#secondarily how did my mother see it. her work is not that close to the absolute center id argue it’s on the wrong side of the river even

[alpinelogy]

Why did my mother just send me a photo of a tram with the Red Bull car on it. Why is it in my parents city. What the fuck

[cheapsweets]

The Abominable Dulyamra

My response to this week’s BestiaryPosting challenge, from @maniculum

Pencil sketch, then lines in Sailor fude nib fountain pen, using Diamine Sepia ink.

Thought process under the cut…

"Dulyamras are called [redacted] in Latin because [explanation redacted]. Dulyamras are keenly aware of the elements; they rejoice when the moon is new and are sad when it wanes. A characteristic of the Dulyamra is that when a mother bears twins, she loves one and despises the other. If it ever happens that she is pursued by hunters, she carries the one she loves before her in her arms and the one she detests on her shoulders. But when she is tired of going upright, she deliberately drops the one she loves and reluctantly carries the one she hates. The Dulyamra does not have a tail. Although every part of the Dulyamra is foul, its rear parts are disgusting and horrid enough. The name [redacted, cognate with previous redaction] is Greek, meaning, [completely different explanation redacted] Hence we call the Dulyamra [redacted] because they have compressed nostrils and a hideous face, its creases foully expanding and contracting like a bellows."

Okay, so for starters this definitely feels like a Beast rather than any other type of animal; we have an indication of live birth for starters, which is generally a good indication. We also know it can walk bipedally or quadrupedally, which also narrows it down a bit… Now, I have an inkling what this prompt might be, so I went in a slightly different direction and figured I would go with a bear (or at least bear-like creature)…

Also, the writer of this entry really isn't keen on this beast; it's "foul", "disguisting", "hideous" and "horrid"… how rude! How to reflect this? I figured I'd make it mostly hairless for starters - patchy hair on its upper limbs, and a hairy chest and belly (mostly because it made it a bit easier to draw, and read more as a beast that a weird person…! As an aside, I still need more practice drawing fur/hair with a pen, I may need to do some research…).

Not quite sure what kind of environment the Dulyamra lives in, but of it is a warm environment, I wonder if it wades into water, and the wet fur on its belly keeps it cool?

For the face, I figured giving it inflatable cheek pouches (for display, most likely) would cover the 'expanding and contracting like a bellows' - you can see them inflated in the close up sketch of the head, and creased and folded in the other drawings. I wasn't quite sure how to interpret the 'compressed nostrils', so I gave it quite thin nostrils, and slightly loose, creased skin on its snout. I imagine meeting a Dulyamra on the night of a new moon would be somewhat terrifying…

As for its rear parts, no tail and utterly horrid? I figured that bears have small tails anyway, so this beast may have secondarily lost it. Why is the rear so horrid? Good question, but I figured I'd reflect that by taking some inspiration from broad fat tailed sheep, and assume that it stores most of its fat reserves on its buttocks. Depending on where in the world the Dulyamras live, it may or may not hibernate, but if it does, it's going to need those reserves, so I figured giving it a large, slightly wrinkly posterior could work. Did I just draw a semi-naked bear with a fat butt? Yup!

I originally drew the side-on full body sketch on its own after the head close up and the standing picture, before realising that I'd missed the opportunity to add in baby animals (which were specifically mentioned in the description, no less!) so I did go back and add them in!

[shoutogepi]

A Million Times Over, part 1

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 11.3k holy shit this is so long guys. fuck.

[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : some NSFW themes but no actual smut. a lot of pining and angst. some cute moments too tho!

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Originally I intended for this to just be a long fic… but even for my standards, this would be wayyy too long to be just in one post. I decided to split the fic into three instead, so this will be the first part of my very first multi-chap series, A Million Times Over, for my beloved Sho <3

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : big thank you to my sweet friend @todoscript​ for beta-reading this for me and hyping me up!! love you, can’t wait to read what you have in the works soon <3

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─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

“.../n”

…

“.. y/n…”

…

🅃he buzzing noise in your ears sharpened. White light snuck between your eyelids and you groaned, fingers reaching toward your temple. Confusion burst forth as you recognized foreign, plastic tubing connected to your skin, your eyes opening wider as you began to register your surroundings.

You were in a hospital room. To be more exact, you were in the bed in the middle of the hospital room— meaning, you were the patient. The realization shocked you, and you jolted upright abruptly, suddenly all too aware of the tubes stuck up your nose. At your sudden movement, large, warm hands landed on your arms and rubbed at your skin gently, making your attention turn to the person sitting at your bedside.

“Y/n? Hey, you’re okay, love, it's alright. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” His voice was smooth and deep, an anchor for you to grab onto in the midst of your confusion.

You were gawking, staring straight at him— you couldn't help it. Your jaw was probably hanging open, gaping like a fish at the man before you. What were you in the hospital for exactly— had you gone insane and dreamed this situation up?

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“Sh-Shouto Todoroki,” you mumbled, gaze connected with his tired but bright, heterochromatic orbs. His brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly at your courteous acknowledgement, but he brushed it aside and smiled at you instead.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you took in his form beside you. He was tall— you could tell even though he was seated— and he was more handsome than you’d ever imagined, somewhere in his mid-to-late twenties judging by the sharp, masculine features of his face.

“Y/n…,” he breathed out, a large, calloused hand coming up to cup your jaw. Then he pulled you into a hug, his strong, muscular arms wrapping around your torso and cradling the back of your head to press you into his chest. He smelled of clean laundry and winter, a crisp, fresh scent that made an unknown comfort blossom in your chest.

Slowly you placed an arm around his neck, your other hand laying limp on the sheets as it was still connected to the IV. You rubbed his back slightly, still dazed by your apparent situation. Looking outside the open window in the corner of the room, you realized it was daytime; yellow sunlight beaming into the room and pouring onto the tiled floor. There were vases of flowers all around the room, as well as stuffed animals, cards, and balloons that all wished for your health and speedy recovery.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Shouto whispered into your shoulder, still holding you tight in his embrace. His voice was still low, but this time it shook with profound emotion. “I missed you… so much.”

Your body felt relaxed in his arms, even though your brain was whirring a thousand miles a minute. You had no clue how you’d ended up in the hospital, who sent you all these gifts, where you even were geographically, and most importantly, why Shouto Todoroki was holding onto you like you meant the world to him. You patted his back stiffly and he let go of you just enough to move his face in front of yours. His eyes held such love and relief, the emotions as clear as day that butterflies ruptured from your stomach. As if his expression wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, he leaned forward and captured your lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a firm but sweet kiss.

It only lasted for a minute, but it was enough to have your heart rate monitor start beeping rapidly, noisily chiming at the other side of your bed. His face was so perfect and smooth up close— you couldn’t close your eyes as you took in his astonishing beauty. Sure, you’d imagined he would be perfect… but in person, here before you, he was indescribable. The man of your dreams. And a good kisser, too.

A nurse rushed into the room, seemingly out of breath. When she caught sight of the two of you, your lips locked, and Shouto holding you so tenderly, she let out an awkward cough and pawed at her scrubs, averting her eyes as she approached your bedside. Shouto pulled away, only to plant a soft kiss on the very tip of your nose before leaning back into his seat. He had a wide smile on his lips, content-crinkled eyes settled on you as his hand enveloped yours.

“So you’re awake!” the nurse stated excitedly, busying around with the beeping machine, managing to shut the blasted thing off. “How are you feeling? Any pain, discomfort?”

You glanced at Shouto, who smiled at you warmly and squeezed your hand. If that heart rate machine was still on, surely it would be going haywire again. “Uhh, I think I’m okay… just kinda groggy,” you replied truthfully, your voice coming out hoarse. You cleared your throat and she handed you a small cup of water, which you took gratefully. You continued on after taking a few sips, the liquid cooling your irritated throat. “No pain, but I’m a little… confused, to be honest.”

“I’m sure you are, hon,” the nurse said, giving you a smile full of understanding. It made you feel a little less on edge, and you gave her a half-hearted smile back. “You were in a bad accident almost a month ago. You suffered some head trauma, and you’ve been in a coma ever since. You also had two bruised ribs, and some minor surface wounds. The cuts are all gone now, and your ribs should be almost all healed by now as well, but if you have any discomfort on your left side here,” she gestured to your ribs and continued, “just let me know. I’ll page your doctor and we’ll do a quick check-up on you in just a minute!”

You nodded slowly, the gears turning in your head. You were in an accident, and then a coma for a whole month? It all seemed so crazy to you— you can’t remember a single thing leading up to your supposed accident. Head trauma… you weren’t usually the type to get hurt, and you’d never been in a coma before. “Umm… what kind of accident was it?” you asked, looking between Shouto and the nurse, not really directing the question to either of them specifically.

“You were flung into a cement pillar during a fight, love. The blow was mostly on your side, hence your bruised ribs… but your head smacked into the pillar secondarily,” Shouto replied, his smile disappearing as an unfamiliar bitterness washed over his handsome face. “We were battling together and you were knocked unconscious instantly… you’ve been asleep ever since.”

“A fight..?” you frowned, tilting your head in confusion. “We were fighting, and you threw me against a… cement pillar?”

Shouto looked horrified at your misunderstanding, adamantly shaking his head and making his soft, two-toned hair shine in the sunlight. “No, I would never hurt you— the villain did, baby. I incapacitated them right after,” he paused, eyes casting downwards and his free hand forming into a fist at the memory, “but the damage had already been done...”

That sounded right… your job was herowork, you could at least recall that. But you didn’t think you’d ever fought beside a hero as great and renowned as Japan’s famed dual-tempered Shouto. Sure, you’d been doing your best to climb the American hero leaderboard, but you weren’t by any means at the top yet. “Umm… can you tell me.. why we were fighting a villain together, exactly?”

Shouto looked directly at you, his brow furrowing before he looked to the nurse on the other side of your bed. They shared a look, and you shuffled uncomfortably in the cotton sheets pulled up to your waist, unease sitting like a rock in your stomach.

“Y/N, can you tell me what you remember before the accident?” Shouto asked slowly, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. There was a sliver of something else in his voice now, a hint of urgency in his request.

You looked between him and the nurse hesitantly, racking your brain for anything you could think of. “Uhh… I don’t… I don’t remember, I— I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright hon, don’t worry. It’s common to have some confusion after just waking up from a coma. We can try an easier question. Let’s see… do you know your birthday?”

You responded instantly, and there was the tiniest amount of relief on Shouto’s face at your correct response.

“Your mother’s maiden name?”

You got that one right too, Shouto’s thumb rubbing over your knuckles soothingly in silent praise.

“How about your phone number?”

You took a second to think of it, but you answered that one too. The nurse looked over at Shouto to see his reaction, and so did you. But Shouto was frowning at you, making dread drip into your veins. “That’s your US number, love… what’s your Japanese number?”

You looked at him incredulously. “My Japanese number? Why would I need a Japanese number?” you inquired, thinking this must have been some kind of trick question.

The nurse and Shouto shared a more serious look, and Shouto swallowed as he looked away from you, turning toward the window instead. You squeezed at his hand but he didn’t respond, so you turned to the nurse instead, confused now more than ever.

“I don’t understand…,” you mumbled, hoping for some clarification from her. She smiled at you, but this time it did not reach her eyes.

“You’re in Japan, hon. You’re speaking Japanese right now… and you’re also one of the top heroes in Japan, just like your boyfriend here.”

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The next few days passed by in a blur. The hospital staff was all very kind and hospitable, but it still felt like you had woken up in the middle of someone else’s life. Even though your body was yours, and you looked just the same, you couldn’t help the unease that lingered from your imposter syndrome.

You had gone through so many tests and check-ups that they all blended together at this point. You had been poked, prodded, and quizzed the entire time since you’d woken up from your coma. There were so many different tests regarding your memory that your brain felt like melted jelly by now, and your frustration was at an all-time high.

Shouto had gotten up and left the room shortly after the nurse informed you of your situation. Your heart felt heavy for him— he seemed so excited, so relieved that you were finally awake— and this was the devastating reality that he was left to face. After patiently waiting at your bedside for weeks, this was the bitter pill he had to swallow when you had finally come-to… you imagined that he was not eager to confront such a terrible twist of fate. Yet he had come back into your room half an hour later, eyes suspiciously puffy and pink, and his nose a little stuffy, but nonetheless, he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, squeezing even tighter than before. Even though you barely knew him, his presence made you feel safe, and you were glad to have him by your side.

