#also would be very funny if he just catches passing glimpses of him looming around like gman

[ozymoron]

i really hope in hl2vrai benrys reintroduced in the most anticlimactic way and just sends gordon into a spiral

[pinballwitxh]

heavenly - request - spencer reid x oc

summary: a local sketch artist comes back in for a case the team is working on and discovers she’s slowly taken a liking to the resident genius.

warnings: so much smut, some cursing

a/n: I was so excited to write this one that I took it on right away. sorry that I went out of order but I had to get this one out!  the inspiration to write this came and went so I am sorry if some things seems repetitive and others seem...actually good lol.  enjoy!!!!

Spencer sat behind her as she introduced herself to the young victim across from them. The girl was wrapped snuggly in a blanket and fidgeting constantly.

“I’ve already told everything I know to the cops, can I please just go home?” She began to sob, “Don’t make me retell it all!”

“I’m not going to ask you anymore questions,” the artist said calmly as she leaned forward, “You just need to describe his face, anything you’re able to remember.”

“Just take some deep breaths and close your eyes,” Spencer said as he leaned over the artist’s shoulder, “It may help you to remember as many details as possible.”

The girl leaned back in her chair and wiped her eyes before nodding to them. Spencer sat back and watched the artist and her hands work, absolutely mesmerized by how fluid her hands moved and how perfect the lines were.

She didn’t even really know what this man’s face looked like and yet it was coming together beautifully.

For a little over an hour they worked with her before happily dismissing her to rejoin her worried family in the lobby. The two stood side by side with smiles as she ran into their arms, sobbing happily.

She handed him the drawing, “Team might need that soon,”

“We really appreciate all your help,” he said as he took the paper and shook her hand.

“Never thought my interest in art would take me to the FBI someday,” she said as she gathered her things.

Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled, “You have a really great gift, it’s fascinating to watch you work, actually.”

She blushed and hugged her sketchbook close to her, “Thank you, Doctor Reid-”

“You know you can call me Spencer, I think we’ve worked together enough to be on a first-name basis.” he said with a grin.

In a surge of confidence she scribbled her number down on a piece of sketchbook paper and nearly shoved it into his chest from all the nerves.  She knew she had been crushing on the genius for awhile now.

“In that case I guess we can be on texting-basis, too,” she chuckled.

Spencer held the piece of paper close, “Would it be too forward to ask you on a date before texting you?”

The look of surprise that washed over her face made Spencer think he had done something wrong, he had definitely been too forward.  He profusely apologized to her while stammering over his words.

She laid a hand on his arm, “I’d love to go on a date, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” she sighed, “It’s just been a very long time since I’ve gone on a date with anyone.  I was kind of shocked you asked me,”

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh, well you don’t have to if you aren’t ready-”

“Text me tonight so we can figure out a time, Spencer.” she winked before waving at him and turning to leave.  He watched her all the way down the hallway before turning around and cheering to himself quietly.

- 6 MONTHS LATER -

She looked around the buzzing bar for Spencer, meeting his smile from across the restaurant.  He stood from his chair and opened his arms, pulling her into a tight and close hug after she ran to him.  

It had been a two-week long case, lots of lives were lost and to say it was frustrating was an understatement.  The dark circles clouded his eyelids and his skin was so pale she questioned how long it had been since he had seen daylight.

The rest of the team laughed and they sat down, jumping back into the conversation.  His hand travelled up her thigh slowly, causing her breath to hitch in her throat.  Spencer wasn’t one for PDA, usually, but if it was happening it usually meant he was upset.  Her hand found his and her fingers coiled over his easily, holding his hand tightly and squeezing it once in awhile.

She turned to look at him in the middle of conversation, it was clear that some of the stress was already gone but it still lingered behind his tired laugh and half-hearted smiles.  He caught her stare and smiled widely at her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“I think we should all go home and get some rest,” Hotch said, a command laced behind his words.  

Before the couple left Derek approached her and brought her in for a hug, “How’s everything going with you, Der?”

He smiled, “You always know how to cheer me up with that smile, sweetness,” he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead, “I am a little worried about your man, though.”

She frowned, “What happened?”

“It shook us all, kid, not gonna lie,” he sighed, “It shook us up in different ways but Spencer was especially upset that he was away from you.”

“I mean, neither of us like it when he has to leave,”

“Just talk to him tonight, I don’t think he’s gonna sleep very well.”

She nodded and squeezed her friend in a side hug, “Thanks for looking out for him, Morgan.”

He smiled, “Always have to keep an eye on Doctor Strange.”

“I liked that reference,” Spencer said as he approached them, holding his hand out for her to take.

The drive home was very quiet, which was unusual for Spencer after coming home from a case.  His hand held hers steady over the console and he didn’t let go until they pulled into the parking garage of her apartment.  He frowned and looked over at her, “Why didn’t you drop me off at my place?”

“You already have your things packed up, so I figured you can stay the night,” she smiled as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

He didn’t object, Spencer just liked to know plans ahead of time and yet he found himself content with being here.  The elevator ride up to her apartment was also very quiet and it was starting to worry her.  Spencer was usually pretty well-recovered after coming home from a case.  

Clearly he wasn’t.

- - -

While Spencer took a very long bath and shower she got a fire going and laid out some fluffy blankets on the couch.  She had a few new movies that she had found on Netflix listed in her phone that she thought they should try out.  From the shadows her cat emerged, mewing at her and rubbing against her leg as she rifled through the fridge for food.

In a scurry her cat bounded towards the bathroom door, pawing at the wood in an attempt to find out who was on the other side.  She rolled her eyes and followed the animal, picking him up and scratching behind his ears, “You can’t get attention anytime you want, you know?”

Spencer opened the door and gasped when he saw her on the other side.  She blinked, keeping her eyes level with his so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.  Spencer hadn’t been super intimate with her, ever, and she was okay with that.  They had been slowly testing the waters, edging closer to the edge each time they were together.  

Seeing him shirtless was a rare sight and she wanted to let her eyes roam over his entire body so bad.

“I-I left my clothes in your room,” he stuttered.

She laughed nervously and stepped out of the way to let him pass.  Before he shut the door behind him she looked over her shoulder, taking a glimpse at his bare back and the water that dripped down his shoulder blades.

The door shut and she jumped at the sound, instantly brought back to reality.  Her cat squirmed against her hold so she set him down, once again he began to paw at the door Spencer had just disappeared behind.

She decided to leave him be and get as far away from his naked body as she could.

He came walking down the hall with her cat in his arms, cuddling him close.  She smiled at the sight and laughed, her cat was such a suck-up when it came to Spencer.

The couch dipped as he sat next to her, cradling her cat like a baby and scratching the underside of his chin.  She pulled her blanket up closer and offered him a glass of wine, to which he surprisingly accepted.  

“Must’ve been a hard one,” she said as she passed his glass over to him.

He nodded, “You have no idea,”

She looked away, “I’m sure I don’t, I’m sorry, Spence.”

He smiled as he set her cat down between them, “Let’s just watch a movie, something funny.”

Ten minutes later both of them were curled up warmly under separate blankets, sipping on wine and engrossed in the film.  About halfway through was when she could feel his legs pressing up against her feet and she slowly slid her legs over his own.  Without even looking at each other they settled into the new position and continued to watch.

His hand found a resting spot on her inner thighs and immediately she could feel the heat flush her face.  She shifted her legs and left him more room to slide his hand down lower, and he did.

Not even ten minutes later she decided she couldn’t take it anymore and apparently Spencer couldn’t either.

They practically lunged at each other after making eye contact.  His placed both of his hands on her hips while hers latched onto the sides of his face.  There wasn’t much time left for breathing as they kissed deeply and hungrily, tugging at each other’s lips and tongues sliding around one another.  

She slid lower onto the couch with a vice-like grip on his collar.  His body loomed over hers and he subtly nudged her legs apart, making room for him to lay between them.  He hastily tossed the blanket to the side and groaned at the fact that the only thing separating them now was a very thin layer of clothes.

