#eri is planning my funeral as we speak

[hakusins]

CAGE EVENT CAGE EVENT CAGE EVENT CAGE EVENT-!!!!!!!!!

[come-away-with-me87]

The Art of Love Chapter 5

Chapter 4 here

******

"Please, have a seat," as you motioned to the seat on the other side of your desk.  Shouta and you both sat down in your respective seats, and he looked around your desk for a moment.  It was primarily scattered with the kids' drawings, but over to the side, there was a picture of you and Kento from your engagement photoshoot.  Even though he's been gone for years, you never had the heart to take it down.  You had told yourself it was a reminder of the decision you had made back at his funeral, but now you were having complicated feelings about everything.

"Is that you and your husband?" Shouta asked, finally speaking up first.  "Oh...oh. That's...that was my fi-fiance, Kento. He passed away a few years ago."  Shouta looked over at you, "I see. I'm sorry."  You looked over at the picture for a moment, then looked back over at Shouta, "thank you."  You two sat there in an awkward silence for another moment, until you said to Shouta, "so, you wanted to tell me about Eri's past and why she's here?"  His shoulders seemed to relax a little bit after the awkwardness, simply replying, "yes."  

Shouta then went on to explain everything from the beginning.  For years, she was used and abused as an experiment to make a Quirk-Destroying drug by the leader of the Shie Hassaikai, Overhaul.  "Her body was destroyed then restored over and over again by Overhaul's Quirk," Shouta said with venom in his voice.  He then went on to explain how he Shie Hassaikai joined forces with the League of Villains, which is when the rescue plan was put in order by a pro-hero named Sir Nighteye.  After much grief and loss, Mirio and a boy named Izuku Midoriya were finally able to rescue Eri, with Mirio losing his Quirk in the process.

"Eri lived a very fearful and secluded life," Shouta stated.  "We never saw her smile for the first time until long after she was rescued, when Mirio took her to the U.A. School Festival.  I've been working with her since then on maintaining her Quirk.  Overall, she shows to be better, but I thought this class could also, in a way, provide a form of therapy to her that the U.A. can't."  You sat there and just looked at Shouta with tears in your eyes; what a heartbreaking situation for a young girl to go through.  You blinked back your tears, trying to remain professional, and brought out some of Eri's artwork.

You slid her self-portrait across the desk to Shouta stating, "this is one that has concerned me the most so far."  Shouta picked up the drawing from the desk and observed it.  "Interesting..." you heard him say for the second time now.  "It's difficult to tell, but this looks like the outfit she was in when she was being held captive in. She had on a tan dress and was covered in bandages."  He put the drawing back down and you automatically looked down at it, saying "it seems she still views herself that way for some reason."  "I agree," Shouta replied, "I'll talk with her about it tonight after we're done training."  

"What exactly are you training her on, if you don't mind my asking?"  He looked up at you thoughtfully for a moment, "I'm helping her train on controlling her Quirk since she was never taught how to. She's shown tremendous progress so far, but still has a ways to go."  You smiled at him in response, "you're pretty remarkable, you know that? You spend your days teaching and training students on becoming heroes, then you spend your evenings training Eri. It takes a pretty special person to do something like that."  Shouta slightly blushed and looked down at his lap, quietly saying, "it's not a big deal."  You just smiled again in response.

He looked back up at you, "the colors she chose for her mandala..." he trailed off, "I believe she associates those colors with Overhaul," to which he explained what Overhaul's outfit consisted of.  "Ah, it makes sense why you said it was interesting when you first saw it. I promise, I will do my best to continue working with Eri through her trauma, and help her become the best version of herself," you said with confidence to Shouta.  "It seems like she is also in excellent hands with everyone at the U.A., so between that and her art therapy, I'm confident that she'll heal."  

It was Shouta's turn to smile at you, "thank you for taking her into your class, Y/N. She thinks very highly of you, saying you're very kind to her. I can tell you're a warm person, and I appreciate you now being a part of not only her healing process, but her life."  Now it was your turn to blush.  "Listen, I don't normally do this, but I would like to give you my personal phone number in case you ever need me for anything...for Eri, of course."  You wrote your phone number down on a piece of paper, and slid it across the desk to him.  "Thank you, Y/N, I appreciate that. I'll give my number as well, in case something happens in the classroom or you're concerned about anything...regarding Eri."

He ripped off a small piece of paper from the one you gave him, wrote his number down on it, and slid it back across the desk to you.  "Well, I better get back to the campus. I have training with Eri and I also have papers to grade. Thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to talk to me."  You smiled over at him, "it was my pleasure."  You both got up at the same time, and you walked him over to the door.  "Thank you, Shouta, for everything you've been doing for Eri; I can tell you've been such a positive influence in her life; she's lucky to have someone like you."  He smiled at you once more, said goodbye, then took his leave.  You couldn't help but stand there and stare at him walking away.

You went back to your desk, picked up the piece of paper with Shouta's number on it, and plugged his number into your cell phone.  You then noticed yourself smiling the whole while.  After you finished putting his name and number in your contacts list, you put your phone down, and took a deep breath.  Sure, Shouta had some sort of effect over you that you couldn't explain, but you only have his phone number for Eri's sake.  That was all.  At least, that's what you told yourself, as you continued to smile down at Shouta's name in your contacts list.

******

To be continued...

******

Tag list: @lili-pond ; @jaguarthecat ; @big-denki-energy ; @ivydoesit23

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: reading canon eris discourse literally makes me dizzy but in this fic he's pretty chill

***

“Any plans for Thanksgiving?” Emerie asks as they stroll between the shelves of the library.

Nesta runs her finger down the spine of a textbook on corporate law. “Not really,” she murmurs distantly.

She’s been doing her best not to think of the upcoming holidays, in fact. Cassian is going to Velaris for Thanksgiving, and of course Feyre invited Nesta as well, but…

She’s always ignored her sister’s holiday invites, but this year is different. Cassian, a recent constant in her life, will be gone, enjoying himself for the first time in months without her presence. And Nesta will be at the cabin alone, because of course she can’t celebrate Thanksgiving with Feyre’s found family. Being friends with Cassian hasn’t changed that.

“Well,” Emerie is saying, “a bunch of us can’t go home for the holidays for one reason or another, so we’re hosting a small Friendsgiving at my apartment. You’re invited.”

Nesta glances at her, surprised. “Who’s going to be there?”

“The same guys from drinks night: Eris, Justinian, Isaac. Maybe a plus one or two if we’re lucky.” She elbows Nesta. “Maybe a girl for me to take home.”

“I thought the party was at your home already?”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, are you coming?”

Nesta purses her lips. “But you said it was a Friendsgiving. Those guys aren’t my friends.”

Emerie looks at her like she's insane. “Uh, why not?”

“Because,” Nesta states, “we’ve only had one real interaction all semester.”

Emerie scoffs. “You talk to them all the time in class, Nesta.”

“Yes. Out of necessity.”

Emerie raises a high brow. “That’s how you view spending time with us? A ‘necessity’?”

She’s upset, and Nesta doesn’t know what she said wrong. “That’s not what I meant,” she tries to say.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I just…” Nesta shrugs. “I thought it took more to make friends than a single night out.” Those are the rules, right?

Emerie narrows her dark eyes at her. “I’m sorry we’re not up to standard, then. But for your information, those guys liked you. I’m sure they considered you a friend.” She turns to leave, but Nesta is so stunned she can’t even try to stop her. The click of Emerie’s heels resonate long after she’s gone.

