#as always thank you for reading!

[solalunar-eclipse]

Strings Neither Green Nor Red

Chapter title: Pink Embroidery (Clickon K. Addison)

AO3 Link

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Spamton belongs to Toby Fox, all other characters belong to @brightgoat on Tumblr and Twitter.

Click sighed. Vid had left their apartment keycard in their house again, and yet again, it was up to him to bring it to their workplace.

This had been happening more and more recently, and he was getting sick of it. Not only did it put him out of his way, but it cut into his break time, which he needed to be savoring every second of just to hold himself together. 

Ever since the rift in their department opened up with Spamton’s disappearance (which had only grown as Vid and Mags became more at odds), Click had been spending as much time avoiding the others as possible. This pattern forced him to do everything but that, making his mouth twist in annoyance as he rounded the corner towards the shop.

Click threw open the door to Vid’s place (a little convenience store, this week), not bothering to grab it before it slammed into the doorstop. “Hey! I got your keys!” he shouted into the silent store.

No reply came, except for the very faint echo of his voice off the tiled floors.

That kind of silence was weird, even for a depressed Video. Warily, he wandered up and down the aisles, unable to even catch sight of anyone at the register. Could Vid have gone out? But then why was the door unlocked? The yellow Addi had lost their apartment card, not the keys to their store.

Click’s ponytail twitched at a quiet noise, and he combed it over his shoulder somewhat shamefully, hoping nobody had seen that. 

That was nothing, however, compared to how he reacted when the storeroom door swung open in his peripheral vision.

It was sheer luck that his tail didn’t drop more than anything, but it certainly came close, given that he’d screamed nearly loud and high enough to shatter glass. Instinctively, Click summoned an arrow, pointing it at the figure in the doorway.

“…AH, [$!&*].”

That voice…

The pink Addison’s magic fizzled out as a new kind of terror welled up in the pit of his stomach. “S…Spamton?”

“[[The one and only!]] WHO’S IT LOOK LIKE I AM, [the Fonz]?” he shot back, looking decidedly unimpressed.

Click nearly let out a half-hysterical giggle, but choked it back. “N-no…” he said weakly, unable to muster a better response.

He’d been planning for this moment for years. His apology speech had been perfect—just the right blend of sales pitch and argument, sure to convince Spamton of his guilt and his desire to make it up to him. Now, though, he couldn’t remember a word of it.

Vaguely, he wondered if this was what stage fright felt like.

“You’re alive.” he managed to say, and then immediately winced. Way to point out the obvious, Click.

“WELL, DUH.” Spamton gestured to himself, blatantly unimpressed. “YOU GOT ANY MORE [Logical Deductions] TO POINT OUT, [[Sherlock]]?”

“Listen—Spam—” Click began, but he was rapidly cut off.

“NO. THAT WAS A [Answer Not Provided] QUESTION.” Spamton snapped. “I DON’T WANT TO [Here] ANY MORE OF YOUR [[Rated PG-13 For Foul Language]].”

“But I’m sorry—” he tried again.

Spam laughed harshly. “YOU?! SORRY? HA! AT LEAST [[Video compilation]] WAS BELIEVABLE. HE MIGHT’VE LIKED ME, [Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away]. I WAS JUST Y0UR [[Sob story]] [Punching bag]. AND YOU EXP3CT ME<TO [[Return to sender]] BACK T0 TH4T?!”

Click felt like he’d just been hit in the chest. “Wh—I don’t—just let me explain…”

“EXPLAIN WHAT? HOW I’M A [[glitchy little freak]] WHO’S [[going to come running back to us the second you fail]]? NO W4Y. I’M NOT GONNA [Put Up Your Dukes] WITH A [Round 2] OF THAT!!”

The pink Addi felt sick to his stomach. Hearing Spamton spew out his own words as part of his glitching genuinely left him closer to making a mess of the store’s floor than any alcohol could ever have done. 

Clutching at his mouth, Click leaned heavily against the shelves, resting his other hand on his knees. All his words were stuck deep in his throat, choked by the impact of his disgusting old speech.

Spam rolled his eyes. “SAME OLD [Drama Queen]. THAT [[Sales Shtick]] AIN’T GONNA WORK ON ME, YOU B[but are you okay?]!”

