#but i do compare him to a cactus so that's probably not very nice

[exquisitexagony]

Pressing their lips together tightly, they grew quiet at her next words, finally seeming to release some frustration of her own. This is exactly what they were talking about. Nobody ever got close enough to get past that hard exterior, the prickles of a cactus far too much for most people to handle. Then again, she wasn’t most people. Were they really going to lose an opportunity like this to their own attitude?

“Trouble with that would be the embalming process,” he considered aloud. Maybe there wasn’t hope in this crazy concept after all… “Look, I’m not trying to be rude, all right?” He released a sigh, shoulders drooping. Honestly, he didn’t trust anyone. He had never met anyone who tried to help him purely for his own benefit, no hidden agenda. Since he didn’t really believe the good in himself, it was even harder to believe it existed in anyone else—let alone a vampire, which he had just found out even existed. 

“I don’t—“ Heart pounding, frustrated with xemselves now. “I’ve never… Told anyone about this before.” A slow shake of xyr head. Xe was going to regret this… “Not without eating them. And nobody’s ever..tried to help me, before. I’m not—“ Xe swallowed. “I’m not really a good person. People can sense that, I think, even the nice ones…” A shrug. “So..they stay away, unless I’m persuasive enough to convince them otherwise and then…” They gestured slightly to their empty plate. “Well, you know… And, yeah, you’re right. Compared to you, I’m probably very young, but I’ve lived long enough to know that eating people keeps me alive and sometimes that’s the opposite of what I want, but I do it anyway…”

Finally, he slumped back in his seat, arms folded over his chest. His gaze drifted back out the window, pausing. “I’m..sorry. OK? I don’t…want to be rude. That’s not—“ Another weighted sigh. “I- I- I have a hard time..talking about…it.” They tried to blink away the feeling of heat welling up in their face, the slight dampness in their eyes. “It took everything from me. Starting when I was just a kid and now— Well, now, I’m stuck like this unless I off myself and apparently I’m too much of a coward to even do that, so…” He sniffed, refusing to look at her now, blurry gaze pinned out the window. “So, yeah…Maybe I don’t deserve the benefit of the doubt. Sorry to disappoint.” 

"Because," she hisses back, letting some of her frustration out. "You're young and you're stupid, but you shouldn't starve for it. I didn't ask for the change either, and I didn't have anyone to help me, so I thought maybe you deserved some benefit of the doubt before you yelled at me so much I made you the next body I had to deal with."

The words are delivered with a derisive toss of her head. Honestly. This was the last time she entertained anyone younger than herself.

"I'd recommend a funeral home, if you can. Then you can putty any bites you take before the family see."

The comment is all but a dismissal, Bella apparently being done with this conversation now since he could only be polite when it seemed like there was something in it for him.

[sieben9]

“into the deep” impressions

SInce someone pointed out that it might help:

No spoilers in the reblogs past this point, please! If you want to discuss things I don’t know, please take it to another post.

And now, without further ado: the episode that killed me with family feelings.

Again.

Apparently, a family can also be a little boy, his mother, his other mother, his other mother's parents (who are almost the same age as her), and his weird uncle, who's not really related, but they hang out enough that nobody questions it anymore.

No, it doesn't get less confusing under the cut. Sorry.

So, first of all, I want to say: of all the terrible jokes I have made so far, the one I least expected to turn out prophetic was the goddamn zombie apocalypse!

And now I'll have Galavant tunes stuck in my head for a week. Thanks, show...

I really, really enjoyed this episode. Yes, I like the tragic drama, and the mystery, and definitely the romance, but what this show does really well and what I don't see that much in other genre shows are the family storylines. There was so much good stuff here! From Snow doing her best to keep Emma calm when she tried to blame herself for Henry falling under the Sleeping Curse, to Regina and David being Responsible Adults™ together, to keep their (grand)son out of danger... Look, it was really good, is what I'm getting at.

She's sleeping in a chair next to his bed to make sure he's alright; please send help the cute is hurting me

Apparently, communicating through the realm of damned souls or whatever that room is, isn't easy. Who'd have thought. I loved the parallels of people trying to dissuade both Henry and Aurora from going back under -- and how they both insisted that they would, because they were desperate to help. And weirdly, I also liked that David and Regina refused to let Henry go back after getting hurt. In the end, he is still a child and it's their job to watch out for him. Well done, them.

Mulan and Aurora are actually growing on me. I mean, I liked them well enough, but weirdly, Mulan's betrayal of Snow and Emma made her more likeable, somehow. I mean... she doesn't know these people from a hole in the ground, and even if Aurora may be determined to help, Mulan made a promise. Was it right what she did? Hell, no. Was it human, and did my heart go out to her? Yyyyep.

And Rumple and Belle went on that date! They actually had hamburgers and Rumple tried to flirt using a ketchup bottle, which is doubly hilarious when you remember that this guy apologised with a library.

Great and powerful Dork One (sic)

Also, Granny's comments made me giggle. That woman runs on at least 78% sarcasm and I wouldn't have it any other way. And then, of course, Regina had to storm in with a dire proclamation of doom. Seriously, your mother isn't going to suddenly teleport to the town square, couldn't this have waited another five minutes? (And, again, special mention goes to Granny for immediately wanting to clear out the diner to make room for the brewing villain-off.)

I kind of feel justified in my extreme reaction to Cora, now, because you know what? The lady who can make the two major big bads of the last season so worried that they actively work together despite their current feud deserves a bit of overreaction on my part. Low blow on using Belle as a motivator, though, Regina. Then again... she should know. It worked when she did it, didn't it? And I can absolutely see Cora do the same thing. I mean...

...seems on-brand.

Also regarding that picture: I did enjoy the Hook-Cora rivalry while it lasted, much for the same reason I cackled gleefully every time Gold and Regina went up against each other in s1. When a swarm of wasps attacks a cactus, you don't really care which one gets stung. Just bring some popcorn and you're set.

Special mention goes to Aurora, who kicked a dinner plate at Cora and made me laugh out loud with pure schadenfreude. Petty? Maybe, but Cora really, really deserved that one.

Gold's bedtime story was... chilling, honestly. I mean, it was perfectly clear that he knew something was up with the quill and let himself be locked up, but the casual -- no, soothing -- way in which he told it made me shiver a little. You can forget what a manipulative little shit he is when he's flirting with his tiny girlfriend by way of ketchup bottles. Then again, there was also the way he looked at Henry, which broke my heart a little, because it wasn't a very far leap to think that he may be remembering telling another little boy that age a bedtime story to get him to sleep. Just... yeah, give me a moment.

Yeah, he's miles and several centuries away

Not to forget the scene where Henry talked to Regina about using magic. Serious respect to the child actor, because you could see on his face that watching her do this "evil stuff" (i.e. the sleeping curse) worried him. It's easier to be OK with loving his mom/evil queen when she's not using any dark magic, but this must have brought all his doubts back, and... well, the entire scene was pure gold. Especially the way Regina tried to reassure Henry without getting too defensive, and the way she kept searching his face for ... well, I don't even know what she was looking for, but it hurt to watch in all the best ways.

And this is the best shot from that scene. Fight me.

And David is now stuck under a sleeping curse. Great. Really, a Sleeping Curse Deluxe, because he doesn't just get the black room of creepy voices, he gets the burning room of pain. Talk about putting a time bomb into the story. I'll admit, I was kind of neutral on the whole "when will they get home", because I just assumed they would at some point, so what's the rush. But now? Snow needs to please wake up her prince.

Just... let them be happy once, will you?

[belongsinthetrash]

Hot take: Kel is best represented by the Gladiolus, whereas Aubrey fits the Cactus more. Basil mixed them up.

UM? HELLO?? APRIL??? GIVING ME A ABSOLUTELY SPICY TAKE THAT I'M NOW OBSESSED WITH AND WANT TO ANALYZE SO MUCH, THANK YOU?!

Ahem, sorry for the capitals, I'm just loving this. I gonna look into this one more deeply now.

As a preface, I want to familiarize myself and everyone with what Dream Basil says regarding how the two plants represent and relate to Aubrey and Kel. According to him, the gladiolus "represents strength of character[;] someone who is honest, with strong moral values [and] someone who stands by their convictions." Meanwhile, the cactus is described as "very sturdy and resilient [...] by nature" and "don't need much care and can survive in seemingly impossible conditions." I'm not gonna question a kid that seems so well versed in his special interest, but I do want to compare and contrast both these descriptions with Kel and Aubrey, and see where that goes.

Aubrey does show off the qualities of the gladiolus in how she is strong in her beliefs of doing anything to keep Mari's name alive, with seeing herself on the moral high ground in her campaign against Basil. She's also brutally honest, pointing out any perceived misdeeds the gang have done to forget Mari. However, there is an arguement to be made on how Aubrey's morals slowly corrupted as she and the Hooligans continued to harass Basil for just being there, and how when confronted with her past friends, refuses to say that she missed them this whole time.

Kel is also reminiscent of his cacti counterpart, his sturdiness and resiliency being translated to how he's one of the most emotionally stable people in the group, and his low maintenance amd constant positiveness in spite of hard situations are also nice fits into the cactus' meaning. On the flipside, that same stableness can also be tied to the near breaking well of sadness that he probably has brewing underneath that is kept under watch for the purpose of keeping his friends happy (which doesn't exactly invalidate this point, but can weaken it in a sense), and despite how aloof his parents can be about him, it's still a fact that Kel is getting some bit of care from them and his brother is there to pick up their slack whenever it happens, and that's not even mentioning how he seems to be one of the most popular persons in Faraway Town, so Kel is living in pretty alright conditions, as far as the others are concerned.

With that, we've shown that there are a few things that interfere with the 1:1 meaning of the two's respective plant, and in their defense, arbitrary meanings given to stuff isn't always 100% right. Astrology and zodiacs, despite your feelings toward them, can only get so many things right or wrong as you see them fit. But I digress, let's look at Kel and Aubrey through their OPPOSITES, like what this ask was supposed to be about all along.

First off, Kel's character of cheering people up and being crude in the process sometimes has stayed with him through age and many a sad and scary situation. He wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to speaking his truths when he feels fit, and stands up to Aubrey and her gang every time it relates to helping Basil, showing his determined nature for his beliefs. Alternatively, Aubrey is a very strong willed person who keeps a tough persona nearly everytime we see her, and that comes from how she has survived dealing with a homelife that has been terrible for who knows how long and having no support system after an extremely upsetting event for (as I headcanon) 1-2 years before she met the hooligans, which has sufficiently settled both points, in my humble opinion.

So, I feel like I've established a good enough explanation for this and I honestly felt like I was convincing myself quite well throughout this. To be fair, I can't quite blame Basil for possibly mixing up the two plants, because if I haven't make a good enough case for the meanings, I think I've made a excellent case on how these two idiots are more alike than they'd want to admit.

[twisted-in-wonderland-jay]

Birthday from the boys (NRC)

Something to know for reading all of this is that I’m going to try my best to write platonic relationships that can be implied as romantic. Because some people may like a character but not feel romantic feelings towards them but still would like to know how they would act on their birthday.

Part two is the teachers and RSA

Riddle

He would prune the garden himself, regardless of the queen of hearts laws he would paint the roses your favorite color

He would lead you to the garden where the two of you would have tea and talk for hours

Eventually taking you around the garden

Ace

Out of all of these boys, he’s the one that’s most likely to forget your birthday

This man did not write it down

He overhears you talking with the other first years and them saying happy birthday. Then it finally clicks and he remembers that today is your birthday and he plays it off like he remembered

He’s not being mean in any way he just honestly doesn’t remember birthdays well

He talks with the first years while you’re not around and plans a little sleepover of sorts at your dorm

When you come back to your dorm for the night you find all of the first years there and they’re just kind of chilling in the lounge

They bring out a cake for you saying that they all baked and decorated it themselves but with the experience that the first years have it’s a strange-looking cake but it does it taste all that bad it’s just a lot of frosting and decorations because each one of them wanted to add a personal touch.

You guys have fun run around the dorm causing trouble

Then once it turns 12 you guys decide to settle down for the night and plot twist you don’t actually go to bed but instead play Mario kart till 3 AM

Deuce

He would try his hardest the whole day to make it the most perfect and kind of relaxing day ever. But utterly fail

In his eyes, he failed but it’s not that big of a deal

He’ll try to hold the door open for you or carry you around for fun and either, drop you, or trip

He feels really bad the whole day that he keeps messing everything up and it keeps getting less and less romantic

At the end of the day, you assure him that you had the best time and it was very fun. Which he doesn’t really believe because again he feels like he failed but he’s glad you had a good time.

He also stays the night hanging out with you until you fall asleep.

Trey

He would bake you a cake from scratch and decorated it with little flowers of your favorite color

He’s a really sweet guy so he would invite a couple of your close friends maybe three or four of them so that you’re not alone on your birthday and you also won’t have any leftover cake because you’ll eat it all.

A very nice and sweet get together messing around having fun

Cater

The morning would start very easy with the simple happy birthday and him taking you skateboarding you don’t have to go to a skating park or anything like that he’s just gonna teach you a couple of tricks.

But progressively throughout the day, it gets more centric and fun

At the end of the night can you both watch fireworks after you’ve just got done bungee jumping...

Leona

He’s not going to skip his morning to afternoon nap to tell you happy birthday even if he does care

A prince got to get his beauty sleep

When he wakes up he goes and attempts to find you and if he doesn’t he just goes man and gives up but if he does find you he tells you happy birthday and then walks off

Depending on your relationship with him he could be very distant and not caring but if you go and hang out with him during the afternoon when he’s not sleeping he’s pretty chill about it not really caring that you’re there if you have a negative disposition towards him he might care and tell you to leave.

Ruggie

He would take you shopping for the day

You might think he doesn’t have any money but those are jobs that he’s been working aren’t for nothing

He took all of the money he could for an entire month of work and saved it up spending it on your birthday

“What?! this is only part of my savings, not my entire Life funds” hehe...

Jack

Since magic mirrors make travel very easy he decides to take you back to his hometown

Not to meet his parents or anything but just to hang out because he talks about home a lot and wants to take you. What better time than your birthday

He takes you around his town and tells you about all of these places that he has memories that as well as putting you in the general direction of where he lives

He takes you to do all the fun things you can think of where he lives

When you both go back tonight NRC he quickly takes you by his dorm so he can grab something

He comes back with his gift to you which is a little cactus for you to take care of.

Azul

He wouldn’t have a birthday party for you

He would however have you meet him in the lounge

you two would have dinner together

Just the two of you...

you’ll take a walk through dorms halls just to talk in this moment you share alone

Jade

He would hang out with you if you wanted him to if you didn’t want him to he would tell you to go hang out with your friends since it is your special day

He would give you some sort of terrarium or if you’re not into those he would give you a rare plant for you to take care of as a gift

If you did want to hang out with him and you didn’t care where you went he’d invite you to a botanical garden for the day.

Whether you like it or not he’ll probably talk on and on about each plant and its properties in medicine and poison

Floyd

He would throw a great surprise birthday party for you

He’s got all of your favorite foods your favorite drink an awesome cake

And somehow he surprisingly kept this under wraps until the time of your birthday party

It would be in you’re dorm, and don’t worry afterward he would help you clean up the mess

When you walk in the door he has everyone holding confetti launchers... which he 100% is going to help you clean up after a lot of convincing

Kalim

This man knows how to throw parties and that’s terrifying

He would throw a massive party for you

He’s inviting all of NRC as long as they’re friends with you. Hell if you had friends in RSA he would invite them too.

He would have one of your other friends distract you for the day because it’s going to take the entire day to set up this banquet

He’s got everything a giant cake, fancy lights, a lounge area, a DJ, a chocolate fountain anything and everything that you would need for a successful party

Throughout the day if you try to go see him at all somebody’s always there to stop you and to distract you

You guys party for the whole night

Jamil

He would not throw a birthday party for you

As we all know he’s not really a people person

Chill about it passes you in the hall and says happy birthday

He offers to make you dinner but if you want to you can always decline

Although there is one thing you can’t decline and that’s the magic carpet ride he wants to take you on

He wouldn’t ask to borrow the magic carpet he’d just do it

Vil

He would throw a big banquet for you regardless of what you want

He’ll probably say something along the lines of “Fufufu do you think I have the time to do all this? someone else said it was a good idea and they did all the work it’s not as if I care or have time to.” But we all know he cares

He about all of Pomefiore if you have to invite any of your friends outside of the dorm he would be a little irritated and save fine I guess you can about your “other friends”

Epel

It would be the beginning of the day and he’s down the hall in spots you. He would immediately not yell your name but scream it and run to you yelling happy birthday. It would make quite the scene but he wants everyone to know that it’s your birthday and also Vil would probably hate the fact that he just screamed.

He asks you if you’re ready to “rock and roll” (for anyone who doesn’t know this is just a saying to ask if you’re “ready to go”)

He’s taking you on a trip to go do a bunch of fun stuff in town and to probably prank some people because why not.

Rook

Wouldn’t throw you a party instead he would probably stop by your dorm and announce his presence and sing you happy birthday.

Bring you some sort of small gift

He would tell you that he will follow you the whole day and you can do whatever you want with him

Rook is rather chill compared to some of the other boys. However, if you want him to he can take over because he’s kept note of what you like to do so he would take you to do things that you like.

Idia

He wouldn’t do anything special for your birthday

In fact, he’d probably have Ortho buy three slices of cake only, for the three of you

Throughout the day he doesn’t say anything about it

When you go to his dorm later he tells you happy birthday you guys eat the cake together

He kind of half-heartedly apologizes for not being able to throw a proper birthday party for you and that he’s sorry but his anxiety kind of got the best of him.

To make up for it he offers to play games with him until you want to leave

Before you leave he gives you a flower. An Asphodel The primary symbolic meaning of the Asphodel flower is peace after death and the afterlife, but this is not the meaning that is implied it is a white flower which generally symbolizes purity also it’s a symbolic flower of Hades

Ortho

He throws a big party at your dorm (if your dorm is Ignihyde he’d take it somewhere else), not ignihyde. Because the students are quite antisocial and it would be very disruptive.

He would invite all of your best friends

It is the cutest surprise birthday party ever

There would be fireworks, trick candles, and so many fun childish games that you would play at a party

Malleus

Malleus is somewhere in between depending on what you want so no this won’t be a surprise birthday

He’ll either throw a big party for you in the diasomnia dorm inviting basically everyone from all the dorms as long as they know you

Or if you’re more on the reserve side or you want a smaller party he’ll have a couple of your close friends join him and going to your dorm and having a get-together little party for you.

If you want to though he is 100% okay with just you and him hanging out for the day

Sebek

This man is crazy

He wrote down your birthday and planned weeks in advance

He would write down everything that you like in hopes that when it becomes your birthday he has everything that you could ever want on that day

He tries his best to bake a cake but then realizes that he’s actually really good at it

On the day of you’d think that he be really loud and excitable and overbearing but in fact, he is the complete opposite being very considerate and not quiet but an inside voice because he doesn’t want to stress you out or seem disingenuous.

He doesn’t host a party for all of your friends it’s just you and him. The reason for this and putting in so much effort just for you and him is because he’s rather shy when it comes to not just romantic feelings but platonic feelings as well not showing people how he really feels especially when it’s around other people as well. So it’s kind of to make himself feel more comfortable as well

Silver

Silver isn’t the party kind of person so he’ll probably get you a cute little gift like a bouquet of roses specifically white roses to symbolize purity or maybe a charm bracelet.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to throw you a birthday party it’s just that he doesn’t know how to go about it since the only parties ever really celebrated is his own because of Lilia when he was younger.

If you say something about not having a party or a cake he’ll get a little sad thinking that he might have failed you.

He’ll probably just follow you around doing whatever you wanted for the day as long as you didn’t have class.

He would also have a cute little lunch with you of food that he made before. You guys would probably go sit in the courtyard and eat next to a tree. Be careful though he may or may not fall asleep...

You might have to wake you’re sleeping, Prince

Lilia

He’ll invite you to a concert and then right as the performance is about to start he’ll say something like he has to use the restroom or he’s going to get a drink and he’ll be right back he promises.

As the performance is starting and the lights turn off you start to worry that he’s going to miss it

And then as the stage lights turn on and you see him on stage getting ready to perform

He’s going to perform an entire album that he and the light music club came up with for you as a birthday gift

Knowing him at the end of the performance he’s probably going to get off the stage to go and kiss you (Not necessarily on the lips if it’s a platonic relationship it’s probably on the forehead with the cheek as a sign of affection no love).

[makoodlesarchive]

in bloom 🌼 || bnharem server collab

hellooo everyone!! this is my piece for the bnharem sfw collab. The theme this time was ‘flowers’! i had the absolute pleasure of writing for my baby kiri! this collab was actually super fun to write for, i had a blast 🌸🌸🌸

please go and check out all of the fantastic works on the masterlist here!

kirishima x reader

word count: 4.9k

｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆ ｡ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

Your apartment in Musutafu is small and cramped, with thin walls and very little natural light. The rent is extortionate for what it is, even considering the location in the city centre, and at least once a month there’s a complex wide electrical blackout. You can overlook all of the faults of the apartment though, because it’s in a safe neighbourhood close to a hero agency and, most importantly, it’s got a balcony.

Like the rest of the apartment, the balcony is small, but you’ve got enough room to cram a little outdoor bench into the corner. The rest of the space is filled with planters full of flowers and leafy pants, transforming the cramped little space into your own tiny garden. As the weeks begin to melt into summer, your little garden transforms into a wildy colourful and delightfully fragranced haven for butterflies and honeybees. You love to curl up on your little bench with a book, relishing the warmth of the sun on your face and the musical buzzing of the bees flitting about your Lantana flowers. Your apartment’s location on the ground floor means that you don’t get a whole load of privacy, but it doesn’t stop you from spending as much time as possible on the balcony beneath your hanging ivy planters.

Another bonus to the ground floor balcony is the cute redhead that wanders past every day at 2pm and then again at around 9pm. You’re not entirely sure when exactly you first noticed the man, but since you’ve moved in he’s become a permanent fixture in your daily routine. In the afternoons when you take a break from working from home and sprawl out amongst the leafy greenery of the balcony, you always catch a glimpse of him. You guess he must work in one of the offices nearby, and judging by the hastily buttoned jacket and wrinkled sweatpants he changes before going on his lunch break.

Every day he walks by, and every day you see him craning his neck to catch a glimpse of your balcony. It’s not uncommon for people to stare, considering your balcony is basically a green splash amongst the dull grey drabness of your apartment building, but unlike all the other curious passers-by, whenever this guy makes eye contact with you when you’re sitting out he’ll make sure to grin widely and wave at you. It’s sweet. You know next to nothing about the guy, other than that he always seems to be in a hurry and he has a smile so bright and toothy it could probably be seen from space, but those little interactions always put you in a good mood for hours afterwards.

After countless days of waves and smiles from a distance, you look up one day to find him grinning and waving yet again, but this time with a new addition. In his hand is a little potted cactus, which he holds up in the air so you can see. 

“It’s for my office!” he yells to you. There’s a shrubbery area right outside your balcony that acts as both decoration and security to prevent anyone from just strolling up and hopping over the railing, but the guy is still standing as close as he can get on the sidewalk.

Your grin spreads slowly as you get up off your little bench and lean over the balcony railing to get a closer look at his little potted plant. “It’s cute!” you call back to him.

He beams, impossibly pleased with himself. “It’s not as impressive as yours!” he gestures at the foliage flowing over the railings and the hanging baskets.

“Everyone has to start somewhere!”

