#hadn’t seen anyone talk about this yet sooooo here I am

[likeawildanimal]

can we please talk about jeremy's characterization between tsc and tgr? just to preface, I love jeremy knox so much, but I feel like his pov was inconsistently written between the two books.

the tonal transition between tsc and tgr for jeremy's pov was so jarring. understandably, nora wanted us to know minimal jeremy backstory in tsc, but the issue is less about the content itself and more so how it was written. in tsc he's covering nearly his entire personality with sunshine. now, we could see the cracks, we got vague hints at the truth underneath the surface. trauma with parents, goes to therapy, only stays in a bedroom long enough for a hookup, but those are all actions. his mental state in tsc is relatively stable, supporting jean consistently. then tgr starts the morning after tsc ended narratively, suddenly jeremy is filled with self loathing, low self esteem, and is routinely punishingly self destructive. why does it feel like a switch was flipped overnight with jeremy's personality? he seems like an entirely different person. we experienced jeremy's pov for over a month in tsc and his mentality was never this dire. tgr jeremy is so viscerally lonely and ceaselessly battling with guilt in a way that wasn't at all present in tsc, but now consumes him in tgr.

we can clearly tell in tgr that jeremy's mentally and emotionally trapped in what happened four years ago, so his true mental state should've been intertwined within his characterization in tsc as well. there needed to be a better through line with his arc, so that the transition from mostly-sunshine to slipping under the beaming mask wasn't so drastic. jeremy's pov has always been a bit cagey and quite avoidant, but lacing his lingering darkness with his radiance from the start would've made the jump from tsc to tgr more cohesive for his characterization and less disjointed.

[s0urw00lf]

meeting ‘bob’ for the first time

An: I’m not familiar with the terms and ranks of any government agencies sooooo don’t kill me if something’s inaccurate. NOT PROOFREAD

Haven’t added top gun to my masterlist yet but I am working on it

Masterlist - tag-list

You were happy where you were stationed and it wouldn’t be long before your rank increased so when you got word that you were being shipped back to top gun again you wouldn’t lie and say you were happy about it.

Hard deck had been one of your favorite places to be when you were at top gun, not only because of the amount of times you wouldn’t have to pay for your drinks or fake flirt with a guy to get him to buy them, but because of the memories it held.

“Well if it isn’t clover” you heard a familiar voice speak from behind you. You turned around and there was phoenix followed by two other unfamiliar pilots “I didn’t know you were coming” she says with a smile. You stand up bringing her into a hug “phoenix, I knew you were, they said the best right?” You smirked she laughed patting your arm.

You gestured to the two men behind her with your chin “who are they?” You asked she glanced over her shoulder “payback” “fanboy” they answered themselves. You raised your eyebrow “charming, I’m clover nice to meet you guys” you nodded to them.

“What do we have here?” You heard a voice from across the bar, an all too familiar grating voice. You and phoenix made eye contact “bagman” the two of you spoke in unison with an eye roll.

The four of you walked over to the pool table that hangman occupied with two others, “well if it ain’t phoenix and clover my favorite girl group” he said with that all to familiar smirk on his face “here I thought we were special coyote, turns out the invite went to anyone”

You and phoenix stopped in front of the cocky bastard “fellas this here is bagman” phoenix introduced the blonde haired man. “Hangman” he corrected.

“She could’ve said asshole, you got lucky. Were looking at the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill” you explained, not helping the cocky smile on his face “stop” he said sarcastically.

Phoenix smirked “mind you the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War” she continued making his smirk fall.

“Cold War” coyote said “different wars, same century” payback informs. “Not this one” fanboy said. They went back and forth before introducing themselves “hey coyote” you greet him with a nod “hey” he replied “who’s he?” You asked with a small smile “who’s who?” Coyote asks.

“Him” you looked over to the man sitting down wiping his lap causing peanut shells to fall to the chair and onto the floor. He looked up as if he’d been caught, he was adorable, and innocent looking. “When did you get in?” You asked actually wondering because you hadn’t seen him when you approached.

He looked at you “oh I’ve- I’ve been here the whole time” he answered smiling, you glanced over to Phoenix and she gave you a knowing look. “Man’s a stealth pilot” hangman joked “literally”

“Weapons systems officer, actually” he corrected not getting the joke, “with no sense of humor” bagman not so quietly said “or maybe he just doesn’t speak asshole” you said patting his shoulder.

Hangman squinted at you shrugging off your hand and you laughed quietly as he moved away placing the cue stick in your hands. “What do they call you” Phoenix asked turning to the man. “Bob” the man answered quickly glancing down to the peanuts in his lap.

“No your call sign” payback corrected, he glanced around awkwardly before muttering “uh- bob”.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise “you’re Bob Floyd? My new back seater? From Lemoore right?” You asked with a small growing smile, he smiled back “looks like it, yeah” he nodded.

“Oh this is gonna be fun” Phoenix muttered behind you. Your smile grew, “yes it is” you replied back handing her the stick before walking over to the bar for your free drink.

“Go talk to her” Bob heard a voice say breaking his gaze from you. He looked back and saw nat standing with a smirk “what I-“ she cut him off with a laugh “it’s okay Bob, trust me. Go talk to her” she encouraged, Bob blinked rapid trying to understand why she’d encourage him to talk to you.

But Phoenix could see it, the look in your eye was different from any other she’d seen you give when your eyes set on Bob. You weren’t the type for one night stands. You preferred the other route, dates, flowers, and all of that nature. Bob was that guy that would give you that. Even if she didn’t know him well she could see from first glance that he was your type.

With another nod Phoenix managed to get him to walk over to you, wiping his palms on his pants as he approached you.

You hadn’t expected him to join you when you walked away but he did. “Want a beer, it’s on him” you asked gesturing to the man across the bar who without a doubt heard you.

Bob glanced at the man before nodding “uh sure” you smiled and called for penny, “two beers pretty please” you said with a small smile.

“Do you have any idea why we’re here?” He asked after a brief quiet between the two of you. You shook your head “nope, all I know is that we’re all the best, so whatever it is, it must be pretty big if they had to drag our asses out of our stations” you replied.

He wanted to say something, anything to fill the silence between you two that’s why his mouth moved before his brain could stop him “do you- can I” he paused letting out a nervous breath when your eyes laid on him “can I take you in a date?” He asked, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat.

Your eyebrows raised as a smile crept back onto your lips “a date, we just met ten minutes ago” you teased. He laughed breathlessly “yeah- I know, just so we can get to know each other. Or it can just be a friendly thing. Or not at all whatever… works for you” he said getting quieter as he spoke.

You smile ‘he truly is adorable’ you thought to yourself “where would said date be?” You asked leaning closer to him in wonder. “Whatever you want a beach night, coffee shop anything I don’t mind” he replied quickly.

“It can be a date, only if you buy me flowers” you joked “Beach night sounds fun. Meet you here? Friday night?”

He nodded “no problem, done” he said with reddened cheeks.

You grabbed one of the beers that you hand notice penny place in front of you “great, can’t wait”

Even though he’d be manning the back of your jet tomorrow, you couldn’t wait to see what a date with him would turn out to be.

Tag-list: @fandom-princess-forevermore

[neonpaperlanterns]

Short story - What if Y/N was just a random urban explorer that stumbled upon Playtime.Co and was like “I like that lemme check it out” and instead of doing a quick ‘search & go’, they’re now miles deep into a sidequest of defeating the prototype and helping free Kissy Missy, Poppy, DogDay, and other toys in the factory? How would they be reacting to the Playtime.Co lore and fighting against giant sentient cannibalistic toys? (Bonus if they got a camera/camcorder to document the entire adventure they’re having in Playtime.Co)

[A/n: I am so sorry this took so long, I really do hope you like it and again I am sorry it took so long. I don't expect chapter two to take as long though. With chapter four being out I feel revitalized to write some stuff for Poppy Playtime again. Also the cover art ]

Chapter One: You Who Enter

LuckySneakers13 enters LuckySneakers13 uploaded abandonedhospital.mp4 @sylumS33ker44 says “How do you get your videos so clear?” C0pB@it says “Hey I’ve been there before!” C0pB@it says “Only the first floor though. I had no idea that was lurking just above me!” SewerKing57 enters SewerKing57 says “Do you always tread ground that other people already covered?” SewerKing57 says “Like seriously this is sooooo boring.” @sylumS33ker44 says “Oh great, Sewers here. Dude why do you always have to do this?” C0pB@it says “I’m out.” C0pB@it leaves Xx_Her0Sh0t_xX enters Xx_Her0Sh0t_xX says “Just joined, what’s happening?” @sylumS33ker44 says “Sewers complaining about Lucky’s new video. AGAIN.” Xx_Her0Sh0t_xX says “New video?.” Xx_Her0Sh0t_xX says “Awesome, Lucky always gets the best shots. I’ve been to this place hundreds of times but you always make me see it in a new way.” SewerKing57 says “SEE! Old news!” SewerKing57 says “We’ve all seen it before! Go out and actually film something interesting for once instead of piggybacking off everyone else!” Xx_Her0Sh0t_xX says “Dude why are you still here?” SewerKing57 says “BECAUSE I’M RIGHT” BECAUSE I’M RIGHT BECAUSE I’M RIGHT BECAUSE. I’M. RIGHT

Adjusting the straps of your backpack you go over the mental checklist.

Head lamp? You pat your head, check.

Extra flash light? Check.

Water bottle? The bright yellow smiley face sticker stares at you from the side pocket. Check.

Snacks? Check. 

CamCorder? You pause as you stare into your bag. Rifling through you move around the first aid, extra batteries, pepper spray, and your car keys until you find it. Check. 

Slinging your backpack over your shoulders you make sure your shoes are tied tightly. And with one last tap to the knife holster on your thigh to make sure it’s there you were off.

Creeping towards the dilapidated entrance of Playtime Co you scanned the area. You hadn’t seen anyone when you made your way up here but cops like to pop up anywhere and at the most inconvenient times. And from the information you gathered or lack thereof, you were sure the authorities aren’t too keen on people coming here. 

It wasn’t safe, they said. Which to be fair it probably wasn’t. 

People still talked about the mass disappearance. Families of former employees speaking in hushed venomous whispers, unsure in their mourning but certain in their anger. Yet never daring to venture beyond the police barricades.

Old caution tape crunched under your feet as you flipped on your camcorder. Holding it up you took in the dilapidated looming visage of Playtime. You’ve seen pictures of the building in its prime. The colors once garish but oddly enticing now muted and depressive. Letting both your gaze and the camera travel upwards you took in the sight of the crumbling smoke stacks and how they blocked out the rising sun, leaving you and the entrance in murky shadows. 

Slowly panning back down you feel your excitement spike as you stare at the boarded up entrance. The doors were covered in dirt and cracks that spider webbed out in intricate patterns. 

Flipping off the camera for now you rummage around in your bag until you feel the worn wooden handle of the hammer you brought. Twirling the tool around in your hand you stick the prongs behind one of the wooden panels. Bracing yourself you begin to pull. Glass rattles and rusted hinges groan as the wood gives. You’re careful as the panels clatter to the ground. Nails poking out menacingly, just waiting for you to step on them. 

Sweat beaded along the small of your back as the last panel cracked and splintered in two. It swayed gently as finally one door stood clear. Grabbing the handle you pulled but it didn’t budge. 

Blinking owlishly you stared rather dumbly at the locked door. You hadn’t actually anticipated this. But as you glanced down at the hammer in your other hand, you can’t say you don’t come prepared.

Taking in a deep breath your lungs were filled with stale dusty air as a grin spread across your face. Bouncing on the balls of your feet your gaze didn’t know what to settle on first. Scrambling to get your camcorder on, you swiveled your head back and forth. From the peeling paint to the scattered papers, to the lights that you didn’t expect to be working humming above the front desk.

Really the fact that this place still had power was astonishing. You expected to be met with near complete darkness. The only light would be your headlamp and the weak rays of the morning sun struggling to get in through the dirty windows.

Yet instead you were met with a pleasant and intriguing surprise. Trying to keep your excitement under control you slowly panned your camera around the lobby. Pausing to zoom in on the faded painting of Huggy Wuggy that greeted you. 

Being mindful of any potential tripping hazards that could blur the visuals you made your way over to the gift shop. Making sure to linger on the Bron poster.

‘Eat Healthy! Like Bron!’ it read.

You were happy it was in such good condition though there was a nagging little voice in the back of your head that said it looked too good. Too clean that it just had to be fake. 

Pushing down the negative feeling you moved carefully into the gift shop. Standing in the center you spun in a slow circle. Taking in the honestly rather barren store. Peering up you made sure to get the train as it circled around. You had hoped this would have been more interesting but at the same time this was only the beginning. With a bit more pep in your step you bounded back into the lobby. 

Veering towards the welcome desk you set your camera down on the counter. Angling it so it watched the old Tv that hung in the corner you noticed a vibrant green vhs sitting on the desk. Picking it up you looked from the tape to the tv. 

Would it still be working? If the lights are then maybe. There was no harm in finding out. Making sure to stay out of the shot you pushed the tape into the player. 

The sound of static made you jump as the tv crackled to life. 

"Hi, my name is Leith Pierre and I'm the head of innovation here at the Playtime Co. Toy Factory.” 

It worked.

“If you're seeing this, then you're trespassing. Yeah, we play this little tape on loop whenever we close the factory for the day. So trespasser, just to make you aware. While we pride ourselves primarily on our high quality toys and excellent childcare, we also pride ourselves on our security.”

You let out a small snort as you rolled your eyes. Trespasser is not the worst thing you’ve been called since you’ve started your ventures into the places left to rot.

“For example, this facility is full of hidden motion triggers which, once set off, will turn on the factory's emergency alarms and directly contact the authorities! And that's one of the more tame aspects of our security system. No spoilers…”

That had your eyebrows furrowing. Clearly things still functioned here so there is a high chance that you have actually triggered some alarms.

Though what do tamer aspects mean? Are nets going to drop from the ceiling? Will you be caught in some elaborate trap strung upside down as you wait for the authorities?

“So, you've got my warning. It's not too late to turn around. I just hope you're certain whatever you're doing is worth it.”

The recording cut off leaving you with just the hum of the lights. A frown pulled at your mouth as your gaze darted between the door and the entrance into the rest of the factory. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you weigh your options. 

Was it worth it?

‘Film something interesting for once.’ 

Grabbing your camera you hop over the revolving gate. If cops were on their way you didn’t really have much time to waste. If you were going to be arrested then dammit you were going to make it worth it.

The otherside was dark, filled with eerie shadows from the glowing blue hand that taunted you from above the closed door. Glaring at the obstacle you looked around. Since there was still power that means the track the door is attached to could be convinced to open even if you don’t have the key. At least a little bit, just enough for you to roll under. You just needed the proper leverage.

Containers and boxes were strewn about around you and you think the wooden slats from the entryway would be sturdy enough. Leaving your bag against the door you scurried around collecting what you needed. 

Your shoes scraped against the ground as you dragged the heaviest box you could find over to your makeshift lever. Laying the planks of wood over it you grab the hammer. 

You really hoped this worked.

Forcing the teeth of the tool under the door you pull.

And pull.

And pull until there is a meager amount of space to shove the thin wood underneath. Gently you rock it, pushing the box closer. Gears grind and creak as you force them upwards. 

You can feel sweat beading along your spine as you are able to make just enough headway to shimmy under the door. Snatching your bag you sit on the other side for a moment. Sipping at some water you take in the hallway. At the end of it you can see a statue of Huggy Wuggy standing tall as the morning light shimmers around him. Pushing yourself off the ground you start up your camera again. 

That earlier excitement came flowing back as you cast your camera upward, making sure to get all of the toy in frame. 

Coming back down you zoom in on the plaque until the words are properly visible. Holding it there for a moment you looked around, debating where to go next. The sign for the innovations wing taunted you as your gaze rolled over it. The door seemed firmly closed as you felt yourself pout.

But there was some hope.

On the left of you one of those shutter doors was pulled up. The blue hand flickering slightly. Almost like it was begging for your attention. 

And well it worked. 

You shuffled sideways, still trying to take in everything before exploring something new.

Taking a quick glance down at your watch you note the time. It was 7:47 in the morning. It took you about an hour to drive to PlayTime and you had received your “warning” at about 7:15. So you hazard a guess that you had at least 28 minutes left. If the alarms still worked. Picking up the pace you scampered down the brightly lit hallway. 

You don’t think this place still maintaining power was not going to stop amazing you.

To your left there was a door and to your right there was another door. Reaching out you pushed on the right door. It jiggled but didn’t open. It was glass so it could be easily broken and you already technically vandalized the front door but for the sake of hopefully less charges you pushed on the left. 

It swung open with ease. Peering into the dark you could make out faint light at the end of the hall. The light from your headlamp bounced off the weirdly damp walls. Steam hissed from groaning pipes as you tried to keep your pace steady.

You’ve been exploring abandoned places for 3 years now but long dark hallways still made goosebumps break out across your skin. Skipping the last step you emerged from the dark and into a dingy warehouse of sorts. 

This is not the most interesting warehouse you have ever seen. But you made sure to take it all in regardless. Eying the television in the corner you made your way to the set of stairs. The metal creaked underneath you as rust flaked off under your hold on the railing. 

Reaching the top you spied a grungy yellow tape. You had to wonder if this would be another prideful warning about security systems and turn back now before it’s too late. Grabbing it you noticed it was labeled. 

Security Camera: Rich + Avery

Pushing it into the player you were ready for the static sound this time. Sitting on the stairs you listened to the conversation play out.

It was just a mundane talk between two coworkers. Yes it was highlighting that there were some issues when the factory was up and running but overall it was nothing special. Nothing worth keeping a recording of. So why did they? Honestly it was a little weird.

As the video ended you looked down at your watch. As much as you wanted to get more footage you didn’t really want to risk getting arrested. Even if the chances were slim that anyone would actually show up. 

Turning off your camera you shoved it back into your bag. A dejected sigh left you as you meandered back through the eerie hallway. This trip had not gone how you planned. You thought you would have had more time. The footage you got was fine.

It was new but it wasn’t amazing.

You knew the shots were good and coming here was a bold move but it wasn’t enough. You could see the comments now. They would praise you, be wowed by the little you got but you know; oh god you know that SewerKing would slip in there and tear it all down. No matter what you did, how many places you explored, how dangerous things got, nothing was ever good enough for the Holier than Thou SewerKing.

You’ve never even seen that squawking basement boy post anything. 

You don’t know why you try so hard. Or why some random nobody bothered you so much. But he did and you could not get the things he said out of your head. Gritting your teeth you kicked your foot out, sending a piece of rubble skittering along the floor. It bounced and echoed until a sudden metallic clang rang out. Your head snapped up at the sound. Any ounce of anger drained out of you as you came face to face with a closed door.

For all intents and purposes you should be concerned that the door is suddenly closed now. Because it was concerning and you were but at the same time the door was closed. And if the door was closed then any potential authorities that might come wouldn’t even think to look down here.

Because the door was closed. 

Turning back around you skipped back into the dark.

Oh well, you were sure there was another way out. You just had to explore a bit more to find it. 

Taking the stairs two at a time you bound along the walkway, head swiveling back and forth. Beneath you was a conveyor belt, following it with your eyes you noticed that it led into an open tunnel.

There was only one set of stairs and you were already up here so it would be pointless to go back down and find a door, so you shimmed across the industrial shelving. Hopping down you wipe the dust and grime that had collected on your hands off on your jacket. 

With little hesitation you hunch your shoulders and creep into what you hoped would lead to a way out but more importantly something interesting. 

It was oddly easy to maneuver in here. Metal still brushed along your sides but you didn’t have to crouch. Fumbling with your bag you reach for your camera. This would make for a good long shot. 

A long shot that was abruptly cut off as the belt began to move. Lurching forward you stumbled, tripping on rungs that lead downward. Alarms blared as you were herded deeper into the factory. Orienting yourself you checked the camera, if it got damaged then all of this would be for nothing. Twisting it in your hands you found nothing amiss, though you are sure what footage you attained from this would be too blurred to use. You tried to not let it get to you as you rolled along. Instead focusing on the bits of plastic toy parts that were sporadically dumped alongside you. Picking up a dismembered leg from Cat-Bee you thought about how everything was prepped for the work day, that nothing was touched in the last 7 years. 

It was creepy.

And exactly what you needed.

Excitement thrummed through you as the conveyor belt came to an end, depositing you in a broken cylinder. Peering out you felt a grin spread across your face. You are so happy that the door had shut, this was just perfect. Careful of broken glass you slunk down and out of the toy depositor. Your hands were shaking to the point that you had to take a moment. This was all just so amazing and you would not forgive yourself if anything came out wrong. 

Breathing in slowly you took in this new room. You didn’t know if this was the innovation wing or somewhere else but it didn’t really matter. The giant machines would make for wonderful set pieces and as you turned you spotted a potential way out. Though the giant sign claimed you needed a toy to get out. Which maybe it shouldn’t have made you as thrilled as it did but how could it not? Everything else in this place seemed to be working so why not what appeared to be a toy assembly line? You would get in real-time footage of the toys being made and have physical evidence of being here!

Resisting the urge to run, instead you slowly  approached the display that said ‘Make A Friend.’ And you would have pushed the button immediately if it weren’t for the little screen telling you that it needed power. Which was fine, more exploration was not going to harm anything. Also it would look really good if you could get on camera powering the machines back on.

If you had to guess the way to power it on was most likely up those stairs behind you but it would be interesting to see if there was anything behind the machines first.

And it was interesting to say the least.

A feeling of vertigo turned your stomach as you and the camcorder stared into the abyss. Leaning on the railing for support you could not fathom why there was such a drop. You could only guess where all of those criss crossing pipes lead to as they disappeared below the steam. 

Okay that was enough of that. Your stomach was doing flips as you shuffled away. As much as you didn’t really care for looking into the cavernous nothingness you were glad you did, it really added a sense of dread to everything and would be a nice moment ‘What is that!’

Feeling content you made your way up the stairs and past another vhs setup. Another one? Keeping your eyes peeled, you searched for another possible tape. Which was oddly not hard to find. It was the same shade of bubblegum pink as the vhs player and placed at the top of the stairs, almost like it was waiting for you. And maybe that should have set something off in your head but this place had been abandoned suddenly and for many years now. This tape might have just been dropped in the rush of whatever happened all that time ago.

Scooping it up you read over the faded sticker, making sure to get it on camera.

Stella Greyber Interview.

 The last one you found you didn’t think was the most interesting but it was cool that they were just laying about. It gave some insight into the interpersonal working of Playtime and legitimacy to your video. You’d have to play it after you got the power back on though. Whatever was on the tape would pale in comparison to seeing the toy maker in action. 

Making your way across the catwalk you weren’t sure what you would find in terms of what you would need to do to get the power directed to the display downstairs. Maybe an electrical box with a series of levers and buttons or even a system that would require a crank to get a charge going but that isn’t what you got. Instead it was a rather odd series of electrical poles you had to wrap extendable wires around. 