Between your numerous mental tests and check-ins, the conversation between the two of you was surprisingly easy. He was patient with you, and kind. Apparently, you’d first met him in America at a hero convention about five years ago, and you started dating after a year and a half of being friends. Your memory had been completely wiped of the past five years, leaving your Japanese friends, coworkers, and dedicated boyfriend all in the dark. According to Shouto, you had befriended many of the top heroes in Japan, seeing as they were also your colleagues. It turned out that the numerous flower arrangements scattered about your room were from these heroes, as well as fans… though a good amount were from the heterochromatic man himself.

Shouto took care of you during your days at the hospital. He talked to the doctor after your check-ins, pulling them aside and conversing in hushed voices in the hallway just outside your door. He called your family for you and flew them out, only adding to the chaos in your hospital room. He told all of your Japanese friends and acquaintances to stay away for now, knowing that meeting them would probably just overwhelm and guilt you. And each day he would bring you a treat that you would inevitably love, proving to you that he really did know you, and that he knew your preferences and even your favorite boba order. He probably would have stayed by your bedside even through each night, but you insisted he go home and sleep in a proper bed. You already felt bad enough that he was taking a hiatus from hero work until you recovered… you didn’t need to add his future back issues to your already guilty conscience.

You found yourself enjoying your time with him. You knew who he was— you had certainly heard of him during your previous hero work that you actually remembered. You kept it to yourself that you had harbored an embarrassingly large crush on him, though. You figured he probably knew that, seeing as he was your boyfriend of three and a half years… no need to bring it up! But now that your memory had reverted back to your mental state five years ago… you inevitably had feelings for the pro hero, and you weren’t sure if he either couldn’t tell how he affected you, or if he was just being polite. Whatever the case, there was still a spark between the two of you. Even though all the progress of your relationship had been erased on your side, each day your feelings only grew for the selfless, charming, and witty half-and-half man. So much so, that you would now reach out for his hand when he would enter your room each morning, and he would smile at you and slip his fingers between yours, no matter how much it hurt to restrain himself from showing you more affection.

After about a week, you were cleared to go home. Your nurse, who you had come to know as Akari, told you that the doctor had originally wanted to keep you for longer… but that Shouto was such a doting beau that they had given you the express go-ahead, knowing you would be in the highest of care.

Your memory was still not restored, though you had started to remember odd things here and there. Like how to use your phone— it was the newest model and far from the technology you were familiar with five years ago, but you opened the device and navigated it expertly on your first go. The doctor said that that was a good sign, though it could just be muscle memory... but Shouto still gave you a small smile of encouragement. Next was when you had asked Shouto to bring you your favorite moisturizer, a Japanese brand, and you just mentioned it so casually in conversation that you would have blown right over it had Shouto not pointed it out to you. You were recalling little, mundane things here and there, but never anything big— no people, no places. No distinct memories.

Akari assured you many times that as long as you kept working at it, your memories would return. She always said it when you were frustrated— she could tell your moods and she could see how hard you were trying. But she also said it when you were doing fine, and that was when you knew she was saying it more to Shouto than anything. You were glad to have her there, because even though Shouto was there for you physically, he kept most of his emotions sealed off from you… and it was hard for you to read him. Akari was an excellent nurse, and you felt blessed to have been taken care of by her. But a tiny, minuscule part of you was jealous that she could tell how he was feeling, while you were left in the dark.

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You sighed as the car door clicked shut, feeling apprehensive. The vehicle that Shouto had driven to the hospital today is sleek, shiny, and foreign. You had no clue what model it was, but you knew it must have been expensive— the interior was framed with a polished wood that complimented the peanut-butter color of the leather seats and steering wheel. Shouto slipped into the drivers’ side next to you, offering you a small smile as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, pausing before he turned the ignition. The car purred to life, a welcome screen popping up in the middle of the console.

You thought it over for a moment before answering, watching as he slid the parking ticket out from under the overhead visor. “A little… I think excited is a better word for it, though.”

Shouto’s smile broadened just a tad, his hand reaching over the center console and squeezing yours briefly. “Me too,” he murmured, eyes locked with yours for just a moment too long before his arm propped back against the corner of your seat, and he reversed out of the parking spot. You couldn’t help but admire his chiseled jawline as he did so, eyes flitting away quickly when he caught your lingering gaze.

The drive from the hospital to your home wasn’t long, and you were thankful that was the case— you’d have definitely felt even guiltier if he’d been driving for a long time all these days to come and see you. The city distracted you along the way, bustling and bright as ever, and your eyes were wide with wonder as you took in the colorful displays littering the streets and storefronts. Everything— everyone just seemed so alive; it was impossible to keep the smile from your face.

At one red light in particular, you saw a cat cafe, zoning in on a particularly pudgy cat snoozing at the top of the cat tree in the window. You giggled and pointed it out to Shouto, glancing over at him to see if he was looking, and the softest smile was on his lips as his eyes gazed deeply into yours. You held his stare for a moment and then looked away again, flustered and your cheeks feeling warm as you cleared your throat.

It was then that you noticed his hand lying atop the center of the console, tempting you to reach out and lace your fingers with his, like you had done so many times at the hospital. But it felt different without the safety of the white walls and medical equipment you had grown to know, somehow scarier— like he might reject you for whatever reason. You chose to keep your hands to yourself for now.

“It seems like you’re curious about the city,” he said as silence settled between the pair of you, the only noise in the cabin of the vehicle being the low melody from the radio.

You shrugged and hummed in agreement, eyes now glued to the other side of the window as countless people and businesses whizz by. “I like to know the city I’m protecting,” you answered, leaning back against the headrest. “It makes me feel more connected to the people that live here… the people we’re helping when we do our jobs. Y’know?”

Shouto nodded, humming his own agreement. “Yeah… I know what you mean,” he replied. After a short pause, he turned to you, waiting for another red light to turn green. “Maybe we can come out in disguise sometime… if that would interest you. I can show you around, we can have a little adventure.”

You visibly perked up at his suggestion, your grin making his heart flutter suddenly in his chest. “Yes! I would love that!” you beamed at him and he smiled back at you, the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks.

You bit your lip as he turned back toward the road, the car shifting forward as he pressed the gas at the green signal. He was trying… so you had to, too.

“But only if we go together, okay?” You reached over and took his hand before you could chicken out. His fingers fit perfectly in between yours, and your cheeks felt hot again as you gazed intently at your intertwined hands.

Shouto let out a little breath of surprise at your action, but his fingers curled tightly around yours in under a second. “Of course… love.”

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Shouto had sent your family home, despite their protests. The doctor’s orders were for you to resume life as you normally would— apparently, that would be the quickest way for you to regain your memories. The verdict was much to your parents’ dismay, but they understood that it was the fastest means for you to return to, well, you. So they left Shouto to take care of you, and he insisted that once your memories came back, he would fly them back out to see you again, or the two of you would come to them.

Though technically he was a stranger to you, he was the closest thing to home in the strange storm of your memory loss. He had been there for you every step of the way, every day. He tended to your every need, and he even anticipated your needs before you were aware of them. That didn’t change once you arrived at your shared apartment.

If you could even call it that.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled when Shouto unlocked the door for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Your jaw was on the herringbone-patterned, hardwood floor as your eyes wandered around the entryway, taking in every design detail you came across. You barely managed to take off your shoes before you were peeking your head into the bathroom next to the entry hallway, inspecting the clean and gorgeously-furnished half-bath.

Shouto chuckled and closed the door behind him, making sure to turn the lock as he set his keys into a porcelain bowl beside the door. “Go explore, I think you’ll like what you see,” he said amusedly, a half-smirk on his pink lips as he eyed you. Your starstruck expression only grew as you padded into the open space of the living room.

A long, cushy sofa and chaise stood before the huge flat-screen that was nestled into an elegant built-in, shelves filled with books you knew and loved and ones you didn’t recognize, too. Game consoles lined the shelf below the plasma screen, and your toes curled into the fuzzy rug underfoot as you gaped at the room. Everything— even the curtains and the coasters on the coffee table— was exactly in your taste. You felt like you were in wonderland. Had you fallen down a rabbit hole and this was the magical, heavenly place you had landed in? Clearly this had to be a dream, right? You woke up as Todoroki Shouto’s long-time girlfriend, and apparently you lived here, with him?

Goddamn.

The kitchen, laundry room, main bath, office, bedroom, and master bath all fit your taste exactly the same. Only the second office and spare bedroom seemed a little out of place— they were more of a traditional Japanese design, but even though it was different, you did not mind. Even the runner on the staircase— who had a staircase in their apartment, by the way?!— was in a pleasing color and pattern. There was even a decently sized home gym, with various equipment and machines and a mirror running the length of the entire wall. By the end of your expedition, you were simply at a loss for words. You found Shouto sitting on one of the stools at the marble island that separated the kitchen and the living room, busy combing through some manila files.

“Umm,” you started, catching his attention.

He looked up at you, propping his chin onto his hand as his elbow rested on the counter. One brow quirked up, he grinned slyly at your outright astonishment. “Well?” he prompted, sitting up and rolling his neck, then stretching his broad shoulders. “What do you think?”

You try not to linger on the way the muscles rippled underneath his tight, crisp shirt, playing off your silence as shock. “It’s uh… perfect? I live here? I actually live here, right? You’re not pulling my leg?”

Shouto chuckled and shook his head. “I would never, love. Well, I have before, but no— I’m not right now. You live here. We live here. It’s all ours.”

You laughed giddily, unable to contain your excitement. Shouto smiled fondly at you, your grin infectious as your eyes wandered around the kitchen once more.

“Snack pantry is behind that door,” he nodded his head to the side and your eyes grew even starrier. He couldn’t help the laugh that trickled out of him at your instant footsteps— you were still you, after all. He knew all the ways to your heart very well, and one of them was most definitely through food.

“Woah.” Your mouth hung open once again at the rows of snacks and foods that greeted your gaze when you opened the door, the light flicking on automatically. Your eyes danced over the labels, recognizing many of your favorite flavors throughout the variety. “We could survive a whole year off of this stuff, Shouto.”

You stiffened when an arm wrapped around your middle, his front pressing up against your back as his chin fell onto your shoulder. That same comforting scent encircled you, but this time it was mixed with a subtle, woodsy aroma that made your mouth water.

Shouto breathed softly into your hair, the tip of his nose brushing the side of your neck. “I stocked up for your return, love.” He took another leisurely deep breath before he pulled back, his arm falling from your body and leaving you surprisingly cold without his touch. “Wanted you to have everything you could possibly desire.”

Your eyes inspected the pattern on the hardwood floor as he stepped away from you, your arm crossing over your front to grab onto your bicep nervously. Letting out a small laugh, you replied, “Yeah, I think you covered all the bases…”

He only hummed as he returned to his seat, sliding on a pair of thin metal glasses you hadn’t seen him take off before. You couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly handsome like this— a rare, domestic sight for only your eyes to enjoy. “Sorry I can’t entertain you at the moment,” he said, that analytical gaze locking onto you once more. “My agency asked me to look over these cases and I just have to finish them up— I’m technically on leave, but I still want to help out when I can. I only need another half hour or so. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. This is your home, after all.”

You smiled and nodded, rolling back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Alright, I’ll try not to bother you.” Shouto frowned at your wording, but you carried on anyway. “I think I’ll poke around our room and see if I can find something that triggers a memory.” Your acknowledgement of your shared bedroom seemed to put him at ease, and with that, you grabbed a strawberry-flavored snack from the pantry before making your way past him, roaming over to the bedroom.

“You can go through my things if you want, too!” He called from behind you, having already made your way to the stairs. Choosing not to reply to his invitation, you hopped up the steps and quietly closed the door to your bedroom, hands landing on your hips. Inspecting the room from left to right, you decided to go through the toiletries in the master bath before anything else.