He laughs at that, his nose scrunching up just a little, and then waves at you again before setting off down the street. You watch him go until he disappears from sight, then return to your bench to continue reading. You’re so distracted by that whole little episode that it takes a few minutes for you to realise that your book is upside down.

It was such a short exchange, but after nothing but smiles and waves from afar for so long it leaves you a little dazed. You could kick yourself for not asking what his name was, but you just hadn’t had the time. Besides, you had been a little dazzled by his smile.

The man’s name is Kirishima Eijirou. Since the first day he spoke to you, you’ve bumped into him at the local supermarket several times. He’s friendly, sometimes overwhelmingly so, and really kind. He’s the perfect package wrapped up in the body of a professional cage fighter, so it’s probably inevitable that you develop a big fat crush on him. The two of you have only really exchanged basic pleasantries and small talk, but it’s enough to have your pulse skipping everytime he smiles at you.

The local flower shop is beautifully vibrant compared to the gunmetal grey skies outside, and the quiet warmth of the place makes it one of your favourite places to spend your days off. Hanging baskets full of seasonal flowers and trailing ivy are suspended from the ceiling and from high shelves, and leafy green plants create a jungle-like atmosphere within the shop. The effect is delightfully mismatched, with enormous bouquets of flowers brightening up the spaces along the walls. The high shelves and boundless foliage makes the whole place feel like a maze; you could happily lose yourself for hours upon hours within the humid little aisles.

You trace your fingers along the large waxy leaves of a monstera plant, enjoying the smooth texture. A bell tinkles overhead as the door to the shop opens and shuts, momentarily breaking the soothing blanket of quiet. You contemplate the price tag on the monstera plant; you already have one, and if you buy another you’ll be pretty hard pressed to find space for it. It is really cute though, and you’re pretty sure that if you move your ficus a little more into the left corner of your balcony you can make enough space for it.

Your thought process is broken by a noise from the top of the aisle, and you glance up to meet the gaze of a surprised yet familiar man.. “Oh! Kirishima-san.” you say at the same time as he blurts “Hi!”

Before you can say anything else, his face splits into a smile. “Aw man, I can’t believe you’re here! This is perfect!”

You laugh a little nervously. “Huh?”

“I was hoping to get a new plant for my office! Could you help me pick one out?”

“Oh.” you blink, a little overwhelmed by his exuberance and the way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, “I don’t work here.”

He laughs like you’ve just told a really funny joke, and moves to meet you in the middle of the aisle. “Yeah, I know. I’m just guessing that you know your stuff about plants -- your balcony is so awesome.”

“Oh.” you say again, straightening a little despite yourself. You feel ridiculously pleased, probably more than such a simple comment warrants. “Thank you. I worked hard on it.”

“It really shows!” he enthuses. “It actually inspired me to spruce up my office a bit, actually!”

“Really?” you ask, leaning back against one of the shelves. A frond-like leaf tickles the back of your neck, but you don’t bother swatting it away. You think that the two of you might be the only two customers in the shop at this time, and your conversation seems so loud in the relative silence. Somewhere near the back an electric fan buzzes, the noise breaking up the monotonous quiet so it doesn’t seem quite so oppressive. 

“Yeah! So, will you give me a hand?” he tilts his head as he asks, and you realise that his shoulders have dropped down, as if he’s trying to make himself appear smaller. “My friend thinks it’s stupid, but I’m determined to have the nicest desk in the whole building!”

You smile despite yourself, his good humour infectious. “Yeah, okay. Are you looking for something in particular?”

Kirishima steps back and regards the surrounding display cases thoughtfully. “Um. Honestly, I don’t know much about plants. I have my little cactus, but it’d be nice to get it a friend, right? I’m happy to go with whatever you think is best!”

You hum, considering your options. If it’s a small office desk he’s hoping to decorate, you suppose a couple of small succulents could do a nice job of adding a bit of life and colour. “I’m sure we can find something.”

“I’ll leave myself in your capable hands, then.” Kirishima says with a grin, inclining his head a little.

You step further into the shop, ducking under a trailing strand of ivy leaves. The dark hardwood floor creaks as you move, with Kirishima following close behind you. When you pause to gaze at a couple of potted plants on one the shelves you keep your gaze cast down, but glance up through your eyelashes to look at Kirishima. You’re surprised to find him already watching you, like he’s drinking in every move you make. The attention is a little overwhelming, but it’s also exciting. His gaze on you is like a physical weight, and you can’t quite help the coy smile that curves over your face. You know you’re not imagining the soft, heated interest behind his eyes; he’s not exactly being subtle.

You duck into a parallel aisle, just fast enough that Kirishima stumbles for half a step at the sudden change in direction. You hum quietly to yourself, and toss a playful smile over your shoulder as he follows behind you. He meets your smile with another grin, bright and handsome. He doesn’t look away from you for a second.

You come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the aisle and turn to face him. The sudden movement takes him by surprise, but he manages to catch himself before he barrels into you. It’s probably not entirely intentional, but he ends up standing so close that you can almost count the delicate little freckles splashed across the bridge of his nose from the summer sun. His head dips down towards you, leaning into your space in a way that is decidedly more than just casually friendly. His lips part, but before he can speak you ask, “What about this one?”

His gaze drops down to the space between you, where you’re holding up a small plant with waxy little leaves. He blinks at it, and then recovers gracefully. “Hey, that one is pretty cute.”

“‘Pretty cute’s not quite good enough, though, is it?” You pretend to ponder, tapping your chin. “If you want the nicest desk in the whole building, you need better than ‘pretty cute’, right?”

If anything, Kirishima’s smile grows even wider. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You up for the challenge of finding me the best plant in the store?” He steps closer as he speaks, until there’s nothing but a scant few inches and the potted plant between you.

You make a show of considering the challenge, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “Hold this for me?” you ask suddenly, practically shoving the plant into his hands.

Kirishima takes it, startled, and in the moment of distraction you turn on your heel and dart down the aisle, disappearing down another row of shelves. You’ve barely turned the corner when you hear a deep, rumbling chuckle followed by quick footsteps against the hardwood floor as he follows after you.

It’s like a game. You wind your way through the aisles, skipping over vines and stray pots, and Kirishima tries to catch up. You know this shop like the back of your hand (you’re in here nearly every single weekend), but Kirishima is fast and agile despite his large stature. There are a few close calls, where you just manage to round the corner of a new aisle before Kirishima can reach you, and each one makes your breath catch in your chest when Kirishima’s delighted laughter rings out through the shop.

You can’t help the grin that stretches across your face as you turn into another half-hidden aisle, ducking under a large fan-like leaf that stretched out and drooped low. Only a moment later you hear a soft slap and an “Oof!” as Kirishima presumably runs straight into it, and you laugh quietly to yourself as you slip in between a row of glass display cases.

A clatter and a soft curse sounds from one aisle over, and you guess that Kirishima just accidentally knocked a pot over. You pad softly to the end of the aisle, taking a moment to try and catch your breath and stifle your wild grin. It’s so childish, playing a game of chase in a garden shop with a man you barely know, but you’re having so much fun.

You poke your head cautiously around the edge of one of the display shelves, biting your lip and listening carefully for any sign of Kirishima. The only noise you can hear is the strained mechanical whirring of the fan from somewhere near the back of the shop, so you edge forward. You’ve only managed to take two steps before you feel a presence behind you.

“Gotcha.” Kirishima rumbles, right by your ear.

The noise that’s punched out of your chest is embarrassing, a weird cross between a yelp and a laugh. You whirl on the ball of your feet to face him, only for him to keep stepping closer. You have no choice but to retreat, until you’re backed up into a little alcove between two large glass display cases overflowing with luscious green ferns. Kirishima advances until he’s as close as he can be without actually touching you, and maybe you should feel a little intimidated by this man that’s built like a brick wall of pure muscle but his smile is so delighted and soft that you don’t think you could be afraid of him if you tried.

“You got me.” You agree, a little breathlessly. You don’t know if it’s from the exertion of running through the shop like a child or from the thrill of Kirishima’s closeness to you, but your heart is thrumming like a wild thing in your chest.

From this close, you can see the way Kirishima’s hair is sweat-damp on his brow and curling just slightly; it must be from the humidity inside the shop, because he doesn’t seem even the slightest bit affected by the physical activity of chasing after you. “You’re fast.” he says, his voice quiet as if afraid to break the atmospheric stillness within the shop.

“Yeah?” you mimic his volume subconsciously, “You sure you don’t just like chasing me? I think you could have caught me earlier, if you wanted.”

Kirishima laughs, and the skin around his eyes crinkle up in the most adorable way you’ve ever seen. “Maybe.” he says, and it sounds like a secret. His teeth are white and sharp and his cheeks dimple when he smiles. You’re distracted by the dimples, so when he raises his hand you barely notice until suddenly there’s a flower right under your nose and your eyes nearly cross in your attempt to look at it. 

“It’s pretty.” You say with a smile. It’s a simple white cosmo flower, though Kirishima is beaming as though he’d managed to find a particularly rare gem, and you don’t get a chance to take it from him before he tucks it neatly behind your ear.

“It’s like you.” He says. The words are flirtatious, but he delivers them so earnestly that you don’t quite know how to react.

“How about a potted ivy?” you blurt, at a loss for anything else to say. “It would be easy to take care of, and it looks good.”

Kirishima blinks, but takes the change of subject in stride. “Is that your professional recommendation?”

“Mhmm.” It’s hard to focus when he’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting across your skin every time he speaks. You’re sure he must be picking up on how flustered he’s making you -- you’re not convinced by the innocent expression on his face. “Maybe a few succulents, too.”

Kirishima nods thoughtfully, consideringly. “Hmmm. That sounds good to me. Will you go out to dinner with me?”

It’s such a non-sequitur that it takes your brain a long moment to register his words. “I- huh?” 

His dimpled smile turns bashful and a little self-conscious. “Ah. Sorry, that might have been a little forward.” He scratches the back of his head, and your gaze is drawn to the way his bicep bulges at the movement. “I was wondering if you’d like to get some dinner with me? I know a place that does some really great burrito bowls.”

“Are you asking me on a date, Kirishima-san?” Your words come out soft and quiet and effortlessly flirtatious -- you hadn’t intended on sounding so seductive, but you can’t help but enjoy the way Kirishima leans in closer to you.

“Yeah. No pressure if you don’t wanna, of course!” He’s quick to reassure you, “It’s totally fine if you’re not interested. I just wanted to let you know that I am very interested.”

As refreshing as his straight-forwardness is, you can’t help but feel surprised. This man is very much out of your league, you’re not blind, and yet he had been the one to approach you, and had indulged in your silly game of chase around the shop, and had playfully cornered you in an alcove and asked you out. You’ve met him enough by now to know he’s kind, friendly, and eager to help with just about anything you ask. Plus, he’s practically built like a Greek god, with a handsome face and the most stacked muscles you’ve ever seen in person.

“I’m interested.” you breathe, heart hammering in your chest. God, you really hoped this wasn’t some kind of elaborate joke. 

Kirishima seems to actually inflate at that, a bright smile blooming across his face as his shoulders straighten. “Really? Great! Awesome! Tonight?”

“Sure.” you agree, returning his smile. Your heart rate still hasn’t returned to normal from your chase around the shop; if anything, it feels like it’s pounding harder than ever. “I’m free tonight.”

“Great!” Kirishima says again. He seems more excited than you would have expected, which is honestly pretty flattering since you’re pretty sure you’re the one that should be feeling the most excited in this situation. “I have to go back to work since I’m technically on my lunch break right now, but I could pick you up at your apartment at around eight tonight?”

“Eight is perfect.” you straighten the flower behind your ear and smile up at him, letting your own excitement shine through on your face.

Kirishima steps back, finally giving you some space. You forcefully resist the urge to follow after him, watching instead as he backs away, still beaming. “Okay. Okay, cool. So, I’ll see you tonight?”

You let him go a few more steps before tilting your head and asking, “So, you changed your mind about the plants?”

He pauses, one foot raised mid-step like a cartoon character. “Plan-?” he starts, before his eyes go comically wide, “Oh! The plants! Right!”

You laugh, finding him stupidly endearing, before stepping out of the little alcove and setting off down one of the aisles to the left. There’s a whole section of the shop dedicated solely to the house plants, and it’s not difficult to find a suitable ivy plant with light green leaves and tumbling vines. Kirishima takes the potted plant when you hand it to him, and trails after you again as you go in search of the succulents. When you’ve found some suitable little plants, you help him carry them up to the counter with the cash register. There’s no one manning the register (and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief at that, because it means that no one saw the two of you running through the shop like idiots), and you ring the little bell to notify the employees that you’re at the counter. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” you say, stepping away from the counter as an employee finally emerges from the back of the shop. “See you tonight?”

Kirishima fumbles with the plants in his hands as he tries to wave. “Tonight! Yeah!”

The bell tinkles as you duck out the shop door, biting your lip to try and stifle your excited grin.

//

You look in the mirror yet again, tugging nervously at your clothes. You look pretty good, you think, but the closer it gets to eight the more nervous you get. You realised too late that you never exchanged phone numbers, and Kirishima doesn’t know which number apartment to buzz from the front door. You focus on staying calm and not overthinking things; it’s just a date, with the most handsome man you’ve ever actually spoken to. No big deal. It’s fine.

You tug on your shirt again, even though it’s sitting pretty much perfectly. You just lean forward to check your teeth when a crash sounds from your balcony. You jerk towards the crash automatically, and race out to open the doors to the balcony. You’re greeted with the sight of Kirishima with one leg over the balcony railing, staring dismally down at the shattered pot that he apparently just knocked over.

“I’m so sorry!” he blurts as soon as he sees you, “It was an accident! I didn’t know your apartment number to buzz the door and so I thought I’d just knock on the door to your balcony but I didn’t see the pot and- wow, you look really good!”

You wave away his frantic apologies with a laugh as you step over the spilled dirt. “Don’t worry about it. You look pretty good, too.” Your eyes drop to where he’s hiding his hands behind his back. “What have you got there?”

Kirishima hikes his other leg over the railing and drops to his feet, before pulling his arms out from behind him and revealing a large bouquet of beautiful white and pink lilies. “I got these for you.” he says, a pink blush dusted over his cheekbones. “I know you, uh, like flowers and plants and things. I don’t know much about them, but I thought they were pretty!”

Your whole face softens, and you reach out to take the bouquet. They are pretty, with delicate pink-streaked white petals and long, dainty stems. Pollen drops from them at every movement, sprinkling into the air in delicate yellow puffs. “They’re beautiful! Thank you.”

When you glance up at him you find that his attention is caught by the side of your head, his own smile softening. “You kept it?”

You touch the cosmo flower still tucked behind your ear, a little embarrassed. It had seemed like a cute idea to keep it and wear it for the date, but now you wonder if it’s a little weird. “Yeah. Like you said, it’s pretty, right?”

“Yeah.” he agrees. His gentle pink blush has intensified into a deep red. “Very pretty.”

You look back down at your lilies, still smiling. You feel so pleased, like all your nerves are being melted away only to be replaced by excited anticipation. “Your office must be really close by if you had the time to grab these before getting here.”

“It’s right around the corner,” he points towards the end of the street, “But, uh. My boss actually let me go early today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I, uh-” His blush, impossibly, seems to intensify further. “I’ve been talking about you for a while, I guess. Telling people about your awesome balcony and stuff, and how nice you are whenever I meet you. I didn’t actually realise how much I mentioned you, but, uh, when I told Fat that I had asked you out, he pretty much told me to get outta there and come straight to get you.” 

You laugh, pleasantly embarrassed yourself. “Wow. That’s… that’s really sweet.” A thought intrudes on the back of your mind, suddenly, and you frown a little. He said his boss's name was Fat? Office around the corner? “Wait. You work at Fat Gum’s Hero Agency?”

“Yep!” He flexes one of his biceps playfully; you’re pretty sure it’s bigger than your head. “I’m a sidekick there! ”

“Wow.” you say, gaze stuck on his muscled arm. “That- well. That explains- I mean, you have a very nice body.” Oh god, you think, cursing yourself. Why had you said that?

Kirishima flushes from the roots of his hair to his chest. You can’t help but grin, his bashfulness impossibly charming. “Oh! Thanks! I work out a lot.” he chuckles, shrugging as if it’s nothing.

You’re still grinning as you look at his rosy face, your eyes dropping to his red-flushed chest. His very red-flushed chest. “Uh.” you glance to his neck, where the skin is an angry crimson colour. “Kirishima-san?”

“Yeah?” The sun is dropping low in the sky, and the golden sunset throws buttery yellow-toned light all over your balcony. It lights up Kirishima’s profile in warm relief, and makes you wonder if you’re maybe imagining the colour you’re seeing.

“Are you okay? You have- I think you have a rash?”

“Huh?” He drops his chin to his sternum, trying to get a look at what you’re seeing. When he tugs his shirt down, it reveals angry red lines streaking down his chest. “Oh. Yikes.”

Your mouth drops open. “That.. looks painful.”

“It’s more itchy, really.” He admits, poking at the patch of ruddy skin. His head snaps up, eyes wide, and he quickly adds, “This doesn’t usually happen! I don’t usually have, uh, whatever this is!”

That definitely isn’t as comforting as he’s clearly hoping it will be. “Um. Kirishima, do you feel weird right now?”

“A little? I think I’m just nervous for our date, though.” He shifts on his feet and reaches up to scratch at his throat. “Just a little itchy. My throat feels a bit weird. I think it’s nerves.”

The angry red rash climbing up his chest and throat suggests that it’s not just nerves. “Does your throat feel… swollen?”

“Kinda?” 

Your gaze drops to the flowers in your arms. The breeze shakes loose another little cloud of pollen from them, which floats into the air in a little puff of yellow dust. “Did this start after you got the flowers?”

“I guess!” Kirishima says, clearly not following.

“Oh.” You stare at each other. Kirishima still hasn’t quite caught on to the logical conclusion of these questions. Now that you’re looking at him closely, you’re pretty sure his face looks a little puffier than usual. “I think you’re having an allergic reaction.”

Kirishima blinks, then looks to the flowers in your arms. His hand scratches idly at the base of his throat, which is now a raw and angry red. “Oh. Oh, I see. Huh.” You might be imagining it, but his voice sounds a little thicker now.

“I think we should go to the hospital.” You set down the lilies on your garden bench and usher him into your apartment. You haven’t had time to tidy up, but you’re past the point of caring about cleanliness. Kirishima doesn’t seem to notice anyway, as his face has fallen.

“What about dinner?” He asks, obviously disappointed, and yep, his voice has definitely gotten thicker. It sounds like his throat is swelling.

You try not to panic. “We can get food after the hospital!”

Kirishima actually has the nerve to pause and think about it. “Are you sure? I don’t feel that bad, and I really want to take you somewhere nice.”

It’s hard not to feel flattered at that. “I really appreciate that, Kirishima. I would feel a lot better if we got you checked out before dinner, though. I think the date would go better if you weren’t on the brink of anaphylactic shock.”

Kirishima concedes at that, and lets you call a taxi. As you stand on the sidewalk waiting for the taxi to arrive, he sighs and tilts his head. “This is embarrassing. I can’t believe I finally ask you out only for it to be ruined by some stupid flowers.”

“Hey,” you bump him with your hip, but it’s like hip-checking a boulder. You wince and rub at your hip bone as you say, “The flowers were beautiful, and a really lovely thought. Plus, I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while now. One little bump in the road isn’t gonna chase me away, okay?”

“Really?”

You tug him over so you can press a chaste, tentative kiss to his cheek. “Really.”

“I’m gonna make sure when this is over that I bring you on the most unforgettable date ever!” In the light of the setting sun, Kirishima is lit up golden. He grins, gilded and bright, and even with his puffy face and swollen throat, you think he might just be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

“I think that you’ve already accomplished that.” you say delicately as you spot your taxi rounding the corner of the street, “Maybe our next date should be a little more uneventful.”

“Yeah,” Kirishima laughs, sounding like his throat is full of cotton balls, “Maybe uneventful is best. But you basically just agreed to go on another date with me, right?”

You suppose you have to be impressed by his determination, if nothing else. You’re not used to being the focus of someone’s attention like this, especially not someone on the brink of a medical emergency. It’s… flattering. “Yeah, I guess I did. Maybe next time we should leave the flowers, though.”

“No flowers.” Kirishima agrees, then chuckles. 