Click dragged himself back upright, leaning on one of the shelves. “Not really…but I probably deserved that…and more. I mean, I’m guessing you haven’t been okay for a while…”

Spamton seemed a little startled by his last outburst, as though he hadn’t meant to say that. When Click spoke, however, he refocused on the conversation.

“I MEAN, UNLESS YOU COUNT LIVING IN [[the trash like a rat]] AND [Eating the scraps from the table] AS OKAY.” he said, giving the pink Addi an irritated look.

“Oh, god…” Click groaned, as the true force of exactly what his words at the Cyber Grill had done hit him for the first time. “Oh, god, what did I do? I mean, at least you’re not dead, r—no, never mind, that sounds so messed up.”

“YOU GOT THAT ONE [Right as rain].” Spamton muttered. 

“How am I supposed to fix that?” he asked (mostly to himself), feeling weak. “How the hell do I—make this all go back to normal?”

“YOU DON’T. [U] CAN’T. [Default settings] AREN’T EVER COMING BACK, [[Clickbait]].”

“But I have to!” he cried, his speech fully off the rails by this point. “I need to, it’s eating me alive! Don’t you understand?! I can’t live like this!”

“Maybe I can help with that!” a voice said from behind him. 

“Vid!” Click gasped, never more relieved to see the yellow Addi than now. “Wait, actually, hold on—do you know why Spam’s in your store??”

Video sighed, giving him a half smile. “We started talking a few weeks ago. Now I’m working on making things up to him. Slowly.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?! …never mind. That makes sense.” he sighed, still a little stung.

“But…how can you help?” Click asked, desperate.

“Okay, so listen, Click. This isn’t the kind of thing you can one-and-done. You’ve gotta prove, over and over again, that you’re not gonna treat him like you used to. Heck, he might never forgive you…I don’t even know if he’s fully forgiven me yet.” Vid said, surprisingly serious for once.

“That’s not helpful!” the pink Addi snapped.

Vid raised an eyebrow. “Aaand that’s the first thing you’ve gotta work on, right there.”

“What?” Click was bewildered.

“Your anger issues! Thing is, man…anyone who you don’t like, you yell at until you scare them the heck away.” Video explained. “‘S what ya did with Spam, right? Though for the life of me I can’t figure out what you hated about him so much.”

“I didn’t hate him.” Click scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I was just…annoyed.”

“Wow. How long’ve you been telling yourself that one?” Vid shot back. “You legit said the words ‘I hate Spamton’ out loud. More than once. And you insulted him, like, all the time! Since when have you ever not hated him? …no offense, Spam.”

“SOME TAKEN. FROM [[Cotton Candy Half Off]], NOT YOU.”

“W-wait, but that’s not what I meant—!” Click cried. “I…”

“YOU KNOW HE’S [Right on the money!], DONTCHA.” Spam sighed.

“But, it didn’t mean anything, did it? It was just…what we did! I mean, how else was I supposed to act when—”

Click cut himself off, unwilling to say the rest of the sentence out loud.

—when you were such a total failure?

“When what.” Spamton snarled, all glitching gone.

“No, it’s nothing! Really! I didn’t mean it!” Click yelped. “Dammit, I’m not messing this up again!”

“Aren’t you?” Vid asked, very little sympathy present.

The pink Addi turned several shades paler.

“Listen, man. I’m gonna give ya one last bit of free advice.” Video continued. “If you’d spent one damn minute actually hearing out Spam’s feelings way back when—geez, even just listening to one of his pitches—maybe you wouldn’t’ve made so much fun of him! Can you even imagine how hard it is to mess up sale after sale and then come home to your resident Pink making fun of you nonstop? And to put up with that for literal years? Don’t you get just how much that takes?”

Click felt a mounting realization building inside him. “Oh, god.”

“Yeah. Just, like, think for maybe five seconds about how the person on the other end feels, okay? Even if Spam never forgives you, at least you’ll know you won’t make the same mistake again.” Vid finished.

“DAMN, VID! WHEN DID YOU [Becomed] THE [[Mom Friend]]?” Spam called from behind Click.

Meanwhile, the pink Addi was having a crisis. “I thought you didn’t care! Are you saying I’ve been kicking you while you were down this whole time?” he asked, stunned.

“UH, YEAH??” Spamton said, like that should be obvious.

