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#they did still at least acknowledge that the person who was in a coma was still mentally a child... (they role-swapped them w the OG person
neganium · 5 months
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finding a new fic in my current hyperfixation's tag on AO3 (y'all know what it is) that is an interesting AU, and hoping all the while as I read that the author isn't fucking nasty like the last person I ran into was (and somehow saw me posting about it even tho I didn't tag it or even mention the fandom in the post itself, and bitched at me for it). They have a twitter handle on their profile, but it's not one I recognize (tho since I go there so infrequently, and have been actively avoiding the place for months now, that doesn't really say anything); idk if they're on tumblr too or not. hh.
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strangeswift · 1 year
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Will had assumed —reasonably so, he thought— that a year into the actual apocalypse, birthdays wouldn't be a very big deal. Maybe a passing acknowledgement, if that. Really, it felt a little selfish to expect anything at all. 
Like, People are dead, and your friend is still in a coma. She might not wake up. Congratulations on being alive, asshole. 
Though admittedly, for Will specifically, being alive was sort of an accomplishment in itself at this point, given everything. And Will was happy to be alive. Most of the time, at least. 
He just didn't expect anyone to throw a party about it. 
It wasn’t until Will groggily descended the Wheeler's stairs and spotted the notebook paper sign strung up in the kitchen, Happy Birthday Will, distinctly in Mike’s handwriting, that Will realized they were indeed doing the birthday thing. It still felt weird, but he couldn’t help the embarrassed smile that spread across his face as everyone in the kitchen sang Happy Birthday to him. Nor could he help the hammering in his chest when Mike made his way over to him and slung his arm across his shoulders midway through the song.
All in all, the day was fairly uneventful after that. They let him have the last can of SpaghettiOs for lunch while everyone else had watery vegetable soup, which was nice. 
He didn't have to go on the supply run they had planned for the day. Actually, he would rather have gone, especially since Mike went, but Mike was oddly insistent that Will stay behind, so he did. It wasn't until after Mike returned that Will found out why he had to stay behind. 
"Can you just trust me?” Mike asked.
“I do trust you,” Will said, “It’s just that letting the clumsiest person I know lead me down stairs blindfolded is a little nerve-racking.”
“I’m not gonna let you fall. Jesus,” Mike said, exasperated, as he slowly led Will down the basement stairs, “Just three more steps.”
Once they reached the bottom, Will asked, “Can I take this off now?” gesturing to the bandana that was tied over his eyes.
Mike answered by taking it off for him, and Will blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Mike looked incredibly pleased with himself, and Will soon saw why.
On the coffee table, set out on a plate, were two perfectly square brownies with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles on top. A lit candle was sticking out of one of them.
"Where did you get these?" Will asked in disbelief. None of them had tasted anything sweet in months. "I know damn well you didn’t get this shit at the grocery store. Or Melvald's."
Mike grinned sheepishly. "Don't worry about it."
Will frowned "You– Where did you go for this?"
“Doesn’t matter,” Mike said, “just blow out your candle!”
“Mike,” Will said, crossing his arms.
Mike sighed, "You're relentless, you know that?"
Will looked at him expectantly. 
"The gas station on the other side of town, but it’s not a big–"
"Mike!" Will scolded, "What the hell is wrong with you? You went all the way across town? That is so not safe!"
Mike shrugged. "I didn’t go alone. I had Nancy and her big ass gun to keep me company,” he said, “Besides, it was for a good cause?” he tried.
“You’re an idiot,” Will said, grinning in spite of himself.
Mike grabbed his hand, and Will tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as Mike led him to sit on the couch in front of the coffee table.
Once they were sitting, Mike dropped his hand, but he stayed close. He knocked their knees together. “Go on. Make a wish,” he said quietly.
Will shook his head, searching Mike’s eyes. “I don’t have one,” he said.
Mike cocked his head. “There’s nothing you want?” he asked, a teasing smirk on his face.
Oh. Well, Will could think of one thing.
“I mean, maybe,” Will said, averting his eyes, “It’s stupid, though.”
“If it’s what you want, it’s not stupid,” Mike said firmly.
“Well, it’s embarrassing,” Will amended, flicking his eyes back to Mike, who leaned in, ever so slightly.
“I’m sure it’s not,” Mike said, “But you don’t have to tell me, anyway. Actually, you can’t tell me. If you do then it won’t come true.”
Will huffed a laugh. “I wouldn’t tell you anyway.”
"Fine," Mike said, "blow out your candle, make your secret wish."
Will laughed and leaned forward, blowing carefully on the candle and watching the small flame flicker and fade into a wisp of smoke.
"Think it'll come true?" Mike asked.
"I don't– I mean, probably not," Will said, "I'm still not telling you, though."
“Really?” Mike asked, pouting. “Can I guess? I think if I guess it, the wish is still valid.”
“I think you’re just making up wish rules now,” Will teased.
“Maybe,” Mike conceded. “Can I guess anyway?” he asked, leaning even closer – and god, he had no idea what he was doing to Will, did he?
Will raised his eyebrows. “You have guesses?”
“I have one,” Mike said.
It was a bad idea, Will thought, to let Mike guess. A very bad idea.
“Please, share,” Will said.
"Okay..." Mike said nervously, "Yeah, okay." His cheeks went a little pink, and he flicked his gaze down to Will’s lips. Or– No, that was probably… Wishful thinking. 
“God, I hope I’m right about this,” Mike breathed, and he leaned in even closer, so close their noses were almost touching. Will watched with wide eyes as Mike brought shaky hands up to cup his jaw.
Mike let out a breath, and Will could feel it on his lips. 
Mike closed his eyes, pressed forward, and kissed him.
Kissing Mike was nothing like Will expected it to be. It was soft and slow, and Will wanted to melt into it. He wanted to stay in the moment forever. If Vecna did come for him, that was the happy thought he would run to. He wouldn't even need music, just the memory of Mike's lips against his – that would be enough. 
Mike pulled back, and Will resisted the urge to chase him.
"Did I guess right?" Mike asked breathlessly, letting his hands slide down to rest gently on the sides of Will's neck.
"What?" Will asked, dazed. 
"Your wish," Mike said.
"Oh," Will said. "Yeah. That was– Yeah."
Mike beamed. "Cool," he said.
"Cool," Will repeated, a smirk playing at his lips.
Mike leaned back. "Now eat your birthday cake," he instructed. 
Will picked up one of the brownies. "These are gas station brownies," he pointed out.
"Birthday cake," Mike insisted. 
Will took a bite. It was heavenly. 
"Oh my god," he groaned, "I've missed sugar."
Mike picked up the other brownie, taking a bite. "Oh. Wow, yeah. Holy shit," he said, taking another bite. 
"It's so good," Will said, laughing giddily. He popped the last bite in his mouth.
Mike smiled warmly. "Happy birthday, Will."
"Thanks," Will said, "but if you ever risk your life for brownies again–"
"Oh come on," Mike said, "Cut me some slack. I was romancing you."
Will's eyes went wide. "You– What?" he squeaked. 
Mike flushed. "I mean– Whatever."
Will burst out laughing, and Mike couldn't help but join him. Somehow, Will felt years worth of tension dissolving as he laughed so hard tears began to form.
After a couple of minutes, they settled into comfortable silence, grinning at each other. "I want to kiss you again," Mike announced.
"Well, if that’s what you want," Will said, leaning in.
And for a little while, nothing else mattered. Just Mike, who was warm and tasted like chocolate, who was romancing him with stolen brownies and kissing him like he needed it.
It was a good birthday. 
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anartisticdreamer0 · 5 months
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time for liveblog of qtoo stream:
oh hi tilín o/
we’re all wondering what your doing here
“there will be more to come” tilín don’t be like this man
WHO TF IS KILLING THOSE PIGLINS DAMN
damn how evil was? is? q man.
oh okay we acknowledge the beeping, it’s definitely life support
ah a portal, but he doesn’t wanna go- he did- he looked at all his other options and went fine
he realized he’s really far out
RICHAS- pfft richas doesn’t have the fuckin skin on- BAHAAHAHA
there he is properly, q trying to get the admins to redo the scene pfft
tilin wants q to introduce them to richas
i like the detail that richas has their personal blue sign while tilin has the basic signs that they all used to have
PA QUACK AAAAAAAA CRIES
q asking why richas looks so bad and is happy one of them is treating him nicely
HIJA- FUCKING FINALLY
DAMN TILÍN- damn q is really trying to make them understand he loves them both and richas didn’t replace tilín to him, and richas still means a lot
why is richas here, someone free this stinky child.
HA RICHAS SAID IT! HE TOLD Q HES IN A HOSPITAL!
richas is doing the most-
WHY IS THERE A BOAT. (oh roier)
richas is like “nah dude its fine i get it” and tilín is like “nah fuck this guy”
should be clear i’m not 100% this is actually tilín but ya know gonna treat them as if they are until otherwise obvious
oop richas is burning the trees and tilin ain’t complaining
IS THIS A MAZE OF HIS SINS??
TALLULAH- HIJA YOU FUCK- why is he not saying whose tallulah’s parent is- BRO SHE AINT YOUR DAUGHTER- YOU TRIED TO KILL HER DAY ONE OF HER LIFE!!!
“a better father than you” well about that tilín- roier’s probably currently hitting his new kid or something
aww q’s excitement to see a picture of tilin and him together
WILBURRR- bruh not this bullshit of him maybe being tilín’s other father- BRUH YOU JUST WANTED IT TO BE WILBUR Q!!
oh etoiles!!
Q EITHER JUST SHAT ON WILBUR OR ETOILES- probably will- bro at least his kid is alive so ya know- he may be absent but hey at least she lives sooo
ayo is that a chest of tnt- AYO WHY DID TILIN JUST KILL Q DOR WHAT RICHAS SAID??
oh now they’re fighting- they want q to stay out of their fight- but richas is being weirdly mean towards tilin- hey wait what- WHAT?? HE LITERALLY WASNT LIKE THAT 5 MINUTES AGO???
that heart monitor should be going way faster truth be told
damn richas is so fuckin jealous for some reason
q is realizing how much he fucked up
oh richas statue is back.
IF I HEAR A CHEST OPEN ITS ALL FUCKED
ya know i did hear tilin was a big fan of fighting eggs
DAMN. “have you achieved something in life?”
IS RICHAS DEAD? ILL COMMIT ARSON.
IS RICHAS DEAD?? coma defo. OK SO NEITHER OF THEM DEAD. just tilin.
RICHAS CHILL FOR FIVE SECONDS WE’RE TRYING TO FIND OUT IF YOUR DEAD.
and we’re going full tnt. RICHAS IS NOT DEAD!! HES IN A COMA!! unfortunate, BUT HES NOT DEAD!!
awwww richas. richas said q made him really happy and asked if q was happy with life. q said no.
BOMBS AWAY TIME!! THERE GOES THE LABYRINTH OF MEMORIES! (bot yet) he just wants to keep the memory maze. to say goodbye.
he really wants to keep the memories- damn. “why do you think your life has value?” (tilin) FUCK. FUCK. “my life never had value, neither did my memories.” (q) AAAAAAAA “they meant a lot to me dad. but they were in the past.” (richas)
THERE IT ALL GOES!!
(oops looks like lore spoiled into the main game)
water. it’s always FUCKIN WATER.
oh he’s leaving tilin? telling them not to wait for him, not to come for him.
oh okay lore over? but he didn’t die? welp lore over.
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three-drink-amy · 10 months
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤
Thank you for sharing this with me! This is going to be tough to choose.
Here are my 5:
Best Kept Secrets: (RWRB)
Henry is desperate to not go to his friend's wedding on his own, especially since his ex will be there. Pez sends out a post, asking for a fake boyfriend for Henry and the first person to reply is none other than Alex.
It was very fun writing a fake dating fic!
What Do I Know?: (RWRB)
After a bad accident, Alex finally wakes up from a week-long coma. His family and friends are so relieved until they find that he has memory loss, forgetting the last five plus years. For Henry, he's forgotten their entire relationship. How do they go forward when Alex still thinks he hates Henry, but Henry is wearing his wedding ring?
This one might be what got me my Angst Queen reputation. And honestly, rightfully so. But it’s still one of my faves almost 3 years after it finished posting.
Meet Your Match: (RWRB)
Alex had first learned about soulmarks when he was 10. June had just turned 13 and had woken up that morning with her soulmark. The two of them sat at the dinner table, in awe of the mark on her wrist. It was delicate and pretty. Three hearts intertwined like a triple infinity sign. Alex was almost envious. He wanted to know who his soulmate was so badly and he wouldn't get his mark for another 3 years.
I had wanted to write a soulmate AU and it finally came to me! I really love this one!
Aged Like a Fine Wine: (RWRB)
At a gala for the Okonjo Foundation, Senator Alex Claremont-Diaz runs into Prince Henry of Wales for the first time in two years. Something is different about him, and it's not just the revelations that came out the last time the two saw each other. When they're encouraged to spend more time together, it lights a spark that could send both of their lives into a tailspin. Will Alex resist the temptation or will he find the courage to pursue what he's wanted far longer than he's let himself acknowledge?
I wrote over 100k in (approx) 3-4 months because this story just excited me and kept me wanting to write. I reread parts of it recently and I’m still so proud of this one.
There’s Always Tomorrow: (911 LS)
Six months after his dad was killed, Carlos is still looking for answers. He spends most of his time dedicated to finding who did this. But there are unforeseen consequences to his search. And he and TK are about to find that out the hard way.
This idea would simply not leave my head. And I was really happy with how it turned out (despite how often I cried while writing it).
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greenhappyseed · 2 years
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BnHA Ch.353 - Review, parallels & comparisons
Note: I made a post here that explains which characters are at each battleground.