“Spence,” she moaned quietly between kisses, his hard-on becoming very apparent now.  He ground his hips down onto hers, something he had recently learned that she liked.  She shuddered at the contact as a chill spread throughout her whole body.

He let out a small groan, “I need you,” he whispered.

For a moment she didn’t think she heard him correctly, so she continued to kiss his lips feverishly.  He barely had time to catch a breath between the needy kisses, so he pulled away and captured her face in his hands.  

She opened her eyes and stared up at him, chest heaving.

“I want you, so bad,” he whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She blinked, “W-want me as in. . .”

He cleared his throat and nodded, “In every single way possible,”

His eyes flickered across her face and he smiled down at her.  She noticed it was a small smile, but genuine nonetheless.  She propped herself up on her elbows and kissed him deeply, taking his larger hand in hers.  Slowly she guided his hand to her breast before he took over, massaging it slowly.  His breath caught in his throat as she ran a hand up his chest, fingers dipping beneath the seam of the Cal Tech shirt he wore.  

He dove his head low to her neck, nearly suffocating himself in the warmth of her skin.  He peppered kisses all over her throat and with his tongue he could taste the faintest bit of sweat beginning to form on her.  She let out a guttural growl, something Spencer had never heard from her before.

His erection twitched and he ground against her slow and hard.  With her arms wrapped around his neck she sighed into his shoulder, kissing the exposed skin on his neck as he nudged her bra off slowly.  Soon both of their shirts were off and Spencer had yet to open his eyes.  

She sat up and straddled his lap, tilting his head up to meet her stare.  He slowly opened his eyes, brows knitted together in a deep frown.

She placed a strand of hair behind his ear, “Are you sure you want to?”

He nodded vigorously, “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” he said quietly, tracing his knuckle over her cheek.

“Then what’s got you hesitating?”

He looked away and pulled her close, not saying a word.  For a moment she waited, not sure what to expect from her boyfriend.  Spencer was a very quiet person when it came to his feelings.  Despite the fact they had been dating for nearly 6 months, she found that did nothing when it came to talking about their feelings.

“You have to talk to me if you want to do this,” she whispered as she took his face into her hands and forcing him to look at her.

There were tears in his eyes and she frowned, immediately pulling him into her hold and hugging him close.  Quietly he cried into her neck, shoulders heaving with the faintest hiccups.  She shushed him, sitting up against the couch and cradling him.  

Nothing like this ever happened and it startled her a little bit.

“Stop hiding things from me, Spencer,” she kissed the top of his head.

He pulled away and wiped at his dark eyes, “I’ve never been more of anything else in my life,” he paused to take a deep breath, “Those two weeks that I was gone was one of the most eye-opening experiences ever.”

She nodded and kissed his cheek, “I’m so sorry,”

“There was a couple, they were engaged,” he smiled, “And I could see us being them.  B-but,” he paused, “She was murdered and there was nothing we could have done to stop it.  Her fiancé, he was so broken. . .”

“But I’m here, right now, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you are, but it made me reevaluate us and what we are,”

She sat back with wide eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re-”

“Absolutely not, I couldn’t imagine life without you,” he kissed her deeply, “It made me realize how badly I don’t want to lose you.”

She placed a hand on his cheek with tears in her eyes, beginning to understand what he was saying.

“I’m so ready to share me with you, all of me, and I don’t want to waste anymore time because our time here is so precious,” he smiled, “It made me realize how much I love you, seeing all of that.”

She pressed her lips to his held him so close that there was no space left between them.  The kissing grew heated and more passionate and sweat began to pool at her forehead.  She pulled away with a smile and tugged him as she stood up.

Spencer held her hand tight as they walked to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them.  Spencer pulled her to him with hands on her waist, staring down at her with tear streaks across his cheeks.  She smiled up at him and kissed his nose, eliciting a small chuckle from him.

“We don’t have to do this, I don’t want you to feel like you have to just because you’re upset or because of anything I’ve ever said to you-”

“I want to.”

The confidence in his voice and the look in his eyes was something familiar to her, she had felt it in her own body before awhile ago.  He leaned down slowly and captured her lips in his own strong ones, a smile crossing his face.  She wrapped her arms around him and he lifted her up, to her surprise, and carried her to the bed.

The city lights streamed in from the window, she had a perfect view with large windows to accompany it.

He laid her down gently and allowed her to run her hands over his chest, studying him.  Adoringly he gazed at her while she took him in with her eyes.  She had an artist’s mind, he remembered, she liked to study people and every piece of them.  

She was trying to drink in every bit of him that her mind could allow, she was finally getting to know him physically and she wanted to remember every little detail.  Every little freckle, scar, birthmark and indent on his body.

“You’re gorgeous,” she whispered with a laugh.

He blushed, “Thank you,”

She met his eyes before letting her hands trail lower, running over the bulge in his pants.  He let his eyes slide shut and groaned at the feeling of her palming him.  It felt heavenly, this was a feeling he never knew existed.  It was so perfect.

She yanked his belt off and slowly unzipped him, allowing him time to adjust to the feelings.  He nodded his head when she began to tug down on his pants, asking with the look in her eyes if it was okay.

Once his pants were off, he too began to run his hands over her hips and the jeans that clothed her.  She smiled at him and tugged down on her pants, allowing him to help her slide them off, leaving them in only their under garments.

His lips parted in awe, he had never seen her like this.  Her hair spilled all around her and the lights from the outside made her look so ethereal.  She was everything he wanted, and he wanted her now.

Slowly he lowered himself to her chest, placing his hands on each of her breasts and squeezing lightly.  She ran a hand through his long curls and smiled as he ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples.  A gasp escaped her mouth as he finally dipped down to suck on her.

Her body was on fire.

He could feel just how wet for him she was and he never imagined a feeling quite like it.  He groaned as he switched to her other breast, taking her in his mouth once again.  His tongue swirled around the throbbing bud and the joy it brought to him to hear her moan his name only made him want her even more.

If that was possible.

He pulled away and immediately she was straddling him, grinding her hips against his own.  She pushed him back on the bed and he settled into her duvet, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of her mouth on his stomach.

He gasped when her fingers curled around the seam of his underwear, tickling him the slightest bit.

“Is this okay?” she asked quietly.

He opened his eyes and peered over at her, “Keep going,” 

She smiled and continued to pull his underwear off, slowly sliding it down his legs.  Her focus was solely on him as she leaned down to take his length into her mouth.

He shuddered violently and he gripped the sheets tightly.

“Relax, Reid, just close your eyes.”

He nodded and she went back to work, bobbing her head up and down gently.  He whimpered as she placed a hand at the base of his cock, beginning to pump it with her mouth.  His hand found it’s way into her hair that dangled over his thighs and he tugged each time her mouth squeezed around him.

His whimpers turned to cries of pleasure and soon he found himself teetering over the edge.

“I’m ready, please,”

She pulled away and clambered over him, kissing his lips with desire and hunger that neither of them had felt.

“I-Is this your first time?” he asked quietly.

She pulled away and smiled at him before shaking his head, “It’s been a long time, but it isn’t my first,”

“A-Are you sure you want me-”

“Nothing will ever change my mind about you, and I hope that it doesn’t change your mind about me,”

“Of course it doesn’t,” he said as he ran his thumb over her cheekbone.

She smiled, “All that matters is that I love you and I want to this to be everything you want and more.”

Tears brimmed his eyes once more and he kissed her forehead, “I love you too,”

She pulled him close and laid back on the bed as his body towered over hers, a hunger in his eyes that made her nearly come undone on the spot.  Slowly he peeled her panties away and off her legs, his eyes never leaving her own.

“You can look, Spencer,”

His eyes traveled down her body and to her throbbing core.  His hands roamed over her body and shook with excitement.  She placed a hand over his own and guided it to her center, nodding.