You think his swollen, puffy smile might just be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

[willosword]

i’ve played about 6 hours of omori so far and i’ve really enjoyed it, so im gonna slap down some thoughts for future me to look back on!!!

first of all i looove the soundtrack, especially the sad, synth-y, dreamlike bits. the part where basil talks about all the flowers at the beginning of the game is still stuck in my head because of the score. 

the main characters are a little bit tame so far, but i think that’s kind of the point? it seems like the dream world is meant to be a very og earthbound experience where every member of the party is just really nice and your bond with them grows stronger and stronger without any major hiccups. it’s supposed to be simple and cheesy because it’s the comfort world.

and the contrast is what makes arguably my favorite part of this game so punchy- the real world sections. i’m only on my second visit to the real world, but it just fills me with so much wonder?? when i saw kel’s new sprite box pop up and it revealed he had brown hair i actually gasped. such a simple thing to draw that reaction from me. adjusting from the dream world to the real world is also pretty amazing. my favorite moment so far was when i got into a fight with aubrey and attacked her only to realize “OH GOD yeah i just pulled out a knife on this actual real-life teenager ghHKJHJK maybe let’s not do that again”

i also appreciate that the real world isn’t all dark and gloomy even though the squad’s friendship is on the rocks. in fact i’d say the real world is more colorful and saturated than the dream world, which is quite interesting. so far i like the horror and real world sections much more than the earthbound sections, but you need the earthbound sections to balance the horror and real world so it works out in the end.

im pretty proud of how fast i’ve picked up the battle system. so far i’ve never died, beaten all the bosses on the first try, and only felt the need to use a healing item once or twice. im not sure if that’s a testament to how easy the game is or how much better i’ve gotten at rpgs gHKJHLKJH. i did take notes on all the follow-ups at the beginning, so it’s probably just cause i studied. my typical play is making the enemy happy with aubrey and making the team sad with omori + kel (though one of kel’s follow-ups has switched from causing sadness to causing happiness so i might need to change my strategy). that way the team takes a lot less damage and i get more money and items at the end of the fight. 

one last quick note- im just throwin stuff at the wall here, but i think the flower talk at the beginning of the game maybe provides context for the characters’ personalities in the real world? (tho i haven’t found hero in the real world yet so im interested to see what he’s like). for example, basil talking about how mari always helps him stay positive vs how he seems much more anxious and downtrodden in the real world where mari is probably dead. comparing kel to a cactus because he’s resilient and can survive in seemingly impossible conditions vs kel being the only one who was able maintain his happy-go-lucky personality in the real world. etc etc (on that note kel is probably my favorite character so far, his earnestness and sincere desire to reconnect has rlly won me over)

but yeah!! that’s most of my thoughts so far. i’m probably only like... 1/4th of the way through the game? maybe? if it keeps fleshing out the characters and has a nice, tie-it-all-together type conclusion this could definitely be an unforgettable one

[vcsecretgifts]