This one had SO MUCH packed into 17 pages! Let’s start with Shoto and Toya, since the chapter opens with them and wraps back around to them towards the end. Clearly, this fight took a lot out of them both. Toya doesn’t say a word, and we don’t get any insight into his mental processes. He’s just…frozen. Pupils gone, mouth stuck in what could be either a smile or a cry for help (or both). His chest seems to be covered in ice compared to the blackened, exposed muscle we saw in the last chapter. Then we have the humming, glowing orb in his chest. I’m pretty sure it’s him healing rather than exploding, and here’s why….
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When Nagant exploded, it didn’t start with an orb — it was cracks. Further, AFO had her burst because she had a change of heart. Likewise, when Star & Stripe caused quirks to explode out of Shigaraki, it was because New Order revolted against other quirks. There’s a fundamental mismatch between quirk and will. AFO even says as much in Ch.92 of Vigilantes; that villainy is an imbalance between quirk and will.
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Toya was born with everything to become a hero. He wanted to be a hero too, or at least, he wanted to be like his father, whose whole identity is based around being a strong hero. For Toya, becoming Dabi was the mismatch. Putting on the cold, standoffish personality was an act. In reality, Toya is loving, caring, and passionate. We’ve seen him caring about Twice, Toga, and even Shoto (in between trying to kill him). We saw Toya run home after waking from a coma. We saw him turn down AFO multiple times, including this chapter.
I don’t think Toya is developing an imbalance for AFO to exploit — he’s closing the gap between what he wants/needs and his quirk’s power. Shoto didn’t really “defeat” Dabi; instead, Shoto acknowledged that he saw and heard Toya. Shoto validated Toya’s grief and rage, and now the cracks can close. [ETA: I see lots of speculation that Toya will do a Prominence Burn because the orb is making the same noise Endeavor makes when prepping that move. However, it could also be Toya warming back up. As Ujiko said in Ch.350, heat is energy born of living things as they move and THRIVE.]
This is the part Spinner doesn’t understand. He looks at Toya and sees the person who had it all, which is almost exactly how Toya looked at Shoto. Spinner is shocked that Toya’s convictions would “fail,” to the point that Spinner thinks Dabi’s defeat is fake news. But Toya’s convictions didn’t fail. I’m not convinced his worldview changed at all, because his worldview wasn’t wrong. Toya needed to be seen and heard and cared for. And that’s what Shoto did — Shoto agreed with Toya and extended empathy from a hero to a villain.
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In the meantime, we see Spinner’s self-doubt and fatalism go into overdrive. He falls prey to AFO because he doesn’t have the inner drive or willpower to resist what AFO offers him. Spinner knows he’s not “a big messiah” and that the LOV is “past the point of no return,” and his only remaining loyalty is to Shigaraki. Spinner’s now fully on board with the mission to destroy it all and “demolish the system.” This is very different from Stain’s mission to establish a “more pure” hero system, so I think it’s (sadly) fair to say that AFO corrupted poor Spinner. I’m going to hold out hope that Shoji will reach him.
Speaking of reaching out, I really loved seeing Tsukauchi support All Might. It’s about time an adult was really truly there for him (although I’m still concerned AFO has his weird alien fingers clawed into Tsukauchi). Plus, the official translation makes their talk sound much more somber and less like a celebration, which sounded out of character, tonally. I also thought Tsukauchi turning the microphone over to All Might recalled Bakugo turning to Iida during 1A’s Deku retrieval.
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The leaks really made it sound like the heroes were launching a premature celebration, but I’m glad that’s not the case. I was happy to see Present Mic (YEEEEEAHH!) and Shoji protecting Central Hospital, with Mt Lady and Mina protecting Jakku. Both of those are key locations that AFO would obviously plan to attack so he could reclaim Kurogiri and Gigantomachia. That said, Kirishima’s entrance is a bit weird. I get that he was part of the vanguard appearing through the portals to push the villains into their pods, so he was in the parking lot. But unlike Shoto, who warped with Toya, Kirishima must have stayed back and then warped (?) to Jakku (???). I know that Kirishima and Mina have unfinished business with Gigantomachia, but given the chapter title “Endeavor,” I’m getting Kamino vibes because Kirishima has interacted or been placed near Endeavor twice in Kamino.
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Also, the new villain with Fatgum and Aoyama, Kunieda, mentioned Dictator, and Kirishima worked with Aoyama and Hagakure to secure Dictator in Kamino (after Momo and Shoto cuffed him).
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Man, I really hope Aoyama gets to use his belly button laser to mow down those flowers. I don’t know what kind of flowers they are, but they look like some kind of lily or amaryllis, maybe even venus flytrap flowers? A variation on Kunieda’s name can mean “country” + “branch”, so something like a nationalist with a plant/branch quirk makes sense. The flower stems are impaling the other heroes/villains, and I’m not sure that Fatgum’s quirk helps a whole lot, so BELLY BUTTON LASER, IT’S YOUR TIME TO SHINE!!!! TWINKLE AND THOOOOM AWAY!!!!
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As for “bat of Aesop,” it’s just an insult about how bats “play both sides” and don’t have convictions of their own. Here’s 2 fables involving the deceit of bats:
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Alright, now let’s talk Endeavor, because AFO pulls out a classic villain line: Heroes will lose, because they have too much to protect. AFO said the same against All Might; Nagant said the same against Deku when she made him choose between her and Overhaul. With All Might and Deku, the answer was, of course, protect everything (except yourself). AFO came to Kamino to take All Might’s image, pride, and spirit, then to kill him. AFO managed all but the last.
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Through Toya, AFO managed to take the same things from Endeavor — his facial scar, his public image, the joy of reaching #1. Interestingly, All Might countered AFO’s mind games like how Shoto neutralized Dabi. All Might agreed with AFO, saying yes, he had many things to protect. He told AFO to go ahead and expose his secret to the world. He admitted he wasn’t the best teacher. But then All Might used those “weaknesses” to explain that he can’t die here, because there’s still too much for him to do. Izuku, in particular, was All Might’s anchor encouraging him to live.
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That’s the part that makes me worry a bit about Endeavor here. He had a front row seat to watch All Might in Kamino, and to see All Might struggle afterwards. I hope Endeavor can use AFO’s barbs to motivate himself to keep fighting, because I want AFO to die and I want Endeavor to see Toya and Shoto together. (We know Toya still wants his father to see him, so in this particular case I’m not concerned about a victim being made to face their abuser, as was the case with Eri and Overhaul — plus Eri is a minor).
Will Endeavor rally and realize there’s still so much for him to do to as a father? Is Endeavor aware of how Shoto brought “down” his other son? Does Endeavor know there’s a chance Toya is healing? Or does he think he caused one son to rip apart the other? And…are crazy hand quirks the only surprises AFO has in store for Endeavor?
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blvvdcursd · 8 months
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task four ; time wait's for no one
tw: familial death
HOW have the new ministry happenings and the attacks during the time jump affected your character? 
It has made Astoria more nervous in a way - she still tries to be her happy go lucky self, but her smile will falter when she thinks no one is looking. but always trying to put her best foot forward and act like nothing is bothering her.
DID any of the disappearances or attacks involve someone your character knew? 
They were house-mates, classmates, friends. Somewhat. Astoria was deeply saddened by what has happened over the course of the year, she'll have a drink or two at any celebration for the people she's lost.
HOW did your muse react to the news that their classmates ( aster, cormac, flora, hestia, mori, and pansy ) were attacked? were they concerned to learn of aster’s coma? did they go to visit aster or cormac in st. mungos during the months they were there?
Astoria can't help her kindness towards people sometimes, especially towards those who have been hurt. She had visited both aster and cormac, at least once, to drop off a bouquet of flowers signed A.G, but has not seen them personally since then.
DID your muse have any connection to the carrow sisters? what was their reaction to flora and hestia’s tragic passing?
while not incredibly close, astoria knew of the carrow sisters, and had no problems with them - finding herself quite sad over the fact they had passed.
WHAT are some notable things that your character did over the time jump? any big events? did they have a birthday?
The Greengrass family unfortunately had to say goodbye to Lysa Greengrass, Astoria's down to earth, charming Aunt who also had the same blood curse as her; sombering Astoria to the harsh reality that she is, at the moment living on uncertain time. Truth is Astoria refuses to talk about how she feels and finds herself repeating 'I'm fine' at least five times a day.
WHAT did your muse do over the summer? 
During some of the attacks happening, Astoria, her mother and her older sister Daphne had spent time in their summer home for a week. she also up-hauled her entire wardrobe and dyed her hair, but her mother refuses to acknowledge that.
WHAT’S your character’s stance on werewolves now, after all of the happenings and attacks over the past year?
It's making it harder for Astoria to #livelaughlove in these conditions, but she's careful on what she says in public; swiftly changing topic to avoid the discussion - because Astoria has no idea.
WHAT was your character’s reaction to the news that dumbledore was missing? what about when it was revealed that he died?
Astoria was genuinely shocked and not much shocks her these days, so to have learned about his death a week later had shaken her to her core. knowing her parents didn't have much faith in the man, often catching them muttering about his useless business, but astoria didn't mind him.
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kerra-and-company · 2 years
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Gimme the ☕️ on Destiny's Edge! :3c
@mystery-salad
I was going to answer this yesterday and then my brain went for a run in the fog for a while, but I'm good today so let's do this! :D :3
(Note: I've read Edge of Destiny (for anyone who doesn't know, it's one of the supplementary GW2 novels that covers the formation and split of Destiny's Edge), so my opinion/thoughts here definitely take that book into account at least a little :) )
Destiny's Edge is honestly a story thing that I like a lot for the most part, in addition to enjoying the individual characters themselves. They're our mentors. They're our guides into the larger world outside of our homelands. They're our cautionary tale. They fight alongside us. And I wouldn't go so far as to add that they're our responsibility, but we do take on some responsibility re: helping the group reunite to fight Zhaitan.
The group dynamics are very fun and they each play off each other well, with various opinions (and baggage) that make them clash, too. The few interactions we get to see in the story--as well as the dungeons, which is probably the best place to go to see DE members interact--are fascinating to me, and you can get a good idea both of why they worked so well as a group during the time they were together and why the fallout from trying to take down Kralkatorrik split them apart so badly.
I wish we'd been able to see more of them working together after the PS, both because we worked so hard to bring them together and because I'd like to know what all of them were doing (though for some of them we can guess/get an idea), but that's (for the most part) a personal wish and not a story criticism.
Assorted thoughts on individual characters under the cut! I was trying not to go into that, but I got into a full-on ramble about Zojja on accident, so This Post Is Long Now xD
I have to mention Zojja and Snaff here, first of all. Both because Zojja is one of the DE members who's given a very short stick by the narrative and because we don't get to see much of Snaff in-game, only how he died.
Zojja and Snaff in Edge of Destiny very much have a student-teacher relationship, and they frequently banter back and forth, but they clearly care about each other. It's also very clear (and, iirc, is literally verbalized in the narrative out of Zojja's earshot) that despite how capable Zojja is, she's not really ready to strike out on her own. She's a student, she's learning, she wants to build something of her own but she's not quite there yet--and before she's ready, Logan leaves, they try to fight Kralkatorrik anyway, and Snaff dies.
And she's bitter. I was going to say she's the angriest of the group, but I'm not 100% certain that's true; Rytlock could fight for that title. I do think she's the most bitter, and very proud, and extremely upset, and she struggles with that a lot during the PS. She's still made a life for herself in Rata Sum, though--there's a Snaff Prize now! She mentors students! She's moved forward in some ways but is, emotionally, stuck in the same place. Seeing her move forward from that place, too, means a lot to me. I will forever be frustrated that she basically was written out of the story entirely in canon after HoT. Is she still in a coma? Did she die offscreen?? Did anet just forget she existed somehow??? (That last one's mostly a joke, but...geez.)
(Side note, I really liked Snaff in Edge of Destiny, and kept telling myself not to get attached because I knew he was going to die. Didn't work at All.)
Since I got myself on a roll, Eir's up next. (We know what happened to her, at least, but that bar is on the Ground.)
I really like her character a lot. She's a leader, and she's made tough decisions and continues to make them, and she's fought hard to make a legend for herself, and she blames herself maybe even more than Zojja blames her for what happened to Snaff, and she cares about Braham but also fully acknowledges that she never acted as his mother and that that was a choice she made, and...I could probably add a lot more "and"s. I think what I'm getting at here is that she's complex and I very much enjoy her complexities from both a character and narrative standpoint.
Ever since I played the norn PS, the fact that she (from what I remember) makes sure to caution the fledgling Commander against overconfidence more than anything else has stuck with me, too.
I struggle a lot with what to think of her death in canon. I dislike it because it feels at least a little like she was killed to develop other characters, and because I would have liked to see more of her. At the same time, she is a character whose death was (to some degree) given the appropriate narrative weight, and anet did take into account that this was a death that meant something--which may be another instance of "the bar is on the ground". Unsure.
Moving on to Caithe--the first mentor I ever met, while playing Kerra. (Also the first character in the game to give me an idea of the LGBT rep in GW2 :) I remember when I put together the pieces about who Faolain was to her and went, "Wait. Hold on, really??")
She's the one to call DE back together, to work to reunite them even though literally everyone else is at each others' throats, doesn't believe they could come back together, or both. She's a more solitary figure in a lot of ways, but her friends reuniting means enough to both her and the world (and her Wyld Hunt, also) that she fights Hard for that. She's been hurt in a myriad of different ways and manages to care a whole lot through her fear--for her friends, for the Commander, for Aurene, for the world. And she's made mistakes, and failed, and still keeps trying. And she's so much happier by EoD; look at the way she teases Taimi about Gorrik. I'm really proud of her.
The narrative hasn't always been great to her. The level of anger the canon Commander holds towards her throughout (and after) HoT is...a lot, and comes across as excessive in my eyes. (I think Marten (vampiricsheep) had some good points about this in its tea-take on HoT.) But I am pretty happy with where she is now.
We've got two more, 'cause I've committed now--Logan next! The golden boy who very much was not in that role for most of his life, and who fucked up by leaving DE to fight Kralkatorrik without him (and who can't stop hearing about it for the entirety of the PS xD).