His hands explored her folds delicately, rubbing her nub when her moans became louder.  She was dripping for him and it made him so hungry for her.

He reached for his erect cock, stroking it slightly before lining himself up with her.  She leaned up on her elbows and placed a hand over his, guiding himself closer to her entrance.  She held his gaze and urged him to push, “We can go slow,”

He nodded before finally leaning into her, pushing his entire length inside of her.  His moans carried over hers and he shuddered, leaning over her body to take some deep breaths.  She arched her back with a hand around his neck, moaning his name.

He twitched inside of her at the sound of his name and immediately felt the urge to begin pumping in and out of her slowly.  His movements were soft and agile, paying close attention to her body language and slowly figuring out what she liked best.

“Does it hurt?” he asked timidly.

She shook her head, “It feels perfect, Spence.” she said breathily.

He finally pulled away to look at her as he sped up his pace.  Her breasts were bouncing with each thrust he gave and her lips were parted in what seemed bliss.  Her eyes were squeezed shut, but her eyebrows were knitted in ecstasy.  The sweat covering her body made her shine in the lights of the city coming in from the windows.  

She looked like an angel, he thought.

Her eyes open and he slowed his thrusting, holding her wide-eyed stare.  She smiled up at him and let loose a small laugh, one that he loved so much.  She pulled him close and kissed him deeply as he stopped inside of her.

“I-Is everything okay-?”

“I just wanted to look at you,” she whispered as she ran a thumb over his nose.

Spencer smiled, tears pooling in his orbs once again.  They trailed over his cheeks and onto her own, the emotion slowly building up in her.  Soon she had tears of her own spilling down the sides of her face.

“Happy tears?” he asked her, placing her hair behind her ear.

She nodded, “Happy tears.”

He smiled before placing a very passionate kiss on her lips, beginning to move inside of her once again.  Spencer watched her very closely as she began to squirm even more beneath his body.

“G-God I’m so close,” he breathed out, “Jesus. . .”

She looked up to him and held his gaze as his thrusting turned into pounding as he held himself to her.  His eyes finally met hers and she watched as he came undone inside of her.  The moans of her name in her ear sent her coming quickly undone as well, clinging to him with desperate cries of pleasure as he finished the last of his bucking hips against her.

For awhile they laid there, tangled in each other’s limbs and coming down from the pleasurable high.  She tangled her hands into his messy curls and massage his head, his breath heavy against her neck.

He finally pulled out of her, another moan coming from both of them.

He leaned down and kissed her long and hard, his tongue probing the insides of her mouth gently.  She giggled against his lips and pulled him down next to her.  Propped up on her elbows she placed a hand on his chest and drew soft circles.  He smiled up at her, studying her face.

“That was incredible,” he said quietly, placing a hand on her cheek.

She turned to him, “Was it everything you expected?” she looked away from his eyes with a sad look.

He frowned, “It was everything and so much more,” he made her look at him, “I feel closer to you than I ever have with anyone else in my life before.”

She let out a small, happy sob at his words.  Leaning into him she kissed the palm of his calloused hand smiled up at him, “It’s not an earthly feeling, is it?”

He shook his head and patted the spot next to him.  She quickly snuggled under the covers and nuzzled up to his chest.

“I don’t think anything can explain this,”

She scoffed, “Doctor Spencer Reid is stumped?”

THE MASTERLIST | REQUEST DETAILS

[anartiststale]

For Lack of a Better Title (Ch. 7) Born To Run

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8

AO3

Here it finally is, the last part I posted before I ghosted.

It was a particularly chilly morning even for Snowdin, but Sans paid it no mind as he sat at his sentry station with his chin resting on his palm.

His mustard supply was running low, so he would need to make a stop at Grillby’s sometime soon.

He could do it on his walk home. He could also just teleport back and do it on the way to work the next day. The sea tea’s effects had worn off about an hour ago and he barely had the energy to keep his head up let alone drag himself across Snowdin.

If there was one thing keeping him awake it was his concern over his brother’s behaviour the previous night. He could tell Papyrus was making a serious effort to change, but he’d nearly lost his mind laughing over what? A broken cup?

He lived for jokes, and even he couldn’t find anything funny about it. Unless there was something flying way over his head, which wouldn’t be that surprising with his height.

He chuckled softly to himself. That was a joke Papyrus would’ve appreciated.

But even that wasn’t enough to distract him from the fatigue pressing down on his posture and pulling his eye sockets shut.

On an ordinary day, he wouldn’t have thought twice about dozing off at work, but this was different. For one, his usual naps were always light enough to allow him a decent reaction time if something were to actually happen. The tired he was feeling now was nothing short of an ache, and he was willing to bet that if he fell asleep now he wouldn’t be waking up any time soon.

Aside from his safety, however, there was the weight on his conscience as well, because as harsh and over-reactive as Papyrus could be, Sans also had his own share of faults. His slacking over the years had gone from involuntary to intentional after their first miserable years in Snowdin, so much so that Sans would go out of his way to piss his superiors off.

But it was different now. Papyrus was trying to improve himself, and Papyrus never half-assed a task. It only seemed fair that Sans make an effort too.

And that meant not falling ...

He jolted back awake and groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Thinking about staying awake wasn’t helping. In fact the act of sitting itself seemed to be working against him.

Sans slid slowly off his stool and moved to the open space behind his station to stretch. He pulled his arms above his head, relishing in the loud popping of his joints. Satisfied, he reached down to his toes. As far as he could anyway. He made it halfway before resigning to just hang limply.

It was a nice position though. If he swayed side to side, it was almost like being rocked. He let himself relax into the motion, drifting left, then right, then back and forth again …

The sensation of falling was all the warning he got before his body tumbled forward. The snow was soft enough to cushion his fall. As uncomfortable as the snow melting into his jacket was, he wanted so badly to curl up and give in to the exhaustion that was now clawing at his soul.

Tired was a feeling he’d gotten used to over the years, but this was something he hadn’t experienced in ages. The tears pricking the corners of his eyes were just barely holding back the frantic part of him that wanted nothing more than to break down and cry until he fell asleep. This must be how babies felt, he thought. Papyrus had certainly thrown his fair share of sleepy tantrums as a child.

He couldn’t let his thoughts drift, though. He had to get up.

He didn’t want to.

But he really needed to get up.

And he really, _really _did not want to.

Shut up, he told himself. In one brief surge of energy he pushed himself onto his knees, then crawled back over to his station and used the wall to hoist himself back up.

His soul was beginning to pulsate with the need to shut down and rest. As good as it’d made him feel, he was starting to regret accepting that tea from Papyrus. He knew it was meant as a kind gesture, but the lack of sleep it caused was making it increasingly difficult for Sans to do his job.

He finally struggled back into his seat, legs dangling a foot above the ground. At the very least, he thought, he could keep his head propped up on his forearms so that if he did lose this battle against sleep, he would fall and wake back up again.

In the meantime, he would close his eyes and just listen for a few minutes.

His breathing slowed to a crawl as his mind emptied itself of thought.

He wasn’t even aware he’d fallen asleep until he was startled awake by a fist slamming onto the table in front of him.

He nearly fell off of his stool from the jolt. It took his bleary mind a moment to focus on the pair of eyes glaring down at him. He couldn’t be sure in his post-sleep haze, but if he wasn’t mistaken, the glare seemed rather forced. He could barely comprehend the noises leaving Papyrus’s mouth, but if he concentrated hard enough, he could see the thinnest threads of concern laced in Papyrus’s expression.

He realized why when he glanced past his brother and saw Undyne glowering over his shoulder, watching Papyrus deliver his lecture with disgusted interest.  

All the words about how lazy and insufferable Sans was held less of their usual vigor. Undyne was clearly oblivious, but having raised Papyrus, Sans could tell his soul wasn’t in his insults.

He could still feel tiredness creeping along the edge of his vision, but by then he was alert enough to play along. He pretended to be annoyed as Papyrus went on ranting. He even added a “Piss off, it’s your fault I didn’t get any sleep” for effect.

