#I’ll probably reopen the inbox after I get my stuff done but it might close quick is what i’m saying

[24-hours]

guess who’s back :]

[shauds-archived]

Can you do dismissed with Jason?

Came this close to doing something with Steph untill you tacked Eddie on there, here it is.

Jason knows the second he finds out that Edie signed up for the Everyman Project that a former kid sidekick won't be accepted. He didn't know he'd feel bad about it. Eddie doesn't know why this guy is so familiar, or why he's being so nice to him, but he's not going to complain.

000

Another familiar face. Some days every face is familiar, every glance cast his way is a shriek of danger, every shadow is staking him. It's common enough that he's used to it already, he what measures he needs to take to manage those days without an incident taking place.

Jason hasn't taken those measures today, because today has by all counts been one of the better ones. Everything clear and quiet and just near enough the surface for him to do what's supposed to be his job. Still the face is familiar. Arm outstretched, yelling for someone to hold the lift. There are three people other than Jason in the lift, none of them look about to stop the doors from closing. Jason shouldn't either, if it's familiar there's a chance it will recognize him too, and that would be... not good, not good at all.

Jason blocks the door with his foot anyways, it gets him a couple of disgruntled looks, but no idiot's going to do anything about it. Ah nepotism.

"Hot damn." He's out of breath when he slumps against the wall and struggles to catch it back. "Thanks. It wouldn't look good if I was late, huh?" He flashes Jason a grin. There's no recognition in his eyes.

Jason's smile is tight and formal, he nods, adjusts the tray of coffee in his hands and fixes his eyes on the numbers rolling by on top of the door.

The doors open, the woman in the pink business suit gets off. Jason pretends the kid isn't watching him, then there's a hand being shoved in front of his face.

"I'm Eddie."

"My hands are a little full right now." Jason nods down at the eight cups of coffee he'd been sent to fetch. Eddie looks down at them too and flushes a bright red.

"Sorry." He chuckles, nervously and their two remaining companions frown at him, the both of them get off only seconds later. "So." Eddie shuffles his feet and buries his arms up to the elbow in the pockets of his bright green hoodie. "You work here?"

"Yeah, I'm..." He definately not an intern, but he doesn't think what he does really fits with the 'personal assistant written on his contract either. "I get coffee."

"So your like a gopher?" Eddie seems a little too excited by that, but Jason nods anyway why did this damn building have so many sub basements? "Me too!" Eddie glances upwards and he rocks back on his feet. "Well, I used to be. I'm here for the Everyman Project now."

"I don't get why anyone would sign up to be poked at by those creeps." Jason says, thinking of the throngs of kids lining up around the building, flooding Talia's inbox with applications. Either she'd done a little too good with the P.R departments restructuring, or people were getting even more stupid. Those doctors are the kind of people Jason would taze for getting too close.

"Who wouldn't want superpowers?" Eddie scrunches his face like Jason's said the most in incomprehensible thing he's ever heard. "I'd give up everything for a chance... I did give up everything for this chance, I mean, come on you've never wanted to fly, or go shoot lasers, or move things around with your mind?"

"Everyone I ever met with powers was miserable." Or dead, and Jason's had that option taken away.

"Its not gonna be like that for me." Eddie says, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "If I get in, I'll be a hero. Just like Blue Devil and... " His grin turns to something almost sad. "And Robin."

"Robin?" Jason starts, lets himself really look at Eddie for the first time since he stood besides Jason. 'He couldn't mean...' "Most people woulda said Batman."

"I never met Batman, but I knew a Robin who was pretty cool."

"Ah." Jason nods and looks back up at the number dial he plucks one of the coffees out of the tray. "Well then here's something for luck." The doors slide open again and Jason steps out. "Be seeing you Eddie."

"Hey thanks!" Eddie calls after him, so excitable and filled with hope it's cruel, and cruel of Jason to allow, even worse to encourage it.

They'll never let a former kid sidekick into the project.

000

It's raining, because of course it is, when Eddie's kicked out. Dismissed for psychological reasons. Nobody tells him what those reasons are, the assessor had barely even looks at him when she stuffs Eddie's file into a drawer and tells him he has five minutes to leave the premises. It takes him all of those five minutes just to get outside, and from there he had no idea where he's supposed to go.

There's no money for a return flight to L.A, even if there was something waiting there for him. He doesn't know what number his parents are using now, and if he did, he probably wouldn't use it. He'd risk trying to find Dan for a place to spend the night, but Dan's been missing for months.