He tries so hard to do the right thing, and absolutely does not always get that right. He managed to fall in love/infatuation with Jennah on sight and then listen to everything she tells him to do extra hard for a Very Long Time (and to a concerning degree). He's openly goofy on occasion (but draws the line at yelling "Pick me!" in the middle of a court hearing). He has the capability to be a leader, but doesn't see that for quite a while. He's not the one out of this bunch who's most fascinating/interesting to me, but I do like him.
He also actually wakes up from his blighting pod experience, so that's neat (and raises more questions about Zojja, but I digress). I think I said this a bit ago, but though I have Thoughts about what anet did to Trahearne in HoT (most of which are negative and have been said better by many others before me), with that as an "accepted" thing that happened, I don't mind Logan as Pact Marshal at all. It's a job that fits him, he seems to be more than capable of doing it, and from a character growth perspective, it lets him get away from Divinity's Reach and Jennah, which I think is good for him.
And last but not least, we have Rytlock Brimstone, the charr who is very attached to his fire sword.
Rytlock is a mess, in a lot of ways (which I say in a half-affectionate and half-derogatory sense, haha). I don't hate the guy, but I probably have the least amount of positive stuff to say about him out of all the DE members. I think it's in part because he's screwed up a Lot and Often, in ways that are both personally hurtful to individual characters and largely hurtful on a wider scale, and the narrative/anet brushes past it like it either didn't happen or wasn't a big deal, and that frustrates me. (The biggest instance of this is with regards to Balthazar in PoF, I think.) You (as in Fox, who asked me this question) have written a few things on the guy that I've seen and very much agree with.
Him being a mess does make him a fascinating character in some respects (to me, at least), and you can see that he has grown at least a little over the course of the storyline. I enjoyed some of what we got from him in Icebrood, too, like getting to learn a few more details about how he ended up with Sohothin in the first place. Again, not my favorite for a lot of reasons, and I don't think I'd get along well with him if we met in person, but as a character there's stuff I appreciate!
Aaaand on that note, I'm ending this post before it turns into too much of a full-on essay. (Assuming I haven't hit that point yet.) But there's my thoughts/tea on Destiny's Edge! If you got to this point, hope you enjoyed! :D xD
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watchingspnagain · 2 years
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Rewatching Dream a Little Dream of Me
Welcome to “Perchance to Dream!Dean: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!
  Up today, s3e10: Dream a Little Dream of Me
 After Bobby falls into a coma that seems to have no medical explanation, Sam and Dean work to recreate the case he was working on. Turns out Bobby is stuck inside his own mind, being tormented by nightmares controlled by Jeremy, the man he was hunting. The boys go in after him and are able to get him to wake up, but they still have to contend with the troubled young man who doesn’t want them to take away his ability to invade people’s dreams. Dean gets stuck in his own nightmare where he fights back against a version of himself who claims it’s Dean’s destiny to become a demon, and Sam finally dispatches Jeremy as parallels between Jeremy’s abusive father and John pile up. In the end, Dean brokenly admits to Sam that he doesn’t want to die or go to hell. Sam promises that they will find a way to save him.
 Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.
  [and we begin:]
  Lor:
 oooooh is this the one where Dean finally admits that he doesn't want to go to hell?
 Mace:
 maybe?
  Lor:
 tentative bounce
Mace:
 poor Bobby
  Lor:
 yeah
he sure does get stuck in his head a lot
 Mace:
 SNORK
  Lor:
 "you're drinking whiskey" "I drink whisky all the time" "no you don't"
oh Sammy
 Mace:
 RIGHT?!
poor SAM
  Lor:
 "how can you care so little about yourself"
 JOHN
the answer is JOHN
 Mace:
 “what’s wrong with you?”
 HAHAHA YES
  Lor:
 FRECKLES
 Mace:
 YES
  Lor:
 "extremely lame vacation" lololol
 Mace:
 “some sort of sign of…something”
  Lor:
 poor Pittsburgh
 Mace:
 right?
  Lor:
 aw Dean. putting it behind the clothes in the closet is not really peak covering up his tracks
 Mace:
 SNORK
  Lor:
 he's a loyal little bean
 Mace:
 he is
  Lor:
 if Dean Winchester comes round asking me questions, I am angling to spend as much time with him as possible, not trying to blow him off
 Mace:
 DEAN
 RIGHT?!
  Lor:
 "permanent record" HAAAAHAHAHAHA
 Mace:
 “look officer, I can tell you what I know, but it’ll need to be over burgers and shakes later tonight…”
  Lor:
 YES CORRECT
 is he lowering his voice while he's doing his interrogating?
 Mace:
 HA! Possibly
  Lor:
 ooooof Dean at Bobby's bedside
 Mace:
 yeah
  Lor:
 omg a hacky sack reference
 Mace:
 YES
  Lor:
 serious flashback to the soccer team boys wearing Dave Matthews Band shirts and kicking those around. they got SO MAD if you walked through their little circle
 Mace:
 HAHAHAHA OMG
 “how bad could it be?”
oh Dean
  Lor:
 RIGHT?
 he's a HUNTER, Dean
 CHIASMUS
 Mace:
 “crap. Bella?” “Bella? crap."
YAAAAASSSS
  Lor:
 YES
 I was just gonna say she always looks like she's not wearing anything under her coat HAAAAAHAHAHAHA
 Mace:
 SNORK
 HAHAHA OMG SAMMY
WHAT NO ONE NOTHING
  Lor:
 LOLOLOLOLOL
 "Brad Pitt?"
he always goes there
 Mace:
 oh DEAN WINCHESTER
 YEP I WONDER WHY
  Lor:
 Right? WHAT could be THE REASON?
 Mace:
 omg SAMMY
  Lor:
 lololol SAM. she's wearing clothes, hon
 Mace:
 a boy can hope
  Lor:
 omg Sam
 Mace:
 YAS
  Lor:
 and interesting that given their chemistry, it isn't Dean dreaming about her
 it's polyjuice potion!
 Mace:
 ESSENCE OF GOYLE
  HAHAHAHA OMG LOR
  Lor:
 HAAAAAHAHAHAHA MACE
 DON'T SEPARATE
 Mace:
 RIGHT?!
  Lor:
 why are they dumb?
if this were me, I'd be holding hands
 Mace:
 well that goes without saying
  Lor:
 LOL
YES
 daaaaw passed out boys
 Mace:
 YAS
 did they never wonder how Bobby became a hunter?
  Lor:
 admires the quick, effective way of establishing what we're seeing is in a dream after the commercial break
 no
 Mace:
 oooh yes!
  Lor:
 he's their dad. they haven't thought about him as a person he existed before them yet
 Mace:
 Very true
  Lor:
 mmmm pocket doors
love em
 Mace:
 my parents have those
  Lor:
 my grandparents had them in their house
 "everybody got into hunting somehow"
 Mace:
 oh Bobby
  Lor:
 YES
and Dean acknowledging the heartfelt thanks in the least way possible
 he looks like JOHN, Sam
 Mace:
 omg Dean’s FACE
 YES
  Lor:
 "aw, I dunno, it wasn't that dumb"
 YES
 "I was thirsty!"
 "you seem a little caffeinated"
 Mace:
 HAHAHAHA
  Lor:
 "don't yell at me, boy!"
 Mace:
 SNORK
  Lor:
 Dean's emotional dysregulation gets bad when he's sleep deprived, poor thing
 Mace:
 Same, Dean. Same.
  Lor:
 RIGHT?
 Mace:
 oh you chuckleheads
  Lor:
 "cause I don't want you digging around in my head" oh Dean
the way he looks at Sam
"stop looking at me like that"
 Mace:
 so the writers think pretty women inviting them to picnics is the be all and end all, then?
 YES
  Lor:
 it's so DOMESTIC
 Mace:
 YEP
  Lor:
 LOL I guess
I mean, I buy it for Dean
Sam not so much
 Mace:
 yeah
  Lor:
 dreams on TV are never anything like real dreams. mine anyway. like they don't WORK the same
 Mace:
 correct
 oh damn. this scene.
  Lor:
 "aren't you a handsome son of a gun"
 YES
  Lor:
 "how worthless you feel"
OOOOOOF
 Mace:
 RIGHT
  Lor:
 omg he keeps trying with the fingers
adorable
 Mace:
 YES
  Lor:
 oooo Dean thought dream!Dean was Jeremy and Sam thought Jeremy was Dean
 Mace:
 OOOOOOH
  Lor:
 I'm not sure you can survive that, actually? not dreaming for 15 years?
 Mace:
 yeah I’m pretty sure you can't
there’s an actual disorder like this but the people die way before that
  Lor:
 yeah, that's what I thought
I mean, on that TNG ep they all went unsurvivably insane in like 72 hours or something
 "look after your little brother, boy!"
 Mace:
 HAHAHA
 oooof yeah
  Lor:
 "Daddy's blunt little instrument"
 Mace:
 “daddy’s blunt little instrument"
  Lor:
 YES DEAN
 Mace:
 yoicks
  Lor:
 Speak this truth about John
 Mace:
 YAAS DEAN
 oh DEAN
  Lor:
 "I didn't deserve what he put on me and I don't deserve to go to hell!"
good, Dean, good! holds him
 "this is what you're going to become!"
 Mace:
 yes, but he’s still beating himself to a pulp
  Lor:
 ooooooof
 YEP
 "you answer me when I'm talking to you, boy!"
 Mace:
 oooof
  Lor:
 I could write a short paper on the use of the word "boy" in this ep
 Mace:
 oh poor Dean
  Lor:
 it's GOT to be intentionally paralleling what dream!Dean says John said to him
 yeah
 Mace:
 oh yeah
  Lor:
 I love how Bobby brings things up with the boys but doesn't badger them about it
 Mace:
 YEP
 NOT LITERALLY
  Lor:
 "you boys better check your pockets" "not literally" haaaaahahahaha
 Mace:
 HAHAHAHA
 “dammit boys"
  Lor:
 YES
 Mace:
 that’s Bobby’s side of the show right there
  Lor:
 YES
 oh Dean
why would we share anything with people who love us
 Mace:
 DEAN WINCHESTER YOUR PANTS ARE ON FIRE
  Lor:
 RIGHT
 "I've been doing some thinking. I don't wanna die. I don't wanna go to hell"
 "okay, good" HIS VOICE
 Mace:
 oh DEAN
oh honey
  Lor:
 THE SNAP AS THE FINAL SHOT
 Mace:
 YEP
  Lor:
 holds him
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bowloficecubes · 1 year
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Siren, Pt.5.
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<previous l masterlist l next>
TW: blood, surgery, bone mention, surgery.
" I swear they're alive" was, at least, a little comforting considering the sight in front of them. Selkie couldn't blame them for for getting that idea, after all, Siren was in his arms, unmoving eyes shut closed, covered in bandages and looking over all....disheveled, to say the least.
The medics appeared out of what seems like thin air, two carrying a stretcher. Selkie gently laid Amagai on the stretcher, delicately resting their neck last.
Shoji was the first to reach the stretcher, holding on immediately and asking the medics questions, "are they sleeping or did they faint", "there’s no way it's a coma, right?" The others were following them to the ambulance, keeping a close eye to hopefully catch a movement or a signal of consciousness.
"Only one person can come with the patient" said one of the medics as they were transporting Amagai to the ambulance bed, "I should come-" Shoji cut off Aizawa sensei mid-sentence. "I will come. Besides you should stay with the little girl" said he, pointing with one of his many arms to Gang Ocra who was bending down to hold the hand of a grey haired girl.
She looked terrified, and more noticeably, hurt. Her arms were covered in bandages, her bones were very prominent, her hair was matted and her frail body was shivering.
Before anyone would have a chance to register what was going on, Shoji rushed in and shut the ambulance's door; receiving an angry "tsk, that damn bitch". Eraserhead didn't even bother with Bakugo's profanities, he was already squatting down in front of the little girl, his previous angry, worried and fatherly demeanor was instantly masked by a soft, warm smile and a low voice. "Hello there, my name is Aizawa. What's yours?” the little girl shrunk and hid herself behind Gang Ocra. He leaned towards her and petted her head, "don't worry! Uncle Aizawa is very nice. He's Amagai's teacher!" the little girl perked up, but still only showed her face from behind the tall pro hero. "Where is Mr. mermaid? where did they take him?".
Bakugo, Todoroki and Jirou took a moment to guess what that meant, but Aizawa was faster than they were. "He is very very sleepy, so he's taking a nap. Do you want to go see him?" the girl hesitantly glances up to her shield, then nods after she receives a reassuring smile.
Aizawa stands up and points to his students "here are Mr. mermaids friends, this is Todoroki, this is Jirou and this is Bakugo" the girl nods in acknowledgment, still half hidden.
Jirou was the first to talk, squatting down to her height while still giving her space "Hello there! what's your name?" after a few seconds, a faint "Eri" is heard, "hello Eri-chan! would you like to come with us? we are going to get Mr. mermaid's stuff from the boat and then go where he is."
Her teacher was impressed by how professionally Jirou was handling the situation, she got Eri to warm up to her, she took her mind out of its panicked state, offered her options and clearly laid out what they were going to do.
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~Meanwhile, in the ambulance ~
Shoji was carefully observing the work of the medics with the eyes of an eagle. One was taking their blood pressure, one took a blood sample and was testing it with some reagents, and one was unwrapping the many bandages off of Amagai's legs.
Tw: blood, clear depiction of injury, panic attack.
"Ah Fuck"
Shoji felt the blood drain from his body at the sight, and soon, the pungent smell of iron that diffused through the air.
But when the medic wiped the hardened, oxidized blood, the true extent of the injury was revealed.
The movement from the ship to the ambulance must have loosened the stitches,
because right now, their right femur was definitely peeking through.
