too scared to even think, that there might have been stolen glances and smiles with intentions shared between the two of you.
Without mentioning it, he had intuitively taken your hand in his again. Your cheeks heating from the feeling of his compassionate touch, pleasantly surprised by how natural it felt to have him hold it.
“I should probably get Shoko-“ he was about to stand up, but tightened the grip on his hand to prevent him.
“Just-“ anxiously clearing your throat. “I feel fine, we can wait a little longer.” His eyes captured your glare and he had never looked at you with so much passion before, making your heart skip a beat. “Thank you for sitting with me.”
“Wanted to be there when you woke up,” a tired smile on his lips.
“I’m glad you were.”
“Me too.”
⋆⭒˚。⋆
a/n alright guys... "ill take a break from writing this week" im full of crap. so when I was 2k words deep, I rewrote the entire thing. then i just kept writing and writing, it never ended. i thought it was gonna be much shorter. had to perfrom some killing of darlings. when i finished it first it was like 5.3k words so.
reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated
plagiarism not authorized
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narutocharacterpolls · 8 months
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ROUND FOUR
ROCK LEE vs HATAKE KAKASHI
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Reasons for submission under the cut
Lee
ROCK LEE VS GAARA
kind as can be; willing to jump to action to help his fellow comrades even after going through a life-threatening, major surgery
practical and fashion-forward with his bright green onesie. Function over form, and is prepared at all times by carrying around a spare onesie he will give without question to anyone - even complete strangers
has a surprising edge to him at the beginning of the series; he was ready to severely maim anybody that he saw as a genius
more dedicated than anyone. Was forced to face his own mortality and make a life-or-death decision in the name of his dream, after a literal crushing defeat, and he chose to fight for it. Inspiring
embodies the ideals of original series Naruto. True underdog, had nothing going for him, came from nothing with no legacy or powers, was so disadvantaged that he physically could not meet the bare minimum abilities of his peers. But he worked harder than everyone else and proved that he can be a great shinobi despite all the adversity he faced
Sasuke had to copy Lee’s moves with his Sharingan to succeed during Chuunin exams
cute as a button. Come on.
his fans are dedicated and make amazing work, fanart and fanfic
Kishimoto said he was his favorite character to draw. Boom. Favoritism. Love to see it.
pairs well with everyone. Platonic or romantic, Lee has a great dynamic with other characters
his summer outfit from Guardian of the Crescent Moon Kingdom was the best outfit in the movie
gave us Metal Lee! Blessed us with Metal Lee, really
was the character to beat in the early series if you wanted to show how strong you actually are
Gaara vs Rock Lee was one of the most iconic fights in the series, and everyone remembers where they were when they first saw Lee drop his weights. He owned that fight so hard that people forget he lost.
was wronged by the series. He deserves to win as justice.
got [submitter] personally through the worst times; his ability to persevere face of adversity convinced me I could do it too. He wasn’t special and neither was [submitter], but we didn’t need to be. We can make ourselves great. If no one else got me, Rock Lee’s got me
he’s one of the first non-jutsu using ninja so make such a big impact
was the first person to actually harm Gaara
played a huge part in Gaara becoming a better person
he’s one of the only people that can catch up to Sasuke and easily rivals Naruto in Taijutsu
his kind, determined and cheerful attitude is a joy to watch
Rock Lee removing his weights is easily one of the most iconic moments in the entire anime
has helped several submitters feel better by simply thinking about how he wouldn’t want them to think like that
objectively would’ve made a better protagonist based on the themes alone
KICKS MAJOR ASS
wrecked Sasukes shit, I like Sasuke but that was really funny
he looks like a frog. Who doesn’t like frogs
inspired Sasuke
fights are always entertaining, they’re very well choreographed
he forgave Gaara for nearly killing him and nearly ending his dreams; he was never even mad at him
Rock Lee vs Sasuke was iconic
his heart is so full of love
never did anything wrong
had a squirrel befriend him
hard worker
good friend
rises to any challenge
when he does diss people they are the most brutal yet entertaining disses you ever hear
positive, weirdo, energetic, enthusiastic, joyful, chivalrous, motivated, dedicated, sweet
Lee and Neji had something homosexual going on
YOUTH !!!!
Kakashi
relatable as an adult
he is just an overworked guy who was told to watch some kids w LOTS of issues
needs therapy
good presence and guidance in Narutos life
interesting
cares about and is dedicated to his students very much
he is just cool
he is trying his best despite what he has been through in the past
is up for having fun but still knows when to be serious
was a narcissistic shit but grew out of it
has good intentions
sexy
wonderfully complex and well developed character
incredibly resilient and supportive
a sad and deeply broken man
always willing to give his life to protect them and his other precious people
just wanted everything to be ok for once in his life
hated Danzo
his friendship with Gai is adorable
the way he teases Tenzo is fun
he’s known as cool and aloof but in reality he’s a huge dork
Gai would want him to win
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killersfool · 5 months
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hiiii i’ve a wee fluff imagine idea for bobby!! : )
bobby and the reader live together in a flat in dublin and the reader goes to trinity uni to study english literature (or smt else that has like a lot of reading and essay writing anol that craic) and she’s falling behind in a lot of her assignments and it’s all piling up and she’s just all overwhelmed and doesn’t know how to cope.
she ends up breaking down into sobs or shutting down at random points in the day due to stress and rob hasn’t got a clue what’s wrong and keeps noticing these random break downs throughout the week.
basically he comforts reader and helps to organise herself and just all fluffy cute comfort fic <333
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If I could flip back time, bend the seconds and go back three years ago, I would do it right now.
Pile after pile of flashcards, annotated books with pastel post-it notes shooting out of the sides, folders of Irish poetry I can hardly understand, tattered photocopies of Hozier lyrics, every work of Shakespeare staring at me from my overcrowded booksheld — dusty, messy, probably even dank. Miss Carter has decided to set three more assignments onto my workload for the week. An essay on crime fiction (I haven't even read the first book on the reading list), my creative writing portfolio and then another essay analysing a piece poetry of my choice. Reading and highlighting Hozier's lyrics of 'I, Carrion (Icarian)' is the only thing keeping me going. Phoebe Bridgers blasts through my ears. It's quarter to 11. I need a break. An early night would be nice. Or TV. But do I really want to sit next to Robert whilst he watches his weird YouTube videos?
I kick my table. Not out of anger. Not out of irritation. I just want to see all of my notes topple ontp the floor. They do. Then I'm kicking the table three more times. Or maybe eight. All my flashcards are on the carpeted  floor, next to my discarded, empty packet of pinballs. I'd stolen them from Robert's stash. He'll never find out.
Climbing over my pile of unread books by my doorway, I push open the door. It squeaks. Some oiling would be nice. Trinity college really provides the best for their students! 
I still wish my roommate was also doing English, someone to bond with over shared trauma, to gossip about our nightmarish teachers and fellow students. But no, this guy is doing a degree in bloody mathematics. The complete dichotomy of English. No similarities. No way of comparing the courses to eachother. Him and his terrifying videos that he watches with his shoes up on the armrest, cheek in his open palm, drinking a cup of tea. Like it's that simple. Numbers and sin, cos, tan and circle theorems and whatever tragic nonsense is being spouted in his lectures.
He hardly speaks to me. Three years together and I barely know him. Sometimes I tag along with him when he goes out for breakfast. Once every two weeks. Sunday morning. We talk about school, about friends, about anything that pops in our heads. Yesterday we spoke about music. He originally wanted to pursue a career in music. A band. But they didn't work out. He took a gap year to pursue this group. So he's a year older than all of the other third years. He doesn't let that faze him. When he told me stories about his band, 'Inhaler', I had to lose eye contact, look down at the pink marshmellos floating about in my cup. He looked lost. This wasn't the place for him. He missed the confidence upon stage, the ability of making something out of nothing. Life is unfair. That is when I realised it. Hearing about shattered dreams and names of songs that were never produced.
I also realise life is unfair right now, as I accidentally bang my hip onto the kicthen island, the knife-like corner lodging itself into my skin. It's like the world is against me. 
Sometimes I wonder if Robert thinks I'm an idiot. I feel like I'm an idiot when I walk past his bedroom, hunched over his laptop, headphones on as he works through the most difficult maths questions I've ever encountered in my life. He makes university seem easy. Has his allocated times for study, going out with friends, the gym, practicing bass, going though record shops, meals, watching TV. Everytime he gets home, he drops his things down in the kitchen. I sneak a glance at the big green 'A*' on all of his test papers. I look up to him. His intelligence, his masterful management of time. I'm always too frightened to ask him how he does it. He'll think I'm stalking him. 
Me, on the other hand, I waste time. I don't have balance. I never have time to be with my friends. Always locked up in my room. A prisoner. Essay after essay. Poem after poem. Book after book. A constant cycle I've been in for three whole years. The stress is weighing down on me like a hundred bags of bricks. I need to stop for a second. To breathe in. To calm down.
So I do the last thing I would normally do. I go into the living room and sit beside Robert on the sofa. He's half asleep, jeans cuffed, hair all over his face. He sees me walk in, glances up, eyes big and speculting. He instantly moves his spindly, spider-like legs from the armrest to give me some space. I can hear some sort of maths video playing on the TV. I'm scared. At least it's not English. I'm immune to maths. It doesn't affect me anymore. Whatever logorhythmic scale this American YouTube man is yapping about isn't making my face contort at all — it's like sorcery.
This could be a way of winding down. Maths. I'm calmer now. No changes of focus or narrowing of perspective. No pathetic fallacy or magical realism. Just messes of words that don't really make sense at all.
"'D'you want to watch TV? I can turn this off if you want." Robert has his thumb on the home button.
"Leave it on. I just need a moment."
He dubiously puts the remote back down. He yawns, stretching out his arms and leaning back. I hate it when boys do that. With his parted, manspreaded legs, adams apple bobbing, head rolled back. It's idiotic. Completely idiotic. He doesn't seem too intrigued by Mr American man. The video is a guy next to a whiteboard writing millions of brain-numbing equtions. Robert is nodding along. I think I'm going to cry. I don't know why I want to right now. My hip is actually starting to throb and ache. I look down at my jeans. There's a hole in them. There's blood. It's wet. I hadn't noticed before. It's properly pouring out blood.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I exclaim, hand pressing down onto the cut through my jeans.
Robert swiftly nears me. He's looking at me up and down, hands trying to find a place to move to. It's dark in the room. He reaches for the lamp switch. "What is it? Are you okay?"
"I'm bleeding. Jesus christ. That kills. Fuck me."
He passes me his jacket and says, "Apply some pressure." 
Then he runs out of the room. Fast as a plane. A man on a mission. Long curls dancing to the rhythm of his steps. Mr American man won't shut up about algebraic expressions. He's got a really bald head. Glimmering. 
Robert is back. He has bandages. I don't know where he got those from. Antiseptic wipes, plasters, sweets, even a cup of tea. He was only gone for about five seconds. How did he manage to get all of that? He hands me the cup of tea and sweets whilst asking, "What happened?"
"I walked into the island like an eejit. I'm so feckin' stupid."
"Just breathe, okay. You're not an eejit. I do that every day." 
I have to unzip my jeans to let him check the cut. Which is awkward, to say the least. He's looking at me like a doctor — not really caring about seeing my skin — but I'm still so shy around him. He sees me struggle with the button. He undoes it, fingers coming in contact with mine. They're slender. So very perfect for the bass guitar. Then he's unzipping my jeans. Only the tiniest bit. A mere centimetre of my knickers appear out of the top. Any more than that and I'd be flush as a tomato. I've always had a little crush on Robert. Being stuck with a really smart bass guitarist with the dreamiest eyes for three years is enough to make a person fall. The reason I've been avoiding him lately has been due to that fact. I don't want to make it obvious.
He finds the cut. It's bled through my knickers, making a big blot of dark red. He pulls down the waistband of my pants, prepared to wipe the wound. I have to grind my teeth together to prevent a sob from escaping me. I'm crying. Stressed and hurt and just wanting to dissolve into nothing. The cold draft of wind isn't improving the situation. If only there was no such thing as coursework and I couldn't glide my way through university like Robert. 
More and more blood. I think I might pass out. The blue-eyed boy is knelt down on the floor, knees biting into the carpet so that he can properly see where to put the bandage. 
"So how's English going?" He's not looking at me. Only at the wound. I don't think he's noticed that I'm crying. I don't want him to. I cover my face with bloody hands, accidentally smearing the metallic substance onto my nose. 
I don't know what to say. Do I tell him how much I regret picking it? Do I make this already awkward situation about ten times worse? I hate when people pity me. I hate when I feel like eyes are lingering for far too long when I cry. But when Robert looks at me, it's different. The pools of serenity circling his iris aren't looking down at me with a sort of aristocracy. That's how my English peers stare me down. No, instead, he's looking at me like there's a billion questions rushing across his forehead. He just needs to decide which one to ask. Or to simply say nothing. Like I am. We've both learnt how to cohabit in silence. To walk past eachother and ignore the feathers of conversation falling between us. We're busy. Always busy. Except for those perfect Monday mornings that I always look forward to. Especially the one time when he showed me around his favourite record store. He had asked me to choose him a record to buy. I walked through the entire shop, fingers shifting records, reading unfamiliar artist names. Then, I saw it, the — now bane of my existence — Hozier's 'unreal unearth'. He bought it. He'd told me he only really knew 'Take Me To Church'. I'd leant against the till as he paid and said, 'it'll change your life.' Then he'd locked himself in his room. Through the ever so thin walls — paper thin — I could hear each track hum into my room. I never got the chance to talk to him about the album. I think the thought of bringing it up made me feel sick — due to the English essay upstairs still waiting patiently to be finished.
Now there is an excuse. To talk. I'm injured. I don't want to move. He's still attempting to wrap a bandage over my stomach, then across my back until it's around my torso. I feel his fingers graze my skin with every subtle movement, along my spine, the small of my back, my abdomen, my hip bone. He's still looking at me. Searching. Like I'm a new island and he's an explorer trying to name me.
"What's up, sweetheart?" He finally talks again. His words are throaty, emananting from the pits of his throat. He's still wrapping, waiting for an answer.
"Just college. You know. It's killing me."
He shakes his head. "You're so smart."
"Says you."
He shakes his head. "Look, this might be a bit weird but sometimes when you leave random essays lying around or even creative writing. I read them. They're incredible. Your mind just works in such an interesting way."
I'm at a loss for words. He reads those? Those are usually just failed attempts that I toss aside. Scrap paper. Strange drawings. I don't even want to look at them.
"You get top grades in every test," I sigh. "I'm barely passing. I'm the worst in the class. My professors hate me, I've got so much work, I'm falling behind in every assignment—"
Then I'm properly crying. Sobbing. Breathing so heavily I think I might collapse. Heaving. Sniffling. Covering my face so he can't see me. I'm like a child. Pathetic. Stupid. Worthless. I was never good enough for Trinity. Why did they let me in?
Warm arms, press of skin. Just above the wound, over my chest, arms dig into my body, hugging me from behind. Head burrowing onto my shoulders, knees into the sofa. His lips ghost the back of my neck. Tears are falling down. He turns me around to face him. I hate how he's seeing me like this. My cries are usually saved for when he's out with friends or blasting music on his record player. He's never seen me this vulnerable, just utterly ripped into shreds by the hands of life. His scent is making me feel better, the tissue now on my cheek makes me feel better, the quiet words of 'breathe, let it all out, it's okay' make me feel better. He's calming me down. I start to forget what I was even crying about when I look into his eyes. This intense eye contact. Remembering his height. Even sat down, his torso is far longer than mine.
"I've got an idea," he murmurs, peeling his body away. I miss the warmth. I miss the touch. 
"What is it?"
"We should go somewhere. Get out for a bit. Say it's a 'mental health field trip'." He curls his fingers to accentuate the apostrophes."Maybe down to the Cliffs of Moher. When you're all healed up of course."
"Give me a week."
"A week? I'll be the judge of that." He raises an eyebrow, now tying up the bandage.
"Where did you learn all this?"
"I'm actually first aid trained. Did it in my first week of uni." He takes a deep breath, settles back onto the sofa. 
I take a sip of my tea. My eyes are surely blotchy and red. I bet there's mascara all over my face. "Thank you so much."
"No problem at all. Do you want to tell me what's going on? Is there any way I can help?" He's referring to my school work. "I was alright at English in high school. No where near as good as you are. But maybe another opinion might help you."
"I'm really stuck on a Hozier analysis."
"I never told you how much I love that album. It's perfect." His eyes glow like they do when he's talking about something he loves. Usually it's caused by talking about playing bass, but right now it's due to the beauty of Hozier's music. "I learned the bass line of De Selby part two."
"Show me. Now." I don't even ask. It's simply a demand. Anything to take my mind away from that cut still bleeding profusely. A little concert would be nice. Especially if said concert involves watching Robert play bass. I sometimes peek through the crack in the doorway to see him sat down on his bed, pick between his index and thumb, bass guitar on his lap, headphones over his ears. The pure concentration on his face is unparalleled. Notes thrum quietly through the room. He falls into any piece of music.
"Alright." He laughs at my enthusiasm. "Then I'll help with your English."
"Thanks." This is probably the most I've ever spoken to him. I'm mumbling each word, not wanting to look into his eyes.
He disappears once again. This time I hear the thudding footsteps over creaky floorboards. I hear a door squeak open, the faint patter of rain upon the ceiling, the quiet murmur of distant sirens as night blooms. It's tranquil. For a moment, I'm at peace. Until I remember the stack of unread books in my bedroom. I groan into my hands. Everything just keeps getting worse and worse and—
He's back. Not empty handed. Bass in one hand, Hozier lyrics and my pencil case in the other.
"I emailed your professor about the trip. I'm sure she'll be okay with it." He's off again. He comes through the door with his amp and lead. He plugs both in. 
"You're a life saver, Rob," I say.
He starts twisting around the knobs on the bass. Volume up. Then he's tuning. He smiles up at me. I think I'm staring. I think he can tell. His long fingers, tattoos, rings. It's all too much. My fingers are restlessly tapping the armrest. My legs are up on the coffee table. He pulls out his phone and plays the song. Then I'm lost in the music. His eyes are closed as he slides his fingers up and down the neck of the bass, as he stomps his feet down on the carpet to every drum beat. If only I could go back to the days I'd go to concerts every day. If only I could go back and see 'Inhaler' on a world tour, watch Robert from the crowd, completely in his element. Exhilarated, chanting, knowing every lyric like it's my mother tongue. Sometimes I wonder what life could've been like if the band had worked out. If the world did realise just how incredible they are. But, here, appreciating each pluck of every string, the grin as he watches me. I can't take that for granted. 
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tyler-lawson · 2 years
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The Steam Tunnels - Part 2 - March!
Scott slowly turned back to face me, his chains jingling, the leg irons scraping on the concrete floor. He hunched his shoulders and pulled his arms in close, doing his best to shield his naked chest. As best he could, he started to cross his arms across his stomach, sort of hugging himself in a self-soothing position.
"Well, Scott. You already know them, but, I still need to read you your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"
"Yes, sir." He said, submissively, hanging his head and continuing to wrap his arms around himself as much as the short chain between his wrists allowed.
"How much trouble am I in, sir?"
"A lot. I don't know what all is going to happen to you, but, for now, I am going to have to take you back to the station."
I grab his arm, and start to pull him away from the door.
"Ow, ow, ow. This ankle cuff is really cutting into my heel." Scott whines, and he bends over trying to adjust the cuff on his ankle.