“Hey,” Cassian comes up to her later that day. “About Thanksgiving—”

Nesta drops her dinner plate onto the island with a clatter. “What is it with everybody and Thanksgiving?” Her voice is unnecessarily loud.

Cassian blinks. “Well, it’s only a few days away—”

“I know,” she says. “I’m fine staying home alone. We never celebrated Thanksgiving growing up, you know? It’s really not a big deal.”

“Will you let me finish, Nesta?”

Nesta presses her lips together.

Cassian takes a breath. “I think you should— I would really love it if you came to Velaris with me this weekend.”

There’s a silence as he waits for her to answer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says after a moment.

Before he can press the subject, she blurts, “I already have plans.”

“You do?” Nesta can’t tell if he sounds disappointed or surprised.

She straightens her back, lying through her teeth, “Yes. Some friends from school are getting together for a Friendsgiving, and I’m going.” She almost bites her tongue on the word friends. She doesn’t even know what that means anymore.

“That’s amazing,” Cassian says, though he still looks a little taken aback. “I’m glad.” He looks down at the marble counter then, trying to smile. “Sucks for me, though.”

Nesta huffs a laugh. “Please, like you won’t be having fun with your friends whether I’m there or not.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but why go for half the fun when I could go for double?”

“That’s not how math works,” she snipes.

Cassian grabs a fork so he can sit down across from Nesta. “Don’t you ever bring up correct math in this house again.” He points his silverware at her threateningly.

From there, they can devolve into their usual dinner habit of bantering that leads to more serious conversation. Cassian has recently been on a French movie binge, Nesta learns, and even though she despises the French, she listens closely to his analysis of each film and offers her own thoughts back. She even promises to rewatch one or two of his favorites at a later time. The giddiness he gives in return makes her almost wish she had accepted his invitation earlier, if only so she could keep making him happy.

God. What is he doing to her?

Later that night, Nesta pulls out her phone and opens up her messages with Emerie. She doesn’t want to have rejected Cassian just to end up staying home alone all weekend. She types out five different messages and erases them before settling on an apathetic, Is the invite for Thursday still on?

Emerie takes her time to reply, likely to punish Nesta. After some minutes, she finally texts, Yes.

It’s all she can expect from Emerie, and it’s all she needs to see.

Nesta: I’ll be there.

***

“Cassian!” Feyre swings open the door with an overjoyed smile, ready to greet him.

He laughs and steps in for a hug, going so far as to lift her feet off the floor. Because damn him, even with his conflicted feelings towards Feyre lately, he’s missed her. He’s missed all of his friends, even though he’s found something precious while he was away from them.

He’s ushered into the penthouse, which Feyre and Rhys insist on calling an “apartment”, as if that softens the blow of their extravagant wealth. Cassian and everybody else goes along with it, however, because the rich have committed worse crimes. At least that’s what Nesta says.

“Rhys is out getting last minute beer from the gas station,” Feyre says as she takes his overnight bag. “And you’re the first to arrive, which means I have you all to myself.” She whirls on him with a predatory gleam in her eye. “Tell me everything about the last two months with you and Nesta, ASAP.”

Cassian’s heart starts racing at the unexpected interrogation, but he laughs it off and shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just roommates.”

“Well, I know that.” Feyre rolls her eyes. “But what is it like? How is it going? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

Before he can answer a single question, Feyre goes on. “I haven’t heard from either of you in eons, it feels like. Is Nesta still picky about her foods touching? Does she get upset when you play music too loud? Does she—”

“Jesus, Feyre,” Cassian interrupts loudly. “Not everything in my life is about your sister. Give it a rest.” He takes his duffel bag back from her.

“I’m just curious!” she says indignantly, but Cassian is already heading up the winding stairs to his guest room, going as fast as he can without outright running.

“I need to get washed up!” he announces before Feyre can make him stop and come back for more questioning.

In the safety of his bedroom, he releases a breath.

If Cassian thought keeping Nesta’s health issues from Feyre was difficult, he couldn’t have predicted how painful it would be to hide his feelings for Nesta. Still, he doesn’t dare expose what he can’t yet define, especially not to his nosy-ass friends. Some things just aren’t matters for gossip.

***

Nesta hesitantly enters Emerie’s small studio apartment to a party in full swing; “full swing” being Justinian and Isaac playing video games on the couch while Emerie is in the kitchen area attempting to make drinks. Nesta stops near the kitchenette and crosses her arms, surveying the scene. “Something about this doesn’t look right,” she says aloud. Emerie doing the hard work while the men play? Antithetical to her very nature.

“I know,” is all Emerie says without looking up from whatever hellish concoction she’s whipping up. “But I’m the host, so this is my role.”

“Hey, Nesta,” the guys speak up together, not taking their eyes off the TV. Isaac is the first to break his concentration from the game, glancing at Nesta and doing a double take. “Woah, you look good today.” Is he blushing?

Emerie finally looks up at that, eyeing Nesta’s modest black dress. “A little funeral-chic, but still hot as ever, babe.” Right after, she makes a face at the term babe. “Nope, I tried it and I hate it.”

Nesta hates it just as much, but goes over to help Emerie with what she now realizes are oddly colored Jello shots. She picks up a little plastic cup with dark jelly in it and wiggles it around. “What color is this supposed to be?”

“Brown.” Emerie blows a piece of escaped hair out of her face. “They were supposed to be Thanksgiving themed.”

Nesta surveys the shots arranged in various fall colors. Definitely an interesting choice for a twenty-four year old law student, but what did Nesta know about parties?

“Where’s Eris?” she asks casually as she helps arrange more cups. Her argument with Emerie is far from forgotten, but the two women are too alike for their own good. They’ll ignore the lingering tension until it dissipates, and that will be the end of that.

Before Emerie can answer Nesta’s question, a loud bang comes from the entryway as the already open door hits the wall. Eris Vanserra sweeps inside in his designer coat and sophisticated boots, followed by a new, striking face. “It’s fucking freezing,” he announces, just as the new guy quietly shuts the door behind them.

“You’re late,” Emerie says in her usual flat tone.

“I had to pick up my twerp brother.” Eris tilts his head toward the redhead behind him.

“I didn’t ask to come,” the new guy, Eris’s brother, chimes in.

Nesta is perked up now, angling to get a better look at him. Same hair color, same eyes, different skin tone from Eris. He looks like the relaxed, unpretentious version of his brother. Someone pauses the video game.

“I’m Lucien,” he awkwardly raises a hand.

Justinian looks at everybody else. “I’m confused— does this mean we can finally replace Eris’s punk ass?”

The thought of an unexpected guest first makes Nesta clench up, especially when she’s seated right next to the damn guy at the dining table. New people means everything about the regular social routine will be changed up, and she isn’t at all prepared for it.

It takes maybe fifteen minutes for her to realize that Lucien is nothing to worry about— much quicker than she’s ever warmed up to a stranger before.

He has the affected quiet confidence of someone who would rather be anywhere else but here. No one knows that mask better than Nesta.

Against all odds, she’s the first to initiate a conversation.

“Why are you here?” she says bluntly.

No hello, no how are you. Fuck, this is why she doesn’t talk to people.