It felt backwards or like you were missing something.

Yet it worked and that was all that mattered. Looking down instead of the faint red lettering you saw green. It took every ounce of control not to barrel back down those stairs but you had a tape to watch. Setting the camcorder up to be facing the tv you sat back as the old thing came to life. 

“So, Stella, what made you want to work at Playtime Co. Factory?”

“Playing with toys when I was young was so magical. I could go straight from my bedroom floor to anywhere in the world. It was such a great feeling. And... being able to work at a toy factory... somewhere that can provide kids with that same experience... That's a pretty great feeling too!”

You sipped at your water as you listened. 

“Sometimes though... I really, really wish I could go back. To being a kid, I mean. And it's weird, 'cause... adults are just kids, but older! I don't think anyone ever really feels like an adult? But your body just gets older... and older... and then you die. Poof!”

Stella laughed, it was short and filled with something that made you feel odd. Actually the entire time this woman was talking was making you feel weird.

“Human bodies just can't stay young forever. There's things though, like some trees that can stay alive even while being way older than a person! I mean, the oldest people to ever live are STILL younger than those! So I guess everyone is always young relative to something... Right?”

“Alright, I think we're getting a little off-track.” 

As the tape came to an end you couldn't help but agree with the interviewer. The way Stella spoke was just plain crazy. But at least it was fascinating to listen to and you were sure the likes of Copbait and Heroshot would love it. Though now it is time for what you think is the most fun part of all of this. 

Before hitting the button you lingered on the plaque that sat next to it. You had to wonder how many people had been out of a job because of this thing. It was vague but you knew that some still held resentment towards Playtime and not just because of the mass disappearance. That was neither here nor there though. Moving on you zoomed in on the red button that feels like it has been taunting you forever now. You didn’t need to wait anymore so you pushed it with maybe a bit too much force.

For a moment nothing happened and you couldn’t help but hold your breath. You let it out at the same time a whistle rang through the room as everything sprung to life. Eyes popped open on the machines and that was a really strange design choice but alright. Their gazes followed you as you followed the track that the parts of the Cat-Bee were being moved along on. You wished you could actually see what was happening inside but what you were getting was still better than anything you thought you would get when coming here. Trying not to bounce on the balls of your feet you waited at the end of the line, ready to snatch up your toy before it was whisked away through the now open convery system. 

Beaming you presented your freshly made Cat-Bee to the camcorder. The parts were in astonishingly good condition considering, and you could not wait to add it to your collection of finds. 

Proudly you walked over to the exit. Happily you placed your toy in the little scanner, ready to get home and begin the process of going through the footage. As the gate rose up you made sure your camera and Cat-Bee were safely inside your backpack. You didn’t believe the authorities were here or if they had come at all but on the off chance any cops lingered it would be best to have your hands free incase of any fence hopping requirements.

Humming some inane tune you heard on the radio when you were driving here you let the tips of your fingers run along the wall, nails scraping over the painted arm of Kissy Missy until you touched smooth glass. You knew you should go but it was a bit too tempting not to try the door. Pushing on it you let out a snort, it was locked. Oh well, you had already gotten enough. With a shrug you turned back to the exit coming face to face with Huggy?

You stalled, mouth agape as the smiling face of Huggy Wuggy stares at you. His form contorted so he is eye level with you. He raises his arm, a yellow mitten parallel with your chest before he shoves it into you, forcing you to stumble backwards. Your limbs and mind not working in tandem as you trip over your own legs. The face of Playtime follows after you, shoving at you randomly until you are backed into the display. His face remained uncomfortably close the entire time as your mind reeled. 

Did you hit your head harder than you thought when you were pulled along by the conveyor belt? 

Did you actually fall when trying to get down earlier and your body was currently lying unconscious on the factory floor?

Were you in the throes of death because you hadn’t actually managed to shimmy under the door to the rest of Playtime and it had collapsed on you?

All of those made more sense than what you were currently seeing. Watching Huggy Wuggy watch you, you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t sure this was real because why would it be? Hesitantly you reached out, fingertips barely grazing the blue fabric of his long arm. The small touch seemed to have triggered something because his mouth began to open. Red lips split apart revealing long thin needle like teeth and a mess of wire as a gurgling noise began to emit from Huggy. It terrified you and without truly giving it another thought you unholstered your knife and lunged forward. 

You felt as the blade met a moment of resistance before tearing into the upper part of his arm. Huggy wheeled backwards, dislodging the knife as an ear splitting screech tore from him. Warm drops of what you assumed was blood splattered across your face as you scrambled away from him. Not even thinking of risking darting past him as he flailed on the ground you beelined for the open conveyor belt. You could still hear him screaming as the door shut.

Blood rushed in your ears as you moved forward, intent on finding another way out. Because there had to be another way out, one that wasn’t blocked by whatever that was. And you still weren’t sure that whatever it was, was actually real, even with the spots on your face becoming tacky as the blood cooled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry or just collapse on the ground and wait for everything to make sense again. Rather desperately you wanted to do the last option but the thought of lingering here any longer wasn’t a pleasant one. Fumbling your way forward your foot gets snagged on a rung you hadn’t noticed, sending you downward again. Tears of frustration stung your eyes as you pushed yourself up. There was a throbbing in your ankle and you would have given up there and just stayed down if there wasn’t the faintest sound of something hitting the metal next to you. Screechy snarls grated along your ears and oh dear god he was in here with you. 

No, no, nonononono. Your breathing picked up as you launched yourself upward, head hitting against the wall with the force of your momentum. You thought you were safe in here. You thought you had a chance to breathe, to come to terms with what just happened. But you didn’t and it was made all the more obvious by the shadow of Huggy running after you on the other side of the wall. The only barrier between you were the thin metal slats that allowed you to even have a vague understanding of where he was. Not that it helped much, he was able to disappear and reappear in front of you at what felt like will. Long limbs reached for you as his gaping mouth snapped at your jacket. You had the thought that Huggy might have been toying with you. Even if you weren’t limping you knew he was much faster than you. The ease at which he slithered through the narrow spaces attested to that. And there had been a moment he had caught you, you were sure of it but he had pulled back vanishing only to pop back up in front of you forcing you to plunge further into this maze of horrors. 

You couldn’t keep running, a stitch had formed in your side and your calves burned. Maybe that’s what he wanted, for you to be too exhausted to keep going and then he would put an end to this demented game of tag.

And as you fall to your knees, chest burning and vision blurred by tears he does just that. Huggy Wuggy barrels into you, sending you both flying. A tangle of limbs and gnashing teeth as your bodies collide with a conveyor door. The metal gave way much easier than you would have thought, not that you had much time to think. The force of both of you slamming into the ground caused a horrible screeching sound to ring out and then you were in freefall. A scream caught in your throat, mind blank as everything slowed down before immediately speeding back up again.

Huggy’s body hit the ground first. His head bounced off a railing before being hit by bits of falling debris. You fared better than the giant toy, mostly protected unintentionally by his arms. Not that it didn’t hurt though, in the fall his teeth had nearly punctured through your shoulder. The pulsing sting of where they had grazed you had you hissing, wanting to curl in on yourself. 

Yet there was no time. Untangling yourself from the monster you took note that he wasn’t moving. Half expecting his face to be right there you turned to look at him. Huggy’s eyes were still open, his mouth agape but he wasn’t looking at you. There was almost a slump like quality to his features and creeping closer you noticed that blood was welling up from a small wound on his head. He was still breathing though, chest rising and falling sporadically so he was still very much alive but appeared to be unconscious. Stepping carefully around his sprawled limbs you came to stand above his head. If he was knocked out then you had a chance to get away. You didn’t have to lay down and die. 

Hobbling along the catwalk you used the railing as support, getting further and further away from Huggy the more you took in your surroundings. Below you was the vast network of pipes and nothingness. Above you wasn’t much better. How far had you gone into the factory in your attempt to get away? Where even were you inside Playtime? There were connecting belts that obviously meant to push product around but you could not fathom as to where.

It was all made even more confusing by the giant painted poppy flower that felt like it was beckoning you closer and as that was where the path ended it essentially was. Moving faster you ignored the protest coming from your ankle. You just wanted all of this to be over. Though you were side-tracked in your endeavor by an inconspicuous vhs tape laying invitingly in your way. It read ‘Final Log’ and as you picked it up you noticed off to the side in the shadows was another television, it was almost lost in the gloom and you should let it stay lost but you were curious. This tape could have some answers, answers you frantically needed. 

So even though you should keep going you didn’t. Slumping to the ground in front of the vhs player you pushed the tape inside. It buzzed to life and you sat there, barely daring to breathe as a man began to speak.

“Final log. In relation: 1-0-0-6. The Prototype.”

You cast your gaze towards the outline of Huggy, he hasn’t moved. Your eyes turn back to the screen.

“Coordination and cooperation is evidently within his skillset, as well as the skillset of all other experiments of his type.”

Was that… Was that screaming?

“Though still missing, today's events are no doubt in relation to him.”

Slowly your hands came up to cover your mouth. 

“His absence was a flaw in the scientific process, which should have under no circumstances been left unaccounted for.”

Unaccounted for? Flaw in the scientific process? Today’s events? What was going on? Your head swiveled back to Huggy, still there. 

“That's why I'm making this log: So that the same mistake won't be made twice.”

He was speaking so casually, so unhurried in his cadence as what you could only guess where the former employees being slaughtered outside of wherever he was.

“Any future experiments will need to be contained and disposed of in a secure location.”

A loud thud coming from the tv made you jump, gaze immediately cutting back to Huggy. He was still there.

“I'm not worried about myself. One breakthrough and I'll be back. We must forge onwards in the name of science. Whether those who are beneath us understand it or not. End of-”

You sat there for a moment, absorbing everything you had just heard and it was making you nauseous. What the hell where they doing here? One breakthrough and he’ll be back? Back from what? What sort of acts of playing God were these people doing? Whatever it was it seemed to have backfired, whoever he was seemed to put an end to that. 

Getting back up you rubbed at your temples. A headache was forming as you trudged your way towards the flower. 

Pausing at the stairs you sucked in air sharply. Dangling from pipes were strung up toys. It was a grotesque display that led your eye to the concerning text that surrounded your only way out. 

‘Run.’

‘Turn around’

‘Go back’ 

It all screamed at you that this was not the way to go, yet there was no other way. You weren’t turning around and walking back into your potential death. The only way was forward and forward you went. Ignoring the warnings you didn’t hesitate to open the door. It didn’t even creak as it did so. 

Stepping through you felt immediate unease. It’s like you walked into a completely different world. Gone were the dull greys and steaming pipes, in its place was a dim suburban house hallway. Firmly shutting the door behind you, you followed the hallway downward. You didn’t want to keep going down but the only way up was gone. 

As you went further you began to hear a music box playing. It only heightened your discomfort. Were you going to find another Huggy monster down here? Would you find something worse? 

The music got louder as the hallway opened up. Colorful pillows littered the floor and empty bookshelves lined the walls. Creeping around the wall divider you noted a well kept dollhouse on the ground. It was oddly clean here, the only sign of age was the peeling wallpaper. It was tempting to once again fall to the ground. You were so tired and the pillows looked extremely inviting. Yet that door was not solid and it had not been locked. Stopping now would just leave you an easy target. 

Continuing down the hall you were met with immediate regret. The lamps gradually shifted hues, bathing the walls in an ominous red light. Though there was a set of doors at the end of it and it was the only thing that pushed you forward. Hoping beyond hope that this would be the end. 

It wasn’t.

At the sight of what was essentially a dead end you began to cry. There was nothing here save more pillows and a porcelain doll in a glass case. You came down here for nothing. 

It was all for nothing. You didn’t know how you were going to get out of here. You were trapped with nowhere to go and Huggy was going to kill you. You supposed you could at least make it difficult for him. The doors leading to this room were heavier than the other one. You could barricade yourself in and maybe in his attempts to break through you could get past him and run. Probably not, there was nowhere to go but you didn’t really want to just let it happen. 

You don’t know if you have the time to spare to move a bookshelf in here so the table and case would have to do. And who knows maybe you’d find a hidden door or something behind the case, one could dream. 

Tapping on glass you stare for a moment at the doll inside. You feel like you recall an old commercial about it. Though you weren’t sure, commercials stopped airing for Playtime awhile ago. Grabbing the handle, you pulled. There was resistance so you pulled harder until the door swung open. The music stopped immediately and the lights began to flicker. The doll's eyes shot open and you screeched, flinging yourself away from it just as the room went dark. 

“Who are you?” 

[kylorengarbagedump]

Defy Your Authority: Chapter 2

Read on AO3. Part 1 here. Part 3 here.

Summary: So, like, what's the big deal, buddy?

Words: 3800

Warnings: None. Yet.

Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader

A/N: Hello!! Firstly, thank you so much to @bastila-ren​ and @elmidol​ for listening to me talk so much about this fic, for reading the first two chapters, and helping me with their generous feedback.

Secondly, I want to thank all of you for your EXTREMELY generous response to this fic. I admit I was very nervous to post this, and still am very nervous to write it, but I can't explain how helpful it is to know that people still enjoy the story and want to read more. It's definitely a story I want to write!

Y’all have truly been too kind to me. I don't have a posting schedule, just yet--I'm hoping every week or every other week. :) Love y'all SOOOOO MUCH.

Like the smarmy bastard he was, Hux fought off a smirk. But Allegiant General Pryde gazed at you with what some might refer to as sheer, indignant horror.

Kylo Ren stopped feet from the throne, his gaze wandering your grungy hair, dirtied uniform, the cell filth on your face.

“Hm,” he said. “That’s one way to greet your Supreme Leader.”

Embers tickled your cheeks. Your Supreme Leader.

You looked at the two other men. What was on your tongue: Would you prefer I get on my knees instead?

What you ended up saying: “Uh, sorry. Sir.”

“I believe the Supreme Leader requires an apology a little more comprehensive than uh, sorry.”  Pryde stepped forward, as if to explain. “Sir, this woman was brought aboard by General Hux without prior approval.”

Kylo glanced between the older men, stare drifting to you, the darkness in his eyes reviving an animal within you that had been placed on life support. 

“Yes,” he replied. “I don’t recall providing authorization for this.”

“Supreme Leader,” Hux said, “we both know your TIE has been out of commission for several cycles. I thought it prudent to--”

“You thought it prudent to ask a manager of a remote outpost to come aboard the flagship of the First Order. I assume that’s what you’re about to say.” Pryde paused, waiting for Hux’s contrition--but none came. He turned to Kylo. “Sir, again, please forgive me. Had I known he’d be bringing aboard a rim-dweller who would defy your authority, I would’ve denied his request, entirely.”

“Defiance.” Kylo’s gaze drilled you. Much like you had dreamt of something else of his drilling you. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Pryde balked. “Well, I hardly find it appropriate to address the Supreme Leader of the First Order as dude, for starters.” He spat the word onto the floor like poison. “Really, General, you and her both should be begging for his pardon.”

You swallowed, attention on Kylo, trying to hide your glee. “Please, please forgive me,” you murmured. “Supreme Leader.”

Hux cleared his throat. “My apologies as well, sir.”

“Hm.” If he’d understood your tease, he didn’t acknowledge it. You frowned. Kylo looked to the cloaked mercenaries behind you. “Escort her back to Orinda.”

Disbelief smacked you across the face. “I’m sorry, what?”

Sputtering, Hux stepped forward. “Supreme Leader--”

“You don’t belong on this vessel,” Kylo said, glimpsing you, then the cloaked figures again. “Report is postponed. Prepare the Buzzard for departure.” 

Like droids, they activated and brushed past you, stalking toward the turbolift. The Supreme Dickhead gazed at you expectantly.

“They’re not patient.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms. “If you think I’m leaving--”

“Supreme Leader,” Hux said again. For once, you felt like both of you were stuck in the same flabbergasted pod. “Repairing your fighter has already wasted the time of numerous engineers, we don’t need to add--”

“Perhaps every engineer aboard deserves to have their time equally wasted, General.”

Hux’s jaw tensed. “If you wish, sir,” he replied. “But we could resolve the issue now.”

“We won’t.”

For whatever reason, Kylo Ren seemed dedicated to preventing you from working on this ship, as if he didn’t know your skill level. As if he believed other engineers deserved a shot at it over you. Ignoring the furious trembling of your fingers, you dug them into your sleeves. 

“What, you don’t think I’m capable?” you asked, frowning.

Pryde sighed. “Supreme Leader, the Council--”

Kylo pivoted to you. “No.” There was no hint of mockery or deception in his tone. “You’re capable.”

You swallowed, shrugged your shoulder. Tried not to sound hurt. “Then why won’t you let me try?”

Hazel eyes lingered, held you in silence for deafening seconds. There was something very, very tired inside of them. 

“Sir,” Pryde said, “as much as I love the rousing debate over whether or not this rimrat should be deemed worthy of working on your starfighter, the Supreme Council meeting is in minutes.” He turned to you. “I believe you’ve been directed to leave.”

You furrowed your brow, but miraculously managed to say nothing. The muscle under Kylo’s nose twitched. 

“You’ll get two hours.” He didn’t seem excited about the idea. “After that, you will return to Orinda.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” you sighed. “Sir.”

A huff escaped him. “The Supreme Council meeting.” He turned, strode to the exit. “Come.”

Pryde frowned. “Sir, shouldn’t Hux return her to the hangar?”

“No.” Kylo’s voice ricocheted in the chamber. “She’s coming.”

Something like joy sparkled in your heart. Hux jutted out his chin, smirking at Pryde, who frowned and looked to you. You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him. There was a puzzle in his mind regarding your identity, a puzzle he was struggling to put together without the missing pieces. You weren’t interested in offering them. 

The three of you followed Kylo into the turbolift. Out of irritation, you stood as far away from him as possible. Awkward quiet settled in the air, and you grit your teeth, ignoring the sting of humiliation at your cheeks. Sure, it was nice he was inviting you to his little meeting, but that hardly compensated for the fact that it had been four entire months since you’d seen him and he was intent on booting you without so much as a parting fuck. 

Not that you wanted to fuck him after that stunt. 

Mostly.

The lift descended. Kylo hadn’t even looked at you, despite your best attempts at petty distancing. Hundreds of words hung on your tongue, and so few of them were appropriate for the ears of Hux and Pryde. Luckily for you, you could think them, instead.

Jackass.

The blast door slid open, and Kylo exited without response, the two generals on his heels. You lagged behind them, glare boring into the broad-shouldered bastard with the flowing cape.

Can’t believe this asshole was here the entire time, knowing everything, with all of the power in the galaxy, just doing bantha-shit about it.

Stormtroopers passed in formation, nodding in deference to the men in front of you as you turned a corner. The clomping of boots was the only sound for meters.

Leaving you for four months, horny as hell, lonely as hell, all while he was here doing what? Jerking off? As if he hadn’t begged you to stay. Please.

At the end of the hall, a set of blast doors parted, and you trailed the group inside, greeted by a massive, jet-black table with a hologram projector buried in the center. The occupants of about a dozen chairs turned, their eyes stuck to you, assessing you. Kylo crossed to the head of the table, Hux and Pryde taking spaces near him. The only open seats were at the back, relegated for only the most irrelevant attendees. You slunk over to one, sinking into it.

Apparently you’re not relevant to anyone in this room, anyway.

“Who’s this?” A balding officer of high-rank stared at you. “Supreme Leader?”

Pryde leaned forward. “She’s the Chief--”

“Who she is,” Kylo drawled, “is none of your concern.” 

Blood heated your face. The room rumbled with uncertainty, but only for seconds. 

“Sir,” said an older woman with slick blonde hair, “Multiple locations on Kamino refused entry to officers seeking out junior recruits. Our entry-level ranks are suffering. Requesting additional--”

Kylo glanced at her. “Yes.”

She nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Supreme Leader,” said an older, white-haired man. “Surveillance indicates that a fuel depot located in the Inner Rim has received communications from Resistance starships.”

“Have they responded?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Eliminate them.”

“Yes, sir.”

Another, dark-skinned woman inched to the edge of her seat. “Supreme Leader, ground troops found no evidence of Resistance sympathizers on the most recent patrol of Aeos Prime.”

“And the infrastructure.”

“Seems salvageable, sir.”

Kylo blinked, as if the answer hadn’t even mattered. “Move to the next outpost in the system.”

“Of course, Supreme Leader.”

Yet another man cleared his throat. “Supreme Leader, if I may…”

Swallowing, you stared into the gleaming tabletop, tracing the rivets of white light bordering the projector. Voices rose, offering status updates and seeking approval of the man at the head of the room. Obviously, there was nothing attractive about how competent and powerful Kylo Ren appeared in this setting. And this definitely did not tingle pride in your belly watching every single person in this room vie for his favor, knowing that out of all of them, the one he’d fucked was you.

Then again, maybe that was the very crux of the issue. His time and attention was desired and demanded and split between thousands--he directed and delegated an entire, galaxy-wide government. He commanded armies. Strategized operations. Balanced every need, tangible and intangible, with only two hands.

You spent your days bathing in ion dust.

The Allegiant Asshole cleared his throat, breaking you from your pity party. “General Hux,” he said, “didn’t you have your pet project to present?”

All eyes turned to Hux, his face dull with irritation. Lips pursing, he straightened his spine, fingers whizzing over the data screen at his seat. One swipe, a quick field entry, and the projector hummed to life, shooting a blue hologram of a TIE fighter above the table. It flickered, rotating like a display.

“The First Order has regularly demonstrated deficient performance during naval engagements, despite our superior numbers and resources,” Hux said. “After gathering data, we discovered that during our most recent missions, the TIE fighter is regularly out-piloted by Resistance sympathizers.” He tapped the screen, and the hologram split into a cross-section. “Thorough research indicates the TIE model is obsolete.”

The room crackled with whispers, officers turning to each other and looking to Hux, their faces twisted in disbelief. Kylo Ren sat, saying nothing, trained on the display. 

Sighing, you gazed at your hands and cleaned your nails. To you, this was obvious. Of course the basic TIE models--the TIE/fo models--were obsolete. The ships were highly inflexible, carried little firepower for their unwieldy construction, and had no hyperdrive application. In comparison to the model used by the Special Forces, the TIE/fo was practically useless. 

It was less obvious why these high-ranking strangers seemed unable to handle the truth.

“General,” said a dark-skinned man. “Are you proposing we abandon the TIE corps?”

Hux pressed the screen again, and it zoomed in on an exposed ion engine. “At the very least, the most basic TIE corps is woefully unequipped in comparison to Resistance fighters.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he replied, “our pilots are extensively trained.”

Pryde sneered. “Admiral Griss is correct,” he said. “Our elite troops don’t demonstrate any issue with crushing Resistance burrows.”

“Elite troops are never the ones defending a new occupation.” Hux gestured to the engine blueprint. “We sacrifice our progress because of this antiquated construction.”