"You can adjust it as much as you want, but I am not loosening it.”
He fiddles with his ankle for a while, as I slide the heavy door out of the way. When he bent down, he forgot that his hands were the only thing holding his large jeans up, and when he stood back up, his jeans slid down so they were completely below his boxer briefs. He caught them as they passed his thighs before they otherwise would have called all the way to his ankles.
He grabbed the waistband of his jeans, and held them as best he could. They had called so low that he could not pull them back up, as they were now bound by friction against the back of his legs.
"Can you help me adjust my jeans?" He asked, looking up at me with pleading eyes.
"Nope, you are just going to have to march across campus like that." I said, grabbing his arm and leading him into the steam tunnels, turning out the light in the storage room and closing the heavy metal door behind us.
"Please!" He begged. "Can you just stop for a second?"
"Nope." I responded, tugging him along down the tunnel. I spotted his torn shirt and belt, and retrieved them off of the bolts, before continuing on. I pulled him down the hallway, him slightly hunched desperately clinging on to his jeans hanging precariously around his thighs, tripping as his jeans and leg irons each restricted his movement.
When we got to the intersection of the main tunnel with the small offshoot headed to the math department, I noticed the hoodie he had borrowed from the department on the ground and picked it up, adding to my collection of his clothes hanging over my arm.
"Can I at least get my hoodie? Please? It is going to be so cold out there. You can just slide it over my arms."
"This is not _your_ hoodie." I retorted, "It belongs to the department, for use by department members. You are not a member in good standing anymore." I continued, tugging harder on his arm and making him slide and shuffle.
I unlock the metal-barred door, and walk him past it and lead him up the stairs. They are hard for him to navigate, as I pull him by his arm up the stairs, his shackles stymie his ability to quickly progress. The chain of his leg irons clatters loudly against each step, shattering the otherwise quiet of the building.
By the time he has managed to climb to the top of the stairs, the racket appears to have attracted the attention of some of the students working late at night in one of the labs, and several guys have now gathered in the hallway, watching me drag my prisoner through the building. They all pull out their phones and start taking pictures and videos of my half-naked captive sagging dangerously close to completely losing his pants.
Scott tries in vain to hide his face as he sees his fellow students documenting his humiliating arrest, knowing that within the hour his face and body are going to be plastered all over the campus messaging groups. He is unable to duck his face too much, as his hunched stance holding his pants up requires that he keep his back somewhat straight or his pants with hang down around his knees.
Scott's humiliation continues when we walk out of the building, and the small number of students walking around this late at night all stop to take notice. He shivers both from embarrassment and the night chill as he is walked shirtless and barely holding onto his pants across campus.
When we finally get to the police station, a small house that has been converted into a police station, I unlock the front door and walk him inside. We walk into the waiting room, with two plush chairs flanking the doorway. Ahead of us is the reception desk, currently unoccupied. Behind the desk, in full view of the waiting area is a small barred cage, 6ft in length and 4 feet wide. It has a metal bench with a bare mattress.
I walk Scott behind the reception desk, pull out my keys and start unlocking the door to the cage.
"What is going to happen to me now?" He asks, seemingly resigned to his fate. I maneuver him into the cage, and shut the door behind him, turning the key so that the heavy deadbolt snaps into place.
"Well, I can't do much until the chief gets in. So, you are going to at least be spending the night here."
"I am already caged up, can I get the shackles off?" He asks, holding his hands out expectantly towards me.
"Not right now. I will see when Sarge Gets in what his thoughts on the procedure should be. For now, just relax and get some sleep."
He sullenly accepts his fate, laying down on the mattress.
"Can I get some blankets or something?"
"I will go see what I can find."
Scott seems to have resigned himself to barely keeping his pants on, and just curls up in a ball facing the wall, his boxer brief covered butt sticking out.
***
A few hours go by, as I finish up the paperwork for this arrest and the rest of the night squad come in to finish their shift. Two officers come back, Sargeant Dan Owens and Officer Kevin Lo.
"What exactly was going through your mind, Scott." Sarg bellows in his practiced drill sargent tone.
Scott rouses from the nap he had fallen into with a start, quickly remembering that he is still shackled as he tries to bring his hands up to cover his core, the chains stretching to their max length and stopping with a snap. Scott turns over sitting on the bench, swinging his legs down to the floor.
"Stand up at attention!" Sarg continues.
Scott stands, completely forgetting that his pants are way too big for him. As he stands, letting his hands dangle in front of him, submissively, head hung slightly. His pants flop down around his ankles, leaving Scott standing barely clothed in just his boxer briefs. His hands hang just in front of his junk, shielding him slightly. Scott resignedly continues to stand, knowing that he would be reprimanded if he did anything but stand at attention.
"You were trusted with so much access responsibility. You let down me, you let down Officer Lawson, you let down your fellow students, and most of all, you let down yourself."
"Yes, sir." Scott mumbles. "I am sorry, sir."
"You darn well better be. And you had better learn a huge lesson from his. Because I don't want to ever see you back in here, shackled like this." SargE continues, in a complex form of controlled rage.
"Good work, Officer Lawson. This was a coup for your form of community policing. I am looking forward to what else you can do in this space."
"Thank you, Sargeant." I say, snapping to attention.
"Now, Chief and I have been talking. And we have a plan, if you, Officer, are interested in taking this operation further."
"Sir, yes, sir." I snap back, excited to hear what Sarge is thinking.
"And you, Scott." Sarge says, turning back to Scott, still standing at attention, hands covering his boxer brief-clad crotch. "If you help us out with his, you might just be able to redeem yourself."
Scott looks up, somewhat confused, but hope starting to cross his face.
"If you are both in, here is how it is going to go down."
(Continued thanks to @saggerjordancuffed for the pictures and inspiration for this story. I have a few other stories in the backlog that I am working on that I will post next. The next chapter in this story will be posted on Halloween.)
(I have a backlog of other stories I am working on, but, I intend to publish the next chapter of his story on Halloween.)
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fandomsareforlife · 1 year
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Yes, I am back at it again! I finally finished another fic for @badthingshappenbingo ! It’s a Ninjago fanfic, and it features Gravis with Bolobo and Shade as background characters!
This will feature underage characters doing drugs, and getting caught with them. I have not personally done drugs in my own life, so please know that this is not a completely factual account of what someone who does might go through.
Summary is below the cut.
Gravis was not a very good student. He was not even a good student. His grades were just barely above passing. It was only the fact that Gravis did not want to repeat his senior year that kept his grades above passing.
It was not always like this, but things had gotten rough in the past few years. There was not really any way that Gravis could keep his grades up for very long.
But that wouldn’t matter to Gravis for much longer. Gravis was getting something that was for sure going to help for a bit. All Gravis needed to do was get to the back lot.
Pulling his hat down over his ears, Gravis walked into the backlot of the high school. It was a decently sheltered area from the snow, but it was still freezing. That didn’t mean much to Gravis, though. He wouldn’t be able to feel it in a few minutes.
Glancing around, Gravis found who he was.
Bolobo Forst. He was a fellow senior, an avid gardener, and the school’s best drug dealer. Of course, most people had no idea about him, or Gravis for that matter. He was sitting on a pile of boxes with a book in his hand. Somehow, Bolobo still managed to be a good student completely stoned.
Bolobo looked up from his book when Gravis got close enough. “Yo, mate. What ya here for?” Bolobo slurred. His eyes were wide awake but hazy. It was obvious that Bolobo clearly was on something, most likely alcohol. Thankfully, Bolobo somehow had the ability to be clear minded enough to do some high level thinking and transactions.
“My usual,” Gravis responded. Bolobo nodded and pulled out a box.
“That would be $40, thank you very much.” Bolobo held out an unsuspecting plastic container that was filled with pot-infused sweets, Adderall, and xanax and exchanged it with the money in Gravis’s hand. Gravis stood there, waiting for Bolobo to acknowledge him again.
Bolobo looked back up at Gravis. “Wanna stay here or no?”
Gravis allowed a smile to escape his face. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I want to sit here with you?”
Bolobo chuckled. “Fair enough. I am pretty awesome, you know.”
Gravis raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Who says that?”
“All the people who come to me for their fix. You called me that a while ago actually.”
Gravis sputtered. “I-I didn’t. I’m sure most people who did were probably on something.”
Bolobo smirked. “Actually, most of them were sober. And you called me awesome when you were completely sober. It was after the time when you were forced to quit for a few weeks.”
Gravis rolled his eyes as he struggled to open the container. “That doesn’t count. I was probably desperate and wanted a fix. Anyway, I barely remember all the way back then. So that doesn’t count.”
“Why not?” Bolobo questioned cheekily. “We always make fun of people for what they do when they are drunk, so why can’t I make fun of you about things you did when you were high?”
Gravis couldn’t think of a clever comeback to that.
“Fine,” Gravis scoffed. “I guess you win. Happy now?”
“Very,” assured Bolobo.
The two descended into comfortable silence. The backlot had become a safe haven to the two, and they didn’t need to have words to communicate with each other. They could just be in the same place without having any word exchanged between them. All that was exchanged was money and drugs.
Part of that could also be the fuzziness of Gravis’s head. The chemicals that were infused in the brownie made Gravis’s head fuzzy in a good way. Gravis couldn’t make himself care so much about everything. The overwhelming pressure Gravis usually faced wasn’t as relevant anymore. It was lit.
Eventually, it became dark, and the two had to part ways. Gravis had to be back before curfew. Gravis stuffed the plastic container back into his backpack. It wouldn’t do to get caught with its contents.
“See you later,” Gravis stated as he left. Bolobo just nodded with his headphones firmly on his ears.
Gravis left the backlot with a heavy heart. He didn’t want to leave the atmosphere of it, and his head wasn’t as fuzzy as he liked. The chemicals were wearing off. Gravis still had some things that could help that issue, but that was irritating.
Gravis simply hoped that wasn’t a sign of things to come.
—-
Gravis should have seen this coming.
His mom was home for once. While that might seem like a good thing for some people, Gravis hated it when his mom was home.
Samantha Kemp was Gravis’s mom, and she was not winning any awards for being a good mom anytime soon. She had done as well as expected, with being a drug addict and a single mom for about 6 years at this point.
But she wasn’t by any means kind or supportive of Gravis. Gravis had often gone hungry after his dad left until he learned how to cook for himself. He also had learned to tend to his injuries himself after it became clear that his mom wouldn’t take him to any medical facilities for any of them.
Gravis could understand why she hadn’t taken the best care of him. His dad had just left them when Gravis was twelve, and it basically destroyed his home life. His dad was the glue of the family. When he left, Gravis’s mom didn’t know how to connect with her son, and Gravis felt the same towards his mom.
But that all made it so when his mom was home and awake, Gravis just wanted to curl up.
“Hi, mom,” Gravis greeted. His mom was on the sofa in the living room, and she had a bottle of whiskey in her hand.
Gravis’s mom gave him a lazy smile. That was good. She was in a floaty state, so she probably wouldn’t yell too much.
“Hey, kid,” Gravis’s mom slurred. “Didn’t realize you were home.”
“Yeah.” Gravis made sure to keep his distance.
Gravis’s mom asked, “So how was your day? Was it good? Still keeping your promise?” Her words progressively became more and more slurred, and Gravis had to strain to figure out what she was asking.
Oh, the promise. The promise was to not do drugs. Gravis had been breaking the promise since he was 14.
“Yeah, it was good. And yes mom, I have been keeping my promise,” Gravis lied. His day was only good because of the drugs flowing in his system. At least he had only stuck to poisoning his brain outside of school hours.
Gravis’s mom gave Gravis a strained smile. “That’s good.”
After a few moments of awkward silence, Gravis was motioned to leave. Gravis gratefully took the opportunity to do so. He did not want to stay with his mom for a moment longer.
Retreating into his room, Gravis dug into his backpack. Under his books was the plastic container with the drugs.
Popping an adderall into his mouth, Gravis decided to tackle the pile of his homework. While he technically could just not do it, it would be easier to do some of it. It probably would be helpful if he actually did some of the homework he was supposed to turn in by the end of the year if he wanted to graduate.
Gravis worked all throughout the night, and managed to finish almost half of his work.
Gravis’s mom didn’t call Gravis down for dinner at all. Gravis pretended not to care.
Gravis didn’t need his mom to care about him. He was used to this.
Gravis could bury the hurt deep down in his heart and he could learn to not care.
—--
High school wasn’t a great place for anyone, but Gravis thought he was doing a pretty good job with keeping himself happy.
Gravis made sure to take the easiest classes he could get away with. This meant that he and Bolobo only had gym together, but Gravis could see some other kids he was acquaintances with through the backlot.
Like Nightshade ‘Shade’ Darkley-Oppenheimer He was an underclassman to Gravis, but he was both surprisingly mature. He also happened to be in his math class.
Walking into the school, Gravis popped a Xanax and Adderall. He was taking a risk, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to take anything yet.
Scanning the halls, Gravis noticed Shade standing by one of the classroom doors.
“Hey,” greeted Gravis. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Shade looked up at Gravis’s voice.
“Hi,” Shade whispered. “How are you?” It was clear that something was up with him.
“Good. How are you?” Gravis responded.
Shade shrugged. “Not doing great. Head’s been fuzzy.”
A frown made its way to Gravis’s face. “Why is it fuzzy? I thought you had ways of dealing with it?” Those ways being drugs went unsaid.
Shade shook his head. “Got caught with everything by gramps.Even my blockers. You know how he is. He took all of my stash for himself and took almost all of my money. Now I have to wait to get more funds.”
Gravis couldn’t believe it. Shade was probably one of the most subtle drug user there was. He only took hormone blockers and Xanax, and he desperately needed them. Without them, he was apparently an anxious mess who could barely function.
Gravis asked softly, “Do you mind if I ask you something in private?” Shade shook his head, and Gravis walked towards a fairly abandoned hallway. It only led towards the trophy room, so no one went there.
“Can I give you some Xanax?” Gravis inquired. He didn’t really want to part with his stash, but he did not want Shade getting hurt.
Shade looked regretful when he replied, “No. I have to take drug tests everyday now, and they last for another two months. Thanks, though.”
Gravis wanted to punch Shade’s grandfather. The fact that he would take something away from Shade that helped him so much was almost deplorable.
Gravis took a deep breath. “Are you going to be okay?”
Shade mumbled, “Probably. I can survive.”
The warning bell rang, informing the two they only had 5 minutes to get to class.
“See you in math,” Shade stated.
Gravis forced the anger in him down and headed to his first period class.
Hopefully, this was not a sign of things to come.
—---------
Gravis should have really known that this lifestyle wouldn’t last forever. He should have realized that he would eventually get caught.
Apparently the goddamn varsity club or something like that wanted to use the backlot for a club meet. When they got there, they immediately noticed the smokers and drinkers. Even though Gravis and Bolobo weren’t, they also had to take a drug test.
While Gravis had taken drug tests before without getting caught, he had time to prepare for them. This one he had no time to.
The drug test came back positive.
Now Gravis was forced to sit outside the principal’s office while they tried to get in contact with his mom.
Gravis knew that his mom wasn’t going to pick up her phone. She was completely and utterly stoned by the time he left for school, and she was probably passed out by now.
But he wasn’t going to say anything. No one but Bolobo knew that Gravis’s mom had a drug addiction. At least until now.
Gravis couldn’t help but feel a very strong urge to have a Xanax or a smoke. He knew he should not want to, but he was feeling on edge. A Xanax would probably help that, but he couldn’t have one.
Thankfully, some box breathing helped a bit. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it made sure Gravis didn’t go into a panic attack.
Eventually, Gravis was called into the principal’s office. Inside the office, there was the principal and the counselor. Gravis couldn’t remember their names for the life of him.
“Sit down, Gravis,” commanded the principal. “I hope you understand why you are here.”
Taking a seat, Gravis nodded. The counselor’s face pinched up.
“If you understand why, then why don't you explain what is wrong with the situation?” challenged the counselor.
Gravis pretended to take a few moments to think on the answer, before responding, “Is it because doing drugs will damage my chances for having a good life?”
The principal shook his head. “No, I am talking about the situation with your mother. Although the fact that you did drugs illegally is also a very big issue.”
Gravis couldn’t think of a good lie. What was he supposed to say that wouldn’t raise suspicions almost immediately?
“My mom is probably at work,” Gravis lied. Although, doing drugs was almost like a job in a weird way.
“Do you know what she does that is so important that she refuses to answer her phone?” the counselor interrogated.
Gravis shrugged. “Not sure. My mom does a bunch of different jobs, and she’s really strict about not using her phone at work. Apparently, it distracts her.”
If possible, the counselor's face became more irritated. “Are you sure you have no way to contact your mother?”
“No, not that I am aware of. I have not needed to do so.” Gravis wasn’t lying when he said this. He had always managed to get away with only having help from his meager friend group and never needed to rely on his mom.
The principal sighed. “Well, until your mother can get into contact with us, we have no option but to allow you to go home. Please inform your mother that we want to have a conversation with her as soon as she is available.”
Gravis nodded slowly. “I will. Anything else?”
“No,” the counselor stated. “You may go.”
Gravis didn’t think he had ever left a room as fast as he did that moment.
This was so messed up. Gravis needed to figure out a way to make sure that he wouldn’t get in trouble.
Gravis was completely and utterly messed up.
—------------------------------
Telling his mom was the scariest thing that Gravis ever had to do. Of course, delaying it for days probably didn’t help. But Gravis was nothing if not a procrastinator.
His mom was surprisingly sober when Gravis told her what had happened. And just like he predicted, she flew into a hot rage. Gravis was just thankful that she hadn’t had any glass near her. Otherwise, he would have ended up in the hospital.
She had marched right into his school the next morning. The principal and the counselor were very irritated at the fact that Gravis had delayed telling her for so long, but they had gotten right down to business.
Gravis was officially suspended for one week, and he would be forced to go into therapy. The school would have to conduct a home investigation about Gravis’s home life.
It was going to suck royally. Gravis didn’t want anything to change. He liked his life and changing it would suck.
But there was a small part of him that wanted to change his life. He didn’t want to just live his life with his head fuzzy and his body sluggish. Gravis wanted to see how the other side lived. He wanted to see if getting clean would make him feel the same as he did when he was a kid.
Gravis didn’t want to quit, but he had to at least try. If he didn’t, he had a sinking feeling he would regret not doing so for a long time.
—-
Gravis hated recovery. He hated it.
He always felt an itch inside of him, searching for something. His mind was still fuzzy, but it wasn’t a good kind of fuzzy. This fuzzy made him want to curl up in bed, and it made him want to not do anything at all for days on end.
Gravis also actually had to try at his classwork, for he didn’t have anything that would help him speed up the process. He went from just doing almost 3 weeks of assignments in one night to only doing 2 or 3 days. Still more than some people, but it was so slow for Gravis.
The therapist that was supposed to help Gravis also was not the kind of person he would willing seek out himself. The therapist, Rachel, was way too peppy for Gravis’s taste, and she always tried to rationalize his feelings. She also tried to get Gravis to open up about his dad, but Gravis wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.
Gravis’s dad had been gone from his son’s life for a long time. Gravis had come to terms with that fact for a long time by then.
But Rachel still wouldn’t believe Gravis when he told her that he was not torn up on his dad anymore. She kept insisting that his dad leaving led Gravis to doing drugs.
Gravis’s mom also was still as unbearable as ever. She kept drinking and smoking everywhere in the house, but she was also a huge hypocrite as well. She kept digging through Gravis’s backpack as soon as he came home, and she kept yelling at him about lying to her. Gravis’s mom also made it a point to keep tabs on Gravis at all times, and she pretended that she was worried for Gravis’s safety. But they both knew it was to make sure Gravis didn’t lie to her again.
