#// which was p fun considering i usually have plans before i start drawing!!

[hellguarded-moved]

// i don't have any funny caption for this one i made this yesterday at 2am. or today i guess. ft. @fanaticist again because i'm having fun with these frat boys

[doodlemcjazzhands]

do you have any tips on drawing backgrounds. I struggle with them so much and can’t always make them cohesive with the drawing yk

Oh man, yeah. I do indeed know, all too well U_U Backgrounds are a STRUGGLE

Here are some things I’ve picked up, that have helped make them a little less difficult (feel free to take what you think might be helpful and then scrap the rest!):

1. Map out your Composition, Tones and Colors in a Rough Thumbnail

-I think the main thing that helps me, is planning. If you’re gonna do a background, don’t think of it as an after thought. I find it’s helpful to plan out the background at the same time you’re planning the character pose, rather that just slapping in a background, once the character is already finished. It’s like a little dance, making the environment work to accommodate the character while simultaneously making the character work to accommodate the BG.

-I usually do a small thumbnail and color key before I actually go into the drawing itself

-I like to think of the thumbnail like a little roadmap that I can always refer back to when I’m stuck. It's something that is easy to experiment with and will help me keep the big picture in mind, while working, rather than fussing over all of the small details.

-you can plan how you might want to use light and other elements of the bg to frame important things, or point and lead your eye to the focal point, or divide up the frame.

When I’m working on the actual drawing, I’ll always keep my thumbnail visible off in the corner of my workspace, just as a reminder of where I want to go with the piece, and to keep it available to color pick from, when I want to.

2. Try Sticking to 1 or 2 Dominant Colors and try not to stray too far, unless it’s an intentional accent

I usually choose 1-2 main colors and then paint bucket fill the canvas with those colors as a base, before I even start on the "cleaned up" linework. Then when I start painting, for real, I choose my colors based off how warm or cold they are, compared to the main color(s).

So say, for example, I want the dominating color of the illustration to be red, if I’m coloring an apple (that is naturally red) I would keep it the same hue, but might change the tone or saturation. However, if I’m painting a carrot (that would naturally be orange) I might just shift the hue to be a warmer red, rather than a full blown orange. Conversely, if I wanted to paint a naturally blue sky, I would shift the hue from red to be a bit colder, maybe more of a purple, but not necessarily a true blue.

*sometimes the saturation can mess around with a perceived color as well, (like how a desaturated yellow, will often look green), so I find there’s a lot of trial and error and messing around to be done with color, which I guess is half of the fun :P

(obviously this isn’t the only way to approach color, but I find it helpful for reigning myself in and keeping things a little more cohesive)

3. Add Depth

-Think of your environment as a 3D space with overlapping elements. Consider what your foreground, midground and background elements might be, to give depth to the drawing.

The further away something is, the less details the human eye can make out, and atmosphere will create a sort of hazy look to things that are set far away. So to mimic this effect for things that you want to recede into the distance, you can use less saturated colors, less contrast, do less detail, less line work (maybe even go lineless) and use slightly cooler colors. Maybe even add a little gaussian blur if it looks good. Conversely, for things you want push forward, just do the opposite (higher contrast, higher saturation, heavier line, more detail ect.)

4a. Study and Play with Lighting

I think lighting can be a big factor in helping make a character feel like they fit and belong in their environment. Study how light works and interacts with the world and think about how it might effect every element of your environment. How does it break apart when it’s going through something translucent? Is it going to cast harsh or soft shadows? Are there multiple light sources? Are they different colors? different intensities? Is the light source visible or not? Is it a controlled beam of light, like a laser, or more open, like the sun?

4b. Make use of Reflected Light and Color

So, when light hits an object, that is near another object, some of it’s color can be reflected onto the nearby object, if the angle is right. So for reflected light, I usually add a clipping mask layer to the affected object and add a gradient coming from the first object, using a color that has be color picked from the first object. Then I’ll turn down the opacity to my liking.

^(Ok, this first example of reflected light is super subtle on Sirius’s jacket, but it’s a little clearer to see the reflected light from the tub reflecting onto Sirius’s face and Remus’s arms, in the second example)

5. Add a Little Bit of *Spice*

If by the end of my coloring, I still want to do some tweaking, these are my general go to’s:

-Edit with filters and/or gradients. If you’re working digitally, play around with blending modes. You can make a new layer, fill it with a color or a gradient, then see what different blending modes and levels of opacities will do to it.

-Color your lines so that the black isn’t so harsh against the other colors in the scene. Sometimes I like to go completely lineless in some areas, if it's an area blown out by light, or is maybe pulling your attention away from the focal point

-You could add a little bit of grain and noise (to do this in photoshop, make a new layer, fill it with a grey colour (or experiment with other colours) then go to filter>noise>add noise>ok and turndown the fill and maybe change the blending mode)

-Adjust the levels, if you’re still not fully satisfied with the contrast, you can adjust the levels (ctrl +L in photoshop)

-Adjust the Color balance if you're not fully satisfied with the saturation and colors (ctrl+ B in photoshop)  

Ok, gosh, there’s so much, but I think I’ve rambled on long enough… hope this helps and wasn't too obvious or convoluted!

Good luck!!

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Five

If you remember that post I made about the Red Resistance you’re a real one.

Notes: this one is very short. It’s just to move the plot along and blah blah blah. Next chapter is a good one I think.

The next time Scott showed up to the Red Desert it was for a petty fight that Scar had instigated by trying to steal directly from the Renchanting base. The situation made Scott face palm, and he contemplated not even showing up. However, when Jimmy offered to go in place of him, he told him not to bother. That he would be back in less than a day and night cycle.

Scott walked into the meeting just as the Red Army crested a hill. Which they stayed on. Scar yawned exaggeratedly and trekked up to his opponent, who was wearing a bandage on his left arm.

Cleo was also there. She seemed to be focused on drawing shapes in the cracked sand with the tip of her sword. Most likely feeling bitter about her former ally, Tango, joining Dogwarts. Everyone was paying as little attention as possible while Scar fired off false promises and white lies. Grian busied himself with apologizing to the nearest members of the Red Army for Scar’s embarrassment.

Scott was nearly falling asleep on his feet when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Tango.

“Hey Major, you got a minute?” he whispered.

“So many,” Scott responded, gesturing to the desolate state of their meeting.

The two of them quietly excused themselves from the group to speak in private. Scott didn’t know why he didn’t tell Tango to just leave him alone. Maybe it was because Tango had a certain air of reluctance about him, Scott was certain he pulled his punches. Maybe it was shear boredom.

“So, nice weather,” Tango observed the arid desert sky.

“Uh huh..” Scott provided, unimpressed.

Tango stared at him blankly. Awkwardly.

He cleared his throat, “so I heard about your battle with Skiz and Ren. Impressive,” Tango said.

“What is with you people and beating around the bush? We’re not friends,” Scott pushed Tango away by the middle of his chest, “Tango,” he reminded.

Tango looked hurt for a second, “ouch Major. Fine, I wanted to ask you to join me,” he said.

Scott burst out laughing, to which Tango scolded him and shook him by the shoulders. That shut him up, it also earned Tango a slap.

“Don’t touch me,” Scott ordered.

Tango put his hands up, “no touching here! But be quiet. I brought you over here alone for a reason,” he pointed out.

Scott glanced at his allies. Blissfully unaware of the possible treason he may have been about to commit.

“Nobody knows this yet,” Tango whispered, “but I’m spying on the Red Army,” he said.

“What?” Scott asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I have a plan. It involves you,” Tango responded.

Scott paused to consider if he was really about to entertain whatever was about to come out of Tango’s mouth.

“How do I know you’re not just trying to get close to me and then kill me on behalf of him,” Scott pointed at Ren, who was rolling his eyes at Scar and animatedly conversing with him about something Scott forgot about a long time ago.

“You remember the cow farm right?” he said.

“Yes,” Scott nodded suspiciously.

“I let you take my cow, on the promise that you and Jimmy wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tango recited.

“And we didn’t,” Scott said.

“Exactly. I know I can trust you, and I can’t trust them, Etho tried to kill me remember?” Tango pointed at Etho and Ren.

“So I want you to join me. Not the Red Army, me. Impulse is doing the same thing,” he concluded.

“Didn’t Impulse actually kill you?” Scott pointed out.

Tango waved his hand, water under the bridge.

Scott drifted off into contemplation. Everything about joining a coup against the Red Army screamed danger. More than usual. Dogwarts was a force to be reckoned with. They had superior gear, defenses, players, and alliances. Maybe Scott could cheap shot Martyn and Skizzle, but he could not promise that same luck against Etho or anyone else for that matter. The thought of even trying made his stomach turn.

And then there was Jimmy. If their plan didn’t work, what would happen to Jimmy? The Crastle? Or the Red Desert for that matter? The target on their backs was large enough. Scott had to take a step back. Since when did he get himself involved in a war?

Since he started defending himself, his mind provided.

Since he started standing up for his own freedom. For their freedom.

“Okay,” Scott said.

“Really? You’re in?” Tango’s eyes lit up, his joy was a bit loud for Scott’s new predilection for secrecy.

“Shh!” Scott put a finger in front of his face, “that’s not what I said…” he averted his eyes.

“I want to, believe me, I do,” he said, “but I can’t.”

Tango’s smile faded instantly, his red eyes grew disappointed, “Why not?” he seemed hurt.

“I have too much to lose. I can’t risk this,” Scott held the charm of his necklace up, it’s gemstone still shimmered bright green.

“Scott, I admire your devotion, I really do; but this is a bit bigger than that,” Tango said.

Scott’s expression fell into shock and reproach.

That seemed like enough of an answer for Tango, who backtracked as he realized he’d struck a nerve.

“I mean!” he corrected, “I mean nothing will happen to Jimmy. Cross my heart, he will be under the Red Resistance’s finest protection,” Tango stood up straight and crossed his heart.

Scott decided that was satisfactory. He made a face that said the opposite though, just to make sure Tango’s pride wasn’t too uplifted.

“Fine. I’ll join you Tango, but if I get even the slightest inclination of funny business, I’m out,” Scott cautioned, but he agreed.

“Terms and Conditions, I get it. The Red Resistance will not indenture any of its members,” Tango responded with a gleeful grin.

“You guys and your red themed names,” Scott teased, but held his hand out. They ought to make it official before everyone stopped snoring.

Tango shook it enthusiastically. The two called it done and Scott returned to his side, and Tango returned to the Red Army.

*****

Scott traveled back home that day. No fighting had taken place, although Scar had decidedly talked himself into a hole and ended up giving Ren access to any sand Dogwarts and their affiliates needed for the next week. It was no skin off Scott’s back, he didn’t care. Not his sand.

Wearing so much armor and standing in place for two hours gets on ones nerves. Taking off his heavy diamond chestplate felt like enough liberation for the day. He expected to hear from Tango or Impulse at some point, preferably soon.

Jimmy asked him how the meeting went when he returned, holding out a cup of coffee.

Unsure of whether or not to tell the truth, Scott lied, he said nothing happened and made fun of Scar for running his mouth so much. He said he was tired.

*****

“Scott? That you?” Tango’s voice came through a small door in his abandoned cow farm. It wasn’t needed anymore.

Scott pointed his torch towards the voice, illuminating a door, which Tango had crafted into the side of the underground farm.

“Yes it’s me. Why’s it so dark in here?” he asked.

“I don’t want people to know I’m still using this place, that’s why,” Tango motioned for Scott to come to him.

Tango silently listened for any sign that Scott had been followed, then pushed a stone slab in front of the hidden door with a silent thud.

On the other side of the door was a short hallway, then a very small room with some pillows on the floor and a table. A map of the server that included all the structures and members was pinned up on the wall. There was also a well loved notebook on the table.

“Where’s Impulse?” Scott asked, sitting down on one of the pillows.

“Ren needed him for something, he’ll probably be here next time,” Tango explained. He sat down and lit a candle to make more light.

“I thought we would start by going over the basics today,” Tango picked up the notebook and flipped through some of the pages absently.

Scott looked away and then back, “okay, shoot,” he said.

The “plan” centered around infiltrating the Red Army, convincing them (mainly Ren) that Scott had decided to switch sides. Then, him, Tango, and Impulse would eventually build their trust. Somewhere in there they would convince the Red Army to stop messing with people and come to an agreement with the rest of the server. Something about working together instead of against each other.

“We still have to work some stuff out,” Tango concluded with confidence.

“That’s the plan? You really think this’ll work?” Scott crossed his arms.

“If you can insult Scar convincingly enough, yes,” Tango said.

“Oh this’ll be easy!” Scott laughed, mostly to cover up his nerves.

Tango chuckled with him, then became serious once more, “I’m glad you have a sense of humor going into this. Even after what they did to you,” Tango said.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” he apologized.

Scott’s hands stung a bit in response, but he nodded a silent “thanks”.

They were quiet. Scott nervously fiddled with the hem of his coat, lost in thought, mostly regret.

Impulse did show up the next time. He arrived just after Scott did. Everyone sat awkwardly in the little room for a while and Scott was wrapped in nostalgia for a similar time. A time where the only threat was an obscene number of phantoms.

Over the course of their meetings, Scott observed his teammates and their actions. A far cry from who they used to be, including him. Scott’s hair had grown past his ears and turned purple at the tips, and he’d become rather paranoid about always wearing armor.

Tango spent much of their interactions lost in thought. The ghost of whatever was eating at him weighed visibly on his shoulders in the way his head was always bowed in a perpetual staring contest with the ground. He was irritable.

Impulse was a wild card to Scott, they’d never really met before; but it was clear he’d been changed as well. Illustrated by his long “mining” trips, which he only returned from to attend their weekly meetups with no resources to show for it, and a general aura of depression.

His mind was drawn back to the picture Cleo had taken of almost all his server-mates, together in front of the Vibe Machine. He’d studied everyone’s faces countless times. Mostly wondering where everything had gone wrong.

Had they ever truly been friends in the first place? Or was camaraderie a comfort when everyone else was just as weak as one another.

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

P S Y C H (ch.1)

I hate definition intros but it has to be done: The word "PSYCH" is commonly used online and in conversation as a slang term to indicate that something that has just been said or typed was intended as a prank on the recipient or a joke.

Also short for Psychic

Next Chapter

Say what you want about organized religion, but you can’t deny that it is one of the most dangerous weapons on the planet. For centuries people have developed weapons and fought wars in the name of their beliefs. They’ve conquered lands and assimilated nations. Give the people superpowers and there’s no way people don’t die on a daily basis. Unless you give them lame ass powers and call them quirks. God’s funny like that. Most people get run of the mill things like the ability to draw small objects close to them. That way there’s a power imbalance in the world. It’s less chaos if only a select few get the good abilities. Less people question God’s authority that way. Those who get the awesome superpowers are seen as blessed, divine. Honored.  

[Mo.Name] [L.Name] was not blessed. She was liked by God at best. Being an empath, her quirk was not something to marvel at. If she worked hard to develop it, she could use her quirk offensively and defensively or even professionally but she would never be someone who was in charge of maintaining the world order. 

As she grew older she would become disillusioned with God and the blessed individuals that policed over the nations. They called themselves heroes, and a few people were but everything about hero society just didn’t sit well with her. She became a teacher instead and worked with kids with special needs. When they had trouble expressing themselves she could use her quirk to get a feel for what they needed in the moment or she could project enough calmness that they could pull themselves together and communicate without throwing a fit. 

She had a kid at a young age. 30 years old. Not too young and not too old. But by the time she was 35 she was a single mother. Her kid was the best. He didn’t cry too often and he learned how to speak very young. He soaked up information like a sponge and he didn’t develop a flashy quirk like the heroes she felt mild contempt for. Her baby was ignored by God.

Psych.

“No one is born equal. Yadda yadda yadda- How long has he been planning this monologue? No seriously it’s been playing in his head since the day (not really) we first met and I’m kind of bored of it now”

Izuku Midoriya was not a late bloomer. He never got his quirk, he has the extra toe joint, and he was bullied for being powerless. A Deku. [Name] [L.Name] WAS a late bloomer. He got teased a little, picked on. Sometimes people even gave him pitying looks. But it all ended  when he turned about six. There’s that old saying: two roads diverged in a yellow wood. Well one of those roads is for those scorned, and the other for those who who were touched by fire yet never burned. The sinner and the saint. What a traveller wouldn’t know is, that at some point, the roads converge. How else are they supposed to get to the same destination?

Wonder, outsiders..who is on which road? What makes the sinner a sinner and not a saint?

“Using your quirk in public is illegal”

“And minding your own business is free” [Name] bit back. What’s a little telekinesis gonna do? Cause mass destruction? Widespread panic? He just didn’t want to touch the handle on the door. Public spaces are very unsanitary... it’s not like his arms are too sore to do any sort of lifting. Nope. Not at all.

[Name] had unfortunately spent the entire weekend doing his least favorite activity. Physical exercise. Of course with a quirk like his he’d rarely ever need physical strength, but that’s exactly what everyone else would think. And [Name] is the type of kid that wants you to doubt him so he can feel the rush of proving you wrong. It’s a warped mindset but when no one ever expects anything from you, it’s kind of a thrill to see the surprised looks on their faces. A psychic with impressive physical strength would be the same as someone 5’6 (167.6 cm) dominating a sport made for tall people. Like basketball. Or volleyball.

Anyway, [Name] was in the sportswear store, a place he’d rather not be caught dead in, trying to get support for his wrists. Most of his quirk usage was through precise hand movements, a slight flick of the wrist could easily send someone flying. His hands, and by extension his wrists were very important. A punch thrown wrong during training could fracture that oh so important wrist, hence the whole idea of getting wrist wraps. 

For once [Name] was actually being proactive and he was very proud of himself for thinking of the idea in the first place. His eyes glowed golden as he reached his hand out to grab the wraps floating down from the top shelf. The UA exams were in about a week and a half and he had no idea what to expect. So he would train for everything they could throw at him. Even if it meant he had to go back to throwing punches at an oversized bag of sand.

[Name] used his telekinesis so often the drawback was nearly negligible. But if he did overuse it, the damage was a headache that could range from minor inconveniences like losing your chapstick, to a grenade going off in an enclosed space. The big ones weren’t usually the problem. The problem would be somewhere in the middle, because it would cause him to lose control of his telepathy, and once the headache combined with the voices of everyone in a 50 meter vicinity his brain would get seriously overwhelmed. Ultimately he’d be passed out on the ground within 5 minutes. 

For the first year and a half of middle school three times a week [Name] would have fighting training along with weight training, alternating days so that he’d have a break in between each session. This was all pretty much to catch up with his rapidly developing quirk. [Name]’s body wasn’t prepared for the use of his quirk. He grew to the age of 6 doing things normally until his untapped power literally exploded out of him. Talk about damage control. For quirk training he usually offered to help his neighbor who ran a junkyard by lifting cars and other heavy things telekinetically. An unofficial part of the training regime, [Name] would also read other people’s thoughts all day everyday. He said it was to get used to hearing others’ voices in his head. But that was only a half truth. [Name] was just extremely nosy, but he went about it in a casual way. He probably should apologize for the invasion of privacy but he loved every minute of it. Besides, listening to the spirits of others could be considered a god-honored practice.

On the day of the entrance exams [Name] regretted everything. He’d decided to become a hero for fun, less than two weeks prior (the whole reason he went to the sportswear store and started working out again), and by the grace of god he was regretting it. Not because he was nervous he’d fail, at least he wasn’t before he got there. It was just SO loud. He’d gotten better at controlling his quirk since he began using telepathy to eavesdrop but the last time he was in a room full of this many people was the middle school entrance ceremony (which he skipped halfway through because of a headache. By the way how could so many kids sitting in silence be so loud). It made sense, he was not used to having to deal with the noise of people muttering, thinking, PANICKING. And now that his quirk is stronger than what it was before everything felt ten times worse. [Name] leaned forward and tapped the green haired boy sitting in front of him muttering. Not only could he hear the boy’s thoughts going a mile a minute but his mouth was too. The kid whipped around eyes wide and shook nervously. [Name] was about to ask him to quiet down but got confused when he made sense of the kid’s thoughts. 

The kid was obviously a fanboy muttering about Present Mic who was getting on [Name]’s nerves a little with his exorbitant amount of energy. Before [Name] could say anything the ash-blonde near the fanboy spoke up.

“He’s probably telling you to shaddup”

The green haired boy opened his mouth to apologize and then realized he would be making more noise and quickly shut it before nodding profusely. [Name] was tired of referring to them by their hair colors and may have invaded the fanboy’s head for some background information on the two and got more than he bargained for. The fanboy whose name was apparently Izuku, was not only sitting next to Bakugou, his childhood bully, but just this morning he had gained an immense amount of power, officially becoming All Might’s successor. Oh look, two of them would be taking the exam in the same area. Things at UA were gonna get interesting.

[ververa]

Easy Lover - preview

A/N: Okay, so, this is actually a part of a long story, which finishing is taking me a lot of time. And because a few people asked me to write some smut and I have no idea when or if I will ever finish this story at all, I decided to post this part.

I'm not a master of writing smut, but I hope this can be considered a good enough answer to the question - what’s underneath Billie’s dress. 

I'm sorry if this is bad 🙈🙈🙈 Also any kind of feedback would be really appreciated. 

Hope you enjoy it!

Billie Dean Howard x fem!reader

Word count: 2 356

As she heard your steps Billie slowly turned round to face you. She wasn't at lose of words often, but when she laid her eyes on you, she was taken aback. You had on a silk robe from underneath which she could easily notice a set of black, lace lingerie.

"Oh my" she smirked "Is there any special occasion?"

You shook your head no and approached her. Billie couldn't hide her shit-eating grin, neither could she keep her hands to herself. She immediately pulled you closer to herself and kissed you passionately. You smiled against her lips and kissed her back, but then pulled away, as she tried to remove your robe.

"No no no, Miss Howard. No touching" you said taking her hand and guiding her to your living room "Sit down" you ordered gesturing towards one of the armchairs, in which you both spent countless nights watching TV or making out.

Billie Dean smiled to herself. She absolutely loved when you were taking the control over. She let herself sink in the piece of furniture and watched you with anticipation. She could say you were both excited and nervous, even though you were doing your best to hide it. Billie was observant and knew you too well - not to notice how you were slightly bouncing as you barefoot moved around the room or how you were biting your lip and playing with one of your robe tapes. She found you both adorable and sexy, but she knew better than to let that apparent innocence of yours deceive her again.

"Thank you, honey" she said when you handed her a glass of her favourite wine

"You are welcome" you beamed 'accidentally' brushing her arm as you were moving to stand behind her

Billie smirked, she knew exactly what you were doing. Getting to see that confident and bossy side of you was a pure bliss. 

Billie closed her eyes feeling your body pressing against her from behind. You leaned in and kissed her cheek and down her jawline, while your hands found their way to her blouse and began unbuttoning it. You were doing it mercilessly slow and she was getting more and more impatient. She wasn't a huge fun of foreplay, especially when she was worked up and wanted nothing more, but to have you on your knees straightaway. That's why she tried to take the control over by grabbing your hair and holding you in place to kiss you deeper, to feel you closer.

"I said no touching" you broke the kiss and freed yourself from her hold

Billie growled, but you paid no attention and continued to unbutton her shirt.

"Y/N... We can skip the foreplay... I'm already worked up and ready for you" she complained between kisses that you placed on her neck

"Oh, I know that" you said amused by how desperate she was "I just like torturing you..."

"You little-" a gasp escaped her lips at the feeling of your teeth grazing her earlobe

"And making you say 'please'" you added exposing more of her skin

Your hands slipped under her blouse. Billie whined when you started massaging her breasts.

"Y/N, sweetheart, could you just-" she gasped once again as you sucked on her neck "P-please?"

"Please what?" you moved back just a little, giving her a chance to form some coherent sentence

"Please give me what I want"

You smiled with satisfaction. You absolutely loved the fact that you were the one to make Billie Dean Howard beg.

"Since You asked so nicely, I think I can do that for you" you packed her lips and moved to stand in front of her

"Yes. Please, please, honey"

You stopped a few inches from where she sat and took of your robe, Billie licked her lips lustfully looking at your body.

“You’re beautiful” she praised

You could feel a blush forming on your cheeks, but you ignored it and kneeled. The blonde watched you as you crawled towards her. You didn’t hurry. You took your time, before you finally positioned yourself between her legs. You placed your hand on her ankle and then slowly moved it up her leg. Billie quivered with excitement when you reached to unzip her high-waisted skirt. She shifted, so that you could take it off. You removed her skirt and tossed it to the side, looking appreciatively at what was underneath.

Under her silk blouse and tight skirt she had a set of black lingerie with a suspender belt and transparent stocking. You smiled - she had obviously had plans for that evening.