Before you could move even a foot in the direction of the en-suite, a furry creature darted out from underneath the bed skirt and dashed toward you. You gasped in delight at the gorgeous visage of the long-haired cat— she had bright blue eyes and fine white fur, her coat streaked with gray here and there. The cat meowed cutely and curled around your ankle, rubbing her head against your leg affectionately.

You immediately crouched down and lowered yourself to her level, fingers eagerly diving into her soft fur and offering a good scratch behind the ears. “Hi gorgeous,” you cooed, the animal mewling back at you in response. Your fingers found her collar and you flipped over the tag, reading her name with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Yuki.” 

Heart softened at the thought of Shouto owning such a pretty creature, you gave her a good long rub before you decided to move on to your quest at hand. The creature followed closely behind, twisting in between your legs as you entered the en-suite.

The bathroom was large and luxurious, just what you would expect from a pro-hero of Shouto’s standing. It occurred to you that you too, were a hero of such regard, which must explain why you could afford all the lavish things you came across while combing through the closets and cabinetry.

You went through countless skincare products, face masks, makeup items, and bathing goods on what you presumed was your side of the double sink before you peeked into Shouto’s drawers. You fingered through his hygienic products, mumbling to yourself in surprise when you came across skincare items whose existence most men would not even be aware of. You shrugged and figured that you just must be an excellent girlfriend and teacher, assuming he used them correctly.

Eventually you found his shaving items, eyes scanning the labels until you find his aftershave. Shrugging, you took the cap off, giving a tentative sniff before you realized that must be what you smelled on him earlier, when he’d pressed up against you from behind and nuzzled into your neck. You bit your lip as you recalled how his arm felt around your waist, his nose on your throat. It had felt so intimate, and oddly… natural.

It was the most contact you’d had with him so far. While you were at the hospital, he would hold your hand. Besides that first moment when you had just woken up— when he hugged and kissed you, and the fireworks that had gone off had been then overshadowed by the horrific realization that your memory had been wiped— the half-hug just twenty minutes ago was the only time he had initiated further physical contact with you.

You frowned. It wasn’t like you’d been super affectionate toward him, either. Sure, you had reached out for his hand at the hospital, and you took it again during the car ride home… but now that it was just the two of you, alone in your home… it felt different. Maybe that was why Shouto had asked if you felt nervous when you were in the car, following your discharge from the hospital only an hour ago. Had he seen it coming— this potential pitfall in the reconstruction of your relationship? You wondered how he felt about all of this, but you were too shy to ask him so directly. Not when you barely knew him.

“Missed me so much you’re sniffing my cologne?”

You froze and glanced up at the mirror, Shouto’s reflection smirking at you from his leaned position against the doorway. Your cheeks immediately went warm and fuzzy again as you capped the glass bottle, carefully placing it back into its drawer before looking over your shoulder to him. A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it had been forty minutes; you must have gotten swept up in examining your beauty products.

He didn't have his glasses on anymore, and he had changed into a solid-colored t-shirt, the crisp button-down he’d donned earlier nowhere to be seen. Damn it… you had missed your chance to ogle at him with his shirt off. At your silence, his smirk melted into a small smile, stepping forward and joining your sitting form on the heated-tile floor. “Don’t worry, I’ve done the same to your perfume before as well,” he murmured as he reached toward the drawer on your far side, his arm brushing against your back as he searched for the glass vial. “You can try it, too. It’s the most recent addition to your collection, and I personally am very partial to its scent.”

The contact made you swallow, your gaze flicking over to his. He was looking at the various perfume bottles in the drawer, though, giving you the chance to inspect his face as his hair fell forward, soft locks of red and white splaying across his forehead. He was so breathtaking up close like this… your gaze dropped to his lips. God, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to feel those lips on yours again, to be in his arms and to be held as tenderly as you were that first day you awoke.

“Oh right,” he chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I brought it into the spare room the other day… Must’ve forgot to put it back.” He leaned back, ending the accidental physical contact with you.

You looked at him quizzically. “The spare room? Can I ask why?”

Shouto blushed and your heart thudded in your chest. Oh crap, he was so cute with his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah… I’ve been sleeping in there since the accident. It just feels…,” he paused as he searched for the right word, eyes avoiding yours, “wrong… to be in our bed without you.”

Your own cheeks warmed at that, his confession pulling at your heartstrings. “So the perfume..?”

His cheeks darkened a few shades, the hand on his neck rubbing harder at his skin. “Ah, that’s… honestly kind of… embarrassing to explain.”

You reached out so your hand covered his, and Shouto sighed as he allowed your fingers to slide in between his. “Can I guess? Will you tell me if I’m right?” He nodded at that, deciding it was better if he didn't have to say it. “You spray my perfume onto a pillow at night and snuggle up with it?”

Shouto’s eyes widened at your immediate response, swallowing before he let out a stiff laugh and a nod. “Yeah, that’s exactly right… kind of lame, isn’t it?”

Shaking your head, you smiled gently at him. “No, I think it’s sweet. It’s just what I would do if you were away, too.”

There’s a shocked silence that filled the bathroom then, Shouto’s wide eyes fixed on you for a long, intense moment. Eventually you broke eye contact, looking to the floor with an awkward smile.

“And you don’t have to do that tonight…” you offered quietly. “If you want, I mean… you can sleep in here.”

“Is that where you’ll be sleeping?”

You looked back at him, surprised by his instant reply. “Y-Yeah, I think so…”

“Alright,” he conceded, his blank face melting into a warm smile. “Then that’s where I’ll sleep, too.”

You returned the gesture, pleased to have made him happy. “Will you be spraying me with perfume before we tuck in?” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“No,” Shouto answered seriously, the smile dropping from his face, “your natural scent is a thousand times better than any perfume, love. I’ve missed it lingering on our sheets.”

Cheeks warmed for what seemed like the thousandth time today, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled, unsure of what to say. “Aha okay… well, I think you smell pretty good, too.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

Shouto originally wanted to order in from your favorite restaurant for dinner, but you managed to sweet talk him into allowing you to cook instead. After about a week of feeling completely worthless, it was nice to have something you could finally, actually do.

The refrigerator was just as stocked as the pantry, so after analyzing the plethora of ingredients at your disposal, you decided on a meal and set off, gathering all the things you’d need in an excited hurry. Just as you were about to start washing vegetables, Shouto slipped an apron over your head, steady hands drawing the ties together at the bottom of your spine. The garment fit you perfectly, intricate design in your favorite color. You thanked him as you glanced over your shoulder, grinning up at him.

There was a somewhat somber look in his eyes, a halfhearted smile just barely curving his lips before he nodded and moved away, retreating back to the other side of the counter where he’s staked out to watch you work. He’d offered to help— numerous times, actually— but you told him to just sit back and relax. You wanted to do something for the tired man, even if it was as small as putting together a meal.

It didn't take long for you to get into a rhythm. Chopping the vegetables and preparing the other ingredients came naturally to you, and you found yourself enjoying the process. It was something familiar, which was very much welcome.

“Do we cook a lot?” you inquired, raising your voice a bit so Shouto could hear you over the sizzling pan in front of you.

He was leaning on the countertop again— he must’ve known he looked delicious like that or something— and he glanced over at you from the open book he was reading. “Mm, when we have time. It’s not that we don’t enjoy it, but usually we’re both very busy. It’s normal for us to leave early, and return home late.”

You nodded in understanding, grinding fresh peppercorns above the skillet and giving the contents a stir.

“I like everything you cook for me, though.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, stealing a look over at him. While your cooking had improved since your teenage years, it wasn’t like you were a chef by any means. “Everything? You’re just trying to be sweet on me.”

The corner of his mouth curled up. “Maybe… is it working?”

The sound of the food crackling from a drizzle of oil filled the kitchen for a beat, and you stared at the wilting greens before you, unable to bring yourself to look at him. “Yeah, I think it’s working…”

There was another pause in conversation, this one less stifling than before. This time, Shouto broke the ice. “Even though we’re busy people, we always have a date every Friday… It’s the highlight of my week.” His voice sounded gloomier than just a moment ago, but when you chanced a look over at him, he was smiling slightly, staring at a cabinet and seemingly off in his own memories.

You wondered which memory he was going over particularly, but didn’t want to intrude his recollection, so you focused on stirring the pan instead. Tapping your phone on the counter next to you just to make sure, your eyes flitted over today’s date. 

Thursday. 

“Tomorrow’s a Friday,” you mentioned, trying to be casual, despite your heartbeat ringing in your ears. It was stupid for you to get anxious that he’d reject you— he was your boyfriend after all. But to you, this was all  uncharted territory; foreign waters.

“Tomorrow is a Friday, yeah,” he confirmed, looking down at his book again. “It’ll be a week since you woke up.”

The realization that you’d woken up exactly one week ago—the day that caused the man so much joy and then so much pain— that that day had been on a Friday, your sacred day that was devoted to being spent with each other… it made your heart throb uncomfortably in your chest. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, shutting off the burner and transferring the food into a serving dish. Bringing it over to the counter and setting it in front of him, you untied the apron and folded it neatly, placing that on the counter too.

“Would you… want to go out with me tomorrow, then?” you proposed smally, opening the drawers before you in search of eating utensils. You frowned when all you were met with was measuring cups and spatulas. “For our Friday date ritual, I mean.”

Shouto stood and crossed the island, opening the drawer behind you and revealing all the silverware and chopsticks. You moved to grab two pairs of chopsticks and he took your wrist gently, large thumb stroking across your skin. His other hand came to brush against the small of your back, but he chose not to grab onto you. “I would love that.”

You shared a smile and a meaningful look.

“Then it’s a date.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

After the dishes were all washed, you agreed to watch a movie. You had initially wanted to pour over your things again, to see if anything could help your memories come back. But Shouto had suggested the two of you relax on the couch instead, explaining that  he was not surprised that you were overworking yourself, but that it was his job to make sure you took care of yourself. He further threatened that if you wouldn’t take care of yourself, then he would have to “take care of you himself”, and that left you flustered more than anything. So you dropped whatever excuse you had prepared to argue back at him and followed him to the living room.

Walking in, you blinked in awe at the spread that Shouto had set up. Numerous candies and snacks are laid out for your convenience across the coffee table. The lights were dimmed and curtains drawn, even a few candles flickering in the shadows and scenting the room with a cool, refreshing aroma. There was a pile of blankets stacked in the center of the sofa, all the decorative pillows pushed into the corners to leave one large space for the two of you to share. It was a little… dare you say it… romantic. You looked over your shoulder at him, shooting him a suspicious glance. He had led you to believe he was “taking care of you”, but it seemed he had ulterior motives, too. Not that you were complaining.

Seating yourself next to the blanket tower, you peeled one off the top before unfolding it, letting the soft fleece tickle your ankles and lay across your lap. Shouto crossed in front of the TV, grabbing two remotes from the basket and coming to sit next to you. There was a respectful amount of space between your legs, and you couldn’t help but frown at the gap. You thought that he would sit right next to you…

It took a little while for you to settle on a movie, all the films from the past five years unknown and novel to you… even if Shouto informed you you had already seen them. He went along with your selection without resistance, opting to grab one of the biscuit snacks on the table before you.

As the movie began, you leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch, not really focusing on the actors on the screen. Your eyes were trained on the television, but your mind was elsewhere, unable to distract yourself with the story. You also noticed that Shouto was sitting stiff as a board next to you, focused on nibbling at his snack. He didn’t attempt any moves at you throughout the first thirty minutes, even after he’d finished with his confection. Slowly you allowed yourself to relax, succumbing to the film and settling into the pillowy sofa.

Shouto detected your newfound relaxation, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he watched your eyes fix on the main character and her love interest. “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like a cup, love?”

“I’m okay, thanks…” you replied softly, not really hearing him as the love interest was in the middle of their heartfelt confession.

He took a moment alone in the kitchen to calm himself. Even though you had been very receptive to him, he couldn’t help but feel hesitant whenever he touched you. He wanted you to want him; for you to want him to touch you. But he didn’t want to force anything with you, in fear that he’d scare you off or make a bad impression. He didn’t want to be pushy. Even before the accident, his heart still pounded whenever you would smile at him. When you would grab his hand, bring him something because it reminded you of him… when you would moan into his ear at ungodly hours in the night… Now it felt like his heart was in his throat every time you spoke to him, like if he said one word wrong, you’d fly away from him and never look back. It was terrifying.