Too much effect, apparently, because something in Papyrus’s expressions shifted. For a split second, Sans saw genuine hurt flash in his eyes, but the moment passed instantly, overtaken by the pure, unbridled anger he was used to.

Papyrus grabbed Sans roughly by the front of his jacket, pulling him up against the counter. “What did you just say to me?” he growled.

Sans did not intend for Papyrus to take his retort seriously. That should’ve been a sign that he needed to tone the snide comments down, but a stubborn part of him was less than unwilling to grovel in front of Undyne.

In fact, if he was being completely honest, he partially blamed her for Papyrus’s exceedingly violent nature. The day he showed any vulnerability to her would be the day Papyrus ate food from Grillby’s of his own accord.

But he had to react, so he settled for a sneer and two middle fingers.

He regretted that immediately.

The backhand that followed came as more of a surprise than it should have.

Sans found himself on his side in the snow beneath his station, wide-eyed and clutching at his face.

He honestly hadn’t been expecting Papyrus to do that.

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

He didn’t see the mortification that passed over Papyrus’s face, missed the hesitation before Papyrus put on a snarl so as not to rouse any suspicion from Undyne. She still stood behind him, arms crossed and looking grim, her very presence looming over him like a shadow.

“Get back to work,” Papyrus snapped. “Don’t let me catch you slacking off again.”  

They left Sans sitting on the ground, trying desperately to convince himself that that hit had been a part of the act, just his brother going above and beyond to convince Undyne, but ...

The sharp stinging in Sans’s cheek said otherwise, and the glower on Papyrus’s face had looked genuine.

Sans shoved himself up.

He kicked his sentry post, causing two empty bottles to fall over onto the ground.

He wanted to yell, wanted to scream, wanted to do anything but be there where even the desk he sat at was a reminder of his stupid, asshole, fucker of a boss.

Stars, when had he even started calling him that? Better yet, why had he agreed to call him that? Oh right, because he was weak and lazy and a pushover when it came to his brother, so what the hell did it matter if he was mistreated all the time, right?

He couldn’t keep thinking about this. He hadn’t felt this angry since ... he didn’t even know. He couldn’t think at all. The red in his vision was especially distracting.  

A distorted glimpse of his reflection in one of the fallen bottles clued him in as to why. He immediately dampened the flare in his socket.

Maybe he was overreacting.

Or maybe not, because for years upon years he’d put up with his brother smacking him around to impress his fish-faced captain without any complaints. He knew - he’d acknowledged - that progress in their relationship would be slow, painstaking even, but for all the times he’d put up with Papyrus’s tantrums, not once had he ever retaliated.

That fact had never grated on him so much, but now it was the only thought cycling through his mind.

He was angry, and he every right to be.

He looked down at the bottles beneath his feet. Like hell he was about to stay at his post. He didn’t even care what Papyrus would do if he found him gone during his shift. He needed to get out of there.

So he went to the one place he knew Papyrus wouldn’t follow.

Undyne was staring expectantly at him.

They’d walked away from Sans’s post to finish their rounds, and even after ten minutes checking stations and getting reports, Papyrus still felt numb. Every part of him was screaming to return to his brother and apologize.

Of all the flaws he wanted to fix about himself, his flaring temper managed to get overshadowed among other issues. Only now, when Sans’s insubordination was enough to rile him up, did Papyrus remember just how explosive his temper could be.

Usually he prided himself on his duress under pressure, and usually, he could effectively control his emotions on the job. But for reasons beyond him, something about Sans brought out the worst in him.

A part of him still wanted to justify his actions with Sans’s comment. He knew it wasn’t true, knew Sans didn’t really hold his efforts to help last night against him. Neither of them had even thought ahead to the next day.

In fact, if Papyrus had realized sooner that he and Undyne would be making rounds that day, he would’ve had Sans stay home to rest.

Instead, he’d succumbed to the pressure Undyne’s presence put on him. He didn’t want to reprimand his brother for something he knew was out of Sans’s control, but he couldn’t not discipline him in front of his superior.

And even that was something of an excuse. There were plenty of significantly better reactions he could have had, but instead he chose to lash out impulsively.

“Papyrus.” Undyne stopped abruptly, barring an arm across his chest.

The world seemed to still alongside them, silent and empty until Undyne filled it with an unexpectedly gentle voice.

“I’m not even going to begin to try and understand your relationship with your brother, but ... if it’s affecting your work, and you need some time off to resolve ... look, if something’s going on ...”

Papyrus could see what she was getting at, but he wasn’t very eager to ask for time off. That would mean no outlet during the day, giving him plenty of time to dwell on his inability to fix himself.

And besides, there was no way he was giving his captain any ammunition for even a remote potential future accusation against his work ethic.

He politely declined the offer. She nodded, looking like she had more to say, but they both knew it wouldn’t be a very productive conversation if she continued, so she dropped the subject.

The rest of their route was smooth but uneventful. They picked up reports, got first-hand status checks on the goings on of Snowdin. Papyrus tried his best not to check out for most of it, but Undyne seemed to notice his mental absence.

At the end of the day she dismissed him from their usual sparring session, claiming that she had too much paperwork to catch up on.

Papyrus was left to his own thoughts on his trek back home through waterfall. The closer he got to home, the more anxious he grew, and the stronger his guilt became.

His mind decided to take an unusual train. Instead of jumping to accusations, he was playing out ... scenarios. Scenarios that made his soul twist, where he was going to his brother and doing something that would have been unthinkable before: simply apologizing. He wasn’t even sure if he knew how to properly apologize. His emotional vomit to Sans didn’t count - that had been more or less accidental, a split second reaction made out of panic.

Now, he needed to do it voluntarily, and he had no idea how to say two simple words.

His incapability was beginning to annoy him. He didn’t even realize he was muttering aloud to himself until he heard his own voice echoed back at him.

He pivoted to face the sound, conjuring a weapon on instinct.

“It’s not like I’m not trying,” an echo flower whispered up at him.

It sounded ... pathetic. He sounded pathetic. What was he doing, sulking through the caves of Waterfall and complaining to himself? He should be at home, making amends, or at the very least explaining himself.

He let his weapon dissolve.

_It’s not like I’m not trying. _

Listen to him, complaining about his own pitiful self as if it would do any good. It certainly wouldn’t change the fact that he didn’t by any standard deserve the word “great” in his title. “Terrible” on the other hand might as well be a word made just for him.

It’s not like I’m not –

“Shut up.”

Shut up shut up shut up shut –

“STOP.”

A snicker farther down the path wasn’t completely hidden by the chorus of echo flowers that had taken up an overwhelming melody of shouts. Papyrus swept a frustrated wave of bone attacks across the expanse ahead of him.

He only succeeded in wiping out a patch of grass, making the noise echoing off the walls of the cavern unbearably loud.

He stalked forward, searching for the source of the laugh. He scraped a hole through the palm of one of his gloves when he couldn’t find one.

He spent a minute pacing around, burning a path into the cave floor until he echo flowers’ blaring reduced itself to a soft whisper and the cavern was once again near silent. Even then he continued back and forth for a long stretch of time before he headed to the area’s namesake.

The waterfall was loud enough that he couldn’t think, enough to force his mind to relax and focus on one thing at a time. He needed to get home, first and foremost. If Sans was there, he’d apologize. If he wasn’t, he’d wait. Either way he’d fix things now, before it became a problem too big to handle.

It was a plan, and it was simple.

He could do simple.

As he continued back, he tried to occupy his mind with trivial things: training tomorrow, cooking techniques, organizing his closet again.

Just as he passed the delineation point between Waterfall and Snowdin, more laughter caught his attention. He paused and shifted around to find the source, ready for a fight if need be.

He stopped short of an attack when he saw that he was not in fact being mocked. Where he was expecting to find a jeering monster hiding between tree trunks, he saw instead children.