“Well well  well” you bit your lip “What a nice surprise, Miss Howard”

“Like what you see? I bought it for you”

“Of course, I do, but I’m afraid I’ll need to mess it up a little bit”

“It’s all yours. You can do whatever you want”

You smiled mischievously going back to your previous position between her legs. You gently took off her high heels and put one of her legs on your shoulder. You trailed open-mouthed kisses up to her thigh. Then you unclipped the suspender belt and took off her stocking. You did the same with her other leg and removed her panties, so that you had a better access.

“I want you to touch yourself” you said

Billie looked at you a bit surprised. Usually she was the one to give such kind of orders, though she didn’t mind letting you be the boss from time to time. In fact, she was happy to obey.

You stepped back a little, so that you could see all of her. You watched as Billie slide her hand down her belly and moved her fingers right where you wanted her to. 

You sat on a fluffy carpet, right opposite her, sipping on your wine and watching her - skillfully moving her hand.

“Am I allowed to use my other hand, ma’am?” drawing your attention to her face for a minute

Billie realized you rarely had a chance to be the one in charge when it came to sex. You may have been in control in different aspects of your relationship, but as soon as you entered the bedroom, she was the dominant one. That’s why that one time she gave in and submitted.

She watched you out of the corner of her eye as she was touching herself. She could say you were pretty content with the turn of events. You looked as if you were in the zone. You were so focused on her hand that you needed a few seconds to process her words.

“It’s okay if I’m not” she continued “But in that case I think I’ll need some help”

You lifted your head and looked at Billie. The ecstatic expression on her face and her eyes -black with lust made you feel a tingle. You nodded emptying your glass before standing up and making your way towards her.

Billie’s eyes were locked with yours as you straddled her lap. She wanted to say something, but before she could you kissed her. Billie moaned at the taste of wine on your lips. You slowly moved your tongue around her mouth. After a moment she could feel your tongue all over hers and by the look in your eyes, she could say that your feeling were driving you wild.

Billie let you keep the control and dictated the pace of kisses, while she kept working on building her orgasm. You carried on kissing until you were both breathless. As you pulled away Billie looked at you. She smirked and kissed your jaw.

You could say she was close and much to her dissatisfaction you put your hand on hers and made her stop. Billie looked at you trying to figure out what mischievous idea had come to your head and for how long you were going to torture her. She waited for another command, but you said nothing. Instead you used your thumb to open her mouth and made her suck on your middle and index fingers. She hummed enthusiastically curling her tongue around your fingers, making you moan.

Billie Dean was amazed with how you had changed during the past few months of your relationship. You grew even more confident than you had been before and you for sure got to know her body better than anyone else. You might have been younger, but you sure were a fast-learner.

Billie kept the eye contact. She wanted to see your eyes, your face, that smile of satisfaction. Yet you surprised her once again. You used your free hand to bring Billie’s wet fingers to your mouth and copied her actions - swirling your tongue around them. There was a familiar gleam in her yes and just the you knew you were doing good.

You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself any longer, so you moved your fingers from Billie’s mouth to where her own hand was just a few seconds before. She moaned as you slipped your fingers inside her.

“Oh.my… Yes!” she whined 

Billie took her fingers out of your hot mouth and grabbed you by your hair to pull you closer to herself, so that she could kiss you. She moaned into your lips at the feeling of your moving inside her.

It wasn’t easy to gratify her needs. She had a great stamina and could keep going for hours. Though you had practiced enough to know exactly how to satisfy her.

“Honey… I’m g-gona… come” she panted

“Do it” you said

Billie ran her nails up and down your back, before her hands rested at the small of your back. She squeezed your waist tighter. You were pretty sure that you would have bruises in the places where she held you, from how hard she gripped your flesh, but you didn’t care. You were too busy, watching Billie in awe. Her head fell back and she rolled her eyes as the intensive sensation took over her body. She cried out your name and let her eyes shut for a moment.

You smiled looking at her and pecked her lips before pulling your fingers out of her. You licked them clean making sure that Billie was watching. The things you were doing to her… the feelings… it was all driving her crazy. She couldn’t hold back any longer. She wanted to mess you up. 

Before you had any time to react or process what was going on, Billie already held you in her arms. Quickly, but carefully she laid you down on the carpet. She was kissing you passionately, while you helped her remove her shirt. You placed your hands on her waist trying to pull her closer. She smiled against your lips before moving to suck on your neck. You whined at the feeling of her hot breath and warm mouth.

Billie was about to take off your bra, when suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard your father’s voice. Your eyes widened with terror. You had completely forgotten that you had asked him to bring you some stuff and that he had a spare key.

“Fuck” you mumbled pushing Billie off of you

You began putting on your clothes back as fast as possible. But there wasn’t enough time. No matter how hard you tried it was impossible to dress properly and compose yourself.

“Where are my panties?” Billie asked zipping up her skirt

“I don’t know… They have to be somewhere…” you said furiously trying to put on your clothes and fix your hair

It was too late to look for the missing piece of Billie’s garment. Your father was already upstairs.

“Y/N…” he stopped as he saw his boss

You were both standing there awkwardly, trying your best to look as natural as possible.

“Oh, Billie? I didn’t know you’re here”

“Hello, Robert!” she said adjusting her skirt “Well, I haven’t expected to meet you here either” she added, at which you shot her a warning glance  

“It’s nice to see you anyways. I’m glad Y/N has some company”

Billie tried hard not to laugh.

“I came only to leave some things Y/N asked for”

“Reliable as always” Billie commented

“Thanks dad”

“No problem”

“Behave yourself!” you warned her making use of the fact that your father wasn’t looking at you

“Yes ma’am” Billie said, but it was hard to take it seriously, especially that she found you more adorable rather than dangerous and the whole situation, itself, was just ridiculous

“Y/N, you could clean here from time to time” your father said picking up a pair of panties from the floor

You could feel your cheeks turning red when you heard his voice and then Billie’s giggle.

“These are mine actually” she said

“Oh… OH!” his eyes widened as it suddenly clicked for him

He looked at you and you hid your face in your hands desperately trying to compose yourself. You wished the earth could swallow you up, while Billie Dean just stood there as if nothing happened. She could barely hold her laugh back - amused at how both you and your dad got so flustered.

“Well…” he spoke up “I’ll… I am… I’m going downstairs. Yeah. Y/N, shall I see you… Yep. Great. I’ll just…” he shook his head ready to leave

“Umm… I’m sorry, but could I get my panties back?” Billie asked doing her best not to burst into laughter

“OH… Yes” 

“Thank you, Rob” she said taking her panties from your father, who didn’t even look at her

“I’ll… I’ll just go downstairs” he said

Billie nodded and as soon as he was gone, she looked back at you.

“Oh Lord. Oh Lord! Oh fuck…” you kept repeating

“Are you okay, honey?” she laughed approaching you

“Did you really have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Ugh… You’re the worst” you complained

“The worst?” she arched her eyebrow playfully “Well, last time I fucked you properly, you screamed something completely different” she pouted

“Billie!”

“Come on, he would find out anyway” she said pulling you closer “Now, calm down and let’s go downstairs”

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange​, @natasha-danvers​, @stopkillinglilyrabe​

[lotusfartstwice]

(late) Tenten week day 1: Courage

Title: Fine Line Between Brave and Stupid

Fandom: Naruto

Word Count: 1563

Rating: T (for swears I guess)

Warnings: giant spiders and uh harry potter au

Summary: She did not have a deathwish nor was she interested in expulsion. In fact her knees felt shaky and she felt rather panicky as she continued to walk down her path. She wouldn’t say it outloud but she was grateful she wasn’t alone.

Notes: They're about 12 or 13 here? and I hope it all makes sense. Part of the same universe as this fic (if anyone's interested). == Why on earth is Forbidden Forest so accessible? Tenten thought to herself.

The young witch sighed as she walked through the Forbidden Forest. It’s not like she had planned it but what were you going to do? In the back of her head she can hear the headmistress’ warnings of the forest. Students weren’t allowed to enter unless accompanied by a professor or other staff member. It was too dangerous, especially deeper into the forest.

She did not have a deathwish nor was she interested in expulsion. In fact her knees felt shaky and she felt rather panicky as she continued to walk down her path. She wouldn’t say it outloud but she was grateful she wasn’t alone.

On her left was a Ravenclaw boy known as Neji Hyugga. He was a prickly guy, who never smiled just kinda smirked. Magic came easy to the boy but he really shined at Defense Against the Dark Arts. So despite feeling nervous she felt a little better knowing he had come along. She could trust that the Hyugga would draw his wand first and ask questions later.

“What if we get expelled?” She had asked him.

“We won’t.” He sighed looking put-upon that she even asked. “Besides, they can’t have gotten far.”

That had been half an hour ago.

“Where the hell are they?”

“Ah, Tenten do not worry! They must be resting somewhere nearby.”

On her right was Rock Lee, a boy from Slytherin house. He was the opposite of Neji as one could usually find him smiling or overall being a friendly person (once you got past the resting bitch face, anyway). He wasn’t what you expected from a Slytherin at all. He had been equally worried as her for their fourth group member and had readily agreed to help look for them. As far as she knew he was mostly good at theory work but, hey, better knowledgeable than totally unprepared.

“They better be because I’m about ready to head back!” She didn’t mean it of course. She just wanted to find the Hufflepuff and head back to the castle. She gripped her wand as they continued on.

They had been assigned into a group for Care of Magical Creatures class when things had gone wrong. A prank that involved startling the magical salamanders they had been studying had caused quite the commotion. Her group’s member from Hufflepuff house had vanished, running panicked into the woods. Professor Umino had been busy trying to calm the chaos that had erupted. Students were trying their best to put out fires that Salamanders had started. It had been easy to slip away.

“Help! Someone! Help!”

“That’s-”

“They must be-”

Tenten bolted into the direction of the cries only to skid to a stop.

“Tenten! Help me!”

When Neji arrived he tensed before taking a step back. When Lee caught up he stopped and stared. “Oh, this is not good.”

“That is a big ass spider,” is all Tenten can say.

Lee swallowed. “It certainly is.”

The poor Hufflepuff had been backed up against a large tree. A spider as big as a horse stood over them, legs poised high as it hissed. Their classmate whimpered, trying to bury themself further into the tree bark. “P-Please help me!”

Tenten glanced at Neji, frowning as the boy hardly reacted except to stare stiffly at the creature before them.

Great, so much for my defense against the dark arts expert.

“It is probably waiting for the rest of its colony,” Lee said. “It looks to be an adolescent.”

“Um great?” Tenten hoped Lee was going to make a point soon.

The Slytherin drew his wand, though he looked less than enthused to be holding it.

“You know what spell to use to kill it?”

“Well, a fire spell ought to help scare it away but uh,” the boy’s face fell. “I am not confident in it.”

“What?!”

Lee gave her an apologetic look. “I am not good at performing spells!”

“What kind of wizard are you?!”

“Guys! Please! I dropped my wand!” The wayward Hufflepuff cried.

That explained the whole getting cornered thing.

Tenten took in a deep breath. “Okay, I have a plan.”

“Plan?” that seemed to snap Neji out of whatever trance he had fallen in.

“Yes, a plan!” she hissed. “I’m going to distract the spider while you two grab our teammate and their wand then run.”

Lee frowned. “But what about you?”

“I have an escape plan, don't worry about me.” “Forgive me but-”

“Shhh!” Tenten was out of patience as she interrupted the Hyuga. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, her limbs felt oddly disconnected to her body but she ignored it.. “Follow the plan!” Her legs began moving before she could fully comprehend what she was doing.

Defense Against the Dark Arts and Theory of Magic had places in Tenten’s interest in magic. Her speciality however was always charms. She liked dissecting them, figuring out how to make them work but she also enjoyed expanding upon them. Her magic was a bit rough around the edges as she experimented but according to Professor Yuuhi she was quite proficient.

Jinxes were always fun too.

Tenten let out a yell as she stood to face the spider’s side. “Flipendo!”

The creature was knocked back a foot or two, a bit shocked, which was enough for Tenten to grab her teammate so she could push them towards the other two. “GET GOING NOW!”

The Ravenclaw and the Slytherin looked reluctant but when the Hufflepuff nearly barreled past them they quickly followed.

The spider wasn’t distracted long, clearly upset it had lost its potential meal it began to eye Tenten as its new target.

Oh god too many eyes and legs oh god.

Tenten wanted to cry but she gripped her wand tighter. “That’s right ugly! Whatcha gonna do now?”

The spider hissed which made the witch back up in reflex. She just needed to time this right. The others needed enough distance from this thing so she could escape. “Well, let’s do this.”

It was repetitive but it seemed to work as she used the knockback jinx over and over again. The spider didn’t seem to understand as she continued to send it back. Her arm was straining. The damn thing was way too heavy.

“I think...that’s far enough.” She all but panted.

Her eyes widened as the spider was back on its feet, nearly leaping before it skittered towards her.

“Oh shit.” Escape time. Definitely escape time.

Her other hand blindly reached into her robe pocket. “C’mon! C’mon! C’mon!” When her hand finally wraps around the familiar material of wood she all but sighs in relief. She pulls the broomstick out of her pocket in a rushed ungraceful manner but it doesn’t matter. She hikes her leg over it and she’s off the ground, above the trees and out of damn Forbidden Forest.

--

She nearly crashes to the ground as a landing but hey, not bad for a slapdash plan. She shakily stands up, the adrenaline definitely sapping her of her strength. She gripped her broomstick to steady her.

“Tenten!”

“You did it!”

She gave her classmates a shaky grin. “Toldja I had an escape plan.”

Neji blinked before smirking at her while Lee looked at her with big eyes shining full of admiration.

“You certainly did.”

“Tenten!” Professor Umino looks positively relieved at the sight of her but then angry. “What- you-”

“I told you Professor! She saved me!” The Hufflepuff yelled behind him.

“She was amazing!” Lee added. “She used a knockback jinx on the-”

Their teacher put an arm out to stop them. “I- you shouldn’t- I was-”

“Professor, may Lee and I escort our classmates to the medical wing?” Neji interrupted.

Iruka Umino’s shoulders sagged. “Yes. Fine. I will speak with all of you later in my office, understood?”

“Yes, sir of course!”

Tenten blinked as Neji and Lee were by her side. “Need us to help you?”

“Please and thank you.” She considered riding her broom but she figured she was already in enough trouble.

The four of them began their walk to the medical wing.

“Where were you keeping that broom anyway?”

“Oh, that’s cuz I’ve enchanted my pockets to be deeper than they are.” She demonstrated by putting the broom away, tucked into her pocket like a pen.

Her classmates stared at her. “That’s advanced magic.”

“Ehh it’s easy once you figure out how it works.”

Lee smiled wistfully. “I am surprised you are not in Ravenclaw house.”

“Or Hufflepuff.” Their fourth member spoke up. “You didn’t have to look for me. You should’ve just waited for Professor Umino.”

Tenten shrugged. “I’m a Gryffindor. It’s what we do.”

Neji snorted.

“What?”

“Courage and foolishness often go hand in hand, don’t they?”

“Oh zip it.” She nudged the boy. “Besides, you came along too! What does that make you?”

Lee shook his head with a laugh, eyes facing forward. “It is courage to venture into something despite fear.” He glanced at Tenten. “You knew it was foolish but you went along anyway. That is brave.”

“Well, it definitely helped that I wasn’t alone.” She smiled at the two at her sides. “Thanks.”

Neji smiled. “Let’s skip the spiders next time.”

“Oh! I agree!”

“God yes.” She might be brave, a little foolish but she wasn’t that stupid.

[teriwrites]

2020 Writing Wrap-Up

Something that I do every year on the 1st is go back through absolutely everything I’ve written throughout the previous year and compile it into one massive word document. Everything from outlining notes to unfinished short stories to my NaNo project wind up in that file, where I like to read back and reflect on what I’ve gotten done through the year. 

Every year, I end up having written more than I expected, and this year was no different! 

Total for 2020: 203,119!

This is the first recorded year (I think it’s year 4 that I’ve done this for?) in which I’ve cracked 200K! It’s also the first year I’ve ever actually followed through on my resolution to share some of my writing online! So as rough as 2020 has been, I still somehow managed to break some personal records in writing. Which probably has everything to do with the fact that I joined this community earlier this year, and it’s been incredibly encouraging and supportive!

I also branched out a bit more this year in a few ways. I worked on some poetry and prose, which is not something I’ve put a lot of time into before so tends to be a challenge. It’s nothing that I’ll be posting anytime soon, but it was fun to work on in the moment, which is especially important in such a wild year as 2020.

One snag that I definitely hit was the fact that I have a lot more unfinished work than most years. A majority of the short stories I started working on never got finished. But I can’t even be too upset about that, because I totally loved being able to read back on even the fragmented pieces I ended up with. And while I do think a large part of that (for me) is discipline over inspiration, I’m willing to accept that, sometimes, things will remain unfinished. And it’s okay to stop working on them. 

My overall focus shifted a bit this year, too, which was interesting. I worked more on longer things than most years - started out the year by finishing my first draft of Castle on the Hill, continued making some edits and reworking its outline, did a large part of Beneath Alder Creek’s first draft in November. Right now, I’m working on what I expect to be a novella by the time I’m done with it. It’s a big contrast to the usual, short and snappy short stories that fill most of my previous wrap-up files. But I still definitely write those sometimes, and it’s nice to be able to try stretching and testing my own boundaries. 

This is the part of my wrap-up where I go ham throwing in some of my favorite out-of-context quotes from a variety of different things I’ve worked on. Some of them might be familiar, a lot probably won’t. I’m going to post it beneath the thing so this doesn’t become even more absurdly long!

Some of the ~highlights~ of 2020:

First Thoughts in the Morning: wow the sexual tension between me and the alarm clock right now. Later Reflection: wtf? (a literal note on my notes app that I included because I Cannot remember writing any of this and it made me laugh)

Edriele’s gaze trailed down to the woman’s armor, and her stomach twisted. “Where did you find your attire?” The woman glanced down in surprise, as though she’d forgotten she was wearing it. “It was fitted to me when I gained my ranking. I suppose it draws attention, but after my confrontation at… you mean to ask me whether I’m impersonating a Knight!” “The thought had crossed my mind,” the Sister replied dryly. (novella WIP)

“Do you need to make a stop at your house before we head to the chapel?” Leslie asked as they started off. “What for?” Winnie asked. Leslie looked pointedly at the tip of her galoshes poking out from beneath her dress. With another roll of her eyes, Winnie sighed. “Oh, I suppose so.” (Beneath Alder Creek)

When the third meeting for the Society of the Hidden Immortal Tribe was called for the decade, I knew heads would roll. Gathering the entire society together took months. Everything had to be hush-hush; that was the entire point of spreading ourselves out. Plus, every time a letter arrived in the mail, it was a reminder of the idiot who had decided we needed a name change. Everybody agreed that being deemed the ‘S.H.I.T.’ was humiliating, but nobody could agree on a better title, so it had remained the same for nearly a full century. That was the problem with living forever. You always had more time to make decisions, and, in the end, nothing ever got done. (S.H.I.T.)

When she leaves, I’m not sure I remember a word of what she’s said. But as the stresses of the semester wash back in, and my mind clears like being pulled out of a dream, I suddenly understand how one could crash upon the rocks without realizing they’d ever changed their course. (A Modern Siren)

When Georg arrived later, he found Klaus leaning forwards onto the table, staring vacuously at one of his textbooks. "Studying hard?" he taunted as he approached and dropped into the seat Ingrid had been occupying. "I talked with Ingrid," Klaus explained. Georg's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, but he quickly recovered and looked pointedly at Klaus' posture. "Go that well, then?" "She said I'm arrogant and completely self-involved and that I never take what a girl says into account whenever I'm on a date." With a haunted gleam in his eye, Klaus stared up at his friend. "I think she's right." "Well then it's a good thing somebody pointed it out," Georg offered, and he turned to his work. (Castle on the Hill)

Takemoto Hana rested a hand over her face. She couldn’t see the swirling of darkness over her head, but she heard the whine behind its words. With a wry smile, she asked, ‘Do you not know how to brew tea?’ ‘Of course I know how to brew tea!’ The dark spirit’s voice boomed with a defensive defiance that rang false in the funny little woman’s ears.  (The Funny Little Woman)

“None of us want to be here right now,” Edgar called out to the hall. “None of us want to go back through the handbook and listen to the steps of proper etiquette in immortality. But it seems that, once again, it’s necessary.” “Dammit, Dave,” muttered the man next to me. I said nothing, but I couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment. Dave was… how do I describe Dave? To call him an idiot would be underestimating his craftiness. To call him a genius, I’d have to ignore all of his dumb antics. Cruel was too strong. Misguided was too innocent. Mischievous fit best, but even that fell short. Dave was a trickster god, if ever one existed. (S.H.I.T.)

Ridiculous, he told me with a self-conscious laugh of someone who didn't expect to be believed. I smiled, but I didn't join in. (The Little Roads)

“Hey, where did Alina go?” Lorelai asked. Zoe shrugged, but Jaiden cleared his throat. “I think you crossed one of her boundaries, Lo. She specifically asked not to involve her girlfriend in this, and then you did anyways. I know we needed the help, but friendships have to be built on mutual trust, my dude. You should’ve at least let her know your plan before you went behind her back.” The two women stopped and shared a look. “Hey, Jaiden,” Zoe asked. “Do you know the capital of Canada?” He shook his head. “I dunno, Ontario?” “Amazing.” (Mirror, Mirror)

"We had a bet going over whether you'd make it in time," Hans told him. "Did you win or lose?" Josef replied. Hans flipped a 5-Deutsche Mark coin over to Peter, who grinned as he pocketed it. "I'm glad you have so much faith in me." Josef's voice dripped with sarcasm. (Castle on the Hill)

Taliesin reached over his head and grabbed at one of the low-hanging bows, picking leaves from it. “I’m not sure.” Winnie stopped. “What do you mean?” “I mean that I don’t know.” (Beneath Alder Creek)

While she attended to these, the man beside her began to stir. Ella could see him out of the corner of her eye, attempting to push himself up into a sitting position. ‘You may want to lie back down,’ she told him, scrubbing uselessly at her skirt. The man continued to sit up anyways, pressing a hand against the side of his face. ‘Am I killed?’ ‘No, but your savior may be.’ Ella threw her skirt back to the ground. ‘When the Madame sees the state of me, I’ll be spending my future afternoons off making a new dress out of the fabric scraps.’ A frown crossed the man’s face as he considered her words, followed by a scowl of understanding. ‘You work for them. The bourgeoisie.’ (Cinderella)

Ingrid took the seat and began digging through her bag for a book. As she did so, she explained, "There were no other tables open in the building - even in the quiet section upstairs - so I figured that I would just ask the first person I recognized if I could sit with them, and well... here we are." "Don't worry about it," Georg answered when Klaus found himself dumbstruck again. "Just ignore the oaf, he'll leave you alone." Ingrid shot a grin at Georg, and Klaus suddenly wondered whether it was a good idea to have the two of them sit together. (Castle on the Hill)

Up ahead, I could see the glass walls of the bus stop. Usually, I waited for the bus leaning against the metal frame of the stop, leaving the seats inside open for children on their way to school. But the seats were empty now. I still avoided them. (Flo’s Magical Emporium: The Pandemic)

Now, I ask that you do not feel too much self-pity. For as easy an error as it may be to mistake a visiting aristocrat’s son for the hired help, the true talent in such a display causing his immediate departure lies within you alone. And to think that the meeting was the work of your father’s tenuous sway over the court! Well, I am sure the time away will do him some good, lest you begin to consider that you’ve ruined his position as well as your prospects. (Dearly Detested,)

Edgar was at the front of the lecture hall, and standing beside him was Dave, smirking as though at some private joke that only he was in on. He was wearing sunglasses, despite the dim lighting of the room, probably because he thought he looked cool. I rolled my eyes. What a tool. (S.H.I.T.)

 The work is different now. Countryside pathways winding through the forest lie forgotten for years without the familiar steps of a traveler. Off beaten paths in the city are never unknown for long, and sometimes streets that were once crossed by thousands a day fall back into obscurity. (The Little Roads)

“How much time will you give me to think on it?” she asked suspiciously, wrapping her arms around herself as though afraid they’d reach out to him if not kept in check. “You have all the time in the world,” the golden man said. “The boy’s, however, runs out with every passing second.” He extended his hand. (Beneath Alder Creek)

You ever met a rich person? Not comfortably wealthy. Not ‘my Uncle Kenny is a lawyer’ rich. Not even ‘widow answering the door to her manor on a hill dressed in fine silk’ rich. No, I mean proper, so-much-money-you-literally-can’t-spend-it-fast-enough rich. They say it isn’t worth Bill Gates’ time to pick up a $100 bill off the floor because he’ll have earned more in the time it takes to grab it. That kind of rich. They seem to be bred for times like these. Their houses are a source of endless entertainment – movie theaters, bowling alleys, personal gyms with a view of the sprawling landscape they overlook like cruel dictators. There’s no need for them to leave during a pandemic; they have access to the equivalent of a luxury resort most families have to save up month to visit. Necessities can be stockpiled in one of the useless extra spaces in the house. I mean, I once had to hide out in a luggage room for a contract. That’s right. An entire room dedicated to holding luggage, bigger than some of the apartments I’ve rented. I thought their residential labyrinths were my greatest source of grief. But social distancing? I’m one bad contract away from retirement. (Bounty Hunter During a Pandemic)

Shaking his head, Detlef pulled a new sheet from his notebook. “Look, I’m just saying, if we can get the satire right, we can be a modern Jonathan Swift.” “I don’t want to be a modern Jonathan Swift, I want to be a student actually passing his debate course!” Peter snapped. (Castle on the Hill)

Moonlight illuminated the German’s fair hair and pale skin, the effect more malevolent apparition than man. (Face on the Other Side of a Dark Window)

Back then, he’d been known for commissioning the exact same portrait of himself every hundred years, hanging them in a hallway in his manor and trying to pass them off as his line of ancestors to any of the locals. It had been a far less skeptical age, and Dave had earned himself a small band of worshipers before Jeff Goldblum himself had been forced to intervene. (S.H.I.T.)