Shouto shook his head. Sighing to himself, he filled his mug with water and held the ceramic in his hands, steam rising off the surface of the liquid almost instantly as he activated his quirk. He allowed the tea leaves to steep for a moment before he fished them out, steeling his nerves and returning to his spot on the couch. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like you’d scooted over just the tiniest bit, shortening the distance between you two as he took his seat.

Your eyes flicked over to him and caught his gaze on you, inspecting the mug in his hands before giving a curious sniff. “Chamomile?”

He nodded and offered the cup to you, which you took in both hands. “Technically, it’s called Sleepytime Mix. But yes, it has chamomile. Have some, if you want.”

“Ah,” you gave a long inhale and smiled drowsily at the familiar scent. “I don’t wanna drink all your tea. And besides, it’s a little hot for me.”

“Oh,” Shouto said, taking the cup back into his hands. He focused for a second, and then the liquid no longer emitted steam, now a pleasant, warm temperature. “Try it now. Help yourself, please.” He handed the mug back to you, the light from the television flickering across his handsome face.

You blinked at him cutely, taking the mug in your hands again. Your fingers brushed against his in the transfer, and he cleared his throat slightly, skin warmed from your touch. “Wow!” you chimed after a sip, going back for another few gulps before you handed it back to him. “It’s really good. Perfect temp, Sho, thank you.”

Shouto felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, his eyes widening at the name he hadn’t heard in weeks. It sounded so good rolling off your tongue, so right. At his flustered expression, you laughed awkwardly, fingers delving into the blanket and looking away meekly.

“Sorry… I thought that that was probably what you’re used to me calling you, but I can use something else if you like.”

“No,” he said instantly, his hand automatically reaching for yours. He pried it out of the fleecy material, folding his fingers around yours. “I like it. Please call me that, I… I’ve missed hearing it.”

“Alright,” you mumbled, fingers squeezing his for a moment. You kept his gaze for a long pause, and then you duck down, scooching flush against his side and laying your head onto his broad shoulder. It caught him off guard, but after a moment of buffering, he moved, his arm tentatively wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. The action made your cheeks perhaps as hot as the tea in his mug, but you only settled deeper into his embrace, happy to be in his arms. You fixed the blanket so it covered his long legs, too, settling over the both of you snuggly.

You two stayed like that for the rest of the movie, another forty five minutes or so. Your hand gradually moved to rest on his stomach, his long fingers stroking your spine through your shirt. It was new to you, but it was comfortable— your body recognized his touch and welcomed it, even— years of unknowingly conditioning yourself to receive his affection allowing you to accept his embrace. By the end of the film, you were dozing off, warm and relaxed now more than ever, curled up into Shouto’s side.

Shouto, however, was wide awake, his pulse rushing in his ears at your proximity. It had been a very long month without you, and now here you were, cuddled up with him just like how you used to be every night. He knew you were somewhere in between consciousness and sleep, so he let the entire movie credits roll by before he decided to move you. Still holding his mug, which had been empty for the past half hour— but he didn’t want to risk moving and causing you to pull away— he set it on the side table, carefully maneuvering his wide frame so as to not disturb you.

You whined in protest but did not stir when he curled his arms around you, picking your form up and off the couch. After making sure all the candles were blown out and the lights were turned off, he quietly carried you to your shared room, not bothering to turn on the lights. It was then that he hesitated to make the next move— you were still in your clothes from the day, and he wasn’t sure if you would want him to see your bare body if he took the liberty to rid you of them.

His tongue wandered over the bottom of his teeth as he gazed at you, strewn across the soft blankets that covered your bed. The few beams of moonlight that slithered through the bottom of the blinds fell perfectly onto your face, your lashes casting long shadows onto the duvet and giving you an ethereal glow. He could imagine how your naked skin looked underneath that cute little sweater you donned, your bra strap poking out as if to tease him even more. His eyes slammed shut as he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, recognizing the color, and the image of you clad in the matching panties that completed the set suddenly sprung forth in his mind.

Acquainted was an understatement as to how well he knew your body, but the problem was not as simple as physicality— the problem was mental, and it could not be vanquished by anything except time, it seemed. The beautiful brain he loved so dearly was now wiped, void of all the memories the two of you had made and cherished together. Shouto clutched his stomach as he took a seat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, feeling sick from the forceful whirlwind of emotion that came along with the thoughts that crept up on him in the night. The knowledge that you did not remember him, not even one measly memory of him, upset him more than anything.

He had not realized how much his world had shifted now that he had you. Of course, he loved you and he made great effort to ensure that you knew the extent of his devotion to you. But it wasn’t until you had woken up like this, confused and distraught, mind reverted to just months before he had even met you, that he had come to terms with just how much you meant to him. He knew that he loved you before. But now he knew the pain of being unable to hold you, and be with you— really, even talk to you like he had grown so accustomed to.

It was eating him alive, and tearing him apart.

When you had awoken after such an excruciating, lonely month, he had been overjoyed. Finally, he could be with you again— he could touch you and kiss you, hear your sweet voice, hold your body close to his as you fell asleep, and wake up with you still in his arms, groggy and adorable… except, he couldn’t. Because while you knew who he was… you didn’t, really. You didn’t know him at all. And what hurt the most was that he could see that you were trying… but at the end of the day, he was only a stranger to you. He was not your boyfriend, not anything more, other than a hero that you idolized and had a silly crush on.

At the very least, he found comfort in the knowledge that you found him attractive. Of course, you had revealed to him, albeit once you were deep into your relationship, that you had fantasized about him and fostered a schoolgirlish crush on him when you hadn’t yet been introduced. He remembered laughing at your embarrassed confession, pinching your cheeks and then kissing you through his smile… then, taking you from behind as you bent over the bathroom counter, pressing you against the mirror as he donned his hero suit, savoring your pleading moans for him to fuck you deeper, harder.

His cock twitched in his slacks, blood beginning to travel south as his interest grew for the first time in weeks. He groaned and he grit his teeth, frustrated at himself for even daring to feel desire while you laid asleep next to him, plagued by your wiped memory but sitting there looking like that. Gorgeous and untouchable.

As if his heated gaze had summoned you from your slumber, your eyes opened and you blinked at him, squinting at his silhouette in the dark of the room. Shouto recoiled even though he hadn’t been caught doing anything too suspicious; he was a good distance away from you, but still, you had caught him staring at you like a creep in the shadows.

“Sho?” you mumbled drowsily, a hand coming up to rub at your eyes. You propped your body up on your elbows, your shift stretching flush over your chest.

Shouto nearly moaned at the sight combined with the sound of your sleepy voice uttering his name. It didn't help the situation that was stirring in his pants one bit, only adding water to an oil fire. “Hey,” he replied, clearing his throat. “You fell asleep, so I brought you to bed.. Did you want to clean up before we go to sleep?”

You sighed, rolling over as you roused yourself from sleep. “Not really…,” you chuckled, and Shouto felt his chest tighten at the premise of having to get into bed with you with his problem at hand. “But I’ll be a responsible adult,” you finished, rolling out of bed and padding over to the bathroom.

He glanced over at you in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, the cat curling around his ankle and taking his attention away from you. Giving the animal a scratch underneath her chin, he tried to focus on calming himself, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing. Even though this wasn’t at all like how it had been before, it was still better than being alone. Your presence, the sound of you tidying yourself up in the nearby vicinity, took the month-long weight of loneliness off of his chest. It still stung, it still hurt— but at the very least, you were here. You were alive, and you were here with him.

It was you calling out for him that interrupted his train of thought, and when he looked toward your voice, he found you peeking around the doorframe, your hair pushed back and your face glistening with moisture from your nightly routine. “Aren’t you going to wash up, too? There’s two sinks in here, y’know,” you stated matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t know the layout of his own home.

But Shouto only smiled at you and nodded, leaving the cat and accepting your invitation for him to join you in your bedtime ritual. The situation in his pants had since relaxed, thankfully, so he didn’t have to worry as he took his place adjacent to you at the sink counter. Squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles of his toothbrush, and watching you put on your moisturizer in his peripheral, it felt almost as if nothing had changed. For the first time in a long time, he let himself forget about the horrible curveball that life had thrown at him, instead choosing to stare at you as you picked up the cat at your feet, and placed a sweet kiss on the top of its head as you cradled it in your arms.

You padded out of the bathroom first, opting to close the door behind you. After Shouto had finished his routine, he slinked out into the bedroom quietly, surprise flickering in his gaze at the pyjamas you were now dressed in— a pair of soft sleep shorts and an old t-shirt you had stolen from him years ago. He tried not to stare as you crawled into the sheets, the cat taking her perch at the foot of the bed.

The clearing of his throat caught your attention, and he licked his lip as your eyes settled on his. “Is it okay if I sleep without a shirt?” he asked, having to keep himself from smirking as your eyes widened and a flustered expression blossomed on your face. Cute.

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered after a second of recalibrating, your eyes still trained on his. “The doctors said we should just live out our normal routine, so… whatever we normally do, we should do.” Sliding deeper underneath the comforter, you pretended to look busy as you fiddled with your phone.

Shouto bit his lip and wondered if telling you that your nightly routine of getting naked and passionate between the sheets would do you any good, but he decided against it, not willing to push his luck. Instead, he tore his shirt over his head and pulled down his pants, turning toward the wall so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. He could still feel your gaze on his flesh— he always could, for his skin prickled and the hairs on his body stood up as your eyes roved over every inch of him in appreciation. He didn’t need to see you to know that you were staring.

After he stepped into a long pair of sleep pants, he turned and pretended not to notice your obvious shuffling in a foiled attempt to not be caught looking at him. Carefully he slipped into the sheets on his side of the bed, ensuring not to wander too close to you in order to keep a respectful distance between your bodies… even though he wanted nothing more than to launch himself at you, and wrap his body around yours until neither of you could tell where one of you stopped, and the other started.

There was a long, stuffy silence as the two of you laid there, both of you unsure as to the level of affection you should be displaying at the moment. Shouto was doubtful that you’d want him to hold you like he so desperately desired, and you were hesitant to initiate anything with him laying frozen and a good distance away from you.

“Is this… how we normally sleep?” you wondered aloud, and though you were surprised that the words actually fell from your lips, you were grateful to have broken the rising tension.

Shouto left out a breath he had been holding at that, turning so that he was facing you on his side. “No,” he answered truthfully, his fingers sliding over the cool cotton that separated your bodies, wandering toward you at a snail's pace. “Usually… we like to,” he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was situated there, “snuggle.”

In the quiet of the room, he could hear your lips part, a soft breath falling from between them as you processed his response. Your heart was beating faster now, body crying out for his touch, his embrace. “Can we?” you asked so softly that you hadn’t thought he’d heard you, but slowly, surely, he shuffled toward you.

You inhaled as he placed a gentle hand on your waist, pulling your body to slide across the sheets and meet him in the middle of the bed. Lifting your head so he could slip his arm beneath your neck, he brought your face into his neck, arms wrapping tight around your torso. His fingers dug into your side and the hair at the crown of your neck, curling around the tendrils as if he was scared that you would slip out of his grasp at any moment. Pressed up against his bare chest, you could hear the steady, fast thumping of his heart, and the shakiness in each breath he drew in and let out.

It sounded like he was trying not to cry.

Your hand wandered up and under his neck, your elbow angling around the back of his neck so that your fingers could trace the sinews that lined his shoulder blades. Your other arm slung around his back, and although it was just a bit of a reach, you managed to find his silky locks, combing through the ends with your fingers. Daring to push the fragile boundaries that kept you two separate, you threw your leg across his hips, trapping his legs between yours and pressing your body completely flush against his.

Shouto stopped breathing, tears threatening to spill over as he held you so delicately for the first time in what seemed like forever. Similar emotions were flowing through you as well, your body singing at the feeling of being with him, in his embrace. Your heart throbbed at the thought of leaving this man alone for an entire month, with no one to comfort him and calm his worries. No one to hold him and tell him that it was going to be okay, no one to plant kisses across his tear-streaked cheeks and help him forget his pain.