"The femoral vein is sliced in the right, I can’t tell but I believe saphenous vein is cut in both, HEY! " the medic shouted at the driver, who could hear from the mesh window separating the two parts of the vehicle, " contact ER, we need an orthopedic on standby stat, this is a critical care case".
"this is worse than I thought it'd be", said a faint whisper.
Well, fuck.
~~
Shoji thought the 15 minutes he spent shrunken in the corner of the ambulance, trying to up as least space as possible as the 3 medics bounced haphazardly to keep the condition "stable", his mask was soaked with the tears that never stopped, were the hardest of his life.
He was wrong, the next 3 hours and 7 minutes had been much, much worse. At least in the ambulance, his duplicate ears allowed him to catch the faint beat of a heart, but now, after being separated by a couple of white walls, he had no indication of hope other than a lit up red light above the door, indicating that the operation was in action. That there was still a soul in that body.
He abandoned the metal waiting chair long ago, instead sitting on the floor with his legs sprawled in-front, mask long abandoned, uncaring that he never allowed anyone to see his mouth ever since he was 10, he had to force every molecule of oxygen to enter his lungs. He couldn’t feel anything but the ice shoto formed as he gripped his wrist furiously. he was grateful, really, for something that prevented him from fully losing his sanity.
Todoroki was silently shedding tears, a little pool formed at the hem of his shirt as they refused to stop. He had a tight grip on Shoji while his other arm was wrapped around the blond's waist, who was holding onto his shirt and hiding his face in the crook of Shoto's neck, muttering prayers.
Aizawa left Eri with Jirou in the pediatric wing, getting a full body checkup, he lied to Jirou, downplaying the surgery to just simply restitching the wounds. it was necessary. he thinks.
A staff member, probably not a nurse considering his business casual attire, came to the four of them, holding a clipboard in hand and asking in a snarky voice : "Hello, I am here to ask for information about the patient, for starters, can I have the guardian contact information? There’s a bit of paperwork I need to send."
"what kind of paperwork?" asked Todoroki, clearly annoyed with the inappropriate time for asking.
"An outline of the surgery, the medical reports and the needed care post op, as well as the surgery bill, since this is an operation not listed under health insurance."
"They are an emancipated minor, there’s no one to send crap to" spoke shoji, voice laced with venom.
" and that wouldn’t be necessary, I will handle the papers, and the costs will be covered by the hero commission, under the name of Siren", their teacher's eyes were glowing red, visibly irritated by the conversation.
"Th- this is a hero? oh sorry I- no one informed me, we don’t usually see heroes 'round here hahah"
"this was the closest hospital to the harbor." and with that, the man felt too scared to hang around any longer, just muttered a few yeah's before dashing out.
The teacher sat across the 3 students, his irritation slowly being replaced with feeling like a failure. As a teacher, as their mentor, even as their role model. He should’ve said no that day. If Ryukyu and Selkie failed to capture them, then it was obviously risky to send his student, barely 15, to such a mission. His train of thoughts was cut short by Bakugo's voice, coming off a lot shakier than his usual confidant tone "so Siren is an official hero now?"
Aizawa sighed, still too ashamed to look them in the eyes, so he leaned his elbows on his knees and hid his face in his hands, "well, since The hero commission assigned Selkie and gave him the liberty of picking teammates, and Selkie asked for Gang Ocra and Siren, and Siren was under Gang Ocra for their work study, in which they have the right to use their quirk, and quite frankly, with the huge contribution they had to the mission, they are technically a hero, or at least they have the privileges of a hero in this mission. Missions like these, that require very specific candidates, are peculiar, and the hero commission doesn’t have a set of rules for them, they treat each one individually, and obviously, Siren was approved. As a hero."
After the muffled hmph he got back in reply, the hallway was solemn quiet.
that was until the light flashed off, and the door opened.
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itsanotheridiot · 2 years
Text
Honestly after seeing Vol II ST4 wasn’t that good HEAR ME OUT btw ima be talking abt writing choices and the possible queerbaiting OBVIOUSLY SPOILERS AHEAD
First let’s start with the queer baiting B*ler it been revealed to us that Will is gay after his speech to Mike abt how Mike the heart of the party. Literally if you go re-listen to Will’s speech and replace everytime he said “El” or “her” with “I’m” or “I” honestly still has the same emotional value hell probably more since Will would be admitting his feeling WE AS A AUDIENCE can even tell Will talking abt himself but in the end Will is there just to uplift M*eleven in the end.
Next Robin and Vickie they felt like a cheap shot at getting praise for trying for LGBT+ rep I mean Vickie have like what 5mins of screen time and I’m supposed to care for them but at least they left the two on a good note.
I know there are some who are going to say “BuT ItS tHe 80s” honestly go fuck yourself the whole point of this show is being a outcast and finding other outcast to make a found family of so the chance of a few characters in the gang being queer is a likely possibility
Now I wanna talk abt the shitty writing because Vol I by it self looks amazing but now seeing the ending I’m disappointed. Focusing on Max’s storyline this season we can tell it abt depression and suicide basically mental health in general just looking at “Dear Billy” it holds a GREAT message abt not letting depression take control of you and over coming it but accepting the support from those who love you. It was a powerful prefect message then you watch the finale and Max fuckin dies loses her eyes and have 3/4 of her bones snapped only to get resurrected and put in a goddamn coma it took away the message for “Dear Billy”
But I will admit the writing did have some good choices like acknowledging that Johnathan and Will hasn’t been as close as they used too or Steve admitting he has improved as a person after Nancy dumped him.
Idk I just needed to get some of this off my chest honestly add to this is you want or give me your opinion I would love to hear what anyone has to say abt this
-Rainy
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nbmsports · 10 months
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Alcohol Poisonings Rise in Iran as Bootleggers Defy Ban
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When a renowned Iranian artist hosted friends at his apartment in Tehran last month, he served, as he did often, a bottle of homemade aragh, a traditional Iranian vodka distilled from raisins, that he had secured from a trusted dealer.His guests and his partner did not drink that evening, so he raised shot glasses to them and drank alone.Within a few hours, the artist, Khosrow Hassanzadeh, 60, felt his vision blur. By the next morning, his sight was gone, he was delirious and short of breath. He was rushed to a hospital, where doctors diagnosed him with methanol poisoning from the aragh, according to his partner, Shahrzad Afrashteh.Mr. Hassanzadeh fell into a coma that night and died two weeks later, on July 2. His death, from something as innocuous as having drinks with friends, shocked and infuriated many Iranians who have found ways around the Islamic Republic’s longstanding ban on the sale and consumption of alcohol, which is punishable by a penalty of up to 80 lashes and fines.Rather than stopping drinking, the ban over time has led to a flourishing and dangerous bootleg market. In the past three months, a wave of alcohol poisonings has spread across Iranian towns big and small, with an average of about 10 cases per day of hospitalizations and deaths, according to official tallies in local news reports.The culprit is methanol, found in homemade distilled alcohol and counterfeit brand bottles, apparently circulating widely, according to Iranian media reports and interviews with Iranians who drink, sell and make alcohol.To many Iranians, the deaths are an example of how the Islamic Republic’s religious rules oppress ordinary citizens and meddle in their personal lives.“Khosrow was taken from us because of the lack of social freedoms. It was you who took Khosrow from us,” Nasser Teymourpour, a fellow artist, wrote on Twitter, blaming the government for the alcohol-related deaths.Iran is still reeling from a nearly yearlong uprising against the rule of the Islamic Republic, which erupted after a 22-year-old woman, Mahsa Amini, died in the custody of morality police on accusations that she violated a strict religious law requiring women to cover their hair and bodies. Many Iranian women are now defying the hijab rule and appearing in public with their hair showing.After Mr. Hassanzadeh’s death, a collective of artists and writers in exile issued a statement saying that he was, “without a doubt, a victim of religious authoritarianism.” At his funeral, his partner screamed, “Don’t ever forget that they killed him.”“Khosrow spent his entire life trying to preserve in his art certain ideals, rituals and lives of ordinary people in Iran. Drinking aragh is very much part of the socializing culture here,” said his partner, Ms. Afrashteh, in a telephone interview from Tehran, Iran’s capital. “It feels as if he was killed while practicing his own art. Now you can’t even have a drink without fear in Iran.”The clerical rulers who took power after the 1979 revolution, instituting a theocracy, banned the consumption and selling of alcohol in accordance with Islamic rules prohibiting intoxication. Religious minorities are exempt. Over the decades, reports of methanol contaminations occasionally surfaced, but not in the scope and frequency seen in recent months.Even officials are now publicly acknowledging that the problem has escalated. Mehdi Forouzesh, Tehran’s chief coroner, said in a news conference in June that the number of hospitalizations and deaths from methanol poisoning had sharply risen. In only Tehran, he said, it had climbed by 36.8 percent since the beginning of March.From the beginning of May until July 3, at least 309 people had been hospitalized and 31 had died from methanol poisoning, according to Iranian news reports. But the real number is likely much higher because many cases go unreported out of fear of retribution for breaking the law.At least one lawmaker recently called for government action to prevent deaths. Abbas Masjedi Arani, the head of Iran’s Forensic Medicine Organization, said last month that 644 people had died in 2022 from alcohol poisoning, a 30 percent rise from the previous year. Many victims permanently lost their eyesight.The reason for the latest sharp increase in alcohol contaminations remains unclear.“I don’t believe that some dealers have suddenly decided to kill their customers all at the same time,” said an alcohol producer and seller in Tehran who goes by Soheil, defending his trade despite the recent contaminations.“Dealing and making homemade alcohol is already very risky in Iran,” he said. “Nobody wants to harm their clients and their business.” Dealers, if caught, could face jail, with their inventory confiscated or destroyed.The authorities have attributed the increase in poisonings to reasons like the use of industrial-level alcohol in drinks, sloppy production, the greed of producers and a disregard for safety in search of a quick profit.Many Iranians love to drink, and nothing has dissuaded them from a tradition deeply rooted in ancient Persian culture. Homemade alcohol and imported bottles of liquor flow freely at many parties, weddings and social gatherings. Some upscale restaurants secretly serve patrons vodka in pots of tea.“Drinking alcohol has become a form of escape from our difficult circumstances and a way for us to experience some fun,” said Nina, 39, who like many interviewed in Iran asked that her last name not be used for fear of retribution. She said that the crisis of contaminations required proper oversight, but that she had little hope that the government would reverse course.Some Iranians have turned to making their own liquor. Mostafa, 34, said he taught himself how to distill alcohol by watching videos on the internet because he was scared of buying the bootleg kind. He bought machinery for distilling rose water, took over a friend’s empty kitchen and began making aragh.The police have discovered underground distilleries in a veterinary clinic, a roadside shack, a deodorant factory and abandoned warehouses. The business of bottled liquor can involve underground operations that pay scavengers to collect vodka and whiskey bottles from the trash to be filled with bootleg alcohol and sold as imported brand labels, according to interviews and media reports.Experts say it is nearly impossible for an average consumer to detect deadly methanol, which does not smell or taste different from ethanol, in a drink. Home distillation increases the risk of methanol poisoning, they say, if the process is not carefully and properly executed.Some Iranians shrug at the risks and down the shots. Others weigh their choices carefully, opting for one type of alcohol over another.The choices can carry dire consequences. At a New Year’s party in Tabriz, a 49-year-old man named Majid drank whiskey that he thought was imported; within a few minutes, he was screaming in pain, and he died a few days later, according to his family. A man in Shiraz drank homemade aragh and became permanently blind.Mr. Hassanzadeh, the artist, did not trust the bootleg brand bottles and preferred homemade aragh, relying on a dealer he trusted, his partner said. Friends have tried to contact the dealer, but he has not answered his phone. Someone spotted him at Mr. Hassanzadeh’s funeral. Source link Read the full article
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starbuckaroo · 11 months
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I watched/rewatched 6.10&6.11 and I felt like I was watching some kind of freaky nightmare alternate reality version of this show even before the coma buck schtick.
And it ties in with the one scene in 6A that still gets under my skin and still feels unearned and unforgivable: the phone call between Eddie and Ramón.
So far s6 seems to be the season of OOC abusive parents, abused children being coerced one way or another to invite said parents back into their lives, and in 2/3 cases fairly specifically because of the grandchildren involved.
My mom said of 6.10&6.11 “it feels like an abused child’s warped fantasy of reconciliation, like if I finally just apologize or say or do the right thing, my parents will suddenly change and love me the way they’re supposed to/I’ve always wanted” and she was right. And it’s fucked up.
Listen, I’m in my thirties, I come from a multigenerational line of abused children, many of whom are also abusers, and I understand decently well that 1) change and growth are possible, 2) reconciliation and moving on are possible and even desirable in some cases and 3) every family is different and the dynamics involved are complex and have a big impact on why people make the choices they do regarding contact with abusive/harmful relatives (esp parents).
AND I also know that for me, a hard and unshakeable foundation of this is that the person who caused the harm needs to AT THE VERY LEAST acknowledge the harm, and preferably also express remorse and make some sort of apology. I know many times those apologies aren’t actually very good, or satisfying, but being validated that you were hurt is a huge and necessary step that has to happen BEFORE you can move into reconciliation, into building bridges and new relationship foundations. Sometimes they don’t give a very good apology, but the fact that they know they hurt you and are going to put forth some sort of effort not to do it again is enough to have contact. What you’re willing to adjust your boundaries about is a personal and situational thing.
This IS related to 911 because this show is fucking atrocious at this and I personal find it incredibly upsetting and given the way they dealt with s6 it’s tipped over into being triggering for me. So yeah I know I’m having a bit of an overreaction, but I haven’t seen anyone discussing this and so here I am.
Bc listen, in s4 when the Buckley parents show up at the fire house, they never actually apologize for the way they hurt Buck. They make excuses for their behavior but that’s not even in the realm of the same thing.