Clara stood before the board of advisors assisting with her thesis. She was one, very intense paper away from her M.A., and she wasn’t about to risk it all by being too proud to ask for help. When she’d made the appointment to meet with them, she expected a series of questions surrounding her topic. Instead, they’d opened by offering her a job. “You want me to steal from the school?” Dr. Pye wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. Next to her, Dr. Pritchard said, “Don’t think of it as theft, dear. It’s merely redistribution.” Clara hadn’t amassed tens of thousands of dollars in debt to be lectured on the definition of robbery. “Either way, it involves me sneaking into the Chemistry department and taking a huge risk to get you some new toys to play with.” (Origins: The Ghost)

“Why is undermining Pryderi so important to Queen Ceridwen that she would risk breaking a timeless alliance just to dismantle them?” Her stomach twisted into a knot, protesting against the answer. “There are few members of the Dusk Court that we know by title.” A shadow passed over Enid’s expression. “The Lord of the Undernell is second only to the Queen.” “Great deeds build the reputation of one in their own court. Cruelty builds it in both.” Taliesin buckled under Winnie’s weight as she suddenly leaned against him. (Beneath Alder Creek)

“Why are all my friends so quick to endanger themselves?” I muttered as I packed up Midas’ crate. Natalie swiveled around from the candy aisle. “So you’re finally willing to admit that we’re friends?” “Save it.” (Flo’s Magical Emporium: The Pandemic)

[writingfromkitchenator]

The Demon, The Hunter, and The Halfblood

Masterlist

Crowley x Original Female Character

Chapters: One | Two | Three

Series Warnings: A/B/O series, some Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alpha x Omega, obligatory smut warning here (as usual, no under 18′s please, specifics will be within chapter warnings as needed), violence, blood, fluff, angst, major character death, possession, swearing

Chapter 4

Words: 2,606

It was unusual for Sam and Dean to call like this, especially when it had been a little while since they had all been together.  It wasn’t exactly easy between the three of them at the best of times, and now this sounded serious.

Madelyn had little doubt that this was going to cause more problems, whatever they had in mind, and she couldn’t help but have her fingers tap on the steering wheel as her mind worked over the possibilities.

Bobby’s house was just as she remembered it, and she couldn’t help but smile when she saw Bobby waiting outside, waving at him as she pulled up.  It had been a while since she’d seen him, so she was at least pleased that he was looking well.

She could tell by his expression alone that something was wrong though.

“Do I even want to know?”  She asked as she stepped up onto the porch.

“Not really,” Bobby said.  “I’m warning you now, you aren’t gonna like it.”

Madelyn sighs, even as she hugs Bobby.  “I had figured as much.  Let’s just get it over and done with, no point in drawing out the pain if you’ve got a hole in your tooth.”

Bobby chuckles.  “Always straight to it.  One day Mads, you might just take your time and surprise yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”  She asked, entering his home first.  “Besides, there’s still plenty of demons to-”

Madelyn knew instantly who the third man in the room was, even as Sam and Dean stand to greet her.  Her gun was in her hand instantly, pointing it straight at Crowley, whose own expression was just as angry as hers, although, he hid the intensity better.

“Woah, woah, woah!”  Sam stepped between them.  “Easy Maddie, he’s been helping us out!”

Madelyn and Crowley glared at each other, ignoring Sam. “Crowley, I presume.”

“The Winchester stalker,” Crowley sneered.  “Rumour has it, you’ve been looking for me.  I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” She growled coldly.  “And don’t think I’m not willing to go through my brothers to do it.   Get out of the way Sam.”

“Trust me, I know how this looks,” Sam said, his hands up towards her.  “But we’re only doing this out of necessity, trying to stop Lucifer.  We don’t like this anymore than you or him.”

“There’ll be plenty of chances to kill him after,” Dean said, eyeing between her and her gun.  “We’ve got more important things to talk about, and the sooner we get to it, the sooner we can all go back to normal.”

“Yes,” Crowley smirked.  “Be a good little girl and put the gun away.  Wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

Madelyn bares her teeth.  “Just try me demon, we’ll see who gets hurt.  I’ll send you back to Hell before you can even think about what’s happening.”

Crowley gives her a slow look over, the smirk not dying from his lips.  “Well, I’m sure I can make some exceptions.”

“Maddie!”  Sam steps closer to her as her finger twitches over the trigger.  “Come on, it’s just for a little while, we’ll even leave him to you.  Please.”

“He’s being a prat intentionally,” Dean said carefully.  “Are you really going to give him that satisfaction?”

Madelyn finally looks at her brothers, Dean inching closer, ready to grab the gun if she tried to fire, Sam still between her and Crowley, his expression practically pleading her to put it away.

Huffing, Madelyn slowly lowers her gun, but shoots a dark look at Crowley.  “This isn’t over.”

“I’d hardly wish it to be darling,” Crowley grinned.  “I’m sure I can think of a few ways of thanking you for killing a lot of idiots before I get around to torturing you.  For the fun of it of course.”

“You talk too much,” Madelyn snarled, but decided to ignore him, looking between the three others.  “Care to tell me what the hell this is about?”

They went through their plan to stop Lucifer, Madelyn calling them idiots more than once, especially not for asking for help sooner, and then she asked exactly what they needed her to do.

She liked that answer even less.

“If it’s any consolation,” Crowley said, ignoring her furious pacing. “I don’t like it any more than you.”

“You don’t get a say in this!”  Madelyn snapped.  “This is a headache enough as it is without you adding your input.”

“In all fairness Maddie,” Sam said earnestly.  “As much as he’s a demon and showed his true colours more than once, we wouldn’t have got this far otherwise.”

“Yeah, like that’s a great comfort,” She scowled at Sam.  “You really expect me to work with him if you two fail?  After everything that our family has been through with demons-”

“You’re going to be the only hope if we do fail.”  Dean said seriously.  “Whether you like that or not, and whether you like who you’ve got to work with or not.  We’ve got no other choice.  We don’t like it, but there you go.”

Madelyn goes silent, glaring out the window.

“You boys do realise that if you fail, there isn’t exactly going to be much left for the two of us to try and put back together.”  Crowley said.  “Not to mention, I’m still top of Lucifer’s hit list.  That alone is not going to make my job easy, let alone whoever I have to work with through all this.”

“We have to use everything we can Crowley,” Sam said. “And that only leaves you two and whatever other help that you can scrounge up should this go bad.  We don’t like it, we wish we could do something different, but at this point, there isn’t much of a choice.”

“You know where my contacts are Mads,” Bobby said, watching her closely.  “You start calling as soon as you know it’s gone bad.”

Madelyn lets out a steadying breath.  “Right.”

“Maddie?”

“All that fighting over the years and for what?”  Madelyn asked quietly.  “For you two to call me in at the end and ask me to pick up the pieces if you lose?”

Sam and Dean share a look, even as Bobby sighs, and shakes his head, giving a pointed look at Dean.

Dean cleared his throat.  “Look Maddie, Sam and I have been through a lot with this whole apocalypse crap.  We didn’t want to get you involved because we didn’t want you going through worse than what you already had.  This is a…shitty task, I get it, I do, and it’s not the best outcome for anyone, but we’re out of options.”

Crowley was surprised by the dark look in Madelyn’s eyes as she glanced back at Sam and Dean.  He remained silent, not liking this plan either and knowing that she definitely wouldn’t hesitate to kill him as soon as she got the chance, but it started him thinking.

“Right.”  Madelyn said, her tone neutral.  “And you guys got angry at me for not telling you where Dad was.  Wonder what he thinks about all this?”

“We all know that John would’ve done the same Mads,” Bobby said before Sam and Dean can.  “He tried to keep you from all this moment you presented.”

There was no missing Madelyn tensing, her jaw clenching as she wraps her arms around herself.  “Raise to me fight and then shut the door in my face.  Like that was ever going to fucking work Bobby.”

“I know, and he knew that too, just like these two idjits know it.” Bobby continued.  “Which is why they’ve called you in now.  You’ve got more fight in you than all of us.”

Madelyn sighed, but remained tense as she turned back around, Crowley catching her eye for a brief moment before she looked between Bobby, Sam and Dean.  “Fine, but I’m less than happy about it.  If we all somehow come out alive, I think that’s going to be it, I’m on my own.”

Dean and Sam don’t look happy about this, but Bobby nods. “If that’s what you want.”

“I fail to see how this is relating to anything,” Dean said, frowning at Madelyn.  “We were all there, we know what happened.  You almost shot Crowley, not that it would’ve done anything, but agreed to the plan anyway.”

Madelyn grimaces. “Because that, as it turned out, became the first encounter of a fair few, not that I was overly happy about it, and not that I was aware of some of them.”

“For my safety of course,” Crowley said.  “I could hardly be seen following around a Winchester, by anyone and especially her.”

Sam and Dean were frowning. “Why?”

“What happened while waiting for word on the apocalypse was dull,” Madelyn said, cutting in.  “We barely talked, and, I’m a bit ashamed to admit it now, I got rather drunk and passed out.  I didn’t want to deal with being conscious should the inevitable happen and I figured Crowley would flee the first chance he got anyway.”

“Which, once you boys were successful, I did,” Crowley smirked.  “And left her a note letting her know what happened of course.”

“I was furious when I woke up that he’d gotten away,” Madelyn said.  “Mostly at myself because I’d been so much of an idiot, but it started this…cat and mouse game, it’s really the only way I can describe it. He kept just out of reach, but I was always a step closer than what he wanted.”

“Annoyingly so,” Crowley huffed a little, but there was no missing the hint of admiration in his gaze. “As for your question, it’s rather simple, I’d been left rather intrigued by seeing her reaction to the news you two told her, and I thought, just perhaps, there would be a chance I could use her against the two of you.”

“Of course you did,” Sam sighed.  “Hadn’t you learnt anything about us by then Crowley?”

“Which is exactly why I didn’t do anything,” Crowley said amused.  “Don’t discredit me Moose, just because I was intrigued, didn’t make me consider any rash decision.  I was more than aware of what Madelyn was like.  By spying on her I learnt more and kept her just away from me, even, and she still hates me for this, pointed her towards a few of my enemies.”

Madelyn snorts.  “They were hardly worth my time.”

“Meaning they most definitely weren’t worth mine,” Crowley grinned at her.  “Or, so I thought at the time.”

Dean was rubbing the bridge of his nose.  “Okay…so, you followed her around…and, what?  One thing led to another?”

“I mean…putting it simply,” Madelyn shifts a little and holds her stomach, drawing a look of concern from Crowley.  “But…well, you all know that tablets only work for a certain amount of time.”

Bobby stared at her. “You’re meant to change them when it gets that bad Mads.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Madelyn grimaced.  “But…in my quest to kill Crowley, I also had to do the odd side hunt until a new sign appeared or I could get my hands on another demon.  In doing so, I became rather distracted from such a…mundane thing is the wrong word, but you get what I mean.  Found myself out in the woods, probably an easy five or six hour drive back to anywhere, not to mention the three hour hike to even get out of the woods in the first place.  Luckily, I got the hunt done first.  I can imagine there wouldn’t have been much left of me otherwise, but not long after that I had the first signs and I knew exactly what was coming.”

“Poor word choice Maddie.” Dean grumbled under his breath, causing Madelyn to roll her eyes but ignore him.

“Anyway,” Madelyn winces again as she moves.  “I was…not capable of much, I’d hardly been regulating myself properly, hadn’t really had much thought for it to be honest when I was out on the road.  It was far from a pleasant experience, and no, you don’t need the details.  Let’s just say, it’s not very fun at all and I don’t recommend it to anyone, no matter stubborn they think they are.  I was going through that when he turned up.”

All gaze’s turn to Crowley, and he shrugs, ignoring the fury starting to build in Dean’s again, and the concern building in Sam’s.  “It wasn’t planned, I assure you.  I was at a point that I had to stay on lockdown for a little and I had simply wanted to offer a brief period of peace between the two of us.”

“Bet that idea lasted a long time,” Dean growled.  “Just how long was it before you-”

“I didn’t, actually,” Crowley said hotly, causing Dean to frown.  “In this particular case, it was much more beneficial to me to have her somewhat in my debt.”

“Bastard used it against me too,” Madelyn smiled at Crowley.  “And he’s still lucky I didn’t kill him on the spot.”

“You were hardly in any condition to even try, darling,” Crowley said.  “And you knew that.”

“Unfortunately,” Madelyn nods.  “But he got what he wanted, he got me off of his tail for a while and I had time to get out and find some new drugs.  Which was when Bobby told me Sam was back, but not quiet.  Believe it or not, I followed the two of you for a while, and man Sam, you were a dick without your soul, and so I started to look for a way to get it back.”

“Which was how we met again,” Crowley was watching Madelyn as she sits up, her hand pressing tighter into her stomach, the pain in her expression getting worse.  “She found me long before you two had even thought- Madelyn love, are you alright?”

She grimaced at him. “Yeah, peachy.”

“Dammit Maddie,” Sam said softly, joining her side and trying to look at the wound.  “I told you we should have gotten you to a hospital.”

“I’m fine Sam,” She pushed him back a little.  “I just haven’t slept much.  It’s taking a toll.”

“You should’ve said something,” Crowley said softly, earning an odd look from Dean.  “You could’ve gone and rested with Casey.”

“And leave you to explain this, gee, that would’ve gone well.”  But Madelyn sighed, a shudder going through her.  “Man this hurts like a bitch.”

“Colourful language as always,” Crowley strides over and holds out his hand to her, one she takes and lets him pull her up and to his side, supporting her.  “And I am more than capable of telling the truth when I want to.”

Sam and Dean both snort, but they ignore them, Bobby rolling his eyes.

They watch as Crowley helps her up the stairs.

“This is weird,” Dean said quietly.  “And I don’t like it.”

“We don’t know the full story yet Dean,” Sam said, taking a seat.  “And apart from Crowley being his usual self, I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.”

“I still don’t like it,” Dean said.  “That’s our sister man.”

“Yeah, and she’s more than capable of making her own choices,” Bobby said to them, earning surprised looks.  “Madelyn’s never been stupid, you two know that, always independent, but never stupid.  She’s learnt to think quick and make smart calls, it’s kept her alive all these years so far.  She knows what she’s doing.”

“Are you saying you trust Crowley?”  Dean asked, stunned.

“I’m saying I trust Madelyn,” Bobby said.  “And that should be enough for you two too.  In all honesty, I’m just glad that she’s alive.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #312

“robert’s got a quick hand  /  he’ll look around the room, he won’t tell you his plan.”

Do you kiss your pets? Yes. Have you thought about whether or not you're gay? I actually have briefly questioned if I'm just purely lesbian due to how incredibly averse to simply seeing penises I am, but considering I'm still perfectly capable of being attracted to everything else, I'm obviously not. It's just this weird disgust I naturally have. Have you ever had gay thoughts for your best friend? Well I dated her, so like- Have you ever had an STD? No. Would you say you are addicted to texting or to the person you are texting? Nah, definitely not. I always enjoy texting Sara, but I'm not addicted to doing so. Would you date someone who still lived with their parents? Yes; I still live with my mom, so it'd be very hypocritical not to. Would you have to sleep with someone before marrying them? Nah. Sexual "talent" just doesn't matter very much to me, and besides, before or after marriage, you discover what you like together. Would it bother you if your bf/gf flirted with someone else? ???????????? yes????????????? Would you enjoy a night of playing video games? Oh hell yeah. I honestly really miss doing that with Jason. We were both gamers and would do that frequently. How much does intelligence turn you on? Not like, immensely, but being very smart is definitely attractive. Do you search someone on the Internet before a first date? That shit's kinda creepy, imo. Then again, it could be smart for your safety, but idk, something about doing that seems invasive and just weird. I feel like you should learn things directly from their mouth. Could you date someone who had children from a previous relationship? I really don't think I could at this age, at least. I need to be more stable and a figure to look up to. I could probably be a stepmom to like, a teenager or something, but I'm not dating anyone with one of those at only 25. I would have to really, REALLY like the person to even consider dating them with a younger kid. Would you consider donating your body to science after you die? Yeah, go for it. Do you like to be friends with someone before dating them? Yes, definitely. I think waiting too long can make this hard and an awkward change, though; this was the exact situation with Girt. I had a pretty big crush on him my freshman year before Jason, but we were just friends too long. He became my "brother." Is it more fun to go out just with your date or on a group date? Both are fun. Do you enjoy risk? N O P E. How often do you go dancing/clubbing? Never. Not my jam. Do you meditate? No, but I'm considering trying it thanks to group therapy. Have you ever been fired from a job? No. Do you have a problem with racist jokes? Um, fuck yes I do. Is there anything you think science will never be able to explain? Yeah, like the soul. Do you cook fancy meals for dates? Lol no, I can't cook. Do you litter? No. Don't even fucking dare to in front of me. Do you have a career plan? Yes. Could you live with someone who was really messy? How messy? And would they listen if I asked them to clean up? Do you have any shameful fantasies? Yes. Is art important to you? Art is absoluely vital for my happiness in life. Do you believe in fate or destiny? Nope; you carve your own path. Have you ever called your friend a slut? Ha, jokingly. It's gone both ways. Doing nothing all day makes you feel...? That's me pretty much every day, and it makes me feel awful by the end of it. Do you shower everyday? No. It's bad for your skin and hair. Is work important to you? It clearly is when you consider how stressed I've been for years trying to find a job I can handle. Have you had cosmetic surgery? No, but I probably will have some things done if/hopefully when I lose the weight I want to. Do you only date people who have jobs or are full-time students? My past has proven that not always, no. What I really care about is whether or not they show the intention of getting somewhere, like working on themselves and having plans they're making baby steps towards. If the person is without any motivation to get somewhere in life, no, I can't date them. Could you date someone who does drugs? Absofuckinglutely not. Do you enjoy watching sports? Only dance. Are you a cat or a dog person? Cat, I think, but I love both. Should evolution be taught in schools? Yes, definitely. Separation of church and state, my friend. Are you kinky? I mean I can't say I'm unwilling to try some things that would be considered so, but my sexual experiences so far have been pretty vanilla, and I'm fine with that. Would you do a striptease for your partner? That'd be so fucking awkward lmao. Would you date someone who doesn't have a car? Yeah; again, I don't. It may be problematic if they never wanted to, especially with me being so afraid of driving, but idk. Do you enjoy dancing? If I wasn't so horribly out of shape. Do you think men should pay for everything on dates? Lol, wow. What year are we in again? Have you ever met someone in person you met online? Only Sara so far, but I do wanna meet a few others! Last person you kissed, are they into any type of sports? Which ones? No. Do you ever read your old surveys? No. They're really just a momentary distraction for me. What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another? Ginga Densetsu Weed was fantastic. I'm now anxiously awaiting Meerkat Manor to come on air again this year!! :') When writing stories, do you have trouble coming up with character names or do they come to you easily? I struggle with coming up with completely original names; I used to be good at it back in the day, now I feel like almost anything I come up with sounds stupid. Real words coming up for OCs that somehow fit them come easy for me, though. Did you ever call any teachers by their first name? Who? Yes, because some preferred it. Have you ever shoplifted, even just once? What did you take? Nope. Have you ever witnessed someone else shoplifting? Did you say something? I don't recall. Is your hair thick, thin, or somewhere in between? it's thick as hell. Do you own a bean bag chair? No. Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Oh yes, I loved letting the harmless ones wander over my arms as a kid. Is there a YouTube channel whose videos you always watch? No. What a shocker when you think of Mark, I know, but I've kinda been drifting from enjoying let's plays, especially of random games I don't know or think will be good, so I don't force myself. Have you ever witnessed something burn down? Yes. Diagonal to my childhood house, down the road, there was a huge house fire once. Only the foundation of it is left today. Well, maybe they've rebuilt it, but they sure didn't for a long-ass time. Have you ever won a game of chess? Don't know how to play, so. Have you ever picked strawberries or apples? Strawberries, yes. Are you any good at Ping-Pong? No better than the average joe. Have you ever had to put an animal to sleep? Three dogs, and my rat Tezzeret. Where on your body did you/would you like to get your first tattoo? I got mine on my right wrist. What’re some movies you love that people wouldn’t expect you to like? The Notebook surprises a lot of people. I adore that movie. Does your shower have a glass screen or a curtain? It's a curtain. What was the last pill you swallowed? I don't remember; I take a lot of meds in the morning. Where’s your dad from? Ohio. Other than yourself, who was the last person that took a picture of you? Whoever took the picture of my sister Misty and me hugging. What are you usually doing if you're up late at night? On the rare occasion I'm up late, I'm probably really into doing something in World of Warcraft at the time. I go through spells. Right now I'm barely playing it at all. What do you get when you go to the movies? Popcorn and a drink, always. Do/did you enjoy living with your parents? Yeah. If you were to write a story right now, what would it be about? I'm not interested in starting a new story. The continuous stories in RP are enough for me. If you were to paint something right now, what would it be? I'm unsure. I have a lot of art ideas I want to do, but idk what I'd do first, and besides, I prefer drawing over painting. Do you believe you have a calling? I don't believe in "callings." I believe in natural talents, but I don't feel there's some supernatural or purposeful tactic to it. If you could sing a song before an audience today, what one would it be? Oh god. If I had a choice, I wouldn't. If I didn't, I'd have to think more about this. Do you enjoy public speaking? Fuck no. What pet do you want to have? The pet I want most right now is a plains/western hognose, probably of the lavender morph. I adore those lil piggies. Who do you want to be in your life that is currently not? I go back-and-forth about Jason, even though I know it wouldn't be healthy for me for him to have any part in it. PTSD is a motherfucker. Who do you want to be out of your life that currently is in it? Nobody. What do you have to do to achieve your dream? Most likely for someone(s) with considerable influence or popularity in art to highlight photograph(s) of mine. It's why I enter competitions once in a blue moon if Mom's okay with paying the small fee; it's very, very seldom I even ask, though. I hate asking for things, especially non-necessities with our financial position. Are you ambitious? I think so. I'm determined as a motherfucker to be successful with photography, for one. Do you sell things online? Extremely rarely. Speaking of which, I keep forgetting to take pictures of my flute and guitar since I wanna try to get rid of them. I never played the guitar much, and my sentimental affection for my flute has long since faded, so I might as well make a bit of cash off them to go towards Venus' terrarium upgrade. Do you look the way you want to look? Hell no. Do you pray daily? I never do. Have you been through anything traumatic? Oh yes. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? No. What is a medical condition you used to have but don't anymore? I had this very weird spell of frequent vertigo that kinda just... vanished. Do you look your age? I suppose I do. What has made you itch the most? Shaving my legs I guess, considering I would scratch them so badly it left me with permanent scars. Is there anything you're avoiding? If so, what? Probably. Well enough that I can't even think of it right now, haha. What quality do you admire most in others? Empathy. Do you believe that things will get better? Yes. I hope. Have you ever seen a double rainbow? I have. How old were you when you started swearing? I was in the 7th grade. I don't know the actual age group for that. Do you have any Indian in your blood? No. What is your favorite sunset color? Pink. Have you ever had dreadlocks? No. Have you ever wondered if your house was haunted? Two houses ago, yes. Does the idea of having servants bother you? Yes? Do you like crab? NOOOOOO NO NO. It's mushy and just ew. What song gives you chills? Hell, most music I listen to can. I get chills from music very, very easily, and I'd say either "Terrible Things" by Mayday Parade or Disturbed's "Sound of Silence" cover does it the best, but I could very well be forgetting one. Ah, Bad Wolves' cover of "Zombie" is another very high contender, especially knowing the story behind it with how the original singer was supposed to write it with them, but the day of scheduled recording, she died. What color is your favorite hoodie? It's mostly gray, just with a Pikachu graphic on it. Do you have a string of lights in your room? No, but I've always thought those were really pretty. If you were a writer, would you have a pen name or use your real name? My real name. What is your friend's cat's name? Sara has a cat named Winter. Did you ignore the last Facebook post that bothered you, or did you comment? Probably rolled my eyes and scrolled by just to avoid conflict. I normally have to be HEATED to start something. If you were a famous singer, what would you want your hit song to be about? Peace, most likely. Do you have a blog? No. Do you think you are good at writing poetry? I think so, but it takes more thinking than it used to. Do you take gummy vitamins? No, but I wish I took vitamins. Would probably do me some good. If you could do research right now for an essay, what topic would you choose to write about? Hm. I'm always up for arguing for LGBT rights. There's a good handful of topics I'd enjoy writing about, though. Have you ever been tempted to commit a crime? Well, I've pirated things before, so... I kinda crossed that threshold. Other than that, no, not to my memory. Have you ever started writing a suicide letter? I wrote one and am forever humiliated by it. ...and then realized you wanted to live? No, I OD'd afterwards. Well wait... I was kinda on the line I guess, considering once I did it, I panicked and told Mom. If you have a class ring, what color is the stone? I didn't get one. Do you like apple cider hot or cold? I can't remember the last time I had either. Do you use window clings (stickers for your window)? No. Have you ever found a secret compartment? I don't remember ever finding one anywhere. Do you read horror stories? Sometimes RP pretty much turns into horror stories, haha. Do you ever comfort eat? I am VERY bad at that. Do you have your wedding planned in your head already? No, only skeletal basics of it. Does sunlight make you happier? Yes. This is a scientific fact. Do you feel depressed in the winter? No. What's your favorite shade of green? Like a pastel mint color. What channel is your TV usually on? Mom always has Netflix or Hulu on, I think. Do you drive with the windows down or the air on? I strongly prefer AC. How many pairs of jeans do you have? Zero. Do you sleep with a comforter or quilt? A comforter. Who is your favorite American president? I don't know nearly enough about any of 'em to make a fair judgment. Do you jump right in a pool or do you get in slowly? Whew, my jumping in the pool days are long over. Do you use one swimsuit for the summer or do you have many? I just have a single black one-piece. Do you use the bumpers when you bowl? Nah. Sorta affects the fun for me since it's less reason to focus. Do you put eyeliner on the top, bottom, or all around your eyes? All around. Will you refuse to listen to music if you find the lyrics degrading? Depends on how degrading, but usually, it doesn't play a part in deciding if I like the song itself or not. Can you do a cartwheel? I never even tried; I was always too afraid of breaking my neck. Do you have tornadoes where you live? Occasionally, but they're not a big thing here. What's your favorite type of frosting? Chocolate. What's the most expensive crafts tool that you own? Miss Tobey got me a big pack of Prismacolor pencils one year that I really cherish. Have you ever woven baskets of any kind (wicker, paper, cardboard etc.)? No. What's the most exotic spice in your spice rack? I don't have the slightest clue. Do you have a favorite television host? Steve Harvey is The Shit. What's something you're opinionated and very vocal about? LGBTQ+ rights and the pro-choice ideology lead the bunch. The lack of morality in hunting for sport, too. What's something you regularly order online? Nothing regularly. Do you like elevators? No; quite the opposite, actually. When you're angry, does it ever get physical? Absolutely not. What's the weirdest video YouTube has suggested to you? I don't really know. I'm certain I've seen some wild suggestions, though, given just how much of a heavy user I am of YT. Do you like the smell of tar? Ugh, no. Never understood that. Do you have any flags on display? If so, what flag(s)? I'd like a rainbow flag for my room to hang somewhere.