It wasn’t your fault you had been in this accident, that you had forgotten your memories from the past five years. But it wasn’t his, either. The two of you were forced to suffer in different ways, separated by your condition and worlds apart. You wished so desperately that you would just remember already— if not for your sake, then for his. Anything that would make him feel better, anything to ease the ache in his heart.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out quietly, overcome with emotion as you laid in the arms of the man you had once loved. The man you’d been learning to love again. “I’m so sorry I don’t remember you. I want to, I’m trying.” A tear dripped down your face and landed on his chest, sliding down to stain the sheets.

Shouto sucked in a shaky breath at your meager apology, rough fingers running over the back of your neck. “I know you are,” he murmured, and you could feel him swallow thickly as he tried to find the right words. “It’s not your fault, love… You can’t— you can’t blame yourself.” His voice broke at the last syllable, his arms squeezing tighter as he held onto you.

You pressed your face into the junction between his shoulder and his neck, uncaring of your tears that smeared across his skin. “Neither can you,” you sniffled, body clinging to him as best you could. “Please, Shouto, promise me you won’t.”

It was then that he let the tears he had been holding back fall, racing down his cheeks to plop onto the dampening pillow. You held him as he cried, unphased by the sudden outburst of emotion from the man who had shown you so little of himself in the past week.

“I’ll try,” he mumbled into your hair once he had calmed down a bit, lungs still rattling as he tried to suppress his emotions. “For you, I’ll try.”

You leaned back from his chest, his heart seizing up at the tear tracks on your cheeks that were illuminated by the soft moon’s glow. And then, you kissed him. It was simple and sweet, just your lips pressed to his as your thumb swiped across his cheek. But it felt like you were breathing life into him, like he had been starved of oxygen until this very moment.

Both of you gasped when you pulled away, the kiss having lasted as long as you could stand without breaking for breath. Your eyes wandered from his shining ones to his lips, shocked that you had planted such a passionate kiss there just seconds ago. It had worked, though— Shouto was breathing normally and his tears had stopped, dual-colored eyes now staring at you as if you had just given him a purpose to live. You licked your lips, not missing the way his gaze flicked down to watch the action with longing, but he did not act on it.

“We’ll get through this together,” you whispered, hand resting on his sharp jawline. There was not a hint of doubt in your voice, no hesitance nor fear. It was just a fact, simple as that. You let yourself look at his handsome face for a moment longer before you ducked and nuzzled into his chest again, taking your spot as if you had never left.

Shouto exhaled, his fingers trailing down your spine as he closed his eyes, syncing his breathing to yours. The feeling of your body wrapped around his made his bones glow with a missed sense of comfort, his heart fuller than it had been for quite some time. He welcomed sleep to take him, the exhaustion of many long and insomnia-plagued nights from the past month all piling on. Pressing his lips to your forehead as softly as he could, he closed his eyes and murmured one word, wishing with every fiber of his being for you to wake up the next morning and have just one memory of him.

“Together.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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...soooooooo idk how this is only part 1, shit’s 11k already 💀 ahh for those of you who made it through, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed!! there was no smut in this chapter which is so foreign to me, but i’m hoping to improve my story creation skills as part of my 2021 author resolutions... so, let me know what you think! hopefully part 2 will come to fruition soon, but it would probably come faster if i knew people were waiting for it ;) 

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[ziracona]

Hello! I have always believed that Michael needed better doctors and good treatment. He was simply billed as "Evil". Sometimes I think that at that time they were unaware or ignorant of mental illness, and that is why Michael did not recover. I wish it had been treated better. I would like to know your opinion about it ;v;

Oh, absolutely. Michael is a very tragic character, and what happened to him was almost entirely Loomis’ fault, secondarily the system and his parents’, and like onyl 0.8% his own. It’s true that mental health aid has historically been really bad in most places, and even today treatment and acceptance—even in specifically medical settings—tend to be abysmal. Of course people knew less than they do now about how psychological stuff works, but bias, cruelty, and superstition as well as a system that enables and even to degrees outright encourages that is to blame for the awful treatment people woth mental illnesses and personality disorders faced and continue to face, not just a lack of knowledge, and the history is really heavy and awful to look over. : ( It’s horrific some of the things doctors have done and do to people just trying to get help.

Like, in Michael’s case, we’ve had a name and understanding of psychosis since the 1800s. Canonically, by the time the poor kid was six years old, he was hearing voices telling him to do bad things to people. He told his parents, seeking help, and they did nothing to help him—just told him it was his imagination—despite knowing hos grandfather had suffered the same symptoms. If they had only taken him seriously and given him therapy and possibly medication too, Judith never would have died. (I am not goong to say it every time, but all this information is official canon) Michael’s reason for killing his family members is wanting the vocies talking to him to be quiet, because it’s agonizing. If you’ve ever had intrusive thoughts (stuff like “pull into oncoming traffic” or “break that and see what happens” and such that don’t actually compell or force you to do it at all, and are always things you as a person deeply do not want to do, but nevertheless are really annoying or distressing to hear in your head), imagine that cranked up to 1000, endless and constant, but from voices that seem to come from around you instead of in your head. Especially as a young child, with no understanding what is happening to you, this would be incredibly scary and distressing—doubly so when dismissed by your parents, whose sole job is supposed to be to love and protect you.

The voices say they’ll be quiet if Michael kills Judith, so Halloween night, he does. Important to note here Michael is recently six years old at the time, which developmental psych literally is not old enough to have a complete understanding what death itself is, let alone complex morality. You /cannot/ be evil at six, you simply don’t have a complex enough understanding of right and wrong or of consequence to /be/ evil. Also at this age, usually kids see death as a vague concept, but one that applies to people they don’t know only, not to them and their loved ones. In Halloween 1978, immediately after stabbing Judith, Michael looks away while he keeps doing it, and his breathing speeds up in a scared way. He barely looks at the body, and immediately goes down stairs to wait for his parents—probably for them to fix it—and does nothing to flee or hide what he’s done. He looks traumatized when they take his mask off. (Lots of little notes here like that Judith when she sees him seems annoyed but not very, and when he attacks her, tries to shield herself and call to him to stop, rather than fleeing or fighting back, which [appealing instead of fight or flight] is pretty exclusively something you only would use if attcked by someone you are on good terms with—I mean, Michael is six—if Judith had /tried/ to fight back, no way she would have died—so there’s less than nothing to indicate they had anything but a loving familial sibling relationship. But if I list all these I’m gonna launch into my six page Michael Myers meta so I will speed through the rest.)

Anyway! Sorry, I have many feelings. About...everything. Including Michael for sure. So, immediately after killing Judith, Michael stops talking. He also shows other psychosis and trauma readily recognized side effects, like catatonia, slowed movement. In Halloween 1978c Dr. Loomis claims he tried to treat Michael for eight years, then spent another seven trying to keep him locked up because he realized he was evil. This is a /blatant/ lie, as in film canon Loomis, by Michael’s review hearing I believe four months in? Six or less for sure, I believe it is four. Loomis has /already/ become convinced Michael is a demon in human form, faking his symptoms, and itching to kill again. The other doctors think Loomis is crazy, as does the other doctor who examines Michael, but they’re awful people so they let him stay Michael’s doctor anyway, even though they refuse to move him to Litchfield maximum security. By this time only a few months in, Loomis is canonically also threatening the six year old in his care and constantly telling him he is an evil being who wants to get out and terrorize again. (Also, I will die enraged the sentance Michael gets for killing Judith is to remain locked in solitary in a sanitorium for /15/ years, until he turns 21, at which point he will be tried as an adult for murder??? The fuck?? You CANNOT charge a 6 year old’s crime in adult court! ‘Tried as an adult’ is meant for like, when a 17 year old dismembers their family and eats them! It’s for particularly heinous crimes, committed by someone /very/ close to being legally an adult, and that /only/. The idea of waiting fifteen years to try someone as an adult for something done at age six is laughable and sick).

Okay this is already long, I get carried away rip. Uhhh, anyway, yeah. In Smith’s Grove, Michael is visited by mom and Laurie once, then never sees any of his family again, because his dad hates him and forbids the others—finds out because Laurie is four and talks that they went /one/ time, and physically beats four year old Laurie for mentioning his name until she trauma blocks out ever having had a brother. From then on, Michael spends /fifteen/ years and all the dest of his developmental stages of childhood in a sanitorium with Dr. Loomis—a man who on wild religious superstition grounds assumes by his own admission /on sight/ that Michael is evil, and no other human contact. According to canon, Michael spends at least four hours of /every/ day with Loomis, his /only/ human contact, who threatens him, promises to stop him, and endlessly barrages him with “You’re evil, you’re not human, you want to kill again, I /will/ stop you,” and nothing else. He also canonically keeps Michael overdosed on a type of antipsychotic that, while a fine drug if used normally, if overdosed can deeply worsen symptoms, and can cause permanent brain damage.

Honestly, if a six year old is exposed yo major trauma, none of their issues are explained, legitimized, or believed, and almost all of their developmental stage is spent with endless voices they don’t know the cause of suggesting murder and violence, one human being and authority figure telling them over and over and over for fifteen years with no other constant in their life or human contact period that they are a demon in human form who wants to kill and is /going/ to do so again...? How else was that story ever going to end? I’ve said it before, but that’s beyond conditioning; it’s lab growing a human child to one day walk out and murder Laurie Strode with a large kitchen knife.

I stand by Halloween is a greek tragedy more than a slasher, and Michael and Laurie are both victims. He’s the Asterios, she’s the Ariadne. Loomis the Minos, the real villain. (Or the Poseidon choose your poison).

Anyway, I 100% agree! If he had just gotten help from his parents, Judith would have never died. If he’d had good doctors, none of the events of 1978 would have come to pass, or anything after it. Loomis single-handedly causes the deaths in 1978 himself through years of cruelty, and bigoted bias towards a small child in his care who needed his help, not his abuse, but he chose to break as much as he possibly could despite his responsibilities as a doctor, an adult, and a human.

If you’re interested, I did a canon-deep-dive character study short story on Michael on AO3! Halloween is such a sad story but it’s fascinating. God, poor Michael and Laurie deserved so much better than they got. It’s a testament to Michael’s character that even after 15 years of Dr. Loomis, he really only kills his intented target(s) in search of quiet from the voices, and anyone who sees him/would be a threat, and not other people. Makes no attempt to kill any of the kids in Halloween 2018, and only kills Bob when he literally opens the door to his hiding spot and Michael is found and Bob becomes a threat to him. In H20, after Michael has had 20 years on his own, you get arguably the least brutal Michael, who intentionally passes on killing the mother and child, and the security guard he walks right past, because they don’t see him and thus he doesn’t /have/ to. Halloween II is less intentionally avoiding, but even then he still does the same multiple times too, like with the old lady making a sandwich, or the scene in the incubator room. Anyway he desevered better fuck Loomis all my homies hate Loomis.