“And what’s so antiquated about it?” Pryde sneered. “The construction is based on the Imperial TIE. These ships were a well-known symbol of naval superiority.”

“Updated for modern needs,” added Griss. 

Hux’s voice rose a decibel. “Not modern enough, given how frequently a single X-wing will decimate an entire unit.”

You wanted to groan. Against your will, you had to admit Hux was right. Orinda regularly saw straggling, crippled TIEs smash into the valley outside the hangar in attempts to land for repair. Mirna had pulled more pilots than you could count out of blazing wreckage.

“Do you suggest we change the basic TIE unit, then?” Griss asked.

“Perhaps,” Hux replied, “or we move to a different construction entirely.”

The other officers chuckled, murmurs rippling through the ranks again. 

“Supreme Leader,” Pryde said, “what he’s suggesting is absurd. Sienar-Jaemus manufactures perfectly appropriate and functional fighters at an affordable price to the First Order. It’s been done this way since the Empire.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat back in your chair. For a General of a government allegedly interested in innovation and progress, Pryde seemed to love sucking the Empire’s dick. The fact that they were refusing to even entertain Hux’s idea was, well…

“Perhaps we should place a double order for the basic fighters, sir,” Pryde continued. “To demonstrate their capability.”

You snorted. “Now that’s absurd.”

Every voice in the room died. Leather squelched, and you glanced up from your nails in time to see a dozen bodies shifting in their seats to turn and look at you. Inwardly, you cursed--you hadn’t had to practice volume control in months. 

At the head of the table, Kylo Ren stared. His expression, even to you, was indiscernible. But even if he was mad, you wouldn’t have cared. Not as long as he still intended on kicking you off the Steadfast without another word.

Shrugging, you said, “General Hux is right. The original TIE model is flawed. They lose out one-on-one almost every time.” Kylo still said nothing, the rest of the room too confused to interrupt you. “I guarantee there’s more credits spent on replacement models than it would cost to invest in something more versatile.”

Griss’s nose wrinkled, and he looked between you and Kylo. “I…” When Kylo offered no response, Griss settled on you. “I’m not sure what brought you here, ah… Lieutenant, but regardless of your purpose, you’re surrounded by superiors of the First Order. Don’t speak out of turn.”

“Right,” you said, “I do apologize, sir.  But you have to admit that this all is a little absurd. I see busted up basic TIEs all the time. They’re a failure.”

“Yes,” he replied, “and you are?”

“Chief of Operations on Orinda.”

“An outpost?” The room echoed with laughter, and you bristled. Griss gestured to you. “Supreme Leader, please, why is this woman here?”

Pryde nodded. “I know you have your reasons, sir, but surely she doesn’t belong in this room.”

“Maybe this woman knows what she’s talking about,” you mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Griss whipped around, leering at you. “Mind repeating yourself, Lieutenant?”

Volume control. Really needed to get better with that. 

Gathering a breath, you swallowed your ire. You could not spend all two hours on the Steadfast immediately making enemies with the military leaders of the First Order. Given Kylo’s state, you doubted he’d encourage your attitude. 

“My apologies,” you said, bowing your head, “I’m just. Nervous. Being on this ship for the first time.”

“Perhaps you’ve spent too much time on Orinda,” said Griss. “You’ve forgotten the hierarchy.”

“She needs re-education,” said the balding man.

The dark-skinned woman huffed. “Or a demotion.”

“Some form of discipline, surely.”

“Yes,” said Pryde with a glare. “Perhaps that should be arranged.”

Your heart skipped.

“Enough.”

Every person in the room spun, attention on Kylo Ren.

He was still inscrutable. Still gazing directly at you. 

A shiver spilled over your spine. Like instinct, your thighs pressed together. 

“General Hux,” he said. “Prepare a plan for the replacement of the basic TIE model.” A pause. No one spoke a word. “Dismissed.”

You remained in your seat as the other officers rose, their lips sealed as they filed out of the room. Hux scowled at you--ungrateful prick--and acknowledged Kylo’s order before leaving. Pryde scrutinized you, his focus flipping between you and his Supreme Leader as he stood from the table. 

“It’s time to leave, Lieutenant,” he said.

“I need a moment,” you replied, glancing at him. “Sir.”

Pryde turned to Kylo. “Sir?”

Kylo’s face was blank. “Dismissed, General.”

Whatever Pryde was thinking, he didn’t say. He offered deference to the Supreme Leader before strutting out, the blast door shutting behind him.

The moment it closed, the room thickened with heat, like stars vaporized the air. Sweat beaded your hairline, your tongue drying to paper. Every movement you thought to make was paused, paralyzed by confusion. Had it been four months ago, you’d be getting railed on top of the table or in his chair, you were sure of it. But Kylo seemed almost indifferent now. It neutered every response that came to mind.

Here you were, alone with Kylo Ren for the first time since you’d left. He was only meters away from you. And you had absolutely no idea what to do.

“Your time is limited, Lieutenant.”

A reminder he wanted you gone. You shook your head, chewing the inside of your lip. 

“The silencer is free to be inspected.”

Indignance tightened your chest. Your face was on fire.

“Or perhaps,” Kylo said, “you’d rather travel directly to Orinda.”

You whirled on him. “So you knew I was on Orinda the entire time?” Your frustration was unfettered. “You knew and just didn’t do anything about it? For four months?”

His stare didn’t yield. “Yes.”

“Yes?” you said. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say for yourself? How do you expect me to respond to that?” More heat gripped your neck. He was still. “Why do you want me gone so badly? You act like you don’t even want me around.”

“I don’t.”

The words were switchblades to your chest. You shook your head, gulped your pain.

“Uh. Okay. Wow.” Sighing, you continued, “But don’t you--I mean. You pleaded with me to stay.”

He said nothing.

“You... I know how you feel. You can’t hide that from me. Do you…” Your throat was tight. “Did something change?”

For four months, you had wondered what had been going on in Kylo Ren’s mind. Seeing him draped in the responsibility of the Supreme Leader of the First Order, hesitation crept into your gut. Within his gaze, perhaps only apparent to you, there was a black, terrible emptiness, like shadows reined in by his rage. Exhaustion hung in dark circles under his eyes and at his cheeks. His presence was as breathtaking as it ever had been, only haunted with the weight of the galaxy. 

For four months, you had wondered. You didn’t know, now, if you wanted the answer.

“You don’t belong here.” Kylo paused, then stood, moving toward the door. “Your presence is not warranted.”

“Warranted? That’s not what this is about.” You shot to your feet, intercepting his path. “You knew where I was, and you never once came to me! You left me there! Alone!” He side-stepped you, and you followed him, keeping your eyes chained to his. “Didn’t you miss me?” you asked. “Didn’t you think about me?”

He stalled. Exhaling through his nose, he spoke through his teeth. “Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you find me?” you said. “You promised!” 

Kylo stood, trapped in your stare, his fingers furling into fists.

“I know how you feel about me.” You advanced on him. “I know it.” 

You were so near you could feel his breath, count the individual strands of his hair, bask in the warmth of his body. A short inhale, and memory slammed you like gravity--the scent of his skin, his palms gripping your waist, his lips brushing your ear. The ache in your hands at night when they were not full of him, the bedtime yearning in your limbs when they were not wound around his. You had known him, known him, as if his blood ran in your veins.  

This was the closest you’d been to Kylo Ren in weeks upon weeks. Somehow, you only felt further away.

“Why?” you asked. “Why didn’t you find me?” After all of it, he only stared. It lit you with rage, and you bumped your chest with his. “Say something!”

The muscle in his jaw tightened. His shoulders rolled. But he was silent. 

A peal of bitter laughter escaped you. Whatever issues he had didn’t mater. You deserved more than what he was offering.

“Wow. Okay.” You shrugged, stepping back. “I don’t know who I was thinking about for these past four months, but it definitely wasn’t you.” Shaking your head, you turned toward the door. “Whatever, dude. Fuck you.”

You took a single step, and Kylo snatched your wrist, whipped you against his body. 

“You say that,” he breathed, “as if you haven’t been thinking about getting fucked since you arrived.”

Oxygen fled your lungs. Every blood cell in your body piled onto your cheeks and between your legs. In seconds, you were a throbbing, pent-up, swell of lust. 

You swallowed. “Oh, please,” you muttered. “You can’t distract me that easily. You know I need answers.”

“Hm.” Kylo scanned your figure. “So you say.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You tried to peel your wrist free. “Why didn’t you do this weeks ago, huh?”

His face darkened, his hold on you tightened. 

“You ask questions that have no answers.”

“Ugh. Get off.” Grunting, you shouldered him, body buffeting his like a flaccid wave. It would’ve been arousing, his strength, how utterly solid he was, if he wasn’t making you miserable in this moment. “You’re so full of it, man. Let me go. I’ll go repair your dumbass ship and you can send me back to Orinda, like you so clearly want.”

“You presume to understand what I want.” His voice was severe, a dull blade. “You will not stay here.” The ghost of a smirk fled his face. “But you won’t escape punishment when you’re gone.”

You shuddered, stuck out your chin. “Your punishments don’t scare me.”

Kylo growled. “Really.” A leather palm cupped the back of your neck, tugged you close. “Such confidence.”

You couldn’t help it. A tiny, excited whimper left you. Kylo shifted, his hand squeezed--

The projector in the table beeped. An incoming transmission. The both of you froze, staring at the blinking request on the interface.  You coughed, patted his chest as a signal to answer it. The knot in his throat bobbed, and he released you, crossing to the console and accepting the message.

Hux appeared in hologram form. “Supreme Leader,” he said, voice even more snivelly through the broadcast. “We received a distress signal from Orinda. Multiple Resistance fighters have been detected on radar. Requests for response from the officers stationed there have gone unanswered.”

The joints in your body locked. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“Permission to dispatch TIE units, sir,” Hux said.

Kylo was still. “Dispatch.”

“Yes, sir.”

The hologram winked out. Before you could process, your feet were moving you toward the door.

“I gotta go.” Your pulse pounded in your temple. The entirety of your crew was down there. By themselves. “I gotta go there. I gotta get there. I’m sorry, I know I said I would repair your ship but--”

“Stop.” 

“--it’s probably for the best anyway, I just gotta find some way there, I--”

He spoke your name like a command. You stopped. Stared into his tired, empty eyes. 

His chest fell in a small sigh. “We’ll take the Buzzard,” he said. “Come.”

Kylo Ren tread past you, through the blast doors, into the hallway. The tatters of your bewildered heart weren’t a priority right now. You followed him--your Supreme Leader.

[elionwriter]

PROMPT / DRAPLE OF A POSSIBLE FUTURE FIC (PART 2):

"I need your help, Mando" says Greef Karga in his holo-message one day. "I know how busy you are lately, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't so important and I didn't need someone I trust on this". When Din answers the call he learns the details of the mission: Greef had taken so much at heart the renovation and improvement of Nevarro that he had made contact and tried to help cells of patriots of other planets that wanted to attempt the same. One of said groups, on a backwashed planet of the Rim, was having some troubles with a Crime syndicate that thought their efforts would do bad for business. Din's mission was to meet these people and help them plan a strike against the criminal organisation.

Upon reaching the planet and looking around, Din sighs, thinking that it would take a miracle to rehabilitate the place. Everything and everyone is so dirty that he wonders how an epidemic hasn't broken out, the people looks like little, feral animals rather than sentients and he's pretty sure there are some commercial traffics going on that had been banned long before the Empire. Then again, he isn't really surprised, the laws and enforcements of the New Republic don't reach this part of the Galaxy, these planets don't even have representatives in the Senate to speak up for them. They're on their own.

It's as Din is waiting in a crowded square for his contact to arrive that he catches a set of eyes fixed on him. He had felt someone following him from the moment he had left his ship but they hadn't come out yet. He looks down at the creature staring at him with hudge magenta eyes, three of them, and quickly realises it's a child, a girl. She's of a species he has never seen before, with bright yellow skin and feathers covering her head (the yellow and fluff or her feathers is dampered by the grease and dirt), she has four feathery arms and bony legs. She smiles brightly at him and waves. "Need anything, kid?" He asks. "You're sooooo shiny and cool! Can I be your friend?" She asks, voice full of awe. There is no deception in that statement and Din chuckles at it. Patiently he tries to shoo away the child telling her that he is waiting for someone and that things are about to get dangerous.

She's completely undeterred by his words, smile still plastered on her face. So he follows a different line: "Shouldn't you go back to your parents?" " No." "Are they around here?" "No" "Aren't they worried you're out here on your own?" "No" He considers it a moment then asks "Do you...have parents?" "No" she answers with the same airly smile of before. "Anyone that takes care of you?" "No" "A home to go back to?" "No" "Friends...?" "Everyone is my friend. Do you also want to be my friend?" Din sighs, starting to loose patients, wondering what the hell is his contact waiting for to show up. Before he can say anything else the kid points at his blaster "Did you kill anyone with that?" "Yes, I did." "Cooool! Was it a really bad guy? Did a lot of blood come out?" As a last resort Din pulls out a handful of credits and proposes "If I buy you something to eat, will you leave?" She thinks it over a second and asks "can I have caramelled Meiloorun?" Din nods "Even the big one?" Din gets her the treat and watches her skip away happily. It's not long after that he is approached by the right hand man of the organisation he's supposed to aid.

He is brought back to their headquarters and they discuss matters out. Din is surprised to find that they are a group of very level minded and shrewd kids with very good projects for the future and feels more prompted to help them out. They study a plan to strike against the criminal organisation and call it a night. Din is welcomed to stay at their place. As he steps out of the run down building to catch a breather and take a look around he finds the same kid from before waiting for him outside. He asks how long she has been standing there and finds she had been standing there for almost the entirety of his stay. "Hadn't we agreed that you would leave?" He asks "I did leave. Then I came back!" Din sighs. She asks for his name but luckily doesn't really wait for an answer before giving her own. "My name is Ky'lla. Are we friends now?" Din tries very hard to mentally create an interference over the name. Learning her name is definitely not wise and he wonders why she is so stubborn on the idea of befriending him of all people. But as he notices the way she studies with shiny eyes his armour he thinks he starts to understand. "Are you following me because you like my armour?" "Yes! I like shiny things and this is the shiniest thing I've ever seen! Also, you're big and buff and you're really nice too! You bought me candy! Nobody ever buys me candy!" She says excitedly. Din known he shouldn't ask but the question is out before he can stop himself. "Where do you come from? What happened to your family?" She thinks it over a moment then points her finger towards the sky "My homeworld is in that direction. I came here with mom, but mom died a long time ago'. It's sad but I have a lot of friends now." Something tells Din that all the "friends" she talks about are just a bunch of random strangers and passer bye; that befriending everyone she meets is the kid's subconscious response to her loss. "Don't you remember the name of your planet? Or of any planet nearby?" "No. But I am pretty sure it's in that direction" she says pointing in a different position of the sky altogether. "And...were the people of your planet all of your same species?" "Yes, they were." Great, Din thinks, there's really nothing he can do for Ky'l..THE KID considering he has no idea where "there" in space is and has never seen anyone of her likes before. He sees her yawning. Well, there is one thing he can do. "Do you have anywhere to sleep?" "There's the back alley a few streets over with comphy sacks..." She answers and Din pushes her inside the building "tonight you're sleeping in here" he says directing her towards the room meant for him. She flops over on the bed and asks "can you tell me a story?" "Go to sleep" "But if you killed people you must know stories of battles and duels! Can you tell me the most scary one you know?" Din sighs but for some reason finds himself flopping on the floor, near the bed and telling her what they told him, the first nights he was brought into the covert, of the Mythosaurs and how the Mandalorians learned to tame and fly them. He falls asleep as the words and memories cling to him, as he envisions the pendant with the Mythosaur skull he had given Grogu. The pain for loss of him spreads through his tired body like a fresh wound. Ky'lla falls asleep whispering with awe the word "Mandalorian".

In the morning, he wakes her up, gives her a few ration packs and tells her that she really must stop following him now. For the first time she looks actually sad, but doesn't protest as she goes.

Din catches up with the rest of the group and together they prepare the assault to the criminal syndacate's main objective. At first everything goes as planned but quickly things get messy. Din realizes he has to expose himself more than he intended. Firing up the jetpack, he flies up to the targeted power generator and places a frag mine over it. He fires at will at all the enemies that try to approach but one expecially sneaky killer works his way behind him and, preparing his sniper rifle, aims at a junction in between Din's armour. Din notices him a moment too late as the trigger snaps. He braces for an impact that doesn't come. He looks at the man with surprise and finds terror and bewildermente on the other's face as well as he tries to fire over and over. The rifle is insistently empty. Din takes the moment and turns it to his advantage firing his own blaster which knocks the assassin down cold. "I was the one to steal the rifle's charges. Was I good or what!?" Chirpes in a familiar voice. Din is only partially surprised to find Ky'lla popping out of nowhere, proudly waving the rifle's cartridge around. He wants to thank her, ask her how in kriffin hell she managed that and scold her for putting herself in danger's way for him but his pragmatic mind refrained from that. He quickly pulls the child in his arms and flies them both away from there moments before the charge on the power generator goes off in a hudge explosion. "Whoaaa" Ky'lla exclaimes over his shoulder as flames and electric shocks destroy the surrounding space. The patriots cheer happily below as the last standing members of the criminal syndacate run away.

Din is celebrated like a hero but he pays the compliments no mind. One of the young women of the group cuts off a ringed finger from one of their victims and tosses it to Din "there's a hudge bounty on this one! You should collect it, it's the least we can do to thank you." Din accepts the prize and parts ways with the group, Ky'lla following him around like a shadow. When he reaches his new ship and opens the ramp to it Ky'lla takes a shy step backwards and says "I guess it's goodbye, then. It was nice being your friend..." Din smirks at her from behind the helmet and says "Do you really think I don't know you're just going to sneak into the ship somehow? Let's save time and come in." Ky'lla looks at him in disbelief "you really mean it?!" Din signals her to follow and with a high pitched squeel she goes to hug his legs. "I've got some friends, I'm sure one of them will accept to take care of you" he says, even as part of him already knows that the kid will stick to his side.

Din prepares the launch sequence and soon they are travelling in hyper space. He sends Ky'lla to immediately take a shower in the 'fresher and in the meantime he sends a message to Karga to report on the end of the mission and to prepare the money for the bounty he collected.

Ky'lla comes back to the cockpit looking ten times brighter and fluffier than she did before. "Since I'm staying with you for a while, can you teach me to fight like you do?!" Asks the child. "I could be very good! With four arms I could grab the bad guys from the scruff and tickle them to death!" She says stating her case. "Do you really want that? It's a difficult and intense training..." "Sure! And can I have an armour like yours too?!" "You must become a Mandalorian and earn each piece of it to have one." He says carefully testing the ground. "Then that's what I want to be: a Mandalorian! Can I?" "Well, technically everyone can become a Mandalorian..." "THAT'S AWESOME! Till yesterday I was no one and now I'm gonna become a Mandalorian!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" The child starts running around bursting at the seams with happiness. Din laughs. "I want to learn everything there is to know about Mandalorians!" She exclaims and Din sighs out a "Yeah, so do I" "Why, don't you know everything about them already? You are one" He explains that there are very few Mandalorians left, that a lot of their history and culture has been wiped out and that he had very limited access to what was left growing up.

Eventually, the kid tires out and falls asleep in her seat. Din looks back at her and replays all the recent events in his mind, trying to figure out just how he found himself with a new kid under his responsibility. This had been a wrong move. The last time he did so broke his heart and even if it was the right thing to do, he doesn't know if he can get over that same loss again. His latest adventure however lights up a sudden and inspired idea in his mind. He reaches for the console and sends out two holo messages. One to Luke Skywalker and the other to Bo-katan Kryze asking her where to meet up and stating with confidence that he has a proposition for her.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 107 prt 1

107

“Careful! You’ve only just got out of hospital this morning”

Lance rolled his eyes at Keith. He totally hadn’t noticed that at all. He totally hadn’t enjoyed standing in the sun, and feeling the cold wind across his. After a week of tests and monitoring, Lance was sooooo not in a rush to go back to that room again

“I’m fine”

“Here, Let’s get you to the sofa. You should be resting”

Keith looped his arm around his waist as if he thought Lance as some kind of wounded soldier and not 5 weeks pregnant. He was doing so much better for having rested and seen his friends.

They went the half truth. A lie that weighed heavily. Pidge and Hunk had come up with Rieva to see him. Hunk in tears that his best bud had had an accident, Pidge having some not so nice words for not letting them come see him sooner. The first three days all he’d pretty much done was sleep. When Mami came, Keith gave up his position beside him in bed, Lance falling asleep against his mother. When he’d woken again, his Mami was talking to Keith about how he’d been as a child. It was embarrassing. His Mami had come to see him three times, thanks to Coran and Shiro picking her up and dropping her off. Krolia had come by to check on him when he’d sent Keith off to find a decent cup of coffee before VOLTRON wound up burnt to the ground. His friends had come twice. Matt was in tears as he apologised, his, and Rieva’s, scents making Lance’s stomach roll, yet he got to thank both of them which made up for the discomfort. Lance knew he couldn’t put off telling his mother, but Coran wanted to do another ultrasound the following week. Provided things were still okayish, he planned to tell her then. Making her worry needlessly over something they couldn’t control... he didn’t want that, but it was hard not to blurt everything out because she was... she was his guiding light.

Forced to sit on the sofa, Lance patted Kosmo as he climbed into his lap. Keith pulling him off him

“Babe, you’ve got to be careful. You can’t let him climb on you like that”

“Coran wouldn’t have let me out if it wasn’t alright. I feel better. I’m doing better”

They were keeping the baby, but not telling anyone for the time being. He was too tired to tell his Mami, and honestly was avoiding the conversation for now until it’d sunk in

“You still need to take it easy”

“I am. I don’t know how much easier I can take things”

Keith argued that he should take time off work. Lance disagreed. Keith was cranky. Lance stressed. Shiro stepping in to gently pursued Keith that as long as Lance was at VOLTRON he was getting the best care he could. Keith had work throughout the day, suiting Lance fine as it meant cuddles at the end of it. His body was telling him to rest, and he was listening

“Maybe the bed would be better?”

Reaching up, Lance pulled Keith down by his shirt to awkwardly kneel at his level. He didn’t want Keith to leave, still, this wasn’t about him. Keith needed to head to work, the scent of him in the apartment was strong enough to make him feel safe. Pursing his lips, his boyfriend kissed him gently like he’d wanted him to do. Smiling from the kiss, Lance hoped it’d relieved some of Keith’s worries

“Babe, I’m fine. I’ve got the TV and my soap operas to catch up on”

“I should be here”

Lance rolled his eyes again, before kissing Keith

“I’m not going to die from loneliness just because you’ve got to go to work. I’ve got my phone thanks to Rieva, go enjoy being bossed around. I’m just gonna look at some stuff online and watch TV”

“You need to cancel my birthday weekend too”

Lance didn’t want to fight, but that wasn’t happening

“We’re still going”

“You can’t be traipsing across the country side”

“First off, who says “traipsing”. Secondly, I am living for that get away. Coran said if everything stays good, we’ll be able to go. Even if I can’t go, I still want everyone else to have fun”

“But the baby...”