Gravis had to endure her for an hour three times a week.
But the worst part was that Gravis was prohibited from talking to Bolobo anymore. While they rarely saw each other outside of the backlot, they were pretty good friends. But now they were forced to not contact the other for anything. Something about ‘being bad influences on each other’ and ‘enabling the other’ and ‘codependency.’
So not only did Gravis need to go cold turkey, and he had to talk to the worst therapist ever, but he couldn’t even talk to his best friend.
Gravis knew that once he turned eighteen, he would be allowed to change this, but that was almost 6 months away.
So Gravis had to endure this. He could do that.
—---
Eventually, life became a bit easier. It took over 4 months, but it became easier.
Gravis finally wasn’t feeling so fuzzy and sluggish all the time. Now, he could at least find the strength to get out of bed most days. Even if he could barely stay standing after that.
His therapist appointments have been reduced to only one time a week, although they were still an hour each. They had gotten a bit better, since Rachel decided to stop going on and on about Gravis’s dad. Now, the two usually talked about what was going on in Gravis’s life.
Gravis also had finally gotten back into the habit of actually doing his school work again. It wasn’t a big deal really, but at the very least Gravis didn’t have to keep scrambling to keep up.
However, there were still some things that were still not the best.
Gravis’s mom was still drinking and smoking. While she could pretend all she wanted, she still was not doing anything to help herself.
Gravis wanted to scream at her. She was a hypocrite, and Gravis hated how much power she had over him.
It was even made worse by the fact that Bolobo and Gravis couldn’t see each other anymore. Gravis was under such strict restrictions as to who he was allowed to interact with by his mom, so he just straight up never talked to anyone.
Of course, Gravis should be okay with this. After all, he was doing better. He was not in danger of dying.
So why did he still feel so hollow? There was no one in the world who could answer that question for Gravis.
Gravis just had to survive.
He could become happier with his life.
He knew that he was just lying to himself.
He would be able to pass his classes.
If one ignored the fact that his grades were all Cs.
Eventually, he would be able to leave his mom’s grasp.
That was if there was a way for him to get out.
Gravis would have to just hold onto his hope.
Even though that seemed like it was a daunting task.
Everything was not going to be alright. There was many no reasons to worry.
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skyephobic · 2 years
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apologies for the late response!
first of all— hopefully those s'mores were delicious! just thinking about them makes me want to eat some now ugh
also i'm glad that my somewhat of an analysis and characterization is something good to read! and omg, yes, you are normal. but i didn't expect that we share an understanding on akane that it even made me more happier! i am excited to talk about this shit with someone else since my irl friends doesn't read tbhk argh!!!
and as much as i love the layered pancake-size angst in the "akane died and becomes full supernatural" au, the "born supernatural akane" is now living rent free because i'm thinking of a himbo akane just not understanding what the fuck is currently happening at kamome😭🙏 so i have to start a messy ramble again!!
second of all— hell yes! i agree with you that it is ironic that for someone who holds the title as the clock keeper of the present, the akane in this au doesn't understand what it means to live in the present. because as a supernatural who continues to live throughout century after century, he loses track of time (again, ironic) for he is often at his fellow clock keepers side and, after they became mystery number one, remained at their boundary because akane doesn't understand the importance or reason to interact with the current time/present/shit that is happening since it kept on changing and changing.
after all, what is the point of interacting with an everchanging world when you're the only one who remained the same? akane in this au probs once interacted with the humans 24/7 since he found them interesting and something, but stopped and isolated himself unless he wants to go insane if he kept on gaining and losing the humans he cared for as he adjusted to the unfamiliar environment only for it to change again and again.
and because i now lacked the capability to explain further and further, i shall bullet this shit please forgive me. also if these are ooc or not sooo akane, apologies in advance and please change or you can add them!!:
born-supernatural!akane is still like canon!akane but there are some certain changes (please add some if you want!)
he doesn't have an obsession with aoi due to not revolving around her for most of his life so his spontaneous love confessions never happen here, but he will found her cute and adorable after seeing her but wouldn't pursue
is confused about the current world but tries his best to understand so that he won't be ignorant (bullied). and because of this, he might be easier to be trick into believing some certain things (e.g. hanako lying to him that the humans are trapped inside the televisions and expected an embarrassing situation – all hanako got is akane punching the t.v. out of panic and running to teru/tsuchi for help, which then proceeded to akane strangling hanako out of embarrassment/humiliation/frustration/tired of his bullshit)
doesn't hate hate hate hate supernaturals but hate hate them for harming innocent humans
don't know if he gets along with tsuchigomori in canon, but i'm thinking that born-supernatural!akane gets along with tsuchi cause he kept on asking more about the past (where he was absent) and current shit that is happening (akane learned that hanako is a little piece of shit and thus, does no longer trust him on this kind of stuff)
akane hates change so he prefers to go along with his routine or being around with something familiar to him – as such, the rest of the mysteries and previous student-exorcists never met him due to his isolation within the clock keepers boundary. but there are times when he does leave: important meetings, using his abilities in certain events (unsure about these two), or dragging back mirai into their home (sure about this one). however, a certain student council prez and the certain toilet trio does encourage him to leave, which makes him embracing the change and finally understanding what it means to live in the present. in return, akane taught the blonde president what it means to just be teru and not a minamoto having the weight of the world on his shoulders
akane is probs powerful here since he isn't a contractor which means that he could stop time even much longer and can affect more targets. but his capabilities would lead to teru (who warns and advices kou) to be more careful and cautious around akane because time isn't something to mess with. but despite having that belief, terukane shenanigans still happens.
reason for the clock keepers in having names was because back then, the present learned that a name gives a person their own individuality. so he started asking around on what are some good names but then decided on "Kako" and "Mirai" because it is simple and somehow fits them. kako was surprised but appreciates it while mirai is bouncing around out of happiness. but as the present doesn't like the name genzai (because he doesn't want have a name that means "the present" when he still doesn't understand it), kako and mirai decided on "akane" because of his red hair and for being a simple name.
third of all— yes yes yes!!! i also wonder on the reasons for kako and mirai to choose akane. like there must be a good reason for them since there are a bunch of other 12-y/o kids that can be tricked into accepting the contract with them. i am goddamn waiting and excited once (if, that is) aidairo revealed the important roles of the clock keepers in the story!
but in this au, however, i think that the clock keepers came from the same yokai race? like this race doesn't have a name, it just exists as these human-like supernaturals (that came from different sizes: a small-like elf to a being that towers over humans) came out of nowhere with enhanced speed (to be able to stop targets from moving which gives the illusion of them being fast), to heal (to be able to turn their bodies into its previous state seconds ago), and to rot those that their hands touched (to be able to speed up the state of an object). however, this race started to decreased because of the exorcists killing them for even though they have the power that is similar to time, they still have a weakness. then it started to declined until only three are left (spoiler: it's kako and mirai and akane)
and i think that their powers evolved and evolved until it does become similar to how someone controls time itself. but idk how this works so there's that
and that is all! sorry for the loooooong messy ramble and if the characterization isn't good!!
DONT WORRY ANON REALLY ur characterization is great hearing someone else as Very normal as me is relieving i dont have many friends who understand akane the way i do so im excited to ramble
he would 100% keep himself locked up in their boundary. i feel like the more he interacted with humans, the more he began to lose himself- because he isn't anything like them, and he never will be. he's probably watched some students grow up, others die before graduating- and it's all because there's nothing like the present. the present he controls, yet can't fix. watching the people he actually found interest in die or leave was probably really difficult, and that's why he'd give up interacting with them all together. the change is always so much for him and so he starts to isolate, either taking care of mirai [cuts up her apple slices. peels her apples. braids her hair. Sorru im obsessed with mirai and akane family dynamic] or just cleaning around since he doesn't need to stop time too often
adding onto your changes, i feel like he'd be much more stubborn than usual. he's always stuck in the denial stage when something new happens, and it's really difficult to get him to adjust to something new. i feel like he hates being a clock keeper for that reason. he controls something he fears, the present- full of constant change and liveliness. he would've preferred controlling the past or even the future because it's set in stone. the present is full of surprises and he hates surprises
he'd probably be infatuated with aoi only for a short time, but because she was the first person he talked to in a while. she'd be able to see him in this au for the plot relevance.. when akane decides to leave the boundary for something that isn't important he knocks into her and grows attached. though it's more of an innocent puppy crush that easily fades after a few rejections, they're more of like.. just friends
it's not like akane would be stupid as a born supernatural, rather.. in the past. like he doesn't know what the hell a twitter is or something. he's very dumb when it comes to present stuff hanako would be so good at tricking him but too good to the point where he needs to get teru or kako to help u are so right
THE LITTLE TERUKANE DETAILS ... they teach each other about stuff like that like akane gets teru to be himself and teru tells him all about the current time and akane finds himself falling for him while he talks and looks so focused he can feel his supernatural heart pound in his chest and everything
all in all ur points make so much sense how did u ever worry about mischaracterization ..
ur theories on their species is so interesting too?? ive never really thought it myself but that makes a lot of sense actually.. theres only three left i hope soon its two [i want akane to explode
ur asks are amazinf thank u for fueling my insane jshk thoughts
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kosher-martian · 1 month
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Garvin and the Technicolor Jury Summons 
Work has been stressful. Really stressful. And because I'm constantly having to save my PTO for religious holidays, I can never take a vacation outside of the normal workplace holiday schedule. (Yeah yeah discrimination, but I'm a public-sector employee in a red state... My boss just had to sign a legally-binding pledge effectively saying he is not now, nor has he ever been woke).
So imagine my surprise and delight (?) when I received a jury summons. This was my first jury summons in a long while and my first for federal cases. I had to work some crazy overtime to ensure division-wide projects could continue and I wouldn't have a mountain of work upon my return.
I told my boss about the summons a few weeks ago to prepare him for my absence. He said (copying directly from our work chat): "That's the solar eclipse day, my dude. What sort of omen is that? Good or bad? Def an omen of some kind."
I arrive at the courthouse at 7AM per the summons. Already there's a long line of people outside. It's cloudy, muggy, and threatening to rain. Following the lengthy instructions included with my summons, I have come wearing my only suit (purchased when I was 80-90 pounds heavier) and my most formal kippah (black velvet). The doors open and the line of people ahead of me slowly enters the building. I pass by through security, argue with the bailiff that my kippah is religious headwear until a kind US Marshal corrects him, and make my way to Jury Selection.
There are nearly 60 of us in the room. College students to retirees, all races, quite a few religions, and several income brackets were represented. A strange fellow walks in, 20 mins late. He's at most 5'3". Ginger, with pale skin, freckles, and bright orange hair. He's bald on top, but has let his hair grow long  enough to form a rat tail. He has a well-trimmed beard but no moustache. His eyes are so close together he's basically a cyclops. Unlike the other men, he has shown up in a T-shirt that reads "I am Garvin". He's also wearing a "hello my name is" name tag. I personally believe he arrived with it. I did not receive a name tag, and no one else was wearing one either. Garvin sits alone by himself.
We watch a long, boring video about the importance of being a juror, featuring Justice Sandra Day O'Connor (from when she was on the bench). Afterwards, we are asked to line up at the front of the room and receive our Prospective Juror number. We are then reseated according to our number. I am seated between a philosemitic pentecostal (long hair, jean skirt, the whole nine yards) and - you guessed it - Garvin.
Before I go much further, I should probably explain I have an unnatural ability to provoke unsolicited opinions from people. There's something about me which leads to people from all walks of life to share whatever unhinged manic word salad is bouncing around in their heads. I've had deranged incels explain the plot of Attack on Titan to me umprompted at the post office. I've had little old ladies give me their gardening podcast recommendations while standing in the cereal aisle at the grocery store. Random MAGA guys have tried to make me their token Jewish friend so they can win arguments in middle of an Arby's. And I have been asked (at least three times in the same Best Buy parking lot) to join the full spectrum of radical political movements by men driving hatchbacks with Dragonball Z vinyl wraps. It's a blessing. Or a curse.
Mrs Pentecostal leans over and assures me she will not, as her appearance would indicate, proselytize. She respects my people's beliefs (but still can't help referring to them as "misguided"), and in fact she loves Jews. Jesus was Jew, don't you know? For the remainder of the day, she quizzes me on various Jewish celebrities. She tells me with confidence that she doesn't drink alcohol because it "makes Jesus weep" but that she always encourages her friends and family that do drink to try Manischewitz. "Manischewitz," she says, "is doing the Lord's work."
But we're not here to talk about Mrs Pentecostal. We're here to talk about Garvin.
We leave the jury selection waiting room and proceed to the courtroom. Along the way, Garvin introduces himself. His name, I correctly ascertain from his shirt and self-funded name tag, is Garvin. Garvin sprays for mosquitoes. He'll also help you trap vermin as long as you agree to catch and release methods of pest control (ironic for a man WO sprays for mosquitoes). He has insomnia, but takes medication for it. His name, he reminds me, is Garvin.
We each have to tell our names, occupations, hobbies, and favorite color. Kosher Marty, IT, vintage electronics and Muppet discourse, green.
We are asked to wait in the hallway for 10 mins. Garvin asks if I know any programming languages. "COBOL", I answer. I explain what COBOL is. Garvin says I'm "one of the few capable of understanding the truth: Programming is just higher-order gematria." He does not elaborate further. (He also pronounces "gematria" as "jim-atria". This is the least of my concerns.) 
We return from our recess and continue the work of jury selection. A few hours later, we number less that 40. We are lead into a jury break room. Mrs Penetecostal is speaking with an elderly black man. Garvin sits next to me and asks if I'd like to continue our conversation from earlier. He continues without waiting for my reply.
"As an interpreter of higher order gematria," he asks, "would you say you agree that the US Constitution is divinely inspired?"
"Uhhh," say Kosher Marty
"Of course, that isn't to say it hasn't been perverted by man's corruptible nature. The 18th amendment was a satanic pact." says Garvin.
"Wh-what?"
"Alcohol is regulated by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. Right?"
"Yes, but-"
"The ATF is a subsidiary of the Department of Justice, as is the DEA, who regulate illicit substances such as cocaine, crack cocaine, fentanyl and the like, and of course crystal meth. These are all intoxicating substances, like hooch."
"Well the way they intoxicate you is different, I think, but sure????"
"HA! I knew it! So you see it too! The 21st Amendment is just a recontextualized rendering of the Book of [incomprehensible gibberish] of the Apocrypha! It reverses the satanic pact of Prohibition and upholds our God Given and Constitutionally Protected right to consume meth-amp-phetamines!"
"HUH!?!"
"Not to say that I would EVER imbibe such a chemical myself, but rather that God and Thomas Jefferson always intended us to have that temptation available. It's all there in the Constitution. That's why the age of majority needs to be 15. At 15 you need to be able to drive, drink, smoke, and snort your way across this great nation as long as you are willing to fight to defend it! Ergo summa cum laude: Meth-amp-phetamine Dispensaries are not only a good idea, but a necessary evil for society and western civilization."
"Are you really suggesting-"
"Of course the real question is why Prohibition was passed in the first place! It wouldn't have, had the Catholic Church not hidden the Apocrypha and burned down the Library of Alexandria. Herbet Hoover was the one that found an English translation in Jefferson's Presidential Library. It's all in the good book. Isn't that what you guys say? But more to the point, Prohibition was a Faustian pact between Lucifer, the Pope, and Susan B Anthony. But why would the Pope do that? Irish and German immigrants loved their pubs and beer gardens! Italians to! That's how the mob started! Kennedy was a rumrunner! That's why they killed him! Prohibition would hurt the very people the Pope claimed to intercede for! Do you know why he'd create Prohibition? I know why."
At this point, Mrs Pentecostal interjects: "Because the Pope worships the sun!" Mrs Pentecostal returns to her conversation.
"Precisely!" says Garvin, with a self-satisfied smile. He did not elaborate further.
We are ushered back into the courtroom, where jury selection continues until Mrs Pentecostal, Garvin, and I are all excused. On my walk back to the parking garage, Garvin stops me and suggests I look into the Waco Siege and "ATF-Vatican connections".
I did not get selected for jury duty. I have to go to back to work tomorrow.
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Entry 4: Challenges you faced
While I thoroughly enjoyed both internship opportunities, they weren’t without their challenges. One major challenge was the travel time from home to the organisations. To get to either, it was over an hour’s commute each way, through peak hour city traffic. To minimise this as much as possible, I organised to attend both internships on the same day; DSR during the day, and North in the evenings. This worked out perfectly and meant that time was used effectively. This was also cost-effective on saving money on petrol, and lessened my carbon footprint through minimising driving time.
There were also instances of communication delay, or no communication at all. I experienced this at the beginning of my internship at North, where I did not hear back from my internship supervisor there for a few weeks during the period of filling out the paperwork. This meant that I started my internship a week later than anticipated, as the paperwork needed to be filled out prior to commencing. It took from the 3rd of February 2023 to the 20th of February, including a follow up email to check on the process, to receive the paperwork back. On tasks at DSR, there was a communication delay, in which I didn’t receive all the necessary information or aspects to fully complete a task. To work around this, I completed the tasks to the best of my ability, and always ensured to follow up with additional emails.
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Paperwork follow up. (Royal, 2023).
Another challenge was knowing nobody who worked in either organisation, and while this was a great opportunity to network, it was also a bit nerve-wracking.  I took the time to get to know people and familiarise myself with them, but also to show them who I am and the skills I offer. It did help that at NMFC, I had a fellow student there who was also completing the internship. We supported each other and were able to problem solve any issues that arose together. One issue was not having the correct number jumper for a player, as it was awaiting embroidery of a logo – instead we selected another jumper for the player to wear that day, and registered it on the team list.
However, one of the biggest challenges I faced was external. I had a close family member pass away suddenly two days before his wedding, which not only turned my world on an axis, but my family’s as well. While I didn’t miss any days, this still played on my mind constantly and certainly impacted me mentally. To work through this, I leant on those around me, and focused on everything that I enjoyed doing.
I used my time management skills effectively, and used the practice of timetabling – which has been proven to improve productivity and planning (Cope, 2021; Gade & Yeo, 2019). This allowed to set prioritised tasks, both relating to the internship and not – such as studies, events, work and other commitments. This ensured that I used my time wisely and was as productive as possible.
References:
Cope, S. (2021, April 1). 18 effective time management strategies and techniques. Up Work. https://www.upwork.com/resources/time-management-strategies
Gade, L., & Yeo, H. L. (2019). Work–Life Integration and Time Management Strategies. Clinics in Colon and Rectal Surgery, 32(6), 442–449. https://doi.org/10.1055/s-0039-1693011
Royal, M. (2023, February 16). Paperwork follow up [email].
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urfavstonr1 · 1 year
Text
Burning Bright
Chapter 2
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Series- My Hero Academia
Pairings- Katsuki Bakugo/Original Female Charater. Eijiro Kirishima/Original Female Charater.
Current word count- 6147
Content Warnings- Graphic Depictions of Violence
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Yuka’s eyes fighting to wake up, as she hears a text go off on her phone. Sitting up groggy, looking over noticing Katsuki was gone and noticing the time on her phone as she opens the text. ‘He must of went to class..’ 
Katsuki: Didn’t want to wake you, but had to head out… but if you want I’ll be free after classes let out..
