When you start to stir this morning, you cant help but wonder if you’re having a particularly odd dream, the stats hovering behind your eyelids, making that the only real conclusion. Opening your eyes and blinking a few times, you frown in confusion. Hanging before you in the air, are the same set of stats you could see with your eyes closed. They seem to be gaming stats of some sort, something that confuses you since, whilst you enjoy them, you rarely get the time to play them anymore, so you generally don’t dream about them. Sitting up in bed, you find the stats following you easily, somehow not obscuring your vision. You’re still convinced this might be some kind of weird dream, despite the cold slowly seeping into your feet, now that they are touching the floor. With a sigh, you try to pay attention to the stats again, deciding that you may as well fuck around with them, since its just a dream.
Over the course of the morning, you mess with all of your stats, finding you can move them around with a brief thought. To your surprise, and delight, they seem to work, but as the day wears on, you start to realise that this might not be a dream after all.
As you sit there, absently using your increased strength to open that jar you’ve been trying to crack into all week, you contemplate what this might mean for you. Is it permanent? How far reaching can you make this? What will you do with this kind of power? Already you’ve used your charisma to convince the crabby old landlord to give you a few more days to pay rent, a usually impossible task. You’ve used your luck and found a hundred dollars stuck in a hedge outside, and you used your intelligence stats to finish the essay that you had been stuck on all week, because you forgot all the subject matter. Luckily, no one else seems to see the small window of stats. You even figured out how to make the little window fold away to one side, almost invisible, if you weren’t already aware it was there.
A soft hiss of air interrupts your thoughts, the jar opening with surprising ease. Suddenly, your stats glow brightly the numbers increasing on each and the small letters above the stats finally draw your eyes up,something you hadn’t really paid attention to until now. You watch as the simple “Level: 1″ slowly shifts to “Level: 2″, and it dawns on you that this might just be the beginning.
I’m stronger than I was back when I fought with you, y’know! | 202
alright man just listen it came to me in a dream and I just-
Joining in on that ship dynamics meme hehe
text from Monoma: i’m gonna be like 30 mins late, sorry
Shinsou: [forgot they were even meeting, still in bed, barely awake] you always do this
His first time trying street fair food [CTC]
“(she) could not help observing…how frequently (his) eyes were fixed on her…
She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a man;…
and yet that he should look at her because he disliked her, was still more strange.
She could only imagine…that she drew his notice because there was something more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in any other person present…”
–Austen, Pride and Prejudice.
headcanons of adult kirishima with long or short hair are a blessing
but pls consider: mullet
also bonus:
What people think writing is like: careful planning and thought out plotlines
What writing is actually like: being possessed by an idea that you are constantly arguing with
“Pet crows give their owners names. This is identified by a unique sound they make around specific people that they would not otherwise make.“
oh my GOD