And look! That’s what they did with Abby as well!! She shows up in s3 and wants to see Buck and yet??? does she EVER actually apologize for ghosting him? No! She just makes excuses. It’s fucking gross. But that’s okay! Neither Abby nor the Buckley parents needed to be in Buck’s life! The show was fairly clear about that, and so the fact that those people did him wrong was just a Thing that Happened, but Buck had his chosen family and his career he was building and he made meaning there.
But enter s6, when suddenly the Buckley parents have been replaced by pod people WITH NO EXPLANATION????? And it visibly disturbs all of them, Maddie and Chim and Buck. All three of them *expect* more shitty behavior and when it doesn’t happen, they get confused. And later on Buck even says something along the lines of “oh they definitely didn’t approve [of the sperm donor thing], but they wanted to save face/have the upper hand against Mr. Han.” So he’s aware of it??
And yet. Man. What am I missing? Because the takeaway from his coma was that he what??? Says “I know you did the best you could and I love you anyways”????? and sure that’s what he says to his parents in his head but that by itself is fucking weird. But then after that he just…lets them come into his apartment and play act at being interested in his life, redecorate, Watch The Game, etc.
God it was so strange and out of character and just. It was just freaky.
It’s how I feel about the phone call between Eddie and Ramón in 6A. NOT because I’m against Eddie having some reconciliation with his father, or against him trying to rebuild something. But the fact is that the big talk he had with Ramón at the end of s5? They just addressed Eddie’s childhood, they didn’t go anywhere near any of the hurtful things that he and Helena said and did to Eddie as an adult!! When the issue was not longer about Ramón being absent, but was about them disapproving of his choices (wrt Shannon and then Chris) and actively trying to change the way he parents or take away his parental rights altogether.
And so what gets me so fuckin riled up about the phone call is that Eddie doesn’t just call to check in, or have a heart to heart or whatever to establish that he’s been working on things with his dad. No. He fucking calls his father to ask for PARENTING ADVICE.
Like no no no sorry no, it’s like a fucking fundamental character trait of Eddie’s, that he is a very protective and caring, loving father. He doesn’t always know what to do or how to achieve what he wants for Chris, but one of my favorite things about him were the hard fucking boundaries he set with his parents regarding Chris! They said “don’t drag him down with you” and in response, he fucking moved out of state because he recognized the threat! And I’m now actually fully vindicated with that because at least from Buck’s coma perspective, Eddie could have ended up in a nasty custody battle and lost! He was fucking RIGHT to put up those boundaries!
So having the very first convo we get to see between Eddie and Ramón be a request for help with Chris? It felt out of character and regressive and toxic.
I just feel like this season, the show can’t decide if it’s more important to “let” children have relationships with their blood relatives because what??? they’re “supposed” to???????
Or if they’re gonna keep going with the foundation they’ve built for all their characters over the last five fucking seasons, emphasizing the importance of chosen family, of putting in the work, of being in the mess with those you love and putting things back together as a team, of showing your care and respect for your loved ones by seeing them for who they are and loving and appreciating them where they’re at!
Like….you can’t actually have both those things, not unless those blood relatives accept the yoke of the chosen family rules and learn some humility and respect of their own. And this show is 0 for 3 when it comes to parents acknowledging the ways they’ve hurt their children RECENTLY. Like I’m NOT EVEN TALKING ABOUT ANY TRAUMA OR ABUSE THEY ENDURED AS CHILDREN. All three of Eddie, Chim and Buck have had terrible things said and/or done to them by their parents as adults ON THE SHOW. Where the FUCK are their apologies for that???
My only concession here is that esp w Chim’s dad (and to a smaller extent w Eddie’s dad) there are cross cultural complexities that I don’t fully grasp and can’t speak to. I still don’t think a small acknowledgement of the hurt caused is too much to expect, but I also admit to not knowing enough to say for sure. At least with Chim, he had on the one hand Hen encouraging him to talk to his dad FOR HIMSELF, to help himself get some closure, NOT as an attempt at reconciliation necessarily, bc she recognized that Chim can’t control how his dad responds, but as a step forward towards any kind of future with any number of different possibilities (she did NOT push him to do so for Jee’s sake, which I think is an important detail to remember); and on the other hand Chim also had Albert to deal with, which imho wasn’t dealt with very well, but IS a realistic complexity within families, particularly when siblings are either very far apart in age and/or have only one parent in common. Albert’s experience of their father was fundamentally different than Chim’s, and that was addressed in an earlier episode even! And so I think it was shitty but at least believable and in character for Albert to be a little manipulative like that and show up w his parents and pressure Chim into reconciliation. I’ve literally seen that happen within my own family. So like, as much as Chim shouldn’t have had to deal w that, his storyline was the most realistic/believable.
But like. Listen. With Chim and Maddie, and with Eddie; the thing I do NOT understand is that all three of them were hurt by their parents…what about that experience makes them feel like either their parents are owed a relationship with their child, or that their child should have or needs to have their blood relation grandparents in their lives???? Make it make sense!!! Jee already HAS grandparents with the Lees! (And lbr Chris very nearly has g-pa Bobby)
I just. These competing messages are fucking with me and they completely soured the lightning strike/coma buck storylines for me. Maybe I’ll feel differently later, maybe not. I spent the entire hiatus trying to get over the Eddie and Ramón phone call and didn’t manage it. It’s a very personal and very serious issue for me, and like. Listen…if my mom hadn’t protected me from her parents, if I had had to have forced interactions with them like that…I almost certainly would have been abused as a small child by one if not both of my grandparents. And they might have fought for custody of me, and they might have won, given that my mom was a single parent. This shit is very real! And like, I am also fully aware of how my mom has worked to have some semblance of a relationship with her mother, though it took a couple decades, but she has also never once attempted to communicate with her father. Like there’s forgiveness, and then there’s recklessness. And I’m not saying that the elder generation on 911 has done any of the same types of abuses that happened in my family, but I am saying that any type of abuse SHOULD warrant caution, and boundaries, and these characters have come far enough to demonstrate a tiny amount of fucking self-respect enough to demand some show of remorse and acknowledgment of wrongdoing! And they didn’t get any of that! It’s fucked!!!!!
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Back to the 118 // Evan Buckley
IN WHICH: Buck meets the firefighter he replaced as the reader transfers back to the 118. The reader never expected to fall for a co-worker the first day back at the 118 after two years spent at the 155 in Los Feliz.
Warnings: Swearing, sickness, hospitals, health issues, pregnancy, angst and a shit ton of fluff
Words: 5.9k
A/N: So this is obviously a modern au for jatp to fit in the 911 universe. To make this work, Buck replaced Reader instead of Tommy after many failed probies. Eddie then later replaced Tommy.
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Your e/c eyes scanned the outward appearance of the first firehouse you’d worked at fresh out of the Academy. The place that had become a second home from the increased tension-filled house your parents still lived in. A place you had escaped as quickly as you could for a dream career. A career your parents hadn’t been proud of in the beginning, with the danger that came with being a firefighter paramedic.
“You the new recruit?”
Your eyes fell from the building to the male individual standing near the open bay the engine and ladder truck both used. The male in question must have joined the 118 after you transferred to the 155. The stranger towered at least six feet minimum with blue eyes and short blonde hair with the slightest wave.
“No-”
“Flint!” The excited voice of the only other female paramedic called out. You only saw dark navy before you were pretty much tackled.
Hen and Chimney had equally taken you under their wings when you initially joined as a rookie. You’d been the second female firefighter-paramedic at the 118 and the youngest by far. As if you’d summoned him, you felt the arms of Chimney sandwich you against Hen.
“Flint?” The stranger parroted, blinking his eyes at the rather unusual scene of Chimney and Hen wrapped around an unknown girl.
“What are you doing here?” Chimney questioned, stepping back. Hen scoured your entire form for any differences that had occurred.
“Y/N decided to come home,” Bobby spoke from a few feet behind the reunion with the beaming smile on his features. His lips pulled into a smile directed at the first recruit he’d taken on his first year at the 118.
“Bobby!” You grinned, meeting the father figure in the middle of the distance between you two. Bobby wrapped you up in his arms tightly, a certain lightness cocooning the Captain as he took in his friends.
“You’re back here?”
“Everything is squared back at home now, thankfully, and while I loved working with the 155, it wasn’t home. This will always be home.”
“Buck, this is Y/N Patterson. She worked her first two years with the 118 before transferring to the 155 in Los Feliz. Y/N, this is one of our newest members, Evan Buckley.” Bobby gestured towards the previously nameless firefighter.
“Who would leave the 118?” Buck questioned, unable to come up with a valid reason to leave the family at 118.
Buck’s opinion didn’t stand with his only workplace after successfully becoming a firefighter solely was the 118. Never had he worked in another firehouse. He’d been a fire marshall and volunteered his time in the Austin wildfire, but he always came home to the 118.
“Family issues.”
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2018, Firehouse 118, Los Angeles
A fresh-faced, albeit dirty from sweat and soot, jumped down from the engine truck’s high steps. The synchronized slam of doors sounded from your colleagues and friends Hen and Chimney. All three individuals famished for the casserole Bobby had premade during the slow morning.
“Baked Mac n’ Cheese.” Tommy breathed from his position by the driver side. Tommy Kinard was a stoic man towering over six feet. He was always a gentle giant after you’d bonded after a hard call.
“Clean up, and I’ll have it in the oven. It’s Chimney’s time to make the salad and Flint’s turn to set the table.” Bobby spoke with barely a glance to the ground ahead of him. 
Your Captain jogged towards the stairs, whereas his team made their way to the locker rooms for a well-deserved shower. You and Hen split away from Tommy and Chimney to the women’s locker room that had gotten an upgrade.
Well, before you joined the Academy, the locker room had been used as a glorified game room, all thanks to the misogynist Captain from hell. Hen often had over the years mentioned how lucky you got with Bobby being your first Captain.
“Chimney better not put those onions like he did last time.” You spoke from under the stream of warm water. Nothing beat the warmth of a shower near the end of your shift erasing the evidence of your job.
“Man needs to learn the complimentary salad to the main dish.” Hen piped up from across the shower room.
You and Hen had both showered and redressed in a fresh uniform in under five minutes, the dirty one placed in a laundry bag. You’d managed to beat the boys to the upstairs by a few seconds. Enough to set half of the able before Chimney began to making his salad of choice.
“Looks great, Cap.” Tommy complimented the gooey homemade pasta Bobby religious made every third Thursday. He alternated between pasta recipes with the odd new recipe every once in a while.
“What are you waiting for? The bell?” Bobby quipped to the unmoving bunch of hungry individuals. His words started the boisterous meal time preceding the end of shift.
“So, we’re halfway through dinner and Amber-” Your phone interrupted the disaster date Tommy had begun telling. He continued as soon as you waved him to go ahead while you took the call.
“Hello?” You breathed into the phone.
“Hi, sweetheart.” The warmth infused in your mom’s voice soothed the ruffled feathers from the call you’d come back from, “How are you?”
“I’m good! We just finished eating. My shift is almost over, and I’ll have to go straight to the store for groceries-”
“Y/N, we found him.”
The him was easy to figure out given your brother had run away from home three months prior with only his dreams in mind. You’d spent most of your off time, sometimes even during shift out on a call, to scan the environment for Luke. You became a regular in questioning hospitals and homeless shelters.
“Where was he?”
“His band had been about to play at some big venue last night.” Mom’s word choice concerned you. Her voice dripped with sadness instead of the typical disappointment and annoyance on anything to do with Sunset Curve.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“A few nights ago, the boys got hotdogs-”
“Streetdogs.” You interrupted with evident anger in your tone at the mention of those death dogs Luke consumed. You can’t even give a number to how many times you had told him how unsanitary and dangerous the food is.
“Something was wrong with the food. They got ill fast. Alex and Reggie are being kept for observation but will be found with a few days of rest.”
“What about Luke?”
“He tried to call 911; he was weak and fell. Y/N, he hit his head. He’s in the ICU in a coma.” Emily Patterson’s voice cracked as soon as she acknowledged the current state of her youngest child.
The colours of the world dulled as soon as your mind clicked that Luke was in the hospital. Your little brother had put himself in danger all because he had a big dream. Your mind flashed through your life growing up with him.
You remembered talking to your mom’s growing bump when she was pregnant with Luke. You remembered five-year-old Luke unable to settle unless you sang to him. Your voice was nothing special, but it soothed the little boy when he had a nightmare. You could vividly recall teaching Luke how to play the guitar when he was thirteen; the brunette a complete natural at it.
“What’s his prognosis?”
“Too early to tell. The doctor is hoping Luke will be in a general room after tomorrow if the swelling goes down. I wanted you to know as soon as possible.”
“How’s Dad?”
Emily hesitated from her position by a hospital bed. Her brown eyes carefully scanning the male sleeping soundly in the bed.
“Mom?”
“Your father had a heart attack last night. That’s why I haven’t been able to tell you sooner. He’s currently sleeping, but he’ll have a barrage of tests later today-”
“I’ll be there as soon as my shif-”
“No. Don’t drop anything. I can keep you up.”
“Excuse my language, but there’s no way in hell I’m staying away from my family. I’ll take a few days off. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Your thumb tapped the red circle on the bottom of your screen.
The 118 didn’t bother pretending they hadn’t been watching your form during your phone call. Bobby felt like something had drastically changed in a few minutes you’d been busy on the phone.
“Everything okay?” Bobby inquired from his position at the kitchen sink. His hands in the sudsy water to scrub the empty pan.
“My brother and my father are in hospital. I’m gonna need some days off.” You informed your boss with a look of utter defeat coating your expression.
Those few days transitioned to transferring to the closest firehouse to your childhood home and the hospital. The medical bills from both your brother and father had begun to overwhelm your mother with the current single source of income. Emily didn’t ask you for anything, but you started renting the home you’d bought for extra money.
It was a silent agreement that you paid rent as a cover to helping with the bills piling up.
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Present Day, Firehouse 118
Buck followed behind the welcoming group to the girl that seemed larger than life. Buck was impressed by the sacrifice you’d made for the good of your family. You’d willingly given up the family of the 118. Buck didn’t know if he could do the same.