Snap shot in time

From: @auburnandamberangel

Merry Christmas @plopofcolour Qotd era Khayman and Armand interaction on the Night Island. Hope you like ^u^

~~~

Armand watched Khayman looking at his upper terrace garden, the plants benefiting not only from the sunshine but also the seaspray. The cacti, the large Saguaros with their armed tall appearance especially had captured the ancients fascination. The silhouettes classic to many a western. They weren’t indigenous to Egypt, effectively a new world plant, and certainly capturing this until recently slumbering vampire. Perhaps as they too were long lived, slow in maturing. He had his cameras slung over his neck and shoulder wanting to capture the bloom on one of them, a first. He recorded all of them on this island. Mementos.

Khayman was a very good guest, polite, and surprisingly unaloof compared to other vampires of a similar age. ‘Mr manners leaves their bodies after the first few thousand years!’ Daniel had observed dryly not to long ago as they say in said same garden, watching the waves. Sitting on the stone steps, snuggly between Daniels stretched out legs. Barely dead himself, so manys ways appeared rude by his modern standards. “Not all are…impolite.” Daniel had nodded, smiling almost as if he’d read his mind and knew he was thinking of the Egyptian. Which was impossible, he just people watched very well. And surely he was an expert in Armand observations by now.

“Ahh but Khayman was nice as a human, not many airs on him plus he’s sweet on you. So you’re the last person he’d be short with.” Interestingly not too much jealousy in that statement. A small possessive kiss to the top of his head, caressing of his arms about his waist. Their guests came and went, things were more peaceful minus some of their vampire brethren. Peaceful between them even. Born in a time of crisis, his home even invaded it wasn’t ideal for them even with a notorious nosey parker like his fledgling. He’d borne so much strain at his hands before being turned, it worried Armand. Sometimes they fought as he instinctually pulled back.

“The fact he’s easy on the eye doesn’t hurt much either does it.” Daniel added laughter in his voice. Teasing. Armand smiled despite himself turning his head. “But I’m famous for a penchant for blondes darling aren’t I.”

“Except Louis.” His beloved kissing his dimples. And others he’d best not mention. Not eager to quote that book at him right now.

“Hmmmm. Nice to not always be predictable then.” Kissing Daniels matching smile. It had ended up being a very good evening that night. Allowing himself to bask in the glow of the memory of it.

Khayman found the sea soothing, the air fresh and the garden a magical oasis. A small movement betrayed his hosts presence, rare to not have an exuberant Daniel or hesitant brooding Marius in orbiting attendance around Armand. Moths to this ’cherubs’ - seraphin now surely more apts flame- A ethereal beauty no matter the flowery language. In his time one destined to be blessed by the gods. A soul just as full of substance as his appearance. To think without her, the mother waking he’d probably not have crossed paths with this one. So artful at cloaking his presence. Deep in thought he was looking at him, but not really seeing him. Caught in a recollection. Unguarded he looked so young, in the eyes the depth and knowledge in them gave his age away. This was the way with their kind. Trapped in their making, the soul grew seen through the orbs alone. Somehow still warmth there, if the mood was right. A miracle considering the heartache had been through in so far centuries. He would do much to make sure he didn’t make those eyes cold. Watching this former coven master navigate so many vampires in his sanctuary, first love mingling with last. Struck by the poise. The former parents guardian, the Roman made said face light up and close down in equal measure. Not his place to intervene ofcourse, though tempting. Best to announce his presence, so Armand didn’t feel too exposed.

“Armand, good evening. Was there something I can aid you with?” Smooth heavily accented voice totally interrupting his reverie. “Did you want private time in your garden?” Previously observed vampire catching him unawares, hoping he hadn’t left himself open to scrutiny thoughts wise. His mind usually locked up tight, some of the first brood lacked finesse with the mind gift, it coming to them later. But what they lacked in finesse, could be made up by brute force alone. Being Marius’ blood line vicariously provided some civility that otherwise may not exist, for a not even five hundred year old former cult coven leader. Ageism was alive and well in their surviving group from Akashas cull. As if age always came with wisdom… Khayman had been gentle and respectful in his manner towards him. Armand appreciated this from his most recent friend. He saw him as he was, no judgement.

“No not at all. I take pleasure in seeing enjoyment from my garden. The cacti have you in their thrall I see.” Genuine smile to the ancient. Moving closer. The garden lit by coloured uplights here and there to make it appealing.

“They are exotic to my old eyes, yes. Beautiful yet dangerous. So like us I feel.” Small smile back. “Your a gracious host, I know it’s not in most of your nature’s to live on mass for long. You’ve been patient where you could have been firm. Silent when you could have spoken.” Khaymans turn to watch and enjoy the view that had nothing to do with the garden, but more it’s creator.

“Ah well, tact or diplomacy is something I’ve always had to have. Never to speak unless it improves the silence or my position in it.” Being quite open now in this admission. Unusually candid for himself truly. He didn’t think he’d regret it in this situation.

“The lone jackel is a hard role to break, though it’s served you well.” The ancient replied. Looking back at the cacti. “How old is this one then?”

“This one is around seventy years. It’s the first year it’s flowered, you’re lucky to have witnessed it.” Itching to take a picture of the flower, and perhaps Khayman too if he was truthful with himself. Just incase his stay was brief and centuries passed until another meeting of minds. “But they can live to around one hundred and seventy five perhaps even two hundred years. Not bad for a desert dweller.”

Khayman eyed the camera, that was the term wasn’t it. One of the magical picture capturers. “You’ll record it with this?” He hadn’t tried anything new in a while. Armand was patient, the best person to ask to try. “How?” He uttered before he had time to edit.

Inquisitive and open to instruction, not your average elder. Refreshing like the sea breeze. “I need a tripod, unless you can hold it steady as a rock. I’ll do both.” Zipping inside and then back out to get it. “I’ll need a long exposure to make the most of the moon light, and a flash for my close ups. The window inside opens for the picked time, the light hits the film and makes an imprint like an eye I suppose but in reverse, or inverse a negative. We can use the darkroom next.” Twinkle in his eye as he saw the ancients eyes widen. “The Polaroid develops as you shake it.” It must sound odd to the others ears.

“Witchcraft then. I’m an apprentice to a modern sorcerer.” Pleased by the laugh this comment brought from Armand.

“Usually I’m called bewitching. But I’ve been accused of worse.” Daniels words echoing in his head, pleased he didn’t blush as easily as said youngblood.

Gingerly taking the camera and going still, statue like as he could. A trick you learnt which came easily with age. Though it usually unnerved younger immortals. *Direct me as if I’m a tripod.* He said is the mind voice. Armands softer hands aiming the slr camera for a closeup. Physical contact was a luxury being a nomad rarely afforded.

Hearing the snap of the inner workings, turning of the spool. With each shot, the flash singing. Armand liked this process, methodical, practised yet still room for error and surprise. *Move back a little so I can get a portrait of it. Perhaps one of and for you to take with you?* Because people leave - eventually. This was always a possibility. Sentiment came with a cost, this he always knew.

A photo to keep. An anchor would be good for times Khayman felt unsteady. Stronger by the year, but wispy in his soul sometimes. A welcome light in the Night Island Villa, to concentrate on. *Yes. A portrait of plant, myself and it’s guardian even better.*

Warm glance, nodding his answer. “This also has a cable to take a photograph at a distance. A bellow balloon, a tube and a metal press.” Screwing it into the button. Then retrieving it from the taller elder. Fixing this on the tripod via it’s own foot. Let’s set ourselves up. Standing and leaning into the framing arms of the cactus, as if the plant was behind them, reaching to hold them close.

Khayman followed the younger ones lead. Moving in closer and realising he could smell Armands hair. Wondering if this was his shampoo or just his natural scent. Vampires sometimes exuded a odour that was unique to them, a spice in the blood perhaps. Marius had made him, imbued with donations by Akasha during his guardianship. Perhaps he had smelt like this in Venice as a mortal. Not something he could easily ask the child of two millennia. Nor share a want to share his blood to strengthen those below a thousand in their coven, truthfully only this one piqued his interest.

Armand had the cord behind his back to depress at just the right moment. Khaymans strong heartrate was hard to ignore so close. “Ready. One two three.” Not using cheese, referring to a dairy product as slang for smiling usually put older vampires in a spin. So a countdown better. Not flinching at the flash or the next long exposure. “Always take more than one for practicality.” Moving to replace the lens cap and concentrate on the Polaroid camera in front of him now. “Arguably this one is like magic.” He stated with a smile. “As Daniel can attest I took so many in our early years here.” Boxes and boxes of them, indulgent expression on his face. He was rich, but some things were priceless that had little monetary value in his collection. “Strike your next pose. Make yourself comfortable.”

Khayman liked Daniel. He was full of life, and hoped that energy didn’t turn downwards into madness. Knowing Armand was concerned with this too, any elder making a first fledgling would be - especially one as fond of forward planning as his host. Smiling nervous about doing something wrong. Hoping irrationally it wasn’t magic, as magic never bode well. Flash and snap. Painless. Wondering what the twins back in Sonomo thought of this new family, Mekare learning after her travelling the wilderness. Focus on Jesse, their link to Miriam.

Armand handed the Polaroid by its framed white bottom edge to the elder. “Now shake it, and you’ll slowly appear.” Charmed by Khaymans expression, bouyed one so old could still feel the wonder of the new. Despite intermittent sleeps. Hope for all of them surely. Watching Khayman watching the photograph as it developed. “What do you think?”

Bit by bit the image appeared - the dark background shading in firstly, the bright green cacti appearing next with its vibrant blooms. Then the paled by time figure, a smile all for the taker. Now one such photo of Armand with or without himself would be wondrous. “A fine picture.” So excited he placed kisses on Armands cheeks stopping before he daren’t put any on those rosy lips. Moving faster than he usually did, enveloping the younger vampire in a hug would perhaps be too much of a liberty. They had time. “One of us next, yes?”

Armand didn’t have time to start at the sudden movement of the ancient. Stealing himself to be squeezed, fortunate it didn’t come to pass. Khayman smelt inviting though, heady blood from their fount. Marius would be jealous no doubt. But he wasn’t here was he. Attending to Pandora, a promise of a return soon. As ever time would tell. Trying not to stare at Khaymans lips. “Yes. An instant portrait next.” Glad of someone who gave as much as he took.

[vampire-named-gampire]

Carry On Countdown - Day 22

Wow, watch me use the @carryon-countdown to plug my skating fic lmao

I don’t know if this counts, since Angelina is an OC and actually, Baz would totally make friends with/practically adopt a 17yo Russian girl, so I don’t know how unlikely it is, but it’s here. And also, I just really want to share more of On thin ice content, but the fic itself isn’t ready to be published yet so have this instead. 

For context, Baz used to train in Russia aged 16-20, and now both him and Simon train in Montreal (no, idk why I chose Montreal out of all places but that’s how it is.) Also I think Gelya is the Russian diminutive/nickname used for the name Angelina, but I’m not sure. The fic is still in the works, so this scene is bound to change/expand (I did omit it a bit when writing because spoilers) but anyway, I’ll stop rambling now. 

Prompt: Unlikely friends Word count: 1950 Rating: This scene is G, although the whole fic will be T or M 

SIMON

The ride from the airport to the hotel is awful. Baz must’ve suspected this, because he made me sit in the front.

“Go on,” he said teasingly. “The only skater who has motion sickness.”

I have to say, sitting in the front almost didn’t make a difference. I may not know how to drive, but even I know you’re not supposed to drive like that. When the cab drops us off in front of the hotel, I don’t even bother hiding my relief. Baz laughs.

“I never want to experience this again,” I say, knowing full well that this is my life for the next week. The hotel might be close to the venue, but it’s still far enough for it to be a driving distance. I can only hope buses are less deadly than cabs.

“You know, Moscow traffic is actually tame compared to the rest of Russia,” Baz smirks, handing me my bags.

“Well then I never want to see the rest of Russia,” I mutter, slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder and stepping through the automated hotel doors. Baz scoffs and follows me.

This hotel is fancy – much fancier than the hotels we usually stay at. Baz doesn’t seem phased by it at all, the posh bastard. I bet the hotels he stays at when he’s on vacation are at least twice as posh.

He does, however, seem phased when someone yells “Basil!” across the lobby. Before either of us can register what’s going on, a small figure in a red jacket runs towards us at full speed and crashes into Baz, making him emit a surprised oof sound.

The moment I realize the figure is actually Angelina Nuriyeva is the moment she starts speaking in fast Russian. I don’t understand a thing, but Baz seems to, because he laughs and hugs her back.

I knew Baz and Angelina were friends, but I didn’t think they were this close. I mean, they’re the exact polar opposites; Angelina is an actual sunshine (she’s always hugging and smiling at everyone) and Baz is… Baz. (He’s a big softie, I know that, but he goes through great efforts to appear cold and closed off.)

But here he is, ruffling Angelina’s hair and telling her something in Russian. (I’m suddenly met with the realisation that being in Moscow means I’ll get to hear a lot more of Baz’s Russian. I am very much not complaining at this prospect, even if I don’t understand a thing of what they’re saying.)

Angelina is nodding along and she pulls out her phone to show him something, but that’s when Baz stops her, suddenly speaking in English.

“Wait, I think in the interest of Snow, we should switch to English. He already looks lost enough as it is,” he says.

“No, no, I’m fine, by all means…” I start, but I’m soon cut off by Angelina.

“Yes, of course! I’m sorry, Simon! Come here, it’s so good to see you,” she says and hugs me. (This is what I mean when I say Angelina is a sunshine.)

“Good to see you too,” I nod.

“I was just about to show Basil how his houseplants are doing. Do you want to see too?” she asks.

“Houseplants?” I don’t bother hiding the surprise in my voice. Since when does Baz like houseplants? His flat in Montreal doesn’t have any, spare the tiny cactus on the windowsill.

“I had a lot of houseplants when I still lived here, but I couldn’t take them with me on the plane when I moved, so Gelya took them in her care,” he explains, as if he’s reading my mind.

“Georgy is doing amazing but Ilya went a bit floppy. I changed his earth so now I’m hoping he gets better,” Angelina says, showing Baz a picture of two houseplants, side by side, one of them (Ilya?) looking slightly wilted.

“When it goes floppy, we say it wilts, and we don’t say earth, we say soil,” Baz corrects her. If I was Angelina, I’d probably be annoyed right now, but she just smiles at him.

“Thank you. It’s so much harder to learn English now that there’s no one here to practice with me,” she sighs.

“You know you can call me any time and we can practice,” Baz offers.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I stop them both. There is so much new information I have to process. “You had houseplants? And you named them Russian names? And you taught her English?” (That would actually explain why Angelina’s English is so good.)

“Yes, Snow, are you keeping up?”

“And when he gave them up, he wrote me a whole notebook on how to take care of them,” Angelina chimes in. “And another notebook with English grammar.”

Maybe I do have trouble keeping up. Who is this Baz? (And why is he so attractive?)

“I never thought of you as a houseplant kind of bloke,” I shrug. “You don’t have any houseplants in Montreal.”

“I’m still mourning the loss of my old children.” Baz deadpans before turning back to Angelina. “Show me Alyosha. He was always my favourite.”

-

BAZ

Unsurprisingly, the jet-lag catches up with me right when it’s time to go to bed. I don’t know why I was naïve enough to believe I won’t need melatonin when dealing with an eight-hour time difference. I better take it now, before it’s too late.

I sigh and throw the covers back before picking up my phone to check the time. However, a text message notification from Snow grabs my attention before I can do that.

Is he nervous again? It would make sense, since this is a big competition for him. Would I be able to sneak into his room and sneak out the next morning unnoticed? I doubt that. There are only athletes staying on our floor, the coaches, press and competition staff are all on different floors, and I doubt the athletes would pay us much attention, but it’s still risky.

I’d much rather risk a few weird looks than have Simon spiral into panic two days before a major competition, though. I decide I’ll go to his room if that’s what he needs.

Maybe I should check why he’s even texting me before I devise any plans.

SS: do u have melatonine? SS: jet lag

I sigh in relief. He’s not having a mental breakdown. He’s just jet-lagged. (Which is a bit strange for Snow, but I suppose even his circadian rhythm can take a blow from time to time.)

BP: It’s spelled melatonin and yes, I have it. You can come get it if you still need it BP: Room 254

SS: yes ik where u r SS: I’ll b right over

I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for Snow to knock on my door. He’s staying a few corridors down, in room 273, so it takes him a few minutes. I jump up when I hear his knock.

He’s standing in front of my door, wearing joggers, a hoodie and those damned glasses of his again. His hair is messed up, like he’s been tossing and turning too.

“I thought you didn’t get jet-lagged,” I say, stepping aside to let him in. He settles on the edge my bed while I rummage my luggage for melatonin supplements.

“I don’t get sleep jet-lagged, but I do get food jet-lagged,” he says.

“What does that even mean, Snow?”

“It means it’s lunchtime in Canada right now and I’m so hungry I can’t sleep.”

I bite back a laugh. He’s an idiot. (An adorable one but an idiot nonetheless.) “You don’t need melatonin, Snow, you need this,” I say, throwing a granola bar at him. He startles, but manages to catch it.

“You’re just giving this to me?” he asks, audibly surprised. (Which is ridiculous. He gives me food all the time and here he is, questioning my generosity over a fucking granola bar.)

“No, Snow, pay up. Fifty rubbles.”

“I don’t have any Russian money,” he laughs, tearing the wrapping open. He’s going to get crumbs all over my bed, but I don’t shoo him away. Instead, I finally find the melatonin supplements and take one with some water. “Do you still want one?” I ask.

“Do you have any more granola bars?”

I laugh and pass him another one before sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Are you nervous?” I ask, just to make sure he’s really okay.

“Right now? I’m just hungry,” he says, tearing open the second granola bar.

“Right,” I nod.

“Baz. Are you doing that thing where you’re worrying about me again?”

“A bit,” I admit.

“Stop,” he says like I can just turn it off like a tap. (I wish I could.) We sit in silence for a while, me thinking about how much easier my life would be if I just stopped worrying about Simon Snow and him chewing through his granola bar. “I didn’t know you and Angelina were such good friends,” he finally says.

“We trained together for four years,” I shrug, but it’s not just that. The training environment in Russia was intense. It’s a bloodbath to even get on the national team there, so of course it’s intense, but I think every other skater the rink was looking at me sideways because I was an outlier. I wasn’t Russian, I didn’t speak Russian and I think they felt like I didn’t belong there. (I know now that I really didn’t.) They eventually accepted me and by the time I left Russia, even the ones who refused to speak during my first year there were sad to see me go.

But Gelya was nice to me from the start. She was only thirteen at the time and didn’t speak any English, but she clapped for me when I did something well and cheered me on when I was having a bad day. (Thanks to her, davai was one of the first Russian words I learned.) She brought me homemade pyraniki on special occasions and when I got injured and had to go back to England to have surgery, she sent me get well soon cards all the way from Russia and she made the entire rink sign them.

That’s just who she is. She’s this nice to everyone and it didn’t matter to her if I was Russian or English, I was just another person at her rink who she could bring biscuits to. Over the four years that I’ve lived there, she became like a little sister to me.

“Baz?” Snow’s voice snaps me from my thoughts. “You seem tired. I’m going to go.”

I have half a mind not to ask him to stay here. (We both know we can’t do that.) “Okay,” I say instead. He stands up and throws the granola wrappers in the bin. I stand up too, to walk him to the door (I have manners), but he waves at me to sit back down.

“It’s fine,” he says.

“Will you be able to sleep?”

“If my hunger doesn’t get to me again, yes,” he laughs. He’s already by the door.

“Wait.” I stand up and grab the last granola bar from my bag, offering it to him. “Just in case,” I explain. I want him to stay here, to make sure he sleeps well and doesn’t spend the night worrying about the competition, but I can’t do that, so this is the least I can do.

“Thanks,” he smiles, tucking it in his pocket. Then he hugs me briefly and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

And he’s out the door.

[believerindaydreams]

Part 2 of the Point Outlook rewrite for @mitsybubbles

I can't get River to sound at all right to me so I might stop here but hey here's some hurt and comfort

For a moment, warmth and the sound of old music almost convinces Arcade that he's back in the Mojave.

Then he blinks and there's a howling ocean wind blowing outside, and the music is too smooth to be the result of scratchy radio static- a jukebox of all things, playing Daydream Believer. His savior is whistling along to it, hands busy with some piece of electronica, while he pedals something like a butter churn.

It takes Arcade a moment to recognize the device for what it is: a foot-powered laundry rocker, popular with those who can't afford fission batteries for menial work. They keep a few at the Old Mormon Fort for emergency.

Stop dilly dallying, Arcade. He props himself up on his good elbow, against the queen bed's backboard.

"Thank you. Normally I'd prefer to at least introduce myself before bleeding out over someone's floor- my name's Arcade. Hello."

"You don't really need to stand on formality when cannibals are chasing you. But hello to you too, I'm River, and this," he waves the scrap in the air triumphantly, "is your ticket home, as soon as I can get it working. I salvaged a miniature tv set a while back, so once I wire it for radio you can call your friends for help."

"That...is wonderful, and it isn't your fault that they all happen to be in New Vegas." He's feeling sturdy enough to risk sitting up. "Not many Followers of the Apocalypse out here yet, and although we could certainly use volunteers I worry local enthusiasm might be limited."

"I guessed from the coat," River says, nodding at the laundry churn. "Hope you don't mind, the blood was starting to set."

"Oh, calamity. There were probably bacterial cultures entirely unknown to science festering on that coat- uh. I'm joking, it's just a byword how hard it is to keep them clean."

By now he's taken in the house- familiar prewar pattern, albeit cramped, but there's a number of oddities that don't quite fit the usual shack hacked into livability. The well-used work bench speaks to that, as does the planter with its small, lovingly tended cactus. The sight of it gives him an ache of nostalgia.

"You're probably thirsty, especially if you were drinking that brackish tidal water..." River gently picks a purple prickly pear with a set of tongs, squeezes it out into a soda bottle on the small neat stove. When he's done he hands it to Arcade.

Who holds it, feeling a little dumbfounded. He hasn't drunk clean water since Julie's last care package, and the sensation of a drink that doesn't burn at the back of the throat is something he's practically forgotten. This is soothing, even healing.

It would be very tempting to linger on here, but somewhere out there is a teenager who might need his help, he can't justify lollygagging around here. Arcade pulls himself out of bed, a trifle unsteadily but moving, only to find the impromptu bandage on his arm is soaked through and dripping. He splutters, oddly embarrassed.

River yelps, breath suddenly coming too fast: Arcade might not be much of a doctor but hyperventilating isn't hard to diagnose. "Uh. Are you okay?"

"I just don't handle blood very well..."

Arcade wastes a speechless moment being impressed that he's still here at all, if his rescuer had to overcome a fear this violent to patch him together. "Then, uh, you don't have to do it again. I'm a qualified doctor, if you want to turn around and not watch that's fine..." He trails off, suddenly aware of how unlikely it is that any one in the Wasteland would turn their back on a stranger in their own home.

Only River does shift the chair and churn around, along with something like a sigh of relief. "I'm not trying to be rude...it's just. A lot."

Arcade retrieves his doctor's bag from where it's been thoughtfully placed on a nearby desk, raises an eyebrow to see that his small stock of caps and cleansing vodka haven't even been touched. "Don't worry about it! I have a lot to thank you for, I can take it from here." DC is an odd place, where stimpaks are cheap but broc flowers are luxuries. A day or two there won't even be a scar. "In fact, I really ought to reimburse you if anything. Followers do accept donations, but we try not to be impositions."

"Oh, well, don't worry about that," River says. His voice is stronger now and the gentle thump- thump of the laundry churn is a steady sound. "I'm only here because the Crimson Caravan thought they should establish an outpost here. When my family farm went under, I started Brahmin herding for them...only there aren't any Brahmin in all of Point Lookout."

"Classic NCR efficiency."

"Yeah. It should be my sister here instead...I miss here more than I thought I would," he confesses.

Given this small cosy space compared to the horrors outside, that's not surprising.

"Actually, none of the local wildlife is very friendly," River says. "I did find a nice molerat but then a ghoul reaver came along and irradiated it..."

Arcade nods, then realises the gesture is less than helpful. "Uh. You survived an encounter with a reaver?"

"It chased me down to the water and I swam away from it," River explains. "Things that are on fire don't like liquid?"

Well. That does follow.

His arm's better now, ready to go..."Would my lab coat be ready now, you think? I'm cleaned up, it's fine to look," he adds belatedly.

River turns around, gives him a bit of a grin- it has definitely been too long since anyone grinned at him like that. "Let's look."

His lab coat, smelling of abraxo, is cleaner than it's been since he left the Boneyard; and the white stitching where it was torn is hardly noticeable. Nice repair work, that.

It's also dripping wet. Naturally.

"If you need to leave so urgently that you don't mind wearing it like that, I guess you could be going right now," River says. Not exactly wistful, but undeniably lonely.

Arcade frowns and looks out at the dark sky, punctured by marsh gas flickering in the night. "I wouldn't want to impose..."

"You wouldn't be," River says gently. "And if I'm frying chicken schnitzel, it isn't any trouble to make a few more."

The mention of food makes him uncomfortably aware of a sharp appetite. "Do you normally cook fry-ups at unholy hours of the morning?"

"If I have a hungry guest, why not?" River sounds remarkably sincere.

"You know what. Anyone listening to this would think you're the one who's the Follower, not me."

"Oh. Definitely not- I'm honoured, but again, the blood thing? No, thank you."

Arcade casts one more look out the window, almost shivering at the thought of being cold and alone and hunted out there, when instead he's here and safe. "Well...hospitalis sancti. Hospitality is sacred. And in this case, comes highly appreciated."

River stops with his hand on the fridge door. "You aren't Legion, are you?"

"No! Sweet rads, no, I just...like watching old gladiator holotapes..." Arcade trails off, feeling utterly ridiculous.

River looks relieved, though. "That's all right then."

Turns out his rescuer has a very attractive laugh.

[drawbauchery]

It All Started With A Flower

(fic by cartoons-tothemoon)

It all started with a flower.

The flower wasn’t poisonous to the touch, or venomous, or covered with spikes. It didn’t shoot a toxin, or come with a chainsaw attached, or even have a return address belonging to a frenemy of days long since past.

It was just…A flower. A flower that was found on the kitchen table in a blue vase one morning, that no one had any clue where it could have come from.

Kowalski said it was a bluebell, but that was the extent of his knowledge about it.

Rico said something about Julien placing it there, but Julien rarely left the comfort of his room, and preferred to express his affection for others with more…carnal means.

Skipper ignored it when it was first found within their lair, and seemed to express an indifference towards it ever since.

Private was the only one with anything to say on the matter, and that was a simple “I like it! Ties the room together, don’t ya think?” and moving the vase closer to a window. This would normally implicate him, but, Private’s played the game of double cross and triple cross quite well before, and quite well. He didn’t seem to be lying about this, though, there was a hint of sadness on his features as he moved the flower to follow the sun after lunch.

“It’s kind of sad how it’s probably going to die in a week.” He remarked to Skipper, who got stuck with dish duty after Rico was sent to time-out for being horny on main and Kowalski bolting after lunch to return to his work, claiming a breakthrough. At least Private stuck around to dry. “Without its roots, all it can do is just slowly wither and decay and all I can do is prolong its misery.”

“Well, thank goodness plants don’t have feelings.”

“It’s still alive.” Private shrugged. “I guess it’d feel nice to have something to care for at the base. Something I can sustain outside of myself. I don’t know, does that sound weird.”

Skipper, in all of his benevolent wisdom simply responded with an “I don’t know,” as well. Because really, what does he know? And what was he going to say? Skipper’s always wanted to have a dog on base, like a golden retriever or German shepherd, but only the A-teams at the agency are allowed to have animals on their bases, and, let’s face it; they aren’t the A-team.

Private shrugged. “Well, at least it’ll look nice while it lasts. Maybe I should pick up a cactus or something…” He muttered before leaving a washcloth on the counter, and Skipper to stack the dishes, as both became divided in their own thoughts, and lost among them as they continued to carry on with their days. Skipper glanced towards the bluebell, the meaning not lost on him.

———