Eddie doesn't bother trying to find shelter from the rain, he knows it's pointless, anywhere he can reach by foot is too far away for it to matter. It grants him solitude, at least he can be grateful for that when he dropped onto a park bench like the animatronic props when they had their cords pulled. Head in his hands his shoulders shake uncontrollably, his chest hurts so bad he thinks it might kill him if it doesn't stop, if his lungs keep refusing to pull in air. Alone in an unfamiliar city and all he has to be grateful for is that he's alone, that he's cold and wet and alone because even the mad scientists don't want him.

Then a shadow passes over him and the rain's suddenly stopped hitting him. "It didn't go well?"

Eddie starts, his head snaps up at the voice. It's the guy from the lift, the one with the coffee. He's standing in the rain while he holds his umbrella over Eddie's head.

"Hey." Eddie frantically tries to scrub the tears from his face with his sleeves. The guy watches, impassive, no more emotion on his face than there'd been when Eddie'd chattered at him in the elevator, his eyes so green against the grey of the clouds and the ghostly pallor of his skin that they almost seem to be giving off an unnatural glow, like a ghost. He's still the only one who's showed Eddie anything like kindness since he's been in Metropolis. "No, I uh, don't meet the psychological requirements."

"That's too bad." The guy inclines his head just a little . "I would have liked to see more of you."

"Thanks." Eddie sniffs and wraps his arms around himself to ward of some of the cold.

"You have some place to go?"

Eddie shakes his head, unable to come up with the words to voice his reply.

"Ah." He nods once and steps away from Eddie, but keeps the umbrella where it is. "Come on, I can book you couple nights in a motel."

"You'll what?" Eddie frowns, sure he's misheard, or outright imagined the whole person, he gets nothing but a blank stare in response. "Why would you..."

He looks pained, for a moment, and for just that moment something about this stranger is familiar, something in Eddie's subconsciouses that tickles at his brain but refuses to let itself be known no matter how hard he tries for a clearer picture, and then it's gone.

"I don't want nightmares of you being murdered on this park bench tonight." He cocks his head at the street. "Gotta be up early."

"You're sure?" Eddie asks, getting up from the bench.

The guy nods again and Eddie senses he's getting impatient, so he doesn't question it again, just gets up and lets himself be led away keeping close so neither of them is without the umbrellas shelter.

"I'll uh, pay you back, uh..." Eddie offers later, turns the key card over in his hands when he realizes that he never got a name. "Mister..."

He's surprised when the man lets out a short bark of laughter and his too-bright, too-dim eyes light up a little. "It's Jason, and don't worry about it. I work for Lex Luthor, probably be needing a hero if he tries to steal my hair." He runs his hand through his damp curls as he says it, mixing the thick lock of white in with the rest before he makes for the door.

"I'll keep an eye out!" Eddie calls after him. "Thanks, Jason!"

The smiles Jason flashes him over his shoulder is bright, and again, there's something way too familiar, but there's no way... "Goodbye Eddie." He reopens the umbrella, steps through the door, and he's gone.

It can't be... Like a ghost. Eddie runs through the door, he's only a couple of seconds behind, but there's no one for him to chase after, not so much as a glimpse. His voice is just barely over a whisper, just loud enough to be heard over the pattering of the rain. "Bye Jason."

[sinkingorswimming]

The Cosplay AU I need a name for

(Previous parts found on my cosplay au tag!)

It’s maybe two weeks after Otakon when Yuuri checks his email. He has stuff from his school about prepping for the incoming school year and a message from his class President about a seniors only gathering at the Party Bridge near campus.

He also sees one, subject: HI! <3 from sender vmnikforov@gwu.edu.

Yuuri immediately slams his laptop closed.

He covers his mouth with his hands and squeaks. His best buddy (who is not human) comes bounding off his bed to his desk with concern. Vicchan, his reddish brown toy poodle (yes, named after guess who) is Yuuri’s favorite thing in the world. 

He gets his phone, opens the mail app. Right there in the inbox, marked unread. HI! <3, sender vmnikiforov@gwu.edu.

Yelping, Yuuri closes his eyes and opens the email like it’s a bomb.