[themoonlovemuses]

A Battle of Fire & Ice (Gundham x Reader)

Summary: It’s just another day at Hope’s Peak Academy and class has just ended. Being a Super High School Level Seamstress, you have got lots of work to do at home. But on this snowy day, it seems like the dark devas of destruction will not let you have your way...

☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆☾☆

“Aaaaaaaaand that’s going to wrap up today’s lesson students. Now don’t forget about the individual high school level homework I’ve set you, and I’ll see you all tomorrow. Stay safe everyone!” Our homeroom teacher; Ms Yukizome said cheerily as the rest of us started packing up our things to head home. While some of the other students were chatting to each other, or listening unwillingly to Gundam’s monologue, I was desperate to get home. As the Super High School Level Seamstress, I had two dresses and a skirt to finish for one of my clients on top of the homework the teacher just set us. I know they say there’s no rest for the wicked, but this is just ridiculous! So quickly packing my rucksack, I rush out the door before I could be dragged into any of my classmate’s shenanigans.

It had been snowing quite a bit during class, and it began snowing again as I passed through the school gates. While it was very pretty to look at, and gave me an idea for a snow-themed wedding dress, it was impeding my progress home and making me slip about the place (apart from sliding down the hill, which was pretty fun). And to top to all off, I had left my gloves at home. So breathing on my hands to warm them up a bit, I quickly put them into the pocket of the custom made patchwork coat I had made myself… only to be met with something warm… and fuzzy?

*Squeak!*

“...I swear to god if this is what I think this is… I don’t have time for this.” I thought to myself as I very slowly picked up the mystery object. And sure enough, as I opened my hand, I saw a chubby, orange hamster in my hand. And if there was one, the other three would surely be in my other pockets too.

“...GOD DAMN IT GUNDAM!” I shouted to no-one in particular, considering my way home was completely void of people, as it usually was. So, breathing in a calming breath, I put Cham-P back in the pocket they came from, checked my others to confirm the other dark devas were there, turned around and stomped back up the hill I just slid down.

As I stomped back to the classroom, I thought about how Gundam and his hamsters (sorry… “Dark Devas of Destruction”) had repeatedly been annoying you lately. Not only were his monologues distracting during lessons, but his hamsters always managed to somehow either get into a pocket of mine or sit on some fabric I’m cutting up during school time for a project. Normally I can catch them and put them back on his desk before he noticed, but with how busy I’ve been lately, I’m clearly off my game. He might be a friend of mine, but today was not the day for thing kind of thing, and he needs to learn to take more control of them. Thinking of what I was going to say to him as I turned into the corridor where our classroom was, I could already hear Gundam babbling nonsense about losing them in the theatrical way he does, and as I slid the door open, I could see most of my classmates were around, looking in desks and draws for them.

“Oh, where could my dark devas have spirited off to? This is clearly the work of some demon conspiring against my plans for world domination!”

“Gundam, calm down before I make you calm down! You’re giving me an earache!” Fuyuhiko shouted from his place at the lockers. The fact that he had dragged the rest of the class into his problem really pissed me off, so I slammed the door to make everyone notice me and turn to face me. Once I had everyone’s attention, I quickly walked up to Gundam and took my coat off, holding it in my hands.

“Gundam, you might be my friend, but for the love of god take your hamsters out of my pockets and try to keep better control of them! I had to trek all the way back here and I was almost home!” I said grumpily, moving my coat closer to his face to make my point. With trembling fingers, he went to the pockets he heard squeaking coming from and withdrew his precious friends.

“Oh, my dark devas! You must not do that again! In what manner did they materialize into your pockets (Y/N)? Was it a trickster demon apparating them into your coat linings?” He asked, very seriously. If it was anyone else, I’d think he was being sarcastic and walk away. But this was Gundam we were talking about. His mind melds reality and imagination together into the perfect little world for him.

With a resigned sigh, I just put my coat back on and start to walk away, I had too much to do today to entertain Gundam’s occultist talk. So I left, only saying what I thought would clearly be taken as a joke, in a clearly sarcastic tone.

“I dunno Gundam. Maybe I’m actually an overlord of fire, and they’re attracted to my warmth?”

Little did I know, this one sentence would be like the opening of pandora’s box to Gundam. Because no sooner had I closed the door behind me, he immediately slammed it open and closed again and started to bombard me with questions.

“You are truly an overlord of fire?” “With whom have you signed the ancient contact?” “Was is the archangel Archanos?... I bet it was…” “You have plans to mould this mortal realm for your own? I demand as your superior to know what these are! Lest they interfere with my own desires.” “You have dark designs to take my dark devas for your own!?!” “Can dark devas even be taken over by another overlord?”

That last question was mostly to himself, but he was getting on my nerves There are some days I can take his overbearing personality, but the way he was speaking...that was the last straw. So as soon as we got to the gates, I whirled around to face him.

“So what if I was??? What would you actively get from this? If you’re this supreme overlord of ice, surely it wouldn’t matter, since you could quash me with a flick of your wrist! Everyone knows ice could beat fire in a heartbeat. So surely the real question is...what do you want?”

We just stared at each other in silence, Gundam clearly in shock, as I had never raised my voice at him, and me trying to calm down, the stress of everything recently clearly getting to me. Thinking I wasn’t going to get an answer from him, and a cold shoulder tomorrow, I start heading home, hoping I can finally go home and start on my work. But he grabs my coat sleeve. Which is weird because I know he has a thing about people touching him and touching others.

“...If you were… what you claim to be… then it would finally mean someone knows what it is like, to be gifted this blessing and curse. It would mean you know the responsibility of the power that you hold. And… it would mean what I always thought… that you, (Y/N), are one of the few souls in this world that truly understand me for who I am.”

At that point, you turned around, looking to see that Gundam had covered his face with his other hand and his trademark scarf. But even then you could see the way he couldn’t look at you properly, and the blush that had made it’s way to his cheeks. And more than that, the hope that filled his eyes that someone might truly get him and not just play along for the sakes of his feelings.

Maybe he truly was an overlord of ice, for in that moment, all the anger and frustration that you held immediately washed away and dampened out, because how could you push away a friend in such a vicious manner as you just tried to do. So, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a hug, no matter the walls he was trying to tear down, you took the hand that was still gripped onto your coat sleeve and patted it in a calming manner. “Oh, Gundam… I’m sorry for snapping at you like I did. I just have a lot on my plate at the moment. You know how it is with patrons demanding the world of you and then some.” You joked, which managed t draw a small, hidden smile to his face.

“I have to get home now and get through as much work as I can. But if it helps, I do understand the struggles you hold. Maybe we can talk more about it tomorrow?” You smiled, squeezing his hand in comfort.

“Yes.. of course. There’s always tomorrow.” He agreed. And with that, he slowly let go of your sleeve. And with one last goodbye and hand squeeze, you ran off back home, unbeknownst to you that Gundam was still watching you from the hill as you ran, like a moth to a flame.

[rpgmgames]

September’s Featured Game: Turovero: The Celestial Tower

DEVELOPER(S): Queenie ENGINE: RPG Maker VX Ace GENRE: RPG, Adventure, Psychological, Dark Fantasy WARNINGS: Violence, Light Horror Elements, Sensitive Themes SUMMARY: Turovero: The Celestial Tower is a freeware, dark fantasy role-playing game created with RPG Maker VX Ace. Players take on the role of four young adventurers - Sigurd, a brave and kind-hearted knight, Leilia, a gentle and motherly cleric, Edric, a gifted yet sharp-tongued mage, and Ruby, a cheeky, fun-loving thief - who have no recollection of their lives prior to meeting one another. Determined to free their world from the influence of an ancient evil, the Dark One, the group sets forth on their most perilous journey yet as they climb the mysterious divine tower, Turovero. However, as the heroes ascend the Celestial Tower, they begin to realize that not everything is as it seems. Just what is the Dark One that plagues their world so, and what truly happened to the Four Gods of legend? The answers to these questions lie in wait for them at the top of the tower… but do they truly want to discover them?

Play the game here! Our Interview With The Dev Team Below The Cut!

Introduce yourself! I'm Queenie and this is my second game that I've developed, written, and composed for (my first game was Prom Dreams: A High School Love Story, a horror / dating sim game available whever you can download Turovero from). I've been making games in earnest for about 4 years now, but I did use to muck around in the old bootleg version of RPG Maker 2000 when I was a kid I guess. Because one of the main complaints about my first game was the artwork, and because I, er, can't draw very well, I also enlisted the help of @genkaiko, @caffeineandcarpaltunnel, @pleasedrawmore, and @meakersneakers to draw the character artwork, title and ending artwork, enemy artwork, and cutscene artwork respectively. Check them out too if you've got the chance!

What is your project about? What inspired you to create this game initially? *Queenie: I've always enjoyed horror games and games that started out normal / cute / cliched but slowly turned into something darker as they went on. I also really love RPGs and adventure games. So, naturally, I figured I'd combine the two at some point, and thus the initial concept for Turovero was born!

How long have you been working on your project? *Queenie: Total development time was around 2.5 years.

Did any other games or media influence aspects of your project? *Queenie: Considering every games I've made so far is essentially cobbling together various ideas from games and anime I love, you bet your ass it did LOL. Gameplay involves a mix of classic Final Fantasy-esque battles and Zelda-style field puzzles, whereas the story and atmosphere takes inspiration from other RPG Horror games and anime such as Madoka Magica and Higurashi. Essentially, dark psychological drama wrapped up in a nice little JRPG shell. Or something like that.

Have you come across any challenges during development? How have you overcome or worked around them? *Queenie: Besides my complete and utter lack of art skills (which I thankfully had my team to help me with!), I also really struggled with the field skills due to RPG Maker's admittedly shoddy collision detection. I was eventually able to make the mechanic work around 90% of the time (and if it doesn't, protip: push up against the object before activating the field skill), so it's thankfully playable, but it sure was a pain to work with :T

Have any aspects of your project changed over time? How does your current project differ from your initial concept? *Queenie: I actually try to fully create a solid outline of my games and then stick to it, for the most part, so that I don't lose track during development. So, to be honest, not a whole lot changed besides some minor details, such as names, battle skills, and combat balance adjustments. Although, I did originally envision the theme and look of the final "dungeon" a bit differently (which I obviously won't go into details about), and only went with the current design because I couldn't get the sprites to cooperate with me and I was like "well, eh, this is the next best thing I guess". :P

What was your team like at the beginning? How did people join the team? If you don’t have a team, do you wish you had one or do you prefer working alone? *Queenie: I did about 80% of the game myself, but I did have an interview/portfolio submission process for artists. I knew many of them previously, and the title artist I'd already had a working relationship and internet friendship with, so that made things easier as well. It also helped that I could share my ideas (and memes. lots of memes.) during the development process so I didn't have to keep the game 100% secret, haha.

What is the best part of developing a game? *Queenie: The music!! I freakin' love composing okay. I also love writing emotional or comedic scenes, then see other people's reactions to them as they play. Speaking of which, my jar of Player Tears seems to be running a little empty lately... :3c

Do you find yourself playing other RPG Maker games to see what you can do with the engine, or do you prefer to do your own thing? *Queenie: I usually just go with the kind of gameplay my story needs and that my developer's skills will allow; sometimes I see another game and go "oh, that's possible?", and might keep that knowledge in handy, but I don't actively seek out gameplay inspiration or anything.

Which character in your game do you relate to the most and why? (Alternatively: Who is your favorite character and why?) *Queenie: My boy Edric and his grumpy yet adorable tsundere ways LOL. I have a thing for characters with love problems okay ;;

Looking back now, is there anything that regret/wish you had done differently? *Queenie: I do kind of wish the game had a way to do something like unison attacks from the Tales series, since it'd be thematically consistent with the game's ideas of friendship and unity, but at the time I wasn't willing to fudge around with the battle engine too much, so I shelved the idea.

Do you plan to explore the game’s universe and characters further in subsequent projects, or leave it as-is? *Queenie: I have ideas for some prequel stories (in an e-book or even a visual novel format) that expand upon the characters and world a bit, but I'm waiting to gauge interest in them.

What do you most look forward to upon/after the release of a project? *Queenie: Player reactions and Let's Plays, definitely. I feed off of player reactions. I crave them like a zombie craves brains. If you play my games please tell me how much you suffered - er, enjoyed it, it really makes my day!

Is there something you’re afraid of concerning the development or the release of your game? *Queenie: Honestly, only that it'd attract the wrong kind of fan - you know, the ones who harass people over fictional characters and over a work not being 100% to their particular standards. Thankfully that hasn't seemed to happen yet, and most people who've played my games are super chill and awesome.

Do you have any advice for upcoming devs? *Queenie: Use outlines and try not to shovel features into your game just because you can! Figure out what kind of game you want and then focus your energy on making it the best version of that image that you can. Sure, my games may not take advantage of everything RPG Maker can do, but I don't think they need to - I only needs the elements that will help me tell my story the way I want to.

Question from last month's featured dev @Teal Crown: If you're working on a team, how do you manage to keep organized? (Otherwise: If you could meet your favourite dev, the one that inspires you the most, what would you ask them?) *Queenie: My artists and I kept up via Tumblr messenger and Discord mostly. I also made a beta testing server when the game reached the testing phase, which was very helpful and also loads of fun. :)

We mods would like to thank Queenie for agreeing to our interview! We believe that featuring the developer and their creative process is just as important as featuring the final product. Hopefully this Q&A segment has been an entertaining and insightful experience for everyone involved!

Remember to check out Turovero: The Celestial Tower if you haven’t already! See you next month! 

- Mods Gold & Platinum

[mysticsparklewings]

On The Edge

It feels like it's been quite some time since I sat down and got to work on a more involved mixed-media project. And in plenty of ways it has, but I have been working on other artsy projects behind the scenes, which I should be posting sometime soon, I hope. Anyway, this artwork had to be moved to the top of my priority list and also my upload schedule (some of those other projects are already finished, just back-logged) because this is my entry into the Arteza Awards hosted by, shocker, Arteza, and the deadline to enter was the 24th. I actually started working on this piece a week or two early, but me being me, I procrastinated and only just barely got it posted to Instagram with the appropriate tags (per the contest rules) with about 20 minutes to spare.  Then again, maybe that's a good thing because I've been known in the past to pull some of my better work out of thin air at the last minute. If that proves the case this time, it would certainly be to my advantage. Anyway. There was no set theme for the contest. The main rules were that you had to use Arteza supplies and they needed to be visible in the image posted to Instagram. I understand why, but I normally don't photograph my art with the supplies because I can usually get more accurate colors and proportions with a scan, and you can pretty much always see the details way better on a scan. But considering the prizes on offer, I wasn't about to let that stop me. I figured I'd just post the supply image first, then add the scan so you could swipe to see it. That way I could have my nice scanned version and still follow the rules. (Also, since they specify Instagram is the main platform for the contest, I'm assuming it doesn't matter if I don't post the supply picture everywhere else. If it does...whoops :P ) For reasons I don't think I should get into here, I knew I needed to go for something kind of high-impact when you first glance at it. But it also needed to not be too involved, lest I be working on it well after the entry window closed and my efforts become somewhat less valuable. I'm not exactly sure how, but this led me around to a concept I've had floating around in my head for a while: A girl (because I am one and know I can draw them better) standing on a mountain top, that looks as if she's one step from free-falling. Originally, I dreamed up this idea hoping to make it into an acrylic painting, but (aside from that fact that I didn't get around to executing the idea until now) I do not own Arteza'a acrylic paints (though I have wanted them for quite some time--It just hasn't happened yet) and also acrylics are not my strongest suit, so now did not seem like the time for an impulse-purchase that could compromise the integrity of my work and therefore my chances in the contest. Although for the day I do get my hands on their acrylics, I now have a solid idea to use to test them out.  ;) The Arteza supplies I do have at my disposal are their tube watercolors, woodless watercolor pencils, and 72 expert colored pencils. Which as I learned the last time entered a contest hosted by Arteza, is a fairly limited variety as to what I can actually do. The watercolors by far as the most versatile and my personal favorite of the three though, so they're what I used the most of here. Also, somewhere between deciding to run with my standing-on-the-edge idea and actually doing it, I also decided to add-in the wings in this constellation style I've used somewhere infrequently but am very fond of. As a result, the whole concept has a very similar feel to me as this artwork that I found here on dA years ago and fell so in love with that it spent a good few months as my desktop wallpaper. Obviously, the two images are very different, but to me the idea of the wings is similar: Their structural integrity to fly is questionable, as the wings in the original image appear to be made of glass. Maybe it matters, maybe not. Same thing here: Maybe the wings are really there and just look like a constellation, or maybe this girl just stood in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Is the girl even there? Is she real? Can she die? Does it matter if she falls? Would she choose to fly at all, whether the wings work or not? It's sort of a Schrodinger's Cat situation, and something about that is really intriguing to me. Anyway. I started out with a digital sketch this time, mostly to iron out the kinks with...well, everything. I knew getting the right pose would be difficult, and I actually had a pretty different one of her looking out over the edge, maybe clutching her chest or something, originally, but I just couldn't get it to work the way I wanted to and I really struggled to find references for it, so I went with the pose you see here, that I found references for by accident while looking for the other one. I have to admit, seeing the final product I think this pose might actually have been the better choice anyway. The mountain/cliff/whatever I was also having a hard time finding references for, at least for exactly what I wanted, so in the end I had to mostly wing it. I think it turned out okay, though. The wings were probably the most challenging part to plan because I wanted something between traditional butterfly/fairy wings and something that stretches out farther like bird or bat wings. I toyed with the lines for a long time until I got something I was happy with, and then I actually went in and did the constellation lines for both sides by hand instead of doing one side and making a flipped copy, because I wanted to make sure I kept the overall shape of the wing on the (our)right (her left), as after all the warping I did to get the original lines, I wasn't sure I could replicate the process again. I also drew 2 or 3 versions of a simple dress over the figure before giving up because I wasn't happy with how any of them were turning out and decided that I would instead preserve her modesty with magically misty cloud-things. Although, it's kind of a shame because that ended up mostly hiding the one piece of hair clinging over her left (our right) shoulder. :P But once the digital sketch was done so I had some idea of what I was doing, it was time to move on to the traditional, actual artwork. I cut a piece of my 100% cotton paper down to size (nice paper because I didn't want to be held back in that regard--go big or go home, as they say) and then held it up to me screen to trace my cliff lines into place, and some vague markers for the figure and her wings. My idea from the very beginning was to make the galaxy largely with watercolor in such a way that it gives the wings color and focus, without having to actually color all the individual segments. This means lighter colors towards the main area of the wings, and getting darker as I moved out/away from them. Now, because it has been a while since I was painting with watercolors regularly, I did set aside a smaller piece of the same paper and busted out a practice baby galaxy before diving into the final. I learned very quickly I was going to have to be extremely careful with my placement of this orangey color and black, less either of them ends up mixing with colors they weren't supposed to and leaving me with a big muddy mess. (The practice piece did survive though and I'll be posting it some other time.) Before I could get to the fun part [the galaxy] though, I painted the mountain with a mixture of black and blue, which actually went a lot smoother than I thought it would. It took several light layers of blending out the paint built up slowly, but ultimately I'm pretty happy with how the color for it turned out...Even if it's still kind of up for debate how much it looks like a "mountain" or "cliff-edge" or not.   With that out of the way, I cut some paper to act as a mask for that section and then spent far too long going back and forth, putting down layers of color and blending them out, dabbing color on and waiting for it to dry, rinse, repeat, trying to get the Galaxy portion just right. I was actually having a fair amount of trouble getting the right color balance, and as sometimes happens with these things, I was pretty worried about how it was looking before I went to bed that night. (I had procrastinated just long enough that I had 2 nights to do this is; the bulk of the painting took place on night 2) But the next day, once it was fully dry, it didn't look so bad. It did need just a few more touches before I went in and added the splatter/stars, though. So I broke out the colored pencils, which I really should have done sooner because they were much easier to blend out and had a bit more covering power over the watercolor than...more watercolor because watercolor is often transparent and there it can be hard to cover with it. Admittedly, I still had more worries about the "naked" galaxy, but then I went to splatter town with the white, added a few pointed stars, and as it usually does, that really brought everything together and made it look a lot better. Never underestimate the power of a good splatter-fest! ;)  I must say though, I underestimated the combination of the white watercolor and white colored pencil together when I moved on to the figure and wings. I was trying very hard to not use my white gel pen (because the rules for the contest didn't say if it was okay to use non-Arteza supplies in conjunction with Arteza supplies or not) and so I was sort of bending over backward to find another way with my limited resources. (Although I assumed using a lightbox to see the lines underneath the paint, as is a normal practice for me, wouldn't really matter because it's not like you can really tell from the final product anyway.) Still, even though a mixture of paint lifting, the white colored pencil, and the white watercolor were better than I expected, I still ended up having to punch the lines up a bit digitally to get them to pop the way I wanted them to. But oh well, at least it made a nice glowing effect and mostly worked for the cloud-mist covering. :P  Overall though, I do really like how it turned out. If it weren't a little on the small side I might actually consider using it as my new wallpaper/banner art everywhere. Maybe that's a conversion project of some kind for another day? Point being, I'm pleased. I probably won't place in the contest because I'm just too small of a fish in this pond, but I made some pretty art and it was mostly fun, so no harm done. :)  Actually, if this could maybe be the excuse my brain needs to get back into posting regularly, that would actually be really great. I miss it, despite what my most recent journal entry and my spotty activity levels might lead one to believe. If it is, I hope you guys don't mind seeing some crafty things thrown into the mix! :D  ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings 

____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[typinggently]

I want to bow down before your writing good lord. Also if I sorta reblogged your prompt list and asked for some, would you mind? I’ve never done that and I sorta want. It’s okay if not. Anyway, Frankenbilly with 10 or 18, your choice ❤️

Love, thank you so much for your sweet words 😭💝💝💝 I adore your blog so this means a lot ahh :’’’’) 

& I’m SO sorry about this delay, for some reason this took ages to write. Also - of course!!! Feel free to use any prompts you want! They’re so much fun and I’d love to see what you come up with!! 💝

(also...I took the liberty to just fill both prompts...I love these fools...)