“Isn’t going anywhere if I can help it. I’ll call if anything happens, which it won’t. You’re fussing too much”

“You’re not fussing enough!”

Lance let out a chuckle

“If you’re this bad, I can’t imagine what you’re gonna be like when I pop this baby out. I’m fine, I’ll be fine. You’re only at work until 5, then you’re back home”

“That’s ages”

“Babe, it’s 6 hours”

“Seeeee ages!”

Not for a vampire it wasn’t. But to be without Keith it was. He wasn’t going to be selfish. If it got too much, he’d take himself to bed and sleep until his boyfriend returned

“Time will pass sooner than you think with all your secret Blade work”

“I’d rather be here”

“I know. Look, I won’t even do housework. I’ll be good. Here, bathroom, kitchen or bed. That’s it”

“You’re not supposed to be moving around”

“I’m not going to be running laps of the apartment. Not with this little one to think of. Now give me another kiss”

Keith tried to draw out leaving as long as possible. Lance finding it cute. When his boyfriend finally left, he pulled his phone out as Kosmo jumped up on the sofa for pats. Keith wanted them to work this out together which meant he needed to understand more about what being pregnant entailed so he knew if something was wrong. Having a human baby inside of him, Coran wanted him to graze throughout the day in an attempt to get down as many calories as he could for the little one. Keith had to pick up a few things from the chemist on the way home from work, Lance not reminding him as he seemed sad enough over leaving. His boyfriend was basically an overgrown puppy.

After an hour of reading too much, he dropped his phone at the sound of someone outside the apartment. Kosmo growling, before leaping off the sofa and rushing to the door. Lance felt the need to bolt to safety. To lock himself in Keith’s room. He felt foolish when Shiro unlocked the door. Of course Shiro would be back. He was stuck on night shifts and surveillance, though Lance wasn’t sure if that was related to Honerva or trying to keep the peace. Letting himself in, Shiro went about locking the door again and setting the alarm, before scooping Kosmo up for pats. The hunter jumping as he noticed Lance, Lance flinching momentarily

“Sorry, Lance. I completely forgot you’d be home today. Nice to see you out of that place”

Lance forced himself to relax. Shiro didn’t sound mad. Tired, but not mad. He’d stressed repeatedly that was okay for Lance to stay, but Lance still felt guilty as he couldn’t really contribute anything to the household lest Keith worry

“Hey, Shiro. Uh, how was work?”

“Long. I’m ready for bed. How’s freedom?”

“Better than four white walls... Keith’s made me promise not to do anything”

Shiro chuckled, Kosmo licking at his face as Shiro tried to be out of reach and failed

“I can imagine. Don’t worry about him. He’ll settle down”

“Dude, we both know that’s not true. He doesn’t even want me getting up to use the bathroom”

Keith had to help him use the bathroom more than once thanks to his lack of energy and Lance had felt an all time low over his useless

Shiro chuckled again

“He’s just excited. I’ve already been told I’m not allowed to make your kid lame like me”

A smile formed on the edges of Lance’s lips

“You’re gonna be like the favourite uncle an he’s already jealous. This kid is going to be so confused. A werewolf for uncle. A slightly cursed uncle. A grandmother pushing 90. A hunter for an uncle... I could go on...”

Shiro dropped Kosmo down on the sofa, his fur son giving him a cocky look over his shoulder, before jumping off to trot after Shiro into the kitchen. His love for Lance lost to the slightest chance of a treat from his uncle

“On the plus side I don’t think anyone outside of a royal family has had this much protection. I’m gonna make some coffee, you want one?”

“Nah, I’m good... if you want to watch TV I can move”

“It’s fine. I usually just have it on for background noise until I fall asleep. Besides, I don’t think we’ve been alone like this for a while”

That was true. Keith was like a guard dog when Lance was in VOLTRON’s infirmary

“Not since Keith decided he bitumen needed his skin more than him”

Keith had the scars from the accident. The lighter ones would fade one day, yet Lance would never forget to treasure the darker ones as proof Keith was still alive. His boyfriend a little self conscious, but Lance didn’t mind. Shiro hummed, setting about getting his mug out and his coffee made

“Yeah, that sounds about right. How are you feeling, mother, or is father, to be?”

He wasn’t the first man to be pregnant, though his plumbing was a little unusual

“Father to be. And I know it’s been a week, but it’s still pretty surreal”

“I can’t imagine. I already talked to Keith, and he’s still pretty shocked”

“I don’t blame him. This wasn’t exactly planned”

“Still, it gives you guys hope for the future. I hope we can wrap this case up soon”

That’s be nice. Nice to know Lotor had left and life was returning to normal

“So do I... I know I’m not supposed to be prying, but if you need someone to bounce ideas off, I’m here. Literally. Keith seems pretty keen on me avoiding going home. He really has an issue at the thought of me and stairs”

“I know you couldn’t help it, but you could have been less dramatic about announcing you’re pregnant”

Lance felt himself laugh before he realised his mood had actually picked up. Shiro wasn’t Keith, but having someone in the apartment washed away the loneliness he didn’t know he felt. He’d been so spoilt for attention lately

“Trust me, I would have picked a different time too. Maybe, like, in a few years.... like, when Honerva was dealt with and Keith was in a better place?”

“He’s already in a better place. He worked his arse off for the Blades, and still felt like nothing. Now matter what Adam and I did or said. I’d been with Blades so long that I guess I was used to their...”

Shiro paused as he tried to think of how to word it

“Particular brand of weirdness?”

Shiro snorted, Lance kind of happy he could talk to Shiro like this without pretence or being careful with his words

“Yeah. Pretty much. He’s really come out of his shell”

“He’s still a little anger loaf at heart. He always had it in him”

“He has. Lately he’s come to see that, and as his brother, I’m relieved”

Shiro and Keith were tight. This little one had him wishing he had someone like Shiro

“You’re a good brother to him. I can’t help but be jealous”

“You know what they say, family is what you make it. Blood doesn’t matter when it comes to being there for those you care about”

Lance’s hand drifted to his belly. He didn’t really know why, but rubbing his belly seemed to have some psychosomatic effect on making him feel better

“You okay there?”

Catching Shiro watching, Lance ducked his head

“Yeah. This little one definitely wasn’t planned, I want you to know, I’d never deny Keith access to them, or you. Keith and I are still in the honeymoon phase, despite all that’s happened. Sometimes I can’t help but caught up in all the “what ifs””

“I could say I know what you mean, but I only have a vague idea. Keith was already all grown up when I found him. Things really weren’t great at first”

“How not great are we talking?”

“He stole my car. He eventually came back, but he was so full of anger and confusion. It took a long time to build that trust up”

That actually sounded definitely like something Keith would do. He lashed out something fierce when he was trying to protect himself from developing feelings

“I can’t even imagine. This one has so much love around them already. Shiro, if anything happens, you’ll be there, right?”

“Nothing’s gone to happen. I know what you’re asking, and you don’t need to ask”

“I kind of do. I haven’t told Keith but my anxiety has been pretty whack. Sleeping so much helped keep the thoughts away”

“I’m sure he already knows. He sent me a long list of things I’m not allowed to do or say, and I’m supposed to make sure you eat”

Lance groaned. Food was not his friend. It went down and it came up. At least here he’d have some form of privacy for that bit

“He’s obsessed with that. I don’t think he thought about it when he sentenced me to sitting on the sofa”

“He knows you like Italian, had me pick up some last night. Then he sent me on a chase to find garlic knots too. I know I’ve known you six months now, but I don’t think I can cope with a vampire who eats garlic”

“Which is weirder, that I walk about in the sun, or, that I eat garlic?”

“Definitely the sun. I wasn’t sure you were a vampire to begin with. It’s not like they teach us that vampires are out and about in the sun”

“Coran says it’s because I turned so young. Then again, we don’t really go up in flames until after the third degree burns”

“Did he say anything about the baby?”

“They should be human from what I understand. Lotor already seems to know I’m pregnant. Keith says I’m being paranoid”

The more he thought about the more he was certain Lotor knew, and this body knew too. That’d by why he’d subconsciously tried to protect his belly

“Maybe we can throw Lotor out in the sun?”

Lance laughed again. How he wished

“I don’t think Allura would be too happy. She’s already mad he’s being so useless”

Bringing his cup of coffee over, Lance tried not to smell it. He didn’t know what it was about the scent... it just made him feel gross. Sitting down, Shiro put his feet up on the coffee table, Kosmo half sat on for not moving. It was now a battle of wills

“They used to date, from the sound of it?”

“Yeah. Long before I was born. They were closer thanks to Honerva and the whole fae thing. Then he kicked her heart to the curb by leaving. He didn’t cheat on her. I thought that was it, but it was him making all these plans to leave then leaving without telling her. She’s not so quick to forgive. She’s really making Lotor work for her time”

“Good on her. I did worry she’d let her past feelings sweep her away”

“They did... kind of. She’s kind of a bit like Keith. Really good at not forgiving and forgetting. Not that that’s a bad thing. The pain fucking sucks”

“You know what else sucks? Kosmo. Move it buster, off!”

Kosmo crawled into Lance’s lap, ignoring Shiro telling him to get off. The doggo shooting Shiro a wounded glance as he made himself comfortable on Lance

“Kosmo, off!”

Huffing sadly, Kosmo stood right on Lance’s junk before using him to jump. Lance groaning as he drew his knees up

“Paw to the junk?”

Shiro asked sympathetically, Lance nodding

“He’s best boy, but those paws are no joke”

“He’s good for finding the wrong places to stand. Managed to do it to me and Curtis once...”

“Ugh. I feel your pain. Keith’s been trying to keep him off me. He thinks Kosmo’s going to hurt the baby”

“Kosmo is boisterous”

“Kosmo is best boy, living his best life. Keith brought him to visit and he ended up getting into the cupboards. I think he had the time of his doggy life messing up the room”

“I bet that went well with Keith”

“I slept. Angry Keith can be scary”

“That he can. At least he wasn’t throwing knives”

“This is true. Do you want the remote?”

“Nah. It’s fine. Curtis had been trying to get me into soap operas”

“That’d be my fault. I thought he’d be here”

He missed Curtis. Maybe in some way Curtis was kind of like the cousin he’d lied and said he was. His bluntness wasn’t always comforting, but at least he didn’t hide things

“Matt and him have been hanging out with Sam a lot lately. Whatever the deal with his curse is, it gave Sam some pretty interesting readings”

“Appliances don’t seem Curtis friendly”

“Nope. Keith’s banned him from going near the coffee machine”

“I’m not surprised. These days I’m more surprised when he finds a way to function before coffee”

“You should see him after a mission. He has to have his coffee or he’s a moody bastard”

Lance laughed, he knew that too well

“Yeah. He tells me about it in chat, or calls if it’s around 6 because he knows I usually get up then”

“You’ve got him trained”

A blush appeared in Lance’s cheeks. He could always count on Keith to message him. Now he was thinking about him solely, he really missed him, a small whine escaping before he could stop himself

“What was that?”

“Apparently I do that. I’m putting it down to this whole breeder thing... it kind of happens”

“Because you’re missing Keith?”

“Pretty much”

“I’m not Keith, but if you need a hug...”

Lance very shyly leaned against Shiro who sling his arm over his shoulders

“I’m sorry. He’s spoilt me so much that I feel a little lost when he’s not here”

“You don’t have to explain, kiddo. You’re going through a lot right now”

“I’m freaking the fuck out internally”

“I would be too. But you’ll get through this”

“Yeah... yeah, I know. I want to tell Mami, but I decided to wait until the ultrasound next week”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Especially right now. She... she protected me so much growing up. My family say I leach off her... but when I was making enough money, the first thing I did was get us a better house and I never wanted her to go into a home”

“If you want to bring her here, I understand”

“Thanks, but this is your home. It’s like I tried to explain to Keith. You and he need a place you know is safe. Mami doesn’t mean to talk but sometimes it comes out. I don’t want to put you guys in danger”

Shiro ruffled his hair

“It makes helping you hard. I’ve always respected that you respect the people around you. I never should have been so harsh on you when I came back”

“You had a lot going on. You didn’t know how Keith was going to be and you left your whole life behind to come here. You lost a lot thanks fo vampires...”

Still, it felt nice to have Shiro apologise properly. He didn’t blame Shiro at all for worrying over Keith

“Things got really rough after Adam. Keith blamed himself for so long. I should have talked him sooner than I did, but I didn’t... I wasn’t there yet”

“Sometimes it’s like that. Adam was important to you. Plus, your brother doesn’t always phrase things right. It took you to point it out for us to realise he didn’t have a heart condition but a crush”

“Don’t remind me. I swear every grey I have is because of him”

“If you think that’s bad, try looking like a teenager. I’m sick of it”

“Some vampires do seem to age”

“Yeah, I’m still a baby vampire really. I’ve got to be pushing like a century. Then again, look at Lotor. He’s old as fuck and prances around like a college jock-strap wanker”

Shiro chuckled

“I don’t think anyone has ever called him that before”

“If you can’t tell, I have pretty strong opinions on vampires”

“Oh, I can tell. Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“I’m alright. If I fall asleep, just leave me here. I’ve got most of my strength back, but I still feel really drained”

“Emotional stress will do that. Besides, not to brag or anything, but I’m pretty sure I could lift you up”

“Dude, I’ve totally put muscle on”

“Sure you have”

Lance pouted. His ego annoyed. He’d never been in better shape, other than being fatigued and pregnant. He’d never worked out as much as he had over the last few months, and though undead. He was sure he fitter than ever

“I totally have. And I’ve trained with Matt, Curtis, Keith, and Lotor. I’m deceptively heavy”

“And still Keith manages to carry you around”

Keith made it look easy and it wasn’t fair. His boyfriend wasn’t a muscle meat head, instead he was like deceptively strong

“Is this a sibling rival thing? Who can pick up and carry the vampire around?”

“Maybe?”

Lance groaned at him. He didn’t want to be in the middle of that particular fight

“Please don’t pick me up and carry me around. Let me pretend I’m tough and manly”

“You’re a tuff and manly twig”

Ouch... His gremlin would have laughed herself stupid if she’d heard

“Now you sound like Pidge”

“She’s a smart one. Nah, you’re fine the way you are. I won’t move you if you don’t want to be, but if you need help, let me know”

“Thanks, Shiro. Honestly I’m zonked, but I don’t know if I’m gonna freak out being moved. I don’t want to risk it”

“Alright. Now, what the hell is going on in this show?”

*

Keith was flustered as he left work. Krolia had pulled him aside to ask if he was okay, Keith knew she was trying to ask if he’d read her letter yet. He hadn’t, then he’d been snappy towards her without meaning to. His mother kind of seemed like a different person these days. More human and more approachable... and that had him thinking maybe he’d been unfair to her for a while now. It took Lance getting pregnant to actually fucking get it. He’d never leave Lance like she had, but if he had to live in constant fear of bringing home werewolves or vampires on his tail, he could see how not going home was an option he might be forced to entertain. His dad hadn’t been a loner. Stray feelings of his dad having friends lingered then disappeared when he tried to focus. Maybe if his dad had had friends like his and Lance’s... No. Going down that road only brought up the pain of the past. He’d awkwardly apologised to her in his own way before leaving, calling Shiro as he did.

When Shiro didn’t answer, Keith ran all the way to the apartment. He hadn’t tried Lance’s phone. His lover needed his rest, as tempting and as hard as it was not to message him. Letting himself into the apartment, Keith melted at the sight in front of him. Shiro and Lance were both asleep on the sofa, Kosmo cuddled into Lance’s side, wagging his tail as his tongue lolled out. Yeah. He was kind of ready to yell, and kind of jealous, but Lance had needed comfort from the look of it, and Shiro had stepped up to be there for him. Leaving the alarm too long, Kosmo started howling as the alarm went off. Lance and Shiro both jumping as they were rudely awakened. Hurriedly Keith turned the alarm off, the apartment falling silent after a way too long moment. Damn it. He should have got a photo of Lance and Shiro sleeping. His brother, his dog, and his boyfriend. His little family safe and well... and now wide awake.

Closing the door, Keith dropped his backpack next to it. Lance was rubbing at his ears, Shiro trying to bring Kosmo under control. His poor boy hated the alarm

“Sorry. I didn’t punch the code in in time”

[makeyourownmyth]

best seen in 2020.

My usual caveats from previous years are still applicable here: I don’t watch most of the major nominations the years they come out, and I’m usually not much for theaters and/or current TV. However, due to the pandemic, we watched a loooooooot of content. Here’s just a list of movies that I watched or rewatched this year, that were neither terrible, nor great, but I want to make note of:

Toy Story 4, The Brothers Bloom, Happiest Season, The Peanut Butter Falcon, Moana, Mr. Right, Moulin Rouge, Ocean’s Eleven, Spring Breakers, X-Men: Dark Phoenix (this might have been the worst movie I watched this year?), Widows, Gattaca, Black Klansman, Primer, It 2, Shazam (this maybe should have gone on the Honorable Mentions - it was fun), Training Day, Parasite (OK, now I have to update my Honorable Mentions), The Green Book, Strange Days, Elf, Love & Basketball, Above the Rim, Coach Carter.

That being said, there was some bad stuff, and I try not to shit on any artist’s creations too much, because I know no one sets out to make something bad, but these didn’t work for me. 

Anti

Uncut Gems - It’s not that it was BAD, it was just too stressful for me to enjoy.

Brick - It wasn’t even close to enjoyable on a rewatch that I encouraged my partner to take on for the first time. I felt bad. 

Hereditary - Neither a scary movie, nor a good movie.  

The Witch - Same, but maybe better made?

Under The Skin - Jesus, this was terrible. Maybe I’m not artsy enough to get it?

Now, however, let’s get to the good stuff. 

Honorable Mention TV

Avatar - I can’t legitimately put it on the Best Of list, because I’m not done yet, but I’m on Book 3, after finally actually getting started. I think I tried to start this in 2016, and i know all my nerd friends have been yelling at me for a long time because I haven’t gotten to it yet, and as someone who’s almost done, I can say: they were right! It’s great. 

Ozark - S1 was great. It fell off a fucking CLIFF after that. Ignore people who tell you that you HAVE to watch this. They’re wrong. It’s fine. 

The Last Dance - I know the world is obsessed with Michael Jordan, and I’m glad it came out when it did, but really, all it did for me was confirm that he’s an asshole who was very fortunate to play when he did. And also that the Bulls were fucking phenomenal. 

His Dark Materials - Neither as bad as some of my friends think, nor nearly as good as the books (obviously) but also not good enough that I’ve even started S2 yet, so....I guess it’s fine? 

The Mandalorian S2 - I think they know what they’re doing, and it’s super enjoyable, and I loved the ending, but I’m also curious as to where they’re going now. 

Fargo S3 - Given how good the rest of the series is (other than my distaste for S2, dealt with below, and out of step with pop culture) I thought this one was a misstep, 

Orphan Black - I cannot believe how late I was to this, and how good it still was. It really fell apart toward the end, but the acting was incredible, and the fact that they got to tell the story they wanted to was amazing. 

Best TV

7. All the Smoke with Kobe (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3R3KIyEgCgc) - Maybe it was just his death, but it hits hard, and I miss him. Does this even count as TV? 

6. Looking for Alaska - It felt like gratuitous masochism to watch this and enjoy it, being 20 years older than when I fell for it, and feeling ashamed of the young person I was, but even knowing what was coming, I was weeping when it happened. Even knowing that they were ultimately going on a fruitless search and yelling at the TV while the Colonel and Pudge were searching for “signs” and hating them for it, I remember feeling like everything HAD to happen for a reason when I was this young... So yeah. It’s pure nostalgia for me. I’d be super interesting in hearing how kids responded to it. 

5. Locke and Key - I get that some people feel like they don’t need old shit in a new medium, but for me, I’m always up to try it out. If it’s fun, I’ll stick with it. And this is. It’s fun, it’s got some of the old shit, it’s got some new shit, and it’s a treat to see my favorite comic of the last decade in a new medium. Haters need a new bit. 

Fargo s1 and s4 (I didn’t love S3) - I know that I’m in the minority here, but I think 1 and 4 are the best and 2 was good, and 3 was fine. I literally watched all of this show this year, though, so I didn’t have the same time to digest as others. But I think that’s a benefit in some regards? 

4. Magicians s5 - One of the saddest conversations of the last year to two was when a nerd friend of mine said he didn’t like The Magicians because all of the characters were whiny and self-indulgent. For me, that was almost literally the point: they shoved Q into the corner and told the story of the others (at least one episode quite self-referentially so) and it was so much better for that. I wish it hadn’t ended, but I’m glad they left it where they did, because it was so good.  

3. Devs esp. The beginning of e5 - Jesus. The show of the year? Except for the fact that Watchmen came out at the tail end of last year, and I didn’t have it on my 2019 list? I mean, honestly, is there a show more tailored to me? I’m not gonna get into any spoilers, but it’s a quick watch, and it’s fucking fantastic. Watch it, have your mind blown by the concept, especially in the beginning sequence of E5, and then stick around for the subpar ending where basically all of the threads are resolved in the least good way. 

2. Watchmen - This deserves multiple re-watches and all the praise that people heaped upon it. 

1. The Good Place - I know, objectively, that Watchmen was a better show than The Good Place. But this is my list, and I’ll be damned if anything overtakes my favorite sitcom (maybe of all time?) for best of the year. I know it barely just ended this year, and there’s plenty of acclaim to go around for this show, but honestly, every time I talk to anyone about it, it feels like they kind of laugh it off. This show is not only worth your time, but should almost be considered must-watch material. If more people watched this show, we wouldn’t need the insult “sophomoric” to describe people who’ve just had their minds blown by Philosophy 101, and we’d be better off as a species. 

Honorable Mention Movies

In this order, and you can take the comedies and make them the only honorable mentions, if you’d like to make a nice, even top 10. (Until I saw Tenet the night before I posted this.( (And then I looked back at the playing cards that we use to randomly choose movies and I found that I needed to modify the Honorable Mentions and the Best Of lists.) 

21 and 22 Jump Street - In general, I’m not a fan of comedies. So I’m happy I watched these, thanks to Nathan Zed, and they’re funny. Good work guys. 

Palm Springs - Apparently there’s now backlash against Groundhog Day? I dunno, man, it was fun, and all the actors seemed like they were having a good time, and I was down for it. 

Parasite - I can’t add anything to this that hasn’t already been shouted from the rooftops, so let me just briefly say that I thought it was great, but it didn’t quite make the list of best. The combo of genres was great, the cast was fantastic, but what I loved the most about it was how quiet it was.