Lucien looks surprised at the sudden acknowledgment, but answers, “My plans got cancelled at the last minute.” His mouth tightens as he looks toward his brother. “So Eris dragged me here instead.”

“You don’t like your brother?”

Lucien narrows his eyes at her, defensive. “Is this an interrogation or something?”

Embarrassment heats Nesta’s face, but she hides it under her usual cold stare. “Never mind.”

She turns back to her food, refocusing on an anecdote Isaac is giving about a girl he met the other week. A moment later, Lucien says lowly, “I can’t stand my brother.”

She laughs a little too loudly at that, and everyone looks at her.

Isaac grins. “See, Nesta thinks it’s a funny story.”

Nesta frowns. “No, I don’t. You told it last week and no one laughed.”

His face falls. Eris laughs out loud at him, and Emerie tosses wadded up napkins at both men. “You’re both deeply uninteresting. Let’s talk about me.”

She launches into a heated discussion about how she plans to defeat “that bitch Brian” for the internship at Velaris’s biggest law firm next summer, with Eris interjecting that she wouldn’t survive a day in the big city. Nesta turns back to Lucien. “I understand how you feel.”

“You hate Eris too?”

“No, but I have sisters.” Eris is nice, if a pretentious asshole at times, but she empathizes with Lucien either way.

He raises a brow. “And you’re here for Thanksgiving instead of with them?”

For the first time all night, Nesta remembers that Cassian is having fun in a spacious penthouse with Feyre and Elain and the others, likely eating much nicer food than store-bought turkey and Jello shots, and she almost deflates. Almost. Because as much as she enjoys this— spending time with people that belong to her, not Feyre or anybody else— there’s a hollow space in the room that Cassian usually fills. She doesn’t know how she can miss someone and be this thoroughly content at the same time, but she tries not to ponder on her feelings.

She shrugs at Lucien’s question. “We’re all here instead of with our families.”

What would have been a thirty-minute meal on Nesta’s own stretches into a long night of full bellies and fuller conversation. Justinian demands a toast in honor of Friendsgiving, and Emerie tells him not to pull that cringy shit, but everyone ends up raising their small Jello shots to clink against each other.

Thanksgiving might be Nesta’s favorite holiday.

***

Cassian doesn’t know what this feeling is: the itching, nervy sense of impatience that plagues him the longer dinner drags on. All he knows is that tonight Mor’s laughter is just a little too loud, and Amren’s quips are just a little too sharp, and Rhys’s stories aren’t very interesting for once.

Nothing about his friends have changed, but somehow, Cassian feels different. Empty. He can’t stop thinking about what Nesta is doing right now.

He checks his phone under the table for the sixth time in three minutes, for what, he doesn’t know. Maybe she’s in trouble and needs his help. Maybe she’s having a bad night and wants to talk to him. Maybe she’s just bored and thinking about him.

None of this is true, evidently, because his phone remains dead silent.

“Cassian.” It’s Elain’s gentle voice that draws him out of his head. “What’s it like having a roommate for once? I know you and Nesta love being alone.”

He nearly jumps out of his skin. “Alone? No we don’t. Why would we love being alone together?”

Elain looks at him like he’s grown a new head. “I didn’t mean alone together. It’s just that you’ve always spent your time boarded up in that mountain cabin on your own, and before Nesta moved in, she wouldn’t leave her apartment even to see me.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Feyre butts in. She whirls to Cassian with her hands under her chin. “All this time I was wondering what you and Nesta living together would be like, and I didn’t even consider you guys avoiding each other.”

Cassian scoffs a laugh but doesn’t know how to respond. He just wants Feyre and Elain to stop poking at this raw, fresh thing in his life before his nerves get worse, so he turns to Amren and brings up the thing he knows will shut everyone down: work. “How much longer is Rhys gonna have you playing double agent at Adriatic?” She’s been acting as brand ambassador to the West Coast-based conglomerate for the past five months, playing nice while gathering information on Night Court Inc.’s biggest competitor.

Groans resound around the table, but Amren’s eyes brighten frightfully. “If he keeps me there any longer, I might end up staying for good.”

Rhysand smiles thinly. “Amren has a crush on their new CFO. If she keeps going on about Varian’s pretty face I might pull her out of Adriatic by the end of the year.”

Just as Cassian is about to convince himself to care, his phone vibrates in his hand. Everything tunes out as he sees Nesta’s name on the screen, attached to a new text. He clicks into it.

A picture of Nesta and her friends around a dinner table pops up, smiling and laughing. His heart catches in his throat at the image.

“What did we say about phones during dinner, Cassian?” Rhysand interrupts just then.

Cassian stands up quickly, stammering, “Uh, I just need to answer this call— it’s important.” Azriel is staring up at him like he’s lost his mind, but Cassian doesn’t notice or care as he rushes out of the room with his phone in a death grip, overcome.

Alone in a hallway bathroom, he lets himself look at the picture again, hungrily absorbing every detail he couldn’t catch the first time around: her face is flushed and her hair is down, wilder than usual. Her smile is so rarely genuine that it kills him a little just to see it; he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or pained that she’s having such a good time, that she isn’t missing him like he’s missing her. A sharp-faced girl that Cassian assumes is Emerie is holding the camera, likely having stolen Nesta’s phone to demand a picture, and the two women are surrounded by guys he doesn’t recognize. Except—

The face beside Nesta’s catches Cassian’s attention, and he clicks to zoom in. “Is that Lucien Vanserra?” he mutters.

Elain’s ex gets to hang out with Nesta while he doesn’t? This is fucked.

He doesn’t have a reason for his actions as he shoves his phone into his pocket and exits the bathroom. He just knows he needs to get out of here, away from this place that’s so far from Nesta’s heart.

His keys and coat hang near the front door, and he can hear Feyre’s voice from the dining room. “Cassian? Where are you—”

The door slams behind him before she can finish.

***

Being the only one who refused to get drunk off Jello shots, Eris offers to drive Nesta home for the night.

While Lucien is passed out in the backseat without a care in the world, Nesta is so awake she can feel her nerves buzzing. She knows as soon as she leaves this car, the bittersweet loneliness that comes after a party will set in, but for now…

What a night. She sighs and lets her head fall back against the seat, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Damn,” Eris lets out a low whistle as he pulls up to the mountain cabin. “This is your place?”

She lifts her head, realizing she’s home. “Ah. It’s only a temporary living situation,” she explains. “It’s my— friend’s place.”

“Friend or sugar daddy?” Eris smirks.

Nesta scowls, grabbing her stuff and pushing open the door to leave. It’s not Eris’s fault she’s unable to take a joke about Cassian, but that doesn’t change the sensitivity of the topic.

“Hey, wait—” he calls after her.

She pauses to look back at him. He hesitates, then says, “Good night.”

“Take care of your brother,” she directs. Stepping out of his fancy car, she shuts the door and raises a hand in goodbye, watching him pull away from the cabin.

Alone in the driveway, Nesta stands under the moonlight for a long moment, letting the chill seep into her bones. She’s dawdling.

She pauses again at the front door, her hand on the doorknob. The dreaded loneliness is already coming over her, crawling over her skin and making a home in the cage of her ribs.

A whole weekend without Cassian.

Maybe she should have asked Emerie if she could stay over for the night, but a part of her knows it would have been futile. Emerie can’t replace Cassian’s constant presence, no matter how much Nesta likes her.

It’s only three days. She steels herself and unlocks the door, prepared to be greeted by darkness and hollow silence.