He scoffed to himself, ready to turn away, when a flash of red caught his attention, compelling him to study the kids closer. They were both of the same species, but one was clearly older, wearing a bright red jacket that he was tempted to go over and warn them about. Being young and defenseless, they might as well have been holding up a flashing sign inviting attacks.

But he already knew approaching them wouldn’t do any good. There wasn’t a monster in Snowdin who didn’t know who he was, and if full-grown adults veered from his path, children were sure to bolt on sight.

As if on cue, the older one turned and spotted him. The smile melted off of their face, replaced with dread. Without taking taking their eyes off him – Papyrus silently commended them for it – they ushered the younger monster to their feet and retreat farther into the woods, not turning to run until they’d put a substantial distance between them.

Papyrus made his way to the clearing the children were playing in. He told himself he was only curious, considering not many children were out and about in the middle of the day, and in such a public place no less. He may or may not have been walking slower than normal just to stall the time.

As he approached two indeterminable lumps of snow, he realized that they weren’t so indeterminable after all.

They were snowmen.

The amount of memories that came flooding into his mind was almost laughable. It had been ages since he’d last played in the snow, a time that had faded into the back of his memory, but those had been some of the best times of his childhood.

He had a fleeting desire to kneel down and continue the kids’ work, to feel the familiar cool texture of snow molding in his hands and see the clear progress of a perfectly formed structure coming together. He remembered the familiar scent of the scarf Sans would give him when they went out, hear the intoxicating sound of his genuine laughter ...

The small smile tugging at the corners of his jaw vanished.

They’d lost all of that because of him, hadn’t they. His gross turn in behavior had forced Sans away, and now his distance was only driving them further apart.

He couldn’t let that keep happening.

He knew it.

He _felt _it.

This new resolve filled him with something he couldn’t quite place, but it was like all the confidence he had in battle and cooking combined and multiplied by a million.

He felt determined, and he was going to seize the opportunity to do something, to take that first real step toward reconciliation that he should’ve taken long ago.

The remainder of the walk home was suddenly easier. He paid no mind to anyone around him, making a beeline to their house. His hands was shaking by the time he got to the door, so much that it took him a good minute just to get the key into the lock. When it opened, he stepped inside. A quick glance around for clothing items on the floor confirmed that Sans wasn’t home yet, so he went through his ritual of removing his gloves and boots by the door before heading to his room to take off his armor.

Normal, familiar tasks to ground his racing mind.

He couldn’t ever recall feeling this nervous before. For as long as he could remember, he had always been confident in his ability, or at the very least proud enough to convince himself that he was more than capable.

Now there was so much room for doubt and error. He was seeing for perhaps the first time a possibility of things not going how he wanted them to, and above all else it scared him. For once, he was going to need more than just confidence to get himself successful results.

By the time he get back downstairs, Sans still wasn’t home. Papyrus had no idea if that wasn’t normal or not. In fact he couldn’t seem to focus his attention on any thought that wasn’t his short, sweet plan.

Stand up and apologize as soon as Sans walked in the door.

Papyrus was still seated on the couch, running a phalange up and down the scar over his eye, when Sans finally walked through the door. Stumbled, rather, but Papyrus was too concerned with not losing his nerve to pay it much attention.

Hoisting himself up took more effort than it should have. His bones felt leaden, his mouth cottony. He told himself it was now or never. “Sans, I need to –”

“Fuck off.”

Of all the possible outcomes, he wasn’t expecting this.

“Knew you ... couldn’t change,” Sans slurred. Papyrus finally noticed how his brother’s eye lights seemed to be having trouble focusing on him. Sans almost pitched forward when he tried to take a step forward.

In retrospect, Papyrus couldn’t even say he was surprised that he lost his temper. Something about seeing that his brother felt the need to go and drink himself stupid because of him had his mind reeling back to his old thought processes, where he was finding any and every way to blame Sans for his own misfortune.

“I can always count on you to get wasted instead of doing your job,” he bit out, narrowing his eye sockets in revulsion.

Sans scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah? Well I can always count on you to be an asshole.”

“At least I’m an asshole with standards!”

“That’s not what you said last time you fucked me!”

It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back before all hell seemed to break loose in their living room. “You insolent little –”

He lunged at Sans, who dodged easily, teleporting across the room as soon as Papyrus’s clawed hand came shooting out. His aim was slightly amiss, his inebriated mind unable to focus very well, and Sans ended up crashing into the staircase.

Papyrus took the opportunity to get him off guard, but Sans was quicker than he anticipated and he ended up in the same position as his brother a few moments earlier as Sans teleports away. This time he stumbled across the living room and tripped over a stray shoe.

He was fast, but not fast enough. Before he could recover enough to teleport again, Papyrus was pinning him down, one gloved hand cinching the vertebrae in his neck.

“Oh Papyrus, choke me harder,” he mocked.

Papyrus was seriously tempted to.

But almost immediately his palm pressed into something sharp. His first thought was that something on Sans’ neck is broken, which was enough to make withdraw his hand immediately.

He realized soon after that it wasn’t a broken bone.

It was metal.

Pointed but not sharp enough to cut.

“You ... kept this?” He reached down slowly, hesitantly fingering the soft leather of the collar that was hidden partially beneath his brother’s jacket.

How had he never noticed? It was a pretty obvious accessory, unless Sans had been keeping it concealed intentionally, in which case he still figured he should have noticed because he was the one that gave it to Sans in the first place. They also lived together, and ate together, and sometimes even slept together, and still somehow he’d never noticed.

Sans didn’t reply, and Papyrus couldn’t bring himself to look away from the collar and up at Sans’s face.

The anger was subsiding, the guilt settling back in. He really wanted to apologize, he did.

Seeing the collar, something of a gag gift he’d given Sans ages ago, was like concrete evidence that he needed to appreciate his brother significantly more than he did.

He should apologize, he really should.

It’d be so simple to just say those two words.

But the more_ I’m sorry_ bounced around in his head, he came no closer to forcing his jaw to move.

Sans shifted below him, reminding him that he still had him pinned down.

He removed himself carefully, settling back into a kneel a few inches from Sans. He wanted to at least offer a hand to help Sans up, but he was unable to make his body comply.

He wanted to reach out and steady Sans when he began to sway, no doubt the result of his intoxication.

He wanted so badly to explain himself and find a way to make it up.

Instead, he asked what Sans wants for dinner.

“Like it matters,” was the mumbled response he received.

They might never be able to move on, he realized. He was so stuck in his stubbornly static, and the trust in their relationship was beyond repair. There was no way to undo their tumultuous past, and they couldn’t just pretend it never happened.

But Papyrus couldn’t for the life of him confront it, so he kept his mind carefully blank so at the very least he wasn’t thinking about it.

Neither of them moved.

One of them sighed, but he couldn’t tell if it was himself or Sans.

“I’m not that hungry,” came Sans’s final reply.

The phrase rattled around Papyrus’s head like the echo flowers in waterfall, repeating and repeating until the words no longer held any meaning. They managed to linger more than any insult he’d ever received, any injury he’d ever sustained.

He may or may not have said “okay.” He thought he was headed toward the kitchen, but instead of a pot handle he found a doorknob in his hand. Instead of the heat of a stove, he felt the chill from the wind.

Instead of confronting, he was avoiding.

Instead of standing his ground, he was running.

[ndrv3winterexchange]

The Cornerstone of a Japanese Autumn

Here’s a gift of Togahina for @healing-hanyou, from umekopyon! I’m so eager for you to finally read it! It must have made tumblr too hungry to keep from eating it…

It’s actually a good thing I had to re-submit because Merriam-Webster just tweeted about a common misspelling that I happened to make in this very fic 👀 Now it’s fixed!

Happy holidays, and I hope you enjoy!

The Cornerstone of a Japanese Autumn

It all began for an admittedly juvenile reason.  But it really wasn’t her fault; Togami started it!