Private, like usual, was very close to being right, but not. Thanks to his attention and care, the uprooted plant was able to thrive for 11 days, though those last 3 days certainly seemed to be a losing battle on the plant’s part. It had to be tossed after that, but not before Private had a moment of silence with the fragile thing before throwing it away.

It was a shame, really. He tried hard with that thing, but maybe he didn’t try hard enough? Maybe his prospects were doomed from the start, and it would’ve been quicker to have left well enough alone, but at least he still tried with it, after all, doesn’t that mean something?

He really didn’t know how to take it, but considering nobody else really thought much of it, more likely to be a mix-up in a delivery than anything actually meaningful, he decided to take it for what it was, so to speak.

Until it happened again the next morning.

———

“Kowalski, analysis.”

“I can only type so fast, Skipper, you think I know this stuff at the top of my head? Aha! Acacia blossoms.”

It could be called deja vu, in a way, but it could also be remarked upon as a bit of a remix, as the plant arrived in a pot this time around, a much more sustainable way of growing it and allowing it to flourish, which Private seemed to be excited about, though he tried not to show it.

“Is it poisonous?”

Kowalski snorted. “Only if you ground up the leaves with glycosides could you make SOMETHING like hydrogen cyanide, which I DID know at the top of my head, but, otherwise, the plant poses no harm to us.”

“So, what have you been looking up?”

“Other aspects surrounding the plant, once is a coincidence, twice is happenstance, and if it happens three times, we’ll have a pattern. Both the bluebells and acacia have an interesting history in herbal remedies and flower language, I might have to look into it later…” Kowalski muttered while pulling leaves off the plant.

“Be careful with it!” Private bemoaned, blocking Kowalski’s hands from ripping into more leaves. “It’s fragile.”

“Look, you boys can toss the bouquet around all you want, but I want this table clean before I’m done making breakfast.” Skipper said, breaking the two up on his way into the kitchen, Rico following - probably on his way to burn some toast and discuss a mission they were pulling off that night- leaving Kowalski and Private to their lonesome.

“I…apologize for being so rough with the plant, but, if you’re able to sustain it, being able to branch out in our weapon’s department could be a huge help.”

“I’m ignoring all that other stuff,” Private said, “but are you sure you want me to grow it?  Wouldn’t you be better at it, what with all the sciences you’re into?”

“Private. Just because I’m a scientist doesn’t mean I study the entirety of anything scientific. My knowledge of botany and other soft sciences is comparatively lacking compared to my physics and chemistry knowledge, and, well, you’re the softest person I know.” Kowalski ruffled his hair at that, and Private giggled. “I even know a place where you could grow it if we really want to expand this option.”

“Really?

———

“I didn’t even know we had a greenhouse.” Skipper muttered as Private guided him inside after a few hours of work inside. Apparently, Marlene had promised him the apartment next door rent-free if Kowalski could find a way to restore the value that her apartment complex  had somewhat lost due to letting the four + Julien and company live there. The task force had no idea what he did, but apparently it brought the value back tenfold, and so, Kowalski had created a doorway between the two apartments, and inside such a place, one room was dedicated to being a green house.

It was an amazing deal for both of them, which, all things considered, was a pretty rare win-win all around for the task force.

“I didn’t either!” Private said, and after practically dragging him inside, Private flitted around the place like an over-eager honeybee. “I set up the acacia plant in an area where it’ll get the most light, but I just finished setting up the sprinkler system, and oh! These are some of the beds I’ve set up, and apparently Kowalski found some soil in the warehouse and-“

Skipper watched fondly as Private babbled on and on about the flowers and the vegetables that could be grown here, and he could practically see the vision that Private himself was so excited about when he felt a tap on the shoulder.

“Skipper, I found a parallel between our deliveries.” Kowalski said, in a sort of tone that read as urgent but also mad? Skipper was at least a little familiar with it, but, he couldn’t really place it. Skipper gestured a vague goodbye to Private as he forced Kowalski back down the hallway which he came.

“What?”

“They’re wildflowers. Not normally bought in flower shops. Both are native to New York.”

“Alright, so whoever’s sending them is right inside our home state, the one with 8 million people in it?” Skipper said. “That narrows it down a LOT.”

“Why didn’t you want me to say this in front of Private?”

“It’s not like I’m psychic, Kowalski, I didn’t know what you were going to say. I half-figured you were going to crush the kid’s spirit.”

“Does that sound like something I’d do?”

“You do a lot of rather strange things rather unintentionally.”

“Sir, this isn’t the kind of thing to be brushed off. If it isn’t from someone we know, then it’s from someone we DON’T, and that means that that someone is capable of getting into our secret base? Isn’t it usually your job to panic about these things?”

“I don’t panic.”

“I’m sorry, sir, you don’t panic, but you don’t seem all that worried about finding out who’s sending them.”

“When we know, we’ll know. At this point, it’s more likely that it’s a flower delivery gone wrong than it is a malicious plot of some sort. And if it is, we’ll handle it.” Skipper shrugged.

“Skipper, are you even listening to me? I just said-“ It was at this point that Skipper just began walking away from the conversation. If Kowalski was so passionate about this conversation, it would be easy for him to continue, but the sea of apathy and disinterest that came off of Skipper in that moment seemed to make the entire effort fruitless.

Skipper wasn’t all that worried about him, though. He’s a smart guy. He’ll figure it out.

If he didn’t find out sooner, he’d find out later.

———

The mission was pulled off without a hitch, and was one completed with ease. Of course, it’s always easier to manage one person than it is three, and not to knock Rico, but he was easier to work with than most as he didn’t ask that many questions. Of course, maybe that made him all the smarter all things considered. Skipper would still have to bribe him to keep quiet after all.

It was 7:00 in the morning, far too early to be up, but going back to sleep only to be woken up incredibly irritable would be rather suspicious considering he was the first one to “fall asleep” that night. Skipper put a special brew of coffee on, one that he made when he needed it especially strong after an especially rough night. Everything had to be accounted for. The men he worked with were always on edge, so if the slightest thing was off, something would be said. Something almost always was a little off, but, whether they caught it or not was always a little up in the air. In a way it made Skipper almost proud, and coming back from these sort of missions was a fun test for him as well as the crew to see if they could figure anything out, and if Skipper could keep them from figuring anything out.

It was all in good fun, surely, Skipper thought as he scrubbed his hands underneath the kitchen sink to remove any excess dirt from his skin and nails. Kowalski would catch something surely if he was sloppy like that. The wildcard in this scenario was the fact that Rico was involved, and Rico did not possess the same kind of urgency as Skipper did in this instance.

Still, he trusted him enough. That’s what made Rico such a valuable ally. Rico was reliable like that.

Eventually, the coffee had finally reached its perfect temperature and Skipper got to pour himself the perfect cup on a quiet morning, where the orange still hadn’t faded from the sky and the moon was still a faint sliver.

Of course, no matter how reliable Rico was, no matter how unsuspicious he seemed, no matter how he dotted every “i” that he feasibly could, there was no stopping someone who was already suspicious.

“Alright, where is it?” Kowalski asked dryly, it looked like he didn’t sleep a wink all night, and given that he was still in his clothes from yesterday, it showed.

“Hmm?” Skipper hummed, taking a sip from his cup, really savoring that bitter flavor.

“Don’t play dumb here, Skipper. Where’s the plant?”

Naturally, Kowalski was expecting him to say “what plant?” next, if he really was so committed to playing dumb. Instead, however, he replied with “which plant?”

“Which plant?” He echoed, and Skipper’s eyes widened slightly in realization at his slip up.

Shit.

“What do you mean by which-?” Kowalski began to say, but was cut off by the sound of frantic running, only to see Private in the doorway in his pajamas moments later.

“You have to see the greenhouse!” He said, with eagerness in his voice.

———

“Alright, so, first thing’s first, I get up, right? And I was going to grab breakfast, but I figured I should go care for the Acacias, right? But when I open up the door, this is what I see!” Private said, opening the door to reveal a few rows of various flowers already planted within the soil, a few flourishing vegetable plants here and there, a few empty rows for Private to with what he wished, and even a section dedicated to poisonous plants.

“Everything’s at the ready! It’s like I have my own little garden fairy looking out for me!” Private beamed. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Skipper looked at Rico. Rico looked at Kowalski. Kowalski glared at Skipper.

“It looks very nice, Private.” Skipper said, sipping from his mug to keep a smile from showing through. Kowalski raised an eyebrow at him, but seemed to drop it as he took the time to peruse the flowers.

“Acacias, Pink Camellias, Gardenias, Primroses…Very nice selection indeed.” Kowalski murmured, and Private smiled in his direction.

“You know their names?” Private said, heading towards Kowalski to peer at a Daffodil that was peeking a wilting head out of the soil.

“I’ve been doing a lot of research on flowers as of late. We should consider planting some plants that can be used as herbal remedies in here, as well.”

“Oh! That sounds like a great idea! My Uncle Nigel used lavender oil on cuts and bruises all the time!”

Skipper and Rico watched as they tittered away happily.

“Th-This really w-what you w-wanted?”

Skipper shrugged.

“It’s not like I didn’t think this was going to happen.” He stated plainly, though his brows were creased severely. “The first time was a fluke.”

The two stayed silent for a moment.

“F-Fourth time’s a charm?”

“Nah. But, it was nice to do this. Couldn’t do it without you.” Skipper shrugged, giving Rico a fist bump that Kowalski definitely caught sight of, but it’s not like he was going to do anything about it.

———

“So, did you know that all the flowers you were planting mean secret or unrequited love?”

“Flowers mean things?”

(Hey! I’m back. It seemed too late in the month for a mistletoe fic, and although originally I wanted to do something with flowers for Valentine’s day, it just felt like too long of a wait. So, I wanted to do something with flower language, because there’s nothing more romantic than being secretive, until I realized that nobody seriously invests their time in Victorian flower languages except fan fiction romance writers, so…Here we are.)

[tardistimes]

Aractune

Summary: The Master's companion is scared of spiders. How could he possibly abuse that knowledge?

Series: The Planets Part 3 | Part 2 | Part 1

Word Count: 5194

N.B.  Okay, I know some people will be put off by the mention of spiders in the description (I would be, as I have a spider phobia) but I promise I use minimal descriptions and their appearances are intended to be funny not scary!

AO3 link here.

“You’ll like this one.” The Master promised, opening the door for her. “Zenus. It’s a level five planet, like Earth. Its main inhabitants built their civilisations from the treetops, using a series of interconnected bridges to travel between the forests.”

“Err, I don’t think so,” Ana said, glancing outside at the arid landscape before them. There wasn’t a single tree in sight.

Giving her an innocent look after he peeked out the doors – immediately making Ana suspicious – he declared, “How strange. The TARDIS must have brought us here for some reason. Well, it would be a shame to come all this way and not have a look around. Shall we?”

Reluctantly following him outside, Ana took in their surroundings. The sky overhead was a reddish hue, a stark contrast to the greenish-black soil covering the majority of the landscape before them. It was only broken up by the odd jagged rock protruding from the dirt or a short plant of some variety, which resembled a black cactus.

“Where are we?” She asked once she had seen enough. It really was a desolate looking place, especially when she had been prepared for a luscious forest full of treetop houses.

“Hang on, I’ll check.” The Master said, turning to go look at the console.

“You mean you don’t just know?” Ana teased, taking a chance. “Wow. If the Doctor was here, she’d probably eat a bit of soil and immediately know where we are, what week it is and where the nearest doughnut shop is.”

She didn’t often try to compare him to the Doctor, knowing their relationship was a sensitive subject, and Ana immediately bit down on her lip after making the remark as she waited nervously for his response.

The Master glared over his shoulder at her, resolutely shutting the TARDIS door before stalking back to her side. “Fine.”

He drew in a deep breath. “Aractune.”

“No doughnut shop?” Ana asked, glancing at him out the corner of her eye.

“No. And I don’t need to eat dirt to figure that out.” The Master replied dryly.

“Good,” she smiled, “to be honest, I always found that kinda gross.”

He grinned back. His smiles were always so sharp, but Ana found them increasingly endearing. Especially as he moved closer to weave their fingers together. “Come on, pet. Let’s see what’s around.”

“Doesn’t look like much of anything.” She pointed out. There were no roads or trails to suggest a civilisation of any kind. The landscape, to her, looked too barren to support any kind of life, but, as the Master said, the TARDIS wouldn’t take them there for no reason.

The Master swung their hands between them as they walked, making her laugh. He was only doing it as a joke; even without an audience, he loved to be dramatic. Ana still enjoyed the contact though. Usually, his touches were possessive, it made a nice change when they could be light-hearted like this.

“So, what do you know about Aractune?” She asked as they walked along. They were getting further away from the TARDIS, currently disguised as a large boulder, but no matter how far they walked there were no signs of people.

“Level two planet,” he replied, “so not much chaos to create here. I do seem to recall though,” the Master drawled, “I mean, I’m not the Doctor so I’m not sure how accurate this is…”

Ana rolled her eyes. She should have known he wouldn’t let the matter go.

“…but Aractune is known for a nightly meteor shower which, when viewed through the planet’s atmosphere, is meant to be quite spectacular. To a human, anyway. Can’t imagine it would hold much interest to me.” He sniffed.

“We can leave if you don’t want to be here.” Ana said. “We were meant to go to Zenus anyway.”

“Yes, us Time Lords always taking you to the wrong places.” He said lightly.

“This is the only time you’ve ever done that.” Ana pointed out. “And you said that was the TARDIS’s fault, not yours.”

“It is.” The Master agreed.

“There you go then. The Doctor was always taking us to the wrong place,” she laughed, perhaps overexaggerating a little but it wasn’t a lie, “did I ever tell you about the time she promised to take me home and we ended up on an iceberg? No? Well, I’ve made my point. You’re obviously the superior pilot.”

His grin grew and he preened under her compliment. The Master was such a vain creature, which she never failed to find hilarious.

“So we’re staying for the meteor shower?” Ana asked. “I guess we can only see it at nightfall? How long do we have to wait?”

“The days are quite short here. I’d say we only have to wait half an hour before sunset.”

“Great.”

Glancing around, she was unsurprised to see there was still little to do to pass the time.

“What do we do until then?”

Reaching into his pocket, which Ana had learned were bigger on the inside a while ago, he pulled out a blanket and unfurled it on the floor.

“Do you just carry that with you all the time?” She asked sceptically. That didn’t sound like something the Master would waste space on.

“Never know when you might need a blanket.” He told her.

She still didn’t believe him but took a seat beside him on the ground. He laid back after he was sure she was comfortable and, as always, she followed him. Pointing up at the sky, he told her more about the planet, some of the reptilian-like animals which had begun to develop over the past million years, how the environment would develop over subsequent millennia until it was suitable to maintain intelligent life; trying to show off with his knowledge and dispel any comparison with the Doctor.

As he started to tell her about the natural satellites in orbit, the reddish sky darkened into a deep purple before fading into black. The stars lit up the night sky, softly illuminating the landscape around them. It was very dark once the sun set on the planet and, feeling slightly exposed, Ana shuffled closer to the Master where she felt safer.

“Are you warm enough?” He asked.

While the temperatures had dropped with the departing sun, she was fine beside him. “No.”

“Scared?” He teased next.

“No.” Ana intoned.

He stretched his arm out and, taking the invitation, Ana rolled into his side. “Silly human.” The Master mumbled into her hair, pulling her closer with his free hand.

The meteors began to shoot across the night sky, pulling a delighted cry from Ana as she saw them. The sparks from their trails flared brightly, illuminating the entire sky above them with flashes of warm yellow. They swirled into the dusty atmosphere, mixing into explosions of bright oranges and fiery reds.

The Master grinned smugly as Ana exclaimed how beautiful it was – his human was so easy to please.

She became entirely entranced with the display as it continued to unfold overhead, so Ana barely heard the rustling that first sounded behind her. When it came again, however, suddenly closer, she jumped. Pressing her hands to the Master’s chest, she pushed herself up and squinted through the shadows surrounding them.

“What was that?” Ana asked nervously.

“What was what?” The Master replied lazily, idly running his fingers through the ends of her hair.

Shaking her head, sure she was imagining it, Ana settled back against him.

“Okay, no. Do you not hear that?” She said a minute later, sitting upright as the noise came again.

“It’s just the wind.” He dismissed, still laying down. “Now pay attention to the meteor shower. You see those meteors at the end? In about ten thousand years they will finally come close enough to the planet to be pulled in by its orbit. Where they crash will become the first major body of water, which will advance the development of intelligent life. As for the other meteors, they crash five million years from now and destroy the civilisation which ultimately forms here. Absolute devastation, we really should visit…”

“Master!” Ana exclaimed. Whatever caused the noise was close enough now for her to pinpoint it, coming from her left.

Her head turned just in time to see the spindly creature approach, its numerous legs slowly breaking through the shadows as it neared them and Ana realised with a stab of terror, “SPIDER!”

It was nearly the size of a basketball and scurried towards her. With a cry, she rolled over the Master’s torso until she was firmly behind him, fully prepared to use him as a human (alien, she corrected) shield.

Instead of complaining about the indignity of her actions, the Master calmly pulled the TCE from his pocket and killed the creature approaching them.

“Honestly,” he tusked, once it was taken care of, “that is not a spider. We’re not on Earth, darling. Look.”

Reaching forward to pluck up the miniature, he held it close to Ana’s face, sighing when she immediately scampered away.

“Don’t put it near me!” She yelled.

“Pet, I’m just trying to demonstrate that it only has seven legs. Not eight.”

Refusing to look, Ana declared, “I don’t care, it still scared the crap out of me. Sneaking up on us like that. Hang on a minute,” she said, a shudder running down her spine, “are there more of those?”

“Yes. At this moment in time, they’re the dominant life form on the planet.”

Hurrying back to his side, Ana grabbed his arm (the one not holding the spider-like creature) and held him tightly. “Get me the hell out of here.”

The Master raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s fine. As I just demonstrated,” he flicked the figurine away from them, “I am more than capable of protecting us. Besides, they’re not venomous. Not to humans anyway. As far as I know.”

Ana shot him an unimpressed look. “I am not sitting out here with those things all around us.”

“But love, the meteor shower.”

“No.” She insisted, standing up and crossing her arms.

The Master, unable to remember a time he had seen Ana ever so resolute, slowly stood. Carefully folding the blanket while she tapped her foot impatiently, he only led her back to the TARDIS once it was properly tucked back inside his pocket. Offering her his arm, she quickly took it and stayed pressed to his side the entire way back.

Holding the door open for her, Ana hastened inside the TARDIS – determined to have a scolding hot shower in the hopes it would kill the feeling of invisible spiders crawling over her skin. She always felt that way after an encounter.

The Master watched her go, waiting for her to leave the console room before allowing a mischievous smile to cross his face.

________________________________________________________________

Every few weeks, the Master returned Ana home so she could maintain the life she’d left behind to travel with him – making calls to relatives and paying her bills. He was never happy about it, constantly making the argument for her to quit her job, sell her things and move aboard the TARDIS permanently. Every time, Ana pointed out she still had family on Earth and she needed somewhere to stay while visiting them.

Really, she knew it wouldn’t matter much to her if she never saw her family ever again, and she had no friends of note. Getting rid of her home, however, seemed too great a risk. Realistically, despite the developments in their relationship, Ana would always think there was a chance the Master would tire of her one day and leave her somewhere. On the chance he had enough compassion for her left to make that place Earth, it would help to have somewhere to go.

The Master was stood in the console room when she came back from her bedroom – where she had collected a few things she’d need on Earth – scrutinising the screens to try and avoid a goodbye.

With a sigh, Ana crossed over to his side. It seemed her trip home would be like every other. Just once, she wished she could say goodbye for a few days without the Master treating it as though she were saying goodbye forever.

Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, Ana said, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Three days.” The Master confirmed grumpily.

She didn’t know why he always made such a performance about this. He had a time machine. He could literally close the door and travel to exactly three days’ time when she was due to come back to the TARDIS, leaving no time to miss her. Instead, he’d go off on his adventures – which he’d tell her all about once she came back, making them sound as enchanting and wonderful as he could – in the hopes it would make her regret her decision to leave and choose to move into the TARDIS permanently.

If she were being honest with herself, Ana did miss the Master and the TARDIS when she left. In an ideal world, she would stay with him for as long as she could before her mortality got in the way. Life was never ideal however and she knew she had to maintain a life beyond him.

“Goodbye, Master,” Ana said, saddened when he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

He started toying with the switches on the console, which she took as her cue to leave.

Sighing again, Ana pulled open the TARDIS door and stepped outside into her living room.

Glancing around, customarily checking to see everything was in place, she paused when she saw an ominously large cobweb in a corner of the room. It spanned about a foot and was worryingly empty.

Leaving the TARDIS door open just to be safe, Ana tentatively stepped closer to it, her eyes jumping around so nothing could sneak up on her. The experience of Aractune was still fresh in her memory and she had no desire to relive any part of that.

Rationally, she knew her fear was irrational. Unfortunately, there was nothing rational about phobias and she’d been scared witless of spiders for as long as she could remember. It was something her family had always teased her for, using it as an obstacle to her following in their footsteps. How could she work in law enforcement, act in a capacity to keep others safe, if she fell prey to irrational fear so easily?

There was nothing around the cobweb and Ana prayed the creature that had created it had since departed her apartment.

Turning around, she clapped a hand to her mouth to contain the squeal which left her lips.

She only muffled part of it, enough escaping to capture the Master’s attention.

“Was that you?” He asked, stepping into her house. Casting a disparaging look at his surroundings, he declared, “Honestly pet, I don’t know what you see in this place. You could fit the entirety of this apartment inside your room in the TARDIS. At least let me find you somewhere suitable on this scrap heap of a planet?”

“Master.” Ana squeaked, jabbing a finger towards the dead, offending creature laid in the middle of her living room floor.

“What is it?” He said, curiously following her gesture. When he saw what had gotten her so excited he groaned. “Not this again. I do not understand your preoccupation with eight-legged animals. We have faced far worse, love. Significantly more dangerous and, in my opinion, much uglier. This,” he condemned, scrutinising the small arachnid before him, “it would barely fill the palm of your hand, let alone mine. And it’s already dead!”

Ana shuddered at the thought of touching it.

“Can you just get rid of it, please?” She implored, trying to keep her tone even and courteous. The last thing she needed was the Master to decide the situation was funny and torment her with the thing even further.

Luckily, after one glimpse at her face, he realised how strongly she wanted it gone and did so without complaint. Only once he’d scooped it up and left the room to dispose of its body, did Ana feel the tension leave her body. That encounter had come too close off the back of the one on Aractune and she prayed, for the sake of her nerves, she wouldn’t encounter any more spiders for quite some time. Or, ideally, ever again.

“All gone.” The Master announced as he came back in.

“Thank you,” Ana said, gushing with gratitude. If he hadn’t just handled its body, she would have thrown herself into his arms to show just how appreciative she was.

“Don’t mention it.” He grinned. “Now, about this flat of yours. I really do think you can do better. Why don’t I…”

“Master.” Ana moaned. Not again.

He held up his hands. “Very well. I won’t mention it. You stay here, in your adorable little hovel. I just hope, for your sake, that you don’t have an infestation of those silly little creatures.” The Master said idly. “Hey, do you remember that woman who was killed by those giant spiders in her apartment when we first met? I couldn’t say so at the time – given the part, I was playing – but that was quite funny, wasn’t it?”

Ana felt all the colour leave her face.

Her eyes bounced around the flat and suddenly her body was tense again.

That sneaky bastard.

Shooting him a glare, Ana stalked past him back into the TARDIS.

“Oh, are you not staying? How delightful, darling.” He grinned. “Now, how about we try and get to Zenus this time. I really do think you’ll enjoy it.”

________________________________________________________________

Ana had been trying to shower away the grime from their latest adventure when she caught sight of the first black leg emerging from the drain. With a shriek, she leapt out of the cubicle, hollering for help.

Grabbing the closest towel, Ana wrapped it around herself just in time for the Master to burst through the door to come to her rescue. If she had thought about it rationally, she might have questioned how he had responded so quickly – given he had last been seen in the console room and, no matter how much the TARDIS aided him by rearranging the corridors, he shouldn’t have been able to get to her so fast.

Instead, she watched him kill the spider and flush it down the toilet, before hurrying to his side to thank him. He pulled her into a hug, grateful for all the skin bared to him by the towel she wore, as he ran his hands along her arms before pulling her flush to his chest.

Once her heart had slowed down to its normal rate, Ana pulled back and switched off the water.

“Your clothes are all damp.” She apologised when she returned to his side.

“Don’t worry about it. I have plenty more where these come from.” He assured, pushing the hair out of her face. “Besides, all in the line of duty. I can’t let those pesky things get to my human now, can I?”

His hand trailed down her face to brush over her bottom lip and he delighted as Ana immediately gave into temptation and leaned in to initiate a passionate kiss, the leftover adrenaline from her encounter making their embrace increasingly desperate.  

________________________________________________________________

“How do spiders keep getting aboard?” Ana lamented, her legs pulled up onto the seat of her chair while the Master caught the spider which had just crawled out the kitchen cupboard while she was trying to get some cereal for breakfast. “We’re in space!”

“We must have picked some up when you wanted to go to Earth yesterday.” The Master explained pointedly. He’d given Ana free reign to choose their destination and, to his chagrin, she wanted to go to Earth to see the launch of Apollo 11. To him, a trip to her sub-par planet to witness the development of primitive technology was a waste of a trip, but she’d found it fascinating.

“The launch probably disrupted a lot of the wildlife and they would have sought shelter.”

The notion that the latest scare was probably her fault, made her apologise for causing such a commotion.

“It’s all right, pet.” He said good-naturedly. “Gave me an opportunity to swoop in and rescue you.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her, making Ana laugh.

“My hero.” She grinned, going along with the joke.

At least he was trying to be.

________________________________________________________________

 Picking up her phone, Ana quickly dialled the TARDIS phone.

“Miss me already, love.” The Master answered, picking up after the first ring. There was a sound of machinery clunking in the background, so Ana presumed he was working in the console room.

“Erm, are you busy?” She asked nervously.

“You do miss me, don’t you?” He chuckled deeply. If the hairs on the back of her neck weren’t already standing on end, they would have been after hearing his pleased tone. “Good pet. Why don’t you tell me what it is you need?”

She was too panicked to respond to his flirting and demanded, a bit too sharply, “Can you just come back? Please?”

The line was silent for a moment before the Master slowly agreed.

“All right, Ana. I’ll be right there.”

Pocketing her phone, Ana concentrated on what was before her. As long as she kept her eyes on it, she wouldn’t lose it. The Master would arrive and get rid of it, then she could go back to enjoying her holiday.

In exchange for the night she’d missed on Daviron – when he’d eagerly whisked her away from her vacation early despite their deal – Ana had convinced the Master to let her stay at a resort for the day. They’d come across the place on their latest adventure. The resort was surrounded by natural geothermal springs and sat secluded in the middle of the planet’s woodlands. It had seemed so beautiful and peaceful, that Ana had implored him to spend more time there and, like last time, the Master had secured her a beautiful suite at the resort’s hotel where she would stay overnight.

Her time there had been blissfully relaxing. Right up until the spider before her emerged. It was the biggest she’d seen since Sheffield and Ana was desperate to get away from it, however, it was between her and the door, leaving little room for her to escape without coming into contact with it.