Hi, Yuuri! This is Victor, from Otakon? I saw your email on your entry form---hope you don’t mind! Anyways, I have a project in mind for Katsucon in February, and I thought you might be interested in partnering up with me! I know you usually work with your friend, but this is a special idea I’ve had for forever and I feel like after seeing your work up close, you’re the perfect fit! 

If you’re able, I’d like to get together soon to begin discussion---it’s going to be tricky to source some of the materials, especially the lace! Can we meet for dinner this weekend? Say, Saturday at six, The Source on Pennsylvania---it’ll be my treat!

Thanks, talk to you soon! <3

Victor

Yuuri screams. He’s home alone---his mom is at her book club with her old friend, Minako, his dad is golfing at Lansdowne, and his sister is away for the week with her college friends---so he doesn’t need to come up with a lie about the reason for the screams.

He calls number three on his favorites, though.

“Hey, this is Phichit,” he answers on ring #2.

“Oh my God,” Yuuri cries. “Oh my God, he wants a costume, me, us, a pair---oh my God.”

“...What?” Phichit answers.

“VICTOR EFFING NIKIFOROV WANTS TO DO A PAIR COSPLAY WITH ME,” Yuuri shouts.

“Holy shit,” Phichit replies.

“Right?” Yuuri tries to slow his heart. “What do I say? I don’t...it’s not you, it’s a pairs thing, I don’t---”

“Okay, whoa, stop,” Phichit replies. “You are not contractually obligated to only ever cosplay with me. You can do a thing with him, I’m not offended as long as you don’t completely abandon our partnership. I’ll probably do that Bleach outfit you have no interest in, it’s fine! Do the thing!”

“You sure?” Yuuri says.

“Yeah, but I’ll need your help,” Phichit says. “I can sculpt the actual Bankai stuff myself, but sewing the uniform is a little above my pay grade.”

“No problem,” Yuuri says with a sheepish grin. “Okay. Um---I better email him back. Thanks, Phichit. You’re a peach.”

“Yup, sure am!” Phichit laughs. “Talk to you later---my mom needs help with the pool.”

“Can I come swim later?” Yuuri asks.

“Yup! Leo and Guang-Hong are coming, Seung Gil maybe too. I’ll text you a time. Later, skater.” Phichit hangs up.

Yuuri reopens his computer like it’ll bite his hand off. 

Hi, Victor,

I’d love to meet with you! I’ll google the address and take the Metro. My cell is 571-585-1090 if you need to change plans or are running late. 

See you Saturday!

Yuuri

It’s Thursday. He can...be cool for two days.

Actually, no he couldn’t, as was evidenced by his mother on Friday night during their evening ritual of Catan begging him to try to stay still. He did not. Therefore his dad made him forfeit his sheep. 

Catan is an equilizer in the Katsuki household.

Yuuri can’t sleep, his nerves buzzing too much even though he played white noise through the headphones in his iPhone. Did nothing. Vicchan slept like everything was normal. 

Yuuri gets up way too early, obsesses way too long over his clothing, finally deciding he was as good as he can get, drives to the Silver Line, and begins the trek to the District. He gets off at the correct stop, walks to the restauant, and immediately regretts all of his choices up until that moment including being born. 

He is in a nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It’d a Wolfgang Puck dim sum restaurant. Oh no why, Victor will think he lacks culture.

“Yuuuuuri!” calls a happy, familiar voice. 

Yuuri starts and his eyes go wide. 

Victor stands before him in a linen dress shirt and a pair of salmon colored pants. His hair and skin are flawless. His eyes are beautiful. Yuuri’s heart stops and restarts. “Hi,” he manages. The shyness comes to the forefront. He wants---he isn’t sure, but...it’s something more than a hello.

He gets a hug. Victor grabs him like they’re old friends, and Yuuri hesitates but hugs him back. He pauses and takes a moment to inhale his scent---it’s not that shitty sandwalwood the douchebags at his school wear, it’s lighter...like lemon balm. 

Victor keeps a hand low on his waist as he steers him to request a table. They get a cute one for two like it’s a date. (Is it a date? Did Victor mean this as a date? Thirteen year old Yuuri will die of joy if it’s a date. It in no way can be a date.)

Victor smiles, looking like Yuuri just gave him a rainbow. “I’m glad you came,” he says.

Yuuri chokes on his water. “Uh, thanks? Um...me too.”

Victor grins. “I guess I should get down to business first. Unfortunately, it has to come before...pleasure.” 

Yuuri pushes up his eyeglasses. He nods. 