“Welcome back.” Hen cheered on her guidance to the heaven everyone called the kitchen. Your department issue duffle bag dropped out of the wall on the top level.
Your eyes zeroed in on the spread of your favourite foods prepared by the only person aware of your return. It was only one look of gratitude towards the father figure before everyone dug in.
A few changes had occurred since you’d last sat at this table. Tommy Kinard had left the 118 for the 217 shortly after your departure. He’d been replaced by the ready to impress Buck. One thing that hadn’t changed was the delicious food Bobby made.
Your eyes found the sole empty chair at the long table, “Didn’t you say the house took on two new recruits since I left?”
“Buck took your position when you left. We had a revolving door of firefighters before Buck permanently joined.” Chimney supplied with a mouth full of lettuce and grated carrot. Hen whacked his arm for his lack of manners.
“You’ll meet Eddie on the next shift. He took the day off. It’s his son’s first birthday since his mom died.” Bobby informed you with that pinched wrinkle between his eyebrows, “He joined after Tommy left.”
“Well, I can’t wait to meet the entire team.” You replied, looking past to the circular table behind Bobby’s spot. Sam and Ryan both waved happily upon catching sight of you back at your unspoken seat.
You listened intently as Hen shared the changes Denny had gone through in the time you’d been away. Chimney was ecstatic to point out the faint scar on his forehead.
“You had rebar go through your skull, and you’re completely fine?” You questioned, floored by the pure luck Chimney had.
“Oh, it was nasty. Went in from the back of the skull to the front.” Buck spoke enthusiastically, recounting the scene. Chimney deadpanned a look at his younger coworker, “Oh, sorry.”
“It’s like you never had it happen.”
“Doc was shocked at how positive the outcome and healing was. I was back at work within a month on light duty. I beat my record getting in my turnout gear.” 
“And yet my little brother was comatose for two months.” You grumbled under your breath. None of the people could make out the words, but the grimace on your face was enough to show them it was personal.
In true 118 fashion, the bell rang throughout the firehouse with the disembodied voice declaring the type and location. Yoru e/c eyes found Buck climbing into the driver’s seat where Tommy had once commandeered. It was odd not having the man who’d became an older brother to you.
“How’re your parents?” Hen questioned, sitting diagonally from you. Her fingers repositioning the radio on her chest.
“Dad’s recovering pretty good. Mom’s started attending her knitting club again.” 
Buck’s eyes raised to the rearview mirror to meet yours in interest, “What happened?”
“Uh...my dad had a heart attack a couple years ago. He took a long time to recover with the further stress that caused it.” You piped up, understanding the news would come out at some point, “My little brother was in an accident that left him in a coma. Life was just as messy after he woke up.”
“He’s okay?” Chimney questioned, “I know we’ve never met them, but it really gutted you.”
“Well, physically, he’s fine, but emotionally he’s upset. He was in a band, and when he came out of the coma, he found out some devastating news.” You continued to explain, but unfortunately, or maybe, fortunately, you’d come to the scene.
It was a little known place most teenagers discovered as a hang out spot just on the edge between your county and the next. The location was the infamous spot of cliff jumping; you knew because this was something you’d recklessly done in high school.
“He’s over here!” A blonde male of average height called from the edge of the cliff. His blue eyes were bright even from this distance, matching the detailing on his swim trunks.
Surrounding the edge with the boy was a group of teenagers his age, all in different versions of swimsuits. You found the scared brown eyes of a beautiful girl you vaguely knew from the few shows of Sunset Curve you had watched. Her dark blonde hair plaited out of her face. Her face clicked as Carrie Wilson, Bobby’s sister or cousin.
You jogged towards the edge of the cliff to look over. It was easily between fifteen to twenty feet from the edge of the cliff to the water. You recognized Hen crouching by your side, looking at what you were looking at.
On the rocks was a prone body of a teenage male with bruises already forming on his face from where you could see. His thick shoulder-length hair laid still half in the ponytail and around his head.
“Head trauma.” You murmured to Hen, scanning from a distance, “I can’t tell much from this height and angle.”
“Either a broken tibia or fibula. Spinal injury is definitely a concern.”
“Okay, his name is Willie Young. He’s eighteen years old. His sister Kayla was dared to jump off by doing some kind of flip. Willie took her dare and didn’t jump far enough or tripped over a rock.” Bobby listed having been talking with the group of teenagers all shook up.
“I can rappel-” Buck began to speak before you cut him off firmly.
“It would take too long, and the angle is difficult. Nobody rappels down it; the cliff isn’t stable enough. It crumbles pretty easy, and the unofficial name of this cliff is Devil’s Dive.” Your eyes found Carrie’s tear-filled once and the utter devastation in who you pegged as Kayla.
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’ve jumped off this cliff for years as a teenager. You’re looking at the resident champion of self reckless endangerment at Devil’s Dive.” 
Hen, Chimney and Bobby each stared, shocked at your revelation of stupid teenager decisions.
“Then how are we gonna get down there,” Buck questioned, staring at the unconscious teenager lying on the rocks.
“Easy, I can jump from here into the water and climb onto the rocks to where Willie is. I have the experience of how and where to jump safely.” You spoke to your Captain with complete confidence in your abilities, “You can lower down the kit, radio and backboard by a rope. There’s a mansion beyond the trees that you can ask to borrow a boat from the owner. He’s eccentric and questionable but nice enough.”
Bobby nodded his head to your plan. You unbuttoned your uniform shirt to strip down to the department t-shirt with the emblem on your chest and across your back. You kept the boots and emptied your pockets of anything. The butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the height of the cliff you hadn’t jumped from in years.
“I’ll jump where-”
“Excuse me?” You scoffed at Buck’s assumption he could follow you.
“You’ll need another pair of hands to roll him on the backboard. I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home. This is kinda what I do. Bobby cleared it already.” Buck shrugged with a half-smirk on his handsome face.
With a roll of your eyes, you quickly gave Buck a rundown on how to jump correctly before you tossed yourself off the cliff. The cold water momentarily shocked your system as soon you submerged under the water. You swam to the surface before swimming towards the rocks. Willie hadn’t moved an inch.
“Whoa! That was so cool!” Buck cheered once he’d appeared on the surface of the water, “No wonder you used to do that!” 
His excitement both annoyed and amused you, “Eh. I was just an idiot kid who thought they were invincible.”
The two firefighters lifted themselves onto the rock formation, where blood stained the rock. While Buck retrieved the backboard and essentials from the rope, your hands moved across Willie’s body, checking for breaks. You caught the c-collar Buck tossed without looking. You quickly but gently put the collar on Willie.
“Hi, Willie. My name is Y/N, and I’m a paramedic. I’m gonna check you over for injuries.” You informed the teenager closely. You’d only just opened his eyes to flash a light on them, “Buck let Bobby know Willie’s pupils are reactive to light and the same size.”
“Got it!” Buck called out from the open medkit, “I’ll splint his leg.”
“W-what happened?” Willie wheezed sluggishly. His brown eyes were unfocused.
“You got hurt trying to jump off the cliff. You’re in good hands, Willie. I’m a paramedic with the Los Angeles Fire Department. This is my coworker Buck.”
“Kayla?”
“Perfectly safe, but you did give her a scare. Willie, can you feel this?” Buck questioned, gently touching his right foot. Buck and you both gave a sigh of relief as Willie confirmed he felt it.
 “Okay, we’re gonna roll you on to the backboard. On three: one, two, three.” You counted before rolling Willie on his side with Buck. Willie’s cry echoed around the surrounding as you settled him on the board.
“Need a ride?” Chimney asked as a very nice boat floated towards the three people on the rocks. Hen and Bobby helped load Willie onto the boat, “Mr. Covington agreed to let us use the boat if we don’t get blood on the seats.”
“Can you call my boyfriend?” Willie sluggishly asked when he was loaded into the ambulance on the cliff. Kayla sliding into the seat in the back of the ambulance with their items.
“Alex is meeting us at the hospital.” Kayla told her older brother, “You absolute idiot! You should have just let me jump!”
“And let you be in the back of the ambulance? Dad would kill me if I had let you do it.” Willie scoffed. Their conversation was silent as Chimney and Buck closed the back doors of the ambulance.
Bobby, Buck and you climbed into the fire truck to follow the ambulance to the closest hospital. Hen and Chimney rolled the gurney to the doors with Kayla hot on their heels. You’d just turned to head back to the truck when you saw three teens loitering near the entrance.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled, marching away from Bobby and Buck to the teen who was supposed to be in class.
Luke had been forced into private tutoring to catch up to his friends in his grades, meaning every afternoon. The watch on your wrist confirmed Luke was definitely supposed to be with his tutor at the community centre.
“Luke!” You shouted, stomping right up to the wide-eyed teen.
Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his older intimidating sister caught him like his hand was in the cookie jar. You didn’t give Reggie or Alex a second look while you gripped Luke’s ear to tug him away.
“Ow!” Luke whined from the angle you dragged him at.
“What the hell are you doing across the city? You’re supposed to be in your session that our parents are paying a great deal for.” You snapped, crossing your arms in your wet t-shirt.
“We need every chance we can to-”
“Make it big in the industry.” You parroted the past discussions on Luke’s dream as a band, “Do you remember how I got mom and dad off your back? An agreement that you finish high school on time. Not dropping out.”
“So many musicians have dropped out! Green Day’s frontman dropped out his senior year to focus on the band. Several others like Elton John and Kurt Cobain!” Luke enthused, gesturing with his hand to emphasize his words.
“Luke.” You warned, “It’s either catch by with a tutor with some time dedicated to your band, or it’s a military school.”
Luke’s hazel eyes minimally widened, “They would-”
Your stoic expression stayed the same as the energetic seventeen-year-old bounced in his spot across from you. 
“There’s only so much I can do before you lose everything. I know you feel anxious after what all happened, but music isn’t going anywhere.” You reached to squeeze Luke’s hand in yours, “So, I’ll clear it with my boss to have you ride the bus to the station. You’ll have your tutor sessions with my supervision, so I know you’re attending.”
“Y/N!” Bobby called from next to the firetruck, “We gotta go.”
“I’m guessing the Alex that Willie is dating your best friend?” You questioned with one raised eyebrow. Luke nodded in response, “Let mom know you had to be there for Alex. She’ll let skipping your session go this once.”
“Thanks!” Luke chimed, lunging to hug you. Your mouth barely opened before he was racing towards a jittery Alex and a grinning Reggie.
Reggie lifted his arm to wave with his flushed cheeks a darker red colour. You found Reggie’s crush on you to be absolutely adorable. He was a friendly kid.
“He looks good for a kid who was in a coma not long ago.” Hen breathed as the teenager entered the ER with his best friends beside him.
“Oh, he healed quickly. He was crushed after he fully recovered from his head injury.”
“That was your brother?” Buck inquired, and he was just as focused on your features as he had since he first met you. 
“Yeah! He was in a coma for ten months when he was sixteen. He’s spent the last two years catching on on school to graduate with his friends. Well hopefully. He’s dead set on dropping out.” You heavily sighed, leaning your temple on the glass window, “He was supposed to be at a tutoring session. I’ll be chaperoning to make sure he goes.”
“If you need to have them at the station, send me a schedule, and I’ll make it work. Luke’s just as much family as you are.”
The rest of the shift was smooth sailing as Buck followed you around with the sole purpose of getting to know you. The friendship came naturally to the two of you. He didn’t hold back with you like he did with others. Fridays off became hangouts that varied from just Buck and you to spend it with Eddie and Christopher.
Everyone could see Buck had developed feelings for you and vice versa. Unlike the man Buck used to be, he was cautious. He wanted to do this right. And Buck did. With the help of Christopher, he asked you out.
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Months Later
Buck’s eyes fluttered open in the dim lighting of your new home’s bedroom he often found himself in. Before, you had alternated staying at his apartment or yours before a significant change happened. Luke moved in to finish his senior year with the help of your tutoring, as agreed with your parents. That led to you giving up your former home, the one that coincidentally Buck’s sister Maddie had rented from you.
“Luke! You better be awake!” Your voice came from the main floor of the home. Your voice alone seduced the firefight to leave the warm sheets.
His bare feet pattered down the hardwood floor stairs into the kitchen coated in all different kinds of breakfast food. Waffles to imported maple syrup to bacon spread across the counter.
“Morning,” Buck grumbled, stepping up behind you to tug you against his chest.
Unlike Buck’s softer footsteps, your little brother tore down the stairs like a stampede of elephants. Luke wore a vintage band shirt modified sleeveless; you’d be getting a voicemail about dress code violations. The chains hanging off his black jeans.
“You have to hurry, Lu. Buck and I can’t be late. He needs to get to his apart-”
“I don’t see why he doesn’t just move in. He’s here almost every night. He helps buy groceries.” Luke’s hazel eyes stared at the plate he towered food on.
Buck raised one eyebrow in response, “You just moved in. You should be settled before we make-”
“Dude. Your lease is up in like a month; just move in already. No feathers will be ruffled. Besides, the band’s taking off now that Nick got his dad Ryan to check our music out.” Luke sprouted with a beaming smile at the good news his new band received.
After Luke had recovered from that coma, he’d woken up in a world where Alex, Reggie and Bobby, no Trevor, now continued the band. Then when Alex and Reggie couldn’t go on, the rhythm guitarist betrayed Luke. He stole every song he could get his hands on and proved successful.
“Ryan Evans, right? His sister’s some bigshot on Broadway? Sharpay, right?” You questioned recalling in the early 2000s the success of Sharpay and Ryan in some kind of Disney films based on them.
“You’re about to be the sister and brother-in-law of a certified rockstar.” Luke’s attempt at smirking made him look like a chipmunk with full cheeks of food, “I don’t need a ride. Alex’s picking me up.”