The first thing she notices when she steps inside is the sound of crackling, followed by a warm glow from the living area. The lights are all off, but the fireplace is ablaze.

Nesta’s brows furrow, confused, but then she sees on the couch— “Cassian?”

***

a/n: i know justinian and isaac are names for side characters that sjm has used before but in this case they're completely different ocs.

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja

[vanserraseris]

END OF PART XIII - Eris and his mother talk. I love the Lady of Autumn, and I really hope we see a lot more of her in the next books. Just a warning that there are mentions of character death. Thank you to everyone who reads.

ash stop making me cry

Prince of Ashes. Part XIII.

masterlist.

“Pity you had not been with them.” 

His father’s words from earlier that morning rang clear in Eris’s ears as he stood outside the door to his mother’s chambers. What if his mother thought the same? Eris did not want to see the Lady of Autumn, he breathed in deeply through his nose as he stood in the hall outside her room.

He could not bear to face her, not after he’d seen her fall to her knees, her hands fisted in her hair, the anguished cry that had left her lips nothing short of horrible. Eris found himself wishing he could hide under his covers like he’d done as a youngling and wait for this storm to pass, all the others had.

Since Maddox had returned, Cato’s and Owain’s bodies with him, the entire Autumn Court had been thrown into chaos. The territory bordering Winter was left without a leader, the Royal Guard was left without a captain, the people were all left shocked. - Maddox had been quick to put the blame on Eris — for not being there, for spoiling Lucien, for fighting to keep the runt alive the day he’d been born. Eris didn’t blame Maddox for being angry, he’d been angry as well.

Eris had broken the arm of a rich lord for expressing his “sincerest apologies,” Eris was positively certain that he had never been sincere about anything in his entirely too long and worthless life. Eris had also attacked his father’s favourite adviser like some wild beast for suggesting he’d planned the whole thing, that he’d wanted Cato and Owain dead. Eris had nearly strangled him, would have killed him, if Priam and Rufus hadn’t been there to intervene.

Eris felt like everything was falling apart.

With one last exhale, Eris knocked softly on his mother’s door. Rufus had begged him to speak to her, tears in his eyes. She’d gone to the courtyard to see the funerary pyres earlier that day and hadn’t spoken to anyone since. His mother did not answer. Eris had not been expecting her to. He pushed the door open slowly, trying to steady his shaking hand.

His mother was sitting on the edge of her large bed, staring at the wall, her russett eyes emptier than he’d ever seen them before. Eris had seen corpses that looked more alive. 

“Mother?” Eris noticed that there were no flames in the fireplace. The constant crackling and snapping sounds of a roaring fire usually set his mind at ease, so with half a thought, Eris lit some of the small candles in the room, the fireplace coming alive with the slight lift of his fingers.

Her voice was void of any emotion as she responded. “I did not ask for you.”

Eris flinched as he walked towards her, “I know.” He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to muster his softer side, he’d been angry and rude all day. Eris was going to be like Rufus, he was going to be kind and loving, he could be kind and loving if he tried. He decided to get on his knees by the edge of his mother’s bed, thinking it would be better if he wasn’t looking down at her as he spoke.

“I did not want children,” his mother whispered, her eyes still staring at the wall. “Not with him.”

“I know.” It was no secret that his mother was sold into marriage with Beron against her will. Sometimes Eris forgot how young she had been when she’d married the High Lord of the Autumn Court, how young she’d been when she’d had her first child.

“I would pray to the Mother, beg her not to bring a child into this home, every night. It scared me, thinking about what he might do to my children. I had thought the Mother was deaf to my prayers when I learned that I was pregnant with you.” The Lady of Autumn turned to face her eldest son, an unreadable emotion in her eyes, “But you were born, and you were small, and precious and I loved you more than anything, loved each of your brothers the same.”

She looked at Eris as tears filled her eyes, “I tried so hard, Eris. You know that I tried?” 

His mother had sounded so uncertain, so unsure of herself. Eris nodded, “We all know that you did your best.” Eris didn’t know if he could actually speak for the rest of his brothers, but even if none of them cared about anything else, Eris knew they cared about their mother.

She took a shaky breath, “I fear that the Mother remembers those prayers, Eris, that she is punishing me for them, and I will be doomed to watch all my sons die.” Eris did not respond, not knowing what to say. On his knees in front of her, Eris felt like he was about to beg for her forgiveness. Perhaps he should. Eris stiffened when his mother lifted her hand. It hovered between them for a moment before she put her hand back to her lap, the black skirts of her dress rustling. “You always did that,” she mumbled. “The only child I'd ever seen flinch away from his mother’s touch.”

He would have rather she hit him. “I’m sorry.” The words coming from his mouth sounded hollow, unused, but he meant them.

She shook her head, red curls bouncing, “It’s hardly your fault.” She turned both her hands, palms up, a silent offering. Eris knew his mother wouldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t reach out to take them. “Have you been to the courtyard?”

Eris placed one of his hands into hers, “No.” Eris didn’t know if he wanted to go, even if all the others had gone. 

She traced his knuckles with her thumb, “You should, they look at peace.” She tightened her hold on his hand, her voice dropping to a whisper again. “I didn’t know it would hurt this much, Eris, like someone’s ripped out my heart.” Tears streamed down her face, and she actually looked like she might have been in physical pain.

She shook her head, “You know, Cato sounded a bit like Rufus when he laughed.” Eris didn't know that, didn’t know what Cato sounded like when he’d laughed, didn’t think he’d heard him before. Eris was finding it hard to breathe. His mother’s grip on his hand tightened even more, “My little boys, Eris, I’ve failed them.” Eris was going to burn the house to the ground. He didn’t think their mother had failed them, he didn’t think if he said it to her it’d make anything better.

“Tell me what to do,” Eris almost begged, “Tell me what I can do to help.”

She took another shaky breath, voice wavering as she said, “I don’t want him to light the pyres, Eris.”

“I'll do it,” he could convince his father to let him do it.

She nodded once, letting go of his hand, “Thank you.”

Eris took that as the dismissal it was, getting back to his feet.

“Eris?” She reached out for the black sleeve of his embroidered jacket, holding it tightly.

He froze, waiting a moment before he asked, “Mother?”

“I love you very much.”

Eris thought he could feel something in him crack, thought he felt something inside him break. Eris didn’t remember the last time someone had told him that and he’d believed it. Eris wasn’t even sure if he believed it now. He leaned down, kissing her cheek as he mumbled, “Love you.”

She let go of his sleeve, nodding once. Eris glanced back to his mother one final time before he left the room. She’d gone back to staring at the wall, unmoving. Eris had never noticed how small she was, how the large skirts of her dress seemed to swallow her whole.

As soon as he’d shut the door behind him, Eris winnowed to the courtyard. It was cool out, the breeze slow and lazy.

In Autumn, funerals started right as the last rays of the sun were disappearing over the horizon, right at the start of the day’s death. The pyres would burn all night — until there was nothing left but ash. He’d have to speak to his father about lighting them, wanting to grant his mother’s wish.

He stood between the two pyres now. Someone had washed away the blood from their faces, had brushed their hair, had placed golden crowns on their heads. His mother was right, they did look at peace. If Eris didn’t know any better, he’d have thought his brothers were sleeping.