Yuka: I’d like that… I’ll be waiting~ 
Yuka sighs happily as she puts her phone to her chest, ‘have I died and gone to heaven!?’ Her phone then went off causing her to jump and almost dropping her phone, fumbling then catching it. Yuka tried to answer the phone as if she didn’t feel her soul just leave her body. “Hello?”
“It's your teacher Aizawa, this is Yuka right?”
“yea it’s me, what’s up? I’m surprised you’re calling me..” Yuka listening curiously.
Yuka could hear him clear his throat to answer her, “Me and the other teachers had an idea to help keep you busy while ur in between things right now and it can help you and other fellow students and help tutor some extra classes just for ability training and training exercises, which you were really good at in your class. I know you just graduated but it may be good for you and help you decide what you want. Would you like to try it out?”
Yuka thinks, “mmmm I don’t mind.. sounds interesting you can count me in. It will be nice to let loose a lil. What time? I’m gonna guess it’s an after class thing?”
“yup we plan to start it today, but if you can’t cause that’s too sudden you can join in on Monday.” 
“Nah this will be fine, I’ll meet you guys there.. normal practice area right? Or are you starting with training exercises?”
“We are meeting at the practice area first, so just meet us there.” Aizawa confirming her question.
“Ok! Sounds good I’ll see you then!” As they end their call, Yuka honestly feeling excited for today instead of dragging her feet out of bed. 
***
The final bell lets out the classes of U.A. and Aizawa already let all his students know about the optional extra training classes they will be having after school and where to meet up if any of them end up being interested, quite a bit of them seemed pretty excited for it. 
Kirishima and Katsuki and the rest of anyone in their class that was interested go get ready in their dorms and head to where they normally practice, Kirishima sending a text to Kaida.
Kirishima: ‘Hey did your teacher let you know about extra classes for training. We are doing it and was seeing if you’re joining too!’ He can feel his excitement boiling up. 
Kaida: ‘He told us, I plan to be there. I'm so excited! ^u^’
Class 3-A and 3-B enter the arena, Kirishima, Katsuki, and Kaida heading the crowd. Kaida excitedly rushes inside, not wanting to wait to spar with anyone. Aizawa walks out and gets ready to explain, “Alright everyone! Quiet down!” the room filling with silence, “Now, here is how this is gonna work.. You’re gonna split into groups of 3 to work on whatever you wish, teachers from U.A. and pro heroes will work with you to help you if needed, we also have a past student who just graduated from her class A to come in and help.” 
Yuka walking up to Aizawa introducing herself, “Let’s give it our all shall we?” with a light smile and a thumbs up to all the students. 
A gasp leaves her as she stops, hands reaching out and gently smacking Kirishima’s arm as she sees Yuka. She lets out an excited squeak as she bounces herself up and down. 
“Look! Look, it's Yuka! I get to spar with Yuka!” She lets out another squeal. 
“When you form your groups, you can pick who you think would be best for your group.. But if more than one group picks someone they will pick who they want to teach and help.” Aizawa finishes explaining, “You’re free to split up..” 
Kaida quickly grabs Kirishima’s arm, still bouncing in excitement. “Quick! Grab Katsuki!” The two rush towards the blond and pull him away from the crowd of students. 
“Let go of me!” Katsuki yells at the two, pulling away from their grasps and turns to glare at them. 
“Nope! You’re with us Bakugo. Besides, who else was gonna grab you?” Kaida crosses her arms with a smirk on her face. Katsuki grumbling as he follows behind them.
“Shut up you fucking spaz.” He grumbles as they walk.
“I’m not a spaz, I’m just excited!” She responds as she walks with a bounce in her step. 
“You’re emotions flip on a fucking coin, Being around you is like a rollercoaster of bullshit.” 
“If you don’t want to be set on fire I would shut the fuck up.”
“Is that a fucking challenge?” Katsuki growls.
“Guys-” Kirishima tries to interrupt only to be cut off.
Kaida stops and spins on her heel to look at Katsuki, a glare on her face. “It could be.” Her hands begin to heat up as she prepares herself, a plume of smoke coming out of her nose. 
“YOU WANNA FUCKING GO EXTRA?” Katsuki yells, his hands beginning to spark, preparing to lunge at her.
“BRING IT ON SPARKY!” She yells back, a wide smirk on her face as she lowers herself, getting ready to fight him. 
Aizawa begins to walk towards them to stop them, but Yuka puts up a hand towards him, motioning that she will take care of it. Yuka even getting overwhelmed and annoyed with their bickering, using her quirk to stop them in their tracks as Katuski was tempted to maul her face off from hearing her calling him sparky. Her cold glare holding the three in place, “Do you two know how to not poke each other's buttons!?” 
“No.” Kaida responds, her eyes straining to look at Yuka as she walks towards them. “He just makes it so easy.” The smirk back on her face. 
“Welp then I can't let you go then can I?” her glare getting harsher, “If you both expect to become heroes you need to learn to get along even if it's only a lil bit” 
“She’d be easier to get along with if she knew how to shut the fuck up!” Katsuki growls, glaring at Kaida.
“Oh like you can keep your loud mouth shut!?” Kaida retorts, trying to keep herself from yelling again.
“Can you guys please calm down?” Kirishima groans.
Yuka, getting more frustrated with their incessant barking at each other, walks up to them giving a decent bonk on their heads.. “ENOUGH! UNLESS YOU WOULD RATHER SPEND YOUR TIME ELSEWHERE!” 
Kaida’s eyes quickly shift to look up at Yuka, surprise on her face. She closes her eyes and sighs. “Fine. I’ll leave Kacchan alone.” Kirishima sighs in relief at her statement, looking towards Katsuki for his response, seeing he's still seething in rage. 
Yuka walks up to Katsuki and puts a hand on his head, releasing her quirk “Are you going to be able to calm down?” Katsuki still glaring at Kaida, pushing Yuka’s hand off his head.
“I’ll be fine if she backs the fuck off!” Side eyeing her the whole time.
Kaida rolls her eyes and shrugs as she stands back up and crosses her arms. Kirishima places a hand on her head and gently pets her hair.
“Who's a good girl?” Kirishima chuckles as he teases her.
Kaida gasps, bringing her fists up and shaking them excitedly as her eyes light up. “Is it me?” 
Katsuki and Yuka watch with an awe struck expression, “Is this happening right now?” Yuka unsure of what she is looking at.
“Are you a fucking dog?” Katsuki asks mockingly.
“I would do anything for head pats. And scooby snacks.” She leans into Kirishima’s hand, a smile on her face as she happily gets pet.
“You really are a fucking dog!” Katsuki cackling at her. 
Yuka taking a deep breath, “ok if we are gonna behave now.. I’m guessing you’re picking me to help you guys, is there anything you had in mind you wanted to work on?” 
“OH! I could use some help with my quirk! How do you feel about not being on the ground?” Kaida says excitedly as she looks at Yuka.
“You have me concerned… what do you mean?” Yuka asking on edge, “I don’t necessarily have a lot of experience in the air..”
“Well, I can move people and things but if I use it too much I get a migraine and I want to see how long and how many people I can hold before my migraine gets so bad that I cry.” 
“Please don't cry.” Kirishima tells her, concern lacing his voice. 
“It’s the only way my quirk can get stronger! Is if I keep pushing it!” Kaida nods to herself in reassurance as she speaks. “I promise I won’t like, Shake you about or anything!” 
“You sure that’s how you want to start out? You may wipe yourself out right away?” Asking anxiously.
“No! That's the point of this! Is pushing myself so I can get better! After this we can spar or something! I’ll be ok! If I can't handle a battle past the point of a migraine how am I ever going to be an amazing hero!?”
“If that’s what you want to do then, and it seems I can’t change your mind. So go ahead..” Yuka watching carefully.
Kaida takes in a deep breath and lets it back out as she steps back. Carefully she begins to lift Yuka off the ground, pulling her into the air carefully so as to not startle her. She then lifts Kirishima and soon Katsuki as well, holding them in the air with ease. She smiles as she pulls herself into the air as well, her hair floating around her head as she moves towards them. 
“Everything ok? No one feeling sick?” She asks, looking between the three of them. Kirishima gives her a thumbs up as he spins himself upside down, laughing as he does. 
“I feel fine..” Yuka responds, Katsuki just rolls his eyes with no answer.
Kaida nods her head, looking down at the other teams below them. They are either sparing, training their quirks, or unfortunately goofing off. She sighs and looks up to the sky, decorating it with blue fire as she waves her hand above her head. She looks at Bakugo and smirks. 
“Hey Explosion murder, Blast me!” She puts her hands out in front of her, creating a shield in front of her with the fire.
“I thought you’d never ask.” he says almost excitedly as he aims a hand at her, sending off an explosion in her direction. Kaida braces herself for impact as the explosion heads for her, the shield of fire wraps around her body like a bubble as the explosion hits her. As the smoke dissipates the fire extinguishes and she holds her hand in pain. 
“Well shit.” she grimaces as she looks at her burnt palm. 
Kirishima attempts to swim through the air to reach her, failing miserably and only moving a few inches forward. 
Yuka lets off a small explosion from her palm, helping push her and grabbing Kaida. “Might be best to lower us..” looking at her injury.
Kaida sighs and lowers them down to the ground slowly, each of them landing carefully, her eyes not leaving her hand. “I’m ok.. Nothing I can't handle.” She uses her unburnt hand to roll up her sleeve to reveal the slew of burn scars on her arm. “It happens, just kinda hurts. I got my dad’s fire and my mom’s sensitive skin.” She lets out a small laugh as she tests the pain in her hand but balling up her fist and releasing it again after she winces. 
“I don’t think you can spar if the pain is that bad.. I understand pushing yourself but you could make the injury worse. We can try to rest for a minute and see how you feel in a lil bit” Yuka trying to help where she can.
“I’m ok! Really. I’ll be fine. A little burn has never stopped me.” Kaida smiles at Yuka reassuringly. “Isn’t that right, Ei?” She looks over to Kirishima, her usual sparring partner.
“As much as you try I always stop the matches once you’re burnt, you don't need to hurt yourself any more.” He responds as he approaches them, examining her hand as he sighs. “Especially with you burning your palm you can’t even throw a punch without hurting yourself.”
Kaida rolls her eyes. “It’s just a little burn, I can use my other hand.” She pouts and looks at the ground.
Yuka lightly taps her head, “nothing wrong with taking a small break and see how you feel afterwards.” Sitting on the ground across from Kaida, “We can use this break to talk about anything else to work on or any goals or if any of you have questions for me, that's why I’m here.” 
Kaida sighs and sits herself on the ground as she continues to pout. “I don’t have any questions, I just want to get stronger.”
The boys also sitting down next to them, Kirishima having a question out of curiosity, “Do you have a similar quirk to Bakugo? It looked identical to his explosions..” Katsuki also listening being very curious of the answer.
Yuka thinks of how to best explain it, “Not exactly.. I have two quirks, but the one you're asking about is that I can take in chemicals, whether acidic or nuclear and use them as my own including how the quirk user can manipulate it if I can practice enough with it. I can give an example if you guys want to see.”
Kaida perks up and nods her head. “I wanna see!”
Yuka looks over at Katsuki, “Can I borrow your hand for a second? And I know this will sound gross but if you could lend me a little of your sweat.” 
He watches her perplexed but does it, Yuka taking his hand and absorbing the sweat through her palms. She figured she would start with a small demonstration, holding out her hand in the middle of the group. Yuka slowly warming her hand then let off little fireworks just like Katsuki can. 
Kaida stares in awe at the sparks she produces. “That's so cool. What other chemicals can you use? Is it any?”
Yuka thinks, “It’s almost limitless as long as its acidic or nucular, one of my favs is Napalm and battery acid can be useful and if you really want a bang Hydrogen peroxide is fun but I have to be very careful if I use that because of the damage it can cause. I’m also sure I could even use Mina’s acid as well.”
Kaida nods in understanding as she listens. Kirishima raises his hand as he speaks, “so what's your other quirk?”
Yuka sighs a little, “Ah yes the quirk that def has had me picked on for all these years..” She nervously laughs, “The madder I get the stronger and faster I get, I can move so quickly that it can look like I’m teleporting if I can reach my max limit on how mad I am, also with a menacing or intimidating look when filled with anger I can then paralyze people in their tracks. I haven’t had someone break out of it yet other than if I lost focus or I let them go.”
“I don’t understand why people would pick on you for it. It can be so useful in battle! Kinda like Mr. Aizawa’s quirk, or even Shinsou. They aren't bad quirks, they're really useful and cool. Sometimes I wish I could stop people like that but the most I can do with mine is move them, but they can still manipulate themselves through it like you did.” Kaida sighs and leans against Kirishima. “My fire is cool, but I burn myself with it all the time. And I need my hands available to actually manipulate the fire, yes I can create it the same way I can move things but I need my hands to actually move and use it.” 
“You need to go talk to the support class to find something to help you protect yourself from getting burnt.” Kirishima tells her as he looks down at her slumped form.
“I know I know, I keep putting it off..” She groans. 
“How is your hand feeling now? If it still hurts it may be best to skip the spar or to sit it out for now.” Yuka checking in on Kaida.
Kaida flexes her hand and smiles. “We’re all good!” She quickly hops up from the ground and stands in a fighting stance.
“Are you sure your hand is fine?” Kirishima stands and looks at her, eyeing her face and her hand.
“I’m fine I promise! I’ll put some burn cream on it when we go back to the dorms, but I feel fine!”
Kirishima hardens his arm and holds it up. “Punch me and prove it then.”
Kaida pauses and looks at him, thinking over whether this is a good idea. She pulls back her fist and punches his arm, immediately yelping as her nails dig into the burn on her palm on impact of the punch. 
“That's what I thought. Sit down.” He says sternly as he looks down at her.
“But Ei-” She begins to beg, quickly being cut off by him again.
“I said sit down, We don’t need you to keep hurting yourself. We can spar tomorrow if your hand is better then.” He picks her up and sits her on the ground as her eyes get teary. He crouches down to her as he places a hand on her cheek, making her look up at him. “I don’t like it when you’re hurt. You’re already so strong, you don't need to keep pushing yourself like this.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and looks at her with a small smile. 
Kaida returns the smile and leans into his hand while wiping the tears from her eyes. “Fine, but you better spar with me tomorrow.”
“I will, I promise.”
“You better spar with me too damnit! I can’t miss the opportunity to fight a new opponent!” Kaida yells at Yuka as she smiles at her. 
“I mean I’m not going anywhere, as far as I’m told this is for the whole semester so I’m ready when you're all better.” Giving her a big cheeky grin hoping she won’t be upset anymore or cry.
“HELL YEAH!” She raises her fists in the air excitedly. Kirishima lets out a chuckle and stands again, turning to Yuka and Katsuki with a smile. 
“Well what do you boys want to do.. We can try to do a small match or we can wait till tomorrow?” Yuka turns to them, asking them genuinely. 
Katsuki smirks, “I would never pass on a fight!” Letting off little explosions as he gets fired up.
“If Bakugo is down to fight then so am I!” Kirishima pulls his fists up, ready to fight as he hardens himself. 
Yuka takes a deep breath, her face getting serious, getting into a fighting stance.. “don’t expect me to go easy on you..” Her voice even feeling a little sinister, using her own thoughts to help her own anger build internally.
Katsuki’s grin on his face widening, lunging at her and letting off an explosion in close proximity. With her speed up, she moves over by Kirishima leaning her arm on his shoulder, “You’re gonna have to be faster than that!” 
 Kirishima moves away from her, only to bring his fist to punch her. Yuka drops down quickly causing him to miss, attempts to punch him in the stomach sending a pang through her hand. She jumps back holding her hand not letting her guard down. He laughs and lunges at her, sending a punch at her again, grazing her shoulder as she dodges the punch again.  Katsuki not missing a beat, jumping behind her reaching out trying to let off another explosion. 
Yuka barely jumps out of the way and the explosion as it goes off in Kirishima’s face, actually trying to catch her breath, giving a smirk despite any injuries. “You boys don’t know how to hold back, do you!” chuckling to herself, “Let’s see if you can get out of this!” Her cold glare emanating from her eyes, sending shivers down their spines and locking their bodies in place.
Kirishima struggles to move, trying to pull himself out of the lock. Katsuki begins letting off small explosions in his hands, attempting to propel himself forward towards Yuka, yelling in frustration as he fails. 
“COME ON EI! YOU CAN DO THIS!” Kaida yells from the side lines, trying to cheer him on. “IS THIS REALLY GONNA GET YOU KATSUKI? I THOUGHT YOU WERE SO EXCITED TO FIGHT YOUR GIRLFRIEND!?” She yells out again, hoping to antagonize the blond enough to get him to push through. 
Yuka looks at Kaida in shock at what she just said, her face turning beat red breaking her concentration allowing Kirishima and Katuki to break free and charge at her pinning her to the ground. Despite Yuka being held to the ground by Katsuki and Kirishima her thoughts begin to spin, ‘GIRLFRIEND!? He didn’t give me an answer last night!? IS THERE SOMETHING I DON’T KNOW!?’ The red not leaving her face, Kirishima laying his head on the ground locking eyes with her.
“Is she ok?” Karishima confused with how stunned she is.
“Hell if I know..” Katsuki still holding her arm behind her back and his other hand still holding her head to the ground.
Yuka turns her head, putting her head straight towards the ground trying what she can to hide her face. 
Kaida cheers on from the side lines, fists raised in the air as she bounces herself. “GOOD JOB GUYS!!” 
“Why didn’t you use your other quirk!? You better not have been taking it easy on us!?” Katsuki feeling she wasn’t fighting with her full strength. 
Yuka still hiding her face, “I…I… tch..” her throat choking on her words.
“Hey, I’m sure she tried her best…” Kirishima trying to calm Katsuki down.
Katsuki lets her go and gets off of her with the sour expression still on his face. Yuka gets up slowly, her eyes looking away from them with a distant look in them. “You guys did great..” trying to give them a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as hollow as it feels, “If it’s ok though I’ll be right back, just need some fresh air after that..” Heading outside, hoping no one sensed how much she was upset with herself. It’s a guilt only she must bear.
Kaida quickly stands, running over and wrapping her arms around Kirishima. “You guys did great! I wish I could’ve joined.” Kirishima wraps his arms around her as he laughs.
“OI! DUMBASS! WHY DID YOU OPEN YOUR BIG FAT MOUTH!” Katsuki stomping up to Kaida.
“I WAS TRYING TO HELP!” She pulls away from Kirishima and crosses her arms as she looks up at Katsuki.
“I DON’T NEED YOUR DAMN HELP.” He continues to yell, towering over Kaida as he gets closer to her. 
A smirk grows on Kaida’s lips, “Well it worked didn't it?”
“You brought that up, and I didn’t even give her an answer yet…tch.. Now I have to go and fix it..” Katsuki growls and begins to stomp away, heading towards the exit of the arena. Kaida turns to Kirishima with her smirk, which turns into a wide smile.
Yuka slumps down against the outside wall of the practice building, watching the clouds with a heavy sigh before burying her head into her arms resting on her knees. ‘I wanted to show how strong I was to Katsuki, but I fear I only looked weak and unworthy to be by his side..’ gripping her arms tighter, as her thoughts took control as the darkness felt so consuming, until a familiar voice catches her off guard.
“Oi! Seriously, why didn’t you use your other quirk?” Katsuki asks again, glancing down at her.