-

18. coming from ass play only 

Alright, not to be, you know, une romantique™️, but I say it’s an accident.

Which is to say - I’m more than sure that Billy is perfectly aware that he can come like this when he’s getting himself off. But I also think that it’s never happened with anyone else. So that’s not something to be expected, at all.

Frank, meanwhile, is generally clueless. He’s pretty good at what he does and he knows he’s doing alright, but he hasn’t fooled around with enough men to know that this could happen.

Now, the problem for Billy - and that’s the problem about 67% of the time - is that Frank is special. I’m also more than sure that Billy didn’t dream of going bareback before, but the moment the possibility of getting with Frank presented itself, he decided that actually, he needs to feel him, and he will NOT be denied.

But this time, they don’t even get to that part.

At this point, they’ve probably been tangled up for at least an hour, lazily making out with Franks arms wrapped around his waist and Billy’s palm on his chest, shoved underneath the hoodie to enjoy his heartbeat, the heat of his body. (And that’s another thing Billy wasn’t a fan of for most of his life… if you want to fuck, just fuck. Overcooking pasta won’t do the meal any good. But then Frank put his warm paws on him and kissed his neck and Billy decided that actually? This for two hours, please.) And finally, when the languid tenderness has turned into a cinnamon-sweet heat, Billy makes a soft, inquiring sound, scratching through Frank’s buzzed short hair the way he likes. Frank shivers with half-swallowed growl, slips his tongue into Billy’s mouth, and that’s as good as a yes.

Which is how they end up in bed (well, after another 5-7 minutes). Billy’s hands in Frank’s hair, on his back, his shoulders, with Frank’s shirt blissfully off and forgotten about. Frank’s mouth on his neck, his hand on his waist.

And Frank has nice hands. Nice everything, honestly, which is why Billy can’t bring himself to let go of him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, in his hair, on his back. It’s such a languid-sweet heat, simmering through them, leaving them oddly sensitive and a tad light-headed.

And at first, they have the clear agenda of just opening him up, but in the end, they both get a little lost. Billy makes his soft little sounds, lashes heavy and fluttering and kisses words against Frank’s jaw, his mouth. All “Don’t stop, just a little more-“ He doesn’t notice how close he’s getting until he’s already shivering, twitching, gasping. Half-delirious with pleasure.

Frank murmuring something, encouragements and love-drunk nonsense, the words hardly more than a half kiss of his soft-warm lips brushed against Billy’s cheek, his open mouth. And he moves a little, changes the angle of his hand slightly, back muscles rolling, flexing, warm under Billy’s greedy hands. At the following spark of heat, Billy gasps softly, lets his head fall back, shivers and just like that, he comes, with a surprised little moan, fingernails digging into Frank’s back.

Billy supposed it’s another of those things that are special for Frank.

-

(Also - watch me cheat, since it’s a combination of multiple factors here. But I was feeling very soft)

-💝-

10. having to be very quiet for fear of being overheard. – Frank/Billy

Listen. These two aren’t very smart.

Sure, they’re intelligent, there’s tactical thinking, manipulation, strategic planning, etc. But they are SO stupid. Especially when they’re working together. Which they obviously end up doing.

On top of that: They’re absolutely incapable of shutting up when they’re together. Absolutely impossible. They get each other way too hot to be quiet.

And part of that, I think, is due to the army days, at least for Frank. He’s a passionate guy, and he’s had to adjust to living in close quarters with others. Which is to say, he’s been keeping himself in check for years. He’s had it. When he feels like moaning, he moans. Fuck you.

Billy’s a bit different, I feel. He’s used to putting on a bit of a show, he didn’t necessarily mean every noise he made with other partners. But, you know, it sounds nice, it gets the job done. Once he started fooling around with Frank, though, he came to the (rather shocking) conclusion that actually? People make a whole lot of noise when they feel good? What I’m saying is that he has NO control over his voice with Frank. Every soft-sweet sound is 100% real and that’s a little shocking tbh. The first time that happens, he has a little moment of “Wait? What? Who was that?” (A whole other concept worth exploring tbh)

But that’s just the preface. Because what if they have to be quiet?

See, as mentioned before, they aren’t very smart. They’re very into each other, they’re very passionate, they’re bound to hook up at inconvenient places more often than not. Especially since Billy has a thing for Frank looking hot and furious and violent, and Frank has a thing for Billy, period.

So when they do jobs together, they usually know that they’re going to fuck after, so they do some planning beforehand to make sure they don’t end up repeating that one time they ended up making out on the subway because they were dumb and horny. (And like. They have covers. They don’t just sit around with their guns out. So basically, the pigeons taking that line and the two or three other passengers just watched, partly baffled, as these two completely random guys started making out. Like. They managed to cross the entire cart to get at one another. That was NOT one of their proudest moments, as professionals)

Now.

High End Hotel. They’re in, they do their thing, they’re out. Time to leave.

However. You know how you get into those places, right? You dress nicely.

And?? Frank looking hot and furious and violent in a suit? Billy is entirely powerless.

(well, let’s say it like this: Billy could probably at least exceed some self-control and not unleash all his romantic interest on Frank instead of blaming it all on him…but that would require some good will. Which is lacking.)

So what if they’re in a hotel? Hotels have many empty rooms, no one would know.

And?? Billy looking hot and sweet and mischievous with his glinting dark eyes and his sharp smile? Frank is entirely powerless.

(nothing to add. He actually is.)

To not draw this out: They end up in an empty hotel room. Not all that stupid, considering there are people looking for anyone leaving the hotel and just…not leaving could actually be a solid plan.

Not that they’re planning anything. They’re too busy messing up the foamy-white sheets, all greedy hands and sharp teeth. And they really do have to be quiet, considering people might be looking for them (enemies, or, you know, hotel staff). Which brings us back to the main point, which is they are, generally speaking, very, very bad at being quiet.

This time, they manage rather well, at least at first. Frank is mostly too busy being startled that Billy decided to bring lube to a job, and in general preoccupied because, well. Billy decided to bring lube.

Now, fingers are one thing. But the thing is, once they’re actually having penetrative sex, sloppy kisses aren’t really sufficient to keep quiet.

Since this is all Billy’s idea, I say he bottoms (also since I’m p sure he’s way quicker when it comes to the whole prepping thing). And he’s just- he’s just so pretty.

Frank’s messing up the sheets with his sticky hand, his sleek-greasy shoes. But he’s not paying attention, he’s too wrapped up in the way Billy’s back arches, his mouth falls open in a silent-sweet exhale as Frank finally bottoms out. Tense, shivering with pleasure. It’s a sight.

No one would blame Frank for the softest little sigh at that sight, at the tight-slick heat. And at that little sound, Billy’s eyes flutter open, and he moans softly.

And that’s that.

They forget all about their mission and their location, the fact that they should hide… etc etc. Just, gone. Billy’s got his hands on Frank’s broad shoulders, his eyelashes heavy, eyes dark and focussed on Frank. Frank, who drops his head a little so he can kiss Billy, mouth at his jaw, his throat, soft and warm.

It’s almost sweet, but there’s such strength behind Frank’s thrusts, Billy’s nails are digging into his shoulders, his voice breaking on his moans. The sheets end up crumpled, smeared in shoe polish, sweat, Billy’s hair product. And there’s the noise. Soft moans, half-swallowed gasps, Frank’s little grunts and growls. Not as loud as they could be, but there’s no way people passing by won’t know what’s happening, especially not when Frank changes his angle just slightly and Billy makes the most sinful sound. It’s molten heat down Frank’s spine and he has to hear it again and again, until Billy starts pulling at his hair, head thrown back, quivering like a bowstring. 

-

This ended up as an example of when they didn’t manage to be quiet. But alas. I couldn’t help myself.

-

the prompts💝

[lisatelramor]

How (Not) To Say You Love Her

Sooooo. @fugitivehues left a few comment tags on my other hanahaki fic, one of which was how the thought of Kosuke having it was fun and my brain did that thing it sometimes does and went "Oh! Let's play with that!!!" and promptly ignored all the other WIPs I have lying around ^_^;;;;;; So, uh, have a fic Fugitivehues, since you like Kosuke?? Also, like, Kosuke likes Emiko for over a year (based on those White Day presents) which leads to interesting things when combined with hanahaki, haha.

*O*O*O*O*

Kosuke pretended to be listening to his friends, but really he was watching the street beyond their outdoor café table. It was just about time… And there she was. Niwa Emiko, the prettiest girl at the university. She knew it too; she had the sort of presence that turned heads and beautiful red hair that stood out in a crowd. Kosuke watched her leave the much nicer café across the street that she got lunch at every Thursday and walk by, just the width of the street away before she turned the corner toward wherever she went after this. Kosuke had found out about the habitual lunch by chance, a creature of habit himself. It wasn’t weird if they both just happened to like to get lunch at cafés across the road from each other.

He sighed into his mostly cool cup of coffee as the last of her curls turned the corner. Maybe someday he’d get the courage to talk with her, but he kind of doubted it.

“Wow, what was that?” Minako asked, leaning over the table to wave a hand in Kosuke’s face.

“You don’t know?” Katsuma said, snickering. “Kosuke has a ~crush~.”

“It’s not a crush,” he mumbled, hiding his blush in his coffee cup.

“So you come here every Thursday to sit in the same seat at the same time because you really like their coffee?” Katsuma teased.

Minako grinned at his expense as Kosuke blushed harder. “Aww, cute! Though I didn’t take you for the type to gravitate toward pretty faces.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kosuke said, knowing that trying to say he didn’t have a crush again would only get him teased more.

“I mean she has a ton of guys chasing after her on the off chance she’d so much as look at them. Don’t get me wrong, she’s pretty and probably perfectly nice,” Minako said waving a hand, “but she’s kind of weird.”

“Yeah, I’m with Mina-chan,” Katsuma said. “What kind of girl gets confessed to and asks men if they’re man enough to father a son?”

“A quirky one?” Minako joked with a laugh. “How’d she even get on your radar?”

“She was in one of his art history classes,” Katsuma said before Kosuke could try to change the topic. “Sat a few seats in front of him so he kept ~noticing~ her.”

Kosuke buried his face in his hands. They were going to talk about this whether he wanted them to or not.

“Wait, she’s studying art history?”

“Art conservation,” Kosuke mumbled.

“You would know that,” Katsuma said. “She’s probably here for her MRS, if you know what I mean.”

“I dunno, no one studies art conservation if they’re just trying to get married. You go with an easy ride,” Minako said.

Kosuke tuned them out. They were going to talk the topic to death, probably at his expense yet again. He didn’t have a crush. Even if Niwa Emiko was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, it was more that he was curious about her. Why did she choose art conservation? What sort of art did she like? How did she manage to have the courage to deal with all her admirers? She was interesting, and their spheres of life only glanced against each other in moments like this or a rare class overlap. Kosuke was a reclusive person with a few close friends and Emiko was… was bright and effervescent, attracting friends from all different walks of life. People got drawn into her orbit and Kosuke was just another one of them, like a far off meteor as brighter, more outgoing people navigated her gravitational pull.

“And we lost him again,” Minako sighed. “C’mon, Ko-kun. You said you’d help me find sources for my research paper, remember?”

“I’m coming.” He finished the last swallow of cold coffee.

It wasn’t a crush. It was the inevitable fascination that came with being on the other side of a window.

o*O*o

It was a crush. Kosuke felt a strange tickle at the back of his throat as he caught sight of Emiko again, this time on a lunch date. Or maybe an outing with a friend. Either way, it left a tiny pang in his heart and an immediate shame because he was just someone watching from afar. He wasn’t anything to her and he never would be. Emiko was free to love whoever she wanted. To make friends with who she wanted. And Kosuke was… Kosuke was an art history student who would rather dig through dusty records and primary source material than show up at any of the social events Emiko frequented.

Even if he sometimes wished he could get the courage to talk to her.

Just say hello even.

Kosuke coughed absently into his palm. A bitter taste, like the aftertaste of dark chocolate made him frown. There was a tiny speck of something purple on his hand. Odd.

He looked up and could swear for a second that their eyes met across the street, but then her eyes slid off him and he knew he was, as usual, just one more face in the crowd.

His heart ached and Kosuke had the horrifying realization that it wasn’t distant admiration and curiosity drawing him here anymore. He liked her.

He groaned into his hands.

“Bad homework load?” the waitress asked, popping up to refill his coffee.

“Something like that.”

She gave him a motherly smile. “You’re always working hard. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

He gave her a weak smile and proceeded to go right back to burying his face in his hands. Well, he thought, nothing changed. She was still out of his reach and the feelings didn’t have to mean a thing.

The tickle kept buzzing in his throat. Maybe he was getting a cold.

o*O*o

Of course it couldn’t be that simple. Kosuke stared down at a tiny purple flower in his hand he’d somehow coughed up a week later. He’d heard of hanahaki—who hadn’t heard of it?—but he’d never known anyone that caught it, let alone considered he might catch it. He felt panic grip him. What exactly was hanahaki? Didn’t it involve plants growing in your lungs?? Oh no, was he going to suffocate on a horribly bitter tasting plant?

Kosuke spent fifteen minutes having a very quiet panic attack in the back of the campus library over a tiny purple flower.

Then he mentally slapped himself and decided he was an idiot. People got hanahaki all the time. It wasn’t an instant death sentence. Yes, it was vaguely terrifying to think about a plant currently growing in his body. But. All someone had to do was confess their feelings, if he remembered correctly. So. He’d be fine if he did that. Probably.

Kosuke took a shaky breath. He tried to picture walking up to Emiko and saying he loved her. He didn’t get past vaguely approaching her general direction. Oh god, how was he going to confess? He had never confessed to anyone! Or had anyone confess to him either, actually, his romantic life had been pretty barren for someone who was already twenty. No high school romance for him. He’d just been the weird kid who spent ninety percent of his time with his nose in a book.

He almost jumped out of his skin when hushed voices suddenly stopped right near the aisle he was in.

“You have to help me think of something! You’re a girl! What do girls like?” a male voice whispered loudly.

“Look, you could get Mikasa a rock for White Day and she’d be thrilled, stop overthinking it.” The girl walked past Kosuke’s aisle without even glancing his direction.

“Yumi!” the boy hissed-yelled. “Yumi, you’re not helping at all!” He rushed after her and Kosuke slowly unfroze.

White Day. White Day would be a perfect excuse to walk up and confess. No pressure either because there would probably be dozens of her admirers doing the same thing. He could just… walk up, give her a small gift, confess, get rejected, and go on with life cured.

Oh good, he had a plan.

His hands started to sweat. Oh no, he really didn’t like that plan.

“Why am I like this?” he groaned. The bitter taste of whatever that flower was lingered at the back of his throat like a threat. He didn’t really have much of a choice did he? Well, at least this was a perfectly legitimate excuse to actually talk to Emiko instead of sighing wistfully at her from across the street.

Kosuke was embarrassed by Kosuke. Hopefully Emiko never found out about the café thing.

o*O*o

Emiko was within sight. Kosuke had been gravitating nearby most of the afternoon trying to get himself psyched up enough to go over. In that time at least ten guys had come over to give Emiko gifts. They were all really nice gifts too, like perfume or fancy white chocolates or flowers. Kosuke could swear one of them had been a diamond necklace. With every new person his gift of a simple white ribbon felt less and less impressive. A woman like Emiko would probably laugh at something so cheap.

He’d picked it because it was pretty though and he could see it looking nice in her hair… Kind of optimistic of him to think she might possibly wear it though.

Emiko’s latest paramour was turned away and Kosuke saw his chance. He moved closer. Okay, just hold out the little tissue paper package and confess. Deep breath. Just confess. Just… Kosuke froze two meters away, overwhelmed by being this close for the first time since they shared that art history class. She just looked so put together and amazing, not a hair out of place and he had a coat a size too big on with an elbow worn out because he was always leaning on it while he worked.

Kosuke made a strangled sound and ducked away again, having a sudden coughing fit that left a couple purple flowers in his hand, a tiny deep-toothed leaf, and a horrible taste in his mouth.

He couldn’t do this.

Did it have to be a direct confession? Couldn’t he just… leave a note? Wouldn’t that still count as a confession?

He dug into his bag in a frantic motion that probably had nearby people thinking he was possessed and pulled out a scrap of paper that wasn’t covered in notes or absent doodles. What did he write though?? Dear Emiko—no, that was too intimate. Dear Niwa-san, I have greatly admired you from afar—did that sound creepy? Crap, it did sound creepy. Dear Niwa-san, you have captured my gaze and my heart (please give it back).

Why was this so hard?

Niwa Emiko, you make the sun shine brighter when you walk by and my day brighter to see you. You’ve captured my heart and affection. Would you be able to see me fondly back? Love, Kosuke

Well that didn’t sound great, but it was clearly a confession. Good enough. He just had to… somehow get it to her. Emiko had pulled out a book and looked pretty busy reading it. At least she wouldn’t be staring as he approached?

Kosuke edged over to her seat, standing in her peripherals. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He felt like his face was on fire. Oh no, other people were looking in their direction. The curious stares and complete lack of notice from Emiko was enough to break the shreds of courage he’d pulled together. Kosuke set the tissue paper package near her elbow and ran.

It was only once he’d collapsed under a tree on the campus lawn that he realized he’d completely forgotten to drop the letter with it. So he’d failed all of his goals entirely.

Kosuke groaned into his hands.

Well, plan one, failed. That only meant one thing. Research.

o*O*o

Kosuke was not someone to stop at a little bit of information. He’d decided to learn about hanahaki and boy did he now know a lot about the subject. The library contained everything from medical texts—both historical, theoretical, and modernly factual—to collections of fairytales based around the phenomenon, flower species charts with deconstructions of emotional intent versus species, and a good deal of accounts of people who’d experienced the disease. Those ranged from notable historical figures to researchers using themselves as guinea pigs to personal memoirs. A distressing number of those accounts were suddenly cut off with editorial notes about the demise of the writer.

Those books were not good for his anxiety.

But, it was suffice to say that after a month of scouring everything he could find on the topic between working on classwork and occasionally being dragged from the library to socialize and see the light of day by friends, he felt he had a pretty good grasp on the topic. For one, he had a slower growing flower with a soft stem rather than something woody. It wasn’t going to do as much harm as some species as it grew. Unfortunately, his flower was also in the mint family and that meant it was both hardy and eager to spread if it got a chance. Motherwort was a medicinal plant that was used to alleviate female pains, regulate menstruation and calm anxiety. While the former weren’t really applicable to him, he found the latter mildly ironic considering the whole flower-in-lungs thing was causing a certain amount of stress. Its flower language association was ‘concealed love’ which again made perfect sense for the situation, but it didn’t entirely help. Theory held that hanahaki was a twofold illness. One part the body, one part the mind, and that the flowers—while very real—were fed by the mind, not the body. Emotions and thoughts determined how quickly they grew.

Drawing from that, Kosuke had hypothesized that the more he felt like he needed to go unnoticed and hide how he was feeling, the faster his flower was likely to grow. And also how much time he spent thinking of Emiko and whether or not she knew he even existed. (He had to stop that train of thought a lot because it kept leading to coughing fits and his friends were starting to subtly hint that he should go talk to a doctor about his ‘cold’.) The more anxious he got over the whole thing, the more the plant would show up to try and counteract that bit. It was all a bit cyclical with everything feeding back into itself, and the long and short of it was that if he continued at the current rate of growth, he probably had about three months before it reached hospitalization point.

Kosuke did not want to reach hospitalization point.

Obviously.

It made him want to hide away in the library even thinking about getting dragged to a hospital. But if he couldn’t magically confess in the next three months and let his hopeless love run its course, he’d end up there anyway, either because he was suffocating to death or because he went through with a surgery to remove the plant.

Surgery was controversial. It saved lives and continued to improve in safety in leaps and bounds. But it could lead to partial memory loss, muted feelings, or unstable emotions if the surgery wasn’t done right. Sometimes there was scarring to lung tissue or to the throat. And while most people didn’t regret having it done, Kosuke personally thought the idea of removing a whole chunk of what he felt was kind of horrifying. It was like his life was a text and someone decided to revise a key part of it by taking a knife to the pages.

People who had the surgery had a current eighty percent success rate provided it was done before late stage hanahaki. Of those who didn’t get the surgery, there was a thirty percent mortality rate due to inaction and/or inability to resolve emotions for one reason or another (a surprising number of cases involved people moving with no way to contact them). Sixty percent of that number confessed and recovered. Ten percent confessed and still died and why that happened was a greatly debated topic in both historic and modern texts.

Kosuke didn’t think he’d be among the ten percent to suffocate after confession. He didn’t have the black and white, stubborn thinking to clutch onto an emotion until it killed him when it was turned down. He was a lot more likely to just take what he was given and curl up somewhere to lick his wounds.

All said, he had a much better idea of where he stood—not great, because he had hanahaki because of feelings for someone he’d never managed to speak to and he was a shy person, but certainly a lot better than he could have been. The numbers and details soothed most of his immediate fears; it wasn’t an instant and quick death sentence.

He just had to make a plan from here…

He didn’t want surgery, so that really only left confessing. He wasn’t sure how to do that, but… It wasn’t like he didn’t see Emiko around campus. And he saw her at the café. He just… had to come up with a way to approach her. And confess.

Kosuke coughed faintly into his elbow. Yeah, that was going to be easier said than done. Back to square one.

o*O*o

No matter what else was going on in his life, Kosuke still had school. And school at the moment was a research paper that was fifty percent of his final grade in a class on Japanese artists. He’d gone with a local artist because it was rare that they looked at what was right under their noses, and of course, he was rapidly going overboard in researching. He didn’t need to read the artist’s personal journals or go painstakingly through his sketch book volumes, but the university had both in their collection along with a lot of the artist’s personal items and unsold artworks. How often did he get the opportunity to work with this much primary source material?

“You’ve started living in the library,” Minako said to him as Kosuke paged through a biography outlining Takamura Hiseki’s early artistic experience before he gained an apprenticeship with a glassworker. “Have you seen the sun in the last month?”

“I’ve seen the sun,” Kosuke said, not looking up. “I’m outside right now.”

“Because it’s your usual pining over an unobtainable woman day,” Minako said. “I heard that you fell asleep in the library last week.”

Kosuke flushed. He had. It was easy to lose track of time and he’d fallen asleep on a hanahaki book somewhere in the middle of trying to parse through dense medical terminology. He took a sip of coffee only to cough softly as it conflicted with the tickle in his throat. The flowers were still at a manageable level, but from the glance Minako sent him, he was starting to become obvious that something wasn’t quite right.

“Allergies still bothering you or do you have a cold?” she asked.

“I’m fine. You know how it is.”

“Right,” Minako said doubtfully.

Kosuke probably should tell his friends what was going on, but they’d just worry. He didn’t want to be a bother. They already spent more time than they needed to making sure he didn’t get lost in books forever.

Minako sighed. “So what’s got you glued to a book this time? Spill.”

“Takamura Hiseki.” Kosuke held up the book. “Born in Azumano and spent most of his artistic career here, though he studied abroad briefly. He’s mostly known for glasswork, but he worked with pen and ink, charcoal, and sometimes wood. There’s not as much interest in those things though since most of his drawings were done in planning his glasswork.”

“He’s your latest artist crush then,” Minako teased.

“He’s been dead for over fifty years,” Kosuke said with a roll of his eyes. Not that it made a difference. He’d fanboyed over artists from earlier time periods often enough that Minako just grinned at him. “But he’s interesting. I decided to look at a local artist for class, but I wasn’t expecting to find as much about him as I did. Do you know that the university has a room in their private collection dedicated to him? His friend donated most of Takamura’s belongings late in his life.”

“Takamura didn’t donate them himself?” Minako asked.

“No, he died fairly young actually.” From hanahaki, which was the only reason he’d come on Kosuke’s radar with all the binge reading on the disease lately. “I haven’t got permission yet to look at his journals firsthand, but one of his biographies broke down the last few years of his life. It was pretty skeptical of how accurate it was though. Takamura’s account of events apparently is at times fantastical, and the biographer wondered if he had a mental illness.” Kosuke absolutely had to read the primary source material to get his own impression.

Minako gave him a fond, if not completely exasperated look. “You don’t even need to look into half of what you’re doing for class, do you?”

“They want a research essay. I can’t get an accurate read on how much is author bias in biographies without looking closer at Takamura’s own writings,” he said.

“So yes, you’re going overboard again.”

“I remember you trying to reproduce a double-weaving technique for two months straight off of a single surviving cloth scrap, so you really can’t judge me here.”

Minako opened her mouth, then closed it with a pout. “I hate you.”