Eris looked closely at Cato. Lucien’s kill, a cruel sort of irony that Lucien had thrown one of Cato’s own knives at him. Eris remembered when Cato had been born. His father had put a heavy hand on his shoulder, leaned in close and had told him in a low voice that he was expendable. Eris had been sent to a war camp the next day. It was no surprise that they had resented each other, that they grew more bitter year by year. But Cato had warned him about Beron, and Eris was grateful.

Eris turned to face Owain. He’d been a hero in Autumn, born before the War and grown up to fight in it. Everywhere, people told tales of his victories in battle. It was almost impossible for Eris to believe what Maddox had told them all. Owain dropping his sword as Tamlin lunged at him didn’t seem like a mistake he would have made. Maddox had also made sure to tell Eris that Owain wouldn’t have killed Lucien, wouldn’t have let Cato do it either. For whatever reason, Eris believed it.

Eris awkwardly stood there, well aware that he couldn’t really mourn them, he barely knew them. Eris was certain about one thing — he should have been there, Eris would have been able to stop this from happening.

Eris felt ancient.

With a long sigh, he sat on the ground between his dead brothers. They’d been his greatest rivals, his strongest opponents. There was no other way in the Autumn Court. Eris made a promise to himself that when he became High Lord, he’d change it.

Cauldron, Eris thought, they were all so fucked up. He wondered when Beron had stopped pulling their strings, when the sharp words and harsh actions were no longer dictated by their father, when cruelty had become a part of them. He wondered when they had stopped seeing each other as brothers and started seeing each other as obstacles.

When Eris had been very young, he’d liked sneaking out of the Forest House. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t really go anywhere, but he sometimes found himself lying on the ground, staring up at the sky. He did the same thing now. Sprawled on his back, Eris stared up at the blue sky, noticing that there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. If anyone walked by and saw him on the cold, hard ground between his brothers’ funeral pyres, surely they would think he’d gone mad, but Eris didn’t care.

Eris figured this would be his last chance to say something to his brothers, but he was old, and he’d seen many die, and he felt as though the dead couldn’t hear him anyway. It occurred to Eris that he could apologize for never being there when they’d needed him, but Eris didn’t think apologies meant much if you weren’t forgiven. Eris took a deep breath, his chest aching, he couldn’t very well say nothing — it didn’t seem right.

His voice wavered as he said, “Cauldron save you,” words he remembered his mother speaking at the pyres of her dead sisters. “Mother hold you. Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey. Fear no evil. Feel no pain.” They’d felt enough while they’d been alive, Eris thought, Eris understood. He took a shaky breath as he whispered the last words of the short prayer, the wind carrying them. “Go, and enter eternity.”

[untcdstsofsmsh]

Midoriya always seemed fine. So, when he was found dead in his dorm room. Everyone was at a total loss. It had to be fake. There was no one the new holder of All for One could be gone just like that. There was no sign of force entry nor that he did it to himself. Izuku Midoriya had just simply passed away in his sleep.

It should’ve never happened.

He remembered the morning he found out, running breathless to the dorms, passed shocked, terrified, crying students and a few teachers who had made it before him. Passed Mic, Eraserhead, Lemillion, Nezu--

All Might had seen death. Despite all his efforts, he’d seen the pale, unmoving bodies of the dead and the telling stink that followed. How his skin and hair lost color and movement. How he laid too still.

He had to be carried out of the room. Apparently, Bakugo was there earlier, made to leave in much the same way.

Inko cried. She knew. Somehow, she knew. The second she entered the office, she looked like she was expecting the worst. Aizawa had to tell her, had to explain everything that they learned since Izuku’s body was picked up. How they don’t know what caused it, but that general trauma from hero training still held the risk of death in some students. Head trauma, extreme stress -- especially with this year -- and a small collection of other things could’ve killed the boy.

Aizawa speaks and he speaks very matter-of-factly, almost coldly.

How he could, Toshinori would never understand.

At the end of it all, Inko just looks at Toshinori, shoulders slumped, eyes red and puffy, lips quivering. The question behind her eyes shakes the veteran hero to his bones.

Why couldn’t you save him?

His cremation and funeral are held a few days later. All of the first years are there to pay respects, as well as a few teachers, older students, Eri...

Eri doesn’t stop crying for the whole service. Aizawa holds her tight to his chest in his suit, whispering how it wasn’t her fault, how she couldn’t have saved him, how she can’t save him now, he’s gone.

Toshinori can’t stand being near the memorial, turns to leave, tries to find somewhere he can be alone to grieve again--

Bakugo stands, leaning against the large doorway, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. Weak. His hair is barely styled at all, his suit worn properly but dirty from him lingering outside.

When Bakugo finally looks up at Toshi, that same question echoes in his eyes.

Why couldn’t you save him?

Toshi’s quick to leave the church.

The school closes for a week. The police insist on doing an investigation. The school encourages parents and guardians to give their children updated check ups, vaccines, everything they can to ensure their children are healthy.

Nezu tries to contact Toshinori. He refuses to answer his phone. Refuses to go back to the school grounds.

Instead, he rents a car.

He can’t drive.

He rents one, anyway.

Not being able to drive is half the point, after all.

Still, damn him, he manages to figure out just enough to drive to the underside of one of the smaller, lesser used bridges. Drive to it, under it and ram the box of fiber glass and rubber hard into a support beam.

He blacks out for a while. Just long enough to hear cursing. The door’s ripped open, there’s coughing -- the smell is terrible and he notes there’s no airbag smothering him -- and a familiar voice calls out for him.

“All Might! ALL MIGHT!”

Eraserhead scrambles to cut him free of the seatbelt, checking him over before wrapping his arms around Toshi’s long body. Despite the difference between them being just over a foot, Eraserhead manages to cradled Toshi’s head and spine while carrying him to the cleared ground.

He’s furious.

“What the FUCK did you think you were doing!?”

Toshi couldn’t wrap his head around it. Probably because of his own growing head trauma. Probably because he’s still stuck on how the underground hero found him. Probably, even more so, that he was stuck trying to read the hero’s expression beyond his anger.

Half the angry words don’t register. He’s mad. Mad Toshinori would try and take his life. How he couldn’t kill himself because his ‘favorite’ died. How he couldn’t do this shit and not expect it to impact the kids -- HIS. KIDS.

“I killed him.”

The words are just enough to stop the raging river of rambling.

“... What?” There’s a warning there. Whatever Toshinori would say next better not be some bullshit self-deprecation. It better make the most fucking sense out of everything he’s ever said or done, or else.

“I killed him.” The words nearly choke him the second time. Tears well up in his eyes. “I... I’m responsible for Midoriya Izuku’s death.”

“Idiot.” Barely restrained anger is spat out in just one word before Eraserhead wills himself to calm down. “He died from unknown causes. The best we have to go off of is stress from that’s happened this year. You couldn’t control any of that.”

“It’s stress from his quirk.”

That catches his attention. Toshi breathes deep and explains everything. Each question is answered simply. Every secret about his quirk -- the quirk he’d given to Midoriya -- is laid out for the boy’s teacher to know.

When everything is said and done, Aizawa sits there, dumbfounded and ignoring the distressed calls over the small radio at his hip. He turns down the volume of Present Mic yelling for confirmation of locations, sits down next to Toshinori and stares at the car wreckage.

“... He was a child.”