“…but, wait—does that mean I’m like the other Pinks?!” he cried.

“Did—did you think you weren’t?” Vid wheezed. “What planet have you been living on?”

“I thought I was better than them!” Click shrieked, defensive.

“TECHNICALLY, YOU’RE THE [#1] THOUGHTFUL [[Magenta]] IN OUR DISTRICT…BUT THAT’S A [How Low Can You Go?] BAR, PAL.” Spamton explained.

“So what you’re saying is, ‘better than Joyston’ is still pretty damn terrible.” Click muttered. “…actually, that sounds really obvious when I say it out loud.”

��[TBH], YOUR ONLY REDEEMING [[Quality Product]] IS THAT YOU’RE A TOTAL DORK AROUND POPPUPS.” Spam said.

Click opened his mouth, ready to snarl some insult right back. He could feel a million appear instantly in his head, ready to fire for maximum impact.

And then, he saw Spamton brace himself.

Instantly, he felt sick all over again. He really hadn’t changed, had he? Honestly, he deserved way worse than being made fun of for his love of poppups. Spam should be beating the life out of him right now, not patiently explaining where he’d gone wrong!

“I really am a terrible person.” he said instead, his shoulders slumping.

“I don’t know about terrible, but you’re…really good at hurting people.” Vid said, and Click winced. “But, that doesn’t mean you can’t change that! It’s pretty hard for Addis to change, but I sure have.”

“Yeah, you’re being weirdly rational right now.” Click said. “Why?”

Vid sighed. “Back before…everything, things never went wrong for me. Sure, I might’ve lost a sale here or there, but nothing, like, apocalyptic ever happened. But having your whole life turned upside down kinda changes your outlook…I still wanna live life to the fullest, but now I’m a lil’ more careful to keep an eye on how other people are feeling, too.”

“HEY, HANG ON, [[Video player]]! YOUR [life turned upside down] AND YOU DIDN’T EVEN GET TO GO TO [[Bel-Air]]? ROUGH.” Spam said, suddenly smirking.

“Wh—HA!” Video cackled. “Did I really say that?”

“YEP.”

Click’s first instinct was to roll his eyes again at such a (frankly) lame joke. But then, he noticed how Vid was genuinely laughing for the first time in years. And Spamton—Spamton was grinning. For real. 

Faintly, ever so faintly, Click felt his expression relax into the lightest of smiles. His shoulders dropped, and he leaned a little more into the shelf. 

“Guess that wasn’t half bad, Spam.” he hummed.

Both of the other people in the store did double takes. “SERIOUSLY?” Spamton asked, startled.

Vid just beamed.

Blushing, Click looked away, feeling tense again. “Hey, I have to start somewhere, right?!”

“YOU GUYS ARE [[Full of surprises]].” Spam said, smiling wryly.

“Having the element of surprise isn’t just for fighting tactics!” Video cheered.

Click smiled again, briefly. It was getting easier already, when he allowed himself to be infected by Vid’s energy instead of pushing it away.

“MY [20XX—20XX planner]’S GONNA BE FULL IF I START SPENDING [[Time is money!]] WITH BOTH OF YOU, YOU KNOW.” Spamton said, but not in a way that suggested this was necessarily an issue for him.

“Sounds like a good problem to me.” Click replied, after a moment of thought. It wasn’t too difficult for him to not be annoyed by Spam’s presence, given how long he’d been hoping for exactly this. Responding to him genuinely was still weird, though…it took actual effort for him to think of something that wasn’t a snappy retort.

“...OKAY, THIS IS ACTUALLY [[Stranger Than Fiction!]]. WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT DID YOU DO WITH [Clickbait]?” Spam asked, a faint smirk on his face.

“Is that your new nickname for me?” Click said, raising a brow. “I’ll have you know my businesses are all perfectly respectable!” He stuck his nose in the air, only a little bit serious. 

“SURE, SURE…WHATEVER YOU SAY.”

It took all of Click’s strength not to slice back at Spamton. Instead, he rolled his shoulders, sighed, and asked, “What are you going to do now?”

Spam’s look of surprise when the pink Addi spoke, however, made all his effort worth it.

Once he’d recovered, though, he asked, “WANNA GET SOME [[Sweet treats]]? I [Seeing Is Believing!] A COTTON CANDY STAND THIS MORNING!”