Kosuke grinned. His friends were all as strangely nerdy as he was. Although speaking of friends… “Where is Katsuma anyway?”

“Katsu-kun is trying to get a date,” Minako said with the despairing tone of someone who had to hear too much about Katsuma’s current crush. “It’s hopeless, but that’s Katsu-kun for you. He always falls for someone who’s way out of his league.”

Kosuke felt a twinge of heartache. He apparently was just the same. He coughed softly again as the flowers tickled his throat. Ugh, bitter taste. “Who is it this time, I don’t remember him saying.”

“You’ve had your head in a book too much,” Minako said without any heat. “It’s a girl from a different university. She’s a senior, Hikari something-or-other. Katsu-kun keeps going on about her looks so I’ve been tuning him out. Apparently she’s some kind of unobtainable ice queen type?”

“So his exact type,” Kosuke said, remembering some of the messes their freshman year.

“Yup. Be ready to go bar hopping tomorrow cheering him up. He’s definitely going to get rejected.”

Kosuke sighed. That meant all of them ending up with a hangover. And Katsuma embarrassing himself while Kosuke played damage control for his two friends. Across the street, right on time, Emiko walked out of the café, and Kosuke paused to watch her.

Her hair was up and she had a pretty sundress on, looking glamorous as ever. There was a man with her, just as handsome as she was lovely. Probably a date. Kosuke coughed again as his heart ached. Today wasn’t the day to try to talk to her either. When he tuned back in on Minako, she was looking at him with pity.

“Katsu-kun isn’t the only one with a thing for unobtainable women.”

Kosuke bit his lip and sunk lower in his chair.

“Not gonna say it isn’t a crush this time?”

“You both called it before I did,” he grumbled. “You don’t have a crush I can poke you back on do you?”

Minako grinned. “Eh, not yet. I have a pretty specific type.”

“What type is that?”

“The kind of lady that could bench press me.”

Kosuke sputtered a laugh, not expecting that in the least. There was the edge of nerves in Minako’s smile at admitting this, but she should know by now that he didn’t judge about those sorts of things. “Have you tried looking into any of the women at the girl’s college? They have athletics.”

The tiny bit of tension in Minako’s shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, when do I have time for something like that? Besides, I’m fine on my own. If something happens one day, it happens.” Her smile went soft. “Though if some girl ever literally sweeps me off my feet… that’d be nice.”

“I’m sure you’ll have better taste than Katsuma or me on ladies,” Kosuke said diplomatically.

“Hell yeah,” Minako said.

Kosuke laughed and leafed through his book again as comfortable understanding settled between them. There was evidence that Takamura had loved his close friend, the same one who had donated Takamura’s belongings after his death. The need to hide those emotions, unacceptable in their target, had been what killed Takamura in the end, though it wasn’t clear why he hadn’t just trusted his friend with the knowledge.

Kosuke tapped a paragraph that detailed Takamura’s private romantic thoughts compared to letters he’d written to his friend and hoped Minako could have better luck in life. There wasn’t a social stigma keeping Kosuke from confessing, just anxiety.

o*O*o

There was no way that this was accurate. Kosuke chewed the back on his pen as he cross referenced dates. Takamura’s diary showed that he contracted hanahaki shortly after his best friend and man he was in love with got married. And yet he’d died over three years later, which should be impossible. Medically speaking, he should have suffocated within a year at most, even if he had the mildest-tempered flower out there.

He’d had a bluebell growing though, which was a plant that spread, and came back, constant as its meaning. That wasn’t a plant that withered. It was a plant that grew just as well in the shade as in the sun.

The theories in biographies had it that Takamura tried experimental medicine to keep the flowers at bay, but if he did, it was something that was beating out modern medical practices because suppressants never got that kind of longevity out of them. Other theories were that Takamura originally hallucinated the flowers only to actually contract the disease later, or that he’d fallen in and out of love with several people, which was ridiculous because it wasn’t supported anywhere in his diary.

Based on the number of rough sketches that snuck into an otherwise work-related sketchbook of a kind-faced young man, Kosuke was sure Takamura had only loved the one friend.

He was missing something.

Kosuke sat back, books and notes scattered all across the table. Secondhand accounts and reproductions of the original materials weren’t enough. He needed to look at the actual source material. Besides, there were occasionally troubling sections of the diary where Kosuke could see why some of the biographers thought he was slowly losing sanity. Things like ‘the cost is worth it. Another day beside him is worth years I might have had without it,’ and ‘the poison is all I taste now, but my lungs pump on, the devil waiting for my last breath.’ It could be a descent into madness, or it could just be the rambles of a man facing his own mortality.

Kosuke gathered up his things. He’d have to hit up the campus conservationists to see if he could touch any of Takamura’s belongings.

The private collections were actually right off the library though, so it wasn’t a long trip to reach them. Kosuke rubbed his eyes. His friends were right that he needed more sleep, but this was interesting.

There was someone working in the collection room, more than one someone because there were voices.

“—one time. I swear you won’t regret it.”

“I’m flattered as always, but still not interested,” Emiko’s voice said.

Kosuke froze.

“Well, can’t blame me for trying,” the man in the other room said.

“Oh, but I really could,” Emiko said with the restrained sarcasm of a woman annoyed by someone that’s pushed one too many times.

The flowers in Kosuke’s chest felt like they were creeping up his throat. He swallowed convulsively. Not now, not in the middle of the library, he pleaded.

“Just finish your half of the project and we’re golden,” Emiko said, footsteps ringing out closer as she walked toward the door. “I will rat you out if you don’t do your fair share.”

“Aw, Emiko-chan, don’t be like that!”

“Jump in a lake, Ueda!” Kosuke stopped breathing as she stopped right in the doorway, attention inward and a scowl on her face. “I should replace all his pens with duds,” Emiko muttered under her breath. Then she stepped forward, casting an uninterested glance at Kosuke as she moved by him. She was so close he could smell her pretty, spicy perfume.

The whole back of Kosuke’s throat tasted bitter.

o*O*o

Kosuke paused on one of the doodles. It looked familiar. Actually, he’d seen one in an earlier journal… He snatched up a diary he’d been reading earlier. Yes, there was the same doodle, just with a slight difference in the middle, like the round design had been rotated a quarter turn. It had been out of place for the diary—Takamura had generally kept his writing journals for writing and his sketching ones for sketching. That was the only reason Kosuke remembered it. It was just as out of place in the sketch journal too though; the ink was a darker black than the rest of the page like it was added at a later date, and none of the other sketches so far had been anything beyond glasswork designs or the occasional nature study where Takamura had gained inspiration from things he saw on his walks. The doodle was abstract, almost geometric if not for the interlocking swirls around the center.

The more he looked at it, the more he had the niggling sensation that he’d seen that exact pattern before, and not in one of the journals.

Kosuke tapped the back of his pen against the table. Where? Where would he have seen it? A drawing? A photo? Maybe something from the exhibit with Takamura’s reconstructed study? He glanced at the brochure, paused. Oh, the desk. It had a pretty, decorative front panel in the center with drawers on either side. It wasn’t any bigger than Kosuke’s fist, but he remembered it looking vaguely like the doodle. He’d thought that the round design had been different though…

The biographies hadn’t found the doodles significant. Nor had the annotated sketchbooks. But… But there were two doodles, if not more…

Kosuke flipped through the diary for any more doodles, finding none, tried another. There. A third doodle… Almost identical to the others but yet another shift in the round central design. It was like… Kosuke paused, sitting up straight. It was like a combination lock. Rotate one direction, then the other, then back again, though what order or how far was difficult to tell based on the simplistic sketch.

Honestly, he should probably not be wasting time puzzling over something like this when it wouldn’t be anything to add to his essay, but it was interesting. And the idea that he’d noticed something that no one else might have filled Kosuke with a tiny thrill of excitement. He had to test this.

o*O*o

The sequence, once he sat down and worked it out had been simple. The desk was never meant to be difficult to open, just not obvious in its hiding spot. The order was sequential based off of when the journals were used. Kosuke pressed a gloved hand carefully on the carved wooden panel and turned the carving just the way the doodles showed. It moved far easier than he’d expect for a piece of wood that hadn’t been touched in decades, almost like it was just waiting to be used again.

When he tugged, a tiny compartment pulled out, perfectly sized and shaped to hold its contents, and probably why no one had realized it existed; it wouldn’t have sounded hollow.

A crystal bottle, tiny and filled with liquid tipped into his palm along with a piece of parchment, folded in on itself until it could be squeezed under the bottle. The vial was beautiful, a master work in glass. Kosuke examined how the light refracted along it before setting it down and unfolding the parchment with careful fingers. Thankfully it wasn’t brittle enough to crack even if it didn’t really want to unfold. On it in Takamura’s spiky handwriting it said:

I sold myself for a few more years with the one I love. May my price grant whoever finds this a few with their love as well.

Kosuke puzzled that, turned the parchment over, but there weren’t any more words. Kosuke could only assume it referred to Takamura’s hanahaki, but what price he paid and how it related to the compartment was less clear. Unless… Kosuke glanced at the bottle. Unless the bottle had something to do with how he’d vastly outlived the average life expectancy of untreated hanahaki. Unless this was the experimental substance that no one had ever been able to find.

What he should be doing was getting one of the staff and showing them what he learned.

What Kosuke did was pocket the vial, feeling like a thief—and wasn’t he one though? Wasn’t it theft to steal from university property?—and calmly walk out of the storage room.

If this was the suppressing factor for Takamura’s hanahaki, it could be revolutionary. Or at the very least it could buy Kosuke some much needed time.

o*O*o

Kosuke almost tried the vial immediately, only the last second realization that ingesting an unknown substance from a vial hidden in a desk drawer was kind of an idiotic thing to do made him pause and realize that this required testing. Testing that required another living thing, which was how Kosuke found himself at the park pond in the middle of the night catching frogs because he couldn’t bring himself to possibly hurt something that was cute or furry. Not that he didn’t feel horrifically guilty catching the frogs; frogs just had less expressive faces than tiny mice in pet shops that blinked wide, dark eyes at him and… Yeah, Kosuke felt kind of terrible about this.

But he also didn’t want to possibly kill himself, so experimentation it was. One of the frogs he’d caught glared balefully at him as he held the vial’s dropper above it, biting his lip unhappily. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “It shouldn’t kill you but I’m sorry if it does.” The frog squirmed as a drop landed on its skin, but nothing happened beyond him holding an angry, squirmy frog. “Oh thank goodness.” But what if it was poisonous if ingested? Or over time?

Kosuke eyed the bowl with foil and holes he’d stashed the frogs in and pulled out another, placing the first back in. After a few minutes of struggle he managed to get a drop in its mouth and other than angry frog croaking, there still wasn’t any, er, croaking happening. Only time would tell if it was just too soon to say.

He put the frog back in the bowl and sat on slightly muddy grass. When he decided to go to university, he never thought he’d one day end up catching frogs in the middle of the night because he had hanahaki and really hoped that a mystery bottle would help stave it off. He never thought he’d get hanahaki at all.

He looked at the vial. Even in the dark with only the moon for light, it was pretty. It almost seemed to glow, though he kind of hoped he was imagining that. This wasn’t the sort of thing he could talk to anyone about either. What was he supposed to tell his friends? That he stole a historical glasswork from the campus museum that no one knew existed that might also maybe kind of sort of be a magic stopgap for hanahaki? Yeah, that would go over just fine. He’d just wanted to pursue his interests, one of which was spending copious amounts of time reading about obscure things. Emotions like love happening never factored into it.

In the bowl, the frogs kept moving around unhappily. At least he hadn’t killed them. Yet. Oof, no that sounded like he wanted to kill them and he really didn’t. Kosuke sighed and reached for the bowl. Except there was a patch of water mint blooming right near it. If the vial did hold a substance that effected hanahaki… He pulled out the dropper again, letting a single drop of liquid fall onto one of the mint blossoms.

Instantly, the whole plant wilted and the flowers went dead.

“Oh.” Kosuke stoppered the bottle. “Shit.”

That was scarily effective. Not even weed killer worked that fast or effective.

He laughed nervously to himself, feeling his breath catch in his lungs on the plant growing there. Well. Well… If the frogs were alive tomorrow, he might test it on himself.

If that worked, he might just have time to think of a proper plan after all.

o*O*o

It tasted disgusting, bitter like his flower was bitter, but also sour and the faintest bit sweet the way rotting things could smell sweet along with the stench of rot. Kosuke grimaced and set the vial back down and waited, holed up in the privacy of his apartment with a bowl full of still-unhappy-yet-alive frogs. A second passed, two, and he could feel his chest ease, his breathing stop aching. It almost felt like before he had hanahaki at all.

He took a deep breath and relished how it didn’t catch at all, how no hint of a cough rattled in his chest. Oh. Maybe he’d been further along in the disease than he thought if one drop made that big of a difference. But he didn’t know how long it would last. Clearly not forever or Takamura wouldn’t have died from it, but it helped, made Kosuke feel better than he had in the last month at least.

He sent his fervent thanks to Takamura, wherever his spirit might be.

Minutes ticked on and he did not die and he kept breathing.

This, he reminded himself sternly, was a stop-gap measure. Not a cure. He still had to confess to Emiko.

It was so, so tempting to just… pretend. Go back to his usual life and throw himself wholeheartedly into working and studying and shove down any emotional issues like they didn’t exist. But doing that would get him killed. Kosuke sighed. Emiko had a birthday coming up so he could try again then. Just one more person in the crowd that had well-wishes and ulterior motives, he thought cynically.

It was no wonder no one caught Emiko’s attention. They were all trying so hard to one up each other, but had any of them actually taken any time to get to know her? Or were they all, himself included he supposed, just charmed by her appearance? Kosuke liked to think he wasn’t that shallow, but he didn’t know her well. He just knew that she cared about art like he did and that she was beautiful and that she was smart if her grades were anything to go by. He wanted to know more though. He didn’t want to snatch her up and have her on his arm like some sort of trophy. He wanted to ask her what she thought about what was considered art, or if she had a favorite artist, or what her thoughts were on the cultural revolution that had left hundreds of art pieces destroyed and culture lost or irrevocably changed for reasons he still couldn’t explain. He wanted to know if she liked research as much as he did or if she believed in restoring art rather than merely preserving it. What she thought about how museums could sustainably and ethically procure art pieces. If she liked history or if she cared more for physical art than where and when it came from…

Kosuke sighed.

For someone so popular, Emiko was a mystery. She was friendly and emotionally open about anything in the moment and completely closed about her family life or what she thought about the big things in life. She wanted to have a son, everyone knew that, but no one knew why.

Kosuke wanted to know her and it hurt to think about if he let himself. He didn’t let himself often.

What, he wondered, fingers playing with the glass stopper in the vial, would she think of the hidden artwork Kosuke found? That he should share it with the world or that it was okay that he was keeping it for his own personal gain for the moment?

That question, like all his questions, had no answer. One day he’d have to actually talk to her and find out.

o*O*o

Kosuke finished his paper on Takamura—above the page and reference count by far which hopefully wouldn’t get too much exasperation from his professor—and dove into finals while plotting how he was going to confess to Emiko. Using a flower as a gift felt a little too on the nose considering the situation, but he wasn’t sure what to give a woman who had nice things and the ability to buy herself far better jewelry or trinkets than Kosuke could afford. Not to mention that she’d receive nicer things from everyone else around her. He’d settled on a pretty bookmark as it was both practical and aesthetically appealing, but even practicing how he’d approach the gift and confession wasn’t going well when it was his own reflection he was talking to.

He didn’t really have much hope about getting it right.

The day came and Kosuke showed up outside one of her class buildings… and promptly got lost in the crowd of six other men there to get Emiko’s attention as well.

Well.

Kosuke watched her manage their enthusiasm and be simultaneously receptive and dismissive, listing reasons why she wasn’t interested in dating them but thanking them for their gift and attention, and he felt… not jealous, but perhaps a bit lost. It was another moment where she felt like she was on a different level than him.

He was so caught up in watching her handle it that he somehow missed the exact moment she managed to disengage from her admirers and sweep out the building. Kosuke was left standing with a gift hidden up his sleeve and a bunch of men comforting each other in their rejection.

“She hasn’t said yes to anyone once,” one said. “But there’s just something about an unobtainable woman…”

Unobtainable. Like she was a prize. Kosuke disliked that line of thinking. But she did feel unreachable. Emiko was as human as any of them but sometimes it didn’t feel that way with how confidently she confronted her world. They might as well be existing on different planes for all that Kosuke seemed to be able to bridge that gap.

What did it say about himself that he’d fallen for someone that he couldn’t even talk to? And yet he desperately wanted to.

Kosuke coughed, coughed again and had to duck into an unused classroom when it became a full blown attack. There were bits of stem mixed in with flower clumps, broad forked leaves. The bitter, bitter taste in his throat. Kosuke slid a cough drop in his mouth just to chase away the flavor with strong, numbing menthol. He was progressing more and more toward full flower stems and less toward scattered flower parts. His emotions hadn’t fully bloomed yet, but they were close.

He took a drop of the hanahaki suppressant. It didn’t remove the strain in his throat, but it let him breathe clearly. He didn’t know how often it was safe to use, but he’d slowly been needing it more, from once every several days to a little more than every other day, depending on the day. How many months would he last with it? How long until he started finding blood or fractured a rib? Soft-stem flowers had a longer threshold of time before they caused bleeding in the lungs. But because of that the coughing attacks could get worse before that point and hurt the body other ways.

There wasn’t much to do beyond keep moving forward.

o*O*o

Summer brought a few weeks of rest between semesters and a move to a new apartment; Kosuke’s old one had been slowly creeping out of his budget range. He needed a part time job to balance things, but he had too much going on in his life to have time for one.

Minako and Katsuma helped him move his things to his new smaller, and much sketchier apartment with the help of Kastsuma’s car. Kosuke pretended not to notice their concern when he was easily winded carrying boxes up one flight of stairs. Or how Minako narrowed her eyes at the couple of coughs he couldn’t suppress.

“Rest,” she pressed when Kosuke tried to start unpacking immediately. “You look like hell lately. Just take the break to actually recover, okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kosuke protested.

Katsuma smacked him on the back. “Sure you are. And there aren’t tanuki rings under your eyes. If I wasn’t going home to visit my family, I’d make sure you got some damn rest. Because I am going home you better call at least every other day to tell me how you managed to relax that day.”

“I’m not that bad,” Kosuke complained. Minako and Kastsuma had their own bad habits.

Minako patted Katsuma’s arm in a solidarity that annoyed Kosuke. “I’ll check in on him. I have more hours at work over break though so I can’t drag him to the beach or anything.”

“If he went to a beach he’d burn to a crisp. He doesn’t see enough sunlight.”

Kosuke rolled his eyes and let his friends help put away all of his belongings in the tiny space. He had a box leftover that couldn’t go anywhere and just sat in the corner.

“You need a job,” Minako said.

“I can’t rest if I’m working,” Kosuke pointed out snidely.

Katsuma cuffed him over the back of the head. “Don’t be an ass.”

Kosuke sighed. “How’s your girlfriend search going?”

Katsuma wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, you’re in a mood. For your information I’ve been exchanging letters with a girl. She likes kind of old fashioned courting. It’s going great.”

Now Kosuke felt like a jerk for trying to dig at Katsuma’s usual insecurity and because he hadn’t even known this was going on. Maybe they had a point that he was getting too caught up in his head.

“Are you visiting your family over the summer?” Minako asked Kosuke.

“No.” Katsuma was close to his family. Minako’s lived on the other side of Japan, too far to casually visit. Kosuke’s family… There had been a lot of absences growing up. There were reasons that books were a refuge. Going months without hearing from his parents or them from him was nothing new. If they ever suddenly took an interest in his life, he wouldn’t know what to do with it.

An awkward silence followed that.

“Well,” Minako said, “my parents are visiting next week. You’re welcome to go out to dinner with us. You know, to prove I can make friends in the big city and all.”

Kosuke smiled, a peace offering.  “I’ll think about it.”

Katsuma, proving himself yet again as a good friend, announced they were getting food delivered and having a party to celebrate the new apartment despite it being the least celebratory environment possible.

Kosuke tried to keep in the moment with them for as long as they were there. He hadn’t been the best friend lately.

The move brought unexpected results. As in the fact that Kosuke suddenly found himself sharing a train stop with Emiko. Before they’d occasionally shared a train if they left campus at the same time, but now they lived in a neighborhood close enough that they used the same stop to get to the campus as well as get home. And Kosuke was aware of every meter between them and how Emiko looked radiant in a sun dress.

The universe sure did like to laugh at each new way Kosuke tied himself into knots over things.

o*O*o

It was somewhere between torture and comfort to see Emiko on the train so often. Kosuke could tell when she was having a good or bad day based on how she was dressed, the state of her hair, and how large of a travel mug she had at any given time.

It was probably creepy that he knew that.

There was a bell-curve to how she presented herself. On the days she was at her best and the days she was at her worst, seemed to be the times she was perfectly dressed. Like making herself that much more beautiful was both a pleasure and also a shield.

Kosuke liked the days where she was a bit less made up, where her hair was a bit flyaway and she would read on the way to their stop. She looked comfortable, and more than that, she looked human instead of unreachable. He was never telling her that though.

As the summer ended and they moved back into the next semester, Kosuke found himself orbiting her from a distance, part of the background of her life, but never quite part of it no matter how many times they almost brushed paths or coexisted in space. There were men who came and went around her, and a few bright-faced female friends in her life. There was an older man with graying red hair that sometimes accompanied her who might have been a relative or her father. There were several not-quite-dates he saw occurring in glimpses as he was moving through campus that were more likely Emiko grilling want-to-be beaus on their family history.

There was an invisible line between them that Kosuke was slowly feeling resigned to never cross. Emiko, on the whole, was happy, and he was glad for that. She didn’t need anyone in her life for all that she seemed intent to find someone. As always, he wondered why because she was an independent and driven person. And yet motherhood was one of her main life goals.

Kosuke mentally slapped the judgmental side of himself because, well, who could judge when they didn’t know the motivations? And what was wrong with wanting to be a parent? Even he could admit that it would be nice to have a child someday. To holding a small being and knowing that some part of them came from you. That they were so tiny and new and would one day be as much of a person as any other, living and thinking and dreaming. It was awe inspiring, humbling and terrifying in equal measure.

If he got the nerve, perhaps that would be what he said to her first. Not a confession, but a question. That need to understand outstripped the part of him that said getting a cure to his disease was the bigger priority.

But Kosuke still couldn’t do it, and time dragged on, routine turning into stagnation, and inaction making the task grow from something intimidating to something that felt impossible.

Kosuke knew he was making things complicated and it was all in his head, but that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t have hanahaki in the first place if his mind and heart didn’t work a certain way.

o*O*o

“This,” a familiar voice said, “is an intervention.”

“Eh?” Kosuke stifled a cough behind his cold mask, looking up to find Minako and Katsuma standing grim-faced in front of him. It was Katsuma who’d spoken. Minako had somehow confiscated half the library books he’d had strewn about the table without him even noticing either of them there. Kosuke blinked and sat back. “An intervention for what? I haven’t even been in the library tw—” He glanced at his watch. “Three hours yet.” It was a weekend day, and normally the only time his friends dragged him away was when he’d spent multiple weekends holed up. But he’d gone out with them the night before. And he’d made a point of arranging brunch on Sunday to try to be less antisocial than he had been lately.

Minako and Katsuma exchanged inscrutable looks. Katsuma set both palms on the table before Kosuke. “We’re your friends,” Katsuma said. “And as your friends, we’ve been trying to give you space and time to talk to us. But there’s only so long we can wait for you. Kosuke, how long have you had that cough?”

As if on cue, Kosuke had to stifle another small cough. “Um. For a while. On and off.”

“Months,” Minako said. “It’s been months. It got a little better, but it never went away. That’s not a cold. Colds don’t last over six months.”

“Maybe I just keep getting sick,” Kosuke said with the sinking feeling that he should have had a cover story ready. It hadn’t occurred to him that anyone would bring the coughing up, which in retrospect was kind of stupid. Especially when he had friends who cared enough to go out of their way to drag him out to get fresh air and sunlight on the regular.

“You’d have a week here and there being better if that was the case,” Minako said.

“Instead,” Katsuma said, “it’s been getting worse.” He reached out and tapped Kosuke’s mask. Kosuke leaned away. “You weren’t wearing that before. You stopped even noticing when you were coughing so you put that on to stop coughing over everything, right?”

Kosuke felt a bit trapped even though theoretically he could push his chair away from the table and walk away if he wanted to. “I have a cold.” He had actually had a very mild cold, the sniffles making his hanahaki cough worse, but it had only lasted him a few days. He’d kept the mask because his throat never recovered even if the rest of him had.

“Have you seen a doctor yet?” Katsuma asked seriously.

“I…” He hadn’t. Between knowing what they’d tell him about his hanahaki and being a little scared to find out if the magic vial of suppressant was harming the rest of his body he hadn’t exactly been diligent on keeping up with his usual health screenings.