Best Movies

10. Blinded by the Light - Way more resonant than I thought it’d be from the previews, and I already thought it was gonna be stellar. I didn’t take into account TIME along with place, and that made a hell of a difference for this movie. 

9. Shoplifters - Yeesh. What a tough watch, but so good, and so necessary. For me, I think we watched it back to back to back with Parasite and I, Tonya, and this one just stood out so much more. The storyline was softer all the way through, but really had gravitas simultaneously. 

8. Tenet - It was fucking fun! I don’t get the hate! I liked it, I’ll like it more next time I see it, and I wish I’d seen it on the big screen, but I’m super glad I could see it on my TV! 

7. I, Tonya - Geez, what a powerhouse of acting. Not only did they get me to feel good about the villain of my childhood, they got me to feel good about Margot Robbie, who I’d only thought of as a hot lady before. Superb acting from everyone else, too, and what a great pick up to be like, yeah, this is the story we’re gonna tell. 

6. I Am Not Your Negro - I avoided watching it for so long because I was already depressed this year, and I didn’t think I needed any more of that, but it turns out I did, and I always do, from Baldwin. He’s a master for a reason. 

5. Hamilton - I know there was some backlash with the time difference, and I’m sure it was better to see it pre-2016 in the theater, where it’s meant to be seen, but I’m not a billionaire New Yorker, and I was plenty happy to see it when and where I could. 

4. Won’t You Be My Neighbor - I mean...what do you think? It’s so much exactly what you’re thinking it is, but then it’s even better, because it’s the real deal, and he was so good, and it’s so pure. Watch it. 

3. Her Smell - Elizabeth Moss has already gotten all the acclaim, but to play this different of a role, in a movie that felt as stressful as Uncut Gems, but pulled off an actual plot so much more successfully? I can’t believe this one didn’t get more pub, but then again, yes I can: it’s a movie about a girl band that rages against the machine, and she’s got severe issues. Small surprise that the people didn’t react well. Seek this one out! 

2. Arrival - Yes, I am going to totally cheat and put a movie that’s appeared on my list (sooooo long ago) as the #2 entry this year. You know why? Cuz fuck 2020, and this is a great movie, and it’s the movie that made me feel second best this year. It’s incredible, and I know people appreciated it in its time, but I feel like they should appreciate it even more. 

1. Moonlight - It’s not a shock, nor am I trying to appease anyone with anything. It’s just that I finally watched it, and it’s the best movie I saw this year. I don’t think I could possibly add anything to the authentic critics who have already heaped praise upon it, but I do have to say that it’s all due, and so much more. The acting obviously stands out, but the direction, from the color palettes, to the choice of when and where (and how) to break it up, are all masterful choices.  

[maxrev]

Snapchat Shenanigans

For Virmire Week @spectrekaidanalenko​

Shepard and Kaidan overhear a convo between Ash and her youngest sister, Sarah. Shepard can't help but be curious and wants to know more. Kaidan is just the innocent bystander who gets roped into a challenge. 

Ashley grinned at the screen as she talked to her youngest sister, Sarah. A pang of loneliness and longing hit her so strongly, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. She missed her mom and her sisters so damn much. Maybe after they caught Saren, the Normandy crew would get some leave and she could visit. Having had a big hand in helping raise her sisters after her dad died, she sometimes felt more like a mom to them rather than an older sister.

A call home after the fustercluck on Eden Prime was exactly what she'd needed to ground her to reality once again. Just for a few moments of normalcy and to chase away the pain of losing her entire squad. And the guilt. It wouldn’t last long and she knew it but damned if she wouldn’t ride the high for as long as she could, though. Sarah was the last one on to vid chat because they all knew they’d never get a chance to talk to Ashley otherwise.

Brought out of her reverie by the fond thought, she tuned into Sarah's conversation again. “How come you never send us Snapchats anymore? Are you too serious now, soldier girl?”

“Sarah...” Ashley sighed in annoyance. She tried to remember what it was like to be so young; she failed. “I just don’t have time for it anymore, okay? When I actually get a few minutes somewhere, I’ll play around with the app and send you something.”

Her little sister grinned wickedly, "I'll just bug you until you do!" Ashley groaned and Sarah added, "I want several. There are so many cool filters on it now! I’ll send you my favorites.”

Ashley couldn't keep from laughing, “Okay, okay, fine.”

Being silly had gotten them through the endless moves from colony to colony, the heartbreak and frustration of making and losing friends and beginning all over again, with their dad's deployments over the years. Sometimes, their mom had used Snapchat with them, first to bring some laughter into her daughter's lives and then as they began to leave the house, as a way to stay connected and have fun. It had become routine and those silly photos always showed up when Ash needed them most. Maybe Sarah needed them, too.

Thinking on the past, Ash didn’t realize Sarah was asking her something, a sly and calculating smile on her fresh, young face. oh no, this couldn't be good.

“Sooooo...you said you were serving on the Normandy with Commander Shepard, right?" At Ash's nod, she rushed on, words tumbling from her lips, "We all saw him on the news. He’s hot, Ash!"

"Shhhh!!! Sarah, stop!"

It was like she hadn't heard, “Do you get to talk to him a lot? Go on missions together and study strategies...side by side?” With every ounce of dramatics in her teenage voice, it echoed loudly from the vid. "Do you like him?” Before Ashely could even sputter a reply, Sarah added breathlessly, “Oh! And what about Major Alenko? We saw him too! I think you should go for one of them. They’re so...dreamy!” She gave a girlish sigh.

Despite being alone in her corner of the bay, Ashley felt her cheeks pinken and warm at Sarah’s assessment. A furtive glance to the left and behind her showed neither Wrex nor Garrus paying her any attention. She wasn’t entirely immune to either man's 'hot factor', as Sarah dubbed it, but it wasn't a path she wanted to head down.

“Sarah, you know damn well there’s no fraternization. They’re both my superiors and I wouldn’t do anything to mar dad’s memory or make the Williams name look worse. Dad fought for every posting, remember?”

The look of excitement ebbed from Sarah’s face and Ashley fought the pain of not being able to give her little sister a hug. Maybe she’d been too harsh but...Sarah wasn’t a child anymore. Bringing her omni-tool up, she tapped a few buttons and an image of her with a silly, squashed face came on the screen.

She sent it to Sarah. “Message incoming.”

A beep sounded over the airwaves and Sarah glanced down at her own omni tool. She grinned and laughed, looking up at Ashley with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Happy now?"

"Yes! Thank you. I'm going to show it to all my friends at school...oh, and mom and Abby and Lynn, too."

Wonderful. Just the kind of thing the world needed to see about the Normandy crew right now. "Sarah, I don't think it's a good idea to be showing anyone outside the family."

Sarah wasn't listening, typing fast and furious on her omni-tool.

"Show who what?"

Caught unawares, Ashley jumped and squeaked simultaneously. When she turned to see who it was, she wished the floor would open up and shoot her into space. Right now would be perfect, too.

Ashley saluted smartly. "Uh…nothing, sir. Just having a chat with my sister."

Sarah's awed voice floated towards them, "Commander Shepard…"

He grinned and waved at the screen, "One and the same. Who am I having the pleasure of speaking with?"

Ashley stared at him. He was engaged in a conversation with her sister. Oh no, this could not go well at all. For any of them. Sarah would talk his ear off first while also embarrassing Ashley, without even trying.

"You okay, Ash?"

She squeaked again. Good grief, she sounded like a damn mouse...hadn't seen the LT either. Double shit. She was a goner for sure. Might as well go pack her rucksack and be ready to disembark at the next stop.

"Just fine, LT. Didn't mean to take up so much time on my vid call. Sarah can...go on a bit." She'd completely forgotten he and Shepard were doing duty station inspections.

He chuckled, crossing his arms and relaxing with a tilt of his head at the screen. "So I see."

Ashley turned and heard Shepard ask, "Snapchat? What is it? Don't think I'm familiar with it and I have a lot of apps on my omni-tool."

Oh hell freaking no. This wasn't happening to her. Several thoughts ran through her head, vying for attention: Sarah could not show him Snapchat, couldn’t tell him he was hot, couldn’t ask him if he liked her sister and...wait, Shepard had apps on his 'tool? As the thoughts tumbled over and over, she realized something else…

Kaidan had snorted with amusement when Shepard mentioned he had lots of apps. Turning to look at him, she wondered just how well he knew their CO. Something else occurred to her. She gazed at Shepard in a new light. He was just as ordinary as the rest of them on this ship. Easy to forget when he seemed larger than life.

Loud enough to speak over her sister’s gushing voice, Ash said, “We really need to go, Sarah. We have inspections and we’ve taken up enough of Commander Shepard’s time.”

“Oh...yeah, sorry.” She looked crestfallen.

“We have?” Shepard turned those clear blue eyes on Ashley, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Wait...he was enjoying this? What about the inspections? Protocol? Or her soon to be embarrassment. Hadn’t happened yet but it was inevitable.

“Uh, well…” She wasn’t sure how to proceed.

Shepard turned back to Sarah, “So tell me how this Snapchat works.” He played with his omni-tool. “Okay, it’s downloaded, now what do I do?”

Sarah launched into an explanation of what the app was, what it did, the different filters and how to take a picture. Shepard alternated looking at her face on the screen and his omni-tool, confusion written on his face.

“Hang on.” Typing on her own ‘tool, a ping soon came from Shepard’s. “Just to get an idea of what you’ll be doing.”

Standing next to Kaidan, Ash felt paralyzed, hoping Sarah hadn’t sent him something ridiculous...or incriminating. Glancing at her CO, she was surprised to see his shoulders shaking. Oh no. Her eyes connected with Sarah’s in the vid, laughter in their depths. She had a sudden sneaking suspicion.

“Hey, LT, come take a look at this will you? I don’t think the message came through correctly.” He was clearly struggling to speak.

Kaidan stepped up next to him, looking at the ‘tool. He smiled wide, giving Ash a side-eyed glance. Shit. She was going to jail for killing her little sister. All the sacrifices she’d made in the name of her career, only to be taken out by a teenager.

The LT called her over. “Ash, can you come here? I think we need another opinion.”

Dreading every step she made closer to the two of them, she approached warily. Shepard thrust his ‘tool closer so she could see what they were looking at. It was the photo she’d just sent Sarah right before they’d walked up. In the snap, she had a squashed face and bowl type haircut.

Yep, going to be taken in for murder. Looking up at the screen, she saw Sarah looking back at her, childish glee in her eyes, a smile playing about her lips. All the annoyance drained out of her. How could she be mad at her baby sister? Turning thoughtful, she had an idea. There was another way to play this.

She smiled. Crossing her arms and leaning back on one leg, she gazed at Shepard and said, a challenge in her tone, “Yep, that’s me, playing with Snapchat. Bet you can’t do any better than that.”

Hearing Kaidan choke on a laugh, she knew she was on to something. Shepard stood up straight the look on his face enough for her to know he was going to take the challenge.

He affirmed her assessment, “You’re on.”

The next thing Ashley knew, all three of them were in a Snapchat war. From behind them, she could hear Sarah struggling to suck in air between wheezing. When she could speak, it was to egg them on. Before long, all of them were giggling like idiots, tears rolling down their faces, doubled over in laughter. They couldn’t continue, unable to even hold their ‘tools up to take photos anymore.

When they could finally breathe, they looked up. The looks on Garrus' and Wrex's faces had them falling into fits of laughter all over again. One by one, they slid to the floor, piling against each other in a tangle of limbs, trying desperately to come back to some sense of normal.

Sarah’s voice ghosted over their heads, “Hey! Where’d you all go? Are you still there?”

Shepard spoke up, “Still here Sarah. We just...needed a break.”

Ashley stood up, smiling fondly at her little sis, still wiping tears from her eyes. “Time to go, sis. I’ve got work to do. Enough play time.”

A pout formed on her lips, “But...I want to see the snaps. I was so excited.”

Feeling the LT and her CO stand up behind her, Ashley started to say something but Shepard beat her to it. “We’ll look through them and see which ones actually turned out. I think all of us were having trouble between the laughter. Okay, Sarah?”

If her face lit up anymore, Ashley figured she could light the colony. “Yeah, that’d be great!” Then she smiled shyly, “I could...uh...send you all some of mine, if you want.”

“That would be really great, Sarah,” smiled Kaidan over Ash’s shoulder. “We better let you go now. Thanks for the fun.”

She nodded and cut the feed. This call was going to cost Ash big, she knew it. She just wasn’t sure how much, beyond the credits she'd have to pay for going over her time limit.

Turning, she regarded the two men with a suddenly serious face. “I can’t thank you both enough for making my little sister’s day. I just want you to know, I didn’t plan this and I’m sorry things got out of hand.”

Their smiles died quickly, replaced by confusion. They looked at each other, then back at her. “Ashley, we enjoyed this as much as you. We all need to let loose and laugh. Don’t worry about the length of the call and you certainly aren’t in trouble. In fact,” Shepard added, “next time you plan on calling Sarah, let me know. I always need new apps.”

Relief surged through her and she let out a deep sigh. “Yes, sir. I’ll do so. Just remember, she really loves to talk. And loves her apps. You might get more than you bargained for.”

Kaidan groaned, shaking his head. “Which means I’ll be busy fixing his omni-tool and cleaning it up as per usual.”

Feeling more like she fit in than ever, Ashley grinned. He probably would be. She’d seen first hand their CO wasn’t very tech savvy. The one area she’s seen him fall short in.

“Well, we’d better get back to it. Keep up the good work here. Your station is clean, organized and the weapons are working better than ever.” Shepard clapped her on the shoulder and he and Kaidan turned to leave. How he even noticed with all that transpired, Ashley didn't know.

“Aye, aye, Skipper,” she called after them.

His lips twitched with humor at the nickname. Ash knew she was going to enjoy this posting after all.

[jedimusings]

@graveycrds​

he saw his cousin, and began speaking without acknowledging his shift to awareness. “surprise, surprise, bantha fodder-” if ben had died, and maybe he had and he just didn’t remember it yet, he didn’t think he’d want to talk about the death part of suddenly being alive. usually, back in his old life, this type of thing would be concerning. this aj would be a clone. or a robot. or a shapeshifter. but ben would have noticed that immediately, his force awareness hadn’t gone away, he just didn’t remember what is was until he’d woken up. something would just be off. and it wasn’t here. this was anakin, the same as ben remembered him when he had last seen his cousin 2 decades ago: a knucklehead, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet still enviously cool (or so ben had thought when he was five and idolized his cousins). “-don’t think, for a second, that this means you’re going to be taken off my usual suspects list. don’t try me. because i will still, issue you a verbal warning because i ‘left my ticket pad back at the station’.” 

ben remembered the last time he had seen anakin, really seen him and actually known who he was. ben had been five, pleading and flailing around the falcon: will somebody play dejarik with meeeeee? that somebody being anakin, but really hoping anyone would take him up on it, but extra hoping it would be anakin. pleading like there wasn’t a war going on; but he was so young and looking for any distraction from the constant sorrow that he was feeling through the force at the time due to all the death surrounding them (what’s an extra force sensitive five year old to do besides cry all night about the deaths of strangers he didn’t know and then bug his cool, older cousins constantly to play board games with him?). “sooooo you’ve missed a couple of things. most importantly, i am now taller than you, and also older, and therefore, the dominant cousin.”

[lisatelramor]

How (Not) To Say You Love Her

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

*O*O*O*O*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, she’s studying art history?”

“Art conservation,” Kosuke mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

Just say hello even.

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

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

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

He groaned into his hands.

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

“Something like that.”

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh good, he had a plan.

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t do this.

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

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

Why was this so hard?

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

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

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

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

Kosuke groaned into his hands.

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

o*O*o

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

Those books were not good for his anxiety.

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

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

Kosuke did not want to reach hospitalization point.

Obviously.

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

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

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

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

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

He just had to make a plan from here…

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine. You know how it is.”

“Right,” Minako said doubtfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kosuke bit his lip and sunk lower in his chair.

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

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

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

“What type is that?”

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

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

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

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

“Hell yeah,” Minako said.

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

He was missing something.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kosuke froze.

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

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

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

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

“Aw, Emiko-chan, don’t be like that!”

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

The whole back of Kosuke’s throat tasted bitter.

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kosuke sighed.

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

Well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

“I’m fine,” Kosuke protested.

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

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

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

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

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

“You need a job,” Minako said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An awkward silence followed that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

It was probably creepy that he knew that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t,” Kosuke said uncomfortably.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Um.” Kosuke fidgeted with his mask.

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

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

“That being?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kosuke went scarlet and sputtered.

Katsuma and Minako laughed at him.

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

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

“…fine.”

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

“You both spend hours indoors too!”

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm.”

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Katsuma said, surprised.

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” Kosuke said.

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thinking of changing majors?”

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

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

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

Kosuke blinked. “It’s that serious?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

o*O*o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t fine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And for the next few minutes they exchanged questions and Emiko learned he was the only son with distant parents, that he didn’t have much family at all, but that he had an unmarried uncle on his father’s side. He learned that she only had her father, but that they were very close and her mother died when she was young. She learned that he liked books and art history, he learned that her family had an art collection and she was learning conservation to take care of it properly. He learned that it was so much better to see her expressions up close and that he had never felt a rush quite the same as when she directed all of her attention his way.

Kosuke didn’t talk to people easily but somehow she coaxed words out of him and had him asking questions back, soaking in knowledge about her the same way he soaked in information about his research. If it wasn’t for the persistent tickle in his throat and the bitter taste in his mouth, he’d have forgotten what he needed to do.

Even with everything he almost let it slide again when Emiko glanced up and noticed the time.

“Oh! I have to get home!”

Another train would be arriving any minute too. “Um, Emiko-san.”

“You can just call me Emiko,” she said, not for the first time.

He really wasn’t ready to call her anything to her face without an honorific. “Emiko-san, I need to say. That is. I’d like to get to know you.” Close but not quite. “I like listening to you.” Still not there. “I l-like. I mean, you, I like—”

“You like me,” Emiko said, taking pity on him.

“Yes.” Thank goodness one of them could be direct. “I like…I like you.”

“I kind of figured,” she said, smiling fondly in a way that was way more intimate than one conversation merited.

“Do you…?”

Emiko hummed and tilted her head. “I don’t know yet.” Her smile grew wider. “But,” she said dragging out the word, “I’d be interested in finding out. I guess that just means you’ll have to take me out on a date, hmm?”

Kosuke breathed and felt like he could take a fuller breath all of a sudden. “Yes. Yeah, sure, I’ll take you on as many dates as you’ll let me.” He’d pull out full stop romance if she wanted. Flowers and candle-lit dinners and watching sunsets and sharing umbrellas in the rain.

Emiko laughed happily. He wanted to hear that sound forever. “You know,” she said after a moment, “I’ve seen you around before, but you always looked busy.”

She’d noticed him? Kosuke blinked. “I… really like reading.”

“You’ll have to show me some of your favorite books then. I’ll show you some of mine.”

Kosuke was definitely in love. There was no turning back now. Head over heels. It was only going to get deeper because now he knew what it felt like to have her smile at him and mean it. To hear her talk about things she liked and how her hand felt in his own. “Anytime.”

o*O*o

“So, what, you’re dating now?” Minako asked, stirring sugar into her coffee at the usual café.

“I think?” The word ‘dating’ hadn’t been used, but they’d met once for lunch and made plans to do so again. Kosuke’s heart beat fast thinking about it. But since White Day, he’d been breathing easier bit by bit, no more drops from the vial needed. It almost didn’t feel real.

“Well, congrats,” Katsuma said with a grin. “I told you that you could do it.”

“You said I could manage to confess, not that I could get a date with her,” Kosuke pointed out.

“Details,” Katsuma scoffed. “What’s she like?”

Kosuke tried to capture Emiko in words in his mind and kept coming up short. “Bright.” Her smile shone and she was very smart. She was also a bit strange, having some weird interests and he still was trying to parse out the whole thing with a phantom thief, but that was fine. Kosuke looked forward to getting to know her well enough to understand. And they’d talked about art and books and… She made him actually want to be sappily romantic.

“I think we’ve lost him,” Minako teased. “Just one word, lover-boy?”

“She’s…” Kosuke moved his hands helplessly to mean something bigger than he could describe. “I could talk to her for hours. Or listen to her talk.”

“Someone that actually makes you want to talk is good,” Minako said. “I’m glad.”

“If you’re ever up for a double date,” Katsuma said with a wink, “Hana and I are game.”

“I think I’ll stick to single dates until I’m sure we’re actually dating,” Kosuke said.

“And speaking of your girlfriend,” Minako said, nodding at across the street.

Kosuke turned so fast he almost fell out of his seat to see Emiko exit the other café like usual. Only unlike all the other times, her eyes met his across the space and she gave a smile and a wave. Kosuke’s face went red as he waved meekly back.

“You know,” Katsuma mused aloud as Emiko started to cross the street in their direction, “she always asks the same question when someone confesses, so does that mean our shy little Kosuke said yes?”

Kosuke’s face was almost as red as Emiko’s hair and Minako was laughing at him.

“Kosuke!” Emiko said cheerfully with another enthusiastic wave. It hit him right in the heart. He had to have the most ridiculous, sappy expression on his face right now. “I thought I’d seen you here before! Are these your friends?”

“Ah, yeah, this is Katsuma and Minako. Guys, this is Emiko.”

“Nice to meet you,” Katsuma said.

“Yeah, it’s about time,” Minako said with a grin, “since this dummy’s been pining for ages.”

“Guys…”

Emiko laughed. “You know I’ve never been to this café. Is anything good here?”

Kosuke and his friends exchanged a look. “It’s cheap,” they said at the same time. “And they have really strong coffee,” Kosuke added. “It’s good for when you’ve been pulling late nights.”

His friends looked exasperated. “He pulls them too often,” Minako complained. “The books aren’t going anywhere, Ko-kun.”

“So many books, so little time,” Emiko teased, stealing a chair to join them.

“It’ll be nice to have another person reminding him that there’s life outside the library,” Katsuma joked, poking Kosuke’s face.

Kosuke swatted his hand away and Emiko watched the exchange like she was seeing something valuable. He didn’t have words for how her interacting with his friends made him feel. It was a good feeling though.

“We’ll have to work on a work-life balance then,” Emiko said. “I’d be a little put out if he chose books over a date with me.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’d be a problem,” Katsuma said.

“I will tell Hana-san about the time you burned your classic literature book,” Kosuke said, calling back to their first year together as friends.

“No you won’t, I have more blackmail on you than you have on me,” Katsuma said confidently.

“I can list your failed relationships in order of magnitude of how bad they went.”

“Remember the first time you got drunk?”

Kosuke snapped his mouth shut. He very much did not remember parts of that night and that meant he really couldn’t refute if Katsuma made embarrassing things up.

Emiko laughed. “Hmm, I’d like to hear about some of these things.”

“Katsuma, I will pour my coffee down your pants so you have to leave here looking like you wet yourself.”