Yuka lifts her head to answer him, while unable to make eye contact, “I was worried about not just hurting you guys but the others around us or property damage, most of the chemicals even on me right now on my hero suit are extremely volatile and destructive.. The risk was too high using any of them.. and I guess I could have tried to use your sweat but I’m still so inexperienced with it that you would still wipe the floor with me, and I do need to get my emotional quirk stronger since I can’t always rely on my chemical quirk.” Sighing as she stares back into the dirt. “Sorry if I disappointed you in how weak I am.. I did give it my all as much as I was able..” 
Katsuki crouches down to eye level with her with a raspy growl, “I’m not disappointed in the slightest.. if Kaida didn’t say what she did, I’m not sure if we could have broken free from that… and who is to say how it would go if you could use both quirks freely.. so I’d not call you weak, not even a little bit…”
Yuka fidgeting with her fingers nervously with him this close to her as they talked alone and remembering Kaida screaming that she was his girlfriend, “I know you didn’t give an answer last night to my silly confession to you and didn’t expect one right away… but I’m still worried I’d be unworthy of being around y-“ interrupted by Kastuki’s lips pressing up against hers, her face getting so hot and blushed and it felt like her eyes were spinning. Even though it was only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity till their lips finally parted. “W-W-WHY… UMMM I UUUUUH!!” Her thoughts spinning just as bad, ‘DID THAT JUST FUCKING HAPPEN!?’
Katsuki’s serious expression still locked on her. His cheeks a little blushed and his hand covering his mouth and cheeks, looking away from her feeling slightly embarrassed, hoping the embarrassment doesn’t come through in his voice, “I was hoping you could see that as my response to your “silly” confession dumbass.. I’ll admit I wasn’t sure what to think yet since it was so sudden and not knowing much about you but yet you remembered me and I’m sure you were watching from a distance, scared to approach.. but from that small amount of time we spent together yesterday felt surprisingly comfortable.. and today I was shocked when we started sparing and saw how serious and confident your eyes were.. and how my heart felt different than normal..” Katsuki grabs one of her hands and puts it on his chest, she could feel how his heart was racing. “I’m not used to how this feels, but I’m up to give it a shot.. we will never know unless we try, aaaand the chances I’ll find someone actually willing to be around me is rare! Can’t say no to that!” Katsuki chuckling trying to cheer her up. 
A soft smile appears on her face nodding in agreement, “but please don’t say that about yourself, you’re amazing.. I’m sure lots of people like you, they’re just worried or scared to approach you… you do come off pretty strong.” Yuka laughing, starting to feel like herself again. “I was only worried about being rejected.. but I guess that’s not a worry anymore..” unable to control herself, giving him a hug and burying her face into his neck. Katsuki, surprised at first till he slowly puts his arms around her as they relax in each other's embrace. 
They both finally stand back up, “I guess we better head back inside or they may end up wondering where we went..” reaching out a hand to hers, Yuka could see the small amount of red on his face as this is all so foreign to him. She puts her hand in his, walking back inside and joining back up with the others. 
“I knew it.” Kaida snickers, pointing at Katsuki and Yuka holding hands. 
Yuka getting nervous and embarrassed letting go of his hand, “YOU KNEW WHAT!?” Katsuki already yelling again. 
“You guys are just so cute~” Kaida giggles again, bringing her hands over her heart. “I just knew that you guys had feelings for each other, I could smell it in the air~!” She speaks dramatically and giggles again. 
“HOW!? WE JUST MET!! AND DON’T YOU DARE START PICKING ON US WHEN YOU TWO ARE STILL IN THIS STUPID LIMBO SHIT!! At least I manned up and made a choice~” Katsuki says with a smug grin on his face.
Kaida tenses and looks down at the ground, her hands now balled into fists at her sides. Tears well up in her eyes as she glares at Katsuki. “You have no fucking clue why so shut the fuck up.” She growls before lifting herself off the ground and quickly flying away. Exiting the arena quickly and wiping away the tears with the sleeve of her uniform.
“Dude… I would love to man up and be with her, but I’ve been waiting for her to be ok with it. She was fucked up by some asshole in our second year, she’s scared. Don’t be a dick.” Kirishima explains, walking out of the arena and looking around for the direction Kaida may have flown off to. 
“Tch.. whatever.. Maybe she shouldn’t fucking push my buttons then it wouldn’t have gone that far.” Yuka and Katsuki walking off towards the dorms assuming they can wait for them there.
***
Kaida sits on the roof of dorm 3-B, her knees pulls into her chest as she lays her chin on her arms wrapped around her legs. Tears fall down her cheeks as she looks out to the sky; the sun now low in the sky, turning the sky orange and pink. The door to the roof slams open to reveal a panting Kirishima. Kaida jumps as she looks back at the red head with wide eyes, she sighs and lowers her eyes and turns back to look out at the skyline. 
“Kaida…” Her name falls from his lips as he walks closer to her, sitting himself on the ground next to her. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into his lap causing her to curl up and hide her face in the crook of his neck as she continues to cry. “Hey… It’s ok.” He rubs circles on her back in an attempt to soothe her. 
“Don’t take what he said to heart… You know how he gets when you push his buttons.” “I know I took it too far, I just. He usually doesn't get to me that much, but that hit hard.” Kaida lifts her head and wipes her tears with a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, Ei… I-” “I know, you’re ok to take your time. I’ll gladly wait for you, Kaida.” Kirishima presses a kiss to her forehead. 
“You’re the best Ei.. I don't know what I would do without you.” She smiles up at him as she speaks. He brings a hand to her cheek, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She takes in a deep breath and looks up, connecting their lips in a kiss. Kirishima softly puts his fingers through her hair, passionately kissing her back. When they pull away he lays his forehead against hers with a content sigh. 
“I would do anything for you, little dragon.” He chuckles as he calls her the nickname, tiny plumes of smoke leave her nose as she smiles. 
***
Katsuki and Yuka sit on the steps outside the entrance to their dorms, taking in the night scenery with a deep breath, “She will be ok right?” Yuka’s face mixed with confusion and concern.
“I’m sure she will be fine… she has Kirishima always taking care of her, but she really needs to stop pushing my damn buttons..” Katsuki sighing at the thought of him and Kaida exploding on each other from earlier.
“You both are really good at getting under each other’s skin..” Yuka softly scooching her hand closer to his, close enough their hands were barely touching. 
“Yo! I thought I saw you out here Kacchan!” 
Katsuki turning towards the student walking out of the dorms, “Denki? What do you want!?” 
“It’s dinner time! Do you know where Kirishima is? Trying to round everyone up to get our grub on!” He says enthusiastically.
Katsuki rolls his eyes and grumbling, “I’ll text him but I don’t know if he will answer.. he is with Kaida after all.” 
Katsuki: ‘Oi!? Where you at!? Everyone is starting dinner and wondering if you want to eat?’
Kirishima: ‘We'll be there soon.’
Seeing Kirishima’s response, he puts his phone back into his pocket. “He said he’d be here soon..” answering Denki.
“Sweet! And Oh! who is this you’re hanging out with so closely~ I didn’t realize you hung out with anyone else other than us!” Denki getting cheeky and nosy, he knew what he was about to do was probably risking Katsuki attacking him, but he just couldn’t resist. With a quick motion he grabs Yuka’s wrist and drags her inside. 
“K-Katsuki!?” Yuka being swept into the confusion and feeling overwhelmed pretty quickly as Denki pulls her inside and gets everyone’s attention and some of them even gathering around them. 
“Hey! Deeenkiii!” Katsuki running after them. 
“Guys meet… ummm what’s your name again?” Denki realizing he didn’t think before he jumped again. 
“Ah it’s Yuka right, she is apart of our extra lessons after school? I think I saw you were helping Kacchan’s group right?” Deku jumping into the excitement. Yuka getting lost in the chatter of everyone, nodding yes to his question and standing there nervously. 
“Kacchan and Yuka seemed pretty close outside~” Denki says as he instantly bolts away hearing Katsuki stomping after him.
“YOU’RE ASKING FOR IT DUNCE FACE!! GET BACK HERE!” Yuka definitely getting lost in all the commotion, so much chatter around her that she couldn’t discern what everyone was saying to her or someone else. 
“Everyone, can we give her some space, I’m sure this is overwhelming.” Mina coming to the rescue, and everyone going back to their dinner or just hanging out. “Would you like something to eat? We just made dinner?” 
Yuka can feel herself relaxing with her presence, “Sure… but I feel I can’t move..” pointing down at her leg and there seems to be a purple grape boy stuck to her leg.
Katsuki pauses from chasing Denki, hearing Yuka’s statement and glancing down where she pointed. “AH!?” Mina was about to swat him off but Katsuki moved so quickly he got there first. Mineta feeling the hard impact of his fist hitting him to the floor. “TOUCH HER AGAIN AND I WILL HAVE TO KILL YOU!” 
“Is Mineta being a creep again?” Kaida’s voice asks from the doorway, examining the scene. 
Katsuki still pretty pissed, “WHEN IS HE NOT! But this time he has chosen death!” 
Mineta running to Denki, “Why’d you hit me, you have never cared before with something like this!”
“You both deserve death!” Katsuki now chasing them both, in full rage mode.
Mina running up to Kaida, “welcome back! Have any ideas on how to fix the chaos?” 
“Not a clue.. Ei? Any ideas?” Kaida looks up to Kirishima.
“I mean they did this to themselves, they should know better than to mess with him!” Kirishima chuckles, “but I’m starving though! How bout you Kaida?” 
“I’m pretty hungry, what’s for dinner Mina?” 
“Curry!” Mina giving a bright smile, “it’s super delicious tonight!”
“Sounds great! I can’t wait.” Kaida giggles as the three head towards the kitchen, Kaida grabbing Yuka’s hand to pull her with them. “Let’s grab some food, let them handle this amongst themselves.” She smiles at Yuka, trying to lighten her mood. 
“Okies I am pretty hungry.. I haven’t eaten yet today, which is probably not a good thing.” Yuka’s face looking a little ashamed of herself. 
Katsuki finally cornered Denki and Mineta, “What’s with you man!? We’ve never seen you so defensive over another person before!” Denki’s voice shaking as they cowered.
“You really wanna know!? YOU REALLY WANNA FUCKING KNOW!?” Katsuki screaming at them, they nod their heads quickly, their faces full of fear. “CAUSE SHE IS FUCKING MINE DAMMIT!!”
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vicious-vixxxen · 3 years
Text
Tenya Iida X Male Reader: 7 Minutes in Heaven
Been working on this for a minute, thought it was about time I showed this boy some love! Hope you guys enjoy :3  ((Totally SFW, but things do get a wee bit steamy. Enjoy ;3))
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“Unbelievable! The level of unprofessionalism from class 1A no less! This is a highly inappropriate way to be spending our free time! It should be spent honing our abilities to their greatest potential, and encouraging each other to bl-“  “Iida...Iida please for the love of god /stop/.” Snatching one of the other boys chopping hands by the wrist, your free hand settled on Iida’s chest to pat gently. “For someone who didn’t put up much of a fight getting tossed in here, you sure won’t shut up about it.” You mused, smirk evident in your tone
Despite the closet being too dark to tell; the only light the thin, dim strips around the doorframe- one of which caught the corner of Tenya’s glasses, and reflected back on the boys flushed cheek. Whether they were like that because of the intensity of his ramblings, or the situation at hand, was still yet to be determined.  “I beg your pardon?” Iida nearly gasped, and you snorted despite yourself. Keeping your hold on the larger boys wrist firm, even as he tried to continue his chopping motion out of it. “I assumed my protests would be considered before they’d have a chance to get us in here, and despite our combined abilities to escape, the rules of the game are very clear and seeing as how we’re here now I don’t see the point in not participating. As class 1A’s representative it’s imperative I encourage the other students to socialize and become a more cohesive unit. Even if it means doing ridiculous things like this, DESPITE protest.”
You’d almost, /almost/ landed on Kaminari. Who had you hurt in a past life to deserve this?
“So you’re unwilling to participate because you’re too busy scolding the other participants for wanting to participate. In a game in which you deem inappropriate, but will still abide by it’s rules. While the same time doing anything but. Did I get that right?” You asked, even unsure yourself.
“Well, I-“ “Is it cuz I’m a dude?” You asked suddenly, genuinely curious. Tenya balked. “O-of course not!” No further elaboration. You smiled. Now you were getting somewhere.
“Then I believe we have about five more minutes for you to get with the program Iida.” Finally letting his wrist go, you brought your hand down towards your face. Checking the watch you didn’t have intently, hoping he could see, for effect if anything, before bringing your hand down to rest on Iida’s hip gently. Snickering at how stiff his stance was, as he tensed impossibly tighter. “It’s just kissing,” You reminded him quietly, squinting in the dark to catch the blush high on his cheeks deepen. Iida was significantly taller than you, but he was acutely conscious of the fact. Shifting his knees, and hunching over slightly to bring himself in closer. More on reflex than anything. Until now he hadn’t quite realized he was primed for the taking, so to speak, and attempted to shift back, but finding the wall just as unyielding to his back as it had been when you’d entered together. A sweat broke out across his forehead, and Tenya began to take the most soft, shallow breaths of his entire life. “You have kissed someone before...haven’t you Iida?” You asked, usual playfulness gone, as you slowly started to piece together the sudden intensity behind Tenya’s protests of the game from the very beginning.  “Kissing...not that it is any of your business, I was under the impression was to be saved for someone you cared a great deal about. Someone special. Not a fellow classmate in a musty closet in our dorms!” Iida hissed, but there was no real heat behind it. Mostly..nerves. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” You asked, curious as to the others mind. Iida may not have cracked your top three since arriving at UA, friend wise, but he was a good guy, with a heart of gold, and a powerful personality. If not always the most easily digested. Point is, he was good. And sweet. And handsome. And you, as were your fellow classmates when the idea of drawing names for 7 minutes in heaven arose, were really in the mood to kiss /someone/. And Tenya made a good partner If he’d just be a little quieter. That’s all. “Well yes, but-“  “And you care about me?” You interrupted, smiling at the grunt of frustration the taller boy let out. A puff of hot breath ghosting across your cheeks from above, sending goosebumps down the back of your neck. Minty. And warm. Perfect, actually.  “Of course! But that’s hardly-“ “So what’s the deal? Loosen your tie a bit and just kiss me, jet boy. Plenty of time in the future to give the most special kisses to the most special people. Right now...how about starting with giving me just one?”
Your voice was quiet as you slid your hand up from Iida’s waist to his chest to join your other, a barely whispered ‘please’ in the dark. Iida stared down at you, his own hands twitching, before they came up to meet yours. He’d had every intention of removing them, setting them back at your own sides, but when you’d gripped his shirt, and leaned up on your toes to brush your nose along his jaw, he’d frozen. Gripping your wrists tightly, just hanging on really. “Mm...you smell nice.” Leave it to Tenya to casually wear the most expensive, mouth watering cologne to a dorm sleepover. Who was he, a Giorgio Armani sponsor! Sheesh.  “...thank you,” Tenya gasped finally, as you nipped at his chin- barking out a laugh, so loose and carefree, Tenya couldn’t help the way his shoulders dropped minutely in response. Maybe...maybe.
“Alright then.” Iida agreed. Stealing himself for the inevitable, though he’d be lying if he said the beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead weren’t because of how soft the plushness of your lips felt trailing up towards his own bitten ones. He’d never quite considered something like this happening to him, at school of all places. Tenya had a firm idea of what he’d come to UA to do, how he’d accomplish it, and how he’d feel after achieving all his goals. Going pro. There really was no time for any straying from that.  Bakugou, for instance, for all the glaring faults Tenya found in his personality, was admirable in that at least he had a similar mindset, albeit a more extremist one...goal oriented to the max. And Tenya did admire it, strived for something similar. He’d never quite struck gold when it came to friends before UA, maybe because they’d never quite understood why he worked so hard to get to the next step, and the next step. But here, his classmates understood the importance of their classes. Their position. ...well, most of them did. And yet here he was now, backed into a literal corner, clammy hands holding tight to y/n’s wrists as the smaller boy continued to whisper random nonsense against Tenya’s chin- his cheek. All because he wanted to appeal more to his peers. Figures. Not that he was complaining. Not anymore, at least. “Ready?” You asked, nerves nearly getting the best of you now too as you focused in on the glint of light in Iida’s glasses again- frowning briefly, and nudging the boys chin with yours to get him to move just enough for the light to reflect in the deep pool of blue that was his eye. Sparkling, and searching. You’d expect nothing less from the class rep. God, he was handsome.. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Tenya whispered, meaning for it to come out more sure, and failing miserably. You were already keyed up enough to be crowned the king of sexual frustration, so you wasted no time in letting out a soft ‘hm’ of confirmation, before leaning in and sealing your lips fully over Iida’s. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined just how plush his lips would actually feel. Sure it was something you’d fantasized about with /most/ of the guys in class, but Iida especially. He had great lips. And fuck, they felt nice against yours. Not too soft, not too rough. Plush, like a pillow. Fuck, you wanted to bite them. To tug on his lower lip till he mewled into your mouth. Shit.
Moving your hands tentatively at first, as they were still being held firm by Iida. you slid them up and over his shoulders, hesitating briefly before allowing them to slide further up to cup the boy on either side of his neck. Squeezing there briefly as you pulled away.  “This okay?” You asked, thumbs brushing over Iida’s jaw, words whispered against his lips, you were still they close. “...y-yes, yes that’s alright.” He was too quiet to be sure, but something told you Iida was coming undone at a rapid pace.  “Would another be alright then? We don’t have to, I don’t want you to-mph!-“ and Iida’s lips were back on yours. More insistent, more sure. Firm and soft and you moaned, quietly, still conscious of your classmates on the other side of the door, but just barely.  “Sorry...sorry, I...I’m so sorry, y/n,” Iida huffed, grip just as tight on your wrists as before as he broke away suddenly, guilt wracking his system immediately as he intended to pull away, because what the hell was that?! He’d just-
“No, Iida, please...come on, don’t do me like that, I want it. More...come on,” you pleaded, breathless and giddy at how he’d taken control. On the one hand, of course he would. But on the other, this was /kissing/, and it was /Iida/. What even? Iida’s lips parted in a soft ‘o’, body flushing with heat at how your pleas seemed to effect him. “Okay.” Clearing his throat, his words coming out too husky for his own liking, Iida finally, FINALLY, moved his own hands. Thinking suddenly of movies, and how people kissed there. He could do that. Iida’s hands were on your hips then, gentle, yet sure. Cupping there, finding his footing. Iida finally seemed comfortable leaving one against your hip, the other flat against the small of your back to bring you in close. Whoa. Hadhis hands always felt so big?
Shit.
“Move your lips how I move mine,” you instructed, breath ghosting the shell of Iida’s ear, and you bit your lip gently when Iida nodded. Eager. Fuck.  And you were kissing again. More urgent this time, a few presses of lips, before you began to move. The quiet of the closet being broken by the rustling of your clothes, the slick sound of your lips, and both of your needy breaths. Iida was a skilled learner, and it was almost scary how that transferred over to kissing. Pausing when you move your lips against his in a certain way. Savoring it, before applying it back to you. “It’s concerning how good you are at this,” you laughed softly against his lips, Iida rewarding you with a little breath of a huff in return as his grip on your hip tightened, and he sealed your lips once again. Urgent. Needy.
You could relate. Soon enough you found one arm curled around Iida’s neck, your other hand holding firm to the crop of hair on his head as he kissed you. A shift in stance caused his hand to drop to the outside of your thigh, and on instinct, you’d lifted your leg to Iida’s hip,
Iida hadn’t even hesitated to grip your thigh and hike your leg up higher, bringing your middles closer together, and what? What the fuck? Since when did he know how to do that?! “Shit,” you hissed, overwhelmed by how turned on you were. It was embarrassing, but so good.