It was early September, and Class 78’s first practical exams at Hope’s Peak Academy were quickly approaching.  For athletes like Asahina, the process would be incredibly straight-forward; just go out there and show those proctors what you do best!  For others, though, displaying their talents would take a little more thought and preparation, so their homeroom teacher had given them several free periods each week to get ready.  With their class quickly growing as close as it was, they naturally gathered together to brainstorm, which quickly devolved into gossip and speculation about other classes’ presentations.

“Man, I wish we had culinary students in this class so we could taste what they’re making for exams,” Asahina groused, beginning to salivate at the mere thought of it.  "Isn’t there one in Class 77?  So lucky…“

"Um, the Ultimate Cook, right?”  Maizono fidgeted a bit in her seat.  "I think I’ve met him.  I, uh… wouldn’t consider it luck to be in the same class as him…“

"Besides, who says he won’t make enough for the whole school to try?”  Kuwata grinned as he leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

“Because it’s against school regulations!”  Ishimaru slammed a hand on a desk and stood up, pointing at Kuwata accusingly.  "And sit properly!“

Grumbling, Kuwata returned his feet to the floor.

"What do you mean, against school regulations?” Enoshima asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  "Doesn’t that perv make lunch for the whole school every day anyway?  No one’s had a problem with that before.“

Kirigiri sighed.  "The practical exams are a different story.  After last year’s incident, anything prepared for the proctors is being closely inspected.  It would be a logistical nightmare to enact those precautions for all the students, too.”

“Still…!”  Asahina kicked her feet petulantly.  "I wish I could taste what he’s making!  And it’s almost autumn, too…!“

Togami peered over the book he was reading.  "What does autumn have to do with anything?”

“Well, duh.” Asahina rolled her eyes.  "All the tastiest ingredients are in season this time of year.  Autumn’s the season of eating!“

"Ridiculous.”  Togami returned his attention back to his dumb super-intellectual book.  "Such a plebeian manner of thinking.  Autumn is the season for reading, not eating.“

Asahina paused her feet mid-kick before lowering them back down to the floor.  "What?  No way.  Autumn is for filling up on good foods!”

Togami scoffed.  "Hardly.  Reading is the cornerstone of a Japanese autumn.  Fukawa, you tell her.“

"R-reading is the cornerstone of a J-Japanese autumn!”

Now that just wasn’t fair!  One, because of course Fukawa would readily agree with him—she was a literary girl, and she had a huge crush on Togami.  And two, because Asahina didn’t even know what “cornerstone” meant!  Using complicated words like that was just playing dirty!  She was determined not to back down, though.  "Nuh-uh, eating is the cornerstone of a Japanese autumn!  And I can prove it, too!“

"Enlighten me.”

Asahina pointed dramatically at the heir, grinning smugly.  "It’s ‘cause autumn is also the season for sports, and how are you gonna get all those burned calories back by reading?  You can’t!“

"Stop arguing, you two!” Ishimaru commanded.  "Eating, reading, and sports are all traditionally considered to be important facets of autumn in Japan!  There’s no reason to declare one to be more true than the other!“

"Bro, shush,” Owada said, pulling the hall monitor back into his seat.  "Let them duke it out.  You gotta admit it’s kinda funny!“

"Do you have no shame, brother?!”

Togami snapped his book shut with finality and stood up.  "This is foolish.  I’ll be going elsewhere to prepare my presentation.“

Asahina quickly moved to stand in his way.  "Oh, yeah right!  You weren’t even doing that in the first place.  You’re just trying to run away because you know that you’re wrong!”

Togami’s eyes flashed dangerously.  "I’m wrong, you say?“

"Guys, stop this,” Naegi spoke up, trying to defuse the situation.  "Like Ishimaru-kun said, neither of you are wrong, so this argument is just—"

“Shut up Naegi!” the two shouted in unison.

“Asahina…”  A heavy hand was placed on the swimmer’s shoulder, and she looked up to see Sakura gazing down at her, gentle but stern.  "Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit far?  At the very least, there’s no reason to snap at Naegi.“

"Oh…”  She looked over at the luckster guiltily—that really hadn’t been fair of her, now that Sakura mentioned it.  "Yeah, I’m sorry about that, I guess that was getting kind of childish… right, Togami?“  She turned her attention back to the heir—only to realize that he had disappeared.  "Hey, where’d he go?!”

“He left,” Ikusaba deadpanned.

“Ugh, that sore loser!”  Asahina stamped her foot in annoyance.  "Whatever!  I’m definitely going to prove him wrong the next time I see him!“

The argument, however, took a backseat as the pressure of their looming practical exams continued to build; Asahina focused her energy on training with Sakura to make sure they were in top physical shape, and Togami was presumably off doing whatever stupid affluent progeny stuff he needed to do.

Eventually, the exams came and went, September melted into October, and by that point their disagreement had completely slipped from Asahina’s mind.

That is, it slipped her mind until one afternoon in late October, when Asahina decided to burn off some excess energy by jogging around campus.  After running a few laps between the eastern corner of campus and the Reserve Course gates, she looped through the central plaza one last time before heading south towards the student dormitories.  As she jogged that last stretch, though, she caught sight of someone sitting on one of the benches lining the path: Byakuya Togami, the antisocial butthole, calmly relaxing with his nose stuck in a book.

Seeing the Ultimate Affluent Progeny reading a book, framed by the rusty autumn leaves, prompted the memory of their argument to come rushing back and Asahina slowed to a stop in front of him.  "Hey,” she said, trying to catch his attention.

He didn’t respond, and simply turned a page in his book.

“I said hey!” she repeated, leaning in closer to make her point clear.

Sighing, Togami shot a withering look at her over the top of his glasses.  "What do you want?“ he asked, as if doing so pained him more than anything else in the world.

Asahina crossed her arms.  "You’re still convinced that reading is the ideal autumn activity, huh?”

“This again?”  Togami rolled his eyes and returned his gaze to the book.  "I don’t have time for your foolishness.  Leave me alone.“

Not one to drop the subject, Asahina leaned over further to catch a glimpse of the book her classmate was so engrossed in.  "Whoa, are you reading something in English?”

“It’s Russian.  How did you mistake Cyrillic for— never mind.”  With a sigh, Togami snapped the book shut.  "Do you have no intention of leaving me alone?“

"Not really.”  Without bothering to ask permission, Asahina plopped herself down on the bench next to him.  "Gosh, I can’t even read something in Japanese if I’m feeling a little bit hungry.  How can you concentrate on reading in another language without a belly full of food?“

"Don’t make me out to be like that half-baked imitation of myself that enrolled last year,” Togami huffed.

Well, at least there was some sort of baking going on with the other guy! she thought.  "I just don’t get how you can say that reading is more of an autumn activity than eating.“

"Eating exorbitant amounts of food is a vulgar pastime, regardless of the season.”

“Hey, you better apologize to all the hardworking farmers of Japan for what you just said!”

“Reading, on the other hand,” Togami continued, ignoring her completely, “is a worthy intellectual pursuit.  And there’s nothing quite like indulging in a good book while sitting in the crisp autumn air, the colorful foliage offering an aesthetically pleasing backdrop.”

Asahina felt like she was about to vomit from the long string of words that took too much brain power to understand.  "Yeah, well… food tastes really good in autumn.“  Even as she said it, she knew it was far from a convincing argument, so she thought for another moment before perking up.  "Hey, I have an idea!”

“I want no part of it.”

“Oh, come on!”  She grabbed Togami by the wrist, causing him to nearly lose his grip on his book.  "It’ll be fun, just come with me for a sec!“

Togami jerked his hand away, glaring darkly at her.  "What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s a surprise!” Asahina grinned.

“Not interested.”

“Oh come on, Togami!”  She grabbed his arm again, this time making sure to use the best holding techniques Sakura had taught her so that he couldn’t shake free.  "Come on, we’re just going to the edge of campus!  It’s not far!“

Sighing in defeat, Togami got to his feet and only barely managed to pack his book safely inside his bag before he was dragged down the path.  "And where are we going, exactly?”