They laughed at him and Kosuke resigned himself to at least some of his embarrassing college stories being told, though most of them involved the extremes he went to on research benders. Still, it was nice. Emiko was slotting into his life, and maybe she’d let him slip into her life as an equal presence.

o*O*o

“Isn’t this one of Takamura Hiseki’s pieces?” Emiko asked months later, sitting in Kosuke’s cramped little apartment like it wasn’t a few steps above a box. She’d never made a big deal of any of it, not Kosuke’s lack of nice things or how he couldn’t make the grand gestures of other people who courted her. He was pretty sure that part of what she liked about him was that he didn’t give lavish gifts or make grandiose promises. That he was down to earth and showed he cared in small gestures like picking up a coffee or surprising her with a piece of candy or a good book on days where she was stressed. She’d been to the apartment before, but it was only recently that Kosuke stopped carrying Takamura’s vial around and put it on a shelf with some smaller, far less valuable art pieces.

It hadn’t occurred to him that she would recognize the artist.

“Uh.” He bit his lip. How to explain that? “It is.”

“It’s nice.” Emiko turned it over in her hands, letting the light reflect of its cut glass edges. The liquid swirled in it as full as it had been when he found it; he never did figure out how it never depleted. “How did you end up with it?”

Kosuke blushed guiltily. Emiko raised an eyebrow. Kosuke scratched at his cheek. “I did a research paper on him and noticed something odd in some of his journals… There was a secret compartment in one of the furniture pieces he donated to the university and… well.”

“Kosuke.” There was an almost gleeful expression on her face. “Did you steal a piece of art from the university?”

Kosuke flushed harder. “Err. In my defense they didn’t know it existed?”

Emiko laughed. A few months ago he would have expected to be scolded for it, but he was starting to realize Emiko didn’t function on the same moral standards as most of society. It should have bothered him, but honestly it was one more thing he liked about her, how she didn’t match the image she’d built herself up as in public. “You,” Emiko said, putting the vial back, “are perfect.”

“Excuse me??”

Emiko just shook her head and grinned. “How do you feel about meeting my dad this weekend?”

“So fast?”

“It’s not fast; we’ve been dating for months. Although I guess you haven’t introduced me to your parents either.”

Kosuke flailed a little, but stilled as Emiko moved to lean against his side. He relaxed against her. “I’d like to meet your father,” he said. Emiko nodded against his shoulder, snuggling closer. “And um, my parents are, um.” He was having trouble finding words with how Emiko kept getting closer, like she was going to end up sitting in his lap. “Um. We don’t talk, so.”

There was a tiny pause in her getting as close as possible before she gave up even trying to be subtle and draped herself against him. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to become part of my family.”

Oh. She was smiling, but her eyes were serious. Oh. His arms went around her. “Yeah. I’d. I’d like that.”

When she kissed him, he lost all ability to think about anything other than the moment, all his anxieties and insecurities falling away because she was here and she’d chosen him. By some miracle, she liked him back, and it was maybe about as much as he liked her. He felt like he belonged the way he did surrounded by books. Kosuke, finally, felt happy.

o*O*o

At some point, a second, almost identical crystal vial ends up sitting innocently on Kosuke’s shelf. Kosuke, soon to be Niwa Kosuke, never tells anyone how it got there.

*****

Kosuke totally doesn’t tell her about the hanahaki until right before they get married and Emiko is all ‘why didn’t you say something???' Also, I really wanted Kosuke to already have something to do with art because I prefer that to picturing him uprooting his entire life to try and fit with what the Niwas need. So my HC for him is he already was a guy who liked spending way too much time researching things and it just was serendipity that it turned out to be useful for the Niwas.

[purplesurveys]

812

Is there anyone you work with that you don't get along with? Why? I'm always civil with everyone, and when I get mad at someone I make sure it’s because they really fucked up on a task, and not just because I don’t like their personality or whatever. I’ve always just felt like butting heads with someone is only going to affect my work, so I try not to clash with people. If I don’t like someone for any reason, I usually just minimize my interactions with them. Have you ever been romantically interested in a coworker? ...Does a classmate count? I started crushing on Gab back in high school lol. Have you ever been romantically involved with a coworker? ^ Same question. Do you have any thoughts on a 14-year age-gap? Not a fan. Age gaps in general scare me away, though I think it’s because I’ve only been with someone of the same age. What is the game you're currently playing most often on your phone? Bitlife. It’s like a simpler Sims.

What is your go-to Starbucks order? MAN OH MAN does this question make me miss coffee shops. I get a grande iced caramel macchiato. I get it as is because having so many customization options just makes me overwhelmed. Do you have any friends that you're drifting apart from? I don’t think so. We all just have to be apart right now but once we can see each other again, I’m 110% sure it’ll only be like we hadn’t seen each other in a day. Are you close to someone who is mentally unwell? I think all my friends aren’t mentally okay to some extent. It’s pretty common in our age group. What phone do you have? iPhone 8. What is the last thing you ordered for delivery? Andrew and I had Chinese food delivered to Skywalk after a particularly brutal verbal beatdown from our thesis adviser who had told us to revise big chunks of our thesis ASAP. I was super stressed so I allowed myself to splurge on the Hong Kong noodles I really liked and I specifically asked for three fucking packets of peanut sauce to drown my noodles in lmao. Do you have an opinion on adopting/purchasing a pet? It’s my preferred way of getting a pet. Adopt and don’t shop, plz. What's your favorite chain restaurant? YABUUUUUUUU. If I reach the point where I only had ₱400 left to my name, I’d still most likely spend it on their katsu.  Have you ever dated someone who was of a foreign origin? No...well, Gabie is part Turkish, so kinda? She’s still mostly Filipino though. Have you ever read any of your idol’s books/autobiographies? Out of all the people I fangirl over, only AJ has produced an autobiography and yes, I have her book. Oh I have One Direction’s first book too, but I haven’t been able to buy the next ones that came out. Do you own any succulents? Nope. Can’t take care of plants to save my life. When was the last time you climbed a tree? I’ve never done that, all the trees here have red ants. :/ If you have any pets, how would you describe their personalities? Kimi’s an absolute diva and chooses to follow, listen to, and be sweet with only me. He’ll be super nice when he’s asking for food, but will be quick to stop minding you completely once he’s gotten enough food from you. We give him a pass since he’s a senior dog now, but he’s definitely the snobby type hahaha. What is your phone's background? My home screen is of Hayley Williams; my lock screen is of Beyoncé and Jay-Z on stage. Who played at the last concert you went to? Paramore. Who is playing at the next concert you're attending? I’m really fucking hoping it’s going to be Beyoncé because she’s the only artist left I have yet to see lmao but if not, I’m most likely going to see Paramore again. What's your favorite amusement park ride? I like riding the octopus, but only the one in my high school’s fair. What's your favorite deep-fried food item? Corndogs, for sure. Why were you last pulled over? I got confused with the road rules in Alabang and ended up stopping at a red light albeit over a pedestrian lane. Stilllllll pissed about that instance to this day and I’ve never gotten over how rude the traffic enforcer was towards me. Do you have any friends that own a private lake? I don’t think so, we don’t have a lot of lakes here to begin with. What was the last thing you've done on the water? Take a shower, if I understood this question correctly. Canoeing or kayaking? I kayaked in Palawan when we were there and it was so peaceful and felt like absolute heaven. I’d relive that experience over and over again. What's your favorite lake? Like I said, we don’t really have a lot of lakes here. I don’t even know enough to pick a favorite. Are you cool with swimming in a lake? Sure, why not. Do you have a drone? I don’t. I’m not interested in having one. Do you have a smart watch? Nope. I’d love one but tbh I end up losing every watch I ever try to wear, so buying one would be pointless. What's your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant? It’s a bar rather than a restaurant, but Exile was such a fun place to be in. I still don’t understand why they had to close down so suddenly when sooooo many college kids were going there every single day. It’s since been replaced by this random shrimp restaurant, though I think that already closed too since no one ever went there because EVERYONE PREFERS EXILE. It was a very important part of my early college years and it helped me get out from my slump, so I’ll always be grateful that it was around at some point. What do you order from there? I don’t even remember anymore, it shut down two or three years ago. I’ll see if their menu is still up on Zomato... andddd it’s not. It’s like it never existed, sigh. What's your favorite ice-cream flavor? Cookies and cream. They jack up the prices for Ben & Jerry’s here like CRAZY so even though I’ve wanted to try so many of their flavors, I’ve never gotten to try it. I’m not paying ₱500-₱600 for ice cream. Do you have any t-shirts from any local businesses? Yes, I have a couple of shirts from this local business called Artwork. Their employees, who are also artists, produce original designs on t-shirts, bags, pins, shoes, wallets, etc. every week so every time I visit the store, the selection is almost always completely brand new. What is your prettiest friend's first name? Gabriela, hehe. Who is your favorite comedian? Not really into comedians. I like Andy Samberg’s work, but mostly only for Brooklyn Nine-Nine. What's your favorite Netflix series? Queer Eye or Black Mirror, if we’re talking about original Netflix series. Do you listen to any talk shows or podcasts? I regularly tuned in to a morning radio program when I’d drive to school before quarantine started, but that’s it. Do you know anyone who's had their own podcast? Nope, but I have friends and acquaintances who have released other stuff, like vlogs and EPs. Where were you the last time you stayed in a hotel? Cavite. What are you looking forward to, today? Mom bought shawarma so I can’t wait to eat them tonight. What are you looking forward to, in the next few months? For this Covid mess to finally blow over so I can have an actual, tangible graduation and see all my friends again. Are you a dog or a cat person? Dog. Without. A. Doubt. Do you know anyone who is freaked out by cats? Me. They never liked me no matter how nice I am with them, so I can never be around one for more than a minute. There’s only one cat that’s been nice to me – one of the cats that roam around the college, we call him Ginger – but even then, sometimes his claws can get super sharp when we play and it pierces my skin and I get scared, ahuhu. I’m sure cats are super nice and that they make for great pets, but we just can’t ever bond lol. Do you know any with Crohn's disease? No.

[alitoowell]

One year—365 days—and still I cannot find the words to do justice to the magnitude of gratitude that I feel, and will forever feel, for the magic that was October 22, 2017.  It’s funny because meeting Taylor was always in my mind as a possibility.  In that people DO meet her, so it’s possible.  But I always viewed it as possible, yet unachievable.  People would meet her, but they wouldn’t be ME.  Simply because the odds were too great of being noticed or picked from a crowd.  So I never planned out how it would go, or where, or what I would say, which left me even more absolutely floored when it happened.  Even a year later my brain cannot quite wrap around the fact that the woman who I’ve looked up to since I was 15, who’s music has been the soundtrack to my life for an entire decade, had me over at her house?  I got to hug her?  Dance with her?  And listen to her entire unreleased album and the stories behind it?  That seems unbelievable.  And it will always seem unbelievable because people. don’t. do. that.  But Taylor does.  My friends have been encouraging me for a whole year straight to type everything out, and I never quite got there.  The task seemed too great, I didn’t know where to start, or what words to choose to capture those memories adequately.  In one of those moments of frustration I realized I actually already had written nearly everything—in the no less than 63 messages I sent to my best friend Shaina less than 24 hours later on October 23, 2017.  Though it’s jumbled and not perfect in any way and contains the misspellings and keyboard smashes and all, here’s my Taylor story, a year later, as told the day after it happened—in message form.

~

I MET TAYLOR SWIFT SHDJEKJDKROF

I CANNOT BELIEVE MY LIFE

I HAVEN’T CRIED YET BUT ITS 4 AM AND I THINK ITS FINALLY HITTINGME

photo of wristband

SHE FUCKING DANCED WITH ME DURING LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO LIKE GRABBED MY HAND AND JAMMED WITH ME AS I WAS SHOUTING THE LYRICS GOODBYEEEEEEE

photo of merch

GOODBYEEEEEEEEE

Shaina: You’re lying

IM NOY IM NOT OH MY FOD OH MY FREAKINF GOD

PARKER THOUGHT I WAS DRUNK OF SOMETHING CUZ I WAS SHOUTING VIA TEXT ASKING IF HE WAS UP HOLT SHIT

Shaina: Ok. Spill. I’m shook.

Okay okay so I’m literally about ready to pass out I haven’t slept well since finding out last week and legit got two hours of afterwards last night, well this morning ahhh

And about to board my flight but I’ll try to type quick

So basically her team DMed me last Tuesday saying they’ve noticed what an amazing fan I am and asked for my information

And people have been making fake TN accounts and sending fake messages to be awful, and I thought it was fake because I never expected to ever be contacted

So I’m like in the gym parking lot thank god I didn’t see it while I was still at work

And I realize it has a blue verified check and that it’s legitimate and the last questions was have you ever met Taylor and I LOSE MY SHIT IM IN HYSTERICS IN THE CAR AND CALL MY MOM AND SHE THINKS I GOT IN AN ACCIDENT

So basically I’m a freaking ass mess because I’m 99% it’s for a secret session since at that point one had happened and we all assumed that there would be more cities, and I was almost positive they would NOT send that message to someone and not follow through and call and tell them SOMETHING

So I can’t sleep I leave my phone on cuz I don’t want to miss a call

It of course doesn’t come til the next day while I’m AT WORK

And they freaking ass knew my twitter and tumblr and asked for all my socials and I now know the people I talked to weren’t asked that so that’s weirddddd

Anyway so sure as hell it’s a ‘very special event’ and it’s all too secret and I can’t tell anyone except a parent for safety

And once I confirm I can get myself to LA she gives some instructions and said final details will be emailed  

And so that was Wednesday and I’m crying at work and their dinner was late lol

And I called my mom and was like this weekend Sunday book flights nowwwww

And then the quick version is for the next two days I was practically puking every day so nervous and the email wasn’t coming and I was like shitttttt

So finally on Friday I straight up call Taylor Nation back and get straight through and say my name and she’s like what’s up?! And she says they’re coming out later that day

And so I flew down Saturday and I rented my very first car and took my first legit solo trip in the name of Taylor freaking swift honestly I’m not surprised

And bless Briana’s fam’s heart they were out of town but let me stay in their guest apartment while they were away with no explanation so that was very nice and less stress for me

And then I had to sit from 3:30 Saturday until 5:15 Sunday in LA by myself unable to tell anyone and it was wilddddddd

Like I was like sweeeeeet I can get caught up in my journal!!!  Noooo I deadass sat there and felt like I was dying and about threw up hourly like how the freaking hell do you just casually chill when you know your damn outlandish never thought it would occur dream is about to happen and not only that but like on a times 100 scale?!?!

So basically I went to her damn house and we hung out by the pool and ate food and the weirdest part is I’ve been unable to eat and have been panicking all week but the second I got to the first check point and to her house even more I was just like chillllll like ayeeeee this is gonna be fun omg I’m so hungry and let’s eat all this food

And so basically it’s a listening session for the new album and we obviously can’t say anything about it or what she said about it besides like probs that it’s AWESOME OUTSTANDING IS GONNA SLAY THE WORLD AND SHES SO LROUD OF IT AND MY BABY DID THAT AND IM REAL PROUD

Okay okay but she like explained each song in-depth and was the cutest cupcake singing along fully jamming to everything and like looking at everyone the entire time and locking eyes as she’s singing ya feel

My flight is about to leave but I will continue later!!!!!

Shaina: This is insane I can’t believe it I’m beyond stoked for you safe travels and talk soon

Okay we not leaving quite yet sooooo I’m missing parts. So we are told we’re gonna go inside and sit down and I book it fast to get a spot on the ground like only two people sitting in front of me and there’s a red plush chair not even 10 feet away that she’ll obviously be sitting in and we’re all like sjedjekkdir

And I was wondering who all I would know there right!?? And was bummed there’s one girl I talk to frequently who loves Shawn Mendes and we know each other cuz she saw my Shawn poster on twitter and she’s from LA but I hadn’t seen her

And then someone pokes me and is like ALIIIIIIII AND ITS HER AND WE FLIP AND SXREAM SO LOUD THE WHOLE ROOM THOUGHT IT WAS TAY AND WAS PISSSSSSED AND SHUSHING US AND SOMEONES LIKE THEY KNOW EACH OTHER!!!!! HAHAHAHA

Shaina: This just keeps getting better and better. How did you keep this a secret?!?!?!?

Shaina: How many people were there

AND SO ANYWAY WE ALL THOUGHT TAYLOR WAS GONNA COME IN FROM THE FRONT AND SIT RIGHT DOWN??? AND ON THE BUS SOMEONE WAS LIKE YOOOOO WHAT IF SINCE TONIGHT IT’S IN LA SHE BRINGS FRIENDS????? AND SO SHE OF COURSE INSTEAD COMES FROM THE BACL AND THE DAMN ROOM EXPLODES AND SHE LOOKS LIKE A DAMN GODWESS AND SHE’S LIKE HIIIIIIIII AND GRINNING AND ALSO COMES IN JACK ANTANOF (SPELLING IDK IM CURRENTLY OFFLINE SO I CANT CHECK), TWO OF THE HAIM GIRLS, AND RUBY ROSE AND THE ROOM IS LIKE SHATTERING

AND SO SINCE SHE IN THE BACK SHE STARTS MAKING HER WAY THROUGHHHHHH US AND IS GRABBING PEOPLE AND PEOPLE ARE STANDING UP AND HUGGING HER AND HOLY CRAP

Okay lololol shoot I just woke up and didn’t realize the rest of this story was notttt in constant caps like I’ve been using all day my bad my bad

And so she’s playing the songs in order off the album and I think it’s okay to say that her and jack are losing their minds because they’ve never gotten to experience our reaction to new stuff they’ve worked on when they’re together, and definitely not together and in person, so she kept being like this is so cool for us you have no idea and he’s in the back confirming lololol

And so anyway she gets to Look What You Made me Do and she’s like soooo how do we want to do this??? Do we want to keep sitting do we want to dance…??? And we’re all like DANCEEEEEE SHDHIEOKRKR and shes like okayyyy we’re dancing and Shaina this is deadass like straight out of a dream.  Actually wait no I couldn’t have imagined this, but she starts and I was anticipating part of this but not the whole thing…

So she obviously doesn’t just have us bopping along and staying and dancing on her own up front… she starts making her way into our basically tiny crowd and we’re so packed together that she’s grabbing people’s hands so she doesn’t fall as she goes. And she’s stopping and dancing with people and stops and stays dancing like staring at one guy and he’s going for it and not afraid and singing the lyrics dramatically right back to her….

And then she makes her way towards and wait for it

GRABS MY DAMN HAND AS SHE’S TRYING TO GET FARTHER INTO THE MIDDLE AND I’M LIKE OKAY OKAY JUST CHILL SHE JUST GRABBED MY HAND NO BIGGIE AND IM LIKE SHES GONNA KEEP WALKING LIKE THAT WAS MY MOMENT RIGBT?!?!

NOOOOOOOOOOO SHE STOPS THERE ONCE SHES BY ME AND IS DANCING WITH THE PEOPLE THAT ARE AROUND HER BUT HER BACK IS TO ME AT THIS POINT BUT IM STILL LIKE HOLY SHIT WHAT IS LIFE AND THEN SHE FREAKING ASS TURNS THE HELL AROUND AND IS DANCING! WITH! ME! LIKE! SHES! LOOKING! AT! ME! AND IM LIKE JAMMING OF COURSE AND SCREAMING THE LYRICS AND I LITERALLT DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN

And then Vanessa (my Shawn buddy) at this point has scooted up to me cuz everyone’s shifted and the people around me are like dude holy shit SHE DANCED WITH YOUUUUU

BYEEEEEEEEEEEE

Okay okay so after the whole album was played she gave us like the lowdown on the meet and greet portion and she passed out the target exclusive magazines for us to see while we waited and talked a bit about the making of them and why and things and she’s really pumped about them and they worked really hard to have them be affordable as possible and cut down the pages and things

And meanwhile like the whole night she’s so close that people would make comments and she’d hear and respond and it was so cute and amazing

Also I don’t think I’ve mentioned her outfit yet???  She’s been looking bomb at all of the other sessions and holy helllll she looked bomb like damnnnnnnnn she had on a black crop top and these high waisted and slightly folded down camouflage pants and these black boots and her hairrrrrrr this era is like natural curls and soooo damn cute

Okay okay so anyway we thought it was a greattttt idea to wait towards the end so we could stay longer and not go first and be done and sent home… yeah well it ended up being a not great idea because we ended up waiting two hours but I’m obviously not complaining one freaking bit

And she’s doing pictures in the other room so we can’t really see much for most of it but every so often we can see people talking to her and taking photos and it’s so cute it’d melt your hearttttttt

And so those of us that have bonded together at this point are like um shoooooot what pose and what the hell do I say to her??????? Like all week to my parents I was like ummmmm soooooo I’ve imagined this happening but like never thought it’d actually happen so unlike some people I had nottttt planned like a monologue of what I’d want her to know if I ever met her???? Like with Vance I was lost too but with my posters it was easier and I’ve seen him recently and yada yada but this is TAYLOR FREAKING SWIFT WHO IVE LOVED WITH MY WHOLE DAMN HEART SINCE I WAS FIFTEEN AND SHIT IM TEARING UP ON THE PLANE WHAT THE HELL DO YOU SAY TO HER WHAT DO YOU WANT HER TO KNOW YOU’VE GOT LIKE TWO MINUTES WITH HER GOOOOO

And so we were all really curious if she’d somehow recognize us because people have been saying that they walk in and she shouted their name! And I’m like idk if that’s gonna happen but might as well see if not just ask if she’s seen anything idk idk???

So okay buckle up for like the greatest time of my entire damn life

So I walk in and hug herrrrrrrrrrrrr

And I wish to god I can remember everything she said but I was focusing so hard on keeping it together and saying my bit that I know for sure what I said and can put together mostly something the general sentiment of what she said if not it exactly. So we’re huggingggg and I say I think hiiiii it’s so nice to finally meet you thank you for having me I’m so excited to be here or something and she’s like awww thank you for coming!! And I’m like I have to know how did we all get picked, was it by you or your team or how did it happen?? And I don’t know what the first part of her answer was but she says so the people from LA have been picked for about a year, and the people from elsewhere (I’m guessing with exceptions) have been picked more recently like within the past few months so like now I know it has nothingggg to do with whatever we’ve been doing online recently…. It’s from at least when she first came back if not before and they realized we were active while she was away….

And so I’m like okay ali say something else so I’m like so I really like making concert posters and the first ones I ever made were for you and shes like aw thank you!! And I’m like I realized other people were making posters and I’d been a RA and I was like hey I can make some really bomb posters tooooo. And so I’m like the fist ones said ‘Taylor someday we’ll meet you even if it’s just in our wildest dreams’ and she grabs me and is like AND NOW WE’RE MAKING IT HAPPEN!!! And so I say after I got the phone call I was in my car listening to Ready For It and started bawling when she sings ‘in my dreams, I know I’m gonna be with you’ cuz I knew it was actually happening and shes like awwwwwww or something you get the idea

And so then I straight up start talking about my dad???