“Language,” Iida whispered, not missing a beat, pushing his head up into your hand briefly, encouraging, before kissing you /again/.
Jesus, he was good. It was kind of ridiculous how so. “Ah,” you cried before you could stop yourself, when Iida’s grip on your thigh shifted and tightened, palm held firm over the sensitive underside, and you had to stop. Lips sliding from Iida’s, along his cheek, and down into the crook is his neck. “Are...are you alright?” Iida panted, trying to pull back to look at you- as best he could in the dark- but you held tight to his hair, keeping him in place, as you caught your breath. ‘Look at me’ you thought, nodding your head against Iida’s shoulder, ‘coming apart like a fucking virgin!’ Which, you were...kind of, the specifics of previous encounters were still vaguely juvenile enough for you not to count them
“Just...,” pausing, you took a breath. Blowing it out through your nose, and closing your eyes as you began to litter Iida’s neck with kisses. “-sensitive, down there, is all. But it’s good. Very good.”
Iida was too quiet, tense all of the sudden for an entirely different reason, and you were all too aware of where his brain was probably going. “My /thigh/, Iida, your holding my thigh like you’re about to pitch a softball, and it feels really nice- just caught me off guard, is all.”
Patting him on the head, you evened out your breathing finally, just being for a few long moments, as Iida stood still. “...this is much more-ah...much more than I’d imagine it being.” Iida spoke softly, fingers playing nervously against the back of your thigh. “How incredibly vague,” you teased, giggling quietly, before the both of you were a fit of laughter. Iida’s deep, boisterous sound like music to your ears. Had he ever laughed like that in front of you before?
You vowed to make it happen more often, in any case. “You know what I mean,” he added finally, allowing your leg to slip from his grasp, bringing both hands back to your hips to squeeze gently. Tentatively. Your breath faltered briefly, imagining suddenly getting to feel this again. Whenever you wanted. What an idea. Your face was too hot then, even more so than before, and you hoped Iida couldn’t sense it as you pressed even deeper into his neck. Scratching idly through his hair, fingers skirting across the seam of his undercut.  “If you applied this kind of enthusiasm into your studies, you wouldn’t be scrambling to study with Kaminari last minute, you know.” Iida added simply.  “Excuse you?!” You shouted, no heat behind it as you reeled back, staring at the general area of Iida’s head in faux shock.
“If Midoriya and Uraraka didn’t steal you away all the time, /maybe/ I’d have asked you to study with me at some point. Once you and Yaomomo are busy the pickings are slim, you know. Kiri asked me to join he and Bakugou once...but hard pass, as I don’t particularly like being slammed over the head by our textbooks.” Iida stilled briefly, before sighing and nodding his head dejectedly.  “His methods are almost cruel, yet his results are unquestionable. Kirishima has been doing much better lately. At the cost of his physical and mental health though, which in the long run could have some serious long lasting effects.”
“Oh my mental health is constantly on the verge anyways, so that would be fine.” You joked, snickering as you were pulled back rather harshly, for Iida to get a good look at you no doubt.
Good luck with that in the dark, pal, you thought.  “Kidding, kidding. Kind of. Anyways, point is, if you’d make yourself more available to other students, maybe I’d pick your brain about the homework sometime.”
“I...suppose I have grown comfortable with my own study group- and as class rep it’s imperative I take initiative to make sure each one of us is reaching their full potential, whether it be studying, or during combat.” Iida mumbled. If his hands hadn’t been firm on your hips, you swore they’d be chopping the air around your head. “I don’t need as much oversee as Kaminari. I apply myself when it counts, so if you could spare even an hour or two on the weekend to answer some of my more pressing questions it would be a big help,” you explained, awkwardly untangling yourself from Iida as you cleared your throat. The mood not entirely broken, but you couldn’t very well sit in here and make out with Iida all night.
 Unfortunately. “Of course! Your room is right down the hall from mine after all, it’ll be easy to navigate and configure the perfect time to study. We-“ he paused, hands up in the air somewhere, you could hear the whooshing. “I don’t care much for movies, and the others will be thoroughly entertained enough with this game after us anyhow, if you’d like to go back to my room and set up a study plan?” He offered, and you couldn’t help the way your heart thumped madly once more at the offer. They’d decided on one of your favorite movies tonight, and you’d promised Kami a running commentary.
Oh well, “Let me fix your hair, and you’ve got a deal. Last thing you need is everyone thinking I defiled you in here.”
Pulling your phone from your pocket, and face the screen straight up, you unlocked it- the bright light from the screen illuminating the closet just enough to see. Snorting, you took in Iida’s fluffed up hair, sticking up at odd angles, vaguely reminiscent of Midoriya’s.
“A willing defilement , I suppose, but a defilement nonetheless if we’re being technical,” Iida supplied quietly, as you fussed over his hair. “Willing indeed, you lug. Who would have guessed the class rep would get so /handsy/.” You teased, smiling brightly at the wide eyed expression Iida supplied in return. “And don’t apologize, I...I haven’t kissed many people, but that was definitely the best kiss of my entire life. Something to be proud of. I guess..” You tried to sound nonplussed, but given the new light, it wasn’t hard for Iida to see your blush. “I’ve never kissed anyone, but I can’t imagine it gets better than that,” Iida offered quietly, blush high on his cheeks to match yours.
You both paused, Iida staring down at you, you up at him. Your hands back on either side of his neck, hair as good as it was going to get. ‘Maybe we could do it again sometime’ the little voice in your mind screamed, but the last thing you wanted to do was push Iida. This was just a one time thing. But hey, maybe it meant being closer friends...which was even better, if you were honest with yourself. “We should uh...get going. Out there. The sooner we retreat back to your room, the better. They’ll be hounding as soon as he step out.” Sliding your hands down Iida’s broad chest, you patted twice there just for effect, before snatching up your phone. Steeling yourself for the hoots and hollers, and nagging questions everyone before you had endured. An eye roll all prepped as you stepped out of the closet, missing the way Iida stared after you, if only briefly. Brushing off the wish of you, with your loud personality, and lack of filter, to offer up more of something he couldn’t bring himself to ask for. He couldn’t find the words. He’d hoped you could. Or would. But that was alright. Late at night, after everyone had gone to bed, and the lingering scent of your own cologne faded from Iida’s room, he’d still have the memory of your lips on his. Your voice, soft and needy in his ear. Your thigh heavy, and hot in his palm.  Yeah...that would do. For now, at least.
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siswritesyanderes · 3 years
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Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme
(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)
You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.
There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.
Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”
He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.
“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”
He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”
You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.
When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…
But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…
Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.
He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.
Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.
He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)
Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?
He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”
Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.
That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.
Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.
Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.
When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.
“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”
“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”
You did.
“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”
“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.
Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.
“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.
He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”
You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.
Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.
Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.
Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.
“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”
“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.
You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.
A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.
Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.
The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.
The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.
“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.
“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.
“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”
The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.
You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.
“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”
“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.
“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”
“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”
“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”
“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.
There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.
“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”
You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?
You fell asleep before you could figure it out.
You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.
You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.
Where am I?
You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.
“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”
“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”
“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”
There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.
“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”
“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”
“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”
Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.
“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”
You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.
“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.
“I want to go home,” you said.
Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.
It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”
Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”
Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”
You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.
“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”
The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”
“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”
He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.
“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.
“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.
“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”
“Yes.”
“You knew that we would do this.”
“I…suspected.”
“You meant for us to do this.”
“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”
Silence fell.
You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.
“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.
“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.
“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”
“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”
“I know.”
You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.
The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.
“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”
“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”
You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.
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padawanlost · 3 years
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So I was on Quora the other day, and someone speculated that insecurity was at the root of Anakin's arrogance and apparent cockiness. I thought this through and it makes so much sense. He felt insecure in his place as a Jedi and had this constant need to prove himself. What's your take?
Personally, I’ve never seen Anakin as arrogant. I think he was *perceived* as arrogant by the people around him but, internally, Anakin was also driven by insecurity (not egotism).
Because he was so insecure in a place where he knew he wasn’t accepted as he was, he overcompensated. It’s a very common behavior: I’ll try harder to prove myself. And because he was so powerful, his attempt to prove himself worthy was viewed as an attempt to show off.
The Jedi Council didn’t want me, either. Being the Chosen One didn’t count for anything. Master Yoda wouldn’t train me, or Windu. Every member of the Jedi Council had had something more pressing to do than help him work out what this terrible, galaxy-changing power of his meant, and how he should live in its shadow. He still wasn’t sure. Anakin recalled standing there in that grand, polished Jedi Council Chamber, surrounded by what felt like fear, and disdain, and bewilderment—who were those Masters to feel bewildered, that the only person there who cared if he lived or died was Master Qui-Gon Jinn. And they stopped him training the Chosen One. Qui-Gon hadn’t cared what the Jedi Council said. He’d trained him anyway, a Padawan in all but name. Why am I thinking of all this now? Haven’t I put it behind me? Haven’t I had enough bad memories since then to take their place? Haven’t I vindicated Master Qui-Gon? [Karen Traviss. The Clone Wars]
Anakin enjoyed praise from Obi-Wan, but often became sullen when he was reprimanded. Obi-Wan assured him that he himself had been frequently reminded by Qui-Gon to be more mindful of the Force, but somehow even the slightest criticism managed to leave Anakin feeling stung. First they tell me to do my best, then they tell me I’ve gone too far! ANAKIN SKYWALKER IN THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM
Because Anakin had not been trained since infancy at the Temple like nearly all other Padawans, various Jedi Masters accepted the fact that he lacked the discipline of his fellow students. They were less accepting, however, of his arrogant behavior when he demonstrated his abilities. I’m more powerful with the Force than some of my instructors, Anakin thought, and they know it! ANAKIN SKYWALKER IN THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM
Despite Anakin’s desire to distance himself from the slave he had once been, he was unable, or unwilling, to shed the other aspects that had defined him on Tatooine. He still dreamed of glory, still craved adventure, and never lost his appetite for high-speed thrills and the desire to prove himself in competition. THE RISE AND FALL OF DARTH VADER BY RYDER WINDHAM
What evidence to we truly have that Anakin was arrogance beyond people calling him that? And considering most of his peers and superiors didn’t take much time to get to truly know him, I’d say their option can be considered biased:
Anakin was liked by the other students, but he had no close friends. He was not loved. Obi-Wan told himself that Anakin’s gifts naturally set him apart. But in his heart, he grieved for Anakin’s loneliness. JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE WAY OF THE APPRENTICE]
Just when Anakin thought he’d passed that elusive finishing line that said adult, experienced, seen it all, he realized he was still twenty, Jedi or not, and the wounded boy in him still rose to the surface—provoked into angry violence, scared of abandonment, and still in need of approval. KAREN TRAVISS [STAR WARS: THE CLONE WARS NOVELIZATION]
[Obi-Wan] knew, glancing at his Padawan’s eager face, that Anakin meant well from the bottom of his heart. If Obi-Wan saw a shadow on that heart, he knew it would pain his Padawan to know it. In many ways, Anakin was still a boy. A wounded, loving, anxious boy with great gifts he did not fully understand. Yet he was also a young man, close to maturity, who could do great harm. To others, yes. To himself, most of all JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE SCHOOL OF FEAR]
“I just…” Anakin stopped. He took a ragged breath. “I thought you would be proud of me.” I am proud of you. Obi-Wan wanted to say the words. They were true. He was proud of so much in Anakin. But now was not the time to tell him that. Or was it? JUDE WATSON [JEDI QUEST: THE SCHOOL OF FEAR]
Fixing broken machines was like a meditation. Fixing broken machines was an antidote to every pain, every loss, every fear, every defeat. Fixing broken machines kept him from going mad. CLONE WARS GAMBIT: STEALTH
This doesn’t sound like some who thinks that highly of himself.
 “Master…,” he said hesitantly, “I know I’ve… disappointed you in these past few days. I have been arrogant. I have… not been very appreciative of your training, and what’s worse, of your friendship. I offer no excuse, Master. My frustration with the Council… I know that none of it is your fault, and I apologize. For all of it. Your friendship means everything to me.”
Interestingly enough, Obi-wan says it best:
You are very observant, Ferus, but you must accept that I know him better than you,” Obi-Wan said carefully. “Anakin can be arrogant. I know that. But he is also learning and growing. He is respectful of his great power. He does not abuse it. He is younger than you, but he has seen much injustice, many terrible things. I do not think it so wrong that he wants to change things. You must understand that it isn’t ambition that drives him. It is compassion. OBI-WAN KENOBI IN STAR WARS – JEDI QUEST: THE CHANGING OF THE GUARD BY JUDE WATSON
Yes. Anakin can act arrogantly. We all can. It’s part of being human and flawed. but that doesn’t mean that was ALL Anakin was. More often than not, Anakin was motivated by fear, love, kindess and, yes, even hate.
Taking them, she looked up at him and shook her head, even though it still ached. “It’s odd. You’re nothing like I expected.” “Why?” he said, perching on the edge of the nearby chair. “What did you expect?” “I don’t know,” she said, floundering. “I can’t say I’ve ever given the Jedi much thought. I mean, not as individuals. I never expected to meet one—let alone two. I don’t tend to go places where your skills are needed. But—well—you’re gentle.” That made him smile. “As opposed to what?” She swallowed the pain-tabs, washing them down with a mouthful of water. “Oh. You know. The HoloNet news—it portrays as you as this—this—heroic warrior. Larger than life. Charging into battle, lightsaber flashing. Scourge of the Separatists. That kind of thing.” She shrugged. [Karen Miller. Star Wars: Clone Wars Gambit: Stealth]
Because of Hayden’s Anakin being do disliked and, of course, because of the TCW wonky characterization everyday we are seeing more and more people embracing the idea of arrogant idiot Anakin. even if such characterization is not supported by the movies, the lore and basic common sense.
People use Obi-wan’s words in AOTC against Anakin but the truth is, as shown above, Obi-wan himself later recognizes that Anakin is not arrogant (even if he sometimes act that away). Besides, using AOTC to show Anakin’s arrogance doesn’t make much sense because of Hayden’s acting. Anakin doesn’t act like some arrogant prick for most of the movie. if anything, AOTC is a great of example of Anakin’s submissive and insecure behavior.
At last, let’s not forget that the same people calling Anakin arrogant were also facing the same criticism:
“But he still has much to learn, Master,” Obi-Wan explained. “His skills have made him … well, arrogant.” “Yes, yes,” Yoda agreed. “It’s a flaw more and more common among Jedi. Too sure of themselves, they are. Even the older, more experienced Jedi.” [R.A. Salvatore. Attack of the Clones]
People seem to forget that Anakin was in his early 20s when he ‘died’. Show me a teenager or a young adult who’ve never acted arrogantly and i’ll show you a liar. So why is Anakin the only one getting shit for that?
So, yeah, i agree. Anakin wasn’t motivated by arrogance. He was motivated by fear and insecurity, byproducts of his childhood trauma and years of grooming and emotional neglect.
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lo-frequency · 3 years
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Shinsou x Chubby Latina!Reader: Un Pequeño Malentendido
Or, "A Little Misunderstanding" in English. Anyway, I'm learning Spanish in college so I was rlly happy to get a request for a Latina reader from @blossominglark. In other words, I got carried away lol.
Shinsou had heard about the new American student that transferred into Class A. He’d heard about your impressive academic ability and formidable quirk, and that you were multilingual, proficient in Spanish, English, and Japanese. Well, decent enough at Japanese. Impressive for sure, but Shinsou had yet to actually see you and place a face to your already admirable name.
He’d get to know you soon enough, however.
“Out of the way, mind-control freak,” one of Shinsou’s fellow classmates said as he brushed past him in the hall. Shinsou rolled his eyes, and was about to reply with an equally biting comeback when another voice beat him to it.
“Oye, watch your mouth, jerk!” you said, coming up behind Shinsou in the hallway. The classmate looked back with a scowl, but decided he didn’t want any smoke when he saw you, instead choosing to walk away while muttering under his breath.
You walked up to Hitoshi, shaking your head in contempt as he walked away. “Cabrón,” you scoff, muttering something about hating bullies. Shinsou looked at you with slightly raised eyebrows, wondering what possessed you to speak up for him like that. He doesn’t even know you, nor has he seen you at school before. You meet his bewildered stare with a kind smile.
“Hi, my name is Y/N L/N, I’m in Class A! We haven’t met before, but I heard about you from my classmates. You’re Hitoshi Shinsou, right?” you asked, probably noticing the questioning look in his eyes.
Y/N L/N? No wonder he hadn’t seen you before, you’re the transfer student. Shinsou was surprised to hear that you recognized him...he knew he had a reputation, but sheesh. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s me...” there was an awkward pause as you two stared at each other, “Well, I appreciate the help, you didn’t have to do that,” he finally said. While Hitoshi was definitely grateful, it was just a little embarrassing that you felt the need to intervene as if he couldn’t defend himself. He didn’t know what your classmates had told you, but he hoped you didn’t view him as just some poor victim with an unfortunate quirk.
Your smile widened. “It’s no problem. I know what it’s like to be picked on for being different, so…” you trail off with a sheepish smile and a shrug. The silence falls between you again, and you decide that you should probably head back to class. “Bueno...it was nice meeting you, Hitoshi. I guess I’ll see you around?” you say with a short wave, turning to head down the hallway after Shinsou bobbed his head in acknowledgement.
He guessed you only came down this hall when you heard him getting harassed. His gaze lingered on the sway of your full hips as you walked away, before also turning to leave. “Then I’ll see you around, Y/n...” he said to himself, thoughts lingering on your charming accent and even more delightful appearance. No wonder there was so much buzz about you.
Hitoshi did see you around after that. A lot, in fact, and it wasn’t long before you two became unlikely friends. Unlikely friends eventually blossomed into a beautiful relationship, and you two could often be seen making eyes at each other between classes, or meeting up during breaks. Since Hitoshi often had to work with Class B for Hero Course training, you two were like Romeo and Juliet, a forbidden love between students of rival classes. Some (Neito Monoma) were more vocal about your ‘controversial’ relationship than others.
Speaking of the blond, ever since it got out that Shinsou was dating you, Monoma had gained an odd fascination with you. He always asked Hitoshi questions about you, or even talked to you (if you could call his odd tangents a conversation) whenever he got the chance. Hitoshi didn’t really like him talking to you (or any other dudes, really), but it’s not like he could stop you.
Nonetheless, Hitoshi had never been happier in his short life. He wasn’t much of a romantic before, but couldn’t believe how much his world had changed since meeting you. Not to get too sappy, but everyday seemed brighter with you- until it wasn’t.
One day, you suddenly stopped talking to him. You didn’t even greet him in the morning like you usually did, and when he came to collect you for lunch, you stiffly told him you’d rather eat with your other friends that day. This went on for a few days, and the normally stoic face Hitoshi wore was starting to crack at the seams.
He missed hearing your little voice say “Qué padre” whenever you found something interesting, the sound of your footsteps as you followed close behind him in the hall, and the warmth of your plush body against his when he hugged you. It was like he was going through withdrawals, and he’d only been without you for three days. What did he do wrong, and why wouldn’t you talk to him about it?
Little did Hitoshi know that the two of you had been caught in the web of a certain scheming blond from Class B.
****
Hitoshi sighed as he watched you approach him for the mixed training activity the Hero Course was having that day. Class A and B were working together against the teachers, and he’d been paired with you….bc of course 🙄. These days, it hurt him more to be around you than not, when all you ever did was look at him with contempt.