“Like I said, it’s not far!”

“That’s hardly specific.”

“Oh, just chill out for a moment!”  They passed the dormitories, coming in sight of the southern gates, and Asahina grinned when she spotted exactly what she was hoping to see. “There it is!  Come on, Togami, you’re gonna love this!”

She pushed open the gates to reveal food stalls and carts lining the street, hoping to attract the patronage of hungry Ultimates.  She honed in on one stall in particular and pulled Togami over to where the savory smell of grilled sweet potatoes enveloped the street.  "Here we are!  Let’s eat some sweet potatoes!“

Having finally been let free of Asahina’s grip, Togami straightened his cuff indignantly.  "Here?  It hardly seems like a sanitary eating environment.”

“That’s part of the charm!  Just give me a sec!”  She pranced over to the stall and placed an order for two sweet potatoes, waiting impatiently as her stomach began to growl; she hadn’t realized just how starved she was after her jog!  As soon as the sweet potatoes were in her hands, she returned, pleased to see that Togami hadn’t tried to escape in the meantime.  "Okay, here you go!“ she announced, handing him a foil-wrapped potato.  "Enjoy!”

He glared in disgust at the foil, charred and darkened from the grill.  "I’m meant to eat this?“

"No, that’s foil.”  She unraveled the foil on her own potato as way of demonstration.  "The food is inside of there.“

"I’m fully aware of the function of aluminum foil.”

“Good!  Now let’s eat!”  Unable to bear the grumbling of her stomach anymore, Asahina peeled aside the purple skin and bit eagerly into her sweet potato, relishing the way its sweet flesh seemed to melt on her tongue.  She hungrily took another bite, then another, then another…. Yeah, there was really nothing like eating a grilled sweet potato on a brisk autumn day!

She looked over at Togami, who seemed to have taken just a few tiny bites of his potato.  "Wew?“ she prodded.  "Whayyou fink?”

“I think you should swallow your food before talking like a dignified human being.”

“Ugh, you jerg!”  Asahina swallowed her mouthful of potato and tried again.  "So how does it taste?“

"I fail to see the allure.”

“Oh, come on!”

He gave a long-suffering sigh.  "I suppose it’s somewhat decent.“

"See?” she gloated.  "And this is just the tip of the iceberg!  There are soooo many good things to eat in autumn!  It’s definitely the season for eating!“

"I’m sorry to tell you that this isn’t exactly the most convincing argument for your position.”  Togami shifted the potato in his hand boredly.  "I require a more sophisticated dining experience, and this falls dreadfully short.“

"Yeah, well not all of us are made of money like you,” Asahina pouted.  "You can’t really expect me to do much better than food stalls, you know.“

"I suppose you’ll remain unable to convince me, then.”  He shrugged and handed his sweet potato back to Asahina.  "Now if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to be doing than stuffing my face with garbage.“

As she watched Togami walk back to campus, Asahina continued chewing her potato, thoroughly miffed.  If that stupid heir thought that was enough to make her give up, then he had another thing coming!  She’d just have to be a little smarter about her approach the next time.

But hey, at least she got two potatoes out of it.

Asahina spent the rest of the night brainstorming, and by the next day, she had come up with another idea to get Togami to see things her way.  

The only problem was that she couldn’t seem to find him.

He hadn’t shown up for class—though that wasn’t so uncommon.  Togami would often declare his own self-studies to be more beneficial than sitting through lectures tailored for the rest of his classmates.  Once class was dismissed, Asahina checked various locations inside the school before moving outside to search the benches around campus, to no avail.

It seemed like he was nowhere to be found… but Asahina wasn’t to be deterred.  He was just trying to hide from the inevitable!  And that was all the more reason to locate him!

Then she checked the library, and she felt a bit silly, because of course that would be where he was.

"Found you!” she exclaimed, jumping out at him from around a shelf.

“Do you mind?” he hissed under his breath, while trying to pretend that he hadn’t started in surprise—but he did; Asahina saw it with her own two eyes!  "This is a library.“

"Yeah, obviously.”

His glare hardened.  "So be quiet.“

Ohhh yeah… she was talking a bit loud.  "I was looking all over for you!” she continued in a whisper.  "You’re so afraid of being proven wrong that you felt the need to hide from me, huh?“

"If I had been trying to hide, I assure you I would have chosen a less obvious place,” Togami deadpanned, pulling a book from the shelf and inspecting it with muted interest.  "I’d hardly consider the library to be an unexpected place to find me.“

Asahina chose not to mention that she had actually checked the pool, the training room, the rec room, and a dozen other places more in line with her own interests before even thinking of the library.

"Well, whatever, at least I found you now!”  She grabbed on to the sleeve of his blazer and pulled, prompting him to roll his eyes and return the book to the shelf.  "Come on!  I found a place that will definitely change your mind about the true autumn pastime!“

"Let go,” Togami said, jerking his sleeve from her grasp.  "I have no obligation, nor desire, to accompany you.“

"Aha, I knew it!  You’re trying to run!”

“Why would I run from such an inane argument—”  He cut himself off, turning his focus somewhere over Asahina’s shoulder.  Curious, she turned and followed his gaze to see a figure idling around the corner of the far shelf, and she could just barely make out the hem of a skirt and a long, dark braid.

Togami pulled his mouth into a hard, thin line.  "I’m getting out of here,“ he said, turning and heading quickly but quietly towards the door.

"Oh, hey!”  Asahina jogged after him.  "Come with me then!  I found a coupon, so I’ll treat you to some pumpkin croquettes.“

Togami breathed a deep, agonizing sigh.  "Fine.  I don’t care.  Just as long as we’re out of here.”

Grinning, Asahina grabbed his arm again and all but dragged him down the flights of stairs, through the school gates, and into town.

Crisp, golden-brown panko bread crumbs coated the croquettes, almost seeming to glitter in the restaurant lighting.  Fresh out of the fryer, the hot oil still crackled slightly between the tiny nooks and crannies.  Asahina felt herself begin to salivate as soon as the server set the plate in front of them, and her fingers itched to grab her chopsticks and dig in immediately.  But no, it would be best to let Togami take the first taste—after all, Asahina wasn’t the one that needed convincing!

Unfortunately, Togami’s response wasn’t to start eating, but to glare down at the croquettes with open distaste.  "What are these?“ he demanded.

"Like I said, pumpkin croquettes!”  Asahina pointed at them with her chopsticks, eager to start eating.  "Go ahead!  They’re really good!“

Togami arched an eyebrow.  "Aren’t croquettes those fried amalgamations of whatever low-quality ingredients commoners can cobble together?  And you thought to feed them to me?”

Rude!  Rude rude rude!!  Asahina gripped her chopsticks tightly, trying to keep her cool.  "These are pumpkin croquettes, though,“ she explained through gritted teeth.  "They’re different.  They’re… they’re made of pumpkin.”

A pause.  "I see.“

Nailed it.

"W-well, come on,” Asahina said.  "Just try one.  They’re gonna get cold!“

"Help yourself,” Togami responded.  "I, however, will pass.“

"But I’m treating you!  This is my money going to waste here!”

“Exactly—I have no financial stake in the matter, so I lose nothing by refraining from consuming deep-fried garbage.”

The chopsticks were beginning to splinter in Asahina’s grip, so she instead channeled her frustration into grabbing a croquette and taking a big bite.  "Fine then!“ she countered after swallowing, not even taking the time to relish in the nutty, slightly sweet flavor of the pumpkin.  "I’m just gonna enjoy these by myself!”

Togami nodded decisively.  "Next time, you’d do well to choose a dish more suited to my palate.“

Asahina peered at him curiously as she chewed another croquette.  ”'Next time,’ huh?“

The heir said nothing and, save for a slight downturn of his lips, gave no indication that he felt he had slipped up.