“They’re all children.” Toshi pushes himself up from the ground, reasonably sure that nothing vital was broken or punctured and... well, if it was, it still served his purposes. “We expect the same out of all of them. This one just took a different route.”

“You gave him a power no child could ever hoped to master,” he presses, standing to follow the tall, slouching man. “And now that he’s shown he couldn’t have handled it, you try and dismiss it?!”

“If you have such deeply held issues with what I’ve done, then leave. Pretend you didn’t find me.”

“And then what?” The snap in Aizawa’s voice is harsher than usual. “Let you wallow in your self pity as you try and off yourself again?”

“Let me be, Aizawa-san.”

“So you can run away from this?”

“There’s no USE for me, Aizawa!”

The shorter man stops, lips pressed tight as Toshi’s voice raises to a shout.

“I had... One fucking job. To protect that quirk. To pass it down to a hero worthy of it. To train and protect them until they had it mastered. I was it’s keeper for well over thirty years, and just when I thought I could say I’d done at least a half decent job at this one thing my life was set up to do, I lose them both. One for All, a quirk with no equal, and Young Midoriya...”

The closest thing to a son he’d ever have.

He breathes deep. It hurts to breathe. Hurts to move. The adrenaline from the crash starts to lessen and he can finally feel the headache, the familiar ache of his ribs, a growing pain in his leg and arm.

Aizawa moves to catch him as he finally buckles under the pain.

“I’m useless,” he continues on. “This life... it has nothing else to live for.”

“Idiot,” Aizawa hisses to him. “You have forty other students waiting for you, at least half a world full of fans who’d worry--”

“All of who wouldn’t forgive me for what I’d done to that boy.”

“God DAMMIT, ALL MIGHT.” Pale fists bundle into piles of clothing, calm facade broken again to show his growing anger. “Fuck your self-righteous pride for one god damn minute and think beyond yourself!”

Toshi can’t help but flinch. Between his growing headache, vulnerability and Aizawa’s diminishing patience, it’s hard to put on a brave face. It’s hard to want to.

What was the point anymore?

“The amount of god forsaken hubris,” he hisses, “it takes to think so highly of your bad decisions is mind boggling.” Aizawa breathes, his dark eyes burning into Toshinori’s skull. “To think, your stupidity and grief can absolve you from everything else you’ve committed yourself to. You’re not done here, not with students who need your guidance, not with people who look up to you. And if you can’t see the worth in a life where you’re still needed, then consider it fore-fitted to me.”

Aizawa leaves him on the ground to stand, Toshinori blinking up at him incredulously. “What?”

“Your life belongs to me, now.” The pale man breathes deep and slow before pulling out the radio at his side. “You don’t get to decide how it ends, anymore.”

Not giving the blond a chance to argue or protest, Aizawa turns to report their location. Within minutes (tense and quiet) an ambulance arrives and carries Toshinori to the nearest hospital.

He hates hospitals. It doesn’t matter, though, because Aizawa makes it clear his threat isn’t just for show and tells Recovery Girl to call him as soon as Toshi starts acting like a fool. She seems surprised, but doesn’t question it.

X-rays. Casts. Oxygen. More x-rays to make sure his already jumbled and incomplete organs were as good as they could hope to get. It was a horrible visit, punctuated by Gran Torino’s and Recovery Girl’s very quiet visits. All Might doesn’t speak when given their rare inquiries: what happened? How? When? Why? He doesn’t speak and he doesn’t stop their assumptions: they know enough to know what he’d say, don’t they?

Aizawa comes in like a force of nature, anger simmering just below the surface the second his eyes land on Toshinori. Then he raises a bag of food.

“You will eat, All Might.” The forcefulness of his voice is a little startling, but his motions to prepare his meal are slow and careful.

Their visits continued on like this for a while, either with Aizawa bringing food or him coming with the accompanying nurse sent to help him eat. His anger came and went, but was always quiet and blunt.

It continued when he arrived to school again, Aizawa not leaving his side for a minute or otherwise forcing him to follow the other around. Paperwork, meal breaks, lesson planning -- anything short of restroom breaks meant Aizawa was there.

“I meant it when I said your life was mine, now.”

Toshi couldn’t help feeling like he had just burdened Aizawa with another responsibility. An entire other life to have to guard for however long he could. A fool to guide out of self-destruction.

It would just have to be that way, for now...

[bnha-l0ver]

Narration #10

***DISCLAIMER: This is just going to serve as a compilation of the narration that has been done in the story so far (Chapter 1-216). Keep in mind, the story is pretty long now, so I’ll keep adding on. In other words, it’s a work in progress. Either way, enjoy!!!***

• [Gran Torino and Tsukauchi fight with Kurogiri]

> “In a certain mountain range, while Deku and co. were fighting...”

> “[Gran Torino] We were able to pinpoint your location. If we can just capture you, the most troublesome member of the League, the rest will surely follow.”

> “[Kurogiri] There have been rumors that a “ruffian” has been appearing here as of late...It seems I was standing out a tad too much, but I had no choice. I have some business with that ruffian you see.”

> “[AFO to Kurogiri] If by chance, something were to happen to me in the near future, you’ll be the only one left who can protect Tomura...You can rely on him.”

> “He [the ruffian] is one of AFO’s faithful servants, Giganto-machia.”

• [The following day of the infiltration and Nighteye’s death]

> “Senpai took a temporary leave of absence from school. And for us, we returned to school...”

> “When we returned, they had us go through a bunch of inquiries and processes. But we were eventually able to make it back to the dorms that night. Uraraka and the others had also been occupied in Ryukyu’s office.”

> “A few days later. Before we knew it, September came to a close and October began. The last vestiges of summer faded away and the temperature difference became more drastic. Our intern group, accompanied by All Might and Aizawa-senpai went to Nighteye’s funeral.”

> “At the end of the conversation between the school and the hero office, the internship was postponed for the time being. Nighteye’s office was taken over by his sidekick, Centipede, while awaiting Toogata-senpai’s return.”

> “And Eri-chan, finally regained consciousness though her psychological state is still unstable. Since it’s still unclear whether she might lose control again, Aizawa-sensei told me we weren’t allowed to have a face-to-face. Moreover, Eri-chan’s Quirk was found to originate from the horn on her forehead. That horn seemed to shrink along with her fever. Now, it has shrunk to just about the size of a lump.”

> “And as for me, ever since that day...something strange has been happening.”

• [Aoyama shoves a piece of cheese in Midoriya’s mouth xD]

> “Something strange, yes.”

> “His behavior left a strong impact, but, Aoyama-kun was a man whom I could never read. Until he finally started to reveal his true nature.”

(N/ To be completely honest...I don’t think anyone can read or even know what Aoyama will do/is capable of xD)

> “I haven’t really talked with Aoyama-kun before. He’s not the type of person who actively gets involved with people. He gives off the impression...of a free spirit who speaks what he wants, when he wants. But, his behavior at the training camp and at the provisional license exam (Iida-kun said, overflowing with emotion)...is certainly that of a hero’s. What does that guy want with me...?”

> “Is there some kind of situation...? If that’s the case...maybe it’s something he can’t have with the rest of the class, and doesn’t want to risk making a big fuss about.”

> “Since then, Aoyama-kun and I became good friends.”

• [It’s finally been announced that the cultural festival will be taking place in a month, so all the students better prepare. Briefly introduced to Gentle and La Brava]

> “All Might.”

> “Brave.”

> “Crimison Riot.”