Click’s eyes lit up, and unbeknownst to him, his ponytail began to swish excitedly. “Really? Where?!”

“DOWN BY THE [[Carnival in town]]! …BUT YOU’RE PAYING.” Spam said, smirking.

The pink Addi winced, but even that wasn’t enough to deter him from the prospect of his favorite food. “I’ll take that deal.”

Spamton beamed from ear to ear, stunning Click into silence. “HEY HEY HEY, WHADDAYA KNOW! LOOKS LIKE I CAN STILL [[Salesman Never Sleeps]] AFTER ALL!”

Click groaned softly, but without malice. “Dammit, it’s not fair! You know my weak spot, don’t take advantage of me like this!”

“HAEHEAHAHA! A GUY’S [Gotta Do What He’s Gotta Do!]!!!” 

“Yeah, yeah. You coming or not?” the pink Addi asked, pushing himself off the shelf and heading for the door. 

“JUST TRY TO KEEP UP!” Spam exclaimed, already right beside him.

It was only once they’d left, the bell on the door long since finished ringing as it swung shut, that Vid remembered they hadn’t even gotten their apartment card back.

[beepboopappreciation]

Is this anything

[stil-lindigo]

lighthearted.

if this comic resonated with you, please consider donating to this palestinian escape fund (vetted by @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein) as it is less than $7,000 away from it's goal.

i turn 24 today. To celebrate, I made this comic to be a spiritual successor to lead balloon, a comic in which I talked about the darkest period of my life so far.

A lot has changed since my 23rd birthday and this one. My priorities have shifted a lot, in ways that I think are mostly good. But i think the best part about today is that suicide has gone back to being a far away notion. I'm really lucky, and I'm grateful for that.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[sixpennydame]

Hi Sailor 👋 How are doing?

I have caught up with North Star. I won’t deny the scene of Levi meeting Hange, it really brought tears in my eyes.

And, I really want to hug Catherine. She endured so much in her and like Levi, she believes she’s undeserving. I, myself can relate to her. Though, I didn’t face the same situation, I know how it feels like.

Until then, take care 👋

Hi San 👋 It’s so good to hear from you! The semester started today so it’s nice to have students back on campus. Hopefully I’ll find time to write. 😬

Ahhhh…this chapter was emotional for me to write too. Levi and Catherine, both dealing with their own pain - of surviving, of being left behind, of the reluctance to move forward. They both feel alone, but they’ll soon realize that’s not the case. 💕 As Shakespeare said, “The course of true love never did run smooth..”

Let’s see what this winter in Mursa has in store for them… 😉

[commsroom]

the u.s.s. horrible unending nightmare 💥 (once again from the incredible @hehearse)

[mimimar]

finally completed my comic based on the song ivy by taylor swift!✿ please zoom in to read the text and see the details~

✿.✿.✿

you can get the digital zine pdf here! it includes extras like character profiles, costume design, more art of willow and ivy, zine-exclusive sketches and an illustrated guide to the symbolism of all the flowers in this comic.

you can also get prints of individual pages here!

✿.✿.✿

[bixels]

Why the hell, shit, you damned bastard son of a bitch

[technically-human]

Comfort and safety and such things

This one was actually a commission! I had a lot of fun working with such a cute concept

[jonsawilldanceanon]

Lack of Morals ~ Lack of Vows

[kitsuneisi]

Despite literally ordering volume one (so excited btw- anytime i think about the fact i was lucky enough to order everything i literally buzz with excitment and flap my hands) I always forget that Double Hearted is like. A real thing. With multiple volumes. With multiple chapters in those volumes. Like this is Real. This right here? This is a whole complete comic SERIES.

Do you realize how cool that is? How amazing you and Maruu are? Do you understand that you guys have basically revolutionized the art community within the Hc/life series fandom? You guys didn't just create a silly little au with amazing writing and drawings, you guys created a real, tangible, thing that hasn't fully been done before. Comics? Sure. Merch? Sure. But ddvau is different, because its not only spiraled into something that is known by the majority of the fans here, but it's literally not even the whole au. Double Hearted is just a mini story, something happening in the background of your own original story.