Victor pulls up an image on his phone, passing it to Yuuri. Yuuri peers down at it---it’s an elaborate fanart of Fuuma and Kamui from X/1999. They have very detailed wings, there’s obvious hand beading and embroidery on their outfits, and they’re perfectly tailored. Fuuma is in white, Kamui black, and there are red ribbons cascading off both of them. “Red string of fate,” Yuuri says out loud. 

“You spotted that,” Victor replies with a grin.

“I’ll have to get help from Phichit on the wings, I’ve never done them on my own,” Yuuri continues. 

“I have, that I can handle,” Victor says. “It’s more how finely tailored the outfits are. My tailoring is always a bit weak, so I tend to do costumes that don’t have quite such an emphasis. I have access to embroidery machines on campus, so I can have you come up to work on those. It’ll be more expedient.”

“The beading I can do in class, the home ec department is out of stuff to teach me so they just let me bring in my projects,” Yuuri admits. 

Victor gives him a look. “Wow,” he says. “And you’re...just in...high school.”

“Hm, well I turn eighteen Thanksgiving day this year,” Yuuri says. “I need to figure out college stuff soon, as a matter of fact.”

“You should come here!” Victor blurts.

Yuuri starts and looks up. “Um...”

“The Corocoran,” Victor clears up with a blush on his cheeks. “They have a production focus in their Theater program. You could...major in costuming? It’s...well, it’s an idea.”

Hm. 

“Phichit’s applying there,” Yuuri says as he zooms back in on the image. CLAMP and their Christian idolatry, yikes. “He’s going into the fine arts. I guess I could think about it.”

“I just think it’d be nice to have you around school with me,” Victor says. His finger glides over the rim of his glass in a slow pattern. “Chris Giacometti is in the photography department, but...I’d like seeing you every day too. Just think about it.”

Yuuri meets his eyes and...no, he’s imagining it. He clears his throat. “You want to make these for Katsucon?” 

“Mmhmm,” Victor says. He ordered them the duck, and it arrives, smelling crisp and mouth-watering. Yuuri is starving, he realizes. He looks at Victor again, this gorgeous guy even out of cosplay and make up and Photoshop and he---

He blushes and focuses on his dinner.

Victor chats the whole time, Yuuri chiming in where appropriate. When they finish and Victor pays as promised, he takes him on a walk. It’s late enough the murky, humid swampland that is DC has become manageable to walk around, and it’s not even ten minutes to the Mall from the restaurant. 

Yuuri mostly sees shots of the Tidal Basin at night from the end credits of his favorite local news program, but Victor escorts him there with a hand on his back as he extols the virtues of his university as well as his skills at sewing. Yuuri listens and smiles with pink cheeks, telling Victor about what he likes to do besides cosplay---video games with his friends, late nights at the Amphora diner in Reston, checking out Starland in Annandale. 

Victor opens up about his parents---his father a supervisor for a lab at Langley, his mom in the State Department, his dog Makkachin who he moved off campus into a pet-allowing studio as quickly as possible to keep by his side, how he misses the local chain called Another Universe and how he’s considering Dragoncon next year to branch out into film and American comics costumin.

They both marvel at how many times they’ve come to the annual Sakura Matsuri in their very spot at this moment and somehow never met.

The lights are pretty, the stars reflect in the water like sequins embellishing a black velvet gown, and Yuuri with all his heart longs for this to be a date. 

He’s imagining it---but some moments, it looks like Victor feels the same.

They head back to the Metro by the Newseum---Victor to GWU, Yuuri to Tysons. “Let’s do again this soon,” Victor says.”We can meet at G Street, see what our local options are, and head to my apartment for more planning.”

“Okay,” Yuuri agrees. Victor’s apartment, he exalts in his head.

“Ah, Yuuri---” Victor adds. “I have a Gaylord room for Katsu, a nice one with a view. Would you like a spot in it? There’s room for one more.”

“Oh um---” Yuuri stumbles. He’s never stayed overnight at a con before, but he’ll be 18 then. His mom and dad can’t refuse, though they’d probably want to meet Victor for reassurance.“Yes.”

“Okay,” Victor says, his smile shaped like a big heart. “Talk to you soon! I’ll text!”

“See you,” Yuuri says.

They part ways, and Yuuri can’t sleep for the second night in a row, his heart pounds so hard as his smile threatens to split his face.