The sound of the TARDIS landing was the most wonderful noise in the universe Ana decided, as it landed in her bedroom. Taking up space beside her wardrobe, it disguised itself as an additional door.

Stepping outside, the Master raised his hands in question.

Jerking her head towards the problem, she watched as he amusedly realised what he had been summoned for.

“Darling, if you missed me all you needed to do was call. You don’t need to orchestrate these things to justify it.” He jested, raking his eyes up and down the length of her body. “You know I’d never leave you lonely.”

“Master, please.” Ana pleaded, returning her eyes to the oversized bug so it couldn’t disappear on her. She’d spend the night dreading its reappearance.

With all the airs of a long-suffering man, the Master sighed as he withdrew his TCE and killed yet another creature which had offended his human.

Turning on her heel, Ana threw her arms around him and hugged him desperately.

“I knew you’d missed me.” He crowed into her hair, reeling her close.

Shivering slightly, she tried to will herself to relax. It was gone, the Master had dealt with it and she was perfectly safe.

The Master sensed her distress and hugged her more gently, with a firm hand stroking her back to calm her. “It’s all gone now, Ana.” He promised. “You can get back to your holiday now.”

She grimaced at the thought – no longer feeling safe alone in the room it had emerged in – and, after a moment, the Master added, “Unless you want to come back to the TARDIS early?”

Nodding into his shoulder, Ana was unable to see the delight on his face.

Scooping her up, the Master hastened her into the TARDIS without a backward glance.

________________________________________________________________

In hindsight, Ana should have realised what the Master was doing long before she did. As it happened, she only found out when she caught him in the act. The squirming spider was trapped between his fingers by one of its legs, about to go on Ana’s bed. 

Slamming the door behind her, the Master froze before he could let it go. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he gave her a guilty grin. “Pet. I thought you were going for a swim?”

“I forgot my towel,” Ana explained dryly, pointing to the item she had left slung over a chair. 

“We have spares in the lockers beside the pool.” He told her, his tone casual as the spider continued its struggle against his grip. 

Ana arched a brow. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t know that or I wouldn’t have come back so soon.” She drawled. “Just what exactly are you doing with that spider?”

“I was removing it.”

She hummed sceptically. “What were you doing in here to begin with?”

As the Master of lies, he spun her a pretty story about wanting to do something romantic by leaving a gift on her bed – he even had a box in his pocket to produce as part of the charade, something he often kept on him in case he attracted his human’s ire and needed a distraction. The lie may have worked on her – it was, she begrudgingly conceded, convincingly told – if, while he spoke, her memory hadn’t produced all those times she had been terrorised by one of those eight-legged creatures, with the Master always conveniently placed to come to her rescue. Taking her to Aractune, even though he knew from their first meeting she was terrified of spiders (or in Aractune’s case, spider-like creatures). The one in her apartment, in the shower, in the TARDIS’s kitchen, in her hotel suite, and now one on her pillow. Undoubtedly he would have waited just around the corner, waiting for her screech of terror before dashing in to rescue her. 

“If you want me to be your damsel in distress,” Ana said acidly, once he was finished telling his fabrications, “perhaps you could try something different next time? Maybe pay someone to dangle me off a building or accidentally drop me into shark-infested waters? This act with the spiders is starting to wear a bit thin. How about some real jeopardy?”

“Pet, I just told you…”

“Treating me like an idiot isn’t going to win me over, you know.” She bit back. Marching over to her bedroom door, she yanked it open and gestured outside. “Take your eight-legged friend with you on your way out.”

“This is my TARDIS, Ana. I’ll go where I please.” He stated, immediately rebelling. 

“Fine. You can take me home then. At least I know you haven’t had time to sneak anything into my house just to scare me back to you. Take me home.”

The Master crushed the spider in his hand, annoyed with its wriggling, and Ana fought not to grimace. She must have failed as, upon catching sight of her face, his ire magnified. 

“Why don’t you get the Doctor to take you home if you’re so disgusted?”

Ana was taken aback. “The Doctor? What has she got to do with anything?” 

“I travelled with you all, pet.” The Master reminded. “I saw you all together. The way your eyes used to light up whenever she would swoop in to rescue you from danger – which, for the record, she also used to put you in. Never did you blame her for that, instead you would all simper and praise her intelligence, her bravery. Your precious Doctor. I’m sure if she had done this, you would have found it delightful!” He yelled, the bitterness dripping so heavily from his words, Ana could feel it wash over her from the other side of the room. 

Her bewilderment grew. “That’s why you did this? You wanted an excuse to rescue me so you could be more like the Doctor.”

Out of habit, he rejoined, “I am nothing like the Doctor!”

“I know!” Ana yelled back. When his face fell, she added softly, “That’s why I chose you.”

Walking closer, still mindful of his hand and the crushed remains of the insect smeared over his palm, Ana looked at him. “When I was with the fam and I got into danger, there was always a part of me that thought they wouldn’t miss me if I was gone. I was never really a part of their family, and part of me wondered if sometimes they wouldn’t like to get rid of me. That, given the opportunity of me being in danger, they would just leave me there. That’s why I was so happy when O started to come with us because, with you there, I knew there was always someone who would notice if I wasn’t there, who would push to get me back whatever the risk. That’s why I’m with you now. You might get me into ridiculously dangerous situations, but I know you’ll always try to rescue me from them.”

“Always.” The Master confirmed without hesitation. 

Ana believed him. While she knew there was a chance the Master might get sick of her one day and send her packing, she was confident he would never leave her to fall victim to one of his messes. She believed he cared for her enough to never wish her physical harm. If she was in danger, he would rescue her. There was no doubt in her mind. And she certainly didn’t need any convincing to stay with him – she had never regretted her choice to leave the Doctor for the Master and couldn’t imagine there would ever be a time that she would. 

“You don’t need to play pretend being the hero, Master. There’s nothing for you to live up to. I’m happy where I am.” Ana said. “No more spiders, okay?

“No more spiders.” He confirmed. Raising his hands, ready to tug her into a kiss, he pouted when Ana hastily backed away. 

“Okay, don’t get me wrong. I’d love to kiss you, really I would. But you’ve got to wash that hand first, I’m not getting spider guts in my hair.”

His dour expression was replaced with a grin as he realised her true motive for pulling away. Pointing a finger at her, he said sternly, “Don’t go anywhere.”

The Master hastened into her bathroom to do as his pet desired, Ana giggling as she watched him run off, so eager to return for his kiss. 

“I’m still mad about you planting all those spiders though.” She called after him. 

“I know.” He replied sulkily, prompting her to laugh again. “I’ll make it up to you.”

My hero, she thought wryly.

Note: That second experience is based on something that happened to me when a relative, who had been house sitting for us, thought it would be funny to leave a dead spider in the middle of my bedroom floor for when I got home because they know how much I hate spiders. Suffice to say, I didn't find it funny! 

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this and no one found the spiders creepy! I know this story doesn't progress the series much, I just thought it was a funny idea as I'd already set up that Ana hates spiders in Vabivis. Let me know your thoughts!

N.B. I've now made a Discord group for Master fans (and other Dhawan characters like Orlo, Davos etc). If you're interested in joining, message me for the link! 

[alounuitte]

cactus blossoms

(or, some can only bloom with water from the desert sky)

Adam needs some support while he recovers from a surgery, and Shiro volunteers to be his best friend's roommate for the summer after their first year in the Garrison. Somehow, it turns out he's not the only one Adam gets a chance to get closer to, and an operation isn't the only thing he's recovering from. (pre-relationship, but no romance will be in this.) [Updates Wednesdays!]

chapter 9.

(chapter warnings: medical drugs throughout and brief emeto warning towards the end.)

--

Shiro frowns and checks his phone again, kicking his foot anxiously against the edge of his chair, and sighs when he sees no new messages. He’d expected a text sooner than this, but he’s determined not to worry too much until it’s been at least an hour. Probably nothing’s actually wrong, just a minor delay.

As he goes to put his phone away, the intercom clicks on, and a woman’s voice on the speaker says politely, “Commander Montgomery to infirmary, please, Commander Montgomery please report to the infirmary.”

His heart jumps into his throat, and in a second he’s on his feet, running down the hall towards the medical wing. Since Montgomery’s name is on Adam’s medical assistance form, technically she’s the one responsible for him right now, and that means the call is probably about him. He knows he’s not going to be allowed to see Adam if something’s actually wrong, but he wants to be there to find out what’s going on as soon as Montgomery knows.

“What’s going on?” he asks as soon as he gets to the waiting room and sees Montgomery standing by the counter. “Is he okay?”

To his relief, she laughs, and gestures with her head to the back row of seats. “See for yourself,” she says.

He looks over and sees, on second glance, that Adam is there already, sprawled awkwardly on his back across three seats and apparently asleep. Shiro bites his tongue to keep from laughing too. “What, they give him too much anaesthetic?” he asks.

“Apparently he got fighty when he woke up,” she says. “They had to give him another shot of anxiolytic to calm him down, so he might be pretty out of it for a bit.”

Shiro crosses the room to crouch down in front of him, grinning as he pulls his phone out to film. “Hey, man,” he says. “You up?”

“Why’re you yelling…?” Adam asks, cracking one eye open. “‘m right here.”

“Sorry,” Shiro says, more quietly, though he hadn’t really been speaking all that loudly. “You comfortable there?”

“Mm…” Adam muses, frowning. “No, this is terrible.”

“Yeah, these chairs aren’t really meant for laying down,” Shiro agrees, fighting not to laugh as he turns his phone camera to show the row of hard seats. “You wanna get up and go back upstairs?”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Adam complains. “Mm…’na...just...sleep on the couch.”

Shiro can’t help snorting at that, as much as he’s trying not to lose his composure. “What couch, buddy?” he asks. “You gotta get back to our quarters for that.”

“No,” Adam says, looking sullen.

“Sorry,” he says, shrugging. “What do you think about some lunch?”

That makes Adam sit up, though he sways as soon as he does, his eyes unfocusing for a second. “I haven’t eaten in…” he says, and trails off, thinking hard. “Four… days.”

“Don’t think that’s right,” Shiro tells him, standing and offering a hand to help him up. “But it’s been a bit. Let’s get some food in you to offset the drugs, huh?”

“Oh, they gave me a lot of drugs,” Adam says, stumbling as he gets to his feet. “So… so many drugs. I think… seven...teen.” Shiro shakes his head, flipping to the front camera to film them both as Adam leans on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna let you handle him,” Montgomery says dryly, straightening her glasses. “Seems like you’ve got the situation under control.”

“Situation normal, Commander,” Adam assures her, and clumsily tries to salute, which makes him overbalance and fall into Shiro’s side. “Whoa, shit, not normal, we’re en...countering some, uh, some… weather.”

Shiro quickly switches to film her as she covers her mouth with one hand and closes her eyes in an excellent attempt to hide her amusement. “Very good, Cadet,” she says. “Shirogane, get him something to eat and get him to bed. I’ll send you the post-surgical notes to look over while he sleeps.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, grinning, and turns the camera back on himself and Adam. “Come on, let’s go,” he adds as he guides Adam out of the waiting room. “Any idea what you want for lunch?”

“Hm,” Adam hums, frowning, but doesn’t offer any actual answer.

“There’s leftover pizza still,” he offers. “Or cafeteria has, uh, chicken today, I think, or soup.”

“Too early for soup,” Adam says, shaking his head. It’s nearly noon, but Shiro decides he’s not likely to get anywhere by pointing that out. “I want...um…” Adam continues, staring hard at his hand as he slowly runs his thumb across his fingertips. “Pan...cakes. Eggs and pancakes.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t make either of those,” Shiro tells him, “and the cafeteria stopped serving breakfast three hours ago.”

“I can make them,” Adam says. “I’m a good cook, gonna make pancakes and… eggs. Toast. Eggs and toast. And pancakes.”

“Mm, no, you’re not gonna make anything right now,” Shiro says, trying to hide his smile. “You’re still doped up, remember?”

“But,” Adam protests, a whine creeping into his voice.

“I can get you frozen waffles?” Shiro suggests. “That’s sort of like pancakes.”

“Waffles are nothing like pancakes,” he argues. “They… they’re…” He falters, stops walking as he tries to figure out the difference. Shiro turns towards him to film his expression as he finally manages to explain,  “They’ve got...squares.”

Shiro has to take a few seconds to compose himself before he can speak without laughing. “Uh, yeah, that’s pretty much the thing that makes them different,” he agrees. “But they’re made of the same stuff, and they taste just as good.”

“I guess,” Adam says.

“Tell you what,” Shiro says. “I’ll get you frozen waffles and a smoothie from the smoothie machine.”

“Fuck, yes, I want orange juice,” Adam says, his eyes lighting up, and despite his best intentions, Shiro really can’t help laughing out loud at that.

They stop at the commissary snack shop on the way back to their quarters to get Adam breakfast, and Shiro shakes his head, grinning, as he watches Adam wander around the shop in a daze while they wait for the smoothie machine. His hands hover in front of him, fidgeting aimlessly, his fingers curling and uncurling as he examines the cooler with a kind of bewildered intensity.

“Whatcha looking at?” Shiro asks, zooming the camera in on his pensive expression.

“There’s so many fruits in here,” Adam replies, looking over at him with a frown.

Shiro laughs. “What are you doing, counting them?”

“No, they’re all… all different… in different…” Adam tries to explain, gesturing vaguely with one hand while the other tugs at the zipper of his hoodie. “There’s not the same, pineapples and grapes and… and… what are they called? They’ve got all different numbers of all the fruits.”

The smoothie machine whirs to a stop and Shiro grabs the cup when the door opens, still filming with one hand. “You want your smoothie?” he asks, snapping the lid on.

“For me?” Adam asks as he comes over with it. “What kind?”

“You said you wanted orange,” he says. “Did you forget because you were trying to count the fruit in the fruit cups?”

“Yeah, I want…” Adam says. “Uh, I want a fruit… this one, it’s got...milk in it.”

It’s a parfait cup and has yogurt in it, which Shiro makes sure to get a close-up of on his phone. “You want that instead of waffles?” he asks.

“I want… I don’t like waffles,” Adam says. “I wanna… put it on them.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “You’re gonna put the parfait on your waffles?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, nodding.

“Alright, whatever you say,” Shiro agrees, shaking his head. “Here, I’ll take that, you drink some of this smoothie, okay?”

“You’re giving it to me?” Adam asks again, and grins. “Oh, that’s… that’s really nice of you, thanks. Thank you.”

“No problem?” Shiro offers, putting a hand on Adam’s shoulder and guiding him to the counter so he can pay.

They take the elevator up to the officers’ quarters, Adam clutching his cup in both hands as he quietly sips his smoothie. “Hey, Shiro,” he says as they reach the door. “You’re a really great friend, you know that?”

“Don’t get all sappy on me,” Shiro teases, grinning. “You know I have you on camera.”

He laughs, covering his eyes with one hand as he takes another sip of his smoothie.

“You sit down,” Shiro tells him. “I’ll throw some of your waffles in the toaster.”

“Okay,” Adam agrees, and sits down. “It’s fucking cold in here, though.”

It’s really not, Shiro is pretty sure, since he’s perfectly comfortable in a t-shirt compared to Adam’s hoodie, but then, he’s not the one drinking a smoothie. “You want a blanket or something?” he offers.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmyeah,” Adam decides after a moment, and wraps one arm around himself while he sips his smoothie.

Shiro nods and goes to get one from his bed, bringing it over along with the parfait cup and a spoon. “Waffles will still be a minute, but if you wanna eat that while you wait go ahead,” he says, leaning against the counter to wait.

The idea of eating the parfait with a spoon seems like it’s a hard one to grasp, because Adam picks up both and sets them down again a moment later, looking confused. Shiro tries not to laugh again as he pulls up his camera to take some more video, watching him examine the parfait cup carefully. By the time the waffles are ready, he’s only managed a few bites and still doesn’t seem to have quite figured it out, so Shiro decides he better not complicate things further with more silverware, and brings them out with just a plate and a napkin.

“You need a hand with that?” he asks after a moment as Adam fumbles to scoop yogurt and strawberries onto his waffles.

“I got it,” Adam says. “I think the smoothie’s helping, my head’s not so… not so… like the drugs aren’t...in there. The smoothie’s, um… absorbing them, so now they’re in… the smoothie, in my… stomach…”

He puts his spoon down, frowning, one hand pulling absently at his sweatshirt. Shiro raises an eyebrow and sets his phone down on the counter. “Are you gonna puke?” he asks, already moving to help him up.

“Mmm,” Adam hums, thinking. “Maybe.”

“Alright, come on,” Shiro tells him, pulling him to his feet and leading him over to the sink. He sways on his feet, leaning heavily against the counter. Barely a moment later, he hiccups and slumps forward to vomit smoothie and chunks of strawberries into the bottom of the sink. Shiro winces.

“Sorry,” he says thickly, lifting his head.

“You’re fine,” Shiro says, turning on the tap and offering him a napkin to wipe his mouth. “You want some water?”

“Wanna go to bed,” Adam mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Okay,” Shiro agrees, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it halfway. “Rinse your mouth first, you don’t have to drink any if you don’t want.”

Adam nods and takes the glass, spitting out his first mouthful into the sink before drinking the rest. “Tired,” he manages. “‘M gonna sleep.”

“Yeah, let’s get you to bed,” Shiro says, putting an arm around his shoulders to guide him to his part of their partitioned quarters. “I’ll put your food away for later, alright?”

He nods. “Too much drugs,” he mumbles, collapsing into bed and struggling briefly to get under the comforter. “Night, Shiro.”

“Night, Adam,” Shiro tells him, amused, and waits a few moments by the edge of the partition until he’s asleep, before retreating to the living room to read up on the paperwork Montgomery sent. 

[fanficsaremylifeline]

I’ve got homework...

For the fantastic @fictional-worlds-are-exquisite, who prompted this story :)

It’s on AO3 too:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450930

***

“Hi Mr Stark!” With an excited grin, Peter skipped into the workshop, and, after throwing his backpack into the corner, he turned to Tony. “How are you doing?”

“I'm good”, he smiled. “And you?”

“Me too, thanks.” Peter sat on the table, letting his feet dangle. “You remember that robot we made last week? You know, the one for physics class?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“No big deal, but I got an A for it”, the kid smiled, and blushed  pinkish in pride.

“Wow”, Tony nodded, “that's something...”

“No need to be impressed or anything”, Peter grumbled as he crossed his arms and the blush was substituted with creased eyebrows.

Tony walked up to the kid, trying to bite down his grin. “I mean, it's not like you did it all by yourself...”

“Well, Mr Stark, I'm very grateful for your materials and your time and your assistance, but...”

“Assistance?”, Tony snorted. “I ain't nobody's assistant.”

Peter just looked at him and gave an exaggerated and exasperated sigh. “Yes, sir.”

They held the stare for a moment or two, before Tony burst out with laughter and put his arm around Peter's shoulders. “Good job, I'm really proud of you. All the planning and shit, that was you. And, even though it might pain me to admit it, but it's not like you really needed my help for it, did ya?”

With a meek grin Peter looked up and just shrugged.

“Yeah, thought so”, Tony chuckled and gave his shoulders another squeeze. “Change of topic, though. And please, just stay calm, don't freak or anything, alright?”

“Ok...” The curiosity was written clearly all over Peter's face, and, sitting so close to the boy, Tony could almost feel him vibrating with anticipation. Oh boy, maybe he should put some safety distance between the two of them...

“So, there is a mission...”

“OMIGOD!”, he squealed, definitely a few octaves too high for Tony's liking, and all but jumped up, until he stilled all of a sudden, when remembering Tony's earlier plea. “I'm sorry, Mr Stark”, he remarked after a moment of silence, clearly giving it his all to sound nonchalant. “Please continue.”

“Of course.” In all fondness, Tony couldn't help but shake his head at the excitement; it distinctly reminded him of a little puppy, or a child on Christmas morning. “As I was saying, there is a mission...” Tony decided to ignore the little jump Peter did and the high pitched squeal. “Low-level stuff, a right-wing terrorist group, SHIELD has been monitoring. Swoop in, secure the guys, and done.”

“That sounds very good”, Peter nodded; his forced casual diction was absolutely ridiculous, as was him grabbing so hard onto the table, he actually warped the metal.

“Figured, that's why I thought that you would like to... Oh, shit.”

“What is it?”

Now it was Tony, who had to practice all his restraint and not burst into laughter. “I totally forgot!” Shaking his head, he turned to Peter, who looked all worried about what might have happened. “Sorry, of course you can't come along!”

“What?” And cue the face drop. Wow, this was what a kicked puppy looked like.

“Don't you have homework?” At this remark, Tony couldn't help the smug grin breaking through.

“Wha... You're the worst.” With realization came the creased eyebrows again and a look that could probably kill.

“Peter, your education is important, and I understand if you need to take a step back and...”

“Shut up!”, Peter moaned and boxed Tony's arm. “Nazis are worse than geometry.”

“I know that”, Tony nodded, “but will your teachers understand?” As hard as he tried, Tony couldn't keep up the concerned facade and let the grin shine right through.

It did drop at Peter's counter-measurement, though.

“I'm gonna tell May that you haven't been nice to me.”

“I can't believe you”, Tony grumbled. Playing the woman-Tony-is-afraid-of-card? That was low.

“Thought so”, Peter grinned; that damn shit-eating grin that warmed Tony's heart and made him want to tousle those unruly curls. “So, how about some light engineering, before you brief me on tomorrow's mission?”

***

***

“Hi Pepper!” Before Tony had even realized her walking inside, Peter had already wrapped himself around her in greeting.

“Peter, really good to see you.”

“You too”, he beamed up at her.

“Should I leave you two be?”, Tony deadpanned, seeing that nobody seemed to realize or care that he was there, too.

Peter turned immediately bright-red, let go off Pepper and jumped a bit away.

“Drama Queen”, Pepper rolled her eyes, before smiling at Tony, that perfect, breath-taking smile, that still robbed him of his breath.

“Still said yes”, he beamed back. When that epitome of amazingness stood in front of him, Tony couldn't help it; he somehow was a lovestruck teenager again, who couldn't stop but smile at the wonder that was Pepper.

“Lucky you. Anyways, I was looking for the two of you.”

“What's up, then?”

“Crime Stats. Since you're legally an independent contractor to the Avengers and have therefore no real connection to SHIELD and we're your contact people it's on us to get that information to them.”

“Why?”, Peter asked, “are they trying to keep tabs on me?”

“In a way”, she admitted. “Though the are really mostly interested in the numbers and statistics; for transparency reasons. Those numbers will be published, and passed onto authorities, as was agreed in the Accords.”

“Huh. Alright”, he nodded, “but you can just get all the stats from KAREN.”

“Yeah, I just need a hand to sort through the masses of information, so I can turn her log into an official document, which is why I need you too.” Now she turned to Tony. “He's a minor and as his employer, you're the one to sign.”

“Why not May?”

“Because then we'll reveal a bit too much identity”, Peter explained in her place and locked eyes with Tony. He could see it clearly in Peter's face: he was not in the mood for that right now. And neither was Tony; they were about to head to the lab and work on a spider-suit update. He was just about to shrug at the kid, á la 'guess we'll have to go through this', when something in his look changed to downright mischievous. Even before the boy started to speak, Tony knew he was not gonna like what he was about to say.

“That sounds like just Tony would be enough”, he remarked and turned back to Pepper; the grin gone, instead he shot her his best puppy eyes. “It's just... You know, I have a lot of homework...”

That little shit. Tony knew for a fact that this was not true.

“Oh, of course”, Pepper nodded. “School stuff is more important.”

“You need help with that?”, Tony asked, shooting the kid a look, communicating all the 'you better get me out of this'.

“Nah, I'm good”, Peter grinned. “It's history homework, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, you don't want Tony's help with that.”

“Hey!” He turned to his still perfect fiancée, and even managed a reasonably angered glare. “I am a genius for a reason!”

“Sure you are, honey”, she smiled and patted his shoulder. “Come on, let's get to the crime stats and leave Peter to his homework.”

“Fine...” He followed Pepper out of the room but, just before the door closed, he turned one more time towards the very smug teen, who just waved after Tony.

Oh, he was so gonna get him back...

***

“Hi Mr Stark!”, Peter chirped as he skipped into the kitchen.

“Heya kiddo”, he grinned back and downed the rest of his coffee. “You ready?”

“I hope you are”, Happy answered instead of the boy. “I gotta take you to SHIELD; monthly meeting, remember?”

Shit, now he did. Ugh, Tony'd rather cuddle a cactus that sit in there, listen to Fury and Rogers go on about... Something, probably; Tony never paid attention. And, since that has never caused any issues whatsoever, he didn't really have to go there now, did he?

There was one way though, he might just get out of that.

“I honestly didn't remember, and I already promised Pete to help him with his homework.” He turned to the kid, who didn't quite get what Tony was playing at; understandably, since it had been their original plan to tinker around with Mark XVI. “Didn't you say it was for a grade?”

“Oh yeah”, Peter nodded, catching onto Tony's plan and unpacked the one sure-fire way to get Tony out of having to attend; the mightiest weapon the Avengers could offer: Peter's puppy eyes. “I really need his help to get this right.” For good measure he patted his bag.

“Fine”, Happy groaned, not really trying to fight the puppy eyes, “I'll get Rogers to excuse you.”

“Thank you so much”, Peter beamed, “you just saved my life.”

“Yeah, right”, he grumbled and, after nodding at Tony, he turned and walked out of the kitchen again.

“Thanks, Pete”, Tony smiled, “saved me a world of pain.”

“Not so sure about that...” The skew grin Peter shot him was... Tony wasn't sure.

“Out with it.”

“I do have homework, for a grade and I could do with some help. It's just in English...”

Oh fuck. The puppy eyes Peter had just shot in Happy's direction were now aimed at Tony. And English? Well, Tony knew how to speak it, but other than that... Besides, comparing poems and shit? Who the fuck had time for that?

“Fine. Let me see what you got.”

“Great”, he giggled. “So, it's basically choosing an important happenstance in my life and comparing it to a similar situation from a book. Issue is, most important things in my life are kinda arachnid-powered and I can't write about that, can I? I mean, Batman, right? Watching Uncle Ben being... you know, and then becoming a superhero... But secret identity.”

Peter didn't even give Tony the chance to interject, which he'd like to do, since the kid got more and more morbid.

“Then I thought Hamlet, because you know, my parents, but my Uncle isn't evil, so nope.”

Shit, that was depressing.

“Then I thought Frankenstein?”

“What, engineered superpowers and now everybody wants you dead?”

“Maybe?”

Tony just shook his head, and Peter jumped up with a groan.

“This sucks so much! You know, I could do Alice in Wonderland! But no, it's all top secret.”

“As I take it, you don't have to fit with an entire book.”

“Fine. Then I feel like Bilbo Baggins”, Peter continued. “Just want to be left alone, but no...”

“Come on, now, we're two certified geniuses, we can figure this out. What do you want to write about?” Maybe this way they would get somewhere.

“I mean, I don't want to write about my parents or Uncle Ben, because if I do, I'll be sent to see a shrink again.”

“Which isn't a bad thing...”

“Mr Stark, focus. If I write about getting together with MJ she'll dump me right away, and I don't want that. Then I thought about you know...” He turned away and started to blush. “About... meeting you.”

“Well, it is a world-changing happenstance”, Tony smirked.

“OMIGOD!”, he cried out, “I got it! My Fair Lady!” With an excited grin he beamed at Tony. “Because, well, you, scooping me up from the streets, teaching me the ropes, not the societal ones, but like engineering and shit. And superheroing, too, but again, nothing I can write about.”

“So, you're Eliza Doolittle?”

“Yeah!”

“And I'm Higgins?”

“I mean, sorta...”

“No”, Tony shook his head, “I'm not taking part in that.”

“Come on! It's perfect! And, like you said, I don't have to fit the entire book!”

Damnit, Peter might just have a point with that story. Him, tracking down the kid; Peter over and over showing up, literally nagging  Tony into becoming an official Avenger. And he did learn and work hard to improve. “I guess it fits. So fine. As long as you make it clear that I am not such an asshole towards you as Higgins is towards Eliza.”

“I will speak of you only in the highest reverence”, he grinned and got to his bag, to get out his pen and paper, softly humming: “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain...”

Oh, what the hell did Tony get himself into right now? Well, at least it was better than sitting at SHIELD.

***

Tony was spread out on the couch, waiting for Peter to finally pick up.

“Hi, sorry”, he chirped eventually, just before Tony was about to hang up. “Was just changing, couldn't answer.”

“So I don't need to take it personally, good”, he chuckled. “You civilian or vigilante right now?”

“I'm just myself, Peter Parker.”

“Right then, Peter Parker. I had an idea for an upgrade for your other personality, wanna come over and check it out?”

“Uhm, no, sorry, I can't.” All of a sudden, the giggles turned into almost nervous stuttering. “I... I got homework, you know?”