I’m like so my dad loves you and she’s like omg and I’m like no he adoresss youuu and is so sad he couldn’t come and she’s like awww tell him hi!!! And I’m like he loves your Out of the Woods piano Grammy performance and I say how I’d found him listening to it repeatedly and he wanted it on his phone. And she’s like he sounds amazing! And I’m like he is he’s awesome lol and I’m like actually and so him and I went and saw you at F1 last year and of course I’m like and I made signs for there too and so I describe them IN DETAIL like what they said, I realized later I told her I was from Oregon, because I said they were the states and the dotted line and the paper airplane and I think she really liked that??? And as if that all isn’t already insane enough at some point in there I mentioned how this month has been insane and how I’d met Vance Joy and it was my birthday and now this and she said something excitedly about that like ahhh so much excitement or idk something about it. And so she’s like so what pose would you like to do? And I’m like I’ve really been going back and forth between just hugging or doing something sort of funny (low key said that hoping she’d be like girl let’s do both but lololol it’s okay) so she’s like it’s completely up to you!! And I’m like um um okay let’s just hug so she grabs me and we take the freaking photo and ahhhhhhhh

And so Vanessa and I had it planned out and she had me go first and at this point I was like would it be okay if my friend and I got a photo with you together and she’s like of course!! So V comes in and hugs her and we take one photo together and she squeezes us together tight and then I hug her one last time and thank her and say I love you so much (lol I had to throw it in other people forgot it and have been upset) and then I walk out and they hand me my merch bag and are directing me to the bus but I’m like can I wait for my friend and they’re like sure. So she comes out and she’s like SHE KNEW MY NAME SHSJEKOFN and she’s like yelling and I’m like shut up and I grab her and I’m like shhh shhhhh hahahaha and so we walk to the bus and it’s the funniest thing cuz they’re just waiting for it to be full so anytime someone new walks on everyone’s like SPILLLLLLLLL

And then once it was full we went back got our things, exchanged details with people on that bus and took photos and whatnot and turned our phones on to the madness anddddddd so well thats the story of the best damn day of my life

~

Taylor, thank you thank you thank for giving me such incredible memories that I’ve blown up the phones of every person I know, and have talked every person’s ears off that I’ve met during these past 365 days, about how special they are to me.  Thank you for making it happen, thank you for holding my gaze so intently and being so genuine every second I was talking to you, thank you for bringing me some of the best friends I’ve ever had, thank you for being so prominent in the highlights of not only this past year, but this past decade.  I love you forever, babe.  Long, long live October 22, 2017.

[not-so-freshman]

Meet The Davenports (3 of 3)

Becca x MC (Alison)

Word Count: 1600+

Part 1 : [Here] Part 2: [Here]

Alison looked into her half-eaten meal, rolling around a lone meatball from side to side as the table remained silent. She could feel smooth skin caressing up her lower leg, she fidgeted under the tickling sensation that ran through her. Her eyes meet Becca’s who sat to her side, and a warm smile appeared on Becca’s face.

“Tell me, how did you two meet?” Becca’s Mother, Anastasia asked as she took a sip of her red wine, no doubt observing the small and tender moment between the two.

“On campus, mother I told- “

“I know you’ve told me, but I want to hear it from Alison.” she says to Becca before turning back to address Alison. “So, what did you think of my Becca?”

Alison glanced to Becca, almost asking for some sort of permission before speaking. “erm well, I thought she was really pretty and I wanted to be friends with her.” she said, then noticing Becca’s blush and her look of astonishment.

“and then about 10 seconds later she threw her coffee at me.” She added with an awkward smile, unsure whether to have admitted that part, Becca looked down into her lap.

“Ah, Becca no wonder this is the first proper relationship I’ve know you to have if that’s your way of showing interest in someone.” She said laughing, which was quickly interrupted with a yelp of pain as her earring got caught into her dress.

“let me help with that.” Becca said offering her assistance.

As Becca got up to help her mother untangle her self, Alison couldn’t help but notice that the tickling on her low leg hadn’t disappeared along with her. She froze and grew suspicious as she looked to Bethany across the table, the twinkle in her eye and the smirk taking over her face confirmed it all for Alison.

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Becca asked as she returned to her seat and leant into Alison’s ear, making sure none of her family could listen in.

“That wasn’t you that’s been playing footsy with me for the past 10 minutes, was it?”

Becca’s face was puzzled initially, before remembering their earlier conversation. Her eyes narrowed and locked on to her sister across the table, Bethany's only tell being that same smirk that Becca often wore.

“Bethany, would you mind accompanying me to the restroom for a moment?” she asked through gritted teeth, not seeming as polite as how she spoke.

“I’m fine Becca, I’d rather stay here with Mom, Dad and... Alison.”

“I wasn’t really asking, Bethany.”

“Becca, I’m pretty sure you are old enough to go on your own.” Anastasia said, noticing the two girls were almost staring each other down. It was High noon across a dinner table, whoever fired off their mouth first…

“Actually Mom, Dad, Becca seeing I have you in one place, I feel like this is a really good time to tell you guys something, and I have to say a big thank you to Becca and Alison, because if it wasn’t for them and their love and how accepting you been, I would never have been brave enough to tell you this. But I’m gay.”

“TOLD YOU” Alison sank into her chair, slightly embarrassed at her outburst, she quickly shoved some garlic bread in her mouth, to keep it busy.

“Oh My…God. YOU always do this to me! this was meant to be my moment, I get to show off my amazing girlfriend off and now you do this!” Becca leant forward, and she quickly forgot where she was, rapidly losing her composure.

“Do you even realize how hard it is to get Mom and Dad in the same room anymore?” Bethany folded her arms and she narrowed her eyes.

“WHY NOW! WHY NOT AFTER!?”

“OH, I’m so sorry ME COMING OUT was SUCH an inconvenience for you Becca.”

What started off as a somewhat loud back and forth, gradually got louder and louder, they were edging closer to shouting. Their parents were still reeling in shock from the previous revelation, taking no steps to calm the situation. Alison felt as though she was witnessing a car crash, couldn’t look, but couldn’t not look at the same time. And then Anastasia and Johnathan started to bicker, it wasn’t yet as loud or heated when compared to Becca and Bethany, but Alison could still catch parts.

“Good Lord Ana, what is wrong with your genes.” He said gesturing to his two screaming daughters in front of him. Anastasia gave him a look of disgust, recoiling away from him.

“nothing is wrong with my genes, they both got my looks, they must have got this from you!”

“If anyone has had a parent meeting gone worse than this, let me know because I would love to hear about it” Alison said out to the other dinners, a few awkward laughs could be heard. But the 4 other members at the table didn’t take any notice.

“This is just like that time that I aced my second attempt at my exams and you announced you made the soccer team and Dad was just sooooo happy for you!” Becca scowled deep into Bethany eyes, and she folded her arms for added measure.

“I told you I was trying out weeks before!”

“or…or the time I had tonsillitis and I had to have them taken out and you decided to try and somersault off the trampoline, breaking your leg in the process. I always had a feeling you did that on purpose.”

“Purpose? WHY?” Bethany was genuinely confused, this was the first she ever heard that Becca felt this way, and she couldn’t help feel a little disappointed.

“TO OVERSHADOW ME AS USUAL” Becca stood up as she screamed, placing her hands on the table, and Bethany mirrored Becca’s stance.

“BUT WHY WOULD I BREAK MY LEG TO SPITE YOU! ALL I EVER DONE IS LOOK UP TO YOU!”

The room quickly fell silent, the few dinners who managed to keep to themselves and continue their meal had now also stopped, having got used to so much noise from the Davenport family it was the quiet that now felt strange.

“…You do?” Becca said softly, the realization of what Bethany said hit Becca square in the face, her anger began to diminish, she suddenly started to feel layers and layers of guilt for her out burst and her past actions towards her sister.

“Yeah like, we all had to start from the bottom again, thanks to dad and well you’ve risen from nothing, you got a job, your pre-law like you always wanted, you got Alison who…is pretty cool.” Bethany paused and was struck suddenly with embarrassment, as she looked around realizing the whole room had eyes on her. “Erm, yeah I am sorry I picked now, that was a pretty ignorant of me.”

Becca shook her head and started to walk around the table, over to her sister, she took her by the shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“You’re not mad?” Bethany said, surprised at how quick her sister went from anger to that regretful expression that claimed her face.

“of course, I’m not mad…just why didn’t you tell me before?”

Bethany’s eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision, she could barely see the reaction on her sisters face anymore, emotion over came her and she buried herself into Becca shoulder, where Becca continued to cradler her.

“I didn’t know how.” She said into Becca shoulder, her words muffled by her clothes. Anastasia hurriedly got up out of her seat and ran over two her daughters taking them both in her arms, reassuring them both.

Alison’s eyes focused on Becca’s Dad, expecting him to make his move, maybe join his family in the group hug. But he just watched the three of them, this was the most uncomfortable Alison had seen him look all evening. His gaze fell into his lap for a short while before he got up out of his seat, and made for the restaurant’s doors, Alison watched him leave and then looked back toward Becca and her family, her arms still intertwined with her mother and sister’s. Without really thinking, her body decided to get up and follow Becca’s dad.

He was walking towards a red head in a metallic blue convertible, it’s only when he heard footsteps behind him he stopped in his tracks. “something you want to say?” he said not even wasting his time to turn around.

“One day, maybe a month from now, a year, maybe even 10 years. You’ll be sitting in your office, or your home, most likely alone. And you’ll regret this, not just today with how you handled Bethany or rather how you didn’t, but everything over the past year.”

“You sound so sure.” He said simply.

“yeah, because I can’t imagine anyone being this heartless, and staying that way.”

“I showed up today, didn’t I? I didn’t have to come here.”

“And yet I’m glad you did because now I understand Becca so much more, and wow isn’t she amazing in spite of you, and how you’ve made everything needlessly harder. Don’t you care at all?”

Johnathan seemingly went to take his turn to talk. But he swallowed his words down and reached for the car door handle. “Its just easier not to.”

With no hesitation, he opened the car door to the driver’s side, got in and drove off without a goodbye. Alison looked inside to the family he left behind, not just in the restaurant but in his life, they were all now laughing as they made their way over to her, seemingly not even taking notice of Johnathan's disappearance. Alison couldn’t help but wonder if there was more than what appeared. Some other detail in the words he gulped away and never spoke.  

[prettyfunkyunorganized]

Batman’s Daughter (word vomit)

Sooooo. This was for fun. And now I’m at 36 mother-lovin’ pages. What the balls. How did this happen? I - I don’t understand. Anywho, have the first 3,000ish words. Totally unedited so *shrug emoji* Hope you dig it. Btw, I have never tried to write crime shit before so I’m just flying by the seat of my pants.

Bruce glanced over the barrage of papers before him as Lucius prattled on about the results of all his testing on the bomb. Or, at least, what was left of it. While Lucius was a great many good and useful things, he was also rather longwinded. All the details he was spewing were probably crucial to him, Bruce only needed one word to understand.

Nothing.

Lucius had found nothing. If there was another explosive out there like this one, there was no known way to stop it.

“Do we have anything to go on? Anything at all,” Bruce asked gruffly, cutting his associate off.

“Well,” the aging man said hesitantly, “there is one thing. Most of the components in the timing and firing mechanisms are Wayne technology.”

“Of course,” Bruce hissed with an aggravated sigh, “another criminal trying to use my business against me.”

“It’s more than that,” Lucius said. “These are patents we have kept to ourselves – high-end technology, prototypes, cornerstone products.”

“Which cornerstone products,” Bruce asked with a deep frown. Mechanisms like that were the foundations of larger, more complex machines. Expensive ones. Dangerous ones. Oftentimes ones he himself had had a hand in creating. If something the Wayne Enterprises CEO had built was now taking lives . . . Again . . .

“An old one. One we bought a while ago,” Lucius explained, adjusting his glasses as he looked at his notes.

“Bought?”

“Yes, one of the many we’ve procured over the years to stay on top.” A thin smile crossed Lucius’s lip. “Other people have good ideas too, Bruce. This one, in particular, is a power source. A favorite of mine, in fact. Many of your ‘personal’ gadgets use it.”

“One of your favorite things in this company was invented by someone not on payroll?”

“Yes, sir. I’m not a vain man, but I am appreciative.”

“Huh,” Bruce said with an amused nod. “Is the man hired now, at least? Sounds like a good find.”

“I’m afraid not,” Lucius said awkwardly adjusting his collar, “and she’s not interested. I already tried to recruit her, but, um, she’s not really a fan of us.”

“Us being . . . “ Bruce said leadingly.

“Of Wayne Enterprises.”

Bruce snorted and rolled his eyes. “What, thought she should have got a better price for her patent?”

“Honestly she probably should have,” Lucius shrugged, “but she wouldn’t speak to me long enough to explain why she hates your name so fiercely. I’m hoping you will have better luck.”

“You want me to talk to her,” Bruce asked doubtfully. “The guy whose name is on the top of the building?”

“It might help if you go to her with the other suit on,” Lucius said handing Bruce one last, small piece of paper with an address written on it. “And please, do try to be cordial. She’s just a civilian – a young one, too. Filled with a lot of bitterness, it seems.”

“Oh fun,” Bruce grumbled, “a moody teenager, just how I wanted to spend my evening.”

“If we get this girl on board to help us, hopefully, she can help us determine how the bomb was made and find a way to get a handle on it.”

“Maybe she’s the one who made it,” Bruce said thoughtfully, “that would sure save a lot of time.”

“Oh,” Lucius said as his head jerking his head back a bit in surprise, “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

Bruce chuckled, “Either way, I’ll see what I can do. What’s her name, this kid who made your favorite battery?”

“Beatrice Sampson,” Lucius said, and Bruce headed to the door, “and keep me in the loop.”

“I will,” Bruce said with a half wave behind him.

“And like I said – try to be nice,” Lucius called, only somewhat jokingly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce smirked, “but God knows kids aren’t my strong suit.”

An hour later there was a massive figure looming in the dark outside a young woman’s apartment, staring at her through the enhancements in his mask. An itty bitty home with a short little girl staring out the window absently. By all appearances she seemed . . . boring. Utterly normal.

“Probably not our bomb maker then,” Bruce huffed.

“I’m not sure if that disappointed tone is appropriate,” Alfred’s gently scolding tone chimed in.

Bruce stood and stretched the pending soreness from his limbs. It was starting to settle in faster these days, no matter how many supplements he took with his morning coffee. He sighed and pushed these thoughts away. Getting old would have to wait.

“I know,” Bruce said softly, “but is it too much ask for one easy case? I had things I needed to do tonight.”

“Oh, like hiding in the bat cave on your computer and binge eating that tub of potato salad in the mini fridge,” Alfred said in a knowing, teasing tone.

“Careful there,” Bruce snarked with a grin, “I still sign your paychecks.”

“And I still keep this place running for you. If anyone in this world has job security it's me,” Alfred laughed.

“Alright fine,” Bruce said firing his grappling hook at the fire escape, “I’ll admit it, you’re right – I was planning a quiet night, but here I thought you might be proud.”

“I am,” Alfred barked quickly, “any time you take to relax is good in my book, but please don’t lash out at a young woman because your night off was postponed. It looks like Miss Beatrice hasn’t had it easy the past few years.”

“What else did you find out,” Bruce asked, all business again.

“Not much. I’m beginning to think she’s using a pseudonym. There are multiple women with that name, but none that match the description of the one in question. Records of a ‘Beatrice Sampson’ have been registered a few times in the past few years for housing in increasingly, ahem, unattractive locations. It appears she has no family and the first records of her come up not long after she turned eighteen. I would be willing to bet that she has been cast out or orphaned and changed her name after.”

“Good to know,” he nodded. “Let me know if you find anything else, I’m going to approach.”

“Will do, and you do the same.”

With that, there was a whoosh of movement that no one without a highly trained eye would see and an almost impossibly soft tap on the metal fire escape. At least he was still light on his feet. Bruce peered inside one more time to see Beatrice stirring her mug with a blank look. From here he could see the sparse furnishings and minimal decorations. There were what appeared to be some electronic parts and diagrams nearby, but nothing overly incriminating. Yet. He’d seen a lot of criminals in his time and Bruce felt as if he could pick them out of a lineup.

This girl. She wasn’t the one he was looking for. Too easy to find, too transparent, too lazy. Maybe she might be involved, but she wouldn’t be the ‘mastermind.’ The kid had a listed address, her curtains open, and wasn’t toiling away on anything in particular. People trying to blow up city blocks rarely had free time.

Bruce moved from the shadows, but the girl still didn’t look up. She looked tired. Nice thing about the batmask, no one could see the bags under your eyes. He tapped on the window softly and Beatrice jumped, eyes going wide as she saw him.

She scuttled to the window and struggled a moment to get it open. “What the actual fuck,” she hissed, poking her head out the window.

“That’s not the response I usually get,” Bruce rumbled out in his low voice.

“Uh,” she said with a series of confused blinks, “sorry? Should I be excited that a masked man in creepin’ on my balcony in the middle of the night?” Her tone was mostly sass with a tinge of wavering fear. A lot of women sounded like that when they saw Bruce like this. That or romantic. It was hard to choose which one was more awkward for him.

“Did you sell a patent to Wayne Enterprises,” he asked roughly, wanting to get this conversation over with quickly.

Her face soured and eyes pinched. “Say that name in my house again, and I’ll get real fucking nasty.”

Admittedly, that took him off guard. Lots of people hated the Wayne name – ‘you pushed out my father’s small business,’ ‘any corporation that big has to be evil,’ – that sort of thing, but the amount of venom in her voice? It was borderline shocking. Something must have happened with her and the company. He’d look into it later and decide if a payout or something of the like was warranted.

Or maybe she was just pissy. But that wasn’t the concern. A bomb had claimed dozens of innocent lives and another attack was more likely than not. Angry Little Miss Sampson could wait.

“I need to know,” Bruce said taking a step toward her. Beatrice recoiled just enough to be noticeable.

“Fine,” she murmured softly, “but say that name again and it won’t be pretty.” She wandered over to the door and opened it for him, standing at her full height of few inches over five foot and glared at the Batman like he was a common thug. She was not intimidating, more like amusing. It was a challenge not to smile at her unruly curls and ruffled pajamas as she tried to look tough.

Then he saw the switchblade in her hand.

“Do you really think threatening a man like me is a good idea,” he growled.

“Calm your tits, Batboy, it’s not a threat. Yet,” she said holding the knife in a practiced way. Decent form, too. “But, just so you know, say that dickweasel’s name again and I’m coming at you. I was raised by an empowered single woman in the ugly streets of Gotham. I was in the shitty public school system, fought with all kinds of assholes, and even did a stint in Arkham Asylum itself. I know you fight some pretty hot-shot guys, but I’m betting I can get in a good stab or two on that well-hidden voice of yours.”

“How is that not a threat,” he reeled. Who the hell was this kid and what gave her this ridiculous confidence?

Young rebellion, how bold. And stupid.

Bruce clenched his jaw and approached the door as Beatrice put away the switchblade. “The patent, was it for a power source?”

“Yep,” she said with an air of sadness, “but I don’t know why you’re bothering to come to me. Like you said, I sold it. I’ve had nothing to do with that baby for years now.”

“It was used as a bomb part in the recent manufacturing company fire,” Bruce said bluntly.

She stopped dead and looked back at him with a terrified expression. “Dear God,” she whispered. “I didn’t know . . .”

He believer her. All that crassness had boiled away, leaving tepidness in its place, but soon she began to frown.

“Wait,” she said rubbing her face, “how? The whole reason that company was scrambling for my engine was because it was safe. ‘The most stable little generator they’d ever seen.’ I designed it that way. That was really important to me. I refused to call it done until I was one hundred percent sure that little guy wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”

“So you don’t know how it could be used to cause damage like that? Enough to blow up several blocks?”

“No, I don’t, I swear,” she huffed, squishing in her puffy cheeks. The fear in her eyes was convincing. It was the same expression Bruce had made the first time Wayne tech had ended up costing someone their life.

“Could you figure it out, if given the remnants of the device,” he asked without really thinking. He shouldn’t give her the opportunity to look at classified material like that, but shit.

He was damn near out of options.

“I mean maybe,” she shrugged, sitting down at her tiny kitchen table, “but it would depend a lot on how much of the device is left and how many components are involved. Even in a best-case scenario, it would probably take a while. As you might be able to tell, I don’t exactly have a great setup right now.” The young woman gestured to her messy countertop littered with tools of all kinds surrounding a mass of wires and metal. “If you really want to get somewhere you should try that asshat’s company,” she grunted.

“’Asshat?’ You mean Bruce – ”

“Don’t,” she snapped, giving him that nasty glare, “but yeah, that’s who I mean.”

“He isn’t involved,” Brue said as a bit of anger rose up in him.

Beatrice scoffed. “How on Earth could you be sure of that? And if not him, someone in that big, shiny, dick-shaped building probably has something to do with it.”

This fucking kid was too much. Bruce hadn’t slept well in ages, and his temper was fried. “Is there a reason you hate Bruce Wayne so much?”

She bit her lip at his name and cracked a few knuckles, but didn’t get up. “Yes, there is, but I will not go into it. Just know I got my reasons.”

“Be that as it may, people are dying, and you are the best chance of stopping something like this from happening again, so you’re going to have to get over it.”

“What about – ” she sputtered.

“Wayne Enterprises isn’t involved,” Bruce said with finality.

“You have any evidence to support that claim or do you just have friends in high places,” Beatrice snarked in an accusatory manner.

He stomped over to the girl in an overly loud way to get his point across. She didn’t shrink away this time. “There are lives at stake here, so I need you to take this seriously,” he seethed.

“What part of pointing out a suspect is not taking this seriously,” she said standing and squaring her shoulders. The line between bravery and stupidity was blurring, and his patience was dwindling.

Not that he was going to start smacking her around or anything. Even if his fist was twitching.

“Wayne Enterprises is not involved,” he said darkly, “I can guarantee that.”

Beatrice smiled wickedly. “Friends in high places it is. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised the guy who hides his identity is crooked. It is Gotham, after all.” She walked away from him and grabbed a hair tie. “’Fraid I can’t help you, Batboy. I didn’t have anything to do with any bombing, you aren’t taking my advice to scope out the more probable bad guys’ place, and all my records are intact. I’ve got nothing for you.” The thin strip of elastic snapped as it wrapped around her massive head of curl and went flying. “Damnit!”

“Records,” Bruce frowned, “what records?”

“Of my work on the Ticker. I kept all my notes and whatnot,” she explained.

“You’re sure? A break in could have happened, and you hadn’t noticed – ”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed a piled of papers below her mug. “I’m sure. Pulled ‘em out a couple of hours to . . . reflect?”

“Reflect,” he asked skeptically. She was digging herself into a hole here.

The young woman tucked her hair behind her ear. “My mom wrote cutesy little words of encouragement on most of the papers. I’ve been needing some reassurance lately.”