And that? That amazes me. You and Maruu are so talented, and have created something that will probably go down in the metaphorical history books of the HermitCraft/Life Series fandom. You guys deserve so much love, because you have inspired hundreds of people, if not thousands, and that alone is something most artists only wish they could do.

BUBUBUUBUBUBUBUBUBUUUUBUBUB

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when Wilson says House's name

[tinartss]

you can hear it in the silence

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he still dreams of you and wishes for another chance to make you his, some lines are inspired by hakujitsu by king gnu

warnings: reader is rather lively/bubbly,

notes: TYSM FOR 100 !!!, a/n (yapping) in tags

wc: 1800

Hoshina Soushirou still dreamt of you. Every once in a while, you’d come to visit him in his sleep and it would make him believe that a miracle had occurred, that he had another chance. Every time, he would tell himself that he would never let this go, that he would give it his absolute all this time.

Yet, every time, he would wake up from this dream.

And every time, he would feel his heart drop at the realization of that. He was disappointed, and he knew, but there was no reason to be. It wasn't like anything had happened between the two of you. He liked to believe there was something going on— something more than mere acquaintances or friends, but he knew there wasn't. It must've been all in his head because the last time he had heard of you was before you were moved to the first division. He hadn't heard a single word from you since then, nor has he said anything— but that was just the way it was. There was nothing to do at this point anyway.

He wasn’t with you for all that long, and it was probably just the fact that both of you joined at the same time that naturally started the first conversation. He was far more weary of everything and far less cheerful at the time, and you didn't even work with him most of the time being a researcher, but you didn’t mind that one bit. If you had something you wanted to say, you would tell him and he’d just have to listen. At first, he had no idea why you kept talking to him when he paid hardly any mind, but after a while, he found comfort in your conversations. He had started to look forward to talking to you.

It had only been a few months before the defense force noticed how spectacular your work was and quickly called you over to the first division. There wasn’t a tearful farewell, or even a casual goodbye for that matter. You disappeared along with a cheerful ‘I’ll see you around!’ while you were moving your boxes out and he would hear those words ring in his head for the years to come— in your voice. Yet, at the time, all he could do was force a smile and nod.

It had been so many years since you had moved, he didn’t even know what you looked like now. Probably still stunning. Definitely still stunning. Although he had the chance to see the 1st division officers a lot, you were a researcher who worked behind the scenes. Naturally, there was no reason he'd bump into you, and he didn’t. He never did.

He loved to remember you, but he hated to think about you. He loved to remember the way you would laugh at his silly jokes, the way you would ramble on about the work you had to do daily but would still put in your all, and the way you would always visit him with some cold tea when he trained late into the night if you were still up as well. Actually, he hated thinking about the tea— it would make him start thinking about you. He would think about how you were now, if you were still pilled with work, and if you remembered him.

If he bumped into you, would you remember his name? Maybe if he cracked a lame joke. Maybe if he gave you a few days to think about it. Maybe if he started listing the things you talked about— his most treasured memories. Maybe then you’d say his name again.

See? This is why he hated thinking about you— he had things to be doing.

It wasn't like this happened everyday and it wasn't that big of a deal. It just ruined his day a little when it did happen. So if he had to say, he hated dreaming of you.

As you took over his thoughts again, the emergency alarm started to buzz, as if to tell him to snap out of it. He was thankful, he couldn't still be daydreaming like this.

A smaller-sized identified grade kaiju had appeared near the first division quarters, so the third division was doing more backup work this time. Hoshina was taking care of the smaller kaiju in the vicinity that had spawned from the presence of the honju. It felt nice for him to be doing work, it took his mind off his ramblings and cleared his head. He wasn't too worried about the honju, however. Although it was an identified grade, it wasn't anything they hadn't dealt with before and as much as he liked to tease Narumi about how he was always better at smaller kaiju neutralization, he knew Narumi was extraordinary at what he did.

At least that would have been true for any other kaiju of that size and strength, but Narumi seemed to be struggling far more than expected with this one. From his earpiece, he heard Okonogi notify him that the 1st division was asking to send Narumi some help if possible, and he immediately rushed over.

Yet, by the time he got there, Narumi had already neutralized the kaiju in question, although horribly beat up.

“I don't need your help, Hoshina!” Narumi still managed to yell while on the floor, absolutely bleeding out.