> “Between the Age of Vigilantes and the present day, individuals known as “heroes” have shined brightly in our history.”

> “The ruler of the legends, All for One, the leader of the “Special Abilities Liberation Army,” Destro, and the uncanny thief, Oji Harima. Likewise, others known as “villains” have also carved their names into history.”

• [Class 1-A has decided what to do for the festival. They are practicing hard every day, and during the middle of practice, Eri and Mirio drop by]

> “Today is Saturday.”

> “Yup! In other words, it’s our day off!! Kacchan and his group’s temporary license course is also on break this week...”

> “This afternoon, each team is in the midst of practice!”

• [After walking around with Mirio and Eri, Midoriya returns to the dorms to find out he has been “fired”]

> “This was the way practice and meetings were held after class. Until the actual event, I couldn’t find any free time. Hence, my training was—...”

(N/ In case anyone forgot, Midoriya being “fired” just meant he wouldn’t be dancing the whole set with the group. Instead he would be dancing part of the routine, and then help out the staging team. On top of that, he went to training at 6AM)

• [Introduced more in depth to Gentle and La Brava. Some backstory as to how they met is provided, along with details of their plan to infiltrate U.A.]

> “At last, tomorrow is the cultural festival! The real deal! And all that’s left is—a good night’s rest...before the cultural festival begins at 9 o’clock in the morning.”

> “And then...on the day of the cultural festival.”

• [Hatsume comes during Midoriya’s training to deliver the support item he asked for. With that break, Midoriya, having hours until the festival begins, takes the chance to leave to buy a new rope and other supplies. As he is running back to U.A., he meets Gentle and La Brava]

> “Please...Please stop this!”

> “Don’t you lay a hand on U.A.!”

• [In an attempt to stop their plan, Midoriya fights with Gentle, leaving him with 15 minutes before the start of the festival. La Brava narrates as she watches, reminiscing the past]

> “[La Brava] His [Gentle] hopes have been dashed...!!”

> “Gentle...!!!”

> “In the first year of junior high, right after summer break...I was made fun of by the person who I just built up the courage to write a love letter to.”

> “After that, I became someone who couldn’t believe in anything. I had no purpose, and would simply whittle away my days in front of my computer. I kept wondering if I should just say goodbye to this life...”

> “That was when we met. The light that is you...”

> “Gentle Criminal...you accepted me without any hesitation.”

> “Gentle!! My Gentle!”

(N/ Before I mentioned I’d use pink for the parent’s narration only, and purple who be for villains. However, Gentle and La Brava are not hardcore villains like the League of Villains, so I decided to make them pink instead....Such tough decisions -~-‘’)

• [Their fight has concluded, with Midoriya the victor. In a last attempt to save La Brava, Gentle makes Midoriya fly away and surrenders to Hound Dog and Ectoplasm. Thanks to this, the festival is able to continue]

> “What Gentle Criminal wanted to do...I somehow understand now.”

> “Gentle Criminal, you were a tough opponent. “Born out of the despair of hero dropouts.” I finally understand why our fight was so tough. Because I, too, was probably the same.”

> “Beacuse Gentle and I held similar sentiments. He fough for La Brava’s sake. And I...I fought...to see your smile.”

[lovemesomesurveys]

Did you talk to anybody taller than you today?: Everyone, besides small children, are taller than me. Have you seen “A Cinderella Story” w/ Hillary Duff and Chad Michael Murray?: Yep, many times. What is your favorite brand of chap stick?: ESO or EOS I always forget the order, but yeah that one. Have you ever been to New Brunswick in the summer?: Nope. I’ve never been there at all. Have you ever been to Florida in the spring?: I’ve never been there at all either.

Have you ever been to Vancouver in the winter?: ^^^^^ Have you ever been to Boston in the fall?: ^^^^^ Have you ever been to St. Louis or St. Paul?: Nope. Have you ever been to both in the same 11-day period?: Have you ever driven down a red dirt road?: No.

Do you think horses could run faster on the road or through fields?: Fields, probably. Why do you feel this way?: I just do. Is it past 6 AM?: No, it’s 12:27AM. Is it past 6 PM?: Yes. Are you wearing shoes?: No. Describe the worst time you’ve ever been shocked.: Hmm. I don’t know what I’d say was the worst time. Have you ever been shocked when a cashier was handing you change?: Yes. Have you ever had spicy sweet chilli doritos?: I have. What’s the longest song title you can think of?: Just about any one of Fallout Boy’s songs. And the shortest?: Freebird. Have you ever went to sleep after the sun came up?: Many times. Were you scared of Y2K?: Yeah, even though I was pretty young. Are you scared of Y2K12?: Nothing came of that either. LOL, can you type 2012 in roman numerals?: No. Which button on your cell phone did you last press?: I It was probably the home button. Who did you last call?: My mom.

How long was the conversation?: Just a few minutes. Do you enjoy stepping on ants?: No. What state is nearest to you?: Arizona. What city larger than yours is nearest to you?: Los Angeles.

What country is nearest to you?: Mexico.

What town smaller than yours is nearest to you?: Hmm.

Does the color purple remind of you of anything or anyone?: It’s my mom’s favorite color. Also, Prince’s song “Purple Rain” and the movie, “The Color Purple.”

Did you talk to your bf/gf last night?: Single.

Can you honestly tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi?: Yes.

Do you wish Pepsi never existed?: I don’t care that it does. I just think Coke is better.

Do you think love is the most beautiful thing in the world?: Sure.

What do you want thrown at your wedding?: You assume that I will get married. Or that I even want to.

Do you plan on getting married in the near future?: Noooo.

Have you ever been to: Timbuktu, Mali: Alberquerque, NM: Avondale, AZ: Evansville, IN: Evansville, IL: St. Petersburg, FL: Richmond, VA: Vancouver, BC: Chihuahua, Chihuahua: Memphis, Tennessee: Portland, ME: Portland, OR: Springfield, PA: Indiana, PA: Eerie, PA: Eerie, IN: Lake Erie: The Pacific Ocean: The Indian Ocean: India: South Africa: Peoria, AZ: Peoria, IL: Flagstaff, AZ: Huntington Beach, CA: West Hollywood, CA: New York, New York: Toronto, ON: Henderson, NV: Henderson, KY: Indonesia: Dubai, UAE: Cincinatti, OH: Newport, KY: Newport Beach, VA: Virginia Beach, VA: Washington, D.C.: Puerto Rico: The largest city in your state/province/etc: The largest city in your country: The largest city on your continent: The largest city in the world (Tokyo): The largest city in your county/parish/etc: The largest city in every state/province/territory/etc boarding yours: The largest city in every country boarding yours: The largest city on every continent: Nunavut: Spain: Dawson City, YK: Dawson Creek, BC: Do you eat quiche?: It’s been years, but yeah I like it.

Do you eat Butterfingers weekly?: Uh no. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I had one.

Do you read the newspaper more often than once every 2 weeks?: I don’t read the newspaper, I read the news online or watch it on TV.

With what color toothbrush did you last brush your teeth?: White and blue.

Do you bathe your dog?: Not me personally, but yes we do.

Does it have a collar?: Yes she does. She has a cute collar and ID tag.

How long were you last sleeping?: I took a 2 hour nap yesterday. I haven’t slept since then, yet. I’m really tired, though.

Have you ever played “Dungeon Explorer: Warrios of Ancient Arts”?: No.