“Straight to school, Luke. You’ve got two weeks left before you can leave that behind.” Buck pointed his coffee cup in the direction of the passionate musician. Luke returned a smile of acknowledgement.
The kitchen was quiet as Luke shoved as much food in his mouth in such little time while you watched. In a flash, he’d stuck his dishes in the dishwasher before sprinting out to the van beeping continuously.
“Think we can have you moved in by tomorrow? Your one-bedroom place will be a little cramped for five people.” You simply spoke as you rinsed your coffee cup out. You could hear the wheels in Buck’s brain turning as he thought.
“Five people?”
“Yeah. Luke, Albert, me, you and baby Buckley.”
The entire home went completely still as the announcement bled into the house you’d made a home. One hand resting against the smoothness of your belly. That hand covered by the calloused one of Buck’s. His blue eyes gleaming in utter adoration and excitement.
“Baby Buckley?” Buck marvelled, turning you to face him with tears running down your cheeks, “You’re pregnant?”
“I am. I guess we’re giving Maddie’s daughter a cousin.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Now I’m obligated to see your parents regularly, and I still grimace at the first introduction.” Buck winced, recalling the foot in mouth syndrome he’d developed.
Buck had never been as nervous as in this moment. Not when he had to tell his parents the first time he got kicked out of college. Or when his teenage self sat beside one of his flings waiting for the results of a pregnancy test. Not even on his first date with Abby. 
“You’ll be fine.” You soothed the anxious man standing by your side on the doorstep of your childhood home. The door opened, revealing Luke standing with a grimace, “Oh Mom, made you wear that.”
Luke had been stuffed into one of the only long-sleeved shirts he owned by your mother. It was a magenta maroon hued corduroy shirt and set off his chocolate hair perfectly. Apparently, your mother hadn’t been able to get him into a pair of pants that weren’t skinny, black or ripped.
“We’re meeting your boyfriend, not the damn Pope-”
“You wouldn’t be wearing that if the Pope was involved.” You retorted, stepping to tug the younger Patterson into your arms. The only thing you adored about your little brother was he never denied a hug. Physical touch is his love language, so he never went through a phase.
“Lucas, don’t let them freeze on the front porch!” Emily shouted from within the Patterson home. Luke rolled his eyes at his mother’s request.
“Luke, this is my boyfriend, Evan Buckley. Buck, this is my not so little brother Luke.” You swiftly introduced the most important males in your life.
Luke and Buck got along better than any previous partner you’d brought home. He got along with your parents really well. Even when he slightly embarrassed himself as the time came to go home, whether it was his place or yours. He kissed your mother’s cheek and shook hands with your father.
“No offence, but thank you for having a heart attack and a coma. If you hadn’t, I’m sure I would have never met Y/N.”
Luke snickered at Buck’s odd choice of words, as did your parents. A part of Buck dreaded the next time he’d see your parents.
The gentle press of lips against your cheek pulled you from your thoughts of the first family dinner. Despite the issues between Luke and your parents, they were great people and parents; Buck had felt like he finally fit in. Even with that awkward thankful he gave your brother and dad, he was family the minute Mitch and Emily saw the mutual looks.
“How are we gonna do this?”
“Well, as the pregnant one, I’ll carry the little Bean until it’s time for them to enter the world. Then we’ll-”
“I get that but with our jobs?”
You felt guilty at the dread of not getting to do what you love, but you were excited, “I’ll keep working as a paramedic. I’ll stay away from fires, and then I’ll go on mat leave. We’ll make this work, Buck.” 
Buck leaned down to rest his forehead against yours with his eyes closed, envisioning how life was about to change. Buck adored children. He had loved Christopher from the moment he’d first met him. Buck himself was a kid at heart. 
“I didn’t think I could fall more in love, but you continue to surprise me each time,” Buck murmured with that gorgeous smile that utterly melted your heart from the first time you saw it. Back when you tried to deny any feelings beyond friendship.
“We’re so lucky to have you, Evan Buckley.” You breathed as you leaned up to kiss him with as much passion as you could. Although it was mostly clashing of teeth with the matching wide grins on your face.
“This little girl is gonna be a heartbreaker but no boyfriends or girlfriends until they’re thirty.” Buck declared, tugging you into his arms. His blue eyes twinkling in the natural lighting.
“It could be a boy.”
“Or maybe neither. Boy, girl or non-binary, I’ll love them just as much.” Buck spoke once more.
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Gideon Buckley was born in the early morning to the pride of his parents and extended family. He was a healthy solid 8 pounds with sparse dark blonde hair and the trademark grey-blue newborn eyes. You everyone but Buck and your surprise Gideon wasn’t alone. Grace Buckley followed her older twin brother eight minutes later.
You rested against the propped up pillows spent from the exhausting hours of labour, but it was worth it. The two tiny babies snuggled beneath the swaddling blanket concealing your bare chest. Skin to skin contact was absolutely the best part of being a parent.
“Did you steal a baby?” Chim joked upon entering the hospital room with Maddie in tow. Right behind them were your parents and Luke.
“I’d like you to meet our twins Gideon and Grace Buckley. Surprise!” Buck quietly cheered in the nearly silent room. Buck’s curated newly parents playlist gently playing in the background.
Mitch and Emily came closer to look at the little loves they proudly got to claim as their first grandchildren. Emily’s heart melted upon hearing Gracie coo in her sleep. Grace and Gideon’s fist pressed against each other.
“Congratulations.” Maddie breathed, bending to catch a peek at the twins’ faces.
“Luke. Would you like to meet your goddaughter and godson?” You questioned the nervous musician. The nineteen-year-old tiptoed his way to the hospital bed.
“I’m both their godfather?” Luke choked as soon as Buck gently transferred Gideon onto his uncle’s chest. 
“There’s no one else in the world I’d choose to help guide them in the right direction. You always found your way back onto the right path. You’ll do the same for them.” Buck answered with Gracie nestled on his chest.
 Buck was the first to hold them followed by you and then their godfather Luke.
Gid and Gracie, although unseen, had been in Luke’s graduation pictures and watched as Julie and the Phantoms signed with a record label. Where Gid was, Luke wasn’t far beyond; the special bond melted everyone. Likewise with Gracie and Alex.
Gid overall was a happy baby compared to Grace. Loved visiting the firehouse. Loved the people working with their father and previously their mother. For the entire first year of Gideon and Grace’s life, you stayed at home with the utter support of Buck.
“First day back.” Hen spoke from beside you on the bench in the women’s change room. As a fellow mother, she’d been watching your behaviour.
“I miss them. I feel guilty that I abandoned them-”
“Okay, your feelings are valid, but you aren’t abandoning Gideon or Grace. You’re teaching them that you can be a great mom while also being a badass firefighter. I was the same when I went back to work after we got Denny.”
“Do you ever wish you could be a stay at home mom?”
“I love Denny with my entire heart, but I couldn’t do that. I was meant to be a paramedic firefighter as much as Denny’s mother. Besides, I can see Maddie pushing in the double stroller.”
Your head snapped to see your sister in law beaming with the double stroller carrying Gideon and Grace. Maddie’s daughter sitting on the seat made for a toddler. Maddie and Chimney had come to a decision for Maddie to work part-time.
Hen watched as you bounded out of the changeroom in uniform to scoop the twins into your arms. In a split second, Buck was down the stairs cooing at the absolute loves of his life. His partner and two children.
Buck would forever be grateful for finding his way to the 118, where he found his true family. A place of acceptance, love, trust and loyalty. Buck found his place in the world, and that was beside you.
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makeste · 3 years
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BnHA Chapter 315: I Didn’t Expect This to Blow Up
Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “guess which plot that you thought was dead is actually not dead and is making a comeback!” and we were all “EVIL HPSC??” and he was all “girl you know it,” and that’s the story of how we got a sexy Lady Nagant flashback with lots of guns and murder. Flashback!Lady was all “gotta murder peeps to preserve the people’s trust,” but then a little while later she was like “actually wait that makes no sense,” and so she shot her evil boss and they sent her to jail. Back in the present, Deku was all “okay fair, the hero system might in fact be a little fucked up, but hear me out... have you considered not helping AFO take over the world so he can murder like a bazillion more innocent people??” The chapter ended with the not-all-there Overhaul finally revealing himself to Deku, and I honestly have no idea where this is gonna go.
Today on BnHA: In what is unfortunately the single worst plan ever concocted by anyone in BnHA, Nagant is all “I’m going to try and get this Deku kid to panic and freeze up by putting someone in mortal danger.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t panic and freeze up at the sight of someone in mortal danger].” Nagant is all “omg no way.” Deku, who is now all of a sudden being so OP that even I have to acknowledge that it’s OP lol, is all “[smashes Nagant’s gun arm to bits]”, which sucks but is also really cool, and which also apparently makes Nagant decide that she actually likes this kid after all. Deku is all “NAGANT I REALLY LIKE YOU AND THINK YOU’RE GREAT SO PLEASE JOIN UP WITH ME AND STOP BEING EVIL.” Nagant is all “aw shucks (✿ •͈ᴗ•͈) well okay then” and everyone is all “( ・◡・) ✰ ( ˆᴗˆ ) ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)” and then Nagant FUCKING EXPLODES LIKE AN EGG IN THE MICROWAVE AND FALLS TO HER DEATH!!!! except not really because Hawks saves her??? In conclusion, (a) THE FUCK, and (b) AFO TURN ON YOUR LOCATION I JUST WANT TO TALK.
so I have to tell you guys something, which is that barely ten minutes after I made that “please don’t send me spoilers” post the other day, someone replied to the comments in a stunning fit of “tell me that you’re twelve without actually telling me you’re twelve” energy and posted what seemed to be the copy-pasted spoiler summary from reddit or twitter or whatever lol. so here is my good news/bad news rundown of all that
good news: I have very well-conditioned ABORT!! reflexes and have trained myself to immediately look away from the screen (usually in dramatic fashion) as soon as I realize that whatever I’m reading is a spoiler
bad news: unfortunately as I was subsequently deleting said comments, I accidentally read the very last one
good news??: said spoiler was so unbelievably, absurdly over-the-top that I’m almost positive this person was just trolling. like, there’s just no way lmao
bad news: but in the unlikely event that it is true I will absolutely lose my shit I swear to god
(ETA: “NAGANT DIES.” that was the spoiler I read lol. like, literally all I read from the person’s comments was “My Hero Academia Chapter 315 Title: “Beautiful Words.” Chapter starts with...” and then I noped out of there, and then of all the comments to read as I was deleting, it had to be that one lol. I seriously was just like “SURE, JAN.” all “just how gullible do you think I am” sob. but I was wrong. a troll, but an honest troll they remain.
but anyways like I’m pretty sure Nagant isn’t even actually dead lol, so in the end this whole little adventure doesn’t even have a point to it, but for me it was a journey!)
anyway, so there are apparently two versions of the chapter today?? no idea what the difference is, but I’m going to go with the Bean version, because it’s the one at the top and I don’t feel like making decisions today
huh, so Overhaul is actually more coherent than Horikoshi was letting on
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look at him having a whole back and forth conversation with her. side note, how is he still this jacked when he’s been sitting in a cell doing absolutely nothing for the past six months
anyway so he says he’ll go with her on one condition. I wonder what that condition could possibly be. do you think it could be the thing he literally hasn’t shut up about ever since he reappeared lol
yep! and damn -- maybe this guy will surprise me after all
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still would be nice if you also felt a bit sorry for the little girl you tortured and traumatized, but this is something at least. maybe Deku will yell at him for that other stuff lol
(ETA: also can’t help but wonder if he wants to make amends because he put him in a coma, or because his plan was a failure and ended up destroying the family. just hoping you’ve finally had that “hurting other people is bad” epiphany dude.)
anyways so now Nagant’s arm is transforming again, and this particular transformation happens to be the only truly unsexy thing that Nagant has done thus far so I’m just gonna skip right on ahead lol
aaaaand we’re back to the delirious ranting
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buddy. just. read the fucking room, guy
wow she really is aiming at Overhaul, then. those theories were spot-on
damn she’s really out here all “it really fucks with kids’ heads when you kill people right in front of them and make them blame themselves” like yo
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I’m picturing her saying all this in a very loud stage-whispery tone while making very significant eye contact with Deku lol
uh oh but wait
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um. okay. who’s gonna tell her. Nagant I might have some bad news for you about the kid you’re trying to capture here. specifically about the way he tends to do the opposite of what you’re thinking that he’s about to do
holy shit
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so it’s basically just “tap x repeatedly to charge up your attack” lol
and okay, so that’s cool and all, but is anyone else wincing at the thought of what that must be like on his knees. oh to be young
anyway, but so to the surprise of basically no one, Deku did not, in fact, freeze. I am very sorry, Nagant. he’s just like this
LMAO
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someone wanna tell me how getting yoloed in the fucking ribs by this fucking slingshot kid moving at literal sniper bullet speed is in any way even remotely better than getting hit by the bullet itself lol
(ETA: this is 10x funnier now that we know the bullet wasn’t even gonna hit him lmao.)