Whatever. He’ll do whatever it takes to pass the training session, with or without you.
The training exercise begins, and while you two managed to make a plan, your standoffish behavior wasn’t making it any easier for Hitoshi, despite trying his best. He eventually sighed in frustration and pulled the two of you aside to address your attitude once and for all. “What is wrong with you, Y/n?” he asked you in an urgent whisper, hoping none of the other students would find you two.
You crossed your arms, scowling at him. “Oh, now you care about me? Or is this just another act?” you asked him, an accusatory undertone to your question.
Shinsou furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
You let out a humorless chuckle. “I heard it from Monoma. He said you never liked me in the first place, and only pretended so you could get intel on my weaknesses and help Class B win, ” you said bitterly.
That’s all Hitoshi needed to hear. “And you actually believed him? You shouldn’t listen to a word Monoma says, the guy is unhinged,” he said, glancing behind him to make sure you were still safe. “If anything, it was probably a sabotage tactic,” Hitoshi mumbled as he surveyed the area around him.
You slowly unfolded your arms. “En serio? So you don’t hate me?”
Hitoshi glances back at you as if the answer was obvious. “ ‘Course not, kitten. I could never,” he says quietly. You can’t help the bashful smile that rises on your lips, but before you could apologize and give Hitoshi a hug, he suddenly turns and starts pushing you in the other direction. “Now that we cleared that up, we need to get out of here before we get caught.” As soon as he finished his sentence, you hear another person’s voice shout that they’d found you two.
Yet, all you could think about was the weight of Hitoshi’s hand on your lower back, and how much you’d missed it.
I know it wasn't much but I just wanted to flex what I learned in Spanish class a lil bit. I hope it y'all enjoyed it anyway, thanks for tuning in!
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Please Fix the Story pt 23 - Sci Fi
Here is the next part! There is at least one more part in this world. Getting really close to the end!
Masterpost Linked Here
Enjoy!
_______________________
Life moved on, and despite the growing anxiety I had after my encounter with Chris, things moved smoothly. Chris had disappeared after that night, leaving his resignation from the academy laying on his desk. Liam was busy with wedding plans, occasionally checking in to make sure I was happy with his choices.
He was honestly much more thoughtful about it than I would have been, and I was happy to have his help. My father arranged his leave and was on his way. We also heard from Liam’s parents that they were going to arrive soon as well.
When Liam received the news, he became perfectly still for a few moments. I watched him, concerned at the obvious change.
“Liam, are you okay?”
“I – I don’t know.” His eyes were unfocused, as if staring off into space. “Why… are they coming?”
“Because they’re your parents? I doubt they would miss the wedding of a royal family member, no matter how bad your relationship is.”
“Parents… it’s… all wrong.” Liam seemed to be struggling against some invisible bind. His dark blue eyes flickered, and seemed to almost glow in the shadow of the resting area we sat it.
WARNING. World destabilization detected. Attempting forced conformity… Failure… host and partner soul strength too high.
Unable to see the bright blue words hanging in the air, Liam continued speaking.
“This… isn’t right. I don’t have family." His face was becoming more certain. “It’s not my fate. All I have is…” He glanced at me, his eyes filled with pain. “Bel..?”
WARNING! Stabilize world story immediately or face destruction and mission failure.
I reached out quickly, holding Liam’s hands in my own. “Liam, take a deep breath. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” He answered without hesitation.
“I know it seems wrong, but for now I need you to go with the idea of having parents and family.”
“But…?”
“Trust me. “
“Okay.” He leaned back, sighing. The glowing dark blue of his eyes faded, and he closed them for a brief moment, before seemingly returning back to normal. “I trust you.”
We don’t belong here.
The uncertainty in this world grew each day. Liam, whoever Chris had become… me… we weren’t from this world. But if we deviated to much, the world could destabilize, and I could fail the mission.
I just needed to keep my head down, blend in and complete the mission.
Try not to rebel too much against the role I’d been given in this world, except the ending.
Simple, right?
_______________________
“We’ve talked the last few hours about our lists, now it’s your turn! What do you miss most about Chris, Alaira?”
Maybe world destabilization, mission failure and soul destruction aren’t that bad after all.
I stared at the group of young women in front me, wondering for the hundredth time in the past hour how I had been roped into this... harem support group?
Allie, Ilene and Wen stared back at me, waiting for me to answer.
“I… miss kicking his butt in mock Mech battles?” I winced as I spoke, realizing they would probably take offense at that, but to my surprise they all smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, you were a very important rival to Chris.” Ilene patted me on the back.
Allie spoke up, “He was always talking about how he wanted to beat you and have you accept him as a fellow Guardian. “
“Yeah… he… I…” Wen started to chime in, but then her face crumpled as she sobbed into her hands. “What are we supposed to do now that he’s gone?! What am I supposed to do without him?! What if he never comes back?!”
“I miss him!”
“Me too!”
Soon all three girls were crying, leaving me in uncomfortable silence in the corner.
Blend in, don’t make waves, don’t try to change things….
“I can’t live without him!” Ilene’s dramatic cry broke something within me.
SCREW THIS!
“OKAY GUYS, SHUT UP!” I stood up, placing my hands on my hips as I stared at them. “You are a group of highly intelligent, talented women in the most competitive military academy in the known universe! And you’re nothing without some guy?”
“He’s not just some….” Wen started to interrupt, but was shushed by me.
“No. No matter how much you care for him. He is a guy, and you are all your own person. You have talents, dreams and stories beyond his existence.” I turned to petite girl beside me first. “You! Wen, you’re one of the top engineering students in the program! With your skills, it would be a cinch to improve upon the current Mech design!” After all, she had ramped up Chris’s Mech in the story, surely she could do the same without him!
“And you!” I pointed at Allie. “You’re a Guardian! You're a level B one at that! That's an even higher level than Chris!”
“But I don’t have his drive…”
“You can have his drive! You can have more than his drive! He spent half his time complaining about how people didn’t take him seriously or how people were trying to force him to be a Connector. You can be TEN TIMES the Guardian Chris was!”
I ignored her startled sputterings and turned towards the dark haired girl on the other side. “And you… Ilene.”
She stared at me warily. “What about me?”
“You’re a freaking Princess! And a super talented Connector! How can that become nothing if Chris isn’t around?”
“…I thought you didn’t like me?”
“I don’t.” I answered bluntly. “You treat your brother like trash, and that’s enough for me to want to kick your teeth in.” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “That being said, just because I hate you doesn’t mean I don’t respect you as a talented Connector. You just have a crappy personality.”
“Um… Thanks?”
“Don’t mention it.” I opened my arms. “You three have top-notch talent all gathered here in one room. What do you need Chris for?! You could be a force to be reckoned with!”
Wen jumped to her feet. “You’re right! I should design a Mech, one stronger than anyone’s ever seen.!”
“Yes!” I pumped a hand in the air.
“And I’ll fly it! I’ll terrorize the Hive until they go running back to their home planet!” Allie stood up as well.
“You’ve got it!”
Ilene joined in. “If I remember, Allie, you and I have a decent resonance match. How about we partner up?”
“Let’s do it!”
The girls high-fived each other while I watched approvingly.
“Let’s destroy the hIve!
“We’ll save humanity!”
‘...And then we’ll find Chris!”
I groaned.
They were so close… but I guess this is better than nothing.
The girls plotted the formation of a new team, surprisingly accepting the team name “Harem” (my suggestion). As they filed out, chattering excitedly, I prepared to escape this mentally exhausting group.
“Alaira, wait.” Princess Ilene stopped me before I could walk out the door.
“What is it?” I kept a neutral expression. I hadn’t been joking when I said I didn’t like her.
She hesitated. “Are you really marrying my brother?”
“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
“…No… it’s just…” She rubbed her face. “He’s… different. And I feel like you should know. “
Sitting back down, I crossed my legs and prepared to listen.
“Since he met you… William is a different person. He’s kinder… gentler… even goes by a different name. He’s never gone by Liam.”
That caught my attention “What was he like before?”
“Angry. Vicious. Hurt people just to watch them suffer.” Her face was blank, as if remembering things she didn’t want to. “He was so mad at the world for not allowing him to match, he spent all his time plotting to take down talented people who could.”
A villain. Was that who he was before Liam stepped in? Like how Alaira was before I took over? Or Chris before… whoever it was… took his body?
“I’m not pretending that I’m perfect, either. You’re right, I treated my brother like garbage, instead of trying to help him. I thought he was a monster. Honestly, I thought his hanging around you was some new scheme…. I was kind of hoping he would take you out so your couldn’t bother Chris…”
“So nice of you.” My tone was sarcastic
“At least I’m honest. Anyways, this doesn’t appear to be some trick… I think he’s changed… he actually seems to care about you. But I thought you should know who he was before he met you.”
“Thanks.” My tone was slightly better than before. “Don’t worry, I know exactly who I’m marrying.”
Liam. Not your villain brother.
“Good Luck.” Ilene seemed relieved, as if a burden was off of her shoulders with the confession, and hurried out.
I stood in the room alone silently for a few moments, processing.
There’s too many questions, and no answers in sight.
I left to find Liam. I missed him.
_______________________
I arrived just in time to see Liam and Alaira’s father facing off.
“She is my precious daughter.” The tall middle aged man with close cropped hair and a scowl made scarier by the scar running from his left eye to the corner of his mouth, towered over Liam. His disapproving air was evident.
“Yes.” Liam smiled and nodded, seemingly fearless.
“No man deserves to marry her.”
“Agreed.”
“So who do you think you are?” General Gladus poked Liam’s chest with a finger.
“The luckiest man alive to be able to stand in the same room as Alaira, much less stay by her side all my life.” He held out a plate in front of the angry man. “Cookies?”
“Well, you should know I don’t approve of this fast courtship…” He picked up one of the cookies and bit into it angrily. “You both are so young…” He took another bite. “And I don’t want you to hold her back…”
“I completely agree. I will do my best to support all her goals in life.” Liam handed the general another cookie as he finished the first.
“Good…” He chewed slower. “Is this chocolate? How did you get it so soft but chewy at the same time?”
“I developed the recipe. Would you like more?”
He picked up another one. “Just know this doesn’t mean I fully approve of you.”
“Of course not… Would you like some cake…”
“….”
“I also have homemade hot chocolate.”
“… As long as she likes you, I guess.” He finally muttered, his hands full of baked treats and dessert drinks.
Liam overwhelmed him with support spouse abilities. I laughed in the doorway, attracting the attention of both men.
“Anything for me?”
Liam nodded with a bright smile. “I saved you a plate.”
General Gladus cleared his throat as he saw the large platter filled with cookies.
“Don’t worry, Sir, I saved an extra plate for you.”
“… Don’t think you can bribe me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So I can have your plate, then?”
“The hardened general clutched the plate of cookies to his chest. “Don’t you dare! The boy made them for me out of respect for his future father-in-law!”
“…” Liam and I smiled at each other.
“How is the front line… Dad?” The title felt a little rough as I spoke it. I was still acutely aware that he was Alaira’s father, not mine.
“Stable, for now.” He frowned. “Fortunately we have an elaborate defense system, to give plenty of warning. But they’ve been retreating more and more lately. The higher ups seem to think that they might be admitting defeat, but I just don’t think so. I think they’re preparing for something… big.”
He’s right.
I knew the ending of the original story. Around the time Alaira was supposed to graduate, they had attacked in the largest numbers ever seen, necessitating all senior students being recruited to help fight. Even Alaira, who was without a Connector and would have normally been left behind was brought in. They couldn’t afford to leave any powerful guardian out.
I still have a little more time, though. I can train with Liam, maybe get Wen to help upgrade our Mechs, train up some of the students… We can have a chance to really face off against the attack.
There’s still time…
“Don’t let down your guard. You’re the best general we’ve got.” I patted Alaira’s father on the shoulder.
He crushed me in a big hug. “Don’t worry, your dad will protect the galaxy! You just get married in peace.” He leaned in and whispered. “See if he can make a few more of those chocolate cookies, okay?”
“I will, Dad.” It came much more naturally this time.
I’ll protect you too. I added silently.
_______________________
As the wedding drew closer, we were notified that the king and queen were on their way. Liam ignored the news, continuing to work on seating charts and music for the ceremony.
“We have to welcome them when they arrive. They are due any minute.” I finally spoke up, slightly exasperated with his head-in-the-sand act.
“…If we have to.” His voice was cold, his dark blue eyes flickering between fear and annoyance.
I held his hand. “Don’t worry. No matter who they think you are, or what they say about you, just know that you’re my future husband. Don’t worry about anything else.”
He reached out, pulling me tightly against him. “ Thank you.”
“Just play along with them. I held his face between my hands. “You’re Liam. Not Prince William. Not their son. Not Ilene’s brother. Liam.”
WARNING. DIRECTLY CONTRADICTING STORYLINES IS FORBIDDEN.
Liam tilted his head and studied me with a worried expression. “… Are you okay?”
“Just follow my lead. Please.” I looked away from the bright blue words in annoyance and moved.
We went to meet the Royal Family, each of us nervous for different reasons.
The King and Queen looked slightly like Liam and Ilene. The king had curly dark hair, severe features, made worse by the frown as he studied Liam. The Queen had the dark blue eyes that both siblings had, and a beautiful, delicate face… but the overall sense was ruined by the terrified light in her eyes as she almost hid behind her husband.
“So this is the girl you tricked into marrying you?” The king looked at me with morbid curiosity.
Liam took a deep breath. “This is Alaira, Grade S Guardian, my resonance partner and my future wife…”
“What game are you playing, William?” His father snapped, interrupting him. “If this is some ploy to ruin General Gladus, you should stop now.”
“This isn’t…”
“You should stop this now.” The Queen squeaked out nervously at me from behind the King. “He might be my son, but you can’t trust him…”
“…”
“This wedding is a farce.” The king snapped finally. “He’s a monster.”
_______________________
“Why did you follow me?” the mournful voice called out as I entered the dark room.
“Do you want me to leave?” I looked up at the large dark blue eyes curiously, barely able to make out the large form in the darkness.
“I didn’t want you to see… didn’t want you to know…”
“Know what?”
“That I’m a monster.” The whisper was filled with so much pain it made me cry.
_______________________
BAM!
Before I fully came out of the memory, I had punched the King.
“…”
There was a moment of stunned silence from everyone present.
“You dare…!” The King finally spoke up, rubbing his red cheek with a furious expression. “I can have you executed!”
“Just try, Barry.” General Gladus walked in, his hand holding a drawn weapon. “I’ll shoot you in your precious Royal Ass, and then what are you going to lounge on while I fight your wars for you?”
"..."
"..."
"..."
The room processed his words in silence for a moment, before the king burst out angrily.
“Gladus, are you threatening me?!!”
“Oh shut up Barry. " He waved dismissively with his gun. "It wouldn’t even be the first time I’ve shot you. Probably won't be the last." You won’t arrest me, you need me to protect your country.”
“You are willing to let your precious daughter marry this… this… “ The king trailed off, glaring at Liam, who stared calmly back.
“Yes.” General Gladus shrugged “I heard the rumors. Even with the 100% match I wasn’t about to let him hurt my daughter.”
“Then why…?”
“I’ve sat down with your son, Barry. I shook his hand, looked him in the eye. I asked him the hard questions. I’ve observed him around Alaira.” The General stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I know a good man when I see one. And I see one. One who loves my daughter. Maybe you should try looking closer.”
“But he…”
“Plus he makes delicious cookies.” He muttered.
“…He what?”
I stepped forward, blocking Liam behind me. “He’s not a monster. He’s my future husband. I honestly do not care about your opinion. But if you want to try to hurt him, just know… you won’t have to wait for my father to shoot you. I’ll do it first.”
“… Control your child, Gladus.”
“She even threatens you just like me!” He reached out and placed an arm around my shoulders. “So proud.”
“…Fine. “ The King frowned “I won’t try to save you from yourself. Marry him, if you want.”
“I plan to.”
“Whatever you’re plotting, William, you better stop now.” He glared. “You might have fooled them, but you won’t fool me.”
“I don’t have to fool you.” Liam’s eyes were dark. “You mean nothing to me.”
“I’m your father.”
“I have no family. I… I can never have family.” Liam turned away.
“William…” The Queen called out softly.
“I AM NOT William.”
WARNING. World Destabilization detected!
“Come on, Liam. Let’s go.” I grabbed his hand and walked away, calling over my shoulder as we left. “You’re free to attend the wedding, but stay away from us otherwise.”
“You’ll regret this!”
I laughed at his bitter words. “Enjoy the disappointment.”
Liam and I left.
_______________________
We sat in my room, and as soon as my hand left his, he curled up, holding his arms over his head.
“I don’t feel right.”
“Liam.” I reached out and touched his back, feeling him trembling beneath me.
“Who am I? I don’t think I’m William. The things they said… the things William has done… He’s not me.”
Warning!
"He's not me... he can't be... He's not..."
WARNING! World destabilization... Bright blue words and a mechanical voice appeared again.
“SHUT UP!” I yelled, drowning out the voice. I pulled his arms down, looking straight into his dark blue eyes. “You are Liam. And you’re my partner. And tomorrow you’ll be my husband. Nothing else matters..”
“But…”
“I can’t explain things right now. I don’t even know everything right now. But I know there’s a reason we’re here together. I’ve found you, and I won’t leave you.”
He held me close, both of us kneeling on the floor. He was clutching me as if I was the only thing anchoring him. I felt lost myself. I was frustrated at my lack of answers, angry at the pain Liam was experiencing, afraid for the future ahead of us.
“Alaira… no… Bel?” He whispered. “... I love you.”
I smiled at the unfamiliar but familiar name, pressing my face against his shoulder. “I love you too, Liam.”
“Marry me tomorrow.”
“Definitely.”
“Don’t leave me behind… please.”
“I won't... No matter what.”
A long silence fell between us. Finally Liam sat back, his face slightly red. “I wish we were getting married tonight. I can’t help but feel something terrible is going to happen to prevent our wedding.”
Foreshadowing.
Ignoring the ominous word that appeared in my subconscious, I smiled reassuringly. “Nothing is going to happen…”
“ALERT! CODE LEVEL RED. PLEASE REPORT TO EMERGENCY STATIONS. ALERT!”
I sighed. “I take that back.”
We headed to the Command Level in the main Academy.
_______________________
“Dad, what’s going on?” I called out as we passed the main doors.
“Alaira…” General Gladus’ face was uncharacteristically serious. “It’s not good.”
I stood beside him, looking up at the large holographic display at the center of the command room, feeling the blood drain from my face. “The Hive.”
“They’re past our defense systems.” He slammed his fist against the table. “This doesn’t make any sense! How did an army this huge get past us without starting any alarms!”
I stared at the countless red dots on the screen, feeling lost.
This isn’t right. In the story I should have had YEARS before the Hive attacked in such large numbers. Even then they were caught immediately in the defense systems and gave the military time to prepare. How could they get past us… unless…
“Chris.”
He said he was going to end everything. Is this what he meant?
Alaira’s father was confused. “That male student who disappeared? How would he have access to defense system information?”
Chris wouldn’t… but whoever was controlling Chris might have more information.
I let it go for now. “What do we do?”
“There’s too many… and they’re headed for a defenseless planet in this system.” He hung his head. “I don’t have the manpower to defend it.”
I stepped forward, giving him a grim smile. “You’re not alone, Dad. I’ll help.”
“We! We’ll help.” Liam stood beside me. “We’re a powerful combo. You can’t afford to turn us down.”
General Gladus sighed. “Even if I recruit top senior students from the academy… the numbers we have… it’s a suicide mission.”