[phoebehalliwell]

so you know how the 100th episode is supposedly about paige but like really it's about cole and wanting to be with phoebe again instead of like being about the charmed ones... well i just realized the 150th ep is mainly about leo and like secondarily about piper and pleo... so like you think if there had been a 200th ep it would have been about henry + paige/henry... like this show be like we gonna focus on the love interests instead of the main characters for the big milestone eps

100th episode my detested,,,,,, plugging my au for the 10,000th time. but now that u point it out, like. yeah. they really both were p relationship focused whether that was establishing that they are meant to be no matter what (leo finding his way back to piper w his mind wiped) or a really weird excuse to drop a plot you've been running for two and a half season (what happened to us, we used the be so in love / maybe it's just not meant to be like girl what. girl we have been here for literal years and the best reason you can come up with to finalize getting rid of cole's character was idk maybe it just wasn't meant to be r u joking. i don't even like phole but like goddamn was that stupid. i'm sorry this is such a tangent but why does phoebe smoke now? and her and cole Both have affairs like clearly phoebe's off the deep end so i don't even really know what's going on there but cole Also having affairs like. like you're telling me this only started to break off from canon in s4 when they were Obsessed with each other in s4 they got married in s4 to someone they hate each other and are in a loveless marriage and sleep with other people because they're empty inside? really? That's The Best You Could Come Up With. piper going awol murder machine shure i'll allow the leather's a little much but it's what 2003 so whatever. but phoebe doing. whatever the hell she was doing in centennial charmed. it literally make no sense. i'm still talking about this after her family was ripped apart after seeming stable for the first time in so so long you're telling me she would abandon piper for cole and then not even like like cole? like this woman would be desperate for a family for love for support for something to call her own and hold onto and know it'll be safe know it won't leave her if anything we should have seen freaky codependent phole not this neutered lackluster indifferent mess. 😡😡😡)

anyway. relationships! tbh tho. would have Loved a good paige/henry backstory ep. bc like. we just vaguely teased henry's backstory and it's literally so fucking interesting like the implications he was abandoned at birth or maybe he was orphaned either was he grew up in the system that failed him over and over again and has like trouble getting close to people because of it and then somehow ended up as a parole officer like trying to help kids who are probably in identical situations to the one he was in like. there's So Much To Do There. but specifically, if i am doing Thee Paige/Henry Centric ep. it is a blast 2 the past in which the couple both have to confront their anxieties around parenting, ending w the reveal that paige is pregnant w twins. or starting w the reveal idc. but i am. really fascinated i've talked about paige and motherhood before but i think like. for anyone who like. has/had good parents but still you know. were either like an evil little shit or just you know fucked up and miserable so on and so forth people who have made their mother cry in the kitchen like. there's something really fascinating there because like. how do you now as a mom try to protect your own child from the pain u went through. because goddamn it seemed like your mom did everything right and yet you were still awful. so how like. how are you supposed. god if you're as good as her which seems like a reach your kid still might be like you and and what if you're not as good as her. what if everything you try to do only backfires and blows up in your face more you know blah blah blah that good old fashioned anxiety. piper and phoebe don't have this because they didn't like. have a mom. but paige did and she had a really good one who never actually got to see her get better and those scars run deep!! aaaaaaaaaa!!!! i really like mom!paige it's something i really like to think about because i think like while she's great with kids she's great with babies she's great with toddlers she's great at connecting with students with charges with parolees i think she really struggles being a mother to her own children for all the aforementioned reasons. so it could be fun to break that down While we also a) get henry's tragic backstory bc we always need more of that and b) henry's own views of parenting and also just more of their relationship headcanon rite now henry gets really into astrology so he can help paige with spells and the like because he hates feeling like he's powerless and can't help his wife so he finds all the ways a mortal can help <3. but yeah i think henry secretly like doesn't even fully realize it has a whole lot of anger stored up in his heart bc i do think he was abandoned at birth and you know paige kinda got closure on that you know she literally got to meet both parties and you know they gave her away to literally protect her from unspeakable wrath vis a vis the elders so there's that but for henry it's like. like he was their son. and they just. they left him. they didn't even leave any way for him to find them again because like. they just didn't fucking care, i guess??? like. what. what could be the reason what could drive them to do that and you know paige whose parents Had Reason are like i'm sure your parents had reason but imo. they didn't. and i think that's a wound henry really pretends like he doesn't have. so we're def tearing that open in ep 200. that and then just like. how much henry wants a family <3 how much he wants to take em to six flags and make french toast on sunday morning and fly kites in the park like he wants to give his kids the childhood he wished so so bad he could have had. bonus round after traveling back through time to pick at scabs til they bleed, we end with a quick flash forward into the future where everything works out <3

[punkpoemprose]

December 5th- Livestream

Universe: 2010′s AU Streamer! Anna AU Rating: Teen (maybe I’ll do a smutty followup at some point!) Length: 4368 Words

A/N: Sorry this is a little late. I didn’t have wifi for most of the day so I spent it doing other Christmas things instead of writing.

“So you’ve really never played a videogame before?” She asked, “Like you didn’t play Pokémon or Mario as a kid?”

She was sitting, cross-legged, atop one of the four washers in the apartment complex’s laundry room, snacking on Nacho Doritos and undoubtedly making a mess in a room meant for cleaning things. Across from her, pulling clothes from the drier was her neighbor Kristoff. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone except for maybe her sister, but she’d been intentionally doing her laundry on the same schedule he did his, He wasn’t usually the social sort from what Anna could tell, but she found him very attractive and relished the weekly opportunity to get to know him better. Also, secondarily, but no less importantly, it gave her the opportunity to stare at his very tones ass as he bent over to remove his clothes from the dryer. That he always wore basketball shorts on laundry day was proof enough to her that God was real and she or he wanted Anna to thrive. Or to be tested for her strength of will. Perhaps both.

“Not really,” he admitted with a shrug, “I grew up mostly playing hockey. One of the ice rinks used to have a pinball machine, and I played that, bit it probably doesn’t count.”

Anna snorted and set down the bag of chips, shaking her head and wiping her fingers on her sweatpants. He was a totally unique guy, vastly different than the “pretty boys” she normally took an interest in. Her attraction to him ever growing since the day he moved in. That day, when she’d first noticed him, she’d been given the great pleasure of watching him lift heavy boxes through her window, and then through her peephole after he’d climbed the stairs.

“Did it have a screen or a ball?” She asked, more as a joke than anything given that she knew the obvious answer.

“Touché,” he replied.

She took one last good look at his rear as he straightened up, appearing to be satisfied that all his clothes were out of the dryer and into his green laundry basket. The smell of his dryer sheets wafted over to her from the open dryer as he shifted out of the space and she decided that she needed to up her laundry scent game. It was unfair that someone was allowed to be as attractive as he was and to also smell like lavender and citrus and all the good things on the Earth.

She noticed, probably a bit creepily if she was being honest with herself, that he wore boxer briefs. And since she’d first noticed it weeks before the image of him wearing them and nothing else had haunted her late-night thoughts like a sexy specter. As a result, it had provided her of the most perfect mental picture of what he might look like in her apartment, in her bedroom, undressed and giving her the eye. She bit her lip trying to rid herself of the thought, lest he glance over at her and see her giving him bedroom eyes, or worse, drooling all over herself. He probably didn’t even realize that he was weapons grade sexy, because that made him even more attractive in her books.  

“Sometimes I play solitaire on my computer if I’m waiting fi something to load,” he offered in his own defense.

He was turning towards her now, proving her concerns correct. He rested his basket against his hip as he leaned back on the now empty dryer. His sheepish smile and tone told Anna that he knew that the defense was not particularly convincing in anyway, but that he needed to at least try.

“That’s just sad,” she teased, shaking her head as if she truly were severely disappointed in him instead of just joking around.

“Well not everyone plays videogames for a living Anna.”

It wasn’t an attack really, but more of a statement. When she’d started talking to him the words may have had more sting, but now, knowing him and his gruff but kindly manner, she took it for the joke and defense of his lack of experience that he meant it to be. If he had a flaw it was that he was a bit of a grump. He’d never been mean though, and she was already watching him soften more and more by the day.

“Well not everyone is a chef either Kristoff,” she replied, “It takes all types to make the world go round.”

“I’m a baker,” he corrected.

He rolled his eyes at her when she shrugged and gave him her best “po-tay-to, po-tot-o” look. The look and sigh of exasperation that this rewarded her made her laugh. There was little better than the playful exchanges she could have from him in just looks, and it was one of the many reasons why she enjoyed being around him. They didn’t know each other very well yet, but she still felt like he got her somehow.

“And also, just so you know, you sound like my mother.”

“She’s a wise woman.”

She of course knew that he was a baker, but she hadn’t really realized that he’d rather be called a baker than a chef. Either way, she was still hoping that maybe someday he’d show up at her door with dinner, or a cake or something, just so she could invite him in.

“That she is.”

A silence fell between them as he folded his things and while Anna swapped her own clothes out of the washer and into the dryer. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but rather a companionable one. That was of course, until they both seemed to come to the realization simultaneously that one of them would be leaving sooner or later.

“You can change it by the way,” Anna offered.

“My mother being wise?”

She almost laughed. She hadn’t met his mother, but she doubted that with a son like him she had the power to change anything about her. If anything, she might ask her for some wisdom of her own.

“Oh gosh, no. All mothers, or at least all the ones I’ve met, have been wise. No, I meant the ‘never played a videogame’ thing.”

He shrugged at first, but then gave her a look betraying a greater level of interest. She wasn’t sure whether he was going to say yes or no, and there was a long pause as he thought about it.

It would be fun, she thought, to play with him. Maybe, if he’d let her, she’d stream it too. Videos of experienced players teaching others always had high entertainment and replay value. It would be good for her brand, but mostly she just wanted an excuse to invite him to her apartment. She’d been wanting for a while to see him somewhere other than in stairwells and the laundry room.

“What do you play?” He asked finally, seeking out more information.

She wasn’t sure he was quite ready for the long list of games she’d streamed before, let alone the even longer one of games she’d played just for fun. She decided it was best to give him the highlights of the CliffsNotes.

“I play a little bit of everything. I’m competitive in Overwatch and League of Legends, but I’m not really like… going to in person tournaments of anything. I just get invited to a few online cups here and there. Mostly I just play for my audience rather than thinking about joining a league or anything.”

He looked at her like she had three heads that each of them was speaking a different language. She’d gotten too deep too fast she supposed.

“I just mean that those ate the games I play against people seriously in. I play other games for fun and for people to watch how they’re played.”

He nodded, and while she could still see confusion in his eyes, he was making a solid effort to understand. She did notice that he was giving her a sort of amused smile, like he was enjoying the conversation despite not really knowing what it was she was talking about.

“Can you put that into different terms? I get that it’s competitive, but are you playing for money or points or?”

“Sometimes a cup will have a cash prize, but mostly I earn money from people watching my streams on Twitch and then the replays and the play throughs of games I post on YouTube.”

They’d talked before a bit about what they each did for a living. She’d been trying to figure out how to ask him what bakery he worked at so she could drop by sometime but hadn’t quite figured out how to be subtle about it yet. He knew that she was a streamer, and while it was a difficult career to try to explain to someone, he’d made the effort to understand as she offered him more and more details each time. He hadn’t asked for her username of anything, which was always equal parts disappointing and unsurprising. She didn’t really want him to watch her videos per say, but she also wanted to be able to imagine that he was tuned into her streams when she was doing them. She just wanted to be able to pretend for a little while that he was interested in her enough that he’d want to watch.

“Uh, I don’t know where this falls exactly, but my sister’s kids play Minecraft. Do you play it? They talk about it, but I don’t really know what it’s all about.”

“I could show you,” she replied, feeling a bit bold, “We don’t even have to stream it if you don’t want.”

He stopped to think again, and Anna was careful not to let her eyes wander too far down his body as she took the time to take in the muscle of his arms, the way his black t-shirt strained over the expanse of his chest. Whatever it took to be a baker, she decided, must be one hell of an upper body workout. His rear, she’d already decided, was surely hockey related. He’d never said so directly, but she was fairly sure he still played, and on occasion she’d see him carrying a large duffle up and down the stairs.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind. Could my niece and nephew watch?”

She grinned. It was a date.

They’d settled n the weekend, not too early, not too late. She’d insisted on calling his sister to let her know personally that the kids could watch them play from home. When her sister had called him to let him know about the call, she’d told him how nice Anna had been over the phone and how she’d even given her instructions on how to keep chat closed for the kids’ viewing so that if anyone typed something profane they wouldn’t have to see it. Generally, Anna set up the whole evening and his one and only job was “show up and have fun”.

He’d been a little uncomfortable with the idea even after agreeing to it. He didn’t really know how to act around her, let alone on camera. The fact of the matter was that he was an introvert and Anna was the opposite. She was warm and gregarious, and she was, at least to his yes, radiantly beautiful.

When she’d offered to teach him to play a game, to bring him into her world, into her home, he hadn’t been able to say no.

For months, since he moved in and they started sharing their laundry room conversations, he’d been trying to find a way to get to know her better. All he’d wanted was an excuse to take more time, because when he was with her, he felt happier than he could ever remember being with anyone other than his family or his friend Sven.