“Oh, shut up, do you want to die?” Hoshina asked. It didn't take an expert to see that Narumi’s condition was concerning.

Narumi soon fell quiet, probably unconscious, while Hoshina found his earpiece lying on the floor near him. He picked it up, hoping it'd connect to the first division just in case they had lost connection to his vitals.

“He's unconscious right now, but he seems to still be breathing. However, he's bleeding dangerously from multiple spots. I think a few ribs might also be broken,” Hoshina said. “There aren't any kaiju nearby at the moment and I'll take care of them if any do come— bring the stretcher right away.”

He waited a moment, but there was no response from the earpiece.

“Hello?” he asked, hoping for a response. After another moment, he heard it.

“Hoshina…?”

It was you. He would still recognize your voice from anywhere. Oh, how he missed you. His eyes were wide and he had nothing to say all of a sudden. You remembered him. You recognized his voice.

You remembered his name.

“Thank you for your report, we lost connection to some of his vitals halfway through. The medics should be there in a few minutes,” you said.

“I'll stand by,” Hoshina said and kept Narumi's earpiece in his ear. He had nothing he wanted to tell you, not one thing in mind, but he wanted to be on the line with you— even in silence. The medics came in a few minutes like you had told him and took care of Narumi right away.

“They got here, he should be fine now,” Hoshina said, as if you didn't already know. He just wanted something to say to you.

“I missed working with you,” you said and he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps he'd wake up from this dream again. Perhaps he'd open his eyes and be utterly disappointed again. But he knew there wasn't even a hint of romantic affection in your words, just the respect you've always had for the work he did, and how you missed doing this job with him. And he did too.

“Yeah, I did too,” he said. “I still do.”

You chuckled a little and he could still picture you smiling. “That made my entire year,” you said. “Probably not the time for this, but we should catch up sometime. If you don't mind, of course.”

Made your year. What did you mean by that? And If he didn't mind? Oh, you didn't know how many times he's dreamed of this day.

“I'd love to,” he said. While he was a little embarrassed to imagine the rest of the first-division team hearing this conversation, that was not going to stop him. He'd be an absolute fool to let this chance go. He has promised himself to give it his all this time.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked quietly.

“Sorry?” you asked, hoping he'd repeat that. You heard it, but you were afraid you were so delusional you were starting to hear things. Your heartbeat quickened and you waited patiently, hoping it wasn't all in your head.

“Do you have a lover?” he asked a little more clearly, but obviously still nervous and flustered. You had never seen him like this, ever.

“No,” you replied, a little too quickly. “I do not.”

Relief washed over him and he felt his heartbeat quicken. Oh, thank goodness you didn't have access to his vitals. He was going to make you fall for him somehow.

“…do you?” you asked quietly, after a moment.

“Me?” he asked. “No, I don't.”

“I see,” you said, but he could hear the soft delight in your voice. He would never miss it.

Perhaps he'd just go for it. There was nothing for him to lose at this point, and he had made his feelings plenty obvious already. If you didn't want him, he'd just try again. He's tried countless times in his dreams already, what's a few more?

“But I'd love to be yours,” he said and heard you gasp quietly. That one he couldn't read. Was that a little too bold? Far too sudden?

“Did I hear that right?” he faintly heard you scream, asking your fellow first division coworkers. That made him laugh, you hadn't changed one bit. “I’ve loved you forever, Hoshina.”

There was absolutely no way. He was going to wake up soon, he just knew it. Well, might as well indulge in the dream for now, then.

“I've definitely loved you for longer,” he said.

“Hoshina, I'm going to kill you if this is a dream,” you said, and that caught him off guard. Yet, even that sounded nice to him, and that made him smile. He'd get to see you, at least.

But it wasn't a dream. The way your voice fluttered his heart could never be felt through a dream. The way your laugh filled his soul could not possibly make him feel so warm through a mere dream.

“I cannot wait to see you,” you said softly, your voice so full of love it made him melt.

He couldn't either, but that wasn't exactly what he had on mind this entire time.

“And I cannot wait to kiss you.”

[stinglesswasp]

Fanart of all that's said in the low light by headlocket

This fic will make you cry the most cathartic tears ever. Be sure to also check out the epilogue, in lieu of the bells 🥹🧡🧡

[journey-to-the-attic]

uh oh