Warning! Mission Failure Imminent!
Your mission: Prevent destruction of the human race by the alien monster race known as The Hive.
The Hive are now attacking in large numbers. Your estimated chance of success against them in battle is 0%.
“If you’re not gonna say anything helpful, then shut up.” I growled quietly.
Liam turned towards me. “Are you okay?”
If you fail your mission, you will face soul destruction.
“It’s not like I’m swimming in options.”
You have one option.
“Who are you talking to?”
“What is it?” I whispered, holding Liam’s hand and squeezing it. I have to save him.
...
ACCEPT YOUR FATE.
...
I stared at the blue words silently for a few minutes. “Liam, what if I said we have an 100% chance of dying if we went on this mission…”
“You don’t know that…”
“...and I had a fool proof way to protect you… But we would be separated forever?”
I didn’t know what my fate was. But I did know in the deepest part of my soul one thing:
Liam was not my fate.
“I don’t plan to survive this, Liam… but if I could save you…”
“I would rather die by your side.” He didn’t hesitate.
“But…”
He grabbed my other hand, holding them both tightly. “We’ll face this together.”
_______________________
“It’s hopeless.” I whispered, holding him tightly. “What if fate is stronger than us?”
“I don’t need hope, Bel.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “If fate is going to separate us, then we’ll destroy it.”
“Together.”
“Always.”
_______________________
I looked at the hologram, at the countless numbers of enemies that awaited us, and leaned against him with a sigh.
“Together.”
He smiled in return.
“Always.”
168 notes · View notes
harrysweasleys · 3 years
Text
caught in the act // f.w
summary:  how do you feel about writing a request for professor!fred and professor!reader bantering like cRaZy at hogwarts a few years after graduation and things just ~happen~ between them both? like maybe they try to one up each other all the time or they just dislike one another OR they're secretly dating but try to hide it from the students but the students know anyway? i don't even care what it is, i just desperately need professor fred k love u BYE
warnings: flirty and steamy, mentions of food 
word count: 3.7k
a/n: OK so this idea was stemmed from a very long chat between me, @ickle-ronniekins and @wand3ringr0s3 and it has finally been brought to life! this was so much fun to write and i really hope you all enjoy :) [i do not give consent for my work to be reposted on any platform.]
———————————————————————
The familiar echo of the Hogwarts bell never failed to make you jump out of your skin. Especially when you were currently eyeing a class full of students in eerie silence, broken only by the occasional drop of a quill. Their practice exam required lack of noise to the point where you swore you could hear the movements of your ribs as you inhaled and exhaled. 
The ringing sound echoed throughout the class for a short moment, the students in front of you all placing their quills down and forming a line towards your desk, their parchment in hand and some of their faces rather sullen. It was only a practice exam, but the real deal was coming up in a few weeks and revisions were taking up a majority of their free time. You couldn’t tell if their expressions were from the work they just did or from the lack of sleep.
You remembered your exam days at Hogwarts. Long, dreary nights in the common room by the fire until the sun came up, your eyes burning out of your scalp from reading scribbles and notes all night long. Those really were the days, weren’t they?
“I don’t think I did so well, Professor,” one of your students, a fourth year Hufflepuff, said with a defeated tone to his voice, “I couldn’t remember the proper spell.”
You had found it rather odd that for a Charms class, the students had to do a written practice exam. It wasn’t your decision — but you surely questioned it. 
“It’s alright, Edwards,” you grinned back, “It’s not the final thing. This will only prepare you for the one you take in two weeks. Remember, that one is a performance exam. If you’ve got your wand movements down, you’ll be all set.”
The boy nodded, no trace of a smile on his face as he turned away and trudged out of the class, his overly heavy backpack hanging off of his shoulder. 
A frown formed on your lips as the next student walked towards your desk, a confident smile on her face as she handed you her exam paper, “Have a good day, Professor!”
You were about to wish her a good day in return, but a figure by the door caught your attention instead. 
Fred Weasley — or, rather, known to his students as Professor Weasley — stood with his hands in his pockets, his button up shirt tucked tightly into his slacks. His hair was short, standing up and looking soft as ever. 
He shot you a quick wink, causing you to shake your head with a small laugh before you returned to collecting exams. You couldn’t give away that you were, indeed, dating a fellow professor. You were sure, due to the countless times you’ve popped in and out of each other’s classes, that some of them were suspicious. But you could hardly think about that too much without getting paranoid.
Your students filed out of the classroom one by one, each of them excited to finally be on lunch break. You could hear a few of them mutter a quick ‘good afternoon, Professor Weasley’ as they passed by him in the doorway, none of them striking any sort of conversation, much to your pleasure.
“And what can I help you with?” you grinned, standing up from your chair and placing a clip around the stack of papers, sitting them down in the corner of your desk so you could remember to take them with you and look at them in your office later in the evening. You much preferred to do your grading and marking at night — you felt much more ‘in the zone,’ so to speak.
He walked over to you, hands still in his pockets, “What? Can’t pay my girl a visit during breaks?”
You scoffed, taking out a large stack of paper from your desk drawer and preparing for the class of sixth years you had after your break. Fred was inching closer to you with each passing second, taking strides with his long legs as if time was running out and he was trying to get to you as soon as possible without running. You stifled a laugh at his movements.
“Considering no one knows I’m your girl, I’d say no,” you replied, giving him a small smirk, “We don’t want to get caught like last time do we?”
You mentally cringed, thinking back to when fellow professor Neville Longbottom caught you and Fred at the Hogwarts staff Christmas party, your bodies nearly flushed to each other and his head dipping down to whisper in your ear. That might not be a giveaway, but considering the nature of Fred’s words and the way your eyes grew wide as you gave him a slap across the chest, it was a bit of a statement. Neville had asked you that night if anything was going on between you two, to which you replied ‘it’s late, I need to leave.’ 
“Well, it would be a shame for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to be dating the Charms teacher,” he said, a fake grimace on his face, “You’re only the most brilliant person in this entire school. I would be so ashamed if people knew. The highest held Professor, me, dating you, the lowly Charms teacher — a tragedy, really.”
“Oh, excuse me,” you placed a hand over your chest, stepping closer to him and leaning against the edge of your desk, “A shame, you say? I’ll have you know people much prefer my class to yours, anyways. Actually, just this morning, a group of Hufflepuffs told me they liked me best.”
The corner of his lip curved up into a smirk, leaning closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, his hips leaning against yours. You felt his hands slide lower down your back, giving your bottom a quick squeeze. 
“Hands off, Freddie,” you poked him in the chest, “This relationship has now become a competition.”
He pursed his lips, “Well, can the academic competition start tomorrow after we perform the, to kindly put it, physical competition in my room tonight.”
You slid away from him, shaking your head, “You are unbelievable.” 
“Well, believe it, love,” even though you weren’t facing him, you could hear the smirk in his voice, “This is all yours.”
“Uh, Professor Y/L/N?”
You spun on the spot, colour draining completely from your face. You heard Fred let out an awkward cough, facing the doorway where someone now stood. One of the students from your previous class was standing awkwardly, books in her arms and a confused look on her face. 
“Oh, hello, Miss Myers,” you sighed, running a hand down your face, “Professor Weasley, do you mind giving us a moment?” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and the temperature in the room was now a million degrees warmer than it previously was.
Fred grumbled a quick ‘of course,’ and made his way out of the room, turning to give you a wide-eyed expression before closing the door behind him. You let out a deep sigh, falling back into your chair, tossing your hair over your shoulder and looking over at your student.
“Did I interrupt something?” she asked, clearly fighting a grin.
You waved your hand, “No! No,” you tried your best to act nonchalant, letting your student take a seat in front of you, “So, what can I help you with?”
She began expressing her worries for the upcoming exam, all the while you tried giving her the best tips and advice on how to study her charms carefully and safely. You couldn’t count the number of times students had tried their spells outside of the class and had something go horribly wrong. No one wanted to deal with that again.
Though, you kept wondering what she meant by ‘interrupting something.’
You knew that she didn’t mean it in an accusatory manner — you weren’t all cozied up to Fred when she walked in. She couldn’t have seen anything, could she? Even if she did, who would she tell? Headmistress McGonagall was well aware of your relationship with Fred. But she was the only one who knew. You didn’t want to even think about the rumours that would spread if word broke out about your — to put it scandalously — affair.
You honestly weren’t sure what was holding you back from just announcing it. If McGonagall approved, what’s the worst that could happen? 
“Thanks for the help, Professor,” Miss Myers’ voice cut your internal rambling short, causing you to shake your head.
“No problem, my door is always open,” you grinned, motioning your hand in the direction of the door. She gave you a bright grin and picked up her backpack, turning to give you a little wave before making her way out of the classroom, once again, the door shutting closed behind her.
A loud groan left your lips before you dropped your head, letting your forehead smack loudly against the hardwood surface.
———————————————————————
The next two weeks felt like a whirlwind. Not only was the end of term approaching as rapidly as ever, but because your fifth years were rushing towards you every hour of the day to prepare for their OWLs, you were feeling rather happy that you only had a few days left before you were out of here. A lot of them seemed to get the hang of their Charms abilities, but many of them still seemed to be a little off. You couldn’t blame them — fifth year was rough — but you really wanted them all to be successful and to pass. Many of your students wanted to go on and be Aurors. A passing Charms mark was kind of a necessity.
“So you’re alright with overlooking the exam?” the Headmistress asked, her pointy hat standing tall on her head as her emerald robes flowed loosely behind her, the two of you walking towards the Great Hall, “You won’t be alone, but I just wanted to double check.”
You grinned, “Of course, it would be my pleasure.”
The walk to the Hall wasn’t long, but you were feeling suddenly anxious. You had poured your heart and soul into the teaching that you had done this year — you only hoped it paid off enough. You didn’t want to disappoint or let your students down. This was the most important exam yet. 
The Charms exam was tomorrow at noon, so you weren’t sure why your wand was in a knot just yet, but the anxious bubbles in your stomach hadn’t calmed down over the last few days, to be totally honest.
You walked into the silent Hall, no students present yet, and came to a halt as you spotted the redheaded man standing all the way on the other side.
“Oh, so you’re my ever so lovely companion this afternoon?” he grinned, standing up off of his chair and placing the stack of papers down on the table in front of him, his sweater clinging rightfully to his body and causing you to scan your eyes up and down his figure. He had a pen sticking out from behind his ear and you could see the pleased expression cross his face, even from the other side of the room.
“I suspect you two will behave,” McGonagall said from next to you, her eyes twinkling with some sort of amusement as she gazed between the two of you, eyebrows raised.
“When do I not behave, Minerva?” Fred asked cockily, shoving his hands into his pockets — which suddenly seemed to be a signature move for him. You weren’t really sure where it came from, but you weren’t complaining. It gave him some sort of authoritarian vibe, which was one of the many reasons you felt as if today might be a tough day.
Leaving you and Fred alone, McGonagall left the hall with a quick shake of her head, her little heels clacking loudly. You rolled your eyes, walking over to stand next to him. Even as you walked up the few stairs to the platform, Fred’s height towered over you and caused you to crane your neck up to look him in the eyes.
“Well, well, well,” he grinned, his hands finding their way to your lower back, sliding down so that they rested in the bum pockets of your jeans.
“Fred!” you squeaked, giving him a light slap across the bicep before pulling away, “We’ve almost been caught twice. Third time is definitely not the charm, here.”
He let out a low chuckle, his chest vibrating and his eyes crinkling in the corners. You loved the sight of him in a good mood, your heart doing a little flip in your chest as he ran a hand through his hair. 
You couldn’t help yourself, leaning up onto your tip toes and pressing a light kiss to his lips, pulling away ever-so-quickly, reaching up and pulling the pen out from behind his ear in the process, putting it down on the little desk next to the chair he was previously seated in.
“Ha! Gotcha,” you grinned, using your index finger to tap his nose lightly. 
“Oh, okay,” he nodded, hands immediately finding their way around your waist, “That’s not fair, love.”
His lips quickly found their way down to yours, warm and inviting as always. No matter how many times you kissed him, you never got tired of it. You still got the same amount of tingles and butterflies as you did the first time he kissed you. And that’s not something you ever imagined would change. 
“Fred,” you mumbled against his lips, a low groan leaving his throat as you tried your best to wiggle out of his grasp. You could hear the voices of students down the corridor— they were bound to enter the Great Hall any second now. This was not the position you wanted them to see you two in. 
“Fine, fine,” he mumbled, pulling away and rolling his eyes. His lips were red and his cheeks were slightly flushed, but he looked as dashing as ever. It was hard for him not to look like this, actually. Something in Fred Weasley’s blood just made him irresistible. You often felt like cursing him out, honestly. 
Seconds later, the large door opened and the room was no longer silent. Fred shot you a quick wink, sending your heart into a fluttering frenzy, before you turned to face the oncoming group. 
“Good morning!” you announced with a somehow steady voice, “Everyone find your seat so we can begin!” 
It took a few minutes, but eventually the group each found their assigned desks and sat down, taking out their quills and parchment. 
“You have two hours,” Fred clapped his hands together, echoing loudly throughout the room, “And the two of us will be here if you have any questions. The lovely Professor Y/L/N has volunteered to keep me company, probably because she finds me irresistible—” you rolled your eyes, “—but we’ll both answer any questions you have.” 
You looked to the ground, hair falling into your face as you bit your tongue, holding back any snarky remarks towards your idiotic boyfriend. He really wasn’t helping the whole ‘lowkey’ aspect to your relationship.
“Does anyone have any questions before we start?” he asked, lifting his left arm to check the watch on his wrist. You finally peered back up, gazing over at the large clock that was sitting behind you. You immediately regretted not bringing a cup of tea or a snack, but the two hours were bound to fly by. This wasn’t your first time overlooking an exam period, and each time you’ve done this before, it’s never felt like it was dragging on.
“Good luck everyone!” you called out with a smile, clapping your hands together. They all began scribbling away as you finished your sentence, the scratching sound being the only noise you could hear as any previous chatter had now completely ceased. 
You walked slowly over to Fred, your hands crossed over your chest as you raised an eyebrow, “Really smooth, you know? Nearly gave us away, you did.”
He shrugged, giving you a lopsided grin, “Oh, come on. Pretty sure half this lot know we’re together anyways. They may be younger, but they’re not completely dim-witted.”
Scoffing and turning your back to the group to face him better, you tried your best to give Fred a serious glare, “None of them are dim-witted, Fred. I’m just saying it would be nice to avoid the drama that comes with public teacher relationships.”
You took a step back as he took one towards you, trying your best to maintain some sort of professional distance. The students might be busy with their work, but that didn’t mean they were blind to the two Professors standing watch at the front of the room. 
“I gotta admit, love,” he nodded his head, lowering his voice and leaning in, “the sneaking around has been rather fun.”
His voice sent shivers down your body, goosebumps rising on your skin. You forgot how to breathe for a second, quickly trying your best to regain your composure so the students didn’t see you looking like a fish out of water. 
You let out a low cough, clearing your throat and nodding, “It has, hasn’t it?”
The grin on his face was practically contagious, causing the corners of your own lips to turn up before lifting a hand to toss your hair out of your face. You gazed up at him, running your tongue over your bottom lip before pulling it between your teeth, shooting him a wink in the process.
You could see the way his eyes were drawn to your every move, looking at your lips as if in some sort of trance. It caused a little sense of pride to blossom in your chest, to be honest. Fred was often the one who had you locked in a permanent dreamy state. It wasn’t everyday that you had the upper hand.
“Not bloody fair,” he tossed his head back, “Y’know how badly that makes me want to kiss you.”
You smirked, giving him a quick shrug of your shoulders and turning away, swaying your hips as you walked over to the chair that was a few feet away, sitting down comfortably and giving him another wink. You could tell his gaze was on your hips as you walked away — the darker tone in his eyes now locked on you.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
———————————————————————
“You’re a real piece of work, y’know?” he groaned in your ear, leaning over you as you organized the pile of recently collected exams, making sure that Fred’s proximity wasn’t a distraction. You weren’t being overly successful at that last part, though. You could smell his cologne and the warmth of his skin as he stood mere inches away, knowing damn well that he was causing you to stutter in your work.
You had been teasing Fred the entire exam period, sending him winks and lingering looks, even being bold enough to run your hand through his hair at one point, making sure to rake your nails lightly down the nape of his neck, enough to cause his body to erupt in goosebumps. He gave you a stern look after that, letting you know that he was now completely and utterly under your charm. 
“Am I? Well, this is a competition, if you remember correctly. I think I won.” you spun around, leaning against the desk, a teasing look on your face. 
“Oh, you definitely won,” his hands slid around your waist, delicately but firmly. He had a way with body language that was unmatched, you had to admit. 
Taking a step closer to you and pulling your body closer to his, he dipped his head and began to pepper your jaw with light kisses.
“Fred,” you giggled, weakly attempting to push him away, “Not right now.”
He groaned against your neck, his lips continuing to press kisses along your skin. It was rendering your mind nearly completely blank, but you tried your best to stay focused, to make sure that you guys wouldn’t get caught and ruin the secrecy aspect to your hidden romance. Plus, you really didn’t want McGonagall to catch you in such a scandalous position. 
“Honestly, do you have no self control?” you asked, successfully pushing him away. You missed the warmth of his body pressed against yours, but you had a feeling you’d be getting a lot of that tonight so you weren’t too upset about it. He’d more than make up for it in a few hours.
“Not around you, love,” he grinned, running a hand through his hair. You wished you were the one doing it instead, but once again, you had a feeling you’d be doing that quite a bit tonight, so you figured you’d wait until you could do it with no worries of anyone cutting in. He loved the feeling of your hands running through his hair, delicately giving little tugs every now and then. 
You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you picked up the pile of finished exams, “You’re too much.” 
Fred followed closely after you as you made your way towards the exit of the Hall, his hands empty but he kept them to himself this time, “But you love me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
———————————————————————
After having been empty this afternoon, the Great Hall was now bustling with life. The four house tables were filled with students and food, echoes of distant and nearby conversations reverberating around the crowded room. It wasn’t a sight one could get used to. Yes, you had spent seven years of your youth here, and a few years as a Professor now, but the atmosphere of this room would never quite sink in.
Professor Neville Longbottom, who was currently seated next to you, was rambling on about a mishap that happened in his class that day — something about a first year Gryffindor knocking over eight potted plants — and you nodded along and laughed as he made jokes. 
“Can you believe it?” he asked, eyes wide as he munched on a potato, “He thought Mandrakes and Mimbulus Mimbletonia were the same thing!”
You let out an amused snort, “Kind of hard to think that,” you took a sip of your goblet of wine, “But I guess some people don’t have the magical knack for plants that you do.” You nudged him in the side with a smile.
He grinned at the compliment, the tips of his ears turning a deep shade of red. Neville was two years below you while in school, but his knowledge of plants and nature was way beyond you.
The conversation fell to a lull and Neville became invested in chatting with the person to his other side. You didn’t pay much attention to who it was, as your eyes were now trained to the other end of the table, where the usual seat of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor was occupied by your boyfriend. 
His eyes were already looking in your direction, causing a heat to surge through your body. A lazy smile was on his lips, and he clearly wasn’t paying attention to the elderly Professor Slughorn seated to his right. 
“I love you,” you could read his lips, his eyes bright as they stayed locked on yours. His smile was genuine and loving, quite opposite to the teasing one he usually gave you, and it left your stomach feeling rather fluttery.
You bit your lower lip, fighting a grin, before moving your lips in return, “I love you more.”
———————————————————————
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