He was sure Sven would be tuning in to see whether he made an epic fool of himself. The whole viewing world, or at least all her viewers, would be watching him bumble about, but it was worth it because it would make Anna smile. And he supposed also that it was a plus that he’d be able to play a game with his niece and nephew the next time he saw them, but mostly it was for Anna.

He took a deep breath before knocking on the apartment door. He’d wanted to bring her flowers or something as a thank you for teaching him how to play, but Sven had put the kibosh on it when he’d brought it up, insisting that it would make it seem like a date and that he needed to “play it cool” until “the real date” that he was somehow sure there would be.

“One sec guys, I think that’s him!”

He heard the patting of bare feet moving quickly across the hardwood floor. When the door swung open with a creak, he was met with a grinning Anna and a warm rush of air into their always too cold hallway.

The breeze carried on it the smell from her apartment, which hit him more directly than the heat. It smelled like the holiday collection at bath and body works had an illicit affair with the food scented and musk Yankee candles producing a lovechild that reminded him of what the bakery might smell like if it was in the middle of a garden. It was all sugar and spice, chocolates and floral.

It was like her, and as he saw the bright décor evident even in her entryway, he couldn’t help but smile. It was no surprise that she’d want to be in a place as bright and fun as she was.

“Hey,” she said excitedly, reaching up to click something on the headset she wore, and then reached for his hand, “I’m so glad you could make it! Your niece and nephew are viewing with everyone else. They’re extremely excited for their Uncle Kris to learn a videogame.”

He felt her fingers card through his as she lead him through the door and into the apartment. She was talking and while he was trying to listen, he was distracted by the fact that somewhere in his head, something was screaming over the fact that she was holding his hand, and that he was in her apartment and that this was all happening.

“Okay?”

“Huh?”

She was looking at him and he forced himself to focus on that, the way she was giving him an understanding smile, preparing to repeat what she’d said while he was busy spacing out.

“We’re going to just do an hour unless you decide you want to go longer. We’re going to play on my PC instead of console today. There’s going to be another monitor next to you with my livechat running but you don’t have to interact with chat if you don’t want to. I’m going to just give you a spare headset for audio, okay?”

He wasn’t really sure that he was okay. He was feeling spaced out and wasn’t really sure whether or not he was going to regret this whole thing, but then she squeezed his hand gently and he decided that it was all alright.

“Yeah, thanks for doing this. I’ve been meaning to…” Spend time with you? Ask you out? Watch your streams like a creep because I want to pretend you’re talking to me?, “learn to play something, you know… for the kids. They’re going to think you’re the best after this.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand again, this time holding it tight for a little longer before letting it go entirely, like she didn’t really want to let go.

“I’m glad you’re letting me. I’m really glad you came tonight.”

He took a deep breath, trying not to read into it as she led him over to her streaming setup. There were two chairs set up in front of a webcam with a bunch of screens around them. The main screen had “Standby” written on it next to a cartoon of Anna wearing a headset and drinking a hot cup of tea. The little icon was kicking one foot back and forth under a cartoon version of her computer chair and the cup was billowing steam. It was cute to say the least, and she must have agreed because she walked over, got into her chair and “booped” the nose of the drawing before beckoning him to sit next to her.

“Ready to go?” she asked brightly, handing him a bright green headset that had been sitting next to the main computer’s mouse and keyboard.

He took it and put it on, deciding that this was, in fact, going to be alright after all.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She smiled and he felt her hand go to his again, giving it a squeeze where it rested on his lap before she pressed a button on his headset, then one on hers, and then clicked a few things with her mouse, bringing them on the stream, live, before an audience of a few hundred people.

***

“Hello and happy Saturday!” Anna announced warmly, trying to focus on working even though Kristoff was right there at her side, relaxed and smiling at her more than he was at the camera, “As you guys requested Kristoff, my neighbor is back for the fifth consecutive weekend to learn a new game.”

She tried not to roll her eyes when she noticed the amount of comments in chat that were, to say the least, thirsty. Anna had noticed that since having Kristoff on her stream for the first time, a fair amount of her female audience had been staying on stream for longer than they normally would. Normally she wouldn’t complain, but there was something about them thirsting over Kristoff that made her want to get her mod to kick them from chat.

It would be bad for business, but every time she saw Kristoff’s eyes wander over to chat and saw him flush from the attention, she wanted to take him into the other room and give him the proper attention he deserved. She’d gotten close to kissing him after the last stream he’d joined her for, and then again, the morning after when he’d brought her coffee and a beautifully glazed apple turnover from the bakery he owned just down the block.

She’d thought, weeks back when they’d done their first stream together, that she couldn’t possibly be more interested in him than she already was. But then he’d been funny and kind and an eager learner in her stream, and then she’d received thank you flowers days later, and he’d agreed, while they did their laundry to do another stream. And she’d fallen in love with him in just a few weeks, she’d fallen in love with the way he was thankful even when she was the one who needed to thank him. She’d fallen in love with the way he offered to come back again and again and again because it had been good for her work, and the way he’d invited her to see his bakery because it was only fair to share as much of himself with her as she had with him. She fell in love with the way he could be quiet, but that his gestures and facial expressions could speak volumes, and she fell in love a little more each day.

“Due to popular demand,” he said, taking a moment to look over at her for confirmation as he’d become more comfortable talking on stream, but preferred to address her more than he did the camera, “I’m going to be playing a dating sim.”

There was a subset of her viewers who, instead of thirsting after Kristoff, had been dead set on getting them together. There were also those who assumed that they were, in fact, together, but the viewers she was enjoying most were the ones who actively attempted to get them to talk about their “chemistry” and “tension” on stream. They were lead by a user named SvenjaminButton and Anna decided that if she and Kristoff ever did get together, she was going to track him down and buy him dinner, because he rallied the troops in a spectacular way, getting people to request more Kristoff on the stream and giving Anna the excuse to see him.

The dating sim had also been his idea.

She loaded it up and laughed at the bad graphics, it was one of those one dollar steam games that someone just threw together from preexisting code and some drawings. She wasn’t expecting much from it, but Kristoff was playing along like a champ, and she was looking forward to talking to him after the stream ended about how silly it was.

His skills with games were improving over time, and this point and click was surely not going to cause him any challenge, but still she appreciated that his initial response to the game launching was to move closer to her, putting her into his space should he need any assistance. She liked to think that maybe he just wanted to be in her space anyway.

“I hope you find true love,” she teased, the stream already going wild.

“I think I already have.”

***

Kristoff was still kicking himself for what he’d said at the start of Anna’s stream as they were logging off. He was pretty sure that she thought he was just playing up a joke when he’d said the bit about already having found true love, but truthfully he wasn’t, and he felt adrift. He’d fallen for her, and he’d fallen hard. She was just so fun to be around, and she instantly had changed his perspective on games from being a waste of time to being something actively enjoyable. Half the fun was, of course, just being with her.  

“Thank you so much,” she said when the stream ended, leaning back in  her chair and practically tipping her head onto his shoulder as she did so, “You’ve really been so wonderful with all of this. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for all the time you’ve been putting in.”

He smiled, happy that he’d been helpful to her, that she’d been happy to spend the time with him.

“You don’t have to thank me Anna. I’ve been enjoying myself. But… if I could maybe ask you something?”

This was the night. It had been Sven’s suggestion, and he still wasn’t sure of how he felt about it. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy who made moves, but he’d never really had a cause to do so before. He could be bold in business, in work, in life, but in love? It was new for him.

“Of course Kristoff,” Anna replied, leaning her face towards his as she leaned back, bringing her face so close to his that all he would have to do was move a few inches to kiss her. That, he thought, was going to far, even if he desperately wanted to do so.

“Would you be interested in going out to dinner? Anytime you want, I know you’re busy, but I’d really like to take you out.”

She gave him a look of surprise and immediately he wondered if he’d just ruined everything.

He could feel the heat rising to his face, feeling like he’s just picked the wrong answer in the dating sim they’d been playing. He could practically see the little heartbreak icon popping up over her head, but then, he watched as she too flushed.

“Like… like on a date?”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He raked a hand through his hair, trying to focus on something other than how close her lips were to his and how incredibly wrong this could all go in almost no time at all.

“Yes. Unless you’d prefer not, because I like being your friend and I don’t want to ruin that if you’re not interest…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, because Anna’s lips were on his and she was kissing him. Then as he leaned forward, he was kissing her and reaching out to bring her closer. He couldn’t catch his breath before she was climbing out of her chair and onto his, her thighs moving to the sides of his as she straddled him on the chair and kissed him until he was breathless.

His hands didn’t know where to go, but after a moment of them simply hovering, he let one wander along her sides, feeling her waist and her hip while the other brushed against her hair and rested against the back of her head.

She pressed herself into him and he held her close as they kissed harder and faster, lips becoming kiss swollen and wet as they explored together. He hadn’t ever really kissed anyone like he was kissing Anna, so he focused on the pleased sounds she made when he pulled her closer and kissed her harder.

“Can I take this as a yes?” he managed, when they broke for a moment to take a breath.

She was resting her head on his chest, her eyes, when they met his, were dark and pleased. She must have enjoyed the kiss as he had, and he was glad for it. What he’d started to say was true. He’d be happy to have her as a friend if that was all she wanted.

He felt like the luckiest man on earth that she’d wanted more.

“Tonight,” she said, “Take me for dinner tonight because I’ve been wanting this for months now. I don’t think I can wait.”

His heart raced as he thought about Anna, for months, wanting him as she did now.

“I don’t think I can either,” he admitted, letting his fingers card through her hair as he held her tight.

He didn’t know where he was going to take her yet, but he knew that wherever they went, the food would taste sweeter than it ever had before.

[kimpson]

My name is James kim.

This Is How I Came To Know What I Now Know, That I Am helping patients all over the world. Am putting this down now because I have had allot of patients asked how I do came about this protocol.

feel grateful to be able to tell my story that will make you aware of my background and how I arrived here.

Like so many people, I was scared, tearful and very distraught after my mother received her cancer diagnosis. Over the next 6-12 months the medical establishment tried, but nothing the doctors had to offer appeared to stop the metastasized cancer from taking over her entire body. She did what research she could about terms like; how to get rid of cancer naturally, holistic treatments and cures for metastasized cancer, and alternative cancer treatments that work.

Sadly, she never found anything that she thought would work for her.

My Father also had a real scare with a cancerous left kidney. His cancer hadn’t metastasized so his Doctors removed the kidney and he has been fine ever since. Then a day that I hoped would never come, came.

My mother said she did not think she was going to survive her cancer, the thought of which left me terrified and petrified thinking I was going to lose my mother to cancer.

Worse yet, the thought of her spending her last days in a hospice bed paralyzed me with fear and left me wanting to do nothing more than to curl up in a corner somewhere.

But instead of feeling sorry for myself and wanting to do what I could to save my mother, I chose to spend my time Googling terms like; how to cure stage 4 cancer naturally, natural lung cancer cures, natural treatment for lung cancer, natural cure for lung cancer, natural remedies for lung cancer and a whole bunch more.

My wife saw me doing these online searches, and she and the kids pleaded with me to accept the inevitable and to start preparing myself for the worse.

I was a useless wreck!

My Only Options :

(1)Pray, hope and plead while waiting for cancer to kill her

(2)Try to figure out how to slow down or stop her cancer long enough for her to die from old age instead.

As you might have guessed, I chose option 2 and then I aggressively launched a mission to save her life. Fear and desperation are probably two of the greatest motivators there are.

Available on the web were tons of books and hundreds of websites offering anywhere from a single product that cures every disease mankind has ever known, including those trying to tell you how to get rid of cancer naturally. To even more websites offering “2-299 guaranteed surefire alternative lung cancer treatments using the root from some plant that is only found in the Amazon Rain Forest or on a mountain top somewhere in India.

Common sense and research told me that all of these were a waste of time.

Common Sense and Research

Let me be brutally honest with you. I found no magic pill or secret drug out there that could cure cancer or keep her alive.

Especially after you’ve done multiple rounds of chemo and/or radiation. Odds are it’s over! Close the shades, update your will, finalize your funeral arrangements, and kiss your family and friends goodbye. I was seeing this first hand with my mother, and the saddest part is that the only certain thing is WHEN and not IF she would succumb to the cancer metastasis.