“Well you’re going to.” Minako and Katsuma both put a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t want you to end up in a hospital.”

“I can’t,” Kosuke said uncomfortably.

“You can. It doesn’t take that much time, it doesn’t cost much money, and it’s not worth ignoring your health.” Katsuma was very emphatic and Kosuke remembered with a jolt that his grandmother had gotten pneumonia once and almost died because she hadn’t wanted to inconvenience anyone to the point that she hadn’t sought help. “Please.”

Kosuke should just tell them everything. Except that might make them worry more. Hanahaki could be as fatal as a bad cold or influenza if left untreated too long.

“I’m doing what I can,” he said finally. “I know what it is and I’m keeping track of it.”

Katsuma frowned. At his side, Minako chewed her lip, worry radiating from her.

Kosuke sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Just… a little more time? Please? I promise I’m not going to end up in a hospital tomorrow.”

Katsuma shook his head. “That’s not good enough, Kosuke.”

Crap. Kosuke felt genuinely guilty now. Even more when he glanced at Minako’s stony expression. They weren’t going to let this go today. “…It’s hanahaki,” he finally muttered. “Not a cold.”

Both his friends stared. “Wait, what?” Minako said. “Seriously?”

Kosuke’s cheeks burned. “Yes, seriously.”

“But for months? And you’re not coughing up blood by this point?” She froze. “You’re not coughing up blood are you?”

“No!” If he reached that point Kosuke would have to get the surgery. He wasn’t going to let himself die from this, but he was going to try to gain the courage to talk to Emiko right until he had no other choice.

“How?”

“It’s…” Most people would be coughing blood by this point or at least have coughing fits bad enough to land them in a hospital. He was just at the point where it was hard to hide that he was coughing frequently. All the tea and honey in the world couldn’t soothe the constant throat irritation at this point. “Hanahaki progresses differently for everyone. Mine’s just… slow.”

“Oh shit, it’s Niwa isn’t it?” Katsuma groaned. “Why didn’t that even occur to me?”

“…Maybe because hanahaki isn’t that common?” Only about twenty-some percent of the population was susceptible. Or perhaps only twenty percent ever ran into the specific requirements to get it; there wasn’t enough research done on the topic yet but there were strides being made to look into the possibility of genetic correlations for susceptibility but that was still in the early stages.

“Shut up, Kosuke, you’ve been mooning over her for ages, it should have been obvious. Damn.”

“I didn’t notice either,” Minako pointed out. “So… how serious is it then? If you’ve spent over six months…”

“Um.” Kosuke fidgeted with his mask.

“You didn’t ask a doctor about this either did you,” she said with a sigh.

“I did my own research,” he defended. “I haven’t reached any of the chronic markers yet. I’m still in the middle stages.”

“That being?”

“Still mostly parts coughed up, the rare full flower stem. …progressively more frequent cough and throat irritation…”

Minako sighed. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

Kosuke blushed. “I’ve. Um.” He sunk in his seat as both his friends fixed full attention on him. “I keep trying to confess and ending up awkwardly standing in the background.”

Katsuma looked somewhere between resigned and amused. Minako didn’t even bother to hide the twitch of a smile on her lips. “Well at least you’ve been trying.”

“I don’t want to be coughing flowers forever,” Kosuke said, a little annoyed that they both apparently thought he wouldn’t have even tried to confess. Then again, they’d been watching him watch Emiko leave a café once a week for almost a year. So. Yeah. Kosuke buried his face in his hands, coughing slightly. “Please don’t try to intervene.”

“Well maybe it’ll go better with help,” Minako said.

“The problem isn’t an opportunity, the problem is me.”

“So we back you up,” Katsuma said. “Try to help you both end up together alone or literally run into each other or something.”

“Because knocking her to the ground would be a great first impression,” Kosuke mumbled. “She doesn’t even realize I exist.”

“So you have to get her to realize,” Katsuma said realistically. “Try to catch her eye and smile. Wave. Offer to walk her to class.”

“Don’t walk her to class without asking, that’d just be creepy,” Minako said.

“I know!” Kosuke was already starting to regret telling them. “…we ride the same train.”

“Really?” Minako said. “Hmm… Find a way to stand closer? So maybe she picks up on you subconsciously first before you take a step to get her to actually notice you?”

Kosuke thought that if she was going to notice him subconsciously, it would have happened by now. Between having that once class together and then passing by on the same campus and campus adjacent businesses, and now the same train. But sure. Stand within sight range on the regular on the train. Never mind that Kosuke wasn’t sure if he could name three people he regularly rode the train with besides Emiko.

“The problem,” Katsuma said, “is that you chose a girl used to getting looked at by random men. And talked to. And given gifts by. And—”

“I know!” Did they think he hadn’t thought about all of this at one point or another?! He’d had months! “I know I don’t stand out enough!”

“So,” Minako said after a moment, “what are you hoping to happen? Once you confess?”

“That she turns me down lightly without somehow knowing my whole family history?” Kosuke said.

“Not that she might like you back?” Katsuma asked.

Kosuke rolled his eyes. “It’s Niwa Emiko. Who doesn’t know I exist even though we sat three seats away in the same class a year ago. I can be realistic in my expectations. Besides.” Kosuke tugged at the mask self-consciously. “I don’t expect anyone to like me just because I like them. That’s not how any of that works. Ideally I’d get to talk to her and ask her about some things I’m curious about but. I’m someone whose idea of fun is researching obscure topics and whose idea of a romantic gesture is a flower and a ribbon. That’s… not really the sort of person she seems to be interested in.”

“I dunno, she seems to be interested in a guy who’ll give her a son and is into girls who’re extremely forward,” Minako said bluntly. “You’re one of those things. Now if she asked you if you’d father her child…”

Kosuke went scarlet and sputtered.

Katsuma and Minako laughed at him.

“Why are we friends again?” Kosuke asked into his hands.

“Because we’re all nerds and we find your shut-in nature endearing,” Katsuma said slinging an arm around Kosuke’s shoulders. “But seriously, go see a doctor soon. I know you’re not too bad yet and your research skills are top notch, but you’re also not a medical professional by any stretch of the imagination.”

“…fine.”

“He conceded!” Minako cheered. “Good enough! Now you have one more hour with your books before we go for a walk. Spending this much time indoors is bad for you.”

“You both spend hours indoors too!”

“And we’re all going on that walk because we also need it,” Minako said. “Work fast.”

Kosuke swore at them both and dove for his notes. He only slightly dreaded the kind of plans and awkward conversations that were sure to follow telling them the truth.

o*O*o

He did, honestly, mean to go to a doctor. But life got complicated again with more school projects and taking odd shifts as a convenience store clerk for money and trying to follow Minako and Katsuma’s newest schemes to get him to talk to Emiko.

None of which worked, to no one’s surprise. Kosuke had walked into a wall, tripped over his own feet, and stood paralyzed off to the side as Emiko walked by more times than he can count. He’d visited Emiko’s café once instead of his preferred one across the street.  He’d walked away dozens of other times because he truly hated how stressed it all was making him and wondered how he could simultaneously start to dread seeing someone and still want to make sure Emiko was doing well from afar.

“This isn’t working,” Kosuke sighed around Christmastime, as the number of couples tripled and suddenly everyone was being overly romantic.

Katsuma, who had recently just started dating a girl from his literature class (who had apparently been the pen pal), patted his shoulder sympathetically. Although a lot less sympathetically than a few months ago. “You know it really is easier if you’re going into it expecting to be rejected.” He’d know at this point with how his crushes had come and gone.

“I don’t know why this is so hard,” Kosuke said. Or why he couldn’t just be brave and march up and say something. He really didn’t expect anything from Emiko.

“It’s probably you overthinking,” Katsuma said, tapping Kosuke between his eyebrows. He gave a smirk. “I still think you should get drunk and then go confess. That’s probably the only way that you’re going to overcome that knee-jerk reaction of yours.”

“I’d die of embarrassment later.” Also, drunk Kosuke wasn’t actually any more forward than he was when he was sober. He just got more impulsive and tended to info-dump on anyone near him about whatever his latest interest was. He was, in Minako’s opinion, ‘one of the least fun drunks ever’.

“Yeah, but it’d be done,” Katsuma said. “Think about it. You only have so much time, you know?”

“Hmm.”

The hanahaki had plateau’d for the moment. He had a persistent cough that brought up bits of flowers all the time now, and rarer bad fits that left stems in his hands and a bitter taste that no amount of toothpaste could scrub away. He only used one drop from the vial a day but the benefit from it was lasting less and less each day. Soon he might have to use it every sixteen hours instead of every twenty four.

“Are you going home for New Year’s?” Katsuma asked, kindly changing the topic.

It wasn’t a much more enjoyable one to think of really. Kosuke pursed his lips. “I suppose I should.” Even his parents were home at New Year’s. Neither of them had talked in months.

“Yeah?” Katsuma said, surprised.

Kosuke shrugged. “I should try, right? To talk to them once a year at least?”

There was sadness in how Katsuma looked at him. He’d been invited to both his friend’s homes before and yet… Sometimes Kosuke wondered what it would be like to have a family. A real one that marked milestones and celebrated birthdays and showed support. He hoped that if he ever ended up a parent he’d do better than his had.

“You don’t have to go,” Katsuma pointed out.

“Mm.” Didn’t he though? They were supporting most of his university expenses. Why, though, did people have children if they had no interest in knowing who they were or spending time with them? Just to have someone to pass a name along to? Because they felt they were supposed to? (Why did Emiko want a child so badly…?) Kosuke gave himself a mental shake. There was no use in dwelling on any of it. It didn’t change what was. Though, some tiny part of him thought, it would be kind of funny to marry into another family. Then he wouldn’t even have a name to pass down from his parents, could be the one to walk away from them rather than the other way around.

o*O*o

New Year’s was quiet. Kosuke thought that perhaps this time they’d find something to say to each other. That he’d talk about his research and school with or without his parents’ interaction like he did as a child. Instead there were mechanical, stilted semblances of polite small-talk and long, uninterrupted silences that made Kosuke want to run to his childhood bedroom and bury himself in the books that had been his solace. Instead he endured, looking at the art on the walls of his family home and remembered a time that his parents did talk and they’d gone to museums and they’d instilled that little spark of interest in art that had grown. It must have died in them at some point, leaving Kosuke with a flame he had initially nurtured thinking it could be shared.

The whole experience was like taking a bite of something and finding it tasted like ash.

Neither his mother nor his father said anything about his cough.

Not for the first time, he accepted that his friends were better family than his actual family. At the first trip to the temple, he prayed for their happiness, not his own. He hoped he could be better in showing that he cared. If he modeled what he’d wanted to see from his actual family toward them… maybe. Maybe.

It was a cold, quiet New Year, but Kosuke knew warmth.

o*O*o

The first time he coughed and felt his breath go wet he had a sinking feeling in his gut. Ah, he thought as he saw the first flecks of blood speckle his handkerchief. Ah.

It was Valentine’s Day and there were dozens of men hoping Emiko would give them confession chocolate, or at the very least, obligation chocolate. There was more than one man who offered her chocolate, gender roles be damned.

Watching it all, his chest had grown tight and he’d had a coughing fit, one bad enough that Katsuma had pulled him aside.

And Kosuke could just stare down at the results with a numb feeling in his chest and pain in his throat.

“Kosuke?” Katsuma said, worried. He glanced at the three flower stems littering the secluded hall floor with bits of purple flowers and leaves. He didn’t see the blood. He didn’t know that the taste in Kosuke’s mouth was bittersweet with how the tang of blood mingled with bitter herbal astringency. “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” Kosuke said, tucking his handkerchief in his pocket. He dredged up a sheepish smile. “I just wasn’t expecting how hard watching everyone fall over her would hit this year,” he said. Christmas had been bad enough, but Christmas was more for established lovers. Valentine’s Day was for confessions and new love. He breathed, never too deeply to aggravate his chest and throat. Shallow breaths kept the feeling from catching as much, held back another coughing fit. He’d have to start wearing a mask again. That was fine. Between cold season and the fact that this was the time of year hanahaki showed up most, if it showed up at all, no one would think twice about it. Well, no one but his friends.

Mentally he calculated that he’d have to start using the drops twice a day. Mentally, he knew he had to at least consult a doctor and make plans. Mentally, he knew he’d give himself until White’s Day to actually make plans. Time was running down. He’d just entered late stage. Even that extra month was a stupid thing to draw out.

Katsuma touched his wrist in concern. “Want to walk around? I know we planned a whole confession out but…”

“Please,” Kosuke said.

Katsuma didn’t even joke as they walked away. Maybe Kosuke wasn’t really hiding anything from him after all.

o*O*o

He must still not have looked like himself a few days later because Katsuma pulled him aside. “Hey, remember that artist you were obsessed with last semester?”

“Takamura, who I did a research paper on?” Kosuke said.

“Yeah, that guy.” Katsuma smiled though it looked a little forced. “I was at the public library downtown and it turns out they have some of his art there too. I thought you might be interested since, y’know.”

Oh, Kosuke must really look back because Katsuma is encouraging him to set foot in a place surrounded by books and art he hadn’t got his hands on yet. Kosuke gave him a tiny smile, feeling both guilty and grateful. “That’s cool. Do you know anything about how they got it?”

“Uh.” Katsuma shrugged. “I think it was donated? Probably? I just saw a case with the name, and you’d been talking about him a lot, so…”

Kosuke smiled a bit wider. “Thanks for telling me. Although… what were you doing in the public library?” Kastsuma only used the school one when he had to.

“It was a stop on my date,” Katsuma mumbled, going pink-faced. “Um, Hana likes books and uh, I might be growing to like them more.” He scowled when Kosuke just kept smiling wider. “Fiction. I am not interested in any of your dense history and biographies. Just. Maybe literature isn’t so bad.”

“Thinking of changing majors?”

“Hell no. One of us has to get a degree that will actually get us a job. Business is useful.”

“Well you always have your family business if nothing else.”

“Exactly. And I need to have something steady if Hana becomes an author like she wants to be. That’s not a guaranteed paycheck every month.”

Kosuke blinked. “It’s that serious?”

Katsuma opened his mouth, closed it, face getting redder by the second. “I… maybe. I think I want it to be? I know it’s still early but…”

Kosuke pushed his shock aside. “No. No, you’ve been writing for months. You probably know each other pretty well.”

“Yeah.” Katsuma smiled shyly. “Yeah, I think we do.”

It shouldn’t be a surprise for one of his friends to have a serious relationship but it was. That was the way the world worked, right? People met and fell in love and got married. They planned a future together.

And there was Emiko looking straight to the future of a child without even having a boyfriend in the picture yet.

Kosuke felt a bit like he was falling behind, or maybe not taking things seriously enough. If she asked him the question she asked everyone else… He blushed.

Katsuma elbowed him with a knowing look. Kosuke rolled his eyes and elbowed back. He was fine. They were fine. It would all turn out fine. Somehow. He coughed lightly into his fist and pointedly didn’t notice the worried glance Katsuma sent him. Just fine.

o*O*o

Kosuke had set foot in the public library several times—it was a library, of course he had—but generally he’d gravitated toward the vast research-oriented collections of the university library to the local library’s less specialized collections. Still, it was nostalgic to walk through shelves and see children sitting at tables with picture books or mouthing words as they learned their kana and kanji.  Libraries were homey to him in a way that his actual home wasn’t.

The collection Katsuma mentioned was at the back of the nonfiction section near local history books, just a cabinet attached to the wall with thick, shatterproof glass to protect its contents and a little plaque next to it. Kosuke was surprised Katsuma even saw it considering it was so tucked away.

“Glasswork by Takamura Hiseki, generously donated by the Amari family,” Kosuke read. “Items were gifted to the Amari family and Amari Jun in particular by Takamura, evidence of their close friendship.” ‘Close friendship’ was one way of putting it, he thought wryly. All the glasswork was smaller items, all beautiful, but two pieces made his breath catch in his aching chest. One was a bluebell, a perfect glass representation of the same flower that had killed Takamura as he stifled his love. The other… The other was almost a perfect double to the vial in Kosuke’s pocket. It was slightly different, just a bit less polished and the edges cut a bit less cleanly like it had been a prototype to the one he’d found in the hidden compartment, but it could only be its match.

What on earth had gone through Takamura’s mind when he gave Amari those items? What had Amari thought, later, when Takamura died and his hanahaki was exposed?

“There’s supposed to be a match to that,” a young voice said by Kosuke’s shoulder.

Kosuke jumped. A young teenage boy with over-large glasses looked at the same vial Kosuke had been looking at.

“They never found it though,” the boy continued, turning his gaze from the case to Kosuke.

Kosuke could practically feel the vial in his pocket burning against his leg in guilt. “T-They?” he asked.

The boy smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile, was probably the fakest smile Kosuke had ever seen. “Amari’s family. Takamura Hiseki and Amari Jun had matching vials, but Takamura’s was missing at his burial. It’s a pity,” he said looking back at the case. “It’s always sad when there’s only half of a set.”

Kosuke didn’t know how to answer that. Actually, he wondered how the boy knew any of that at all because it hadn’t been in the books Kosuke read. “They must have been really close,” Kosuke said after a moment, “if Takamura made them matching pieces.”

The boy snorted. “Were they by the end? At that point, was it love, selfishness, or cowardice?”

Kosuke really didn’t know how to respond to that, but thankfully the boy didn’t expect him to. He turned and walked away, leaving Kosuke far more unsettled than a child should be able to do. The words resonated though. Was it love, to pine away for someone and die slowly? Or was it just an unhealthy obsession? Takamura had hidden his illness for years. Was it because he was afraid of losing his friend or because he was afraid of hurting him with the knowledge? His diaries had been vague, circling around logic for so much of it. Maybe Takamura hadn’t even known his own reasoning by the end.

Maybe Kosuke was no better. At any rate, true, healthy love couldn’t be one-sided. And it couldn’t start with emotions hidden either.

He looked at the glasswork for a long time, thoughts whirling, indecisive.

When he left, he called the number of a local clinic. White Day would be the last attempt. If he couldn’t confess then, he’d get a consultation about having hanahaki surgery. It wouldn’t be like Takamura dying, leaving his friend shocked and grieving if Kosuke let things continue. Emiko didn’t know him. She wouldn’t care. But he did have friends who would be hurt, and Kosuke didn’t want to give up living just because he couldn’t stop feeling for a woman who didn’t know he existed.

He felt steadier after making the decision. All those months of running himself ragged over it, the choice was made.

Kosuke gripped the vial in his pocket. A bit longer. He’d endure a bit longer. But then he’d let go because it wasn’t healthy to keep doing what he’d been doing.

o*O*o

The ribbon was a tiny weight and pressure in Kosuke’s pocket. In fact, compared to the vial in the other one it should have been unnoticeable. Instead it was all Kosuke could focus on, like it was a highly volatile material instead of smooth silk.

As luck would have it, he’d had an exam on White Day and hadn’t been able to approach Emiko before it because her class (from what he heard; he hadn’t made a point to know where she was at all times, thank you that would be creepy) had happened to be on the exact opposite side of campus. Kosuke was dreading the exam results because it had definitely not been his best showing.

It took a little doing to figure out where Emiko was, and once he found her it was blatantly obvious. There were two different people currently giving her gifts and confessions and getting a few questions before being shot down. Usually Emiko seemed to enjoy the attention, but today she looked like she’d rather be at home than listening to another man try to win her heart. It kind of made Kosuke want to back out because he would hate to stress her more, but this was his self-imposed deadline. He had to do this. When the two men finally backed off, Kosuke took a step forward. Then another, and another until he was only a couple meters away.

And she turned and walked a different direction without noticing him at all.

“Emi—ko…” His voice trailed off, not loud enough for her to have heard.

Right. His hands clenched, sweaty and shaking. Right. Maybe he just wasn’t meant to talk to her.

Kosuke ran a hand through his hair. “Right.” There were flowers crowding his throat and he took a few quick steps to round the nearest building and cough them up with some amount of privacy. Three stems and the bittersweet blood and herb flavor on his tongue. He wiped his mouth. It was so frustrating. Why couldn’t he just do something as simple as walk up to a girl and talk?! The heel of his palms pressed against his eyes for a moment. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter now. You’re going to be letting it all go in a few days anyway.”

It wasn’t fine.

Still, he dragged himself out of the shadows and back toward his last class, and from there to the train station. He couldn’t remember anything that happened in that class at all. In fact he barely remembered the walk to the station until he heard a familiar voice.

Emiko and some of her admirers, one of them one of the men from earlier. He started to look away but—“Hey! Stop pushing!!” Emiko said above the sound of an oncoming train. They were so close to the edge and—!

Kosuke didn’t even think about it, just shoved through bodies and dove for her as Emiko lost her footing. His hand caught her elbow and yanked her back against his chest as brakes shrieked as the train pulled into the station. A pillar smacked against his back and Emiko’s weight crushed the air from his chest. He struggled not to cough, back aching.

“Owww…” He may have hit his head too. In his arms Emiko jolted, pulling away. “Hey, it’s—”

“I’m so sorry!” she said, and of all the ways to finally meet, Kosuke thought wryly, this was not how he pictured it.

“I’m just glad I caught you,” he murmured. She could have been a smear along the track, he thought with a lurch in his gut. Thank goodness she was fiiii— “Your ankle! You got hurt!” Oh no, he made her bleed. He hadn’t even managed a rescue properly.

“It’s fine,” she said, one hand fluttering over the injury. “I’ll just tie it up, I’m sure I have a handkerchief.”

“I have one,” he offered immediately, digging into his pocket. “Use this!” He thrust it forward and Emiko’s eyes caught on it.

“Ah!” Her hand caught his. “The ribbon!”

“Oh no.” Kosuke felt his face burst into flame as he realized he’d not only pulled out the White Day gift with his handkerchief, but somehow Emiko recognized it. “Oh no no no.”

“It’s you!” Emiko said with something like joy in her voice. “You’re the one who left the ribbon last year! I wondered.”

Kosuke relinquished both items into her hands so he could bury his face in his own. “Ahhhh, that was not how I was supposed to do that…”

“So it was for me again?” Emiko asked.

When he risked a glance up, she was looking at the ribbon with a soft smile. “Yeah it, um, it is.”

“Why didn’t you give it to me earlier?”

How was he supposed to say that he’d been too nervous to walk up to her for over a year? That it was a miracle he’d given her the ribbon last time in the first place? “I was… waiting for the right time,” he mumbled.

She didn’t seem put out by that, if anything she smiled a bit more. “Well I guess now was the right time,” she teased. She tied Kosuke’s handkerchief around her ankle and Kosuke helped her stand up, letting her tug him over to a bench. The men that started all of this were somehow long gone of course. Emiko’s touch lingered on his fingertips and Kosuke found his hand getting sweaty again.

If Kosuke thought he loved her from afar, actually having a conversation was killing him. A bit literally actually; his chest was feeling very tight. He opened his mouth to confess—because that was kind of the whole point but what came out instead was, “I wanted to ask… why do you want to have a son?”

Emiko gave him a shocked look, like no one had ever asked her that, though he couldn’t believe no one had bothered. It was kind of an integral piece of understanding her.

“Since I was little it’s always been my dream to have a son,” Emiko said, warm and introspective. “I wanted to be the mother of the legendary phantom thief!”

Kosuke didn’t know what she meant by that exactly, or why it held significance to her, but he could tell that she truly felt strongly about it. That she was baring a piece of herself to him in a show of trust to a perfect stranger and that meant so much that his chest ached. He bit his lip.

Emiko looked up at him with a warm smile on her face. “So, are you someone who’d be willing to help me with that dream?”

Kosuke choked and ended up coughing after all, bad enough that Emiko touched his shoulder with concern. He wiped his mouth, damp petals hidden in his hand and just looked at her for a beat because he was actually here, talking to her. She was listening and waiting for him to speak. “I. One day, if you’d care to have me,” he choked out hoarsely. “If you like me, but I know you don’t know me, but I’d like it if you did know me, I mean I’d like to know you but only if you’d like to that is to say—!”

Emiko burst into giggles. “Is that a yes?” she asked, grinning.

Kosuke was going to die of embarrassment before he died from suffocation. “Yes,” he squeaked. “I’d like to have a family with you.”

And there was something in how he said that that she liked because she gave him the most genuine smile he’d seen her give anyone, and he’d been watching her from afar for a year. (Oh no, was he going to have to admit he’d been watching her for a year???) “I think I’d like to get to know you then,” Emiko said. “Although I think we should start with a name…?”

Oh no, he hadn’t even given his name. Kosuke was a wreck. “It’s Kosuke.”

And for the next few minutes they exchanged questions and Emiko learned he was the only son with distant parents, that he didn’t have much family at all, but that he had an unmarried uncle on his father’s side. He learned that she only had her father, but that they were very close and her mother died when she was young. She learned that he liked books and art history, he learned that her family had an art collection and she was learning conservation to take care of it properly. He learned that it was so much better to see her expressions up close and that he had never felt a rush quite the same as when she directed all of her attention his way.