“Oh.” Tony didn't buy that. Not at all. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Tony still didn't buy it. “You need help?”

“Nope.”

“Right then.”

“I can come tomorrow, though and we can work on that upgrade then, ok?”

“Sounds great.”

“Perfect. See you!”

“Call ended”, FRI announced.

Huh. Peter was keeping things from Tony now? Yes, 'having homework' was their excuse for every kind of meeting they wanted to avoid, but Peter had never used it on Tony. Should he worry?

Tony could just track Peter's phone and be at where or whatever the kid hid from him. And then Peter would never trust Tony ever again.

Probably it was just some weird nerd stuff with his nerd friends, nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. This weird feeling in his stomach? Absolutely nothing that deserved another look at or that needed to be divulged in.

Only question: was Tony worried that the kid was in danger, or was he pissed that the kid kept it from him? Neither of those options were fair to Peter, though; he was old enough to make his own life choices and had every right to keep some things private, after all. If only Tony wasn't so curious...

.

“Hi Mr Stark!”, the kid beamed as he waltzed into the lab the next day with the widest grin on his face.

“Hey Pete.” Tony looked up to see him dance around Dum-E, before hugging Butterfingers and all but jumped over the workstation, landing right in front of Tony. “Wow, you're chipper.”

“Why wouldn't I be? Isn't the world just wonderful?”

“You really had fantastic homework yesterday, didn't you?”, Tony smirked at the teen that immediately turned beet-red.

“Uhm, yeah...”

“Kid, you're allowed to say no to me, you know that, right?” He put his hands on Peter's shoulders who looked up with wide eyes. “If 'having homework' is your way of doing that, I'm cool with it. Just don't feel like you have to lie to me; I can accept a no.”

“You sure?”, he grinned, still blushing, but a lot more cheeky now.

“I am. You wanna get to work then?”

Instead of giving an answer, Peter blurted out: “I was on a date!” He was somewhat embarrassed, somewhat proud, but mostly so damn smitten...

“I assume with Michelle?”, he smiled. The kid barely shut up about the amazingly smart captain of the Academic Decathlon Team, who was so badass and really funny and oh so pretty...

“Yeah”, he cooed and, if it was possible his entire face turned into one giant heart-eye. “We went to the Natural History Museum, they have an exhibition about Murderous Animals, like the serial killers of nature. Like Meerkats for example. They kill each other ten times more than humans kill each other! And like chinchillas, they're on fifth place. That's so weird, because they seem so adorable!”

“And your paramour liked that?”

“She loved it! It was like the perfect surprise.” Now it was pure pride that Peter exuded. “And then we got takeaway and watched the sunset from a roof top and it was so romantic.”

“Sounds absolutely perfect.”

“It was. And I'm sorry I said the homework thing... I just...”

“It's alright. Like I said, you don't have to justify yourself to me. Bigger question, though: Are you too caught in thoughts about your girlfriend or are you able to concentrate on not blowing us up?”

***

Tony thought he knew what pain and torture felt like after Afghanistan. But watching Peter like this, sorrowful and almost heart-broken, managed to top it off once more.

Today's patrol went absolutely disastrous. Tony hadn't managed to get the details out of the kid yet, but what he did gather was that during a bank robbery one civilian, trying to take down a robber, got shot, and that only moments before Peter had the chance to get there.

And now the kid was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, curled in the corner. All Tony could do was stay close, and he was ready to get or do anything Peter might need from him.

“Hey Tony.” Steve walked up and sat next to Tony on the couch. “How's he doing?”

Tony just shot him a stare á la 'what do you think', but didn't get the chance to say just that.

“He can hear you, you know?”, Peter grumbled from his blanket pile.

“Sorry, kid.”

“Yeah, whatever...”

“What's up?”, Tony turned to the super soldier, who should actually know better than to crowd Peter when he was upset; it had unfortunately happened a few too many times.

“We need his statement.”

The wince coming from the blanket pile was quiet but Tony clearly heard it.

“Seriously Rogers, now?”

“I know, I know. But if we don't get it signed now, we'll be in a lot of trouble with Ross and the Accords.”

Shit. Peter stayed silent, but he balled himself up even more if it was possible. There was no way in hell, Tony was gonna let anybody force Peter to do any official shit.

“Well, first of all, since he's a minor, his signature is useless anyways. And besides... Peter has homework.”

“Homework?” Steve creased his eyebrows, until he got it. “Oh, right”, he nodded, “homework. Yes, that's important, I agree. And yes, since he's not a legally grown-up, my signature should more than suffice. ”

“Thanks.”

Steve nodded, got up and, just before he walked out of the room, the blanket pile moved a little. “Thank you, Mr America.”

“Anytime, Pete.”

***

“Peter, good you're here”, Happy smiled at the bushel of brown curls that peaked out from a bunch of wires.

“What's up?”, he called and only then resurfaced.

“Meeting Room C. In five minutes.”

“Aw, shit”, he groaned.

Tony couldn't blame him, Meeting Room C meant that it was some politic representative from City Hall. And that equalled deathly boredom. Thank the heavens, Tony was no longer responsible for all that.

“Come on”, Happy urged him.

“Sorry, Hap, I can't”, he decided. “I've got homework.”

It was silent for a moment, then Tony burst out laughing. The kid grinned cheekily at Happy, who looked like he just wanted to quit.

“Peter. You're 25, you're no longer in school.”

“Sorry, kiddo”, Tony wheezed, “doesn't work any more.”

“Aw, man”, he moaned but still got up and begrudgingly followed Happy. “This sucks.”

***

“Seriously”, Tony groaned for the umpteenth, “time for bed!”

“No, it's not”, Peter decided, “I'm a grown-up, remember?”

“And I'm almost a grown-up!”, Morgan stated. That she was only 11 didn't seem to matter right now.

“I'm a grown-up, too”, Tony shot back. “And I'm tired, want to sleep and you crazy kids are keeping me up.”

“But Daaaad”, Morgan moaned, “I can't go to bed! I've got homework, and Petey has to help me!”

Oh fucking hell. Morgan and Peter looked up at Tony with the smuggest grins and damnit, Tony was not in the mood to start arguing with them.

“Peter Benjamin Parker. I thought that joke died with your graduation.”

“Clearly not”, he shot back.

“Right then.” The quickest and easiest way was just to play along. “Homework, and then bed.” He sat himself at the table and looked expectantly at his daughter, who started to blush. Peter on the other hand had to bite down hard to keep from laughing out loud.

“Ugh, fine.” Morgan rolled her eyes and got up. “Good night.” She leaned over and put a kiss on Peter's cheek.

“Was a nice try”, he chuckled. “Sleep well, sweetie.”

“Come on, Morgoona.” Tony held his hand out and, albeit with an anger glare (as intimidating as the anger glare of a tired 11-year-old could be), she took the outstretched hand. “Don't worry, tomorrow morning you and Peter can do all the homework the world can possibly offer.”

[bittysvalentines]

The Stranger the Better

From: @hockeydyke

To: @bitty-smol

Summary: Kent’s had a bad day and he figures date night with Bitty will improve his mood. But when Bitty watches a hot stranger get stood up, he decides to invite the man over to join him and Kent for the night. The only problem? Kent knows the guy.

Rating: T

Tags: Alternate universe- no one plays hockey, Established Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Kent “Parse” Parson, Eric “Bitty” Bittle/Kent “Parse” Parson/Jack Zimmermann, Misunderstandings

Kent hadn’t had the best day so far.

All things considered, though, he was doing a pretty good job of holding it together. In fact, he was actually proud that he hadn’t snapped at his boyfriend at all despite his bad mood, because he was still feeling rational enough to know that he didn’t actually want to push Bitty away or do anything to make things worse. Instead, he was trying to ignore it and go about his daily routine as usual.

And sure, maybe it wasn’t the best thing in the world for Kent to push down all his feelings and frustrations, but Bitty had a tendency to pick up the moods of the people around him, and Kent didn’t want to make Bitty grumpy just because he had the misfortune of being both physically and emotionally close to a particularly pissy Kent Parson on what could otherwise be an entirely pleasant Friday night.

So Kent had texted Bitty during work and suggested a low-key dinner date, because enchiladas and a couple happy hour drinks from Cactus Cantina across the street from their apartment certainly couldn’t make things worse. All Kent knew was that the place was casual, the dessert menu was up to Bitty’s standards, and the drink selection rotated often enough to keep him happy, so it was a win for both of them, and they usually ended up there at least once a week.

And that’s what brought Kent to where he was currently, sipping a half-priced strawberry swirl margarita and pouting because his boyfriend wasn’t paying attention to him. This was particularly offensive to Kent since Bitty was busy looking over Kent’s shoulder at some hot guy who’d sat down on the other side of the room around when they’d arrived. The nerve of it all. Sure, Kent and Bitty had an open relationship, but that didn’t mean that Kent never got jealous-- especially when he was two margs in and in need of attention as he tried to tell an entertaining story about Jenna from Marketing.

Bitty rested his chin on his hands and made heart eyes in the hot guy’s direction again, and Kent finally gave up and sighed as loudly as he could get away with in public. “Come on,” he said, sounding only slightly whinier than he’d intended. “Is this guy really that hot? You’ve been staring at him for ten minutes.”

He began to turn, but Bitty darted his hands out and grabbed the collar of Kent’s shirt to keep him from doing it. “I swear to god, Kent. Do not look at him right now. It’d be so obvious that we’re staring.”

Kent threw his hands in the air. “Alright, alright! I’m not looking, okay? You can describe him to me.” He stared in front of himself instead, at the turquoise accent wall and exposed brick and generic cactus-themed decor. “See, not looking, so paint me a damn picture. But make it a sexy picture, at least.”

Bitty leveled Kent with a stare. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, but he did take another good look over Kent’s shoulder. “He’s got gorgeous blue eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass. Honestly, he looks familiar. I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

“What kind of familiar?”

“Like, B-list reality TV star famous. Or maybe some kind of modeling? He has the bone structure for it. He’s easily the hottest person here, other than us, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Kent repeated. “And he’s seriously been alone this whole time?”

“Yes! The waitress has checked up on him, like, five times. Poor thing,” Bitty said, frowning. “Someone definitely stood him up. We should go see if he wants to come sit with us to take his mind off of it.”

“Are you kidding me? I bet he got stood up because he’s an asshole.”

“Kent.”

“What if he’s a serial killer?” Kent said, then sat up straighter and poked at Bitty’s forearm. “Even worse-- what if he’s the kind of guy who golfs on weekends?”

“Oh, shush. You’ve been such a grump today,” Bitty said, which, ouch, but true. Maybe Kent wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he thought, which was possibly something that he should talk to his therapist about. “We’re going to do something nice and we’re going to feel good about it.”

Feel good. A Freudian slip, or maybe a complete coincidence, but it was enough for Kent to jump to a conclusion that he felt pretty good about. He grinned.

“You just want us to have a threesome with him, don’t you?”

They stared each other down for a few moments. Bitty had a decent poker face, but Kent had known him for long enough to recognize the faint pink blush on his cheeks as a dead giveaway that he was right.

Finally, Bitty gave in. “Okay, fine, I think we should invite him home with us. But once you see him, you’re gonna agree with me. He’s exactly your type.” And before Kent could speak, he added, “Your other type, sweetheart. Not like me at all.”

“Big guy?”

“Mm,” Bitty hummed, gazing over Kent’s shoulder and nodding, chin resting in his hands again. “Thighs for days. Dark hair, very mysterious. Could definitely play a vampire in a movie, but like, a vampire who works out.”

“Fuck, okay. Invite him over,” Kent said, just as their waitress passed by again. While Bitty stood and headed out of Kent’s view, Kent waved her over so she could get him another margarita. She brought the drink out immediately. Kent was just lifting it up to his mouth for a sip when Bitty returned, smiling and bouncing on his toes as he sat back down across the table from Kent.

And then next to him, because Kent Parson’s life was a nightmare or at least a mildly uncomfortable stress dream, Jack Zimmermann sat down, looking stunningly handsome but also sheepish and shy right up to the moment when he met Kent’s eyes. Immediately, Jack’s annoyingly perfect face collapsed into a frown, looking for all the world like he’d seen a ghost.

At least, that’s what Kent felt like, because here was the same Jack Zimmermann who Kent had been moping about all day, after seeing on Facebook that morning that he’d moved back to town after more than five years away. Kent hadn’t seen him in person for nearly as long, since the last time he’d made a pitiful attempt to win Jack back at the Zimmermann family holiday party was just a month before he’d met Bitty. This was that Jack Zimmermann, back in his life without any warning.

It was all Kent could do not to spit out his entire mouthful of tequila and sugar, and the only reason he didn’t was because his shirt was white and he didn’t feel like spending his evening trying to remove a pink stain from it, but God, he wanted the drama of it.

Bitty dove right into introductions, seemingly unaware of Kent’s hopefully well-disguised mental and emotional crisis. “Jack, hon, this is my boyfriend, Kent. Kent, this is Jack. He just moved in across the street from here.”

Kent swallowed. His drink felt like it had gone stale in his mouth. “We’ve met,” he said, dry.

“Oh, really?” Bitty asked, looking up at Jack again, narrowing his eyes.

Jack didn’t say anything at all. Instead, while he sat there slack-jawed and wide-eyed, Kent had to explain what was going on. “This is Jack Zimmermann,” Kent said, trying to use his eyes to convey his sheer panic to Bitty. “I played hockey with him in high school,” he said, because that was easier than saying that Jack was the one who broke his heart, and anyway, Bitty knew the entire story and would be able to infer.

Bitty continued to force a smile. “Goodness! Well, I really walked right into that one, huh? No wonder you looked so familiar,” he said, patting Jack’s arm in a way that Kent knew was meant to be both comforting, but actually made Jack look like he was about to implode.

“Eugh,” Jack started, helpful as ever, and something about his rich tenor made Kent’s blood feel warm. It was also possible that the tequila had just hit. “I can go. I don’t want to, um, upset anyone. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to! We’d still be glad to have you join us,” Bitty said. “I know that Kent has so much he’d love to talk to you about, and I’m sure it’s the same on your end of things!”

“Bits,” Kent hissed. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been betrayed this badly. Bitty was definitely sleeping on the couch tonight, but he couldn’t say that right now, because that would probably look bad in front of Jack.

Kent didn’t want that, probably. In fact, he wasn’t at all sure what exactly he did want from Jack now, at this point in his life, at age 25 and happy with his boyfriend, job, cat, apartment, and basically every other aspect of life that showed that he had proudly moved on from Jack Zimmermann.

And yet Kent couldn’t help but let his mind drift to how happy he was that he hadn’t had time to change after work, because he looked pretty damn good in his slacks and button-down. He wasn’t wearing a hat, but he had spent a very long time in front of the restroom mirror touching up his hair after his lunch break, so he felt pretty confident that it looked good right now. Comparatively, this was a much better way of running into Jack than, say, running into him during a late-night grocery run when Kent was wearing ratty sweatpants and a shirt with a picture of his cat on it.

Kent thought he looked okay. And he did want Jack to know that he was okay.

Jack was still frowning, and the worry lines in his forehead and around his eyes were deeper than they used to be. His eyes were also, somehow, so much more blue than Kent remembered, as if time had somehow erased their intensity. After a moment, Jack cleared his throat, stilted and awkward, and said the one thing that could convince Kent to give this a shot: “I’ve missed you.”

It was too much.

“Yup,” Kent said, standing up fast enough to knock into the table and jostle it, loudly shifting the plates and glasses and fake cactus on top of it. “I gotta hit the bathroom. Bitty?”

Bitty stood, much more graceful, and slid out of the booth. “It seems like I also have to use the restroom. Stay here and we’ll be right back,” he said, and something in his tone was commanding enough that Jack obediently remained seated and didn’t argue.

Kent pushed through the main room of the restaurant and back to the hallway where the restrooms were located and closed the door once he and Bitty were both in the one-stall men’s bathroom. He took stock of the situation: shockingly he wasn’t having a panic attack, but he was still feeling thrown off and almost dazed.

“I think I’m in shock. Could I literally be in medical shock right now? Am I crying?” he said to his own reflection in the mirror, eyes wet and hair wild. His hair had cowlicks, it seemed, remained tamed. Over his shoulder, he could see mirror-Bitty facepalm, then move closer so he could pat Kent’s shoulder.

“Kent, honey,” Bitty started, then paused as Kent leaned over the sink and splashed water in his face, hoping to refresh himself. “I love you, but you really have zero common sense. You’re getting your shirt all wet.”

“Good!” Kent said. “Does it look like I’m crying? Because I’m totally not crying.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been crying because you’ve basically trained yourself not to cry properly, which is absolutely not healthy, but I’m not going to lecture you about it right now,” Bitty said. “But even if you were, it’d be fine! I’m sure he’s freaking out just as much as you are right now!”

“Is this a pep talk, or are you trying to make me feel guilty?” Kent asked. “Because I don’t feel guilty. He ignored me for years, Bits. It never meant anything to him.”

“Kenny.” Bitty grabbed Kent by the shoulders. Kent could feel them flex and press into his shirt as Bitty raised up slightly onto his toes. It was a habit he’d developed from years of trying to close their three-inch height difference, and the familiarity of it lulled Kent’s pulse to a more reasonable pace. “You’ve been wanting closure with him for as long as I’ve known you. I know he broke your heart. But you’re both adults now and I think you’re finally mature enough to talk about it, so why don’t we give it a try?”

Kent leaned forward until Bitty understood what he wanted and wrapped his arms around him in a proper hug. He sighed. “Yeah, okay. Even though I hate it when you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Bitty said, giving Kent’s back one final pat and then gently pushing him back out of the restroom and into the main floor of the restaurant.

For the first time, Jack smiled. “Did you spill a glass of water on your shirt?” he asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kent said. “What really matters is that my boyfriend thinks you’re hot. Can you buy him a drink and also explain why the fuck you’re back in town?”

“Oh,” Jack started, then faltered. “I guess, I-- well. I got a new job.” He took a deep breath, then turned to Bitty. “Sorry, what would you like to drink?”

“Just a regular margarita, thank you,” Bitty said, sliding into the booth next to Jack. “So, Mr. Zimmermann. Please tell us all about this new job of yours.”

And so Jack did. Kent was quiet during their first round of drinks, listening and watching and learning about this new, older Jack Zimmermann. He was still reserved and still a little bit slow on the uptake when it came to the jokes and slang that Kent and Bitty easily tossed around, but he also cracked a few jokes of his own, which was something he never used to do when they were teenagers. He was more relaxed, too: although Kent spent several minutes watching Jack’s hands, he didn’t see them shake at all.

Their conversation flowed easily enough that two hours passed without Kent noticing. He only realized that it was close to ten-- closing time-- that their waitress had started to hover around the table, pacing at the edge of Kent’s line of vision. At ten, she shuffled up to the table, but didn’t say anything yet. The girl was young, probably in high school, and Kent felt bad for her. He’d hated waiting tables, too, back when he’d done it in college. He looked at Bitty, then at the waitress, trying to subtly let him know that it was time to go.

Bitty nodded, and then, under the table, kicked Kent. It was all Kent could do to keep from yelping, but he somehow managed it and shot a glare in Bitty’s direction, thankful that Jack was oblivious and rambling happily about his photography. Bitty kicked Kent again. Clearly, it was up to him to decide how they were going to end the night.

“Alright,” Kent said, before his leg had to sustain any more damage. He waved the waitress closer and motioned for the check. “How about we move this to our place? You can meet my cat, Zimms.”

Jack looked up. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he said, accepting the check and sliding his card into the holder before either of them could stop him. It was a convenient way for him to avoid eye contact.  “I don’t know if you want anything like that, and if you want to just ignore me so we go back to pretending each other doesn’t exist, I could get over that too.”

“But,” Bitty prompted, kicking Kent again.

“But I’d like it if you’d come home with us,” Kent said, finally looking up from where he’d been fidgeting with his debit card.

It was dim in the restaurant this late at night, the colorful string lights and candles doing little against the dark outside, but Jack’s eyes were shining. He nodded, thoughtful. “This was nice. I’d like that too.”

“Thank God,” Bitty said. “Okay, let’s get out of here. I’m dying to get out of my work clothes,” he said, giving Jack a wink that made him choke on his last sip of the single pint of beer he’d been nursing all night.

As they left the restaurant, Jack and Kent walked on either side of Bitty, who looked as pleased as the cat who’d gotten the cream. “Told you we’d feel good about this,” he said, knocking his hips against Kent’s own and smiling, and that’s when Kent realized what should have occurred to him the moment that Bitty invited Jack over to their table.

That little shit knew who Jack was all along.

“Oh, man,” he said, throwing his arm around Bitty’s shoulder. He nuzzled his nose against Bitty’s ear before blowing in it and laughing when Bitty squealed. “You’re lucky I love you.”

[whereisten]

Hero, Yuta, & Me

Summary: Your pet sitting job lands you at the doorstep of the magnetic Yuta Nakamoto, owner of the cutest Shiba Inu on the planet, Hero. 

Multi-part series: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Part 1

Word Count: 2,021 words

You were getting ready for the day, brushing your hair in front on your vanity. Your mom was visiting your grandparents down south while your dad and younger brothers were at Disney World. Those lucky bastards. You regretted not going with them but you were saving up for a Korean pop convention that was coming up in the summer. And you just landed a pretty sweet gig with your pet sitting job, Read It and Woof.

The owner, Yuta Nakamoto, lived in Miami Beach in a nice townhouse. He was the owner of a Shiba Inu named Hero. You were psyched because you had never seen a Shiba in the flesh. Mr. Nakamoto was going on a business trip so he needed someone to spend the weekend at his place, looking after Hero.

You parked in Mr. Nakamoto’s driveway, seeing his black Dodge Challenger’s trunk popped open. The front door was slightly ajar. You grabbed your bag out of the backseat and shut the door.

You heard a bark and whipped around to see a black and tan Shiba Inu sitting before you and you nearly crumble.

“Hi!” You greet the pup. “You must be Hero.”

Hero got up and started sniffing at your sneakers. All the while his tail was wagging. You laughed.

“Y/N.”

You looked back up to see the most beautiful boy you’d ever laid eyes on and nearly roll your eyes at the cliche that just popped into your head. He was a stunner. He was a legend. He was a god. Mr. Nakamoto was dressed in business professional attire of a finely tailored gray suit. His dark brown hair was slicked back and your breathing hitched. His brown eyes were sharp and captivating. And-

Cool it, Y/N. He may have a Shiba and he may be hot as fuck. But you gotta reel it in.

“Mr. Nakamoto?” You asked.

He smirked. “Call me Yuta. It’s really nice to meet you. Can I take your bag?”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You shook your head when you saw him reach his arm out to grab your Captain Marvel themed bag. Your bag wasn’t that heavy. “Oh, that’s okay. I got it.”

He nodded. “I’ll show you around. Thanks for coming so early.”

And suddenly you forgot that you were cursing yourself for taking the gig since you had to wake up at 5:30 AM to get ready so you can meet Yuta at 7:30 AM. Miami traffic was merciless even at 6:30 in the morning.

“It’s fine,” you said.

Yuta opened the front door and said, “After you.”

Hero ran in right after and you could hear the pitter pat of his feet and grinned. Dogs were effortless in making people laugh. That’s one of the things you loved most about them.

Dog toys were all over the wooden floor. Including a soccer ball. Three different pairs of shoes were placed beside the door. There was a lot of wooden furnishings and there were a couple of sliding doors. You noted that the interior of the house was very reminiscent of Japanese interior design.

“This is a really nice place you got here,” you said.

Yuta laughed. “You don’t have to lie. It’s a mess. I’m sorry about that. But Hero likes it that way.”

“Oh I don’t think it’s fair to pin it all on Hero.”

Hero was right on Yuta’s heels, staring up in adoration at his owner. You could feel their connection to each other and you knew that Yuta really loved him. Yuta looked down at Hero and rubbed his head.

“Maybe you’re right,” Yuta said as he looked back up at you. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I made scrambled eggs.”

“Sounds good. I don’t want to keep you, though.” You remembered he had a flight to catch soon. Miami International Airport was very unforgiving.

Yuta’s eyes grew noticeably bigger. “Oh, yeah. Well, the tour’s quick. You got all of my instructions via email anyway. If you have any questions at any time, don’t hesitate to text. I can only take phone calls after 10 at night since my meetings are running late this weekend. I apologize.”

“It’s no problem.”

Yuta smiled. “If you’ll follow me.” He walked you down the hall and showed you the different rooms in the house. Hero was allowed to roam as he pleased. He usually liked to sleep in Yuta’s bed but he also had a bed in the living room. And a bed in the kitchen because Yuta sometimes liked to get a midnight snack and it was almost as if Hero knew that. Then, Hero would seize the opportunity to guilt trip Yuta into giving him something to munch on.

You were living for Yuta’s anecdotes.

“So the last door on the left is my room, which Hero can sleep in. But I’m pretty sure he’ll be with you. If you don’t mind keeping your room open. Which brings me to the guest room,” Yuta said.

He pushed the sliding door open and revealed a comfortable floor bed with a floor desk that had a cute little cactus and lamp on it.

“If you’d like extra blankets, the linen closet has a lot. Go nuts.” He laughed.

“Thanks, Yuta. I really appreciate it.” Most of your clients were nice people. Some were a little chaotic. But then, by the grace of God, you stumbled on a miracle.

You and Yuta walked back to the entrance.

“Well, I’m off,” Yuta said, “Thanks again for doing this, Y/N.” A strand of his hair fell into his eyes and he tucked it behind his ear. You imagined him doing that to your hair and you blushed, feeling guilty over fantasizing about a client you’d only see once more when he came back to make sure you didn’t kidnap Hero.

You nodded. “You’re welcome...Uh, safe travels...Yeah.” Lord, help you.

He gave you a knowing smile. He had to be aware of the effect he had on people. Whatever his line of work, he was probably the most magnetic person there.

“Bye,” he said in a playful tone. He knelt down and pet Hero. “You be good, alright?” Hero barked. The first time you heard him today.

10

You sat on the couch with Hero watching the news. Taking care of Hero consisted of taking him on a walk a couple of times a day. Taking him to the dog park this afternoon since Saturday afternoons were for dog park visits. Feeding him his meals. Giving him some treats as you said the commands Yuta suggested in his email. “Sit”, “play dead”, and “grab the remote”. You laughed at that last one.

You wondered how Yuta was doing. You thought it was funny that you were even thinking about him that way when you only talked to him for at most twenty minutes. There was no question you wanted to get to know him better.

Hero laid his head on your lap when you were texting your group chat that you shared with your three girlfriends: Joanna, Taissa, and Kaia.

HowRU Group Chat: We Clowned Clowns

Joanna: So how’s it going with the Shibs?

You: It’s good. His name’s Hero. Have contemplated kidnapping him. The owner’s really nice.

Kaia: Oh?

Taissa: That’s the first time you said an owner was nice so...you mean he’s NICE.

You: Yes.

Kaia: What aren’t you saying, Y/N?

Joanna: She likes him. He’s hot, isn’t he?

Taissa: Do you have pictures?

You: Sure in the 20 minutes we were together, I got 200 candids. Of course not!

Kaia: Can you tell us about him at least?

You: Dreamy. Slicked back brown hair. Brown eyes that basically hug you. Excellent cheekbones. A smile that will make you go blind if you look too long. About 5’9 if I had to compare his height to Kaia’s.

Joanna: So he’s short

Taissa: Not for Y/N and me. No.

Kaia: He’s short.

You: I’m gonna continue. His house is really nice. Japanese style. Wooden floor. I get to walk around in my bare feet. He keeps the place really tidy, even with all the dog toys.

Taissa: You need to snatch him up, Y/N.

You: I don’t think I can.

Joanna: Don’t go into a spiel about how you’re not good enough. I will not allow it. You are more than good enough for any man you want. Go for it.

Kaia: Yes, Y/N! Ask him out!

Taissa: Maybe he’ll even beat you to it! But think about it!

You: Read It and Woof doesn’t encourage fraternization between employee and client.

Taissa: Boo, those whores.

Even if Yuta was interested, the company was strict about dating. Maybe there was some leniency if you never worked for Yuta again. But that’s a huge maybe. And you liked your part-time job. You needed it to save up before you applied to get your Master’s. And you liked Hero and definitely wanted to see him again.

The same could be said about his owner.

You sighed and decided to order some pizza. Hero was eating his kibble for dinner when the doorbell rang. You checked the peephole and saw it was the pizza delivery girl. She looked very made-up with mascara and lipstick for someone who was delivering pizzas.

You opened the door and saw that the girl’s hopeful expression faded.

She said, deadpan, “Large pepperoni with stuffed cheesy bread?”

You nodded.

She handed you the merchant copy of the receipt to sign. You did. You handed her three bucks as her tip. She handed you the pizza and cheesy bread.

“So, are you his girlfriend?” She asked.

“What?” You frowned in confusion.

Then, you remembered you weren’t at your own house. You were at Yuta’s.

“Oh! No, I’m not. I’m pet sitting.”

The girl’s face became hopeful again and she looked less hostile. “Oh, okay! Well, have a good night!”

Well, that was fun.

You sat down at the kitchen table and enjoyed your meal. You decided to explore the house a little bit more.