What brand PS2 controller do you think is best?: I don’t know anything about that stuff.

Do you like Keith Urban?: I like a song or two.

Have you ever been to urbandictionary.com?: Yeah.

Do you have a porch swing?: We don’t even have a porch.

Is that a good thing?: I don’t see why it would be a good or bad thing if we did.

When did you last feed goldfish (whether they were yours or not)?: Not since my own when I was a kid. What is the last sweet thing you ate?: The strawberry milkshake I had.

Spicy?: I can’t have spicy food anymore. :(

Salty?: The soy sauce I dipped pot stickers in yesterday.

What is the last dream you remember having?: Something random and weird as usual.

Do you know anybody whose language you speak better than they do English?: No.

What’s your favorite pokemon?: I liked Jigglypuff.

What’s your favorite pokemon game?: Never played any of them.

Is anything good on TV right now?: I doubt it seeing how it’s almost 1AM.

Have you ever worn a blue hat?: Possibly.

What about a sweater and a sweat shirt at the same time?: No. I’ve worn a hoodie and a jacket or a sweatshirt and a jacket at the same time, though.

What’s your area code?: Nah.

How many area codes would you recognize?: Not many.

Do you know where sponges grow?: In the ocean.

Have you ever read “Where the Red Fern Grows”?: Yeah, in 5th grade.

Who is the author?: I don’t recall.

Do you like suspensful books?: Yes.

What about scary ones?: I like mystery and psychological thrillers.

Can you name every hamster you’ve ever had?: I had two when I was a kid, but I don’t recall their names.

What’s the last building you were in that had more than 4 floors?: Not sure.

How far away is it from your house?:

Did you drive there?:

Have you ever driven to Utah? No. Have you ever been to OK, TX, NM, and AZ in one day?: No.

Do you like road trips?: Depends.

Isn’t it awkward when someone mentions they just lost a loved one?: Only because I never want to say. There’s nothing you can really say. I’m also not good with comforting others.

How do you react?: I express my condolences but other than that I’m just like awkwardly there not knowing what to do or say.

Have you ever been to a funeral and everyone else seemed more sad than you?: It wasn’t something I paid attention to. There wasn’t like a who’s sadder than who thing going on. It was just a sad, rough day for everyone.

Do you even like scary movies?: Some.

Do you have a bus pass?: Nope. No need for one.

Do you take a bus daily?: I don’t take the bus at all anymore. I used to have to sometimes while I was still in school, but those days are over.

Do you know anyone named Roger?: No.

Is he older or younger than you?:

What’s the age difference in the youngest and oldest people you’ve dated?: One year.

If I told you that answer was 8 years for me, would you believe it?: I don’t have a reason not to.

Do you answer your own surveys?: I don’t make any.

Do you like go-gurt?: Wow, I haven’t had one in yearssss. I liked the strawberry banana ones.

Have you ever eaten something, and the food stayed on your hands forever?: No...

Is that worse or better than it staying on your breath?: I’ve never had that problem.

What did you last drink that was brown?: Diet Coke.

When did you last deficate?: Ew why do you wanna know that.

When did you last suffocate?: Never.

When did you last relocate?: As in moved to another house or something? Five years ago.

When did you last perspirate?: It’s freakin’ hot here, so it’s not such a rare occurrence. Ugh, I hate summer.

Who did you last irritate?: My family, I’m sure.

Who (or what) did you last imitate?: I don’t know.

What (if anything) did you last irrigate?: Not sure.

Do you think it’s annoying or cool when I rhyme questions like that?: I didn’t care, sorry.

Do you watch pro wrestling?: Nope.

Why or why not?: Not my thing.

What are your plans for the next March 11?: Uh I have no idea. That’s a long ways away.

How many days do you think it snowed where you live in the last 365 days?: It doesn’t snow in my city, unfortunately.

Is your birthday less than 8 months from now?: Yeah, it’s next month.

Will you wake me up when September ends?: Nah I’ll probably forget cause I’ll be asleep, too.

I have been to 28 US states. Am I beating you?: Yep, by a long shot.

Do you like yarn?: I don’t have anything against it.

Do you enjoy my geography questions?: They’re whatever. It’d be more interesting if I actually traveled.

What is the last thing you used a brush on?: My hair.

Who was your best friend from your high school while you were there?: Amanda.

Do you have any pants you’d be embarassed for your friends to know about?: No.

When did you last stand up?: Never.

Did I just make you realize how long you’ve been doing this survey?: Nope.

Have you ever shopped for 2 hours at Dollar General?: No.

Do you think that’s crazy that I witnessed someone do that today?: I don’t care lol.

Have you ever dated a teenager?: When I myself was one as well, yes.

Were you popular in high school?: Hahah nope. That was perfectly fine with me, though.

Does your city have a Poplar Street?: I think it does.

Do you know what a poplar is?: Yes.

Do you like lemons?: No.

What color are your eyes?: Dark brown.

Got any plans for July 24, 2009?: Well we’re in 2018 now and I have no idea what I did on that day 9 years ago. This July 24th I don’t have any plans as of now, but that’s 4 days away from my birthday.

What about July 24, 2012?: I don’t know, man.

Or do you think minimum wage doesn’t need to be $9.65?: It’s $11 here, I believe.

Do you think the raise in minimum wage is partly why our economy is ruined?: Not getting into that right now.

Did you watch your favorite television show today?: One of.

Did you listen to your favorite song today?: I haven’t listened to any music so far today.

Did you play your favorite video game today?: I’ll be playing The Sims 4 soon.

I don’t know how many pairs of shoes I own! Do you?: Like 6.

I have about 4. Do you have them organized?: They’re just in my closet.

So when did you last go to the zoo?: A couple years ago.

Have you ever filmed a movie?: For a class project in high school. A very, very crappy one.

In the zoo?: Filmed a movie in the zoo? No.

Who is your favorite teacher from high school?: I had a history teacher my sophomore year named Mr. Coffey who was really cool.

What’s under your bed?: Nothing.

Do you think money should be green?: I’m used to that.

Do you have children?: Noooo.

How much did you pay for your last meal?: Like 5 or 6 bucks, I think.

What’s the longest period of time you’ve had a goldfish?: I had fish for a few years as a kid.

Would you rather go bowling in the spring or summer?: I don’t care to go at all, but why would the season matter for something like that?

Do you like lazar tag?: Never been.

What about miniature golf?: Never been.

Have you ever been to a casino in Canada?: Nope.

Have you ever been to Bear Lake in Saskatchewan?: No.

Do you have any t-shirts you’ve owned for 7 ½ years that still fit you?: How specific, but yes. Some older than that.

Do you know how it feels to be heartbroken?: I do.

Is your house currently on fire?: Uh, no. I wouldn’t just be here chillin’ taking this survey... Do you like ramen noodles?: Yep.

How far away is the nearest fire station?: Pretty close by.

Is your dog a real barker?: Nah. She barks if someone knocks, sometimes when she’s in a playful mood, or when she wants something. It’s not excessive. Our neighbor’s dogs on the other hand....

Could you see yourself with short hair?: I had short hair for years.

Can bad hair alone make someone unattractive?: I hate when my hair looks really bad, which it always does now. Have you ever eaten bad spinach?: I don’t believe so.

Have you ever had banana nut cheerios?: No.

How do you know how to spell Mississippi?: I just do.