Back home there was a photo of Bruce and his parents he’d look to for support, no matter how fleeting it might be.

“Everything is accounted for,” he asked, a bit kinder this time.

“Yes.”

“Where’s your mother now?”

“Dead. For a few years now.”

“Wayne isn’t involved, his company is helping to find those responsible,” Bruce stated firmly, using all of his commanding presence.

“Wouldn’t that be a lovely cover,” she replied with a dark, rough tone all her own. This little lady was oddly .  . . creepy? Yeah. Creepy.

“Fine,” he relented, “someone in the company could be involved, but whoever is responsible will be brought to justice no matter who they are or who they are with. Now, will you help me or not?”

The two of them had something of a stare down eventually ending with Beatrice letting out a long groan.

“Alright, alright! I’ll do what I can, but like I said, that might not be much,” she huffed. “I can take a look at whatever scrap you’ve got, but I can’t promise anything.”

Bruce turned on his heel and slipped out the back door again saying, “Be at Wayne Enterprises tomorrow morning, 8 am. That’s where the bomb parts are. I’ll make sure they let you in. Tell them someone called asking you to help and you’re just reporting in.”

“Ex-fucking-cuse me,” she snarled, chasing after him. “I did not agree to that!”

The grappling hook came out again, and he was gone, a furious scream coming after him: “You asshole!”

She’d get over it.

Hopefully.

No matter what, it was going to be damn awkward to see her in the lab the next morning and pretend he didn’t know all about her hatred of him. With any luck, the whole situation could be avoided.

But deep down Bruce knew he didn’t have that kind of luck.

@collinssie @watch-your-grammer

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

SCSI... awkward morning boner

Hanji was still making him take it easy, so what she didn't know didn't hurt him. Currently scrubbing away at the filthy clinging to the peeling kitchen walls, Eren was enjoying the sensation of not being curled up in his bed, feeling like he was bleeding to death. Compared to the last time the Government had gotten their hands on him, he was quite lucky. They'd chained him down, but instead of slicing him open like a side of beef, they seemed more intent on testing new drugs and injections. Some his body burnt through before he felt any effect. Some left him feeling sick to his stomach and some left him hallucinating. Then, just as suddenly as they'd arrived, they'd left. Possibly because he'd bit one, but it was more like a warning nip, barely a bite. Somehow the whole Castle seemed to know what he'd done. Mikasa had scolded him over, while Armin warned him to keep his head down and not to go out alone. It wasn't like he could go out anyway. Hanji had ordered strict bedrest until the bleeding stopped, while Levi insisted on making him take two showers a day. He didn't like the constant attention from the pair of them, so the house felt like a treat after two weeks of whatever that was. Scratching at the lifting wallpaper, he let out a small cheer as it came away. The wood beneath was so much nicer, a warm timber that was nothing like what they'd had back in Shinganshima, yet still pulled at his heart as the memories flashed to the front of his mind. His mum's cooking. The way she sang as she baked, and the way she always hugged him after she scolded him. His dad working hard, spending hours in the basement where he and Mikasa were banned from entering. Probably because they were too young to understand not to poke around. The way the his bed was way too small, but his mother would climb in next to him to read him stories, while Mikasa teased him. Fighting back his tears, he clawed at the wallpaper, trying pull down as much as he could "Eren?" Sprung in the act, Eren looked to Hanji "Are you ok?" "What? Of course I am. I'm not about to be defeated by wallpaper" "You're supposed to be resting" "I was. But how much damage can I do by peeling wallpaper?" "This is you..." "I'm fine and I'm sooooo sick of resting. I was scrubbing the walls and it finally began to lift" "Mhmm. Any bleeding?" Hooking his fingers in the creases at between his lips on the side of his mouth, he bared his teeth for Hanji to see, before gagging at the taste of wallpaper glue and soap. Hanji rolling her eyes as released his mouth and glared at them in annoyance "You probably shouldn't go putting your fingers in your mouth" "You say that now. How did you get away from Levi?" "I jumped out the window. You're lucky you're not up there. Eld's about to declare mutiny" "We both know he'd never do that" "He should... we've been cleaning all morning" "You can help in the kitchen?" "You want me to cook?" "I would rather you cleaned. The oven still has ash in the tray in the bottom" "Ereeeen. I'm not made for cleaning" "What are you made for then? Distracting him?" Hanji jumped, throwing her hands up in surrender as Levi huffed "I wasn't distracting him!" "Was she distracting you?" "No. She was volunteering to clean the oven out" "I would rather die than let her clean the oven. You do the oven, while Hanji does the walls. Are you ok brat? I can't tell if you're about to shit yourself or burst into tears" "I'm fine, sir. I'll start on the oven" "Alright. Let Hanji know if you feel sick" "Yes, sir" Leaving as quietly as he'd appeared, Eren stared at the now vacant doorway. He couldn't work Levi out, no matter how many times he tried. He'd found the man staring at him. He'd found Levi actually making jokes when it was just the two of them. He'd make sure he ate and asked if was ok. It wasn't like Levi was a stone cold arsehole and he'd always kind of been there, but something has shifted between them. He didn't know what to call it. Levi valued his cleanliness and hated people being in his room, yet, he insisted Eren use his shower. He didn't even yell at him when Eren accidentally got blood on the shower wall. He just washed it down like it was nothing. Maybe Levi was going through some kind of midlife crisis? Or maybe his scent was still off... Mikasa and Armin had told him it smelt like he was sick, which he was at the time. He couldn't really smell himself since the injections, and thinking too hard actually hurt. They'd done something to his head, though he couldn't remember what "Eren, I was trying to get out of woooooork" "I know, if you're that bored, you can just keep me company. I'll need fresh water and wood for the oven" "I'll do it. It's too much for you" "Hanji, you can't be serious. I'm fiiiiine" "I'm not going to accept that until your scent goes back to normal, and you have another heat" "I don't want another heat. I'm happy if I never go into heat again" "But you'd make such cute babies" "Do I want to know what the father's going to be? And you removed my womb..." "Ah, but I bet you could father a baby. We should have a baby!" A cleaning rag flew across the room, smacking Hanji in face "You two can't be trusted together. Hanji, go take over the medical room with Gunther. Brat, go change that shitty water" "Yes, sir" "I've told you think before, but when we're like this, it's Levi" Eren's heart did the weird fluttering thing only Levi's voice brought, as the back of his neck grew warm. Levi felt too personal... and brought back the memories of moaning his partners name more than once.. way more than once "I think I prefer "sir", sir" "Suit yourself. Stop standing there and get moving" "But Leeeevi. I can't take this" "Then get out" "Can I take Eren?" "Will it shut you up?" "You won't hear a word from me until dinner" No... he was enjoying working... he shot Levi a pleading look, hoping the man wouldn't send him out "Eren, help her gather wood" "What? But..." "Do you have a problem, brat?" "This is third different order you've given in the last half an hour..." "Overexposure to Hanji will to that to you" Evicted outside, Eren wasn't impressed. Hanji was already talking about something or other she found exciting, while Eren just wanted to go back to peeling off the wallpaper. Leaving her to rambling, the teen went about gathering up every broken stick and branch in the immediate vicinity of the house, wondering just what kind of people chose to live out here where it was so isolated, and what had happened to them. They looked to be pretty self sufficient. There were three long and over grown vegetable patches, a well, and an endless supply of wood at their front door. They'd probably hunted rabbits for food, and other small forest creatures that wandered their way. Sniffing the wind, he looked to the forest longingly. He wanted to shift. He wanted to run. He wanted to hunt down half a dozen rabbits and bring them back for his team, and he wanted Levi to praise him when he did. He liked Levi way more than he should, especially given their partnership hadn't really amounted to much. He'd spent more time in the castle than out in the field with the man. When Erwin had been so quick to give them their first mission, he'd thought that was just how things were done. He knew his first two missions hadn't been great, but he'd helped Isabel find peace. Surely that had to count for something?! "What'cha thinking?" "I want to go for a run" "Sorry Eren, not just yet" "You don't even sound sorry" Hanji sighed, he already knew what was going to come next. The sticks at their feet suddenly much more interesting than they had been "You've only been back on your feet for a week. You need to take it slow and you need to trust my judgement" "I do trust it. It's just... I'm fine. You telling me I can't do things... it's frustrating. I feel fine. I want to contribute, and I was until you got us kicked out" "You like cleaning?!" "I like being busy. It's frustrating enough that we don't go on missions, or I'm sick, or it's my stupid heat. I want to hurry up and learn more, and I can't do that when I'm in the castle all the time" "Things have been shaky, but it's not all been that bad. You've been working really hard in your classes" "Classes I didn't even know I needed. Erwin sent me straight out and into the field, and I fucked that up. No one knows how to handle me or how to treat me" "Because we've never met anyone quite like you" "I know. I'm just... I'm not as smart as everyone else. I'm not naturally gifted and if it wasn't for this stupid power, I'd be dead. Levi has to keep saving me and it's exhausting" "Have you talked to him about what they did to you this time?" "No. It's not like they did a whole lot. Injected me with stuff. Made me drink stuff and take pills. I feel fine now. My healing powers are working just fine too" "You've had to heal?" "No. At least not outside your finger prick tests, and we both saw I healed like normal" "It worries me that your gums were bleeding" "Medicine has side effects. I've seen it before" "Would you really rather be cleaning?" "Yes" "Alright. Go back to the kitchen and see if Levi has something for you to do. We aren't going to gather more firewood unless we go further in" "Really?" "I don't like seeing you hurting and I don't like saying no. I really do care about you" "I know you do" Giving Hanji a firm hug, Eren headed back inside the house. * After three full days of cleaning, the house was finally up to Levi's standards. The mattresses had been taken out and left in the sun to dry, the house then aired completely before every single surface was scrubbed clean, leaving a fresh citrus scent throughout the building. For added protection the bottom windows had been boarded, left to allow the smallest streams of light through, without risking safety. The doors on the top floor now had brackets for thick wooden planks, so they could be barred from the inside. Finally, around the house had been cleared of all the debris, anything useful moved to the house's root cellar and the rubbish burnt. Between the 6 of them, they'd managed to get it done, and now Eren had a safe and clean place to have his heat... and they'd established an emergency supply station, but that was a distant thought in Levi's mind. He felt proud that Eren could have his heat here, and the boy seemed so happy about it all. His smile should be banned. It was like the whole shitty world lit up each time he did. And Levi didn't like the way it left him feeling. On Hanji's insistence, they didn't return to the castle immediately. He hadn't been keen on bringing Eld, Gunther and Petra along, but with Eren once again being labelled a monster, the castle was in a state of wary silence. The kind of silence where just a look could start a fight. He didn't believed anyone was foolish enough to try and throw down with his team, yet Olou's death was still too raw. He wasn't about to lose another squad member, especially to the hands of some shitty human. So it was better they let everyone gather their thoughts and calm down. With everyone else sleeping, Levi was curled up on the end of the sofa in the living area, the fire in hearth across him was on its dying legs, and the light was barely enough to read by. He probably should have attempted to sleep, but he could hear someone above him pacing back and forth, the floor boards creaking under the weight. He wanted to ignore the noise, but he also wanted to make sure whoever it was, wasn't about to sneak out in the middle of the night... which we wouldn't be surprised if Hanji or Eren did. Hanji's odd hours had lead to a weirder sleep pattern than his own, and Eren had too much energy for his own good. The kid had already peeled every last scrap of wallpaper from the kitchen walls, Hanji having given up telling him he needed to rest. If the kid said he was fine, he probably was. Closing his book, Levi was about to push himself up, when the door above creaked, whoever it was now walking towards the stairs. Watching, Eren slowly emerged, the kid chewing on his lips as he rubbed his arms "Oi, brat. What are you doing?" Tripping over his own feet, Eren face planted on the floor. Levi couldn't help but laugh under his breath. The kid hadn't even considered the fact he wasn't sleeping "S-sir?" "Don't give me that. What are you doing?" Picking himself up, Eren walked over and dropped down on the opposite end of the couch "Brat?" "Sorry. I couldn't sleep sir" "I heard. Something on your mind?" "It's nothing, sir" "Eren, you don't have to keep calling me sir" "Sorry" Resisting the urge to throw his book at the kid, Levi settled back against the cough "Now. Why couldn't you sleep?" "I'm just not tired. I tried working out, but I'm still not tired" The kid looked plenty tired. Deep bags hung under his eyes, while Eren was fighting to keep them open "Try again" "It's nothing" "It's not nothing" "Fine. It's stupid" "No, what's stupid is that you're not just spitting it out. What's the matter? Blocked up?" "The house just reminds me of home..." "You're old home?" "It was destroyed by wolves" He already knew that. Everyone knew that "And this place reminds you of it?" "Yeah. It's really pathetic, but I keep dreaming about my mum" "What was she like?" "Scary. I was always getting into trouble with Mikasa and Armin, and mum would always yell, but then she'd always make sure to hug me and tell me she loved me, just in case something happened. The day she died, we had a huge fight. I wanted to go outside the walls and she just wanted me safe... sorry. This is really pathetic" "You're a brat. It's not a big deal to miss your mum" "She'd be so disappointed" "In what?" "In me" "What makes you say that?" "I'm some kind of monster... she was a great mum, but I'm just..." "You're a Lycan" "Yeah. That" "So?" "I just want to be normal" "Being normal is overrated" "Being normal means people don't want you dead" "Is that why you can't sleep?" "I keep seeing Olou blame me for what happened to him" "Olou wouldn't blame you for that, and if you think he would, you never really knew him" "He didn't deserve what happened" "No. He didn't. And now all we can do is kill the filth that killed him" "And what happens when we wipe them all out? They're going to kill me. I know I'm on borrowed time, but I want to see the world... I promised Mikasa and Armin that we would" So the kid was scared of his own mortality. They lived in a world where any day could be there last, but Eren was looking past that, looking to a dream Levi honestly didn't think could ever be reality. He'd seen plenty of people declare they were going to see the world, only for them to end up fodder for the werewolves on their doorstep. It was hard to know what to say, the kid was discouraged enough as it was "All we can do is fight" "I know. It's stupid. I'm being stupid" "I thought your lack of sleep might be from the last round of experiments" "They weren't as bad as the first time" "Do you want to talk about it?" "There's not much to talk about. They were trying different drugs, that's all" "They didn't torture you?" "No. Not that I remember. I think they did something to my head, but I can't remember what" "And no more bleeding?" The blush on Eren's face was barely visible in the low light "Uh. No... um, thank you for helping me bath. I can't remember if I thanked you... or if I thanked you for letting me use your bathroom" "You didn't make that much of a mess" "Still. You shouldn't have been in the position where you had to take care of me. That's to say, um, I know Hanji probably bullied you into, but thanks anyway" "It's fine" "I think I might head back up to bed. Sir, are you really fine with sleeping down here on the sofa?" "I'm not so old that sleeping on the sofa's going to do any damage" "I wouldn't call you old, sir. But if you're calling yourself old" Kicking out and hitting Eren in the leg, the boy pouted at him "Hanji would have laughed" "Do I look like Hanji" "No, you definitely don't. You should try and get some sleep too, sir. Hanji was talking about heading back to the castle soon" Shitty brat. He was decade too young to be telling him to go to bed "Hanji probably wants to get back to her experiments. Don't worry, we'll be here for a few more days" "Then maybe... do you want to go for a run in the morning?" "Alright brat. Now get to bed" Falling asleep still in the same corner of the couch, Levi woke to find himself covered with two thick blankets and a fresh cup of tea waiting for him. Sitting quietly in the same spot he'd occupied last night, Eren was reading the book he'd abandoned "So you can read?" Snapping the book closed, Eren looked to him in guilt "Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to wake you" "You didn't wake me. How long have you been awake?" "Not too long. The tea is fresh. I only just sat down" "The others?" "Sleeping. Hanji's snoring picked up around sunrise. Petra looked ready to smother her. They probably won't be up for another hour or so" Levi nodded, pushing the blankets back. Eren immediately putting the book down and moving to start folding the blankets "Damn brat. You can't wait, can you?" "Just trying to be useful..." "Go wait outside, I'll be out shortly" "I'll do the blankets first" "Brat, it's fine. Go wait outside" "Sorry, sir" There was no way he was letting Eren see he was rock hard like some shitty teenager... the kid was too just too much. *

[eternalsterek-broughttolife]

Proposal, Or Something Like That

Thanks for the anonymous reminder, whoever you are ko-fi nonnie. I totally got swept up in my work and life and getting back into the swing of writing (and hopefully finishing my fic) that I kind of forgot about my wonderful ko-fi donators. You guys really helped me out sooooo much and I’m forever grateful.

This goes out to @ladydrace  for your 900-word donation that I extended to  1292, considering I took so long to get to this. It may not be as fluffy as you expected (I tried, I did, but I’m a angst writer haha), but I hope you enjoy it. Thanks so much, again, dear.

The first time Stiles says it, Derek nearly chokes on a spoonful of ice cream. Which would be a shitty way to die, especially all they’d had to face in the last few years. Especially as the big bad of the week had slowly evolved into the big bad of the month, and the last few months had been completely quiet.

Derek should’ve known to be prepared at any moment. Except, how could anyone be prepared for this?

“God, why aren’t we married yet?” Stiles groans out after taking a giant bite of his ice cream. A little of it spills down Stiles’ arm and he chases it with his tongue, and Derek nearly chokes on his.

He realizes he’s staring at Stiles, his spoon still stuck in his mouth. He quickly rectifies the situation, removing said spoon and giving Stiles one of his best eye rolls.

“Seriously,” Stiles continues, pretty much shoveling the ice cream into his mouth at this point. “If I knew you could cook like this, I would’ve proposed ages ago.”

“It’s not cooking, Stiles,” Derek says. Because that is the easiest thing to focus on. Instead of the way Stiles is moaning around each spoonful, a little dribbling out of his mouth which should not be doing things to Derek.

“You know what I mean.”

He finally looks up, his bowl licked completely clean. And Derek can see the moment his senses come back to him as he blushes and gently places the bowl on the counter in front of him like he hadn’t just had his face shoved in there. He glances mournfully at the hand crank ice cream machine Derek had just purchased.

Derek sighs, pushing away from the counter to pick up Stiles’ bowl and refill it with the remainder of the ice cream. Apparently it was a worthwhile purchase.

“Seriously, marry me?”

****

The second time it happens, Derek is no more prepared for the words, or the images they bring to mind. Images he could never allow himself to dream of because it’s too painful to know it will never happen.

Derek had just been settling into bed with a book he was keen to finish tonight when his phone went off, a ringtone he’d never heard before but had no doubt Stiles had somehow hacked his phone just to add a ridiculous tone for himself. And a quick glance to the screen only proves his point.

With a sigh, Derek leans over and picks up the phone, half tempted to just send him to voicemail. Instead, he answers.

“What do you want, Stiles?” he says in a voice he hopes sounds firm and put out.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeey, Derek,” Stiles singsongs from the other end of the line, like he is just as surprised Derek answered the phone.

Derek sighs again, already pulling back the bedding and grabbing his jeans. “Where are you?”

“Thas not how yersposed to answer the phooooone,” Stiles slurs out, ending with a giggle like he were sharing a joke with himself.

Derek can hear a pounding bassline over the other end of the line and is already running through all the possible bars Stiles could’ve snuck into. He had two more years. Why couldn’t he just be reasonable and just wait.

“I’m coming to pick you up,” Derek says, already halfway down his spiral staircase. “Tell me where you are.”

“Oooooh. My hero.”

**

It’s easy to pick Stiles out over the crowd as he is currently on top of the bar, attempting to dance against one of the pillars. Two of the bartenders are attempting to get him down while another stands back and laughs like this is a regular occurrence, which all Derek knows, it could be.

Before Derek can even cross the room and somehow get Stiles down from his makeshift strip show, Stiles notices him.

“Derek!!!” He shouts, taking one step off the bar and before anyone can do anything, he lands flat on his face.

Somehow, Derek manages to get Stiles into the passenger seat of his car and before he rounds the car to his own seat, he takes Stiles’ hand in his and drains a bit of the pain that Stiles might not feel at the moment, but will most definitely feel in the morning. He’s almost done when Stiles’ other hand lifts and brushes across Derek’s cheek, making him freeze on the spot.

“Will you marry me yet?” Stiles says, his voice oddly clear. He’s staring at Derek with absolute concentration, as if he could will Derek into saying yes.

Derek swallows, his throat having to work extra hard over the lump that seems to have suddenly formed. There’s something in his chest, attempting to crawl out, but he shuts it down. This isn’t...Stiles doesn’t mean anything by it. It’s just….Stiles being Stiles. Stiles being drunk, whatever.

Derek schools his expression before gently rearranging Stiles and placing the seatbelt around him.

“Let’s get you home,” he says before closing the door and rounding the car, too quick to notice the way Stiles’ face pinches in pain.

****

“What do I have to do to get you to say yes?”

Derek nearly brings the hammer down on his hand instead of the nail that was halfway through the fence board he was attempting to repair. He has only a moment to marvel at the fact that Stiles can sneak up on Derek without any of his senses picking up on him, before Stiles is yanking on his shoulder and spinning him around.

His eyebrows are furrowed together, his lips a thin line, and Derek can honestly say he hasn’t seen Stiles this pissed since...he can’t remember when.

“What are...” What was he even talking about? Say yes? To what?

Thankfully Derek doesn’t have to find his words as Stiles is already running over them. “I’ve asked you nicely. Twice now. But you have yet to answer. And maybe I haven’t been the but I haven’t been subtle.”

Derek blinks. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re out here fixing my dad’s fence without even being asked,” Stiles continues as if Derek hadn’t spoken. He’s waving his hands around in a way that makes Derek want to hold them down for everyone’s safety. “You made my absolute most favorite flavor of ice cream without me even asking. You drove twenty minutes out of your way to pick me up from a bar because I was too shitfaced to drive home. How the hell am I supposed to keep my emotions at bay with you doing everything in your power to test them?”

“I don’t…”

“Would you just marry me already?” Stiles says in a huff, full on glaring at Derek by now.

“Okay.”

Stiles looks about ready to go into another rant when the words finally process. He freezes. “O...okay?”

A small smile spreads across Derek’s face. Who knew he could ever actually make Stiles speechless.

“Yes, okay. I’ll marry you.” He takes advantage of Stiles’ stunned silence by pulling him in closer until they’re pressed together from thigh to chest. His smile grows as Stiles’ eyes widen and his breath catches. “But we might want to consider going on at least one date before we do.”

“You...you better not be playing around,” Stiles breathes out. He tries to make it sound teasing, but Derek can see the uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’m not if you’re not,” Derek says, leaning his down ever so slowly, giving Stiles time to pull away.

Stiles’ eyes drop to Derek’s mouth as his tongue unconsciously comes out to wet his lips. God, he’s wanted this for so long.

“It’s a date, then,” Stiles says on a breath, his eyes never leaving Derek’s lips.