anyway so now Nagant is having an extended “!?!?!?” reaction about how Deku just moved with no hesitation, and I’m starting to get an inkling of fear that the rest of this fight isn’t going to go very well for her and maybe that’s what all the “hoo boy” is about
oh my god Deku are you about to Gomu Gomu no Rocket yourself at her you insane little man
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now Three is popping up again and he’s all “I see you’ve learned your lesson and are now only using three quirks at once instead of five” like with all this effusive praise about how great and badass Deku is and sob, okay, yeah. this chapter is basically one of those machines that shoots tennis balls at people, except instead of tennis balls it shoots hot piping discourse
OH MY GOD
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YOOOOOOOOOO but also, NOOOOOOOOOOO
lol oh my god it’s literally two opposing reactions at once wtf. do I love this or hate this. like just for once can Horikoshi actually let a badass lady character win their fucking fight without getting their arm ripped off, BUT ALSO fucking look at that absurdly cool “SMASH” onomatopoeia though. it looks like it’s about to float right off the page holy shit that’s some seriously good art
anyway so is this really the end?? do I need to break out my ಠ_ಠ faces
lmao okay yeah I can definitely see how this would piss a lot of people off
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he basically one-shotted her and she’s all “damn this kid is so amazing that I’m about to do a complete 180 turn on all of my previous angst” lmao. Horikoshi is really shounening it up today
on the plus side though, maybe this means there’s still a chance for her to join up with him after all? unless that spoiler was true lmao, then all hell is gonna break loose
YESSSSSSS
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OH MY GOD AND HE SAYS THE BULLET WOULDN’T HAVE DONE MORE THAN GRAZE OVERHAUL ANYWAY, wow, I’m actually more relieved by that than I would have expected. I mean I would have forgiven her either way, but it means that there was still more hero in her than she was letting on
YES!!! FUCKING YES, THANK YOU
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lol but I mean, it’s also like, “oh so today they get to have brain cells”, thank you so much lol. sometimes it’s really hard to tell which times we’re supposed to question these character decisions that seem dumb, and which times we’re just supposed to full on embrace them and switch off our critical thinking
but okay, so in this case it really was Nagant going easy on him on purpose, and not just her fucking up for no good reason even though she used to do this for a living and was the best in the game. and I know in this case it’s probably just Horikoshi giving us some consolation headpats to soften the blow of her losing so abruptly, but you know what, shit. I’ll take it
also you guys the light is coming back into Deku’s eyes again for just a moment here and I’m having feels about it?? the way it still comes back when he’s reaching out to save someone, and following his own hero path instead of the much darker and lonelier Christopher Nolan path that’s been laid out for him instead that he never wanted?? it’s both reassuring and also very sad
YESSSSSSSSSSS
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DO IT LADY OMG PLEASE?? PLEASE COME BE HIS NEW IRRESPONSIBLE ADULT SUPERVISION YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO
AHHHHHHH SHE’S GONNA DO IT AHHHH
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p.s. I am now absolutely scared shitless that that spoiler was actually true sob. swear to god, I will throw this manga into a fucking volcano. but we’re almost at the end of the chapter and this seems just WAY TOO GOOD to be true fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f
UCK
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NOPE NAH SEND IT BACK, NOPE, NUH UH, DIDN’T ORDER THIS. “GULLIBLE” OKAY FUCK YOU?? “COUNTERMEASURES” NOPE, DON’T NEED ‘EM, WE’RE ALL FINE HERE. WE’RE ACTUALLY GOOD SO YOU CAN JUST GO, OKAY. PLEASE
fuck, lol, I don’t wanna do it. I don’t wanna scroll down what have I ever done to deserve this oh my god
WHAT THE HONEY-ROASTED FUCK
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WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT FUCKING VOLCANO IN ICELAND THAT I KEEP SEEING ALL THESE PICTURES OF. WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT. LET’S GO
ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW
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can someone please give AFO a really good, sharpish kick in the balls. just really let him have it. I’m so tired, what the fuck
-- ARE YOU KIDDING ME LOL WHAT
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bro. I was literally going through my Excel folders to find the spreadsheet about female characters in BnHA that I made back when Midnight died. was gearing myself up for a wholeass rant. and honestly I might just let all of that continue simmering on low to keep it warm just in case lol, because to tell you the truth I have absolutely no idea what’s happening right now
my girl straight up does not have a face. she used to have a face. people usually need those, idk. like, even if she’s alive, her gorgeous eyebrows are definitely not making it out of this and I’m gonna throw a funeral just for them
how the fuck did AFO just blow her up?? how did he know what was going on?? and if he had a quirk that could explode people at will, why is this the first we’re hearing of it?? you’d think that might have come in handy at Kamino or Jakku, like what
(ETA: present!me, who’s had more than three hours of sleep and can now actually remember facts about the series, would like to remind past!me that AFO gave Nagant a quirk, and so this is probably just more Vestige shenanigans now on his part. that’s also probably why Air Walk suddenly stopped working out of nowhere. still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t go around blowing people up more often though but maybe he thinks it’s gauche.)
Hawks just straight up out of nowhere. just Mirioed his way straight into the chapter just in time to be too late sob. here I was looking forward to seeing your face when Deku showed up with his new best friend. can’t believe Horikoshi deprived us of that moment
on the plus side, WELCOME BACK, HAWKS’S FEATHERS. I have no doubt that in this chapter of Deku being an almighty threequirk-mastering god, and Nagant losing anticlimactically only to be immediately blown up because girl characters in BnHA can only be cool for one fight and one fight only, there are still some people who are focusing solely on the “how dare Hawks get his wings back when he is a MURDERER this is an outrage what about CONSEQUENCES” discourse, and to hell with all the other discourses lmao
anyway, so yeah. wow. and now it’s just occurring to me that maybe the real reason why Overhaul is there is so he can get a head start on that amend-making by actually doing a good thing for once in his life, and using his quirk to heal Nagant. assuming he can still do that
and so now Horikoshi has got me out here actually rooting for Overhaul. you know what, on that note I think I’m just gonna go ahead and call it a day sob
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shoutogepi · 3 years
Text
A Million Times Over, part 1
┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐
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
└────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┘
─── ・°* ゚✧:* • 。゚:*・☽・*: 。゚•*:✧ ゚*°・ ───
“.../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.”
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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.”
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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 ;) 
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dreamii-yume · 3 years
Text
@shikigamiuwu said :
“Epel’s have a crush to y/n since they meet them and has confessed there love for y/n many times but y/n reject him. So since it was here birthday he thought of confessing again since he has birthday pass, but Y/n reject him again since he has a crush to Vil or Rook (whoever you want) to Epel’s demise, so Epel’s became so frustrated and angry that he just rape y/n and manipulate him on think y/n is not worthy to be with Vil’s so he can have y/n for himself.”
••••••••••
You, my good bitch, have sent like- four big-brained ideas for not only Epel but SILVER BIRTHDAY CRUMBS and I am ascending. Yume does not deserve this, I–
Warnings : Non-Consensual Touching | Non-Con | Yandere
“I like you.”
If it happened to be your first-time hearing Epel say those three words to you in such an affectionate manner, words that are obviously meant to be taken as a confession, it would’ve been enough to put you through a coma because of shock. You’ll be all flustered and probably stutter like a toddler learning how to speak for the first time, trying to figure out if it was a joke or not, despite the obvious signs. I mean...It was a confession from such a beautiful boy after all and you don’t really consider yourself as someone who can reach that level of beauty so, how can you not panic? If it were the first time, you wouldn’t know what to do, what words you should say, or which feelings you should prioritize. You’d be totally lost!
Except…This was no first time.
How many times had this beautiful boy confessed to you over the course of a few months? You weren’t counting, but you do know that you rejected each one of them respectfully and thoroughly. You didn’t why he kept coming back, he’s a lot more persistent than he lets on. “...How many times are you gonna tell me that?” You can answer him as differently as you want, but Epel would only smile at you and say the same thing every time.
“Until you can say that you like me back.”
The first time was as true as it could get, you were flustered, in the state of disbelief, plenty of eye movements going everywhere, grateful but unsure, and nervous sweat formed on your forehead. He loves you in a romantic sense, but even if he was someone precious to you, you just can’t see him as someone more than a really good friend, family even. “...But I keep telling you, I already like someone else.” It was your only excuse; it was a weak reason but at least it wasn’t a lie, Epel should know it more than anyone. It shuts him up, unable to say anything that could counteract your words and at first glance, it looks like a sign of giving up but soon, he’d just shrug it off like you never said anything in the first place.
It was troublesome, Epel wasn’t forcefully pushing his personal ideologies into you but having to tell you something that you already know is tiring to say the least. You wanted to be polite and even appreciate his honesty, but the more times he confesses, the more desensitized you get. Your rejections went from being apologetic to giving out an exasperated sigh and a shake of your head, just wanting to get it over with. It’ll just be the same anyways, the same confession and the same response, there was no point in sugar coating your words at this point.
“I like you.”
Epel might have thought that he’d get the response he wanted if he confesses to you on his birthday, but you could just shake your head in pity. No, you weren’t going to give in to the fact that it’s his special day and feel obligated to reciprocate his feelings because of it. You’d be lying otherwise, and you’re not about to build a relationship out of lies...Seriously, when is he ever going to stop terrorizing you with all these confessions, you’re starting to feel really bad about yourself here.
“Like I said a million times before, Epel.” You narrowed your eyebrows together with a stern and impeccable voice. “I don’t like you that way, I have someone I already like—“
“It’s Vil-san, right?”You widened your eyes as you looked back at Epel, surprised that he gave up a different answer than the usual. He was wearing the same smile as he does before, but up until now, you just can’t stand the fact on how empty it feels.
“H-How did you—“
“It’s obvious. Anyone could easily guess it if they observed you enough...Especially with how you constantly you look at him.” He said, his clear cerulean eyes burning holes into your soul. This made your cheeks flushed, quickly looking down...Do you really act that weird when it comes to Vil? It’s true that he makes your heart flutter and his presence was just something that you can’t turn a blind eye into but...You always thought that you were keeping your feelings cool and low. “What, don’t tell me you’re not aware of it yourself?”
Epel laughed, his hand covering his mouth like a delicate princess. “You’re really funny, charming even when your making such a dumb face too, hehe...” He said with a tinge of adorable red tainted on his flawless skin, rosy cheeks that you could only ever wish in your dream to have. You gulped as he looked back at you, staring straight into your unsettled eyes, making your body tense without knowing the actual reason as to why. “...But that’s only because I really like you that I’m willing to accept any of your bad characteristics. What do you think will I think if I were a normal person? If I were Vil-san?”
Your mouth closed and open multiple times, trying to find the words you want to say. Somehow, you began to piece together what he wanted to say and yet, you couldn’t actually stop him from saying it out loud. You knew it yourself; you didn’t need someone to pressure you into admitting something you already knew. Was Epel this much of a shrewd person before? Regardless, his pink polished lips twisted into a chilling smile.
“I’d think you’re disgusting.”
“You think you’re so smooth, following him around and eavesdropping every time he opens his mouth to talk just to hear his voice. You’re probably the type to steal some stuff from him too, it’s creepy!” Epel said, walking over to you as you kept your head held down, ashamed to be called out like this. “That makes you no different from a crazed fan, a stalker. Vil-san already gets plenty of those, he doesn’t need another one.”
You gasped as Epel grasped your chin, his eyes remaining as dark and cruel as you remembered them before, only that this time, he was no longer smiling. “…That’s why it’s disgusting. That’s not the kind of beauty Vil-san is looking for.” He said as you tried backing away, only for him to keep on stepping forward to stay close to you. “He’ll never acknowledge someone like you.”
You yelped as Epel suddenly pushed your shoulders down, tackling you down to the ground. Grunting, you landed in a not-so gentle manner with his beautiful face hovering above you. “...But I do.” He added, a small smile reappeared in his face, it was more like a pity smile if anything else.
You were getting scared, there was fear in your eyes alone as you try to search for your way out of this situation. Epel has a small structure despite being growing man himself, the different in size between the two of you are barely even noticeable! But with that cold, intimidating gaze, it feels as if you were forced to shrunk down beneath him. “E-Epel—“ Your voice calling out his name only became an encouragement for him to move his hands freely around your body. Even when you widened your eyes as he suddenly lifted up your shirt to expose your chest.
“W-Wait— no!” You can protest all you want, but even struggling against him as a fit resilience did nothing to reach conscience. Your breath was shaking as he merely swayed your flinging arms away, already weakened by your own will, and worked his way into freeing your mounds to be groped. His hand reached the underneath the skirt that you were wearing for his party and wasted no time in reaching for your underwear. Quavering lips turned into gasps of panic as he makes its way down to your erogenous zones, his nimble fingers able to send pleasures down your body. It didn’t take too long before the realization came to you, just how serious this is, that tears began to well up in your eyes.
He took no mind to it though, you plead and beg but you were met with cold, uncaring eyes as you felt a finger sliding in pass your folds. The way you squeaked like a mouse as he bit on your breast too, it was all too insignificant to really reach his ears at all…Looking deeper in the depths of those seemingly gentle eyes, it slowly occurred to you the emotions that he was hiding underneath there. Something that you’ve never noticed until now, or something that you never really bothered to look into, even if it was just for a split second.
All this time, Epel...was angry.
“S-Stop!” As if yelling out in a demanding voice can stop him, it only made him growl in irritation as he thrusted yet another finger inside you. Your willpower was incredibly weak, your stomach was already forming a knot ready to burst out any moment just by his fingers alone. With a scissor-like motion, it’s almost like he knew where to hit you, which places would feel good and would irk you even more, he even dug deeper down your entrance to explore undiscovered places.
An orgasm was inevitable, he was surprisingly skilled with his hands and your body wasn’t able to take all of that pleasure all at once and bursts right then and there. The toll on your body it took had you writhing on the ground, sobbing at the light-headed feeling spreading inside your brain. Epel seemed satisfied though, pulling out his fingers completely to marvel at how soaked you’ve made his fingers to be. “…You’re amazing.” He said, smiling down at you as he began to shuffle in between your legs, not even letting you rest for even a minute. “This is why I like you so much.”
“Please, stop...! W-Why…Why are you doing this…!?”
He leans in, wiping the tears off your cheek as he shook his head stubbornly. “Do you still…not understand?” He said, that chilling smile on his face was making it all the more terrifying for you as he comes and undo his pants. It’s not about whether or not you understood his motive here because you already had way too much time to do that, you were just in a state of disbelief that you’re just…doing anything you can to call off this reality your experiencing at this moment. “I said it over and over again, didn’t I?”
“I like you.”
Epel then chuckled, before shaking his head as if to correct himself from his own wording. “…No, maybe that’s why you couldn't understand.” He said, his smile becoming wider and wider. “Because it’s love.”
“I love you, (Y/N).”
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