Kosuke didn’t talk to people easily but somehow she coaxed words out of him and had him asking questions back, soaking in knowledge about her the same way he soaked in information about his research. If it wasn’t for the persistent tickle in his throat and the bitter taste in his mouth, he’d have forgotten what he needed to do.

Even with everything he almost let it slide again when Emiko glanced up and noticed the time.

“Oh! I have to get home!”

Another train would be arriving any minute too. “Um, Emiko-san.”

“You can just call me Emiko,” she said, not for the first time.

He really wasn’t ready to call her anything to her face without an honorific. “Emiko-san, I need to say. That is. I’d like to get to know you.” Close but not quite. “I like listening to you.” Still not there. “I l-like. I mean, you, I like—”

“You like me,” Emiko said, taking pity on him.

“Yes.” Thank goodness one of them could be direct. “I like…I like you.”

“I kind of figured,” she said, smiling fondly in a way that was way more intimate than one conversation merited.

“Do you…?”

Emiko hummed and tilted her head. “I don’t know yet.” Her smile grew wider. “But,” she said dragging out the word, “I’d be interested in finding out. I guess that just means you’ll have to take me out on a date, hmm?”

Kosuke breathed and felt like he could take a fuller breath all of a sudden. “Yes. Yeah, sure, I’ll take you on as many dates as you’ll let me.” He’d pull out full stop romance if she wanted. Flowers and candle-lit dinners and watching sunsets and sharing umbrellas in the rain.

Emiko laughed happily. He wanted to hear that sound forever. “You know,” she said after a moment, “I’ve seen you around before, but you always looked busy.”

She’d noticed him? Kosuke blinked. “I… really like reading.”

“You’ll have to show me some of your favorite books then. I’ll show you some of mine.”

Kosuke was definitely in love. There was no turning back now. Head over heels. It was only going to get deeper because now he knew what it felt like to have her smile at him and mean it. To hear her talk about things she liked and how her hand felt in his own. “Anytime.”

o*O*o

“So, what, you’re dating now?” Minako asked, stirring sugar into her coffee at the usual café.

“I think?” The word ‘dating’ hadn’t been used, but they’d met once for lunch and made plans to do so again. Kosuke’s heart beat fast thinking about it. But since White Day, he’d been breathing easier bit by bit, no more drops from the vial needed. It almost didn’t feel real.

“Well, congrats,” Katsuma said with a grin. “I told you that you could do it.”

“You said I could manage to confess, not that I could get a date with her,” Kosuke pointed out.

“Details,” Katsuma scoffed. “What’s she like?”

Kosuke tried to capture Emiko in words in his mind and kept coming up short. “Bright.” Her smile shone and she was very smart. She was also a bit strange, having some weird interests and he still was trying to parse out the whole thing with a phantom thief, but that was fine. Kosuke looked forward to getting to know her well enough to understand. And they’d talked about art and books and… She made him actually want to be sappily romantic.

“I think we’ve lost him,” Minako teased. “Just one word, lover-boy?”

“She’s…” Kosuke moved his hands helplessly to mean something bigger than he could describe. “I could talk to her for hours. Or listen to her talk.”

“Someone that actually makes you want to talk is good,” Minako said. “I’m glad.”

“If you’re ever up for a double date,” Katsuma said with a wink, “Hana and I are game.”

“I think I’ll stick to single dates until I’m sure we’re actually dating,” Kosuke said.

“And speaking of your girlfriend,” Minako said, nodding at across the street.

Kosuke turned so fast he almost fell out of his seat to see Emiko exit the other café like usual. Only unlike all the other times, her eyes met his across the space and she gave a smile and a wave. Kosuke’s face went red as he waved meekly back.

“You know,” Katsuma mused aloud as Emiko started to cross the street in their direction, “she always asks the same question when someone confesses, so does that mean our shy little Kosuke said yes?”

Kosuke’s face was almost as red as Emiko’s hair and Minako was laughing at him.

“Kosuke!” Emiko said cheerfully with another enthusiastic wave. It hit him right in the heart. He had to have the most ridiculous, sappy expression on his face right now. “I thought I’d seen you here before! Are these your friends?”

“Ah, yeah, this is Katsuma and Minako. Guys, this is Emiko.”

“Nice to meet you,” Katsuma said.

“Yeah, it’s about time,” Minako said with a grin, “since this dummy’s been pining for ages.”

“Guys…”

Emiko laughed. “You know I’ve never been to this café. Is anything good here?”

Kosuke and his friends exchanged a look. “It’s cheap,” they said at the same time. “And they have really strong coffee,” Kosuke added. “It’s good for when you’ve been pulling late nights.”

His friends looked exasperated. “He pulls them too often,” Minako complained. “The books aren’t going anywhere, Ko-kun.”

“So many books, so little time,” Emiko teased, stealing a chair to join them.

“It’ll be nice to have another person reminding him that there’s life outside the library,” Katsuma joked, poking Kosuke’s face.

Kosuke swatted his hand away and Emiko watched the exchange like she was seeing something valuable. He didn’t have words for how her interacting with his friends made him feel. It was a good feeling though.

“We’ll have to work on a work-life balance then,” Emiko said. “I’d be a little put out if he chose books over a date with me.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’d be a problem,” Katsuma said.

“I will tell Hana-san about the time you burned your classic literature book,” Kosuke said, calling back to their first year together as friends.

“No you won’t, I have more blackmail on you than you have on me,” Katsuma said confidently.

“I can list your failed relationships in order of magnitude of how bad they went.”

“Remember the first time you got drunk?”

Kosuke snapped his mouth shut. He very much did not remember parts of that night and that meant he really couldn’t refute if Katsuma made embarrassing things up.

Emiko laughed. “Hmm, I’d like to hear about some of these things.”

“Katsuma, I will pour my coffee down your pants so you have to leave here looking like you wet yourself.”

They laughed at him and Kosuke resigned himself to at least some of his embarrassing college stories being told, though most of them involved the extremes he went to on research benders. Still, it was nice. Emiko was slotting into his life, and maybe she’d let him slip into her life as an equal presence.

o*O*o

“Isn’t this one of Takamura Hiseki’s pieces?” Emiko asked months later, sitting in Kosuke’s cramped little apartment like it wasn’t a few steps above a box. She’d never made a big deal of any of it, not Kosuke’s lack of nice things or how he couldn’t make the grand gestures of other people who courted her. He was pretty sure that part of what she liked about him was that he didn’t give lavish gifts or make grandiose promises. That he was down to earth and showed he cared in small gestures like picking up a coffee or surprising her with a piece of candy or a good book on days where she was stressed. She’d been to the apartment before, but it was only recently that Kosuke stopped carrying Takamura’s vial around and put it on a shelf with some smaller, far less valuable art pieces.

It hadn’t occurred to him that she would recognize the artist.

“Uh.” He bit his lip. How to explain that? “It is.”

“It’s nice.” Emiko turned it over in her hands, letting the light reflect of its cut glass edges. The liquid swirled in it as full as it had been when he found it; he never did figure out how it never depleted. “How did you end up with it?”

Kosuke blushed guiltily. Emiko raised an eyebrow. Kosuke scratched at his cheek. “I did a research paper on him and noticed something odd in some of his journals… There was a secret compartment in one of the furniture pieces he donated to the university and… well.”

“Kosuke.” There was an almost gleeful expression on her face. “Did you steal a piece of art from the university?”

Kosuke flushed harder. “Err. In my defense they didn’t know it existed?”

Emiko laughed. A few months ago he would have expected to be scolded for it, but he was starting to realize Emiko didn’t function on the same moral standards as most of society. It should have bothered him, but honestly it was one more thing he liked about her, how she didn’t match the image she’d built herself up as in public. “You,” Emiko said, putting the vial back, “are perfect.”

“Excuse me??”

Emiko just shook her head and grinned. “How do you feel about meeting my dad this weekend?”

“So fast?”

“It’s not fast; we’ve been dating for months. Although I guess you haven’t introduced me to your parents either.”

Kosuke flailed a little, but stilled as Emiko moved to lean against his side. He relaxed against her. “I’d like to meet your father,” he said. Emiko nodded against his shoulder, snuggling closer. “And um, my parents are, um.” He was having trouble finding words with how Emiko kept getting closer, like she was going to end up sitting in his lap. “Um. We don’t talk, so.”

There was a tiny pause in her getting as close as possible before she gave up even trying to be subtle and draped herself against him. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to become part of my family.”

Oh. She was smiling, but her eyes were serious. Oh. His arms went around her. “Yeah. I’d. I’d like that.”

When she kissed him, he lost all ability to think about anything other than the moment, all his anxieties and insecurities falling away because she was here and she’d chosen him. By some miracle, she liked him back, and it was maybe about as much as he liked her. He felt like he belonged the way he did surrounded by books. Kosuke, finally, felt happy.

o*O*o

At some point, a second, almost identical crystal vial ends up sitting innocently on Kosuke’s shelf. Kosuke, soon to be Niwa Kosuke, never tells anyone how it got there.

*****

Kosuke totally doesn’t tell her about the hanahaki until right before they get married and Emiko is all ‘why didn’t you say something???' Also, I really wanted Kosuke to already have something to do with art because I prefer that to picturing him uprooting his entire life to try and fit with what the Niwas need. So my HC for him is he already was a guy who liked spending way too much time researching things and it just was serendipity that it turned out to be useful for the Niwas.

[corescorner]

Charmberry Cove Chapter Two

Chapter Title: Brothers

Wordcount: 3,133

AO3

Ch1

Taglist: @unsocialchapeau @aularei @softest-emo

“Remus!” Roman yells while storming into his twins room, who is lounging in the middle of his floor drawing something and also wearing Roman's hoodie. That is exactly why he's here. “Stop stealing my clothes!” He flails his arms towards his brother in emphasis.

 “Hmm, nope” Remus says popping the 'p' and not looking up from his drawing. Roman huffs, gesturing even more frantically at the other.

 “Are you wearing my pants?”

 “Maybe.”

 “You are insufferable. What else do you have of mine?”

 “Lots of stuff.”

 Roman stares Remus down, hands on his hips waiting for him to crack. Which he doesn't because he never does it's like he's impervious to being intimidated.

 “Stop. Stealing. My. Clothes” Roman enunciates after the glaring doesn't work, and that finally gets Remus to stop ignoring Roman's protests.

 He stops drawing his head slumps towards the floor and groans. “Uuuuuuuuugh, but Rooooooo.”

 “No. No 'but Ro' me mister! We've been through this” he stomps his foot as if to drive his point home.

 Remus slowly raises his head, looking up at Roman with a pout; Roman admits that he cracks a bit at the look.

 No, he needs to stay strong in his decision darn it!

 “Too bad” Remus announces.

 Roman steps back half a step making an incredulous noise, he can't believe he almost just felt sorry for his trash goblin brother.

 “Rude, you are a rude heathen is what you are” he says crossing his arms.

 “Well I don't have many clothes of my own yet that are comfortable enough for me to wear right now, so deal with it Broman.”

 Roman falters in his resolve.

 “Fine, but start asking first” he says as he saunters to his brothers side he sits next to him on the floor.

 “We should go shopping” he decides.

 Remus continues his drawing and hums “you should tell that to Mom. Look at my drawing!” he thrusts the sketchbook at Roman, who of course takes it; they are each other’s best critics after all.

 He stares at the pencil sketch, blinking at the image. It's good? It's weird. But that is the norm for Remus.

“What am I looking at here?” He asks pointing at a jar? Of some sort on the page. “Are these eyeballs?'

“Yep! It's based on my dream last night” Remus informs, Roman nods and points to something else that might be a tree.

“What exactly is this?” He asks and Remus lights up.

“That's a hand tree, it's very grabby” he says while making slow grabby hands, smile wide showing off his neon braces in full display.

Roman recalls when they got their braces maybe under a year ago, a couple months before their twelfth birthday; the doctor said that they'll probably have to have them for a couple years.

When asked what colours they wanted Roman chose to go full rainbow for his tooth accessories, and that is how he's choosing to think of them as.

Remus yelled out in the doctor’s office that he needed his to be glow in the dark neon green and they actually had that as an option much to Remus' delight.

They annoyed Roman for the longest time, still do honestly.

Remus took a weird liking to them immediately though, he said that the feeling was 'funny' and he liked the 'aesthetic' of them, whatever that meant.

Roman just thought that they hurt and took up too much space in his mouth.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts and still staring at his brothers dream picture.

“This is one for The Wall then. Do you need to add any colour to this one?” he asks.

Remus snatches the sketch book back “yea, red!” he replies.

Roman nods, a lot of his dream pictures tend to only have red in them.

As Remus fills in the parts that need red, Roman stares at The Dream Wall. That's what they call the wall that Remus' bed is against, the wall itself is filled with pages upon pages of sketches, on all types of papers in differing colour schemes, from full coloured ones to black and white sketches. Most however only have red accents to them.

“We should go shopping today, I'll ask Patton and Looogan if they want to come with us” he smirks at his brothers now watching eyes.

“Logan too? He doesn't like shopping.”

“Mm, but he's our friend and he'd probably enjoy it nonetheless” he says as he takes out his keyboard flip phone. His first phone, Mom said that they should be able to get in touch with her and each other just in case, so they both got one two months ago for their birthday. Patton and Logan already had phones, Patton got his first one a while ago; Thomas always likes to know where his baby brother is. And Logan is very responsible so his parents didn't see why not.

“How much allowance money do you have?” Roman asks.

Remus slowly looks to him.

Roman sighs.

“You have been saving up like we said we would right?”

“Yes?” Remus says sitting up “but probably definitely not as much as you have.”

“How much do you have?”

“Maybe fifty bucks.”

Roman sighs again. “We've been saving for months, what have you been spending it on? Never mind I don't wanna know” he puts his hand over Remus' open mouth.

“We'll just go to the thrift store then” Roman decides as Remus licks his hand to make it move from his face. “Oh ew, you so did not have to slobber on me” Roman whines, Remus laughs but otherwise ignores Roman's pout.

“You say that like we weren't going to go to the thrift store to begin with.”

“Shush you! I need to text our friends!”

Remus sticks his tongue out at him, going back to adding red to his drawing.

Opening his text option he sends Patton and Logan their own texts.

 Pattycake:

-Hey Puffball, me and Rem want to go thrift shopping today, care to join us?

 Logos:

-Hey Nerd! We wanna shop wanna come along?

 Logan is the first to reply to Roman's text, he usually always is the fastest to answer; he doesn't like having backed up messages.

 Logos:

-I am sorry Roman I cannot make it today, I am otherwise engaged in an activity with my parents. Perhaps another day?

 “Pff, the little nerd is out” Roman informs Remus, he sees him shrug from the corner of his eye as Patton’s reply comes in.

  Pattycake:

-aww! that sounds like so much fun! but i cant im helping a friend move. maybe tomorrow if you wanna wait for me?

-Helping a friend move?

 -yea! ill tell you guys about it tomorrow okay? i havta go.

-Alright, have fun with that.

 “That's weird, Patton is helping his friend move?” The concept of Patton helping a friend move isn't what confuses Roman, he can see it perfectly well, Patton helps anyone he can. It's just that... Who is there to move?

“Who's moving?”

“I have no idea, but he said that he's down to do this shopping thing tomorrow, so I'll just text our nerd back and inform him of that.”

 Logos:

-You're free tomorrow right, wanna come then?

-Affirmative, that sounds adequate. I shall see you tomorrow

 For someone who is 'otherwise engaged in an activity' he sure answered that quickly.

And now that that's settled, they're going shopping tomorrow.

If they can get a ride to the next town over that is.

“I'm gonna go ask Mom if she can drive us tomorrow” Roman says, getting up and dusting himself off.

Remus ignores him being fully concentrated on the gore splattering his page his tongue caught between his teeth as he tries to get a blood puddle the right tones of red.

He leaves his brothers room to look for their mother, which was rather easy considering she's sitting at the kitchen table.

He stands in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at her work, she shuffles some papers around.

“What do you need sweetheart?” She asks without taking her eyes off of the page she's scowling at,  then sighs and puts it down. “I need a break, want some lunch? Do you know if your brother is hungry?”

He shrugs, “probably, but I came down to ask if you can drive us to the town over for some shopping tomorrow?”

She sighs as she gets some sandwiches ready, “I'm sorry My Little Prince, that's almost an hour long drive and I have to work all day tomorrow, I need to get this out to my editor by Monday.”

Roman nods “it's alright Mama, I'll figure something out.”

“Oh hey” she perks up, “I know for a fact that Thomas is doing absolutely nothing tomorrow, why don't you ask him?”

Roman's cheeks pink a bit. “Great idea Mother, I shall text Patton to ask him for us.”

She hugs him as she hands him two sandwiches, a bag of chips and two water bottles.

Roman bounds up the stairs with the food, and freezes in Remus' doorway.

“What are you doing?” He asks his twin who just so happens to be halfway out of his bedroom window, he’s backwards and upside down, his legs holding on to the windowsill.

Roman sets the food on the bed and rushes to hold Remus' ankles.

“Hanging out of the window!” Remus yells.

“Yes, I can see that but why?”

“Why not?” Remus rebuttals.

“It's dangerous to start with. You can seriously hurt yourself is why not!” He scoffs honestly, Remus really needs to stop giving Roman heart attacks, he might actually kill him with it one day from what he puts Roman through.

“That's why I have you silly!” Remus flails his arms up towards Roman as if that was the most obvious thing.

“What?” Roman asks.

“Well, you'll always be here to help me, you're The Prince, you'll always save me” he states matter of factually.

Roman's chest squeezes at his brothers pure faith in his capabilities and assurance that they'll always be there for each other.

“Okay, well take this as me saving you right now then and get inside here and away from the window, we are on the second floor you absolute heathen.”

Remus laughs out as he begins to pull himself up, but just falls back down and his laughter doubles after Roman hears a thump.

“Hey Ro? I can't get up.”

Roman stares at his brother in disbelief before his own laughter escapes him in peals.

~0~

The next day has come and Remus is excited about the days plan. Usually he doesn't care for shopping, too much waiting around and too many rules to follow. But this is with his friends and that's a whole different situation.

And fucking around in thrift stores is fun.

Jumping out of bed and pulling on Roman's hoodie that he was wearing yesterday back on is as much as he's gonna get dressed considering he slept in yesterday’s pants, so he's good for today.

Banging on Roman's door proves to be amusing for him and annoying for his twin. Roman opens the door, clothes and hair dishevelled an annoyed look across his face.

Remus waggles his eyebrows “you got someone in there Ro?”

“You just woke me up you idiot. It's too early to leave what are you doing?”

“What? No it's not, it's almost ten! Get dressed bitch. Or don't, either way” he shrugs.

“Don't let Mom hear you swear” Roman mumbles sleepily and adds “Thomas said he'd drive us after lunch.”

He pushes his way past Remus to get to the bathroom and closes the door before Remus can utter anything else.

Fine.

Logan is probably awake, he'll just bother him.

Lego:

-Hey BiTcH you comin with today yea?

-Good morning Remus, yes I am indeed going to be 'chilling' with everyone today. I informed Roman of this yesterday, did he not pass on the information?

-Sweet! Just confirming! I'm bored Roman is being boring entertain meeeeeeeeeee

-Roman is one of the least boring people I have ever been in the presence of. Though I guess that could be said for all of you. I don't know how I deal with it.

-Shuuut up you love uuus!

-Quite.

-Are you sufficiently entertained?

-why got somthin somthin to be doin over there?

-Not at this very moment I do not.

-ThEN keep talkn to me nerd, tell me nerd stuff

-Very well. What would you like to know today?

 Remus thinks on this, he and Logan do this often when Remus needs a distraction, and Logan is always glad to rattle off some knowledge, especially if he's highly fascinated by the subject matter. Logan can make anything interesting anyway, it's in the way he enunciates with hand gestures and how he explains things.

Remus can listen to nerd shit for forever if Logan was the one talking. It just calms his thoughts.

 Lego:

-Do you have a subject matter you wish to know about or would you like me to just tell you random facts?

-OH HOW ABOUT old torture methods!

 -Ah, that is actually very fascinating to look at through the ages.

-Would you like me to break it down for you or just fun facts for today?

-FuuuuuUN fACts!

-Very well. Did you know that one method was to take an elephant, getting it to slowly crush all the bones in ones limbs before inevitably crushing the person’s skull? Very babaric.

-Was that a Babar pun?

-I, what? No. It was simply a typo.

-I won't tell Paaaaatton your secrets saafe with me

They text back an forth like this for a while. Logan telling him facts on whatever Remus' mind jumps to in that moment.

Roman walks into the living room where Remus is lounging upside down on the couch with his feet up in the air.

“Is Mom gone?” He asks rubbing a towel through his wet hair.

“Ymmmhm” Remus answers he’s not really paying attention to Roman, he has the stuff Logan is sending him to read.

“You talking to Looooogan?” Roman sing songs while setting his arms on the back of the couch to lean on them, looking at Remus expectantly with his eyebrows raised.

Remus kicks him in the head.

He was literally (metaphorically) asking for it, standing in the exact right position for Remus' foot to connect to Roman's head.

“Hey!” Roman squawks, “I just took a shower I do not need your grody feet in my hair!”

“Well you shouldn't be in kicking distance now should you” he shoots at his twin.

Roman huffs, walking out of Remus' sight into the kitchen and comes back with a muffin. For both of them, well that's nice of him.

A muffin thwacks off of his forehead, making him drop his phone on to his face. His phone and the muffin are now on the floor and Roman is in the background laughing his ass off.

Okay, not nice of him then.

He throws his body to the side and flops off of the couch to grab both items. Double chocolate muffin though, score.

“Thomas will be here in an hour or so” Roman informs him.

He wiggles his eyebrows “you been talkin to Thooomas a lot lately brother dear? How scandalous.” He puts his hand to his mouth in mock shock.

Roman splutters “Ugh. Ugh, Remus. Please. He's basically Moms age. And for your information, it’s Patton that's been informing me so ha!”

“Doesn't mean you don't have a cruuuuuuush” he sings.

“Shut up. Go get dressed.”

“I am dressed.”

“You wore that yesterday!”

“Your point?”

“You. Wore that. Yes. Ter. Day.”

“You can't repeat yourself to prove a point.”

“I can if that's my whole point! Which it is cause I can not believe that I need to say it more than once to prove it!”

Remus rolls his eyes “no one caaaaaaaaares.”

“Logan would” Roman mutters.

“Give me some clothes then.”

“Wha- bu- euhhhuuuhuhh.” Roman whines out articulately.

“I'm kidding!” Remus says brightly and Roman relaxes. “I'm not changing” he says in a more serious tone and Roman deflates and whines again.

 ~

The hour-ish goes by pretty quickly, with Roman putting on where they left off from Full Metal Alchemist and about halfway through the third episode that's playing the doorbell rings.

The twins open the door to Patton’s smiling face.

“Heya guys! You ready to go shopping!” He bounces in place, giving off waves of pure happiness. Well he's extra happy today, and everyone would have noticed even if he didn't have his gift.

“Hell yea!” Remus shouts loudly as Roman locks the door behind them.

Logan is already seated in the back of Thomas' car and Remus gets in before Roman could so he can sit next to him. Patton climbs into shotgun so he can be in front with his brother.

“Hey guys” Thomas greets them as they buckle and settle in the seats.

“Thomas!” Roman crows “how's my favourite theatre teacher?”

Thomas chuckles “I'm not your teacher yet Roman, school hasn't started.”

Roman scoffs “it starts next week, we're practically there.”

Thomas starts the car and drives out of their driveway.

Its funny watching Roman's attempted flirting with Thomas, cause he so doesn't know what he's doing and Thomas obviously doesn't reciprocate so it just goes over the older man’s head every time Roman tries.

There's mischief in Thomas' eyes and Remus isn't the only one who catches it, he shares a look with Logan then glances to his brother to see his reaction, no doubt it'll be hilarious.

“Well Roman” Thomas begins and Roman perks up, “how do you even know that you'll be qualified for theatre?” He asks 'innocently'.

Patton snickers at his brother and lightly slapping his arm. “Tommy” he softly chastises.

Roman makes the loudest most offended noise Remus has ever heard him make; and they live together.

Logan smiles and Remus loudly chortles at his brother’s expense.

“I'm kidding Ro, I'm sure your audition will blow everyone’s socks off” Thomas says to calm the spluttering prince.

“I'm insulted that you even need me to audition, hasn't my whole life been enough of an audition for you?” Roman says flippantly.

“I can't play favourites Roman” Thomas says.

Patton giggles, “pun intended?” He asks.

“Of course” Thomas replies.

Roman perks up “I'm your favourite?” He asks giddily. Remus snorts, Roman elbows him.

“He just said he didn't do favourites Roman. Listen up” Logan interjects.

“Shut your boyfriend up” Roman whispers to him and he elbows Roman harder than he did to Remus.

The rest of the ride goes similarly and they make it to the other town in what seems like no time.