"Well, okay,” she relented.  "Next time, I’ll choose something that even Mr. High-and-Mighty Togami will want to eat.  Except maybe he’ll have to chip in some cash, too, if he’s gonna be so picky about eating only the best of the best, yeah?“

He scoffed.  "You’ve chosen to take on this ridiculous challenge on your own dime.  I’m nothing but an unwilling participant.”

“I think you know by now that I hate to lose.”  Asahina grinned.  "If you’re so sure you’ll be so hard to break, the least you could do is make sure your dear classmate doesn’t drive herself to bankruptcy over it.“

Togami gave a huff of derisive laughter.  "Your negotiation methods are far from impressive, you realize.”

She shrugged.  "Yup, I’m fully aware that my brain’s just pure muscle at this point.  Can’t fault a girl for trying, though.“

They fell into a long silence, Asahina steadily making her way through the plate of croquettes as Togami watched, arms folded across his chest.

When there was just one croquette left on the plate, though, she was surprised to see Togami take up his own chopsticks and snatch the last piece, begrudgingly placing it in his mouth and slowly chewing, as if nothing could inconvenience him more.

In the end, he even paid half the tab.

Over the following weeks, somehow, they fell into a routine of sampling various seasonal cuisines every other day or so.  Asahina would scour food blogs and imageboard threads for the best places to go, then drag Togami to pig out on shinmai, or salt-grilled saury, or matsutake mushroom soup.  Or the limited edition chestnut doughnuts at Asahina’s favorite bakery—they made that trip several times.  He would complain about it at any given opportunity but, to his credit, he wordlessly took on the financial burden of their outings.

Asahina hadn’t given the arrangement much thought beyond "hanging out with Togami until he admits defeat,” because that’s really all it ever was.  Seriously.

That’s what she thought, at least, until she parted ways with Togami one day outside a sweets bar boasting a special autumn selection of apple, pear, and persimmon-flavored pastries.

“Aoi-chan!”

After waving off the heir, Asahina turned around to see she was being flagged down by some girls across the street—Yuka, Sana, and Kazumi, classmates from her old high school.  "Oh, hey!“ she greeted back cheerfully, dashing across the crosswalk as soon as the light turned.  "Long time no see, guys!  What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing really,” said Yuka absently, her gaze focused over Asahina’s shoulder for a moment before returning to the conversation.  "I mean, I’m sure nothing going on at Asunaro could compare to Hope’s Peak, you know?“

"Come on,” Asahina laughed.  "It’s not really that big of a deal…“

"Oh, let’s quit beating around the bush!” Kazumi cut in forcefully.  "Aoi-chan, was that your boyfriend just now?“

Asahina was genuinely puzzled.  "Boyfriend?  Who are you talk—”  She put the pieces together a bit too slowly than she should have, and burst out laughing.  "Him, my boyfriend?  Oh no way!  Togami’s such a jerk, not dateable at all!“

To her surprise, that sent the girls into even more of a titter.  "Togami?  You mean Byakuya Togami?”

“The Ultimate Affluent Progeny?  That’s him?!”

“Aoi-chan, you’re dating him?!  He must be such a gentleman, you’re so lucky…!”

“No, wait,” Asahina tried to quiet them down.  "I just said I’m not dating him, didn’t I?  As if I’d even want to!  He’s got the worst personality.  Definitely not a gentleman.“

"Really?”  Yuka leaned around Asahina’s shoulder again to catch a last glimpse of Togami’s retreating back.  "That’s a bummer.  He looked pretty hot to me.“

"Hot?”  Asahina’s scrunched her nose up.  "No way.  With his dumb blond hair and dumb blue eyes and dumb height…“  Wait, those were all considered attractive traits, weren’t they?  She felt her cheeks grow warm.  ”…Okay, maybe he’s a little cute,“ she conceded.

"See?” her friends chorused.

Sana poked her shoulder playfully.  "You’re spending time alone with such a cute guy, and you say you don’t even want it to be a date?“

"Really guys, it’s not like that,” she assured them.  "We’re just trying to settle an argument, so we’re going out and eating a bunch of food together.  There’s nothing date-y about it.“

Her friends were silent as they took in that information.

Finally, Kazumi broke the spell.  "Sounds like a date to me,” she said.

“It’s not!”  Asahina sighed.  "But anyway, forget about that!  I wanna hear what’s going on at Asunaro!“

The girls mercifully went along with the change in subject, and they spent a good fifteen minutes chatting as they walked before they finally had to part ways at the Hope Peak’s gates.

But left to her own thoughts again, Asahina felt her heart beating hard against her ribcage and a quick glance in the central fountain on campus confirmed that her face was growing awfully red.

Because now that she thought about it, her outings with Togami did pretty much fit the definition of a date.

On their next trip for lunch, Asahina was a nervous wreck.

But could anyone really blame her?!  She’d never been on a date before, so how was she supposed to know if that’s what it was or not?  If it was a date, how was she supposed to act?

Did she even want it to be date?  After all, Togami was… Togami.  He was a total jerk!  It wasn’t even any fun to hang out with him!

Well, okay, maybe it was kind of fun… but still.

She managed to fumble through lunch in a haze, and after stopping off at a coffeehouse for some warm drinks, they made their way back to campus for afternoon classes.

As they walked along the path lined with benches, Asahina was reminded of the first time she had forced Togami to partake in the tastes of autumn.  "Hey,” she said finally.  "Did I manage to convince you at all?“

Togami scoffed.  "About autumn being a season for exorbitant eating?  No, I can’t say I find the idea any more appealing now than I did before.”

“Yeah, I figured!” she laughed, then took a sip of her maple latte, pondering.  "But you haven’t tried to convince me that reading is the preferred autumn activity, either.“

"That’s because it makes no difference to me that you’re wrong.”

“Man, that’s harsh!”  Asahina finished off her latte before stopping in her tracks, right in front of a bench.  "But hey, I’m willing to give it a try.  Wanna read here for a bit?“

Togami turned towards her, raising a skeptical eyebrow.  "Read?  You?”

“I’m not illiterate, you know!”  She sat herself down on the bench with a huff, then held out a hand.  "So come on, gimme a book to read.  You keep going on about how it’s so much better than attending classes anyway, right?“

Rolling his eyes, Togami sat down beside her.  "Do you really expect that I’d be carrying around a selection of books?”

“Are you?”

Togami frowned, then opened his bookbag and dug around inside, quickly extracting a small paperback.  "This is probably the only one that comes close to your reading level.“

"Thanks!”  Finding herself to be strangely excited, Asahina accepted the book, cracked it open, and flipped to the first page.

She was immediately bored.

What in the world was Togami even reading?  All the words were so long… but she had resolved to try, so she powered on, even though she didn’t understand most of what was written on the page.  It was pretty nice to be sitting there in the open autumn air though—Togami was at least right about that—and with her belly full and her body warm from good food, she was quite content.  Even as the text seemed to swim in front of her eyes, she slowly made her way to the second page.

Asahina blinked, and suddenly the sunlight had turned from the bright gray of midday to a honey-gold glow.  Her hands that had been holding the book just moments before were empty, and Togami was gone from her side.

…Whoops.  She must have fallen asleep while trying to read.  And Togami had just up and left her there, the butt.

But at least she could say with certainty that reading was not the cornerstone of a Japanese autumn.

Sighing in irritation, she stood up to stretch her limbs, but the soft fwump of something hitting the ground caught her attention, and upon looking down at her feet, she saw a crumpled pile of brown fabric.

She picked it up and recognized it instantly as a Hope’s Peak Academy blazer.  Not only that, it smelled distinctly of Togami’s cologne—a scent that she hadn’t even known she’d be able to identify.

Asahina flushed.  Come to think of it, she didn’t feel as cold as she should have after being left asleep in the chilly November air…

Huh.  Well, maybe Togami was kind of a gentleman sometimes, after all.