Many times I wanted to give up on finding a solution. I had almost come to terms with the reality that she’d be dead in 6 Months. I went through a gamut of emotions like fear, anxiety, dread and anger. But I channeled those emotions and went about the work of saving her.

Please allow me the pleasure of sharing with you the ” Eureka” moment when everything all came together. What I found is:

I quickly concluded that after many decades of waging war on cancer there had to be legitimate, valid and credible studies that revealed an effective alternative cancer treatment protocol.

After hundreds, if not thousands of hours of searching the web and reading hundreds of these research studies, my hard work and relentless efforts were rewarded.

I found several studies that had been rigorously peer-reviewed and which were supported by hundreds more rigorously reviewed university studies. What all of these studies did was to put together for me a genuine, scientifically validated treatment program that was virtually certain, at a minimum, to stop her cancer metastasis in its tracks, if not outright cure it!

The researchers declared this treatment as, likely to be “more successful than current approaches because it is based on the principles of evolutionary biology and metabolic control analysis” and that it could truly be an alternative cancer treatment and cure.

So if you needed an:

-alternative breast cancer treatment

-alternative prostate cancer treatment

-alternative pancreatic cancer treatment

-alternative liver cancer treatment

Then this is your ticket to a real chance to treat and beat your disease!

However, I like to be as close to 100% sure as I can get. So I looked at how The American Cancer Society (ACS) evaluates mainstream and alternative cancer treatments.

They do this by asking three questions:

1) Has the method been objectively demonstrated in the peer-reviewed scientific literature to be effective?

2) Has the method shown potential for benefit that exceeds the potential for harm?

3) Have objective studies been correctly conducted under appropriate peer review to answer these questions?

Fortunately, I was able to answer all those questions with a resounding YES! Every single piece of knowledge reinforced my belief that this truly would give me a great chance at keeping her alive especially since current mainstream protocols like surgery, chemo, and radiation had failed her.

The Well-Known Secret is Finally Available

It’s not a secret that Big Pharma makes some very vicious business decisions. So it should be fairly easy to see there is not a Big Pharma business person that would spend millions to educate MDs or the General Public about a cheap and effective treatment protocol. Even if it has been scientifically validated by elite research scientists time and time again. Just because it has zero potential to add to Big Pharma’s already massive net profits.

But what I learnt earn is the findings scientists have known about for decades.

That you stand an outstanding chance of defeating cancer if not outright curing it, IF the right protocol is used.

What your cancer cells need to kill you, are the nutrients (glucose and secondarily glutamine) that the blood vessels bring to them so that they can continue to grow and metastasize. Because cancer in and of itself won’t kill you. It is the ongoing and uncontrolled growth of cancer that eventually overwhelms your body and kills you.

So the key to not dying from cancer is to be able to slow down or kill enough cancer cells so that they don’t overrun your body.

Research scientists have known and proven this over and over again for decades. This protocol teaches you the specific details of what to do so that you can effectively starve cancer and then eradicate it while ensuring that your normal cells remain very healthy. And the best part is, this protocol does it very quickly, cheaply and most importantly very EFFECTIVELY!

The 70+years of clinical science that supports it, is overwhelming.

If you have cancer of any origin, no matter how aggressive it is, or even if it has metastasized, YOU DON’T have to be DEAD too soon.

Quite the contrary, you will have a plan, that is a whole body and systemic protocol that will suffocate, starve, poison and kill cancer anywhere in the body. It matters not if it has been declared untreatable cancer. Metastasized or still localized. It doesn’t matter the origin (lung, breast, liver, pancreas, etc).

You Won’t Have to Worry to Death Anymore

[fritillus]

heleddi stormfist

race: half-orc half-dwarf alignment: lawful neutral [tending towards good] background: guild artisan class: barbarian

const: 17 (+2 racial) = 19, +4 bonus //// str 14 (+2 racial) = 16, +3 bonus dex: 13, +1 bonus /// wis: 13, +1 bonus int: 12, +1 bonus // char: 12, +1 bonus

speed: 30 feet max carry: 210 lbs

hit dice: 1d12 per level   lvl 1 hp: 12 + const = 16 // hp per level: 1d12 or 7 + const (4)

ac: 10 + dex + const (class bonus) = 10+1+4 = 15 passive perception: 10 + 1 bonus + 2 proficiency = 13

personality

rolled / selected largely from the guild artisan tables and embellished:

personality trait: 1 and 3 and 5

i believe that anything worth doing is worth doing right. i can’t help it — i’m a perfectionist.

takes pride in her work, but tends to progress slowly and carefully. a firm believer in measure twice, cut once.

i always want to know how things work and what makes people tick.

observant; won’t attempt a new task or behavior until she’s seen it executed successfully enough times that she’s sure she understands how it works.

attentive to the emotional states of the people around her; wary and somewhat emotionally closed off herself.

i’m rude to people who lack my commitment to hard work and fair play. 

somewhat judgemental. tends to assume the worst of other people’s motivations; especially so towards people she judges as motivated strongly by chaotic self-interest.

ideal: one and five and six

community. it is the duty of all civilized people to strengthen the bonds of community and the security of civilization. (lawful)

people. i’m committed to the people i care about, not to ideals. (neutral)

the above two: not necessarily the security of civilization, but the security of the places and people she considers hers.

aspiration. i work hard to be the best there is at my craft

to further her craft

but also to master and channel her emotional rages, so that she can go home and settle down with a nice dwarven boy

bond: one, secondarily three

the workshop mountain where i learned my trade is the most important place in the world to me.

i owe my guild a great debt for forging me into the person i am today.

character flaws: [not rolled]

paralyzing self-distrust, second-guessing

she does not trust her own judgement, her own emotions, and is concerned with how she appears to others. she has no desire to be intimidating, and she is frightened by her culturally proscribed emotionality.

wary and insecure.

she spends a lot of time watching others and attempting to fit in socially as she could not physically. this has made her unusually discerning of others’ emotions, but she isn’t always the most accurate at determining why people react the way they do. she has a tendency to assume the worst of others.

character and background

orcish name “elet” dwarficized to heleddi

grew up in a dwarvish metalworking community; she is the result of a an ill-conceived tryst between her dwarven father and orc mother. her mother reappeared in the mountains with a toddler a few years later, and left her behind. she barely remembers her time in the orc tribes, and may or may not have any mementos from her mother1; her command of orcish - once fluent - has lapsed over the years (reads/writes fluently, speaks without an accent and can pass among orcs without detection for simple sentences; complex conversations require a saving throw to determine whether she fucked up a grammar).

she grew up in lawful good dwarvish society, very aware of her status as an outsider both by appearance and temperament. her branch of the clan was seen as unusually modern, her father was already considered impulsively experimental even before her birth. hyperaware of the fact that her existence caused a tremendous scandal and badly damaged her father’s reputation, she isolated herself from her peers in early childhood, and no one tried hard to stop her (aughts). she was kept away from combat training for much of her adolescence2 (teens) due to fears that her increased size and strength, emotional volatility, and orc blood might make her a danger to herself or others.

she spent much of her time watching others and attempting to pattern herself after dwarvish behavior, but still found herself wracked by worryingly strong emotional whirlwinds: tantrums and rages, bouts of sobs or laughter so intense her body was wracked with them, immobile, while they siezed her. most of her emotions were fleeting as summer storms, disturbing the steady and slow-moving dwarves around her. worse, her emotional disturbances sometimes stuck with the same powerful certitude that defined a typical dwarven emotional range, but with depths and peaks rarely reached by dwarves outside of isolated moments. her rage wasn’t the slow simmer of a dwarven grudge, but a shrieking boil that would refuse to abate; her worry would sink into her bones, leaving her sorrowful and weeping for weeks at a time before the next emotion hit.

eventually, she learned to focus her emotionality through her metalwork, to find some regulation of her excesses. here she finally found connection: her increased strength and passionate emotional range caused her to struggle with inconsistent craftwork her dwarven peers did not face, but her willingness to redo her work until it was perfect, her struggle to ensure that she would make a perfect piece on the first try no matter how gripped she was by emotion: this struggle and her deep, stubbornly-held dedication to this craft helped other dwarves relate to her and resulted in artistic and technical discussions that were the seed of her first true and lasting friendships. (twenties)

**figure out her eventual weapons training - she’s proficient with light hammers and hand-axes just because... you’re dwarf-raised you learn how to use them, but possibly not AS proficient using them in combat (doesn’t have practice hitting a Moving Bleeding Target with them). her actual weapons are likely to be larger/heavier than typical dwarvish warhammer/battleaxe - ideally greataxe & maul3

[[something happens that brings out her Rage in combat - possibly a sparring accident in which she injures or kills someone close to her, possibly acting in defense of her friends but terrified with the violence with which she lashed out.]]

either way, it both frightened her enough to cause her to remove herself from the community which she had been raised to value above all else, in order to learn to master - or at the very least channel - her rage, until she feels she can safely return home.

1 - at dm’s discretion, possibility of backstory for future plot, etc. 2 - possibly trade some forms of proficiency for others - she’s late to the game and somewhat banking on natural talent but also likely to use heavier/larger weapons 3 - at dm’s discretion but holy shit PLEASE

skills & proficiencies

species: half-dwarf, socialized dwarf (no orcish skill proficiencies beyond the language itself)

languages: dwarvish (primary), common (accented secondary), orcish (tertiary semifluent; roll a deception during involved speech).

see background for additional language skill (gnomish)

resilience: resistance to poison; 1/2 poison damage

stonecunning: advantage in history (int) throws => history of stonework;  add double the normal proficiency bonus to the roll

tool proficiency: smithing

combat training: proficiency in battleaxe1, warhammer1, hand-axe, light/throwing hammer

mountain dwarf armor training: proficient with light and medium armor

1 - again, trade for greataxe / maul proficiency at the dm’s discretion

class: assumes a Barbarian Tribe training background not relevant 2 her.

proficient with light and medium armor

proficient with use of shields

proficient with simple and martial weapons 

skilled in (choose two): animal handling, athletics, intimidation, nature, perception, survival

all of these overlap with dwarven proficiencies with the exception of shield usage, which i’m not sure i can justify her taking given that she probably largely relies on two-handed weapons.

also, given that she’s fairly sheltered with very little real-life battle experience the only skills i’d feel make sense would be perception (people-watching! she’s an observer!) and maybe athletics.

her barbarian classing is like an innate characteristic of how she fights, not representative of her character background or training.

background: guild artisan

skill proficiencies: insight, persuasion 

she’s probably got insight from Peoplewatching but maybe not persuasion? poorly socialized? half a proficiency bonus?

tool proficiencies: one type of artisan’s tools 

smith’s tools (overlaps with dwarven training)

languages: one of your choice

limited conversational and written fluency in gnomish - enough for trade, but possibly not to discuss philosophy.

feature: guild membership. guaranteed food/lodging from members; funeral paid for; guild halls to make connections (jobs!). political connections. will help you @ trial.

cost: 5gp per month in dues to remain in good standing

equipment

barbarian starts with:

(a) a greataxe or (b) any martial melee weapon

ideally a maul (10lb/2hand/2d6 bludgeoning)

failing that a greataxe (7lb/2hand/1d12 slash)

(a) two handaxes or (b) any simple weapon

handaxe (light, thrown 20/60, 2lb/1d6 slash) 4lb total

an explorer’s pack (59lbs)

backpack, a bedroll, a mess kit, a tinderbox, 10 torches, 10 days of rations, a waterskin, and 50 feet of hempen rope.

four javelins

trade javelins for light hammers?

light hammer: (light, thrown 20/60, 2lb/1d4 bludgeon)

guild artisan starts with:

a set of artisan’s tools (one of your choice)

weaponsmith’s tools: 20gp / 8lb

a letter of introduction from your guild

a set of traveler’s clothes

a belt pouch containing 15 gp

trinket:

roll closer to play

math for ability scores:

2 5 5 1 = 12 5 2 3 4 = 12 3 1 6 4 = 13 6 3 4 2 = 13 2 5 4 5 = 14 4 6 5 6 = 17