You looked carefully at the walls and saw some photographs of Yuta and his family. He posed with two girls you guessed were his sisters. They were at Universal Studios Japan and hanging out with the minions. You smiled at Yuta’s very animated face. There was another formal picture of Yuta with his parents and who you now confirmed were his sisters. They all looked regal in their formal wear. You saw another picture of a younger Yuta playing soccer. That would explain the soccer ball in the living room, after all. You continued down the line and saw what you thought was a very recent picture of Yuta posing with his team:

The national Japanese soccer team.

And then you looked at the next picture and recognized David Beckham. Beckham was shaking hands with Yuta. The Inter Miami CF logo was at the bottom right corner of the photograph.

Whoa.

Yuta was an international soccer player. Your inner thirteen-year-old was screeching.

Hero’s pitter pats were getting closer and he stood by you.

You knelt down and pet him. “Hero, why didn’t you tell me Yuta was a soccer star?”

Hero nuzzled against your hand.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket. Yuta texted you.

Maybe I needed to change his contact name. It sounded...suggestive. Mr. Nakamoto will see you now.

HowRU Group Chat: With Mr. Nakamoto

Mr. Nakamoto: Hey. How’s it going? Did Hero trash the place yet?

You: Hi! It’s going well. Hero’s been a good doggo. How are things?

Mr. Nakamoto: That’s good to hear. It’s been stressful but it looks like things are going to work out.

You: How mysterious.

Mr. Nakamoto: It’s pretty boring, actually. But if all goes well, I get to stay in Miami for a long while.

You: I hope it does.

Mr. Nakamoto: Me, too :)

You debated bringing up what you discovered of Yuta but weren’t sure how to proceed with it. 

Hey Yuta, by the way, why didn’t you tell me you were a soccer sensation? 

Or...

Hey, Yuta, do you like Messi?

You decided to drop it. Maybe he’d mention it to you. Maybe he wouldn’t.

It would all depend on whether you guys would see each other again after the weekend was over.

Part 2 (Coming Soon)

[eddiesasspbrak]

When I’m With You Ch. 11

Eddie can’t stand the barista at his favorite coffee shop. Richie has fallen in love with the man he sees twice a week. Stan is dating someone but won’t let his friends meet them. Ben is in love with Beverly, but is so afraid of scaring her away he’s not moving forward. Chaotic friends navigating college together. 

(unedited chapter)

Ch. 1

Ch. 12

Read on AO3

5k+ words

Eddie woke up to the smell of bacon and the sound of low music coming from his kitchen. He sat up on the couch, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The blanket fell to his lap and all at once Eddi remembered why he was sleeping there. He and Richie must have fallen asleep while watching movies the night before. Not a terrible way to end the day, though Eddie was bound to have some back and neck pain from sleeping on the couch again.

Stretching, he stood from the couch and headed to the kitchen entrance. Richie was at the stove, cooking, music coming from his phone on the counter beside him. Eddie leaned against the door frame and watched him for a second, a smile on his face. No one had ever cooked breakfast for him before, besides his mother of course. The thought caused his chest to tighten and swell.

He crossed the room to Richie, leaning his hip against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Richie took his eyes away from the pan of bacon for a second to smile at him. His curls were messier than usual, a few rogue strands falling in front of his eyes.

“Morning.” He leaned down to kiss Eddie, but he stopped him with a hand over his mouth.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“Doesn’t bother me.”

“It’s gross.” He crinkled his nose.

“I don’t think anything about you could possibly be gross.”

Flustered, Eddie quickly changed the subject. “You really want to attempt cooking again after the spaghetti fiasco?”

“That spaghetti was still mostly edible.” Richie chuckled. “Breakfast food is actually something I’m good at. I ran to my apartment earlier and grabbed a few things. Your fridge is surprisingly scarce. How do you take your eggs?”

“Over easy and I order out a lot. As you saw, I’m not the best cook even with the easy things.”

“I cook most nights. You can start eating dinner with me.”

Eddie’s smile grew partially from the thought of having dinner with Richie every night, and partially because a bit of grease popped up on his fingers and he let out a string of curses. He was still grinning when he turned to Eddie and held up his middle finger. Both to flip him off and to show where the grease had landed, making his skin red.

“Kiss it better?” Richie asked.

Eddie rolled his eyes, but grabbed his hand anyway, bringing it to his lips. Richie took that moment to swoop in and press a kiss to his mouth, ducking away before Eddie could react. He stared at him wide eyed, having not expected that sneak attack.

“You should really brush your teeth.” Richie chuckled.

“Go fuck yourself.” Eddie said, smacking his hand away. Another pop of grease landed on Richie’s hand and when he looked to Eddie, all he said was, “You deserve it.”

Richie informed Eddie that he had the day off as they ate, and they made plans to spend the day together. After breakfast and cleaning the dishes together, Richie returned to his apartment to shower and get ready while Eddie did the same in his own. He didn’t know what Richie had in mind, he refused to tell him, but he insisted they’d spend the entire day together as neither had anything else they needed to do.

When Eddie was finished getting ready, he headed down the hall to Richie’s. He still wasn’t comfortable with the mouse, that would take a long time, but he at least had to expose himself to his place. Richie had informed him that even Ben had held Penny. He agreed to work up to it. Baby steps. He knocked on the door feeling stupidly anxious. There was no reason to be. It was just an apartment. The apartment of his new boyfriend. In the same building. It probably looked identical to his own, though expected it to be a hell of a lot messier. He’d deal with that panic attack when he came to it.

A second later, Richie was opening the door, hair wet and smile in place. He stepped aside for Eddie to enter and he was pleasantly surprised. He’d prepared for chaos, but it really wasn’t that bad. Maybe a little disorganized but not terribly so. It would probably drive Stan crazy, but it wasn’t enough to set Eddie off. He had a serious lack of furniture though. There was a small table with two chairs pushed up against the windows, the sides folded down to make it smaller for space. On either wall across from it were standing shelves, scattered with books, pictures, plants and knickknacks. The TV was propped on top of an old wooden crate with what appeared to be a peach painted on the side, the words too faded to read. There was no couch, instead there were beanbags and a swinging chair hanging from the ceiling that Eddie didn’t think seemed safe.

Eddie compared it to his own apartment, which was largely furnished by his mother. When she’d cosigned on the apartment for him, she’d taken him to buy new furniture giving her opinion where it wasn’t wanted. Because of that, all of his things were new and nice, and his place was so clean. Meanwhile, Richie’s looked lived in. Eddie could easily see an older couple both in finance living in his apartment, only using it to sleep. Richie’s apartment felt warm, more like a home than a setup that a realtor put in place. It kind of made him feel embarrassed of his own place.

“Make yourself at home.” Richie said, closing the door and heading back toward, what Eddie assumed was, the bedroom.

Eddie didn’t trust the hanging chair and the thought of the beanbags kind of grossed him out, so he made his way to the table and pulled out one of the chairs. The table was partially covered in mail but otherwise clutter free. Eddie looked up at the shelf beside him and examined the pictures both in frames and just propped up against things. There were some with Bev, some with Bill and Mike. One had an older couple that he assumed were his parents. It was in the nicest frame on the shelf. It occurred to Eddie then that he didn’t have a single picture on display at his place and thought he should fix that. It’s not like he didn’t have pictures with friends. He even had some from high school with Stan and Ben tucked away somewhere.

There was a plant Eddie couldn’t identify on the top shelf, tendrils hanging down and twisting around the metal sides of the shelves. It looked well cared for. A small cactus sat on a lower shelf in a small terracotta pot with flowers painted in different colors around the top. Across on the other shelf, was one of those little glass and stone fountains where the water fell like rain inside. Next to it was a small bonsai tree, though Eddie couldn’t tell if it was real or fake. Part of him wanted to explore the apartment, see what the rest of it looked like, but he’d have to wait until his next visit.

Richie emerged from the hallway, hair slightly dryer and shoes on. Eddie watched him move about the room and realized that he liked seeing him in his own environment. He’d seen him at the café, at bars, at his own place but this place was so very Richie. Eddie weirdly felt like he was getting a peak into Richie’s life. He’d told him a bit about himself already, but Richie hadn’t really spoken about himself much. He moved getting to know more about him to the top of his to do list. Now that he wasn’t denying his feelings anymore, he wanted to know everything he could about the man he was infatuated with.

“Ready to go?” Richie asked, turning to Eddie as he put his coat on.

“Yep.”

Eddie stood and followed Richie out the door, waiting for him to lock up. Richie wasted no time before grabbing hold of his hand heading down the hall to the elevator. Eddie didn’t mind. He thought it was cute that he wanted to hold his hand while they walked. Plus, he liked it. Liked being wanted, that he wanted to touch him in any small way. Show strangers that they passed on the streets that they were together. Eddie felt silly for feeling that way, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always wanted to feel that way with someone.

“So, where are we going?” Eddie asked as they exited the building onto the street.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Why does that make me not want to trust you?”

“You offend me, Eds. I promise you’ll have fun.”

“Yea, still don’t trust you.”

Richie laughed and briefly tightened his fingers around Eddie’s hand. “I’ll make you a deal, if you have fun then you have to trust me from now on, but if you hate it, I’ll let you plan all our dates from here on out.”

“So, this is a date then?” Eddie asked, feeling just a little smug.

“Our third I believe.”

“Second and a half. The first one didn’t start as a date.”

“Fine then. Two and a half dates in one week must be some kind of record though.”

“I think Ben and Bev probably hold the record. They’ve spent like every day together since last weekend.”

“Unfair advantage, they’ve been dating longer than we have.”

“Though you kissed me before they got together though.”

“Technicality.”

Eddie laughed and bumped his arm against Richie’s. It baffled him how he used to find his wit annoying. That felt worlds away now and Eddie was glad he’d moved past it. It was funny, really, how your entire outlook changes when you fall for someone. He was still annoying, for sure. Eddie just found it cute and charming now. He was making himself sick just thinking about it, he couldn’t imagine how a third party would react to his inner monologue about Richie. It was like Ben whenever he talked about Bev. He would be annoyed with himself.

When Richie came to a dead stop, Eddie didn’t notice until his hand was pulled back. He looked back at Richie, who was looking up at the building before them. Eddie turned to the building, a big block of a building with no windows and blackout glass doors. Above the doors was an obnoxiously bright orange sign.

“Ladies and the Tramps?” Eddie read the sign before eyeing Richie quizzically.

“Yep.”

“Where the hell did you take me? Some sex club based around cartoon dogs?”

Richie laughed, pulling Eddie toward him until he could grab his other hand as well. “Only the best for my Spaghetti.” He said before leaning in for a drawn-out kiss, making Eddie forget for a second where they were.

“Where are we really?” Eddie asked after breaking away from the kiss.

“An indoor trampoline park. Not as much fun as a sex club, but pretty close. It’s owned by this awesome couple and their daughter works here too. Hence whole ‘Ladies and the Tramps’ thing.”

“What the hell is an indoor trampoline park?”

“Come on.” Richie released one hand and dragged Eddie with the other toward the double doors.

The inside was just as brightly colored as the sign, only this was done in a rainbow of practically neon colors that hurt Eddie’s eyes. To one side was a wall of tiny lockers as well as some larger ones near the end. The other side of the room had a desk with a bored looking teenager staring down at her phone. She looked tired.

“Hey Jen, slow today?” Richie asked as they approached the counter.

“So far. No one comes in this early. Except for you. Freak.” She grinned, perking up considerably.

“Is that anyway to speak to your favorite customer?”

“You’re hardly my favorite. Who’s the new guy?” She looked Eddie over with a critical eye and he suddenly felt exposed for some reason.

“Just some hot tail I scored.” Richie winked at Eddie and he hated him for it.

“Fuck you it’s barely been five days. I can still back out.” Eddie said, attempting to pull his hand free. Richie refused to let go and after a second, Eddie gave up. He didn’t really want to let go anyway.

“Boyfriend?” Jen asked.

“Best one yet.” Richie tugged on Eddie’s hand, making him take a step closer to his side. “Either of your moms around?”

“Yea, mama Rose is in the tramp room. Go on in. Shoes off.” She pulled a lock from beneath the desk and set it on the counter

Richie thanked her and grabbed the lock before pulling Eddie toward the lockers. He followed Richie’s lead and took his shoes off, stacking them on top of his in the small locker. They also added their wallets, keys and phones. Anything that could potentially be dropped and lost beneath the trampolines or in the foam pits. Richie reassured him that Jen had all the keys kept safe and the front room was never left unattended. Despite what he’d said earlier, he really did trust him, so he piled all of his things inside the tiny locker and watched him lock it up tight. Their coats were hung on one of the hooks hanging on the wall near the counter.

Reclaiming Eddie’s hand, Richie headed through a second set of double doors. Eddie didn’t know what he had been expecting but it wasn’t…this. The entrance and surrounding most of the center, was foam flooring. Beyond that was a set of stairs leading up to endless trampolines in different shapes and sizes all fit together like a puzzle. There were two pits fill of foam cubes off to the two sides with platforms and a rope hanging from the ceiling.

“Ever been on a trampoline?” Richie asked, taking in his awed expression.

“Are you kidding? My mom would have had an aneurism.”

“Well mommy isn’t here.”

Eddie allowed himself to be pulled once more toward the trampolines, smiling. “Please don’t ever call her ‘mommy’ again.” He laughed.

Near the stairs was an older woman with a broom, sweeping up a small pile of dust and general debris that collected on floors. Richie waved as they approached and she grinned nice and wide at him.

“Rich, it’s been a while!” She said, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Hey Rosy. Things have been hectic with school and work. Not much time for anything else.” Richie sighed, looking up at the trampolines.

“Except dating?” She asked, giving Eddie the same once over her daughter had.

“He’s a special exception. Started as one of our regulars at the café. This is Eddie.”

Eddie felt his face warming and wondered if he was blushing. He hoped not. It just felt weird being talked about like that as if he weren’t there in front of them.

“Is that so? Well nice to meet you Eddie.” Eddie shyly returned the sentiment. “We’ve got a birthday renting the place at 5, but until then we’re open for anyone. You’ve got the place to your self for a while. Enjoy boys.”

With that, she took the broom and dustpan full of dirt and headed toward the double doors, leaving them alone in the large room. Everything echoed in there, the ceilings exceptionally high. Richie finally let go of Eddie’s hand as they climbed the short set of stairs up to the trampolines. He didn’t hesitate to step onto the bouncy woven nylon, but Eddie found himself a bit anxious. It was stupid. It was just something to bounce on and it was surrounded by foam. It was his mother’s voice in his head, and he shook it away when Richie reached his hand out. Eddie took his offered hand and stepped onto the surface of the trampoline.

It was a bit slippery in his socks, but not terribly so. Richie was grinning, watching Eddie’s face closely.

“You ready?” He asked, expectantly.

“It’s just…jumping right?” Eddie asked. Of course, it was. It’s not like he hadn’t seen others on a trampoline. He was just stupidly nervous.

Instead of answering, Richie began to bounce slightly, smiling like a dork with raised eyebrows. Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled as Richie began to jump, Eddie joining him a second later. Growing up, Eddie had always known that his mother was too overprotective. Controlling. She never let him have fun and had drilled it all into his head. It had taken so long to even start the process of clearing her voice from his head whenever he did something even slightly reckless. When he’d lost control for a bit, his first fear was that she would find out. It was always a fear. As long as he relied on her for anything, he would be afraid. He just had to make it through college without incident and then he’d be free.

In the meantime, he clutched at any little taste of freedom he could get. Being with Richie was freedom, ice skating was freedom, jumping on trampolines with him was freedom. It was enough for now.

Eddie watched Richie show off like a child and loved every second of it. He jumped until he was high enough to do flips and Eddie sat cross legged on the trampoline surface, never taking his eyes off of him. He tried to convince Eddie to give it a try, but Eddie was convinced he’d wipe out and didn’t want to embarrass himself. He promised to try when he was more comfortable with the trampolines in general.

However, Richie was able to convince him to try out the rope. He easily swung across to the platform on the other side, sending the rope back to Eddie. Despite his mother’s insistence that he was weak and fragile, gym class had always been a favorite of Eddie’s. He liked to run, and he was the first one in their class to reach the top of the rope in sixth grade. Holding the rope tightly between his hands, he pushed off the platform and jumped off the platform, wrapping his legs around the rope. He swung across, joining Richie on the other side.

“That was kind of hot.” Richie said, grabbing Eddie around the waist.

“Oh yea?” Eddie leaned in as if going for a kiss, but before their lips touched, he was shoving Richie backward, into the foam pit below. He followed him in, jumping from the platform.

“You tease!” Richie called from somewhere in the foam, struggling to get upright.

Eddie laughed, watching his efforts as he lounged comfortably amongst the foam. He wasn’t even thinking about how many kids probably peed in there. Well, not entirely anyway.

“Hey, how do you know the owners so well?” Eddie asked, taking the chance to ask while Richie was distracted.

“My first job when I moved out here.” He explained, making his way through the foam toward Eddie.

“You worked at ‘Ladies and the Tramp’?”

“I was an honorary lady. They took pity on me, I think. My family doesn’t have much, so I was pretty desperate for a job. I was hitting the pavement, familiarizing myself with the local businesses. They let me in for free when I told Rose I didn’t have any money. We talked about everything and I guess they liked me. Hired me on the spot.”

“Is that how you learned all those little flips?” Eddie asked, draping his arms around Richie’s shoulders when he got close enough.

“Jen taught me. She used to do gymnastics before she got bored of it and took to music instead. I’d help her with homework, and she’d show my flips.”

“You helped with homework? Did she fail?” Eddie grinned.

“I’ll have you know, I’m extremely smart. She passed algebra thanks to me.”

“Oh yea? Smart guys are pretty hot.”

Richie closed the remaining distance between them, smiling against his lips. His hands found their way to Eddie’s waist below the foam, pulling him flush against him. He pressed his tongue past Eddie’s lips and relished in the fact that he’d already become so comfortable kissing him. He didn’t hesitate to tangle his own tongue with Richie’s like he had before. Richie was vaguely aware that this wasn’t the place to get hot and heavy, but they were alone, and he just couldn’t resist. He wished he could take Eddie home and throw him on his bed, but he had to show impulse control until Eddie was ok with it. It was going to be a long, painful road as long as Eddie kept stirring up.

“Excuse me sir, there’s no kissing in the foam pit.” A voice from up above them on the platform brought them both back to reality quickly.

Eddie pushed Richie away from him as much as he could. They were both flushed, though if it was from the kiss or being caught, they weren’t sure. A different woman than before was looking down at them, a big smile on her face.

“Hey Kara.” Richie said, pushing his hair back with one hand, waving with the other.

“Richie. Having fun, I see.”

“Always have fun here.”

Richie headed to the edge of the foam pit, Eddie following behind him. Once at the edge, Richie lifted himself out, sitting on the wall, pulling Eddie hum a second later to join him.

“Kara, this is Eddie. Eddie, this Kara. Rose’s wife.” Richie introduced them.

“Hi.” Eddie only glanced up at her for a second, dropping his eyes again, ashamed.

“Hi Eddie. This is the first time I’ve caught Richie trying to cop a feel in the foam pit. You must be special.”

“Complete consensual, Kara. Eddie here can’t get enough of me.” Richie said, holding his hands up.

“Kill me now.” Eddie mumbled, falling back against the trampoline behind him.

Richie grinned and looked down at him, smoothing Eddie’s hair back with a hand. “Don’t be embarrassed because you love me, Eds. Kara is practically family.”

“Practically? Practically family doesn’t pay your first and last months rent so you can get an apartment.”

“I mean, Kara is like my second mother. I only wish that I was birthed from her loins.”

“That’s better.”

“Kara and Rose let me crash in the back room for a while when I worked here.” Richie explained. “They got sick of me hanging around all the time, so they helped me get my apartment. Cosigned and everything.”

Eddie sat back up and looked between them. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to know more about Richie. He wanted to know everything. He worried he’d say the wrong thing and Richie would stop sharing so openly. It wouldn’t be the first time Eddie had said something without thinking and accidentally offended someone. He wasn’t exactly known for his social grace. He blamed his mom for trying to keep him for socializing with his peers as a kid.

“Does this mean you brought me to meet your family on our second and a half date?” Eddie asked, hoping that was an acceptable response.

Both of their smiles reassured him that it was ok and he visibly relaxed. Richie’s arm came around his shoulder, pulling him against his side.

“That’s exactly what this is.” Richie said.

*

After the experience at Ladies and the Tramps, Eddie felt light and happy. Kara and Rose treated them to pizza for lunch before they headed out. They seemed to have a bet going over who could embarrass Richie more. Jen won when she told Eddie about the time Richie had been showing off on the rope and managed to get his food tangled. He hung upside down for five minutes while Jen tried to calm her laughing enough to help him down. Eddie had laughed along with her and the story earned her an affectionate headlock from Richie. It was like being having lunch with his boyfriend’s family, and Eddie felt closer to Richie somehow.

They left with the intent of heading home. Richie said he had something he wanted to show him. Part of Eddie hoped that meant he could see more of his apartment. He wondered if he was getting a little obsessive with wanting to absorb as much as he could. It was the first time he wanted any of this. He’d had crushes before but never bad enough to want to know them the way he wanted to know Richie. It was like he’d made a home in a corner of his brain and wasn’t planning to leave. Eddie thought he might be ok with that.

The worst part about having Richie on his mind 24/7, even when walking beside him, was that he lost himself in his thoughts. If he’d been more observant of his surroundings, he might have seen the patch of ice on the sidewalk. He and Richie weren’t holding hands this time, so there was nothing to keep him from slipping when he stepped directly onto the small patch. His foot slid back, causing him to lose his footing and land directly on top of it. He didn’t fall too hard, putting his hands out in time to catch himself slightly. Still, the palms of his hands stung and from the pavement and rock salt peppering the street. Richie immediately stopped, turning to check on him.

“You ok?” He asked, offering a hand.

“Yea.” Eddie said, taking his hand and allowing himself to be pulled up. “What’s the point of salting if you’re going to miss spots?” Eddie grumbled.

“How’s your ass? Need me to kiss it better?” Richie grinned.

“Touch my ass and I’ll break your fingers.” Eddie did think he’d have a bruise the following day and the seat of his pants were uncomfortably wet now. When Eddie tried to walk again, a pain shot through his ankle and he grabbed onto Richie for support as he lifted it. “Fuck. Ok, maybe not as ok as I thought.” He winced.

“What’s wrong?”

“My ankle. I landed on it and twisted it weird. Dammit. I’ll be fine, I just need to sit for a second.”

Richie helped Eddie over to the nearby bus stop. He sighed once he was sat down, though he could have done without the wet pants now clinging to him soaking through to his briefs. Richie crouched in front of him and gently rolled up his pants leg to get a look at his ankle. Eddie leaned forward to see as well. It was already swelling and bruising.

“I think we should probably take you to the emergency room, Eds.” Richie said, looking up at him.

“No. It’s fine. I just need to ice it.”

“I don’t think so. It’s better to get it looked at. It could be broken, sprained at the very least.”

“Fuck.” Eddie sighed. “Fine but I can’t walk.”

Richie rolled his pants back down and stood, pulling his phone from his pocket. He sat with Eddie while they waited for their uber to arrive, helping him into the backseat when it did. The ride to the emergency room was silent, Eddie’s eyes focused on the streets passing by beyond his window. When they arrived, Richie asked the driver to hang out for a second while he ran in to get a wheelchair for Eddie. When he returned, he helped him from the car into the chair. Eddie felt stupid and being in the emergency room, in a wheelchair, brough back terrible memories of his mother.

Check in went easily, but Eddie was reluctant to give his insurance information. It was his mother’s plan and she’d know something happened. He wanted to pay out of pocket but couldn’t afford it even if he emptied the account his mom set up for him. The anxiety only grew from there, the wait to be called back excruciating. Richie kept in gentle contact with Eddie while they waited, offering what little comfort he could.

Richie pushed the wheelchair when they were finally called back. A nurse took his vitals and asked a few questions before leaving them to wait again. When the doctor entered, she introduced herself as “Dr. Lisa” and immediately sat in front of Eddie to check out his ankle. She rolled up his pants leg and carefully remove his shoe and sock, though it still hurt when she did. She moved it around, asking if it hurt from one position to the next. Eddie wince with each new movement, gripping the arm of the wheelchair tight.

“I don’t think it’s broken. A fracture or sprain are likely. I’ll have to get an x-ray to know for sure.” She said, standing and heading to the door. “Someone will be here soon to take you down.”

They sat in silence while they waited, Richie staying behind when they finally came to get him for the x-ray. They should be back at Richie’s apartment, relaxing and spending time together, not in the emergency room with an injured ankle. Eddie’s anxiety was only getting worse as he thought about what would happen if his mom knew he was injured badly enough to call for an x-ray. After the x-ray and even more silent waiting, Dr. Lisa finally returned to the room.

“It’s a sprain.” She said flatly. “I’ll set you up with a brace and some crutches. Just try to stay off of it for a few days, keep in elevated and take some ibuprofen if you have any discomfort.”

“We’ll do that.” Richie said, looking concerned at Eddie’s scared face.

“I’ll get the brace and you’re good to go.” She left them in the room for a moment and Richie turned all of his attention to Eddie.

“You ok?” He asked, unable to stay silent any longer.

“No. I’m not ok. I’m going to have to tell my mom what happened because it’s her fucking insurance and she’s going to go ballistic.” Eddie was breathing heavy, nearly hyperventilating, his fears overflowing at last.

“It was an accident. You weren’t being reckless, you slipped on ice.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s insane. She could very realistically try to pull me out of college and make me move home over this. You don’t know what she’s like.”

“You don’t have to go. You’re an adult.”

“She pays my rent, she buys my food, she gives my spending money, she pays for my college! If I don’t go, she’ll take everything away so that I don’t have a choice!”

Richie cupped Eddie’s face between his hands and forced him to look at him. His eyes were soft, hoping to communicate comfort toward Eddie. “Hey, it’s ok. I won’t let her do that to you. Neither will the others. If she won’t pay for school, there’s loans, financial aid. It will be fine. You can move back to the dorms for a while, look for a job. We’ll take care of you, ok?”

Eddie’s eyes searched Richie’s face for a moment before he nodded, his breathing beginning to regulate again. He closed his eyes and leaned into Richie’s touch, allowing him to pull him forward into a hug. His forehead collided gently with Richie’s shoulder while his arms surrounded him, big and warm. Eddie felt calm coming over him slowly, bit by bit.

A moment later, the doctor returned with the brace and crutches. She helped Eddie put it on and showed them both how to remove it and put it back on without aggravating the sprain. She said her goodbyes and then left them again. Eddie grabbed his shoe and Richie pushed him toward the door. When all was done and they were finally free from the hospital, a good hour or so of their day lost, Eddie was calmer but felt sick still. It was like waiting for the bomb to drop.

They took another uber back to their building. Eddie felt awkward on the crutches, unstable on the moving elevator. Richie decided his thing could wait for another day and focused on getting Eddie onto his couch, foot propped up on cushions. He retrieved a glass of water and ibuprofen from the kitchen for him, sitting on the edge of the couch beside him.

“Best second and a half date ever, huh?” Eddie asked sarcastically before Richie could say anything.

“Would it be insensitive of me to bring up that fact that you didn’t get hurt ice skating on a huge rink, but managed to end up in the hospital from a tiny spot on the sidewalk?” He asked.

Eddie smiled, chuckling. “Extremely.”

“Alright, I won’t say it then.” Richie grabbed hold of Eddie’s hand bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the red flesh of his palm. “Maybe it didn’t end like planned, but it started good, right?”

“I don’t know. The sprain sucks, my mom inevitably finding out about this suck, but I did get to see you all serious and take charge. So not terrible.”

“That’s what you’re into, huh?” Richie asked.

“The ibuprofen helps with the pain in my ankle, but not the pain your attempts at flirting cause.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

Richie settled into the end of the couch as they agreed on a something to watch on TV, ignoring it to talk instead. Richie thought he wouldn’t mind if every date ended with them on Eddie’s couch.